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#the amount of posts basically shitting on the series is ridiculous
aquaquadrant · 2 months
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hey aqua, i'm here to ramble about your stupidly amazing au that's got me bouncing off the walls between chapters being posted
firstly, i put all the fics in a doc (because you know, I gotta keep track of what i've read and haven't read, and it's totally not because i want to save it forever and pass it on to my grandchildren)
the doc contains the warnings, summaries, a/n's and everything in between but i wouldn't think it would make a huge difference to the 100K WORDCOUNT
so here is is, the horrifying word count that is honestly longer than most actual published novels and the amount of pages, which to be honest, would be larger if this was actually printed in book size (font size proportionately to the page size), to which the page number would be.... too much, honestly. even I don't want to calculate that and i'm insane
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now i assume you knew all this already, since you probably have also been writing this in a google doc to keep track of it, but then again docs slows down dramatically under 397 pages of brainrot-inducing writing so i dont expect you to be using it too often. if you are, congratulations and have a gold star
it's more of i'm collecting useless bits of information like this to show to whoever has read the series, because it's so good, it's so ridiculously amazing, and it so could be turned into a book if someone tried hard enough and i need people to back me up
heck, it's written so much better compared to most novels, it's just that good. i even turn to it when i don't feel like writing. i read it, and then through some miracle, i have all the writing talent and motivation in the world, seemingly having absorbed it from your work.
tldr: htpau is amazing. if you haven't read it you should read it. and it's that good that it literally could be a book. zero exaggeration. (can you tell that this thought has kept me awake many nights)
now hopefully you weren't too baffled to see such a long ask in your inbox, and hopefully you don't question me, as someone who hasn't read a proper novel in years, who has basically reread every chapter once or twice basically as soon as it comes out
i don't need therapy, i need more of your writing. (because hels no does chapter nine end like this) ba dum tss
and then, i leave you, with a gold star and many thanks ⭐
HAGAJDHJA HOLY SHIT
i do use google docs but i make a new one for every chapter for the reason u mentioned, once they’re past a certain page count it gets real slow and i don’t have the patience for that. so uh yeah, i don’t think i ever bothered to calculate the total running word count. it’s not the longest fic i’ve ever written, and i don’t think it will be by the time i finish it, but that’s definitely a NOT INSIGNIFICANT number of words, goddamn.
someone did bind one of my fics into an actual hard cover book once, just for their own personal use. man, that was sick. now i don’t think i’d ever try to alter a fic of mine to actually publish it, cuz so much of what i write hinges too much on the original content, but fan-bindings are A-OKAY so long as i get to see pics :3
anyway, no worries about the long ask, i love hearing from u guys. i’m flattered u went thru the trouble of consolidating it and i’m glad ur enjoying the au!
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se-mia-bstract · 1 year
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netflix is actually ridiculous like the amount of promo shadow and bone is getting is actually insane like there’s a new character poster - posted individually rather than in one multi-post - like every five minutes and they’ve released so many sneak peaks and interviews and had this whole huge premiere that they’re posting every two seconds… and the old guard 2 gets literally nothing
this isnt a jab at shadow and bone (im super excited for the new series!!) just a comparison to show that when netflix gives a shit they actually can advertise their projects they’re just wilfully neglecting TOG. three points to anyone who can guess why based on netflix’s brilliant track record with wlw media
that tudum segment was literal scraps of content, and at a time when they definitely had more content that they just chose not to show, and THEN it doesn’t get released in its own video as basically every other segment was. then they post about TOG in a valentine’s article being like ‘watch this movie before the sequel comes out’. bold of them to assume anyone is even aware of this sequel outside the fandom since they’re literally telling no one about it.
the movie is supposed to come out this year and this is all the info we’ve got. insanely ridiculous. and if it’s pushed back, alright, at least tell us?? genuinely mad about this 24/7 at this point the people behind the making of this film and the community around it deserve better
tldr: netflix’s lack of anything related to the old guard sequel is infuriating and im sad about it
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emmedoesntdomath · 11 months
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swiftyyyyyyy (take two)
if you saw me accidentally post and then immediately delete the first take, no you didn’t.
ok, so for those of us who don’t know (and who are thus the more sane and normal human beings, so no shame), swifty is a manhattan newsie from 92sies that does a series of ridiculous twists and turns and flippy things.
also- I didn’t even realize this until I was double-checking my infamous history nerd stuff- but his official canon name is swifty the rake???? like, that is the name the other newsies call this man???? I’m just,,, what????
and on that note, we’re off to a great start (I take it back, @sparkedblaze, THIS will be my most unhinged hc simply because of the amount of shit I’m about to pack in), so fasten your seatbelts, kids, because this is going to be a bumpy ride.
swifty became a newsie when he was REALLY young, like around the age of les. his family always had money problems, but it became so bad that they physically couldn’t support him and the rest of his siblings, so he becomes a newsie and moves to the lodging house. he’s a happy, very, very energetic kid, and eventually, someone gets so tired of watching him bounce around that they teach him how to do basic flips and acrobatic tricks.
this is a mistake.
swifty just never walks normally again, basically. no, he has to cartwheel, or back flip, or do a walkover. it’s utter insanity, and something everyone just views with a tired fondness, because for all that he does it often, it somehow makes him just as excited as the first time he did it.
and then we get to the rake part. so, ‘rake’, when used as an adjective to describe a person, is generally synonymous to derogatory words like slut or whore, but instead it’s typically used to describe men. when calling him a rake, they’re essentially saying that he sleeps with a lot of women.
or, that’s probably what they mean. either way, I think it’s funnier to think of it in the opposite way.
swifty is swifty the rake NOT because he sleeps with an absurd number of women, but because he CAN’T sleep with an absurd number of women. no, this man can’t get a girl to save his life (or a guy, actually, but he’s trying that one out behind the scenes, y’know?), and ALL of the newsies know it. not only that, but they think it’s the funniest shit since the baby from brooklyn with two heads. this is a CONSTANT point of discussion.
so poor swifty’s just over here, casually cartwheeling and flipping his heart out, while all of his friends are giving him shit because he’s apparently perpetually single. go figure.
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cha1cedony · 6 months
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Okay fine I’ll do one of these (because I like to talk about myself hehehe). Thanks @roboobin for tagging me B)
A very long ‘get to know me’ post below…
Last song: Apparently it was ‘Two Time’ - Jack Stauber, according to Spotify? I’ve also been relistening to a few tracks from Falsettos all day, for some reason. ‘I’m Breaking Down’ got stuck in my head somehow. I’m not super big on musical theater, but I LOOOOVE Falsettos and especially Trina :) You can probably tell I have a certain type of favorite characters/media lol.
Favorite color: Light greyish blue (or white, grey, silver, orrrr light greyish green?)
Last movie: I actually have no idea. Maybe Nimona with my IRLs a few months ago? I almost NEVER watch movies in full because I get bored of them easily. Sorry I know that’s so lame lololol
Currently watching: A commentary YouTube video to use as background noise while I do my writing assignments lol. Like I said, I don’t really watch a lot of movies or TV :/
Currently reading: Nothing, unfortunately! I haven’t read any books/stories in an embarrassingly long time :( I am so ridiculously busy and haven’t had the time/motivation to read and get invested in new characters. I have a bunch of series I want to reread for nostalgia purposes, though. I’m also strangely tempted to read the Animorphs series? LOL. I looked it up on AO3 for the first time a few months ago while in the kids’ section of the library with my IRLS and we were assessing the popularity of kids’ books based on the amount of AO3/Wattpad fics (btw, there are a shockingly low amount of Geronimo Stilton fics in the world). I wasn’t expecting there to be an Animorphs fandom, but there IS? And the fics are really GOOD even though I don’t know the source material? Anyway. Tempted to read it because I like putting teens in situations /lh. Also I want to read more short stories! Send me recommendations, if you have any.
Last thing I googled: This is so embarrassing. ‘Bathroom cruising’ LMAOOOO. I was just writing a funny bit, but I wanted to make sure it was accurate, okay? T_T Other recent searches include my voice lesson Lieder, various areas I’ve felt pain recently (because I’m a hypochondriac /lh), and a vlog I had to watch for my job… I was writing an article about it.
Sweet/spicy/savory: Savory. Every time. I love savory foods, and they’re basically the only types of food I ever crave. Then I would go with spicy, but only if it’s spicy in a flavorful way (and not just a painful way). I don’t like sweet foods except for chocolate—and, even then, I am infamous among my friends and acquaintances for only liking SUPER dark chocolate… like 70% cocoa or more. I would say my favorite flavor profile is bitter! :)
Current obsession: I think y’all already know :^) I am incapable of having more than one strong interest at once, soooo DnDads has quite literally been occupying my brain since liiiike October 2022… almost a year ago now! o_o Holy shit. I’ve been really busy with work and school in the past month or so, so I haven’t done basically anything else in my free time. I’d like to start cross stitching again because I have some projects to finish, and I got some of my late grandmother’s jewelry-making supplies recently, so I’ll toy around with that, too.
Currently working on: Like, right this second? Discussion post replies for my Writing in Digital Environments course :p In general? As far as hobbies go, the beginnings of my next longfic chapter! As far as work goes, I’m working on article about a mural. I have to drive like 30 mins to get a features image for it tomorrow ugh. At least I get to kill time on the clock :’)
I don’t want to tag anyone in particular, but, obviously, if you want to do this, you can just say I tagged you. Shhh I won’t tell ;) hehehe
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tastybluesprite · 6 months
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A wild night
Finally did it!!! I’m a bit nervous to post this because it’s a webtoon that isn’t big enough that many people would know. But if you are curious I encourage you to check it out. It’s called Love Stuck made by jayck34. The entire cast is just so amazing and I love the dynamics. Wanted to write some fluff for it because it’s been a major comfort series for me as of late.
Main characters: Kino, Jake
Side characters: Jordan, Isabel, Noel
Summery: Jake reveals the best way to make his stoic and introverted friend laughs. Naturally, chaos ensues. Enjoy.
Warnings: This fic contains tickling and massive amounts of sweet and adorable fluff. If that is not your thing feel free not to read. <3
If you told Kino that he’d end up making friends, especially some being extroverts, he likely would’ve called you crazy (and probably would’ve call the cops).
Point it, Kino had some major changes to his life ever since college started.
“Omg Jordan you have to see this!” Isabel cried, amusement painted across her face.
Jordan bursted into chuckles, as she watched the video. They were having a little midnight hang out at Jordan’s apartment. Eating junk food and chatting about whatever. Kino, although part of him wanting to just stay home figured, why not? He was trying to make changes for the better after all (also Jake basically dragged him along).
It was a casual friendly hang out. Jordan, Isabel, Noel, Jake, and Kino (they tried to invite Rowe, but he had other things to do apparently).
Jordan smirked “Why don’t you show Kino? Make him laugh for a change.”
Kino felt a light blush on his face at the sudden attention put on him.
“No thanks. I’m good.” Kino managed.
“Awe Cmon Kino you can show everyone your laugh!” Jake said happily with his cheeky smile.
“Woah, so Kino can laugh? Color me shocked. How does one even manage such a task?”
Jake chuckled “Oh sure he can! Take it from me. I’ve known him since we were in elementary school, and I know basically everything about him. Including how to make him laugh.”
Kino shot his best friend a glare as if to say you better not fucking dare.
He was sad to say that Jake did indeed know a shit ton about him.
“Ohh? So what may that be?” Isabel chimed in.
“Well… for as long as I’ve known him, he’s been ridiculously ticklish.” Just as Kino was about to make a break for it, Jake managed to grab him by his sweater sleeve and pull him back down.
The girls watched as the two best friends seemed to struggle with one another. Kino looked like he was about to murder Jake. Meanwhile Noel grew completely flushed. However only the girls really knew about her crush on Kino.
“Really? I didn’t think Kino was the type.” Jordan commented with a smirk. Eventually Jake managed to get the raven head down on his back, straddling him and firmly pushing down at his shoulders to keep him in place.
“Jake if you don’t fucking let me go right now…”
“Sorry Kino my man, but this is way too worth it.”
He then abandoned his shoulders to dig through his sweatshirt.
Kino jammed his lips shut. I couldn’t believe Jake would actually do this. Actually scratch that. He could totally believe Jake would do this. He would not allow himself to be humiliated in front of three other people whom he only just managed to befriend not too long ago. And girls at that!
All he could do is squirm and writhe around under Jake as he gripped at his wrists tightly, trying to dislodge them off him.
Unfortunately Jake managed to slip his fingers up to his mid ribs and Kino cracked.
“Jahahake nohohoho…” Kino bursted into rare giggles. A noise Jake didn’t hear from him too often, even when it was just them.
His face also morphed into a wide smile.
“Awweee his giggles are so adorable! Don’t you think Noel???” Isabel grinned cheekily, lightly elbowing Noel’s side. Noel had to fight to keep herself from burning out with how flustered she was. Clearly she found all of this very cute.
Kino on the other hand wasn’t doing any better. His face lit up bright red like a tomato.
“Y’all wanna join in? Plenty of Kino for everyone!”
Dammit Jake I’m not some feast waiting to be devoured!
Jordan and Isabel giggled and added their own hands. Jordan slipping under his sweatshirt to scribble her nails across his soft and toned belly, while Isabel lightly dusted her fingers against his neck.
Wether Kino was in heaven or hell he couldn’t quite say. All he knew was that his laughter and squirming increased tenfold and he felt ticklish tingles all over his body.
“Jake, since you’ve known him for a long time, do you happen know where he’s most ticklish?” Jordan asked mischievously. Although Kino was in the middle of basically dying, his eyes managed to glare at him through his laughter.
Don’t you fucking dare.
Jake grinned. “Of course I do! He has a little spot right here…”
Jake slipped his hands under his sweatshirt and began massaging his lowest ribs.
Kino… well the best word for it was “exploded.”
“JAHAHAHAKE YOU FUHUHAHAHAHA!!!” Kino arched his back and writhed more desperately.
Kino was completely lost in laughter, forgetting his audience as his brain knew nothing but the horrible electric shock coming from his lowest rib. No matter how hard he tried to pull Jakes hands off him the laughing had completely sapped him of his strength.
All he could do at this point was lay there and take it.
Soon Jake stopped. He may be cruel but he wasn’t evil. Kino was an absolute flustered mess, trying hard to regain his composure.
Soon catching his breath, he slowly sat up.
“S-sorry Kino… y-you understand I had to right… hehe…?” Jake mumbled nervously.
Kinos glare was so terrifying even the other three felt fear from it.
“Welp sorry ladies I gotta go and save myself now.”
“JAKE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!” And they were off. Kino hot on Jakes trail as they played cat and mouse all around the apartment building.
Soon they could hear bright and bubbly hysterical laughter from one of the bedrooms.
“Should we help Kino now?” Isabel asked.
Jordan shrugged and smiled “I suppose it’s only fair. Besides I don’t want to get his wrath next.”
“I’m sorry is that your way of admitting you’re ticklish?” Isabel teased, poking the darker haired girls side.
“Hehey! Let’s just go and get him. You comin’ Noel?”
Noel was still a bit flustered but a small smile appeared on her face and she nodded. Safe to say Jake learned his lesson that night. And Kino ended up letting the girls off the hook for helping him out.
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kurna-kovite · 1 year
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The debate on the MBTI of South Park character Tweek Tweak
This is a VERY long, very useless essay I have constructed about Tweek's MBTI type.
I have created this because of discussion on the personality database site.
Right now, the consensus is that Tweek is an ENFP, and I agree with this. However, I see a lot of arguments popping up about Tweek being an ISFJ stuck in a Ne grip. Because I care WAY too much about internet points, I researched and wrote an argument in an effort to convince people of Tweek being an ENFP.
Of course, that's not how internet arguments work, and I'm going crazy that I've put a lot of time into this useless thing that not a lot of people will actually read. So, I'm posting it here, lol. Sure hope it's not full of misinformation that will make me look like a fool.
Here we go.
I may not have been into MBTI for years, but I did a lot of reading to prepare for these arguments, and everything I've learned from arguments here and things online have been super interesting. 
So, the general consensus is that inferior grips come into play when under a lot of stress. That makes sense, but why do these grips come into play during these intense situations? To put it simply, it's like they're meant to be a coping mechanism. 
The reason I say it implies that you've exhausted your dominant functions, is because that's also the general consensus on what I've read up on. Very high stress situations may cause you to depend on those functions too much, effectively burning them out. That, or those functions just aren't working for the situation they're in, and won't give a good solution, which may stress you out even more. Thus, the inferior function grips because it's attempting to give those other functions a 'break', in an attempt to 'save the day', if you will. It's trying to be the backup when things aren't going right at all. 
It's why there are recommendations for what to do when you're in a grip. Step back, meditate or something, just take the time to 'recharge' I suppose so you can think clearly, and fall back to your natural functions. 
That's also the reason I disagree with it being a Ne grip. It should be taken into account that Tweek is in extraordinary circumstances; he's faced with this extreme amount of stress every-day, and we've never seen him out of this stress cycle. I haven't seen a moment of clarity where Tweek is significantly less stressed and therefore not reliant on a grip anymore. So this begs the question, is it a grip, or is that just how he is? 
Another thing about the idea of a grip, is that it comes with more stress than usual. But assuming that Tweek is under this type of stress everyday because of the fact that he lives in South Park, then… At what point does this kind of stress become the usual? 
Basically, what looks like lots of stress to us, is pretty normal for Tweek. I think that stress has become normalized to the point that we can assume that a grip would not be needed anymore, because these are things he experiences everyday. 
Going back to my argument with Put It Down, I think that episode shows us the distinction between everyday stress for Tweek, and a tremendous amount of stress. Tweek's everyday stress stems from his anxiety, but it's mostly stress about the things that could happen. However, in Put It Down, we see Tweek dealing with things that are happening to him. This isn't some ridiculous meltdown Tweek is having; North Korea sent a missile over his house 😭 I would say that this is so much more stressful than how he acts in the rest of the series. 
