like tadc isnt my main fandom but the tadc crit ableism racism sexism transphobia is foul so loke imma keep critting yall until you decide to cancel somone actually dangerous like jk rowling
No they're not
We're actually cancelling her.
If you're going to criticize something, at least learn the difference between a slang word and harassment. You look stupid right now
“You can’t wish violence on your abusers” damn I didn’t know maybe I should have just continued to stay in contact with my dad after he strangled me for getting groomed when I was 9. I should’ve not fought him. Taking the power back is wrong and I will lick the boots of every abuser ever!
Anyways here’s jax if he wasn’t furrybait and no one could defend his actions
Okay, let me make this 100% clear since apparently, saying it once isn’t enough.
This is not about your fucking fandoms.
“But the character is racist!” I don’t fucking care, this post is about real people who pull this shit. Stop tagging it with fictional characters, it means you are not taking the post seriously.
It is incredibly fucking disrespectful, and I really shouldn’t have to be saying this more than once.
Coming from a fandom goer, y’all need to do way fucking better than this.
I don’t care that I’m being rude, I’m tired of seeing fellow Black Tumblr users alongside myself have their posts be made about fandoms they were never about, and YOU are much ruder for derailing a post about racism.
stop censoring words. say ableism. say rape. say facism. say sexual assault and harassment. say racism. say sexism. say suicide. say all these words. stop censoring yourself. now.
⊹♡ 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 : 1 star, 2 stars, 9 stars, how many did you make? After encountering you in the alleyway, Cuphead recounts the story about how he met you. How two lonely souls spend their time at the park at night in each other’s company, trading stories and make paper stars curious why they saved him only to slowly form a bond.
₊˚⊹♡ 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃 : 5.8k words
₊˚⊹♡ 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 — Unedited. Idk what came over me. I don't like it gru voice. Self-loathing implications, anxiety, bittersweet, mention of blood.
⋆.𐙚 ̊— MOTM! CUPHEAD X QUIET! READER
₊˚⊹♡ CUPHEAD POV.
“You’re hurt.”
“What’s it to ya, toots?” I winced, leaning and pressing my side against the back alley wall, clutching my stomach that was sticky from the blood. I was trying to catch my breath after getting a nasty hit from one of our targets when I stumbled upon someone who noticed my situation even with the narrow opening.
Dammit, I was caught off guard.
I just had to lose Mugsy.
The stranger tilted their head before I watched them unzipped their bag and pulled out some bandages, gauze rolls and crouched down to place it next to me. Just within my reach.
They didn’t yell for help. Not a scream.
“I don’t know how you got hurt, but you must be running from someone.” They murmured so softly that I thought for a second it was from the blood loss, making me lose my head.
What kind of idiot just helps a guy holdin’ a gun and is stained with blood just right out of the blue?
Most people would've called the cops.
The smart ones would've kept walking.
“You probably don’t trust me.” They sounded apologetic as they took a few steps back but their face didn’t change. “That’s okay.”
“But, I don’t like the idea of someone dying alone in front of me.”
It was a winter day when I saw them again at the park. It wasn’t busy but there was a faint echo in the air coming from the kids running around, wild and free. Mugs had to stop by the bookstore before our next job and I didn’t exactly find it fun just hanging around some dusty books, waitin’ for him.
That I couldn’t even read.
So, I went for a small walk around.
They were sitting alone at an old bench just overlooking the lake, head resting against the backrest as if they forgot the rest of the world exists. Their eyes were closed, the bare branches overhead casting shifting shadows across their face spots of light from the winter sun filtered through.
They looked relaxed.
Like they didn’t have a reason to look ova’ their shoulder.
To keep watch.
‘Funny…’ I thought to myself.
They didn’t even stir when I saw a couple of crows land just by their toes, pecking small crumbs off the ground. Didn't even faze 'em. Not a twitch. Not an eye cracked open. It was almost like they became a part of the scenery.
