#don’t mess with them or their family they’ll beat you up
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🦋“Shelldon, play Mama Mia!”
🌙“Yeah!”
They’re supposed to be doing chores… but the music calls💃🎶
Commission for @/star_sparkler on Twt! I’m so happy she wanted something of August and Sofía, I had so much fun making this!
(Close ups and an extra silly)
They are their fathers’ daughters after all 😗✌🏻💫
#Starr’s Art#Starrs Comms#Commission#August Hamato#Sofía Ai Hamato#rottmnt oc#clone babiesss#twins 2.0 in spirit#don’t mess with them or their family they’ll beat you up#I love these girls so much
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A (Hopefully Coherent) Ramble About What Mal Du Pays Represents
So this might be a little over the place cuz I don’t really do analysis, but the battle with Mal Du Pays has really stuck with me, hear me out (and take this doodle)
So as we know, Mal Du Pays is essentially the embodiment of Siffrin’s self-hatred and intrusive thoughts, but what I find interesting is that it also represents the part of Siffrin that suffers because of it. Mal Du Pays is basically the embodiment of self-destructing thoughts; It spends the battle emotionally torturing Siffrin, but it also spends the battle silently screaming and crying.
And the name meaning “homesickness” is also a detail I find fascinating because most of the things Mal Du Pays says have little to do with the forgotten country, with the exception being Odile’s remarks about the lack of a home equating to a lack of identity. Homesickness is characterized by longing; yearning for the warmth and familiarity of home while being away from it, yet most of what Mal Du Pays says has to do with the party. To Siffrin, his party is home. While it pains them greatly that their country and entire childhood are gone, the thought of losing his new family terrifies and pains him more. He spent so long belonging nowhere, they’re terrified of losing the one place he feels like he belongs to now. He wants to be with them really badly, to the point he was subconsciously willing to hold them hostage.
Siffrin is a person made for loving. He loves strongly and wants to be loved back, but paradoxically this is also the reason he hates himself. They think it’s selfish to want that love back, they think their happiness shouldn’t come first or even come second, it shouldn’t be important at all; it’s their family who is lovable, it’s them who deserve happiness, not him, because he isn't like them, he's a nobody who belongs nowhere. Siffrin is a person who loves strongly but doesn’t lend that love to himself.
Unfortunately, this self-hatred also manifests in paranoia. Because they think themself unworthy of love they also project this onto their friends, thinking they’ll hate him if he reveals the “real” him, that they’ll turn heel as soon as they can because he’s so deplorable.
The party, in reality, loves Siffrin, but that love gets filtered through Siffrin’s self-hatred and comes back out as a mess of self-imposed conditions, “they’ll hate me if I do this” “They’ll hate me if I say that”, none of which is true, but they wholeheartedly believe it is, and it hurts him
Mal Du Pays also being unable to be harmed by Siffrin is something I feel is so important. Beating this part of himself into submission is essentially what he’s been trying to do the whole game and it doesn’t work, you can’t beat yourself up and expect that to make you feel better. Mal Du Pays, as aggressive as it is, isn’t a battle that needs to be won it’s a wound that needs to be healed
#isat#in stars and time#isat siffrin#isat mal du pays#isat spoilers#in stars and time spoilers#isat act 5 spoilers#WRITING THOUGHTS IS HARD WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME#H O W DO PEOPLE ESSAY.
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Him and I
Swiss Trip
Previous
Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader, mob boss! Nico
Warnings: allusion to sex (no smut yet), language, a bit of fighting
A/n: sooo I have to make the Switzerland bit of this AU multiple parts because there’s a lot of drama and it really got away from me haha. Anyway, enjoy this cute piece of Nico and reader traveling to Switzerland!
~~~~
There’s not very many times you can say you’ve seen Nico nervous. He does immensely well under pressure, keeps a level head and a calm demeanor. He often even looks cocky, like he knows more than he lets on.
You love when he’s like that.
All glinting eyes and smirking, that lift in his chin and puff of his chest. He’s hot when he’s cocky.
But there’s something endearing about when he’s not. When his palm is sweating in yours and he keeps messing with his hair. Like he is now.
“Baby,” you giggle, reaching across the recently cleared dinner table for his hand. “You’re gonna give yourself bed head.”
Nico laces his fingers between yours, shaking his head before meeting your gaze.“I thought you liked my bed head?” The flicker of the candlelit table warms his already charming features, glows on his dimpled cheeks and dark eyes.
Squeezing his fingers, you nod. “I do, but you spent 20 minutes styling it before dinner.” His smile turns bashful and he shakes his head so his hair falls back into place.
“You gonna tell me why you’re so fidgety?” You question, tracing your thumb over his knuckles. Mischief twinkles in his eye, lips parting to speak far too quickly and you cut him off. “Don’t say you’re anxious to fuck me Hischier or you’ll get a cold shower tonight.”
Pouting, he slumps back into his seat. Gaze falling to the table in front of him, he scratches at a spot on the cloth with his free hand. You give him a moment, let him hide behind those thick eyelashes and loose pieces of hair in his face. After a beat he looks up at you.
“I want you to come to Switzerland with me,” he says, inhaling deeply to calm himself. “I want you to meet my family, to see my first home. And I know that’s a lot but I’ll take care of it all and I’ll take care of you-“
You reach for his other hand, interrupting him. “Of course I’ll go,” you agree, love swelling in your chest. “Why wouldn’t I? Switzerland Nico? I’ve never even left the coast!”
Your giddiness is palpable, already leaning forward in your seat like you’re about to crawl over the table to get closer to him. It makes him smile, that crooked adoring grin he gets when you’re happy.
“You really want to?” He questions shyly, releasing one of your hands to stand up and come around the two person table. You turn to face him, nodding eagerly as he kneels on the terrace in front of you.
Running your fingers through his hair, you scoff. “I’d love to Nico. I mean, Switzerland is what made you who you are. And I know you miss it, even if you won’t say it. “
You press a chaste kiss to his smiling lips. “I’d be honored to meet your family, as well.”
Shockingly, his smile flickers and he gets that deer-in-headlights look. Without saying a word, you raise an eyebrow and stare him down. It doesn’t take long for him to crack, not when it comes to you.
Guilty, he hunches forward and shrugs. “I- I still haven’t told my family about you, I mean my sister knows but…”
“Why?” You ask, a bite to your words. How could he not tell his family? He’s talked to you about them as if they know who you are. Years of a serious relationship that apparently haven’t been that serious if he couldn’t bother to tell those he loves.
Nico falters for a moment, gaze drifting around your face as he thinks and you’re about to stand up and walk away when he finally speaks.
“They’re mean,” he explains “not like treat you badly but they’ll-I wouldn’t have been able to protect you. If I so much had mentioned your name my father would have had a PI and an investigation on you within a day.
“And they come up with all these stories and reasons to not trust me or you, and they’d be wrong so I just kept you to myself.”
Nico has a terrible habit of speeding through his sentences when he’s scared or guilty. Luckily you’ve had a lot of time learning his quirks or that whole rant would’ve been lost on you.
And as much as it hurts you to know that you don’t have a place in his family’s lives, you understand why he did what he did.
“You could’ve told me,” you reply “instead of just letting me assume they knew of me every time you mentioned them.”
You think back to all the times he told a story of his siblings, how you laughed and always said you couldn’t wait to meet them. How he’d agree with that lovesick little smile on his face like they already loved you.
How misleading it all was.
“Nina knows,” he defends, “doesn’t that count for something? She’s my favorite anyway.”
Scoffing, you drop his hands and he scrambles up to his feet. “You said that about Luca two days ago Nico.” Pushing the chair back, you dodge him and stalk back towards the house.
His sneakers squeak as he chases after you. “Baby please,” he cries, grabbing at your hand but you just tug him along through the back door. “I just wanted to keep you happy and safe. That’s my job-“
Nico stumbles into your back when you abruptly stop in the hall, caught off guard by the sight in front of you. Beautiful sets of luggage are laid out in front of the staircase, slick and elegant. Jammed in the zipper of the duffle sits a little bright Swiss flag on a stick.
“Surprise?” Nico mumbles, hesitant and you tip toe closer to look at the gifts. Two luggage tags sit on top of the suitcase, shaped into matching baby blue Lego blocks. When you flip them over one is blank, but the other is filled in by the thin, slanted handwriting that belongs to Nico.
Y/n Y/l/n (Hischier)
If lost (suitcase or pretty girl) return to Nico Hischier
Under it all sits a little heart.
“I thought it was cute.” Nico says quietly, and you can feel him hovering close behind you. “I thought you could fill out mine.”
You hum, anger dissipating at the thoughtful gesture when you spot the passport holder sitting amongst the other things. Fingers the edges of it, you frown in confusion at how new and crisp the cover looks. Nico’s is beaten up which means this can’t be his.
Flicking it open, you’re met with your very own passport, the image matching the one on your drivers license. Spinning around, you hold it up to Nico.
“Did you get me a fake passport Hischier?”
Eyes wide, he shakes his head. “No, no, no!” He pushes closer to you, gently taking it from your hand and setting it back where it was. “I have connections, it’s real. I wanted to have everything done, that way we could just do the fun part of traveling.”
In the heat of your anger, of the thought that you weren’t important enough for his family, you completely overlooked Nico’s greatest quality. Everything he does is for others.
There’s not a selfish bone in his body. You’re not even sure he could be selfish if he tried. And while that doesn’t erase the fact that he omitted the truth from you, he did it with your feelings and happiness in mind.
“Nico,” you murmur, resolve melting. He takes that as his cue to reach out for you, taking ahold of your hips in those strong hands of his. “You make it impossible to be mad at you.”
A crooked smile sneaks up on his cheeks, puppy dog eyes still pouting at you but not as serious as they’d been before. “Don’t be mad at me,” he whispers, and you step between his feet. “Just love me.”
An amused grin takes over your lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, rising to your toes. “You know I do,” you reply, tilting your chin up as he leans in closer. Catching your lips in a kiss, you bury your fingers in his hair. Nico hums contently.
“You’ll still go?”
“Yeah but you gotta kiss me again first.”
~~~~
Nico checks his watch, counts the seconds hand as it slowly ticks around. He looks away, gazes out the window at the setting sun and frowns. Nothing entertaining out there. He kicks his foot up onto his knee, fiddles with the laces of his sneakers for a moment.
Dropping his foot back down, he looks over at Timo in his eye mask, snoring softly. His vision blurs with frustration and exhaustion, his bones feeling heavy in this stupid airplane seat.
“What’s wrong baby?” You interrupt, closing and setting your book on the table. Nico sighs, hunches forward and rests his head in his palms. A gentle hand finds his back, runs up and down his spine and shoulders.
Pathetically, Nico whines “I’m so tired.” Like an angry toddler he rubs at his eyes with his fists, sighs again before slumping back into his seat. You peel your hand out from behind him, pull the beanie off his head and start stroking through his hair.
“Scoot over,” you instruct, rising from your seat and he ignores your command in favor of just widening his legs for you. Not that you mind, sneaking over and settling into his lap.
He wraps you up in his arms, sighing contently as you hit the button to recline his seat. Nico’s been very vocal lately about his disdain for flying, whining to you every day about he can never sleep and the food is bad and the seats make his butt go numb, etc. It’s part of the reason why he invested in a private jet so long ago, not that it helps. He’s just grumpy in front of less people now.
But this is his first time flying with you and he never realized how much of impact you have in making him comfortable.
Curling into his side, you lay your head on his shoulder and he tucks his nose into your hair. You smell like his shampoo you’d borrowed in the shower this morning and laundry detergent.
Peering out the window at the darkening sky, Nico trails his fingertips in soothing circles on your hip. “Are you cold baby?” He asks when you shiver but you hum in disagreement.
“Did you pack warm enough clothes?”
He feels you giggle. “Yeah I did. And I can always steal from you.”
Nico smiles at that, feels his eyes getting heavy. He wants to sleep, knows he needs to before seeing his family again for the first time in years and this time with a surprise guest.
But he can’t quite get himself to succumb to that groggy feeling.
“Talk to me ‘bout something?” He mumbles and your hand slips under his sweater, seeking the warmth of his body. “Just for a few minutes?”
Humming in thought, you quietly begin to nitpick at him for god knows what. He manages to catch you whining about leaving Holtzy behind, a bit more ribbing about him keeping you a secret from his parents, but anything after that is lost on him. Because despite the complaining nature of your words, your tone is sweet and light.
It seeps into his chest, settles warmly in his heart and his head suddenly quiets enough for his eyes to slip shut, lulling him to sleep.
He wakes up a couple hours later to a dark jet, your warm nose plastered to his neck and a blanket draped over the two of you. Nico catches Timo’s eye across the aisle, his friend sending him a wink before going back to his movie.
Pulling the blanket further up your body, Nico closes his eyes again and just holds you.
~~~~
A large black SUV waits on the tarmac, an airline worker standing by the driver side door with a set of keys in hand. You smile politely at them, fighting off the grogginess as Nico guides you to the car.
A cold breeze bites at your face and neck, and you tighten the blanket wrapped around you. Timo greets the worker in Swiss German, the language still lost on you despite how hard you’ve tried to get Timo to teach you and hearing the words fall so fluently from him makes you pout.
Nico must see it on your face because he chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “You’ll get it on day my love,” he promises, pulling open the door. You hum in acknowledgment, letting him take the blanket from you so you can hop in and buckle up.
He waits for you to adjust everything and place your stuff by your feet before laying the blanket back over your lap. You laugh when he tucks it in under your thighs and around your back, nudging his nose into your smiling cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, smoothing your nap-mussed hair down. You nod and he shuts the door, immediately greeting the worker himself with a handshake and a nod. Timo has begun taking the luggage from the plane and loading it in the back, silently working as you watch your boyfriend through the tinted windows.
You can tell by how quickly he speaks that’s he’s using his native tongue, and it both annoys you and turns you on so you settle back into your seat, staring at the dark headrest of the seat in front of you.
The colors blur together, your brain falling into that sluggishness from sleeping on the flight, and you don’t even realize you’ve fallen asleep again until Nico is climbing into the backseat with you.
“Oh sorry,” he winces when your eyes shoot open but you shrug it off, curling into his body when he settles in the middle seat. His legs are too long to be sitting there so he sprawls out on your side of the car. “Go back to sleep baby, we don’t have to see anyone until the morning.”
You don’t need to be told twice, especially not when Timo puts the car in drive and pulls out of the tarmac. With the rumble of the vehicle, Nico’s body pressed close to yours, and the heat of the sweat warmer on your back, you’re out before either boy can say another word.
~~~~
When Nico said morning, he meant lunchtime. Not that you knew that until his naked body was disappearing into the bathroom and you finally dug your phone out from under the pillow.
It was a little past 12 and your heart jumped into your throat at the sight.
“Oh my god, Nico!” You shouted, sitting up and clutching the bed sheets to your chest because the room was so chilly.
Urgent, Nico sticks his head out of the bathroom. “What? What’s wrong?”
