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#[ I'LL BE BACK with replies! ]
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 10 months
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Get Souped!
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artofalassa · 5 months
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The Wings
They're finally together, huh? Time to celebrate. The last spicier piece under the cut.....
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Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR | Part FIVE | Part SIX | Part EIGHT
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ryllen · 4 months
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live up ur sillies
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sleepsucks · 13 days
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arcanegifs · 11 months
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Upscaled + Edited Arcane Screenshots 1/?
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Ode To The Slutty Black Button Up 
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topaziraphale · 7 months
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"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,
The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"
Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.
What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.
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notachair · 1 month
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Since atla is again having an extra surge of popularity, I'm shooting my shot:
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[ID: (Rest of image description in alt). At the bottom of the image sits the text: "Zuko: Okay. Well, I can't remember how it starts, but the punchline is "leaf me alone, I'm bushed."" ID end].
Did we ever find out what the setup for this joke was? I feel kinda haunted by it. If not- anyone wanna make their best or worst guesses?
edit: I now know what "I'm bushed" mean, but go ahead anyway 👍
haunted thoughts in tags ↓
#atla#the way I was early out for this next surge in popularity 🤗 I was in a different phase by 2020#it's not like it haunts me day and night but it does bother me thinking back on it. please tell me I'm not the only one 🧍‍♂️#I'll have to reblog the 'closure is a myth' post jk#what kind... of joke is it? leaf pun on leave i get. I'm bushed however I dont get. it implies the punchline sayer is a bush at least I#think. but what prompts the 'i am bushed' I dont get. is it not contextual? is it a phrase ive not connected like 'leaf me alone'?#is there anotger layer between leaf and bush? again what kind of joke (social:joke purpose. what is funny? only pun?) + (in-joke set up)?#is it about the kind of bush it is? is it between two plants? the plant & someone picking on the plant like a teamaker collecting?#is it about a plant that has grown into bush and thus (somethingsomething)?? is it not a plant at all? other elements? iroh *what*.#if the creators actually had a setup in mind- I fear it will be lame. but yet I am haunted#it must have cracked someone up for him to try relay it. (set in term of endearment here) 🧍‍♂️👈 *poking him*#either way. me 🤝 zuko @ being bad at remembering & relaying jokes 😁👍#at least in that instance anyway#I mainly stick to irony & sarcasm. running along with an mistaken assumption or replying w something silly & blowing it out of proportions.#puns if I'm lucky. ect. fun when I can reference it later tho I try not to overdo it. not like I'll likely remember it for too long anyway#now to lay in wajt see if anything happens....#avatar the last airbender#zuko#atla zuko#a:tla#my rambles#its lie and not lay is it not.....
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TD World Tour AU, where Noah doesn't tell Owen that Alejandro is an eel in London... In Area 51, Noah is accidentally splashed with an alien truth potion (which wears off after a few days) and he talks to Owen... Owen asks Noah what he truly thinks about Alejandro, and Truth-Potion Affected Noah says this: "I have mixed feelings for Alejandro. He's a brilliant, interesting guy and I like him, but I don't trust him. He's like a slippery eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. Basically, Heather with social skills. Wait a minute, why am I telling you this?!"... What if Alejandro secretly heard Noah call him all those conflicting things + Alejandro also learns that Noah is affected with an alien truth potion? 👽
Alright, you got me. I'm an absolute sucker for truth potion plots, especially when the character(s) effected by them are usually either pathological liars or incredibly secretive- of which Noah absolutely falls into the second category, given he shares so little personal information.
I'll gloss over why Noah declined to shit-talk Alejandro in London (though there's so many ways this change in behaviour could be justified) since the focal point of this hypothetical centred around their time in Nevada, so let's start from the beginning of the Area 51 challenge.
Area 51:
Before we start, it'll have to be established that no one was eliminated in London. Let's say that the majority vote went towards Duncan (team CIRRRRH voted him out immediately because they found his re-admission to the competition unfair, I guess. I imagine he'd also vote himself, if not as a plan to escape the competition he'd been actively skiving from, then just as an act of spite) but Chris instead claimed it was a rewards challenge- much like he does in Greece- because he doesn't want to let Duncan slip away again so soon.
I see no reason to alter the first part of the challenge- the sneaking into Area 51 portion- since team CIRRRRH's course of entry is fairly straightforward. Noah's presence doesn't make much of a difference to how it would play out; the majority of them throw their rocks and run, Owen gets lasered over the fence and Owen-napped, ect ect.
When both teams have managed to make their way into the Black Box Warehouse, Noah immediately suggests they should prioritise rescuing Owen. Tyler's quick to agree, since he's a firm believer in the "no man left behind" mentality (and he probably makes a not-so-subtle jab towards Noah for his chance of tune compared to London, where both he and Owen did leave Tyler behind) leaving Duncan and Alejandro to split from the group- Duncan in search of Gwen, and Alejandro just takes the opportunity to finally be free from his 'incompetent teammates' and prioritises finding an artifact.
Noah and Tyler come across the contraption Owen's trapped in, Tyler punches it in a futile effort to break it open, and the face hugger cube drops into Noah's hands. This is where the point of divergence comes into play; Tyler has his E.T. moment with one of the face huggers, but Noah- who's a tad bit more observant than Alejandro, and used to dodging surprise attacks from his various older siblings (and Izzy)- anticipates his own face hugger attack and promptly starts a game of cat-and-mouse with a taser alien hot on his heels.
The commotion of which attracts the rest of his team. Alejandro and Duncan arrive on the scene to see Tyler being electrocuted by an alien and Noah running in circles evading another.
Duncan attempts to rip the face hugger from Tyler's face, finding success at the cost of sending Tyler trampling into Owen's captive contraption (essentially taking Alejandro's canonical place in this scene) and inadvertently freeing Owen.
Meanwhile, Alejandro swipes up the nearest box he can find and snags the alien chasing Noah, who's still very loudly panicking as he flees, and succeeds! The alien is swiftly captured into the box, netting team CIRRRRH their artifact, and Noah promptly goes careening into the nearest tower of junk in his face hugger-fuelled hysteria. This causes another box to topple from the peak of the tower, landing directly on Noah's head and spilling its contents onto the bookworm- glass vials filled with a mysterious, luminescent cobalt blue liquid shatter into pieces drenching Noah in whatever they contained. (i.e. truth potion.)
Owen has his false-amnesia moment, characterised by his Joker makeover, and Alejandro enacts his revenge post-hypnotic suggestion after being addressed as "Al" one too many times.
Noah, understandably, swiftly objects to Owen's treatment and demands that Alejandro snap him out of it. Alejandro concedes, and Owen's brought back to himself. At least, for a moment, before the fatigue of having his mind messed with sends Owen into near-catatonia (the same as canon), meaning he has to be ferried through the Warehouse and back to the Jet by Alejandro and Duncan.
