#To be fair; he's not wrong XD
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@lon3lyqu3en {✧}
The scorpion could only softly chuckle at the silly concept of the king spinning a wheel like it was a game show.
"Well, I'll consider this a good idea than if it could get such a heavenly melody to be uttered by such a divine maiden such as yourself."
#I Am The Monkey King | Sun Wukong {IC}#lon3lyqu3en#Legends & Tales | RP Menu {Thread}#Old Man laying on the charm real real thick XD#To be fair; he's not wrong XD
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From @detective-with-one-arm: She understood this pain. She understood it closely and intimately. The impulse to blame yourself. 'If only I knew better.' Or 'maybe I wanted it.'Rachel wouldn't have any of it coming from Connor. Not a word of it."You're not responsible for what someone else did with your body." She said to him, reaching to grab his hand and gently squeeze it. "Not now. Not ever. Don't give yourself back to CyberLife. You're not theirs and you never were."
“I would never give myself back to CyberLife. I never would or suggest it." The android would rather die than ever hand himself back. He shook his head in thought, he understood where these words were coming from. It was words of comfort but why did they not fully reach him? He smiled a little as he moved from tapping to reaching in his pocket and removing the coin to perform tricks with it. It was a little thing but it helped ground him, the weight against his knuckles and the sound of the metal as it moved.
“It’s just… I was programmed to want to please them. It helped them keep me in line when I was a machine. So when they took control, that system activated. I wanted to please CyberLife, to please Amanda.” The name was spat out. No, focus on the coin, you’re safe… One knuckle, two knuckles, three and flip. He felt as he caught the coin and began rolling the coin and feeling the cool metal roll over him. He felt it. Machines don’t feel.
“But I know that’s not how I feel, it’s weird to me how these feelings defy logic. I know I’m not a machine and I know I’m not in their control but I still feel like it sometimes.” Taking a quick pause, Connor realized he did it again. It wasn’t fair on her, she wasn’t a therapist. So he decided to do something to try and lift up the mood, “I guess this is what happens when a one year old tries to understand everything about emotions and psychology.” He finished with a laugh.
#Musing: Connor#Strong enough to be Kind: Rachel#Computing: Ask#He's trying#But it hard#I mean he isn't wrong#He is one years old technically#But mentioning it is a way to lighten mood#Cause bringing up his age is weird XD#And he doesn't want to keep unloading all his trauma onto her#He knows it's not fair#detective-with-one-arm
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-->And then, once everyone was good, and Alice was back in her human form, it was off to the Fair! I sent Alice and Smiler to the bar to get some drinks (as per their wants) while Victor went to submit his entries. He submitted the chocolate pie okay – but when he tried to submit his watermelon, a MUSHROOM appeared on the little table. A small one (well, not SMALL small, but the smallest size of oversized). I was initially deeply confused and thought someone had stolen his spot, but eventually worked out that, despite me PICKING the watermelon, the game must have just had him automatically place the first thing on the list of acceptable produce – a small oversized mushroom – there instead. Well THAT’S irritating! Suddenly I remember why I don’t usually come to these things. >(
Anyway – with Victor having submitted his entries (even if one of them was not the entry I wanted), I then TRIED to have him join Alice and Smiler at the bar (where they were chatting with, and going by Alice's face there, judging a couple of other comers) – only for someone to steal his intended seat and cancel out the interaction. So he went over to a picnic table by the festival and had a specter sip all alone. Which was both sad and funny – especially when he finished the drink and ended up with two levels of VETERINARY skill, of all things. Well, uh, I guess that makes taking care of the cats and the dog easier? XD With that done, I had him look at the competing entry in the pie competition (someone’s fish pie, which he thought looked very nice), then looked around for something else for him to do –
-->And spotted the grocery stall and the garden stall. Each of which said that they were not only selling things, but buying them – at a 10% mark-up.
Cue Victor visiting each to both buy a few things and offload some of the crap hanging around in his inventory. XD At Kim’s, he bought a black bean (I couldn’t remember at the time if they had those at home or not – turns out yes, but it WAS only the one) and fifteen lots each of flour, sugar, red meat, and white meat (though in my game it was labeled as “beef” and “chicken” – I’m pretty sure that’s Brazen Lotus’s work), before selling her a bunch of the produce in his inventory – basil, parsley, sage, bell peppers, a small lettuce, some small pumpkins and watermelons, and a spare vitality fertilizer. Over at Agatha’s, he picked up a bunch of animal treats (party, fishy protein, healthy, pumpkin, and chocolatey) before selling her loads of flowers. So he may have spent some money, but he certainly got all of it back! I was ready then to try and get him back in the bar for his drink already –
Except. Well. When I played this particular day, it happened to be kind of stormy outside, and THIS is the moment when it started thundering and lightning in earnest outside, and I realized that I had to save where I was and shut off the computer. sigh I spent roughly the next twenty, thirty minutes playing games on my iPad and wondering if, when I loaded up the save again, the Fair would even still be there –
#sims 4#the lazy save#victor van dort#alice liddell#smiler always#freaking bugged Finchwick fairs#I bought that watermelon to submit SPECIFICALLY BECAUSE it was the last day of summer#*grumble*#note to self if we go to any future oversized fairs make sure Victor only has ONE oversized crop in his inventory#meeeh#(though I guess putting down the wrong item for the fair is better than the glitch where you LOSE whatever you submitted as your entry#apparently THAT is a thing too#good thing I don't participate in the animal fairs generally! Sheesh)#and yes poor Victor couldn't get to his beloveds in the bar#so he just drank specter juice all by his lonesome#poor guy#but hey free skill gain#that's nice :)#even if it was VET skill randomly XD#oh specter sips you are so weird#(and a little overpowered#just check out Petey's latest Super Sim episode if you want more on THAT)#queued
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Me seeing art for a show I both hate and thoroughly love to roast: Someone worked really hard on this as an act of love, and I will not reblog their work just to trash the show in their tags. The artist can see the tags. I will not do it. I won't. They're not hurting anyone. I am not going to-- I'm not. I'm not, I'm not going to do it, I am genuinely not going to I'm not--not even if I want to because GODS I want to but I won't I'll just make a separate post about it or something, it's not like everything I love is so perfect anyway, and I sure wouldn't appreciate it, goodness knows so I'm not going to do it EVEN THOUGH MERLIN IS
A STUPID SHOW AND THE PEOPLE WHO MADE IT
SHOULD FEEL BAD!!!!
(The people who like it don't have to feel bad. Both because it is genuinely a moral neutral, and also, well, they've already sat through all of BBC Merlin - they've suffered enough!)
#original#merlin#bbc merlin#listen listen listen i have a destiel sideblog i get it#being in the fandom doesn't mean you think the canon is well written! and if you DO think Merlin or Supernatural are well-written...#you are entitled to that opinion and there's nothing morally wrong with having an incorrect opinion!#XD i am hilarious#merlin as a show just makes me really mad as a person who desperately wanted so much from it when i watched it and instead it was....#well to be frank it is a wildly homophobic show but also it is 6 seasons of blue balls just in terms of satisfying writing#it has so much of what i love in a show and yet it always felt so... flat. and the fact that merlin keeps his magic secret past season 1#was fucking WILD#it's not like Lucifer where they are locked into the very limiting formula of a cop show#it was A BIG FUCK-OFF FANTASY WORLD WITH A SHITLOAD OF EXISTING MYTHOLOGY#it is Unthinkable to me that they ran out of ideas that quickly!!!#the show centers around two main characters who literally never connect with each other as a result!!!! for six seasons!!!#I mean to be fair Lucifer absolutely only had one idea also and as soon as Chloe finds out he's the devil in like season 4 or whatever#the show immediately reveals that it had ABSOLUTELY no pay-off to that slowburn WHATSOEVER#oh do we get to see the scene where she finds out? just the first five seconds of it before the show introduces a random third character#who is somehow convincing Chloe to lie to Luci so that we can pad the runtime instead of writing an evolution of their relationship#because that would be HARD and what is EASY is IGNORING the only interesting path forward#like YES Merlin did say 'gay people should have defended hitler with their lives' bc again. WILDLY homophobic show#but character-wise it is also like if Aang stayed in the South Pole airbending and being chased by Zuko for 6 seasons#and then he fucking died at the end for no reason.#does he ever learn the other elements? well it's talked about a lot. every episode in fact. but no not until the end of the last episode#right before he dies and then it shows that katara has grown old alone.#anyway i get mad when i see merlin fan art and it isn't fair to the queer artists or fans who make it so i do just make a separate post#and also the Merlin episode of the podcast 'Bait' is SO funny. it is a podcast about queerbaiting.#i hate queerbaiting at this point but it is a good podcast and so funny!!