So this is why I argue that Tweek is an ENFP who had a Si-grip during the Put It Down episode, because Tweek got pretty narrow-minded and hopeless during the thing, to the point where he could only see the possibility of… North Korea bombing the shit out of him lmao. I went over the evidence for the si-grip in the last argument, but I can copy paste here in the event that someone didn't read that last argument. 
"ENFP's stuck in a Si-grip may be 'unable to see any possibilities or hope for the future, ' and 'Worry about whether or not they are healthy or at physical risk. They may feel paralyzed and unable to communicate clearly, as their thinking becomes cloudy and convoluted. They may feel overwhelmed, out of control, unable to sort out their priorities, and inflexible. 
'They also may be attracted to stuff that provides security and familiarity. ' "
"Tweek is constantly paranoid about his well-being. I don't see him being all that worried about his health in particular, just about whether or not something's going to get him. It also explains why Tweek is struggling so much in an episode like Put It Down; his thinking is all scrambled, and he can't sort anything out despite there being so many things happening around him. Craig trying to offer him solutions only makes it worse, because he is unable to sort them out and mull over it. He can't consider the possibilities anymore. 
Assuming he's in a Si-grip during this episode, then it also states he may feel 'paralyzed and unable to communicate clearly', which is why Tweek wasnt able to tell Craig what he needed. He couldn't quite see through his cloudy thoughts to know what he needed, which led to the communication problems that we saw. "
" 'ENFP's, when under a lot of stress, may see so many possibilities that get only get MORE stressed out, and start feeling alienated or lost. If they can't find a way to manage the stress, they may fall into the grip of their inferior function. '
It explains the way Tweek rants to Craig at the end of the episode. We saw Tweek trying through possible solutions at the beginning, but it just wasn't able to work out for him. So when he finally gets to process his emotions at the end, he explains that, 
'I feel scared! I feel alone! '
'That must be horrible! It must be hard to even think! '
'It is! It's terrible! '
'I bet it is! What else are you feeling? '
'Like I have no control over my life. Like I'm just a pawn in a big game! '
'Oh, that's a terrifying thought. You must feel trapped! '
'Yeah! Like trapped, but, completely unable to even move! '
Just in this one scene, we see so many symptoms of a Si-grip. Alienated, lost, overwhelmed, paralyzed, out of control. It makes much more sense to me, that any Si traits he has, only shows up in a form like this. "
That argument also explained that everyday stress, which I think is what Tweek is experiencing, typically makes ENFP's more ENFP like. I think, combined with his unhealthy anxiety and paranoia, this could easily be mistaken for a Ne grip. But in my eyes, I haven't seen enough evidence of a Si-dom to make that true. 
Now, I understand that MBTI's aren't exactly black and white, and don't necessarily adhere to the stereotypes, but this also makes the argument for a Si-dom make less sense to me. If our dominant functions are the ones we fall so naturally to, why don't we see solid moments of him using his dominant functions? 
The arguments for it seem pretty weak to me. Si-doms have the ability to consider new possibilities with time, but Tweek doesn't take a whole lot of time to consider possibilities. He took less than a minute to accept the possibility, so it doesn't quite make sense to me that this is the usual way an ISFJ will react, since it just happens so… Fast. Not to mention the idea that `anybody can accept new possibilities " isn't a very strong argument to me, either. Sure, I suppose anybody can accept new possibilities, but the point is that ENFPs are more prone to it. 
I'll go back to Tweek being visited by the "Ghost of Human Kindness". Tweek didn't need to take any time to mull over it to accept the idea that maybe it was possible to become more trusting in people. He was pretty open to the idea, of course, until it was immediately shot down because… That's just how things go for Tweek 💀 That's why I think these possibility points match ENFP better. When it comes down to it, one of the differences between ISFJ and ENFP is the acceptance of possibilities. Just because ISFJ can accept them, doesn't really show me that it proves the argument for ISFJ more than it does for ENFP, if that makes any sense. 
Another thing. Something everyone seems to be forgetting to take into consideration, is that Tweek is on drugs. Like, all the time. It's in his name. Of course, drugs would affect his cognitive functions to some degree, wouldn't they? 
I haven't seen much theory on how something like meth would affect cognitive functions in this setting, so I suppose I'm making my own theory. But this meth and caffeine addiction is probably the stark cause of his anxiety and paranoia. 
I think inferring that he is misusing his Ne function because he is stuck in a grip, implies that Tweek would also be able to fix all of that by just learning to use his Ne function properly. Instead, I think that the only reason he is unable to use his Ne function in a healthy, ENFP way, is because of outside causes. Of course being high on meth would make Tweek anxious and paranoid, it's a drug side effect, and the fact that Tweek's dominant trait is the one that combs through possibilities only exacerbates this issue. Not to mention, his parents only fuel his unhealthy worries, like in the same 'Child Abduction is Not Funny' episode where Richard taught Tweek never to answer the door for anyone, or he'd die.
 It's an unhealthy external factor that Tweek can't fix by learning to use an inferior Ne function properly. 
If you take away the meth addiction, and his awful parents, and the fact that he lives in South Park, then I'd be more inclined to believe that it's his own use of the Ne function that's giving him this awful anxiety, and therefore implies that it's his undeveloped inferior function that's in control. But I'd argue that Tweek is a victim of circumstance, and that if you DID take away the meth, parents, and town, all you'd have left is a normal ENFP kid. Of course, it’s not, and never will be that simple. But I don’t think that being an ENFP, and having anxiety are NOT mutually exclusive.
Now, for the argument on Fe vs. Fi. As far as I know, the Fe vs. Fi argument is about how he makes his decisions. Fe's make their decisions based on how they think the repercussions will affect other people, and Fi's make their decisions based on their inner feelings and ideals. It has nothing to do with his need for Craig's reassurance. 
Tweek and Kyle was just used as a comparison in another comment, because Kyle is a Fe user, but I find this to be a good way to look at why they’re different. Kyle was trying to get Stan's approval for his actions, which is a very clear usage of Fe to me, and it also sounded like Kyle was trying to convince himself. But I don't see Tweek trying to defend his own actions in an effort to get Craig to tell him his actions were morally okay actions, as much as I only see Tweek trying to either get reassurance that Craig still likes him, or that Tweek is going to be okay. 
That's why I'm still firm on my argument for his actions during FBW. He was never trying to get Craig to tell him that his actions were okay, he was just trying to get Craig to see his point of view. It's less that Tweek is trying to get external validation for the actions that he does, and more that Tweek just needs external validation for who he is. Since Fi people tend to be hyper-aware of how they think other people see them, this makes sense to me that he needs a bit of a self confidence boost more than he needs reassurance in his decision making. 
Tweek did not weigh the possible repercussions of him walking out on Coon and Friends, but he instead made his decisions based on what he felt and what he thought was right. In contrast to Kyle in the Crack Baby Association episode, Tweek was not defending his actions and trying to get Craig to tell him that he did the right thing. He made his decision, and stood beside it. 
A good point is raised about Tweek's actions with the main four. He quickly abandons his moral code when they thought they killed their teacher. My argument for this, again, was that his anxiety overpowers his use of his Fi functions, given that his anxiety and paranoia are separate from his MBTI functions. 
"It may take a long time to mull over their own beliefs to make sure they seem right. " If I had to argue, I'd say Tweek hasn't solidified his values yet. Heck, I don't think he's even had a chance to think about it, since he's so stressed with every other aspect in his life. And even if his values told him that he shouldn't be participating in it, I think his anxiety outweighs his desire to stick true to his values.
 I think his anxiety and cognitive functions are sort of separate, so anxiety does not define those functions, and the functions do not define his anxiety. So I believe that his paranoia will lead him to ignore his values because he's terrified of these other possibilities, but if you took away that anxiety and paranoia, then I think he'd be much more prone to having a strong moral code, or having the Fi function. 
Going back to having Kyle as a comparison, throughout the series, we see him end episodes with 'I learned something today', where he comes to a conclusion usually in an attempt to reconcile whatever conflict is going on. Similar to FBW, when Kyle learned that Timmy was trying to include all the superheroes, he quickly backtracked and apologized, trying to quickly resolve that conflict once he realized it was a bad thing. 
I'm also not saying Fe users have to be all good and all knowing. We regularly see Kyle abandon his morality and values, typically in an effort to get back at Cartman. He will stoop down to his level if it means he gets revenge, and while sometimes this means he gets the good, resolved outcome, it still means he put solving conflict over his own moral integrity. The evidence I can think of off the top of my head is the infamous "Why would you say horrible shit about gay people? " line that Craig asked Kyle. Can't remember the episode, but that's one example.
Because Fi and Fe are about how someone makes a decision, it's important to see Tweeks decision making process. The reason I still think he's Fi despite his other actions is because his first, immediate decisions do seem to be based on what he believes is right, and wrong. He didn't want to kill his teacher. He, at first, firmly decided that he wasn't going to be a part of the main four anymore because they thought they killed their teacher. The only reason this decision changed, is because the others quickly take advantage of his anxiety and paranoia, whether they realize it or not. By telling Tweek that he's going to be responsible, and that he might have to take the fall on it, Tweek's anxiety is kicked into overdrive, and overpowers his desire to make decisions based on his values. 
The argument on Fe vs. Fi is based on how they make their decisions, whether they consider the feelings of other people when making decisions, or whether they consider their own values and feelings when making a decision. Tweek considering other people's feelings outside of decision making doesn't necessarily make him a Fe, and I believe it's his anxiety that makes him ignore his values. 
Another example is, of course, when Tweek has the rocket launcher. He threatens to blow up the prints, unless he gets his friends back(except for Cartman). The reason I think this supports him being Fi is because Tweek isn't considering how the world will react and feel if they see Spielberg's premiere, but he's more concerned about whether he gets his friends back alive. He made a decision based on where his values lay, which was among his friends as opposed to saving the world from seeing this awful premiere. 
Now, going to extraversion vs. introversion… 
I did some more reading to see the comparisons. I might still be totally off-base here, but in my defense, I'm not finding an explicit difference anywhere. 
So I'm still convinced of the extroversion. He's had a history of coming to other people with his issues, and traits of extraversion are having an easier time figuring out their problems when they get to talk out loud and hear other people's input. He goes to his parents, and he goes to Craig. 
Tweek also typically directs his energy outwards, to focus on other people and things and situations, rather than internal thoughts and ideas. 
Tweek goes to Craig with his issues because he fits into the extraversion trait of needing to talk out his problems and receive outside input in order to figure it out. He does this with his parents, too, although his parents are much less helpful. 
I don't think extraversion vs introversion is about how many people he talks about his issues with. It seems to me that it's about where he directs and receives his energy from. 
Okay. Moving onto Te vs. Ti. 
So, research tells me that, "The Tertiary function can guide you toward areas of life you have avoided, areas that require skills you do not feel comfortable using. "
It also may not develop until later in life, so I'd dare say that's why I claim we don't see it being used much in the series. I don't recall seeing it being used in a more dominant function. 
Now, even though it may not fully develop/mature until adulthood, it still will show itself somehow in early life. "For ENFP's, it may affect them by making it difficult for them to be organized and follow through on projects. They may be forgetful, miss steps, or start and leave tasks unfinished. They can also struggle with maintaining objective logic and may have a hard time balancing their eagerness to pursue new possibilities with a logical mindset. "
I think this fits Tweek pretty well. We see him acting pretty disorganized, and we see that he struggled to completely follow through on his 'making hats' project for the Free Hat episode. I also see him consistently struggle to keep an objective logic when he's incredibly anxious. It may seem contradictory that it is described as an 'eagerness to pressure new possibilities', but I think it still matches how Tweek is always so quick to jump to anxious possibilities. This seems unhealthy, but again, I think of it less as signifying a Ne grip, and more as seeing it as his meth addiction/anxiety/paranoia taking and using his dominant functions for the wrong things. 
Te is supposed to consider the objectivity of the facts and details, but given that I believe it to be a supportive function, it means we shouldn't see it being predominantly used, and we don't, as far as I know. Tweek still doesn't look at things objectively, and even hates it when Craig gives him the objective facts. The Te tertiary function is supposed to aid an ENFP by helping them see the logic in the possibilities they think of, but because the tertiary function does not typically fully develop and mature until later, added to the fact that Tweek's unfortunate circumstances make him misuse his Ne-dom functions, we don't see that objective, logical thinking anywhere in him for the most part. That's why I see it as fitting for a tertiary function. 
This is a more solid document of the argument I have for ENFP Tweek, with most of it being developed after having some other people give some of their ISFJ arguments. Overall, it’s a super interesting argument, and I’ve learned a lot from it, but I do hope some of my arguments are convincing :)
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multi-lefaiye · 2 years
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YEAH YEAH!! Ok so sorta my theory goes that humans in their universe isn't the one giving ballyhoos out, and instead it's our universe's love for them (and our current involvement with the comic) that is feeding them. You're completely right about Bugs too!! She ALWAYS looks at Us when talking to, as i thinkkk it was swiper who said it? But she hears who is giving her Ballyhoo, and she always talks to us or faces us when she does it. It lines up with Scooby's comment about how it's getting worse! Her small bursts of talking to us would be us experiencing her through flashbacks, and it would be more consistent as the time to current events gets closer and closer. I would continue with how Bugs gives us a bit more evidence ("keep all eyes on me" and "look away kids" meaning shes AWARE shes being watched), but i have MORE evidence!!
Someone mentioned in a post (you'll probably find it in the scoob and shag tag theres like 5 of us here LMAO) how all the colors of the Beings are the same as a TV screen's colors, and how theyre all sorta tech-based (all the characters having files, their tech screens, etc). What if the beings ARE apart of a TV though? The colors that make up the pixels on our screen, to show us the entertainment we desire. The comic. The beings obviously have control over ballyhoos, and are REALLY getting involved now. Like you said, its supposed to be a rare occurrence, but now we have Mickey, Bugs, Scooby, Deedee, and possibly more. Why? Because its entertaining to us! Its drama! Theres probably other reasons, but it fits, doesnt it? Are all the characters in the comic real? The theme thus far has been humanity, and the meaning of it. It'd fit in quite nicely, although idk how far into the idea the comic would go. I do really think, at least, our involvement with the comic is going to affect Shaggy in some way once he gets ahold of Jump Cut. The comic has also interacted directly with the readers, when Bugs asks the viewer who should he kill first. Apparently the decision WAS up to the viewers who voted on polls or in comments! I do think that'll make a return too. ANYWAYS IM RAMBLING I HAVE MANY IDEAS FLOATING IN MY HEAD,,,
ANON I AM TELEPATHICALLY GIVING YOU THE BIGGEST HIGH FIVE RIGHT NOW. THIS IS ALL SO FUCKING COOL HOLY SHIT..... BESTIE YOUR MIND
I'm not a super analytical person and I'm really not that good at Theorizing, but your asks have got my brain fucking SPINNING in circles in a VERY good way.... basically I need to check the Scoob and Shag tag more often huh-
I really think this idea works with the meta nature of this series--especially in regards to the characters' identities. One thing I like to joke about is that like... just who the characters are makes summarizing this webcomic to anyone the most RIDICULOUS experience. And while these characters in-universe are more than just fictional characters, the comic also doesn't simply let go of that identity. Also, with the amount of references to film/television in general, I REALLY like the idea that the beings' colors are specifically meant to tie into that. It works much better than just arbitrarily assigning colors.
Side-note, this also has me wondering a bit if there's specific symbolism around which colors seem to be assigned to each character. It could definitely be an arbitrary thing, but the fact that it seems there are two characters aligned with Magenta is really interesting to me. As I said before, it feels a little weird to have two, so if that IS the direction Dingo is going, then there's gotta be some reason behind it, even if it may ultimately be a simple one.
The colors don't necessarily seem to be unique to each character, so what connects each character to the entity they align with? I honestly might end up sitting down sometime soon to try and analyze similarities with Deedee and Bugs that make them both stand out to Magenta, but that might be a bit of a moot point because there's still a lot we don't know. Still, might be a fun exercise... actually fuck it okay I'm gonna brainstorm a little.
The main thing that stands out in my mind is Magenta's dialogue during the scene where Deedee gets their blessing. As I said previously, the dialogue implies that getting blessings like this is meant to be rare (specifically mentioning that Magenta and the others made some sort of promise not to interfere with the conflict going on in the story, and Magenta is making an exception for this situation), but it's got me thinking a bit.
Deedee gets Magenta's blessing because of her desperation to protect her brother and her devastation that he sacrificed himself for her. Magenta specifically says that Deedee and Dexter's bond reminds them of their relationship with their own siblings, and they want to stop the senseless bloodshed that resulted in Dexter's sacrifice to save his sister.
It's a bit of a tenuous comparison, I will admit, but I think it could easily be argued that this parallels Bugs's alignment with the Martians--I don't remember exactly which update this first comes up in so I could be wrong, but Bugs wants to help the Martians against the Toones, and especially against Mickey. Sure, she isn't a Martian herself, but she has a connection to them. Plus, though she is a rather capable character in combat, she doesn't really seem to revel in senseless violence. She's far from a pacifist, but she's not doing anything without a purpose. Especially in part two, long after she seems to have received Magenta's blessing, she states that her goal, while it isn't necessarily PEACE, is to put a stop to Mickey, which would (at least hopefully) stop the violence.
Okay yeah this got out of hand, and like I said this is very tenuous and I'm definitely not stating any of this as fact. I just really think there has to be some kind of rationale behind each character's ultimate alignment--I HIGHLY doubt it's pure coincidence that Bugs and Deedee specifically both seem to be aligned with Magenta. We don't know much about the entities so far so this is mostly speculation, but there has to be something.
