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altruisticalastor · 3 months

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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

☒ Summary: "Alastor said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel looked puzzled. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

☒ Warnings: fem!reader she/her pronouns used, hurt with no comfort sorry, tons of confusion for alastor and the reader, one kiss, very suggestive language (its from angel- are we surprised?), slight self harming (alastor), blood, tears, arguing, desprate!alastor, toxic themes, split pov (second devider is when alastor's pov starts!)

☒ Word Count: 2,653

"You- WHAT?"

Angel shot up from his spot on your bed. His eyes widened, eyebrows knitting in perplexity.

"I know- I know! It's bad... but I wasn't thinking clearly!" You slumped under Angel's judgemental gaze, pulling your knees up to your chest from where you sat on your bed.

"Toots, there is no way his pussy eating skills are good enough to fuck you that dumb!" You averted your gaze. Heat rose to your cheeks from Angel's crass words.

"Oh, but they are..." You mumbled before you felt two of Angel's hands grip your shoulders, shaking you out of frustration.

"Did you really have to pick an absolute psychopath to be the one to pop your cherry? Toots, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone you want!" You were flustered beyond comprehension as Angel stopped shaking you. Opting to glare at your heated face instead.

"We didn't go all the way! Plus he's the one who's been pursuing me all this time- I didn't get it at first, and I still don't. But-" Your expression morphed into one of contemplation. Angel's jaw went slack as he impatiently awaited your next words. "But what?! Spit it out!"

"He said we've met before. In the living world. But I seriously don't ever remember meeting him." Angel nudged you to the side before slotting himself atop your bed once more. "Soo... what do you remember from your life?"

You froze.

Angel's inquiry filled your mind with more questions than answers.

"I... not much," You paused, turning to face Angel before you continued. "The earliest memory I have is waking up in a hospital bed after surviving a blow to the head from some hunting accident."

You closed your eyes, wracking your brain for every last detail you could remember; no matter how small. "I ended up falling into a coma only days after that mishap. The next thing I know, I'm in fucking hell." You chucked bitterly. Angel let out a laugh of his own.

"No offense, babe, but that has to be one of the saddest fuckin' things I've ever heard," Angel outstretched his legs, overlapping them atop yours. "That accident, what else can you remember about it? Maybe that's the ticket!"

Your eyes shot open from Angel's question. "Wait... before I fell into a coma, there was this nurse- she told me that I was led into the woods by a dangerous fellow," You paused, eyes scanning Angel's wildly as he perched himself forward. Literally hanging on the edge of his seat from your musings.

"She told me the gunshot wound saved my life, fucking ironic now because It ended up killing me anyway. She also said that... the man who took me into the woods was a serial killer who had been on the run for decades. He ended up getting shot in the head that night, also. Except he died instantly..."

Angel was hanging on to every word you uttered. He could see the pieces falling into place from your look of awe. "What was the man's name, toots? What was it?!" Angel shouted a little louder than he intended. You jolted back from his outburst, taking in a shaky breath. You replayed that memory with the nurse over and over again.

She had to have said it at some point.

Come on! Think, think- think!

“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That 𝘈⃒̅𝘭⃒̅𝘢⃒̅𝘴⃒̅𝘵⃒̅𝘰⃒̅𝘳⃒̅ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer.”

"His target was a nearby deer."

A deer...

Again.

Retrace.

"That ɹ̸o̸ʇ̸s̸ɐ̸ʅ̸Ɐ̸ fellow was an active murderer for decades! The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer."

Fuck- it was just out of reach.

One more time, one more fucking time.

Think carefully.

"The hunter wasn’t even aiming for That A͊l͖a̪sto̶̸̅r̷̦͍ fellow. His target was a nearby deer."

You gasped sharply, startling Angel. You felt your heart sink into your stomach as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.

"Alastor... his name was Alastor."

Your voice was distant as you spaced out. Angel's face blurred out of focus through your line of sight.

"You've got to be fuckin' kidding me. That freak was going to kill you when you were still alive-? And now... you belong to him? Shit- toots! This is rough... and not the good kind of rough."

Alastor sat at the piano. Staring at the keys with that ever-present smile— but not daring to strike a tune.

You’ve been avoiding him again.

What was it going to take for you to realize that he was your fiancé on earth?

Sure, his features were more creature than man, but at the end of the day; Alastor was still the same man you fell in love with.

Maybe he should have held off from his… desires.

Could you blame him, though? He’s been waiting nearly a century to be reunited with his beloved.

You’re the person he thought about for all these lonely years in hell. The only solace for Alastor was the notion that you survived, lived a long happy life, and inevitably made it to the pearly gates.

So imagine his despair when you showed up at the Hazbin Hotel, looking to be redeemed.

Alastor recognized you immediately. He could spot that grin of yours in a crowd of billions.

Smile at the world, and she smiles back at you.

But— you didn’t even spare him the time of day. Alastor gave you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you just needed some time to reignite your memory.

And so, he gave you time. You’ll come around, Alastor thought.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong, as much as he hated to admit it.

He grew impatient— losing all of his resolve when you admitted to his voice reminding you of home.

Alastor presumed maybe a passionate encounter would jumpstart your adoration for him. You had never breached that level of intimacy when you both were alive. You were adamant about waiting until marriage, but those dreams never came true.

Yet even still, it was not enough.

Was he really that forgettable to you?

Suddenly, a knock on his door pulled him from his stupor. Alastor quickly cleared his throat, straightening his bowtie and taking steps toward his door.

The second he swung the door open, he was met by the person who invaded his every thought; you.

“What a pleasant surprise! Come in, my dearest.” Alastor piped up, stepping aside to let you into his safe haven.

Your face was devoid of any vibrancy, and your eyes frantically avoided his. Alastor watched you closely as you hesitantly stepped past the threshold of his space.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Alastor hummed as he shut the door before turning on his heel to face you.

You rubbed at the sleeve of your dress nervously. Alastor’s mind instantly flashed the memory of your first meeting.

The sight of you soothing yourself with a gentle caress to your bicep. Clammy hands seeping perspiration through that gorgeous vermilion dress of yours.

“I-I remember you…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. Legs trembling from where you stood before him.

Your words caused Alastor’s heart to race wildly.

At long last— you remember him!

“I knew you would, my smart girl! Ah- you have no clue how elated I am to finally hear those words leave your lips!” He invaded your personal space without missing a beat.

Alastor’s eyebrows knitted in confusion as you dodged his hand— that had full intention of clasping around your cheek.

“Don’t… don’t touch me.” Your voice was shrill as you took a step back from him.

Alastor took one step forward.

“My darling, why are you being so cold? You know how much I loathe teasing.” Alastor forced out a chuckle as you took two steps back.

Alastor took three steps forward this time.

“You’re sick! You’re the one who’s been teasing me all this time— how dare you?!” You spat, raising your hands to push him away, but to no avail.

Alastor grasped your wrists with his large palms. He gazed down at you with a frenzied look, grip tightening scarcely around your wrists. “Darling… this isn’t funny anymore.” His voice was low, and the corners of his lips twitched in irritation.

“It never was funny to begin with! I mean, how could you try to kill me on earth and then think it’s okay to fool around with me in hell?!” You glared up at him, tears of frustration now rolling down your cheeks.

Alastor’s grip loosened from your words. He was utterly astonished. "You think I... tried to kill you?" His voice was quiet, crimson orbs frantically searching yours.

You grimaced at him, rolling your eyes before you shouted, "You led me out into the woods, and the next thing I know, I'm in the hospital with a gunshot wound to the head and no memories before waking up in a stiff hospital bed! Everything I know about you and the accident was spoon-fed to me by some crappy nurse!"

Alastor's smile dropped. He wasn't even aware of the frown that crossed his features. The only giveaway was the absence of that standard achy feeling in his cheeks from holding an everlasting grin. "Darling, I-I'm not following... you mean to tell me you... don't remember your life before that mishap?"

You looked puzzled by Alastor's uncharacteristic display of distress. His hands slipped from your wrists as he wobbled backward. "Yeah, and It's your fault! If you didn't haul me out into those woods to kill me, I would still remember who I was! And my whole life before all this bullshit!"

You took a step forward.

"I would remember my family, my career, if I even fucking had one! I would remember my joyful memories, my painful ones, and— and- maybe I would remember somebody who actually loved me!" You furiously glared up at him. Pointing your index finger into his chest in an accusatory fashion.

Alastor snapped at your last words.

Somebody who actually loved you?

It was him.

It was always him.

Was his love for you really that immemorable?

"You truly aren't joking... you... don't remember me." Alastor felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. You were the last thing keeping it intact. All that he felt in his chest now was your blunt fingernail piercing his skin from where you jabbed him.

"I just told you I do! What the fuck are you talking about?!" Alastor could tell your patience was wearing thin. You were probably just as confused as he was but for all the wrong reasons.

Alastor's arms fell limp against his sides. Yet his fists were balled up so tightly that he could hear the pitter-patter of his blood spilling onto the carpet from how deeply his nails sunk into the flesh of his palm.

You weren't ever going to believe the truth, but Alastor still needed to try.

"My dearest... that is not how we met. And my intentions were not and never will be to end your life." Alastor paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing.

"You're frustrated about not remembering somebody that loved you, yes? As am I..." You tilted your head in confusion. Finally pulling your finger away from his wounded chest. "What the fuck are you trying to say, Alastor?" Your voice was laced with annoyance, and your scowl was unwavering.

"Darling, that somebody that loved you was me-and still is. It will always be me," Alastor paused, hands now finding purchase on your shoulders. "That accident should have never happened! We were scheduled to be wed at the courthouse later that evening... but... we never... made it..."

Why were his cheeks burning unbearably so?

And why was your countenance blurring before his very eyes?

Alastor's grip on your shoulders was unwavering, but his hands now trembled. Your expression was one of perplexity as you shook your head incredulously. "I loved you in life and now in death. I've loved you all this time, my sweet girl. Nothing will ever change that! Please, I beg of you- you must believe me!"

The definitive radio static crackle to his voice was nowhere to be found. Instead, his voice was laced with desperation. You looked disoriented through his blurry gaze as you took a weary step back.