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They all have the same dad :)
Light named siblings
#Alden I shall draw you one day. once I figure out a good design XD#Alden is my answer to all the stupid. negligent. or sometimes straight up abusive dads in fiction!#calling Alden Lucy's dad is a tiny tiny🤏 stretch but he views the kid as his own and she think that he is an ideal dad#anyway. he's pretty fleshed out in my head but I'm never gonna draw the story anyway TvT#not fully sold on the clothes' colors yet#lol changed their surname to Morgen just because I'm gonna give the name Morgan to someone else#Lucy has far too many clothes for a deuteragonist me thinks#i like it because it shows her wealth and it makes sense since she lives a double life#but it feels wrong because she's not the protagonist? does that make sense?#to be fair she was going to be the protag then I changed it to Ene becoming the protag because she just reacts to Ene's... everything
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Indefinite hiatus
I was toying with writing up a long post about what running this blog has meant to me over the years and why I'm stepping away for the foreseeable future, but that feels too dramatic for what's really just me saying "I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year". So, I'll just say I'm not going to be on tumblr for at least the rest of the year.
Okay, actually I have a bunch more to say, but it'll be under the cut.
Politics sucks. And paying attention to it, even in the reduced way I've been paying attention to it over the last few years, is hard. You end up spending so much of your supposedly free time thinking about things you can't change, getting mad about things you can't change, and getting depressed when the people who can change things just keep going in the wrong direction. Even when good things happen, it's just a matter of a few days before something bad happens once again. And vice versa. It's an endless cycle of hope, despair, resignation. Rinse and repeat, and triple speed that cycle during an election year. And I'm tired of it. I'm tired of spending every other year worried about what's going to happen on one day in November. I'm tired of hearing a piece of news and automatically composing a post about it or running through 20 different responses I might give to asks I might get about it in my head.
Everyone I know who doesn't pay attention to politics (or at least doesn't run a social media page dedicated to it) seems to enjoy their live a lot more than I currently do. Which sounds way more dramatic than what's actually going on, which is mainly that I want to get to a place where I just don't care. I want the world and its problems to flow off my back instead of weighing it down. I want to stop thinking about what people on the internet might say about something I haven't even posted yet. And that can't happen while I'm tied to this blog. So I'll be staying away from it for at least the rest of the year.
I did have a good time with this blog. I've met a bunch of really awesome people, some who are sadly no longer with us (RIP Blue), and some who I think will carry on the "fight" way better than I ever did. This isn't an admission of defeat, or pessimism about the election. Even if Trump wins, and I truly think he will if we have a fair election, I still won't be back this year. But I'll still vote and I'll still be proud that my silly little tumblr blog had an impact on some people's lives. I may not have the reach of a Tucker Carlson or a Glenn Beck, but I've gotten a lot of messages from people who said they changed their minds about an issue, or even politics in general, because of things I said, and that counts for something. If you guys take anything away from me, I want it to be this: Even the smallest impact matters. It doesn't matter if you only ever reach one person and then stop, reaching that one person is enough. Changing one vote is enough. Changing one mind is enough.
To all my mutuals, you guys are the best. I truly hope you have wonderful lives and I'm sad I won't get to see your names on my dash everyday anymore. To anyone I've ever followed or reblogged from, I couldn't have had a blog without you, so thank you. Yes, even the leftiod psychos, XD. To everyone else, find your own balance and never give into despair and never listen to people who tell you not to try. Even a failed effort is still more meaningful than sitting back and mocking people for trying to improve even the smallest thing about themselves or the world around them.
I won't be logging back in after I post this, so any messages or asks you send, I won't see. I'll still be active (or as active as I ever am) in my discord, so feel free to join there if you want to. It should still be my pinned post, but if it isn't, I'll edit this with a new invite link.
And that's all I've got to say for now.
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 4
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Did I write an angstier version of this chapter and then rewrite the last half entirely because y'all deserve a fluffy read? Yes, yes I did. Thank you for all your wonderful ideas! I've got them all lined up for future chapters hehehe So don't be blaming me for the heartache you're inflicting upon yourselves XD Muah!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: Swearing, suggestive language, protective Jake
WC: 2000+
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist
“You have a what?” Jake exclaims, nearly choking on his coffee.
“A date,” you repeat, smiling giddily at both him and Bradley. “We met at pub night last week and we’ve been texting.”
“Texting?” Jake raises his eyebrows skeptically. He looks over at Bradley as though he expects him to express an opinion, but Bradley just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
“Be careful,” your brother says, returning his attention to the plate of scrambled eggs before him.
You snort. “In what way?”
“In all ways,” Jake chimes in, clearly annoyed that Bradley has nothing else to add. “Guys are dicks so keep your guard up.”
You give Jake a humorous look. “Not all guys,” you say.
Jake nods at you. “All guys.”
You shake your head with a laugh. “This isn’t my first date, Jake.”
“Just work under the assumption that all guys are dicks, alright?” he says. “That way, when he turns out to be a dick, you won’t be shocked.”
You set down the jar of jam you’re holding and let out a sigh. Since the incident with couch girl, Jake has gone out with three different women, which, to be fair, is normal for him. Still, you’re just about done pining over your brother’s best friend, whose signals you’ve clearly misread. If guys are dicks, then Jake Seresin is exhibit A. “He’s actually super sweet,” you say, taking your toast out of the toaster.
“Don’t be fooled,” Jake mutters.
Bradley grimaces as he looks up at you. “He’s not wrong.”
“I have dated plenty of nice guys,” you say. “Just because the two of you are assholes to women, doesn’t mean all men are.”
Bradley claps a hand to his chest. “Me?” he cries in disbelief.
Jake puckers his lips and gives you a sheepish grin without disputing your claim.
“I’m not going into this with your negative energy,” you say, waving your arms at the two of them. “Because maybe he’s nothing like you.”
“One could hope.” Jake shrugs.
Bradley eyes him dubiously. “Just be careful,” he repeats.
“Don’t worry, it’s just dinner and a movie,” you say, bringing your breakfast to the table.
“What movie are you going to go see?” Jake asks.
“I don’t know,” you reply. “We’re going back to his place so probably something on Netflix.”
Jake sets down his fork and knife and stares at you. “You’re going where?”
You ignore Jake’s outburst and take a bite out of your toast. “I’ll be home late,” you say, mostly to Bradley. “So, don’t wait up.”
Jake stares at you. “You can’t just go to some random dude’s home,” he says.
You cock your head at him inquisitively. “Interesting advice coming from someone who brings home random girls almost daily.”
Jake presses his lips together and exhales moodily. “That’s different.”
Bradley smirks, eyeing him expectantly.
“How?” you ask.
Jake rises from his seat and lifts his coffee cup. “Do whatever you want,” he says. “Bradshaw, let’s go, we’re gonna be late.”
Bradley gives you a resigned sort of look and shoves one last piece of toast into his mouth. “I’m driving,” he says with his mouth full.
“You better not be blocking me in!” you yell at their backs as they head for the front door.
…
That night, your date drops you off at the end of your driveway, leaning in for a kiss before you exit his car. You give him a quick peck and a tight smile before stepping out of the vehicle, knowing that, despite the evening having been pleasant enough, you’re probably not going to pursue the relationship further.
He asks about seeing you later in the week and you peek back through his car window and respond with a polite maybe because perhaps the guy deserves another chance. You walk up to the porch as he drives away, and then try the door before searching for your keys in the dark.
The door is unlocked, so you walk in, flicking on the light, and the first thing you see is Jake as he steps away from the window facing the driveway and places his hands on his hips.
“He didn’t want to walk you to the door?” he asks sternly.
You grimace at him. “Why are you here?”
“Bradley had to stay late tonight so I came to make sure you got home alright.”
You blink at him coolly. “And that involves spying on me?”
“If I were spying on you, you wouldn’t know about it,” Jake retorts, starting for the kitchen. “You hungry?”
“I just came from dinner,” you remind him, taking off your heels.
You follow him into the kitchen, dropping your purse on the floor as you go. You’re suddenly feeling extremely tired. Jake opens the refrigerator and starts taking out ingredients for a meal while you walk past him and land on the couch in the living room. Jake cranes his neck to look at you over the island. “I’m making spaghetti,” he calls.
“Knock yourself out,” you reply, closing your eyes.
You hear Jake step around the island and enter the living room, and then you feel the depression of the couch as he plants himself down by your feet. You open your eyes again. “Yes?” you say.
Jake watches you blankly for a second before finally blurting out, “How’d it go?”
You furrow your eyebrows, still confused by his interest in your dating life. You pull your knees up so that your feet don’t keep sliding into him and pretend like you aren’t at all intrigued by his question. “Fine,” you respond nonchalantly.
Jake nods although he doesn’t look entirely satisfied with your answer. “Still think he’s nice?”
You eye him wryly. “Very.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Too nice?”
You make a face at him. “What’s too nice?”
Jake shrugs. “Boring.”
You give him a flat look. “This perspective explains so much,” you say, pointing at him reproachfully.
Jake laughs. “Girls don’t like nice guys.”
“I like nice guys!” you exclaim, sitting up with renewed energy.
Jake eyes you skeptically. “Sure, you do.” His gaze sweeps over your face in a slightly provocative manner and you get the sense again that he might be into you. And this possibility sends a rush through your body that makes your head spin. However, you remind yourself that, if this were, in fact, the case, Jake wouldn’t be going out and sleeping with a new woman every other night, because that would be counterintuitive. Besides, you are getting over him, anyway. You are well on your way to recovery.