Okay I gotta stop before I start looking into color theory and analyzing the full cast, this is long enough and we don't know enough about the entities in my opinion to fully speculate more about which entities are going to be aligned with which characters (assuming more and more of them are going to be making deals). (And once again I'm just gonna say that I'm forever obsessed with the imagery in the Coward King arc finale with Velm in the field of cyan flowers. Even if this predates the reveal of the entities, it
Also you're 100% right that all of this ties in really well with the theme of humanity in the comic--the characters' identities as fictional characters VS their identities as actual people is a really interesting conflict (idk if that's the right word but brain is mushy). The fourth wall breaks only add to this--while it comes off (especially when Bugs is first introduced) as a playful reference to fourth wall breaks in the original cartoons, it really seems like they serve a greater narrative purpose here. I mean, why CONTINUE calling back to them and making them a core part of who Bugs is as a character rather than simply a small joke or reference?
Also. I just had a thought. Remember when Bugs was introduced and shown to be eating a banana rather than a carrot? I know that was 100% very likely just a visual gag to separate this character from the original cartoon, but on the same line as these characters forming identities outside of the original cartoon characters they're based on.... idk that's just making me think.
I am very interested to see how all of this continues to evolve, and I'm SO fucking sorry for this mile long essay I wrote in response, but I really love your thoughts!!!! Please feel free to keep sending them my way!!!!
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pookiesnoodlin · 2 years
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reminder that 2022 has had nearly TWO HUNDRED (197) more anti-LGBTQIA+ bills proposed than in 2018. 2022 has had over 238 bills proposed in 2022, and over half of those are targeted towards trans americans (mostly trans YOUTH).
queer kids all over the country are at risk of losing their safe spaces (some already have, like in Florida because of DSG), gender-affirming medical care, and basically their right to exist as a queer (and more specifically trans) person.
for kids in certain states, being out as GNC (and receiving gender-affirming care) may mean their identity puts their parents at risk for being flagged as abusive. it makes queer kids and their parents pick between providing potentially life-saving gender-affirming medical care for said kid, and keeping their family in good standing with the state (or keeping their family together at all).
queer teachers are being doxxed by right-wing tiktok accounts, news outlets, and internet personalities. they're having their safety and livelihood threatened for existing as a queer person in a school doing savior's work teaching children. (taylor lorenz of the washington post wrote a great piece about libsoftiktok)
*TW: mention of s**cide next paragraph*
the Trevor Project reported that their suicide hotline has had an unfortunately ridiculous amount of calls from queer teens who have been betrayed by the representatives that are supposed to protect them, as constituents and as HUMAN BEINGS. GNC youth are at an incredible risk of suicide right now because of the high volume of anti-queer legislation being proposed and passed.
this has been boiling for a long time. trump's presidency promoting nothing but hatred for queer individuals (appropriately deemed the Discrimination Administration by the National Center for Transgender Equality). previously beloved CHILDREN'S book author jk rowling coming out as a raging terf and proceeding to keep getting new sources of revenue from the wizarding world franchise. prageru starting video series and programs aimed at children to drag them down the rabbit hole of right-wing propaganda (Big Joel on youtube has a great video on this specifically). other countless right-wing internet personalities feeding their audiences more propaganda and shit about queer teachers grooming children and trans women being legalized peeping toms (fun fact: a study by the APA found that transphobia is statistically more likely to occur in right-wing circles and that right-wing ideology is basically built on the traditional gender-roles a lot of GNC hate is originated from). disney continuing to fund these bills then profiting off of queer-related merchandise and trying to absolve themselves of their crimes against queer people with charlie disney's coming out (fuck you charlie disney. here's Emily Gwen's caard, the creator of the sunset lesbian flag which is being used by disney without compensation).
they gave us gay marriage and hoped we wouldn't think about everything they're taking away from us. they gave us biden and hoped that would pacify us long enough to let them steal everything from queer children. all those 238 bills were in just the first quarter of 2022 alone. they're moving fast and viciously.
educate yourself on this wave of anti-queer legislation. write your representatives, tell them to vote yes on the Equality Act. donate to human rights organizations (the Trevor Project, the ACLU, the Human Rights Campaign, Freedom for All Americans), and if you can't donate, share their donation page and their information with the people around you. please don't let them win. protect our children, protect queer youth, protect trans kids.
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Hollows and Halos, Chapter 3
Summary: Aziraphale/Crowley-centered. Aziraphale discovers that Heaven might not be as fantastic it seems to be, Crowley discovers that wet dreams are actually a brutal thing (yep, there's smut) and Beelzebub discover that they can actually be afraid of something. Gabriel's just Gabriel.
Notes: Cross-posting this from my AO3 (Fereikan). Trigger warnings for arachnophobia, attempted sexual assault, heartbreaking and suicide attempt of teenagers. Basically, everybody needs a hug. Oh, and I'm messing around with religious believes. I am so lost in my addiction of this series and, on top of it all, struggling with writing and basically everything in my life at the moment. Comments make me ineffably happy. <3
Present day
Back in Heaven, Aziraphale smiled. That was basically all he did during his first days as Supreme Angel: whenever someone passed him by, he smiled. When he was alone in the office he'd created for himself, he smiled at the papers waiting to be read, and he smiled at the white walls or at the empty chair next to his own. It was what everyone expected of him. Smile, be polite, be angelic. It had been the right decision – right? Aziraphale wondered, especially when the empty chair looked back at him and continued to be empty, how doing the right thing could feel so awfully wrong.
*
Beelzebub strolled through the streets, hidden from unfriendly eyes (and eyes in general) thanks to a miracle Gabriel had performed. This morning, however, they wouldn't have given a shit had anyone seen them – early mornings were awful. How could humans survive this vile time of the day again and again and again? They needed coffee. Coffee with a lot of caramel syrup. And they needed it very, very badly. Their grumpiness slowly subsided when the thoughts of the previous night came back to them. Gabriel's huge, heavy body covering their own petite one, Gabriel kissing them, Gabriel moving inside them, whispering sweet words of love and praise... Their lips curled into a smile. Maybe memories like these had humans survive mornings.
They slipped past a group of giggling teenage girls chanting “Mary loves the douchebag, Mary loves the douchebag!” into Nina's coffee shop. It was not Nina, however, but Maggie who welcomed them. “Good morning, dear. The usual?” “Yeah,” Beelzebub slurred, “and add some extra syrup today.” Maggie nodded, gave the Prince of Hell an understanding smile and started pouring a ridiculous amount of steaming coffee followed by a ridiculous amount of caramel syrup into a cup to go. Before she handed it over, she drew a pattern of hearts on the cardboard with a black pen. “There you go, lovely. Hope your day will get better.” The demon gave a weak nod and left 50 pounds on the counter. They always did, and in the beginning, both Maggie and Nina had tried to refuse it, but quickly learned that you didn't mess with the Lord of the Flies (of course, they didn't know it was actually the Lord of the Flies they were talking to, but yeah, you simply didn't mess with them). Beelzebub insisted they simply didn't know about money's worth, but deep down inside, Gabriel was sure they wanted to do something good. They wanted to help. And it made him beam with pride.
They were almost back on the street when they noticed something was off. “What the...” The group of teenage girls had gone silent at a table in one of the shop's darker corners. All of them kept staring at their smartphones, agape, their drinks and pieces of cake abandoned in front of them. An aura of darkness surrounded them, yet Beelzebub could not detect any evil force at the table. Someone started screaming, high-pitched and terrified, others joined in: one of the girls had dropped her mobile, taken the fork and driven its prongs full-force right through her left eye. Only a few seconds later, the other girls followed suit.
The Prince of Hell frowned. Normally, they would feast on such an incident, but it still felt wrong. Maybe just a new internet hype. The 'take a shop's slogan literally' challenge or something like that. They sipped at their coffee and left the girls to their fellow humans, unaware of the most beautiful woman the city had ever seen, who watched the spectacle from an even darker corner with glowing eyes and an eerie smile on her unearthly face.
*
Crowley had finally reached the bottom. Waking up somewhere with no memories of the night before was bad, but waking up on the fucking sidewalk next to a dubious bar was next level, even for him. He had the worst hangover ever. Well, at least since the French Revolution when he'd had six bottles of red wine, countless glasses of schnaps and ten litres of... A group of men approached him. There was one face he vaguely remembered, and he groaned. “That's the fucker. Thought you could fuck with me, fucker?” Crowley raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. He wasn't frightened, not anymore. Since Aziraphale had left, nothing mattered. If anything, their unexpected appearance made him even angrier. “Very eloquent, you are. That's exactly what I didn't want, in case you forgot.” He spat on the ground, managing to get a few drops of saliva on Jean-Luc's/Kevin's shoes. “Your poor little ego can't take being rejected?”
The big guy he'd made out with the day before (why did he do that in the first place?) stepped forward and grabbed the demon by the shoulders, kicking him into the ribs with his meaty knee. Crowley panted as the air was knocked out of his lungs, blinding rage pulsing through his body. Yeah, he could've used his hellish powers, but why spoil all the fun? “That's so grown-up of you,” he hissed, just before the next punch made his jaw crack. “You don't turn me on and then turn me down, boy,” the stranger yelled, pushing Crowley onto his knees by his hair. “Your bad – for now, you'll have to deal with all of us.” The sound of a zipper did it for the demon. With a furious scream, he jumped to his feet and leaped at his opponent, having them both crash onto the dirty sidewalk.
Of course, the strangers didn't have a sense for fairness; four against one was obviously perfectly fine for them, as Crowley felt fists and boots punch and kick him in a frenzied staccato. He was bleeding or bruised everywhere in no time, hair in wild disarray, and he knew he would lose. Sure, he could still use his powers, but to be honest, he didn't see why he should. If today was the day and he would... vanish, so be it. The pain was nothing he wanted to deal with anyway; he dared to think it would all have been better if he hadn't known Aziraphale at all, and this thought was even worse. If your smile is the last thing I see, it's been worth it. Six thousand years of being the bad guy. I'd do another six thousand years just to kiss you again. And you'll never know.
On the verge of passing out, a bright golden light caught Crowley's attention. He had already seen it somewhere, but couldn't remember the place or time. Like a pillar, the light extended into the sky, and it was the most beautiful thing the demon had ever witnessed. It felt so warm and gentle as its rays caressed his bruised skin, and there were long, single white feathers floating to the ground, surrounding him. A silhouette was all he could see through the veil of blinding gold, a human body with wings twice its size and eyes glowing violet. Aziraphale. His heart stuttered in his chest.
The humans stood watching in awe, then in terror as soon as they discovered the eyes. Glowing ones always made them cautious, except for Halloween. “If you can't take a no for an answer, you should probably not have any conversation at all,” Aziraphale suggested and the next instant, all men realized with horror that their mouths were sealed. Crowley burst out laughing, spitting out a considerable amount of blood. “Nice one, angel,” and regretted it the moment he'd said it. Don't praise him. He's the enemy now.
The strangers didn't feel the need to stay any longer and hurried off, trying to use their voices but producing nothing but muffled sounds. Aziraphale held out his hand, helped Crowley get up and carefully tapped off the dust from his demon's clothes. All without looking him in the eye. “I thought you might need help.” Crowley pulled a face. Why did Aziraphale seem so fucking insecure and fragile? This only made the whole matter more complicated. All the memories came back to him: Aziraphale thinking he'd really accompany him to Heaven. Aziraphale returning his kiss and then rejecting him for “the Greater Good”. Aziraphale left it all behind – what for? “Well, I don't. At least not yours.” The look of utter pain on Aziraphale's face... It almost broke Crowley's heart to break his angel's. But it had to be done. If he didn't want him, he had to burn it all away. Everything they had been. Everything they could have been.
Aziraphale's violet eyes shone with tears. “Crowley, I... if I had known...” “Then what?,” the demon spat, “You would've repeated every single one of your actions, 'cause you're so fucking eager to please!” His cracked lip hurt like Hell when he yelled, but it was fucking worth it. “You've found your way and I'll find mine, angel. Don't worry 'bout me, stay Up There in your high castle, I'm fine with that!” When he limped away, he was too angry and upset to hear Aziraphale's broken whisper: “Please don't leave me. I think I made a...mistake.”
*
Beelzebub hated spiders. Like, they didn't just find them revolting as a considerable amount of humans did – they hated them. During the past few thousand years, some of their flies had become a victim of these vile creatures, trapped inside the predators' nets where they faced a disturbingly slow, agonizing death. They'd been eaten alive. Their poor little beautiful flies, vanishing into spiders' guts. The only case when mentioning a spider was okay turned out to be a song: when they heard The Cure's “Lullaby” for the first time, they almost forgot how terribly afraid they were of the eight-legged creatures. Good thing the singer (who they had secretly become a fan of) was also terribly afraid of them. The Prince of Hell shuddered and shifted uncomfortably in their sleep. They normally liked this human type of rest, but this night, it felt wrong. It felt as if they'd been caught in a trap.
Before they could locate their position, they heard The Sound. The dreaded, horrible Sound which gave them goosebumps, and they started wondering if they were sleeping at all or if this was actually real. “Lord of the Flies, Prince of Lies,” they heard a voice croak, and The Sound came from everywhere around them; a scraping, a scratching of a million little hairs against stone, an ugly click of mouthparts.
“Lord of the Flies,
Prince of Lies,
can't escape my reach,
I'll feast on your cries.”
Prince of Lies. A name they'd tried to forget but had never been able to really leave it behind. A name that had two origins: one went back to the time they'd fancied calling themselves Loki, a smug, arrogant, lovely creature with the hair the blackest ebony and eyes the greenest green, remembering the ladies (and gentlemen) falling in love with him of the tarns passing through the Scandinavian mountains like icy veins. Oh, how the people of old had feared him! He never spoke the truth, and it had been so. Much. Fun. Zoroastrian belief had given them the same name, though it had come into being in a different way. As Nasu, a genderless demon, they had hidden in corpses to whisper words of evil to the dead. Everyone who had heard them swore it was the Prince of Lies trying to talk the living into dirty deeds. (Sometimes, it had worked. Had been fun, too.) Both of them were not part of Beelzebub anymore. Now, there was only Beelzebub, the one Gabriel loved. No need for disguises, never again.
The noise engulfed them, and the spider finally came into view. It was monstrous, big as a house, but wore the face of the most beautiful, immaculate being the Prince had ever met. A mask sewn to an eight-legged, hairy body, ready to devour first their flies, then their Lord.
“I'll rip you apart,
I'll bleed you dry...”
“Who are you?,” Beelzebub shouted, but no words would come. When they looked down, they discovered they were trapped in a sticky cobweb. Eight legs moved closer, mocking them with the way they gracefully danced around the net, reached out for them and backed off again.
“You know I'll come,
but won't know why...”
One of the hairy legs pierced right through the Prince's chest. Beelzebub screamed as loud and intense as they could – it hurt so fucking much, the pain burnt them from the inside, yet they could not move a finger. Suddenly, the ground was shaking, everything was, stones and dust flaking off the ceiling, their body bounced up and down, only held by the cobwebs...
“Beez? Beez, my firefly, wake up!” Disorientation. That was the worst part of sleeping. “Gabriel, my sweet...what...where...?” Good to know that their voice was back. “You are safe, love. I'm here, you were sleeping peacefully, but then you started...screaming. What was wrong?” Beelzebub blinked a few times, their heart rate slowly went back to normal, thanks to Gabriel who held them tight. “I've been dreaming.” They sounded as weak as they felt and desperately tried to stop the shaking of their hands. Gabriel kissed their forehead, then their mouth, and tried to be reassuring: “Dreams are not a bad thing per se.” Beelzebub sighed. “Not per se, no. But...I've been dreaming involuntarily, my sweet.”
*
“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be Up There, praising someone or stuff?” Crowley crossed his arms in defense and glared at the angel who had followed him to the shabby hotel he was staying at, his eyes the angriest yellow he could muster. “I...” Aziraphale seemed so lost, struggling for words. He deserves it. I'm not going to help this time. “I...oh please, can I come in?” Rolling his eyes, Crowley opened the door for the celestial to enter and slammed it shut again. “I'm asking again, and I won't do so a third time: what are you doing here?” Aziraphale nervously twisted his fingers. “I couldn't stay in Heaven, knowing you are Down Here, Crowley. I...I missed you too much to bear. Needed to see you. Touch you.” Oh, oh, that was bad. Really bad. Well, I'll jump the train. He raised an eyebrow, challenging. “Touch me, then.”
He'd never do that. Never. He'd rather...oh! Aziraphale's mouth was on his lips, completely unexpected, and kissed him, open-mouthed, sloppy and desperate – and perfect. Two strong arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him close, so close he feared he might choke, and didn't care. “I am so sorry,” he heard the angel sob, “so, so sorry, Crowley. Please forgive me.” Aziraphale ground against him, hungrily. Feeling the angel's erection press against his own was...wow. His palms were sweaty when they tucked one of the silvery strands of hair behind the angel's ear. “Then show me just how sorry you really are,” the demon breathed against delicate skin. Pure sin. Temptation. Both of them were.
That escalated quickly. Crowley's legs started shaking once he realized what Aziraphale was doing: the angel, his angel, had knelt down and was face to face with his crotch now. Unsure of what to do, he peppered Crowley's clothed erection with kisses, licking the leather of the demon's trousers occasionally. “Sweet Hell,” Crowley muttered, found the celestial's hair again and caressed the soft silky curls. Aziraphale's eyes locked with his, a question visible in the violet pools. How in the fucking universe could he look so damn innocent facing the ineffably hard erection of a fucking demon? “May I...?” Crowley gave a chuckle close to hysterical. “Isn't that obvious? Hell, if you don't start anything right now, I'm going to implode.” Aziraphale, now with flushed cheeks, opened the buttons on Crowley's tight trousers with trembling fingers.
