#except if you’re Dutch you MUST know

[f14fun]

pixelated love (!simmer x mv1) - chapter 8

synopsis: in which the famous three time world champion max verstappen wants to learn how to play the sims 4. except, he doesn't really know how to. so what does he do, search up a youtube tutorial. low-and-behold, y/n's video is the first he watches.

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જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

The funny thing about catching feelings is that you never know when the walk becomes a stroll, then a jog, and eventually turns into what seems like a never-ending chase.

It’s a flurry of emotions, each step more fervent than the last. At first, you might think it’s just a casual stroll—something light and easy, just taking in the sights and sounds. But then, it evolves into a leisurely walk, where you find yourself more invested, more attentive to the nuances of the path you’re on.

As you get more involved, the pace quickens, and suddenly, what was once a gentle amble has turned into a brisk jog. Your heart starts to race, and every moment feels charged with potential and possibility. The thrill of the chase sets in; you’re no longer just moving along the path but running towards something that feels both exhilarating and daunting.

And just when you think you’ve reached the peak of intensity, the chase turns into a marathon. The emotions swirl around you like a storm, sometimes exhilarating, sometimes overwhelming. It’s as if you’re in a never-ending pursuit, where every stride is driven by hope, fear, and anticipation. It’s a whirlwind of highs and lows, where the finish line seems perpetually just out of reach.

The moment I truly felt my peak of intensity was the moment that I landed in Nice, France, ready to embark towards my ultimate destiny: Being the ultimate Monacan WAG. If you truly believed that last statement, dear reader, I must call you gullible.

Anyhow, the Nice Côte d'Azur Airport had welcomed me with open arms, giving me the twenty kilometer leeway of relief before I was due in the beautiful Principality of Monaco.

And don't get me wrong, but I was scared.

The facade that I put up everyday on stream, on social media, was only a fraction of who I really was. I was left wondering to myself in the hours leading up to meeting Max, "Would he really like me for who I was? What if this was one humongous joke I was apart of, and I was doomed to be the laughingstock?"

Arriving in Monaco, surrounded by its opulence and charm, only heightened my feelings of vulnerability. The grandeur of the setting made my personal fears feel even more pronounced. Would the real me, with all my imperfections and uncertainties, measure up to the expectations set by the facade I had carefully crafted online?

To be put simply, I was only a girl. And I really, really, really hoped that multimillionaire Dutch Formula One racer Max Emilian Verstappen would take pleasure in meeting me.

I had texted Max how I should meet with him, nonchalantly, of course. But on the inside, my palms were sweaty. I was nervous. In person, I wouldn't say I was the best flirt. I was more like that one twelve year old boy at the pool trying to impress a friend group of sixteen year old girls.

I fumbled on my words. I tripped. I missed. I blushed. I ran. I wept about my mistakes, and kept thinking what the absolute fuck did I just say? Why did that just come out of my mouth? I am stupid. I am so stupid.

Simply put, I didn't have much rizz.

Honestly, if I could headbutt myself, I definitely would. I had set myself up for utmost failure for acting like a confident prick, over text, over stream, and over Twitter. I acted like I had it all together, but in reality, if a tall, handsome guy were to actually approach me, you’d see me stumbling over my words and turning into a nervous wreck.

It was pathetic, really.

And oh my gosh, dear reader, if you had seen the look on my face when I had Googled Max Verstappen for the first time...

It was shameful, I will admit.

Learning that he stood six inches above me at his 5'11" stature... I was blushing in the comforting shadows of my bedroom, fearfully gripping my phone, as if Max himself was going to suddenly appear in my room and catch me red-handed, shamelessly watching edits of him.

Hiding under the covers at two am before a long day at work, and pondering if his big, big, bicep muscles from holding a steering wheel all day could eventually hold me in his comforting grasp. Daydreaming, in the middle of meetings with high-end game-development executives, if I could sudden run into his chest and have him hug me until I couldn't breath. Wondering, if I could sit on his thighs one day, and using his veiny hands, he could hold me by my waist and his steamy breath talk into my ear.

Yeah, I get no bitches and I'm horny.

It's pretty obvious to y'all at this point. Don't be a mean girl and judge, though.