Alastor felt wetness trickle down his burning cheeks.

Oh, he was... crying?

The last time he wept was when he first arrived in this grim place otherwise known as Hell. The realization that he left you on earth all alone tore him up. Alastor was inconsolable for years.

You truly knew how to put him together just to rip him apart all over again, huh?

There is no undoing grander than love itself.

"I-I don't believe you..." Your voice was just above a whisper as you slipped out of his grasp and approached the doorway. You turned your back on him, literally and metaphorically.

Alastor didn't miss a beat. He rushed to you, large palm slamming flat against the wooden door. "We worked at the same radio station! Your bitch of a friend Elaine and her parents took you in after your pill-addict parents abandoned you on your eleventh birthday!"

You let out a sharp gasp as he hovered over you. Alastor couldn't read your expression, with your face practically pressing into the wooden door. All he could see was the top of your head as he pushed his chest into your rigid back. His arm was outstretched, keeping the door shut and caging you in entirely.

"It was love at first sight for me! We went dancing for our first date. Did you truly fail to notice how effortlessly we moved along the dancefloor at Charlie's last gathering? It's because deep down, your body remembers every dance we ever shared,"

Alastor flipped you over faster than you could process. Your back was now flush against the sturdy door, his arm still caging you in. He peered down at you as his thumb and index finger from his non-dominant hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Every lingering touch..."

He felt you tremble beneath his intense stare from how his chest now squashed against yours. Alastor's face dipped lower, invading your personal space. He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, breath fanning over your tear-stained cheeks.

"And every kiss..."

Alastor observed you desperately as he pressed his lips against yours. He poured all his love into the shared embrace, hoping it would jumpstart your memory. But instead, you just shoved him away harshly, breaking away from his embrace. Alastor felt his world crumble around him as you wiped his kiss away with the back of your hand.

"You're fucking crazier than I thought!" With Alastor still reeling from the rejection, you took your leave. The sound of the door slamming thundered through his head.

Alastor sunk to his knees. His hands came up to tug at his messy tufts of hair. Allowing the tears to flow freely now that he was completely alone.

Alastor did not think you were capable of hurting him until now.

Alastor yanked at his locks furiously as his cheeks burned brightly in frustration. His knees quivered as his forehead kissed the carpet that was stained with his blood from earlier—when he unintentionally ripped up his palms. Alastor curled in on himself as he wept.

This pain was worse than any other.

But more than anything, his love for you only burned brighter.

As did his determination to have you remember him and the pleasant life you both shared before all was lost.

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz @fokrilove @yourdoorisunlocked @willowshadenox @izakyun @fangirlbitch02 @kyana-chan @aquariaries @sincerely-lorely @maxlynn17 @ivebeenthearchersstuff

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yourtongzhihazel · 2 months

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thoughts on anarchism?

The anarchists I've met IRL, especially while organizing, have been some of the most wonderful comrades and I wouldn't hesitate to work with them again. I'm sure there's many online too who're just like them. I do admire how quickly they are willing to use direct action, even if it's not the best tactic to be used or the only means to an end. Some anarchist ideas, while not necessarily achievable on a large scale, are certainly is very helpful for short term, small scale survival, like mutual aid for example.

Anarchism as an ideology though, I do have strong disagreements with. When I was first dipping my toes into studying political-economy, I had a very brief time where I was following both anarchist and marxist accounts and forums. And often, when I asked the marxists a question about how things would or potentially could work, they could point to real examples as much as they could theoretical ones, and they could point out the pros and cons of their own systems. But when I asked anarchists similar questions, there was generally a kind of hesitancy or wishy-washiness or vagueness which I really didn't get from the marxists. As a poc, I remember a black man had asked anarchists what the solution to a group of racist factory workers voting him out of their work force was and no one had any answers beyond, "well at that stage you really wouldn't expect racism on that level". But the marxists would say racism is a social ill that takes time to combat, even after the revolution thus the proletarian state exists to ensure cases like that are investigated and corrected. A more poignant example would be like the Chinese trans woman who sued her former place of work for firing her for being trans and the state sided with and supported her rights. In some ways, I think I was always inevitably going to go down the marxist route given my family background, but that's not to say I didn't give anarchism a fair shot in the beginning.

More theoretically, the roots of anarchism has always been deeply entwined with petite bourgeois ideology. Similar to liberalism, it supposes that the liberation of the collective comes from the liberation of the self. That's not to say anarchists are liberals (well, actual anarchists anyway), but rather, has been influenced by a deeply individualistic ideology like liberalism. The reason we marxists tend to call anarchists idealists can mainly stem from our biggest disagreement, which is the utilization of the state. It's unreasonable to destroy the greatest tool a class has in the class war once that class gets its hands on it, especially since the bourgeoisie have no qualms about using it as a bludgeon against the proletariat. The state has always been used as a mediator for class warfare and whichever class controls it controls the arbitration on class conflict. Like it or not, revolution, just like the construction of socialism, will come at different times with different arising conditions for every country. It's simply not enough to rely on hopes of either a total revolution or to defend your own revolution without the tools provided by a state. After the October Revolution, the nascent USSR was invaded by over 20 foreign countries and they threw them all out. During the second world war, more than 4 million fascists were killed on the eastern front and the Red Army marched into Berlin in the end. Both feats would be impossible without strong state apparatuses. There's more to it than just this, of course. If you want, you can read a (admittedly, pretty scathing) critique by J.V. Stalin, Anarchism or Socialism?, for some more detailed information.

My last point is that in many online spaces, there's no doubt a big overlap between radlibs and anarchism or at the very least, anarchist aesthetics. I can't tell you how many times I've been called some slur or 'tankie' or some variation of the two by someone presenting themselves to be anarchist who then turn around and say the most unbelievably liberal talking points. I've now come to realize that the reason for this overlap is two-fold. The first is that in liberal democracies, where individualism is extremely strong and thus anarchism, as a more individualistic ideology, appeals more to radlibs. The second is that anarchism is very easily marketable, even more so than marxism. These two kind of go hand-in-hand as well.

In the west and usamerica in particular, we don't have much of a choice in regards to who we side with and I would actually take an anarchist comrade over the "queering the MIC" libs in the DSA or whatever. I'll still jest about about anarchism tho.

#hazel's press releases

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

The Reid family live in the trailer opposite Eddie and Wayne’s. They’re a pleasant bunch, sure, but more importantly, they always give Eddie a freshly cooked burger on the Fourth of July, which he readily accepts—why would he waste his time on overpriced fair food when he could get it on his own doorstep for free?

Tonight’s burger is more than a little on the charred side.

It’s no big deal to Eddie (that’s how he prefers it, really), and he gets that you really have to keep an eye on some of those portable grills—otherwise you’ll end up with incinerated chunks of meat in the blink of an eye. But even so, it’s not like Matthew Reid to be so distracted.

“Wayne got the night off?” Matthew asks.

He keeps glancing over his shoulder towards his home, almost misses Eddie nodding. He puts another singed burger on a bun, then places it on Eddie’s plate.

“Thanks,” Eddie says. “Uh, I’ve got some sparklers kicking around, y’know, if the kid wants to…”

He makes it sound more of a happenstance than it had been: yes, he’s had a decent run of orders from seniors and recent graduates, all wanting to let off some steam at the county fair; money is a damn sight better than it had been.

But the truth is that Eddie had been saving up anyway, would’ve bought the sparklers even if funds were tight.

It’s become a little tradition at this point: making his own annual ‘firework show’ with the Reid’s son.

Eddie’s known Daniel since the kid was six years old—he’s fourteen now, still has a bright-eyed naivety that Eddie hopes Hawkins High doesn’t completely stamp out.

He’s got a shock of blonde curls and a gap tooth, loves swimming so much there’s a running joke in the town that he’s part dolphin, what with the amount of time he spends at the community pool.

When his parents had heard that Eddie was repeating senior year yet again, instead of going for the usual commiserations or ‘helpful advice’ angle, they just quipped that it would be good for their son to see a familiar face at high school.

To be honest, Eddie can’t see Daniel needing a familiar face all that much; he imagines that after the typical first year nerves have come and gone, the kid will settle in quite comfortably, that he’ll be on the swim team by October.

At the mention of sparklers, Matthew’s face falls. He looks back to his trailer again and says, “Ah, m’sorry Eddie, couldn’t get him outta bed. Maybe later?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Eddie leaves him to it—if they were closer, perhaps he could’ve encouraged Daniel outside, made a difference somehow. But he just knows the family with a distant kind of friendliness—a shouted, “Morning!” when he’s running late, or a wave at the end of a long school day, their lives only overlapping briefly.

He goes inside to give Wayne his burger, so when it happens, he almost misses it.

He’s pouring himself a glass of water when he hears Louise Reid shouting indistinctly. She’s not usually one to argue, although Eddie’s noticed that she’s seemed tetchy lately—only yesterday, he’d been woken up by the sound of an almighty row that, as far as he could tell, was just about misplacing a bottle of bleach.

By the time he’s out on his porch, he’s just in time to see the back of Daniel as he heads out of the trailer park. It doesn’t exactly look like he’ll stop for anyone.

Louise is watching him go, her lips a thin line.

“Just let him cool off, darlin’,” Matthew says.

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do with him. That’s—that’s not normal, I don’t know what the hell’s going on in his head—”

”He’s a kid, Lou, he’s just acting up, that’s all. He’ll grow out of it.”

Louise sighs exasperatedly. When she shuts the front door, she does it with such force that it just bounces back open again. Neither she nor her husband fix it.

Eddie reckons that he’ll time it: fifteen minutes, give or take, and Daniel will be back. Ten minutes more, and he’ll have made up with his mom, before sheepishly asking Eddie for a sparkler.

Eddie’s left counting for much longer than fifteen minutes.

Matthew walks down the road leading up to the park’s entrance, over and over again. Comes back and shouts into his trailer, maybe a little frantically, that he can’t find Daniel, that maybe he’s gone to one of his friend’s places.