“No underwear?” He chuckled, and Crowley did the same. “It's inefficient. And unnecessary.” “And hot,” Aziraphale whispered which sent shivers right down Crowley's spine. His angel found him hot. There'd never been a better day in the whole history of the universe for sure. His cock sprang free, the tip glistening with beads of precome, and slapped against Aziraphale's waiting lips. “Delicious,” he heard the Supreme Angel purr – a sound that was nothing short of obscene. Aziraphale's tongue darted out to lick at the head, experimental at first. Without warning, Crowley's shaft was engulfed by the wet and tight heat of the angel's mouth. “Oh shit...” Grabbing Aziraphale by the hair, he started thrusting in earnest, hips rocking back and forth, back and forth, which he could've done for the rest of eternity. His angel had other plans, though. A wet pop and Aziraphale wiped his mouth, smiling up at Crowley. “So eager, are we. I'll give you something so much better.” Fuck, it's going to happen. We're getting it on. Fuck.
“Suck.” Crowley opened his mouth obediently to wet three of Aziraphale's slender fingers. He made a show of it, teasing the gaps between the soft skin with his snake tongue, and moaned as if there was no tomorrow. Well, who knew if there would be? If they were really going to have sex, the Supreme Angel and a traitor of Hell, anything was possible. “On your back,” Aziraphale whispered way too soon and not soon enough, and pushed the demon onto the mattress of the rickety bed. Patting Crowley's insanely long legs, he added: “Spread them nicely for me, dear, will you.” And oh, the three fingers circled the rim and plunged inside, the promise of a rough ride, just as he liked it. Crowley cursed in Latin and at the same time started riding the digits inside his hungry body while he held on Aziraphale's wrist for dear life.
“That's it, lovely,” Aziraphale cooed, “keep fucking yourself on my fingers.” The dirty words coming out of such a divine mouth almost pushed Crowley over the edge. Almost. Don't end this so soon. You're not 15 anymore. Suddenly, his whole body tensed, shaking with pure bliss when Aziraphale's fingers curled and found that special spot inside him. “Oh fuck,” he yelled, head falling back, and pushed further down onto these skilled fingers. Yeah, prostates were definitely one of the better parts in God's creation of the human body. Crowley's movements became frantic. His hips stuttered when he bottomed out, only to lift himself up until nothing but Aziraphale's fingertips remained inside his well-used hole. “Angel, please.” “Please what, my desperate?” “Fuck me. Please, get inside me, I... I can't keep this up much longer.”
“Patience is a virtue, my dear. We'll clearly have to work on that.” “Not today though.” The angel chuckled. “No, not today. And now relax.” Crowley found the other celestial's cock slick and lubed up – the most precious waste of a miracle. Aziraphale lined himself up, thrust forward and felt Crowley's walls part for him, and oh, he'd never been closer to God for sure. He closed his eyes and slid deeper inside with a violent shudder. Crowley's head fell back, almost collided with the wooden headboard and bumped into the pillows. “Oh fuck, angel,” he groaned, arched his back and tried to get hold of Aziraphale's thighs, hips, anything, to push him to the hilt inside his quivering body. “This feels...oh sweet Hell.” “How do you want it, demon? Hard and rough?” “Hard and rough,” Crowley confirmed while he grabbed his own ass cheeks; partly to spread them further for Aziraphale's girth, partly to touch where they were joined.
The Supreme Angel placed Crowley's legs on his shoulders, lifted his hips and hit that spot again, now fully inside the trembling demon. “Mmh, you feel wonderful.” Hot breath, a husky voice. Reality became blurry with every thrust. “Ah, Aziraphale, I'm going to...fuck, this is too much, I-”
A loud knock on the Bentley's window woke him up with a start. Crowley blinked, quite confused, at the police officer outside his car. “What the actual fuck...” The human knocked again, louder this time. “Hey! You can't park here!” The demon breathed in, breathed out, and tried to will away his persistent and very painful erection. “Sir, if you don't make way right now, I'll have to...” “For fuck's sake, I'm leaving, man!,” Crowley shouted, snapped his fingers and had the Bentley drive on its own. He didn't bother what the officer might think of a self-driving vehicle. After all, you weren't supposed to drive when you were upset, and he was sure the car had everything under control.
As the Bentley slowly rolled out of London (by now, the “Best Of” Queen tape in his stereo had turned into a 10 hour version of R.E.M.'s “Everybody Hurts”, though the singer sounded much like someone called F. Mercury), leaving the city's vibrating life behind, Crowley buried his face in his hands and finally let the frustrated tears fall. His oldest house plant, a bright green Epipremnum, gently patted his shoulders with one of its vines, and he had never been more grateful for having a friend who did not feel the need to talk.
0 notes
icedflames · 3 years
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If you only like two characters in an entire series and constantly make posts shitting on the rest of the series, why are you even here? 
Why not read and discuss something else that brings you joy?
42 notes · View notes
watchmegetobsessed · 3 years
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TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)
a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!
pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader
warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce
word count: 11.2k
SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist
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“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”
You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.
“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.
“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”
“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”
“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.
“Then what is this about?”
“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.
“Complaints?”
“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”
“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.
“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”
“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”
“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”
You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.
Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.
“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.
“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.
As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.
“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.
“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.
“What?! Why?”
“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”
“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”
“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.
“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.
“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”
“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”
“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”
“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”
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You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.
You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.
“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”
“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.
“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”
“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”
“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”
“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”
“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”
“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.
“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”
“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”
“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.
“No, living with a stranger.”
“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.
Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.
“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.
There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.
Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.
“This is her.”
“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”
“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.
“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”
“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.
“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.
“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”
“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.
“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”
“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.
“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”
“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”
“How about tomorrow afternoon?”
“That can work.”
“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”
“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”
“Would three o’clock suit you?”
“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.
“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”
“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”
You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.
“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.
“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”
“With who?”
“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”
Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.
“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.
“You know Izzy’s dad?”
“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”
“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”
“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.
“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.
“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.
“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.
Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.
Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.
Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.
There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.
Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.
Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.
“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.
“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”
“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.
“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.
“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.
“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.
“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.
“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.
“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”
“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.
“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”
“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.
The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.
“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”
“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”
“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”
“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.
“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”
“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.
“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”
To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.
Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.
“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”
“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”
This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.
“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.
“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”
You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”
Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.
“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”
“Thank you.”
Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.
“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.
“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.
“Five!”
“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.
“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.
“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.
“Oh…”
“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”
You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.
“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”
“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”
“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”
“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.
“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”
You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.
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“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”
Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting
“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”
“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.
It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.
As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.
Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.
It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.
“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.
You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.
“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.
“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”
“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”
“Of course!”
Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.
“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.
In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.
“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”
Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.
“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”
“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”
“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”
“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”
“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”
“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”
“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.
“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”
You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.
“Yeah, sure, thank you!”
“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”
“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.
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The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.
You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.
“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.
“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”
Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.
“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”
“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”
“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.
“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”
“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.
“Have you looked him up yet?”
“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”
“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.
“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.
“What?”
“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”
You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.
“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”
“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”
“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”
“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”
“Yeah.”
Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.
Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.
“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.
“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”
“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.
“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”
“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”
“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.
“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!
“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”
You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.
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The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.
“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.
“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.
You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.
His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.
She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.
You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.
“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.
“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.
“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?��
“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.
“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.
While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.
“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.
“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.
“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.
Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.
“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.
“Hey baby. How was your day?”
“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”
“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”
“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.
“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”
“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.
Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.
While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.
It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.
“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.
“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.
“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.
“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.
“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.
“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.
“Uh, chicken and veggies.”
You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.
“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.
“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.
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The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.
The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.
Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.
You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.
Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.
Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.
Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.
A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.
“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.
“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.
“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.
“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”
“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.
“Not at all.”
“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.
“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.
“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”
You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.
“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.
“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.
“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.
You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.
“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.
The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.
“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”
“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”
“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”
“Really?” you ask, surprised.
“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”
This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.
“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.
Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.
“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.
“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.
“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”
“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”
“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”
“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”
“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.
“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”
“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.
All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.
After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.
“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.
“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.
“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”
“I, uhh—I don’t…”
“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.
“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.
“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.
“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.
“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.
“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.
“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.
“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”
“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.
Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.
“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.
You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.
“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”
Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.
“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”
Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.
“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.
“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”
“A lesson?”
“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”
It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.
“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.
You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.
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The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.
You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.
For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.
It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.
A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.
But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.
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theasstour · 3 years
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and sent me an ask after last chapter ❣️ I might not have gotten through all the asks yet, but know that I see all of you and I appreciate you more than I will ever find the right words to articulate 🌟 Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me of how fun it is to post my stories on here! Love you sm sm sm 🥰
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Tuesday, 4 November 2017
One of the worst things Y/N knew of was seeing someone she cared about go through something troubling. If she knew them well enough, it would be written out on their face and in their gestures, making it so that she could not ever look past it and pretend everything was alright. Her ability to read people, to understand their wants and to see when something was off, was something she had crafted over many years of being a people pleaser. Now, it came naturally to her to study a person’s way of acting, talking, being, and then make them happy accordingly.
She realised when she grew older that the reason she did this was so people would look past her body and like her for who she actually was. She hated herself sometimes for still giving in to this need to please people all the time. She hated the things it had made her do in the past, how she had bent herself over backwards for people who did not, and would never, give a single shit about her. Though she felt at home in her body, she felt content in it, these tendencies to constantly make up for how she looked, to make light of it or make people feel comfortable around her, still hung around. With absolutely everything she was, Y/N hated that part of herself. She did not have to make up for anything. What did she have to apologise for? For existing? It did not make sense to her, but it had made sense to those that bullied her in school and those skinny people whose worst fear was becoming fat. Y/N’s worst fear, because of this, was not being liked. She realised how it all connected now.
Y/N realised how this need to please people came into play as she was sitting in a seminar room with Hayden, Chloe, Thian, Annalise, and three others from the International Society that Annalise often went to. Annalise was whispering in Dutch to the other Dutch girl she had met, while the rest of the room was relatively silent. Hayden had put on some music to lighten the mood, but it was evident that they were unsatisfied and sad. They were eight people; a single game of Uno was being played in a room that had been made so that at least 20 people would show up. Hayden had bought five decks of Uno, only for the one they brought with them to London to be the one the group ended up using. Their eyes drifted to the door every so often, silently begging for anyone else to show up to what looked to be a disastrous start to their Uno Society.
After two hours, they had to get out of the seminar room and go back home. As they were cleaning up, Y/N walked over to Hayden and helped them put their Uno decks and everything else they brought, back in their bag.
“More people will show up next time,” Y/N assured them.
“You’re just saying that.”
“No, I genuinely think more people will show up at one point.”
Hayden smiled at Y/N, though it did not reach their eyes. “If we don’t have at least 15 people by the third meeting, this won’t be considered a society by Helmond standards and we won’t be allowed to meet on campus grounds.”
Y/N felt a small tinge of panic at that. This was not usually the society people would jump to be part of, it would take a little while for people to want to show up to an Uno Society on a Tuesday every fortnight.
“We can hope more people will come, but I doubt they will,” Hayden said.
“There aren’t a lot of people our age who play Uno, though,” Chloe said as Hayden and Y/N made their way to the door.
Y/N furrowed her brows at Chloe’s comment, but did not say a word.
“No, but I love Uno, and it’s a very social game. It’ll be fun if a lot of people show up, you know?” Hayden said, closing the door behind them before they walked down the corridor for the exit.
“Obviously, people just don’t know what they’re missing,” Thian chimed in, showing off his usually wide, happy beam. “It’s a great idea, Hay.”
“Really? It’s not bound to flop?” Hayden asked, scrunching up their nose as if they could not quite believe what Thian was saying.
“Of course not,” Annalise said.
“It’s a nice break from all the assignments,” Y/N said.
“By the way, speaking of assignments,” Chloe groaned. “Y/N, have you started on the Othello presentation yet?”
“You haven’t had the presentation yet?” Thian asked.
“No, different Introduction to English Studies seminar groups have presentations at different dates,” Chloe said. “Since Y/N and I are seminar group E, we have it last. Monday, 4th of December.”
“That’s still a while away, though,” Hayden pointed out. “You still got a month.”
“Yeah, but the presentation’s 40% of the final grade. I know I’ll ace the essay, but we only get to have a five-minute presentation on Othello.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to talk about how Othello’s a sexist play in just five minutes?”
“Easy,” Thian said. “You talk about how it’s a sexist play for just five minutes. You love to talk, it’ll be easy peasy.”
“I love to gossip, this is entirely different,” Chloe complained.
“Not really,” Y/N said, cocking her head a little to the side as the group rounded a corner. “You’re essentially just gonna gossip about Othello and what’s wrong with him and the way Shakespeare wrote the play.”
Chloe stared at Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips as she thought. A grin spread out across her lips and she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re right.”
“It’s gonna be fine,” Annalise smiled.
“And by the time that happens, the Uno society will be history,” Hayden mumbled, making Thian pout his bottom lip and wrap an arm around Hayden’s shoulders. They all made their way back to Dinwiddy, Lancaster Complex, and Fleming Hall, three of the seven different campus accommodations. Dinwiddy was definitely of a bit better standard than Lancaster and Fleming, but Y/N was sure that, had she decided to live on campus, she would have gone for either Lancaster or Fleming like Annalise, Thian, and Hayden. She said goodbye to all of them and went on her way, walking back to Haggerston while talking to her parents on the phone. They always insisted she call them if she walked out alone at night, no matter how many people were around.
The shops she strolled by were starting to put up Christmas decorations and sales, making Y/N long for holiday. She just wanted a few days off uni. Though it was only the first year, the amount of work they were getting was ridiculous, and Y/N felt like she either spent most of her time in the library with her Literature gang, or at a café with Nathan, doing uni work. The fact that Christmas lights and decorations were already making an appearance, gave her some hope.
Getting to Orsman Road was no problem, and Y/N hung up with her parents when she reached the flat building. The mere thought of her bed made her knees buckle, she could not wait to be snuggled up in a blanket and watching the newest true crime series on Netflix. Once inside, she got her shoes and outwear off, then walked straight for the kitchen. She halted.
In a pair of worn-out black rugby shorts and a black hoodie, Harry stood pouring water into the kettle. The muscles in his legs flexed and unflexed as he moved, making it impossible to look away from his thighs. Y/N could not find the right words to express just how much she hated those tiny shorts. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Except he didn’t. He was very much just trying to wear something comfortable at home and Y/N was ogling him. He looked up as she entered.
“Hi,” Y/N said, walking over to the fridge where she kept her oat and banana milk.
“Hi,” Harry answered, watching her as she walked before putting the kettle on. “Been out shagging old men?”
Y/N blinked a few times before looking over at Harry as he put a teabag into his mug. “You’re very obsessed with my sex life.”
“I’m just nosy.”
Y/N sighed, knowing this was true from experience, and went back to getting her milk out of the fridge. “No, I was at a society meeting. The first one, actually.”
“Oh?” She could see in her peripheral vision that he turned around to watch her. “What kind of society?”
“Uno.”
Silence settled in the kitchen, and Y/N could hear Nathan and Mason in the living room next door playing something on the PlayStation. Y/N could feel Harry continue to just look at her as she poured herself a glass of the oat and banana milk. It was not until the milk was back in the fridge and Y/N met his eyes, that Harry spoke again.
“Uno?”
“Like the card game.”
“That’s… a niche interest.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re being judgemental.”
Harry’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, no! I-“ He stopped himself, taking a grip of the kettle and quickly pouring himself a cuppa before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, something frantic shining within his own. “It’s just a very specific interest and society.”
She raised one of her shoulders. “Which is what makes it so amazing.”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry said quickly, gesturing at her with his hand as if he completely agreed. Y/N wanted to laugh at how fast he was talking, as if he was desperate for her to understand that he was not being judgemental. “How was it?”
“Barely anyone showed up,” Y/N explained, sipping her milk.
Harry frowned. “Really?”
“Yeah, and at least 15 people total have to show up for it to be considered a society, or else Hayden, my course mate, can’t continue hosting on campus grounds.” Y/N sighed, looking at the ground. “Basically, if Hayden doesn’t find, like, twelve more people to join within the next two times, we won’t have a society any longer.”
Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then, the sound of quick footsteps could be heard, and then Nathan’s face appeared in the doorway. A grin spread out on his face as he met Y/N’s eyes.
“Thought I heard you come in!” he exclaimed. “We’re playing GTA, wanna come drive some people over?”
Y/N smiled at that, scrunching up her nose. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m gonna have to decline.”
Nathan pouted his lips and Harry stood watching quietly. “Why?” Nathan asked.
“Have an essay that I need to finish.”
Nathan sighed heavily. “Fine. Guess I’ll let you write that bloody essay.”
“Excuse you? ‘Let me’?” Y/N rolled her eyes and Nathan laughed. She gave him and then Harry a smile, making her way out of the kitchen.
“Have a good night,” she heard Harry say as she walked through the doorway. She gave him another smile before walking up the stairs and to her room. She quickly got out of her clothes and into loungewear, taking all her make-up off and finding a fluffy blanket she could sit under in bed as she started writing her Introduction to English Studies essay. She could hear the boys shouting and playing downstairs and drowned it out by putting her earbuds in and shutting them out.
She ended up reading academic articles and writing down an essay plan until she felt her eyelids get heavy a few hours later. Putting her laptop away and finishing her oat and banana milk, Y/N took her contacts off and started getting ready for bed. The door to the room beside hers opened and closed, she could hear Harry rummaging in his room, though the sound was not disturbing in any way. The only disturbing thing about it was the fact that it was Harry, but Y/N was learning to accept that. It had only taken her two months, but she was coming to terms with the fact that Harry Styles, an ex-good friend of hers and person she had sex with once, was living and sleeping in the room right next to hers.
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Friday, 17 November 2017
The pizza at Domino’s was absolutely amazing, but working for them was anything but. This was only Y/N’s first shift, and she was already dreading her next. Not only would she be bringing home with her the memories of a horrible first day on her new job, but she would also be bringing the smell of greasy pizza. She would have to do a deep clean in the shower before going to bed, she was not rubbing that smell onto her bedsheets.