Scoffing, you throw your phone onto the mattress. “You let me sleep too late! It’s already noon!”
He huffs, shaking his head at you in disbelief and sauntering back into the room. Unashamedly, you watch him make his way to his suitcase and dig out a pair of boxers. You don’t meet his gaze until he’s slipped the clothes on and the beloved sight of his butt is gone.
Nico is smirking when he finally has your attention back on his face. You raise a challenging eyebrow, waiting for him to finally respond to your complaints.
Not that he does. Instead he crawls back up the mattress to you, nudging you back into the pillows until he’s caging you into the mattress. With that shit eating grin still on his lips, he leans in to kiss you.
Dodging him, you turn your head so his lips fall on your cheek. “You didn’t answer me.”
He snickers. “Didn’t know it was a question.”
“You haven’t brushed your teeth.”
His breath is warm on your skin, nose brushing your cheek. Thick fingers grip onto your chin and he turns your head to face him.
“Didn’t seem to bother you when I was fucking you five minutes ago.” He retorts, and you giggle at the reminder. Before you can answer he’s kissing you, all soft and lazy like he’s got honey on his tongue.
After a moment you pull away from him, pushing the strand of hair that tickled your forehead behind his ear. “Promise they won’t be mad that it’s so late?”
He frowns. “Who?”
“Your family,” you murmur, rolling your eyes and he pinches your jaw at the action. “Ow,” you whine, gripping his forearm and digging your nails into the skin.
A hiss leaves his lips, and he loosens his fingers enough for you to tug his hand away from you. “Stop,” he grumbles, “and no they don’t care.”
“Don’t tell me to stop,” you snip, lightly shoving at his chest “you stop.”
He sits up onto his knees, frowning down at you with those stupid dark eyes of his. “You’re mean when you travel,” he comments.
“No I’m mean when you hurt me.” You argue, glaring at him. He silent for a moment, watching you but you don’t concede. That mob boss power look doesn’t work on you.
He sighs, blinking slowly. “Sorry, shouldn’t have pinched you like that.”
Annoyance melting away, you give him sad eyes and pout. “I was just asking a question,” you mumble “I’m nervous.”
Everything about him softens; the tick of his jaw, the hard look in his eyes, the pull in his shoulders. “Why in the world are you nervous?” He murmurs, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “You are my everything baby, and they’ll see that. They’ll see you, and there’s no need to be nervous about something that special.”
The tears that well up in your eyes are unstoppable, they sneak up and blur your vision to the point that you have to shut your eyes. But that just causes the tears to roll down your cheeks.
Embarrassed you try to curl into yourself. It’s impossible with Nico’s large body on yours, especially when he leans over and coos at you before wiping them away.
“Eeesh what’s happening? Why are you crying?”
You wipe at your own eyes, laughing at how flustered he sounds and shake your head. “I don’t know!”
Meeting his gaze, you blush at the bewildered yet adoring gleam in his eyes. “Let’s get some food in ya before you get hysterical,” he instructs, slipping off the bed and holding his hand out for you.
“Clothes first,” you reply, letting him pull you up. The floor is cold on your bare feet and you leap onto his sock covered ones without caring whether it hurts him or not.
Nico stumbles, takes ahold of your waist to keep you from falling. “The heater’s on you big baby,” he grumbles, swiftly tossing you back onto the bed.
“Stop throwing me around I’m naked!” You complain, kicking at the tangled duvet. He just snickers, walking over to your suitcase.
“Tell me what you want to wear.”
Right, it’s time to meet the parents.
Next
#nico hischier#nico hischier x reader#mob boss au#mob boss Nico hischier#mob boss! Nico#new jersey devils#nhl#nico hischier fanfic
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Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader || 2 ||
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|| Masterlist ||
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Authors note: You all tempted me to make a second part…this one isn’t really a continuation but a small mini snippet of reader and Miles little dynamic again because you all enjoyed it! Again, Spanish words are mentioned, fluent and Latino myself. Also thank you for 6.8K followers!!
Summary: Reader is Black Cat in Miguel’s universe who is married to the leader of the spider society and who’s also taken a liking towards Miles who has invited him to his families party.
Warnings: Slight ATSV spoilers, fluff, angst, slight language, Spanish words ( fluent ), past experiences, dancing, parties, Miguel and reader have a moment, sarcasm, mentions of sex, second chances, found family.
Word count: 2.6k
- || Part One || Part Three ||
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“You want him to what?”
Miguel stared down at the fifteen year old, hands on his hips with a confused look on his face while also raising a brow. Clearly he didn’t understand the teens question nor did he want too.
“I want to invite Y/n to my fathers celebration of him becoming captain.” Repeated Miles with a faint and nervous smile on his face. After spending his time in the spider society he’s gotten adjusted to the routine in HQ and knew the rules that he wasn’t suppose to break and one was not to mess with Miguel or do anything to upset the man. Miles didn’t want to upset Miguel, but had no choice in asking for the mans permission in allowing Y/n to come over to his families party.
Due to Y/n being a thief and Miguels ex-ish husband he’s been under house arrest in HQ, meaning that he wasn’t allowed to leave HQ without Miguel’s permission even though the man had escaped many times and had been chased down by Miguel. The two chasing each other through different universe to the point where Miguel was tempted to chain the cat down due to constant escaping.
“You know he can’t leave.”
“Come on, Mig!” Y/n voice echos through the lab, getting both of their attention as he jumps down from the ceiling, emerging from the shadows as he wore his suit and lands a cat next to Miles before standing up straight and smirking at Miguel. “It’s just a party, I’ll behave.” He purrs out in a teasing matter, knowing how much his husband hated it but also loved it at the same time.
Miguel glared at him, baring his fangs as he opens his mouth to protest only for Y/n to beat him to it. “Why don’t you come too? You can keep an eye on me?” He suggests, getting Miguel to close his mouth as the other man thinks.
Y/n raises his brows in surprise, not believing that the man would actually think about the idea as he glanced down at Miles who shrugs in return. It only took Miguel a few minutes before he’s agreeing to the idea. “Very well.”
“Yes!” Miles fist bumps the air as he jumps in excitement, turning to Y/n with a large smile on his face. “My parents are going to love you!”
“Don’t you think they will find it weird or suspicious that their fifteen year old son is hanging around someone nearing their thirties who is also a thief?” Y/n questions, a bit worried on how Miles parents would think about him being around their son, clearing not knowing that he was Spider-Man who was being trained under the cities number one thief who Miguel despised.
“Nah, they’ll like you. Just work your charm on them.” Said Miles, getting the black cat to grin at his words. “I’ll be charming for sure.”
Miguel groans at his words, rolling his eyes. “Before you two go, I need you to do a mission for me as pay back for forcing me to go with you.”
“Technically you weren’t invited.” Miles mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for both adults to hear.
“What did you say?” Miguel sharply turns to Miles while Y/n holds back a laugh, covering his mouth and looking away as Miles quickly says ‘nothing’.
Y/n swallows down his laughter and clears his throat while winking at the kid and bumping his shoulder in a humorous manner before the two focused back on Miguel. “You two should never be in the same room together.” Said Miguel earning himself an eye roll from Y/n as he placed his hand no his hip. “Yeah, well you can’t get rid of my kid. I found him and he’s mine now.”
“You can’t just claim some kid.”
“Well I just did!”
The two adults began to argue, again. The usual routine for many spiders.
Whenever Y/n and Miguel were together they always found a way to break into an argument, fighting like a married couple and growing heated with each other. Clearly everyone in the room can feel the sexual tension between the two that a couple of traumatized spiders may or may not have walked in on the two before, causing them to avoid Miguel at all times. Too embarrassed to face the man who was balls deep into his husband.
The two have tried to be careful more often, but sometimes when their letting out their frustrations on each other it tends to be on the most random time of the day and random place.
Miles can only watch the two, going back and forth at the two before checking his own watch to see the time. “Oh no! I forgot about the cakes—gotta go! See you tonight!” Miles quickly shouts out as he ran out of the lab, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on their own as the two watch Miles run out of the lab.
“Well, I guess my house arrest is lifted.” Y/n uses his pointer finger to tap Miguel on the check in a mocking matter before taking steps backwards and making his way towards the exit. “See you tonight!”
“The mission—!”
“Find someone else, sweetheart!” Y/n laughs out as he uses his own watch to open a portal into Miles universe, jumping through and appearing back in his penthouse that he was able to purchase with the things he stole, humming to himself happily as the portal closed behind him, finally giving him the privacy to remove his suit and get himself prepared for Miles family party. He wasn’t one to socialized, but for Miles he would do anything for that kid.
After the discovery of Miguel and Y/n’s relationship and that fact that he was a variant of a familiar thief to many spidermen, he wasn’t too surprised when they would all give him cautious stares. Later finding out that many of the black cats that they’ve met had either betrayed or used their Spider-Man in order to get what they wanted. It surprised everyone when they found out that he was far more different than they thought.
Very little knew about his and Miguels relationship; they worked in their universe and loved each other. Still do.
Many of the black cats became a thief or who they are now due to a poor life or wanting to help a family figure while Y/n became who he was due to the death of Miguels daughter, needing to find an escape from the grief and found relief in stealing.
He was still loyal to Miguel, not once did he bat an eye for another man or women always wearing his wedding ring underneath the gloves he wore. Both Miguel and Y/n can argue all they want and claim that they can’t stand each others presences but the universe always brought them back together, it was their canon.
While Y/n got ready for the party he tried his best not to overdress, wearing something less formal and more casual and also making sure that he always came with something not wanting to show any bad manners as he took the extra time to bake some cookies for the party and smiled proudly at his own work once he was done and ready.
He didn’t need Miles address, clearly already knowing where the kid lived as he made his way through the streets of New York and towards Miles apartment building where he can hear the loud music playing and the sound of laughter above him, making him tilt his head back a bit to see some lights hanging on the side of the building.
“Going in?”
He’s startled by Miguels voice, turning around to come face to face with his husband. “Wha—whoa…” Y/n’s eyes slowly widen, his pupils dilating when the land on him, taking in his casual wear that he hasn’t seen in a while always seeing him in his spider suit and working.
“You look—“
Miguel raised a brow while grinning slowly.
“Good.” Y/n finishes, clearing his throat and trying to mask the blush rising to his cheeks and focused back on why they were here. “We should head in before Miles starts calling me to hurry up.” He held the tray of cookies in his hands and ignores Miguel's chuckle as the two walk inside the apartment building and making their way up the stairs. Now, Y/n was a known thief and skilled fighter and could take down a group of men on his own and yet somehow, he couldn’t face a simple party full of nice people and possibly gossip.
“Estas nervioso?”
Y/n swallows, looking over his shoulder to see Miguel staring at him with the softest look one that he knew too well. “Focus on your breathing and only think about how fast this will go by.” Miguel whispers near his ear, leaning forward while the other sighs deeply, giving himself a small reassured nod before the two step through the door and onto the crowded rooftop where they are greeted with music, laughter, and couples dancing.
“You made it!”
Y/n looks up ahead to see Miles pushing through the crowd as he waves his hands in the air with excitement, stumbling in his step and nearly tripping over himself and Y/n is quick to catch the kid, extending an arm out and catching him. “Whoa, easy kid. I get that your excited, we technically see each other every day.”
“I know, but we’re usually doing hero stuff. This is different.” Miles was smiling widely, eyes full of enthusiasm which doesn’t go unnoticed by the black cat himself. “Guess you’re right about that.”
“I still have to keep an eye on you.”
Miguels voice startles the two, clearly forgetting about his quiet presence. “Geez, maybe you should wear a bell you are quieter than me.” States Y/n, still not used to the fact of Miguel being quieter than him.
“You should wear that bell, not me.” Miguel shot back as Y/n sticks his tongue out at him in a childish manner.
“Miles!”
The three turn towards the direction of the voice only to see Miles mother approaching her son with a faint smile. “Mijo, did you invite these two?” She asks with a kind smile on her face, hand on her sons shoulder.
Miles suddenly grows bashful as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Mom this is Y/n, who I told you about and his Husband Miguel.” He introduces, catching his mother by surprise. “Oh! You’re Y/n—Miles talks fondly of you, I didn’t expect you to be so…” She can’t form the words but Y/n expected this reaction.
“Older? I know, I’ve told Miles that you would be worried to know that his son is hanging around someone twice his age but no worries I treat him like family and make sure that he isn’t causing any trouble for his parents.”
Miles Mother chuckled. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him, you can call me Rio.”
“Likewise.” He holds the plate of cookies out to her with a smile. “I didn’t want to come empty handed its bad manners.”
“Wow, how nice of you. Please help yourselves with anything.”
Y/n nods at her words and turns back to Miles when she walks away to place the cookies with the rest of the food. “See? Not so bad.”
“Wait until you meet my dad.”
Miguel suddenly speaks up. “Why do I feel weird not being acknowledged?”
“Because, women know everything. One look is all it takes and they know everything, its scary. She probably immediately knew about your true intentions with me.” He points an accusing finger at him as Miguel scoffs. “We’re married.”
“Technically divorced.”
“I see no divorce papers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at Y/n who glared up at him. “I’ll fuck you up.” He threatens which Miguel only finds adorable.
It didn’t take long for them to meet Miles father who was kind but also protective of his son, interrogating him a bit until Y/n works his charm and provides the new chief a gift, congratulating him on his new position and wishing him luck. His sudden flattery gets the teens father all flustered and speechless as he accepts the gift and him. Gaining the trust of both parents and getting the chance to know them further.
The party went on longer than any usual party, everyone was happily chatting away with their own family and friends while others danced to the music. The amount of excitement gets to Y/n, dragging Miguel onto the dance floor as the two danced away to Merengue music. It took Y/n some time to adjust to the fast pace while Miguel got it on the spot, making Y/n jealous by how fast he adapts to the music and dancing.
Miguel takes him by the waist and pulls him in close, the two panting heavily from the dancing as Y/n laughs. “Curse you and your Mexican genes.” Miguel chuckled. “Not my fault I dance better than you.” The two laugh, breathless from their dancing before moving away from the dance floor and much more private area where the music wasn’t too loud, finding their way on the edge of the roof top, sitting next to each other as they looked at the view ahead of them.
“I missed this.” Y/n voice is soft and genuine, eyes still focused on the city as Miguel glanced at him, licking his lips. “Parties?”
Y/n chuckles. “No, us.”
This causes a small faint smile to appear on Miguels lips as Y/n kept talking. “I missed feeling like this, so free and happy…I know we had our difficulties in the past and we lost so much.” He turns to face Miguel. “I don’t want to argue anymore or let the past catch up to us. I know—you miss her. I do too, believe me the amount of times I couldn’t stop thinking about her whenever I see things that remind me of her, but I know that she would want me to move on to start over again and I did.” He nods over his shoulder towards the group of people who were full of happiness and smiling faces, towards Miles who had his face buried in his hands as his parents speak about his embarrassing moments, getting the kid flustered.