Things carry on canonically from there; Noah's just sort of there for the most part, though there'd be a minor hint to his newfound proclivity for honesty. Something along the lines of him giving an uncharacteristically honest answer to Owen as to who he's voting- Tyler, of course, since he was the one who ultimately threw the challenge for them... and also because Tyler still holds some resentment towards Noah for what happened in London, and Noah feels guilty about it every time he looks at the jock. Wait, why did he say that?
Sometime between this and the elimination scene, Noah wipes the truth-goop off of himself, but not before the effects have already started.
Tyler's voted out, yada yada yada.
The Jet:
Thus begins the start of "Picnic at Hanging Dork". Team CIRRRRH, consisting of just Alejandro, Duncan, Owen and Noah, are slumming it up in the Economy Cabin. Alejandro tries to rally his team by asking how to break apart Courtney and Heather's tentative co-operation. Owen suggests having Alejandro seduce Heather, since it worked for both Bridgette and Leshawna. Duncan makes his "Babe Olympics" comment. Noah pipes up that playing with someone's feelings is pretty scummy, even for someone competing for a million dollars.
Alejandro takes Noah's reluctance towards his methodology poorly; he hadn't spoken up before, when Alejandro had utilized the same strategy against other girls- and even Owen noticed that, so surely Noah did too- so why was he to outwardly against him using the same tricks? Duncan agrees, and offers ''his'' idea of having Alejandro flirt with Courtney to throw both her and Heather off their games (since Heather has an obvious crush on Alejandro), and things follow canon.
Then, the scene between Alejandro and Courtney happens. Noah scoffs at the display from the side lines, prompting Owen to ask him why he's so against Alejandro's plan.
"I mean, you never said anything before, when he flirted with Bridgette and Leshawna." Owen comments, light-hearted in nature but with an underlying questioning tone.
Noah's eyes flicker with a cobalt glow, easily mistaken for a trick of the light, and he speaks without even thinking.
"Yeah, because I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Bridgette was happenstance, and Leshawna's whole deal could've been a coincidence, or some massive misunderstanding. But this?" Noah extends an accusing hand out towards a smug looking Alejandro, then pans it over to a flattered Courtney, "He's outright toying with Courtney's feelings after she was cheated on in front of an international audience. It's scummy."
Owen nods in understanding, momentary contemplation evident in the pouted curve of his lips, and he chimes in.
"Does that mean you don't like Al?"
"I never said that."
"Well, how do you feel about him, then?"
Again, a flash of blue light against the hickory backdrop of Noah's eyes, and he responds thoughtlessly.
"I guess I have mixed feelings about him. On the one hand, he's slippery, like an eel dipped in grease, swimming in motor oil. He's like if you took all of the worst aspects of Heather, wrapped them up in a pretty package, and gave them social skills..." He holds his hands out before him in a scale-like manner, with the left tipped downwards and tie right raised by his chin. Then, the two hands swap positions.
"And on the other hand, he's brilliant. I've never met anyone as talented as Alejandro; he's smart, he's athletic, he's funny. It's almost unfair just how perfect everything about him is- even his face is perfect. It's ridiculous! Infuriating, even. It's so hard to dislike him, even when I know he's bad news, but that doesn't mean I trust him."
Owen stands slack jawed beside his best friend, both impressed and stunned at the raw honesty of Noah's tirade. Noah, now a little more aware of himself, realises that he's said more than he intended to- more than he thinks he's ever spoken in one go throughout the entirety of Total Drama. He's not usually one for speeches, after all, let alone honest ones.
He's always been the type to play his cards close to his chest, so why...?
"I, uh, didn't mean to go off like that."
And he also didn't mean to admit it, either. What was going on?
The look Owen gives him is, in a word, vivid. The blonde has a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, a sort of elated smugness practically glowing from his features.
"Sounds like someone has a cruuuush!~"
What? No? No! Not at all, where would Owen even get that idea?!
Noah splutters to correct Owen's assumption (to disastrous results, because he does sort-of has a crush on Alejandro, so the truth potion doesn't allow him to outright deny it), and in his preoccupied state he misses how a calculating pair of sage green eyes never seems to stray from him.
Alejandro has a lot to think about in regards to a certain cynic, it seems.
#I'd like to apologise for taking this idea and running with it.#Cutting myself off here before I breach 2k+ words or else I'll be here all day.#Sort of entered actual Writing Mode at the end there instead of Outline Mode but this idea is. So Full Of Potential I couldn't help myself.#But from here it'd basically be Alejandro using his newfound knowledge of Noah's crush on him to his advantage.#Whilst Noah's doing his best (and failing) to deny that he has any feelings for Alejandro.#Eventually leading to the two of them having a Bonding Moment where Alejandro gets Noah to divulge some personal information.#And in turn- or an effort to garner some trust (to be abused later)- Alejandro also lets himself be vulnerable towards Noah.#Something something Alejandro tries to use Noah as a pawn but ends up catching feelings of his own.#Then of course the potion wears off and Noah goes back to being just as prickly and standoffish as he was before.#A point of conflict maybe? Imagine bearing your soul out to someone only for them to close themself off to you not even days afterwards.#...Also imagine being practically forced to divulge information about yourself to someone you don't trust because of a truth potion.#Oh yeah. That's some good angst material right there.#Especially is you have Alejandro be- if not fully aware- than at least suspect that Noah's not being agreeable on his own terms.#Anon why have you given me The Thoughts?? I can't keep brainstorming AUs when I already have fics to work on!!#ophe's ranting in the tags again#total drama#td noah#td alejandro#team chris is really really really really hot#alenoah#-ish#silly ideas#other's ideas#long post#replies#kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)
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wreckedhoney · 1 month
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MASSIVE SPOILER for one of the endings.
it's been a while since i tried looking, but i did hear that something like this happens last year and over time started to think, "was it a fluke?" bc no one posted footage or caps of it then, and i aimed for a completionist run in my first playthrough. turns out it's real! and definitely shines a new light on a character that, for most other types of playthroughs, will not give this much emotion! EDIT: transcript now included, and some stillshots under the cut
[0:28] Marie: Henry, this is the man who kept you from doing the right thing tonight. Kill him. [0:15] Forrest: Henry, you don’t have to do this. If you’ve not killed anyone yet, there’s still time to make the right decision. [0:05] Out of shot: (Gunshots) Henderson Police! Freeze! Marie: No! Henry, get out of there!