With some experience working for Pizza Express before, Y/N was already well-versed working for a pizza chain. Pizza Express had been her job from 15 until she moved off to uni at 19, which she knew was what must have given her this new job at Domino’s rather quickly. As much experience as she had working at Pizza Express serving people, she had never been the one to drive around delivering pizzas. After all, she had not gotten her license until sometime last year, so it had never been a possibility. However, in the job description for this position at Domino’s, it had clearly stated that Y/N would be working mostly as a delivery driver, something that sounded chill at first, until she realised she would have to go deliver pizza to people that would be anything but friendly. Or maybe a little too friendly. Because of her inexperience in this particular field of the job, she had another employer join her for her first shift.
Isla was very quiet, maybe even a little too quiet for Y/N’s taste. She would mostly just stare out the window, sometimes chime in to help Y/N pick a quicker route, or help her make out how much she owed the customer if they paid a few quid too many. Other than that, Isla did not really offer much conversation wise. Even when the two of them picked up the pizzas for their first drive, the first time they spent together, Isla did not say much.
“Have you worked here long?” Y/N asked, giving Isla a smile so she would know that she was actually asking out of curiosity and not because she felt obliged to.
“A year.”
Y/N nodded as she sat down behind the wheel, Isla sitting down in the passenger seat. “I worked in Pizza Express at home in Nottingham before I moved here. Dunno why, I’ve always preferred Domino’s to Pizza Express. Though, Zizzi is top tier.”
Isla only nodded slightly.
Y/N had waited for a response, but realising she would not be getting one, she started the Domino’s car and started driving in the direction out of the parking spot on the street beside the tiny restaurant on Homefield Street. Y/N almost drove right into the Domino’s mopeds that all stood on the spot in front of the car. She just knew that at one point, she would be driving one of those. She followed the instructions on the GPS, up Hoxton Street, in the direction of Lavender Grove. Without any radio on, the car was very quiet. Too quiet. It made Y/N break out in sweat.
“Do you drive around with deliveries often?” Y/N asked.
Isla shook her head. “No.”
Y/N whipped her head back in the direction of the street in front of her, trying to produce spit so she could nervously swallow. Her mouth was too dry. “You work by the till then?”
“Mostly.”
Y/N smiled. “That’s the best place to work, isn’t it? Don’t have to drive around, don’t have to actually make the food.”
Isla gave a feeble smile. “I suppose.”
God, all Y/N wanted as an okay day. All she wanted was for one single day to be alright.
Isla would twine a single piece of her brown, bushy hair around her finger sometimes, then put it behind her ear, only to go back to fidgeting with it. Y/N was unsure if she was nervous to be in a car with someone she did not know, or if she was just deep in thought. Y/N wanted to get to know Isla, to make a friend at her new workplace, but she did not want to harass Isla if it meant it would make her uncomfortable. It was clear that she did not like being this close to Y/N considering the two had never met before and would now be spending a good six hours together. Therefore, to not push away what she hoped to be a future mate, she only made occasional conversation and then left Isla mostly to herself. She could sense that was what her companion wanted most of all.
In a particularly dodgy part of Lea Bridge, Y/N was delivering three pizzas to what she knew even before knocking on the door, would be to a rather creepy encounter. The man that opened the door was bald with glassy eyes and a blue tee shirt tucked into his grey joggers. At the sight of Y/N, he grinned.
“Three pepperonis?” she asked, wondering if this man just really loved pepperoni pizzas or if he was hosting a party.
“That’s me, yeah.”
“Alright.” Y/N handed him the three pizzas just as another man emerged from behind him, and it was then that Y/N noticed the incredible stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Some 80s rock was playing from a stereo and there did not seem to be much light on inside the flat. Y/N suddenly felt very sick.
“You pre-paid,” she stated, more to reassure herself that she could just leave than to make them aware that she knew they did not have to go get any money to pay her. “Have a nice night.”
“Wouldn’t be nice if you didn’t stick around,” the bald one holding the pizzas said.
“Yeah, why don’t you come inside? Have a bite with us?” the other one offered. “You look like a hard-working girl, why don’t you take a few minutes off with us?”
Y/N could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her hands begin to sweat. “No, I have to get back to work,” she said, giving them a smile before walking off.
“Wait, we didn’t give you a tip!”
“Come back, love!”
Y/N tuned them out as she walked down the stairs, keeping an eye over her shoulder and her ears on alert as she made her way back to the car. Isla was sat on her phone when Y/N sat back down in the driver’s seat, putting her seatbelt on a little too fast and gripping the steering wheel harder than she had previously. She just wanted to get away from those men, she just wanted that shift to be over.
“You okay?” Isla asked. The first question she ever asked Y/N. First time she ever took initiative to start a conversation. Y/N really appreciated it in that moment.
“Yeah,” Y/N said, sighing heavily. “Just hate men.”
Isla must have understood what Y/N was talking about because she nodded, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “I’m sorry you met the worst type of customers on your first night.”
“Had to meet them at one point, though,” Y/N said.
“You shouldn’t have to meet them at all.”
Y/N felt that statement reverberate through the car, lay in the air between them for quite some time after it was said. She could not stop thinking about it as she drove to the next destination, feeling disgusted and angry. Had she stayed there a second longer, she would have had to resist the urge to knee them both in the space between their legs. This was just one of the stupid encounters that night, though the rest were more so on the scale of weird than disgusting. Like a man that was clearly high thanking Y/N for his frozen milk when he had ordered three Ben and Jerry’s, or a woman with her hair a mess, make-up completely destroyed, and just her dress robes on, snatching the pizza out of Y/N’s hand before hurrying back inside. It was a strange few hours, and as she drove the car back to Domino’s Homefield Street, Y/N felt absolutely drained of energy.
Walking home after her shift at 3:30am was next to torture, she just wanted to be in bed, cosy underneath the covers, and forget about the fact that she was working tomorrow night as well. Though the Hoxton Street was washed in the yellow lights from the streetlamps and the occasional car driving by, it was anything but empty. Drunk people were walking home from pubs, while others, like her, walked home from another nightshift, and some were just out for a night stroll. She walked without listening to music, not feeling comfortable with not being completely aware of her surroundings when it was dark out. Besides, she was so tired as well, listening to music would probably put her to sleep.
Orsman Road was completely deserted, only a few people walking home from The Stag’s Head passed her smelling of beer and cigarettes. This street was darker, smaller, and less busy than Hoxton Street, so Y/N opted to walk in the middle of the road instead of in the shadows. She felt less vulnerable that way. As she reached the flat building, she got her keys out of her purse and went to unlock the door.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
She jumped, keys falling onto the asphalt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Harry standing there with the smuggest, most infuriating look on his face. God, how she wanted to slap him until his teeth fell out. While she contemplated how to physically hurt him, Harry bent down, picked up Y/N’s keys, and put them back in her hand.
“Don’t lose those,” he said. “50 quid to get a new pair.”
Y/N only narrowed her eyes, unlocking the door for them both and striding on to the next floor. After opening the door to the flat, she got her shoes off, and walked straight for the kitchen. She needed strawberries, especially after the shift she just had. The door closed behind Harry and she heard him lock it before taking his shoes and jacket off, too. As she turned around after closing the fridge door, Harry stood by the kettle, filling it up with water.
“Didn’t know you worked at Domino’s,” he said, looking over at her briefly, nodding at her black Domino’s fleece jacket before turning his attention back to the kettle.
“Just started.”
“How’re you finding it?” he asked.
Y/N sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “Considering this was my first shift and I have to show up again to work another nightshift tomorrow…” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “I’d say shite.”
Harry laughed, stopping the tap. “Tea?”
“No, I bought myself some banana and oat milk from M&S earlier, I’ll just have that. Thank you, though.” She gestured at what she had placed on the counter while he was busy with the kettle.
Harry watched her as she got herself a glass for the milk. “Can’t for the life of me remember you being a Tory.”
Y/N laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember me hating the poor?” she said, putting on a posh accent, Harry could not hold back his own laughter. “Quite a big part of my personality, don’t know how you missed it. Now-“ She put the milk back in the fridge. “-If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend five weeks at my £1.000.000 18 century holiday house in Surrey.”
Harry’s laughter echoed through the kitchen as he put the kettle on, shaking his head at her. “No, but how’d you like your first shift? Anything like Pizza Express?”
Why the fuck did he remember that? Why did he have to remember everything? Bloody hell…
“Not for me. There were just a lot of creepy men, and some very dodgy neighbourhoods. I’m sure that’s not all there is to the job as a delivery driver, I’m sure I was just unlucky my first time, but I can’t really afford to quit unless I have a backup.”
Harry frowned at that. “If you don’t like it and you feel unsafe, you don’t have to continue doing it.”
She nodded her head. “No, I know, but it’s still the only job I could find and that I could get at the moment. I’ll apply to others later.”
Harry’s frown deepened, crossing his arms over his black, tee-shirt covered chest. No tattoos on display. She wondered why he only had tattoos on his chest and torso.
“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice a little darker than before. “But if you feel unsafe-“
“-Harry, I practiced capoeira when I was younger, remember?”
At that, as if he was slowly unveiling a memory he had not thought about in a little too long, Harry smiled. A small, fond smile that Y/N remembered from a previous life; a life with far less troubles, far less complications than this one.
“Of course I do.”
Not “yes”. Not just “I do”. “Of course”. He had said “of course”, as if remembering was a privilege. As if not remembering would be the strangest thing in the world. Y/N hated that this man did not forget a single thing. Never had, never would.
“Well,” she said, trying to act normal after that. “Well, I can hold my own.”
“Good to know,” Harry smiled, getting a teabag from his cupboard. As he turned his body and face away from her, she saw something glisten in the lights of the kitchen. Two earrings. Two gold earrings right next to one another. In his ear. Y/N would never admit to it out loud, the sight made her mouth salivate. “But I still think you should quit if you don’t like your work.”
Y/N opened the strawberry container and took one out, taking a bite. She needed to look away from Harry, away from his two earrings, and away from him because he was making some points. She knew where Harry was coming from, she really did, but she could not go on living in London, using money every single day, and not have an income. Until something better came along, this would be her job. “How’s the pub?”
“Alright,” Harry said, pouring hot water into his mug. “I’m having my last shift there December 15th.”
Y/N blinked. “You’re quitting?”
“Yeah, I’m starting a new job in January.”
She raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, good for you. What one?”
“Tattoo artist.”
He had to be fucking kidding at this point. Y/N had to do everything to keep her eye from twitching.
“Just got my tattoo license, so I’m ready to go come January.”
Y/N did not want to admit it. She could not admit it. She physically could not. But… everything about Harry… everything he did, everything he said… It all hit different. And it did not help that Y/N, who loved tattoos, getting them, having them on her body, and seeing them on someone else’s, was now made aware that Harry could legally give people tattoos. He was going to become a tattoo artist in January. Y/N wanted to eat chalk.
Harry just looked at her, studying her face. “You okay?”
She swallowed the strawberry bite she had just taken. “Fantastic.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Did you draw your own tattoos then?”
For the second time that night, Y/N was witness to Harry’s smug smile. He raised his cuppa, cocking his head a little to the side as he said, “You’ve seen my tattoos?”
Y/N wanted to die.
“You’ve been sneaking into my room to watch me sleep, that it?” Harry asked. “You’ve probably seen the tattoo I have by my crotch then, too-“
“-Oi!” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Piss off. I saw them when you were wearing that low-neck top at Footprint.”
Harry took a sip of his tea. “If you say so.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and Harry laughed.
“It’s jokes, Y/N.”
“Good. I’m genuinely scared you think I fancy you.”
Harry smiled. “You mean you don’t? Really?”
She took a hold of her strawberries and milk. “Goodnight, wanker.”
“I’m a dreamboat, what about this-“ Harry gestured at himself, flexing his arm muscles that weren’t really there. “-Doesn’t give you the fanny flutters?”
“You’re disgusting.”
Harry laughed.
“I was just interested to know about your job as a tattoo artist ‘cause I love tattoos,” Y/N explained.
Harry’s eyes travelled down to Y/N’s hand where the ‘M’ was tattooed, it lingered there for a moment too long. For some unknown reason, a tingle started up in Y/N’s thumb, making its way up her arm and to her breasts, then her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her ribs where he must have seen her ‘saudade’ tattoo. Though it was not visible right then, it seemed as if Harry was seeing it all the same, sensing it somehow. At last, his eyes met hers, and Y/N felt something in her throat stop working. The tingle that had laid in her stomach just seconds earlier exploded, slithering all throughout her body and making her hyper aware of how knowledgeable Harry was of the tattoos on her body; of her. He must have paid more attention to her than she thought he had. Something about that made it hard to breathe. Bloody hell, she hated how fucking fit he was. She hated how she reacted to his glance, to his attention.
“I can tell,” he said, voice a tinge darker than before.
She was surely about to explode. Blinking a few times, she held her strawberries up, nodding her head to Harry in a silent goodbye, then made her way towards the door.
“Oh, Y/N,” Harry said, making her look over her shoulder at him. “Do you want some Ginger Nuts? I’m having some with my tea-“
“-No thanks. Goodnight.” Y/N walked straight out of the door and to her room, needing to stick her head out her window to cool down in the Regent’s Canal breeze before sitting down in her bed again. How could he be considerate, respectful, smart, pretty, and sexy at the same time? Some otherworldly powers had truly been at work these last few years to make Harry Styles into everything Y/N was attracted to.
She did not even want him as a boyfriend, she never had, there had never been any romantic feelings between them before and there never would be, but he was just so… so… frustrating. In every single sense of the word. He was just… very attractive. Very pleasing to look at. Everything that got to Y/N. And Y/N wanted to scream at Harry for making it so hard to ignore him, and at herself for falling for it.
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Wednesday, 29 November 2017
Y/N was originally going to travel home to Nottingham that Friday so she could stay home that weekend. She had not been home since September, and though they only had two weeks of uni left before Christmas break, she wanted to go home this weekend. She missed her parents terribly and wanted to see them so badly, she could simply not wait until Christmas. So, because it was the last Wednesday of the month, Y/N travelled back up to Nottingham.
Every last Wednesday of every month, Davi would invite all of his Brazilian family who had settled in Nottingham after he had, as well as Lottie’s parents, over for feijoada. Brazil has many region-specific dishes, yet the one that best translates into a nationwide dish is the beloved feijoada. The name stems from the word feijão, which is Portuguese for bean, and also the key ingredient of feijoada, which is essentially a bean stew mixed with beef and pork. Though, depending on what region of Brazil you are in, you will find different ingredients added to the feijoada.
In Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, feijoada is almost always cooked with black beans, while in Bahia, red or brown beans are preferred. In Bahia and Sergipe, they also usually add extra vegetables to the feijoada such as plantain, kale, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and pumpkin. However, in the rest of Brazil, feijoada is simply beans and meat with no additional vegetables. It is served with white rice, shredded kale with bits of fried bacon, crispy pork crackling, and slices of oranges that are meant to aid the digestion of the heavy meal. Which is what Y/N had grown up eating.
Typically, it is served at noon on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as this hearty meal is a thick mixture that will have you full in no time. The only activity Y/N would recommend after it, is bed and a good book. Maybe even a little nap. Their big family often used to eat it during the weekend as it meant more time spent with the family, more time spent chatting and being social, but Davi who worked in a bakery, had often worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, meaning that it would fit best for the family to keep the tradition of hosting the meal on Wednesdays at Davi and Lottie’s house. Which was why Y/N was on her way home that Wednesday at the end of November.
Closing Vidas Secas by Graciliano Ramos that she had just been reading, Y/N got up from her seat to get off the train. Graciliano Ramos was Y/N’s favourite writer of all time. Though she loved English Literature and especially loved studying it, she always found his works to be better than most. He was the only modernist writer she could stand. São Bernardo was her favourite of his novels. A story about a man who, having been born poor, gets rich using any ruthless means he can and ends up utterly alone. It had stuck with Y/N her entire life. The main character’s ability to love others, his selfishness, and arrogance, make up one of the most complex characters of world literature, in Y/N’s opinion.
In the last chapter of São Bernardo when Paulo Honório reflects on his life alone at night, Y/N found some of the best few pages she had ever read. The closing words ‘I ruined my life stupidly’ express the agony of a man whom Y/N learned to despise throughout the book, but who, thanks to the mastery of the author, leads us with him through his tragic life choices towards self-destruction. Y/N got goosebumps just thinking about it.
Stepping off the train with her small bag and book under her arm, Y/N walked straight for the train station exit. She recognised her mother’s brown hair in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of colourful flare trousers on along with a white buffer jacket. Lottie jumped up and down at the sight of Y/N and ran for her daughter, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.
“My baby,” she said, kissing Y/N’s cheeks and forehead. “Oh, my Y/N.”
Y/N hugged her mother back, burying her face in her mother’s neck. She did not care that she could hear Vidas Secas fall into the tiled floor or that her bag would get dirty where it lay, all she cared about was her mother’s embrace and the smell of home around her. She was fluent in two languages, yet Y/N could not find a word that could quite capture how happy she was to be home just now.
“Okay, my dove,” Lotte said, taking Y/N’s bag off the floor. Y/N bent down and picked up her book, bringing it to her chest. “Let’s go home.”
The two of them walked out to the car park, and Lottie quickly started driving them in the direction of Y/N’s childhood home. The familiar ride and the familiar city outside the car windows made her relax, sinking far into the seat until she felt enveloped in safeness and contentment. It didn’t take them long to reach the semi-detached brick house, all their family members’ cars parked out front and visible in the windows overlooking the street. Y/N took her own bag this time, and her mother led the way up the stairs to the house so she could open the door for her.
