#this is from early this week i just keep forgetting to post | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xeeljii · 6 months ago

Text

IM YR DOG

I am here to be yours I don't want you to hurt

WARNING! Explicit RPF!

Summary: Joost hasn’t been in a real relationship in a long while and when his first anniversary with you rolls around he fucks up royally.

Word count: 7,4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, no pronouns used for reader, angst but happy ending, established relationship, make up sex, premature ejaculation is romantic lol, multiple orgasms, shower sex.

IMPORTANT A/N! I usually write with an older/current age Joost in mind but this one feels more early 20s type so just keep that in mind.

Joost was finishing up his album, it was chaos and you had almost not seen each other in the week, texting sparingly and only ever feeling his presence when you got back from work and saw more of his clothes had disappeared and new ones appeared in the hamper, it was a storm brewing with both of you blissfully unaware. He hadn’t been sleeping much or at all, totally engrossed in his work, he gives you shit about your dedication to yours but he is the real workaholic, once he gets an idea can't stop until it is finished, even forgetting to eat or what day it is. Speaking of days, today was Saturday, also your anniversary. He had a reservation for a table at your favorite restaurant, had already planned every step of the day and the evening months ahead, like it was the world cup final and yet today of all days he didn’t text you at all. You assume that he must be in the studio finishing up something, and you would just meet up at the restaurant at six like you had planned.

However his brain was completely fried, overworked to exhaustion, the blinds of the studio pulled down to concentrate and phone thrown around somewhere in silence because he just NEEDED to get this las song done. He doesn’t know when the last time he had a proper meal was or what time of the day it was but when he finishes the song that had been driving him crazy for three days straight he feels he can final breath in relief. The tension in the studio had been palpable for a few days now but when he yells “Done!” triumphantly everyone feels at ease again.

“I think I need a drink or a few.” Someone suggests and everyone follows with jovial moods.

Joost is so tired but just wants to let loose for what feels like the first time in forever. The group ends up at someone’s house, alcohol starts being poured and the music is loud enough to deafen, someone’s neighbors will complain surely but right now as Joost sits on the couch finally able to not think about the album anymore he couldn’t care less. He just relaxes, drinks and smokes like it is his last night on earth and laughs with his friends until his stomach hurts.

You on the other side are sitting alone in a fancy restaurant table. You stay there far longer than you should, you text him and try to call him insistently but no luck. Did he get in accident? After an hour you start getting scared and desperate but don’t want to move in case he actually comes. You are a beautiful statue of nerves and anxiety glued to the table dumbly waiting for someone who isn’t coming. By the second hour you check your phone again, no reply but then you open instagram and see someone had posted a picture with his recognizable figure on the background, on closer inspection you can see cans of beer thrown around and bottles of liquor decorating every corner of the place. You feel as if a cold bucket of water has been dropped on your head. Your palms start sweating, you are holding onto the phone painfully thigh, you feel like everyone is watching you, like every couple in the restaurant is judging you and feeling pity for how stupid you are. You can’t stand it anymore and you stand from the table as gracefully as you can, feeling cold anger burn inside you, you pay for your drinks and get a taxi home. You are silently fuming and can’t stop the angry tears from falling from your eyes that you are wiping away furiously with your trembling hands.

Right after you enter your shared apartment and kick off your shoes you hear the door open again, there are heavy steps almost stumbling up to the living room before he sees you.

“Hi liefde.” He is smiling so widely, oblivious to your inner turmoil and just happy to see you in what has been way too long, he tries walking up to you but you move out of his way quickly.

You notice the stumble on his step and the smell reaches you, he is completely wasted. He tries to get his balance again resting his elbow on the kitchen counter and looking up at you. He wolf whistles or does his best attempt at it in the state he is in.

“You look so are pretty schat, did you have dinner with your friends?” His eyes are unfocused and half lidded it all makes to enrage you even more.

“I don’t know Joost, did you have drinks with yours?” You say venom dripping from every word and if he wasn't so intoxicated maybe he would notice, but instead he replies happily.

“Yeah! We finished the album!” He tries to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug but again you avoid him, shaking the grab of his hand from your wrist.

“You reek.” You say walking away from him to get a glass of water.

He is a little confused now but he has missed you so much he just wants a little kiss. “Yeah sorry.” he smiles sheepishly rubbing a hand through his messy hair but you don’t even look up, your back facing him.

“Liefde~” he purrs, his arms reach at your hips from behind, he pulls himself closer, wraps his strong arms around your middle and rest his head against the top of yours. “I missed you baby.” You don’t reply, don’t move at all, it is like you are barely breathing.

His brain is trying to catch up with what is happening, you would usually do something to hold him back, rest your hands against his or at least hum in acknowledgment if you are busy, but now in his arms it feels like he is holding at a cold marble statue. He is starting to panic a little, trying to remember something he did wrong and coming on empty handed. He waits a long moment before opening his mouth again.

“Wait did I forget to empty the dishwasher?” He asks timidly.

Unbelievable, he doesn’t even know it, doesn’t even remember, you had spent hours getting ready for a guy who stood you up to go drinking and doesn’t even know. You feel so stupid, in a second start second guessing every moment of your relationship, every tender word, every decision that got you to this place.

“I don’t know Joost, if it is so unimportant then maybe it isn’t worth your worry.” You reply almost in a whisper, your voice cracks in the last part.

You are angry but even more you are sad, you feel dumb and out of place in his life, all the little insecurities you had been carrying around come back with a vengeance to kick you when you are down. You doubt of the place you even have in his heart, the embrace of his arms feels fake rather than welcoming and you just push him away to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

You feel tears start to form at your waterline again, your heart feels heavy and you can barely breath in. You start to walk away.

When he fells you step away from his arms a cold fear goes straight up his spine. “Baby…” He calls out, panic clear in his tone.

You turn on your feet, defeated faced covered in tears. “It was our anniversary” You say, looking at him.

He looks paralyzed for a second and then you see the exact moment the words make sense in his head. “I didn’t-I forgot- we were gonna go to that place - oh fuck liefde.” He is stumbling all over his words, he makes a move to reach you but you lash out again, he has no right to be acting like this when he was the on that left you all alone.

“I was alone in that restaurant for hours! I kept texting and calling you like an idiot thinking you would show up thinking oh he wouldn’t forget me here, right? Everyone was looking at me like I am dumb and maybe I fucking am because why am I even with someone who can’t be bother to show up and instead goes get fucking wasted on OUR ANNIVERSARY!” Your throat feels raw with every word, you are screaming on his face, the anger and sadness boil into something vicious you want to hurt him, want to make him feel the same way you felt, it is an awful thing that you can’t stop.

“I am sorry liefde, please.”

You can’t stand to see his face right now, turn around and start walking to the bedroom. You want to get undressed quickly, get out of the stupid clothes he bought you and the stupid lingerie you had bought to match them, you wanted to surprise him but he ended up being the one to surprise you in the worst way possible. You feel so pathetic and small it is making you start to itch.

“Baby please look at me.” He keeps walking quickly behind you, doesn’t know what to say or what to do that will make you feel better “I will make it up to you, I promise.” He grabs at your wrist but you quickly pull away again almost painfully.

“Oh you promise? Well we have both have seen how much you care about your promises.” Your sarcastic tone cuts right through his heart. He looks hurt by that.

He is not used to anniversaries or birthdays or really keeping track of the year on events, he goes with the flow of things and that is exactly what you like about him but now it feels like he just doesn’t care about you and that thought is scary, it makes you feel completely unimportant like the old kettle on his kitchen or the forgotten old clothes at the back of the closet, it makes you mean.

“Schat, please, let's talk.” Every pet name feels like another slap.

It is your first anniversary together, he had been so excited, he wanted to make you happy and yet here you were angry and hurt all because of him, he didn’t want you to remember your first like this and all of a sudden he worries this would be the only anniversary he would get with you.

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want to see you right now. Go sleep on the couch or get out and go drinking I don’t give a fuck, just leave me alone!” You walk quickly into your shared room that right now feels like prison and close the door with a loud bang after you.

The shared apartment that is usually filled with music and laughter is now in complete silence, it feels cold and empty, the air is thick with tension and the only sounds are of the clock on the wall that you had bought and the dripping from the faucet on the kitchen that he had forgotten to fix. He stands in the middle of the living room unable to move, he wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to beat himself up for being so useless, wants to crawl on hands and knees and plead with you, but above all else he feels so guilty. He can’t get the image of your sad face from out of his head and this time it is all his fault. He never wants to hurt you, only wants to be the cause of your happiness. Maybe he really is not made to be in a relationship like some people had warned him, maybe even worse he doesn’t deserve it.

Inside the room you undress quickly and throw everything into the hamper. You change into your pajamas, usually you like to wear his clothes to sleep, his familiar smell makes you more relaxed but now you can’t deal with it. You throw yourself on the shared bed and cry silently against the pillows, they smell just like him it only adds fuel to the fire. You can’t stop yourself you feel the world crumbling around you and there is no exit, no one that will come save you and the only person who would you don’t even know if you matter to him at all.

After what feels like hours you must have become exhausted from your own crying and fallen into deep slumber.

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, your throat feels painfully dry, your head hurts, your eyes feel heavy but now you are too tired to cry anymore. You feel something at the end of the bed, you raise on your elbow and look down, there he is, the bastard, at the foot of your bed like a kicked puppy. He must have wormed his way in the room at some point during the night while you slept and fallen sleep still on his clothes. He looks so pale, you realize there are deep dark circles under his eyes and it pains your heart even in the middle of all this fighting. He has one cold hand holding lightly at your calf under the covers, so pathetic. You want to kick him, watch him tumble from the bed, but still he is your bastard, no?

You are still angry and you have no intentions of playing nice after what he just pulled on you, you hit him lightly with your foot and then harder when he doesn’t wake up. Finally groggily and confused he raises his head and immediately looks for your face in the dark of the early morning.

“I told you I wanted to sleep alone.” You say with a cold tone.

“Sorry, I missed you.” He says sniffling softly and rubbing at his eyes, you can tell from how red they are that he had been crying too. “Can we talk please?” He says now sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t know. Are you still drunk?” You throw back harsh words at him, he regrets it, really does, he truly forgot, not that it makes it okay but the thought of you sitting waiting for him all alone in a restaurant for hours breaks his heart.

“I am really very sorry.” You don't reply and just cross your arms over your chest. “I totally forgot and I know it is not an excuse, we just finished the new song and we wanted to celebrate, it slipped my mind then I lost track of time, I had no idea it was already Saturday.” He looks up at you expectantly.

“Well I’m happy you had fun!” It comes with more bite than perhaps you want it but still there is tension bubbling inside you.

“Liefde…” He sounds pleading.

You bite at your lip before speaking to keep in a pathetic little sound, you don’t want to start crying again so you swallow down harshly. “You really hurt me Joost.”

You hate saying those words, you hate the way his face breaks at them, but it is the truth and that hurts the most.

He starts crawling up the bed softly, slowly like a scared animal, as if you were going to push him away again. “I know, and I cannot apologize enough.” He still has his hand on your calf rubbing slow circles on your skin more to calm himself down than anything, you liked his little habit of fidgeting with his hands when he was nervous but now it is a painful reminder of everything that has happened. “I know I can’t make up for it right now but I really do love you, I love you so much and I am so sorry for hurting you I never wanted-“ his voice cracks, tears had started falling from his deep blue eyes at some point his voice sounds wet and strained, he sniffles trying to compose himself. “I really love you, I don't want to lose you”.

Your eyebrows knit in worry, you hate that he even thought that he would. “You won’t.”

You grab at his hand in your leg, and stroke lightly over it, you are gonna be okay, maybe not right now, maybe it will take some time to rebuild but it is okay, you are gonna give yourself and him the chance, it is going to be okay in the end or it is not the end.

He allows himself to cry at that, unhurriedly like he can finally breath again. He goes to place a kiss on your knee, looks up through wet eyelashes, you pull at him to sit up, he follows easily and when you pull your hand away he wants to chase it but doesn’t want to try his luck too much. You lay softly against the pillows before you open you arms motioning for him to come over, he does so quick that he almost crushes into you, whispering little I’m sorries against the crook of your neck, kissing softly at the warm skin so his love can reach you. You let him, you feel his soft sniffles against your skin, his cheeks, his whole face, is wet with tears, you run your fingers through soft strands of golden hair, you have cried enough for today and it feels the first time you can truly breath easy. With him in your arms you feel at peace again. You let him cry as he wishes and just caress his back through it until he calms down.

After a long while you think he might have fallen asleep on you but then he speaks up almost in a whisper. “I really do love you so much.”

You pull at his shirt gently so he will meet your eyes “I love you too Joost, always” You kiss him softly it taste salty but comforting, it taste like him, like home.

You continue to kiss softly like you are kissing for the first time again, it feels good and soothing to your heart, he kisses you like he wants to melt into you, you know he loves you as you do. You still want to tease him a bit though, so you pull back and whisper an inch against his lips.

“You know I bought a new lingerie set.” He perks up immediately, you shake your head, “Already took it off, since my boyfriend stood me up and all that.” You scrunch your nose for emphasis, he immediately pouts he can’t belive on what he is missing for his own mistakes.

“Liefde-” He starts to whine, you pinch at his cheeks.

“I was really looking forward to tonight.” You pout at him, he gets the hint immediately so in tune with you sometimes words are not needed.

“Can I at least make this up to you now?” He says big blue yes staring at you pleading while his hand goes to play with the band of your pajama shorts.

“Make it worth my while” You smile at him.

He crawls slowly over your body gently to not put any weight on you. You look up at him, eyes still a little heavy with sleep, a little red from crying, it makes his heart hurt uncomfortably in his chest. He goes to kiss at the high of your cheeks gently placing soft little pecks on your eyes on the tip of your nose until he finally reaches your lips. His first kiss is chaste a little nervous but you open your mouth for him so he starts moving more insistently, kissing you back, he pushes his tongue past your teeth caressing softly at the inside of your mouth. Your hands find the back of his neck and grab instinctively pulling him closer, his hands roam slowly down your body until he reaches the hem of your camisole, you nod against his kiss so he pulls it off you in quick motion before returning to your lips. He kisses along your jaw, leaves an open mouthed trail of kisses down to your neck, feels the lingering scent of your perfume, the one he got you while traveling, he licks at the column of your throat it sends your heart into overdrive. He kisses slowly on your collar bones, bites gently at the skin there while his hands rub sotting shapes at your waist where he is holding you.

He starts pressing big open mouthed kisses at the skin of your chest, reaches one hand to play with one of your soft mounds, slightly stimulating the sensitive skin of you nipple, you press against his touch so delicious and warm in the middle of the cold room. He is licking and sucking all over your tits but avoiding your most sensitive spot where you want him, your legs are rubbing together trying to get any friction going on your core. You grow tired of the teasing as much as he wants to take this slow you are impatient as ever.

“Joost-“ you whine pushing your chest against his face, he is breathing right against the skin of your nipple but won’t move.

“Yes baby?” He asks playing coy, how dare he tease you.

You press your breasts together pushing them towards his warm lips. “Please~” You say in a breathy whiny moan that has him twitching in his boxers.

He always sets out to take his time with you and loses that battle halfway through when you sound so needy, he can’t say no and much less now. He goes to lick over your nipple, the skin hardens at the contact he sucks gently first then harder moving his tongue on the tip while his hand plays with the other scratching softly with his nail at the pebbled skin. Kneads softly at the fat with his big hand then switches and repeats the process. He sucks at the perked bud, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration trying to bring you as much pleasure as he can to show you all the love he feels.

He keeps his beautiful ministrations down your tender body until he reaches you navel, kisses at your belly softly then moves even further south, reaches with sweet hands to the hem of your pajama shorts, you nod at him with a lip trapped between your teeth. He pulls the last of your clothing off in a swift motion, you feel how wet you are, naked, fully to his mercy. He kisses softly down the mound between your legs leaving a sweet peck at your clit that has you mewling but you know when it comes to this, it is as much about you as it is about him, so you let him take his time to do as he pleases. He kisses the inside of your thighs, because you are his, because he can. Takes his sweet time feeling the soft skin there, then licks a stripe up your core, it makes you twitch against his mouth. He adds to the wetness with his spit, with two fingers he spreads you open to kiss deeper into you, you feel his tongue exploratory at your hole softly pushing against the wet muscle.