Eddie hears Louise start up a round of phone calls. A knot forms in his stomach as each one ends the same way. Call me if you hear anything.

It gets darker. Wayne heads out to the woods with Matthew, flashlights in hand, and it reminds Eddie of when they’d done the same not all that long ago, when Will Byers went missing.

The knot in his stomach grows. Tightens.

Wayne returns with a shake of the head. Eddie makes coffee just for something to do.

“They reckon he hitched a ride somewhere.”

Eddie scoffs. “Where the hell’s he gonna go, Wayne? Chicago?”

They drink their coffee on the porch. The Reid’s door is still left open, so when the phone rings again, it sounds as loud as a gunshot.

Someone picks up.

A scream.

“Wayne,” Eddie whispers. He feels suddenly desperate.

Wayne’s face is white. “Stay here, Ed.”

And then he’s running over to the Reid’s.

Eddie shouldn’t get closer. Shouldn’t look. But he does.

He tiptoes across the grass, just close enough so he can see…

Louise is on the floor. She’s clinging onto the wall phone, the cord stretched to breaking point, and Wayne’s talking to her, too softly for Eddie to make out; he gets down on his knees and puts an arm around her.

Her scream turns into wailing, then guttural sobs.

Eddie staggers backwards.

A flashlight being dropped on concrete. Matthew running inside.

“Lou? Lou! Jesus, what’s—”

Eddie looks away.

He goes back home, tries to shut out the noise. No matter how loudly he plays music, he can still hear them.

Eventually Wayne returns; he doesn’t say anything, just switches Eddie’s music off and puts on the radio.

There’s names being read out. Daniel is one of them.

Eddie sits out on the roof that night. He lights a sparkler, thinks about writing Daniel’s name in the sky, and then is immediately furious at himself for the thought. The kid should be here to do it himself.

When he eventually falls asleep, it’s to the memory of a sparkler burning the back of his eyelids.

A few days pass in what feels like one slow blink.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself. He ends up just wandering down town—it’s ghostly quiet here, has been so ever since the mall opened.

It’s overcast, as if the tragedy has made summer die quicker. That doesn’t stop Eddie’s skin from itching.

There’s a small diner near where Radio Shack once existed; it’s a hole in the wall, still somehow in business.

Eddie doesn’t know why he goes in. He hasn’t even brought his wallet.

All he knows is that he’s suddenly inside, and the place is absolutely dead, and the only person sat at a booth is—

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes. “What happened to your face?”

Steve Harrington stares back at him, looks decidedly unimpressed. There’s a basket of fries in front of him, and he’s presumably going for the ‘stoic silence’ route, because he picks up a fry, goes to eat it, and immediately winces. No fucking wonder, too; it’s a miracle he can even try and eat anything through that busted lip.

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, doubt something hot with salt was the best choice, Harrington, considering uh,” he waves a hand in front of his face, “everything.”

Steve frowns. “I just wanted them,” he says, on the edge of petulant, and Eddie wonders if he also ended up here by chance; if his skin is itching, too.

“Hang on,” Eddie says.

At least he has something to do now.

He asks for a cup of ice at the counter, wraps up some cubes inside a bunch of paper towels. He brings it back to Steve, who’s watching him in faint surprise.

“Uh. Thanks, Munson.”

Eddie shrugs.

Steve takes the bundle of towels, pressing them to his lips with a small hiss. He nods for Eddie to sit opposite him.

It’s a whole lot, up close: one of Steve’s eyes is heavily swollen, and along with the busted lip, his face is a mess of fresh bruises that must ache something fierce.

“You can ask,” Steve says, mumbled from talking behind the ice. He sounds resigned, like he’s one step away from adding everyone else does.

“All right.” Eddie crosses his arms. “What happened?”

“I worked at the mall. Broken down elevator.” Steve slams his hand down on the table. “It dropped.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie mutters.

But his mind is already elsewhere.

Steve’s unaffected eye narrows. Shit. He’s on to him.

“What’s eating you, Munson?”

“It’s just…” Eddie sighs, leans forward. “So a fire broke out. Like, after closing? But people were still inside.”

Steve doesn’t blink. “You ever worked in retail? People just hang around for no reason.”

“Sure, but—but—” Eddie feels a sudden urge to tug on his hair in frustration. “But he wouldn’t do that, he’d…”

Steve sets down the paper towels. “Who wouldn’t?” he says quietly.

Eddie tells him.

Steve listens in silence. He shifts in his seat when Eddie’s done and says, almost gently, “It sounds like he went to—”

“No, he hated the mall,” Eddie says vehemently. “Dragged his feet when his folks took him to the opening. He wouldn’t—he’d—I don’t know! All of it, it’s—”

“Crazy,” Steve finishes. He looks down. “Yeah. I know.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, man. And, like, that family never fought, but the day before it—his mom was biting his head off over, like, losing some bleach or something stupid like—woah, Jesus, you okay?”

Because Steve suddenly looks like he might be sick. He swallows, breathes in and out cautiously.

“I’m fine.”

Eddie pauses. “Okay,” he says, uncertain. When Steve looks a little less pale, he goes on; he can’t stop himself. “I just—what if—did you, um. Did you see him?”

“No,” Steve says slowly. “But Eddie,” he says, and for some reason, he almost sounds like he’s pleading, “he was there.”

“How do you know? How does anyone—you know, like Will Byers, everyone thought… And then he…”

“It’s not always like that,” Steve says, sounds both sad and bitter. “Some people just stay dead.”

It’s a lousy rebuttal, in Eddie’s opinion, but for some reason it hits him anyway, leaves him abruptly exhausted. He runs a hand over his face.

“Yeah.” He steps out of the booth. “See you around, Harrington.”

“Wait.” Steve gets up too, with slow ginger movements. His fries remain untouched. “If I brought my car, I’d have given you a ride home, but…”

“Don’t think you’re in any condition to be driving,” Eddie says.

Steve gives a tiny shrug with one shoulder. “You wanna get the bus?”

“I didn’t bring any money.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get your ticket. I’m just gonna ride all the stops anyway.”

And it’s an unexpectedly comforting thought, that Steve is also at a loss for what to do.

They go to the back of the bus, sit in silence for the first couple of stops. Steve turns from where he’s been looking out the window and says, “Are you still, y’know, doing your thing?”

Eddie’s used to that being a euphemism for “Are you still selling?” But then he sees that Steve is miming a dice being thrown, and he’s momentarily surprised into a half-smile.

“Yeah. Will be, when school starts up again.”

He’d typically be using the summer as time to work on a new campaign, but that had gone out of his head with… everything.

They’re nearly at Forest Hills when Steve speaks again.

“I… I knew him. Not like you did, but I—I used to be a lifeguard, and his butterfly was phenomenal, I’d get the stopwatch out sometimes. There was a group of us, we worked on rotation, we’d call him part—”

“Dolphin,” Eddie says. “Yeah. That’s right.”

He feels his bottom lip threaten to go. Stupid. He rubs the feeling out with the tips of his fingers, digging in harshly.

It’ll be his stop soon. He stands up to make his way to the front, doesn’t expect Steve to rise with him, but he does. His breathing is suspiciously light; Eddie suspects he’s got some broken ribs to go with the pummelled face.

“Eddie,” he says, and even though he’s keeping his balance perfectly well, his hand brushes Eddie’s wrist anyway.

It’s not enough to chase away the itch in Eddie’s skin. But for a fleeting second, it helps. It helps.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “It sucks to lose someone.”

It’s a platitude, but there’s feeling behind it. Weight.

Eddie wants to say that he didn’t lose anyone, that the thought would be a disservice to Daniel’s parents, but…

It’s like Steve’s words give him permission to feel it. Just for now.

“Thanks,” he says tightly. On the last step before he exits, he turns and says, “Rest up, Harrington.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says. “I’ll be here for hours.”

It’s said like it’s a joke, but Eddie thinks he means it.

Steve’s halfway back to his seat when the bus turns back onto the road, but he manages to wave just before he disappears from view.

Eddie starts the short walk home.

The Reid’s trailer is dark, a For Sale sign placed in front of it. Eddie hadn’t even known they were leaving, must have missed it in the haze of the last few days.

He gets it; if he were in their shoes, he doesn’t know if he could have stayed either. Everything would be a reminder of their son—the places he’d go, where he should be.

But he almost wishes that they were still here, so he could try and stumble his way through telling them Steve Harrington knew your son. He’ll remember him, too.

He doesn’t know if that would’ve been a comfort or not. He doesn’t know.

People come and go. Steve won’t be on that bus forever—he’ll go home eventually. July will become August will become…

Eddie lets himself in and collapses onto his bed. There’s still a prickle of wrongness in his skin, but he can’t untangle it. There’s nothing to make sense of.

He finds one of his journals. There’s some notes he made for a future campaign only last month. Feels like a lifetime ago.

He ignores the remaining unlit sparklers left in a corner of his room. Starts to write.

He can control this world, at least.

#eddie being just on the periphery of s3 events #eddie munson fic #eddie and wayne munson #pre s4 meetings how I love you #pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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koolades-world · 1 month

Note

hiii i was wondering if you could write abt an asian mc ? with the brothers or the dateables i don't mind! i just think it would be funny to see yk asian mc who's a high achiever (so even at RAD when they know nothing abt magic they'll try to score high), always take off their shoes before entering a place (entering a place with shoes is forbidden !!), always cook rice or stuff from their country when on cooking duties ("wdym we already ate that when it was my turn last time?"), will make you special herbal tea if you're sick (first time i suggested to make tea for my ill white friend they laughed :( ), tells you to eat more and in the same fashion, whose love language is giving you food, etc... bonus point if mc swears in their mother tongue. And if the MC was living in their native country before going to the devildom, their ability to just nap anywhere as if it's normal.