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#killer frequency#henry barrow#these hands………#so yes MORE spoilers and further commentary ahead here in the tags:#yes this is a fairly tragic ending if you already know how to get it. but again TERRIFIC VOICE ACTING BEFOREHAND AND AFTER.#feel free to reply in post if you want to ask about that part.#i didn't include that in the vid bc it's so visceral and raw but i love their performances. that shit hit hard dang.#but i want to ask anyone if their perspective on henry changes after seeing this? mine does tbh. i didn't expect a possible show of remorse#like at most hesitation! but bc of the context of forrest's dialogue- does it lean into remorse? a large definite shift in his mind!#even if he Has killed already then he's still taking forrest's words to heart and reconsidering everything which DAMN-#-my videogamey headcanon of forrest's character stats showing his Persuasion and Charm MAXED OUT is pulling tf through here!!#also can anyone reply re: would forrest's dialogue change but he still survives if henry kills maurice or murphy? or would forrest die?#and if the devs Actually gave henry other official kills in the game but didn't disclose them in the narrative- then is this the test?#like if henry kills AT ALL in game even though the player isn't privy to knowing which victims are his then is this ending unattainable?#also placing this scene/character moment behind THIS ENDING SPECIFICALLY heck that's cold. dang fellas.#going to eventually pull out a hc i've been holding back for a long time in a later post and i'll mention this scene again then-#-but this part in particular as well as another “easter egg” has really put more fuel to it
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mattodore · 3 months
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you’re the only good thing in my life.
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if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them
Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3
Afterhours
Ship: Claire Debella x Reader
Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.
Word Count: 5.8k
Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni
Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace
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It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.
If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.
After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.
Or, that's what you think anyhow.
You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.
Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.
Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.
After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.
“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”
You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.
“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”
Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.
“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”
You shrug.
“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”
(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)
Her frown deepens.
“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”
“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”
The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.
There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.
“No.” She says, after a beat too long.
There's another, much longer silence.
You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.
“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”
Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.
You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.
“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”
This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.
“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”
Again, there's silence, and then…
“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”
You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.
“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”
The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.
“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”
It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.
“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”
“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”
She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.
“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.
You can feel your face flush.
“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”
“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.
“I have pepper spray.”
“No. You're not walking home anymore.”
Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.
Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.
You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.
You sigh.
“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”
“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”
You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.
You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.
Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.
You push down your anxiety.
Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.
Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.
“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.
Ah, right.
Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.
You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.
For a minivan, it's pretty nice.
When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.
You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.
Instead you ask, “how are they?”
“My kids?”
She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.
“Yeah.”
You click yours in as she replies.
“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”
She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.
Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.
“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”
Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.
“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”
“I'm sorry.” You murmur.
Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.
“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”
You choke back an unamused laugh.
“You would hope.”
Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.
“What makes you say that?”
Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.
“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.
Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.
“How old are you again?”
“Twenty-three.”
Claire hums.
“And how much are we paying you again?”
You rattle off the salary.
Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.
When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”
You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.
“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.
At your confused look she huffs.
“For your extended night hours.”
Oh!
“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”
Claire nods.
“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”
The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.
“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”
“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.
—»•«—
You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.
You sign, and initial, and date.
And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.
“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.
The man frowns at you.
“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.
You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.
Claire's personal intern.
$47,000
That was $15k more than what you had been making.
What the fuck.
You sign the papers, and don't say a word.
Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.
Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.
You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.
“Come in.”
She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.
“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.
“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.
You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.
In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.
Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.
You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.
You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.
“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.
“What is?” You ask.
Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.
“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”
You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.
You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”
Claire hums.
She does that a lot, you realize.
“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”
She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.
“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.
Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.
“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”
You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.
“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.
Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.
“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”
“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”
Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.
“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”
You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.
“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”
“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.
You shrug.
“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”
The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.
“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.
At the end of the night, she drives you home again.
It becomes a routine.
For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.
And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.
You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.
She doesn't mean it personally.
You know that.
But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.
You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.
“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.
“You've been stressed.” You excuse.
Claire shakes her head.
“There are better ways of releasing steam.”
“Well what do you usually do?”
You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.
“Get high. Or have sex.”
Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.
“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.
“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”
You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.
Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.
HR is going to have a field day with you.
You're going to be fired.
You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.
You hadn't heard her move.
“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.
“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.
Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.
“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”
Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.
Your boss chuckles.
“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”
You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.
“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”
Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.
“Say yes.”
Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.
“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”
Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.
“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”
“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.
When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.
“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”
Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.
“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”
You trail off, embarrassed.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.
Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.
You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.
You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.
“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”
Claire chuckles deeply.
“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.
Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.
A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.
You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.
You want her to ruin you.
“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.
She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.
One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.
The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.
They're so fucking soft.
Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.
You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.
Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.
When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.
“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”
Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.
You whimper, and bite your lip.
Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.
“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”
You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.
“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”
It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.
Your pussy throbs.
You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.
“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”
At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.
“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”
Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.
“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”
She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.
As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.
Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.
Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.
She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.
“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”
Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.
“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”
You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.
You give her a taste test.
The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.
It isn't bad.
It's just… New.
You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.
“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”
Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.
When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.
She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.
“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.
You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.
“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.
Claire tsks.
“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”
Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.
Her grip tightens.
“I said moan for me, bitch.”
It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.
“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”
The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.
“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.
You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.
You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.
You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.
She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.
“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”
Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.
You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.
Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.
“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.
You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.
“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”
You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.
Claire sighs.
“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”
You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.
You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.
“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”
You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.
Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.
“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.
You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.
“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”
You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.
“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”
The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.
You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.
“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”
Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.
She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.
“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”
You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.
You've never noticed it before.
You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.
It's her.
Your head spins.
And you're so wet.
Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.
You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.
“Mommy, please!” You cry.
Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.
When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.
“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”
Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.
“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.
When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.
It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–
“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”
Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.
You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.
Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.
And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.
“No, please.” You gasp.
Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.
“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”
You whimper.
“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”
“Hm…” Claire hums.
“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”
You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.
“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.
For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.
You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.
“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.
“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”
You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.
“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.
She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.
The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.
Somehow, it's more appealing.
The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.
“Mommy.” You whisper.
Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.
“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”
A whimper catches in the back of your throat.
Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.
Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.
You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.
“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.
Your head is still spinning.
She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.
“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.
She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.
“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”
“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”
Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.
“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.
She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.
You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.
Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?
“Baby.” Claire warns.
“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.
“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”
“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”
Claire turns around, shaking her head.
“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”
Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.
Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.
By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.
You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.
“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”
You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.
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shiningliive · 24 days
Text
IMPORTANT POLL
Utapri Live Emotion Coverage
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If I continue to cover Live Emotion, I want to know where you would prefer to see it. No guarantees I'll follow the responses since I'm still considering it myself. For now, I have a Live Emotion blog (@live-emotion) where I've been reblogging from here. But this won't work in the long run.
If I cover it here @shiningliive: It might bring more awareness to the game since I still have followers from Shining Live days, and people wouldnt have to migrate to a new blog. It may feel nice to continue to utapri mobile game legacy in the same spot. But also, Live Emotion coverage here would bury Shining Live content, and make it harder to find in the long run. Id also have to figure out new tagging system to differentiate content between the two games. The blog name would also be inconsistent/confusing.
If I cover it @live-emotion: It would be a fresh start, and make finding content for each game more convenient. It would also allow ShiningLiive to remain a clean archive of Shining Live content, and people uninterested in Live Emotion wouldnt have to unfollow. However, it might be a bit sad to leave Shiningliive behind, and people may miss the content.