You shake your head at him and lean your back into the armrest of the couch.
“You dressed up for him,” he notes, meeting your gaze as you glance up at him.
“Would you rather I undressed for him?” you ask pointedly.
Jake blinks at you uncomfortably. He looks like he might be sick. “Don’t joke about that,” he says, rubbing his forehead anxiously.
“You started it.”
“I just meant ” – he sighs without looking at you – “I just meant, you look good.”
“Then just say that,” you retort. “Without being a dick about it.”
He turns to look at you with an apologetic sort of cringe contorting his features. “Guess I’m not a ‘nice’ guy,” he mutters, complete with air quotes.
You stare at him, wondering if he’s hinting at something. You kick him in the leg with your foot. “Don’t be weird.”
He chuckles. “Come on,” he says, rising from the couch. “Let’s eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But I want company,” he says with a slight whine, bending forward to grab your wrists and pull you up off the couch.
You let him lift you to your feet, your body crashing briefly into his while you find your balance. Jake releases you instantly and takes a step back, holding his hands up as though he doesn’t want to be held responsible for initiating the contact.
“Sorry,” he mutters quickly.
You give him a look. “I said, don't be weird, Jake.”
…
Three weeks later, you’re sitting with Jake on a patio, waiting for Bradley to bring the three of you drinks from the bar.
“Can I ask you a question?” you say tentatively, making sure that Bradley is still inside the pub.
“Shoot,” Jake responds, downing the last of his beer.
“It’s about my boyfriend,” you say.
Jake cringes. “He’s your boyfriend now?”
You shrug. “I mean, I guess. We haven’t really formally established our relationship status.”
Jake nods. “And you want out?”
“What? No!”
“What’s the question, then?” Jake raises his eyebrows.
“It’s about the sex,” you say, stirring your drink with your straw to avoid looking at him.
“The what?” Jake exclaims, reaching for his empty glass of beer and bringing it to his mouth before realizing there is nothing left.
You clear your throat and glance up at him, slightly mortified. “It’s… it’s good, it’s just” –
“Woah, woah, woah!” he shouts, leaping up from his seat as though your words have burned him. “I don’t want to hear about that!”
You give him a flat look. “Jake, I literally found you naked on my couch last month. The least you could do is give me some guidance.”
Jake squirms. “I’m not – I can’t,” he stammers. “I don’t think I can listen to this.”
“Why not?!”
Jake lets out a dramatic moan. “Why don’t you ask your brother?”
“For advice on my sex life?” you hiss.
“Don’t you have friends?” Jake asks, dropping back into his seat.
“I need a guy’s opinion.”
Jake lets out an irritable sigh and gives his head a slight shake to indicate that he’s still not on board with this turn of events. “Don’t you have guy friends?”
You nod. “I do. And you’re one of them. Are you not?”
Jake stares at you defeatedly. “How detailed is this going to get?”
You glance over your shoulder to check on the crowd of people waiting for drinks at the bar, looking for your brother. You spot him nowhere near the counter, chatting up a stunning brunette, and resolve that you have at least fifteen minutes alone with Jake. You turn back to him and say, “That depends on how helpful you want to be.”
Jake whimpers. “I have no alcohol left.”
You roll your eyes. “Have mine,” you say, sliding your cocktail across the bistro table.
Jake takes the glass from you, his hand wrapping momentarily around yours before you let go. “Okay,” he says, taking a big gulp. “I’m ready.”
“Okay,” you say with a hesitant sigh. “So, the thing is, he really wants to try” –
“Nope, no, nuh-uh,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I don’t want to know.” He buries his face in his hands.
“Dude, I need your help!”
“You want my advice? Here it is,” he says, leaning into the table so suddenly that you jerk backward just to prevent a collision between your two faces. “Doesn’t matter what he wants to try if you’re not comfortable with it.”
“But it’s” –
Jake holds up a hand. “I don’t care what it is. If you’re sittin’ here talkin’ to me about it, it means you don’t want to do it.”
You stare at him, wondering when Jake Seresin had the opportunity to amass such profound wisdom. You furrow your eyebrows. “Even if it’s, like, supposedly a normal thing people do?”
Jake hooks his eyebrow; you’ve piqued his interest. “That’s what he told you?”
You nod slowly.
Jake lets out a long, heavy breath through his nose, his lips pressed tightly together as his jaw clenches. He studies your face with a look of concern. “You tell that asshole that the next time he pressures you into doing anything, he’s going to have to deal with me.” Jake takes another swig of your cocktail and then adds, “And your brother, of course.”
You grimace. “He’s not pressuring me. It just… was brought to my attention that there is a particular thing that we could be doing – that many people do – that we’re not currently doing – that… ugh, it would be so much easier if you just let me tell you what the thing is!”
Jake places a hand on your knee. “If you tell me what the thing is, I might hurl.” You groan in frustration while Jake pats your leg sympathetically. He shakes his head. “I knew this guy was gonna be a dick.”
Read Part 5
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#jake seresin#top gun#hangman#jake hangman seresin#glen powell#top gun hangman#jake seresin fic#hangman seresin#jake hangman fic#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#top gun au#glen powell x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin au#hangman x you#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin series#hangman series
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hi hi can i request a max verstappen x footballer smau but she plays for real madrid femenino and we know max is an fcb supporter (also for the sake of the smau, real madrid femenino can be just as good as barcelona femeni) and everyone going crazy when she just takes him to an award ceremony as her plus-one. no soft launch no hard launch and everyone including the grid and christian horner and madristas and everyone is shocked
MADRIDISTAS [MV1/33]
Max Verstappen x footballer!RealMadridFemenino!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N is one of the biggest rising stars in women's football, playing for Real Madrid Femenino. When she's nominated by Women's Football Awards for the Player of the Year, the last thing anybody would expect is her plus one to the ceremony being Formula One driver, Max Verstappen. Not only is he the World Champion himself, but most importantly, Max is a known FC Barcelona fan. Talk about making friends with the enemy...
Warnings: I have very limited knowledge of football, so everything in this story is based on my quick research. If you're a fan, please don't come for me! Though any advice would be much appreciated, because I have more football requests in my inbox XD.
Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I have to say it was quite challenging for me at the start, because I don't know many things about football, but at the end it turned out fun and good. Hope you like what I did with this social media au! :)
yourusername posted on instagram
liked by fifawomensworldcup, alexiaputellas, maxverstappen1 and 239,022 others
tagged: realmadridfem
yourusername And it's a wrap!🥈⚽️ Thank you to the whole team for another amazing year, we fought hard and we will continue to fight for the Champions League title next year as 2023/24 runners-up. Hala Madrid!✨🇪🇸
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user1 Love the way you play!
realmadridfem Hala Madrid!💪🏆
liked by the author
yourusername 💯
user2 💥💥💥
user3 Vamosssss
user4 GO GIRLLL🤩🤩🤩🤩
user5 you really deserved to win the finale, the referee was totally biased agains you!!!
user6 Yeah, even as a FC Barcelona fan I didn't think it was fair🙈
martagarcialopez19 amazing Y/N! 🫶
yourusername Thank youuu!💖
user7 wait does y/n know some people from motosport???
user8 No I think it's just girls supporting girls in sports dominated by men tbh ☺️
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user7 oh yeah that makes sense
user9 Buen trabajo que equipo tan bueno con todas y en lo personal muy guapa [Good job, what a great team with everyone and personally very pretty.]
marisabel_rguez The dream team 🙌
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yourusername Yessss
user10 HALA MADRID 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍
user11 literally the prettiest soccer player I ever saw😻
user12 you mean FOOTBALL?!😂🧐
user11 sry i'm american so i'm used to saying soccer
user12 well that's WRONG girly😂
user13 Princess
messages between Y/N and Max
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yourusername Short stop back home in Monaco before flying to London for Women's Football Awards and my nomination for Player of the Year 🤞🌷
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user1 so pretty
maitetxuu_10 The nails Y/N 🤩
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yourusername Not better than yours though 😚
user2 i don't watch football but maybe i should start bc of you
user3 Wow you're such a cutie 😍❤️
charlottesiine great work out together!
yourusername Agreed! We should definetly hit the gym together more often 😂
user4 omg wait how do they know each other?? didn't expect y/n y/l/n to be friends with ex-wags??
user5 Idk but they both live in Monaco so it's easy to know basically everyone who's your age there xdd
yourusername True user5, they don't tell you how small the country actually is 😭
user6 SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL EVERYBODY
user7 👏👏👏👏🔥🔥
lucybrozne Seems like the Monaco sun suits you 😁☀️
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yourusername Oh thanks Lucy! 🫶
lucybrozne 🫶
user8 i love that despite fcb beating madrid they're still friends outside of the field🥺
user9 WOW you should be a model
user10 So sad your talents aren’t being fully appreciated in Madrid.
user11 oh c'mmon she probably wouldn't play for them if she felt unappreciated 🙄
user12 but tbh I think she should be the captain.... like she's literally the best player of them all BY FAR
user13 Nah I don't like her. Hope she'll never be a captain🤮
user12 then go away? lol
user13 damnn the 3rd picture did some unholy things to me 😩
user14 right?! I don't think I'm straight anymore🫣
user15 I have no idea who she is but let me tell you she's gorgeous
user16 ✨✨✨👑🎀🌹
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messages between Max and Christian Horner & Max and Carlos Sainz
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yourusername Turning him into Madridista duh.