As someone who grew up in an asian household it's just regular to me but i can picture the face Lucifer would make if the first time mc enter Dia's castle they take off their shoes casually or like MC stuffing Beel's mouth with food as if he just didn't swallow the biggest mouthful of udon ever saying "come on Beel you need food, you need strength to play Fangol"

For the nap thing i was thinking about my relatives who take nap on their wooden bad or just the floor during summer (cause its fresh yk). My grandma always said a hard bed is good for the back lol

Anyway no pressure!! Have a nice day and take care !

hi!! yes of course :)

i'm a different flavor of asian but some of the culture overlaps so this was fun to write! haha the amount of times my grandma has urged me to eat more is hard to count. oh and the amount of tea i drank when we went to visit. i'll never forget watching her make the tea because it was a whole experience

i'm half indian and someone actually requested an indian mc so that will be out tomorrow because doing these requests back to back easiest for me!

enjoy <3

Asian Mc

Lucifer

you're ALWAYS on him for the amount of coffee he drinks

you also always make sure he takes a break to eat dinner because he needs to eat in order to continue his work

despite how bothered he might seem sometimes, he really does value what you do for him

plus, you not only keep yourself in line, sometimes you do his brothers for him too. thanks on his behalf!

Mammon

once you grow closer, he's asking you to teach him swear words so he can cuss out lucifer

if you don’t, well, he’ll just pick them up when you swear and hope he can figure out what it means haha

if you want, feed him random words, or even compliments so when lucifer hears them, he'll just be confused haha

despite the fact that he's the demon, maybe you can help him in class

Levi

when he first meets you, he'd not sure what to expect

however he quickly learns you're the best at everything you do

this includes video games and everything of that manner

he's got competition now, but he has no clue how you got so good considering it was probably your first time at all of the games you've tried

Satan

he's impressed by your work ethic and desire to achieve

you got dropped in a totally new environment and instead of struggling to adjust like he predicted, you bounced back almost immediately and were at the top of your class like it was nothing!

he tried to ask you once why you seemed so determine to get the best grade and never asked again after the look you gave him

something the two of you can bond over, though, is tea! he can often be seen with a cup of tea so that's an easy conversation starter between the two of you if not homework instead

Asmo

while initially he thought you two might not get along, you actually do quite well

he's huge on no shoes in the house and especially in his room

after all, he wants to avoid bringing as many outside germs into his room as possible

can and will ask you to teach him how you make your special herbal teas because he hates being sick and genuinely just wants to know

Beel

he falls in love with your rice cooker

rice that easy and that quick? sign him up! if he didn't already love rice you've put him on it

he doesn't think he could ever part with you and your wonderful cooking

even if you do cook the same thing every time it's your turn, he will inhale it because not only is it delicious, but you're an amazing cook

Belphie

even he's impressed by your ability to fall asleep anywhere

at least he's always with his pillow and maybe a blanket but he's seen you just curled up on the porch waiting for someone to get home

but that sighting was rare, because he felt like he always saw you doing something

however he really appreciated all the little things you did for him, such as making his bed

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me beel #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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am-i-interrupting · 3 months

Note

do you mind if i ask for a bimbo gn!reader who thinks they have an unrequited crush on vox all the while being oblivious of vox's own attempt at flirting, please?

Daft Dolls

All that training with Velvette about how not to just pace but run in high heels really did pay off. Not only was it a valuable tool to have in Hell of all places, it was also just pretty damn useful to know in general.

You weren’t running from loan sharks. No, you were running towards a specific hotel. You weren’t in trouble. Far from it. You were excited. You could not wait to see the look on his face.

The doors were slammed open as you barged in. You looked across the lobby of the hotel.

Vaguely you registered other people (a man dressed in red who just appeared out of thin air) but your eyes zoned in on the pink clad spider at the bar.

“The fuck you doing here, toots?”

“I got you out of work!”

Your voices overlapped. Angel Dust looked at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“I got you out of work,” you repeated as you walked towards him, the door closing behind you. “Well, not work but work work. You know, Valentino work. I know it’s not what you wanted but being on set with me is better than being on set with Valentino, right? At least, that’s what I was thinking ‘cause when I went to talk to him about it he was mad. Like mad mad. He threw bottle of rosé at me.”

“Are you okay?” Angel asked.

You batted his hands away from you. “I’m fine. It’s no big deal. He has shit aim anyway. He missed but with the help of Vox I was able to get you off of Val’s set and onto mine!”

Angel Dust just stared at you, absolutely silent.

As he processed what you said, a blonde woman came up beside you. “Um, hi, I’m Charlie. You’re one of Angel’s friends, I guess? It’s so nice to meet you.”

You took her outstretched hand (it was really soft) and shook it. “Nice to meet you too! Angel’s told me about you. I’m—“

“Vox helped you?” Angel asked, coming out of his stupor. “Like TV head Vox? Overlord Vox? That Vox? He helped you get me out of work?”

“Yeah,” you said shaking your head. “He was already up there with Val. I kind of just barged in. I wasn’t thinking. That was probably a stupid thing to do but you were on the news and then you were messaging me all freaked out about what Val was gonna do because you were on the news so I just kind of went up there to talk about it and anyway. Yeah, why?”

He downed the glass that was on the bar beside him. “You’re so oblivious sometimes,” he said.

“What?!”

He pointed a finger at you. “You call me at least once every two weeks and moan and groan about how—“

You clasped your hands over his mouth. “Can we not ta— Ew! Angel!” You yanked your hands back, now covered in his saliva. “Gross!”

He smirked at you and leaned in close, “Just making sure you’re prepared for that hand job he’s gonna get.”

You pushed his shoulder and he pushed you back. This led to you both lightly hitting each other with no real intent to harm one another.

That was until a different woman’s voice sounded through the room, “What the fuck is going on?”

The both of you stopped and turned towards her. Grey skin, white hair, orange eyes, she was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but say as much.

She looked completely thrown off by your blatant statement meanwhile Angel threw his head back with a laugh and Charlie looked over at her with a huge smile.

“Vaggie,” Charlie said in a sing-song voice.

“No,” the woman (Vaggie) immediately responded with. “Absolutely not.”

She turned around and started walking away. “Sorry,” Charlie said before moving to follow her. “But they’d be perfect for the Hotel!”

“No, we’re not having two Angel Dusts,” Vaggie said.

“But, Vaggie,” Charlie’s voice then grew too distant to hear.

Angel waited a moment but then he turned to you again. “You really got me out of work?” he asked, voice so close to sounding fragile.

“Course I did,” you told him. You grabbed his hand. “Your my friend, Angie.” You let go. “I need to go back though. I’m on my lunch break and it’s probably almost over. I just got so excited, I had to come tell you in person.”

Angel pulled you in for a hug and squeezed you with all six arms. “You’re the best, toots.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “Anyway, I gotta go. See ya!”

You blew Angle kissed as you walked backwards to the door. You spun around, prepared to open it when you saw the red clad man from before holding the door open for you.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Of course, my dear,” he said, a radio filter on his voice. “Please, allow me to walk you back. I’d love to thank our mutual friend in person for helping our other mutual friend.”

“You know Vox?”

“Yes, indeed I do, very well, in fact. I’m Alastor. Pleasure to meet you, my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said.

You gave him your name in turn.

The two of you walked together in silence. You did notice as the two of you walked, many people sprinted away which was odd, especially for you.

You were normally approached by people when you were out. They didn’t run away.

See, several years ago youd made a deal with Velvette. You were one of her models and she’d provide you with protection from Hell’s many dangers along with the occasional free clothes as a bonus. Time passed and you and Velvette actually ended up getting along fairly well. She’d put you in her streams, in her posts, she’d hang out with you outside of work. That’s when one day she heard you singing when she invited herself over. A couple days later, you were basically told you were going to make an album. The rest was history.

So, people running from instead of approaching you was different, weird, even strange.

You looked over at your company but he simply wore a smile. You could hear him humming actually, something upbeat and jazzy. You supposed if he wasn’t deterred you shouldn’t be either. Maybe it was just one of those off days in Hell, especially since it was so soon after the extermination.

Eventually you got to the three Vs’ tower. What you didn’t expect was for Vox to immediately teleport to the entryway.

His posture was straight which was normal but it seemed tense. If that wasn’t enough to tip you off the fact that he was still sparking was and his eye strobing definitely was. You followed his gaze to Alastor and found yourself suddenly very cautious of the man.

While Alastor didn’t seem that bad on the surface you’d known Vox longer. You trusted Vox. You more than trusted Vox actually but the point was you took a very lengthy step away from Alastor and toward’s Vox even if he was sparking.

“What marvelous company this one makes,” Alastor said, gesturing to you. “Wouldn’t you say, old friend?”

Vox took a step in front of you. “Get the FUCK out of my territory!” he said.

Alastor’s smile turned into something devious, something knowing, and something very unnerving. He gave a bow and then vanished into the shadows.

Vox placed a hand on your back and guided you inside. “Do not ever go around him again, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you said. Not once in your half a decade in Hell had you ever seen Vox like this.

He sighed. His sparking calmed down and his eyes stopped strobing. “Sorry, just, um, I— he’s— it’s complicated. Just don’t associate with him.”

“Sorry, I was just going to that hotel Angie’s staying at. He insisted on walking me back, that’s all,” you explained.

“It’s— Wait, what? What hotel?”

“The Happy Hotel that Charlie Morningstar started. There was an ad for it on 666 today before Angel’s fight.”

Vox stopped. “Alastor’s back and he’s staying at a hotel run by Lucifer’s daughter?”

Prior to all of the things that happened two days after the extermination, Vox had already said (as what you assumed was a way to placate Valentino) that he would be personally in charge of directing your music video but it seemed like since Alastor he wasn’t letting you out of his sight. That was silly though.

He did come into your apartment in the tower though and just sat on your couch. That was normal though. Vox did that when he was stressed. He said your apartment was less noisy than staying with the other Vs. Whatever the case, you made him dinner last night.

Now it was the next day and Velvette was dolling you up as she was prone to do. She blended out your lipstick with her finger. Then she put a thick layer of lip gloss on top.

“Pout for me. Perfect. You look pretty, innocent, and fuckable,” she said.

She pulled you out of your chair and to the nearest full length mirror. She was right, as always. She’d given you a very soft blue makeup look for the most part with sharp eyeliner and bold pink and black lips. She had dressed you in a pastel pink cropped sweater, a matching miniskirt with a high pastel blue g-string, and tall white boots. She’d outdone herself but she always did.