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crimeronan · 4 months
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do hunter and luz Want to be less codependent tho
princess AU luz DESPERATELY wants to be less codependent. not because she wants to be rid of hunter at all, but because she feels like she's taking and taking and taking from him and she doesn't know how to stop.
she's not evil or tyrannical or abusing him the way she's scared she might be. but she Is right that he's under an enormous amount of strain in being the only person she reaches toward for comfort/support/secret-keeping.
hunter doesn't want to stop orienting his entire sense of self around luz -- partly because she genuinely makes him happy and partly because he's terrified of wanting anything except this. remember in hollow mind when he tries Everything to justify his loyalty to belos bc he's so scared of what the truth might mean.... it's very easy for him to invest a similar amount of fatalistic loyalty into luz. harder to break the pattern, too, given that luz actually IS genuine and earnest and loves him more than anything.
However. hunter Does want luz to feel better. and he's scared because everything he's doing just seems to be a band-aid over a gaping wound at best. at worst, he's afraid that he's making her worse. if being separated from luz is necessary for her to heal, he'd allow it. but he'd find it painful and horrible and his decision would be entirely focused around luz rather than himself.... so it's arguably just more of the same problem he already has.
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cinnamonest · 1 year
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Plsss!! You gotta do some more Modern Au albedo/Xiao/Kazuha ur literally the best at it 😭😭❤️❤️
I loved those posts, these atrocious boys with their (involuntary) gfs.
For this post I included some more general stuff (and I'm repeating/expanding upon previously mentioned things), but after rereading part of the camgirl post where it mentions promising to be a good bf,  it got me thinking so I wanted to focus on the concept of each boy trying to be a "Good Boyfriend".
I'm also going off of the dynamics/darlings in these posts and mention some past ideas from them, but I made it so that you could either read it as those darlings or just a default darling, so you don't need to read the other posts, but I'll still link them:
(Xiao)
(Albedo)
(Kazuha)
Also preemptively yes they all have the same general reasoning for keeping you locked up, the boys think alike I stand by this
//also heavily gendered, some mildly sexist stuff bc modern AU incel culture (you know I'm right when I say Xiao probably pays for 4chan Pass and kazuha would be a white knight bless him), brief discussion of theoretical homicide
-------
When you first woke up here, Xiao promised to be a good boyfriend, and he tries his best to make good on that promise.
What do good boyfriends do? Well, he's been on the internet long enough and seen enough media to have some general idea. Good boyfriends buy gifts. Good boyfriends make food for their girlfriend. Good boyfriends make their girlfriends cum.
He gets you plenty of gifts. As soon as he brought you home, in fact, he bought a ton of various costumes and lingerie sets off the internet. He's spent a ton of money on it all, which you're supposed to, in turn, recognize the contributions he's put in for your sake and be happy.
He doesn't make food (he doesn't know how), but he always asks you what food you want delivered and always goes with what you want, so, same idea. A lot of girls on social media (he has gone out of his way to browse and gather observational evidence) seem to be fixated on the idea of breakfast in bed, so, he takes it upon himself to get some of those frozen sugary carbohydrate-packed breakfast packages you pop in the microwave from the store, and has them ready as you're waking up one day. He doesn't have a tray or plates, though, so he just has to take apart the cardboard box they came in and use that as a substitute, but it works.
And you do get to cum. He stakes a great deal of his own pride on that... so he makes sure it's lots and lots of times per day. Even if you protest at first, even if you say you can't anymore. It's still a good thing, so, even if you're not wanting it in the moment, he's supposed to do that anyway, that makes sense. He should be recognized for his efforts, really, because he refuses to use any aid of anything that isn't attached to his own body, only fingers and tongue and cock and never anything that isn't attached to his own body.
Granted, there are other pieces of advice commonly suggested as components of being a "good" boyfriend, like... letting you be independent, listening to your side of arguments and not interrupting.
But his favorite frequented forums have very specifically made it clear that this is beta male behavior. So, no way is he going to engage in such a thing. If you want to be listened to, don't say dumb things. Simple. He would listen to you and not interrupt you if you weren't being dumb and wrong and bringing up things he specifically told you not to. Why do you do that? You're supposed to not do things when he says not to.
It's sort of a cognitive dissonance, but he tends to take things he's read online on completely opposite ends of the spectrum and use both as guidelines. Yes, he's supposed to do all this stuff for you, and buy you things and be nice to you and compliment you (he manages to do so, albeit stutters and can't look you in the eye to do so), and all that. But at the same time, he has had enough of... unpleasant content funneled into his brain from years of being chronically online, to the extent that he also engages in complete opposite behavior too.
You've gotten into quite a few arguments over time pertaining to why you can't be allowed to go out. You even have the audacity to want to go out by yourself, claiming that since he is so averse to going outside, he might as well just stay in while you go for a walk and question why you can't do so, if you have something tracking you.
Well, for starters, even if he could trust you not to go to law enforcement, you would probably cheat with some random stranger. Not that you can be blamed for that, it's like animal instinct in some people, but unfortunately you are just especially impulsive. Of course, you argue against this and say that's preposterous, but this is because likewise, you are naturally inclined to lie. And when you get increasingly frustrated at these statements, that is due to you being overly-emotional and far too sensitive. Typical. But you see, that is why he has to do the best thing for you, even if you're upset about it, and keep you inside.
In fact, a significant portion of being a good boyfriend means sometimes doing things that make you upset, because it's what's best for you. This can be difficult, as it invokes overreactions from you and you get very mad and mean.
It's quite unfair, really, that being a good boyfriend requires so much effort. Being a good girlfriend is so easy. Being nice and sweet and never ever disagreeing with anything he says and never being mean and having sex at any moment takes so little effort. But he does it out of love, which makes the burden worthwhile.
You clearly do a lot of things voluntarily, though. He never told you you have to clean, but you nonetheless do on your own volition. One day (a good behavior day, being allowed to roam the whole apartment) you stomped into the kitchen and returned with a trash bag, and began shoveling all the empty bottles and takeout boxes and plastic forks and disposable chopsticks and crumbled papers and old receipts and empty packages and amazon envelopes and... well, you get the idea. All the accumulated stuff, and you got it all into a few trash bags. Of course, he had to hover over you the whole time, making sure you didn't dispose of anything important--
Don't throw that away. I need it.
It's literally broken in half.
I can still use it.
--And that you don't waste anything--
Don't. There's over half the bag left.
They were on the floor and already opened. The expiry date is from last year.
They're still good. I'll eat them.
No you will NOT.
--But eventually, you get it all cleaned up. It feels like having a new room... you can see the floor now.