Y/n sighs contently, turning back to face Miguel who was staring at the crowd before him, taking in his husbands words as he sighs with a small nod. “You make it look so easy.”
“But its not.” Y/n says. “It never will.”
Miguel lets out a dry chuckle his finger fidgeting nervously with his wedding ring. He’s suffered the most with the lose of his daughter. When he first introduced his daughter to Y/n when they were first dating, he was nervous at first only for Y/n to quickly fall in love with her, taking care of her as a parent and being there when Miguel couldn’t, deepening their relationship even more. Miguel had the family he always wanted only for him to lose it in a matter of seconds after his daughters death, pushing Y/n away and creating useless arguments with each other not knowing that he was pushing away the only person he ever had left.
Now, here he sat. Being given a second chance to start over.
“I’m willing to try.” Miguel whispers, getting Y/n’s attention who smiled at is husband, reaching out to take his hand into his own. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you on the way.”
#male reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x male reader#black cat reader#black cat marvel#spider man across the spider verse#black cat series#BlackCat tag
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kimi x toto wolffs daughter like fluff of their families and how they reacted and how they treat kimi
+ can you do a kimi antonelli oneshot where the reader is Toto and Susie's daughter and its when Kimi came to watch Jack's race (if you know what I mean) and him and reader are already together but it's just all adorable.
thank you!!
I've Never Lost (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Wolff! Reader)
Fandom: RPF/F2/F3
Requested: Clearly (I combined these two, hope yall don't mind)
Warnings: None
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 1191
Summary: What started as a family outing has turned into a bet, and Kimi doesn't lose.
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
~~(^Pinterest)
Ever since you were teenagers, it was a tradition to go out karting with your family. It was standard procedure to go karting during the off-season or non-race weekends. Granted, you were never a driver, but once you started dating Kimi, he said he would drive you around the tracks. Before you and Kimi started dating, you would just watch Jack and your parents race, but now, you were finally able to join in the fun.
It was the middle of summer break, and Kimi was leading the F2 championship and ready to sign a contract with Mercedes for 2026. It was time for your regularly scheduled karting competition.
This was the first time Kimi was going to be joining. You had told him before that you wanted to race with your family, so he made sure he would be able to go out with you and get to know your family as your family and not his boss.
“I’m gonna win,” Jack boasted as he led the way into the karting track. Your mom and dad laughed, following hand-in-hand behind him. You and Kimi were just behind Jack, chasing him toward the entrance of the track. “I’m gonna bet you and Kimi and Papa and Mama because I’m the best.”
“I bet you are, Jacky,” You laughed as you caught up behind him and threw him over your shoulder. Kimi fell back a little as he chuckled at your antics with your brother. He knew this was what you two were like, but it was always funny seeing it in person. It only happened a few times around the paddock since you two were more conscious of your images in front of so many cameras, but in the track in the middle of nowhere, you two were free to be as rambunctious as you wanted.
Jack and your parents never complained. You didn’t have the most normal childhood with growing up surrounded by fast cars that could kill you. You had nothing holding you back out here, and Jack loved to mess around with his older sibling.
“You better not go easy,” Toto chucked as he and Susie walked passed Kimi who had stopped and watched you spin Jack around upside down from your shoulders. How he got in that position, nobody knows. Kimi’s attention snapped over to Toto at that moment in confusion at first before he continued his advice. “They’ll both be mad if they find out you went easy. They’re both extremely competitive. And this is Y/n’s first time in a kart after some time, so you should make it memorable.”
“You won’t be mad if we win?” Kimi countered with a smirk. He had grown up around Toto and Susie enough to view them as second parents, but he also had to remember they were his bosses. However, right now is a family outing, not a work event. It was everyone for themselves.
“You say that like your double seater is going to beat three single seaters,” Susie laughed when she came back into the conversation with passes for everyone to get on the track. “But go ahead and think you still stand a chance.”
“Oh bring it on,” Kimi challenged as he held his hand out for her to shake, “Why don’t we place a bet? Loser buys dessert?”
“Just you and me or if any of us beat you two?” Susie teased before agreeing.
“I’ll take my chances with all three of you,” Kimi replied with a smirk since he couldn’t keep a straight face. He gestured down to his outstretched hand again, “So, do we have a deal?”
“Consider it made,” Susie responded as she shook his hand before handing him the two passes for you and him to get the kart. Kimi turned around to see you and Jack still messing about, so he went over to tell you what was going on.
“Jack, come over here,” Toto called, causing you to almost drop him, but you gently set him down on his back on the asphalt. Jack jumped up and ran over to Toto, thinking something was wrong. “We need to strategize.” Toto and Susie then took Jack down to the track and started planning for how they were going to win.
“Did we do something wrong?” You asked as you walked in step with Kimi and took your pass to show the marshals.
“No, but I made a bet with your parents, so they need to strategize,” Kimi explained as he threw an arm around your shoulder while you sat trackside until the session before you were finished.
“You? Made a bet? With my parents? Your bosses? Willingly? Who are you?” You joked as you placed the back of your hand on his forehead, checking for a temperature. “You don’t have a temperature. Are you sure you’re fine?”
“I’m perfectly fine,” He chuckled, pushing your hand away from his forehead and instead held it against his cheek. “You always say to let loose around them more. I’m just taking your advice.”
“You’re learning, I’m impressed,” You teased, moving your finger to tap his nose. “Next, you’ll be rough-housing with Jack and me.”
“I think I’ll stick with things that don’t hurt me,” Kimi scoffed with a smile as he pulled you closer into his chest while you watched the karts go around.
“Oh, and bets don’t hurt your pockets? I see how it is, rich man,” You joked as you leaned your entire body weight into him. “Do I at least get to know what the bet is before the race?”
“Loser buys dessert after,” Kimi chuckled.
“We’re in a double seater, dummy!” You exclaimed in shock. “They’re gonna be so much quicker than us! You made a bet you know you’d lose!”
“One, you underestimate my driving ability. Two, you think that wasn’t the point? Think how much harder Jack will try to win knowing there’s something at stake,” Kimi explained, and your jaw dropped. This reverse psychology was going to win your brother over in a heartbeat. “Plus, I know Jack and your parents are insanely competitive. I know you. They’re gonna do anything and everything to win, and it’ll be a real race.”
“You are crazy, but I love it,” You whispered as you left a kiss on his cheek before standing up and moving to the karts. You two put on your helmets and everyone took their places in their karts. Jack looked back at you and Kimi and signaled that he was going to catch you. Right as you sat down, you looked up at Kimi, who was still adjusting his helmet. “We’re not going easy on them though, right?”
“No never,” Kimi answered quickly as he took his seat in the driver’s seat. He fiddled with the seat and wheel for a second before the look in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking. “This is technically a championship, and I’ve never lost. Buckle up because you’re not breaking my streak.”
You tightened your belts and braced yourself. This was the best (and only) way to get back onto the track.
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
#andrea kimi antonelli x reader#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli#kimi x reader#prema team#mercedes amg petronas#formula 1 x reader#formula 2 x reader#formula 2#formula 1#formula 2 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1#f2#f1 x reader#f2 x reader#f2 x you#f2 imagine#f2 fanfic#bad268#ship268#thing268#toto wolff#wolff reader
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let the light in | haymitch abernathy
pairing: haymitch abernathy x fem!covey!reader
synopsis: deciding to indulge in old habits after a particularly hard night & glimpses of his past life, haymitch doesn’t expect to be comforted by the voice of a beautiful songbird in the hob of 12.
warnings: mentions of war, canon violence, ptsd, alcohol, mention of blood, flirting, age gap (reader is in early 20s), slight sexual themes, kissing, fluff-ish, sweet haymitch
song included: the ballad of lucy gray baird
a/n: this is something I’ve had for so long in my drafts & now that we’ve got the prequel announcement, what better time than to post it! <3
Maysilee’s loud screeches echo through the trees, the mockingjay’s repeating the blood curdling sound as they start to encircle him. Haymitch’s feet moving fast beneath him against the dirt trail in order to lose the career pack behind him. His movements beginning themselves before his mind can process them and the fact that she’s gone. The wind being his sole helper in drying the tears that threaten to keep flowing, catching a glimpse of his hands still stained red from the way he held her before she passed.
The only thing on his mind now being that he survives this, for her, for his family, for his district, and more importantly so he can show that they don’t control him.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor is what finally pulls his consciousness out of the nightmare of the arena. Flailing his arms around as if to protect himself from ever being touched again, haymitch is quick to his feet to stand up and surveil the empty dining room for the slight hint of the ghost of a past tribute looking to attempt to take his life once more.
He stands completely still as he finally takes into account his surroundings, his heart still pumping out an extra beat per minute and silently waiting as he catches his breath. it’s just a dream. you survived. you’re here. you’re home. He repeats the mantra in his head over and over again till it hopefully sticks this time.
It isn’t until he feels a slight trickle drip down onto the table that he sees the fallen glass shatter all over the floor and mixed with the hint of crimson from the shards stuck to his palm.
It feels like a cruel joke almost, a reminder. The blood that he’ll forever have stuck to his hands. The mess of blood that no matter how hard he tries to clean up will just keep flowing in an endless cycle no matter what he does to prevent it from happening again.
A bitter chuckle escapes him at the thought. Amused by his own misery and the situation he’s found himself in. He backs up and slowly treks himself to the kitchen sink to turn on the faucet, relishing in the slight sting that the lukewarm water elicits from his wounded hand.
A small price to pay for the families he thinks about every waking moment that he’s, no doubt, wounded for life by surviving the games against their children. Their loved ones that they’ll never get the chance to see again. Yet, whose faces and names haunt him every night since he’s stepped foot out of that arena.
The pain of not only them but his parents. His sisters. His girl. And Maysilee. Her family. People who he couldn’t save even here at home and after the games. All because he wanted to show them, the capitol, that they couldn’t control him they way they did everyone else.
The growing pit in his stomach now feeling inescapable the longer he stands in front of the running faucet. Shaking his head, he slams the faucet switch off, grabbing the alcohol beside him to disinfect the wound. Hissing and banging his leg against the drawer beneath his sink when when the liquid hits his palm. He slowly bends down to open the drawer and finds the bandaging wrap that he keeps for instances like these, which have happened to become routine for him. He bandages up the rest of his hand until he looks down and hums in slight satisfaction at his work.
As soon as he’s finished, his mind is already preoccupied with what the next choice, or beverage, of distraction he is in need of. It can’t be here though. Anywhere but the empty, cold house in the almost unoccupied, lone victor’s village.
Walking towards the front door, he quickly shrugs on a light coat and his boots. Stepping out into the cool, autumn night out in district 12. He continues down the path towards the main part of the district. Letting the sound of the wind be the only thing present in his mind before he decides to sit down at the hob and think more about his decisions in life so far.
As he nears the hob, he can hear the slight sound of music making its way through the open doors to the outside. Both young and old residents of the district out tonight and drinking, the only semblance of fun and normalcy you’ll find them indulging in despite the circumstances of their situations.
He walks in, immediately making a straight beeline towards the bar. Trying as hard as he can to ignore the lingering stares and pointed whispers of those who recognize him. The only lone alive victor of district 12. Eyes filled with both curiosity and pity as they follow his frame to the bar. All were surprised that he had decided to grace them with his presence for once. As his absence was growing long enough for him to almost be forgotten till the painful reminder on reaping day each year.
Haymitch settles onto the stool near the end of the bar, ordering whatever scarce brew is available for the night. Once it’s placed in front of him, it’s almost gone just as it was full. Already raising his hand to catch the attention of the bartender for another glass. Opting to ignore the judgmental stare and low warning given to him before the bartender hesitantly slides another glass his way.
Lost in thought of the nights earlier events and his second helping of beer, his mind is pulled away by the loud cheers of the people in the hob. Still nursing his beer, he takes a small peak from the corner of his eye to where everyone else’s attention is on to the girl twirling her way onto the stage with guitar in hand.
He’s a bit taken aback for a second, not ever having seen much of her before around the district or even hearing of her name. Yet, he might be the only clueless one as to who this girl is, he thinks. Spotting even, off duty peacekeepers who’ve decided to join in once they see the young woman take the stage.
“Well hey y’all!”, The girl beams, “Now just how might all of you fine folks out here in district 12 must be doing tonight?”
The crowd roars in excitement at the question. Never had he ever seen in life someone command the attention of a majority of a district in such a way that wasn’t related to the games. In a joyful way, nonetheless.
“Alright! Alright! Settle down y’all, I hear you all quite clearly, no need to go rupturing my ears now!”, You say as you playfully roll yours eyes at the crowd, “For those of you who may not know, or have been living under a rock, my name is Y/n Ivory!”
As the crowd around him laughs at the charming display of your personality in full force, Haymitch finds out he’s not immune to the power of your charisma either. He finds himself, still secluded in the dark corner of the room, cracking a small smile at your undeniable stage presence.
Pale white dress flowing freefully over your body landing just right above your knees with flowers woven through your hair and all. You’re the purest untainted vision of beauty he’s ever seen dancing in a place that has seen so much violence and pain as 12. It’s a wonder, he thinks to himself, how he’s gone so long without ever seeing or hearing of you.
He doesn’t know if he should be mad at himself for not getting out more or grateful for the fact that he chose to leave tonight. By having it lead him right here tonight as he watches you illuminate the room with every step you take and smile never breaking off of your face for even a second.
“Now don’t you worry, I’m gonna sing y’all a special one tonight,” you say, strumming the guitar as you continue to speak, “this one is a little tune some of you might know, a ballad we’ve all heard passed down, figured something slow is fitting for a nice night like this”
Haymitch watches you slightly clear your throat a little as you strum the chords on your worn leather guitar. He marvels at the intactness of it, such a prized possession to be in hold of that he’s sure has seen so much in its time. Figuring to himself that it has to be some sort of heirloom, as he knew at least no one, not even him, could afford such a luxury except if you lived in the capitol.
“ When I was a babe I fell down in the holler
when I was girl I fell into your arms
we fell on hard times and we lost our bright color
you went to the dogs and I lived by my charms ”
Your voice is sweet, he thinks. Melodically beautiful, just as he expected, yet it doesn’t take away his surprise nonetheless. The glide of the strings paired with your voice forces him to shake his head a bit just to make sure he wasn’t dead yet from the alcohol and your voice was mistaken as angel from above.
He concludes that regardless, there’s not much of a difference. As he takes in your frame, almost floating above the crowd as high as the sound of your lungs can take you, he figures that you might as well be an angel.
“ I danced for my dinners, spread kisses like honey
you stole and you gambled, and I said you should
we sang for our suppers, we drank up our money
then one day you left, saying I was no good
well, all right, I’m bad, but then you’re no prize either
all right, I’m bad, but then, that’s nothing new
you say you won’t love me, I won’t love you neither
just let me remind you what I am to you
‘cause I am the one who looks out when you’re leaping
I am the one who knows how you were brave
and I am the one who heard what you said sleeping
I’ll take that and more to my grave ”
The lyrics are familiar, he concludes to himself. He remembers the ballad well, one his mother would often sing to him & his sisters when they were younger. It would be a way for her to calm them down each night before a reaping.