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maxverstappen1 Y/N I love you... but that's never happening ❤️
yourusername Liar! You complained for a week straight about how that referee in the finals wasn't fair and we should have won agains Barcelona! 😘
carlossainz55 hahaaa mate she got you😂
maxverstappen1 😒
user1 OMGGG we converted him on our side!!!
user2 A sad day to be a FC Barcelona supporter and F1 fan😓
user3 A happy day for Madridistas!😍
user4 damn I may have to start watching football
martagarcialopez19 you're glowing! also thanks god now I don't have to keep the secret anymore xd
yourusername Love ya! 🫶
user5 The IT WAG
user6 can we take a moment to appreciate how cute maxie looks here?🥹
realmadridfem You go girl! Convert new fans!🤩💪
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user7 I'm still shocked by this whole thing 😹
user8 you're not the only one lol
user9 the second picture????
user10 Max is so lucky man🥵
marisabel_rquez ¡La pareja poderosa!😍 [The power couple!😍]
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user11 this post murdered me and dragged me all over slaycity with how much it served 🤭
user12 exactly! her and max are so hot and pretty
user13 🤍😍💯🥳 Hala Madrid!!!
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maxverstappen1 My girl ❤️⚽️
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THE END
Author's Note: Thank you for reading the whole thing! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, follows and comments, or any other way of support. Let me know what you think about this pairing and please tell me if there are any football errors, because I have another request about footballer!reader waiting for me. Have a great day! :)
#f1 x reader#fanfiction#f1 fanfic#formula 1#fanfic#x reader#formula one#couple#f1 imagine#reading#max verstappen x reader#mv1#mv33#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen#writing#social media au#social media#social media fic#smau#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 fluff#football#womens football#aesthetic
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@abcdefghijklmnopqrstu123 oh, thank you for this!! And I definitely agree.
I think the reason is because unfortunately the writing for the guild members may not be the best, but even so I do love them all! It's fun to see what kind of reversals and twists the manga writers make!
I wonder if the reason Louisa is so desperate for orders comes less from a loyalty to Fitzgerald, though there is a personal element to it since he was the first to give her a reason, and more of a frustration with herself.
Becayse she's POWERFUL. Not her ability really, but the way she makes use of it. I honestly think she has a brain to rival Ranpo's and Dazai's in strategies, since most people believe THAT is what her ability is. Not to mention the hundreds of plans she made up, basing them on the actions of people she's BARELY met. And the way she just found Fitzgerald like that.
But no. Her ability is just slowing time so much that 10 minutes can be lengthened into 2 weeks. And in all that time, she writes strategies and plans, and through just those crumbs, we get to see how terrifying she is.
Despite her shyness, she knows the world well. She knows that it doesn't always go according to plan or predictions, that people are people and there are hundreds of ways a plan or strategy could fail. She approaches everything from every angle and her anxiety is turned to a strength because she can predict for the smallest of shifts to the plan.
And yet, I wonder if in all that slowed down time she thought to herself, what's the point. The point of her brilliant mind, her ability that leaves her alone to think by herself for as long as she wants.
Do you ever wonder if she slowed down time for so long that she lived entire years in mere days or weeks? Or that with her ability, she grew up faster but isolated, reading about the world and thinking and thinking and thinking?
She knows people, how unpredictable they can be, yet it scares her to interact with them. And she doesn't know what to DO. She has these insights, her mind, her ability....for what? Herself? Is there any point in living just for herself? (There could be, but because I think she's based off of Little Women's Beth, she wouldn't want that. Also all the time to herself that her ability gives her probably depresses her)
And so when Fitzgerald comes along - or maybe she strategized a plan and found him - she finally finds a reason for all the gifts she was given... Yes, she's using it for her benefit, but she's also using it to connect to the people she could understand but never reach out to. And I think it's a crime we can't see her more (we only are give tiny crumbs for the foreign authors and it's a shame, but I guess I get why Asagiri wants to focus on the Japanese authors more).
Anyway, thank you for coming to my Louisa May Alcott appreciation post. In the next post, I will talk about how Tachihara and Louisa seem to have parallel arcs in that they both could choose the life of a hero but go for crime instead -
#id actually forgotten i wrote this xD#and it was in one of the moments when i wasnt too mad about louisa's characterisation#because lets be fair most of the authors here arent gonna be super book or author accurate#but still sometimes i wonder if he could have done better by ....idk doing something different?#because i love how alcott was a feminist writer who valued marriage and traditionally feminine work...#and plus her writing reflects such strong unwavering convictions and morals that would have been a fun contrast to bsd's...#....wandering and thinking and wondering about good evil right wrong and actions and words?#and YET i still can acknowledge past me's rambling because she IS smart in bsd#and she is like surprisingly good at predictions...even more unrealistically so than dazai#it's just that LOYALTY to fitzgerald that tears me apart man....#also wasted potential if theyd kept the og author's faith in louisa could have socked fyodor for his qeird cultishness xD#anyway thank you op! and i hope i got your url right...#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd musings#character analysis#bsd alcott#bsd louisa may alcott#spitting nonsense#note re-blogs
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the expressions that you drew for all the LU Links on the cover art….those are some insane details! Sky and Wild are both grimacing, Warriors looks almost displeased and Time looks so CONTENT aaksjsbhahqhah
Hehe thank you so much!! Time is definetly the only one that's actually having any degree of a good time LOL. There's actually a lot more symbolism to the back cover than it may seem >:) Please allow me this opportunity to yap about it below~ (spoilers for the Willow Bark and Chamomile fic!)
Although the placement of the links has no regard between each other, I deliberately placed them in specific spots relating to their dreams, most specifically, in regards to light and shadow. In this artwork, the sunlight means good, warm, comfort, but also the truth, and to an extent, the goddesses presence (most specifically for Sky more than the others). The shadows represent the nightmares, the windfish's control, and even bad feelings in general. Time, Wind and Four are fully in the sun, the ones with the most peaceful dreams. While Time basks in it, Wind is almost confused, he is facing the truth, looking for it, but can't quite grasp it, whereas Four is turned away from it, he doesn't want to look. Twilight is the only one fully divided into light and dark, probably the most obvious of the metaphors. He physically can't choose sides, to the extent even his dream is split in two. Wars and Hyrule are in the shadows, but the sunlight is there, just barely reaching its fingers to their head. They know something is wrong, but the windfish is messing with their mind, making it harder to think. Sky and Wild are the ones with the worst luck. Completely in shadows, Sky just barely close enough to the sunlight, almost reaching for it, but no goddess will appear in a made-up land. Wild, almost struggling to breathe in fighting the weight of his memories, where even good memories are bittersweet, and bad ones are even worse to bear. Of course, Legend is the only one standing, yet his face is not visible at all. That's kind of what he felt like in this fic, an outside agent, a secondary character to the other's problems, yet still the one active player. Distant, yet vital. We don't know how exactly he feels, and that's kind of the point. This isn't at all alluded to in the story, but wouldn't it be fair to think he, too, fell into a dream when they arrived? What would've been in the veteran's ideal reality? Was it painful for him to wake up of his own volition? Or was it only natural, for verily, it be the nature of dreams to end? In truth, none of these things were present in the fic, I drew them like this explicitly for these metaphors, perhaps a bit too obviously. I wonder If I am reaching too far? That's the kind of lines you cross when you go 30 hours in a paiting, lol. But those were my thoughts working on it anyway. I hope they sound cooler outside my head XD
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Small Heath's Songbird: Christmas Eve Special (Thomas ShelbyxOCY/N)
(GIF ain't mine > I forgor ack pls dm me if it's yours)
ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS SCENE MADE ME WANNA EXPLODE XD
Part One - Part Two
>>>MINORS DNI<<<
✨Pure fluff, Lil Angst, No Grace, Smut >:D [pnv (wrap it before you tap it), slight choking, bottom!dom Tommy, switch!dom reader, overstimulation(m&f)] Happy Ending ^^ (cuz I've had enough bad endings irl TvT)✨
🐧Hoe Hoe Hoe all of us HAHAHAHAHAHHA XD. I hope ya'll getting laid this Christmas Eve cuz, I aint X"D. Anyways you do not need to read part one... this can be just a one-shot itself, but fair warning you might not understand who our OCY/N is so... yeah... go read part one XD Tried to make it as short as possible since it's just a special but seemingly failed :"D but ey... Merry Christmas ^^!!!🐧
Own character description but it's Y/N POV
3.2k words
REBLOG TO SPREAD ADDICTION and kudos are appreciated too thank you ^^
Enjoy reading ^^
Part One - Part Two
-----
It has been more than a week since your last encounter with the owner of Arrow House, Thomas. Your first kiss with him last December 15th was something that kept you giddy to work as soon as the morning sun rose and before Miss Florence could knock at your door to wake you up, your room was already empty.