He likes the domestic vibe of having you cleaning and all, but it also gets a bit irritating when you start nagging about it. But still, he tolerates that, because that's what he's supposed to do, it's part of good relationships and stuff. He also tolerates a surprising amount of things, increasingly so over time, provided you frame it as concern.
You've forced him into a somewhat consistent sleep schedule, albeit not a healthy one, but still, you made him agree to a standard of not staying up longer than 24 hours at a time. As well as a couple other standards that you insisted were out of concern, and, well, when you put it like that, you're trying to be good for him and showing concern for his well-being which is very nice, so if he tries his best to abide by your wishes, then that should make you pleased. Showering at least every other day, limiting the caffeine consumption (in truth, he often just drinks it while you're asleep, but you don't know that so it doesn't count), and not eating perishable food if he can't remember how long it's been sitting out.
It's not pleasant, and it's frustrating to have to abide by such arbitrary regulations, but you're trying your best to be good and do your part and care for him. If he didn't show some appreciation for that, you would be more likely to not put in any effort to be good in other matters. So, it's best to comply. Besides, it's kind of nice when you tell him that this or that isn't good for his health or organs or whatever, it sounds like you really do care, which is a pleasant thought. It also puts more pressure on him to continue to be good so that you continue to be good, he views it like some sort of back-and-forth exchange, a calculated effort.
And with that, there's one other thing, though, that's bothering him. One facet that he keeps ignoring, despite knowing it's standard for "good boyfriend" criteria.
Good boyfriends plan out and pay for dates.
Which he has neglected, for obvious reasons. But no one is perfect, right? You're mean sometimes, so you're not exactly being the ideal girlfriend either. And he's done a pretty good job with everything else.
But you bring it up. You keep begging to go outside, say you won't try anything, that it doesn't matter if it's just for a few minutes, that you're going to go insane if you have to stay in here much longer. While this is obviously exaggeration due to hysteria, seeing as he never leaves and he's perfectly fine, it does stay in the back of his mind that appeasing this desire of yours might earn favor from you and make you happy, which in turn has benefits on his end. Eventually, the more you ask, the closer you get to him giving in, until one day he finally does, much to your surprise.
Fine. There's a cafe type of place at the bottom of the apartment complex. You can go there together, for a short time. Not very long. And... you have to wait a few days, because you have no clothes that aren't far too obscene to wear in public, so, he'll have to order something off the internet for you. But no talking to anyone the whole time, and if you try anything you'll go back immediately, and so on and so on, all these regulations he keeps repeating over and over.
You're too ecstatic to really listen. You didn't actually think you'd get this far... and in truth, you know better than to try anything to escape or something like that, you're just genuinely happy to get out. You practically go bounding down the hallway when that day comes. It almost doesn't even feel real, you've been away from public so long that it almost feels foreign... but here you are.
It's one of those versatile places, with coffees and teas and fruit drinks and cream sodas and pretty much anything you could think of. He tells you to get whatever you want (this will in turn lead to increased happiness, whereas denying you anything could potentially upset you and thereby ruin the purpose of the venture), so you intend get something you really like in the largest size possible. He trails right behind you the whole time.
You can be the one to talk to the cashier. I'll allow it.
Aren't you just saying that because you don't want to?
Just do it.
He doesn't really like tea or coffee or anything of the sort, so, he grabs one of those little box containers of sweetened milk with the bendy straws they have for kids. And scowls when you cover your mouth and chortle at it.
You can tell he's extremely uncomfortable. You can imagine a shut-in would be. There's bright daylight all around, there's people all around. He still doesn't sit down, instead following you over to the counter where they have all the extra packets of cream and sugar and straws and napkins and stuff, clinging to your sleeve. It feels less like a date and more like having a shy kid following their big sibling around, even as you go to sit down.
He stays jittery, uneasy. Shifting around awkwardly, looking all around. You quietly wait for the complaints and grumbling to begin, knowing full well this was just to placate you.
But those complaints don't come. He just sits there quietly. Lets you talk. Doesn't say much himself, he's far too uneasy and nervous and overwhelmed by the noise and crowdedness for that, but doesn't complain about any of it. Doesn't start pushing you to go back within a few minutes, which you were expecting and prepared yourself for. Just quietly shifts around and looks around, responding to you with one-word answers and nods.
You don't talk about anything in particular, the sort of empty conversation (if it can be called that, with you doing the entirety of the talking) that you will forget within a few hours. You almost expect something to go wrong, even, as if someone you knew from before will show up and recognize you, or something will happen to cause a scene, but nothing does. And likewise, you find yourself pleasantly surprised by the lack of grouchy commentary you had anticipated.
It's because... you look really happy. You really brighten up and seem so much more energetic than you normally do. In truth, it does hurt a bit that you seem so much happier right now than you do the rest of the time, but normal people are like that, he thinks, they need to go out and do stuff like this to be content. So, maybe if you do this regularly enough, you'll even be happier when you are back at home, in the comforting familiar dark environment.
Maybe he doesn't even need the transactional benefits he initially had hoped for... the thought of you being happier because of something he did is enough to be satisfied. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy that you're smiling and chattering away and sound so happy.
...But, uh, you've been here an hour now. Being around so many people is draining him like a dying battery. He still doesn't say anything, but you can see the fidgeting. You would like to stay longer, but... you're in a good mood now, and that makes you less argumentative and bitter and stubborn than you usually would be. Not to mention, this whole thing has admittedly greatly diminished your resentment, so you do have more empathy for him that you usually would, so you take it upon yourself to say well, I guess we should be getting back... You've never seen a person move so fast to get out the door of a public place.
And it works. You are happier, even when you return. You don't even go over to the other side of the room and lay down, instead choosing to come over to the desk and sit on his lap (!!!), facing towards him and resting your head on his shoulder (!!!!!), wrapping your arms around his body (!!!!!!!!), and all that. You sit quietly for a while. You're nervous to ask, almost don't want to out of fear of a negative answer, but finally manage to force yourself to ask if you can ever do this again sometime.
But he sighs, grumbles, but still says fine. Just not more than like, once a month or so. Maybe twice. But he can't handle more than that. It would probably kill him from the spike in heart rate and blood pressure. No that's not being dramatic and it's not an exaggeration, people do die that way you know. It could happen. You're laughing. He could literally, realistically die, and you're laughing. Ugh.
-------
Kazuha really cares about being a model boyfriend.
He already tries to be and considers himself a really good guy, which is already an advantageous trait, he thinks. Most guys are really awful, but not him! He's one of the good ones. He would never ever be mean to a girl, doesn't engage in tasteless jokes, doesn't talk badly about any girl. Girls are great. They're strong and smart and smell nice and are all so pretty and have nice thighs and chests that are nice to look at (in a respectful way and not an objectifying way!) so of course he's very very kind to all.
He's nice and not sexist because he's just a good person like that and not at all out of desire for brownie points and favor from you. And for that matter, he has ALWAYS stood up for random girls online as any good person would do. Being called a simp is just a way to know you're doing the right thing.