He remembers the stories she would tell along with it, of how before the rebellion, there were these people who’d call themselves, “covey”, traveling from district to district singing to their hearts content for the enjoyment of others. She knew them well, she’d tell them. Telling them how the covey eventually settled into district 12.
His mother would talk about the nights where she would go to the hob and dance away. Making great friends with the girl who sang these infamous songs that had been passed down. The girl who also coincidentally introduced his mother to his father one night. Pushing his father until he asked his mother for a dance.
She would end each story by telling Haymitch, “well, now you know that you have someone to be thankful for making sure that you exist”.
The story seemed so mythical to him then, as it still does now. To think of a time when there was so much free will that people once held, especially outside of the Capitol’s restraints. To how something so frivolous as singing was enough to be one’s way of survival. A life of fulfillment and light melodies sung with no threat or existence of the games to ever ruin them.
The sound of Y/N’s voice sweetly coaxes him out of his thoughts. It is then, as he hears her, that he does believe in the stories. That if he continued to hear her voice for the rest of his life, it would be enough to ensure his survival for good. Not even the games would be enough to take him away from her. Not if he could help it.
This line of thinking scares him as it does entice him. He hasn’t felt this way since his first love, the one that they took away him. He feels like a teenager once again, heart practically bursting at the sight of the girl in front of him.
Her eyes roam the crowd as she continues singing, before they eventually catch his awe stricken expression. She smiles slightly, lightly fluttering her lashes at the attention. All before closing her eyes, swaying and losing herself in the music once again.
Not one for ever caring about appearances, he suddenly feels hyper aware of himself. He’s not used to feeling like this, he’s not quite sure how to process it. Just desperate, hoping that when her eyes linger a bit longer on him that she hopefully is feeling what he is too.
When she eventually looks away, he finds a part of himself chasing the high that she had bestowed upon him. Thinking how nothing could ever compare to the way he’s feeling now, not even the smooth liquor that would soothe his mind enough to make him forget things that have happened to him.
Now abandoning the half drank pint in front of him, he finds himself wanting to remember this night. This moment where he doesn’t need anything stronger than your presence to tell him that everything is okay.
The song ends, much to his dismay. The last few chords of your guitar lingering in the air before the hob breaks out in a harmonious applause, praises & hollers being shouted out your way. He watches you graciously thank the crowd, letting the band behind you take over. His eyes linger on you as you exit the stage, watching you laugh & thank everyone who meet on your way through the crowd.
It isn’t until he sees your frame slowly getting nearer that he suddenly feels shy, quickly diverting his attention down to his drink. Hands getting slightly clammy as he registers your sweet voice beside him, asking the bartender for a pint for yourself.
“Well my, my, to what do I owe the pleasure of dragging a victor out to one of my shows tonight?”, you say while letting out a slight giggle at the sight of him.
He’s a bit bewildered at first. Not exactly not knowing how to respond out of fear of embarrassing himself. His mouth slightly opens, letting out a playful scoff at the nickname victor, before replying back in the same playful manner you had.
“Just had to come down to hear what all the yapping around the district was about a pretty girl singing her heart out here each night”, he lightly flirts, hoping it lands well with her.
The action is thankfully welcomed as her laugh floats through the air. He wishes he could bottle the sound up so he could hear it over and over again.
“Now you’re just a peach aren’t you? Trying to butter me up .. hm?”, she says. Poking fun at his attempt of flirting before adding on, “And? Did I meet your expectations?”
His heart flutters at the question, chuckling to mask his nervousness that she so easily seems to trigger.
“That you did, sweetheart. Better than I could’ve thought”, he says, relishing in the way her wide eyed expression lights up at the praise he gives to her.
He feels himself mirroring her contagious smile. Nerves still present, but easing themselves when he sees her relaxing into his gaze.
“You’re a very sweet man, Haymitch Abernathy”, you tell him. Warmth slightly flooding your cheeks as his eyes remained fixed on you.
Quickly, taking the opportunity to glance away from the intense eye contact to take in the details about him. You take notice of the way his hair falls around his face, carefully framing it in a way that was too-professionally done to be of his own doing as the rest of the men in the district. A small testament to his time back and forth between his home and the calling of the Capitol. His slightly rugged appearance combats this, a small show of rebelliousness in the appearance the Capitol attempts to smooth over in a Victor, yet still seeming so distinctively him.
To anyone else, his demeanor would have been enough to ward off lingering stares here in the district. To you, it radiated a rare aura of comfort & warmth around him that you had never felt around another man before. You had wanted to get lost in it, envisioning yourself spending late mornings, running your fingers through his locks and humming a secret tune just for you both.
He chuckled dryly, swirling around the ale in his pint before glancing back up at you, “Sorry to disappoint sweetheart, tell anyone else here that and you might get a different answer”.
He watches as you cock your head to the side, a sly smile on your face, “Well good thing I wasn’t planning on asking anyone else”, sternness lacing your tone before scooting closer towards him, “Anyways, I think I like that I might be the only one in this damn district that can tell the difference”.
Haymitch could feel the way the way his heartbeat practically sped up, his hands fidgeting around the handle of the pint in front of him. Taking a deep breath before turning his attention back to the way your wide eyed gaze is fixated on him, eyes slowly analyzing him as if he’ll run right off. The thought crossed his mind for a minute, more so out of fear of embarrassing himself.
Taking a leap of faith, he brings his hand up to run his hand through a lock of your hair, tucking it behind the flower adorned between your ear. He hums at the pretty detail before plucking it to hold out in his palm, “A primrose?”.
You can feel your body still at the motion, warmth pooling in your chest at the feel of his hand. Carefully eyeing his expression, something that reads as a mixture of wonder and adoration at you. You remember to let out a small breath in the midst of the intimacy this situation, softly smiling as he hums in notice of the flower that lays against your hair.
“It was one of my mama’s favorites”, he can feel the wistfulness in your tone as you recall her, “She used to tell me stories of how my grandma and her great aunt would collect different flowers from their travels in the covey to use to bathe her and her cousins, since the borders between districts closed in the dark days, she gathered primroses here from the fields instead for me”.
He takes notice of the way you softly grasp onto his hand, your smooth palm contrasting with his hardened one and its tiny scars littered that hold unspoken memories of the arena. Your finger lightly traces the petals he holds in his palm, he watches as the mixture of nostalgia and sadness battle in your mind as you recall these memories.
Haymitch feels his own heart twinge, thinking back to what he can remember of his own mother, her voice, her stories, her mannerisms, anything. There’s a thick layer of understanding in the air between the two of you, unspoken feelings and experiences of loss and familiarity. The scattered chattering of the hob and instrumentals seem far away as the two of you take in each other’s presence.
He makes the first move to break the stillness between you two, bringing his hand back up to place the flower in your hair once again. You sigh softly as you feel his hand go to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb softly tracing back & forth on your skin. Haymitch feels the ghost of a smile threatening to overtake his lips as he feels your nestle your face further into his grasp before asking, “Would you wanna get out of here?”.
You softly nod at his question, not trusting your own voice to betray you and tremble at the delicateness in which he’s treating you. Standing up, you envelope your hand into his as his other finds it’s way onto your waist to lead you through the crowd. A motion so easily done as if it is second nature to you both. There is nothing but comfort and safeness in the act.
The cold air hits you both as you walk out, not feeling quite sure if the goosebumps forming on your skin is a result of that or the proximity of the man that still has a firm hold on you. You don’t seem to mind either way. You take a small peek over to him, watching the internal battle with himself as it plays on his face, eyebrows creased in deep thought. Yet still, he holds onto you, as if it’ll ground him.
You stop walking after a minute or so, watching the confusion in his expression as he snaps out of his thoughts. You pull him over to the small alley way, taking his face in both of your hands and forcing him to look into your eyes. His eyes trace over your questioning expression, taking a hard swallow before he speaks, “I .. I haven’t done this in a long time, sweetheart”.
“And what exactly are we doing?”, you say while lightly laughing.
He feels his nerves dissipate little by little at the sound of your amusement, still battling with the lingering fear in the back of his mind. He hesitates in his action, slowly leaning in to rest his forehead against yours, hands tightening their hold around your waist.
He can feel your breath hitch, your nose slightly touching against his own as your lips part, begging for him to make a move.
“If I do this, I don’t think I’d want to ever have another day where you’re not near me, at least to where I know you’re safe”, he whispers gently as his lips begin to ghost above yours.
“You won’t have to, I’ll be right here”, you whisper back. Your voice filled with reassurance and desperation, willing to give almost every part of you to him if it takes.
You feel the wind knocked out of you, as if you’ve forgotten to know how to breathe once you feel his lips against your own. Your mouths molding perfectly against one another as if this is what you’ve both have been waiting for your entire lives.
You whine softly as he deepens the kiss, his mouth claiming you with purpose. Whether it’s his way of subconsciously ensuring to himself that he won’t let anything happen to you or to convey his own worthiness to you, he can’t tell. The only thing taking up space in his mind being the way you sound as he familiarizes himself with you, tongue exploring yours while his hands grasp at your body.
You both finally break apart after what feels like an eternity, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. Unable to shake the burning feeling of that his lips left against yours in their wake. Your lids flutter open, already finding his gaze with what reads as both love and protectiveness staring back at you.
“I …”, he clears his throat before finding a way to gather the right words he wants to say to you. He goes over every possibility of what this could mean between the two of you, of letting you in. It would be easier if he could just act like this was meaningless, that he could walk away now and never think of it again. But as with everything else, he knows that you will ruminate in the back of his mind forever with no avail. Not now that he already has you in his arms.
“I won’t be able to give you much”, is all he is able to choke out. A twinge of disappointment lacing his words.
“That’s okay, I’m not looking for much anyways”, you hum. You tip your head up slightly to look at him, “Just want you, it’ll be enough for me”.
“Yeah?”, he says softly. His eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt, relief blossoming in his chest when he doesn’t find any. The only thing staring back him being the firmness in your vulnerability as you hold him in your palm. He pulls his hand from your waist to grab ahold of your hand against his face, bringing your knuckles to his lips, before leaning back in to press another kiss to your lips.
A part of him knows that it’ll always never be this simple. He will do his best to make sure he can protect you from what he can, if it ever comes to it. But right here, right now, in this moment. It’s not something even, Snow himself, can ever take from him.
#haymitch abernathy#haymitch abernathy x reader#the hunger games#tbosas#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#thg#thg series#sunrise on the reaping#lucy gray baird#maysilee donner#maude ivory#coriolanus snow
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Some IceMav head cannons I thought up as I drank my coffee this morning 💙
I absolutely LOVE icemav fics where there’s some soft domestic fluff in the mornings, like whether they’re 25 or 50, they’ll wake eachother up with soft kisses and snuggles.
Mav bringing Ice his coffee just the way he likes it, as they enjoy the morning before they have to get ready for work or (if they’re retired) maybe read the paper together and decide what to do that day. Ice wants to invite the daggers over for a home cooked brunch because even though he’s the COMPACFLT and acts all tough, he wants the younger pilots (their adopted kids) to have a nice home cooked meal every so often. Ice LOVES to cook for them. Plus he knows from years of experience that mess hall food isn’t always the best.
They love having them all over for game nights too, be it monopoly, life, scrabble, whatever game Maverick decides to pull out from his extensive collection (carrier life isn’t that exciting at times so I imagine he collected alot of board games over the years)
His favorite being an old beat up box of operation he and Goose used to play on the ship for HOURS, the gentle sway of the carrier made it all the more challenging and fun.
Ice even remembers getting wrapped up into a couple games with slider as well, he’s sure he lost hundreds of dollars to Maverick and goose with that damn game over the years 😂
They also like to invite the flyboys over for poker nights, barbecues, movies. Whatever they feel like doing that night.
Hollywood and Wolfman and Slider more than happy to come spend the evening with two of their oldest friends. A couple times they were even able to get Merlin, and Sundown over as well.
They held Cougars first grandkids birthday in their backyard. Complete with bouncy house and everything. Even though ice insisted “Maverick darling he’s turning one….i don’t think he’ll need a bounce house…” which was met with “cmon Tom please!”
Maverick ended up playing in it more than the kids did. And when the Daggers began to flow in you know that thing was filled with pilots. Chaos ensued and let’s just say Ice was worried he wouldn’t get the deposit back. But as soon as he seen the happiness on mavericks and the daggers faces his worried just seemed to melt away.
Wolf even managed to drag Hollywood in at one point.
Maverick loves pictures, he has ever since he was a boy and all he had to remember his parents were some photos. Pictures slowly began to fill their walls and countertops over the years. Old ones of his parents, Him and Goose or Goose and Carole holding Bradley when he was a baby.
Younger pictures of him and Ice, graduating Top Gun and several of their carrier missions that followed.
pictures from every single one of the daggers Top Gun graduations. Bob and Natasha’s wedding, Bradley and Jake’s engagement (soon to be wedding)
He and Ices official wedding photos (after almost 30 years once gay marriage was legalized)
Christmas photos of all of them surrounding the tree, they loved having a big family….it made their hearts soar.
#icemav#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#top gun 1986#top gun maverick#hangster#pete mitchell#tom kazansky#nick goose bradshaw#ron slider kerner#jake hangman seresin#dagger squad#86 flyboys
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🏀 buzzer beater | chapter SEVEN.
nba!gojo x manager!reader
summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.
warnings: language, so many character cameos, denial is a river in egypt, chaos. || sfw. 2.4k words.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE Utahime's not in this welcome party," Gojo grumbles as you descend the steps off the jet. You just snort, and then Yuji skips the last three steps and starts running across the tarmac. Nitta, despite your insistence that she didn't need to, has met you at the airport along with two of the Samurai players.
“Christ,” you say as Yuji drops his bag on the ground, leaving it unattended.
“Choso!” he shouts, practically leaping onto the player on Nitta’s right. The taller man has a mess of brown hair wrangled into space buns, and he ruffles Yuji’s hair when he sets him down.
“Good to see you before we beat your ass.”
The man beside Choso opens his arms expectantly. “No love for your brother?”
“Todo.” Choso crosses his arms. “I’m actually his brother.”
“Half,” Todo retorts.
“Half is more than you.”
“We’re bonded by the college oath,” Todo says solemnly, pulling Yuji into a hug.
“Kari!” you yell, and she grins and meets you halfway. “Oh my god. It’s been too long.”
Akari Nitta, your small forward in college and also your senior year roommate. “I missed you,” she says as she pulls you into a hug. “How’re the Sorcerers? You like it there, they treat you well?”
“Good, yeah. I’m happy,” you say, honestly. “You?”
Akari’s been with the Samurai for four consecutive seasons now, and you already know she has no intention of leaving. She loves it there, loves the team, and you can’t deny how excited you are for this round of the competition.