She ushered you out of the dressing room after you both got done gawking at yourself and to the set. There you found Angel in a very similar get up but with the pinks and blues reversed.

“You ready to blow this shoot?” Angel asked,

“Wrong kind of shoot for a blow,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes with a smile. One hand of his went around your shoulders. The other went around the waist.

You both went to set and chatted while you waited for Vox to arrive.

It was only a few minutes before he was walking through the doors, a tray of three cups in his hands. He set it down on a nearby table. Velvette went to grab one but he cut her off, taking it instead. You caught sight of her offended expression before it morphed into a done but knowing look. One hand on her hip while the other plucked a different cup off the tray,

Vox turned, now two cup in hand. He caught sight of you and raised an eyebrow. Velvette doubled over laughing. You couldn’t help but wander why. It was too loud to hear what they were saying but it didn’t look like either of them had moved their lips.

Maybe one of Vox’s soundboard noises went off. That was known to happen occasionally but you couldn’t think of why.

You didn’t really get the chance to think of any reasons though as seconds later Vox was in front of you. He extended the hand holding the cup he’d taken from Velvette.

“You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks, Velvette’s work,” you explained, taking the cup from him. You hummed to yourself when you were met with your favorite drink.

“I’m sure that’s not all true,” he said.

You were too busy to notice how his eyes lingered on your face but Angel did. Throughout the next few weeks Angel noticed a lot.

He’d never really seen you and Vox interact before. He would just hear stories from you afterwards and holy fuck. You had to be dense to think this man wasn’t absolutely obsessed with you.

Vox brought you your favorite drink every single day. He complimented you every single day. He would correct and critique everyone else in a very detached way at best and frustrated way more often than not. But with you, he was calm, gentle almost. He took your ideas and incorporated them. He would go out of his way to physically correct your poses or guide you through specific motions. Once you mentioned off handedly that your feet were hurting and there was an early lunch break where he didn’t even eat, he massaged your feet for you.

When Angel brought this up, however, he was brushed off.

“He brought Velvette a drink too.” Yeah, one she complained tasted like piss.

“He does that all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Angel had never heard Vox compliment anyone in his nearly seventy years in Hell.

“He just knows me better, that’s all.” Not once had Angel ever seen Vox being even half as kind to Velvette or Valentino.

“I’m sure he does that with other people’s ideas.” Angel remembered being told multiple iterations of the same story with different people, all because they did something as small as suggest different shoes for someone to walk in because it was too loud.

“It’s probably just easier to do that than explain. He knows I’m used to being puppeted around by Vel.” He spent five minutes explaining to Angel what to do instead of just moving his four arms into position.

“Do you want me to give you a foot massage, Angie? All you have to do is ask.” Well, yes, but that wasn’t the point!

Angel watched as Vox laughed at something you said. “Fucking dumbass,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed a yogurt off the snack bar.

“I know, right?” Velvette said, scaring the shit out of him in the process. “You think this is bad? Ugh, imagine being surrounded by it all the time and Voxy’s just as bad and there’s no escaping him. I have to put up with his bitch ass whining all the time. It’s exhausting.”

Angel relaxed enough to lean against the wall. “Kind of makes you want to press them together like dolls and make them kiss, don’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah. . . Wait a minute! That’s it!” Velvette slapped Angel’s shoulder.

She whipped out her phone and started typing frantically. Her legs started kicking from where they dangled over the edge of the snack bar.

Angel peeled open the yogurt and tried to lean to have a look at what she was typing. She was too fast though and shut off her phone with a satisfied smirk.

Her eyes were glued to the pair of you. You pulled out your phone and saw a message from her. You looked over at her with furrowed brows. She just smiled at you manically. You shook your head but gave her a thumbs up.

When lunch break was supposed to be over, Velvette clapped her hands together loud enough it echoed through the room. “Listen up, sluts!” she said, taking control over the room.

You watched as she and Vox had a back and forth which ended with Vox confused on the set couch in a new outfit Velvette poofed on him. It wasn’t anything too far out of his usual style but it was a change. It was simple black slacks and a white button up shirt but the sleeves were rolled past his forearms and several of the buttons were undone. He looked. . . You were staring that’s for sure.

The music came on and you began lip singing. You put your hands on either side of his head. You threw your leg on the other side of his lap and straddled him. You moved your body up and down, not grinding on him due to not sitting on him but it was a close thing. Your face was right in front of his. You tried to hold eye contact with him but for some reason his eyes kept darting down.

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath.

Then an arm was wrapped around your hips forcing you down and a hand was in your hair guiding your head closer to his. Your lips met his and static filled your entire body. His tongue was caressing your mouth, making you feel like you had a mouth full of pop rocks.

You moaned when he flipped you so your back was pressed against the couch. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel him through his pants.

“Fuck the music video,” he said against your lips. “How would you feel about filming a porno instead?”

“Mmm, kinky,” Angel said.

“I am so sending this to ‘Tino,” Velvette said.

#vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader

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goblinontour · 6 months

Text

To The First Girl Who Lit Him A Flame (Part 1)

you give fetus al his first blowjob

warnings: smut, oral (m receiving), alcohol, idk that’s pretty much it

word count: 3.6k

you were never into big parties, instead you preferred just hanging out with your closest ones and getting drunk, making fools of yourselves. but your friends insisted you needed to come tonight. apparently one of the guys from school had an empty house and decided to let everyone in, no matter if he knew them or not.

so that’s how you found yourself in his kitchen pouring yourself another drink of some sort, mainly just vodka to be fair. if you’re here and there are free drinks might as well make the most of it. the house was loud, people everywhere, some you haven’t ever seen.

after you fixed yourself that drink you decided to look for your friends but they were nowhere to be found. not in the back garden, not in the house, not one of them. that made you nervous. you didn’t like talking to people you didn’t know that well. so you just went back to the small kitchen and luckily nobody was in there. you just slumped down on the floor, sitting against one of the cabinets, downing what you had in that cup, honestly wishing you didn’t come here at all. and your luck of being alone soon ran out because you heard some steps getting closer and eventually the door opened and you cursed to yourself.

it was alex. alex turner. you don’t know him that well really. he’s a year younger than you so friend groups didn’t overlap much. but you’ve always thought he was cute. you’ve both been going to the same school for some years so you’ve seen him around, you know he’s only been getting cuter and cuter as time went by. the fact that he could play guitar made him even more of a catch.

he was talking to someone as he entered the room but when he looked around and saw you on the floor his face went a bit red. he was very shy, but the alcohol gave him a bit more courage to be able to talk to you.

“hi y/n, you doing alright?” he was scratching his head, his shaggy hair getting all messed, sticking up in places.

“yep, just lost my friends, you?”

“fine, wanted to grab a beer, you want a drink? your cup’s empty.” he’s had the biggest crush on you for ages and this was his chance. tonight or never.

“oh, uhm…yeah, sure, whatever you’re having”

ugh, why are you talking like that, you think to yourself, getting all nervous around him. this is the most you two have ever talked. you shouldn’t be nervous, you were pretty tipsy at this point, drinking usually made you feel more at ease in times like this, so why was he making you feel like that? he seemed a bit nervous too. you brushed it off as just being because of the whole situation, being left alone and being pretty much strangers stuck at this party. well, you felt stuck, don’t know about him, he seemed in pretty good spirits though.

he grabbed two beers from the fridge and cracked them open. he leaned down to you so you could take it, and your fingers brushed against his for a second, sending shivers through your body. you got stuck for a moment, hand out to the bottle but not actually grabbing it from him. that’s until he snapped you out of it by asking “mind if i stay?” with a stupid cute smile on his face.

you shook your head, letting him know it’s alright. you weren’t going to kick him out anyway, not like it was your house. you patted the space on the floor next to you and he sat down as well, spreading his legs out in front of him and crossing them.

the two of you got talking, he was actually really nice, and smarter than you’d expect, especially considering he was younger than you. a year isn’t much but usually guys were dumber, except he wasn’t. he had his way with words and the way he gestured with his hands while he talked, and how he would do it all with a smile on his face. you didn’t realise it but you zoned out and just kept staring at him.

“you’re really pretty”

did you just say that out loud?

“is that right?” he said, turning away from you, focusing on the pattern of the tiles to calm himself down. was this really happening? he didn’t want to be cocky with the way he blurted out that response, just surprised you said that. he didn’t consider himself pretty, not really.

you already said it, no way to take it back, so you brought your hand up to his hair and started messing it up with your fingers. it was really soft.

“you are.”

“you’re really pretty too” smiling to himself as he said it, and after saying that he looked back at you, his eyes flicking in between yours and your lips, as if trying to decide if he should go for it or not. but he did. he grabbed you by the jaw softly, guiding your face towards his, and he kissed you. once your lips touched you couldn’t help yourself. you brought him even closer to you, your hand still in his hair, pulling slightly on it. your tongue soon poked at his lips, begging to taste him, and he complied, deepening the kiss filled with the bitterness of beer and whatever mix of liquor you’d both been consuming, but it was also sweet. he was sweet.

you intertwined one of your legs with his own, and he guided you to sit on his lap. you put your hands on his face, holding him in place as if he was going to run away. you couldn’t let that happen, not now. his hands found their place on your hips, barely touching you, like he was scared of doing something wrong. so you took the lead and moved them to your ass. you broke the mess of a makeout session you were having to say “you can touch me you know?” moving your lips to his neck, leaving a chaste kiss there. as you did that you felt his hands squeeze your ass over your jeans. god they were huge. but he quickly stopped himself. “it’s alright alex, i like it”. he was so nervous, you felt it.

you also felt him starting to get hard under you as you kept leaving wet kisses on his neck and playing the hair at the back of his head. you bit down on the sensitive skin, not too hard, just a bit, you were getting horny as well. his hips bucked at that and he immediately raised his hands to his face to cover up.

“sorry, fuck, i didn’t mean to do that, ‘m so sorry”. you put your hands over his own and pushed them to the sides to reveal his face. he was so red, his lips puffy and shiny from the remnants of the lipgloss you were wearing. you probably looked just about the same.

