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#but man do i feel bad for people who cant enjoy things if they get spoiled about major plot points
oifaaa · 7 months
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I honestly don't know how people who care about spoilers handle life on the internet
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danveration · 3 months
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
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aristia-pjoheadcanons · 4 months
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i love your headcanons! can you write percy jackson x daughter of hades??
(nsfw, sfw, or both)
percy jackson dating a daughter of hades
pairings: percy jackson x reader
warnings: (sfw) + nsfw
author's note: I love writing nsfw, remember that I always age up the characters when writing NSFW!
->masterlist
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art by vidia
Being the daughter of hades has its perks, people stay away from you the moment you were claimed. They know better, but the bad thing is that you couldnt find yourself getting comfortable with others if it meant that you couldn't use your powers completely during games/sparring.
Luckily for you, percy is your guy. he can keep up with any attacks or summons or any power you have - and he does not let you down.
he never gets scared of anything you show him (perks of defeating a one titan and one goddess before the age of 18).
Besides, he has two good friends who are also a child of hades/pluto. He is interested in what you can do, but respects it if you dont wanna show him.
In a relationship percy does not mind showing what he likes about you, touching you, holding hands and lacing your fingers together everywhere, staring at you across the room and quirking up an eyebrow in a teasing way (just to see if you react or not).
in a relationship, I feel like percy has no shame in trying to make you flustered, in the same way he does not mind showing you how he likes it.
grabbing your waist when you stand and talk to someone, butting in when you dance with someone other than him, trying to tease you and flirt with you across the room - knowing damn well people are enjoying the show.
He loves to see how you react when he touches your delicate spots, the small of your back, your spine, thigh, inner wrists, anything that has soft skin he is willing to simply graze it with his long fingers - and pull back when you look at him.
other times he just full on stares at you in challenge, like he knows you cant resist the simple touches.
you might ask,
what are you doing?
but he will always give the same answer or some type off variant,
what do you think i'm doing?
by the way, he definetly know you like it when he talks in a husky and deep way. his voice already got deep during puberty, but he really takes it to another level.
he likes to watch you with hooded eyes when he lets out a deep chuckle, he knows you like the vibration coming from his throat.
he knows you like his warmth, and has no issues pressing close to you, even while standing. imagine youre just standing somewhere, and he suddenly comes and bumps his chest close to your body, and keeps it there. he doesnt grind or do anything but he just likes pressing himself close to you.
he wants to know the way you like it.
he likes it when you kiss his neck instead of his lips. or when you check him out from afar, but when he gets close you get shy
ugghhh bedroom eyes pleeeassee stop it percy. he knows a nice blush will form on your face or he has at least memorized what you do, what type of facial expressions you make when you're flustered. this man knows you from the inside out. understands your likes and dislikes and makes it his whole entire personality.
he gets reminded of you whenever he is with someone, wether its someones laugh or anything romantic really. his mind doozes off and he starts to think about you, your lips and your voice, your body underneath him--
he quickly pulls himself away from such thoughts, gets embarassed. but if you are dating, he's bound to think about something at least.
using his powers to make you feel good, forcing the water to give you a nice massage
whenever he watches you use your powers he gets somewhat turned on when you're being intimidating.
i dont want to be stereotypical, but if you do wear dark-coloured clothes and have piercings, dyed hair he just likes the fact that you stick out. but if he likes you, then you are the center of his universe.
things would start out slow between you two,
kisses and flirting->following each other around->
to suddenly backing each other against the wall or any surface
teasing both by pushing your limits, he likes to tilt his head to the side and watch you with his eyes while you try to keep a poker-face.
too bad, percy has mastered the art of poker-faced (refrence to kane chronicles and percy jackson crossover), he can go all day (and yes i mean that in both ways-or all ways)
but he's hesitant to go further with you, so initiate it.
istg, imagine him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his beautiful face - while you get changed slowly on purpose (he knows but he's enjoying the show), and just cast a glance over your shoulder and hes locked it, he will only focus his gaze on you. even if people call his name from outside his cabin, he wont turn his back. he takes in every feature, every movement,...
sheesh his toned abdomen. he didn't think it did anything to you at first, but he noticed how you would watch his shirt roll up whenever he leaned back or how your gaze would flicker to his biceps - so he started to wear his sweatpants low, like really low just to see your reaction. even if you dont make a big deal out of it, he knows you're screaming inside.
in percy's mind, theres something about knowing that someone desires you that makes him give that in return to you. like if he knows you want him, his desires for you grows twice as strong. knowing someone wants him, every part of him, that is enough to spark arousal in this guy.
do anything and he is watching. you are special to him, his one and only. and as the poets say, you are his other half.
touchign and playing with your hair, expose some of your neck, or just watch him with casual eyes and he just gives you a knowing-smirk. he knows when you want it and when you're up for it.
i feel like hes the type of guy to get turned on when you get turned on, your reactions are important to him. you moan, he moans. its as simple as that.
if you like to change up your style every now and then hes transfixed by the way you're casual one day and suddenly glamorous, or when you dress with clothes that most wouldnt wear or when you dress according to a group like the punks, goths or tomboys - hes just fascinated by you.
licks his lips and watched your lips when you talk. you dont even need to be talking to you. hes just memorizing your features. and when hes done with that he chooses the he likes the most.
ogle ogle ogle
quit staring
is a coming saying from you. you're met with the same response,
*quirks eyebrow and doesnt say anything, poker-faced*
sometimes you're met with a smirk.
sheesh. i feel like when he gets flustered he doesnt want to stop staring at you but he does anyway because he wants to try to hide it. lowering his head, looking away quickly and looking down -> smiling at himself for such a reaction but also silently complimenting you for making him react in such a way. everyday is exciting, he wants more. i guess this guy likes the adrenalin, perhaps is reminds him of the curse of achillies in a way?
sing a song and dance around or lip sync. i feel like he sometimes manspreads guys, like i know its annoying when you're sitting next to someone, but he means no harm. besides, usually on the subway he stands even if theres an empty seat.
but when he is sitting he spreads and leans back and watches you. sometimes he comes forward and rests his forearms on his knees to get a better view. if someone gets in the view ex. stands in front of him or blocks the view, he clicks his tongue and tries to look around. if a guy starts talking to you or dances with you theres a minuscule feeling of bitter hate in his chest that runs pretty hot and deep in his veins, luckily he doesnt make a scene but just sits there irritated. wipe that frown off his face plz.
has developed a habit of touching his hair and scratching his neck because of you. he starting doing does habits becuase he wants to seem cool and look good, but also because he gets nervous
he naturally smells like sea-water, but started to wear a musky, deep, hollow scent as his cologne so that when he puts his jacket around you - you can smell him and smell like him the rest of the day/night.
likes it when you lay in his bed so he remembers how you smell, its comforting - but not always good if it keeps him up at night
not a very innapropriate or suggestive person but gives his friends "the look" when you're being sexy on purpose. not to make fun of you or undermine you, but because he needs to make sure everyone is also getting this, phew.
like i said, he likes your scent - but secretly lays down in your bed (even if you're in the top bunk hes going to climb up there shamelessly) so that it smells like you and hopes it keeps you awake at night too.
if you try to tease him for staring or try to stare back at him he maintains eye contact and sometimes blurts out:
pretty
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i-cant-sing · 5 months
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Just thinking about Yandere Todoroki clan and reader's random moments.
Reader coming home after a particularly bad day, but poor girl cant even cry or complain without everyone immediately overreacting and pulling you out of school/college or even keeping you from going out at all. So now, reader has to either cry in self pity before she enters her home, wipe her tears and fix herself just enough to show that she hadnt just bawled her eyes out moments ago. That, or do the more risky thing and go home, go to your room and cry under the covers, but then theres always the chance of Rei or the others walking in on you any moment.
Also thinking about baby/toddler reader being sick, just a common cold or flu, nothing major. But with reader whining and being so young, the family's infantalisation goes through the roof and theyd treat you as if you were immunocompromised. I wont lie, but I think Rei is almost kinda... glad when you get sick? She enjoys you being dependant on her for the most things, even when you grow up and are able to handle a cold, she still deludes herself into thinking that you need mommy to come and help you.
I think the one person who is most affected by reader getting sick, no matter what age, is Enji. The man just cant help but view you as a fragile, starving Victorian child the moment you fall ill. In his eyes, even a harsh blow of air is too much for a fragile thing like you, let alone something as bad as the flu. He just- he's holding toddler reader in his arms, who snuggles into his warm body, your tiny nose pink and he cant get the image of you crying and vomiting and being oh so feverish- thats just way too much for your small body. Oh how he almost cried when he took you to the doctor for a shot and you clung to him, trying to bury yourself into him as you begged him to make you feel better, cried to him that you didnt want to get the "big scary needle!" He just had to hold you there in his firm grip as you writhed, had to look away when you looked at him and he saw the feeling of betrayal in your eyes, had to keep himself from not strangling the fucking doctor for not being careful, had to walk out of the clinic and hand you to Rei because he couldnt hear you cry anymore, had to have Rei console both you and Enji (assuring him that "no, Enji. Y/n doesnt resent you for making her get a shot.") and he couldnt even sleep a wink that night because he was standing by your bed, holding your tiny hand with his pinky as a tear finally slipped out of his eye.
ALSO thinking about adult reader going out of the house to meet up with friends, except shes meeting up with them at a club instead of at their house like she told Enji and Rei, and now shes standing outside, abandoned by said friends, and shes now running because a group of pervy men are chasing her and she doesnt know who to call, so she just speed dials Shotou, except someone just changed all your speed dials to one number, and you think youre doomed when Shotou doesnt say a word to you and just hangs up when within minutes, someone comes in front of you-
"Dabi?" He tells you to cover your ears and look away, and you know well by know what that means, so you obey, feeling a bit regretful as those men begin to scream in agony. You dont know how long its been until Dabi pulls your hands away and examines your wounds. He lets you crash into his chest as you sob, and this time, Dabi simply decides to take you home quietly without a lecture.
Hmmm, also thinking about Natsuo who is usually cool as a cucumber, the most normal being in the family, except for his very rare episodes of unbridled rage where he suddenly becomes the Hulk. Good thing for you is that this anger is never directed towards you, rather towards people who actively threaten your life (except Rei cause she gets to play "Im your mom who became mentally unstable because of your abusive dad") The only time NAtsuo is stern with you is when it comes to your health. He's just looking at you with those strict eyes when you refuse to take your multivitamins, or dont want to get a flu shot, or try to make up an excuse so that he cant check your vitals. And when he just grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit down so that he can do his checkup, its in those moments that you realise just how strong your brother is... and how easy it may be for him to overpower you and sedate you if he ever followed through Rei's threats.
