#the superior way of eating fruit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

asumofwords · 1 year ago

Text

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Angst, grief, sorrow, fighting.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, here is the next chapter hehe, bit of a sad one but what do we expect from SF&A at this point? Lmaooo. I've almost completely finished writing the whole series, so updates may become more regular as I pump it all out for you. What a journey this has been! Enjoy <3

Chapter 92: Burn Together

To say that things went back to normal would be a farce.

It was all a farce.

The fake smiles. The small nods. The words of affirmation and condemnation. The false sense of security and even falser acts of content. It was all wrong. It was all changed. And it was all too much.

You spend much of your days in the Garden, sat where you were usually seated, staring out at the water as you tried to uphold some sense of strength. Tried to show some vision of superiority and that the loss of the child was divine intervention. As though the anger and hurt had gone, as though the sadness and regret had left, because you knew it was for the better, or perhaps the Gods had told you so.

Words came to you rarely as you began to shrink into yourself again, but with each shrinking moment came the bursting strikes of life. Not happiness or joy, not frustration or longing, pure and uncontested rage.

Rage that it happened.

Rage that he had done nothing.

Rage at your stupidity.

Rage at your desire for more.

Aemond did not try to pry words from you, nor did he even try to touch you. He simply let you exist around him, giving you the space to come to him when needed. Late at night, in the darkness of the chambers you would roll to face him, and the most bitter of sobs would leave your lips.

At first Aemond had been uncertain, and stayed still amongst the sheets, unsure of whether or not to hold you or offer you support. But when you had rolled and pressed yourself into his side, his arms had curled around you in a way that felt natural, as though your body was made to fit between his in such a way, and let you cry against his chest.

Your clothes, your maids noticed, had begun to wear large on you, finding that you had no want to eat nor any appetite to do so. Even with the gentle encouragement of them both, you still did not find the heart to do it, looking at the bowl of star fruit in front of you, stomach full of lead.

But Aemond allowed you to do it.

He allowed you to grieve, but at some point, everyone has their limit, and it seemed that tonight was the night for his.

“You need to eat, Y/n. You need move past this grief. Do not let it consume you.” He implored, grasping at your cheeks.

You pulled away from him, looking up at him with a shaky lip, “Nothing you do will ever make this okay! Nothing you say will take away what you have already done, or what you are to do.”

“What are you talking about?” He questioned, deep lines in his brow.

“This! Us!” You broke, “All of it. It seems as though the Gods have destined us with nothing but pain and agony, and how much more must I bear? My heart cannot take it, Aemond.” A tear slid down your cheek, “I am tired, but more than this I am so alone. So very much alone even with you standing in front of me. Even as I can reach out and touch you with mine own hands. Even as you promise me sweet nothings, I know that it will never be enough to satiate the hungers of the punishments I will soon be lashed with.”

Aemond shook his head, stepping forward towards you again, “Do you think I am going to hurt you? I’m not going to punish you for losing the child. It was not your fault.”

A sob fell from your lips, “Then why do I feel one coming? Why do I always feel as though I am one hair away from your cruelty? We take one step forward together and five steps back. I have given you everything, and yet what do you give me? Nothing. You did nothing. You stood there and watched as I was brought before Aegon. What if it had been me? I thought it was going to be me! And you stood there like a craven and just watched.”

His violet eye blinked at you, the sapphire beside it, still.

You sucked in a breath again, “You watched as your precious wife, the mother to your child, was brought to the throne by force. You watched as Aegon threatened to take my tongue. And what did you do, Aem? You stood there and did fucking nothing!” Anger rose within you, bubbling viciously beneath your skin, “You stood there like a craven as your brother accused me of treason! Your wife! Your supposed love! Your one childhood companion who did nothing but defend you, no matter the odds or punishment! It has always been me. I have been the only one to ever love you. The only one to ever care. The only one to ever defend you. How many times did I do that for you? From the training yard, to the dragon pit, to the Sept. And when the time came for you to defend my honour, you were that same, scared little boy who would hide in the tunnels after his brother would tease him.” Heat rose on your cheeks as you looked at your uncle, his face stern and his eye narrowed.

"You expected me to do what?" Aemond snapped, "What did you expect me to do in that moment? I was not even told you were being brought to the chambers. I could not have possibly done anything that would not have made it worse. If Aegon had seen me react, he would have delighted in the sight and been moved to do more."

You scoffed, “I am burdened with being wed to a coward who hides behind the illusion of duty. A man who cannot even stand up to his drunken, pathetic, whoring brother.” You forced out a humourless laugh, watching as Aemond became irritated, “My husband who rides the largest dragon in the world, my husband who is a skilled warrior; sits and waits to be told what to do like a dog. Doing everyone else’s bidding.” You stepped closer to him, eyeing him down, “If I had not seen your cock, I would have suspected you were a eunuch.”

“My duty is to my brother, to my mother. To my blood.” He sneered.

“And what of my blood, Aemond? What of our union? What of the prophesies from the Gods? Did they not command you to act as you watched me be dragged by men into the throne room? That babe may have been the Prince that was Promised, and now it is gone. Because of you.”

Aemond huffed, “I could do naught! He is my brother. He is the King.”

“And I am your wife! And the blood of the dragon between us runs thicker than the water of the womb you have shared. Like a scared little boy. Never have I seen you so pathetic. You left me for dead.”

Aemond scowled, “I would never do that to you.”

“And yet, you did. You left me at the hands of your brother. And you watched. You have only lost one eye, yet you are so blinded by your duty to them. I feel as though I have died already. I died the moment I watched you do nothing, as those men touched me, as the pain creeped into my womb. I died the moment I realised I meant nothing to you, and that you would let my fate fall into Aegon’s hands. Is this a cruel joke from the Stranger? Is my true reality too grievous for my soul to take? Am I destined for all eternity to love a man who does not love me back?”

“I do love you.” Aemond insisted, frustration in his tone.

“Then why do you let them hurt me?!” You cried, “Why do you hurt me? The Gods play tricks on my mind and my body, and punish me for your actions. She was your whore. Your bastard. And yet I was punished for it. Not you. Me.”

“I lost the child too, do you not think that it pains me so?”

“I know it does not! You did not feel it as I felt. You did not feel the life leave my body, or the pain that came after. You did not feel it pass through me.” You sniffed, another tear falling.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked down at you, voice dangerously low, “I thought I lost you both.”

“And that is where the sickness and depravity of the Gods come to fruition. It is a never ending cycle of hurt and be hurt. I do not know what they have planned for me, but I fear it, Aemond. I fear the path they have paved for me. That child was from them, I know it. I felt it in my bones. And yet we lost it. Will they punish me now for being so careless? Will they punish us both for not ensuring its birth? I cannot continue to wreak the consequences of the men around me. I will break. I will break like poor Helaena did. But even to that, there is nothing I can do because I fell in love with a man who’s actions wound me most terribly. There is this small, foolish piece of me still holding onto hope that the Aemond I grew up with would still care for me as he did.”

“I do. I love you deeply. I would do anything for you, surely you know this.” Aemond began, stepping forward to hold your face tightly in his large palms, thumbs brushing the tears that fell from your cheeks.

“It is okay,” You heaved a breath, “Please just tell me if it is a farce.” You grabbed his wrists almost desperately, “If you only say it so for the treaty. I will understand, I will even make my peace with it.” You said desperately, “But please, I cannot survive my heart being torn apart by you any longer. I cannot do it, Aemond. I won’t. I will throw myself from Maegor’s Holdfast, I promise you this. I will set you free from these marriage bonds if you so wish, and my spirit from this earthly plane.”

Aemond stepped towards you, grabbing your shoulder and neck, fingers framing your chin, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, “Eman va moriot jorrāelatan ao. Kesan va moriot jorrāelagon ao. Se qēlossās kostagon ropagon hen se jēdar, se nyke iēdrosa jorrāelagon ao.” I have always loved you. I will always love you. The stars could fall from the sky, and I would still love you.

Aemond’s eye narrowed as he spoke, brow furrowed in a way that creased the scar at his brow, “Eman jorrāelatan ao pār nyke ēlī ilagontan laesi va ao. Se kesan jorrāelagon ao ēva ñuha mōrī jelevre.” I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you. And I will love you until my last breath.

A loud sob left your lips as your heart clenched in your chest at his words.

"Hen se gūrēñare yard, naejot se havor tistālion, ēza va moriot issare ao.” From the training yard, to the kitchen, it has always been you.

“Aemond.” You hands tightened around his wrists in a way that would have been painful as you clutched him for dear life.

The Prince pulled you forward towards him, clutching you against his chest as he let you cry, wrapping his large arms around you, blanketing you in a feeling of safety that only he could bring to you.

You cried into him, feeling the last of your resolve fall away, and the rawness of your grief exposed to the chambers. He held you to him tightly, afraid to let go, your hands tightly wrapped in the front of his tunic.

When Aemond finally pulled back, he brought his lips to yours. It wasn’t burning with passion or desire, it wasn’t laced with regret and grief, instead, his lips moved against yours like a gentle whisper of assurance, a smaller whisper of truth, and the almost invisible whisper of a promise, all of which was overpowered by one thing, and one thing only.

Love.

Your uncle pulled away, looking down at you with nothing but adoration as he spoke again,“Lanta rōvēgrie zaldrīzes perzyssy, hēnkirī hae mēre. Spool hen kasta, spool hen zōbrie. Iā rōvēgrie ropagon naejot letagon lanta hubon. Vējes naejot zālagon hēnkirī.”

Two great dragon flames, together as one. Spool of green, spool of black. A great fall to tie two threads. Fated to burn together.

Tears continued to fall, but not because of grief. Not because of the sorrow that swallowed you into its dark pit, its wispy tendrils pulling you beneath its icy surface. Not because of the regret that you had, or guilt that you felt for the Maester.