“Yes like that” You keep giving little praises to keep him going, your hands go to his hair to keep him in place, as if that was even needed when between your thighs is his favorite place on earth. He could live like this eternally and be grateful.

He sucks gently at your clit, feels how hard it is on his tongue, licks up and down toying with it, you push your hips up towards his face, he moves his hands to hold at your hips, you are trembling slightly, he moves his hands and grabs behind your thighs and pushes one up placing it behind his shoulders to give himself more room.

“I’m so close Joost please don’t stop”. You say, he moans against your heat in response, it vibrates on every nerve, he is kissing and licking wildly into you like he is making out with your pussy rather than eating you out, it is too much you have too look away and yet the lascivious sounds he pulls from you fill the room.

He licks deeply into your cunt, into the deep sweetness, he fucks you with his tongue until you have tears rolling down your cheeks while his other hand presses soft but firm circles on your clit to bring you to an orgasm. You feel yourself unraveling quickly your hips pushing wildly against him while he continues to lick you through it, he feels your pussy twitch and clench on his tongue, he is so painfully hard at some point he started humping against the mattress to relieve tension, your sweet screams of pleasure are all the reward he wants. You pull on his hair so hard it hurts but he doesn’t separate even an inch from you while you ride your high trying to prolongate it as much as he can with soft licks to your core and deft fingers on your clit.

When the stimulation gets too much you start running from the touch, he places soft kisses on your wet folds as you push away his head gently but he holds you by the hips, hugging around your lower half to keep you close. He rest his head against one of your thighs and looks up so blissful, all pussy drunk and sweet, chin and mouth still wet with your release.

“Get naked, I want to feel you.” You say more as an order than a plea and he is up from the bed in a second.

He is still wearing the clothes he wore when he came home, not like he could have changed into anything since you locked yourself in the bedroom. He has sobered up but he is still a little slow and uncoordinated. Your hands moves slowly down you chest pulling lightly at your nipples still wet from his spit, he starts tracking your movements with his eyes, swallows deeply. He pulls his shirt over his head and catches how your hand goes between your legs and start softly toying with your bundle of nerves looking up to him through heavy eyelids. He can’t pull his eyes away, can’t move and feels his throat close, this is the hottest thing he has seen in his life and he is short circuiting. You start rubbing harder building back up to the edge of your orgasm.

“Quickly~” You moan incessantly rubbing at your clit, legs spread for his viewing pleasure and grabbing at your nipples with the other hand to give him a show and torture him a little more.

“Please have mercy on me, I’m gonna die.” He whines as he struggles dumbly to unbuckle his belt and fails.

“If I come before you are done I’m just going back to sleep.” You say with no real intention behind it, just to see him get more flustered, you like him like this all red and dumb, all for you.

You moan loudly pushing two fingers inside your heat. At the threat he pulls his pants and boxers down in a quick motion almost falling when his ankles get tangled in the fabric and he falls back at the edge of the bed. You laugh at that, how desperate he is still for you, even a year in the wonder isn’t lost at all. He loves the sound of your carefree laughter is so grateful he gets to hear it even when it is at his expenses.

“Good boy~” You almost purr. You spread your legs for him, letting him come near you slowly feeling the mattress dips at his weight but you put a hand in his stomach to stop him before he enters you. “You have to earn it.”

He is probably gonna cum without even putting it in, he has given up at this point, but he nods his head dutifully after the day he made you have and presses just his tip against your folds how you like it. You feel so hot under him and he is all but dripping over your core. He puts his hands at the back of your thighs pushing softly so you will give him more space, with your legs almost against your chest he sees the way you pussy flutters under his gaze almost like a flower, so wet and glistening for him. He starts rubbing softly against you lips making sure his tip presses generously against your clit every time he comes near it. You cunt is so pretty and shiny with your release, all for him, he can’t take his eyes away. He keeps moving rubbing against you as your hips try to match him to feel more of that delicious friction.

Soon you are moaning again under him. “I’m close Joost, I want to feel you inside” You whisper sultry.

He lets go of your thighs softly and pulls himself slowly up to kiss you, you kiss back without hesitation, tasting yourself in his tongue is so erotic. He lines up his erection with your entrance and starts pushing slowly into you. You are so pretty under him, your eyes shiny so brightly, your lips are red and there are tears falling from your eyes but this time they are from pleasure, he feels so fulfilled and lucky to be the one to have you like this it fills his heart so much he feels he will explode with love any second. He barely manages to push halfway into you before he feels a shot of electricity up his spine, his body collapses on top of yours, hips thrusting deeply into you as he comes without warning.

“Sorry, sorry. Oh fuck! Sorry.” He says between little whimpers, his hips stutter softly into your heat and he can’t do anything to stop it.

You smile to yourself while you hold him in your arms caressing softly at the expanses of his back, your hands move down below reaching to grab at his ass and pull him closer, wrap your legs around his hips, so he is deeper as he rides the last of his high. You keep pressing little kisses to the side of his face that he is now hiding in the crook of your neck while he comes down.

“I'm sorry liefde.” He says against the pillows, hugs you tighter still hiding his face, you press a kiss to the skin of his shoulder you can reach.

“It is okay, it is okay.” You say soothing him, you run your nails softly over the skin of his back.

You cup his face with your hands and pull softly so you can see him, his skin is a deep shade of red, it is adorable, you kiss him softly, he deepens the kiss and you suck at his tongue and feel more of your taste than whatever he had been drinking or smoking, it feels like he really belongs to you. You feel his cock kick weakly inside your walls, his cum dripping down your thighs slowly. You pull away barely and then push at his shoulder softly. He is now laying on his back and you are on top of him, his cock still inside you now softening.

“Liefde I can’t-” He says almost worried but you bend down to kiss his forehead.

“Just stay still a little longer I’m almost there.” You barely move on his lap, don’t want to torture him anymore. You just want to feel him inside when you reach your peak. You are rubbing at your clit firmly chasing after your own climax, you feel your walls spasm against him, he whimpers beneath you, his hands go to grab at you hips in delicious agony.

“You are so beautiful.” He is hypnotized by the way your chest moves when you breath, your beautiful features breaking into ecstasy, he catches the exact moment you come undone, he feels you clench around his soft dick almost tortuously tight.

“Joost!” You scream on top of him, he moans back feels you twitching all over him.

“Schat I love you so much.” He speaks into the darkness.

This time it is you who collapses on the bed, he holds you close to his chest, caresses at your back until you can breath normally again, presses kisses to your hair whispering sweet nothing in your ear.

You feel his release and yours wet your thighs, it feels too sticky to sleep in so you raise softly.

“I wanna shower.” You say pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He nods, pulls you off him with a wince, you feel so empty, your cunt clenching on nothing. He sits up on bed with you still sitting on his lap too tired to even attempt to move. He grabs at your thighs below your ass and pulls you up on his embrace like you are weightless, you wrap your legs around his middle and hold tightly at his neck as he carries you to the bathroom. He puts you down slowly making sure your shaky legs don’t betray you while he starts the shower then he lets you in before him and joins you right after. The water is warm you start cleaning yourself up slowly, the sadness of the day washes away down the drain you don’t want to think anymore about it. He rubs body wash on your back and washes it away with soft deft hands massaging at the clenched muscles of your neck, it feels so good to be taken care of.

You start cleaning between your legs, softly with your fingers between your folds before you feel his arms wrap around your middle and pull you to his chest under the water stream.

“Let me.” he says, his hand much bigger than yours hovers between your legs until you nod.

He pushes his fingers in you softly moving in and out, his other arm tightly wrapped around your stomach to keep you standing. You feel his release spill out of you, you have to hold your breath your arm reaches to hold at his forearm as he works his fingers deep into your heat, he starts pulling little moans out of your mouth, sometimes you feel he knows your body better than you do and in moments like this it feels true.

“Joost I thought you were just helping me clean up.” You whine, throwing your head back resting it agains his shoulder, he kisses at your hairline softly.

“Should I stop?” He asks genuinely, you know he never pushes you further than you want to go but you shake your head negatively so he continues.

It feels so good, your cunt is so tired and overstimulated but he is being so soft, so patient, fingering deep inside, touching at the spongey spot that makes you melt over and over again, you don’t know if it is from how pent up you have been with his absence, when usually you go at it every day, or the rollercoaster of emotions of the night has made you so sensitive but you feel another orgasm building softly in your core. You feel he has become hard again, hot member pressing at the back of you body, it is like he can never get enough of you. You reach a hand back and start stroking him gently.

“It is okay” He says ever so tender with you, never wanting to hurt you or make it uncomfortable for you, he knows you are tired and spent but you look up at him, wet hair sticking to your pretty face.

“I want you to feel good too.” You rub your ass against him to emphasize your words and make his will break. “Just be gentle.” you whisper, he bends down his neck so you can kiss him and you do so.

Your skin is so soapy and slimy, he thrust against you a couple of times, at the cleft between your asscheeks, his fingers are still deep in your cunt until he pulls away softly, you see your shiny release on his digits and it makes you blush. He grabs hold of your hips gently, holds himself in his hand then pushes into you slowly inch by inch but you are still so wet and warm there is no resistance just the fluttering feeling of your walls on his cock.

There is nothing more delicious than the feeling of being so connected, so close you can melt into one, he stays there without moving for a long moment just feeling you around him listening to your soft breath and the running of the water.

“You can move.” You tell him softly reaching your arm above you to hold at the back of his neck.

“Give me a second.” He says in a deep voice, he is trying to breath through his nose to calm down.

You laugh to yourself slightly and then push back on his hard dick. His hands grip tighter on your hips trying to keep you still.

“Scath, you are killing me.” He says smiling in disbelief.

“Good.” You reply looking up at him. He shakes his head you before he moves.

He starts fucking into you, deep slow thrust into your heat, then pulling out of you at excruciatingly slow pace, then pushing in again deep until he feels he can’t go further. You are moaning into the hot air of the bathroom, he watches hypnotized as the little droplets of water slide all over your body, your pretty nipples hardened with lust standing against your chest begging for attention, he moves one of his hands up your chest and pulls slightly at the pebbled skin, you moan loudly and he feels you cunt clenching all over him. He starts moving faster, harder you hear the wet sound of skin against skin, feel him groaning against your ear, holding at the flesh of your hips so tight it is bound to leave a mark. He feels you softly tightening on him again and again, your breath becomes more labored but he wants to see your pretty face when you come, he is addicted to it, can’t get the same satisfaction if he misses it, so on a swift move he pulls out fully leaving you empty and confused before spinning you around, grabbing at your arms and placing them behind his neck.

“Hold tight.” The only words he says before he grabs at the back of your thighs to lift you up, he presses you against the tile wall and with one hand pushes his cock inside you again. You gasp against his mouth.

With the new angle you feel him impossibly deeper in your core, you can barely breath, eyes wildly open with surprise. He starts bouncing you on his length his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass, moving you like you are impossibly light on his embrace.

“Ah too deep Joost!” You whine against his mouth as he kisses at the corner of your lips.

He smiles proudly at that. “Sorry schat, I only have one dick size” He says delighted.

“Idio-” Your insult melts into a high pitched moan when his dick hits right at your g-spot.“There, right there Joost more~” You mewl against his mouth.

The “be gentle” promise seems so lost when you can feel him so deep in you it should scare you. You are both worked up and eager to reach your peak again, he is kissing at your mouth more like shoving his tongue inside it, you can barely move your lips back, everything feels electric every nerve standing waiting for the drop. You hold with one hand at his neck and reach the other between your legs to rub fast circles on your poor clit. He is watching intently at the place where you connect, seeing himself disappear inside your heat and your hand wildly rubbing on yourself, he hears you whimper and whine his name, it is all so overstimulating and yet he feels he cannot get enough.

“Yes baby make yourself cum all over me.” He says in a deep groan, his voice sounds so labored and dripping with lust it send you over the edge, you clench around his length, walls pulsing all over him.

You throw your head back in ecstasy, an orgasm that feel endless while he keeps fucking into you, continuing to chase his high with a few uncoordinated thrusts that have you whining from over stimulation. He cums deep inside you again, this time it knocks the wind out of your lungs his efforts to clean you up all but wasted now. You feel your heart and his beating wildly and the sound of strained breaths creating an unlikely symphony with the sound of the shower.

After a long languid minute he still has you pressed against the wall held tightly on his arms, he is usually so clumsy when he has to get up early, all but tumbles into the shower. You swear one of this days he is gonna fall and hit his head on the sink, but with you on his arms he is so careful balancing you properly so you won’t slip from him. He finally raises his head from your chest but before places open mouthed kisses right where your heart should be, you meet him with a wet kiss on the lips, he slowly puts you down, his eyes seem so heavy like he will fall asleep any minute now.

“Lets finish off quickly.” You tell him he nods.

You finish massaging body wash onto him, you feel how tense the muscles on his back are, more than you have ever felt, you feel a little bad for your earlier outburst, he had been working so hard what he did wasn’t right but you can tell he is truly sorry. You wash him off quickly and do the same for yourself.

You both come out of the shower, wrap in soft towels before he reaches for the hair dryer and turns it on.

“Turn around.” He says his voice sounds so heavy you really fear he might just fall asleep right here and then you will have to somehow drag him to bed.

But he doesn’t fall asleep, instead he starts gently blow drying your hair you feel so peaceful, finally, you let him work his fingers on your scalp, you look into the mirror ahead and see he is already looking at you, it makes you blush like when you wake up late and he is already up just staring at your face, no matter if you were drooling through the night he thinks you are so beautiful.

He places a soft kiss at the top of your crown before he speaks again “So…. About the lingerie?”

You knew this one was coming, you roll your eyes at him in the mirror “You don’t deserve to see it.” You say quickly avoiding his eyes where he will see you are not serious at all.

He pouts, it is so cute, you will let him see of course, but not now, he has to earn it again or he won’t learn, you need to stop treating him like a dog too, probably, maybe…

“Can I ask again another time?” He turns off the blow dryer and rests it in the counter.

You walk out the bathroom and he follows right behind. “Perhaps…if you are well behaved.” You look behind your shoulder and wink at him he smiles brightly back at you, if the torture you will put him through to let him see you on the lingerie set is even half as delicious as what he just went through then he is already looking forward to it.

You throw the towel on a chair he does the same then you climb on bed lifting the comforter so he will just slip in. He does and then pulls you against his chest resting your head right below his chin. You will fall asleep in his arms, wake up in the late afternoon maybe order take out and talk it out, and you will talk anything out as many times as it takes because he is worth it, because both of you are, no matter how hard things get being together is worth it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: this ended up being really long oops anyways thank u for reading to the end if u did let me know if you liked it <3 ps. this was based on a suggestion ty for that :>

#joost klein #joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost #joost smut #joost fanfic #joost klein fanfiction

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jezabelle9299 · 5 months ago

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Make-up Birthday S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture: Spencer didn't just miss your birthday he forgot it. (Happy Ending)

C-Ws: Missed occasions, pushing down feelings for the benefit of another person, Spencer chose Gideon over you

A/N- Baby's first angst, go easy on me. And I've been in a sour mood so I have 2 other angst fics (also birthday themed), that will probably be posted sometime this week. Our regularly scheduled sap will return next week.

You weren’t a very big birthday person. Of course when you were young you had birthday parties with all of your little friends, but as time went on, things got busy. It was pushed to the side for years, until you preferred to just ignore it. Until a few weeks ago, when Spencer asked what you’d like to do to celebrate. You told him nothing was necessary, but he insisted that the two of you at least spend the day together. You let yourself get excited, you made good plans, just takeout and movie night, but that was enough. If it were anyone else you’d remind him, several times, but you knew he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t forget anything.

This morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you knew Spencer had gone to work. He had a few meetings he mentioned having to go to about their latest cases, but you weren't expecting him until this evening. The day passed you by when you got set up, but time slowed down when there was nothing to do but wait. Each second passed a little slower than the last, until you got worried. You haven't heard from Spencer all day.

You: Hey Spence, everything ok?

Spence: I’m ok, just got caught up at work. I’ll come to your place as soon as I can.

You: Ok, see you then

You were glad he was ok, and you knew he’d rather be with you, than at work. Something important must’ve come up, he wouldn’t miss this over nothing. But time passed with no more texts, until you resigned yourself to him just not coming. You changed from your date outfit into some comfy pajamas, and laid down in bed. You weren’t upset with Spencer, this job was important to him, and you knew he felt like he had something to prove just being there. You could celebrate another day.