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balancethescales · 10 months
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thinking about the specific moments where the berzatto family falls in love with sydney (because of course they do, everyone does).
for richie, it takes the end of the beef and right up till the opening of the bear to happen. he is full of contempt and grief when he meets her and all he knows is that when he looks at her face he is afraid. he doesn’t like that feeling. richie is not a man who finds himself fearful a lot, but she is everything he is not and nothing that he is and he hates himself for it. if she is what it means to be passionate, then what is he? is he nothing but an empty shell of mikey, stuck on earth to shake his fist at passing clouds, because how dare they move and continue on like mikey was nothing to them, as if he wasn’t the very point that the earth revolved around? everyone is leaving him behind, and she is proudly leading the pack. it’s not right. but then— he gets it. he talks to garrett and jess and chef terry and he sees sydney in every corner of that restaurant. the fear slowly is replaced with respect as the week goes on and he realizes that just because she’s good doesn’t mean she’s out to get him. that’s the berzatto upbringing in him doing the talking, but it doesn’t have to, because shes a berzatto now, maybe not officially (not yet, but mark his words, she will be) but she is, and that’s not how she does things. so, he lets her lead them into the future to something good and different and better.
for sugar, it’s instant. she was born to a mother who is triggered by her very existence, and it has hurt her all her life. she is full of love and the one person she wants to give it to the most doesn’t want any part of it. she was born to give but is surrounded by those who are afraid to even take it, to reach out their hand and meet her in the middle. and if they cant take then they themselves have nothing to give, so she gets used to being the one who has to force feed her love down their throats, because if no one does, if no one shows them that they are worthy of good things, then they will crumble (“if i just talked to him more—” “no, nat—” “if i had just—” “it’s not your fault, honey. it’s never been.”). but when she meets sydney, it’s like looking into a mirror. she sees her bright eyes and soft smiles and careful but strong hands and instantly recognizes her for what she is: a giver. and sugars heart swells with even more love than she thought possible, because finally, she’s not alone— there is someone else there to slowly, albeit subconsciously, take care of her crumbling family, to show them that despite what their mother may have taught them, its okay to not be okay (she tries her best not to cry when syd asks her if shes okay, but she does. and syd doesnt grab her face or yell at her or call her stupid. she makes her a meal. and sugar cries some more).
for cicero, the love isn’t instant, and it’s not even entirely love. she is strong and she is assertive, but that also makes her naive and a very expensive risk. she makes him curious for what’s to come, intrigued by the way she doesn’t back down from carmy whose voice so often mimics the berzattos that came before him (“you’re better than this, kid.” “i don’t know what i am.” “whatever it is, it’s not this.”). she's self assured and knows her place in the establishment and is unafraid to let people know it. it’s a refreshing change of pace from mikey, who often resorted to intimidation to get his way, or carmy, who’s anxiety envelopes him and distracts him from what’s right there in front of him. but she is not them. she is focused and on track and is willing to put in the work to get what she wants. he doesn’t visit the bear often, only drops by once in a while to deliver bad news or to fulfill a favour or to just enjoy some good food, but when he does, she is always there, dedicated to ensuring that carmy and michaels, and now, her dream stays alive. she is good for his family, and he trusts her to keep the berzatto spirit alive.
for michelle, it’s quite simple. she always looked out for carmy, their little bear, so when she meets her it’s a family thanksgiving party at the bear and syd stumbles out of the kitchen, obviously frazzled and a little sweaty (“carmy, im not ready, i didn’t even change yet and the turk—” “don’t worry, tina will take care of it, you look great, they’ll love you, they just really wanted to meet you—”), but she’s smiling. she’s a little awkward when she introduces herself, and michelle finds herself endeared by her nervous ramble (“it’s, uh, really nice to meet you guys. sorry, i didn’t know that i was going to be pulled out of the kitchen so soon. uh, im sydney. yeah, i guess carmy already told you guys, huh? um. im sorry, how are you related to the family again? i mean, i dont want to offend but it’s just. uh. well, you guys are just very... normal?”) and she’ll laugh and look at stanley and the two of them will think to themselves, good job carmy, she’s a good one, before telling syd something dumb and nonsensical about a genetic mutation and richie interrupts to tell michelle it’s not a genetic mutation it’s called being boring and syd will laugh and michelle will too, truly happy that their little bear found someone normal, a breath of fresh air within the smoke of their family.
for donna, it’s weird. it’s tense. they don’t meet for a long time. they don’t meet at the bear when it first opens and not at the bear even when it has found it’s footing, but by chance. they are somewhere mundane (a grocery store, a park, or maybe just the street) and there is no other family member around when syd meets the berzatto matriarch. she only knows what donna looks like from photos at sugars house because carmys apartment is devoid of any actual sentiment (although that has begun to change since she made him get an actual dresser and he dedicated one of the drawers to her stuff). she calls out to her by her name, and donna turns around startled. she doesn’t recognize syd, of course, who introduces herself and informs her of who she is to the family. when donna smiles it’s not a real one, and syd knows this, but it doesn’t deter her. she tells donna that her kids love her (“even after everything, nat?” “she’s our mother. its all that we can do.��) and that her kids are great (“carmy, you are not broken.” “im a little broken.” “no, listen to me, the fact that you are still here, means something. its something.”) and that there will always be a table for her at the bear (“chef, someones calling in for a reso for 1 but we’re all full up… except for—“ “yo, dont finish that sentence. table 7 for ms. berzatto is an indefinite booking. is that understood?” “yes, chef”). donnas smile fades and her chest fills with anger but just as she’s about to explode in typical berzatto fashion syd interrupts her. she has faced the bear many a time before and has handled herself with grace and dignity everytime, so this is no different. she smiles brightly and thanks donna for listening to her and hopes she considers coming in, because she’d really like to cook for her. she looks like she needs a good meal. she deserves one. she turns and walks away. donnas stomach growls. that night, table 7 is occupied for the first time since the bear opened its doors.
and carmy? well, there isn’t an exact moment. its a culmination of awkward partnership (“i don’t want to be shitty.” “okay, then dont be.”) and flawless teamwork (“the menu needs—” “already on it, chef.”) and nights unwinding at the bar down the street (“of course you drink an old fashioned.” “what’s that supposed to mean?” “nothing, it’s just very… tortured-chef-from-the-slums-of-chicago of you”) and spontaneous phone calls just to hear the others voice (“why are you whispering?” “i… don’t know. my dads home. its a habit.” “you’re 27.” “and you’re white, you wouldn’t get it.”) till they’re just inseparable (“cousin, wheres carmy?” “with syd, duh.” “why'd i even ask?”). and then, sydney and carmen become something else. something tender and sweet and terrifying and beautiful all mixed together into… something. there’s no word for what they have. but it feels so right; to the guests who taste their food and recognize that the hands who put it together are full of love and care; to the staff at the bear who see the unspoken communication, the lingering touches, and their soft eyes that seem to always be on the other; to the berzatto family who notice that carmy looks a little brighter, and shakes a little less. yes, its love, but its so much more. it’s syd and carmy. it always has been, and always will be.
(“can i ask you something? something corny and lame and gross?” “always.” “when did you, like, know?” “know what?” “like, when did you know that you loved me? like, not as a chef or a friend, but as... y'know.” “that’s very middle school of you to ask.” “shut up, i did warn you.” “…” “so?” “its, uh, i don’t, i don’t know.” “well, that’s rude.” “no, i mean, i can’t say its one moment because... it was all of them. together. like, one moment you’re staging and then everything happened and, and, keeps happening but the next thing i knew you were there and you always were there and i just knew that i never wanted you to not be there.” “that’s…. really, really, disgusting, and frankly, a little unprofessional.” “oh, fuck off.” “no, like, i knew you were obsessed with me, but wow, that is a whole new other level.” “fuck you, get off of me, don’t touch me.” “no no no, please—” “i let you into my family—” “let me?” “into my restaurant—” “i think you mean OUR restaurant—” “only for you to humiliate me in my own bed? how dare you.” “…are you sulking?” “…” “…carmy?” “syd?” “me too.” “…heard, chef. now come back here.”)
(and it’s unspoken, but everyone knows that michael would’ve loved her too. i mean, she’s sydney fucking adamu, she conquered the bear. how could anyone not love her?)
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mrswint3rs · 24 days
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“If I gotta sin to see her again then I’m gonna lie.”
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pairings - dad’s boss krauser x fem! reader
summary- you end up on your knees for the stranger you allowed into your house while your father was away, not knowing he was your fathers boss.
content / warnings: unrealistically fast paced (cant help it), 99% smut, age gap (r! is in her 20’s, Krauser is in his 40’s), krauser is a major douche (at least in the beginning), quick bj, gagging, head shoving, mentions of power play, implied that reader is inexperienced, heavy d/s dynamics, mentions of sending nudes, lots of sneaking around & secret relationship, brief pussy tasting (??), use of sir, rough & unprotected sex, forced creampie, praise and degradation, random cut off because i was about to have another 2 week long meltdown and just want to be done !! (seriously sorry)
wc. 2.1k
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a/n- title from rev 22:20 (don’t shoot the messenger version) by puscifer. sorry for taking forever!! my mental wellbeing has not been.. well. if this is shit, pretend its not :3 wanted to make it long but i feel like i shouldn’t have 😭 feedback PLZZZ… can’t tell if im getting better or worse atp.
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The moment that front door swung open and you laid your eyes upon the man, everything in you changed. A gruff face greeted you, devoid of any readable emotion. He was honestly scary as shit at first. Had those cold eyes that looked like they’d seen everything. You just froze in the doorway staring, not bothering to be subtle with your ogling. He had a presence about him that demanded every ounce of your attention.
“Your dad home?” he eventually questions after the clearing of his throat. “Assuming you’re the brat he’s always braggin’ about.” Right. Your father. Of course he was here for your father.
The words you try to form almost die in your throat. “He’s uhm…at the store right now but you can come back later or something… Might be a while.” you stammer out. But the man simply brushes past you, welcoming himself to your home.
“No. I’ll wait here.”
He sinks into the couch, propping his shoes up on the table. Not a care in the world. Snatched up the remote and switched it off the channel you were watching prior to his visit.
Who the hell was this entitled motherfucker? And why was he so adamant on staying?
“No shoes in the house,” you reply meekly. He doesn’t budge. Just looks at you with that deadpan expression again as if you pissed him off greatly. Makes your stomach churn.
“Take em’ off for me then.”
Silence fills the room. The audacity of this asshole to reply to you like that. He looks down at you expectedly. The corner of his mouth twitching upward into a half-smirk. There was a certain smugness to him that angered you to your core. For some reason turned you on.
But you weren’t one to say no to people. Too afraid of angering them. Especially since you didn’t know his importance to your father. Maybe he got mixed up in some bad shit. This dude didn’t seem like the type to be buddy buddy with anyone, let alone your dad.
Hesitant, you kneel down, taking the time to unlace his boot. He raises an eyebrow, amused by the fact that you didn’t even question.
He enjoys a little power play, especially with an obedient thing like you. He could easily get addicted to it. You had that cowering look that he so craved. That look made him want to break you.