“Cup!” I almost flinched, snapping out of my daze, realizing I’ve just been staring like some kind of creep. I turn to look behind me to see Mugman walking towards me. Must’ve finished his afternoon bookworm stuff.
“We can go now.”
Before we left however, my eyes went for a final glance and that’s when I saw them opening their eyes just in time to catch my stare. For a brief moment, neither of us looked away. As me and Mugs walked away, I saw their lips lift a little before they went back to having their little nap.
They didn’t call the police that time either.
It was weird.
Something about you lingered in the back of my head after we left the park. And you wouldn’t leave no matter what I did.
The next time I saw them, it was at the same park a few nights later when I got into a little spat with Mugman after taking out another target. Nothing unusual. Same ol’, same old. But, I decided to go out to clear my head.
Sometimes needed a breather after a kill.
I wandered back to the park, gloves in my pocket, thinkin’ the cold air would do me some good. And there they were.
Leaning against the railing, absentmindedly folding a square of paper while staring across the lake. It wasn’t like last time during the day where they were relaxing without a care in the world. This time they look deep in thought, mind somewhere else entirely.
What luck.
Their head turned ever so slightly, and those familiar eyes found mine almost instantly. For a moment, neither of us spoke, simply just silent.
“...Oh, it’s you.” They said, barely even a whisper that I thought I needed to strain my ears to hear ‘em.
It became silent for another few seconds.
“I sometimes come here to think. I like the silence the night gives me compared to the day.” They turned back to the lake. “It’s my hiding spot, er, well, supposed to be…”
Their fingers folded another crease with practiced ease. They must’ve noticed my eyes on their hands since another small laugh escapes them.
“Paper stars. Make them to pass the time.” They held up the tiny shape for a second, allowing me to see. “...Keeps my hands busy and head light.”
Without really thinkin’ about it, I decided to follow in their lead and leaned against the railing as well a few feet away, leaving some space to keep my guard up.
What can I say? Old habits die hard.
I saw their eyes flicker towards me before gazing back to the lake. Neither of us said a wink after that. Just stood there watching the lake with a small occasional breeze coming in and out once and a while with the rustle of paper. It was like I was trying to take their advice and see what they saw.
Could almost understand why they came here.
It was quiet. Peaceful, even.
Still though, I knew their little trick wouldn’t be the same with me.
If they knew the things rattlin’ my head.
If it was only that easy to forget the sound of gunshots.
Before I knew it, the words just slipped out. “You ain’t gonna ask?”
They hummed in thought as they leaned their chin against their arms on the rails, fumbling with their paper star.
“...Would you answer?”
“...Probably not.”
They chuckled softly again as if I just put out a joke.
“Then, I won’t….”
Simple as that.
There was no pryin’.
No questions.
Just quiet.
And before I knew it, it became a routine.
I didn’t tell Mugman about you. Well, at least at first.
I was curious. Just wanted to check your motives. Telling myself at the same time you would be just a stranger I’d bump into once and a while.
Nothin’ more.
Then one night turned into another.
I'd find myself wanderin’ back to the park after a job, telling myself I just needed some air.
Sometimes, you weren’t there, other times you were.
“Sorry, had an errand to run.”
You’d apologize each time when I was here before you. Like I was just expecting you to be there.
“Why’re you apologizing, I’m here for the quiet, pipsqueak.”
It felt like a lie.
Because it did feel oddly empty when they weren’t and I’d end up heading back early. It felt quieter than usual.
Too quiet.
Most of the time though, you were either at the bench or at the railings just staring at the lake before I got there, before you noticed I was there. And each time you gave the smallest smile as if you were happy to see little ol’ me. It was just like you knew every time.
No matter how quiet I was.
No matter how far I was standing.
You just knew.
Like you also wanted to find me and make sure before I did.