It’s the best kind of game, you think, when the teams are evenly matched and actually respect one another. But you’re still worried—the issue now isn’t that they’ll play dirty, like the Phantoms. It’s that they’re good. Really good.
“Nitta,” Kento greets, holding out a hand. “Good to see you.” He glances over her shoulder, at where Yuji is talking animatedly with Choso and Todo.
“You too, Nanami.” Nitta follows his gaze and chuckles. “Haibara’s wrangling the rest of them at practice. I said family only, and then Todo basically forced himself into the car. At some point it’s just easier not to fight him.” Kento chuckles and nods at Nitta before falling back in with the rest of the team.
Haibara played for the Sorcerers before getting traded a couple of years back. You don’t know him personally, but you know your team is very fond of him. Ieiri catches up with you and strikes up a conversation with Nitta, and the three of you follow the team through a wide hangar and to the line of vehicles waiting outside.
“Still think you should’ve stayed with me,” Akari tells you as you board the bus that’s taking you and the team to the hotel.
You grin. “It’d be preferable. But I have to babysit.” She laughs and squeezes you on the shoulder before pulling Choso and Todo away from Yuji, herding them back into the car to get back to their own team.
You watch the old city go by through the bus window, thankful you don’t have to try to navigate driving the streets of Savannah yourself during rush hour. The scattered horse-drawn carriages and swarms of warm-weather tourists punctuate every street corner, and though it’s nowhere near the same extent as the chaos of New York, you don’t envy the ones who have to focus on the roads instead of the river, running silvery-blue in the evening light.
Gojo briefly tries to sing again in the back of the bus, and he only gets as far as “concrete jung—” before somebody silences him with a thud that you assume is a backpack, if his offended squawk is anything to go by.
"What part of this place looks like concrete to you?" Megumi asks dryly.
Even the day before the game, you see Samurai jerseys and hats dotting the sidewalks, a few flags hung in the doorways of shops.
First seed, you think, staring out the window at the slowly darkening streets. You hope the team can pull through.
—
Iori Utahime is looking at Gojo like she’s going to castrate him on the spot.
“Utahiiiime!” he sings. “It’s been so long!”
“Not long enough,” she says, crossing her arms and turning up her chin. Long, purple-streaked hair falls past her shoulders, the back tied up in a bow you’ve never seen her without. “Any chance you’re less of a menace than you used to be?”
“No,” says a voice from behind you, and you’ve never seen a person’s entire countenance shift so quickly as Utahime catches sight of Ieiri and immediately breaks into a grin. She sprints toward her, launching into her arms.
“Shoko!” she shrieks, and Ieiri laughs and wraps her arms around her. “I missed you!”
“Utahime,” she says warmly. “How’ve you been?”
They launch into conversation—or, Utahime launches into conversation while Ieiri smiles pleasantly and nods along—and Gojo is forced to abandon his quest to annoy Utahime in favor of actually doing his job and playing basketball.
“She just doesn’t get me like you do,” he whispers on his way past.
“I don’t get you,” you retort, but he’s already gone.
The atmosphere in the Samurai stadium is entirely different than the rest of the games you’ve been to—this is a rivalry, sure, but a friendly one. Players greet each other across the court, the boys ecstatic to be reunited with Haibara, and the fans seem to be aware of the connections across the two teams. There’s significantly less hostility than you’ve gotten used to as the Sorcerers are introduced.
You catch a glimpse of blue hair in the front row of the home side and realize Kasumi Miwa is here. She’s already attracting quite a bit of attention, a massively successful WNBA player herself. You played with her in college, too, but you know she’s here for their point guard, Kokichi Muta.
Gojo stands at center court, ready to take the tip-off against Noritoshi, the other Kamo on the Samurai. You don’t remember quite how he’s related to Choso, but it’s amusing just how intertwined all the players on the court are right now.
For a second you think Kamo’s going to win the tip-off, but Gojo’s arm shoots up out of nowhere and then he’s running with the ball. He darts around Kamo and passes to Yuji, and the Sorcerers are 2-0 within the first thirty seconds of the game.
And then Haibara gets one in, and they’re tied. And then Gojo nails a three-pointer. And then Choso does, too.
Your neck is starting to hurt from how much you’re snapping it back and forth, both ends of the court in constant play as the advantage shifts every other minute. Megumi isn’t starting today, and you can feel his anxiety even from your place near the hall doors.
This game is insane.
Toward the end of the first quarter, Megumi subs in for Toge, and the second he hits the court he plays as if he never left. Kento lobs the ball his way and Megumi scores another three, and then Ino slips by Todo and leaps, fingers almost touching the hoop as the ball slams in.
It’s one of the tightest games you’ve seen in a long time. They’re always within five points of one another, back and forth, back and forth. The Sorcerers are leading at halftime by two, but it’s not a lead anyone is confident in.
While the team is back in the locker room, you slip over to the home side to talk to Kasumi. She grins and tugs you into a hug. “Alley-oop!”
You laugh, the stupid nickname so familiar falling from her lips. “Kasumi!” You pull back and smile. “How’re the Shadows? Do you love it? You fucking killed it this last season.”
She flushes a little, never having been big on accepting compliments. “Ah, I’ve got a great team.”
You arch a brow. “And they’re lucky to have you.” Taking mercy on her, you switch the subject. “So things with Kokichi are going well.”
She gets that dreamy look in her eyes, and you decide Kasumi and Muta are maybe the only couple you’ll accept being this fucking sappy all the time. They’ve been together since your senior year of college, and you’re pretty sure the basketball gods made them for each other.
“I think he’s gonna propose soon,” Kasumi whispers, and you have to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle a squeal.
“Kasumi,” you gasp.
She giggles. “Don’t say anything. He just can’t keep secrets from me. He’s not slick.”
You mime zipping your mouth and tossing the key, and she pretends to unzip it as she asks, “What about you? How are things in the Southeast?”
“Hot,” you say. “Humid. Busy. But good.”
“And Gojo?”
You blink. “Gojo?”
“Uh, y’know, star player, six three, easy on the eyes?” She raises her eyebrows like she knows something, and the implications hit you all at once.
“Oh my god, Kasumi.”
She blinks innocently. “Reunited after three long, long years. No romanticism in that?”
“We work together,” you hiss, which feels like a gross understatement. “And he’s…”
She raises a brow, waiting. You can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks. It’s such a ridiculous notion that you don’t even have a proper response.
“I honestly think he just became tolerable,” you say. “God, I wouldn’t date—”
“Oh, you say that now,” she says, a smug curve to her lips.
“What does that—”
“Oh, look at the time.” You follow Kasumi’s gaze to where the players have started filing back into the gym. “Back to your coworker, you.”
“Kasumi Miwa—”
“I love you too!” she beams. “Good to see you. Really.”
Rolling your eyes, you wave your left hand at her, pointing discreetly at your ring finger as you retreat across the gym. You watch as the bright red returns to her cheeks and return her smug grin from earlier.
God. Easy on the eyes.
It’s not like Gojo’s not attractive. Girls fawn over him and you can understand why, objectively. Tall, strong, all lean muscle, those stupidly bright blue eyes and whiter-than-white hair. But he’s one of those guys who’s just hot until he opens his mouth.
Even if he hasn’t been quite as annoying lately, the natural progression of a conversation about Kasumi’s soon-to-be-fiancé should not be to start talking about Satoru Gojo.
On the sidelines, he winks at you, and your roll your eyes but have to turn away before he sees the heat rising to your cheeks. Not helping right after Kasumi decided to put those thoughts in your head.
Fucking hell. What’s wrong with you?
You shake off the encounter as the game starts back up. You might’ve had the lead before the half, but the Samurai come back strong. Very strong. Todo is impossible to get around, he’s everywhere at once, and Muta is making shots from insane distances while Choso just keeps dunking. The disadvantage to having played with Haibara is that he knows the way the team plays, and he seems to have relayed whatever tips he can to his teammates.
But it goes both ways. Kento knows every shot Haibara will take before it happens, and Yuji and Todo are so tuned into each other’s movements that they can’t get the jump on the other.
It’s insane and it’s stressful but it’s damn good basketball. With damn good people, too. Yuta gets knocked down and Todo helps him back up. Choso keeps making faces at Yuji across the court. When Choso dunks right over Ino, you even hear Gojo let out a low whistle of appreciation for the shot.
When the buzzer signals the game’s end, the Sorcerers have lost by three. Muta scored the winning shot, and after the game is called he runs right off the court to sweep Kasumi up in a hug. Across the court, you see Gojo terrorizing Utahime again, Kento bumping fists with Haibara, Choso and Todo crowding Yuji as Megumi watches in amusement.
Nobara sighs as she looks up at the scoreboard. 81-78.
God, it was close. Really, really close.
It’s one game, you tell yourself. They can swing it. They’ve got time.
The mood after the game is a weird mixture of excited and tense—the guys knew they were walking into a match with a better ranked team, but now they’re feeling it. It’s the hardest they’ve had to play in a while, and Yaga and Kusakabe are talking strategy before they even hit the locker room.
You get back to your hotel room late, another night of emails and scheduling and a too-bright screen, and when you get back, Ieiri is smirking at you.
“What?”
She nods to your bed. “Had a visitor a while ago.”
You follow her gaze to a folded pile of blue and green fabric on the end of your bed, a note on top of it. “Oh my god.”
You know what that is. You’d know it from a mile away, because you wrote the renewal contract for it, because it’s been scattered throughout the stands at home games, because you’ve approved ads and worked on shoot screenings with Nobara.
The shirt is soft in your hands, and you pick up the note, scrawled on a piece of paper torn from the hotel notepad.
figured our star manager deserved free star merch, right? you’re welcome!!!!!!
His handwriting is messy and slanted, the line of exclamation points nearing horizontal toward the right edge of the page. It’s so incredibly boyish you have to stifle a laugh, and in place of a signature Gojo has doodled his own face in the corner: a little circle with spiked up hair and a black headband, tugged over his eyes like a blindfold. Probably because he didn’t want to deal with drawing eyes, you think.
The shirt’s in your size, a long-sleeve that starts out blue and washes into a light green in a vertical gradient. LIMITLESS is printed across it in a thin sans serif, a Nike swoosh twisted into an infinity sign above the T.
“Idiot,” you mutter. Star merch. Arrogant idiot who sneaks into hotel rooms to leave his own merch and assumes you want it. Actually, he probably knows you don’t. That’s why he didn’t give it to you in person. That makes it worse. He’s just taunting you in his typical Gojo way.
You toss the shirt into your bag and slide the note into your laptop case, not seeing a recycling bin. Ieiri chuckles, and you look up at sharply. “What?”
She holds her hands up, palms out in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”
When you try to fall asleep, staring at the shadowed popcorn ceiling, you’re reeling. Kasumi’s words pinball around your skull like it’s an echo chamber. The Limitless shirt sits heavy in your bag against the wall. Gojo winks in your mind’s eye. You feel his hand curled over yours, pen in your fist.
You hope you don’t dream.
directory. || prev. || next.
jjk taglist open: just send me a message!
@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan @theclassbookworm @lilactaro
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#megumi fushiguro#yuji itadori#ino takuma#nba basketball#yuta okkotsu#geto suguru#kento nanami#akari nitta#utahime iori#noritoshi kamo#aoi todo#kasumi miwa#kokichi muta#mechamaru#choso kamo#yu haibara#itafushi#shoko ieiri#nobara kugisaki#ryomen sukuna#toge inumaki#satoru gojo#jjk satoru
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hi! i just saw your post about your struggle with addiction, and it really resonated with me i guess, and i hope youre doing better now. ive been struggling a lot with being,,, lets call it ‘reasonable’ about my weed consumption and im feeling so overwhelmed trying to slow down with it and so ashamed that im even struggling with this in the first place, do you have any advice from when you first realized you had an addiction and like how you went about dealing with it?
im just really scared to ask my friends and family (outside of tumblr) for help because i worry that itll change how they think of me, or that theyll start treating me differently or something, especially because my parents are the ones who keep enabling this.
if youre not up to giving advice about this sort of thing i completely understand, and obviously our experiences and vices are very different, anyway sorry this is so rambly, and i hope you have a lovely week :)
An addiction counselor or a therapist might be better than me but I’ll try.
What has worked for me in the past with some things is removing the thing from my life completely and then later when I’m better seeing if there’s a healthy smaller way I can bring it back into my life.
Sometimes there isn’t. When it comes to opioids for example I can’t have those even once or my addiction immediately reactivates. Like with me it’s so fast. I become dependent on them immediately. Same with self harm. Hurting myself leads to my brain immediately wanting more of it to get rid of my emotions and it’s bad for my health so i just need to not do that.
When it comes to gambling and mobile games however I’ve been able to find a happy medium with that. I have maybe two mobile games I play that I don’t spend money on and I play more one time purchase games now without micro transactions. With gambling I put a hard limit on myself at 20 bucks a month and for the most part I’ve been able to stick to that.
Also I know that if I drink alcohol more than twice a week I’ll become addicted to it because I can feel it happening. So I just don’t drink more than once or twice a week.
You don’t have to go cold turkey. That doesn’t work for everyone. You might carefully measure out a ration for yourself for the month or week. You might not even have to give it up entirely. Or maybe you might.
I’ve found that talking it out with people in your life you trust can be helpful. The hardest additions to beat for me have been the ones I’ve never told anyone about. And part of the reason I’ve never become alcoholic is because I’ve told my friends and family about my problem and if I have more than three drinks at a party they know to tell me to cut it out.
I’ve found in general that people are more understanding than you think they’ll be. And if they aren’t then find someone who is. Even if they have to be a therapist or something.
I think the worst thing you can do when trying to beat an addiction or if you know you have an addictive personality is to isolate yourself. If you’re alone then it’s just you and your thoughts and your thoughts are what got you into this in the first place.
There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you find quitting hard. Addiction is hard. It messes with the pathways in your brain. It’s okay if it takes a while. Just keep trying.
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How Dethklok shows their love to you
Nathan Explosion
We all know about Nathan’s tendency to hyper focus on his current interest; mans got strong feeling and he wants to let everyone know just how happy you make him. So he shows you off, every chance he gets. Especially to the paparazzi. Once he’s settled into the relationship, he’s getting all cuddly and smiley in front of the cameras, quite rare for the media to see. He calls his parents nearly every week just to brag about you, it’s so sweet.
Motherfucking Nathan Explosion. One of the biggest names in the world, certainly the biggest in music and entertainment. A man who handcrafted a revolution of lyrics and rhythm. A man the world worships and the population craves. And yet, when he’s real smitten for someone, it’s awfully easy to make him shy. Just small, flirty things will get his face beet red and stuttering over his words in an instant, so incredibly enamored with everything you do. Whisper some sweet-nothings to him and he’ll become putty in your hands.