There was no time for Y/N to go upstairs with her bag and book, because she was bombarded with hugs and kisses the second she stepped inside. Her grandfather, avô, her grandmother, avó, her papai’s two sisters and her aunties, tia Gilma and tia Lara, their husbands and her uncles, tio Jaren and uncle Finnley – who was British and had met Lara after she moved here -, and her seven cousins, or primos. They all came rushing to her, with her British grandmother and grandfather grinning and waiting for her to be done hugging and kissing everyone. Being with them and smelling feijoada everywhere, made Y/N almost tear up. Blimey, ever since moving away to University, she had become so incredibly sappy.
“Amorinzho!” came like a scream from the kitchen. Davi came out into the foyer with his apron still on and the biggest grin on his face. He threw his arms around Y/N. “Eu tenho saudade de você.”
She had missed him, too. So much. She felt safer, more at ease, almost more herself now that she was reunited with her parents close.
So, she told him that as she whispered, “Eu também senti sua falta,” back. Her papai hugged her a little tighter at that, grinning at her with tears in his eyes as he squeezed her shoulders.
“Y/N!” avó shouted from where she now sat in the living room, her grey hair in a long braid down her back and a big knitted cardigan wrapped tightly around her small frame. “Venha comer!”
“I’ll come eat in a second,” Y/N said. “I just need to put my bag in my room.”
“I’ll do that for you, my sausage,” Y/N’s grandfather said, stroking her cheek before he bent down and brought the bag with him up the stairs to her room. Since her mother had been an only child, her parents, Y/N’s grandparents, had always been very caring and constantly present as Y/N and Marcela had been their only grandchildren. Not that her avós had not been present, because they really had, her entire family had, but her grandparents’ life had no meaning if it were not for Lottie, Y/N and Marcela.
Y/N walked past all her family and to the kitchen where her papai stood making her a plate of feijoada. He handed it to her and she smiled at him before helping herself to some rice. Just then, Lottie walked into the kitchen as well, hugging Y/N from behind before she walked over to make her daughter something to drink. Silence stretched out in the kitchen as conversation started back up again in the living room, everyone talking about everything and nothing, in English and Portuguese. But, something that was unusual for her parents, they did not say a single thing. Though this might not be unusual for some, it was extremely unusual for someone who came from a generally very talkative family.
“Charlotte,” Davi said, looking over at Lottie. “We should…”
“Not yet.”
Y/N looked over her shoulder at her parents. “What?”
“We should tell her.”
“She just got home, Davi,” Lottie reasoned. “We can tell her later. Let her enjoy her feijoada.”
“No, what’s going on?” Y/N asked again, turning her body to face them now.
“No, amorinzha,” Davi said, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Your mother is right; we can talk about it later. It’s not appropriate to do it now.”
“What’s going on? What’re you talking about?” Y/N looked at her papai, then at her mum, both of them sharing a look with one another that Y/N did not understand. Over the years, she had become a master at deciphering what her parents were discussing when they shared looks, though she never managed to quite understand the proper subject of discussion, she could detect the mood. She understood this was more of a serious matter.
“Tell me,” Y/N said, feeling her heart begin to beat a little harder, a little faster, the more time went by without any of them saying anything.
“Fine,” Lottie sighed. “Put your plate down first.”
Y/N did so reluctantly, not taking her eyes off of her parents. If it was serious enough for her mother to want her to put her food down so she would not drop her plate, then Y/N was on the fence if she even wanted to know what was going on or if she wanted to live in blissful ignorance of it.
“Your pai and I have decided to sell the cabin.”
Y/N’s heart stopped beating. Her body felt numb, the chatter in the living room deceased to exist as she just looked at her mother, and then at her papai. Her mum, and then pai. Suddenly, as if slapped with a brick, Y/N’s brain roared to life and her body came as hot as coal. She looked at her mother who had been the one to speak, her mouth falling open and shutting again as she continued to process what she had just been told.
“You’re… you’re going to sell the cabin?” Y/N asked them, just to be completely sure that what she heard was correct.
“Yes,” Davi answered.
“You’re selling the cabin?” She could not believe it.
“Y/N-“
“-You’re selling our Newport cabin? The one in Wales?” she asked again, her voice rising now. They did not have any other cabins, but Y/N just had to know she was not mistaken. They couldn’t… They couldn’t just…
“Y/N, we never go there anymore,” Lottie reasoned. “We want to spend the money we use on the cabin on something else, we don’t know what yet.”
“So, you’re just going to sell the cabin where your daughter was murdered?” Y/N asked, voice filled with so much rage she barely recognised herself when she spoke. “Where Marcela was most likely stabbed? You’re selling that cabin?”
“We’re never there because she was… she was killed…” Davi cleared his throat. “Spending time inside that cabin when we know what happened inside it, does not feel right.”
“No, selling it isn’t right,” Y/N said. “What if there’s more evidence inside? What if there’s somewhere they haven’t looked?”
“Baby, they have cleaned out the cabin and there’s nowhere they haven’t looked. There’s nothing more they can investigate,” Lottie explained. “We don’t want to own that cabin anymore.”
“Kit murdered Marcela in there,” Y/N said. “Her murderous ex-boyfriend is running around somewhere because no one investigated that cabin thoroughly enough.”
“Selling it doesn’t mean they are going to stop investigating Marcela’s case, amorzinho,” Davi pointed out.
“We don’t… We still don’t know if Kit did it,” Lottie mumbled. “It was most likely him, but there could have been someone else who killed Marcela, Y/N.”
“Marcela’s body hasn’t been found, there’s no trace of Kit’s blood or remains on that property. That murderer is on the loose, something inside that cabin can tell us he killed her, I am sure of it.”
“Y/N, Kit hasn’t been seen since the murder either. Maybe he was killed, too,” Lottie said.
“Mum, Kit was a rubbish person, why are you sticking up for him?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face.
“We decided, Y/N,” Davi mumbled, rubbing his daughter’s back. “It’s happening.”
That was all Y/N needed to hear. She took her plate in one hand and the glass with water her mother had made her in another, and she walked straight past everyone in the living room and up to her room. She felt like a child stomping past everyone like that, but she just needed to be with her thoughts. There was absolutely no way they were selling that cabin. Not that cabin. Y/N was sure there was evidence in there somewhere, the police and the investigators had just not looked thoroughly enough. That was all. And if they had done a shite job, well… that just meant Y/N had to do it for them. She had to go to that cabin and look for herself once and for all. After all, who else would? It did not seem like anyone cared anymore.
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NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 21th March, 9PM GMT!
Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​​ 🏛️
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danniburgh · 3 years
Text
Rushingly Bittersweet, (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 1.
Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.
Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel's operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.
And he couldn't seem to stop any of that.
Word count: +2.1k
Series warnings: talks and mentions of misogyny and sexism, cursing, smoking, drinking, eventual sex, cartel shit, watch me make some shit up to fit reader inside the narrative, guns, dea shit, feels, javier actually being a little bit more introspective, just basically me inserting reader into the third season
Chapter warnings: depictions of misogyny and some cursing
A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode one. // this has been simmering in the back of my head for way too long, i even made a post about it just trying to ease the weight of my thoughts but my mind keeps racing with more things about this exact story, so here goes nothing. THIS GOES ALONG THE CANON OF THE THIRD SEASON kinda (so yeah, spoilers if you haven’t watched it yet), i actually had to watch it to write this because in the end, you’re a fucking DEA agent baby (also please keep in mind that english is not my native language, im really trying for this to be GOOD) 
Read on ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist
comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged
// next→
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You knew you chose a difficult job, hell, a difficult career, you knew you had to prove yourself, your worth and your abilities countless times, at this point it wasn’t even that much of a surprise anymore. Every time you encountered another man in the office or in the field, you had to spend an incredible amount of time first proving you were capable and you knew what you were doing before even getting to work.
Yet you got comfortable in your previous destination, you had a team, you had people to trust and trusted you back, they knew you were more than capable, you didn’t have to tell them to listen to you or your ideas, you didn’t have to ask for anyone’s approval. You were just another agent.
But now you had to do it all over again.
“Shit” you growled, trying to unwrinkle your blazer with one hand, the flight down to Colombia hadn’t been at all gentle to you and you were tired and cold. Your feet were sore, your back was killing you, you were fighting the desire to get rid of your suit skirt and run to put some pants on, everybody was lying when they said Colombia was a hot place, the air was chilly, and the dress suit you were wearing barely provided any meaningful heat, and the fact that nobody went to pick you up at the airport made you even more frustrated. You were still pulling around your suitcase because apparently the embassy is such a fucking mess that not even one person told you where you were going to live yet. 
You showed your badge to the guards at the doors and they let you in without much of a look. You walked right through the lobby into the elevator, sighing in relief. Thanks America and its air conditioned buildings.
The elevator doors opened and you walked straight inside of the DEA offices, they were small, cramped and dark, great, just how you liked your work spaces.
“Hi” you said, approaching the small front desk, the receptionist looked up at you and smiled, it was the first smile you saw in a while and that made you feel a little less frustrated, you pulled out the badge again and showed it to her “can you please direct me to the office of Javier Peña?” you asked.
The girl tilted her head to the left in confusion.
“Are you agent Martin?” she said with her thick american accent, you put the badge again in the pocket of your dress pants and nodded to her.
“Yes, is he– is he expecting me?” 
“Not really, but agent Feistl is,” she said, pointing to a cornered desk almost in the back where a blond man was sitting, he looked up at the sound of his name and you sighed again.
“Oh, yeah, I talked to him on the phone, thank you,” you said, smiling a bit back to her while you walked around the unoccupied desks in the front of the office “Feistl” you said his name once you reached his desk, stretching out your hand to shake his “agent Martín” you said “it’s nice to meet you” he looked at you, frowning, but took your hand nonetheless and shook it.
“Chris Feistl” he said, a little taken aback and another man approached both of you “this is my partner, Daniel Van Ness” the larger man gave you a single nod and you shook his hand again.
“You’re agent Martin?” Van Ness said.
Here we go again.
“My last name is Martín, first name Florencia” you said, accentuating the í in your last name, inhaling the tension around and making it your own, yet another time “I’m guessing you were expecting a man?” you dropped, they looked at each other “don’t worry, it happens everytime” you finished with a small grin.
They remained silent, looking at you, yet another time you let them, although for a single moment you actually wondered if there was something wrong with the way you looked; you gave a glance to yourself on the elevator walls on your way up and aside from your hair being close to look like a mess you were ok, you take another second to try to analyze the men in front of you, the way they were standing, the expression on their faces, they were shocked that was for sure, but also… relieved? and somehow… happy?.
“Is there anywhere I can put this?” you asked, glancing at the suitcase.
“You came here all the way from the airport?” Feistl asked, you nodded.
“Yeah, no one showed up so I just grabbed a cab” Van Ness snorted and you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, “where’s my desk?” you asked again, starting to feel more frustrated but also a bit amused when again they didn’t say a thing, “you did get the memo that you’d be getting a new person today, right?” you questioned in a huff, a bit louder, looking at them in utter disbelief. Fucking embassy, fucking DEA.
“Is agent Martin here?” you heard your name being called from behind you, the men in front of you just widened their eyes and looked at you. 
“That would be me” you announced, turning around, seeing a tall, tanned skin, sweaty man approaching you, “and you must be Javier Peña” you said, allowing yourself to be more assured, stretching your hand again.
“You are agent Martin” he said, making it sound half like a question, half an assertion, looking at you up and down, he put his hands on his hips, not bothering to take your hand.
“Florencia Martín, yes sir” you dropped down your hand and pronounced your last name again, trying to get american people to pronounce your name was hard, and you hoped at least Javier Peña would understand it, yet he said it wrong. He just stood there and you glanced at him discreetly, he, differently from the men behind you, was a walking ball of frustration, you sympathized and tried to read his posture. He was trying to be cocky but his try died in his eyes, he was shocked, surprised and not at all entertained.
“No wonder why I couldn’t find you in the airport” he growled.
“You were also expecting a man” you affirmed, this time, a small hint of disappointment grew inside your stomach “don’t worry, it happens all the time” you repeated roughly. You turned around to your new partners, not caring and ignoring the look your new boss was giving you “my desk?”
Van Ness pointed a small cubicle behind his and Feislt’s big desks, you suppressed a sigh and walked towards the space, still pulling your fucking suitcase, feeling the looks of three men in your back. You were used to this, you had done it countless times, and you knew you weren’t the only woman that has gone through this. But after spending the time you spent in one single place, with the same people, doing the same thing, after having an amazing partner that had believed in you since the day you almost punched the shit out of him on the academy, after having your own office to work with him, after having faced many masculine faces disapproving you being in the same rooms as them while chasing bad guys, after receiving thousands of condescending looks when you said anything, and yet being capable of raise everybody’s expectations, starting it all over again not only sounded hard, it also sounded exhausting.
Javier couldn’t believe his fucking luck when he looked at you. He certainly was expecting a man, Washington only told him so much and he assumed what everyone did when they heard your last name, in the end it was a masculine name. For some reason he felt guilty when you told him you always get that reaction.
He tried to examine you, ever the analyzer, but he got nothing, not from the way you were still standing in front of the ridiculously small cubicle, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor, or the way you kept putting a thin strand of hair behind your ear and it kept falling in front of your right cheekbone, nothing from the way you reached for the manila folder that was waiting to be picked up or the way your fingers moved around the pages. You seemed unreadable to him and he didn’t like that. Not one bit.
You turned around when you felt his stare, he was still just standing there, looking at you.
“Is this really everything I have to be briefed on?” you questioned him lifting the folder in your left hand. He nodded and turned to the right to walk to his office “well fuck that” you murmured under your breath. You heard Van Ness snorting again and looked at him giving you a small smile, maybe you didn’t say that as quietly as you wanted, you gave him half a grin and he shook his head.
You took off your blazer and sat on the incredibly uncomfortable chair.
“Shit” you whispered again.
“Fuck” Javier said under his breath, loosening his tie and crashing into his chair. He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hands and sighed. What the fuck did the people at Washington think. He was after a whole fucking cartel, he didn’t have his trusted partner this time, he was alone and he had to lead a team to do that, he had just lost two agents after they were stupid and reckless going around Cali and they dared to send down one random chick in some sort of replacement that for some reason seemed just so small and frail to him.
He was pretty sure you weren’t due to the fact that you were a DEA agent, but when he looked at you the only thing he could notice was the way your eyes were dimmed, maybe due to the fluorescent lights or the fact that you had flown who-knows how many hours to be there, or the way your hands seemed way too delicate to even handle a gun, or how your body looked breakable to the touch. 
He didn’t like the way his mind was forming his thoughts about you, it wasn’t right to think that way of a woman- no, a person- no, an agent he had just met, he just knew it was the macho part in him that saw you that way. He knew that if Washington had sent you all the way down to a god forsaken country fighting an unfair war, you had to be capable to endure it.
Javier scratched his stubble and reached for the thinest folder he had on his desk, it was your file. He grinned when he opened it, unbelieving of the almost non existent amount of information it had about you. It did have your full name, though, so, mistaking you for a guy was indeed his fault, just because he didn’t read the file before. 
He browsed through the last locations you had been sent to and raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of time you’d spent in the last place. No wonder why you were being so reluctant about everything you saw and how you were being treated. He remembered how he felt when he was a newcomer and he remembered what he had to go through with Steve when he first came to the country, it was awful, and even without the language barrier, as your file said you did speak spanish, he assumed you must feel like an outcast. It was never easy, arriving at a place where everything seemed like it belonged there but you.
Javier closed the file and threw it back to the pile of manila folders in front of him. He did have his doubts about you, and surely he was wondering why he had only been sent that joke of a file and nothing else, and he didn’t want to make your stay in Colombia or at the embassy a living hell, but he did want to see what you were able to do, he couldn’t wait for you to show him what you had in you.
That last thought sent him for a bit through a deliciously nasty tangent, and he had to bring himself back to the initial train of thought: you. 
You were now his. No– you were now in his team. He was now your boss. He couldn’t think of you in any other way even if sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.
Javier rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, wondering what were you working on before arriving, trying to think what was happening in México that made you stay that long.
And a question was forming in his head… What the hell did you do to be sent to Colombia?
// next→
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alirhi · 3 years
Text
Loki ranting
Okay. I had this thought in my head of like just compiling links of all the Loki shit I've posted/reblogged so far so that when I get into a conversation about the show and how it fucking disgusted me, I can just be like "here. here's this masterlist post, go read all this shit. This is my entire argument, and not only mine, but a lot of stuff posted by people far more intelligent and level-headed and eloquent than I am, whom I happen to agree with." Because the alternative is constantly getting fired up all over again, and that is exhausting.
BUT! I'm stupid and don't know how tumblr works. Apparently I can't just be like "give me all the Loki-tagged shit I've got" I can only search all the Loki-tagged shit on all of tumblr. And I'm not scrolling back through all of my posts. I talk too fucking much for that shit 😂
So, I'll try to remember all of my grievances with how the MCU has treated Loki, and all of the excellent posts made by other, equally upset fans, and put it all together here under this nice, neat little cut for everyone else's sanity and scrolling convenience...
For people who actually read my shit fairly regularly - bless you, you crazy, patient people. I love you! - this is going to be a lot of repetition of shit you've already read. Probably at least twice. I'm passionate and I have a terrible memory lol. Sorry.
Anyway, first, for those who don't know me and haven't been following my explosions of rage for the past couple of months, some quick background: I do not read comic books, so Loki's Marvel comic canon means nothing to me. I know almost nothing about it. The reason I'm so in love with the character in the MCU is because I am an eclectic witch and the deity I've actively loved and worshiped the longest in my life (literally for as long as I can remember) is Loki. So when he was mentioned in The Mask, I squeed. When they named Matt Damon's character after him in Dogma, I cheered.