Before I knew it, we started talkin’, full-on conversations at the bench with ya’ laughin’ at the ridiculous stories I came up with. Some of em’ true, some completely exaggerated. Still, each time, you ended up crouching down from stitches, desperately holding in your giggle, making this weird feeling creep up my chest that made a smile slip from me too.
“...Horses?” They blinked. “You're scared of horses….?”
“Never said I was scared.” My jaw unconsciously twitched as I kept up my grin. “I said I didn’t like ‘em.”
“...Right.” They giggled and I felt myself go hot, clicking my tongue as I heard them laugh.
"It's my brother's fault."
Was it weird I found it adorable?
I found myself wanting to make you laugh at least once every time I saw you. Tellin’ stories just to make you laugh.
I remember ya’ also started joking around too after a while. Took longer than I did crawling out of your shell. But, you started sharing bits and pieces of your own. The little things. Ordinary stuff.
And stuff that just ridiculous to the ears.
“Hol’ on, You’re telling me you almost weren’t able to pay rent, just because you got fined for littering paper stars around here?” I snorted.
“I just forgot. I guess being too focused has its cons, okay….” They mumbled, words jumbling. Their cheeks were the color of the apples Mugman bought last week. Completely flustered, I tell ya’. First time I saw them like this.
“It’s not like it was going to fly away.” I chuckled. “They’d try the next day if you aren’t at the door,
“I panicked. I was in a hurry because I remembered that I had a parcel coming in that day and I didn’t want the mailman to be wondering and wasting his time… ” They continued mumbling as they fiddled with a paper star they just finished.
…Maybe it was even more adorable.
Sweatin’ the small details?
“Didn’t peg you to be a cheeky criminal yourself, pipsqueak.”
They tried to glare at me, but the tomato cheeks made it kinda hard to take it seriously, making me snort once more when they playfully smacked my arm.
Couldn’t hurt a fly.
“I’m not a criminal.” They puffed their cheeks as they gazed down at the strip of paper, going back to folding, hands rushing from the embarrassment. “It happened once."
"One too many." I grinned.
They smacked me again.
It became silent again. Yet, somehow the silence felt warmer this time. It was quiet for a few until they spoke again.
“...Will…Will you be here tomorrow?” They put on a small smile.
The question came out so quietly I almost missed it.
"...Yeah."
Didn't even have ta’ think about it.
I didn’t know what that feeling was. It just kept sitting there inside me that kept popping up more whenever you were around. It hurted yet at the same time I couldn’t wait to feel it again. I was more used to the adrenaline when shots were fired. The stabs. The close calls. Running from the law.
None of it compared to this.
But, I kept chasing it.
Every time you were there, the voices in my head became quieter, laying on the head of the bench, the sounds of soft crinkling replacing them. It was almost enough to catch me falling asleep but I would stop myself just in time.
It was terrifying.
It was terrifyin’ how easily you got past my guard.
Despite that, I still went back. It was like my body was on autopilot every other night. Acting like some zombie with my feet carrying me back to park. Back to you.
I remember spottin’ them at the benches this time, head hanging low. For a short second, I thought they were cryin’, and I unconsciously quickened my pace.
Only to see them folding slips of paper beneath the dim lights. Their paper stars. Remember seeing some of them scattered on the ground. They were concentrating so hard that they were sticking their tongue out, only for their eyes to blink when they noticed me, catchin’ my breath and sweatin’ it like a pig.
“....Hey, you alright?” They immediately dropped what they’re doing and stood up, the paper stars on their lap fluttering onto the ground just to check on me.
Makin’ a little fuss.
It made something in me tingle.
“...You’re gonna give me a heart attack someday, pipsqueak.” I let out a breathless chuckle, collapsing onto the bench to catch my breath.
They tilted their head confused, staring at me with doe eyes. Could almost see the question mark floatin’ around their head if it wasn’t for the fact I was still winded from the whole thing.
Maybe it wasn’t just the sound of papers.
There were few times where we would just sit together in silence when I felt too tired. That rattling noise in my head became too loud.