And with all of these thoughts, I am not afraid to think them. In the shower, making dinner, watching him race...But it was all put in perspective when I stood outside of his apartment door, waiting for him to let me into his home.

It felt private. Intimate. Different, than all the displays of affection and joyous laughter we shared with the public.

But now I was in the comfort of his home. No prying cameras (at least I hoped that there were no hidden cameras), away from the never-ending watchful eye of the public.

The first thing I noticed about him were his eyes. They were a piercing, greenish, blueish, grayish color—a mix of the sea and comets, a blend of colors I couldn't quite put my finger on.

It was like they held the depth of the ocean, the intensity of a storm, and the mystery of the cosmos all at once. In the soft light of the doorway, they seemed almost otherworldly, drawing me in with their enigmatic allure.

Many people online had said that these eyes were constantly hardened, a result of years spent racing under intense pressure, dealing with tough words from his father, and the unwavering support and strength he garnered from his sister and mother.

They were eyes that had seen the highs of victory and the lows of defeat, that had faced criticism and expectation head-on, and had come out stronger on the other side.

These eyes told a story of resilience and determination, of someone who had been through the wringer and had emerged with a steely resolve. The internet was filled with tales of his focused, almost intimidating gaze on the racetrack, where every glance was calculated and every blink was a strategy.

They spoke of a man who had to grow up fast, who had to build walls to protect himself from the harsh realities of his world.

But when he looked at me, I could swear that I saw them soften.

They drew me in, and for a moment, I knew I could write poetry about them. There was a story in every shade, every flicker of light within those eyes. I could imagine penning verses about their depth, their history, and the way they seemed to hold entire worlds within them.

Suddenly, all my nerves and the fear of being a fumbling, awkward mess seemed to dissipate, at least a little. There was something in the way he looked at me that made me feel seen, like he was looking past the persona and seeing the real me. It was a mix of relief and disbelief, like maybe, just maybe, this wasn't going to be the disaster I had built up in my head.

I had never believed in the saying, "love at first sight", but I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat, if not multiple, when I locked eyes with him. Like I predicted, he was a tall, tall, man. And I, like a lot of people in this world, was not immune to the charm of a tall man.

"Oh, you are very tall," I blurted out.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. The words had slipped past my tongue and out of my mouth, bypassing the more sensible part of me, aka my brain. Damn you, stupid weak heart.

I could feel my face heating up, a wave of embarrassment washing over me. Out of anything I literally could have said, my intrusive thoughts had gotten the best of me. My inner voice was screaming at me to pull it together, but it was too late. The words were out there, hanging awkwardly in the air between us. My poster slumped slightly, there was literally no way to recover this. I desperately needed to find a galvanized stainless steel block to bash my head against repeatedly.

Max chuckled softly, a sound that somehow made me feel a bit more at ease despite my flub. "And you must be Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Welcome."

Taking a deep breath, I tried to regain my composure. "Yeah, that's me," I said with a small, nervous laugh. "Sometimes when someone makes me hella nervous, it just happens, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" I started, but he cut me off gently.

"I make you nervous?" He smirked at me. "Well I didn't know that."

Okay. Cut the cameras, deadass. I quite literally felt like I was a main character in that weird-ass phone game Episode (yes, my guilty pleasure at three am but nonetheless a fun hobby to have) It was like one of those cliché moments where the charming love interest says something flirty, and the protagonist’s heart skips a beat. Except this was real life, and my heart was doing somersaults.

I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, there was a small part of me that felt… excited? Maybe this wouldn't be a complete disaster after all. Trying to play it cool, I flashed a shy smile. "Yeah, well, you're pretty intimidating in person," I said, hoping to keep the conversation light.

"I cannot believe you said that, I'm just a really big cuddly bear," Max laughed at me, opening his arms out for a hug.

For a split second, I hesitated, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts. But then, the warmth in his eyes and the genuine smile on his face melted away any remaining nervousness.

Stepping forward, I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his strong yet gentle embrace envelop me. It was like being pulled into a cocoon of safety and comfort, his presence immediately soothing the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

As we hugged, I felt the tension in my body start to ease. His arms were warm and reassuring, a stark contrast to the anxiety that had been gnawing at me since I landed. In that moment, it felt like all the awkwardness and worries faded into the background. It was just the two of us, sharing a simple, sincere connection.