When Thor came out in 2011, I just about died from happiness. I was hungry for any representation of this underappreciated god, no matter what it was. I didn't even bitch about how underpowered he was, because at least he was there. But I'm getting slightly ahead of myself.
I can hear anyone reading this going "Why Loki? Isn't he, like, evil? Like basically the Norse version of The Devil?" Because I heard all this shit irl all the fucking time. And no. So let me give you a quick rundown of who Loki actually is.
Loki is a Trickster God. He's often referred to as the God of Mischief. He is not and never was evil, simply chaotic and hedonistic. Loki Laufeyjarson was the son of Laufey (that's mama; they changed her to a man for some reason in the movie) and Fárbauti. Right from the start, from his name, we get a sign of how Loki goes against traditional norms of the time, because in Norse culture, families were patrilineal, and surnames were "son/daughter of father" (which would have made him Loki Fárbautitason), not the mother. But Loki's surname is matrilineal. Feminist icon woo! lol
Though he's a Jotunn, Loki is counted among the Gods (Aesir) in Norse tradition. Depending on his mood, he is alternately helpful or disruptive to the other Gods. I'm not gonna sit and teach a whole text class on him lol but I'll use my favorite example of Misunderstood Loki - the conception of Sleipnir!
So, get this shit. This is also part of why I DO NOT follow Odin and never fucking will (a very small part, but still part of the reason). So, the other Norse Gods are petty motherfuckers, and they wanted some shit built but didn't want to pay the dude doing the building. So they were like "okay, if you can get it done in X amount of time, we'll pay you, but if you can't manage it NO MATTER WHAT, this whole thing is free." And they made sure he had NO help, nothing but him, his materials, and his Very Good Horsey. And this guy and his horse were fucking BAMFs. So it was looking like he was definitely gonna get it done in time, and Odin was like "nah, fuck that shit. I'm cheap." and so he sent Loki to distract the work horse. Loki transformed into a mare and lured the horse away, got fucked, got pregnant, gave birth to the 8-legged (for some reason) horse Sleipnir. Odin rides Loki's son into battle. Um. Kay.
So Loki helped Odin be a petty mf, and Odin got himself a new pet out of the deal.
Oh, also, because he's smart af and a shapeshifter and a master magician and genderfluid, Loki "fails" to fit the super fucking toxic and narrow Norse/Aesir view of "a real man". He prefers intelligence and manipulation to solve problems rather than violence, he's not afraid to behave like a clown if it gets shit done, and that grosses the Aesir out, so they constantly ridicule him for being "less than a man".
Loki is the God of the outcast and the misunderstood. The marginalized people from all walks of life. He is the God of the LGBT community. In modern terms, he's pansexual, polyamorous (married to Sigyn and they are deeply in love, but boy gets around and I've never seen any indication that Sigyn gives a shit) and genderfluid.
Okay. Focus, Ali. This is part of why I usually post multiple rants instead of one big long one XD The longer I ramble, the more I get sidetracked and forget the original point.
So. Loki's awesome, and being a Trickster, is powerful as all fucking hell. There's not much he can't do.
And now we come to Thor (the movie, not the deity). Loki's there! 24-year-old Ali is spazzing! All is right with the world!
Oh lord, they've actually done him justice?! Amazing! He's complex and nuanced and emotional, just like the real Loki! I loved this movie. Loved. It. The climactic thing with trying to blow up Jotunheim never really made much sense to me until someone made an excellent point the other day about Loki being raised in a racist society that was racist against his own race, he just didn't know it yet, poor child. Baby Thor was never corrected when he pledged to commit mass genocide, so Baby Loki probably absorbed the lesson then that Jotunns=evil and killing them all will win his father's love. Anyway, 2011 Loki was a beautiful, heartbreaking portrayal of the God I've loved all my life and spent 24 years longing to see depicted on the big screen.
Then The Avengers happened. And I saw another Loki very close to Norse mythology - mainly, how he's treated. In the beginning of the movie, he's sick, exhausted, and in pain. He can hardly stand, he stumbles and needs help when he walks. He was very obviously tortured, and the sickly blue light of the scepter's control is in his eyes. That gets less and less pronounced as the movie goes on, showing Loki working his way free of it, but in the beginning, he's a mess. Because he was tortured and used by Thanos. Marvel directly confirmed this, and that he was under the scepter's/Mind Stone's control. Loki's actions are not his own in The Avengers. He's under both threat and Thanos' direct control. The movie actually shows The Other directly threatening him to keep him on task, because this is not Loki's plan. It is not what he wants. He's being used and villainized... Just like in real life. It hurt to see this done to him, but the accuracy was too beautiful to ignore.
Thor: The Dark World comes out. I've heard people complain that this movie is the weak link in the Thor trilogy. I disagree. I think that's Ragnarok, for a bunch of reasons, but we'll get there. (And for the record, I loved Ragnarok, too. It was a funny movie. Infinity War and the Disney+ series are the only portrayals of Loki in the MCU that I truly fucking hated.) Anyway, good, fun movie. Had its faults, as all movies do, but it still followed Loki's real-life arc in a way. How? By having Loki dragged back to Asgard in chains and imprisoned underground. Again, not super happy that this happened to my love, and having to see it on screen was painful, but at least in the MCU he's not chained to a rock with venom dripping on his face for eternity, so there's that. (poor Sigyn. how tired do her arms get, holding up that bowl? best wife ever, amirite?)
In TDW, we're shown Loki's love for Frigga, who favored him and taught him magic as a child. We see his bravado; his attempts to mask his true feelings, especially grief. We see him slowly coming back to himself after the events of The Avengers, and slowly mending his relationship with his brother. He accepts that Odin will likely never love him, but Thor just might, because they were close when they were young. "I didn't do it for him." No, no my sweet, you did it for your brother, and a little out of guilt for what happened to your mother.
At the end, Loki fakes his death and escapes, taking the throne, and I have mixed feelings about this. Not the writer's choices here; I love that completely! A natural progression in Loki's story. But my joy is tainted by how closely they're following the Eddas now. Because Loki's escape from his prison heralds the beginning of Ragnarok. And Loki will die in Ragnarok. I don't want to see that play out in front of my face. I won't be able to handle the grief (spoiler alert! IW broke me. I almost walked out of the theater. Loki's death was legitimately fucking traumatic for me. I don't even care how pathetic that is. That grief was real, it was intense, and I still shake and cry when I think about it.)
Marvel announces that Thor 3 will be called Ragnarok. The internet treats this as a shocking revelation. I roll my eyes and mumble "duh" to myself and move on XD
Then they say Ragnarok will be a buddy comedy. I throw up a little in my mouth and no longer want to live on this planet. If they're going to make something called Ragnarok, could they at least treat it with even a fraction of the respect they've shown these characters thusfar? Jfc. I mean, I'll see it anyway, because I'm a whore for Tom Hiddleston lol. But come on, people!
I hated that they made Hel the long-lost older sister and Fenrir her fucking pet/attack dog. Those are my favorites of Loki's children! Hel is such an incredible badass that the early Christians named their dimension of eternal torture after her! They were terrified of her, to the point of naming the place that terrified them most after her. That's awesome! And Fenrir's just the best. I love wolves. Those two details, and Odin's retcon of "we're not Gods! ...lol, except your sister. she's totally a Goddess. and def gonna kill literally everything, so... good luck! byyyeeeee" pissed me off royally.
The rest was great. I genuinely liked this movie. Still do. And they finally used The Immigrant Song! That was pretty cool. If they'd thrown in Bring the Hammer Down and Thunderstruck, I might've called this movie perfect. XD
I wasn't totally in love with their portrayal of Loki in Ragnarok. Yes, the falling for 30 minutes line was funny, as was "I have to get off this planet" and "YES! That's how it feels!" And "Get Help" was funny as hell. But also, like... There is no way Loki would have been the dumb one in that first encounter with Hela. Also, he can teleport and project copies of himself and shit, so... He would not have been that desperate to go straight back to Asgard and bring her right along with them. Loki's not stupid. But whatever. Movie's gotta movie.
What I did love was seeing the slow mending of his relationship with Thor continuing, and the badass fighting on the bridge. I also loved that, like Real Loki, Movie Loki helped when help was needed, was quick and clever, and while he was carrying out the main plan, he was also planning ahead and grabbing the Tesseract. Yes, that drew Thanos right to them, but that's a whole other thing. Loki never would have left that thing on Asgard to be destroyed or lost.
And now Infinity War. Hooooly fucking shit. You know what? No. I'm not going into this. He was killed, years of character growth were erased forever, my heart fucking shattered. The end.
Endgame. IW hurt me so bad I didn't see Endgame until this year. I actually watched Civil War first (for context: I had actively avoided all Cap movies until this year because I fucking hate Steve Rogers. I find him insufferable. Did not realize what I was denying myself until I watched CW and finally saw the charms of Bucky. When he appeared in IW, I was so lost. XD I was like "...who dis? Murder Jesus?" also I just... didn't care. I was numb by then from crying through most of the movie over Loki)
So, anyway. Endgame. Loki picks up the Tesseract in alternate 2012, escapes, fans go "yay! he didn't actually die!" I go "yes he fucking did. Five years of his life, gone. Five years of growth and change, erased. Loki is dead. This will not be the same."
I was more right than I could have predicted. Now we come to the point of this rant. Sorry it took so long, but you were warned lol.
The Loki series makes me so angry I actually get sick to my stomach. It was fucking TRASH. When I praised Marvel for following Norse mythology so faithfully earlier? Yeah. I DID NOT MEAN TREAT HIM THE WAY THE OTHER GODS DID. I did not mean paint him as a pitiful clown, a joke, a caricature of who he truly was, with his pain and suffering played for LAUGHS.
This is supposed to be 2012 Loki, newly freed from Thanos' control. The Loki we saw in the beginning of TDW - snarky, exhausted, nihilistic. The Loki who rolled his eyes and said "get on with it" expecting to be killed.
The bumbling clown flipping on a dime from posturing to calling himself weak is not 2012 Loki. That is not ANY Loki. That is Tom Hiddleston in a black wig doing what he's told by a shitty writer who had no fucking idea what he was doing and was salty about his (bad) original script (for something totally fucking unrelated) getting killed.
In Episode 1, Loki is mocked, imprisoned, stripped against his will, tormented, belittled, and given a flippant summary of all the trauma Actual MCU Loki suffered that this one skipped out on, with no context, no acknowledgement of the trauma he's already lived quite fucking recently, and with the narrative twisted to not only erase all the abuse he's suffered, but to make it all his fault. And this is supposed to make him want to help these people?
And worse, IT FUCKING WORKS. WHAT?! I CAN'T- FUCKING WHAT?! Remember when I said LOKI IS NOT FUCKING STUPID?! So why is he STUPID?
Episode 2, he's a child. Mentally, this Loki is a fucking child. Now we've erased all the growth and development of his entire adult life. He's dopey, impatient, impulsive, desperate for a pat on the back and actually shows it. Yes, abused and neglected children crave the positive attention we never received, and we often grow up to be a bit emotionally stunted. But not all of us, and not Loki. Not as we've seen him EVER in the rest of the MCU. Playful and a bit callous at times? Absolutely! But not a big dumb fucking puppy.
Episode 3, a ray of hope, despite Sylvie! (I hate Sylvie) Loki casually admits he's pan/bi; labels never come up, but he admits to being with both men and women! He sings! Not really relevant to whether I approve of his portrayal or not lol but Tom has a beautiful voice, Norwegian ("Asgardian" lol) is a gorgeous, entrancing language, and I could watch that one bit on loop for eternity and never get bored. And then, finally, we see a glimpse - a glimpse - of Loki's power! He stops a falling building and pushes it right back up! Are we finally getting to see what he can really do? Will the next episode bring us Loki in all his glory?
Nope. 4 and 5 we see him mocked and pushed around and utterly irrelevant. Again. We see tiny reflections of what he could maybe theoretically do in other random Loki variants, but the "main" (lawl. main. it was the Sylvie and Mobius show. Loki was never the main anything.) Loki? Nothing. He wears his heart on his sleeve for no reason, bonds with the man who imprisoned, taunted, and gaslit him, is killed, and continues to be a moron and a joke. Always the clown. Always the dumb one. The one with the bad ideas. The inferior Loki.
Don't even get me started on that finale. I can't. This already took so much out of me. Fuck Marvel. Fuck this fucking show. I just... I'm done.
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elencelebrindal · 3 years
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Female Cloths that have no reason to exist
You all know what I’m talking about, right? Yeah, you do. You absolutely do. 
I’m talking about three specific instances of Silver Cloths that, instead of looking like armor and acting like armor, are more like... oh, you’re a girl? Let’s show that body! Let’s have nothing but a pathetic excuse of armor that should you try to fight will have you easily stabbed in the guts. 
What pisses me off is not the (bad) design itself. It’s the fact that the Silver Cloths are described are armors that cover the body more than the Bronze Cloths. Yet, we have Marin, Shain and Yuzuriha wearing nothing.  These Cloths should adapt to the body of the wearer, right? Well, I want you to imagine how those pathetic armors would adapt to a man’s body. It’s so painfully clear that those armors (or lack of armors) were designed without keeping practicality in mind, but just to have something revealing.
This is a really long post, so I’m hiding it under the “read more”, but I wanted to put my thoughts out there because I’m honestly tired. 
We have example of functional armor. We have June (who’s still better in Awakening as far as design goes, imo), and we have Thetis. 
So first of all, let’s take a look at those good ones, shall we?
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This is, in my opinion, one of the best armors I’ve seen worn by a woman on this series. It’s not different from an armor you would see a man wear, just adapted to fit a woman’s body. It has everything; gauntlets, boots, cuirass, pauldrons... nothing’s missing.  A perfect example of how an armor should look. Not a comparison for a Silver Cloth, because the probability of a Silver Cloth having less pieces is high, but a comparison between a good decision and a bad decision. 
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This is really good for a Bronze Cloth. The amount of armor, given the description of those Cloths, is perfect. She has everything, and at the same time not too much, perfect for an armor of that rank, since we know that the Bronze Cloth cover the smallest amount of the body when compared to Silver and Gold.  The only thing I don’t like is that she has an impossible “catsuit” (I really don’t have any better ways to call that) under it. It would make way more sense if the upper part was more like a tank top, than whatever sorcery is going on. You ever tried to wear sleeveless anything? You know that stuff slips off continuously.  Aside from that, she’s amazing. 
The main reason why I wanted to present these examples to you is to clarify that I’m not complaining about how much of the body is shown. There’s plenty more male characters that literally are unable to stay dressed on this show (Shiryu, I’m talking to you, wear a goddamn shirt for once).  I’m complaining about how unfair it is to have female characters being so... in a way, objectified. We have good examples, so why not using those examples for characters that should need more than what they’re given?
To make this even more clear, another armor that has no reason to exist is this:
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Because honestly, a Surplice covering nothing of importance is really useful. 
I’m focusing on the female characters here because, while half a Surplice is bad, is not as bad as women wearing Silver Cloths that are supposed to be a better protection than Bronze Cloths and instead they get to wear metallic underwear.
This little armor: 
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only makes sense for a Bronze Saint. They are supposed not to have a lot of it. And yet, this example in particular has more pieces than the classic Eagle Cloth. It does nothing, but it literally covers more than a Silver Cloth. This armor also has boots, of course. 
Let’s tackle the problem, shall we?
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Try to convince me that she’s not wearing just a goddamn metal bra. Come on.  This is not armor.  This is Marin opening her closet, finding one of her fanciest bras, and wearing it alongside those gifts that are actual armor parts. 
The smallest Bronze Cloth of the classic series has a large total of pieces. Boots, gauntlets, some kind of cuirass, pauldrons, knee guards, helmet (in Saint Seiya the definition of helmet is weird, by now we know). Some of them also have those pieces that in a suit of armor could be faulds or tassets, some of them have simple belts, some have cuissess. Give or take 1 to 3 pieces, basically.  The smallest proper Silver Cloth has the same pieces, only they cover much more of the body. Or at least, they should, but we have examples of Silver Cloths literally being the same as Bronze Cloths. It makes me kinda frustrated, but knowing that those armors are stronger gives me a bit of peace.  The best Silver Cloth is the Lyra Cloth, obviously, since it actually matches the description accordingly. 
So... we have what? 2 for the boots, 2 for the gauntlets, 1 for cuirass, 2 for the pauldrons, 2 for the knee guards, 1 for the helmet, and give or take 1-3 pieces for the “optional” ones I mentioned. It’s 10 pieces of armor. 
How many pieces is the Eagle Cloth composed of? 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 breastplate (in absence of other words to call that), 1 plauldron, 2 knee guards, 1 helmet.  It’s 6 pieces of armor.  She’s supposed to have the same, if not more, compared to a Bronze. 
Not only that, have you seen what she’s wearing under it? How is that even remotely comfortable in battle? You know how many times that weird... what the hell is that? A tight high sock? would slip down during a fight? Unless she glued it in place, I highly doubt it’s a good fighting outfit.  It would have been better for her to wear either a single catsuit, or even to keep the leotard but have both of the red tights (preferably leggings uh, you don’t go to battle in tights) be a full piece. 
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The manga armor actually has one more piece. It’s not much, but it’s something. It resembles way more how other Cloth’s are treated, when the breastplate is so small.  However, it’s still missing boots. There’s literally no other Cloth, save for Ophiuchus, that doesn’t have boots. What now, they are too much for a woman to handle? June and Thetis have boots.  Marin gets leg warmers and shoes she has to personally provide, apparently, because her Cloth is a discount one. I get that it has to resemble an eagle, but come on. There’s totems depicting smaller animals that have more stuff. 
This artwork I found is from CamilleAddams on Deviantart:
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See how easy is to give her a proper armor? It’s still missing the boots, but it’s already much better. It looks like a Silver Cloth, now. And this is only one of the many “updates” I’ve seen made by artists way more talented that I could ever aspire to be. 