You still didn’t push me. Never questioned my mood as you went back to foldin’. Humming softly in the silence.
I guess that’s when I started noticing your hands.
Probably sound like a creep, now that it's out there. Don’t know how else to put it. It was like watchin’ paint dry. Boring as hell.
But, somehow it still fascinated me.
Watching your hands patiently fold a piece of paper. Never rushing.
Treated it like it was some kind of glass.
Careful enough not to wrinkle it.
Careful not to tear it.
“Did you know that paper stars were originally lucky charms?” You said softly at one random night.
"...Really?"
They nodded.
"At least... that's what I was told." You look back at the stars right beside you with this sparkly glow in your eyes.
Fuck.
And that’s when I realized, I was screwed.
Between your laughs and those damn paper stars…
Became aware that I’d fallen in too deep.
When Mugman found out about you, he was completely stumped.
At least for the first few seconds.
He gave me an earful.
He wasn’t exactly angry but he wasn’t happy about it either at least that's what he said. But his expressions told me the opposite. In fact, he gave me what felt like a twelve hour lecture about how we shouldn’t be letting “innocents” catch sight of us during a job.
He was also confused why anyone would just leave bandages. For a smart guy like him, you would’ve probably thought he would at least give ya’ a clue.
But, he didn’t. He was the same as me.
“Normal people don’t patch some guy in an alley and walk away…” He muttered, placing his hand on his chin to think. I could see where his thoughts were going.
No strings attached?
Even now, it was hard to believe.
“Either way, you should stay away. Could’ve been a spy. You know how these guys go about revenge and paybacks.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “...You should be glad you only saw them a couple of times.”
I kept my smile on.
Never told him how I kept meeting with you.
There was a lump in my throat whenever I tried.
Thought each time that it would be the last.
Yet I always found myself back there.
Looking forward to seein’ ya.
Watching you smile each time you finish those little paper stars like it was the most important thing in the world.
And the closer you got, the dirtier I felt.
“You’re going away for a while…?”
It was another night for us at the park. The same as usual, yet somethin’ in the air was different this time.
“Ordered to.” I kept it vague before grinning. “Why, miss me already?”
“Hmm…”Not exactly the answer I was lookin’ for. They softly hummed as they paused from their little craft to stare at me. It was almost nerve-wracking the way they kept staring at me so intensely that I swear I found my head leaking a little. You then turned your gaze back to your lap, biting your lip, clearly thinking.
“...Do you wanna make paper stars with me?” They held out a paper strip to me. They kept their expression gentle when they looked at me again.
I blinked.
Huh?
They tilted their head, giving this small shy smile. “...Well, I don’t know when I’ll see you.”
I raised a brow before allowing a grin to slip out once more before scratching my neck and hesitantly taking the paper with a sigh after I saw their eyes on me.
“Pipsqueak, I ain’t really qualified for arts and craft…”
They just smiled and scooted a little closer until our shoulders were almost touching, making me stiffen a little from the contact for a moment.
“That’s okay. I’ll show you just like this …” They giggled softly and held up the paper, patiently folding while waiting for me. “We’ll take it slow.”
“Careful now, Some interesting take you got there.” I wiggled my brows. That made them give me a small nudge with a small snort.
But I saw their cheeks turn a bit rosy.
‘Cute…’
They sighed. “Not what I meant and you know it.”
“You sure you don’t got an easier hobby, pipsqueak?” Man, I could just feel the artists holding a gun to my head when I held out what’s supposed to be the product. It looked so tiny on my gloved hand compared to what I see with them.
“Man, it looks shitty…” I mumbled under my breath as I stared at it. It looked more like a crumpled ball. A second later, I saw your hand covering mine.
“It looks fine.” They placed their papers down, gently guiding my hands to pinch the sides. “Here, don’t pinch it too hard or you’ll wrinkle the folds, see…?”
“Still looks crappy compared to yours.”