Nathan is very…specific when it comes to most aspects in life. He’s picky and stubborn and usually has his mind set for any decisions. But, you, as his S/O, own his utmost trust. So, before the final choice is made, he makes sure to get your opinion on it. Whether it’s small things or large decisions, he wants to hear what you think and will definitely take it into consideration. You have the ability to loosen him up on some settlements, much to Charles’ thanks.
Okay, the end of season 4 was an exaggeration, but Nathan does have a difficult time admitting when he’s wrong. Apologizing just really pokes at his large yet fragile ego. But, when he finally gets rid of some pride and realizes he fucked up with you, he’ll make the effort to apologize. Even if it’s not directly, you’ll get little gifts and gestures that lets you know that he really is sorry.
Pickles The Drummer
This one’s kinda silly, but here me out; Growing up, all of Pickle’s possessions were either hand-me-downs, stolen by Seth, or taken away as punishment from his parents. He didn’t get many stuff that was his. So, as an adult who could have all the material possessions he wants, he’s become a bit greedy. Until pretty lil you came up and stole his heart from him. At that point, he’s practically forcing himself to share everything with you. Food, clothes, anything. Something about seeing you with his stuff makes him feel really good inside.
Worries about you. Hoo-boy, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s got total mom brain when it comes to anxiety. Anytime you’re five minutes late or slightly more quiet than usual, he’s darting around, thinking that he somehow messed up and you hate him and now he’s gotta fix it. Please reassure him, he’s gonna give himself an asthma attack.
Pickles, uh, doesn’t have the best memory. Probably from the constant abuse of drugs and alcohol. I don’t think the dude knows anything that happened to him from age 20 to 25. But, he wants to make the effort. So, he’ll remember the little things about you, basic likes and dislikes, something you said, etc. When he acts upon it, like buying some of your favorite food, and you get all happy about it, he’s so proud of himself. He loves making you happy.
“Punch first, ask later. Or don’t ask at all.”That’s how he lives a whole lot of his life, especially in bars or parties. MF got some agitation issues. But when you get involved? Someone looks at you even slightly wrong? They’re getting their asses beat, he’ll defend the shit out of you.
In addition to that^…He’s definitely used to getting a ton of shit from his family and he just takes it. Because they don’t really like Pickles, there’s a good chance Seth and his parents will hate you and they’ll let you know it. This is when he cracks down. He yells at them for several minutes about what a wonderful person you are, what shitty people they are, and that they can talk about him all they want but not you. Definitely scares them straight.
Toki Wartooth
Oh, man does Toki love to spoil you! The way your face lights up when he manages to get you another perfect (and expensive) gift makes his heart flutter. He’s very good at it to; buying you things you didn’t even know you wanted but always cherish. He especially likes to get you custom-made stuff, something very cheesy.
He has a bit of a hyperactive mind, without something specific to focus on, he’ll constantly be bouncing around. But, despite this, he absolutely loves to listen to you in a way he can’t with other people. While he’s putting together a model or coloring or maybe practicing guitar (once in a blue moon), he likes to have you there, just ranting while he nods along. Even if he doesn’t get all the details, the sound of your voice is enough for him.
When you’re around him, he’s pretty much always going to be touching you. Sometimes it’s small things, like holding hands, knees together under a table, occasional cheek kisses. Other times, he’s practically hanging onto you like a sloth. Additionally, he absolutely loves to scoop you up at random moments and just hold you for a while. He’s strong, he can handle it.
It’s very clear that Toki is a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to love. Even if it’s unrealistic, he will often imagine a future with you, the classic getting married, having children, growing old. A nice, suburban, and perfect lifestyle. He knows that he can’t ever get rid of his rock n roll persona, but there’s a piece of him that’s completely dedicated to simply loving you for the rest of his days.
Skwisgaar Skwigelf
First of all; it’s going to take a while to establish yourself as more than just some sex to Skwisgaar. He needs to know you’re not someone trying to brag that they fucked a rockstar. Once he realizes that’s you mean something to him (and vice versa), he relaxes! He gets vulnerable, gets emotional and cuddly and more romantic than you’d expect! He no longer has to keep up the persona, you see the side of him that no one else really does.
Along with this, he’s willing to be more silly than with you! He’s got an even bigger ego than Nathan and hates to look like a fool in front of all his fans. But when he’s around you, he allows himself to make some jokes, mess up a few times and laugh about it. Seeing you laugh makes the small amount of humiliation worth it to him.
Skwisgaar has practically heard it all when it comes to compliments; he’s an international sex symbol and a music mastermind, after all. There’s nothing he hasn’t been praised for. So, he thinks it’s only natural that he compliments the hell out of you just like others do to him. From wake to sleep, he’s giving you all sorts of flattery on how you look and congratulates you on every accomplishment, no matter how small. He likes to feel proud of his darling and makes sure you know it.
Despite him having a long line of past lovers behind him, Skwisgaar gets jealous very easily. Call it a toxic trait, but he’ll flirt with anyone he sees while glaring at anyone who sees you. And his glares are proven to be lethal. Just be careful, cause he can have anyone he deems ‘too touchy’ with you assassinated with the flick of a wrist.
William Murderface
William thinks he’s soo lucky to have you in the first place, he practically worships the ground you walk on. His mind is pretty much on you every moment of the day; every dream he has at night is about you. He’s obsessed with the way you look, the way you act, he’s always staring at you with a dumb, happy smile on his face. Anything you need, he’ll make it happen for you.
I personally feel that he’s a lot smarter than he seems; particularly about history, historical weaponry, and cars. So, when he gets the chance, you get your ass he’s gonna rant to you about all the random stuff that’s up in his brain. He’s an extreme pessimist by nature, but when he’s speaking about the things he truly cares about, he’s seems so enthusiastic and energized, even more so when you actively listen and ask questions.
While Murderface certainly talks a lot, he doesn’t really…express, you know? Most of his conversations are surface-level and to the point. But when he’s comfortable with you, he likes to have deep conversations about things most people think he’s too stupid to care about. Ethics, philosophy, religion. He’s no expert, but everyone has their own beliefs. He wants to share his and to hear yours. Sometimes, he gets really into it, occasionally crying. These moments are important to him and he loves to be with you during them.
Let’s admit it; William isn’t conventionally handsome in anyway. A good reason for that is because he simply doesn’t care or have the patience for proper hygiene. Still, he wants to really impress you, so he starts taking care of himself more. He gets some better products, puts a little more thought into how he dresses, even eats slightly better. It’s not a big difference, but it’s something and it’s noticeable over time.
Bonus^ If you have a skincare routine, he’s going to be right next to you, mesmerized by all the creams and serums and cleansers. Even better if you apply some to him, he gets so soft.
#dethklok#metalocalypse#polyklok is real#william murderface#nathan explosion#pickles the drummer#toki wartooth#skwisgaar skwigelf#dethklok headcanon#metalocaypse headcanon#dethklok x reader#polyklok#murderface x reader#Nathan explosion x reader#pickles x reader#toki x reader#Skwisgaar x reader
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𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 - 𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
it's been almost a month since the whole "Victoria Kord Blue Beetle Fiasco", and Jaime has loads to sort out, especially since the new neighbour might not be what she says she is...
masterlist | next !
– pairings: jaime reyes x oc
– warning: fluff, canon divergent, blue beetle movie spoilers
– author's note: after watching the blue beetle movie, I've been so down bad for jaime reyes i had to make a one-shot series for him. disclaimer: i'm not of Hispanic descent and i have don't know casual terms spoken, so do correct me if im wrong!
The sun's heat beat down on the hot sand, heat waves radiating off the ground from the high temperature. A winding tarmac road lay between the plains, and a little vehicle sped down it, emptiness surrounding them.
“Mama, how much longer until we get to… Palmera City?” The woman drawled, picking up a pamphlet in her right hand, and pulling her wireless headphones down with the other.
“We're pretty much there, Drea,” A woman replied, hands on the steering while and eyes trained on the road. “We’re almost there.”
“Why can’t I just fly there myself? You and Amma can take the car. I’m twenty Ma, not five,” Drea huffed, neatening out her ruffled ebony waves. “You taught me how to fly when I was ten, anyways.”
“Kanna, you don’t even know where Palmera City is,” Another woman turned her head in the passenger’s seat to face her daughter in the back. “And you don’t know where the house is.”
“I do know where it is, El Paso Street, Palmera City.”
“Which house then? And you only knew Palmera City from the pamphlet,” The woman driving chuckled. “Besides, don’t you like spending time with your mamas?”
Drea said nothing in return, grumbling and pulling her headphones back over her ears, blasting her music at almost full volume.
“She grew up too fast,” The other passenger sighed, her hand on her forehead. “When did she become twenty? Remind me, please.”
“She turned twenty almost two days ago, aṉpu,” The driver grinned. “Did you forget that she almost set the house on fire when we told her about the move?”
“Please, don’t remind me, Zara,” Anika sighed at her wife’s entertainment. “I’m still drained from all of the mess I had to clean up after.”
“Nika, we’re moving, new people, new sights to see, and new opportunities for a good life for you and me. For our family,” Zara, the driver, smiled softly. One of her hands slipped off the driver’s wheel, encasing itself around Anika’s smaller hand.
“Besides, Drea needs a job, something that can keep her steady until she finds out what she wants to do,” She shrugged. “And Palmera City might have everything she needs.”
“‘Might have’ are the keywords.” Anika’s worried eyes met Zara’s calm ones. “If it doesn’t? Then what? She’ll just, what, fly alone to a new place?”
“Probably. But that’s okay, I was her age when I came here, and I needed something new. Something different. And then I met you, and I felt love for the first time,” She winked, her wife flushing.
“Oh stop it you, focus on driving!”
“Alright, alright. But you get my point, right?”
“Yeah… I do."
“Until that happens, if that ever happens, we’ll be just fine.”
“Hermano,” Milagro huffed, her hands forearm deep in water as she held a plate in her hands, holding it up to her brother, who was staring out the window in curiosity.
“Jaime,” She called out once more, her brother still unresponsive, the girl’s patience snapping. “Earth to Jaime Reyes!”
Jaime jumped slightly, taking the plate, gaze focused back on the window while muttering apologies to his younger sister.
“Sorry, sorry,” He wrapped the plate with the cloth in his hands hurriedly.
“What’s got you so distracted?” Milagro frowned, peering over his shoulder to see a moving truck parked outside their house. More accurately, in front of the empty house across the road from them.
“Oh, new neighbours,” She nodded, taking another soapy plate to rinse off from her mother.
“I wonder what they’ll be like,” Bianca Reyes hummed, handing Milagro another plate.
“It’s about time someone moved in that house,” Milagro chirped. “That house has been empty for as long as I can remember."
"That's not true," Jaime glanced at his sister. "Mrs. Diaz lived there for a while before her son moved out."
"Oh yeah… But that was still ages ago. So my statement still counts."
Jaime playfully rolled his eyes, a smile faint on his face. Glancing over, Milagro questioned her brother teasingly.
"Why are you staring there so much, anyways? Did you see Jenny?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
"What? No, no. We're just friends," He huffed.
"Sure you are."
"No, look. Khaji-Da scanned their moving stuff—"
"Woah! Boundaries, hermano!"
"Exactly! But she did it somehow and she warned me about them."
"What? Is she saying that they're villains? Like Jenny's crazy aunt?" The girl beside Jaime placed a hand on her hip. "C'mon, they're new neighbours, how bad can they be?"
"Pretty bad," Khaji-Da chimed in Jaime's head, her host glaring.
The rest of the day proceeded to be uneventful. After dishwashing and tidying up after lunch, Jaime hadn't done much other than trying to find work or helping his mother around the house.
Occasionally, Nana would come around for a drink while taking a break from her sewing, and Milagro soon joined Jaime in his room, the two job-hunting together. Uncle Rudy was… well, somewhere working on "an upgrade for the truck Jenny had gifted", according to him.
If he could, Jaime would have described the atmosphere as "chill and somewhat productive".
His mind drifted from the list of temporary jobs he could apply for on the site he sat on to the whole "Blue Beetle Fiasco" over a month ago. To the friend he hoped would be something more, until she, in the nicest way possible, tried to turn him down.
"Jaime, you're thinking about Jennifer again."
Instantly, he shook his head, trying to refocus his attention.
"Nope, nope. I'm completely focused. See? I can qualify for a…" He narrowed his eyes, reading the word his pointer was aimed at. "Chiropractor? What, no—"
"You need to move on, Jaime. The positive is that Jennifer is still your friend. You have more responsibilities."
"Yeah, and I'm doing it with Mili," Jaime then looked around him, wondering why his sister's questioning and prying hadn't begun.
"Milagro had left to get a drink, while you were busy 'looking for jobs'," Khaji-Da chimed in, rubbing in her point before her host could ask.
"Thank you, Khaji," Jaime huffed sarcastically. "How long has she been gone for?"
"Ten minutes."
"That long?"
"You were deep in thought."
"Got it," He grumbled, pushing himself off of his bed to find his job-hunting partner. "Mili!"
He called out his sister's name, hoping to find her peering around a corner in response, but was returned with nothing, not even a single quip.
"Mili?" Jaime frowned at the lack of noise in his home.
"Nana? Uncle Rudy?"
Seeing that no one was responding, Jaime narrowed his eyes, his mind darting to the worst-case scenario.
"Khaji, can you scan or locate where my family is?"
"Your mother—"
"Jaime! There you are!" Bianca cut Jaime off, her son relieved to see that she was alright.
"—is right here."
"Thank you for the… status, Khaji," He whispered before smiling, letting out a sigh. "Mama, where's everyone?"
"They're outside, greeting the new neighbours!" She furrowed her brows, a smile still gracing her lips. "I thought Mili told you? Oh, I'll talk to her about it later, come come! Let's meet the neighbours, yes?"
She grabbed Jaime's upper arm, rushing out to meet up with the rest of the family.
"Jaime, meet Mrs Tlatilpa, and her daughter, Alejandra!" Bianca smiled.
Jaime smiled over at who he assumed was Alejandra, as she did look quite a bit younger than the woman beside her.
Taking in her appearance, he noticed that she almost looked Hispanic, like him, though her skin was slightly darker. Her hair remained wavy and was a dark shade of brown, pretty much black if he hadn't noticed it against the sunlight. If he looked close enough, he noticed that she had a few strands of braids tied together here and there.
She tilted her head as her wireless headphones covered in vibrant stickers were plastered all over, covering the brand's logo, and it seemed like stars — he noticed a few hand-sewn ones on her baggy jeans — seemed to be her favourite pattern.
Triangle earrings glinted in the light as her dark brown eyes watched him in curiosity. If he looked close enough, he could almost see sparks of red—
"You're staring, Jaime."
He flinched from Khaji-Da's comment, holding his hand out to shake hands, the woman across from him doing the same.
"Reyes, my name's Jaime Reyes," He nodded, putting on his best smile.
"Alejandra Tlatilpa. But you can call me Drea," She nodded respectfully before switching her glance to his shoes. "Cool shoes."
"Ah, uhm thanks. Not my favourite pair, but they serve their purpose," He chuckled, almost sadly as he remembered the fate of his now-incinerated favoured shoes.