It wasn't until well after nine when Gideon asked Spencer what he was still doing here, he’d mentioned weeks ago that he’d need to leave early. That’s when Spencer realized what he was missing. It wasn’t just movie night, by now he’d missed almost your entire birthday, after he’d pressed you to celebrate it at all. He rushed out as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to your place it was too late. He knocked on the door and as soon as you answered, all the apologies came pouring out. He couldn’t make himself stop until you put your hands on either side of his face making him look you in the eyes.

“It’s ok Spence, I know how important your job is, and we can celebrate another day.”

He leaned down to hug you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry honey, it totally slipped my mind. But I promise to make it up to you.” You pulled away from him at that.

“Wait, what do you mean?” He just looked at you, like he was replaying what he said to figure out what he did wrong.

“You–you forgot?”

“I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t. I had this picture in my mind, like when you leave for cases, when you tell me how you wish you could be here.”

“I do wish I was here, baby. You mean the world to me.” You couldn’t keep doing this, his reassurance was breaking you down bit by bit. Sure now he wished he was there, but he didn’t even realize you were missing him.

“I’m gonna go for a drive I think, we don’t have to celebrate another day, it’s fine.”

“No please stay– please let me make this up to you.” His phone rang. A shrill tone cutting through, nearly making you wince.

“It’s Gideon, I have to take this. But please stay with me, I want to talk about this. It’ll only take a minute.”

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Spence, just remember to lock up when you leave ok?” You picked up your shoes and keys before you walked out, still in your pajamas. You gave him not even half of a smile, and it was breaking his heart. But he couldn’t ignore the call.

Gideon was like a father to him, and even though he winced when the door shut behind you, quietly, as if you weren’t even upset, he still answered. There wasn’t even a case, Gideon just had a question about some evidence. Nothing would’ve happened if he didn’t answer, no one was dying, and the only one hurt was you. He couldn’t have just ignored the call, and now you were gone.

Spencer didn’t forget anything, but somehow he forgot this.

You weren't sure where you’d go. You decided to allow yourself one evening to be upset. To acknowledge that this whole situation sucks and honestly today your usually wonderful boyfriend kind of sucks too. You’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow, but tonight you're going to drive an hour and a half down the highway, just to turn back around so you could avoid the drunk drivers on the road when the bars close. Spencer should be gone by then, you’re sure Gideon was calling to steal your boyfriend away on a case again and you’d call him in the morning to make sure he got there ok and tell him to be safe like you always did.

What Spencer did was important, and you couldn’t be mad at him for missing something as silly as a birthday for a work problem. But he wasn’t out saving lives like you thought. It may be selfish or overly-presumptuous about your standing in his life, but when you missed him it made you feel better to think he was missing you just as much. How he was at work thinking about how he loved you. And today was the day that illusion shattered.

You could only sob at the thought.

By the time you got home, it was almost 1am. The redness in your eyes finally started to subside, you got too dehydrated to continue actually crying almost an hour ago, so that’s when you decided that the time for being upset over this was done. Even the puffiness in your face was going down. But when you unlocked the door, Spencer was waiting for you.

“You’re home.”

“You’re here. I thought you had a case.”

“No, Gideon just had a question about some evidence, I wanted to be here when you got back.”

“That’s sweet of you Spencer, but I just went for a quick drive. I’m kind of tired, so I think I’m just going to head to bed now, ok? But I’ll see you in the morning.” You gave him a resigned kiss on the forehead and his heart broke. He did this. And you called him Spencer, not ‘Spence’, not ‘honey’, not ‘babe’. Spencer. It never sounded so awful.

He did all he could do, he slept on the couch and let you rest. You would be talking about this in the morning. You couldn’t shut him out forever, he loved you too much.

The beeping of the coffee machine woke him up, his legs half hanging off your couch. He immediately got up. If the coffee machine was going off, you were awake, and you could talk about last night.

“Honey?”

“Hi, I didn’t realize you’d stayed here last night, were you too tired to drive?”

“No, but I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“You could've slept in my bed with me.” You were glad he didn’t. But you wanted to maintain your facade, you wanted to forgive him, and forget about everything.

“You’re upset with me, I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re the love of my life and I hurt you. You don’t have to pretend to be ok with it.”

“It was one day, Spencer. It’s fine, you don’t have to sleep on the couch as penance.” You were putting on your coolest presence, but everything you said still came out as more of a mumble than it would’ve.

“I need you to listen to me, you are the most important person in my life. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I forgot about you.” That broke your barely held together exterior of confidence.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need you to know that I love you, I can’t just let this go.”

“Ok fine. You made me celebrate my birthday and when you forgot anyway, it hurt my feelings. But I don’t want a makeup birthday, and I wish I could just forget about it, and I don’t understand why you want me to be mad at you.”

“I don’t want you to be mad, but when you are mad, I need you to tell me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I don’t want you to know when I’m upset. I want to be the cool girlfriend that doesn’t get upset when her boyfriend does something by accident. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and when you make one mistake about something I wouldn’t have even cared about a month ago, I can’t get over it. But I really want to get over it, so could we please just forget about it?” By this point tears were flowing down your face, but you were still wiping your face every few seconds to stop them in their tracks.

“No we can’t just forget, I think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you ignore your feelings whenever you think they’d be inconvenient. I want to spend the day with you if you’d be ok with it, but if you want some time alone that’s ok too.”

“I want to spend the day with you. But could we leave out the birthday theme?”

“Sure honey, whatever you want, I’m all yours.”

“You know I love you Spence, right?”

“I know, I love you too.” It was an upsetting morning, but he was still overjoyed that you called him ‘Spence’ again. He’d earned his pet name back.

“Do you really think I’m cool?” It was barely spoken into his chest, moreso whined, muffled by the fabric of his sweater vest. At this moment, you were so uncool. Yet he still kissed your forehead as he laughed.

“The coolest.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst

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hermetiqa · 6 months ago

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What study habits will help you this school year?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK | MASTERLIST

PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

The study habits that will help you this year are the ones that will keep you engaged in your lessons and courses/subjects. Something that keeps your mind active and keeps you interested in learning. Be curious about what you're learning. Take studying as something positive and don't take it as a responsibility. Have the mindset that you're privileged enough to study and learn these stuff. Be in a state of wanting to learn, not needing to learn. Also, leave your "failures" behind, such as low grades or not being able to get a perfect score on your exam. Instead, focus on what you lacked that caused that result.

Study techniques:

Make flash cards

Use white boards (the bigger, the better)

Act like a teacher, pretend that you're teaching

Similar to the previous one, you can also pretend that you're reporting the lesson in class

Make mind maps with only your knowledge and check what you missed after

Pile 2

I'm getting a lot of energy here from you, Pile 2. First of all, STOP CRAMMING. You might have survived the last school year by cramming but it won't help you anymore, especially this time. You need to study in advance especially when you know you have exams coming up. Stop studying the night before the day of the exam. Also, leave the past behind. Let go of your "friends" who distract you from studying and just want to go out to parties. Change your routine. Your previous routine could be a success for you but it drains you. Find some balance between studying and leisure.

Study techniques:

Study with your friends together

Put notes on your walls so you can look at them anytime and you'll learn them naturally

If you exercise and you happen to have a treadmill, put notes on the wall in front of you so you can read as you exercise (walking or jogging)

Similarly, you can record yourself reading your notes and listen to your record while jogging outside or exercising

Read your notes outloud

Pile 3

So here's the studious pile. I'm seeing that you tend to study hard, not study smart. And that's your mistake. You should study smart, not study hard. Stop memorizing and start understanding your lessons more. Stop rewriting your notes over and over until you reach your desired perfection of your notes, the "aesthetic" that you want. Instead, do your best to write well when you're taking notes in class. That way, you won't have to rewrite them at home. When reading your notes, it's best for you to use different colors of highlighters. Also when someone offers you some help in a lesson that you struggle with, accept it, even if you only struggle a little. Lastly, enjoy learning! Don't stress yourself too much about it and overthink you'll fail.

Study techniques:

Don't stay up all night to study and wake up early in the morning to review, especially to recall what you've already studied

Never ever cram and always finish the easiest tasks first

Drink coffee when studying (only if you don't have health issues or you weren't advised that you should avoid coffee)

Keep on rereading your notes and rewrite what you remember, then keep track of what you tend to forget

Make tests for yourself or look for tests online

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years ago

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Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding.

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance.

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice.

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out. It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.”

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him.

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again.

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

#steddie #steddie fic #hi it's very late and this is very short #but I had to get it out before sleeps so here you go #so apologies if it's riddled with mistakes #I just missed writing lovebites #and this is the hc that keeps me sane knowing how many concussions Steve has had #like this is how he keeps recovering so quickly from all of them idkidk #okay please enjoy and have nice day xx

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crushh-existz · 29 days ago

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Streamer Ellie HCs

Warnings: lower case intended..., NOT proofread at all..., its actually so shit so shh

-loser!ellie who made it through freshman and sophmore year of being a complete loner other than Jesse and Dina keeping her company but even then, she had absolutely no classes with them after freshman year.

-loser!ellie mid sophmore year she got bored and streamed her playing filled fortnite squads (it took her 4 hours trying to set it up with the most grainy ass camera she could find from joel that he used when he worked in customer service. she also got 10 views MAX!!)

-loser!ellie she looked back at the footage after school one day and her ass went onto capcut and put the most stupidest clips she could find of herself and posted it on one of her many alt accounts on tiktok.

after rewatching that bitch at least 20 times and giggling her ass off, she went to bed swaddled in her dino sheets

she didn't even realize she had fallen asleep at around 2 am and woke up super late, forgetting her phone at home

-loser!ellie had to sit through all her classes bored as FUCKK without her brawl stars to get through her boring classes (dont ask it was the stupidest mobile game i could think of and idk anything abt it) and the only game that wasn't locked away by GoGuardian was slope.io (her highscore is 23)

-loser!ellie went about her day as jolly as one who is drowning in assignments could be. she hung out with jesse and dina at lunch and surviving her last two periods before walking home humming her favorite songs pretending she has her phone and wired headphones (that most definately need to be retired after 6 years of torture, half of which were from joel using them)

once she actually got home, kicking off her butchered converse onto her bedroom floor as she flopped onto her bed

-loser!ellie finally got to open her phone to browse through her notifications and streaks dina for some reason made her keep, she noticed a fat chunk of them being from tiktok

at first she thought it was just jesse getting home early and sending her posts but it was actually from her stupid capcut video (she didnt even remove the watermark at the end)

her video for some reason blew up.. she literally flew up to sit on her bed scrolling through all the comments.

"wait why r u actually funny"

"mind you this is my first impression of u"

"why is ur camera quality worse than my dead grandmas health.."

"in my mind we're actually bestfriends come out im in ur closet."

of course among that, theres also random hate comments like

"this pmo" and petty shit like that.

she giggled by replying to them with the most stupidest things

@/player222schesticals im js a natural arent i

@/user283678383257819 i hope it lasts

@/therealauthormorgan911 erm tell her dust i said hi

@/divaa283628 how'd u know i was a scissor sister dafauq

-streamer!ellie immediatly after she called dina "DUDE IM FLIPPING FAMOUS"

dina thought she was high off her ass and told her yeah right before hanging up on her ass.

ellie then proceeded to send a link to her alt and dina was actually blown away

"woah els.. you should pay me to be your manager."

-streamer!ellie laughed in her face (she asked dina to manage her shit a week later)

-loser!ellie's following grew and she branched her gaming to other things, mostly shorter story games that she finds off steam for 1 cent. every so often the game is actually really good with life changing plot (ellie's bawling by the end of it)

obviously she still plays stupid shooter games like fortnite and OW but she's too scared to touch COD (too many sweats she says)

-streamer!ellie absolutely LOVES to troll on GTA with Jesse it's literally her favorite thing to do EVERRR!!! the public js eats it up like candy, putting her in comps whenever she would accidently blow herself up or something (again dont know anything about this game at ALLL!!!)

-loser!ellie absolutely loves scowering tiktok for stupid little edits of herself and saving them all

she's quite cocky behind the screen and loves interacting w/ her community online but gets so awkward when she gets recognized in public or at school for the few audio clips of her going viral (it's okay cuz dina and jesse help her through it!!)

A/N: okay chat these were just heehees and haahaas bro. i randomly decided to do it and I thought it was funny and lowk sat there and actually wrote w/o stopping.. tbh there was more to this but like i cringed and deleted all that but i liked it up until this point. there were probably part 2 if i figure out what to write and probably x reader version too FHEIWF anyway its fr shit but this was js for funsies ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

#fics #tlou #ellie Williams #loser ellie #streamer ellie #fortnite #crushie tries writing #i love ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader

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withleeknow · 10 months ago

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seasons of you.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff or at least i hope so lmao, not v edited and literally no one is surprised lol i sound like a broken record atp just adding that into every post word count: 0.7k note: inspired by a highly fucked up thing that @matchannie said to me yesterday lmao it has not left my brain since you said it you absolute monster

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

minho falls in love with you four times a year.

minho falls in love with you in the spring, over blooming cherry blossoms and vibrant daffodils that greet you on your weekly sunset walk. over the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his own without soft fluffy gloves getting in the way, now that it's finally warm enough to retire that extra layer of protection for the season. over the sun coming out of hibernation and filling your days with golden light, falling upon your face and casting you in a magical hue. over the remnants of winter that still leave behind a palpable chill in the air early in the morning or late in the night, that has you reaching out for the comfort of his warmth. over your delighted smile when he brings home a bouquet of tulips after a long day at work. over your glassy eyes, reddened nose and flushed cheeks as he takes care of you when the seasonal allergies kick in.

minho falls in love with you in the summer, over picnics in the park where you both lay on blue gingham picnic blankets, your head on his chest, as you watch the clouds overhead drift peacefully. over watermelon gelatos passed between teasing lips, the confectionary melting too quickly for your liking under the blazing sunlight. over spontaneous drives to the beach even though neither of you can swim, but you go just for fun, just to build sand sculptures in the shape of your cat babies and stand on the edge of the water to splash at each other. over long naps on the couch on days where you're too lazy to venture into the outside heat, preferring to stay cuddled up together under the air conditioner with niki playing in the background.

minho falls in love with you in fall, over shared slices of pumpkin pie as you watch the leaves turn yellow and red right outside your window. over the adorable way you hide your face behind your hands on nights where he puts on a horror movie because he insists on honoring the halloween spirit. over your off-key rendition of taylor swift's all too well (the 10-minute version) for most of the season because you adamantly claim that it's autumn's official anthem. over weekends spent attached at the hip, baking sugar cookies for hours on end. over your crestfallen pout as you take note of how the days keep getting shorter and shorter, already missing warm sunny weeks with all your heart.

minho falls in love with you in winter, over matching scarves and beanies, even though he often has to carry them for you because you have a bad habit of forgetting them before you go out. over the first snow of the season because they say that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you love, then you will stay together for a long, long time. over sweet cuddles in bed as a bad christmas movie plays on tv, and you fall asleep on his shoulder about half an hour into the movie despite being the one to select the movie in the first place. over your return from a shopping spree with your girlfriends with nothing for yourself but everything for soondoongdori, from christmas themed clothes to treats and toys.

but then again, maybe it's not entirely accurate to say that minho falls in love you merely four times a year. if he wants to be precise, then he would say that he falls for you anew every morning he wakes up and sees you asleep in his arms like a delicate miracle granted by a star he once used to wish upon. if he wants to get technical, then he falls in love with you with every smile that you send his way, which is a terribly sappy thing for him to admit but it doesn't make the statement any less true.

minho loves you every day of every week, of every month, of every year. he's loved you before he even met you, when you were just a romanticized idea in his head and hadn't yet walked into his life like the angel he was always meant to find. he loves you every minute of every hour; there isn't a second where you're not on his mind, not a single beat of his heart that doesn't spell out your name. he loves you throughout the seasons and a million times in between.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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sen-ya · 10 months ago

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Sen's Important Info Post

Post last updated 10/29/24

Hey I'm Sen and I draw One Piece too much! I am terrible at keeping things easy to find, turns out when ur job is project management you don’t want to also do it in ur down time. My current theme is following the dopamine, keeping it as fun as it can be for me to draw. Below the cut is information on the different AUs & serializations I've got going on right now :^)

Important Links

[How to use Airtable]

[Sen's Digital Comic Book] - a database of every comic I've made that is woefully not updated often I am sorry. I gotta work on a better system for easy viewing.