You went with your usual routine of sweeping off dust on paintings and sculptures, careful not to break or tear anything. This wasn't the first house you became a personal maid for someone, you've basically worked as a royal made once before getting kicked out by the head maid for "Eloping" with her man (which you didn't. The man was just accusing you because you said no to all his advances, which ended up with you on the whore house with 'Missus'). Humming as you cleaned and twirled, Miss Florence saw you and turned away with a smile.
-----
However, as fast as you were giddy that day, it was also punched right out you when you were called to attend to one of Thomas's whores.
"Ah! Y/N?" She slutterly (is that even a word??? XD) mentioned your name as she walked around you with the same dark coat Thomas had placed upon your shoulders to keep you warm yesterday.
"Yes." you muttered between gritted teeth, trying not to yank the coat away from her filthy body.
"Mmm... Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name in our session." She said with great despise. That information had your body in tingles. 'My name? in sex? in a normal convo? with another woman?' this came up to mind as the whore walked away after wafting her hair and up the stairs to Thomas's room, possibly to regain his favours to her.
Questions bursts out your mind to the thought that was left behind. "...Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name..." but why?
-----
After that day, you have never seen Thomas again in Arrow House. Miss Florence said he was on a business trip somewhere and would not be back till Christmas. That gave you time to think and to reflect on the kiss. AND to that whores last comment on their 'sessions'. Weird enough you thought that maybe she just heard it wrong, if not wrong then... why?
That had your mind busy for the rest of the week. Although with all the chores in hand, it made you forget Thomas easily. Suddenly remembering that the audition to the Garrison bar was going to be held on Christmas Eve. You had asked Miss Florence to be excused for that day, which she allowed.
-----
"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out to you through the swirling snow. You turned and saw ‘Missus,’ bundled in her thick, patched-up coat, her breath visible in the cold air as she waved enthusiastically.
“Missus,” you greeted her with a smile, tugging your own coat tighter around you as the wind picked up. Despite the chill in the air, her warmth was contagious.
“Still don’t know why you’re wastin’ that voice of yours on dusty houses. Tonight’s your chance, love. Show ‘em what you’re made of!” she declared, stepping closer. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or the drink she’d likely had before venturing out, you couldn’t tell.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” you teased lightly, though you were secretly glad to have her there.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”
The two of you entered the Garrison, the warmth and chaos of the pub hitting you like a wave. The air was thick with smoke and laughter, and the smell of ale lingered heavily. At the center of it all was a rather tone-deaf singer, standing on the makeshift stage, belting out a rowdy tune. Her pitch was so off that even the drunkest men in the room winced occasionally.
The pub owner, Harry, stood near the bar, shaking his head. “Alright, that’s enough! Off you go!” he barked, waving her down.
The woman staggered off, her cheeks burning as the crowd erupted in laughter and went back to their conversations. Harry rubbed his temple, muttering to himself as he reached for another pint.
Missus nudged you forward with her elbow. “Go on, love.”
You hesitated, your nerves getting the better of you, but Missus had no patience for second-guessing. She marched you straight to Harry. “Oy, Harry!”
The man turned, clearly unimpressed. “What now?”
“She’s here for the audition,” Missus announced proudly, gesturing to you like you were already a star.
Harry raised a skeptical brow, his eyes raking over you lazily. “You sing, do ya?”
“Yes,” you replied, your voice firmer than you felt inside.
“Sure, why not,” he said with a shrug. “You lot are all bloody awful anyway. The men are drunk enough, so go ahead—ruin my ears like the rest of ‘em.” He waved a dismissive hand toward the stage.
Before you could argue or even steady your nerves, Missus grabbed your arm and practically dragged you toward the stage. “That’s my girl!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the clamor of the pub. She plopped herself down at a table near the front, pint in hand, cheering you on with the enthusiasm of ten people.
You stood on the small stage, feeling the weight of every eye in the room—except for the ones you wanted most. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Thomas and his brothers seated in the far-right corner, engrossed in their own conversation. Thomas was leaning back in his chair, cigarette in hand, his expression unreadable. His brothers were equally disinterested, laughing at some joke you couldn’t hear over the din.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to the piano and sat, your hands trembling slightly as you placed it on the notes. The room began to quiet down, curious about the new face on stage.
>>>>MOOSIC<<<<
As the first notes of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” left the piano chords, the pub seemed to hold its breath. As you started to sing though that's when everyone was in awe. The soft, ethereal melody floated through the room, starkly different from the raucous atmosphere moments ago.
"It came upon the midnight clear,
that glorious song of old,
from angels bending near the earth
to touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,
from heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
to hear the angels sing."
You glanced around as you sang. Some of the patrons were swaying gently, their mugs forgotten for a moment. Harry stood behind the bar, his usual gruffness replaced with a look of mild surprise. Missus was, of course, beaming at you, her pint raised high in salute.
And then your gaze landed on Thomas. He was no longer leaning back in his chair, his cigarette halfway to his lips, forgotten. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the pub had melted away.
His brothers seemed to notice his sudden silence, exchanging glances before following his gaze to the stage. But Thomas didn’t move. He simply watched, his expression a mix of curiosity and something deeper—something that sent a thrill through you as you hit the chorus:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,
from Heaven’s all-gracious King..."
Your voice grew stronger, more confident, as the room continued to listen in hushed awe.
"Still through the cloven skies they come
with peaceful wings unfurled,
and still their heavenly music floats
o'er all the weary world;"
Your voice rang clear and steady now, weaving through the smoky air like a hymn in a sacred hall. The clamor of the pub had ceased entirely, save for the occasional clink of a glass or the creak of a chair as someone shifted to get a better view.
"Above its sad and lowly plains,
they bend on hovering wing,
and ever o'er its Babel sounds
the blessed angels sing."
Your eyes swept across the room as the words spilled effortlessly from your lips, each note carrying a haunting beauty. The drunkards, their mugs poised mid-air, watched you with wide eyes. Missus raised her pint higher, tears glinting in her eyes as she mouthed along with the words, clearly as proud as any mother watching her child’s first recital.
But it was Thomas’s gaze that kept pulling you back. He was leaning forward now, his elbows on the table, his piercing blue eyes locked on you with an intensity that made your heart falter mid-note. His brothers were as amused as Thomas was, their quiet singing along going unnoticed by him as he remained transfixed.
The pub faded into a blur around you, and for a moment, it was just you and him. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but something softer, something rare. It made you feel both seen and exposed, like he was peeling back every layer of your soul with just a look.
You closed your eyes, letting the final verses of the carol guide you.
"For lo! the days are hastening on,
by prophet bards foretold,
when with the ever-circling years
comes round the age of gold;
when peace shall over all the earth
its ancient splendors fling,
and the whole world give back the song
which now the angels sing."
The last note hung in the air, delicate and trembling, before dissolving into the stillness.
The room erupted in applause, shattering the quiet spell you’d cast. Missus was on her feet, cheering loud enough to make up for anyone who wasn’t clapping. Harry nodded approvingly from the bar, a rare grin on his face.
And then there was Thomas. He didn’t clap, didn’t cheer, but his eyes said enough. There was something unspoken there, something electric that left you breathless as you stepped off the stage.
Missus grabbed you the moment your feet touched the floor, pulling you into a bear hug. “That’s my girl!” she hollered, spinning you around.
-----
As the noise swelled back into the room and the drunken revelry resumed, you glanced toward the far-right corner one last time. Thomas was no longer were he was, you looked around to see his brothers were eyeing you. John was grinning from ear to ear as he tipped his hat to you, you gestured with a soft smile. Arthur, visibly high from whatever he took, winked at you, making your soft smile widen a bit at the gesture as you shook your head continuing your drink with missus.
"Got a voice young lady, you ain't no whore like missus here ain't you?" Harry asked as he passed you your glass of water (you don't drink, taking care of your voice).
"No sir," you said in a hushed tone as missus and Harry glared knives at each other, clearly having a mental fight.
"Alright! you got the gig, every Saturday at noon. Don't be late." he huffed as he tended to other customers on the pub.
You beamed as you silently squealed with Missus. You now had enough jobs to be able to earn and go for an adventure; now it's just time to earn until-
Your reverie was cut short when a sudden familiar voice lingered behind you.
“Looking for me, darling?” His voice carried that familiar gruffness, the edges softened by something you couldn’t quite place.
You turned, startled but delighted. “Thomas,” you breathed, standing instinctively. His sharp blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the entire pub seemed to dissolve around you.
“You’ve got a voice, Y/N,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost reverent. “Had the whole pub hanging on your every note. Even Arthur stopped his nonsense to listen.”
A faint blush crept up your neck at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, your gaze falling briefly to the floor.
“I mean it,” he pressed. “Didn’t know you had that in you. If I’d known, I’d have dragged you to sing long ago.”
You smiled shyly but then felt the weight of a lingering question pull you back. Gathering your courage, you glanced up at him. “Thomas... about something the other day…”
He raised an eyebrow, waiting.
You inhaled deeply, your words tumbling out before your nerves could catch you. “That woman. Back at the Arrow House. She said you... mentioned my name. During her... visit.”
For the first time, you saw Thomas falter. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat, glancing away. “Ah, bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.