This all puts him far above the average guy (the average man is horrible for a ton of reasons that don't apply to him because he is Not Like The Other Guys and thereby better, which is something he can be proud of). He is very adamant to remind you of all of this.
Even now that you don't really have any other options anyway, trapped in his living space. Still, it can't hurt to ensure you know that he cares so much and is fully dedicated and loyal because that could earn some favor from you. After all, there's a chance you could get the wrong idea about all of this, and think of him as some sort of selfish, deranged pervert -- and he can totally understand how you could misinterpret it that way! Really, yes, it's understandable that you might come to that conclusion at first, but that actually is not the case at all and he wouldn't want that misunderstanding to occur. He's actually very selfless and has only your best interest in mind.
Which is why he has to be really good to you. Not that he wouldn't anyway, but he's just focusing on that to ensure you don't accidentally think badly of him, or think that taking you away and keeping you here is an act of selfishness on his part (because it's actually the opposite).
So he has to try very hard to be the ideal boyfriend. He, too, bases this concept on what he has read and otherwise seen presented as such over the years.
Firstly, making time for you, and ensuring you're his priority. His routine varies due to having a class schedule. You've learned the pattern that on Mondays and Wednesdays and Fridays he leaves a lot earlier than he does on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and he has short breaks throughout the day in between classes, unlike with someone who works a straight 9-5 or the like. So, he comes back a few times a day, rather than just being gone all day and returning in the evening.
Even if the gap between the class he just got out of and the next class is over half an hour, he'll come back to see you, since he lives right next to the campus. You'll be going about your day doing whatever you're allowed, hear the door creak open, and he comes rushing down the stairs. Even if it's just for five minutes, he'll still come back to you, talk to you until he has to leave again. Making sure you feel paid attention to.
And he knows that the place he lives in itself is a bit dreary. It's actually probably more spacious than the average college student's apartment, but that positive is very quickly outweighed by the lack of windows, being a basement. He tries to make up for this by having those strip-tape colored LED lights all over the place (they look cool right??) and leaving the TV running for background noise quite often. Making sure you have entertainment and light is only the least he can do to express his care for your mental health.
Oh, and of course, he makes or brings you food every day. He's gotten really good at making breakfast foods, usually prepares them ahead of time, and makes smoothies and the like, and he does always get you one too (yours is not the same thing though, his is special... he's been making the protein smoothies for months, so any day now he's going to get big muscly arms like he's been hoping to. You'll see).
Gifts are important. One of the more problematic factors in this is that he's kind of... broke. So, he does what he can, although in his head it does make him paranoid that he feels like he's not doing enough, not buying expensive enough things. Still, he scrapes his funds together for gifts, although you might not see it that way. Sure, he does get you some things like clothes and cute things (you eventually had to tell him to stop getting you stuffed animals after he brought home so many you don't have space for them). But a lot of his gifts are fun things you can use together, AKA just vibrating toys he buys online and a wide variety of high-quality S/M paraphernalia that he may or may not have drawn money out of his savings account for.
He can make up for his lack of significant funding, though, with other means. There are lots of things that go into being a good boyfriend. Like, uh... well, he did used to like every post you made on social media, but you two came to a mutual agreement together after a lot of healthy calm discussion like a good boyfriend would engage in, that it would be for the best if you don't have a phone anymore.
He explained his reasoning very politely and respectfully, that it's not good for your mental health. Lots of bad news out there in the world that would just be depressing, and even if he cancelled your actual phone service, there are just so many apps out there these days that allow you to communicate with people online and contact people and there's no way he could ever find every single one to block your access, so, since you're impulsive and might talk to people and tell them very personal things that shouldn't get out, it's for your own good. Oh, and the blue light too, not good for your eyes you know.
You didn't necessarily agree with his reasoning, and complained quite a bit, got yourself all worked up. And he did listen to you, of course, not interrupting or talking over you like bad guys tend to do, and uh, what's the terminology people use...? Right, he, ah, validated your feelings, gave you room to speak your thoughts, made sure to communicate healthily (not that he's entirely sure what that means, but he was honest and kept calm so that probably qualifies). The things you're supposed to do.
But that doesn't necessarily mean he has to give in or compromise or anything. No, technically, that would be a bad boyfriend too, if he just let you do whatever you wanted, when what you want is not what's best for you. The term is "tough love" or something like that. But you did eventually accept it which means you at least agree to the condition, even if you don't agree with the reasoning.
It just took time and continuously explaining the reasoning to you even when he already did that a hundred times and you won't stop bringing it up and one day he's finally had enough of it so the only way you'll get it through your head and stop throwing tantrums is to make you understand.
Well, no, no, he would never really hurt you. This is just corporeal punishment, and while it's not nice, it's ultimately out of love, such things are necessary sometimes. And besides, the tools he bought are intended for this exact purpose, so its appropriate and not something risking injury, although it does leave welts and bruises. Still, it's out of care, and he holds you close and kisses your forehead and rubs your back while you cry afterwards.
And to make up for the times when he has to be mean (only because you force him to be), he tries his best to make you happy because that's what's really important. And what's more fun than spending a lot of time together?
You would call it being smothered, though, although you're never really in the mood to try and be mean to him about it and risk having welts for a week... again. Besides, it offers some entertainment from the otherwise dull, boring hellscape that is life whenever he's gone. At least when he's here, it makes things a bit more interesting than watching stuff alone.
A rather cute thing (at least, it would be if things were normal) is that he tends to have very clean, and sometimes juvenile tastes in media. He prefers games, movies and shows that have very low content ratings for age-appropriateness, rarely anything that you wouldn't be comfortable showing a ten-year-old. His shows of preference are usually those "cartoon intended for kids but gained a solid adult fanbase as well" types of shows, and the games he plays are usually simulators and strategies rather than anything particularly violent.
None of that is a bad thing, of course, but it can get a bit dull over time, and you do sometimes express a desire to do maybe something a little different. Which he happily complies with, of course, because it would be terrible of him to be so selfish as to not be willing to let you share your interests. So he often lets you pick what to watch for the evening. One time you forced him to sit through a horror film and you're pretty sure you scarred him for life, seeing as he was the one clinging to you throughout most of it.
Perhaps the most important aspect of goodness, though, is your interactions. Those are paramount, ensuring that every talk you have is, uh, healthy... is that the word? Pretty sure that's the word. He's seen people say that before.
He's very nice. Listens to you even when you're being mean. That's part of the deal, right? That he's supposed to listen and hear you out even when he'd rather not because you don't deserve it and you're being ridiculous-- but still, he listens, because he's just really, really good and so much better than anyone other person you could have, who would probably have shut you up several minutes ago but here he is clenching his jaw and fist and forcing himself to let you talk anyway because he's so so so good and has so much self-control and would never be one of those guys that would lose his temper so easily! Haha.