You cried because you knew it was the truth.

You knew it to be.

It had to be.

All of this could not be for naught.

“Avy jorrāelan.” I love you, He whispered again.

You gave him a sad smile in return, “And I love you, but I don’t think I will survive this.”

“I will not let them hurt you.”

You looked at Aemond carefully, watching as the words left his mouth, at the way his eye held conviction, at the way his mouth held an almost Godly truth.

The way he said it to be true.

As though speaking would make it so.

“You already have.”

Aemond dipped his head towards you again and kissed you, pulling you against his body once more as you wrapped your arms around him, sighing into the kiss, feeling relief in his touch, safety in his arms, warmth in his reach.

Slowly Aemond moved you backwards towards the bed.

Your heart did not race nor skip, your breath did not hitch, and you went with him willingly, hands reaching the bottom of his tunic to begin unclasping the latches that held it together.

When the last clasp was undone, your hands skated beneath gently, softly, slowly, and moved up his torso, feeling the hard lines of his body, and the warmth of his skin, and the subtle breaths that he took as you made your way to his shoulders, hands moving beneath to slide it off his his body. It fell to the floor, the next his under tunic, and before long, your hands reached forward to unlace his breeches.

Aemond spun you softly, pushing your hair away from your neck and forward over your shoulder, kissing the bare skin as he unlaced and the back of your gown, the heavy material sagging on your body until it slid to the floor beneath you.

Breeches and chemises were lost, boots and stockings tossed, until finally the two of you laid atop the green sheets of your bed, his callused hands skating over your skin in reverence, with undying patience and care.

First he took you with his mouth, bringing you to your peak with the help of his long fingers, stretching you open for him and whispering words of praise against your slick skin. When you peaked with a cry, he kissed his way up your body, through the valley of your breasts until he hovered above you, seeking permission to move as he lined himself with your core.

You tilted your head upwards, chasing his lips as he slid inside of you slowly, the both of you moaning into each others mouths. Pleasure coursed through you with every thrust, heat blooming in your core as he made love to you for the first time.

It was not possessive or rough, violent or haste, it was slow, and sensual, hands mapping out bodies, savouring the flickering sparks that spouted beneath your skin. The small sighs that he made, the moans as he dipped his head into your neck.

All of it devastatingly pure.

The tears came without you even noticing them there, Aemond finding them upon your cheeks with a moment of concern. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks as he stilled, the length of him throbbing inside of you, desperate to keep moving.

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head vehemently, “I wish we hadn’t wasted so much time apart.” You whispered, hips moving up to meet his, encouraging him to move again, “I wish the war had not happened.” Aemond slid through your folds as you babbled beneath him, “I wish that we had not done the things we had done.”

Aemond bent his neck to kiss you again, tongue chasing yours before he pulled away, the breath having been stolen from your lungs.

“We cannot go back, we can only move forward.”

You nodded, weakness and sorrow buried down beneath you as you looked at him with determination.

“Burn together.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

430 notes · View notes

biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 6 months ago

Note

hiii, could you do gn!reader/mc stargazing with Geo :3??? (only if you're comfortable ofc)

Celestial (Geo x MC/Reader)

If only I could stargaze one day. 😔

Enjoy anonnie, have an awesome day/night! <33 Thanks for letting me write this for you.

Anyway, you're in a established relationship with Geode, so rejoice.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Celestial: in a way that relates to the sky or things outside this world.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

When Geo texts a 'query' your way, you don't know whether it's an order or a request. "Do you want to hang out tonight?" "Uh, sure?? Where?" He then sent you an image of one of the nicer parks in the city, which thankfully happened to be in a safer area as well:

You sighed, pondering whether to allow yourself sleep or 'hang out' with Geo.

Obviously you pick the latter. who sleeps anyway

You give the affirmative, to which he promises to show up within 20 minutes.

You get ready, bringing only the essentials and a couple packs of dried fruit (because only cool people eat dried fruit).

When he arrives, wearing a dark turtleneck and jeans, you (understandably) almost die from his sheer superiority beauty.

You get in his car and he drives you both off to the location.

It's always silent in the car, although he trusts you enough to play his favourite Japanese songs.

It took him 2 years to admit which ones he liked.

Anyway, when you show up, the weather and temperature is perfect (as Geo willed it), and almost nobody else is there.

He sets up the blanket, food (he brought food with him omg what a 11111/10 guy amirite /srs) and whatever else he deemed necessary (a lot of hidden weapons and a bunch of books).

You both lay down under the starry sky and admire them, talking about constellations, hell, you both point some out during the night.

After a while you're snacking on Geo's dick (im sorry) food and snuggled up in a bunch of blankets, while he's calmly reading a Japanese novella.

You eventually curl up on the blanket to fall asleep, to which Geo notices and asks if you want him to wake you later or to take you home now.

You ask to stay a bit longer, to which he obliges.

Until you're out like a light.

Then he bridal-carries you to his car, getting a few side-eyes from nosy strangers, places the belongings in his cars' boot and then takes you home.

You don't even notice until the next morning that you were out, to which he simply teased you. (dw we enjoy that here)

Yeah, you both have a banger time. 10/10, both parties would do it again, so every full moon, Geo will ask you if you wanna stargaze with him again. <3

#reminder that geo is superior #the kid at the back #tkatb #geo subaru oogami #geo oogami #tkatb vn #tkatb x reader #tkatb geo #stargazing #romance #hcs #im so fucking tired #idek why

77 notes · View notes

nilolol30 · 11 months ago

Text

Never too late to try new things

Monkey king x reader

Picnics were a favorite pass time for Wukong especially with you, he always brings your favorite foods though you had to talk to him about how you won't eat anything that was literally made from his fur which he found understandable.

You can't miss the big smile he has whenever he spots you walking over to him and his little set up.

"You finally made it! And here I thought you stood me up" He laughed while patting the spot next to him excitedly, laughing at his antics you join him as he opened the basket and held out one of your favorite foods to you.

"How could I dare do such a thing hm?" You joked with a smile before taking a bite and soon you both fell into a discussion about each other's day.

"But I finally decided to write a perfect training schedule for the kiddo and he gave me his work schedule so we can plan accordingly!" Wukong smiled, even though you were the one who gave him the idea.

"Really? And here I thought you couldn't read" You struggled to stifle a laugh when Wukong's face went from disbelief and fake offense "that is a misconception I'll have you know I can read and write! Quite well too!" Immediately you couldn't hold it in and bursted out laughing.

"So anyway! That's what I did today so what fantastic thing did you do hm?" Changing the topic Wukong leaned in close as he hummed while he slid over a bottle of water to you.

"Well today I got to try some tea from this new tea shop! I got this peach flavored one it was pretty good" Wukong hummed again nodding in approval "Of course I mean it's peaches! They're always going to be good like have you ever eaten one they're top fruit man!" He fist bumped the air while looking at the little monkeys that copied him.

You laugh at his rant before adding "No I haven't" Wukong stoped himself from going into another rant about how superior peaches were and he slowly turned his head back to you "you're pulling my tail aren't you?" You shook your head at his question.

"Nope no way no! no living being on this mountain should not ever suffer from never eating a peach!" Wukong summoned his nimbus and jumped on, quickly yelling a "be right back" before zooming off.

It didn't take long for Wukong to zoom back to the picnic with an armful of peaches he sat down Infront of you and dropped all the peaches onto your lap with a wide smile "Well? Go on go on try them!" His tail swayed in anticipation.

Humoring him you pick up a peach "Do I peel it?" You ask turning the peach in your hand Wukong raises an eyebrow for a second before connecting the dots "Oh right human stomaches and stuff...but yeah hold on lemme!" Taking the peach from your hand he plucked some fur from his head and turns it into a peeler.

He would use his claws but you'd probably find that unsanitary since he hasn't cleaned the dirt from his claws for a bit, but after peeling the peach and handing it back to you he ate the leftover peels and waited for you to take a bite.

Only with a little hesitation you finally did and you chewed for a bit before swallowing "Weeeell?" Wukong asked leaning in close to hear your opinion.

"hmm...it's good" Wukong laughed and jumped up in celebration "Let's gooo! Here I'll peel some more for you!"

#lmk x reader #lmk wukong x reader #monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid x reader

154 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 1 year ago

Text

Simmering and Smothering

Part 2 to It’s Always Coffee

Word Count: 7K

A/N: I’m soft for this guy rn. He’s so !!! Anyways, I um don’t know what else to say

- You stand with a group of people, a lanyard hangs from your neck, and you pinch at the plastic cover that holds a card reading “Visitor” stuck on it. People part of the group peek through windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the wonders behind the glass. You're sure at some point you saw Dr. Ohnn standing close to a coworker. He must have felt your gaze, because he looked up and you had to fist your hand to restrain yourself from waving at him. But when the scientist beside him puts their hand on his back, returning his attention to the project in front, you find yourself digging your nails into the flesh of your palms.

You look around, but nothing catches your eye as it should at Alchemax. While you knew that they wouldn’t show a tour group all the dark and gritty experiments, a part of you wishes that you were able to slip away to explore, but any chances of that were snuffed out with a warning at being kicked out and banned should you stray. However, you do enjoy getting to step foot into the building. The group is led through glass doors, and you hear a few people sigh in relief. Walking in, windows line the room and let in a nice glow of sun.

“Okay,” Dr. Octavius says with a clap of her hands, “this is the cafeteria where we will be having lunch. Those tables over there-” she points over to a cluster of tables that have been protected with stanchions- “will be where you all will be eating. Lunch is one hour, and if anyone needs to go to the restroom, please contact a security guard.” Her gaze is friendly, smile wide and tone with the slightest hint of superiority, she speaks to all, before her gaze lands on you, her smile falling ever-so-slightly. “If you fail to inform a guard, and are caught wandering, you will be immediately removed from the premises.” Smiling, you give her an “okay” symbol, and in response, she looks away from you. “Okay!” She chirps, taking a step to the side, she sweeps her arms towards the selection of food. “Enjoy your lunch.”