“Doesn’t need to look perfect…”
I remember how my chest began hurting again. I remember tryin’ to get it together, telling me to let go. But, all I could notice was the warmth from your hands as I allowed you to do as you please. Your hands were smooth and delicate, almost fragile even. It looked impossibly smaller on top of mine.
It was like you didn’t know anythin’ rougher than a papercut.
It felt pure.
And I felt absolutely filthy.
Becoming painfully aware of the invisible bloodstains from my hands.
You held them, without knowin’ the things I’ve done.
The things I’ve done to survive.
“Cup? Cuphead…?” I blinked out of my daze to see them staring with worry in their eyes, I was still holding the paper star. They said quietly. “Are you okay?”
I saw them waving a hand in front of my face when I didn’t answer and almost absentmindedly, I grabbed their hand, fingers slowly wrappin’ around their wrist.
Guess my body moved before my brain did.
‘Warm…’ I thought.
Soft.
Once more.
“Cup…?” Hearing their murmuring made me blink, realizing what I just did, my brain finally catching up to me. They were pink again and I swear I almost saw steam coming out of their head.
Shit.
Shit.
“Crap! Sorry…” I immediately loosened my grip, the quiet warm slipping away,and scratched the back of my neck, avoiding their gaze. “Sorry, don’t know what came over me…”
“No, no, it’s fine….” They mumbled, seemingly just as flustered, their head low as their fingers fiddled with the paper star they just made, nervously smoothing the creases. “Really…”
Now this was awkward.
‘Why’d I go and do that…’ My eyes unconsciously drifted to my hand. The one where I held their hand for what felt like a few seconds. Slowly, I curled and flexed my fingers onto my palm.
The warmth already faded.
Yet, it felt weirdly empty….
“I wasn’t uncomfortable, if you’re wondering…” They spoke, must’ve noticed from my expression.
Now, I really couldn’t look em’ in the eye.
It became quiet again, neither of us speaking a word, only the faint rustles of paper in the air when I felt a light weight against my shoulder a moment later.
“Cuphead…?”
I hummed, taking a peer at them, only to find their face hidden. Couldn’t see what face they were wearing.
“Stay safe, will you…?”
They spoke, barely a whisper.
For some reason, hearing those four words settled in my chest and I felt my throat go tight.
“Yeah… I will.”
But who knew that later on, my head would get blown off by a mutt?
“HA! I’M BACK IN MY BOD—” Not even a second that I collapsed back onto the hospital bed. I just woke up to find myself hooked up to some machine, surrounded by the Gardenview folk after the whole trainwreck of a ride.
Pun unintended.
And in an instant, I felt everything comin’ back at once.
Includin’ the pain.
And shit, it hurted like hell.
“AUGH! I FORGOT HOW MUCH THIS HURTS!”
I was glad that I was back in my body though, not gonna lie, but phasing around trees as a ghost isn’t exactly my idea of fun.
Especially when you’re surrounded by searchers.
Really wasn’t a good time…
“Awh Mugs…” I lifted my head and with my one good eye, I could see the tears pouring out as he rushed to hug me. No doubt he was worried after my cup shattered into bits and pieces. Must’ve taken ‘em a while to patch me up.
I felt his grip tighten even more as I felt him tremblin’ and sniffling.
Heh, was always the ugly crier.
“C’mon Mugs, you knew I’d be fine!” I replied sheepishly, smiling.
“You know I’d never leave you!”
And I always stay true to my word.
“Stay safe, will you…?”
Their words echo through my head as someone slowly pulled Mugman off of me, who went completely limp in my arms. That flower fella explained that it was most likely from the stress we were in hours ago, fighting searchers and escaping through the train.
And to make sure that I was safe.
“Yeah… I will.”
Just as everyone left, I remember that toon stayed for a few more minutes, halting his footsteps to turn back to me, his expressions lookin’ unusually nervous before he took a small breath.