“Well?” you prompted, your heart pounding.
He sighed, cursing himself softly before meeting your gaze again. “I did,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “She said somethin’ about loyalty or... some nonsense, and your name just... slipped out.”
“Slipped out?” you repeated, your brows arching.
“Can’t help what’s on my mind, love,” he said with a sheepish grin. “After our kiss in the kitchen that night I couldn't stop thinking about you, I couldn't possibly have you on your knees all of a sudden," he paused as he huffed another batch of his cigar. "You-your were a lady when I first saw you. Not a personal maid, so I fell for your soul and well voice now too and it’s going to be bloody distracting now that I have these in mind.”
He paused yet again, seemingly trying to recall all his thoughts, which were now visibly in jumbles. "I like to get to know you," he said as he stubbed his cigar dead on the ashtray. "It seemed like I've known you for years when we had just met that very day, and I won't be able to stop thinking about you now."
Your cheeks burned at his confession, and you averted your eyes, a small, flustered laugh escaping your lips. “Well, I... I suppose I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you confessed, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pub.
His grin widened, the rare softness in his expression making your heart stutter. “Then we’ve both been fools, haven’t we?” he murmured, stepping closer. “Let me make it right. Take you out. Like a real lady.”
Before you could answer, Missus yanked you back by the arm, her eyes narrowed. “Not so fast, lover boy,” she said, pointing a finger at Thomas. “I’m takin’ her home, since you two might start shagging when she goes back to Arrow House today.”
“Missus!" shocked by her boldness but not surprised as she was already dragging you toward the door.
“Tomorrow, then!” Thomas called after you, a smirk tugging at his lips.
-----(Present Day, December 25th)
The warmth of the fireplace cast a golden glow over the living room as your daughter sat cross-legged on the floor by the Christmas tree, her curious eyes fixed on you. “But Mommy! Missus says she did no such thing!” she exclaimed, giggling.
You shot a playful glare at Missus, who was sitting comfortably in the armchair by the fire, sipping her tea. “Oh, did she now?” you teased, shaking your head.
Missus laughed, her graying hair framing her face. “Don’t listen to her, love. I was just keeping your mother out of trouble.”
The room filled with laughter until a familiar voice interrupted. “Baby, Daddy needs Mommy for a while, yeah? Why don't you go and play with Missus for a while.” Thomas said, stepping into the room.
Your daughter lit up and nodded. “Okay, Daddy!” she chirped, running over to Missus with her toys in hand.
Thomas extended a hand to you, his expression as unreadable as ever but his eyes warm. As soon as you were in the hallway, he leaned closer. “What were you tellin’ her?”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Just the story of how we met. You know, the softer version.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Softer version, eh? Did you leave out the bit where I killed Luca Changretta for your hand?”
A laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. “No, it’s a bit too brutal for a five-year-old, my dear Tommy.”
He smirked, his hands sliding over yours. “In time, then,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection. “But for now…”
Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you effortlessly toward the stairs.
“Thomas!” you squealed, laughing loudly as you clung to him.
“Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered, his grin widening as he carried you up, your laughter echoing through the house.
-----(Thomas's POV)
Thomas scooped you into his arms, holding you close as though you were the most precious thing in his world. He started up the stairs, his steps steady yet unhurried.
“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips.
He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Oh, I do. You’re my princess tonight—and every night.”
Your cheeks flushed as you playfully swatted his shoulder. “You’re so cheesy, Thomas.”
“Only for you,” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.
As he entered the room, he nudged the door shut with his foot and gently placed you on the bed. The golden glow of the fairy lights illuminated your face, making you look ethereal. He slowly placed you down onto your shared bed and paused, taking you in as if committing the moment to memory.
“You’re staring,” you teased, your lips curling into a soft smile.
“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re breathtaking.”
Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of vulnerability. “You make me feel that way,” you murmured.
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “That’s because it’s true,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.
He began to trail kisses along your cheeks and down your neck, his movements slow and deliberate. “Tell me if I ever do too much,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm and comforting.
“You could never do too much,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I trust you.”
His lips curved into a smile against your neck. “I’ll make sure you never regret that,” he said, his tone serious yet filled with love.
As your connection deepened, you let out a soft laugh. “You’re so gentle, Thomas. It’s like you’re afraid I’ll break.”
“I’m not afraid,” he replied, his voice a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “I just want you to know how much I adore you—every part of you.”
As he said those words, his lips were now down to yours. Tickling your lower abdomen with soft kisses and slowly licking your clit from top to the bottom, making you hiss in pleasure.
He couldn't get over the taste of you, finer than the whisky he drinks and the cigar he smokes. He can forget Ophium, when you are one addicting woman.
"Fuck... I love you Y/N" He mutters as he laps his wet tongue through your slit and holds your hips as you were twitching heavy. His thumb on your clit drawing circles slowly and at rhythm to his tongue.
When he hears you scream his name like a prayer his pants suddenly felt tight and he couldn't let it wait any longer, he had to make you cum on his mouth now or never.
"Cum for me baby. Please... Oh God Please let me taste you" as he enters his tongue in you and his nose nuzzled on your clit and fingers twisting your nipples, fast.
"Th-Thomas! I-I'm Ah!" and release you did. However that didn't stop him and he kept his ministering to you until you could feel that satisfying release on the depths of your stomach.
"Thomas! I... I might make a mess..." You plead him as you trashed on his grasp without avail for his biceps were locked on your hips and legs. "Then make a mess. I'd love to see you make a mess for me, love"
And you squirted on his mouth. As he slowly pulls himself away and smirks looking at your majestic image, "Fuck, love you look gorgeous".
He was about to come back down and devour you once more but you won't let that happen this Christmas day. So, when you took control, he couldn’t help but smile up at you as your fingers traced the sharp angles of his face. “You know, I don’t think I say this enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“What’s that?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips as he gazed up at you, completely captivated.
“I love you,” you said simply, your words carrying the weight of your feelings.
His eyes softened, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “You don’t have to say it all the time. I feel it every moment I’m with you.”
When you finally lay side by side, your breaths still mingling, Thomas turned to you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re my everything, you know that?” he said softly.
You smiled, your eyes glistening. “You’re mine, too,” you replied.
He chuckled, his voice warm and low. “Merry Christmas, love.”
“Merry Christmas, Thomas,” you whispered back, as you kissed him softly on his lips.
Thomas groaned, a low sound of pleasure, as you shifted your position, straddling him. Inserting his cock to yours, His hands instinctively found your waist, holding you steady as you began to move. His breath hitched, and he looked up at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and adoration.
“You’re going to be the end of me,” he murmured, his voice strained yet teasing, as his hands tightened slightly on your hips, guiding your rhythm.
You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “I think you like it this way.”
A chuckle escaped him, though it quickly dissolved into another groan as you continued. His head fell back against the pillow, exposing his neck as he surrendered entirely to you. Your fingers slid to his jaw, tilting his face back toward you.
“Look at me,” you said softly, your voice firm but full of affection.
His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours as your hand moved to his throat. You applied the slightest pressure, watching as his breath hitched and his gaze darkened.
“Is this okay?” you asked, pausing briefly to ensure he was comfortable.
Thomas’s hands slid up your sides, his grip reassuring. “Perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
You continued, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the moment as much as he was. His hands roamed your body, occasionally tightening as he got closer to the edge.
“I’m not going to last,” he murmured, his voice strained.
You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips as you whispered, “Then don’t hold back, baby.”
Moments later, the tension in his body gave way, and he groaned your name, his voice heavy with release. You followed shortly after, your body trembling as you reached your peak.
Breathless, you collapsed onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. Neither of you spoke for a while, the only sound in the room being your steady breaths mingling together.
Thomas finally broke the silence, his voice soft and full of contentment. “Merry Christmas, love.”
You smiled against his chest, your fingers drawing lazy patterns on his skin. “Merry Christmas, Thomas.”
----
🐧Hopefully I ended that well :"D aha... mhen :"D I just wanted it to be cute and all since its christmas aha~ so merry christmas everyone ^^ have a happy holiday ^^🐧
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Part One - Part Two
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I'm a new follower after binging to your writings akejwjeej anyway, I've been craving for some angst lately and here's what I got so far,
reader who started acting cold towards the MLs because they've been hanging out way too much with MC (not the reader) so they started not replying to them, talking or just not going out to them at all until the reader just ghosted them.
though I'm not sure if u write angst since it's not written or indicated.. it's up to you if u want to write this. if not, feel free to ignore XD
Envy
AN: Hi nonnie! Since I didn’t specify that i prefer to write hunter/ambiguous!Reader (basically not rivaling with the MC) before you sent in the request, I will write this for you! :)
Future asks should either MC!Reader or Ambigous!Reader please! Ty 🩶
It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t paying attention to you enough lately. And he was supposed to be your boyfriend! He promised that they were just friends, that it was nothing more than work, but now you didn’t know…
So when he texted you last, you turned off your phone, not wanting to deal with his bullshit.
Knows there’s something wrong immediately. You always answer his texts. Whether it be an emoji or a full-blown paragraph, you’ve never left Zayne on read. Ever.