"She's dangerous," Khaji-Da pointed out, Jaime's brows furrowing.
"What? No way," Jaime muttered, Drea, blinking in confusion.
"I'm sorry?" She questioned for clarification.
"No, sorry, I uhm… just a habit of mine, I talk. To myself," He quickly responded, his smile turning awkward.
"Right," She pointed a finger, nodding once more. "Got it. Don't worry about it, we all have our habits."
"Look at the two of you getting along!" Mrs Tlatilpa grinned. "Kanna, why don't you go get Mama? I'm sure she'd love to meet new people."
"Yeah, sure," Drea chirped, smiling one last time at Jaime. "See you around."
"So, your wife?" Bianca questioned, her eyes curious.
"Ah yes, it's a long story," Anika laughed nervously.
"No, no worries! In fact, would your family like to join us for tea?"
gif by @rob-pattinson
taglist: @mooncleaver < comment/dm me if you'd like to be on the taglist! >
#blue beetle#blue beetle 2023#jaime reyes x oc#jaime reyes x reader#blue beetle jaime reyes#blue beetle movie#blue beetle slight spoilers#jaime reyes#milagro reyes#bianca reyes#khaji da#oc#ocs#blue beetle oc#sam writes !
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Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Game - Family Relationships
In TCM the game, each family member has unique dialogue when interacting with each other. Going through all of them it is clear who does and doesn’t like each other, so I’ve decided to note it down here.
*Added Hands’ voice lines.
*Added Johnny’s voice lines (towards Nancy.)
*Added Chop Top voice lines (directed towards him only).
Cook:
Leatherface: Cook always seems rather annoyed by Leatherface and most of his voice lines directed towards him are angry insults. He is always yelling at him, mostly for things such as destroying the house.
Hitchhiker: Cook does not like Hitchhiker, he is always bossing him around and yelling at him. Unlike Hitchhiker who enjoys the thrill of the chase, Cook is completely stressed out about the whole ordeal and hates that Hitchhiker isn’t taking this whole thing seriously, yelling at him to stop being useless and to stop getting excited.
Sissy: Again, Cook spends most of his time yelling and bossing her around. He doesn’t seem to hate her more or less than the others but he does constantly bring up her running away, showing he still holds a grudge about this. He also blames her for this whole mess, along with Johnny even though it doesn't seem like Sissy was the cause at all. Out of all the people he speaks to, he seems firmest with Sissy and whilst he does still yell at her, he has more voice lines were he firmly talks to her instead of all his lines being aggressive insults.
Johnny: Bro he fucking hates Johnny. All of his voice lines directed towards him are insults for being the cause of all this. He is yelling at everybody but he is mostly mad at Johnny, and 100% blames him for this situation. He also brings up Johnny even when he’s not in the game, he’s just that mad at him.
Nancy: All of his lines towards her involve him insulting her parenting and telling her this is all Johnny's fault. He also bosses her around with the notion that it's his house so he's in charge. It seems he doesn't like Nancy all too much, or is just mad he thought she'd raised Johnny better.
Hands: So, Cook is unsurprisingly pretty annoyed by his presence. It seems like in the lore, Hands literally just shows up to their house unannounced and then joins in the hunt, which obviously annoys the already stressed Cook. He doesn’t seem to despise him exactly, however they also don’t seem close, which fits since he’s a distant cousin.
Chop Top: Similar to how he talks to Hitchhiker, he yells and berates at Chop Top. He clearly doesn’t like him that much, and is annoyed by him fucking around. He calls him a hippie and threatens to beat him up a lot. He also insults him getting discharged from the service, and insults his twin brother whilst insulting him.
Leatherface:
Cook: It’s a bit hard to tell Leatherface’s opinions most of the time because he is non-verbal, however since most of his interactions with him are Cook yelling at him, Leatherface usually only responds in angry grumbles implying he doesn’t like being bossed around.
Hitchhiker: His opinion on Hitchhiker seems to change a lot because their interactions are very random. It’s like a brother’s quarrel, one second they’ll be yelling insults at each other but then the next second Hitchhiker is cheering him on. Because of this, Leatherface changes from annoyed grunts to excited grunts, seeming to mostly like his brother, but doesn’t like being yelled at.
Sissy: Sissy is the only family member he is 100% on good terms with. Sissy is completely supportive of him and usually compliments him with sweet words so most of his interactions with her are wholesome and cute, with her cheering him on and him getting happy and excited with her around.
Johnny: A trend you will begin to notice is that almost everybody fucking hates Johnny. Leatherface, again, doesn’t speak so it’s hard to understand entirely what his thoughts on him are BUT no matter what he is always annoyed or angry at Johnny, and since Johnny is basically his cousin he isn’t that close to him at all.
Hands: So Leatherface and Hands seem to have a nice relationship. It’s hard to tell exactly since both characters don’t speak at all, however it’s canon that Hands giving a ripped-off face to a young Leatherface is what caused his whole… Leatherface thing… so they must be somewhat close, even if they hardly see each other.
Hitchhiker:
Cook: Because Cook is the head of the household, and the most “sane” out of the family, Hitchhiker doesn’t like him that much, however, he spends most of his voice lines asking what he's cooking or firmly telling him to stop bossing him around. He is probably the least rude character towards Cook honestly.
Leatherface: Hitchhiker's attitude towards Leatherface is pretty positive. He spends all their interactions together, complimenting his skills with a chainsaw and cheering him on. He asks for Leatherface's help with getting these victims and he even badmouths Cook to his face. They're on pretty good terms.
Sissy: Sissy is the family member Hitchhiker seems to like the most. He sometimes yells at her, mostly about running away, but a majority of his voice lines towards her are cheerful and supportive, with her being the only family member he tells about his grave-digging hobby (likely because everybody else would get mad since it could lead to them getting caught.) He also tells her that he thinks he and Sissy are Grandpa's favourites and he compliments her dress, especially after believing she stole it from a previous victim.
Johnny: Unsurprisingly, Hitchhiker’s opinion of Johnny is rather negative as he constantly argues with him and says he ain't so tough. Since Johnny is basically an outsider to the rest of the family, Hitchhiker just doesn’t like him and mostly just insults him, however, he does have one positive interaction with him, this being him asking Johnny if he takes pictures of the people he kills.
Hands: Hitchhiker likes Hands, and looks up to him like an Uncle. He mentions going to see his races, and also expresses adoration in the way Hands beats people up with him being so big and strong, and it’s clear he likes him.
Sissy:
Cook: Sissy’s opinions of Cook are that of a rebellious teen VS their parents. She thinks he’s a useless old man and doesn’t like that he's constantly bossing her around and threatening her with his broken broom handle. She seems to mostly blame him for her habit of running away, though she probably means the entire family and isn't just singling Cook out.
Leatherface: Sissy adores Leatherface, and she always makes sure to compliment him or say something supportive, even if she’s busy. There’s a slight chance she’s being sappy on purpose to incentivise him to work harder, but it seems she is genuine and is just that sweet.
Hitchhiker: Her relationship with Hitchhiker is rather positive, she spends most of her voice lines with him, complimenting his graveyard artworks, promising not to rat on him and saying they work well together. Sometimes she gets mad and yells at him, but that’s usually after he gets on her nerves, other than that she’s completely chill with him. Though she does mention he keeps messing with her flowers, but all things considered she doesn't seem too pissed about this.
Johnny: To nobody’s surprise, she doesn’t like Johnny. She yells at him a lot and insults him, but interestingly she seems to know him a little more than Hitchhiker and Cook, since she mentions “always cleaning up his messes” implying she’s gotten into trouble with him before. Mostly she yells at him for calling her crazy or bossing her around.
Hands: Sissy doesn’t seem to like Hands that much. She isn’t that close with him since she’s been away from the family for years, so the last time she saw him she was probably a child. She insults him a lot and seems rather mad at him, and doesn’t find him threatening despite him being like 7 feet tall.
Chop Top: Surprisingly, Sissy talks to Chop Top like she’s never met him. Like, ever. Which is weird since he’s Hitchhiker’s twin, they definitely should know each other right? Anyway, she seems to like him, as she compliments his hippie clothes and feels bad when she finds out about his metal plate.
Johnny:
Cook: Johnny hates him. He thinks Cook is old and weak, and insults him for not being able to run things properly. He also doesn't like being bossed around.
Leatherface: He doesn't talk to him much, and when he does he usually just yells at him to use his saw and kill people. It doesn't seem like he's trying to be rude, but he ends up coming off as rude when he bosses Leatherface around.
Hitchhiker: He's normally pretty chill with Hitchhiker. He calmly asks how he makes his traps and compliments how shifty he is, but he also seems rather awkward around him likely because they aren't close. It's like he's basically trying to converse with a distant cousin. He also yells at him for his body language and his stutter.
Sissy: He is rather rude to Sissy, yelling at her and bossing her around the most. He thinks she's insane and isn't listening to him and is getting frustrated with her. He also brings up her running away, showing he still has a grudge about that.
Nancy: So the new update finally added voice lines for Johnny towards Nancy and whoo-boy. Anyways, from these voice lines it seems like Johnny doesn't like his mother as much as you'd expect, in fact, he seems to despise her. None of his voice lines towards her are loving or happy, and they mostly come down to him telling her to let him go and that he's not her little boy anymore. He also holds resentment for her scarring his face years ago and clearly hasn't liked her all that much ever since that happened. From the way he speaks, it seems he really wants to just yell at her, but can't because of two things. #1, they're currently chasing after victims and it isn't really the best time to drop everything and have a family quarrel. #2, he's still scared of his mother and even though he clearly resents her, he doesn't want her to scar him again.
Hands: Suprisingly, Johnny seems very close with Hands. It’s likely that since Johnny and Nancy aren’t part of the main Slaughter’s, they’re closer to more “distant” family members like Hands. Johnny seems to view Hands as a father figure. None of his voice lines towards Hands are rude or insulting, and all of them are rather calm. He also brings up Hands teaching him everything he knows, which makes it obvious he respects Hands as a mentor.
Chop Top: Weirdly enough, he seems to like Chop Top? Despite not really liking Hitchhiker? He does call him a weirdo, and brings up his wig, but both times he compliments him and the only rude thing he says to him is “What kind of getup you wearing?” referring to his hippie fashion. Perhaps he would be nicer to Hitchhiker had he not been the one to tell him about Nancy, idk.
Nancy:
Cook: She yells at him for trying to boss her around and argues back to him when he says she didn't raise Johnny well enough. She then says he didn't raise his brothers well enough either and just seems altogether frustrated about being bossed around since usually she's the head of the household.
Leatherface: She’s supportive of him but not in the same way Sissy and Hitchhiker are. Sissy and Hitchhiker are genuinely nice towards him and cheer him on, whilst Nancy seems to just be calmly bossing him around, telling him to do stuff not sweetly and not angrily just… firmly. It almost seems like because she's not as close to him as the rest of the family, she doesn't want to yell at him because well... he is holding a big chainsaw.
Hitchhiker: She does nothing but yell at him to do his job and stop being so crazed, sharing mostly the same opinions as Cook where she thinks he is enjoying this a bit too much considering it could lead to them being caught.
Sissy: She despises Sissy, probably the most honestly. She yells at her for running away and calls her a heathen and devil girl, implying she is a devout Christian. Sissy has no voice lines talking to Nancy, but from how Nancy "responds" to her, it seems Sissy brings up her murdered husbands and thinks Nancy is a useless nobody. Nancy is also the only family member who hates that Sissy came back at all. Sure, Cook and Hitchhiker get mad at her and bring up her running away, but none of them ever said they wished she'd stayed gone.
Johnny: Unsurprisingly, she is super supportive towards her son and all her voice lines are her firmly asking Johnny to help her. She talks to him like he's a little kid which is interesting, but Johnny doesn't have any voice lines talking to her so it's hard to know how he feels about this. *UPDATE: He now has voice lines towards her.
Hands: Nancy does yell at Hands, and boss him around HOWEVER, most of her lines towards him refer to Johnny. It seems like she doesn’t particularly like him, however she knows Johnny respects him so asks for his support anyway.
Chop Top: Oddly enough, she seems to like him more than Hitchhiker, stating he shouldn’t hang around his brother who will get him into trouble (despite them both being basically the same lmao.) She brings up his metal plate, but not in a sympathetic way. She seems to think he’s insane but somehow likes him more than Hitchhiker, probably due to the fact Hitchhiker was the one who told Johnny her secret.
#slasher#horror#fun facts#texas chainsaw massacre#texas chainsaw massacre game#the texas chainsaw massacre#tcm#tcm game#the texas chainsaw massacre game#sissy sawyer#johnny tcm#johnny sawyer
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could you write more yandere elder or tsundere elder pls 👉👈 ty ty
Yandere elder yautja part two
A/n: I make these too long and they get so off topic sometimes. Hard warning they aren’t really in order but then again they kind of are…
He takes you hunting and makes you watch him kill whatever it was he was killing. He rarely goes, you might as well go with him and see that he is a worthy mate.
If he’s a bad blood there’s a good chance he’s killed a good amount of people who’ve looked at you.
He sleeps on top of you so you can’t get up in the middle of the night.
If something were to ever happen to him he has it set to where you’re passed down to his children, they’ll ‘keep you safe’ until you eventually die.
Once again if he were bad blood instead of passing you down he’d just kill you himself, only if he knew he was certain of dying of course.
He leaves marks on your neck, they can range from bite marks or just pinches from his mandibles.
He makes you wear his jewelry, if they're heavy he’ll hold them up while you wear them.
If you let him dress you, he takes his time. He sets your foot on his knee while he ties your shoe, when he puts your pants or shorts on he likes to sit on the ground and sit back with your waist in his hands admiring what’s his. When he puts a shirt or tank top on he likes to nip at your shoulder blades or give your shoulders a little squeeze.
He will braid your hair if it’s long enough.
He takes you to meetings with him, sitting you on his lap and rubbing up and down your spine.
If he has to leave to go supervise a chiva or host an event, he’ll lock you up in his big house till he gets back. He has you wear a necklace that tracks your location so if you were to leave or be taken he’d know and boy would he be racing to get back to see what the deal is.
If you miss your family he’ll take you to see his family.
You’ve most likely met his very old mom.
If you do escape he will catch you, you can’t run far. He’ll pick you up by the ankle when he catches you, then he’ll just carry you on his shoulders back to his house.
Kind of a what if but, what if human hearts beat faster than yautja hearts? Kinda like a young person and an older person's heart.
When they first lay their head on your chest and hear your heart beating fast, they almost got their heart broken. They had thought you were scared of them or feared them hence the fast beating heart, but in reality yours just goes faster.
He will get it checked though just in case.
In the mornings he stays on top of you until he thinks you’ve gotten enough sleep.
You will catch him rolling in your dirty laundry, he’s so obsessed with the smell of you.
He walks around naked a lot and encourages you to do it too.