Not that he has no limits, no, not if you just keep going and going being so mean and mouthy and eventually you cross some line or push him over the edge. But he's not someone who would yell or anything, no, he's better than that. He's very collected and firm about it, doesn't have some outburst or explosive anger, just... does what he has to. You're all worked up and have all this pent up emotion and stress and frustration and maybe another caning or fucking your throat will help you get that out cathartically. Again, you may not like it, but it's about what's best for you overall.
It's also very very important to take care of you afterwards. He gets you baths and food and gives you words of comfort. See, that's another area where he's definitely doing better than other guys who are selfish and lazy.
...And likewise, he also realizes that he's missing the critical element of going out. The best boyfriends (as per his analysis from lots of past social media scrolling) usually plan really nice dates and stuff, there's all sorts of popular forms of this, like movies and fairs and zoos and coffee shops and so on.
Unfortunately, that's... well, that's just not realistic. You're just not ready for that yet. Maybe one day you will be! Just... very, very far off in the future. He would like that one day, you could go do fun things. But for now, he has to prioritize your health and well-being, and make judgements based on that, so, although it pains him, he's willing to stay home all the time since it's what you really need, even if you don't understand that.
In the end, he's actually probably the least compromising on that regard. But that's fair because he compromises all the time.
Compromises have to be made sometimes on your end, right? And, well, he's been doing so good in all other areas, putting in so much effort, that it's only fair you compromise with him every now and then. That's... that's part of relationships, isn't it? He's always heard that said. He gives into your wishes a lot, so... you know, he's not being demanding or controlling or anything like that, no, he's just asking that you compromise this time around.
And try to be understanding, see things from his perspective and really listen, be entirely honest... the way he always does for you.
------
On the far opposite end, Albedo has never really placed any importance on conforming to societal expectations, or the cultural standard of "good." He prefers to approach things in a manner based on the conclusions he forms himself, after reflecting on the matter for a while.
He's always been so busy, never had time to have a relationship before, so he does have to really think through the matter, as it's new to him. He does care for you, of course, so his primary desire is for you to be healthy and avoid unnecessary distress or pain. Granted, when going through the matter in his head, he does feel that he would like for you to be happy, but... well, he realizes that it's probably a bit too early to have that as a goal, because if he aims for that now, he's bound to end up disappointed, given how resistant you are.
Besides, to care for another's wellbeing is the basis of affection, isn't it? So even if it takes some time, you will understand his efforts to care for you as such. That's all he really needs to do, follow his own guidelines. Societal and cultural ones are pointless, and he doesn't feel any guilt or like he's doing something incorrectly by not doing so (unlike the aforementioned individuals).
In fact, that ties to another aspect of his personality. He's one of those people that can be very quiet for a long time, but if you prompt him to speak on a topic of interest, he can suddenly go on a whole long spiel... and one thing he could ramble about is a distaste for modernity and common culture and social settings.
People are so obsessed with material things, hedonistic tendencies, a culture that encourages rapid consumption of new things and riding out thrills only to discard them when the newness wears off... including people.
He's quiet enough that people tend to disregard his presence if he's just sort of quietly going about his work, which has allowed him to overhear a lot of conversations regarding the messy, dysfunctional relationships of some of the people he works alongside. A lot of them get abandoned by significant others, very few seem to be in relationships that last, it's mostly just people hopping from one person to the next... is that really normal for, you know, normal people? If so, you've probably been influenced by that too, probably had friends like that or seen it happening around you and it's been normalized to you.
Which is how he explains his justification for keeping you, when you start to argue against it. All things considered, stable relationships are better in the long-run, but you're very unwise and impulsive and would just make mistakes you'd regret (like leaving him for someone else) if he were to extend any autonomy to you. Well... more realistically, the primary issue is you'd go to the police, but he's talking in hypotheticals and the bigger picture of your life and all that. Maintaining control over you may upset you, but it's in your best interest, which you're incapable of making decisions for yourself.
He has no desire to follow norms. Not in terms of a relationship, nor any official acknowledgement of a relationship either. What matters is the strength of care and affection and unity between two people, and his for you is to the utmost, so that's all that really matters.
Being what the current culture considers a "good partner" would require a lot of compromising and sacrificing to meet you halfway and give in to some of what you want, among other things he has no intention of doing. He's content with the idea that showing affection in his own way will gradually lead you to accept him more. No need for the additional effort of jumping through arbitrary hoops to earn some recognition or gratitude -- which you probably wouldn't give anyway. Even if he did put in all that effort (which, by the way, would also mean swallowing quite a bit of pride to "compromise" with you), you would still keep a bad attitude for the time being, he's fairly certain.
And another matter, the reason he can't "compromise" with you is simply that his decisions are right and yours almost always tend to reflect on your complete lack of understanding of things. Why would he compromise with you when you're simply wrong? That's unreasonable.
Besides, given the... nature of your relationship and dynamic, being so different from that of two normal people, it goes without saying that you can't apply unfitting rules to a unique situation they don't align with. For example, one common standard is going out on dates, presumably that he'd pay for... but, that's not exactly feasible, for obvious reasons, even aside from his dislike of such environments.
Rather than being lazy and careless, he instead puts a lot of effort and finances and care into ensuring your security and well-being, investing a lot of money into a unique security system that cost great deal more than average due to very advanced features. Cameras, sensors, and most importantly, an alert to his phone every time a door or window to the outside is opened. Gets good food for you to make (please, he's very very busy, it would be nice and give you something to do too, he's sustained himself off of microwave food for years now due to lack of time so having you to do so is really helpful...) and admittedly does spend generous amounts of money on things for you to do to occupy your time. So in terms of domestic matters, he would say he's meeting what he thinks is good.
The social norms for courtship are also largely pointless. What, go out on dates? To do what? Most movies are mindless entertainment and not worth wasting time on. Pretty much any other venue is going to be loud and crowded. There is absolutely no reason you can't experience the exact same bonding, perhaps more even, inside in the nice, quiet environment of his apartment.
That environment becomes suffocating for you, though. You go through a regular routine. He gets one of those stipends to fund his expenses, so he doesn't have to work a separate job, thankfully. Lab research has set times, though, so it's sort of like working, he's just gone for a portion of the day and comes back in the afternoon. Then, it's just doing whatever for the rest of the day, usually you trying to entertain yourself while he works and types away.
It's not always work, though. One rather unpleasant thing you really wish he wouldn't do is that he seems determined to scour the corners of the internet for anything related to you. He already stole your phone when you were brought here, got all your logins and accounts to all sorts of websites, your search history, everything, and now stays logged into your accounts on his computer (via VPN, of course, he's not so careless as to risk someone taking notice and being traced back to him).
He just goes through everything. Everything. Every little comment you've ever made across different websites, everything you've ever searched, every site you've ever visited, people and accounts you followed. It feels very uncomfortable, a violation of privacy. And, well, who hasn't made at least one comment on an anonymous site that they'd be embarrassed to have attached to their real selves? Unfortunately you never realized just how many until now, that he keeps bringing them, along with other snippets from your digital footprint, up to you.