“I don’t know if I should be the one letting you know about this…” He started, makin’ me raise a brow. “But, someone wanted to leave you a small gift on the table next to you, they just seemed so familiar with you that I thought to at least tell you…”
He pointed to it with his cane, makin’ me follow it and turned my head to the small drawer right beside me only to freeze with my eyes almost blasting outta their sockets when they saw it.
There was a glass jar sitting there.
Filled to the top with paper stars before sealed shut.
I hesitantly placed my hand on the jar, unaware that my body began shakin’ a little. ‘This…’
“Did you know when you create those, the number of them changes the meaning? An old friend taught me that. You don’t see a lot of them doing this sort of things these days. Niche thing really….” The flower toon huffed a chuckle. “That soul was waiting outside like a leaf when they saw you being taken in. Scared them half to death that I swear I remember seeing a small trail of them, heh.”
My head swivelled around fast to look at him, feeling that beatin’ heart going haywire.
‘No way…’
“From the size of it, it looks to me at least 500 considering how little these things are.” He grinned.
“At that number, it usually means they’re trying to say I love you.”
Love?
Love me?
Me?
A warmth bloomed in my chest and I felt that familiar ache coming back to me.
I swallowed the lump in my throat before my voice finally found me.
“...Where are they?”
A couple of hours later at night just as I was about to settle down to head to sleep, there was a knock on the door making me perk up.
“Who’s there?”
The door slightly cracked open.
“It’s me…”
Y’know, maybe it was the first I’ve ever seen you look so worn out, you had bags under your eyes, the half-size of a tennis ball, your hair looked all scraggly, and you were anxiously fiddling with your hands, lookin’ around the room as if you were tryin’ your best to avoid lookin’ at me.
But I couldn’t give two shits.
The second I heard their voice I ripped out the cast on my arm and threw the blanket aside while pushing myself upright, ignoring the pain, forgetting about the tube hooked into me.
"Hey, wait, stop—" They immediately rushed over to check on me, panic flashing across their face as they caught my shoulders before I could tumble out of bed. They gently pushed my chest to ease me back down. “You just went through something, you're supposed to be resting!”
“...So, will you quit trying to scare me?”
Your voice came out sharp. I could hear your voice shaking along with your hand where it was resting against my chest..
It was probably the first I’ve seen you this shaken and mad.
Now that you were standing so close, I finally got a good look at you. I could see the dried tear tracks on your cheeks and I saw that you were trying to keep from crying even more.
And I remember feelin’ like the shittiest guy in the world.
My hand moved before I could even think.
The rough pad of my thumb brushed against one of those faded streaks, as gently as I could manage. I felt you flinch beneath me as I slowly slid my hand on top of yours on my chest, giving it a small squeeze.
I could feel my heartbeat thuddin’ against my ribs beneath your palm. Warm, feelin' more alive somehow.
“I’m good.” I murmured. I crookedly grinned even though I could feel the pain shooting through me. “Fixed, see?”
But, I paid no mind to the pain as I finally saw your shoulders loosened, like it was all ya’ needed to know.
I didn’t know I could act like this either.
Maybe, cause it’s been a while since I saw you.
I was away for a while, going undercover for weeks on the job only to end up here, adding more cracks to the collection.
“...You’re a horrible liar.” You frowned through your tears. “One eye is literally being covered.”
“Ouch, pipsqueak.” I let out a soft chuckle. “First I’ve heard that from someone. It’s supposed to be my specialty.”
I saw the corners of your lips lift upwards, still a bit shaky. But at least you were smiling.
It was quiet for a few moments when I saw your eyes locked on to something behind me.
“It’s getting late…” You murmured, slowly lifting your palm. “You should be getting some sleep. I’ll come by tom-”
But, it was like I couldn’t bear the warmth leaving me, like you were gonna disappear on me, when I went to grab your hand again, curling around your wrist a bit more firmly.
The movement tugged at my cracked wounds, making me suck in a quiet breath, but I didn't let go.