The hug lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough to make me feel grounded and welcomed, a silent promise that maybe this really was the beginning of something special.

And I did believe him, that he was just a really big cuddly bear. His laugh was warm like honey, and I could definitely get used to hugging those biceps and burrowing my head in his chest, like a teddy bear. All I could think of was the moment I whipped out my phone to get on Twitter I would tweet, #needthat.

What???

I'm just a girl.

"You're really fucking cute," Max suddenly stated, his soft voice interrupting my daydream.

Wait wait wait what?? Backtrack please?? Did Max Verstappen just call me cute, as he leans on the fucking doorway and I can see his biceps bulge as he-

Noticing my shocked expression, and my jaw must have been hanging out for a considerably long time without responding, he started to laugh at me.

"I hope I was the first person to tell you that today," He continued.

"Y-you certainly were the first person to say that, oh my," I sputtered, a creeping blushing arising from my neck and blossoming onto my cheeks.

Max's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stepped closer, closing the distance between us. "Well, it's about time someone did," he said, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "I've been looking forward to this moment for a while, you know."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure. "You have?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper. The bold, flirtatious Max standing in front of me was a stark contrast to the more reserved person I knew online. It was disorienting, but also incredibly intriguing.

This side of him was magnetic, drawing me in with a mix of confidence and playfulness that I hadn't anticipated. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, the realization hitting me that the dynamic between us had shifted entirely.

Online, I had always been the one with the witty comebacks and cheeky comments, but now, standing here in his presence, I felt like I was discovering a whole new dimension of our connection. His boldness was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, making me wonder just how many other surprises he had in store.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. "Seeing you now, in person, you're even more stunning than I imagined." He leaned in slightly, his gaze never leaving mine, and I felt my heart race faster with every passing second.

"Oh, wow, um, thank you," I stammered, feeling my shyness take over. It was surreal—here I was, the one who had always been confident and playful online, now reduced to a blushing mess in front of him.

Max chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the role reversal. "You know, I always found your confidence online really attractive," he said. "But seeing you like this, all shy and flustered... it's pretty adorable too."

I bit my lip, trying to steady my nerves. "Well, you were always the cool, mysterious racer," I said, attempting to regain a bit of my former bravado. "It's kind of unfair that you're also charming in real life."

He laughed, a rich, warm sound that made my heart flutter. (And I could swear I could hear hundred dollar bills when he laughed) "Guess we both have our secrets," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But I have to say, I kind of like seeing this side of you."

"Yeah?" I replied, feeling a small surge of confidence. "Maybe you'll see more of it, if you keep being this sweet."

Max took a step closer, his presence enveloping me like a warm blanket. "Oh, I plan to," he said, his voice low and intimate. "Getting to know the real you is something I've been looking forward to. Online was fun, but this...this is so much better."

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again, but this time it was mixed with excitement. "Well, you better keep up the charm then," I teased, trying to match his playful energy. "I'm not that easy to impress, you know."

He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Is that a challenge?" he asked, leaning in slightly, his proximity making my heart race even faster.

"Maybe it is," I said, my voice daring but my insides turning to jelly. "Think you can handle it?"

Max grinned, his confidence unwavering. "Oh, I know I can," he said smoothly. "And by the end of this trip, you'll see just how serious I am."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of anticipation and thrill coursing through me. The flirty banter, the unexpected boldness, and the undeniable chemistry between us—it was all so intoxicating. As I looked into his eyes, I realized that this was just the beginning of an adventure that was sure to be full of surprises and unforgettable moments. Spending time with Max felt completely different from any of my past relationships.

There was a new air about him, a different kind of electricity that sparked between us. Unlike the fleeting attention I had received from past lovers, who barely gave me a minute of their day, Max's presence was all-encompassing. He made me feel seen and valued in a way I hadn't experienced before. Each moment with him was charged with genuine interest and warmth, making me feel like I was the only person in the world.

The thought of what lay ahead made my heart race with a mixture of nervousness and exhilaration. I knew that being with Max would be an experience unlike any other, a journey where we would both reveal our true selves and create memories that would last a lifetime.

Don't call me naive, dear reader, because in the moment, it truly felt that way to me...And I really hoped that he felt the same too.