Your hands shake, fumbling to untie the second knot. “Good girl.” He coos. Your cheeks burn hot with humiliation and something else entirely. Something that’s a little too appealing.
He was a man of few words, but when he did speak, you damn near hung on every syllable. His eyes are narrowed into slits, studying you with great interest. He takes in every little detail, watching your every move intently as if you were giving him a private show. The pressure of his gaze makes you forget what you’re doing. You knew you didn’t have to listen to him, but you were. And you’d do whatever he told you to.
Which is what led to the ache in your knees and jaw. Before that day, you’d never experienced one of those ‘it just happened’ scenarios. Sexual acts didn’t ‘just happen’. They were planned, thought out. Not true at all it seemed. You weren’t thinking at all, couldn’t even remember what led you to gagging up and down on this strangers cock. It just happened. First blowjob and it was for this random douche who barged into your house.
A hand grips the back of your head, guiding you, forcing you to take him deeper. “Use your tongue, doll. Like I told you.” he grunts, shoving you back down again. You try. Failing miserably to lick along his length. Your throat constricts around him and he doesn’t cut you any slack, using it as his personal flesh-light.
“Keep suckin’ i’m not through with you.” You’re a drooling, crying mess. Just what he adores. “Make me cum.” he loosens his grip, letting you finish up on your own. But the second you try to come up to catch your breath, he shoves you back down. “Not done til’ i’m done, understand?”
Attempting to nod your head, you resume bobbing up and down on his length. Trying to ignore the cramp in your neck. You wanted it to end quickly. Not because your father was expected to arrive home soon. But because you wanted the man to tell you that you did good for him.
Focusing more on the head of his cock, your hand grips and twists along the rest, using your spit as lube. You weren’t at all confident in your abilities, but it seemed to work magic on him.
Without warning, he releases his sticky white ropes of cum into your mouth, cock twitchy and red. “Swallow for me. Lemme see… open that pretty little mouth.”
His hand cups your jaw, beefy fingers prying your lips apart to make sure you did as you were ordered. A look of satisfaction crosses his face and he lets you go. “Good girl. Now run along and get yourself cleaned up.”
Only then were you able to ground yourself. What a mess you were. Hair disheveled and face soaked in a combination of tears and drying slobber, a pool of need between your thighs.
He works to refasten his belt after pulling his pants back up. So casual like that didn’t happen. Like he does this all the time.
And you still didn’t even know his name. Didn’t know how he knew yours. Not until your dad got back from the store, multiple bags of groceries in hand. When he sees the man, he both lights up and dims down.
“Krauser… Hope my daughter was good company? Sorry for the wait.”
“Sure was,” he replies simply and a feeling of dread washes over you and you fight the urge to run and hole yourself up in your room as soon as possible.
Krauser. You’d heard that name before. Many times. That same name your father cursed when he got home from work every day. Krauser. Your father’s boss.
You told yourself that’d be the last time you’d see him. That what happened would never again be brought up and you’d forget it ever happened.
Safe to say it was only the start.
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The first time was difficult. Your thumb hovered over that send button for at least twenty minutes before you finally just said fuck it and sent it. Had you burying your face into your pillow, heart racing like you were on the verge of a heart attack. Not like you sucked his dick just two weeks ago or anything. Somehow this was more nerve racking.
Quickly you learned, bra and panty pics earned you bulge pics. Tit pics earned you full dick pics. And moaning into the phone for him?
That earned a visit.
“Open your window for me.” he texts, and you hurry to do so. You pace around in circles, wondering if he’s just screwing around. Why would a grown ass man go through these hoops?
Seems he was as desperate for you as you were for him.
The second he climbs through, you open your mouth to speak and his hand clasps over it, burly arm pushing you against the wall. His eyes stare daggers into your widened ones as if trying to shrink you down in size.
“Quietly, and quickly, you’re gonna get on that bed and undress for me.” he removes his hand, backing off to undo his belt.
No time to spare it seems. As soon as your clothes are off, he’s on you. In an instant, your wrists are pinned above your head, thighs pulled apart revealing the pooling mess between them. His cock lays heavy against your stomach as he drinks you in, an almost crazed look etched onto his face.
He rubs his length through your folds, getting a feel of your warmth and he has to fight back his groans. He smacks it against your clit, watching as your face contorts. Looks real pretty to him, but he’d never grant you the privilege of hearing that.
The head of his cock probes at your entrance, teasing its way in and making you clench around nothing when it’s removed. “Don’t tell me, you’re a virgin?” he cocks a brow.
“No..n-no, sir. I’m not.”
“Good. Don’t need to worry about going easy on ya’..”
Without warning, he fills you all the way, drawing out a whine from your lips. He starts to roll his hips, slowly at first, before picking up pace, skin slapping loudly against yours. You cry out, in pain or ecstasy? He can’t tell. Just knows it’s a danger to be this noisy and he wasn’t going to sacrifice his pleasure simply because you couldn’t take him. Again, his hand clasps over your mouth, muffling your sweet cries as he continues to roughly rut into you.
“Wanna get caught, hm?” he asks, shooting a warning glare down at you. You rapidly shake your head no, blinking back the tears that sting your eyes. “Then be a good girl, and keep your fucking mouth shut.”
Hypocrite. He’s groaning and grunting up a storm, getting lost in the feeling of being inside you. You can tell by the way his face scrunches up all ugly that he’s already close. Every thrust, your headboard hits the wall. The wall separating your room from your father’s.
Krauser feels himself nearing his end, beginning to pull out. But you wrap your legs around his waist, trapping him inside. He has no strength left, his warm, white ropes spurt into you, seemingly having no end. Your walls contract around him, completely milking him for all he has.
His breaths come out, hot and husky against your sweat glistening skin. And he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“You on birth control?” he mumbles out, trying to bring himself back to reality. When you confirm, he lets out a heavy sigh of relief and is able to relax his heart rate a bit.
That is, until you both hear the sound of the floor creaking outside of your bedroom in the hallway.
He’s quick to pull his pants back up, and take his leave. But he stops a moment, leaning down to whisper into the shell of your ear. “I’ll text you. I’ll get us a reservation soon.” His lips press to the side of your cheek, lingering a second or two before he rushes out.
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Less than 24 hours after, and you receive a phone call, informing you of where to meet him. You feel a but guilty, knowing he’s given your father more hours just so you can get away with this while he’s away at work. But this isn’t something you’d give up easily.
You beat him there, first to get the keys to the room reserved for two. It’s a pretty decent place, not the type you see in those movies where they’re having an affair. Krauser was head of a corporation, after all. Of course he was loaded.
The key twists along with the doorknob and you let yourself into the room. Spacious for only one bed. Almost the size of a studio apartment. Well, not quite that big. But still impressive.
You flop down on the bed, taking your shoes, socks and everything else off. You were ready this time. You lie naked on the bed, confident in waiting for him.
The knob twists again, and your confidence is instantly revoked, replaced with that nervous feeling once more. You shame yourself for it, but that’s what he liked about you anyway.
“I’m off for the rest of the day, sweetheart.” his hands work at unlooping the tie around his neck as he makes his way toward the bed in the middle of the room. He sees you waiting, and the blood immediately rushes down south. His pants start to feel a tad too tight. Suffocatingly tight.
Something about you simply made him weak. He couldn’t control himself, and nor could you. You could see the hunger in his eyes. The way he looked at you was like a starved wolf, about to trap its prey between its teeth.
“Waitin’ long?” he grins, removing the rest of his restraints. “I promise, I’ll make sure it’s worth all the trouble.”
His hands pry your legs apart, and his face lowers to your cunt. His nose nudges your clit, his tongue teasing your opening. “So wet already… been thinking about me?”
189 notes · View notes
tofuxtea · 27 days
Text
𝟏:𝟏𝟗 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — jack delroy x fem!reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — nsfw, p in v sex, reader helps jack ‘relax’, slight coercion/convincing, unprotected sex, on a counter/table ? LMAO, rough sex lowk, cant think of any other tags, except its not proofread!
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — this takes place right before the halloween special lol, def might be ooc jack but idgaf!! this took me two days to write i lowkey forgot how to write smut ?? discovered i was a lesbian and forgot how het sex worked my bad yall! anyways enjoy cuz i have yet to see a fic about this man.
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the studio was buzzing with excitement when you arrived. crew members blew by you from every direction, barking orders and carrying pieces of halloween decorations that would be strewn around the night owls’ set within the next hour. tonight was the halloween special that was expected to bring jack’s show to the top, and he’d said he wanted you there to see it.
you’d only been there a couple of times — jack advising against you visiting him too often in case people started suspecting things about your relationship.
it was his first since madeleine had passed a year ago, and he wasn’t quite ready to go public yet. especially if it meant it would hurt any chances of the show not beating johnny carson’s tonight show.
afterwards would be your time, he promised you.
you hugged your coat closer to your body as you tried to navigate the set yourself, skimming over the panels beside every door until a familiar face came into view. you sighed, instinctively grinning when you spotted leo fiske, the show’s producer.
his stress-lined face shifted the moment he saw you, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. “how are ya, sweetheart?”
behind his sunglasses, he looked you up and down and hummed softly. you flashed him a tight grin and pulled your coat shut. he was charming, sure, but sometimes he was more direct than you liked. something told you that he knew about you and jack, and probably threatened the latter with it, but if he did he hid it well.
“i’m alright,” you kept the atmosphere light with a laugh, “where’s jack?”
the mention of his name made the man roll his eyes and scoff. “jackass has been locked up in his dressing room for the past half hour.” you pouted, realizing how much pressure he must be feeling. “end of the hallway to the right. i’ll slide you a fifty if you can untwist his panties, alright?” leo joked, gently patting your shoulder before brushing past you. you watched him go for a second, watching him beckon a female crew member over for something.
you hurried down the hallway to the door leo had directed you to, relieved when you saw jack’s name next to the door. knocking gently, you waited for him to call you in. “jack?” you called out when he didn’t reply.
boldly, you cracked open the door and stuck your head inside, finding jack sitting at his makeup vanity while an artist stood poised at his side, patting powder onto his forehead.
she startled when she heard your entrance, and flashed you a curt smile before returning to jack. he noticed you only when the woman had paused for too long and gestured you inside.