“...Stay.”
The word came out so quietly I almost didn't recognize it as my own.
Your eyes widened.
“Please.”
Then, ever so carefully, you sat back down on my bed, your thumb brushing over my knuckles.
“Okay…”
“You look like you need more sleep than I do. Those bags look heavy.” The snort that came out of you made the room feel lighter. I patted the bed. “There’s enough space here.”
“That’s a medical hazard.” I heard you mumble, seeing you flush a light pink with bits of steam coming from the top of your head. “...And inappropriate.”
Made me realize how much I’ve missed that.
“No one’s getting hurt.”
“Still inappropriate.”
“Only if you think like that…”
“Someone could see us.”
“Only if we’re caught.”
“Not helping your case.”
This was the most I’ve heard you speak too, compared to our nightly meet-ups.
You looked between me and the door, almost as if you were checking whether anyone was about to walk in.
“You’re impossible.” You sighed, dropping shoulders in defeat.
“Isn’t that what you love about me?”
Now, that? That really wasn’t meant to slip out. I remember thinkin’ to myself : “Maybe, it’s time to find a grave.”
Shit.
The words hung in the air and everything went quiet again. Too quiet. I stared at the blanket over my lap while you stared anywhere but at me.
“...Yeah. I do.”
I slowly swiveled my head toward you, lookin’ like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. And I felt like the air just left me For once, I didn’t have a smart remark.
I heard you take a deep breath. “Mind scooting over?”
And there we were, laying in bed in silence as we both laid on our sides with your gaze low. Time felt like it was goin’ slow with the sounds of the beeps from that hospital machine and ticks coming from the clock behind us.
“I ran out of paper…” I heard you mumbled as you looked at your hands, fiddling with them anxiously. “It doesn’t feel right…”
Without thinking, I laid my hand over yours and your fingers stilled. You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden touch, your eyes slowly lifting to meet mine.
I flashed you a small grin. “Better?”
For a moment, you simply stared. Then, I saw the corners of your lips twitched.
A tiny smile.
Barely there.
But it was there.
And somehow... it felt brighter than any laugh I'd ever managed to pull from you.
“...Hey, not to sound suspicious or anythin’.” I started causing you to look at me. “But, how did you manage to get here…?”
“Was here on some business visit on behalf of a friend.” You replied quietly. “I was just supposed to deliver something and go but was told to stay for a few days due to the train being gone. Then, I saw your body carried in. And, I saw…I thought…”
You swallowed. “...Then I met your brother, er, Mugman.”
“Ah…” I felt my cup leaking.
I might be dying sooner than I thought. If it wasn’t from this, then no doubt it’s from Mugsy.
“I’m guessing he doesn’t know. Thought I was a spy?” I groaned silently, dragging my hand off of 'em’ to slide it down my face. I then heard you huff a chuckle. “I don't really think I’m built for that…”
“You do look like someone who could die from a papercut.”
Your cheeks puffed up as you glared at me before reaching your hand up to touch the bandages on my eye, fingers barely putting a graze of them as if afraid to hurt me even more.
And that shouldn’t have caused my heart to skip a beat.
The second you entered that room, it was like my heart decided to come back in from a vacation. Weeks undercover, controlling my heartbeat.
And it was like it had forgotten everything it's ever been in.
Being looked at with that much care.
Being touched like someone wanted to make sure I stayed alive.
I was in a vulnerable spot.
“But, I don’t like the idea of someone dying alone in front of me.”
“Do you remember what ya’ said when we first met?” The words slipped out softer than I expected.
You blinked, humming a bit before nodding.
“I do.” You said quietly. You turn your head to glance at the ceiling. “Been a long time. Must’ve been strange for you when I appeared out of the blue.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I shake my head, brows furrowed. “Normal people would have run.”
“Why ‘d ya have ta’ save me?”
“...” You were silent for a few minutes. You looked genuinely confused. “You were hurt.”