You’re at a cart, holding a tray consisting of fruits, and a bottle of juice. You peer over the selection of bread, holding a saran wrapped bagel. You pull your mouth into a line, wanting to put it back, but unsure if that’s okay to do so. Sure, it’s saran wrapped, but what if it’s not okay to place things back. You’ve already picked it up, and with a sigh, you place it on your tray. You look over the rest of the selection of the grains, and perk up at the sight of a muffin. Happily, you reach to grab at it before your wrist is grabbed at.

“Hey-” You bark out, pulling your hand out of the grasp and turning to look at whoever it was that clutched your wrist. You stop short when you realize that it’s Dr. Ohnn. “I feel like we talked about appropriate ways to greet others,” you muse, grabbing at the saran wrapped muffin.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, and you frown.

Your eyes scan his face, and you fold the tray closer to you. “You’re upset,” you conclude, tilting your head with furrowed brows.

“Of course I am,” he hisses. Your ears begin to burn, and you look around the cafeteria, many of the patrons sitting down and ignoring you- including the tour group you are a part of. When you look back at him, he continues. “Why are you here?”

“I’m part of the tour.” You jerk your head over where your tour members sit behind the stanchions. “Fisk was promoting it- something to show off Alchemax and how family-friendly it is. But if you ask me, I think it’s just a cover to stop people from asking-”

“I don’t care,” he rushes.

You pull your lips into a thin line. “Okay, you don't have to be rude.” His eyes widen, and his shoulders rise. He opens his mouth, but you press forward. “Listen, I paid my way in, okay? If you’re upset with it, then I don’t know what to tell you.” He stays silent and you look back to your group. Turning back to him, you start. “Is that all, Dr. Ohnn? May I go sit down, or do you want to continue reprimanding me?”

He opens and closes his mouth, and when you turn on your heel, he calls your name. You turn to him with a waiting look. “I apologize.” You encourage him with a nod of your head. “I just-” he looks around, and grabs your wrist, pulling you to another station of food, grabbing a tray, and standing in front of the selection of fruits.

“You just?”

“I hadn’t thought that you would be here. I-” with his middle finger, he pushes up his glasses by the bridge- “I wasn’t aware there was a tour going on.”

“Does that matter?” You ask, grabbing at a cup of peeled mandarins.

“Scientists are usually the one to lead groups,” he says quietly, "due to the fact that it is our projects we are showcasing. We all take turns with it given that leading groups take time away from our projects. This should have been a group that I would have led. Dr. Octavius must have seen your name on the roster and decided to lead it for the day.” He gives you a look. “I’m surprised that she let you in.”

“I paid,” you shrug. “She isn’t happy about it or anything, but-” you end it with a shrug. “Anyways, I won’t bother your lunch or anything. I’m simply here to see the building and enjoy lunch.” You give him a smile as you lift up your tray. “Have a good day Dr. Ohnn.” You nod your head, ready to walk away before he stops you.

“Do you have to sit down with the others?” You turn to him, and look at him quizzically. “We um- We never finished our conversation from the other day.”

You tighten your grip on the tray. “Yeah,” you breathe out. “You kinda left without exchanging numbers. But I don’t think I’m allowed to sit elsewhere.” You look back at your group. “I’d invite you to sit with me, but I’m not sure if I could give you quite a riveting conversation as your work buddies.”

“You can. You have,” he says so, without any hesitation. “Our last conversation was entertaining.”

"You think so?"

He opens his mouth, before being interrupted by someone calling his name. "Jonathan," calls someone far too cheery from the door. A few heads turn to watch as another scientist- you think that they look familiar- and turn back around once the scientist enters the cafeteria. They turn on their heel to wave at another and it clicks- it's the scientist that touched his back.

You look back to the doctor, giving him a raised look. He has a sort of flush that colors in his face, and you purse your lips together.

The scientist walks toward the both of you, but their attention is solely on Jonathan. "Jonathan-" they say his name with a sickly sweet tone- "I thought you were going to wait for me so we can have lunch together." They smile brightly at the other and you watch as they reach over to squeeze at his bicep. "You hadn't forgotten, had you?"

"My apologies, Dr. Owens." You don't miss the way that he refers to the scientist by their last name while they refer to him by his first. A frown tugs at corner of your lips- they refer to him by his first name. You glance between the two and a pit settles in your stomach. "I hadn't forgotten, but I got distracted. It must have slipped my mind."

"You don't normally get distracted," they note, and their eyes dart at you. With the consequence of being acknowledged, you smile at them. "Ah. Part of the tour group, huh? No wonder you bothered our precious doctor." They're far too sweet with their words, it makes you uncomfortable. You open your mouth to apologize, but they continue on. “I was wondering if we could get the chance to go over our notes?” You feel as if you're in the middle of something. Standing besides Dr. Owens, you feel unsure of yourself. You clear your throat. They turn to you, and their smile is beaming. “Ah, I didn't mean to interrupt. While I’m sure Dr. Ohnn would love to engage with others about theories and his work, I do have to steal him away from you.” Their smile turns gentle, and you feel silly standing between them. “Sorry,” they apologize with a smile.

"Uh, yeah." You grit your teeth- that came out less eloquently than you would liked. "Sorry, Dr. Ohnn." You tap your heel against the ground. “I’ll leave you to it.”

"Oh- Um-” he looks at you, and you smile at him, shrugging your shoulders. He returns his look towards the other scientist, and you let your gaze drift down. You walk away, catching only a glimpse of their conversation. “What would you like to discuss?”

Sitting down at a designated table, the other tour members greet you. You smile and pick at your bagel, taking small bites, regretting not getting some kind of topping. You bite at your muffin, nodding along as the other group members talk about the experiments going on at the building.

It would make sense for him to have a partner. He's attractive, and has a good job. With the one conversation that you've had with him, he was well spoken. You eat your mandarins, letting the citrus fill your mouth. Dr. Owens isn’t unattractive and they certainly seemed nice. You do your best not to look at the doctor and his partner, keeping your head down as you listen to the other people in your group.

You know why you feel so bothered by it all. It’s dumb. You only had one actual conversation with him, but it was nice. He was nice- much nicer than you had ever given him credit for. You feel silly over being jealous of a man you only knew for a minute.

"Fuckin' driver," you mutter under your breath, your lips curled in disgust. Fixing yourself, you cross your arms and decide to walk to the train station. It's incredibly late and something that you actively avoid doing, but you don't want to risk yourself with another driver. "Now I gotta walk."

A part of you pays with the idea of putting in your headphones and at least having a calming walk, but you shake your head at that idea. You will not be murdered just because you wanted to listen to music.

Headlights flash by and you bite the inside of your mouth every time. A car passes by, and you watch as the red tail lights blink on. You stop in your steps, taking a look around. No one else on the sidewalk acknowledges the car.

“Okay”, you think to yourself, “I can't get abducted in front of other people.” You take a step forward and pause. “That's dumb. Yes, I can.” You scowl and tap your foot against the pavement, holding tighter onto the strap of your bag.

However, no one else seems fazed by a car pulling over, and that gives you confidence to walk further. At the end of the car, you see the passenger window roll down. You hesitate again. Sucking in a breath, you roll your wrists, and as you walk past the car until you hear your name being called.

You turn, and through the windshield, you see a familiar doctor waving at you. Looking around, you clutch onto the trap of your bag before making your way towards him.

"Dr. Ohnn?"

He smiles nervously. He looks far too tense for someone in their own car. "Hello," he calls you by your name. "I was sure you would have left ages ago."

"Tour ran late- one of the kids explored without permission," you explain.

"I'm surprised it wasn't you." You weren't aware he could tease.

"I wasn't in the mood for any trespassing charges. Maybe tomorrow." You shrug, and send him a grin. “Who knows? Night’s still young and all.”

He turns his head, and you follow his gaze out onto the street before the both of you. "Why are you walking?"

“People had their own rides, and I didn't. I took the bus. After the whole fiasco, I missed it. I got into a taxi, but uh-" you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest- "the driver was being too sleazy for my tastes so I decided to take my chances walking.”

“Oh- I’m sorry to hear about that.” He leans over the middle console of the car, with his hand pressed down on the passenger seat. “It’s quite late,” he tells you.

Your lips stretch into a thin grin. “Correct. It’s no wonder that you’re one of the top scientists at Alchemax.”

“You’re hilarious,” he deadpans.

“I try,” you tell him. The soft glow of the streetlamps casts him in a warm glow. “But I'd be more inclined to believe you if you were actually laughing.”

“Yes, well, I’ll try to laugh next time.” He rolls his eyes, and you smile sharply at him.

“Is that why you stopped? To hear my humor?” You tease, taking a step forward, and he tilts his head to look at you.

“No, actually. I thought it was you, and I wanted to know if you would like a ride?”

You’re taken aback. “Oh! Um- No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” you correct yourself. You turn looking down the street where the crowd of people slows. You look back at him. “I’m sure you have your own plans for the night. I wouldn’t want to intrude or interrupt or anything.” You twist the strap of your bag in your hand. “While I appreciate the offer, you don’t have to worry about me Dr. Ohnn.”

“You wouldn’t be interrupting anything. I don’t have any plans.”

You stay silent, weighing your options in your head. While you’d like to be in a car and taken to your home, you also can’t just enter his car. Even if he is the one offering. No. You can’t. There has to be a line. You have a crush on him- maybe. You’re attracted to him. Wait, that’s actually worse. You shake your head.

“I shouldn’t.” You bite your bottom lip and look at the air freshener that hangs down the rearview mirror. “I would want to get you into any sorts of trouble.”

“Trouble?” He says in a quiet voice, but alarm is still laced into his words.