[Life After Digital Comic Book] - a database of every page of Life After

[See Comics Early on Ko-Fi!]

[Life After Info Post] - Life After is currently on hiatus!

Posting Schedule

Thursday - Serialized Comics (current: Family AU//Forgetful)

Universe: Main Timeline

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-important and not important ways. These comics are largely LuLaw but include sprinkles of Heart Pirates (in general and as family), ZoSan, and general shenanigans.

Serializations:

Getting Together - Will they/won't they? They will, but they're gonna be stupid about it. Anything tagged into this series you can assume they haven't established that they're romantically interested in each other.

Established LuLaw - Two idiots in love. Anything tagged with this series you can assume they're together. They may not refer to each other as "boyfriend" or "partner" but whatever it is that's going on is clear to the two of them and that's what matters.

Law Loses - Most comics in this series deal with the aftermath of Winner Island. Law feels like a curse.

Goofs Only - These comics don't require serialization. They're just some good fun. If they include LawLu/LuLaw, they'll also be tagged as either "Getting Together" or "Established" so you have context for their reactions.

The Heart Bros - Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi found each other as kids. Comics in this series act as glimpses into their time growing up and other brotherly interactions. This is noncompliant with the Law novel. Once they form the Heart Pirates, they consider each other brothers.

ZoSan - I don't draw these two a lot anymore, so this series is just a general ZoSan category!

Heart Pirate Shenanigans - I went all in on Heart Pirates Week 2024 and wrote a bunch of comics about the various crew members! Leaving this as an open series for when I inevitably fall down another Heart Pirate rabbit hole.

Universe: Older/Family AU

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-importanComics in this universe take place anywhere from 7 - 30 years post canon. Mostly LuLaw with sprinkles of other shenanigans. You can assume events from the main timeline are canon in this AU.

Serializations:

Accidents Happen - Law gets a cold and stops running a few effects that he'd taken for granted.

Getting Married - Did you know if two pirate captains want to get married, they can just say they're married?

Extras - This series is for posts that offer context/additional information about what's going on in the AU

Family Fluff - These are a series of comics where the focus is on Law and/or Luffy as a parent.

Forgetful - Law gets hit by a devil fruit that makes him forget everything that's happened since just before Marineford.

Get back to it - After spending some time on Zou in Rocy's first 18 months, it's time for Luffy & Law to get back to pirating.

Universe: The Worst Timeline

Comics in this universe branch off of the main timeline around Whole Cake/early Wano. These comics may refer to earlier 'main timeline' events, but what happens in them is so terrible I've refused to make them part of my own personal canon. Sometimes it's just too temping to make them suffer :^)

Serializations:

Rightfully Worried - This series is an AU in which Luffy gets the absolute shit kicked out of him in Whole Cake and when he arrives on Wano Law has to save his life. It's not the first time he's performed surgery on him, but it is the first time he's had to since he's cared so much about his patient.

The Worst Wake-Up Call - During an intense battle, Law makes a decision. The ones who love him deal with the aftermath.

#my art #one piece #lawlu #heart pirates #zosan #comics master post #lbr this is for me because i'm so irritated at myself for posting out of order lmao #look at how far we've escalated

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mqrrstarr · 2 months ago

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CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!

Gladiator Characters x GN! Reader

Feat: Geta, Caracalla, Commodus, Lucius, Maximus, Acacius, Lucilla, Macrinus!!

Christmas Day and Eve headcanons!

Warnings: poorly edited, just a girl who loves these characters and the holidays, a bit short

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! don’t feel the same vibe as I did when a child, so I’m coping with writing. This will be a seven part series regarding Gladiator characters and Christmas and I’ll try to post them all BY THE END OF THE WEEK (?) but uhh don’t hold that against me. Enjoy!!

EDIT: the series has been canceled cause I can’t write. Wait until December 2025!! 💗

Summary: headcanons for all the gladiator characters and how they’d spend Christmas Eve and Day with their SO.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Geta would spend Christmas Eve with dinner specially made for his SO, (he def has better cooking skills than Caracalla) and he’d lovingly give them a bonus Eve gift. It’s a beautiful moment, where the strong and feared leader of Rome and succumb to the one he loves.

“Enjoy it darling. The beauty of the holidays does not compare to yours.”

He’d watch you enjoy his meal, and drink the wine he picked out especially for the occasion. As much as music was needed, Geta refused to let anyone interrupt your moment together.

On Christmas Day, it would depend on what happened during the night. Was it a peaceful night, was it active, or was it bland? Either way, Geta would get up and prepare presents for you, a surprise for no one other than the love of his life. He’d do it quietly, and super early in the morning. He’d rarely sleeps in peace anyways, so why use the energy elsewhere?

It would also be a morning where you wake up gently, and be surprised by the lavish decorations Geta has placed. Gold and white silk decorating his room, and most of all, your Emperor was still yours.

- - - - - - -

Caracalla is in love with the holidays. He gets giddy, childlike, and excited every time. This is a period in the year where he can remember something good about his youth. He likes to keep himself happy, and now that you’re his? You’re included in all the traditions.

During your Christmas dinner, he’d bring out a bunch of dinner games, have slaves perform for the both of you (AMND reference btw) and it would be a wholesome night.

Before Christmas Day, the eldest emperor cried during the night. He laid in your arms, and caressed you in return.

“Sweets. I cannot express how much care…”

He looks at you like a puppy worshipping its owner.

“I truly care about you. And although these times are happy and remind me of things, I hope to make new memories with you.”

The night would pass, and the morning would come. You’d wake up in Caracalla’s embrace, and to be frank, none of you got the others gifts out. So you just opened everything together, and you had never seen the man so happy.

- - - - - - -

Commodus and Christmas. What an interesting mix. Take a emotionally damaged man with immense childhood trauma and put him in a holiday where he did nothing but suffer? Where his own father ignored him and gave him nothing but one gift?

Christmas Eve with him was truly nothing but a dinner. Now that he had you, he tried to forget and make new memories. But the shame and pain was still visible in his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore and sat next to him, caressing him and saying words of affection.

“My present from Venus, ignore my past and ignore my anger. My father ruined my mind, and all you can do it heal it. This Christmas will be my first with you, and if my last? Than I would rather be dead.”

You looked at him with such sincerity in your eyes, he became submissive to your touch and you both proceeded to sit next to the fire in his room.

Christmas morning arrived promptly, and knowing this was a very sensitive time for Commodus, you got him a gift he’d never forget. This necklace, engraved with your initials and his; with both of your favorite jewels. And, a new laurel crown for the one and only Emperor himself.

Commodus nearly fell down into tears, so grateful he was finally seen.

- - - - - - -

Lucius loved you with his entire heart. After being forcefully removed from his mother as a kid, and already losing his first wife, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person special to him.

To Lucius, Christmas is the mark of the end of the year, another time to celebrate the fact you’re both alive, and that you’re both still warriors. (writing from a Gladiator! perspective rather than Prince!)

“My love, I am eternally grateful to the Gods that we can be together.”

He kisses your forehead, gently as to not hurt you. You spend your Christmas Eve with a simple meal, and the next day not as lavish either.

Lucius adored you already: but he’d try to get a gift anyways, even though he already admires and thinks you’re just amazing! (Poppy and Branch dynamic)

He’d come up with something cute and homemade, providing the point that it doesn’t have to be expensive to matter. (save me Lucius save me)

- - - - - - -

Maximus wasn’t the same after the loss of his previous wife and child, and this time was bittersweet for him. His SO kept him sane, and he tried not to let his sadness show through.

You decorated the tree in your home, one Maximus was able to buy after years of being a Gladiator. He occasionally goes to the fights, but not anymore. Now he’s a Senator. (NOT CANON ITS JUST SO HES NOT DEAD AND IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN THE OTHER SEVEN PARTS)

He came up behind you and kissed your neck, watching you place the last of the ornaments.

“Excellent work my dear. Excellent. I’m going to bed now, meet you there?”

And he went away in a form far too sad for the usual Maximus. You knew him well, and simply decided to go to sleep as well. The following morning, you woke up first and decided to get your gift for Maximus.

It was a wooden carving of him, his late wife, his late child, and you all together.

Maximus woke up a few minutes later, and got your gift from the bedroom! (You were in the living room.) He got you a bracelet from his dead wife, something that really meant a lot to him.

“My dear? I’d like to give you this. It belonged to my former wife, and she liked it dearly. Made form Spanish jewels and metal, of course. I love you, but I beg for you to understand that she and my son still live in me. You understand, right?”

You nodded, happy and overwhelmed. You gave Maximus his gift, and tears were shed from the both of you. Your gift meant a lot, as you accepted his love and the love for those gone.

- - - - - - -

Acacius loved the holidays. It was a time where he could relax, sink into his own bed, be clean, and most important, be with you.

You finished preparing the meal, a mix of both his and your favorite foods with some Roman delicacies thrown in there.

“Looks great my sweet. Not as good as you though! But you know I love you.”

He caressed your hips before helping set the table. The meal was prepped and Acacius sat you down first. (WHAT A GENTLEMAN)

He sat across from you at the table, and you talked about what was going on, what you wanted to happen in Rome, etc.

Eventually, stuff happened and you both woke up in the each others arms in the morning. Acacius always laid very still in the night, out of pure instinct. However, Christmas morning he couldn’t stop moving around, and woke the both of you up together.

He eagerly said, “Hurry up and change, your gift is outside.” He smiled and left promptly.

Outside, there was a gleaming white stallion.

“For you. A horse just as grand as your soul.”

You smiled. Who wouldn’t want a horse as a gift? But inside you shattered. The only gift you got for Acacius was a painting of himself. You showed it to him, and he reassured you it was enough. Let’s just say he’d also show you it was okay.

- - - - - - -

Lucilla loved the holidays. She decorated excessively, both as a young woman and as she is now. (hc, it’s because Lucius loved the looks and lights of Christmas and the guilt of having him leave her has followed her forever)

“One more wreath I promise… it’s just an extra special one… done!”

She looked at you and smiled. It radiated calm and positivity, an effect only Lucilla had. You kissed her and assured the place looked great.

“Dinner should be set by the slaves by now. It should be good. I trust it is. They sent by fresh fruits and veggies and proper meat as well. I’d like to give you your gift now, would that be alright? I just truly cannot wait.”

You nodded yes, but you’d have to get the gift from the room. You agreed to meet again in five minutes to exchange gifts.

Soon, the two of you are reunited, and she presents a lovely sculpture of you, portrayed in such an ethereal form; as if the gods had carved it themselves. You gave her a crown made from pure gold and a ring, as you knew she loved collecting rings. The ring you gave her had your initials carved, signifying the both of you tied together.

- - - - - - -

Macrinus had a holiday anytime one of his prized gladiators won. Yet, Christmas, was an actual holiday he could look forward to.

“Uh, Dove, do you know if the servants have finished the meal? I’ve got a bunch of gladiators waiting to fight in your honor.”

(he calls you Dove bc you’re his symbol of peace!)

He planted a kiss on your forehead before leading you to the garden outside, where a meal was served and the servants were waiting patiently, deserts, fruits, wine in their hands.

Five gladiators waited in chains to be released to have a “playful” hand to hand fight, something Macrinus found plenty delight in.

“I have a gift for you. I won’t be around tomorrow, as the Emperors requested a meeting with me. So I wish to give you this. I know it’s a bit excessive, but you deserve it.”

He gave you a pearl necklace with ruby earrings to go with it, and a slip saying you owned a young gladiator.

You thanked Macrinus, and you enjoyed the meal as the gladiators fought and the moon shined upon the both of you.

“I live for you, and I love you Dove. Fly high always.”

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msschemmenti · 4 months ago

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fun police

eventual emily prentiss x reader / bau x reader

summary: reader is hired by hr to monitor morale and implement more self-care moments for agents. the unit she struggles most with is obviously the BAU

a/n: i often forget criminal minds is not a workplace comedy with a sprinkle of killers because i write stuff like this. at my core, i just wanna giggle. sue me ig :) [this is giving more prologue than anything— if y’all are into this idea i’ll post more of this]

emily groaned into the air of her empty office as yet another email rolled across her screen from hr. in theory, the new self-care initiative was definitely a good idea, but she knew her team. and she knew herself. with all the sicarios serial killers still lingering in their minds— a mindful monday break was not priority. they’d skirted around all the previous mandated attempts to unwind due to cases popping up and splitting the team up, but she knew they could only keep that up for so long.

she clicked into the email, the URGENT subject line keeping her from ignoring it. she skimmed the greeting and first paragraph of reprimands for the lack of participation. she got to the next paragraph and instantly paused in dread.

“starting monday morning, the behavioral analysis unit will be assigned a health and wellness agent who will join your team in the field to ensure that you and your team are balancing your work and health appropriately.”

a glorified babysitter? oh the team was going to hate this. it took a certain type of person to weather the storms they did and those types of people did not have healthy coping mechanisms. emily rolled her desk chair back enough to pull out the bottle of wine she hid in a drawer and the glass that accompanied it. if the fun police was coming to town she might as well enjoy this luxury before they arrived.

emily was the first in as always. all that first to arrive, last to leave stuff. but as she walked up the few stairs to her office, she quickly realized she may not have been first after all.

“uh hi? can i help you?” she asked as she stood in the doorway of her office. the woman sat across from her desk turned to look over her shoulder and smiled cheerily. far too cheery for the time of day.

“section chief prentiss, good morning! just the woman i’m here for.” the mystery woman smiled and moved over to extend her hand toward emily. “y/n y/ln, wellness consultant. i believe someone emailed you about my arrival?”

emily’s eyes traveled up the woman’s frame curiously. she was dressed smartly, on the business side of business casual and she looked far too young to be doing the work she was doing. remembering the welcoming part of the email she’d read last week, she plastered on her most practiced diplomatic smile and shook her hand. “nice to meet you miss y/ln. i wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. please have a seat.”

emily rounded her desk and slid into her desk chair. she watched y/n do the same and subconsciously wondered how someone could look that good this early in the morning. she’d barely had her first cup of coffee and she felt like she was barely functioning. but here this wellness expert was, dressed to the nines and in the office before her.

y/n cleared her throat and slid a folder over to emily with a sheepish smile. “i figured we could touch base a bit on the team and my plans for the time being. and i thought that’d be easier with goals and objectives breakdown.”

goals and objectives breakdown? emily looked from the folder to the y/n and back in a bit of shock. she hadn’t exactly expected there to be folders of information or goals and objectives. she thought they do some meditation and call it a day… but as she opened the folder and saw the detailed breakdowns and plans she realized she was sorely mistaken.

“oh wow, forgive me for my ignorance. but i assumed this would be a sort of once a month morale boosting bonding sort of thing and you’d just sign off on whatever we decide to do.”

y/n didn’t even flinch at emily’s words, only smiled with a chuckle. “well that would’ve been the case a few months ago but based on your teams workload and concerns from outside of this office— the director is looking for something a bit more direct and focused.”

“direct and focused?” emily repeated.

“mmhm, you can see it all outlined there but simply put im here to help every member of your team identify healthy coping mechanisms to combat the work you’re doing. that’ll look different for every member but it’ll be personal. some teams have preferred check in meetings and others like to keep journals. each member can choose how they’d like to work with me.”

emily sighed as she read through the folder and listened to y/n, it was all sounding unnecessary at she was already trying to think of a way to get the team on board. getting rossi to participate was going to kill her. “as you can imagine, i’m not sure how receptive the team will be to these forced wellness sessions…”

“i anticipated that. and i’ve found most teams are far more receptive when their fearless leader is a willing participant. you know leading by example.” y/n spoke suggestively lifting her eyebrow in challenge.

“oh you mean me? you want me to participate in your little exercises so the others will be more willing?” emily asked in disbelief.

“well yes, as much as i believe that you’ve got your own mental health exercises in place— you could humor me with a few sessions.” y/n grinned.

emily eyed her suspiciously, “and if we refuse?”

“well i hope it doesn’t come to that, but after i’ve made my base analysis of the team i’ll have the digression to determine who is and is not fit for field work. and i have a feeling that wouldn’t go over to well.”

“yeah that’s a sure fire way to make some enemies around here.” emily grimaced with a huff.

“thought so.” y/n shrugged but pulled out a black planner and pen and looked at emily expectantly. “so chief, when do you wanna start? promise i’ll make it worth your while.”

#criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #bau team #bau x reader #msschemmenti #fun police

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months ago

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Someone New 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Idk why but I'm so over dealing with people!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You swipe away another phone call. You have at least a dozen missed. Let them buzz in your pocket for another few hours. You try not to think about it as you turn your attention back to the plot before you, the tight foot by foot square, and continue to gently sift through the dirt. You stop only to make notes on the map and examine the odd bit of animal bones you find.

Bzzzzzz. The constant vibration in your pants makes you anxious. You should put it to silent but keep forgetting. Whatever. You’re busy. Whoever it is will have to wait. You know who it is. He’s been calling for days. You’ve been ignoring him just as long.

You should pick up. You should be there for him. You should be happy for him but your heart feels rotten. Years of pining and you can’t pretend any longer. Not after the party. Not after seeing him on his knee for another woman. That’s it. That’s the seal on the envelope. The dream is crumpled up and in the bin.

He didn’t even notice that you left early. You don’t think anyone did. You spent all those weeks planning and fretting and laying awake at night and for what? To pretend that it could ever be all for you?

You sigh and sit back on your heel, one leg bent under you as you rest your arm on your other knee. You blow an insect away from your face and push your hat back. The sun beats down, offering great light for the excavation but less than ideal temperature.

“Eh, there you are,” Arturo waltzes up in his round tinted spectacles, “find anything good?”

“Nah,” you shake your head and shrug.

“You know where you’d find something amazing? Norway,” he smirks, hands on his hips. “So... you thought about it?”

“Mm, yeah, been thinking,” you utter dully as you look up at him from under the brim of your hat. “When do you need a decision?”

“The sooner the better. The grant proposal is all but approved, we just need a name on that blank line,” he says, “this could be really good for you. No, I know it will be good.”

“Right,” you nod and stand up, dusting off your tan pants, “I know you said you weren’t sure but any idea how long? I’d have to worry about my apartment and telling my family...”

“A year. That’s about right,” he proclaims, “could be longer but I’d plan for that.”

“A year?” You wisp as your chest deflates. You put your hand on your pocket as your phone buzzes again. “Wow.”

“You really want to spend another year in the city sweating for crow bones?” He asks. “Not trying to push you but these opportunities don’t come along often.”

“Norway,” you suck your teeth and angle your chin as you think, “viking stuff?”

“Possibly, could be an early Christian settlement too. How about I send you the proposal and you give it a look?”

“Sure, I... I guess I should.”

“It’ll all be taken care of; accommodation, travel, stipend,” he lists off with his fingers. “I know it’s not Ireland like you wanted.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you assure him, “I’ll keep thinking.”

He winks and grins triumphantly, “tomorrow. I need to know tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” You echo back in a hollow murmur.

He’s already walking away. Your phone starts to shake again and you growl. You shove your hand in your pocket and rip it out. Your gloves smear dirt on the screen as you press the red button. You pause before you can drag your thumb over. You inhale and push your finger the other direction.

“Bucky,” you answer in confusion. He wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency.

“Ah, there you are kid,” Steve’s voice comes in place of the expected timbre. You hiss. “You avoiding me or something?”

“Uh, no,” you reply thinly, “I’m working,” you rub the back of your neck with your other hand, “it’s been busy and I’m sure you’ve been running all around with... everything.”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. Wedding. Ugh. He’s getting married... to her.

“Well, Peggy’s doing most of the planning, really. I don’t know,” he chuckles crisply, “you know, more a lady’s thing. She’s already knee-deep in the engagement party. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you grumble as you bring your hand forward to rub your thumb with your index, scratching away more of the dust.

“I didn’t get to say thank you. Again. That party was amazing. It was perfect, kid.”

“Steve, we’re the same age,” you gripe at his pet name.

“Yeah, but you hate it so much,” he teases.

You can’t smile. Even as your cheeks pinch, you can only grimace. You drop your arm and close your eyes as you push your head back.

“She loved it. I did too. We’re so happy and you made that happen--”

“Steve, why are you calling? I’m buried right now,” you huff.

“You are? I thought you’re supposed to dig stuff up--”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, you missed Opening Day so I thought maybe you’d wanna come watch the game. Sam’s doing his famous nachos and Bucky is... coming.”

You hear the very man mutter in the background. Great, you even have an audience. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had you on speaker. Why would anything between you ever be intimate?

“Tonight?” You wonder, “you sure you’re available?”

“Me, I should be asking you,” he scoffs, “come on, how long’s it been since we’ve been apart a whole week?”

“Work...”

“Can you dig in the dark?” He challenges.

“Steve,” you sniff, “I’m tired...” you feel your heart sinking. You feel bad. You never say no to Steve. It’s not easy. You tried but he’s right. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t see him at least every other day. “Fine, twist my arm.”

“Good,” he chirps victoriously. “I wasn’t looking forward to driving up there and digging you out. So, seven?”

“Seven, right,” you agree. “See ya then.”

“Don’t make me come find ya, kid.”

You hang up and cringe. You don’t even like baseball. It was just another personality trait you took on hoping to be close to Steve, hoping he might realise you’re destined to be together. Well, that’s not true. You’re just stupid. It took you too long to grow out of being that stupid college girl fawning over the blond hunk in his coed sweater.

Still stupid, still alone.

💟

You never show up empty-handed. Even when you were a poor sophomore. So it is that you delay the inevitable by stopping at your favourite local bakery. They’re closing and you get the eclairs for a discount as they’ll be on the day-old shelf in the morning.

The owner, Marigold, knows you and puts in an extra one. You leave a tip as you listen eagerly to her rambling story about her granddaughter’s first soccer practice. Usually, you would be checking the time but today, you got more than enough. Finally, she sends you off as she turns off the sign.

Fine, you’ll go.

You find a visitor’s spot behind Steve’s building and linger in the car. You eat the extra eclair to keep from crying. Sugar is good for clogging up your tear ducts. You wipe your mouth and make yourself get out of the car.

As you wait in the lobby for the buzzer to pick up, your insides squirm. You’re not ready for this. You’re not ready to face the truth you’ve been running from. The one you know you can’t deny any longer.

“Hey kid,” Steve unlocks the door without awaiting a response. It’s typical; you have your patterns. Those little rituals are all going to end.

You go through to the elevators and contemplate taking the stairs as you wait. The doors open and you step on, facing your reflection in the mirror doors. Your pants are still filthy from working in the dirt, your shirt is stained with your sweat, but at least you remembered to change your shoes. The elevator dings and you nearly let the doors close again before you can find your strength.

You walk down the hallway and knock. You can hear their voices through the door. Steve opens it from within and gives you a strange look.

“What’re you knocking for? You know you can come right in.”

“Yeah, sorry, tired, long day,” you babble out the lazy excuses. “Here.”

“Oh, nice,” he takes the box of eclairs, “you weren’t lying. You look exhausted.”

“Ah, you really know how to talk up a woman,” Sam interjects as he appears in the doorway further down the entryway, “it’s a wonder Peggy said yes.”

“Shut up,” Steve throws back as he turns to head back to the kitchen.

You take your time in pulling off your shoes and sense Sam lingering, watching as you meander. You clear your throat as you stand and head down the hall. He nudges you as you step into the doorway next to him.

“Where ya been?” He asks, “these jackasses have been driving me nuts.”

“Work,” you repeat again, “lots going on.”

“Right, yeah, now that you’re not spending all your time planning someone else’s girlfriend’s birthday.”

You give him a sharp look and he shows his palms. You shake your head. He’s right. You wasted all that time. You’ve wasted years. All for nothing.

“Fiancee, now, I guess,” he adds.

“Yeah, the happy couple,” you snip and step into the room, “so we watching the game or are we giving him another pat on the back.”

“What? You’re not excited? You’ll get to be a bridesmaid or whatever. Since I’m best man, I’ll be sure to save you a dance,” Sam chuckles.

“You? Best man?” Bucky sneers from the couch where he slouches and flicks through a motorcycle magazine, “don’t think so, bud.”

“Oh, you don’t think I’m better than you?” Sam challenges. “Let’s race for it.”

“You cheat,” Bucky growls.

“No, I have strategy,” Sam counters.

You roll your eyes. Wedding talk, already. The exact thing you can’t handle right now. Bucky sits up to glare at Sam as he closes the glossy pages. You let them argue and posture at each other.

You leave the room and let yourself onto the balcony. The fresh air is chilling. You shiver as you step up to the railing and look across the city. You take in the skyline, each window, each peak, each speck of a car on the streets below. It feels so grey. Like it’s the last time you’ll be standing here looking over it all.

Maybe it is.

💟

You sip from the bottle of beer as Sam nearly drops his nachos off his lap in excitement. He hollers at the screen as Bucky gives him a look. Steve shakes a fist at the second base run. You’re happy enough to tamp down the heat of the peppers with the wheaty ale.

Sam rights himself beside you as Steve reaches forward to set down his plate. He grabs the square of paper towel folded on the coffee table and wipes his lips. He sits back and slings his elbow over the armrest as the next batter takes his place.

“So, how do you guys feel about a destination wedding?” Steve asks.

You clamp your lips tight and scoop up more fixings with a chip. Sam swallows loudly as Bucky shrugs. No one says a word.

“Peggy asked earlier. I wanted to do it at a cathedral here. Just how I always pictured it,” Steve says.

Yeah, that sounds like him. He likes old-fashioned and elegant. Everything Peggy is and you’re not. Makes you wonder why she wouldn’t want the same venue.

“Back home?” Sam wonders.

“England? No. I suggested that and she was not into it.”

“Somewhere tropical?” Sam prompts again. He’s at least trying. You’re too sick to open your mouth.

“Sure, that’s what I was hoping,” he smiles, “especially if it’s a winter wedding. The date... yeah, that’s a big deal too. You know, I thought the ring was a pain.”

You keep your head down, hoping the pain doesn’t show. Not only did he propose to her, he kept it from you. You’re best friends and you had no idea. How much had you been through with him? He had you plan that whole party but he couldn’t tell you that?

No, no, you’re being dramatic. You’re friends. He doesn’t owe you that. It’s between him and Peggy. His future... wife. Ugh. You can’t even imagine that happening. You try and try but you just can’t stomach the image. Peggy in white, Steve in his tux, and you just standing, watching.

“I can’t come,” you blurt out abruptly.

“Huh?” Steve blinks and flinches as if he’s been slapped.

Sam angles beside you to squint at you and Bucky’s brows pop up. Another silence, this one deadly. You’re suffocating as you search for words.

“I won’t be here.”

“Well, yeah, like I said, it’s gonna be somewhere else. You don’t even know when it is,” Steve blusters as his face creases in disappointment.

“I’m going to Norway,” you blather and nearly choke at the realisation of what you said.

“Norway?” Sam repeats hollowly.

“Yeah, uh, work... offered me a grant contract and I’ll be going to Norway. For at least a year. So... yeah.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Steve blinks rapidly, “how-- when were you going to tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” you push your shoulders up, “I just found out.”

“You can’t...” Steve begins.

“That’s awesome,” Sam speaks over him, “hey,” he nudges you, “that is so fucking cool. Norway. Vikings and shit.”

Bucky nods and gives a thoughtful look, “rains a lot.”

“So I’ve heard,” you utter dumbly, not sure how to respond. “I got a lot to do before then so I might be a bit absent.”

“Don’t even worry about us,” Sam insists, “you need any help at all...”

Steve stands up suddenly and slams his bottle down. Before you can speak, he twists on his heels and storms across the apartment. You stare after him as he disappears into the next room and you hear the balcony door slide back then snap shut just as quickly.

You grip the beer bottle tight and look down. You didn’t think he’d be mad. You’ll be out of the way. He can get married and be happy.

“What a baby,” Bucky grumbles, “can’t be happy for anyone but himself.”

“Well, you are his best pal,” Sam snipes, “birds of a feather.”

“So that means I’m best man,” Bucky intones mischievously.

“No, it’s not best buddy, it’s best man--”

They continue their banter and you get up. You put down your chips and beer and leave without notice from the bickering couple. You near the balcony and look through to Steve as he leans on the rail, his head down. Gently, you slide the door open and step out.

Only the wind blows as you come closer to the railing. He roils in the cool evening air. You take a breath as you come up next to him.

“Sorry, it’s... a good opportunity.”

“No...” he drones, “I’m happy for you. I just... I can’t imagine my wedding without you. Or my life.” He lifts his head to look at you. “What am I going to do? You’re supposed to tell me what bowtie to wear and how to do my hair.”

“Peggy can do all that,” you cross your arms, “Steve, I can’t pass this up. If I stay in the city...” you let your voice trail off into the wind. If you stay, you’ll have to watch his happily ever after while yours never comes. “I’ll never do anything.”

“I know,” he dips his head again, “I’m proud of you. Really. But I’m going to miss you.”

Your cheeks tauten and your throat clenches. Your voice is creaky as you speak, “I’ll miss you too.”

He’ll miss you but he’ll never love you like you do him.

#steve rogers #thor #fic #series #au #someone new #mcu #grayish fic #angst fic #marvel #avengers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader

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cheolaholic · 5 months ago

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ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

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redladydeath · 2 months ago

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Monthly Proto Vox AU update

For anyone who doesn't know, ever since Prototype Vox was discovered, I've been gradually putting together a backstory for Vox centered around the idea that that's how he originally spawned in Hell. It's gotten to be over 10K words long. Just wanted to make a new masterpost since I've added onto the older one 32 times.

Also, I don't think I ever posted about this, but I put this on Ao3 a few weeks ago.

Alastor goes to speak with another overlord, trying to decide whether or not he should kill them. While there, he notices that said overlord has the most fascinating little toy/pet/jester. Such novel technology… he thinks he’ll take it, whether the overlord wants him to or not!

Alastor keeps Vox around because he’s cute and entertaining. As time passes, a legitimate friendship starts to form as Alastor realizes that Vox is far more than meets the eye— tricksy, devious, and intelligent. He learns that before he arrived in Hell, Vox was a handsome, well-respected adult man, and he isn’t too keen on constantly being mistaken for a child and treated like a joke by other sinners. A pity he has to live like that… but it’s not like there’s anything to be done for it! And Alastor must say, he’s fond of his little picture box the way he is.

With Alastor’s guidance, Vox slowly accumulates knowledge and resources and discovers that he can modify his body. He jumps on the opportunity at once— he doesn’t want to live like this anymore, and he’ll do anything to be respected (or at least taken seriously) by other people again. Alastor disapproves but holds his tongue.

Time passes, and Vox changes more and more things about himself until he’s almost unrecognizable. He and Alastor get into arguments about it. It’s galling to Vox that Alastor keeps insisting he was better off in a form he hated. Mix all this with the modernity and “morality”/standards stuff, and you eventually get Vox and Alastor falling out.

Years later, Vox hates that he was ever that weak and can’t stand being reminded of Alastor, their old relationship, or his early life in Hell. He works hard to destroy/bury any traces of who he used to be, but Alastor is a walking, eternal reminder of the past he’d rather forget. Alastor is loathe to admit it, but he still misses his old friend. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever truly knew him at all.

---

Freshly fallen Vox seeking out an overlord’s protection because, holy shit, if he tries to survive on the streets any longer, he’s gonna get killed, or worse. Most sinners get asked if they can do anything useful when they go to an overlord; Vox gets asked if he can sing, dance, and do comedy routines. He can, so he’s quickly scooped up by the overlord. He supposes he should be grateful that he was able to score a comfortable job doing something not terribly unpleasant, but the dehumanization of being treated like a doll or an adorable purse dog grates on him. He remembers who he really is (or used to be) and would do anything to be seen as a man again rather than a novelty.

---

Imagine feeling so utterly desexed by your body, finding someone you think you can trust to respect you, confessing that you’re in love with them, and they laugh in your face for thinking such a thing was even remotely possible. Alastor doesn’t do a great job clarifying that he’s disinterested in a relationship out of personal preference rather than because he doesn’t respect Vox, and Vox walks away from the encounter seething, believing that Alastor never saw him as anything more than a pet or a clown.

---

Man, this would especially suck for my hc version of Vox, who used to be a small-time Vaudevillian when he was a child. Like. Yaaaayyy, time to dance around and act cutesy for people who have complete power over you… again…… when you’re pushing forty…………

---

Vox was REALLY starting to feel like he'd made an irreversible mistake before Alastor came into his life. He'd been in the employ of his overlord for four years, and he could count the number of times he'd been allowed to leave their compound on two (four-fingered) hands. They weren't cruel to him per se, but they really did seem to see him as a pet– something to trail after them all day, do tricks on demand, and show off to colleagues at parties. Any plans he had for carving out a dignified, powerful life for himself were going up in smoke. He knew a lot of things from constantly overhearing conversations about the overlord's business, but he didn't have anyone to trade that information to because of his restricted mobility. He understood that he had some pretty unique powers, but he'd never gotten the chance to use them in combat, only to perform. It was becoming clear to Vox that the only way he was going to escape this doltish, embarrassing life was if someone killed his overlord (something he couldn't do himself due to the deal they struck).