“You shouldn’t have stayed.”
“But I did anyway.”
“Coulda’ killed you.”
“Probably should have.” You shake your head as your voice grew softer snd my body went still from the possiblity. “But, you didn’t even after all that.”
What if I really did kill you? The thought lodged itself deep in my chest.
“You just looked like someone who’s just trying to make it in this world, just like the rest of us.”
Something in my throat tightened and I sat up, gritting my teeth.
“I ain't some goody two-shoes, pipsqueak. I’m wanted.” The words came out harsher than I meant to as I stared at my lap. “I’ve done things. Killed people. Just absolutely tainted to the core.”
“I know.” They didn’t even flinch.
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right, maybe I don’t know everything.” You sat up as well, placing a hand on top of mine, tracing some of the old scars I had.
“...But, I know the person who was at the park each night with me.”
“Apologized just because he held my hand.”
They smiled softly. “And, decided to make paper stars with me.”
“And I think that says enough.”
I bit my lip to keep it from trembling.
I don’t deserve you.
I really don’t.
But, you still stayed and you had no idea what it's done ta' me.
“I ain’t good for you…” I rasped out.
My eyes drifted to the jar of paper stars left on the table behind you. Hundreds of paper stars that were made by you. Hands that never had ta’ take a life.
Bloodied.
Scarred.
Restin’ beside you.
You don’t belong here.
And I don’t wanna have to bring you down with me and just end up getting hurt.
I chuckled humorlessly, finding this whole thing ridiculous.
Every sensible part of me knew I should've been telling you to leave.
To run.
To never look back.
I gave your hand one last squeeze before I flopped back onto the mattress, gently tugging you down with me until you landed against my chest causing you to let out a yelp. My arms wrapped around you before I could second-guess myself, resting on your waist firmly as you shifted up a little to look at me, blinking in surprise.
"...I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go, pipsqueak. I can be the little selfish bastard I am, gamblin’ with fate over here. You’re missin’ your chance to run." I looked at you with a tired smile, searchin’ your eyes. "Y'know that, right?
“Then, I guess I'll be stuck with you until I regret it.” You laughed softly, settling against my chest as you listened to my heartbeat, feeling it quicken as you said that that I thought it was going to burst. “But something tells me I’ll be spending a lifetime waiting for that day.”
And dammit, I was happy.
The whole story really didn’t make sense to anyone. But it did at least for us.
“Cup?” I blinked, snapping back to reality with the memories slowly fading away as I looked up to see you waving a hand in front of my face. “You’ve been somewhere else for a while. I was asking you if you wanted to join me making paper stars. Is something wrong?”
“Just remembering some stuff, pipsqueak.” I grabbed your hand, pressing a kiss on your knuckles before placing it on my cheek causing you to immediately flush.
A sight I’ll never get tired of seein’.
‘Adorable as ever…’
A reminder that I was lucky to be with someone who was warm.
TADC discourse making me realize how fandom spaces will argue to hell and back about lgbt rep, but the moment it's about black ppl, they're told to shut up and "if it matters to you, go change things in the real world! (instead of making us examine our racism and ruin our fun)"
like imagine for a second someone complaining about the stereotypes in trans rep and ppl in the comments going "omggg shut up, if it's so important go change anti-trans laws yourself" that's weird right???
(warning for SA/rape mentions and h*zbin h*tel, i dont usually post stuff like this but vivziepop genuinely pisses me the fuck off)
One of my MANY problems with hazbin hotel (and all of vivziepop's work in general) is how sexual assault is portrayed. On one hand, it's supposed to be taken seriously when Angel Dust is getting sexually exploited and raped, but on the other hand you're making the rapist seem like he's just an "uwu low braincell count dummy", hiring someone with a rape fetish to storyboard alot of scenes with the character that gets RAPED in them, and saying shit like "no consent no problem" as a JOKE. DO YOU SEE THE PROBLEM WITH ALL OF THIS.