“You know-” you wave your hand in front of you- “with Dr. Owens. Would they be okay with you giving me a ride?”

He gives you an incredulous look. “What does Dr. Owens have to do with this?”

Your chest begins to burn, and it travels upwards to your face. “Would they appreciate you giving a ride to a stranger?”

“You aren’t a stranger,” the way that he calls your name has your breath hitching, and heart racing. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you walking so far to a station at night.”

“Okay,” you shrug. “But you have to put in the directions on your phone. I’m easily distracted and won’t be able to give you any good directions.”

“Fine by me,” he pulls away and the door unlocks. You open the door, and the window slowly raises. “Between you and I, I’m not entirely great with navigation.” The noise from the outside mutes as you close the door, the lock clicking down on itself. You click the seatbelt as you give him a look. “I get lost easily,” he admits. He grabs his phone and sorts through his applications, finally passing it your way with the map function on display.

“Don’t you have a PhD?” You enter your address, and return the phone, watching as he places the phone on the holder stuck to the car.

“Doesn’t mean a thing if a shopping center has me turned all sorts of ways,” he admits, setting the car to ‘drive’ and pulling away from the sidewalk. You laugh, it starts as a snort, and forms into a chuckle and it has you hiding your smile behind your hand, trying to quell the laughter.

You turn to look at him, the corner of your lips tilting upwards and wrinkling at your eyes. “I don’t even think I could picture you getting lost in a mall.”

He sits up straighter, and casts a glance through the corner of his eye. “It isn’t a particularly good image of me,” he confesses.

Humming, you lean back into the seat, fixing your bag onto your lap, playing with the zipper. “No, I’m sure it is,” you hum. “A renowned scientist, lost at a mall.”

“It can be quite traumatizing.”

“I’m sure it can be,” you muse, trying to hide the smile that slowly grows. "Many children often fear the mall for that same reason."

He scoffs at your remark. “Did you learn anything interesting on the tour?” He asks, and you cross your ankles.

“I think we learned about atoms?” He chuckles at that, and you feel warm. “I gotta be honest, I was hoping for something a bit more, ya know?”

“Atoms aren't enough?”

"Not nearly,” you tell him softly. “Maybe if they brought out some secret project or like showed some sort of light show, then I’d be impressed.”

“Oh, of course,” he says with sarcasm laced into his words. “A secret project shown to the masses, especially where one child had gone missing.”

“Explored,” you correct, turning our head to look at him.

The GPS voice speaks, and he misses a turn. He mumbles an apology, the application already rerouting him. “If you join another one, I’ll make sure that there’s a light show.” He casts a glance, and misses another turn, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “I’m thirsty,” he tells you.

You blink at him. “You can stop somewhere and get something. I don’t mind waiting in the car.” The metal zipper of your bag shines under the passing streetlamps.. “You’re already doing me a favor by driving me home.”

“The coffee shop is still open. Would you mind accompanying me for a drink?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah- sure. I’d be okay with that. I still owe you that cup of coffee. You know, from when we met at the shop?”

He shakes his head. “Consider it my treat. I am inviting you after all.”

“But you did win that little wager, and you are driving me home. I could at least buy you a cup of coffee or something.” He shakes his head. “Come on-” you slap the back of your hand lightly against his bicep- “don’t make it difficult.”

“I’m not making it difficult,” he frowns.

The GPS continues to tell Dr. Ohnn to make a right when he can, and he fumbles with turning it off, grumbling under his breath until you offer your hand out. The phone is placed down, and you shut down the application. The phone is held in your hand, the application minimizing to show his background- a picture of- the phone is pulled out of your grasp.

“I don’t even get to learn what your background is?” You give a faux pout, leaning back against the seat. “Come on, I didn’t even get a chance.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” he tells you. “It isn’t all that exciting.” You stick your tongue out at him in response and he fails to suppress a smile.

Pulling to the side of the road, you place your bag on the floor, snagging your debit card before zipping the bag up. Getting out of the car, you’re careful not to slam the door. You rush to beat him from opening the door. “Okay,” you draw out the vowel, slipping to move in front of him, “how about this. You buy my cup, and I’ll buy yours. I’ll even let you get a pastry- you know as a thank you for driving me home.

“You don’t have to. I offered to drive you home, it was completely my own volition.”

You give an exaggerated sigh. “Whatever you say, but the offer is there.”

As he orders his drink, you press your card against the payment terminal, telling the barista that it’ll be two separate transactions. You can feel his eyes on you and you can only smile, nodding when the barista confirms. Lacking your energy, he pays when you order your own. You’re sure that the barista is annoyed with the two of you, but at this point, you had a win that he was owed.

With the lack of patrons, the two of you find a table placed beside the window. The two of you sit across from each other, and wait for your drinks to be called. Tapping your hands against the table, you look out the window, watching the people and the cars.

“I was more than happy paying for your drink,” he comments.

You look at him through the reflection, and he meets your gaze there. “I know. But you’re already doing me such a favor by taking me home and stuff-” shrugging, you turn to face him- “might as well buy you a drink.”

“You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.

“I wanted to.”

Looking at you, he opens his mouth to speak, but closes it when he can’t find the right words. You nod, letting him take his time and to continue with whatever he is going to say. Clearing his throat, he can only get a breath out when the two of your names are spoken. You turn just in time to see the drinks placed on the counter as the barista walks away.

“I’ll go get them for us.” He stands from the table and you watch him. He takes long strides, his head bent and arms close to himself, as if trying to make himself to the public. You hadn’t realized that he had such squared shoulders. He almost reminds you of a rectangle.

Placing your drink in front of you, he takes a seat. His teeth bite at his bottom lip and he brings the cup to his lips. Placing the drink down, he clears his throat. “Why did you ask about Dr. Owens?”

Ah. Maybe you should’ve kept quiet about that. “What do you mean?”

“You mentioned that I would get in trouble with them if I had driven you home.”

“Oh um, yeah. It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not worrying, I’m asking.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your gaze focused on your drink. “They just seemed into you is all. I thought there was something you know-” you lift your head looking at him- “between you and them.”

“You thought they were into me?” You choose to ignore the wonder in his voice. Opting to stay silent, you nod. “I can assure you, Dr. Owens is not into me.”

“It sure seemed that way,” you mumble into the rim of your drink. He stares at you, and you shift in your seat, hiding behind your cup. “What?”

“What made you think they were into me?”

Your molars grind against each other. The rim of the cup is brought to your lips, but you don’t take a sip, you only press your lips against the opening, before lowering it back to the table. “Oh gosh, are you into them? Look, that's sweet and all, but I’d rather not play matchmaker to some scientists.” He stays silent, and you look outside the window, watching a couple walk past by. “You really wanna know?” He makes a noise of confirmation, and you let out a held breath. “In that little time that I saw the two of you, they had no trouble touching you. And they call you by your name, too.”

“My name?”

Nodding, you twist and untwist your legs. “Yeah.”

“Is that usually an indicator?”

Lifting your hand, you make a see-saw motion. “Sometimes, I guess. Depends on how it’s used and all. Context, ya know?”

“I call other people by their names,” he counters. You nod, letting him continue. “I call you by your name.”

“Oh yeah- I um, I guess so,” you mumble, taking another sip of your drink, desperate to keep yourself busy.

“You never call me by my name.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was allowed.”

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be allowed?”

“I always thought you found me annoying.”

“I did.” You frown, and he gives you an apologetic smile. His hand lifts up, grabbing at a strand of hair and twirling it around his finger. “That doesn’t mean that I disliked you. I have to admit-” he lets go of the strand and it falls back to place- “I always did find your drive admirable. You weren’t one to give up. You’re quite stubborn.” You stare at each for a few moments, heat blazing itself against your skin, making a chill over your body. He breaks eye contact and tilts the cup, making a circle with the bottom edge. “Do you really believe that Dr. Owens likes me because they call me by my name.” You nod, your mouth too dry despite the drink in your hand to even consider speaking. “Hm, okay,” he hums. His hand runs over his stubble, and you wonder if he’s growing out a beard. “You said that they touch me.”

“I um, saw the two of you in an office- while on the tour.” Your hand pulls up to scratch at your shoulder. You feel the need to hide from him.

His smile stretches even more. “I thought I was losing my marbles.” You take a sip of your drink. “I thought that after all my imagining about-” he clicks the last consonant, and you straighten yourself, leaning forward- “I thought that finally, after all of your incessant questioning, that I was beginning to imagine you.”

“Mhm,” you hum, taking another sip of your very diluted drink.

“You were saying.” He rolls his hand expectantly.

“When you turned around- when you saw me- they immediately turned you back around.”

“So? I believe we were discussing the recent project that we’ve both been assigned on”

Grabbing a napkin, you dab at the table where a ring of water from the condensation has formed on the table. “It was how they touched you. They touched your back and lingered their hand on you.”

“I’m not following.”

You make a noise of discomfort, and fist the wet napkin in your hand. “I can’t explain it in words. It’s- It’s in the details and stuff. The observer's point of view.”

“Can you show me?”

“Like?”

“Touch me.”

The napkin is clenched tightly in your hand, your nails ripping through the soft paper. Warmth flushes through your body, and you fear that he can notice the change in you. You know that he doesn’t mean it that way, but for him to say something so- so, intimate sounding, without meaning to, made your heart skip a beat. His eyes widen, and he stumbles over his words. “No- Not- Not like that. I hadn’t meant for it- I’m so terribly sorry-”

“It’s fine,” you reassure, waving your hand in front of you. “It’s cool,” you smile at him and he stops his ramble of words. There’s a rapid beat that bruises inside of your chest at his words- even if he did mean them innocently. “But you know, they touched you at the cafeteria too. They went up to you and touched your bicep.” You lift your hand, reaching over the table, letting it hover over his forearm. Glancing at him, he’s watching you, and you close your fist, pulling your hand back to you.