I see that on September 6th of last year, it seems you posted this rather vague statement to your account. What did that mean exactly?
I'm cross-referencing your following list across a few different platforms and noticed an outlier you only have added to one account. Who is this?
The app won't allow me to scroll back any further in this conversation you were having. Is there a way to view even older messages or...?
You always grind your teeth. It's not even important!, you say. It really isn't. None of this information is anything particularly relevant to... well, anything. Sure, you already knew he's sort of obsessed with learning about your life prior to him, but he already learned everything you would have thought important ages ago. All the major details of your life, where you went to school and who your friends and family members and all that are and your relationship to most people you regularly spoke to, he already has all of that. At this point he's just going through pointless details. Why on earth would he care about the random searches you've made, or a comment you left on a video years ago?
It just interests me.
So he says. While it baffles you, you have to deal it, and with the irritation of being frequently asked questions about meaningless searches and comments and posts dating back years. You've gotten over the initial embarrassment of it, now it's just annoying. He questions you about things as if you would remember why you made a search for this or that five years ago. Always asking who people are and what was your connection to them. Criticizing your viewing habits - you wasted so much time watching pointless videos. You eventually it's better not to argue against that, lest you get the speech on how such stimuli will ruin your attention span and slowly kill your brain or something like that, you don't really know, you always stop listening after a while.
That ties into another very, very, very quickly irritating thing: he cannot intake any piece of media non-critically.
He's actually rather pretentious about it, but in a subtle way. He'll come back in the afternoon to you watching whatever show you've chosen to stream as your daily entertainment. He walks through the door, leans over and looks at the screen for a moment.
Yeah, that does seem like something you would enjoy.
What? What does that mean?
Oh, nothing.
You have to learn to bite your tongue. Sometimes you try to get him to relax instead of being so stressed out from working, get him to actually watch something with you, but he tends to be critical of that too -- one of those people that feels the need to point out physics inaccuracies in everything. You tend to get a bit worked up over the irritation. Yes I know it doesn't work like that, it's not supposed to be accurate it's supposed to be entertaining! Just watch the damn movie! Ugh!
Not that it's the only matter he can be pretentious about. Even that one time you tried to be nice (as part of the 'I'm never getting out of here so I might as well try to bond' mental crisis process you go through a few times a day) and asked him about the research he's always working on.
Well, this is the sort of thing that would be over your head. You'd just get confused if I tried to explain it to you.
You scowl and groan. He just sighs. He's just being honest, you know.
See, like everything else, part of being "good" per the standards of current popular culture would be to be mindful of and navigate around your tendency for sensitivity. Which is nonsensical. There's no point in sugar-coating things when communicating directly and straightforwardly works more efficiently.
He doesn't really make an active effort to do the opposite, no, it's not like he's coarse and abrasive, but he just makes no effort to adjust his tendency to be somewhat blunt when discussing various matters. He already has to do enough of the whole overly-cautious, careful with every word thing in the professional setting all the time. It's nice to have someone he can just be very straightforward with, which is what comes much more naturally to him.
Besides, having to walk on eggshells and watch everything you say around the person you're partnered to would be exhausting. And... it's dishonest, you know? No matter how you look at it, dishonesty is poor behavior. Honesty is a better, more respectable quality, even if you might not like honesty all the time.
The unfortunate thing is that him having no filter on what he says means he can be a bit condescending. It just comes out naturally.
He likes you, of course, but at the end of the day he still has this mentality that seems so condescending, like you're dumb and emotional. He once told you you were being hysterical when you were having one of your regular episodes of crying and sniffling whilst trying to argue about your situation, and admittedly the resulting outburst you had probably didn't help change his mind. It's a cycle; being treated in such an infantilizing way often makes you more upset, thereby more emotional, and then your emotional outbursts thereby only validate and justify treating you as such.
He tends to assume a lot of things about you, too. You complain about being bored? Well, you're probably used to instant gratification and stimulus, probably addicted to your phone and social media and the like. It's doubtful that you've ever really been all that productive. It's a very common phenomenon these days, people who don't really do anything important (like you) get swallowed up into mindless entertainment.
Luckily for you, he provides you with a lifestyle where you don't have to be productive, which is quite benevolent. And you're now whining about being assigned to some task? Well, you've probably never had to really work for anything before. After all, you could always just get anything you want handed to you by being sweet and nice, surely you would never understand what it means to have had to put effort into anything. And any emotional reactions or outbursts you have in response are basically just confirmation that he's right, you know.
This bluntness, though, does end up causing one particularly upsetting incident. You've been in a bad mood, are getting so exasperating again with how you're being grouchy and mean and resentful. You're mad at him for doing something or another, and you do what you always do when you're mad -- resort to not-so-subtly implying the future spells an end for him. In truth, it used to bother him a lot, it would make him paranoid, which you probably picked up on and is why you continue to do it, always going for the same lines each time. One of these days, someone's gonna come knocking on that door, one day someone will find me--
And you're at it again, even more whiny than usual, pacing around the room while he works on some paper or another. You've been on this campaign lately to try and get him to let you search your name online, see what is being said by your local news and the like. Perhaps telling you that there hadn't been anything published in a while, and thereby accidentally inadvertently admitting to regularly performing that exact search himself, was a poor idea, as you caught it and have refused to let the matter go ever since. And he's trying to concentrate on his own work, and perhaps that's why he's a bit even more unfiltered than usual.
People are still looking for me! I know my friends and family would never give up trying to find me. They're looking for me.
The keyboard keeps clacking, but he doesn't miss a beat.
Your body.
You pause for a moment.
...Huh?
He speaks very matter-of-factly, fingers tapping away on the keyboard as he speaks, not even looking up at you.
They're looking for your body. They've most likely changed their search locations by now to nearby areas that would be ideal for someone to dump human remains.
For a moment, you just stand still, slack-jawed and wide eyed before finally losing your temper--
You're horrible! How can you say something like that?! I... I...
--but you quiet down, biting your lip, sinking downward and pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. A few more seconds pass.
Statistically speaking, it would be very unlikely for you to be alive at this point.
I know.
So from an outside perspective, it would simply be a more realistic use of time and resources to--
I get it!
You have to bite your tongue when he sighs, as if you're being unreasonable. You let a few more seconds pass, grinding your teeth at that annoying keyboard sound until you speak again.
Are you trying to get me to be grateful? Feel like I'm lucky because you *aren't* the kind of psycho to kill me?
He just shrugs, still doesn't look up.
No. You ended up here with me, so you certainly aren't very lucky at all.
You groan, letting your head fall down onto your knees. At least his honesty is consistent.
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puppetstringed · 17 days
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I need to scamper around on all fours in the woods at night asap
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