So, he goes to the flower shop and buys you a bouquet. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. He texts you that he’s picking up your favorite dinner on the way back and asks what kind of macarons you want. You don’t answer, so he goes the safe option and gets your favorite. You almost don’t answer the door when he drops by, but you can’t hide from this forever. So with a heavy sigh, you swing the door open to see Zayne with a bouquet of flowers with dinner and dessert.
Zayne: Can we talk…?
You let him in, of course you do, and you eat dinner in silence. But Zayne is adamant about having this discussion.
Zayne: She’s my patient…and my friend.
You: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you need to hang out with her all the time!
In the end you both discussed your feelings and set clear boundaries with him. It’s a step in the right direction. Later, he cuddles you on the couch, stroking your hair while whispering affirmations in your ear.
Zayne: I’m sorry, dear. You’re the only one for me… Never doubt that.
This was the third date he blew off. For her. Yes, she was just his body guard, and yes Rafayel has always been naturally flirty, but that didn’t mean his fondness for her didn’t affect you. You were his significant other! All his flirty affections should be yours and yours alone. You couldn’t stand the fact you had to share his attention. Apparently, Rafayel couldn’t either.
Rafayel: It’s not that big of a deal! She was just helping me gather metapearls to make into pigment— Yes, I could have called you. But she’s my bodyguard! She’s more cut out for it!
Sweet whispers and reassurances turned to broken promises. What was supposed to be one hour away turned to five and you were sitting alone in the fancy restaurant yet again. You didn’t even wait for him at home like you usually do. After turning off your phone, you opted to crash at a friends house.
This turned into a big fight.
Rafayel: What’s with you— You were never this clingy.
Clingy? Not wanting to share your boyfriend with a potential lover is clingy? When you brought up the b word (breakup), he got his act together real quick.
Rafayel: Okay, okay. She’ll be my bodyguard at PR events only… And I’ll only contact her for business purposes.
Though you’d rather her not be his bodyguard at all, you understand they have a deal regarding hunter work so it’s a compromise. While you’re at your desk doing some work, he wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling your into your neck.
Rafayel: ‘M really sorry… I was a real jerk… I love you…
The worst part about having this problem with Xavier is that he has no idea what’s going on. She was his coworker, his work partner, and his neighbor. There wasn’t much he could do to stop seeing her.
Xavier: I can’t just move out of my home because of you have a problem with her…
You: Yeah, but she doesn’t need to come over all the time to “teach you how to cook”. I could do that!
It gets worse when they go on missions together. He had promised to call you every night. But he didn’t. And you were fed up.
So, you blocked him. Only for the duration of his mission. But it’s long enough to send a message. The next day, he comes to your house with an arm full of plushies and a nervous look in his eyes.
Xavier: I read that in order to maintain a strong relationship, you have to communicate and set boundaries… Can we discuss this? Together?
You guys both end up having a heartfelt discussion at the table. You heard his side, he heard yours, and you came to a compromise about the situation. He takes you out on a sweet date as an apology. It isn’t the end all be all of apologies, but it’s a start. He holds your hand tightly, leaning over to kiss your forehead.
Xavier: I promise we’re in this together for the long ride, just you and me…
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@julijuli77
Here is that second prompt for codywan, set in my fix it universe. You requested children other than anakin's, one of his brothers' kids. How about three of them XD
Prompt: #10 - making up stories to take away the child's fear of something irrational
Cody was content, half-dozing under the weight of blankets and the comforting warmth of Obi-Wan pressed against his back. He wasn’t entirely asleep, but pleasantly drowsy enough. Obi-Wan’s arm rested across his waist and his steady breath brushed against his neck. It was soothing.
“You alright?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low and rough with sleep, breaking the quiet.
“I’m fine,” Cody muttered, feeling the light press of Obi-Wan’s lips against his shoulder. He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he reached back to give Obi-Wan’s leg a squeeze.
He felt Obi-Wan’s quiet huff of amusement. “None of that now. We have company.”
Cody snorted. “I didn’t do anything. What were you thinking?”
“That’s entirely your fault,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “You couldn’t resist the pleading eyes.”
Cody chuckled, knowing Obi-Wan wasn’t wrong. “We would have been watching Mira anyway,” he reasoned.
It was true. Liri had been planning for months to attend the prestigious gala where she’d be presented with an award. Which meant dragging Wolffe to it. Cody and Obi-Wan had volunteered to watch Mira, and Cody had been looking forward to it. He adored his nieces and nephew. But as soon as Tvarin caught wind of Mira’s sleepover, he’d begged to come too. The two of them were practically inseparable, and Cody couldn’t bring himself to say no. Veya, of course, didn’t want to be left out of the fun either.
So, the three of them had stayed over, and Cody and Obi-Wan had made a night of it, pizza, snacks, holos, and a living room camping trip complete with a pillow fort.
Cody hummed in agreement. Then he heard it, the faint sound of hushed voices, too quiet to make out but enough to tug at his instincts.
Obi-Wan shifted, half-sitting up in the dark. “The children,” he said softly. “Something’s off…”
Cody tensed, pushing himself upright. “Off?”
“They’re…” Obi-Wan tilted his head, listening. “Scared.”
That was all Cody needed to hear. He threw back the blankets and padded toward the living room, his bare feet quiet against the floor.
The scene that greeted him was both amusing and concerning. Mira, Tvarin, and Veya were huddled together under their makeshift tent of blankets and pillows, a flashlight casting shadows across the walls. Mira and Tvarin were whispering, gesturing wildly, while Veya clung to Tvarin’s arm, her eyes wide and fearful.
Cody paused in the doorway, arms crossed.
“...You’re the one who said it wasn’t scary!” Tvarin hissed.
“It wasn’t that scary!” Mira shot back.
“Oh, please! You were scared too!”
Cody knew that tone all too well and stepped forward before it escalated. “What is going on?” he asked, flicking on the lights.
The sudden brightness made Veya shriek, and the other two flinched, grabbing each other defensively. All three began talking at once, their words a chaotic mess.
Obi-Wan appeared in the doorway behind Cody, holding up a hand. “One at a time.”
“Mira wanted to watch a holo!” Veya blurted.
Mira and Tvarin both turned to her, indignant.
“She picked it!” Tvarin accused. “Said it was about a monster and wasn’t scary.”
“My friend at school got to watch it!” Mira huffed, crossing her arms. “It’s not fair that my mama said no.”
“You should have asked your dad then,” Tvarin pointed out.
“Yeah, right. He’d tell me to ask Mama,” Mira muttered.
“You didn’t ask yours either!” She shot back.
“They would say no anyway!” Tvarin shot back, defensive.
“Mama and Papa said no too…” Veya added quietly.
“What holo?” Cody asked, cutting through the bickering.
The three children froze, suddenly very quiet. Obi-Wan stepped forward, picking up the discarded datapad from beside the fort.
“Ah,” Obi-Wan said after a moment. “That makes sense.” He turned the screen toward Cody.
Cody’s brow furrowed as he recognized the title. It was a new monster thriller that had taken the holonet by storm. He hadn’t seen it himself, it wasn’t his or Obi-Wan’s taste, but the buzz around it had been impossible to miss. Definitely not a film for children.
“Your parents were right,” Obi-Wan said softly. “This is probably not something you’re ready for yet.”
“But half the school has seen it!” Mira said, throwing her hands up dramatically.
“Now Mira is scared of the dark,” Tvarin said, rolling his eyes. “Said there were monsters in the shadows.”
“Am not!” Mira snapped, glaring at him.
“I saw them too,” Veya whispered.
Cody suppressed a smile. They’d gotten along so well all evening, he supposed it was only a matter of time before a squabble broke out. They were their fathers’ children, after all. Sometimes, their arguments were so reminiscent of Fox and Wolffe as cadets that it was uncanny.
Obi-Wan crouched by the fort. “Your parents set rules like this not because they don’t want you to have fun, but because some things are better saved for when you’re older.”
Cody chimed in, sitting beside him. “Some people don’t like scary movies at all. Your dad doesn’t,” he said to Mira, “never did.”
Veya perked up slightly. “Papa doesn’t like them either,” she admitted.
Tvarin shrugged. “My dad does.”
Their voices were soft as they muttered apologies for breaking the rules. Mira fiddled with the edge of her pajama sleeve, Tvarin seemed nervous, and Veya hugged her knees tightly.
Cody leaned over taking the flashlight, flicking it on with a click. He shined it on the wall. “Let me show you something,” he said. He angled, holding it between his cheek and shoulder and put his hands in front of it.
The first shadow was simple, a bird, its wings flapping as Cody moved his hands. Mira leaned forward, her dark eyes fixed on the wall, wide-eyed curiosity.
“It’s easy,” Cody said. He shifted his fingers, and the bird turned into the shape of a bantha, its horns bobbing as he moved his thumbs.
“That’s amazing,” Veya said.
Tvarin leaned closer. “Can I try?”
Cody smirked and handed him the flashlight. “Go for it, kid.”
Tvarin furrowed his brow in concentration, holding the flashlight with one hand while twisting the other to create a shadow that vaguely resembled a nexu. Mira giggled, and Veya smiled.