"Alright then," I said, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. "Game on."

Max's smile widened, and he extended his hand. "Game on," he echoed, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me as our fingers intertwined.

"Come on in," he said, leading me into his apartment.

As soon as we stepped inside, I realized that 'apartment' was an understatement. The place felt more like a huge penthouse rather than the modest apartment he had made it out to be. It was luxurious yet still quite plain and humble, a reflection of Max himself. The high ceilings, expansive windows, and elegant but understated furniture gave it a sense of grandeur without being ostentatious.

The living area was open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, a sprawling panorama of twinkling lights and distant landmarks that seemed to stretch endlessly. Despite the grandeur, there was an inviting warmth to the space. The furniture, though minimal, was meticulously chosen—sleek modern lines with plush, comfortable seating that suggested a home where one could truly relax.

As we moved through the apartment, I noticed the subtle details: a few well-placed art pieces, not too many, just enough to add character without overwhelming the space. The kitchen was state-of-the-art, with shiny countertops and high-end appliances, but it was evident that Max wasn’t a chef—there were no intricate gadgets or utensils, just the basics. The sparse decorations spoke volumes about his personality: practical and unpretentious.

"Wow," I said, looking around in awe. "You really weren’t kidding when you said you had a big place. This is incredible."

Max shrugged, a hint of embarrassment on his face. "Yeah, I guess it’s a bit bigger than most apartments," he said with a sheepish grin. "But, as you can see, I didn’t exactly go all out on decorating. I’m not really into interior design and don’t have a clue how to make it look... well, more 'homey.'"

I laughed, finding his modesty endearing. "Well, if you ever want to change that, I’m your go-to person," I offered playfully. "I could definitely give this place a bit more personality."

"Oh, really?" he asked, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. "And what if I said I might be more inclined to actually spend more time here if you did?"

I grinned, feeling a spark of excitement at the prospect. "Challenge accepted," I said. "I’ll have to draw up some design ideas for you. Just don’t be surprised if you come home one day and find your place looking like a completely different world."

Max chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Are you saying you’re going to turn my penthouse into something out of a magazine?"

"Something like that," I replied, trying to keep a straight face. "But with a touch of ‘Y/N’ flair. I promise it won’t be all pink and sparkles—unless you really want it to be."

"I think I'd rather die," He rolled his eyes, making me a victim of the sassy man apocalypse. Letting out a sudden bark of laughter, my eyes widened, surprised at the ugly ass noise I just let out.

"Wait no I take it back, it would be way better if I just paint it neon green and tweeted #BratSummerTakeover," I laughed.

"This is way worse than the pink what the hell..." Max laughed at my antics. Finally, he was matching my freak!

"Honestly, CharliXCX and Brat Twitter would probably save you if you got canceled, just because you made your apartment Brat themed," I countered, eye brows raising and daring him to challenge me.

"What would I even get cancelled for? Being too devilishly handsome, maybe," He asked, smirking at me.

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, and I knew I was blushing a lot. "Well, maybe," I stammered, trying to regain my composure. "Or for making girls like me turn bright red with just a few words."

Max's smirk widened, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "I think I could live with that," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But seriously, I like seeing this side of you. It's cute."

I blushed even more, trying to deflect the compliment with humor. "Well, you might get canceled for making me turn this red," I quipped, feeling a bit bolder. "And for having terrible taste in decor. Honestly, who wouldn’t want a neon green penthouse? It’s the height of fashion."

Max shook his head, still laughing. "Okay, okay. Maybe we should stick to something a bit more... timeless. How about a black and white theme? Classic, elegant, and less likely to blind anyone who walks in."

I pretended to consider it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, that could work. But only if we add some gold accents. You know, to bring out the sparkle in your eyes."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Gold accents, huh? You really think my eyes sparkle?"

"Like diamonds, just like that one Rihanna song," I said, batting my eyelashes and throwing my hands up in a dramatic fashion. "But seriously, I think we can make this place look amazing. Just trust me."

Max smiled, his gaze softening. "I do trust you. And I’m actually looking forward to seeing what you come up with. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," I said, leaning in closer, our hands brushing against each other again. I was literally going bonkers from the sexual tension between us two, and I wasn't sure how long I could take it for the next week, before the dam overflowed. And trust me, I don't mind if this dam overflows. Wink wink.