And then the Radio Demon came walking through the door.

---

Vox really has no idea what Alastor's deal is when they first meet. Like. He kidnaps him but also says Vox can leave whenever he wants. But like. where is he supposed to go??? Alastor just killed his overlord, which, yeah, Vox wanted to happen, but now he's homeless and isn't sure how to proceed. Is it safe to stay with Alastor, or is he just going to kill him next?

Vox keeps up the "silly little cartoon" persona for a while because Alastor seems to find it amusing, but things gradually slip through the cracks. He's scared Alastor will abandon or kill him if he grows bored or dissatisfied with him, but... Alastor seems to like the real him? He actually lets him speak freely and talk about whatever he wants? He uses his tech powers to turn off the in-built censors that keep Vox from swearing?? When he realizes that Vox is actually really cunning, he wants to hear his feedback on things??? Sure, he still kinda talks down to him, but Alastor's like that with everyone. This... maybe this could be more than just trading one master for another.

---

Random thoughts about Vox’s overlord

She was enamored with him from the first moment she saw him. He was just so precious! And he was willing to do anything to receive her protection!

Her industry had nothing to do with entertainment; she took Vox in purely to be her own personal jester.

Not sure if she owned his soul or just had a deal with him to give him a safe place to live in exchange for his services.

Loved treating him like a doll. Would dress him in cute, oversized outfits, carry him around in her arms, and occasionally bring him to bed and cuddle him like some sort of plushie.

There were occasions, especially towards the beginning, when Vox would snap at her or reveal elements of his real personality. Those incidents would only lead to her doubling down on the demeaning treatment. She’d experienced mistreatment at the hands of men like him when she was alive and saw asserting her power over him as cathartic and karmic.

Usually brought him with her everywhere, but would sometimes leave him locked in her office/room by himself if she had something important scheduled. Vox had initially thought he could leave or at least walk around when she didn’t need him, but no. Besides, why would he want to leave? The streets of Hell were no place for a tiny, fragile thing like him!

Vox fucking hated her and was glad to see Alastor bash her brains in and feature her on his show.

---

Mainverse Vox died by being electrocuted by an ungrounded mic at work right before they went live. This Vox died by being electrocuted while trying to fix the family TV. His kids had been begging him to at least try to fix it since the repairman couldn’t come until the next day, and they didn’t want to miss their favorite cartoon. He was feeling indulgent that day and felt that, as the man of the house, he should be able to fix things without always calling someone else to do it for him. It didn’t end well.

---

Thinking about Vox and Alastor’s first encounter.

Alastor might have seen Vox before at an overlord event, being shown off by his boss or performing for her friends. He may have seen him for the first time when he walked into Vox’s overlord’s office and saw her toying with him. Either way, Alastor was immediately intrigued. He hadn’t seen many sinners like Vox, with his screen head and cartoony body, and could instantly tell he was a highly skilled performer. His eyes followed him, even as Vox’s overlord put him aside and ordered him to get her and Alastor drinks. Vox could tell Alastor was watching him but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It’s probably not a good sign when the infamous Radio Demon is eying you like you’re his next meal.

Eventually, the overlord noticed that Alastor was not paying full attention to their conversation and was preoccupied with Vox. The topic briefly switched to him before Alastor inquired if she’d be willing to bargain for him. Vox was horrified. The overlord attempted to politely decline; she couldn’t bear to part with her precious little poppet. He was hers, and it would be cruel to separate them— they adored each other so much, after all. Alastor just smiled blithely and clarified: he wasn’t asking.

All hell broke loose in an instant. One moment, Vox was observing a conversation between his boss and her colleague; the next, the office was crawling with shadows, and his overlord was pinned to the wall, impaled on a tentacle. Vox panicked and tried to flee, but there was no escaping that room. There are two options for what happens next: either Vox is seized by Alastor and teleported out of the building, or Vox’s boss screams at him to help her, only for him to glance between her and Alastor and fix her with an icy stare.

No matter what happened, the outcome was the same: Vox found himself teleported onto the streets of Hell with Alastor looming over him. He frantically attempted to talk Alastor out of killing him, but Al just laughed jovially and told Vox that he had no intention of harming him. Vox was free to leave whenever he wanted, but Alastor would like to see just how entertaining he truly was.

---

As they're walking, Alastor notices a weird clicking sound coming from Vox. He asks what it is, and Vox awkwardly explains that he's wearing tap shoes and starts trying to take them off as he walks. Alastor is amused and tells him not to bother. He'd love to see him dance sometime.

---

Val: Baby? What were things like before you met me? Vox: Awesome. I had- I had women all over me, they just couldn’t get enough. Everyone was always dying to see my shows. I was voted the hottest person in Hell. It was great. Vox’s actual early career in Hell:

---

Thinking about one of the times Vox “mouthed off” to his overlord. He may be a performer, but there’s only so long he can stay in character, especially when said character is so undignified. He refused to play along with one of her little games and snapped at her that he was a man, not a fucking show dog.

Next thing Vox knew, he was nearly blinded by pain as his boss twisted his antenna almost to its breaking point. Her voice sickeningly sweet, she told him she knew exactly what kind of man he had been— Earth’s crawling with them. But those days are over now. Respect has to be earned in Hell; it’s not just going to be handed to him like when he was alive. The afterlife has made him a joke, and the sooner he accepts that the happier he'll be. That’s what he signed up for when they made their little arrangement, after all. She asked if she was understood and kept twisting his antenna until she got a loud-and-clear “Yes, ma’am” out of him. With that, she snapped back to normal and either cheerfully ushered him towards [whatever she was forcing him to do] or dismissed him in her typical patronizing manner.

Vox broke half the items in his room that night in a rage. He tried to leave gouges on his skin and dents in his head, but he couldn’t manage it, what with his stupid, soft little hands.

---

It doesn’t really fit with my headcanon that Alastor was super white-passing when he was alive and spent most of his life pretending to be white in order to have more opportunities, but I feel like he may have felt a kinship with Proto-Vox due to them both being “outsiders”— people who are/were constantly dismissed by those in power and have to work twice as hard in order to be taken seriously, even though they’re more skilled and competent than everyone else in the room. And so it hurt all the more when Vox leapt at the first opportunity to change who he was in order to join the class of people who had once looked down on him. It didn’t fully click with Alastor that Vox wasn’t always like this– that he was trying to return to who he once was rather than abandoning who he’d always been.

---

Vox wasn’t exactly doing himself any favors in terms of connecting with the other sinners who worked under his overlord. He was so desperate to reestablish at least some control over his situation that, on the rare occasion he got to interact with people without his boss looming over them, he was insufferable, acting as though his position as their overlord's constant companion made him superior to regular employees. It never actually made him feel any better though, since most people either just rolled their eyes or testily reminded him that his oh-so-important job was to make a fool of himself all day and be doted on by his "owner."

---

To most outside observers, it really looked as though the relationship between Vox and his overlord was genuinely loving. She was just so affectionate with him. There was never a moment when she wasn’t tittering away at his jokes, or playing with his antennas or plug tail, or scooping him up into her arms or lap, or hugging or tickling or cuddling him, or covering him in kisses, or coming up with adorable pet names, or showing him off to others as though he were the rarest gem she’d ever come across. No one ever seemed to notice that Vox was never the one to initiate these kind of interactions. Depending on who you asked, it was either the most adoring master-servant arrangement Hell had ever seen, a (possibly biological?) mother-son dynamic, or just an INCREDIBLY kinky relationship. Vox played his part well, laughing along and hardly ever letting the smiling mask slip. No one ever could’ve guessed just how much he loathed her and the entire humiliating situation or how cruel she could be whenever he dared drop the act.

Well, no one except Alastor, that is.

---

Imo, Proto Vox would just sound like normal Vox slightly pitched up, but man, Hell giving him a lisp or some other "funny" way of speaking on top of everything else would be such a gut punch for him. His good looks and his charismatic manner of speech were key to his success when he was alive, and now both of those lifelines have been severed.

---

Personal, headcanon-specific thoughts:

Proto Vox’s outfit is very similar to a costume he wore during his childhood on Vaudeville.

Alternate option: While I hc that sinners spawn naked, if they don’t, then Vox spawned in the exact 1920s sailor suit he used to wear during most of his childhood performances.

His Hell form is a punishment not only because it robs him of all dignity, but because it’s a constant reminder of a part of his life when he had no power over his situation and was treated like an object meant only to entertain.

---

Thinking about how Alastor’s “a smile is a means of maintaining control” philosophy might strike a chord with Proto Vox. When he was alive (and later, in his career as an overlord), putting on a smile was a way for him to project the person he wanted others to perceive him as. If he looked the part, then people would believe he was the confident, steady, trustworthy man he presented as. After he arrived in Hell, though, a smile became a mask he could not take off. Hell had chosen a role for him, and if he failed to play it well enough, he risked permanent death or worse. He resented having to keep that mindless grin on his face at all times. This wasn’t who he wanted to be. This wasn’t who he was. The idea that he could use that iron mask to regain control over his life was foreign to him, but it made sense. Now that he was no longer chained to a master who kept him locked into that hated role at all times, he had a choice in how he wanted to use it— for day-to-day survival or to further his true ambitions?

---

Vox and Alastor’s first encounter was at an overlord party like something out of a Regency romance, except Vox was three feet tall and didn’t notice Alastor was watching him because he was too busy performing for his boss’ overlord friends. Alastor appreciated the skill on display in Vox’s routine and was intrigued by the unusual way his “owner” treated him. Sure, some overlords treat those under them as pets, but she was so overly cutesy and “loving” with him that it stood out, especially given the way Vox feigned reciprocation. Interesting.

---

A scene/story idea: Vox is sitting at a desk in a grand, spacious office. It’s late, and he’s just killing time, wishing he had a cigar (and a mouth to smoke it with) and occasionally scribbling down notes for future reference. The stationary he’s using has the date printed at the top, though. It’s his daughter’s tenth birthday. He reflects on how it’s been three years since he last saw her and the rest of his family and how he’ll likely never see them again. He hopes his wife is throwing her an appropriately extravagant party, at least. They’d gone all-out for their son’s tenth birthday; half the neighborhood was there, even one or two of the ladies from work who had blown him in exchange for putting in a good word with the producers. It was a great time.

And then his boss comes walking in, complaining about what a stressful day she’s had, and the illusion that this is Vox’s office shatters. He hops down to the floor, taking his dance/comedy routine notes with him. His boss is busy getting herself a drink, so he hopes she didn’t notice him sitting in her chair. He starts trying to engage her in conversation, switching to his work persona (cheerful, cutesy, and childish). She did notice him, but she just smiles indulgently and says he always knows just what to do to cheer her up— he looked so silly sitting at her big, important desk. Now, she needs a bit of comfort; they’ll be going to bed now. She scoops Vox up as easily as if he were a doll and carries him off to serve as her (very angular) teddy bear. Vox keeps the adoring smile plastered on his face and tries to put aside the burning shame and rage that this is what the afterlife has reduced him to: a child, a pet, a toy meant to entertain those who wield the actual power.

---

You know, come to think of it, there’s actually some basis to Alastor feeling a bit of a kinship with Vox. Aside from the obvious shared trait of them both being communications/entertainment demons, Alastor’s demonic form is a prey animal. Al never had to deal with the consequences of having that kind of form since he spawned so powerful (unless we’re going with the theory that he made his mystery deal right when he got to Hell and draws the majority of his power from it (which would be pretty interesting in this context…)), but still.

---

Made Vox's room in the Sims

---

Vox tried to walk out of his job once. His boss pushed him too far, and he snapped, yelling at her to find someone else to play this fucked up game with; he’d rather take his chances on the streets. Next thing he knew, he was bound, muted, and blindfolded, being crammed into a tiny suitcase. His overlord told him to reflect on what he’d said. There’s no life after second death, only nothingness. Is that really a risk he wants to take?

Vox was in “storage” for the next week. He didn’t try to leave again after that.

---

When Vox’s boss finally decided he’d had enough time to reflect, she opened the trunk to find Vox barely able to move under his own power. He was trembling like a freezing cat, having spent seven whole days bound in the fetal position, unable to move, speak, hear, or see. He couldn’t even unfurl himself from said position without her help. When she took him into her arms, he clung to her, any thoughts of hate or anger gone, replaced with a desperate desire for human connection after a week of nothingness. She cradled him in her arms— sweet as a lamb and without a shred of that odious pride she’d been working so hard to stamp out of him. Whispering kind, soothing words, she stroked his shaking, silent body as she carried him back to her bedroom. She dozed off with him in her arms, secure in the knowledge that her darling little doll had learned his lesson: being her toy is a privilege, and the only possible alternative for him is oblivion.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox and body dysmorphia

Vox hated everything about his body.

He hated being so small, not even half the size of most other sinners.

He hated his face, cute and goofy-looking. He hated his “missing tooth,” which only added to his childish appearance.

He hated his head, oversized and heavy. He hated how clumsy it made him before he became accustomed to it.

He hated not having a physical mouth and being unable to eat.

He hated his voice, higher pitched than it had been when he was alive. He hated the childish-sounding lisp he had been afflicted with.

He hated how he couldn’t swear or talk about adult topics without his voice being drowned out by an in-built censor.

He hated his body and its strange combination of wood and metal, both of which bent in ways that shouldn’t’ve been possible.

He hated his hands, soft and rounded and nailless.

He hated how he had spawned without genitals, completely smooth and sexless, like a doll.

He hated how no one perceived him as anything even remotely resembling a sexual being, even though he was a fully grown man who had once had his pick of beautiful women when he was alive.

He hated how he weighed almost nothing, making him easy for others to pick up or restrain.

He hated the way nothing in Hell was built to accommodate sinners his size, forcing him to climb (or be lifted onto) things as simple as chairs.

He hated the way his boss made him dress: in baggy outfits that made his smallness even more apparent, in children’s clothes, in silly, oh-so adorable costumes. He especially hated when she insisted on dressing him herself as though he were her doll.

He hated how often people mistook him for a child or deliberately talked down to him as though he was stupid just because of his ridiculous body.

He hated how people laughed at him and how he had no choice but to make them laugh in order to keep himself alive.

He hated how, in one fell swoop, Hell had robbed him of everything that had made him him. His good looks, his charisma, his respectability— everything. Never in a million years would he have anticipated that this would be his punishment for his misdeeds on Earth, for looking down on others and treating them like objects to be pushed around, but he had to admit, it was a pretty potent punishment nonetheless. And he would do anything to escape it.

---

Vox’s boss was kind of massively projecting her own resentments and trauma onto him. She didn’t actually know that much about him. It was pure luck that her impression of him as an arrogant chauvinist who had treated the people in his life poorly was… you know… accurate.

---

Vox realized that he had a voyeurism kink the third time his boss had sex with someone while he was still in the room. Probably not the outcome she intended, but it wasn’t like Vox could do anything about it anyway. He still felt sexual desire, but he’d spawned in Hell without genitals so that energy had nowhere to go. Just another lovely part of Vox’s Wonderful Afterlife.

---

Most sinners are horrified when they see their new forms for the first time. Vox was just devastated.

He was horrified when he first woke up, of course– transported to a strange new place, surrounded by giant monsters, and barely able to keep from swaying under the weight of his oversized head. No one paid him or his panic any mind save for a few smirks and chuckles. Vox found himself pressed up against a wall, out of the way of the flow of pedestrians, trying to process what was going on. Once he realized something was wrong with his body, he ducked into a nearby store, desperate to find a mirror (and get away from the crowds of fellow sinners). The store clerk let him in; they weren’t supposed to let newlydead into the shop since they usually just cause a scene, but Vox looked harmless, and they felt a little bad for such a tiny, fearful sinner. Vox made a beeline for the nearest mirror.