“give us a moment, will you?” he murmured to the makeup artist, who nodded and left the room.
you waited until the door was shut and her footsteps had gone quiet before sliding your arms around jack’s shoulders from behind. “how’re things going?” you asked with a coy grin, pecking him on the cheek.
he groaned when he saw a faint mark from your lipstick and realized he’d have to get another touch up later. “as great as they could be.” he replied rather bitterly, making your smile falter slightly. you gave him a curious look in the mirror, and that was his breaking point. his head lulled into his palm, paying no mind to how his fingers ruffled his gelled hair. “i swear to god, fiske thinks i can’t fuckin’ do it. he doesn’t think i can pull it off tonight.”
you hovered beside him for a second, unsure of how to console him. “what do you mean? tonight’s been all the talk for a week now, it’s gonna do great, baby.” you tried to reassure him, gently shaking him by his shoulders in his seat.
this seemed to ease his nerves just a little and he sighed, sliding a hand up to grab your hand. he found your eyes in the mirror and smiled for the first time that night, then looked down at your outfit.
you’d picked his favorite red dress, pairing it with the little devil-horn headband tucked away in your purse. it was shorter than you liked it to be, often having to tug the glittery fabric back down the curve of your hips, but jack loved when you wore it. tonight was a special occasion, so you figured he’d appreciate it.
“i just don’t know what i’m gonna do. what if he’s right?” jack continued to ramble. “you know, he keeps tellin’ me christou’s gig isn’t gonna gain enough traction to get us up. gus was tellin’ me that he’s called an act in last minute and he hasn’t run it by me yet — i swear to god, if it’s that jackass carmichael—” he huffed and stopped when he realized he was getting too worked up.
he hadn’t realized you had peeled yourself off of him and was tossing your coat onto the couch beside him. “hand me a smoke, won’t ya sweetheart?” he pointed loosely to your purse, knowing you were carrying some.
you two smoked the same brand, so he often stole yours. you didn’t mind.
you handed him a cigarette and he leaned in for a light. he sunk back into his chair as he blew out a puff of smoke, the tension steadily chipping away.
“baby, you need to relax, alright?” you cooed softly, stealing a quick drag of his cigarette. “you’re gonna do great. you always do.” your lithe fingers gently rubbed at his shoulders, smiling as his eyes fluttered shut and he melted under your hands.
“c’mere.” he grabbed your wrist and tugged you around his chair, steadying you with his hands on your hips before him. his eyes raked down your body and he sucked in a sharp breath. “relax, huh?” jack’s voice was low now, deeper. it made your breath hitch in your throat.
“jack, i…” your eyes flickered over to the unlocked door and you took a step back. your ass bumped into the edge of his vanity. a startled cry escaped you. “you’re on soon.” you whispered with an uneasy grin. although, he wasn’t live for another hour or so.
as much as your stomach fluttered at the look in his eyes, you feared the embarrassment if someone were to walk in on you two. especially if you weren’t public yet.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” jack groaned, chasing you out of his seat. his hands caged you in against the vanity, one reaching out to smash his cigarette out into the ashtray beside you, and his body pushed against yours. he practically forced you on top of the counter, a few bottles and trinkets toppling over in your little scramble. jack took the chance to nudge his knee in between your legs, humming with satisfaction at the small whine you tried and failed to keep inside.
you ducked your head shyly, but he moved with you, coaxing you into looking up. when he had you, he could tell there was no going back. your lips parted as you glanced down at his.
“that’s it.” he whispered with a gentle smirk before he kissed you. you sighed into it, feeling his urgency as his tongue slipped past your teeth. your fingers wrapped tightly around his biceps, your legs threatening to give out underneath you.
they instinctively parted when you felt the tip of jack’s finger trail up the top of your thigh. your skin dimpled with goosebumps and you shivered. he had such a feathery touch until he reached the hem of your dress, stealing a quick glance at how it bunched up at the fat of your hips and revealed your red panties.
then his hand dipped in between your thighs, his fingers prodding at your clothed cunt. you whined, a little too loudly, and jack flashed you a warning look.
“can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” he whispered. you hardly had the mind to nod, let alone comprehend what he was saying. your mind was fucking spinning trying to get a grip, and it didn’t help that jack’s middle finger was lazily circling your clit over your panties. “what’s that?” he taunted, chin lowering with expectancy.
“mhm, yes, yes i can,” you eagerly nodded, words stringing together in a barely coherent murmur.
“good girl.” jack groaned. he slipped his hand into the waistband of your panties, a smirk dancing on his lips when he felt how wet you were. “you wanted this, huh?”
you hadn’t entirely realized that he was talking to you, too busy working your hips against his heavy fingers. your body felt like it was on fire. you desperately pleaded for him to hurry up, for both of your sakes.
he looked down at your clumsy fingers as they tried to unbuckle his belt, but it was like it was welded around his waist. frenzied whimpers filled the room until jack finally helped you, almost taking pity on your incoherency. while he worked at the zipper on his trousers, you quickly slid your panties down your hips and around at least one foot. the thin lace dangled from the toe of your heel when jack captured you in another fervent kiss.
you feel the tip of his cock catch just below your clit and your breath caught in your throat. one of his hands slid to the small of your back, pulling you to the very edge of the counter. your legs widened for him, waiting.
he granted you relief, easing himself into your tight cunt. he groaned into your neck, stilling so he didn’t cum on the spot. “god, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” his voice shook.
he went until his hips were flush with yours, watching how your face contorted with pure ecstasy. your lips parted in a high cry and your eyes squeezed shut, and your head lulled back. jack stole the opportunity to latch onto your neck, adorning your skin with kisses and licks. you pulled him closer with your arms around his neck.
“shit, jack,” your fingers raked through his hair, neither of you caring about how pissed hair and makeup were going to be with him. long, dark strands fell over his forehead and tickled your skin. “jack.”
he loved how his name sounded in your mouth. how he always managed to get you like this, though for some reason it was quicker than usual that your face flushed and your eyelids drooped with arousal. it stirs something deep in his stomach and he slams into you, setting an unrelenting pace. he didn’t care that it rocked the vanity mirror back into the wall with a hollow thud.
your thighs hug his waist and your ankles meet behind him, silently pleading for more. “greedy little girl, aren’t you?” he whispers with half a grin. he draws a strained cry from you with each deep thrust, your cunt clenching in fluttering pulses around him.
“fuck,” he hissed, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knows you wouldn’t either. your cries were growing louder and louder and more frequent. the mirror kept tapping against the wall and things kept rolling off of the counter and onto the floor. tears gathered in your eyes, painting your eyelashes each time your eyes squeezed shut. though each time you did, jack would remind you to look at him. he gently shushed you at first, then used his mouth when you weren’t listening.
your back arched into his chest as you came with a cry of his name, jack murmuring into your ear, “good girl, that’s it.” your body seemed to melt in his arms, going near slack as you came down from the high he was fucking you through.
it was only a few more thrusts until he came, barely managing to pull out before painting the insides of your thighs. he knew you would be pissed that it got on your dress once you realized, but he didn’t care.
after a minute of blissful silence, jack checked his watch. “shit, fiske’s probably lookin’ for me.” he rolled his eyes as he buckled his belt, praying to god that his beige pants were relatively stain-free.
if push came to shove, he’d tell him that he spilled his drink in his lap. he gave you room to get to your feet, watching with quiet pride as your knees wobbled pretty noticeably.
you tugged your dress down your hips, absently searching for a tissue box. a smile crossed your lips when you looked up and you lifted yourself onto your tip-toes to press a kiss to his lips.
“knock ‘em dead, baby.”
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lowkey surrounded this smut based on the “secret relationship” trope and the last line. lowkey ass and rushed but enjoy!
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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
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Is it possible to do head cannons for digital circus characters with a reader who's too nice for their own good
Like they get in danger when trying to talk to the bad guy npc thinking that they could persuade them to the good side
TADC cast x reader whos too nice!
Anon I'm so so sorry that it took me so long to get to this <\3! I gotta admit I've been in like, a bit of a burn out recently and I'm still recovering from my baking spree last week so I'm WOOOooOoooooO
That said I hope you enjoy!
Written ambiguously, if you want to see this as romantic or platonic, is totally up to you!
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CAINE:
Literally puts a pause on the IHA when he sees you being dragged away by the big bad guy, all while still trying to insist that the NPC with no chance to gain sentience can be good.. caine finds it endearing in it's own way, its sweet, you see the best in people... and non-people... but reader, this is exactly how you get hurt..! Keeps a close eye on you during IHA
POMNI:
While I dont think pomni fits the "too nice for her own good" vibe, I feel that shes... what word am i looking for? Submissive? She kind of just goes with what others are doing; asides from her initial freak out we dont see much pushback from her in the pilot, though that could be thanks to shock... perhaps shes still feeling it during IHAs given how random and intense they can be..? Point is I think pomni would give a meek resistance before scurrying off after you, trying to save you from the clutches of the baddie
RAGATHA:
Shes loves you so much, dont get her wrong. She loves that you're so sweet to everyone, even to those who dont deserve it. Actually if anything, Ragatha is also a little too sweet for her own good.. but shes not as trusting and naive as you are. Frantically pulls you away to the side when you try to make your way to the days villain, gently scolding you and asking what you were thinking. She doesnt mean to make you feel bad, but she doesn't want to see you hurt!
JAX:
One of the only two characters that might get a little mean with you. Not like "mean as in berating you for being so naive" more so "I'm upset that you seemingly have no regard for your safety, I care about you and I cant see you continue to throw yourself into danger" way that can come off as mean, since jax isnt really.. the best as saying this softly.. immediately cuts through any "what ifs" you might bring up to him, you're the only person in this circus that he actually enjoys and hes not going to let you get flung around.. can his tone be softer? Sure, but can you blame him if this is a regular occurrence?
KINGER:
This poor man nearly has a heart attack when he sees you about to be absolutely demolished (but not really thanks to the digital world), probably ends in him getting hurt too.. but that would be mean.. but also can you imagine the angst? The guilt? He probably pushes through the pain to get to you and hes just. Feverishly pulling you to him and patting you down to make sure you're okay... he won't tell you to stop being so nice; in fact I dont think the thought crosses his mind ever.. but he does ask to never do that again, the getting into danger thing
ZOOBLE:
The other character that might get a little mean when confronting you about it, but given zoobles general attitude as well as their tone of voice, it seems like they're more angry with you than they actually are. They think you're too nice for your own good, truly. While the others may find it sweet and endearing, they're constantly thinking about how one day you'll be in over your head and wont have a way out. This might actually result in an argument, thanks to zoobles tone and way of going about things.. but you guys eventually communicate and make up, at least I would like to think so
GANGLE:
Very similar to pomni in the regard that she doesnt have the spine (haha) to tell you not to do whatever you're planning on doing. "I don't think... oh.. oh wait, reader-" as she scurries after you so you dont get lost. Gets legitimately sad and beats herself up if you get hurt. Similar to zoobles, you guys are going to need to communicate and work together on this because gangle cannot handle the fact that you're constantly getting hurt thanks to your kindness grating on her mind all day every day
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mage-propaganda · 1 year
Text
So many people miss the point of my original post and I’m tired of it so come clarification:
Yes, some guys suck. Some guys are really horrible people, who do horrible things. This isn’t news to anyone! Though it might be surprising for some to learn that there are women out there who suck, are terrible people, and do terrible things too. Neither of these things are the point!