“don’t be sorry. it’s okay”

you pushed yourself down on him, grinding slowly. the pressure from his erection digging through his jeans making the seam of your own rub against your pussy in just the perfect spot felt delicious. though you kinda wish you’d worn a skirt so you could feel him directly through your underwear.

your moment got interrupted when some guys walked into the room. you paid no attention to them, didn’t care who they were or the fact that they just walked in on you straddling alex’s lap. they were too drunk to remember it in the morning anyway.

you got up from his lap and put your hand out to help him up from the floor. you smirked to yourself when you saw how he tried so hard to cover his hard on.

“come on.” you said to him, leading him to the bathroom down the hall.

thank god it was free.

you pushed him inside the room and quickly locked the door behind you. maybe you were a bit too eager cause when you locked him in between your arms you made him hit his head against the door. nothing that couldn’t be fixed with another kiss, through which you could feel him smile. his lips felt so soft against your own, and he kissed you perfectly, not too much tongue, perfect. it’s like you fit together just right and this was meant to be, as cliché as it sounds.

you put one of your legs between his and raised it slightly, rubbing your thigh against his crotch, making a whimper find its way out from his mouth, going straight to your core.

“pretty boy makes pretty sounds as well” the moan he was about to let out was stopped however by you biting his bottom lip.

you slipped one of your hands in between your bodies to palm him over his jeans. he was rock hard at this point, his pants stretched to the limit.

“fuuuck y/n” the way he said your name, his voice trembling…god. you were soaked. you applied more pressure, squeezing his bulge. he was about to cum in his pants just then just from that so he stopped you, his voice all breathy and broken by his panting.

“wait, wait, please”

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing…it’s just that…uhmmm…” he was struggling to get his words out, not knowing how you would take what he was about to say.

“what is it? tell me” you didn’t know if he didn’t want to go through with it or what.

“it’s just…i’ve never…you know…”

really? alex turner, the guy in a band that the girls in school were all talking about? that wasn’t a turn off for you at all though, just made it even more exciting. you weren’t some sex guru either. you’d only been with one guy before.

he thought he ruined everything just then “fuck my life, i shouldn’t have said that” looking up, not having the courage to look you in the eye and see your reaction.

you wanted to reassure him so he wouldn’t go all shy on you, so you started playing with his hair again, he seemed to like that.

“what’s the furthest you’ve gone?” you asked, genuinely curious as to what he meant by ‘never’.

“well umm…this i guess, right now, us”

“that’s alright alex” you kissed him again, to show him you meant what you said. “do you want us to stop?”

“only if you want to stop” he was the sweetest thing ever.

“well, i don’t”

you kissed him again, for some reason knowing you would be the first to touch him was turning you on so much, you wanted to make this good for him. your kisses trailed down to his jaw, and lower, down his neck, and to his collarbone. when you got there he moaned. looks like you found his sweet spot. you stayed there and left a small love bite, hearing his sweet little noises as you did so. your hand went back to his raging erection, you could feel a slight wet patch already. he was so horny and on the edge he leaked through his jeans.

“can i go down on you?” you asked, your lips still against his skin, the hot breaths that escaped while you talked making him shiver.

“yes please”

‘please’. he’s got manners, this little one.

“you’re cute” you bet he’ll be even cuter with his cock in your mouth. soon enough.

he never had a chance to respond because you slipped your hand under the waistband of his jeans and palmed him again, this time over just his underwear, making him gasp out loud.

soaked. and big. he felt bigger than you’d expect from what he looked like. he had quite a small frame, guess all those other inches went somewhere else.

you got down on your knees and were about to unzip his jeans but you stopped for a sec when you felt his thighs trembling and noticed his hands were shaking. he had them against his stomach, lifting up his shirt slightly, not knowing what to do with them.

“everything okay alex?” you asked, looking up at him and you saw how he looked almost scared, his plump lips parted and his eyes wide watching you.

“just nervous” he mumbled.

“no need to be, i’ll make it good for you, i promise”

“i don’t doubt that” he giggled, making you giggle as well “it’s okay, you can…uhm…you can go on. if you want to, of course”

“i do alex, stop worrying about it” you reassured him, leaving a kiss on the side of the exposed skin of his lower belly, and then another one on the light trail of hair right down the centre leading down from his belly button, your breaths tickling him making another soft whimper escape his mouth.

you finally unzipped his jeans and pulled them down, followed by his underwear, which was stained by a big wet patch.

ginormous would be an understatement to describe him once his dick was free and you saw it all, in all its beauty. as the cold air hit it you saw it twitch. the head was poking, fat and throbbing from how hard he was, still oozing precum, almost dripping but you caught it as you wrapped your hand around him and spread the drops threatening to fall from his slit with your thumb, all over his tip and then down his length. he hissed as you stroked him and pulled at his skin with each of your downstrokes.

you didn’t even give that many blowjobs to your last boyfriend, it wasn’t that fun for you, but now? you had to have alex’s cock in your mouth right then and there.

you were nervous too, you weren’t an expert at this either but you wanted to make it good for him and the alcohol helped you get more confident.

you licked a stripe along the underside of his cock, from the bottom all the way to his tip, and he hissed once more as you wrapped your lips around him and started stimulating him with your tongue, circling it around his head, the salty taste spreading around your mouth. it took all the power he had in him to not cum instantly. you started bobbing your head up and down his cock, at the same time stroking him with one of your hands around the rest you couldn’t quite fit into your mouth just yet. you hollowed your cheeks and slowly started taking more of him. one of his hands found its way to your hair, not controlling your movements, more just looking for a place to steady himself. when you looked up at him you noticed his other other hand went to his mouth and he was biting down on his fingers to stop himself from making too much noise. also to stop himself from coming too soon, not wanting to embarrass himself by lasting 2 seconds. but he couldn’t stop himself from pushing his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into you and hitting the back of your throat, making you instantly gag around him and you pulled back for air.

“i’m so sorry fuck did i hurt you?” you could see the pure panic on his face.

“you didn’t al” you continued to stroke him with your hand and rubbed his thigh softly with your other “you’re just very big, i need to get used to it, i’ve never had anyone this big”

“oh, okay, sorry” he was still a bit concerned.

you can’t help but smile, he was adorable.

“did you just apologise for having a big dick?” you snapped him out of his bubble, making him chuckle. “and let me hear all those noises you got please, i reckon no one’s sober enough to care out there, music’s loud anyway”

“okay” he said but immediately turned into a groan as you took him back into your mouth.

his sounds only got louder and louder as you continued to suck him off, pretty moans and whimpers letting you know you’re doing good.

“fuckkk y/n i’m not gonna last long” as he said that you flattened your tongue, making more space for his thick cock to sink down your hole. your throat had time to get used to it by now, so you were gonna try your best to take him all. you prepared yourself by pulling off once more and taking a deep breath before going down on him again. you were about to gag once his tip brushed the back of your throat but you continued to breathe through your nose until you got it all to sink in.

“oh fuck” he groaned, his voice strained. “that feels so g- good” he couldn’t even get his words out straight, you felt too good, all those new sensations he was experiencing for the first time lighting his whole body on fire. he could feel his heart beating erratically and his breathing was all over the place.

meanwhile you just focused on your breathing, trying not to gag around him with his cock tickling your throat and the hair at the bottom of where your nose was touching him tickling you at the same time.

“i’m- gonna- fuck i’m gonna cum soon” he managed to get those words out before pulling you back by the hair so he wouldn’t shoot his load down your throat, not knowing if that would be okay with you.

manners. cute and considerate. he’s got it all , doesn’t he? oh, and a pretty dick.

“you can cum in my mouth if you want. do you want that?” you asked as you kept stroking him with your hand, not wanting to let the feeling get lost and ruin his quickly approaching orgasm. he just gave you a quiet ‘mhmm’. you wanted to push his limits a little bit.

“how bad do you want it?” you teased while flicking your tongue along his slit, making it even harder for him to say something.

“so bad ughhh please. please let me cum in your mouth.”

you took him in once more, tightly wrapping your lips around him and to push him even further you brought one of your hands and lightly squeezed his balls, pushing him over the edge instantly. his cum started shooting down your throat as you kept your eyes on him, wanting to see his face as he experienced his first orgasm from this, his first from something else other than his own fist.

he couldn’t make himself watch you in return, as much as he would’ve wanted to, he just couldn’t. it was too much, his head was thrown back, eyes rolling so far back only a sliver of white could be seen, and his mouth wide open but no sounds were leaving it, all getting stuck in his throat from the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling. it was so different from anything else he’s ever experienced, not just from the fact that it’s someone’s throat instead of a hand, but because it’s you out of all people, the girl he’s had a crush on for god knows how long was giving him his first blowjob.

he came so much, and it’s not that it tasted bad necessarily, it was better than what you’ve had before, but it was a lot and it was getting stuck in the back of your throat. you felt like you were going to gag if you didn’t pull back so you did, leaving the last few spurts to land on your lips and down your chin. you tried to swallow it but you couldn’t bring yourself to, it was tickling too much so you quickly turned to the toilet that was nearby and spit it out.

you turned back to him, barely holding himself up on his legs, his softening cock resting down one of his thighs. he took a few deep breaths to calm down and tucked himself back into his boxers. you helped him do up his jeans and before you had the chance to get up he got down next to you instead.

he wiped the rest of his cum that was left on your chin and wiped it down on his pants, they were messed up regardless so it didn’t matter anymore. he pressed his forehead against yours, his hair sweaty and sticking to you and he murmured a warm ‘thank you’ followed by a sweet kiss on your lips, and another one on your cheek, and another one, until it felt like he covered your entire face in his little sweet kisses and you scrunched up your face at his show of affection.

“you’re adorable alex” you giggled as you pressed a kiss to his nose as well.

“no, you are.” giving you one last kiss on your lips. “can i return the favour? you were amazing…i wanna make you feel good too. i mean uhm i don’t know what to do exactly but you could teach me.”

tempting.

but you decided against that right now, the sink wasn’t the type you could sit on and you weren’t too keen on laying down on those tiles, you knees were killing you from them.