When his reflection finally came into view, Vox… he was lost for words. Seeing his childlike proportions, it finally registered that the world hadn’t gotten bigger; he’d gotten smaller. His body… there was something wrong with it. It was made of wood and metal like a puppet; only the materials seemed to bend like rubber. Worse than that, it was completely smooth and featureless; his genitals were simply gone. His hands were soft, rounded, and nailless, more like stuffed gloves than human hands. His head was encased— no, not encased, replaced with a television set that looked like it made up the majority of his body weight. Displayed on its screen was a face like something out of a cartoon: large, shiny, googly eyes, a wide mouth, and one conspicuously absent tooth. All topped off with a pair of floppy, overly long antennas that made him resemble some kind of insect.

Vox was speechless, staring at his new body. He felt tears bubbling up as he examined each part of it. He wasn’t sure how, but some part of him knew this wasn’t a dream and that this form would not be temporary. No tears fell though, trapped behind the glass of the— his screen. He couldn’t recall the moment of his death, but the realization of where he must be began to dawn on him. A soft, despairing sound escaped him, and Vox realized his voice, too, had been changed. He was not himself anymore, just this tiny, adorable thing, right out of one of the cartoons he’d been trying to repair the TV so his children could watch. A joke.

Suddenly, Vox felt someone grab him by the arm, dragging him away from the mirror, his feet barely brushing the floor. The owner had noticed a newlydead had snuck in and was having the prerequisite “What have I become?” freakout in their store. Carelessly, they shoved/threw Vox back onto the street and slammed the door behind them. Reeling, trying to wrap his mind around the gravity of the situation, Vox stumbled and collapsed on the sidewalk, surrounded by sinners who either stepped around him like he was nothing or paused for a moment to chuckle at the clumsy newlydead struggling to regain his balance under the weight of his massive head.

---

Vox's own shitty beliefs ended up being used against him during his early years in Hell.

In life, he'd treated his wife and son poorly because they complained about being unhappy with the way things were. Vox believed that if all your physical needs were met and you were able to live comfortably, you had no right to complain. He provided them with everything, and all he asked for in return was for them to be the happy, perfect wife and son he expected them to be. What was so hard about that?!

In death, the tables were turned. Vox was able to live comfortably in a safe environment, doing a job that most sinners would describe as incredibly cushy, but he was desperately unhappy. He was forced to play an inauthentic, demeaning role 24/7 and couldn't complain about it unless he wanted to be punished. Just sit there quietly and smile while the "grownups" are talking. No one wants to hear your silly little opinions. You should be grateful that you're even allowed to be here.

---

Words were Vox's boss' preferred weapon when it came to surreptitiously tormenting him, but she wasn't above using physical violence as a means of "discipline" either. Aside from the antenna and "storage" incidents, she'd occasionally employ "percussive maintenance" at the beginning of his time with her in response to breaks in character or sullen comments. Once or twice, she burnt him with cigarettes in response to particularly "bad" offenses.

---

Vox's boss would give him gifts sometimes. Little presents wrapped up all pretty with a bow. Sometimes, they were for special occasions, like the anniversary of his "coming to live with her"; sometimes, they were "rewards for good behavior." Vox would accept the presents graciously and then never open them, leaving them to collect dust in his room. There were a few occasions when she made him open them in front of her, though. Usually, they were just quaint little trinkets or clothes, but once, she gifted him a goldfish (or the Hellish equivalent) in a tiny bowl. It was the closest she'd gotten to something he'd actually want, yet it still felt like a veiled taunt. It didn't take long for the fish to die; its bowl was simply too small.

---

Vox does his absolute best to keep his past a secret from everyone, particularly Valentino. He knows on some level that it wouldn’t really change anything other than give Val and Vel something else to tease him about, but Vox’s ego is so fragile that he feels like he’d die if they found out. Unfortunately for him, Valentino is incredibly observant when he wants to be. He doesn’t know the specifics, but based on various little things from throughout the years and the pointed insults he’s heard Alastor throw at Vox, he can guess that Vox’s early days in Hell were... less than auspicious. However, he assumes Vox was just some corporate toady, and he would be just as shocked as anyone else to learn how Vox actually began his afterlife.

---

Playing with the idea that Vox’s boss hired him with no ulterior motives; she simply thought he was cute and would be an easy source of entertainment. However, as time went on and she got a better sense of what kind of person Vox was, she began deliberately tormenting him. The abuse and humiliation started off under the pretext that she was only doing it to “correct an attitude problem,” but it soon became clear that her real issue with Vox had nothing to do with his abilities as a performer.

---

It doesn’t really fit with the “lore” I’ve been putting together for this AU, but the idea of Vox trying to go in for various media/performance auditions and either being laughed out of them or told to look into less dignified roles is compelling to me. He looks and sounds so much like a goofy little child; why on Earth would anyone even consider him, especially when there are countless other sinners looking for work whose forms aren’t so distractingly cutesy?

I’ll be honest: Babydoll from Batman TAS is a significant influence on how I conceptualize Proto Vox.

---

Reminds me of fakeannafromthebox's Caterpillar Val AU. Vox is so miserable. He wants to be back in his modified body NOW, but it's going to take a while for them to rebuild it. Val and Vel tease him about it at first... until they realize that Vox is genuinely really hurt by it. He never wanted them to see him like this.

The denizens of Hell are confused as to why Vox is suddenly on a month-long hiatus when he's literally never taken a break from the media before.

---

Been considering whether it should just be happenstance that brings Vox and Alastor together or if Vox should hit his breaking point, go behind his boss' back, and send Alastor a false message in her name, hoping that it will provoke him into killing her.

---

Had a mental image today of Vox sitting in on one of his boss’ conversations with a colleague, as per usual. He’s bored and miserable until the two overlords start discussing the Radio Demon. Vox has heard stories— might’ve even caught one or two of Alastor’s broadcasts— but he’s never heard him discussed like an actual person rather than an urban legend. Vox’s boss starts shittalking Alastor, and Vox suddenly gets an idea. He begins secretly recording her, capturing all her private complaints about him on tape. Vox is terrified of what she might do if she discovered what he was doing, but at this point, he's so good at masking his true emotions that she doesn’t even notice anything is off. Vox held onto that recording until he gained access to a communications device. He hesitated for a moment, thinking of all the ways this plan could go wrong and result in his permanent death, but… he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He couldn’t bear to stay here any longer.

Alastor figured out it was Vox who sent him that message a couple years into their friendship, but he didn’t hold it against him. In fact, he was impressed with Vox’s determination, taking his fate back into his hands regardless of the risks. He eventually told Vox so himself when the topic came up years later.

---

Vox once made the mistake of snapping that he was not a child at one of his boss’ colleagues who had been talking about him like he was too stupid to understand what they were saying. Honestly, the momentary shock on the colleague’s face was not worth the ensuing, agonizing conversation where his boss muted him, apologized to the other overlord, then prompted them to try to guess his real age, and took far too much pleasure in explaining to them that despite Vox’s appearance, he was actually 41.

---

Thinking about Proto Vox sitting in on his boss' overlord meetings like the Egg Bois in episode 3. Most of the time, his boss would hold him in her lap like a doll, but sometimes, she'd leave him sitting on the ground until the meeting ended. He wished he had a way to put the information he was “eavesdropping” on to good use, but he wasn't allowed to leave the stupid compound without being accompanied by his boss.

---

One particularly dehumanizing experience Vox remembers far more vividly than he would like was the first time his overlord stripped him naked without his consent so she could redress him in a new outfit she’d picked out. This became a semi-frequent occurrence, but it never stopped making his skin crawl. This sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen to someone like him, and yet here he was, robbed not only of the freedom to choose his own clothes but even to dress himself if his boss so willed it.

Even over half a century later, Vox still needs to be coaxed and convinced by Valentino to surrender control during sex. He has no intention of ever telling Val why having someone else undress him puts him on edge.

---

cw sexual assault

The first time Vox’s overlord stripped him naked was also when she discovered that he had no genitals. Of course, she couldn’t let that fact go uncommented on and groped between his legs to confirm, cooing all the while about how perfect Vox was. Vox didn’t even have time to dissociate during the experience; it all happened so fast. Before he had time to process what happened, he was already being redressed in whatever stupid outfit she’d picked out for him that time. The dissociation came later.

In hindsight, Vox thinks it’s sort of darkly funny how he felt as though he’d been sexually assaulted despite not having any sex organs at the time. It’s really not.

---

Thank you!!!

Yeah, Vox is extremely uncomfortable with thinking of himself as a victim. It's easier to just compartmentalize the experience and tell himself that of course he wasn't sexually assaulted– sex wasn't even involved!

At the time, he had no idea how to feel about it. Before he even had time to process the event, he was expected to just move on with the day like nothing happened. Vox wished he could've just forgotten about it– it only lasted for a few seconds, it "didn't count" because he didn't have any genitals to grope, and, in his successful-white-1950s-man brain, groping wasn't even that bad anyway– but the feeling of violation lingered, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it or distract himself. He eventually managed to push those feelings away, but the memory will still pop up on occasion and he'll have to convince himself all over again that it wasn't any different than all the other times his boss manhandled him.

---

Oh, I'm glad you liked the post!

Yeah, I can see Alastor giving that roach speech to Vox when he's trying to convince him to stop modifying himself. Vox is just like "You think I'm a bug???" He never noticed; he was too focused on the cartoon/TV thing. Message not received.

Alastor probably has weird feelings about the way Vox's old boss treated him. On one hand, it's kind of funny, and Alastor's clearly not opposed to treating people like pets, given his later relationship with Husk. On the other... he feels a weird sort of kinship with Vox in so many regards, and his relationship with his overlord... [leak discussion] it's uncomfortably similar to Alastor's with his contract holder– tricked into a bad deal, treated with condescension, and forced to pretend to adore them in public [end leak discussion]. Alastor likes the idea of helping Vox gain power and rise above his station, but not him changing himself in order to accomplish that goal– he sees too much of himself in Vox to stand that.

Vox doing ad reads/voiceovers for Alastor's show is a great idea. Perfect way to get back into the industry without opening himself up to mockery; plus, he's got a wonderful voice. Would also give him another reason to hate radio once he and Al split: audio-only work will always be a reminder of a time when he couldn't bear to be seen.

---

Might incorporate how long it’s taking me to come up with a name for Vox’s boss by making it so he’s only allowed to call her “Ma’am”/“Madam”/“Miss” instead of her actual sinner name.

---

Thoughts on Proto Vox in the RAM verse

Proto Vox thoughts that heavily feature my OCs

---

Once he finally gained the ability to project a functioning mouth onto his screen, Vox got himself into some… interesting situations trying to keep up with Alastor whenever they went out for drinks. He didn’t care that he was half Alastor’s size; he’s drinking just as much as he is! Maybe even more!!

Those were some of the funniest nights Alastor had (and still has) ever experienced.

---

Thinking about Vox, dead for a week or so, with cracks in his screen and dressed only in a button-up shirt he'd stripped off a corpse double his size, pitching himself to his soon-to-be overlord and trying not to come across as desperate as he truly was. The streets of Hell aren't kind to anyone, but especially not to defenseless-looking, newly arrived sinners with body parts that could potentially be resold. In his short time in Hell, Vox had already had multiple people try to strip him for parts and had only escaped them by the skin of his teeth. He'd barely been able to sleep since he arrived, constantly on guard for more attackers. He looked a fucking wreck, but that only added to his charm, in his boss' opinion. He looked like a starving Victorian orphan trying to give a serious business pitch– so cute!

---

Vox wishes he could feel comfortable in his bedroom at the compound. Being in there means he’s away from his overlord— that he can finally drop the act and just breathe. It’s a nice room, too, especially compared to the living quarters of most other employees. Vox feels as though the privacy and comfort should be enough. But… it isn’t really his room, is it?

His overlord chose the decor: soft and twee and old-fashioned. She can start pounding on the door, ordering him to come out and join her at any moment. The fact she’s too tall to fit in the room is small comfort. It feels like living in a dollhouse; there’s the illusion of privacy, but one wall is missing, allowing the owner to move things around or snatch up the doll inside at a moment’s notice.

---

Honestly, Vox's boss definitely got her "money's" worth out of Vox. He wasn't lying about being a multi-talented performer; he had a wide array of skills.

He had extensive training and experience with dance and comedy (although he was 25 years out of practice) from his childhood on Vaudeville. He was a consummate singer, good at improv, and familiar with a handful of instruments, particularly the piano. He could act fairly well (although he was always more convincing when he came up with stuff on the spot) and had even become a perfect mimic due to his demonic form.

Vox's overlord couldn't have asked for a better entertainer, and she counted herself lucky that he just happened to wander into her building one day looking for work– she didn't even need to place an ad!

Vox was proud of his various skills– he sure as hell hadn't spent years working himself to the bone to hone them for nothing, after all– but he missed being the host rather than the entertainment. He hadn't had to perform like this since he was a child, and it was just as exhausting as he remembered.

---

Vox's primary job was to be a jester for his overlord, but he was also somewhat of an assistant to her. He'd make or serve her and her guests drinks (alcohol, coffee, whatever), carry things for her (which would often be embarrassingly difficult, given his size), and run very minor errands for her (usually just delivering messages to employees a few doors down). Additionally, once she discovered that he could record audio, she started using him as a living tape recorder. She'd bring him to meetings, have him record the conversation without the other party knowing, and then play the audio back once they were in private so she could take note of the exact phrasing and use it against them later on. This last use for Vox ended up being her downfall; she kept him so cloistered that she never thought that he'd be able to use her own words against her one day.

---

Up until the incident where he tried to quit, Vox’s boss would sometimes casually threaten to replace him if he didn’t immediately bend to her will. There were countless other sinners and Hellborn that were perfectly capable of doing his job without an attitude problem; why shouldn’t she just trade him in for one of them? Or perhaps she should employ another entertainer to work alongside him (i.e. compete with him). If Vox thought he was too good for this job, then he could go back to the streets whenever he liked. These threats almost always succeeded in getting him to comply, and she was a bit disappointed when she realized they were no longer as effective as they’d once been.

---

Honestly, Vox’s boss getting another “pet” would be a whole shitshow. When Vox was alive, he once outed a coworker as gay because he was getting more airtime than him, which led to the coworker’s family institutionalizing him. And that was when the stakes were just career success. Vox may hate his job, but it’s what keeps him safe and alive. He’d feel so threatened by the new person that he’d probably end up getting them killed just to protect his position. His overlord is 100% aware of what's going on, but she gets a kick out of watching Vox do whatever it takes to stay in her favor.

---

Vox actually starts initiating affectionate interactions with her out of desperation not to be replaced. His boss (who lowkey only wanted make sure he didn’t grow complacent in his position) is delighted. The poor imp she hired has no idea what they’ve been sucked into. Vox is cold and hostile when they’re in private but then will turn on a dime the second he sees their overlord. Their boss is constantly doing subtle little things to pit them against each other, but the imp feels like they never truly had a chance of surpassing and replacing Vox. All the imp wants to do is make enough to feed their family, but in the end, all they get is being ripped in two by vines when Vox snitches on them for taking a few extra bucks from his boss’ desk.

---

In the modern day, Vox and Alastor disagree about how they met. Alastor will say that he rescued Vox from his overlord and took him in afterward. Vox will say (or rather, would say, since he never speaks about his past) that he rescued his damn self and chose to stick with Alastor because it was the best possible option at the time. Neither of them are wrong, but their mutual bitterness skews their perception of the situation; Vox, the "helpless charity case," and Alastor, the "means to an end."

---

velvette seeing the kind of clothes vox used to have to wear for work and just. vomiting on his behalf

---

Vox thought he was at a bit of an advantage when his soon-to-be boss offered him a simple deal sealed with a handshake: serve as an entertainer for her and she'll give him a safe place to live. Verbal agreements aren't as enforceable as written ones, and the vagueness of the deal left him plenty of room to wriggle his way out if need be!

What Vox didn't realize was that things in Hell don't work like they do on Earth. Sure, vague deals have loopholes, but it's the person with more power who's usually able to take advantage of them as opposed to the "victim." Additionally, written contracts have clauses– specific stipulations that must be abided by. If he'd negotiated things a bit more closely, he could've demanded that she allow him freedom of mobility or had to accept any attempts at a resignation. As is, she was able to keep him at her side at all times and threaten him into staying because there wasn't anything in the deal that said she couldn't do those things; as long as she was giving him a place to stay, she was upholding her end of the bargain.

Vox definitely remembered this lesson when he started drawing up contracts/deals of his own during his later endeavors. Deals can be just as binding as soul contracts. Vagueness is an invaluable tool when it comes to tricking people into bad deals, although granular specificity certainly has a place too, so long as you can get the sucker not to read the fine print.