If you’re dating a man, maybe don’t constantly shit on him for a funny little thing like ~gender~ which he can’t really control. A lot of people will make fun of and hate the old boomer mindset of “I hate my wife” jokes and then will turn around and do the exact same fucking thing to their boyfriends. It’s stupid! It’s annoying! And it’s extremely prevalent in the queer, more specifically bisexual, community (aimed at both bi men and women) to the point it can just be straight up Homophobic at times (why tf you shaming a bi man for having boyfriend instead of a wife??).
“Oh but Bees, I have trauma! I can’t help hating men and looking at the person I want as my boyfriend in utter disgust” then don’t date! Go to therapy, work on yourself! Don’t subject some poor dude to constant vitriol because you refuse to work yourself! I swear to everything good people on this app, and others, will shit on disabled people, and neurodivergent people, for being disabled and needing some extra assistance from their partners sometimes (something they often CANT help)… and then turn around and be like “but actually…my trauma means I can verbally abuse my boyfriend for being a man :/// thanks :///“.
There, now all the sorry-ass-joy-sucking motherfuckers can shut the fuck up!! Here’s clarification!! If you see happy gay couples, or a confident trans man in a healthy relationship, or something and feel the need to add a rant about your failed relationship with a dude (so they can’t be happy either) maybe pick up journaling or something! Get hobbies! Enjoy life! And maybe stop with all your bad takes!!
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teddy-yandere · 6 months
Note
Heyo, can i please request for some headcanons for Armin Arlert after the rumbling with his fem! darling (or gn if you want) ? Perhaps what life would be like for him and his fem! darling (who was also a Survey Corps soldier and a member of the Alliance alongside Armin) after they defeated Eren and stopped the rumble of the earth, where they live? .O.
- After The Rumbling -
⚠️WARNING⚠️ will contain dark themes
A / N = Sorry for any grammar mistakes, I did not proofread this. Please read my bio before requesting, and make sure that my requests are open or else your request will be deleted. Enjoy <3
«★»———- AOT Scouts Masterlist
* .:。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。. * * .:。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。. * . *.:。✧ *゚ ゚・ ✧.。. *.
★ For starters , Armin will feel like a big boulder had just been lifted off of his shoulder once the rumbling was over. A part of him couldn’t believe that he just lost one of his best friends , but at least you were still alive , and that was all that mattered to him.
★ He will never forget the warm feeling in his body when he ran up and hugged you after everything he gone down. Finally , you and him will finally be able to live a normal happy life together.
★ I feel like he will spend a lot of time comforting you the next couple of weeks. Chances are that you and Eren were friends , because of how much Armin liked you . Armin will enjoy being the person you can cry to.
★ Armin will definitely get you a house on a nice hill , where the two of you cans owns the rest of your days together. I do see it as a huge possibility that Armin will ask you to marry him no matter what. He doesn’t care what objections you have .
★ You WILL marry him. I can definitely see Armin’s yandere tendencies slowly wearing off as time goes on .
★ That main reason for his yandere tendencies to wear off if because there are not as many threats around as before.
★ That being said , not all of his yandere tendencies will go away . He still will be very controlling over you . Don’t worry about Armin hurting he will never hurt a single hair in your head. If Armin was upset at you , he will probably resolve to just manipulating you to make you see things from his point of view . Or he will start crying to make you feel bad for him. Cant you see that he is doing all this for you??!
★ I do see Armin wanting to have a family with you. He doesn’t care if you can’t have kids , he just wants to have a family of some sort ( you Cana Dior kids if ya want ) . If you don’t want kids , then he will be perfectly content in adopting a couple of pets with you !!!
★ Armin just sees himself as being a big family man !!!!!
★ Armin is definitely still a cuddle monster , even after everything has happened. He still enjoys holding your head near his chest , where he can hear your soft heartbeat beating. I don’t think Armin cares if he is a the little or big spoon , he just wants to cuddle you !!
★ He will let you visit Eren’s grave whenever you feel like you need too , but he will get slightly jealous of the attention you give towards other people .
★ Overall , Armin will become less dangerous after the rumbling , because he finally feels safe and comfortable with you
* .:。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。. * * .:。✧*゚ ゚・ ✧.。. * . *.:。✧ *゚ ゚・ ✧.。. *.
Thanks for reading , Darling !! <3
Have a nice Day / Night ~
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mari-the-bimbo · 2 years
Note
Bro, you got me OBSESSED with dormmate Sukuna (I read it all in one go)! You're so talented, god fucking dammit I love your writing!
I do have a request though but please feel free to say no if you don't like it, but I'm a thirsty bitch for some angst so could you make a dormmate Sukuna where he gets into an argument with the reader and say some mean stuff in the heat of the moment and she leaves? Like, she takes the car as leves, vanishing without saying another word and he doesn't know if she's okay or anything like that, and you can finish with some fluff idk I just had this idea while taking a shower lmao
Dorm mate Sukuna: the storm brewing
A/N: Is it even a series if I don’t randomly add angst before the confessions? 😼Thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy! <3
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“Oh boy” Yuuji sighed as he exited the dorm. He knew the storm was coming, Yuuji already heard the news about Sukuna beating up one of your male friends and as he watched you make your way over to Sukuna, he knew it was best to stay out of the incoming mess.
“- you can’t just beat people up Sukuna, all he did was talk to me”
The tatted, unbothered dorm mate shakes his head. “Everyone knows he’s a fuckboy y/n, it’s not that deep”
“No he’s not Sukuna. And he wasn’t even flirting with me! He was asking about my day because he’s my frie-“
“Aren’t you the one always complaining those college boys annoy you? Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” He asks dryly as he takes a puff of his cigarette tiredly.
“No Sukuna! I won’t thank you for beating up of friend of mine!” You snap.
Sukuna is stunned into silence. Then a crease formed in his eyebrows, why were you getting so defensive? Can you not just have some trust that he did it for a good reason and leave him alone?
But that was the problem. Sukuna himself knew there was no good reason.
Only a bad reason. The reasoning of him wanting to kill any man that looks your way lately. The reason that repressing his romantic feelings for you was starting to consume whatever pieces of sanity he had left.
“Why did you do it?”
Why did he do it? Because he doesn’t know how to process his feelings for you? It confused him, frustrated him and your insistence was only driving him more mad. He needed to be alone and figure it out. Your questions started to sound like a headache.
But he wasn’t the only one going mad. Rage filled your body as you watched your dorm mate ignore you and groan as he rubbed his head instead. It’s almost as if he saw your feelings as irrelevant. If only you knew the real reason.
“Sukuna hello???”
He squeezed his eyes shut trying to cancel out your voice, it’s the last thing he needed right now. God please just stop-
“Sukuna im asking you a question!”
“AND IM ASKING YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He roars, throwing his cigarette on the kitchen floor.
Now it was your turn to be stunned into silence.
“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING WHORE YOU KNOW THAT? I HELP DRIVE THOSE BASTARDS AWAY FROM YOU AND YOU COME BACK CRYING LIKE A BITCH NOW THAT YOU CANT GET THEIR ATTENTION ANYMORE” he screams.
Silence fell upon the room. All that could be heard is Sukuna heavy panting after his string of vile words. Vile words that he knew weren’t true.
You stare at the man in front of you. You don’t see your loving, manly dorm mate who you have feelings for, just a selfish, violent man. And suddenly you realised you didn’t want to be in a room with such a man.
Before you turned away, you saw the instant guilt in his red eyes as he watched a tear fall from your eyes, but it was too late.
“Y/n-“
“Save it”
And those were the last words Sukuna heard from you as you left the dorm without a word.
Sukuna slumped back into the chair in defeat at the sound of the door. What has he done?
Rough fingers pulled his dishevelled pink hair in frustration as his mind flashed pictures of your teary eyes.
Sure, he’s made you cry before, whether it was pulling your hair, or eating your food, but never heartbreak. Never that. He was supposed to be your hero, not the villain. He was tired of being the villain. For once he was just supposed someone’s beloved. But now he ruined that too.
He wasn’t going to look for you, he’s done enough damage already. He always knew he wasn’t good enough for you. Today he proved it.
To think all of this could’ve been prevented if only Sukuna understood love.
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lizzie-is-here · 1 year
Text
lonely is a man without love
part iv- the hunt
“the moon in me finds the sky in you” - dikshasuman
summary: you and steven do a little bit of grave robbing. oh yeah, marc’s there too.
wordcount: 3.6k
warnings: language, violence, red room talk, idk
a/n: yall i’m so sorry i dropped off the planet for a bit 💀 there’s been a lot going on like i’m in a situationship now w a friend from high school who moved to my college this semester, i finished my finals early, i see taylor swift tomorrow, i’m back home, but ANYWAY i hope y’all enjoy and pls forgive me ik it’s been 3 weeks 😭 love y’all
taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit @vainillasmil157 @doublevirgogirl
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Hijacking a car is the easiest part.
Driving with a pounding headache isn’t that bad either.
On the other hand, watching Marc fling off his shirt is very hard.
“How did Harrow know those things about me?” you ask, averting your eyes back to the road. “He saw right through me.”
“He’s just trying to mess with you. You know, he’s trying to get in your mind,” Marc says. “No, don’t let him do that. He’s got this idea that he can see the ‘true nature’ of people or some baloney like that.”
He starts putting on a new shirt, and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed as he continues. “If that were true, I don’t think he’d have a bunch of homicidal maniacs as his disciples, would he?”
You tap the steering wheel. “But he knew.”
Marc’s face twists with sympathy. “I know.” He raises a hand to pat your shoulder, but he thinks twice and sets it on the headrest instead. “But he’s just manipulating you. Weaponizing your past.”
You glance at his hand.
“… You can touch me, you know?” It comes out a bit awkward, but meaningful nonetheless.
He gives you a small smile and rests it on your shoulder, a light chill going up your body. You didn’t receive a friendly touch in your life until the Red Room fell, and the first time Nat hugged you after a team dinner you had sobbed your heart out.
It had become your love language, in a way. You may be picky with who touches you, but every passing graze means the world.
And the weight of his hand grounding you feels nice. So you sniffle a bit before nodding sharply.
“Thank you.” Marc doesn’t take his hand back. You don’t want him to. “What did he tell you? I kind of zoned out.”
He shrugs and begins working a knot in your shoulder. “Nothing much. ‘You’re unlovable’ and ‘You’re a monster’. It’s all the same with him.”
You can hear the underlying hurt in his tone, but don’t bring it up.
After a few seconds, you pipe up, hoping to lighten the mood.
“Have I told you about the time I jumped off the collapsing sky base for the Red Room without a parachute?”
———————————————————————
Pulling off into some sand dunes, you drive across the sandy terrain in hopes of finding a place to put this tattered cloth together.
Under the light from the headlights, you and Marc lay out the fabric on the hood of the car and start trying to piece it together.
“Try that,” he says, passing you a triangle.