“maybe another time?” you suggested.

“do you want another time?” he asked genuinely.

“yes, definitely” you said, getting your hands all up in his hair again, fixing the mess of a mop on top of his head for him.

“alright. i’m alone tomorrow night if you wanna come over.”

“eager now, aren’t we?” you joked “yeah, i’d like that, tomorrow.”

“tomorrow.”

a/n: i’m a whore for baby alex and basically everything i write is about sucking his dick lmao i think about it too much (way too much). hope you enjoy, it’s the expanded version of something i’ve had in my notes for months but i wrote half of it freezing my ass off at starbucks so soz if there are any typos.

#alex turner smut #alex turner #alex turner x you #alex turner x reader #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner x y/n #smut #goblinontour

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indigovigilance · 8 months

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When They Became Their Own Side

Can I just say that gif-clipping the scenes to make this meta broke my heart all over again so good job JF, NG, MS & DT.

Anyways.

I'm going to discuss the major contenders for "the scene in which Aziraphale and Crowley became their own side," and then tell you when I think it happened, below the cut:

Identifying the Third Side

By the time you clicked "Keep reading" you probably had a scene in mind. I'm going to predict it was this:

Which is an extremely strong contender, though frankly this entire scene is filled with character-trajectory changing lines (Satan bless you JF), so I'll take it as within-error-limits if you picked anything immediately adjacent to this.

The reasoning behind it is solid: Aziraphale knows, on a spiritual level, that he is not on Heaven's team anymore. He fully expects to go to Hell. He's ready.

But he finds out that he's not going to Hell. Despite Crawley's statement that nothing has to change, we know that everything has changed for Aziraphale. Neither truly a part of Heaven nor or Hell, he now knows that he occupies the liminal third space, a realm that has been home to Crawley for quite some time. Yes, it is lonely, but maybe a little less lonely than it was before, or would have been; where once there was only one, now there are two. By the end of this scene, they both know that they are on the same side, a third side, and the pain of separation that entails. But being and knowing are different things, and I would argue that Aziraphale was on Crowley's side before he realized it, which means we have to go further back.

The Revelation of Confluence

Maybe you thought of this:

...and this scene is a great choice, because as of this moment Aziraphale knows (and Crowley knows he knows) that they have a confluence of goals and morals. Every action in the rest of Book of Job is based on the common understanding and trust relationship they establish in this scene. But again, did they need to know that they were on the same side to be on the same side? Their moral compasses would still have aligned and they would still be working for common purpose even if Aziraphale had not uncovered the ruse. I would still say we could go further back.

Establishing Loyalty

Perhaps, trying to beat me to the punch, you went back so far that you went off the page, so to speak, to Before the Beginning:

A rare but solid choice, and entirely defensible. Aziraphale has just met Crowley and rather than ratting him out or letting him face the very just and deserved consequences that the Almighty would exact upon such a divergent, free-thinking celestial, Aziraphale gives him advice to keep him safe. He is protecting the Starmaker from Heaven, which seems to put him on the Starmaker's side in opposition to Heaven. Aziraphale's first loyalty is to his principles, stretching his proverbial wing over the Starmaker to shield him from the reign of the Almighty, and no, that wasn't a spelling mistake. We see as well that the Starmaker, quite explicitly, puts his principles first. In this way the two are similarly defective (in the sense that they are defectors), but their principles don't strictly overlap here. Neither of them are fully on Heaven's side, but it would be a stretch to say that they are on the same side.

More importantly, the Starmaker isn't really on anyone's side; the Starmaker doesn't even seem to be aware that there are sides! Just a project that would benefit from some suggestions, a fresh point of view. So they certainly aren't on Aziraphale's side. But the fact that Aziraphale has tried to protect them is important, and I will reference it later, so hang onto that thought.

Forming Trust

Maybe you're a real dreamer, and your beautiful brain lighted upon this scene:

Absolutely brilliant, tumblrite, because Aziraphale isn't even going to tell God that he gave away the flaming sword to a pregnant girl, in fact he'll lie about it to every angel he encounters until the end of days.

But he told Crawley.

Aziraphale puts his fate in this demon's hands when he shares this; after all, what's to stop the serpent of Eden from ratting him out and getting him into Big Trouble? But the thought that Crawley might betray him never seems to occur to Aziraphale, and it seems that his trust is well-placed, because as we know, Crawley will never betray this confidence.

Taken in combination with Before the Beginning, Aziraphale has both kept secrets for the Starmaker and entrusted Crawley with his own secret. This bilateral trust bond is the foundation that "our side" will be built upon.

Nonetheless, up on that wall, Aziraphale still wonders if he's done the right thing, and takes reassurance that yes, being an angel and doing the right thing go hand in hand. After this, Aziraphale will continue to make choices that betray his principles, opting to instead follow the Will of God (see: the Flood). He is on Heaven's side, and whatever Crawley may be, it isn't that.

I think we can safely say that as of this moment, Crawley (besides being head over heels in love), who is already on his own side, is ready to welcome Aziraphale into that space with him, but that Aziraphale isn't taking him up on the invitation yet.

So while it's true that they have a unique bond as of this scene, it still isn't a side.

When Aziraphale accepts the invitation to the Third Side

Sure, Crowley has been on Aziraphale's side since the moment he invented heart eyes in the Garden of Eden, but Aziraphale didn't join Crowley's side until this exact moment:

We were all a little too busy being pissed at Gabriel for this line to realize that he single-handedly brought together the greatest power couple above or below the Earth.

We are simply not stopping Hell.

What they do is up to them.

Aziraphale has exhausted all his options appealing to Heaven to save Job's children, and in this moment, he realizes (because Gabriel tells him directly) that if he wants to save them, he's going to have to go behind Heaven's back to do it.

Crawley and Aziraphale aren't even in the same room. But Aziraphale, at this moment, has turned his back on Heaven and joined Crawley's team.

Crawley just doesn't know it yet.

But Aziraphale is about to go down there and tell him:

A few other meta-analysts have written on the topic of equivocation: communicating in deliberately ambiguous ways so that the person across from you understands your meaning and any unseen spectators do not. (I personally learned this term from @cobragardens, in this meta, and @ao3cassandraic's discussion of kayfabe is a closely related topic)

We should interpret the ensuing scene (which deserves a meta all its own, like this one by @majortomyourcurcuitsdead) through that lens. "You don't have to" and "I know you" are all, on their face, harmless statements, but are all equivocation for:

We are on the same side.

Crowley is understandably wary, and isn't about to let Aziraphale know that he's been clocked. But whatever pretense that he was maintaining dissolves right about here:

Circling back to the top, yes, this is the moment that they each know they know. But knowing that they were on the same side was not a necessary condition of being on the same side. Aziraphale, when he made the decision that any further appeal to Heaven was futile, and that he must appeal instead to Crawley for mercy, had already jumped into the liminal with both feet.

Crawley will try to deny it, but they both know what's up:

In Summary

This distinction may not be important, but the theme of sides is so strong that this felt like a topic worth exploring.

The argument that Aziraphale enters and exits the third team is also a very defensible one; he will denounce and then rejoin Crowley across the millennia to come. But the first time he makes the decision that he will work with Crawley to collude against Heaven and Hell occurs at the very moment when Gabriel tells him that that is the only remaining option if he wants to do the right thing.

Which raises the question: was offering Satan a contract to terrorize Job, assigning a morally ambiguous demon to execute it, and sending in a renegade angel to thwart it all part of the Ineffable Plan?

I'll let you decide.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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elmhat · 3 months

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// dsmp rp

The interaction that takes place between Sam and Techno at the start of his prison visit is arguably one of Sam's strangest moments. He seems close to not even letting Techno in.

So, Sam's weird behavior, in order:

TECHNO: Hello. SAM: Technoblade? TECHNO: Hi! Is this the warden? SAM: Yes. TECHNO: Yoo, mister warden, what's up! Can you come out to talk to me? I'm trying to visit this prison! SAM: You're trying to visit the prison? TECHNO: Yeah, man! I mean, I heard everyone else was visiting the prison, and I just— I wanted to be included, y'know. SAM: Okay, yeah. You can go ahead and go through the portal.

At the beginning of this interaction, Sam's tone suggests that he didn't expect to see Techno here. When Techno says he wants to visit the prison, Sam sounds confused and reluctant, but decides to let Techno in anyway, despite no visitors other than Quackity being allowed into the prison at this time.

SAM: Hm. I heard you might come for a visit. [CUT] TECHNO: I'm trying to visit Dream! Can we get that arranged, y'know? I know I didn't call ahead, but, like... SAM: There's— I'm not really letting anyone visit Dream right now.

When Techno enters the prison lobby, Sam implies that he got a warning from someone—which we can assume to be Quackity—that Techno would arrive. This is after Sam acting confused about Techno's arrival just sixty seconds ago. Then, when Techno says he wants to visit Dream, Sam says he's not letting anyone do that, despite already letting Techno in to do exactly that. Which other prisoner did Sam expect him to visit, Connor?

TECHNO: One second, everyone's yelling at me to make you louder on discord. [CUT] TECHNO: So anyways, you said you were gonna let me visit Dream! That's fantastic! *chuckles* SAM: Well, we weren't letting anyone visit Dream. TECHNO: [overlapping] Yo, yo, Sam, mister warden, sir. SAM: [overlapping] Why do you want to visit Dream? TECHNO: Believe me, I know what your concerns are, and don't you worry. I already got my parents to sign the permission slip. I can go on this field trip, alright? *pulls out Quackity's note and hands it to Sam* I got— I got a voucher. SAM: *quietly* Okay. *louder* Well, there's some things we have to do, if you want to enter the prison.

We see Sam's continued reluctance around allowing Techno's visit to take place, right up until he's presented with a "permission slip" from Quackity, at which point Sam hesitantly agrees to it. Even after it's been implied that Sam and Quackity discussed and planned this exact situation beforehand, Sam won't actually honor the agreement until he sees it in writing. This also comes with the implication that Quackity knew that Sam was looking for any reason at all to turn Techno away, and took all the measures he could to prevent that from happening.