If you're out with him and see a bigger/stronger yautja he practically shoves you in his coat and speed walks away.
If the yautja approaches he will put on the most fakest persona as he interacts with him, he notices the way the other male looks at you, he’s not stupid.
The next day he smothers you with love, he makes you breakfast, brings it to your shared bedroom, he feeds you. He does everything in his power to make you forget about the other yautja, it doesn’t matter if you don’t have an interest in the other male, he will still make you forget about them.
If something really bad happened to you, he would become a bad blood in order to kill the threat. You're more important to him than some ranking or title, he doesn’t care if it’s a pregnant female , he will rip the infant from her womb and make her watch him kill it. No one messes with his ooman.
Being an elder he most likely doesn’t hunt as much, so instead he might have taken up a hobby like golfing or crafting. He’d make you things if you wanted something.
He’s got bank, he’s got quite the money to blow and he’s willing to blow it all on you. You have this man wrapped around you little pinky.
If he had lips it would be over for you, he would kiss you throughout the day. Kissing your knuckles, your hands, your lips, shoot he’d probably kiss your feet if you asked him too.
He does like your feet. They are soft and small compared to his grippers. You might wake up to him at the foot of the bed feeling your foot.
He smells your hair throughout the day. It’s subtle but it’s there; it could be a passing by or if he’s hugging you he’ll rest his forehead on the back of your head. To others it looks sweet but in reality he’s getting a good ole wiff.
Buy him a wedding band or just any band. It’ll be with his money but who cares, as long as he doesn’t see. Maybe get down on one knee and present it to him, he’ll probably be fangirling on the inside. He’ll let you put the ring on.
He has a collar for you. He doesn’t use it but it’s there. The only time he used it was when he first brought you to prime, he had you on a leash so you didn’t run off in public.
He’s a little delusional, you can sometimes use this to your own advantage if your careful enough. 
#yautja x reader#yautja#writing#yandere yautja#monster boyfriend#monster#elder yautja#yautja yes#yautja boyfriend#yautja stuff#yautepec#predator#he’s a little coco for the coco puffs
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Sibling! Animatronics 🎮🧡🤎💛💜
for -🐯
Out of all of them, Freddy acts the oldest/“most parental” towards you. Making sure you don’t hurt yourself or wear yourself out too much.
Making sure you take care of yourself too is another thing. They might be animatronics, but he’s always checking to see if you ate or drank enough water. Stuff like that.
That being said, they each take turns taking care of you and each other. They’ve been around each other for so long, they’re basically family at this point. And with you as their new friend, it’s even more prevalent.
All four of them are masters at pretend games. So whether it’s playing something like pirates, astronauts, fairies, or whatever, they get into it.
Forts!! Forts are a must and each time they build one, it gets more creative and elaborate. Sometimes they’ll take up an entire room. They’re the best spots to play in though.
Bonnie and Chica love the arcade! Bonnie’s usually more competitive over who’s winning and has the higher score, but she’s more happy to just play them. Whenever you’re playing a two-player game, he’ll brag about him winning, but you usually end up beating him. Especially when you and Chica team up against him.
They’re really the most “sibling” out of them all. Sometimes they’ll mess around with you, but mostly they love playing with and protecting you whenever you get scared.
All of them play and are good at their respective instruments, but Foxy’s the most musically inclined I feel like. He’s not part of the main band, so he has his time to shine in pirates cove. Sea shanties, your favorite songs, lullabies, he loves singing in general, and with you, it’s even better.
Also, the best playmate. Whatever idea you come up with, he’s the first to join in and just rolls with it. No matter what it is, as long as it’s not (too) dangerous.
They all love watching the things you draw and join in too as well! They praise and occasionally tease you at how much better you are than them. And whenever you’re done with an art project, they hang each one up either at the stage or on the walls a Somewhere that’s visible so they can see them all and praise you the next time you come back.
#request answered!#agere writing#writing requests#fnaf agere#fnaf agere headcanons#Sibling! Animatronics#my writing#agere blog#sfw regression#sfw agere#special interest#five night's at freddy's#five night's at freddy's movie headcanons
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Entropy impacts your fantasy world
Entropy infects all systems. Things wear down, and either collapse or shake apart into new configurations.
Fantasy worlds are divided into a series of ages, where myths are split apart from legends and history. They might look like this Middle-Earth inspired history (at least my high school D&D campaign world did):
First Age - Gods walk the earth, or make the world. Evil gods are dealt with or bound.
Second Age - The great civilizations flourish, items of remarkable power of crafted and legendary battles occur. Famous institutions like kingdoms, and bloodlines are established.
Third Age - Not as epic, as the first or second age. The hero grows up on a farm or distant location and learns about the age of magic. Perhaps they’ll inherit a sword or learn lost secrets. There are ruins everywhere. Some dark threat left over from the second age will return and be dealt with. Perhaps the hero will reconnect with one of the elite institutions established in the second age.
Fourth Age - The age of magic ends, and everything changes. Elves sail away, gods leave the world, and hand it over to people, who, live in wisdom and peace and tell stories about the good old days to the kids.
This is also a metaphor for human life. The first age is childhood when you believe impossible things and dragons, the second age is when you’re young, fighting for your passions, the third age is when you get your job and learn how the systems of the world work. And the fourth age is when you’re paying off the mortgage, and you don’t have time to play D&D anymore or read books, but you’ve got fond memories of those days and will tell your bored family members about the good old days.
Let’s cut to 2020, COVID era. I’m in the fourth age of my life. During lockdown, I work through a bunch of intense personal stuff. One of them is that my epic fantasy novel series is doomed not to be finished in its current state—it’s lost in a muddle of endless rewrites. The book had lots of POVs, good character work and world building, but not much of a plot apart from an expedition across a continent. Time to recognize that it would never be done. I’ll never be Brandon Sanderson. (At least with that book.)
I get out my shotgun, place the barrel against the malformed, beating dreams of finishing that series, and pull the trigger.
Time to reboot. Start something else. I need to create I can finish. Shorter, less epic. Except, being one of those eternal gamemaster types, I can’t tell stories without a world.
Yeah, I could build any world I want and—my subconscious wants to design a setting in a fantasy world’s fourth age. When I was younger, the concept of the fourth age horrified me. Who’d want to tell stories in a world where the magic went away, and everything was about modern life, office workers and cars?
Now, I find that interesting. Because the past is a magical one, right? How would that influence the modern day? And how did the magic leave the world? What if something went wrong with the final epic battle between light and darkness? What if losing magic was a last ditch strike? A nuclear option. Not a gentle fading of magic like in Middle-Earth—a planned obsolescence—but a catastrophe mess that broke the world.
And what if magic survived, but became hidden, messy and complicated?
So that’s the key idea I had when designing my world. Modern, yet with a hidden layer of magic.
Now to figure out what that looked like. And what sort of stories would it drive?
How about you—did you build your world by thinking about this sort of thing to start with (themes) or did you start with some other idea? Or even a sense of a character or a vision of a scene? (I love the story by CS Lewis how his initial idea for Narnia was simply a mental picture of Lucy and Mr. Tumnus walking arm-in-arm through a snowy wood...)
#writeblr#fantasy books#worldbuilding#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#fantasy#fantasy writing#urban fantasy
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if ur requests are open rn will you write something abt gareth’s family and the reader? it can be like meeting them once you’ve started dating or later on or anything. loved ur last fic !! thank u !!!!
i want you to meet my family.
gareth emerson x gn!reader
word count: 1,487
warnings: swearing, reader is anxious and a bit shy, meet-the-family jitters, tooth-rotting fluff, gare being sweet and lovey
a/n: hi!! thank you for your request my sweet!! i’m so happy that you liked my last fic! means the world. i kind of went for a shy and anxious reader, so i hope that’s okay!! for context, i’ve given him: mom, stepdad and two younger sisters. i tried to leave them unnamed so that you can call them whatever you’d like! i hope this turned out like you wanted! <333
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“I want you to meet my family.”
You practically choked on the hot chocolate he’d fixed you. That should’ve been your first clue anyhow. He was buttering you up.
Coughing, Gareth’s hand rubbed and patted your back, the other taking the mug from you and setting it down before you spilled.
His words caught you off guard—god forbid you sit with your boyfriend and not expect anything to happen. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Gare, I’m fine.” You weren’t fine. The waver in your voice gave you away.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet Gareth’s family, because you really, really did—what with all he’d told you—and you had this urge to get to know that part of him too. You found it comforting that he wanted you to meet them.
You were just nervous. You weren’t good with new people, and these were more than just people. They were Gareth’s people.
But meeting them only made sense, especially when you could feel yourself falling more and more for him every minute.
The both of you hadn’t been together officially for too long, and had definitely been relishing in the fact that it was just the two of you and there wasn’t any pressure. This, however, was pressure. Lots of it.
“Can you look at me, pretty please?” You shifted, the two of you now sitting cross legged and facing each other on the couch. He held out his hands, which you dramatically slapped, eliciting an ever more dramatic hiss from him, before he clasped your fingers in his.
You focused on the silver ring resting on his middle finger while he spoke to you. “You know I would never want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. But I-I want you to meet my family, because you’re my family too.”
His kind words were flustering you, so you continued to fidget with his ring and started chewing on your bottom lip, biting down in hopes that the sting of tears would go away.
“It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. I’ll bring you home like usual, there will just be other people there. I don’t want you to worry about whether they’ll like you, even though I know you’re going to, but—they wanna meet you too, sweetheart. You’re my whole world, you gotta know that.”
You did. Lifting your head, you met his gaze. His nose scrunched in greeting. You leaned in to kiss it. “Okay. I trust you, Gareth.”
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“Breathe. Here, with me, okay?” Gareth stood with you in the driveway, holding onto you and trying to soothe your nerves.
You knew there was nothing to be scared of. You’d heard nothing but good things about them, about how much they meant to Gareth.
But you couldn’t help that your heart was beating so fast it hurt and your hands were shaking and you felt a little dizzy. There was so much going on in your head—always—and what if they could tell you were a mess? Maybe they’d think you weren’t right for their boy.
Stop, you told yourself. Breathe. Gareth’s gentle hand on your collarbones brought you back. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Will you hold my hand? Please? Please don’t leave me.” He held back a wince at seeing you this way.
“I’m never gonna leave you, my sweet.”
Gareth led you up the few steps to the door and inside, just like any other time you’d been over. Your stomach sunk when you heard voices coming from the kitchen. As if he was reading your thoughts, Gareth turned around and kissed your cheek. “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m right here.”
You nodded, afraid your voice would fail you, and he took that as his queue to head off.
Entering the kitchen, you found his stepdad and youngest sister working on a puzzle, both settled at the table. His mother was preparing cookie dough, his other sister sat on the counter beside her, presumably licking cinnamon off of her fingers. From what you could smell, they were snickerdoodles. Those were your favorite.
Gareth tugged you into him, and you hid a little against his side. “Hey, guys,” his voice cut off all other noise in the kitchen, four heads snapping up at once.
Gareth’s mom smiled brilliantly at the sight of you, and she hurried to wipe her hands against the little waist apron she was wearing before tugging it off.
“Hi!” She exclaimed.
The youngest of his sisters leapt from her place on the counter, sprinting to her brother just after his mom made it to him. His mother kissed his cheek, giving him knowing and thrilled eyes. Gareth groaned exaggeratedly as a little body smacked into his legs, “Hi, bubba!”
“Hi, squirt.” He ruffled her hair and you watched in awe, your attention shifting as his mom turned to face you instead.
You let go of Gareth’s hand, trying to be brave because she looked so kind. He took that as a signal to let you. An I’m okay gesture.
This woman was not scary. Her eyes were that same sweet blue as her son’s, her curls just as unruly, though tied up at the base of her neck.
“Hello, my love! It’s so nice to meet you! Can I hug you? Would that be okay?” She raised her hands a little, hopeful.
“Sure you can,” you responded, smiling genuinely. My love, she’d called you. You were suddenly overwhelmed with how nice it felt to be welcomed and cared for so instantaneously.
Gareth’s mother pulled you in for a hug, warm and grateful, swaying you gently in her arms. She pulled back, still smiling, eyes shining with it. Turning her head, she checked that Gareth wasn’t looking—he wasn’t, head bent to look at the puzzle on the table. “You know he never shuts up about you?
“Really?” You grinned at her, feeling your cheeks heat up, but delighted nonetheless.
“Really!” The sound of your joint giggles made Gareth turn around, his stepdad and sisters following his return to you.
“I don’t like the sounds of this.” He said it with a smile anyhow.
“Hey, kiddo.” Gareth’s stepdad found you, and gave you a short, but kind hug. He smelled faintly of cigarettes, yet it was comforting. You caught a glimpse of a tattoo sleeve under the edge of his sweater, and hoped you’d remember to ask about it later.
You hadn’t expected this glasses-clad, teddy-bear-looking man to have tattoos. “It’s true, by the way, he really doesn’t shut up about you.”
Gareth ran a hand down his face and you laughed softly, albeit slightly worried about would he could’ve said.
Both of his sisters approached you at once, the younger with messily braided pigtails, the older with a head full of crazier and more tightly coiled curls than both Gareth and his mother combined.
“You’re very pretty,” the younger one said, holding her arms out for a hug. You obliged her. “He said you were pretty. You are.”
“Thank you. So are you.” She smiled gratefully and looked up at her older sister expectantly.
The latter grinned just as kindly as all of the rest of them, holding out her hand, hoping you’d trust her and take it. “Are you any good at puzzles? Gareth sucks.”
“Hey! I do not.” You chuckled at their banter.
“He does,” she told you, attempting to whisper, before settling on the bench and doling you out some pieces.
The rest of the day went perfectly fine. You’d never felt more at home than you did with Gareth’s family. They welcomed you and loved you immediately and wanted to get to know the person who was making their boy so happy.
————
Your car was in the driveway when Gareth pulled up. He wasn’t sure why—he hadn’t asked you over today—not that he was totally upset by it.
He made his way down the hall to the kitchen where your familiar voice rang out.
You looked up at his entrance.
“Hi?” He questioned, tossing his keys on the counter.
He found both of his sisters and you bent over the kitchen table, spreading puzzle glue on yet another puzzle that you’d finished together.
“I know. They called with an invitation and a puzzle completion notice.” You turned to the sister on your left. “Here. If you move around a bit, the light catches and you can check for any spots missing glue. Sound good?” She nodded enthusiastically and you moved away.
Gareth pulled you in for a hug, mumbling a “Sorry,” under his breath.
“‘S okay, really. Also, apparently I’m going to a ballet recital tonight.” Gareth tossed his head back, laughing brilliantly at your situation.
He’d told you they’d love you, and they did. He just thought it was funny that now you had to go through all the things that he did.
But you didn’t mind. Not really. Not when it was your family too.
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please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#gareth emerson#gareth emerson x gn!reader#gareth emerson x reader#gareth stranger things#gareth emerson x you#gareth emerson comfort#gareth emerson fic#gareth emerson fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#savannah’s fics
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