Working in tandem, you make little progress. It’s like a puzzle with no directions. It’s frustrating to come to so many dead ends, and it’s starting to grate on Marc.
“I’m not getting any whole constellations, it’s just little pieces and fragments.” He slams his hands on the car and walks to the side.
“Marc,” you begin cautiously. “I think we may need Steven. I know you don’t want to, but he understands all of this. We need to give him a shot or we’ll be out here all night.”
Suddenly atop the car, Khonshu chuckles. “I summon the gods, you summon the worm. He won’t return the body.”
“Why do you feel the need to do that?” you grumble, heart rate slowing after the bird practically jumpscared you.
Marc grabs the side mirror before ripping it off and gathering the strips of cloth.
“What is it with you and mirrors?” you ask.
He pauses his irritated work and points to the broken mirror.
“I see Steven in reflections. Figure he’ll be happy about this.” He holds up the cloth.
Sighing, he walks away. “Alright,” he says. “Go ahead. You’re in.”
You can see the change before you hear the British accent.
Steven crouches down in the sand, ripping tape and assembling the scraps faster than you or Marc ever could have. You step closer, unsure of how he feels about you. You did lie about your job to him.
“Steven?” you ask, sitting down next to him. He looks up, momentarily taken aback. He stares for a bit, different from Marc’s half-lidded gaze. His eyes are wide, taking in every detail.
Well, every detail of you. But you don’t know that.
“Egyptians invented modern navigation,” he explains. “There’s not a lot of landmarks in the desert. So, they came up with a way to get about using the sun and stars. It’s bloody genius, innit?”
He holds up his work. A star.
You carefully take it, marveling at the cohesive map.
“Oh, woah, that’s amazing.” Steven blushes a bit at your words, but it goes unseen in the dark. “What do we do with it?”
“Well, I’m not sure, but if… Oh wait, hang on a minute.” He holds it up to the light. “You see that? You see those little pinpricks there? That’s a constellation.”
You nod. “Orion. We should be able to triangulate the stars into coordinates, right? Let me scan it.” With your phone, you pass over the star, letting it pick up the image.
“Well, um, actually… Unfortunately, it’s not that simple.” That much is revealed when nothing turns up. “Yeah, you see, Senfu marked that tomb, like 2,00 years ago. And stars drift over time. Not much as far as stars go, but it could mean the difference between us searching miles away from where we’re supposed to be looking.”
You pick up his insinuation. “So unless we know what the sky looked like on that date…”
“We’re buggered,” Steven finishes.
The god appears ahead of you, a warning before he speaks. “I remember that night. I remember every night.”
When he makes no movement, you and Steven begrudgingly head up the dune to meet him.
“I can turn back the night sky, but it will come at a cost.”
“Doesn’t it always,” you sigh.
He nods to Steven. “I cannot do it alone. Steven, when the gods imprison me, tell Marc to free me.”
Steven is wrapped in the same suit from before a few seconds later, eyes glowing. As the god raises his hand, he begins swiping it through the air. Steven mimics Khonshu’s motions, and before long, you gasp aloud.
The sky is spinning, whirling past as trails of stars blur together. The moon is little but glowing white dots, rapidly switching phases.
You’ve never seen something so beautiful.
“This is the night,” Khonshu says as the spinning stops, freezing the spiraling constellations on the night you were looking for.
“This is surprisingly painful,” Steven shouts.
You hurry to grab your phone, scanning the stars.
“I know, I’m sorry! But it’s working,” you call.
Khonshu collapses to his knees as Steven says, “I can feel my energy leaving me.” The head cover disappears as he loses control of the night sky. He reaches up again, holding it long enough for you to finish scanning.
“I got it! 29 degrees north, 25 east.” Steven collapses, and you tuck your phone away to hold him.
He crawls to you, coughing and trying to control his racing breaths. You help him stand, but it doesn’t do much. He faints as soon as you let go, falling face-first on the sand.
“Steven!” you shout.
“Hey, Steven?” No response. “Marc? Come on, idiots. Where are you? Marc, come on.”
You keep trying until you give up and start dragging the poor man across the sand, but it doesn’t last for long.
Headlights blind you as a car speeds toward the two of you. Shortly followed by gunfire.
“Shit, why do you have to be so heavy?” you grunt. “Oh my god, fine.” Reaching the top, you toss the body over the hill rather unceremoniously, racing down and hopping in the car.
The other car circles you as you duck down, grabbing any weapons you can find. The men step out and start inspecting Steven/Marc, and you take the opportunity to sneak out.
Striking up a flare, the red glow immediately catches their attention.
You hear them yelling before they make a sharp turn and start shooting again. You drop the flare and run around the other side, readying another.
Just as the truck pulls to a stop by the van, you run out, tossing the flaming signal onto the top of the bed, where there was plenty of ammunition just waiting to be exploded. It doesn’t take long for the fuse to spark.
It’s safe to say that you receive a small firework show, and both bodies tumble out with no sign of getting back up anytime soon. If at all.
When you turn around, you immediately shriek.
“OH MY GOD!”
Steven stares back at you, now completely fine and a bit confused.
“…What?” he asks.
You shove him lightly. “Don’t scare me like that, Иисус Христос [Jesus Christ]. I could’ve thrown a flare at you.”
Steven meekly apologizes and your anger dissipates, so you wave to the car.
“C’mon. We’d better get going if we’re going to catch up to Harrow.”
———————————————————————
By the time you’re almost at the tomb, the sun has begun to rise.
“We can’t lose more time,” you grumble finally, breaking the silence. “Harrow must be headed back to this tomb.”
You bite your lip, weighing your words on your tongue. “Listen, if he’s there, we’ll need Marc.”
“No,” Steven says.
You blink. “No?”
He shakes his head. “No. See, the thing is, we made a deal, Marc and I, that when he was done with Khonshu, he would disappear for good.”
Steven glances to the mirror where you figure Marc is yelling at him.
‘But that deal didn’t involve you getting (Y/N) and us killed. That’s not gonna fly with me.’
“You made a deal?” you ask, unaware of the words of the other alter. “That he would just, never come back? Never eat, sleep, live? I understand this is a complicated situation, but both of you belong in your body equally. Besides, that would mean he would also completely disappear from my life.” You add the last bit much quieter.
“What do you mean?”
You hesitate, gripping the wheel. “Yeah, well, the guy’s kinda grown on me. Both of you have.”
‘Steven, you’re gonna make her upset, stop. Give me the body.’
“Even if he would want to ‘lone wolf’ this whole thing,” you continue, waving your hand. “I’ve been there before, and I’m not going to let you dive into a suicide mission alone.”
Ignoring the frustrated man in the mirror, Steven nods. “Yep, it’s just you and me, and the open road.” You brake hard, stifling your amusement as he jolts forward.
“We’re gonna go on foot,” you say, more of an order than a suggestion. He agrees readily, and both of you trek through the narrow path to your destination.
The shadows are a welcome relief from the heat, yet every sound has you tense. Every bit of movement could be a sniper. Every crevice could hide a hitman.
“There.” You point down to a camp. “It looks like they’re already inside, so we need to find another way to beat them to- What’s its name?”
“Uh, Ammit. She eats dead people’s souls.”
“Great. Let’s check the camp.”
Steven heads into a tent, rifling through the belongings. It’s going well, at least until a glass table reflects Marc instead of himself.
‘You look scared.’
“I’m not.”
‘You should be.’ Marc gives a wry grin that’s barely visible on the glass. ‘Without Khonshu, there’s no more suit, no more healing, no more power.’
Steven shines a flashlight directly into his eyes and blinks away the dancing spots. “Yeah, and no more you. I thought. It’s what you said, innit? But believing anything that comes out of your mouth just shows what a plonker I am.”
‘Look, I wish I could just disappear, I really do. But unfortunately, I’m still here. If you’re gonna go through with this, you gotta be smart.’ Marc hesitates a bit. ‘For (Y/N)’s sake. I’ve been in situations like this before.’
Steven shrugs. “So have I. It’s the same body, innit? It’s in there somewhere. Muscle memory and all that.” Marc rolls his eyes from the desk.
‘Yeah, I’m not sure it works that way. Just-’
“Oh, whatever,” Steven huffs, cutting him off.
‘I’m here,’ Marc calls, voice permanently in Steven’s head, even as he tries to walk away. ‘You’re not alone.’
“I know I’m not alone! I know I’m bloody not alone, I’ve got (Y/N). She’s got my back.”
Marc’s snide response shocks both of them. ‘Oh, are you in love?’ he calls. ‘You’re gonna get all of us killed.’
“And you don’t love her?” Steven snaps back, stomping down his flustered-ness to prod at the other man. “Look, I appreciate your concern, mate, I really do. But we’ve got it from here.”
As he eagerly hurries out of the tent, Marc yells from a mirror.
‘If you touch her, I swear to you, Steven. I swear, I’ll throw us off a cliff!’
Meanwhile, searching the camp, you freeze when something catches your eye. A bloodied tool, but not something modern. It’s old as fuck, from what you can tell. But the blood is fresh. Like someone stole this from the tomb and stabbed the nearest person with little regard to the trail they’d leave.
Blood covers the nearby crates. Only more reason to get out of the open.
Charging up your Widow Bites, you head to the entry point where Steven is waiting. You quickly start putting on his harness, trying to ignore how close you are by constantly glancing over your shoulder.
“I have to say, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” he excitedly whispers. “The adventure, I mean.” Not surprising. His love for Egyptology makes this basically the most dangerous yet exciting field study ever.
You smile. “Yeah. We want what we’ve never had.” Tightening the buckles, you can’t help but notice his breath ghosting over your cheek. “You know, family, freedom. Relationships…”
There’s a moment of connection. Your eyes meet and you don’t look away.
He’d be really easy to kiss. You know he would be. And a part of you really wants to. But not right now.
You cough a bit and look away, grabbing some gloves as you clip his harness on the rope.
“I will go down first,” you manage, voice quieter than usual. “Before I belay.”
“Yeah, of course,” Steven says. “What’s belay?”
You chuckle and wordlessly drop, reaching the bottom with little issue. What you don’t see is Marc summoning enough control to punch Steven directly in the face, partially for almost kissing you and partially for not doing it.
Underground, the oppressive heat finally relents and you let out a puff of air.
Grabbing your flashlight, you scan the room and run a finger along the dirt atop the sphinx hidden in the dark.
Before you know it, you’ve traced the signature hourglass of the Red Room.
“Shit,” you whisper. Before you can focus on it for too long, shouting from behind you causes you to whip around.
Steven tumbles down the entrance, falling flat on his back with a grunt. You help him up, dusting him off a bit.
“There you go,” you chuckle.
He blushes a bit. “I kinda wish you hadn’t seen that.” You shrug, smiling.
He glances up, eyes widening. “Oh, wow, look at you…” It’s your turn to blush now, almost giggling at the feeling in your chest before you notice that he’s looking at the sphinx, not you.