“And you believe that all of those actions are due to the fact that they like me?”

Shrugging, you suck in your bottom lip. “It’s just my theory,” you whisper, embarrassment laced into your words. “They wanted to eat lunch with you too.”

The two drinks remain untouched and outside, you can hear sirens. His hand lifts up to rub over his mouth, and he has this faraway look in his eyes. “Okay,” he mumbles.

“Okay?”

“Is there anything else that you want to add?”

You pout. “No.”

In the corner of your eye, you see a worker clean a table with a rag. You watch for a moment, and turn your head when chairs are fixed back into their positions, scraping along the floor. A part of you feels unsure about the conversation. While you wouldn’t believe that the scientist had a crush on you, you had at least humored the idea, but knowing that he isn’t interested in you, makes you want to go home.

You open your mouth to speak, and he beats you to it. “I’m hungry,” he states.

“I told you you could have gotten a pastry,” you point out.

“I want dinner. An actual dinner.” Sitting straight, it’s as if he has a new resolve. “Are you hungry?”

Blinking in surprise, you lift your shoulders. “Oh, uh, yeah. I guess I could eat something.”

“Good,” he nods to himself, and stands up, the chair squeaks against the floor. You follow his eyes, looking up at him as he adjusts the chair and stands by the table. “I’d like for you to accompany me to dinner.” Clearing his throat, his shoulders bunch together, and any confidence that he did have, is slowly evaporating. “That- That is if you want to, of course.”

You scoff with a smile. “Yeah, I’m game with that, Dr. Ohnn.”

“Jonathan. You can call me Jonathan. I don’t mind it if you call me that.” He twists his hands, interlocking them, and pulling on the back of his palm, his skin stretching thin over his knuckles.

Straightening yourself, you nod. “Okay. Jonathan it is. The same um, goes to you of course. You can call me by my name.”

“I already do,” and the way that he says your name, softly and tenderly, held with a smile, makes you turn your head and scratch at your neck in a desperate attempt to hide how wide your smile is.

“Mhm,” you squeak out. Standing up, you make sure to push the chair in and grab at the loose napkins and your drink.

Following behind you, he throws his drink into the trash. This time, he’s made sure that he stands in front of you, stretching his arm out to hold the door open for you. Mumbling, you thank him, standing beside the door as he goes to open the passenger side door.

None of what he’s doing is helping quell your attraction to the scientist.

Clicking his seatbelt, he starts the car, driving away from the coffee shop. “Do you have a preference?”

“On food?” He nods, fumbling with the radio that plays the song of the week. You tap your foot to the beat. “Um, I think I’m good with most stuff. Restaurants are pretty inclusive about diets and stuff most days.”

“There’s a burger place on the way to Alchemax, do you know the one I’m talking about?”

“With the really good burgers?”

“Yes. Would you like to go there?”

“Isn’t that too far?”

“They opened one relatively nearby.”

“Oh okay, yeah.” You nod. “I’m game with that.”

“Good. That’s good.”

The drive to the restaurant passes by quickly as you chat about miscellaneous things- the weather, work, different coffee shops. Uncomfortable with silences, you keep the conversation going, jumping from topic to topic, trying to make something stick. However, the driver seems to be content with silence, nodding and giving one-worded answers, only really contributing to the conversation when you give your opinion on something.

Pulling into the restaurant, he takes a glance at you, and you smile in response. He opens his door, and steps out, and you follow close behind. The door is held open for you, you order your own meal, and before you can pat your pockets to find your card, he’s already paying for the meal. You aren’t sure how to feel about the whole situation. You feel good- happy and flustered even- but you can’t kid yourself. It’s dinner. With a scientist who you have pestered for a good while about what exactly is going on within Alchemax. It’s dinner with a guy who you had coffee with- twice. That’s it.

When he sits in front of you, and smiles, you think you’re about to pass out.

Oh. He’s really cute.

No. Whatever feelings you’re having is a moment of weakness. Maybe you should download a dating app or something.

Your newfound emotions aren’t settled by the end of the meal where you tell him a story about an old job that you used to work. He’s an avid listener, expressive and laughing when you start to smile uncontrollably. He pushes his tray closer to yours, letting you snag what little left of fries that he has. Even with bags under his eyes, he remains attentive during your story.

“No, and like my supervisor tells me “Well whole milk is regular milk,” and I’m so adamant-” you laugh mid-sentence- “that two percent is regular milk. Or like can be qualified as regular milk.”

“Why were you so adamant about it?” He laughs softly, leaning forward.

“Honestly?” You lean forward, stealing a fry of his and plopping it in your mouth. “I just really hate being wrong. Anyways-” you wave your hand in the air- “we have this whole spiel about milk of all things. And I tell him that I like oat milk and he’s like-” you deepen your voice to portray your supervisor- “‘Oat milk isn’t even milk. How do you even milk an oat?’”

“How do you milk an oat?” He asks with knitted brows.

“I-” you pause and tap at the table. “I always thought you blended it. You know, like peanut butter?”

“Yeah, but people don’t drink peanut butter.”

“I bet you that there is at least one person in the world who does drink peanut butter.”

“Okay, you find me that person and I’ll buy you a coffee next time.”

“Yeah, yeah-” you wave your hand, trying not to let your competitive side leak out. “Anyways, I’m sure they make almond milk the same way. Blended.” You lift a hand and point with your index, swirling it in the air.

“I’m partial to oat,” he admits.

“I gotta be honest, I think all milk tastes the same,” you whisper out the confession, covering the side of your mouth with one hand.

“Oh, now you’re being difficult,” he says with a roll of his eyes, adjusting his glasses by the leg.

“I’m not, I swear! It just all tastes the same. Doesn’t stop me from asking for it at the coffee shops.”

“Even if it tastes the same?”

“I like feeling fancy,” you lilt, and he laughs.

“So you’re tricking your mind?”

“Oh totally.”

“With the fake milks?”

“Real, regular milk,” you counter. “Soy is fake- I think.”

“Oh, soy is fake, but the others aren’t.” He scoffs. “That’s where you draw the line.”

You laugh, taking the final sip of your drink. “Yeah, obviously.”

He joins your laughter, dipping his head down, and stray hairs fall in front of him. When he lifts his head, his smile is wide and open, and he has such a nice laugh- deep and the type that shakes his body. Pride makes your chest swell and heat burn over your cheeks at making him not only smile, but laugh. Fighting back the urge to move away the tray pieces of hair that have fallen, you clench your hand into a fist, your laughter slowly dying down.

A quiet moment befalls the two of you, and you both look at each other. You rub the bottom of your shoe over the top of the other, and check the time. With a click of your tongue, you gather your trash onto the tray.

“We should probably get going. It’s close to closing time for them,” you explain, nodding your head back to the register where two workers chat.

“Oh, should we?” Despite questioning you, he follows your example and gathers his own trash.

“As someone who used to work customer service jobs, yeah.” Tossing your trash into the designated area, you stack the tray overhead. “I’m pretty sure that the employees probably hate us by now.”

“Good point.” He holds the door open for you, and you follow him back across the mostly empty parking lot. Inside the car, he waits for the engine to heat, and he turns to you. “I apologize for keeping you so late.”

“No, this was,” you hesitate choosing your words, “fun.” You nod your head and pull your bag up onto your lap. “I had a good time.”

“I’m glad that you did,” he says softly, giving you a final look before he gives his attention to the road.

After a long day, you stand in front of your building, Jonathan joining you. You’ve always been much more comfortable with chatter than you have been with silence, but as you stand with him, you don’t feel as uncomfortable. You might even like the silence if it gives you reason to look at him. You stand on the steps leading to your home, finally looking him in the eye, and you hate the fact that he has such soft brown eyes.

“Thanks for driving me home. And getting me a drink.” You kick at the ground, scuffing up at the dirt that lays in a thin layer. “And paying for dinner.” A jitteriness falls over you, and you can only twist and grip onto the strap of your bag. “Thanks for all of that Dr.-” he gives you a narrowed look and you quickly correct yourself- “Jonathan.”

“You don’t have to add my title,” he tells you. Beside him, his hand twists at the hem of his shirt.

“Force of habit,” you say shrugging. Clearing your throat, you start. “Still, thanks. This was nice, Jonathan.” You like his name, and you hate the way that it makes you feel.

He nods, and raises a hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Well, thank you for accompanying me to dinner. I had a good time.” He says your name delicately, rolling off his tongue, and you never thought that you would want to hear your name repeated over and over.

“No worries,” you answer breathlessly. You can’t think around him. Everything feels as if it’s too much- too hot, too close, too sweet.

It was one day- two technically- but it was a short amount of time. You wear your heart on your sleeve despite trying so desperately not to. All it took was one day with him, and you think that you might like him.

Oh, how you wish he was with someone else, then you could give yourself a reason to look away from him.

With cotton stuffed into your mouth, you don’t trust yourself any further. You think that you should go inside- that maybe you shouldn’t be taking up his time. A part of you wonders when you’ll see him again. Shifting your weight between each foot, you pat your hands on your thighs, drying off the clammy feeling. You wish he would start talking again. Or maybe you should. If you go inside, then this could all be over. You turn your foot, and wave your hand in a goodbye, when he starts to speak.

“Will you be joining another tour group?” There’s a hint of hope that’s weaved into his words. He’s looking at you, and you wonder if you look pretty.

“As much as I enjoyed it, no.” You think you imagine seeing his shoulders slump at your words. “It wasn’t really for me. It was nice, but much more kid-centered.” His glasses are slipping down his nose and you wonder if he’d get upset if you pushed them up. “Will you be going to the café tomorrow?”

“I work tomorrow,” he admits.