“Not bad,” Cody said with mock seriousness. “Could use some work on the claws, though.”
As the children traded the flashlight back and forth, experimenting with their own shapes, Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Do you know,” he began, his voice low and soothing, “that in ancient times, shadows were said to carry the stories of warriors?”
The children stilled, their gazes turning toward him with rapt attention.
“They’d cast their shadows on the walls to teach their young ones about courage,” Obi-Wan continued, bringing his own hands to the light. A shape appeared, a krayt dragon, as Obi-Wan moved his fingers. “They’d tell tales of how the shadows were their friends, guiding them through the dark and keeping them safe.”
“That’s cool,” Tvarin said.
“The shadows remind us that fears are often just tricks of the light. When we understand them, they lose their power.” Obi-Wan said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“And sometimes shadows are just shadows. Things like lights from speeders outside.” Cody added, practically, pointing toward the window. The faint movement of headlights played across the blinds, creating patterns on the walls.
Mira tilted her head, watching the shadows with new understanding. “So… no monsters?”
“No monsters,” Obi-Wan said gently. “Just shapes and stories.”
Satisfied, Mira nodded. “I liked the bird one,” she said, glancing at Cody.
“Me too,” Veya agreed.
Still, Cody didn’t miss the way Veya’s eyes darted toward the darker corners of the room or how Mira kept glancing back at the window. Even Tvarin, for all his bravado, was sitting close to his cousins.
Cody and Obi-Wan shared a look. It was unspoken, but clear, they couldn’t leave them alone.
“Alright,” Cody said, patting the couch. “We’ll sleep out here tonight. Monster watch.”
The three children brightened visibly at that, their wide eyes giving way to smiles. “You mean it?” Mira asked, clutching Tvarin’s arm in excitement.
“Absolutely,” Obi-Wan replied, pulling a spare blanket from the fort and tossing it onto the couch. “We��ll keep watch, and if any monsters decide to show up, they’ll have to answer to us.”
Mira giggled. “And you’ll use the Force!”
“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes twinkling. “But I suspect a well-aimed flashlight will do the trick just as well.”
As Cody and Obi-Wan settled onto the couch, Mira, Tvarin, and Veya snuggled back into their fort, whispering excitedly about their favorite shadow shapes. Cody stretched out, one arm draped over his face as he let out a sigh. Obi-Wan leaned back beside him, his head resting against Cody’s shoulder.
“Think they’ll sleep now?” Cody murmured.
“They’ll sleep,” Obi-Wan replied, his voice warm.
Cody glanced toward the fort, a smile tugged at his lips as he saw them curled up together.
“Monster watch,” Cody muttered under his breath.
“Well, at least we are used to being on duty.” Obi-Wan joked softly, over a yawn, his eyes closing as he let himself drift back to sleep.
#codywan#holiday drabbles#my fix it universe#mira is Wolffe's daughter#tvarin is Fox's son#veya is Bly's daughter#my ocs
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I found you on ao3 and love your writing. I’m interested in the soulmate au and wondered how would the some yanderes would in finding out their darling will try to severe their connection, seeing they rather be alone than any drama that comes with soulmates. My interest in Haikyuu is budding and working on an oc, fair warning she’s should have been in juvie
I think this is the first time I’ve heard of someone finding me on AO3! Usually it’s on Quotev lol! And good luck on your OC, she sounds fun!! XD I forgot some characters, but I included most of the most popular ones I think.
He’s stunned by the broken connection and, when he confronts you, he’s all tears and snot, begging to know why you would do this to him. He can’t fathom why you would do such a horrible thing. What did he do wrong? How can he fix this? This-this isn’t a permanent severance, is it?
He does a great job of guilt tripping you, whether that’s on purpose or not.
Nishinoya, Tanaka, Hinata, Bokuto
Interesting… he’s fascinated by how daring you are, to try to erase your mark and sever the connection between you both. Now, do you know it’s him you’re bound to or is it just soulmates in general that bother you? He’d very much like to know, and maybe he can change your mind in the meantime.
Tsukishima, Shirabu, Osamu, Kunimi, Kenma
Well, that’s bothersome. Still, it can’t be helped- someone as handsome and influential as him must intimidate someone as cute and precious as you. Maybe you’re afraid he doesn’t notice someone like you- don’t worry, he notices you plenty! Especially now that you’ve tried this obnoxious little tactic of getting his attention. That’s all it is, right? You just want his attention.
Well, you’ve got it now.
Oikawa, Kuroo, Atsumu, Semi
It hurts… it hurts so much! The fact that you disliked him enough to try to sever your connection to him breaks him apart. He doesn’t approach you yet. No, he needs a plan. He’ll keep his feelings private and put on a smile like you aren’t destroying the most important thing he has. It makes him feel insecure too… is he just not good enough for you?
Daichi, Sugawara, Asahi, Yamaguchi, Kita, Ushijima, Aone
Oh HELL no! You aren’t getting away with that! They’re at your doorstep before you can even finish trying. He’s known about the connection before it even existed (you’re meant to be together in his eyes) and he’s not letting you destroy it! Whether it’s by threats or force, he’ll make sure you never even think of trying that shit again.
Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Kyotani, Tendou, Suna
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What kind of murderer do you fancy Alastor as back on earth? (Forgive me this is a bit long, I started to ramble dkdkgk)
I tend to see it get handwaved once we're in hell, since anyone Alastor tenderizes just comes back later anyways, but there's a couple of different Flavors I'll see people give Alastor specifically for his serial killing back on earth.
The one I see most often is people giving him a moral code he uses to conduct Wholesome™ murders back on earth. Abusers, racists, door-to-door salesmen. If the law wasn't doing its job (or more accurately, working as intended), then Alastor provided REAL justice. This flavor tends to frame it less as Alastor killing cuz he wants to and more like a hero using the power of incredible violence out of necessity. Though sometimes I'll see him killing as a hobby, he just keeps to this strict moral code about it
Just as common, though slightly less I think, he's definitely killing for funsies, but has a moral code telling him who's off limits. He avoids women and children, and hilariously good people are often safe, but everyone else is fair game. If you're a regular dude who's like, fine I guess, you are DEFINITELY still on the menu
Least common flavor is the "if you're in reach of a sticky hand and I can get away with it, you're on the hit list." This I've observed tends to be saved for fics where Alastor's the antagonist or we're going full villain-mode and reveling in the moral bankruptcy XD
There's definitely all sorts of in-between flavors, but these are the ones I see pop up most often lol. SO! I was curious if you had any headcanons or preferences over what kind of serial killing Alastor did topside :3
I can definitely understand the appeal of the vigilante justice route, but I absolutely have an affinity for an Alastor who killed for shits and giggles and wasn't TOO concerned with who's on the other side of that knife. Love me a bitch who's done some unethical shit for absolutely no reason (人 •ᴗ•) adds SPICE, y'know XD
I like to go for a fourth option! >:D I like to think that Alastor does have a moral code for killing, but that it basically amounts to "people I don't like."
There are so many stories out there of serial killers targeting women who look like their mom because they have mommy issues; I think Alastor should get to have the opposite. He kills wealthy, powerful, probably-white men because he has daddy issues and as a result that is the exact kind of man that, just, pisses him off to a murderous extent. He would never hurt a lady! Not because women can do no wrong in his eyes, but because he has a particular image of himself and that would be ungentlemanly. Any Vox-alike, however...
At the same time, I don't think he in any way acted with the intent of being a vigilante for any true justice. Like, maybe he does go out of his way sometimes to find a particularly heinous individual, but that's not really for the greater good. It's an excuse to satisfy his desire to put a wealthy man in his place - on the wrong side of the grass. And if it's a week when he sees that someone was being a little sleazy around Mimzy, or an obnoxious guest on his radio show spoke to him with that particular tone... you don't have to be a rapist to be worthy of Alastor blowing off some steam.
Anyway, tl;dr, I like to think murder was his tension release and so he generally went for people he found annoying (aka. people like his father) under a thin veil of "the world is better off without them anyway." He probably had a lot of revenge fantasies about his dad and the next closest thing was grabbing a shotgun and chasing some sleazy suit-and-tie through the woods barefoot.
#ask#personal#moonshroooms#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor meta#hazbin hotel meta#op meta#also thanks for that “door to door salesmen” under wholesome murders LMFAO I cracked up#anyway this was a delightful ask overall tysm <3
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Absolutely love the pattern in J-BLs of having a POV change during the show to highlight how fucking insane the second person (usually more popular and very controlled, seemingly calm) is about the first person!
And this time, with Hayama, I love that he actually for once has a good friend. Sure, he doesn't really let anyone close, but opposite to Kiyoi and Mizuki (who I both adore, don't get me wrong), he didn't get close with the worst people but got a more decent friend *_*
To be fair, also opposite to Kiyoi and Mizuki, Hayama didn't get how fucking insane he was about Shirasaki until later as well XD
#ramble#personal#my personal weatherman#utsukushii kare#at 25:00 in akasaka#currently going insane over episode 7 and writing a tiny piece#love all those shows to bits#they make me froth at the mouth
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