This is my own sketch of a proper Eagle Cloth:
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Is this really so unrealistic? To have an actually good Cloth for a Silver Saint?
Now, time to take a look at Shaina.
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How many pieces is this armor comprised of? 1 breastplate, 2 pauldrons, 0 boots, 1 gauntlet, 1 helmet, 2 knee guards. A total of 7 pieces, just one more that Eagle. 3 less than a basic Bronze Cloth. 
The same exact discourse applies to the Ophiuchus Cloth. Copy-paste what I wrote for the Eagle Cloth and use it here.  Also the hot pink leg warmers paired with yellow HEELS (which yes, are stupid), green leggings and brown leotard are a spectacular combo. Who in the fresh hell decided the colors for her, this is a disaster more than her Cloth. 
At least she actually has no gaps between leotard and (hopefully) leggings.
I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but the Omega Ophiuchus Cloth is so much better than this, at least in base concept. The art is as ugly as my face in the morning, but the concept is legit. 
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Look at this, ridiculous but PROPER armor. 
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Once again, the manga has one more piece. It looks like she’s not wearing shoes, but it’s the manga, I give that a pass. 
But this particular Cloth makes me unbelievably angry, and you know why? Because the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth exists. And the Ophiuchus Gold Cloth is the proof that this thing doesn’t need to be so useless, because if that can be proper armor, this could be as well.  It’s a design choice, and it’s a poor one to say the least. 
Look at the Gold Ophiuchus Cloth (render by LadyHeinstein on Deviantart):
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Look at this, and tell me that a decent suit of armor couldn’t be conjured for the Silver Cloth as well.  The Ophiuchus constellation is literally a man holding a snake. There’s no excuse for not having a human-like Cloth like, I don’t know, the Andromeda Cloth.  Instead, Shaina gets a version that’s not even half a human figure, with nothing to wear but discounted armor that honestly should go straight back to the shop where it came from. 
This is what makes me even angrier when it comes to this particular Cloth. 
Again, this is an “updated” version of the Ophiuchus Cloth by CamilleAddams on Deviantart:
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See how much better it is? How much more realistic it looks, when it comes to Saint armor? It looks like a proper Silver Cloth like this, even with no boots. 
In comparison, here’s my own sketch (much lower quality, I know) of the Cloth:
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It’s not that difficult! Just have them wear the same stuff their companions wear, is this so much to ask?
But now we come to the best one. Peak character design. So amazingly appropriate for battle that it’s stunning. Crane Yuzuriha from The Lost Canvas. 
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What. The. Absolute. Fuck. 
How is that a Silver Cloth? How is that a Cloth? Come on!
Leaving aside the fact that I hate how she doesn’t wear the mask (I made a post about this whole issue, back in the day, I’ll try to link it as soon as I can), she has basically no armor on expect for her legs and arms.  Whatever bullshit is going on on her chest is everything but armor.  She has sandals, for gods sake. Sandals. You don’t want to be a Saint wearing sandals, this is not Ancient Romans having wars for breakfasts, this is a supernatural warrior constantly kicking the shit out of stone and trees (generally speaking). How are sandals something appropriate for a Saint? This is the same exact stuff I wrote for the skirts of the Saintias, it’s not appropriate for the setting. 
But let’s leave this, and let’s tackle what she (doesn’t) wear under her armor. Yuzuriha, my dear, I know that you have abs of steel and you want to show off, but that’s an excellent way to get injured all over with no effort whatsoever. Unless you have invulnerable skin, you’d want to wear something better than booty shorts and bandages that are apparently glued on her boobs. Wear at least something like June, if you don’t want to have sleeves.  This is a design flaw, not something beautiful. The concept is good on its own, but a Saint should NOT be dressed like that. They’re constanly being thrown at whatever surface is the hardest at the moment. Imagine your bare skin sliding at the speed of sound on rocks and dirt.  It’s not only unpractical, is technically dangerous. And I get it, this is an anime, everyone is invulnerable unless blood is needed, but even then this is utterly ridiculous. 
And now, the most ridiculous thing of them all: the breastplate.  It’s literally two sheets of silver feathers apparently glued to her skin. Nothing more. It’s not armor, it just... it’s literally nothing. She’s better off not wearing it, at this point, because it’s useless. 
She would just need a better breastplate/cuirass for that Cloth to be appropriate. Everything else is fine (minus the heels, but at this point why do I even try).  In comparison, a male Saint wearing that Cloth would probably end up shirtless, either the Cloth adjusts itself to the body or not. Who in their right mind would go in battle shirtless????? (yeah yeah, Shiryu and Dohko, but those two have armor on when they don’t act like strippers, at least pay them good money dammit). 
What infuriates me is knowing how the other Silver Cloths are like. It’s painfully obvious that Yuzuriha had to be the edgy woman with revealing clothes and armor, when you look at the REAL Silver Cloths of this series. 
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Those shrtless dudes also want trouble, but at least they are somewhat covered. They still need to wear a goddamn shirt, but they also have more armor.  Why they can be THIS normal, but Yuzuriha has to look like she lost half her armor in a dumpster fire and tried to make to with the remnants?
I really like her as a character, and I don’t mind her wearing what she wears (dude, she’s can afford to dress like that, I wish), but the Cloth is terrible. 
The women in Saint Seiya Omega were better equipped than these three poor souls. I don’t like that series at all, and I forgot at least half of it (if not more) since the last time (aka the first) I watched it, but they do have more properly designed armors.  These three - Marin, Shaina, and Yuzuriha - are a perfect example of what you don’t have to do when designing armor for female characters, unless you don’t actually need the armor and it just aesthetic.  June and Thetis, on the other hand, are the perfect example of what you HAVE to do when designing armor for female characters, following the circumstances and the setting. 
Thank you for reading my (way too long) essay. Have a good day. 
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draconicfaenerd · 4 years
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Obey Me Theory: In Which God is an Asshole and Solomon Might be a Good Guy?
Okay, here’s the deal. I have way too much time on my hands at the moment and was suddenly struck with inspiration, so I decided to cook up a little theory of my own.
Well, not so little. I’ve been writing this over the last few days, and this turned into something bigger than I was expecting.
Alright, here we go.
One of the great mysteries of this game: who the fuck wrote the whole Tale of the Seven Lords series? I mean, it foreshadows so much of the game’s plot twists that it’s absolutely insane! My initial thought was that Barbatos wrote it, especially since he’s the one who has a bunch of time travel/timeline powers that are, frankly, quite frightening. However, this theory leaves one gaping plot hole: how does Simeon know what’s gonna happen in the upcoming volume? Even Mammon and Satan take note of the fact that they have no idea why Simeon would know something like that. Who besides Barbatos could possibly have the power to see the future? Given this game’s penchant for foreshadowing, this is undoubtedly an important question we need to ask ourselves.
And I’d like to make you think about something as you answer that question.
While we know a fair bit about Barbatos’s power, we know practically nothing about the angels’ powers. Surely it doesn’t make sense that the demons have access to this wild reality-bending power that the angels don’t. Unless they actually do. How is this possible? Well, I turn to my knowledge of Christianity for this part of the theory.
According to many people’s interpretation of Judaism and Christianity, God is supposed to be an all-powerful, all-knowing, all-seeing entity. He knows anything and everything that has happened, is happening, and can/will happen in the future. Additionally, He can set everything up so that events happen according to His plan. Pretty difficult to go up against, right? Now, granted, we don’t know a lot about the game’s interpretation of God (yet); there are enough twists on Biblical canon that it is difficult to determine what direction this is going to go in. However, I do expect that God is supposed to be a ridiculously powerful character in-game; maybe as powerful as (or even more so than) Barbatos.
Side note: However, he is not all-powerful, and here’s how I know: he wasn’t able to just erase Lilith. Yes, I’m sure he was powerful enough to kill her, but not so powerful that he could just kill her immediately free of consequences.
But more on this later; now back to my original point. God is the author of TSL. Or, at the very least, is the divine inspiration behind it (where one of the angels or a specifically chosen human is the one to transcribe it). This explains why an angel such as Simeon would have knowledge of the upcoming plot. Another piece of evidence to back up my point: exposure to divinity. One point that pops up a few times in the Bible is the idea that anyone/anything who comes too close to God’s presence directly will perish. A couple of examples of this are the burning bush that Moses faces and the Ark of the Covenant which the Israelites are forbidden to touch. Now, you may be wondering what these examples have to do with Obey Me. The answer is simple: the TSL soundtrack. Remember why Lucifer was so interested in this soundtrack in the first place?
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First off, a scene where the Lord of Corruption places a curse on the heroes? I have a few thoughts on that, but I’ll get to that in a little bit. What I’d like to focus on is the mysterious composer and the people who die surrounding the soundtrack. Lucifer tells us on our final night in the Devildom that the record isn’t actually cursed:
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But. Well. I don’t trust that. He’s (probably) not purposefully lying to us, but I don’t think this can be a coincidence. I think that TSL was divinely inspired (along with its soundtrack) and for some reason, this particular soundtrack was too much for ordinary humans to handle (we know that MC isn’t ordinary because of their amount of hidden power that has been discussed; more on that later.) 
So I’d like to bring up something else. Propaganda.
God has already spread copious amounts of propaganda about the brothers. Why do I say this? Well, I’m going off the assumption that the human world MC comes from is pretty similar to the human world that all of you readers (and me, obviously) live in. Why does this matter? Religious texts. There’s no denying that Judaism/Christian and their respective texts have greatly influenced the course of world history. Which means, in canon, those same texts no doubt exist in the Human Realm. Now, assuming they were “divinely inspired” (another assumption, but one that seems to make sense to me), a plethora of lies were told. First of all, many of these texts paint Lucifer (the Morningstar) as: the original Fallen Angel, The Devil, the Prince of Hell, and the reason why Sin and Death entered the world (meaning he was the one who tempted Eve). In Obey Me canon, Lucifer was the leader of the rebellion, yes, but he is very different from how he would be painted in Biblical texts. First of all, the Devildom was around for a very long time before the Fall (leading to questions on the true power of the realms, but more on that later). Furthermore, Diavolo and the Demon King are more of what we consider to be “the Devil”; sketchy motives aside (which I’ve discussed in other posts), they are the ones that have the final say in the Devildom’s affairs. Not Lucifer. Yes, the brothers might hold the titles and responsibilities of being the “Seven Rulers of Hell,” but ultimately their will is overridden by Diavolo’s. Additionally, I’d like to talk about that last point: sin and death. In the Bible, Lucifer brought sin and death into the world by tempting Eve to eat the fruit from the forbidden tree. However, in Obey Me canon, we know this is not the case; death existed long before the Fall. We know this because Lilith’s human lover was going to die, hence why she fed him forbidden food from the Celestial Realm. Then, God was going to have her erased and ultimately sparked the Rebellion against Him.
So. We know that God is plenty willing to pin plenty of shit on Lucifer. But other than causing an abnormal amount of daddy issues, what does this have to do with anything? Well, remember how I noted earlier with the TSL soundtrack that it was supposed to be used in a scene where the Lord of Corruption placed a curse on the heroes? Well, the Lord of Corruption represents Lucifer. So, given the game’s penchant for foreshadowing, it seems like Lucifer is going to place a curse on the heroes (forgive me for making yet another assumption, but I interpret MC and the brothers as the heroes). Given Lucifer’s love for his family (and later MC), this doesn’t really make any sense. My initial thought was that the whole attic debacle was the curse, but that doesn’t really make sense either. But. Remember what I just said about God pinning shit on Lucifer. What if God is the one planning to put a curse on the heroes? Just think about that for a bit, let it sink in.
Now, why would God place a curse on the heroes? We know that He and the angels were able to defeat the brothers before, so they could do so again if the need ever arose, right? And why place a curse on MC, an ordinary human?
Well, not-so-ordinary human.
Remember why Asmo made a pact with MC in the first place? Solomon talks to us about how everyone has magical power within them, and it manifests itself in some, but not in others (this is already suspicious as fuck to me that a power as strong as MC’s wouldn’t manifest itself, but our in-game knowledge of magic is vague enough that I’m not really gonna dance around that right now). Anyways, MC gets stuck with Mammon, Beel, and Levi in the underground labyrinth again, and they summon Asmo and draw out even more power than Solomon can. Pretty strange, right? Belphegor also alludes to MC’s great power with his whole “you have the power to control demons” speech.
So basically we have this incredible power. And, if I’m on the right track here, then we’re a threat to God. As I explain here, Lilith is the reason we were chosen for the exchange program in the first place. Additionally, when you meet her as you’re dying and you reply to her and ask her what she’s doing, she says this:
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So… there’s a lot going on in her whole dialogue. Really. There’s so much to dissect. And frankly, I don’t think I can dissect it all. So for now, I’m going to focus on the snippets that stood out to me. “I’ve been waiting for so long, you see. I’ve been waiting for you to come find me.” Um, what? First of all, Lilith’s spirit has been around for several thousands of years, right? Granted, the Obey Me timeline isn’t super clear, but still. Even if Lilith has been waiting around for MC ever since their birth, MC is however old the player is (probably late teens or in their twenties since that’s the demographic the game is geared towards); but even if MC is supposed to be way older than that, their lifespan is a very short time compared to Lilith’s existence. Unless. Unless Lilith has been waiting for longer than MC is supposed to be alive. Unless Lilith knew that someone as powerful as MC would come into existence and… do whatever it is Lilith wants us to do. Still not completely sure about that. (Also take note that Lilith never tells us herself that MC is her descendant; make of that what you will).
Also, she says that she’s worried about all her brothers and tells us to “save them” and that she’ll “lend us her powers.” So at first, I thought she was worried about them emotionally, and that she wanted us to save them by serving as emotional support for them. But we didn’t need her for our consciousness to transfer, and Barbatos took care of our alternate self. So what did we need her power boost for? The answer: something that’s coming up in the future. What exactly? I’m not completely sure. But, I do know that Solomon has an idea of what it is, based on the text conversation with him right after leaving the Devildom.
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Now, is it possible Solomon knows because of his pact with Barbatos? Yes, it absolutely is. I know that I’ve said time and time again that Solomon’s pact with Barbatos is going to prove to be crucial in future chapters, and I still firmly believe that. However, if something is happening on the Celestial Realm side of things, Solomon has a connection there which would allow him to know the goings-on.
So for those of you who grew up in religious families, you probably remember a little bit about King Solomon; the “man after God’s own heart” (different translations may say something slightly different, but that’s the version most of us probably heard) who, when he had the chance to ask for one gift from God, chose to ask for wisdom. Now, many clues in-game point to show that there’s a good chance that this Solomon is supposed to be that very same guy. Such clues include his mystical powers and his many pacts, particularly his pact with Asmodeus. Now, remember when Solomon told us near the beginning of the game about the Ring of Wisdom he received? He never tells us about the mystery person who gave it to him, but I personally think he received it from God; since in Biblical canon God “gave him wisdom.” Additionally, remember how he talked about getting drunk off its power at first? That piece of information coincides with my earlier point about how exposure to divinity is difficult for humans to handle.
Also, remember that Solomon is a VERY big fan of TSL. (Enough to impress Levi, and enough that he has that super-rare pendant of the Lord of Corruption’s wing). So, given that God is probably the one behind the creation of this series, it stands to reason that his connection to God has something to do with this.
Additionally, while on the topic of Solomon, there is yet another chat (the one that he sends you on your birthday) that shows that he seems to be well aware of something that you, the player, are not:
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As I’ve said before, this game really loves its foreshadowing. So, we’re definitely gonna have to save Solomon at some point: now, I know I’ve called him shady many times before, and he really truly is. But.
Maybe he’s not nearly as evil as I originally thought. He has helped us before, but it’s admittedly difficult to pin down his motives. However, if saving him is going to be necessary to the plot, then Solmare probably isn’t gonna make us rescue a bad guy. Emphasis on probably.
Also… he says “first birthday here in the Devildom”... which leads me to believe that MC will have many, many birthdays with the brothers to come in the future. So. Now that I’ve talked about Solomon, I’d like to talk about Luke.
He sends you a chat that opens up some pretty good insight into the whole situation:
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Now, we know that Luke is pretty fond of MC, and we’re led to believe that Simeon cares about MC too; however, this whole “charm that attracts both demons and angels alike” doesn’t sit quite right with me. Now, yes, both the in-game angels care about MC, but that doesn’t seem to quite cover Luke’s statement. But what if… There are other angels that have taken an interest in MC? And I don’t mean romantically, I mean… what if one or more of them know about our power? As I said before, Lilith gave us a power boost for something that’s coming up in the future. Something big. And if MC truly has a special sort of charm that attracts demons and angels alike, they could prove to be very dangerous if, say, there were to be another power struggle between realms. But what does this all have to do with Luke anyways? Remember who Luke works for? Michael. Yes, that’s right, the Archangel Michael. Probably the most powerful angel in all of the Celestial Realm. What does this have to do with anything? Well, after the exchange program ends, the higher-ranked angels (including Michael) are no doubt going to want reports of everything that happened during the exchange program… including information about MC. And really, who better to ask that information from than someone as utterly devoted to Michael himself as we’ve seen Luke is?
And if this is the case… Michael will probably hand all of that information right over to God. Given how the Obey Me God seems to be, this is not good news for MC or the brothers.
Now. Just because we can’t trust God doesn’t mean we should go blindly trusting Diavolo and Barbatos either. In fact, @phairfantooooom does a phenomenal job here explaining just how sketchy and terrifying they really are. Maybe I’ll have more of my own comments to add later if the mood strikes me, but for now I’m gonna leave it at that.
One final word: MC is being used as a pawn in a grander game between the realms for which they have no idea how to play, but they better figure it out fast.
Or maybe, just maybe, I’m losing my mind during quarantine and I really just want the sexy, shady sorcerer to not be a bad guy.
We’ll see. So... what do you all make of this? I’d love to hear your thoughts.
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