The result is that we get a Sam who doesn't seem to have made his mind up yet about what he's going to do. He doesn't want to make Quackity mad, but he also *really* doesn't want to have anything to do with Techno. Could any of this conversation have been an act? To convince Techno that Sam was oblivious to his arrival and therefore had no malicious intentions? Eh, it's possible. But it looks more to me like Sam is trying to wriggle out of whatever arrangement he made with Quackity by playing the ignorance card, not caring how strange his behavior is coming across.

#c!sam #c!quackity #c!techno #dsmp analysis #lore thoughts

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ethanhuntfemmefatale · 24 days

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spent a bit of time today writing out some thoughts on ford as a character and thought it might be fun to put them here. I think ford is a really interesting commentary on heroism and his role in gravity falls is specific and pointed. theres a lot more i COULD get into (the way he and Stan act as foils for example) but here I just want to explore the fundamental ideas of his arc which includes parts of his dynamic with Bill Cipher and Dipper.

I really love the way gf combines the ideas of the lone hero/adventurer (a classic hero trope) with the ideas of the mad scientist (a classic villain trope) to reveal the way they're really based in similar lines of thinking and emotional pitfalls. Ford's isolation & paranoia, his tendency to put his own body on the line, his (relative) willingness to endanger others for his cause...it all points out a neat overlap between the guy who wears all black and carries a gun at his hip and the guy who WOULD inject himself with some kinda substance in the name of Science. I think that's part of why from what I've seen the fandom can be pretty conflicted on Ford--even on a basic design level, he evokes strong and conflicting feelings.

A key moment to me in establishing the ideas of Ford's arc happens at the very beginning of Weirdmageddon--a strange point to choose maybe since it's so late in the show, but I feel like those three episodes beautifully encapsulate Ford's failures and his development. After realizing what's happened, Dipper is desperate to find Mabel and make sure she's all right. Ford tells him, there's time to find her later--right now we have to stop Bill before the weirdness spreads. I love the way that the show presents throwaway moments like this: they're not questioned in the moment, but they stick out to you anyway because they run so counter to the philosophy of the show. Through the past 2 seasons, not only has the show proven that saving Mabel is more important than stopping Bill, it's also proven (and proves again after this) that saving Mabel is essential to stopping Bill. Evil isn't defeated by one guy being brave enough to shoot a gun at it, it's defeated by a community that works and fights together. And, hilariously, Ford is captured within the first 7 minutes of the episode, making everyone else's jobs way more difficult.

To be clear, it would be a complete misunderstanding of the character to say that Ford prioritizes stopping Bill first because he doesn't care enough about Mabel or her safety. It's precisely because he cares so much that he doesn't look for her right away. Ford has bought thoroughly into the lie that Bill fed him, which is that devastating personal sacrifice is not only right & good, but necessary in order to accomplish great things. As long as Ford believes that lie, he remains Bill's perfect prey—even with a metal plate in his head, even 30 years after the initial manipulation. Ford will easily give up sleep, food, friendship, family, sanity, and his own life, if he can be convinced he's doing it for the right reasons. And he's very easy to convince! Ironically, despite being arguably one of the most formidable characters in the show, he's also arguably the weakest and most gullible of the main cast, because he's so obsessed with the idea of giving up everything for something greater than himself.

That lie of the moral necessity of self-sacrifice, the lie that makes it possible for Ford to give up his brother, lock himself in his basement, be angry when he’s brought back home, and nearly destroy the world, is heavily in the offing through the Ford-Dipper plotline of Dipper and Mabel vs the Future. Ford offers Dipper apprenticeship and tells him that he’s capable of handling it—but it would require personal sacrifice, giving up his childhood with Mabel to join Ford in his self-imposed isolation. A test of Dipper’s aptitude for that kind of sacrifice occurs in that episode: Ford nearly dies, and orders Dipper to let it happen so that the rift is kept safe. Dipper doesn’t even think before disobeying him. He doesn’t seem to consider it a decision. There's no thought of the greater good when his uncle needs him.

Later, talking to Mabel about the idea of joining Ford as an apprentice, he says how ridiculous it is--sees it for a fantasy. The image of heroism Ford presents is appealing, but it's a lie.

For Gravity Falls, a show with two central protagonists, a show arguing over and over that the only way to change things for the better is to work with, trust, and care for your loved ones, Ford's position is an interesting one. I'd argue that thematically he stands in a more relevant antagonist position than Bill Cipher. He represents everything that the show is poised against. He's set up carefully as the epitome of Cool, with a masterful buildup to his entrance, badass styling, and hero worship from Dipper (the closest thing GF has to an audience insert.) And then, slowly and subtly, the show reveals how the lie of the lone hero has convinced him to hurt himself and everyone around him, nearly to the point of destruction.

I love him dearly. The best awful guy of all time

#gravity falls #ford pines #stanford pines #cecil meta

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seuonji · 9 months

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彡 as long as you're here, i can endure it. — yoon jeonghan

—office worker au! desk neighbour jeonghan.

notes ๑ gn!reader. oneshot. alt title: 9-5 jobs suck

genre ๑ fluff to angst.

warnings ๑ smoking (i don’t support smoking but it’s for the plot.)

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

the agonising sound of keyboard clicks, printers printing, and overlapped conversations rang in your ear. overwhelmed, you curled into your arms and let out a distressed exhale. you covered your ears and for a while it was tranquil.

only for a while.

“ynnnn let’s go for a smoke,” your desk neighbour, yoon jeonghan casually tugged at your sleeve without looking away from his screen. one of his hands held his cigarette pack and a lighter. even with the bulk, he was still typing like he normally would. you squinted your eyes at his laid-back nuance but did not have the energy to point out his weird skill.

you took a peek to your screen and it seemed like a good time to take a break anyway so you fulfilled his demands and got up from your seat. you waited and adjusted your clothes, standing beside jeonghan who was finishing up to his goal.

"alright, let's go!" he practically jumped out of his seat after saving his work.

as you reached your designated smoking spot which was just the rooftop of the building, you embraced the breeze that greeted you. you held onto the railings and looked down at the semi-dead street, wishing you were down there catching a taxi that was headed to home.

jeonghan plucked two cigarettes from the pack and positioned one in between your lips. he sparked a flame and lit his cigarette before leaning closer to you. he held your chin and as the tips of your cigarette touched, your cigarette ignited.

“9-5 jobs suck,” you exhaled expressing your disdain for your current life situation. “did someone not warn you beforehand?” jeonghan chuckled before continuing, “i think even pre-schoolers know that.”

“i'm probably just tired of how works getting repetitive," you sighed before turning to him and asking, “how are you holding on?“

“i’m fine, i really don't mind this line of work,” he took another puff, eyes squinted because of the sun targeting his face.

“really? i would've suspected that you'd hate this job more than me."

he seemed taken aback by your statement, "do you know me enough to assume things like that?"

you pouted defeatedly and nodded in agreement. he had a point, your 'relationship' with him had only begun a few months ago and there was only so much you could know about him.

you and jeonghan were the newest employees of the company who had started on the same day. overtime when you started to get comfortable working there, you coincidentally ran into him on the roof. both of you knew you were there for the same reasons.

since then you two have gotten closer. you two would only rely on each other, even occasionally grabbing lunch together on your accord but most of all you two always spent your breaks smoking together.

“just assuming from what i’ve observed so far,” you answered, pinching the smoke in between your fingers.

“you’ve been observing me?” he said cheekily.

“barely,” you sternly say while rolling your eyes.

he was humored by your expression. moving closer, he closed the distance between you and him and leaned on the railing right by you. his shoulder grazed against yours and you jolted at the sudden physical contact but tried to hide your reaction.

you cleared your throat to fill the silence, “so, what do you like about this dreadful 9-5?”

“well...it’s a bit flexible in terms of schedule. the food in the cafeteria sucks though and the people in our unit are kinda incompetent, except for me of course. the air conditioning system is quite good but it gets stuffy at times. another thing, they seriously need to upgrade the machines and technology, the printer keeps jamming on me—“

you softly smacked his arm cutting him off, “you are describing it how a person who hates this job would.”

he sneered as he looked off into the distance as if he was in a movie. he had a slight grin on his face as he truly answered your question,

“i don’t mind this job because i met you in the process."

you were in the middle of taking a drag from your cigarette when he said that. caught off guard by his words, you profusely started to choke on the smoke. “yn? you good??” he worriedly called your name and patted your back, as if that would help.

“i’m good—” you said in between coughs. "do you want me to get your water?" he bent down to your level, still patting your back.

“it's okay, we’ve got to get back to work anyways," you weakly said as you walked towards the exit door.

you faced your colleague and kept up an energy despite your throat literally dying from the inside, "come on now, i’ll make fun of you if you work overtime again," you joked, silently changing the subject.

he shook his head in disbelief and laughed as he walked towards you.

you threw your cigarette into the ashtray and opened the door to the stairs. jeonghan followed behind you disposing his cigarette before placing his hands into his pockets.

as you both settled down at your desks, you shared a smile with him before silently getting immersed in your work. in spite of that, some parts of you drifted into thought.

on your side, you thought that if you knew any less, you would've assumed jeonghan had feelings for you with the way he worded that answer. it wasn’t possible, he meant it in the friendship way, right?

on jeonghan's side, he was a bit disappointed, he thought today was the day he could finally confess. maybe he should’ve been a bit more direct, or was it too soon?

overall he didn’t fret much, he gets it if it was a topic you weren’t ready for. for now, as long as he had you as his desk buddy who would smoke with him in any given moment, that was enough for him. sooner or later, he knew he could eventually work his way up to being something more than someone who just smokes and gossips with you.

that was what he thought, until he saw your phone one day. he happened to glance at it when it was near his side. it had just received a notification from a sender under the name, “shua” followed by a pink heart. he even caught a glimpse of your smile when your eyes saw the notification.

suddenly, everything in the world clicked but for jeonghan, everything had shattered.

「shua💓: hi my love! i’ll be home early today, what do you wanna have for dinner tonight?」

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