“Oh, yeah. They really are… gorgeous, aren’t they?” You’re staring at Steven as you speak. “They’re just, they’ve been standing guard for centuries.”
He nods excitedly. “Right! Look, I just- If they sprang to life right now and asked me a riddle for passage, I’d be thrilled. I’d shit myself,” he adds, “but I’d be thrilled.”
“Did… did you do this?” Steven asks, pointing to the hourglass drawing.
Reluctantly, you nod.
“Force of habit… the… The Red Room protocol was to leave the emblem wherever we went. A subtle reminder that Dreykov’s power went beyond borders.” You gesture to the symbol. “A reminder that he was all-powerful.”
You chuckle ruefully, pointing to the symbol. “Even without the pheromone lock, without his agents, he’s still controlling me.”
Steven notices the way you’re voice has quieted, how your usually-relaxed posture has slumped in on itself.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, as if the stone sphinx can hear him.
In an instant, you’re brushing it off.
“Yeah. No, it’s fine, really,” you say, confident once more and hurriedly striding down the dark hallway.
The path twists and turns, disorienting you until you freeze in a small room.
“It’s a maze,” you huff.
Steven can’t help his quip. “It’s a-maze-ing.”
“No,” you snort before pointing around. “Like, there are six paths.”
The man behind you starts muttering to himself as you scan the room. A familiar smell lingers in the air, one you would know anywhere, even if it is hidden by the smell of sand and dust.
Gunpowder.
A few bullet shells lie in the sand.
“What were they shooting at?” you whisper. No one else should be here except Harrow’s dig team.
Steven begins tracing on the center table, much like you had. When you notice a shape forming, you step closer to inspect it.
“This whole structure is the Eye of Horus,” he says. “Look at that. It’s the royal symbol, protection in the afterlife.”
You nod, keeping up with the research you’d done. “But, the resources needed…” The epiphany hits you. “Ammit’s final avatar was a pharaoh.”
“Woah, a bloody pharaoh,” Steven gasps.
“So, do you think this is a map?” you ask, not wanting to disturb the drawing.
“Right. The Eye of Horus is also the eye of the mind, yeah? Representing the six senses, six points. The eyebrow denotes thoughts. Pupil, sight, obviously.”
He continues pointing about the shape. “This point here is, uh, hearing. Smell, touch. And this long line ending in a spiral, is the tongue.”
“An avatar would be Ammit’s voice,” you mutter.
Both of you turn to the corresponding tunnel at once, heading down it together. It ends in an open room, still very musty smelling but less claustrophobic than the previous areas.
You explore for only a few seconds before Steven’s gagging.
“Oh my- Oh my god, is that fresh blood?” he manages. “Isn’t that little chunks of meaty bits?”
You nod in affirmation, really hoping he doesn’t hurl. That’s when you notice canopic jars, very full of organs and coated in very fresh blood. It hasn’t even crusted.
Another bloodied tool lies on the operating table.
You’d read about doctors and sorcerers buried with a pharaoh to protect him from intruders, but this? Checking down the exit hallway, you only see a thick trail of blood.
“Okay, okay,” you hiss, glancing up to the secondary level. “Steven, there might be a way out up there, go check.”
He clambers up with a bit of help from you, wood creaking and echoing around the stone walls.
“So, according to the ancient texts, Ammit should be bound to an ushabti, a little stone statue thingy.” You let him geek out a bit before gunfire stops your heart right in its tracks.
“Harrow,” you say, just loud enough for Steven to hear.
“What are they shooting at?”
You don’t have time to respond when a sickening clicking sound comes from right outside the door.
“Hide. Hide,” Steven calls.
With nowhere to go, you duck down by the table.
The clicking grows ever closer until you spot something, mangled and grotesque, tossing a barely-alive digger onto the stone surface.
The stabbing and squelching sound that follows is enough for you to know that some more jars are about to be filled.
In all honesty, you’ve heard worse, so you silently exhale and try to stay as still as possible.
That plan gets shot the moment you shift and bump a jar.
Wincing, you silently shift away from the table, steadying your breathing as the clicking grows more aggressive. From Steven’s hiding spot, a loud creak rises up and the creature -whatever is it is- jumps atop the table to search for the source of the sound.
You can hear it start climbing the wall, fighting to get to Steven. And that just won’t do.
With a click of a button, you fire off an electrical blast from your gauntlets. It stuns the mummified man, who falls to the table.
Steven shouts with a force you’ve never heard from him and topples a shelf, effectively crushing it.
“I squished it. I squished it,” he whispers.
“Yes,” you say, forcing an encouraging tone. “You definitely squished it, now come on.”
He clambers down the ledge with no semblance of grace, and you take his hand, rushing through the hallway to want you hope will be your destination.
As you’re stepping across shattered stones, a grin finally forms on your face.
This is it. The walls are lined with hieroglyphs, gilded statues line the chamber.
And a sarcophagus lies in the center, water surrounding it.
“Oh, my days,” Steven whispers. “First ones in. Tomb fit for a pharaoh. Thutmose II, Nefertiti, it’s gotta be one of the big ones.”
You point to the sarcophagus, eyes narrowing.
“Steven?”
“Yeah?”
“Those aren’t hieroglyphs. That’s…”
You speak at the same time. “Macedonian.”
He mutters to himself, inspecting the writing. Thoughts spilling out as his mouth races to keep up with his mind.
“I think we’re looking at the long-lost tomb of Alexander the Great,” he concludes. You understand why he’s excited, but a part of you also knows that now is not the time. Not when you’re in a time crunch.
Setting your hands on the lid, you nod for Steven to join you.
“Everything inside me is, like, screaming not to open this thing,” he says nervously.
“Well, it’s either us or Harrow. Your pick.” You know it’s a bit unfair, but it works.
He sets his hands by yours, bracing himself.
You raise a brow. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
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charmac · 26 days
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People seem to forget that transmasc people can still dress feminine and vice versa. Men can wear wigs and dresses and women can cut their hair and grow beards. I think Charlie is transmasc and discovered this early so since he transitioned and looked like a male Bonnie dressed him femininely and he felt fine with it. some people are acting like men cant wear dresses and its annoying
It's definitely absolutely insanely accidental, but RCG really wrote Charlie as the most gender character of all time.
The Bathroom Problem is kinda the best example you can give anyone as to how you can have an infinite interpretation of gender: "cis man who poops transgender," I give you transman who can still enjoy wearing a dress in a certain environment, transfem whose closet is a bathroom stall, genderfluid in the place of bodilyfluids (okay, wait. WAS it definitely accidental?)
We're all on Tumblr, we all know anyone can look and dress any way and be any gender (or, if you don't understand that, I encourage you to explore and talk to trans mutuals!), which is why I think it's quite nonsensical to spend time arguing over a headcanon being dismissive of another. Charlie can be anything! Or nothing! (TY Charlie Day for my favourite line in Right to Chop "I don't really identify..." <3)
People aren't required to share the same interpretations or agree on what is a good or bad headcanon, and I think if you're getting upset by someone's own personal preferences or their interpretation for character analysis, you're just not supposed to be in the same circles of the fandom, and that's okay! You can share your own opinions, you can post your own content, but you can't keep people from personally disagreeing or expressing why they dislike a certain interpretation in their own, personal spaces online.
A lot of Sunny is pretty deep and also, very heavy. It's not surprising that people end up pulling a lot out of it, often projecting, and then find themselves very personally connected to their own interpretations and feel extremely validated when others agree with them, or feel upsettingly thrown when they see conflicting ideas. I feel all of that constantly, about many different aspects and characters, and a lot of the time I need to talk about it! I spent two years trying to do that on the SUBREDDIT and that's why I made this blog (and why my Twitter account is all but overrun by Sunny, lmfao). I think that's why most of us are here? And a lot of the time we're going to very heavily, crazily, completely agree with each other, but other times we're going to disagree as well.
Sometimes disagreement is something you can shrug off and move past (yeah, there are very clearly multiple interpretations), something you can just get over by venting more privately or one-on-one, but sometimes it's something you think is genuinely important to address/speak about, and I think that's actually how we can end up having very interesting and meaningful discussions and learn from each other.
(But if that's no good, just unfollow and block if you need to. Some people just don't get along or come from too-far distant places to agree on certain things, and that's a fact of life! This show has thousands of fans who think The D.E.N.N.I.S. System is actually a genius method, and a couple thousand more who think he is genuinely a killer ladies man)
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So, @arcanavoid made me thinking about Lucio in their post
WELL THEN LETS TALK ABOUT LUCIO YOU BITCHES
Pleas keep in mind that I'm right now very drunk and I'm not a native speaker and the autocorrect for this phone can only do so much Also I'm in a different time zone so if you see this at, like 10 in the morning or whatever, no worries bc now is definitely night here and I also program my posts I have not a drinking problem thats why I cant hold my f-ing liquor
WELL THEN MY DEAR LUCIO and
WHY
as a person who is very close to people with serious mental illness, like i legit live with them
I THINK LUCIO'S ROUTE IS SO GREAT
Let's start with an assumption: we're all assholes. Somewhere in our life, maybe in the past, or present, or future, we are huge AH. It's not like we're evil and condemned to hell, it's just that as humans we're small, petty and miserable so we behave badly and are very selfish when big difficulties challenge us. Like, sometimes we manage to scramble enough willpower and common sense to act decently as we're afraid and suffering, but lots of times we don't and make shitty things. So here's my first point:
1. We all are a Lucio sometimes. Or often.
Like, way more than we want to admit. We're afraid, we're too full of ourselves, and we behave in petty ways. We're mean towards strangers, we feel happy in humiliating them and showing the world how better than anyone else we are. We need something bc we live in a world that doesn't grant basic human rights (food, shelter, health, safety and human connection), so we strain to get those things, sometimes at others' expenses. Then we tell ourself that those people deserved our scorn and malice because they're bad, and we tell us such lies because facing the guilt of what we've done is painful and complex.
We need to show ourselves we're better, so enjoy picking at others' mistakes without caring who they are in a whole (this is super easy on the internet). All this while low key ignoring what bad we're more or less responsible for.
And we are. Like, if you ever did buy something on sites like shein, you are actually exploiting poor people who are basically slaves. And you're keeping a blind eye on it.
But you know what? You're not evil for this. We're weak sometimes, we're tired, we have little time and really don't have the lucidity to think whether this stupid chicken breast is full of hormones and antibiotics or not. We're humans and we're small. Often we're sad, afraid and tired and we need a malicious self esteem bost.
Often, we're Lucio.
2. A flaming piece of trash can change. And doesn't need others' forgiveness to do so.
Did you notice how everyone is so eager to show of other people are wrong and bad and evil? That's because they, and we as well, need reassurance about how we're the hero of the story.
That's because we can't tolerate being the flaming piece of trash, because the the flaming piece of trash can't change and everyone hates them.
This idea is stupid.