“Oh,” you clear your throat, and fighting away the burning feeling that is burning in your chest, you suck in a deep breath. It makes sense to do this now. You have to take a risk. It’s dumb and highly unprofessional, but you need to tell him something. He has to stick around, just for a moment longer, just so you could get whatever pink and sweet is in you, out. “Would-” he word comes out much softer than you would have liked- “Would you want to exchange numbers, maybe?” You hope he says no.

“Really?” He looks so shocked, and so happy. A grin tilts his lips upwards, and like seeing his smile.

Nodding, you rub the flat of your middle finger against your jawline. “Yeah. It would be a better alternative than meeting during lunch on a tour group or a random chance meeting at the café. Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m okay with it,” he says eagerly.

You nod eagerly, unable to fend off your smile. “Cool, cool.” You suck in a deep breath, and wait for a moment, before you start to pat your pockets, pulling out your phone and clicking at the ‘New Contact’ section. Holding the phone to him, he grabs the device and places his information.

Holding the phone tight in your hands, you tap your fingers against the back of the case. “I’ll message you later?”

“I’ll look forward to it.” He lifts his hand and waves at you. You watch his back as he steps into his car.

You can hardly believe that you even made it inside without dropping your keys from excitement and nerves. Behind your door, you clasp your hand over your mouth, pitifully trying to stop the smile that beams across your features. Oh, this isn’t fair. And oh, you can’t wait to message him.

381 notes · View notes

arkhamjack · 8 months ago

Text

CW for gore and suicidal ideation (TriMax Vol. 7) also Spoiler warning!

EDIT: I am a drama queen and just assume a lot of Trimax readers misinterpreted this scene bc I saw like only two people do it but I’m also using this as an excuse to yap about Vash and Knives’ personalities bc it was super interesting in this volume ok byyeee read on:

Is it just me or is the majority of the fandom under the impression that it was Knives who stabbed Rem?? Because it was actually Vash. Which I think says a lot about their actual personalities vs how the fandom perceives them.

Analysis under the cut!

In classic Nightow fashion, it's hard to figure out wtf is going on and you gotta read over it multiple times, but look:

After the discovery of Tesla, Knives faints and is placed in a little incubator thing or whatever and Vash laments the fact he remained awake to mull over the horrors. From this point on, Knives is not in the picture bc he's busy honk mimimi (which is actually something he employs as a coping mechanism throughout the story... his precious beauty sleep...)

Now, Vash is refusing to eat and lashes out at Rem, expressing his disdain for being stuck on a spaceship with all these nasty humans.

Rem once again tries to get Vash to eat, peeling him a fruit.

Vash lunges for the knife and attempts to stab himself, but Rem stops him.

Vash is locked in a reactive state - he's in shock and acting out. This is where I think ppl miss the mark in interpreting the twins and why Vol. 7 is so important.

Vash can actually be nasty as hell. He ain't all that babygirl. His silly goofy facade is a way of integrating himself into the human world sure - but it's also lying to himself. He's impulsive, stubborn, and dare I say arrogant with his Messianic martyr type shit. (EDIT: I’m being a bit harsh here… I mean yeah he’s the only person on Gunsmoke who’s got a chance against Knives but like getting up in townspeople’s business gets really annoying imo like I understand why he does it but man…that’s why we’ve got Wolfwood bc narrative foil and whatever… anyway)

Knives on the other hand, internalises everything. Though he may appear to be the one who lashes out, and yes of course he's also arrogant, but it's mostly projection. He is in a MAD state of denial. For all his talk of being a superior being, that humans are icky and should all perish, yada yada yada, he actually wishes for love and acceptance - he wants to be safe.

Obviously, his head is too far up his ass to admit it, and he's always too busy tweaking about how annoying Vash is and blaming Rem for everything to actually try and sit down and think of better ways to do things but ANYWAY

(You know who else's head is up their ass? Vash. The twins are actually so alike if you really study them!! Anywayyyy)

That was Knives' whole deal from THE VERY BEGINNING. Knives was the one to cry in relief when Conrad and the crew accepted them, not Vash. Vash was more like "ok cool! life might not be so bad! yipee!" and then Knives had to Big Fall about his internalised plantphobia or whatever etc etc.

I AM GETTING SIDETRACKED !! ok so

The stabbing occurs. Again, hard to tell it's actually occurring bc Nightow, but yeah Vash stabbed Rem. Not Knives! Bro has passed out for a couple days now lol.

More evidence it's Vash - Vash was the one to express feeling suicidal. Knives cannot express anything to save his life bc he's the king of internalisation and deflection and projection lmao. Also yeah he's still eeping.

Oh look! He rises! Completely unaware of the drama that has unfolded! Not that he'd care! He's set on a mission to hurl humanity to the dust bowl of Gunsmoke! Little scamp.

Ok take from all that what you will!

Thanks for reading <3

#trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #millions knives #trigun knives #vash #vash the stampede #trigun vash #trigun rem #rem saverem

104 notes · View notes

f4c4r · 1 month ago

Text

Relationship between Men and females based on the bible

I want to go deeper in my understanding of the natural relationship between Men and females so I’m turning to what was written in patriarchal times. After all, those living in a thriving patriarchal culture would have the most clear understanding of how the true natures of Men and females are expressed.

One of the most well-known from those times is the Christian bible. I am not religious at all and I make no claims to have an inspired, spiritual understanding of what I read, I simply read the words and apply what makes sense to me, as I understand it. Whether these stories are true or not, there is still much I can learn from them. I have used the NKJV translation.

The bible makes it absolutely clear, from the start the Man is superior and in charge of His female because He was made first. People say Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 creation accounts conflict, as Genesis 1 says God created them Male and female implying equal standing. This isn’t so. Genesis 1 gives an overall account of the order of creation and says humans were made Male and female. Genesis 2 goes into greater detail of what actually happened during human creation. The Man was created first and it was some time later the female was created from His rib. Enough time lapsed to show Adam none of these other creatures were suitable as His helper, His female. This creates a very clear divide in human creation. Man was created first. female second.

In Genesis 2 it says:

7 And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.

but for Eve

22 Then the rib which the Lord God had taken from man He made into a woman, and He brought her to the man.

God breathed life into Adam, had close personal, direct, physical contact in that act. Not with Eve, if that happened it would have been recorded. This was probably because the spark of life God gave Adam was present in all His cells, so Eve was given that spark when Adam’s rib was used to create her. It was already there, no need to give it to her again. This also means Adam literally gave life to Eve via his rib.

When God presented Eve to Adam, Adam’s response:

23And Adam said: “This is now bone of my bones And flesh of my flesh; She shall be called woman, because she was taken out of Man.”

Adam refers to her as ‘this’. ‘This’ is used to describe objects and possessions. Clearly, it outlines Adam saw Eve as His property as she had literally been created from a piece of Him. God made Eve out of Adam’s rib and gave it back to Him as His female. Adam was given ownership over Eve in the same way He has ownership over all His own body parts. All of Eve was created out of the rib - even her very life spark - not a single part of her was independent from Adam, therefore, there is no independence in females. females were created for Men specifically, to be fully owned, subjugated and controlled.

In Genesis 3, we are given more of the story through Eve’s tempation

2 And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden; 3 but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die.’

God didn’t say even if they touch it, this was something Eve added all on her own. The very first description of female behaviour shows she is not to always be trusted to be truthful and can be easily temped.

After eating the fruit, God asks Adam how He knows they are naked. Adam honestly explains Eve gave Him the forbidden fruit to eat and God then turns to Eve:

13 And the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?”

There has been some kind of debate about who was responsible for introducing sin by eating the fruit. Here clearly, God blames Eve. He asked Adam who told you, you were naked and asks Eve what has she done? God did not blame Adam or say He should have controlled her better, he simply points out Eve is at fault.

In response to Eve disobeying God, she is told:

3:16 “Your desire shall be for your husband, And he shall rule over you.” This makes clear for once and for all, Men are to rule over females.

To Adam God says “17 Then to Adam He said, “Because you have heeded the voice of your wife...”

Adam’s punishment was not for eating the fruit of the forbidden tree, it was for letting his wife dictate to him what should be done. Adam abdicated his authority in this one area which had disastrous consequences. Adam allowed her to make one decision. God has made it clear, at all times, in all things it is the Man who makes the decisions. His word is law in the home. The Man is to rule over His family.

#patriarchy #serve the patriarchy

35 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 9 months ago

Note

Do you think Adam will come back as a demon, having to redeem himself? It kind of feels like that's where the few hints at smth deeper going on with him are going.

Hi!

I mean, there is this:

As Charlie and Emily sing about amoral angels staying in the sky, the focus is on Adam and he looks very triggered. I also personally hope he comes back because I think his character offers great opportunities to explore others. Like Lucifer, Lute, Sera, Lilith and Charlie herself. That said, I am also okay if he is meant as a one-season villain tbh. In this case, I trust it is because the story has other plot-lines to follow. Also, it would be an hilarious call-back to his line:

A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month Gotta say, I can't wait to Come down and exterminate you

Adam, you're either right in how THE man only lives once, or you are so wrong and Charlie is so right, that you yourself get a second chance :P

That said, I think there is clearly more about Adam, Eve, Lilith and Lucifer's dynamic that needs to be addressed (either through Adam coming back or in other ways):

The series starts with the retelling of the myth of Eden in the form of a fairy tale. Still, it is clear that we are given only partial information.

Lucifer: Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer…or the second! Bowchicka pow pow!

Sera: He was the first human soul in heaven…

It is very unclear what happened with Eve and Adam himself is judged a "virtuous soul", after his human death. Not only that, but he affirms what brought him into Heaven is:

Vaggie: reading list "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man." Are you fucking serious?

Except that Adam never once acts selflessly throughout the whole season. So, I wonder if an eternity spent being spoilt in Heaven made him worse.