---

Out of all the things Vox had to do to entertain his overlord, slapstick was his least favorite. It was just so undignified. He already hated having to play dumb and childish, but being the butt of the joke was so much worse than simply being doted on. He couldn’t stand being laughed at, but he didn’t have another choice; if his boss wanted comedy, he had to give it to her, otherwise he’d be punished. For as much baggage he had regarding dance, he would chose it over pretending to hurt himself (or genuinely hurting himself) for his boss’ amusement every time.

This hatred of being laughed at persisted even after he escaped his overlord’s clutches. Vox eventually learned to use his unthreatening appearance to his advantage, but back in the day, a good way to get your shit rocked by the Radio Demon’s tiny apprentice was to laugh at him when he wasn’t trying to be funny.

---

As of right now, Vox's sinner name has always been "Vox." He's eternally grateful that he'd already picked out his sinner name by the time he approached his overlord, because who knows what ridiculous name she would've saddled him with otherwise. However, if Vivziepop ever talks about Cockroach Vox and it turns out he didn't used to be named "Vox," then that name would've been the one he went by up until he met Alastor.

---

Vox was not an overly foul-mouthed person when he was alive, although he certainly wasn't afraid to swear if the situation called for it. However, that casual relationship with tasteful speech went completely out the window after he died. Aside from the in-built censor that kept him from audibly cursing or talking about subjects like sex, he now had a very restrictive persona that he needed to play into. Having to say shit like "Gee whiz" or "Golly" in order to keep up the "cute little cartoon" act was maddening. It was such a relief when Alastor figured out a way to shut off the censor; Vox finally had complete freedom in how he chose to speak again. Honestly, he may have gone a bit too far in the other direction, but given the culture of Hell, it's more unusual to be excessively clean with your speech than it is to swear every other sentence.

---

I wonder if any of the other, older overlords remember Vox from his early days. His boss had a habit of bringing him to meetings and having him perform at parties, so someone like Zestial would’ve probably encountered him at least a couple of times.

On one hand, Vox is beyond grateful that none of the old-timers recognize him as “Lantana’s little lapdog.” On the other, he’s slightly offended that no one paid him enough mind back then to remember him.

Zestial 100% knows who Vox used to be, he’s just choosing to keep that information to himself for the time being.

---

Thinking about a scenario where Vox gets stuck in a hopelessness spiral that causes him to break character in front of his boss. He asks her why she’s doing this to him; what does she get out of all this? Lantana is annoyed by his self-pity and asks him if he has any idea how lucky he is.

Oh, poor Vox, forced to live in the lap of luxury. Condemned to perform wholesome little routines for one of the most powerful overlords in the city while other sinners (female and male) have to prostitute themselves to survive. What an awful fate, having to let her spoil him, love him. Countless sinners would kill to have half of what he has, and here he is complaining because his ego is too fragile to handle not being “in charge” anymore. She’s shocked he’s so ungrateful that he can’t appreciate the gift she’s given him; childhood is a beautiful thing, after all.

Vox knows it’s all lies— she enjoys humiliating him, forcing him to smile through gritted teeth as he plays the demeaning role she’s picked out for him— but after years in her clutches, a small, animal part of his brain wonders if she’s right. Is she being honest when she says she only hurts him to correct him? Does she actually believe that taking away his freedom and keeping him in a gilded cage is love? Is he really better off here than he would be out in the world, struggling to force people to see him as the man he really was used to be?

No. No, he can’t let her get in his head like this. He’s had to give up so much of himself to her; she can’t have his thoughts too. Just don’t say anything. Let her think she’s made him second-guess himself. Don’t allow her to wrestle what little control he has left from his grasp.

---

Vox’s slogan, “Trust us!” started off as “Trust me!” After a while with Alastor, Vox learned to start playing into his harmless appearance in order to gain people’s trust, only to lead them to their deaths or otherwise betray them later on. Most people thought he was either a literal child, stupid, or so weak that they could easily overpower him if need be, so it was easy for him to convince them to let their guards down. Vox managed to get his first few contracts using this method. Trust him! He couldn’t hurt a fly, honest!

Alastor loved this routine, not only because it was hilarious to watch people unknowingly dig their own graves, but because it was useful to him as well. Alastor’s reputation had become so fearsome that it was difficult to get people to stick around long enough to ensnare unless they were truly desperate. It was helpful to have Vox around to lure people in, or to just run errands that would’ve otherwise been a pain due to people’s annoying habit of fleeing at the sight of him. They were a good team, he and Vox; Alastor couldn’t understand why he would choose to give that up in order to become an off-brand copy of him. Yes, it wasn’t the most dignified niche, but it was an important one! And one that very few could pull off even half as well as Vox!

---

Random thought: Vox’s original voice made it impossible for others to tell whether he was a child or an adult. He didn’t quite sound like a real child, but his voice was pitched in such a way that he didn’t read as an adult either— sort of like when adult voice actors play kids. Vox could still hear Himself in certain inflections and in moments when he was allowed to drop the act, but it was extremely alienating, never truly feeling like himself even when he was doing something as simple as speaking.

---

I don’t subscribe to the “Valentino started off with his own abusive pimp” theory (not because I think it’s implausible, it’s just that my HC version of him only worked under the previous overlord of the sex trade for like a year before killing them), plus I think Vox and Val met after Vox was already somewhat established, but whoo-boy, the two of them meeting while they’re both still under the thumbs of their respective abusive bosses would be fun.

---

Two concepts:

Vox’s boss brings him along to an overlord party that Val happens to be performing at. Some drunk dumbass picks him up and shoves him onto the platform where Val was pole dancing— they thought it’d be funny to make the sexless little clown interact with the dirty whore. That was Vox and Val’s first meeting. (Loosely inspired by some of kibbles-bits’ art)

Vox and Val’s respective bosses start up a casual relationship, resulting in the two of them visiting each other’s bases semi-frequently. They get to talking and eventually come to realize that, holy shit, the other guy is an actual person?? And a fun/interesting/clever person too???

---

Vox: Yeah, my #%$!@ of a boss makes me sleep with her sometimes. Val: Ohhhh, me too! Well, at least Mantis Bitch is sexy~ Vox: What? No, I mean she literally makes me sleep in the same bed as her. Like kids do with stuffed dolls. Val: …Huh. Well, I guess that must be somebody’s kink. Vox: $?*@&€# %*¥=…

---

Self-indulgent 4 am whump thought (cw involuntary surgery)

what if proto vox spawned with his childhood leg injury intact? it’s usually not an issue as long as he doesn’t exert himself, but his new job requires him to spend most of the day standing and perform physically intense routines for his boss. for the first several weeks, he doesn’t let on that he’s in pain since he’s terrified of being thrown back out on the streets, but eventually, either his boss confronts him about why he’s suddenly developing a limp or he makes the mistake of mentioning it to her himself, hoping he can convince her to be a bit more restrained with her orders. either way, when vox explains that he’s had this issue since he was a child and that there’s no way to get rid of it, lantana just casually says that she’ll see to it, no problem. vox is concerned by her self-assured tone, but when he asks her what she meant, she abruptly changes the subject with a finality that tells him this is not a matter to be debated.

for the next week, vox is left wondering what she intends on doing. just as he was starts to forget about it, he gets his answer. one day, vox wakes up to find himself in an operating room-turned workshop, held to the table by a few flimsy straps and a nurse(?) gently restraining him. there’s no need to be frightened! they’re just going to see if there’s anything they can do to fix his leg, that’s all. vox tries to reign in his panic as the head doctor examines his leg, but it soon reaches a fever pitch when it’s determined they can repair the damage! by replacing the “bone.”

it’s painful, having someone saw through several layers of his wires, but not as painful as vox imagined it would be. the horror of watching it happen, though, makes it all so much worse. watching someone reach into the mess of his leg and slowly pull out a long, metal rod is like something out of a nightmare. the “surgeons” measure and examine the rod (his bone), then cut a replacement to his size and insert it back into his leg. his wires (his flesh) quickly knit back together with only a bit of help from the doctors, and suddenly vox is back on his feet, being told to return to work as though he didn’t just watch his own leg “bone” be forcibly cut out and replaced.

it taught him that his body could be modified. he never had to deal with his old injury again. vox chooses to focus on these things rather than the absolute terror he felt watching them operate on his leg. he doesn’t need (doesn’t want) to think about the experience itself, only the outcome.

---

3am thought: Vox at the beginning of his employment, trying to figure out what his boss’ limits are and what he can get away with. He’s not thrilled that her idea of “entertainment” seems to mostly consist of song, dance, and comedy, so he starts trying to engage her in conversation instead. Vox is a great conversationalist, and he knows it. His plan is to pull her in, convince her that they have some kind of genuine connection, and then use that to his advantage. That plan is dashed though when, after two or three attempts at engaging her in substantial, adult conversation, she cuts him off and briskly tells him that she didn’t hire him for his conversational skills, she hired him to entertain. If she wanted to hear him speak, she would tell him, but right now, it’d be prudent of him to shut up and do as he’d been told.

---

Random wondering: What would it take for Vox to finally snap? Or would he just become so good at staying in-character that he appears to have snapped/given up to everyone around him?

Idea: Alastor acquiring Vox after he’s cracked and fully given into his boss after decades in her service. It’s only with Alastor that Vox slowly starts pulling himself back together, allowing elements of his original/real personality to re-emerge. Alastor doesn’t even mean to do this; he just treats Vox with a modicum more respect than he’s used to and gives him positive feedback when he acts more like himself. Vox idolizes Alastor for “saving him from madness,” so of course he flies off the handle when they have their falling out.

---

Vox was lucky his body operated on rubber hose physics. The size difference between him and his boss was so extreme that if it didn’t, she could’ve easily shattered his bones (if he had any) or dislocated his limbs, simply by handling him too roughly. All the better. She was usually fairly gentle, but since she knew she could treat him like a rag doll, occasionally, she did. It hurts, dangling in the air by the arm while the person holding you gives you whiplash every time they move too suddenly, but not as much as it would for an organic demon.

---

Three random thoughts:

1) I checked, and the height-difference between Proto Vox and his boss (and Valentino) is directly proportional to that of the tallest and smallest women in the world.

2) Shirley Temple would probably be a good inspiration for Proto Vox’s style of performance.

3) It could be interesting to play with the way Vox’s innocent and wholesome persona would interact with Hell’s general culture. Lantana kept him pretty desexed and infantilized while at “home,” but when she made him perform for groups, the comedy of the routine would be derived from contrast. Most demons wouldn’t get the appeal of his usual schtick played straight, but contrast that cutesy shit with Hell’s usual fixations (sex, profanity, and violence)? Now there’s something worth laughing about. It’s like teasing a fallen cherub.

---

the mental image of lantana telling vox to “go play” at a party will not leave me

“darling” “baby” “sweetheart” “dear”

i am slowly giving in to the whump urges

---

random fact: the way vox is treated by his boss in this au is heavily inspired by the way some imps (particularly the smaller ones) seem to be treated in the hellaverse

---

thinking about the first time lantana struck vox.

it was just so unexpected. vox could hardly even remember the last time someone had hit him— maybe when he was a rowdy young twenty-something? his parents had occasionally struck him as a child, but that was rare.

a week or two before, he’d made a comment that was a bit too sullen for her liking and she’d suddenly grabbed his arm, striking it once with an object like a schoolteacher with a misbehaving student. it’d caught vox off guard, but it was more shocking than painful, and lantana instantly moved on like nothing had happened. he didn’t expect things to escalate so quickly.

he spoke out of turn— that’s what prompted it. he’d been listening to his boss discuss business matters with an associate, and he’d tried throwing in his two cents. it was still early on; vox was testing what he could and couldn’t get away with and had thought the two of them might find his feedback worthwhile. he was wrong. he’d only gotten a couple words out before he was suddenly knocked to the floor by a blow from one of his boss’ lower arms. she didn’t even say anything, just returning to her conversation while he was left stunned on the ground.

when the colleague finally left, lantana picked vox up, sat him on her desk so they were at least somewhat closer to eye level, and laid out exactly what she expected from him from now on. he would not speak unless spoken to when in the company of others; she brought him along to these meetings to be visual stress relief, not to participate. on that note, he would not talk to her about business at all. she had no interest in his opinions, and going forward, she would not hesitate to discipline him if he kept trying to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. finally, and most importantly, he needed to remember his role. he was there to entertain her— to be a sweet, silly little distraction from the stresses of overlordship, and she expected him to act like it. it didn’t matter if she wasn’t playing with him right at that very moment, he was still “on the clock.” amuse her when she wasn’t busy, sit quietly and look cute when she was, and above all, stay in character. she would strike him as many times as was necessary in order to get that through his head, and would throw him out if he still refused to comply.

lantana asked if she was understood, and vox, terrified of returning to the streets, agreed. he left the room hating her, but also felt a strange, unwanted sense of embarrassment that he had overstepped to the point where she decided she “needed to” hit him. he should’ve known better. this woman was not to be “trusted” any more than she was to be manipulated.

---

Random thought: Proto Vox's unofficial theme would be "Make 'Em Laugh" from Singin' in the Rain

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was thinking about female or trans male proto vox recently and got to wondering what lantana would be like in that scenario since i've made gender dynamics such a big part of her character. came up with a few different options.

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#Just infuriating things about being three feet tall in a world where the average height is 6’6: door knobs.

Vox had three options when encountering a closed door back in his early days: knock and hope someone on the other side heard him, ask a nearby person to open it for him (which always made his skin crawl), or try to figure out a way to reach it on his own. The worst was when someone saw him struggling to reach the door knob, took pity on him, and opened the door for him, usually with a condescending comment tacked on at the end. It was such a blessing once he finally unlocked his electricity/teleportation powers and didn't have to deal with that crap anymore.

---

Random cheesy idea: Three moments in Vox’s life when the phrase “children should be seen and not heard” was relevant. The first is a time his parents applied it to him, the second is a time he said it about his own children, and the third is his boss using it against him in Hell.

---

thinking about option 2 vox. she says something snappish to her boss about not being a child. next time they go out, the clothes lantana gives her to wear are different than usual: clothes that are exactly to her taste from back when she was alive. they're somewhat oversized.

vox looks ridiculous with her stylish, refined dress hanging awkwardly on her sexless wooden frame. she's sliding around in too-large heels. the gloves reach all the way to her shoulders, sagging pitifully around her arms. she looks like a child playing dress up; a little girl wearing her mother's clothes. it was like a slash to the heart, seeing herself like this; knowing that even if she had the freedom to choose how she dressed, she would always look like a joke.

the cocktail dress and heels got her laughed at and mocked more than usual. the pinafores and bows just made people gush about how adorable she was sometimes. it was easy to see which was the better option.

it was years before vox felt comfortable enough to start occasionally dressing her age again. alice wouldn't mock her for choosing to dress as an adult. she'd mock her for a whole lot of other things, but at least they were never tied to her appearance (aside from her peculiar modern head, of course!).

---

I know I said this verse’s Vox died while trying to fix a TV, but what if he still got electrocuted on set, but instead of a quick little zap, there was a massive, cartoonish explosion

---

Idea regarding the "storage" incident: The thing that prompted that confrontation was another overlord/business associate showing an interest in Vox. They were involved in the movie industry and thought they could put him to good use in their films, so they asked Lantana if they could purchase him or even just rent him out for a bit. Vox was thrilled– finally, a chance to get back into the industry and out of this fucking building! And it'd just fallen right into his lap! He immediately tried to say "yes," but Lantana cut him off and turned down the offer. She had no intention of giving him up, so she wouldn't let him get away that easily. Vox was pissed when she said "no." He usually held his tongue when his boss did something that upset him, but he was not about to let this person who didn't even own his soul take away this opportunity. He dropped his cutesy persona, demanded she give him a reason he couldn't go, and then tried to accept the other overlord's offer. Lantana sharply grabbed him by the arm, saying something along the lines of "Because you still haven't learned to do as you're told." She denied her now rather uncomfortable associate once again and asked them to leave. Vox tried to shout to them as they turned to leave, but Lantana just muted him, then started twisting his antenna when he tried to unmute himself. Once the other overlord was gone, Vox exploded at Lantana and tried to quit right then and there, but of course, she wasn't going to let that happen. Once he was let out of "storage," Vox was too scared of what else she might do to him to try to quit/escape again (at least, not openly).

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