It doesn't matter how low you fell. How many people you hurt, how many times you made the same stupid mistake or how many people deeply despise you. You still can change.
That's why is
So
Important
To have a Lucio route where it's shown he can choose to be better, no matter how deeply wrong his past deeds were.
The moment we understand this concept is the one our guilt becomes less heavy and we start being less judging of others. Granted.
This doesn't mean you're entitled to people's forgiveness - but the fact that YOU are willing to forgive yourself means that you can really change and forgive others. If some people won't forgive you, it will be fine, no need to hate them: you can always find new people to gift your better self to.
This is what happens to Lucio. Will Asra ever truly forgive him for making him and orphan and killing you? No. But this doesn't mean that Lucio will be a villain forever. He will be still able to change, become a good man and gift his goodness to the MC.
As MC says to Julian: you can always come back.
3. What it takes to change
Now, I'm in general rly humble when talking about mental health bc I'm no doctor nor therapist. But living with people who went through hell and managed to survive (and knowing people who sadly didn't), made me able to figure a couple of things. So, brace yourself. I'm about to give you the ultimate recipe of healing.
It takes two things:
Compassion and Accountability
When all is said and done, this things are the two main things it takes to change and heal. Compassion for believing you can change and deserve happiness, seeing the world through other people's eyes and accountability to motivate you into stop being a dick and owning the shit you did (so yeah, maybe you should stop blaming your parents for who you are, sry, but it doesn't serves your cause).
and there's one and only one way to get them:
Positive human connections.
That's it. When you go to the bone to it, that's how one can change, heal and survive.
It's reduced to the very bone, simple idea: the whole process is much more complicated and it's ok if you get lost in it. But at the very root, this is it.
And this is WHY Lucio's route it's so great:
MC shows compassion, because they don't recall him doing anything bad to them.
MC helps him being accountable. They doesn't shelter Lucio from his guilt, never.
MC believes in them but NEVER puts up with their shit
MC doesn't believe his lies and doesn't lie to them either. No games: they talk through everything, they're kind but firm and true.
MC helps him accept other people's scorn towards him
I love this route because it's the one where the MC is the most clever. There's a murder mistery? Let's ask the ghost of the murdered one who did it. Everyone is mad at him? Let them be. Not bc "he deserves it", but bc people are entitled to be mad at him and to their idea about him. He has troubles with his mother? Don't get between them. Listen, understand, let them unravel their shit. Ghosts are mad at him? Sit with him, but don't do his emotional weightlifting. Mc puts Lucio in front of his deeds and holds his hand as he deals with them.
Folks: THIS is how it's done irl.
4. No dumb justification & the danger of privilege
There are a lot of shows about "why villains are like this" that paint them as a poor misunderstood saint who was mistreated by their parents. Like in Once Upon a Time or the Disney Villain's Live actions. I hate that stuff because they distort the plot to make the villain a misunderstood anti heroe who was a victim all along, so he's justified.
Guess what: they're not. If you actions are evil there's no justification. No retelling of your story: you made very bad choice and were an AH and that's it.
This is what happens with Lucio: in his route his story doesn't gets to be retold. It's an honest story about how Lucio, the villain, can choose to be the better man and benefit from it. It's a story about the inherent dangers of Privilege:
Lucio's story shows how dangerous privilege can be: he wasn't hold accountable for his actions while he was alive, bc he was pretty, powerful and rich. He loses his privilege, he gets his ass kicked, he find motivations to change in his desire to be loved. I know irl folks who got to adulthood without having to face how shitty they were bc of social privilege. It literally kept them from changing, healing and be happy. So beware, folks. Your privilege might be harming you in the first place, and the day you will face who you truly are without it WILL come. The later, the worst.
So, this is why I love Lucio's route. It's relatable and helps us to find the courage to face our demons, knowing that we can change. Knowing that we can forgive ourselves and accept others' scorn. It WILL be hard, it WILL be painful, there WILL be consequences, but eventually it will be worth the hassle.
So, long live the goatman, for he can change. And so do we.
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meowzilla93 · 9 days
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this is a rant, vent, jumble of words im feeling and need to get it out of my system because im a little done
please scroll along if you dont wanna read, or dont, i dont control you
it never ceases to amaze me just how cruel people in fandoms can be. cruel, mean, hyprocritical, straight up dumb.
dont get me wrong, these people are a minority. i have found myself amongst the best sort of people in fandoms i am a part of and couldnt be happier for the friendships i have made from them.
but this incredibly loud minority piss me off to no end. i stay away from any sort of discourse, silently watching from the background and watch thing blow up over trivial matters, and then learn who to avoid in those circles and move on with my life
but when i see, what i consider to be blatant bullying, to someone i hold dear, i dont want to be quiet anymore. im not a loud figure, im a tiny blog that loves to simp over 2d characters, a tiny stream channel that i interact with like minded people. and i mean i am TINY, im barely a blip on this wide web. so anything i say, it doesnt go anywhere, so still, i stay silent until i cant anymore.
so lets get to the crux of the matter.
if you dont like a character, you dont get to make others feel bad about liking them. i dont care if you think they are problematic, if you dont like their story, their look, or simply the fact that they exist
you dont get to make someone feel bad for finding a connection with them and loving them
you dont get to attack them about liking the character, passively or aggressively, you dont get to make fun of them and any of the work they do around them. you have no right to take it upon yourself and make someone feel like they dont belong just because they like a character that you dont
if you dont like the character, dont fucking interact, its that bloody simple. scroll away. mute the tag, mute the channel, whatever. just walk away
interacting with someones content for the pure purpose to make fun of it is cruel. you are making it public that you want to demean the person for what they enjoy. and the worst thing is, if you catch the attention of the younger audience, they learn that they get to act that way, and this kind of online activity only gets worse
it already has gotten worse. man, im a millenial and i thought keyboard warriors when i was in highschool and older where bad. these days the younger generation feel justified to think that they can say whatever they want and suffer no consequences of those actions. i see it in so many fandom discourses. its horrible
but they learn from the worst of us on the internet. the more they see the cruel interactions, the more they think its okay to act that way. and without a doubt, fandoms will end up being incredibly toxic environments that people wont feel comfortable to exist in anymore.
every fandom has a toxic space, its unfortunate but it is true. i wish it wasnt
and the smaller the fandom, the louder this toxic group is
it just fucking sucks. and watching people i care about be treated so badly hurts because all i can do is be their support. an ear, a shoulder, just someone they can vent to. but it doesnt stop the fact that they got hurt and i cant do anything about it
god i dont even know what this even turned into. im tired, im upset, im just so frustrated.
why cant people just be nice?
if you managed to read all the way down here, man i applaud you. that was a great mess of thoughts, i still have many more but at this point i feel like i would be repeating myself
please, just. be kind guys. its not that hard, i swear it
to all my moots, honestly, i love you guys. seeing all your work and love you put into your creations gives me life and brightens my day. dont ever stop loving your craft and your fav characters just because someone decided to be a prick.
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yamatologistt · 1 year
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im like, what, 10 years late to the whole walking dead game thing but i was way too young back then to understand the game. i hope people still enjoy it, its a really good game (and sad) but im only up to season 3 right now (i only really liked s1 and s2) but im not finished so i cant really make decisions rn
i just want to talk about ben rn and evaluate him cause im rewatching it and now that hes my favourite i notice more things about him now. (i literally look at him everytime hes in frame even if its just showing the back of his head oml)
but anyway i see a lot of ben hate and sure i get it but i dont at the same time ben is so silly how can u hate him
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- to start, when we first met ben in the woods, he’d already been through some stuff, like he saw his classmate off herself and turn into a walker, his camp got raided and he was left with 1 friend and his teacher (who both still die btw) so most of what he had left before the apocalypse was gone
- when lee is rationing out the food, if he gives ben food first, kenny comes and tells lee that there’s kids that need food too, and ben literally is like ‘sorry i didnt want any trouble’ like cmon, and he’s literally a kid too he deserves the food as much as anyone else
- on the train he is interested in the controls and being up there, so we can see that he generally enjoyed it. but once lee gets the engine going, kenny comes and ben immediately has to go babysit katjaa clem and duck (he is also visibly upset) AND THEN later on lee asks how ben was doing and he says ‘im watching the girls and not working on a mega cool train’ (let him on the train immediately 😠😠)
- ok, so maybe he did sneak supplies to the bandits and i think this is just me being biased but i feel like him giving the supplies held off the bandits a little. i mean think about it, they moved on from the st john’s farm and started taking from the motel, right? im not sure how the bandits asked ben (if they made it clear then i forgot) but if he refused wouldnt the bandits come attack even earlier? i mean they needed the supplies right, and if ben didnt give them anything to begin with they would have raided the motel anyway. i mean they knew where they were even before the st john incident. idk its just a thought
- i think it was cool how ben managed to confess to lee that he was the one who slipped the bandits supplies. like you can tell ben is a good guy cause the guilt was almost literally eating him from the inside. and even though ben isnt one of the bravest people, he still confessed knowing that lee’s reaction wouldnt be pretty. (also his stance when leaning on the train railing was so silly to me)
- after they meet christa and omid, ben tells lee that his biggest fear was to be eaten by the walkers. i mean he literally said that if he got bitten he would off himself 😢😢
- also ben was always referred to as a child but he was never treated like one, everyone excpected him to be brave and strong but in reality he was just some scrawny highschool student who was scared and couldnt live up to his impossible standards. man, i really just wanna give ben a big hug
- if you tell ben to “kill anything that gets in” he responds with “you know you’re talking to me, right?” poor ben
- even though his biggest fear is getting eaten by walkers, you still have the option to leave him behind, and let him go at the bell tower. i mean how could u do this to him hes already gone through enough
- lastly, the part where ben tells off kenny is literally iconic, that scene singlehandedly made ben one of my favourite characters of all time, i was like everyone else, i didnt care about ben because i thought he was a bad guy since i never really payed attention to him. but i swear when he was telling kenny off it felt like i was being told off too. i mean his point was valid too, kenny had his family to say goodbye to, and ben (and literally everyone else) never got to see their family, (or they saw them as walkers, lee and clem,, :( )
- i know the last point was meant to be the last one but cmon its ben i could type this for ages longer but yeah. he had the literal best character development in the game. at first he was some stupid kid who was always messing up and before he died he was an amazing character who deserved literally everything. omg i cried so hard when he died cause when he fell i was like, oh i think its ok the fall wasnt too far and he said he only hurt his leg, but bro once we saw what really happened my heart sank bro it was so sad i really hoped nothing bad happened to him ☹️☹️ but i think kenny did the right thing cause like we said, his worst fear was the walkers getting to him. gosh i feel like i watched his death for the first time ages ago and i still cant stop thinking about him man
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anyways, i would literally do anything to give ben a massive hug, he did his best and he was literally so funny too :((
(thanks if u read this far btw, i just wanted to rant about this man i love him so much and i will defend him with my life) 😠‼️
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