In short, the things I am interested in when it comes to Adam are:

If and how Heaven has changed him

His relationship with Lucifer and Lilith (Eden + his pact with Lilith)

Let's now try to analyze Adam, starting with what we have in the series.

ADAM THE ANGEL

Adam: Call me, Dickmaster.

Adam is introduced as a powerful angel and a jerkass mysoginist. Both things are important, as they tie to different conflicts:

Adam is a genocidal maniac, who mistreats everyone. Still, he is considered a virtuous soul and holds some authority in Heaven.

Adam is "the man" and is shown discriminating and dismissive towards women. According to Charlie's recount in Overture, his mysoginy might be at the very root of the conflict behind the forbidden fruit and the birth of Hell.

These two sides of Adam come together in his interactions with Charlie, who is both a demon and a woman.

1- He dismisses Charlie's ideas of redemption in his song Hell is Forever, which is full of Christian references:

'Cause it's cut and dry Fair is fair, an eye for an eye And, when all's said and done (said and done) There's the question of fun And for those of us with divine ordainment Extermination is entertainment! Guitar solo, fuck yeah!

In general, he sees himself as superior to demons because he was judged worthy of Heaven. In his mind, this makes him automatically the "good guy", while people who exhibits virtues like Charlie or Angel are still beneath him, as they are demons. In short, he has a black and white mentality:

'Cause the rules are black and white There's no use in tryin' to fight it

2- He flirts with Charlie and calls her with sexist names:

Adam: I got you again, bitch! *laughs* Fuckin' hilarious!

Not only that, but his overall characterization highligths his sexism to hilarious degrees. Some examples:

His favourite food is ribs because Eve was born from one. So, it is as if he likes "eating women up"

He leads an army of hot and lethal women, who follow his orders in battle (classical male fantasy)

He gives Vaggie the name "Vagina" and calls it "the best thing ever"

So, Adam is a combination between a zealous religious fanatic and the patriarchy. All neatly tied up with jock imagery (his tunic resembles a letterman jacket). As a result, his interactions with Charlie explore two different power dynamics:

Heaven vs Hell or to better say Hell is Forever vs A Happy Day In Hell. Is Hell a place of eternal damnation or is it a chance of redemption?

Man vs Woman - Adam is far more childish and less intelligent than Charlie, but she has to kiss his butt because he is in a role of power. As it often happens in human society.

The question is: "How can such a person be worthy of Heaven?"

SERA THE MOTHER

Sera: I thought, since I'm older It's my load to shoulder

Sera is Adam's authority figure, as she is the only one Adam shows respect for. He asks for her validation and is ashamed after disappointing her. Considering Adam was created by the angels, it is easy to infer Sera is probably the closest thing he has to a mother. This also ties with Sera's overall role in the narrative, where she is framed as a parental figure to Emily and to the other angels and souls:

Not only that, but her parenting style seems rooted in the determination to protect those in her care, no matter what:

Sera: It is my position as the head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs.

Even if she has to lie to them:

I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to Do what was required

Or if others end up hurt in the process:

Sera: Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us… and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect.

She keeps Emily and the rest of Heaven in a Gilded Cage and chooses to exterminate the Sinners. In a sense, she too sees the world in black and white, just like Adam. Her loved ones. All the others. This attitude is present in her relationship with Adam too, as she enables him. Some examples:

She gives Adam permission to lead the exterminations. Even if Sera thinks killing Sinners is necessary, there is no reason to entrust it to Adam, who has a very obvious grudge against Lucifer.

He lets Adam boss around the exorcists and mistreat them. Like he did with Vaggie. In general, Sera gives him no rules, if not a generic "do not embarass me" one. And even then, Adam faces no consequence after he reveals the secret.

Sera is angry at Adam's cruelty towards Charlie and reproaches him for targeting the Hazbin Hotel. Still, this is all she does. She could have stopped Adam from attacking the hotel. And yet, she only makes a single remark.

In general, Sera gives Adam free reign and even fulfills all his cruellest requests. This is made clear during Charlie and Adam's questioning.

Since the beginning, Charlie is set up to lose and the seating arrangement shows it. Sera and Emily are at the very top, as they are the judges. Below them there is the jury and then there are the two sides. Still, Charlie and Adam are not at the same level. Adam is higher, while Charlie is at the very bottom.

Sera sustains Adam's petty objection:

Adam: Objection, lame and unoriginal. Sera: Sustained. No further dictionary references please.

But she is about to refuse Charlie's request and only agrees to it because of Emily:

Charlie: Angel will make good decisions, come on! We have to keep watching! Please? Sera: sighs Yeah, I don't know. Emily: Yeah, let's give him a chance. Sera: Very well, the court will allow it.

Finally, when Adam reveals Vaggie's secret (which is irrelevant to the matter at hand), Sera allows it to happen:

She is the one projecting Vaggie's angelic shadow on the wall. Once again she enables Adam's cruelty, instead of stopping it.

in short, Adam is a person who ascends to Heaven, but once there he spends millenias without anyone questioning or disagreeing with him. All his self-serving fantasies are fulfilled and he is never punished nor called out. As a result, he clearly becomes complacent and grows worse:

Lucifer: So, this is what you been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you've really let yourself go, buddy.

Lucifer's taunt mostly references Adam's physique. Still, this is metaphorically true for Adam's soul, as well. In the end, Adam regresses in Heaven, instead of evolving. Moreover, he never addresses nor solves the key event, which defined his life.

LUCIFER AND LILITH

Adam: You judging me? You're the most hated being in all of creation!

Adam's sense of self is clearly warped by what(ever) happened in Eden. Specifically, he is hurt that both his relationships with Lilith and Eve ended up badly (apparently). This is why:

He overcompensates by being overly masculine. He insists he is THE MAN and keeps blubbering about his love adventures. And yet, he has still no wife, that we know of.

He projects his own feelings on Lilith and Lucifer, to the point that thousands of years later, he chooses "messing their home", as his hobby. Specifically, he tries to steal Lilith away (through their deal) and to make Lucifer as miserable as possible ( which is why the King of Hell sends Charlie to meet Adam at the very beginning - he doesn't want to deal with the Exorcist).

This behavior is mirrored in how he treats the Princess of Hell too.

On the one hand Adam associates what he considers Charlie's positive traits with Lilith:

Adam: To think someone as worthless as you landed Lilith's little hottie. 'Grats on that I guess.

On the other hand Adam links what he believes to be Charlie's negative traits with Lucifer:

Adam: Risking your immortal life for sinners? That's some crazy shit, even for Lucifer's brat!

So, it is implied he still wants Lilith and despises Lucifer. These emotions are mirrored in his design, specifically his horned mask:

The horns ironically show that Adam was cheated on by (both?) his wife(s)

The horns give him a demonic-like appearance, which may be just another way Adam tries to appear more badass than what he is. All while trying to look more like a demon (Lucifer) to begin with

In other words, Adam is nothing, but a man scorned. Even moreso he is a person, who deep down could never really like himself. Hence why he chooses to wear a mask 24h/24h. Adam wants to be either a Demon or a God, but deep down he is just the Man. Ironically, this is what he could never truly accept about himself.

ADAM- A MAN

In the final fight, Adam is unmasked and we get a glimpse of his real self. What is he like? His design is far more average and human-like than other angels and demons. It is even inspired by his real voice actor, apparently. Why is that so? Because deep down Adam is no-one special. He is just a dude. He is the man. Not even that. He is a man. A person.

Sadly, though, he refuses this truth and tries to be more:

Adam: I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshipping me, you ungrateful, disgusting, fucking losers-

He tries to be God and in this way he becomes worse than a Demon. He dies pathetically, after refusing mercy:

Adam: No… you don't get to end this! I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man, and you're just some fucking clown or something!

He sees Lucifer as his enemy, but the King of Hell barely registers his presence and only considers him in relation to Charlie. His true opponent turns out to be a small woman of low status. And even she barely considers him as someone worthy of her attention.

And yet, Adam is still a man and he shows humanity in death:

Lute: NOOOO! Sir! Sir! Stay with me sir! ADAM!

Lute is his one genuine bond and probably the only person who earnestly makes him happy.

If only he could have pursued his humanity, he might have not turned into a monster. He might have developed a healthier sense of self and could have become happier. Instead, he could never love himself for being just a man and has spent eternity trying to be someone different.

HEAVEN ISN'T MEANT TO SUCK A LOT

Adam embodies the anti-theme.

Charlie thinks that everyone can redeem themselves:

Charlie: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed That any soul can change! Then they will know everyone can be redeemed From the evil to the strange!

Adam thinks nobody truly can:

'Cause Hell is forever Whether you like it or not Had their chance to behave better Now they boil in the pot

Charlie tries to grow into her own person:

Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home

Adam turns himself into an idol:

The golden exorcists bring to mind the golden calf from the Bible.

Charlie thinks happiness and beauty can be found even in Hell:

I can hear all their stories The lost and displaced And I know that they're more of an acquired taste But if I open the door and I give them a place At my Hazbin Hotel It'll be a happy day in Hell!

Adam can't find happiness and beauty in Heaven and his only source of joy is knowing others suffer more than him:

Fuckin' Hell is forever And it's meant to suck a lot!

And yet, Hell might be meant to suck a lot, but Heaven shouldn't:

St. Peter and Emily: 'Cause every single day in Heaven is a happy day Welcome to Heaven

Still, Heaven could not make Adam happy. And if Heaven can't make its own people happy, then what is the point of such a Kingdom?

Sera: It's your position to keep them happy and joyful. Emily: How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?

Adam is a character that embodies Heaven's problems, not only because he is an evil monster, but even moreso because he is an unhappy and unsatisfied man.

Here are my two cents on him :D We'll see if he comes back and manages to get some development!

Thank you for the ask!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous #sera hazbin hotel

136 notes · View notes

lopsicle · 22 days ago

Text

~Winter Wonderland~

TickleTober Day 12 Mischief:

Characters: Lee! Simon, Ler! Winter King.

Summary: Simon’s been down in the dumps ever since entering the Winter King’s dimension and that just won’t do for WK, who tries everything to cheer him up.

Warnings: Tickle Fic, Simon being self-deprecating

•••

Simon felt like shit. Physically and mentally. He hadn’t given himself a wink of sleep since…since, when was the last time he had slept? It had to of been before Finn took him out into the woods, how long had it been since then? It was hard to tell when travelling through a horrifying multiverse, even though this new dimension wasn’t scary. It was just…troubling.

This Winter King guy really rubbed Simon the wrong way, and it just made him feel even shittier about himself to have an ounce of bitterness or jealousy towards the man. Yet, how could he not? The Winter King was everything Simon wanted to be; charismatic, helpful, powerful, he even fought off the Crown’s curse by himself! Simon couldn’t resist the Crown for anything, not himself, not Marceline, not even Betty. Betty. Oh, if she could see him now, to see that this is what she…was lost for.

Simon hadn’t moved from the Winter King’s throne, sitting at the foot of it with his rigid back leaning against the piercing cold chair. His borrowed, immaculate clothes kept him safe from the cold just enough so that he wasn’t shiver, but not enough to feel an annoying chill against his back. Fionna was off training, doing something productive while Cake actually managed to enjoy herself here. Simon wanted to join them, but partaking in anything here felt like eating the Forbidden Fruit, like he’d be admitting his flaws. Like he was saying the Winter King was superior.

Which he was, but Simon couldn’t bring himself to say that. Not out loud.

His host seemed to have grown concerned though, he had been observing Fionna duelling valiantly against his ice knights with a proud smile before his gaze lingered over to Simon, and his expression became something similar to a teacher worried about a troubled child. Though he fixed his expression, putting on his usual confident, cheerful face before skating across the ice masterfully over to Simon, standing before the shorter, curled up man.

“Now, Simon, my throne is lovely but surely there’s something more entertaining in this kingdom for you! And if there isn’t, I can make it for you in a jiffy!” The Winter King offered with a white smile, Simon managed to tilt his head up to meet his gaze, offering a polite yet deflated smile.

“Thank you but I…think I’ll be fine here, I’m just tired, it’s been a long few days.” Simon gave his usual excuse, hoping it would deter the Winter King. He underestimated just how perceptive he was; he shook his head at Simon with a gleeful expression.

“Oh, my dear, sweet Simon, did you forgot that we’re the same person at our core? I know that lie, I used it myself when things were rough many-a-times and I know that it won’t get you anyway.” The Winter King took on a more vulnerable tone, tenderly offering Simon his hand with an encouraging, hopeful expression on his face.

Well fuck, he’d look like an asshole if he didn’t go with him now. That and he was kinda right, sulking in the corner about how much he sucks wasn’t gonna fix much. Cautiously, he placed his hand in the Winter King’s who suddenly yanked him up delightfully, his demeanour switching back seamlessly to his excitable self.

“Splendid choice, fellow Petrikov! I have the perfect activity in mind to get you out of that dark corner of your brain you’ve wandered off to!” The Winter King called out as he dragged Simon along behind him, who was letting out petrifying squeals and grunts as the two of them plummeted across the ice, cold air brushing past their ears. Sliding across the ice, the Winter King kept a strong grip on Simon’s hand, keeping him as steady as one could be when plummeting through the snow. He also flipped the two of them in the air a few times, just for the sake of it.

“Shouldn’t we slow down?! We’re heading right for the that edge!” Simon cried out, noticing that the Winter King was sending them to straight to one of the many lavish balconies of his ice castle. The King simply chuckled in response, his glasses shining with pride.

“Oh, yes, yes we are because that’s our destination!” With a frightened yelp from Simon and a joyous squeal from the Winter King, he sent the two of them hurtling from the balcony, before simply outstretching his hand and expertly creating a comfortable ramp of ice for them to slide down, right to the courtyard outside his castle. The Winter King kept his footing as he slid down whereas Simon simply clung onto him for safety, mentally cursing himself for ever agreeing to this. The King’s boots touched the ground with a satisfying crunch, maintaining his balance as he landed on the snowy landscape. Simon skidded against the ground, nearly slipping on his face but the Winter King caught him by wrapping his arm around Simon’s waist, keeping his footing steady.

“Are you trying to get us killed or do you just enjoy throwing me around like a ragdoll?!” Simon furrowed his brown as he panted for breath, resting his hands on his knees, hunching over slightly. The Winter King grinned from ear to ear.

“Yes!” Before Simon had the chance to rightfully give him an agitated earful for his behaviour, he continued speaking in his pompous, fun-loving tone. “That was very necessary for what we’re about to do, Simon, for we are about to engage in an activate that needs you to be on your guard, thinking straight, on top of your game, heart pumping and lungs heaving!” With an amazed expression, the Winter King held his arms over his head in a grand gesture.

“We’re going to have a snowball fight!” Simon stood there for a few moments just processing the information, blinking slowly in disbelief.

“You did all of that just for…a snowball fight?” Simon sighed, not sure why he expected anything different from his new companion.

“Why, of course, everything in the Winter Kingdom needs a little pizazz, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun otherwise! Speaking of,” The Winter King raised his arms through the air as if he was pushing them through water and before the pair of them, a few short walls of ice and snowy cover appeared on opposite sides of the courtyard.

“There we go, now there’s a little more flavour!” The Winter King smiled proudly, Simon was wondering how going up against what was practically an ice elemental in a snowball fight was even fear, but persisted.

“So uh, how do we start this?” Simon asked awkwardly, standing unsure of himself next to the impressive display of the Winter King’s power. Said King turned away from Simon as if he was thinking, but suddenly turned back, rolling a small snowball about within his hands before chucking it at Simon’s waist.

“Like that!” He smiled widely, playfully, Simon politely tried to match his energy with a competitive glare, falling down to his knees and shovelling up some snow. The Winter King retreated to his cover, grinning like a schoolgirl as he sat tucked behind a snow wall, peeking out from around its edge and-

Bam! He was struck square in the face by a snowball, it’s cold remnants dripping down his chin and staining his skin with a vanilla glow.

“Headshots are cheap shots!” The Winter King called out playfully, wiping away his eyes and ducking back behind his cover. The two of them went on with their fight, scrambling to make more snow balls, chucking them at each other, chasing each other around, sliding across the ice, of which Simon slipped many times. Simon took a few hits to his chests and limbs, but he managed to knock the Winter King’s crown clean off of his head at one point, sending the two into a laughing fit.

“I am sohoho sorry!” Simon apologised, keeling over as he offered the Winter King his crown back. The Winter King took it back with hands shaky from laughter and placed it back atop his head, placing one of his hands against Simon’s shoulder for support.

“D-dohohn’t be, that was a superb shot, Simon! But, that doesn’t mean your getting out of this that easily!” The Winter King commented with a sly grin that Simon didn’t have the chance to question the meaning of before he felt his cool fingertips he jabbed into his armpits.

“Ah! H-heheheehy!” Simon squeaked at the abrupt tough, his arms instinctively coiling to his sides. His legs gave out under him and he leaned into the Winter King for support, who wrapped an arm around his waist considerately.

“Don’t “hey” me, Simon, this is a very fair punishment! Crown shots are cheap shots, haven’t you heard?” The Winter King teased him, something that he obviously just made up as an excuse for…this. Why he was doing this was still unknown to Simon…until he remembered something the Winter King said earlier; they were the same person. He must’ve known that Simon would end up enjoying this too; Simon would’ve found it considerate if it wasn’t so, so flustering.

“Pleahahase, thihis is chihihildish!” Simon weakly protested, or at least it sounded like a protest. The Winter King stayed determined, slipping his hands down to Simon’s sides and jabbing his nails into his sides, wriggling them about.

“Simon, sweetie, we were having a snowball fight a few moments ago and you didn’t mean that at all! It doesn’t seem like your minding this all that much either!” The Winter King smirked, feeling no need to be discreet about that little secret. Simon did on the other hand, his cheeks turned a dark shade of red as he gripped onto the hem of the Winter King’s shirt tightly, as if he was begging for him to put those words back into his mouth.

“Dohohon’t be rihihidiculous!” Simon spat out, tilting his face down to hide his glowing cheeks. He didn’t know why he was trying to argue with WK like this, but it arguing an impossible lie felt easier than admitting an embarrassing secret.

“Oh, but I am ridiculous, silly even! That’s why us Petrikovs like this sort of thing; it’s playful and rough and so energetically soothing, don’t you think?” As the Winter King kept going on, Simon could feel that nervous feeling in his chest growing stronger and stronger. The Winter King’s hands began skittering and scribbling around Simon’s torso, his pristine nails digging into the fabric of his suit.

“M-mahahahahahahybe!!” Simon relented, finding it hard to deny such a vibrant, self-assured figure. T hat seemed to please the Winter King though, his fingers eased up on Simon’s waist a little bit, sticking to just tracing against his skin.

“Very good, now would you like this to continue or are you feeling better?” The Winter King murmured considerately, surprising Simon from just how easily softness and vulnerability came to him, simple as spawning ice from his fingertips.

Simple as manifesting your own reality.

“Cahahan’t it be bohohohth?” Simon chose. The Winter King felt Simon’s grip on him loosen slightly.

“Now your thinking right! Of course we can, my dear Petrikov, now let’s see where to start…your ribs, hips maybe?”

Simon blushed, regretting his decision instantly but ultimately, he was enthralled about what was to come.

#sfw tickling community #tickle fic #tickle content #sfw tickle #tickletober #tickletober 2024 #augtickletober2024 #fionna and cake tickle #lee simon #lee simon petrikov #ticklish simon petrikov #lee winter king #they’re so homosexual #adventure time tickle

28 notes · View notes