"Promise me you won’t turn it into a jungle. I don’t think I could handle that much greenery," he said with a playful wink.

I laughed, nodding. "Deal. No jungle theme. But I can’t promise there won’t be a few plants. They add life, you know?"

Max grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Alright, a few plants I can handle. Just no turning my place into a botanical garden."

I gave him a teasing look. "You never know, a few well-placed ferns could really spruce the place up. Besides, they say talking to plants helps them grow. Maybe it’ll work wonders for you too."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Are you implying I need help growing? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve hit my growth spurt."

I laughed, feeling more at ease with each playful exchange. "No, just that a little greenery might make this place feel more like home. Plus, it could give you someone to talk to when you’re not racing around the world."

"Well, if you’re around, I’ll have plenty of company," he said with a wink. "And maybe you can teach me how to take care of them without killing them."

"I’d be happy to," I replied, smiling. "But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to choose some low-maintenance plants. Wouldn’t want you to feel overwhelmed."

"Thanks," he said, his tone sincere. "I appreciate that. But seriously, it’ll be nice to have you help me make this place feel more like home."

"Anytime," I said, feeling a warm glow from his words. "Just promise you won’t get any bright ideas about adding a racecar in the living room."

Max chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "No promises. But I’ll try to restrain myself."

He glanced at my luggage and then back at me. "Let me help you with those," he offered, moving towards the pink suitcases. "I’ll take them to the guest room."

As he picked up the bags, I couldn't help but notice how effortlessly he handled them. The way his muscles flexed under his shirt made my heart race. It was impossible to ignore how strong and capable he looked, making even the heavy suitcases seem weightless. Every movement seemed to highlight his athletic build, and I found myself momentarily distracted by the sheer physicality of him.

He had insisted on me staying at his apartment for the seven days I was in town, refusing to let me book a hotel. "You’ll be more comfortable here," he had said on our phone call earlier, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was sweet, really, and incredibly sexy watching him take charge like this. The thoughtfulness behind his actions made me feel special and cared for in a way that I hadn’t experienced before.

As he carried my luggage, I couldn't help but admire the ease with which he moved, the definition in his arms and shoulders evident with each step.

I followed him down the hallway, my eyes shamelessly glued to his back, watching the way his muscles shifted beneath his shirt. Each step he took seemed to exude confidence and strength, a silent testament to his physical prowess. I couldn't help but admire how the fabric of his shirt clung to his form, accentuating every line and curve of his well-toned physique.

God, I could talk about his slutty little waist for days. The little fancams they showed on F1TV or YouTube did not do it justice. Seeing him in person, the way his waist tapered into those perfectly fitted jeans, was a whole different experience. It was mesmerizing, almost unfair how well his physique was sculpted.

As he walked ahead of me, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his back and narrowed at his waist, highlighting the lean, athletic build that had become a defining part of who he was. It was the kind of detail that fans like me only dreamed about, and here I was, witnessing it up close.

I was such a lucky little bitch.

My mind wandered to the countless hours he must have spent training, not just in the gym but on the track as well. It was a different kind of dedication, one that went beyond what most people understood. There was something undeniably attractive about a person who was so committed to their craft, and it only added to the allure that Max already possessed.

As he led me into the guest room, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was Max Verstappen's personal space, a glimpse into the life of someone I had admired from afar. The room was spacious and inviting, with large windows that allowed natural light to flood in, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

Max set my bags down gently and turned to face me, his expression softening. "There you go," he said with a warm smile. "If you need anything, just let me know. Make yourself at home."

"Thanks, Max," I replied, giving him a grateful smile. "I really appreciate this."

Just as I was about to say more, Max’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and frowned slightly. "Sorry, I have to take this," he said, holding up the phone. "It’s important."

"Of course, no problem," I said, waving him off. "Take your time."

Max nodded and stepped out of the room, his voice already lowered as he answered the call. Left alone, I took a moment to absorb my surroundings. The bed looked incredibly inviting with its crisp, clean sheets and plush pillows. The journey had been long, and I could feel the fatigue weighing heavily on me.

Without much thought, I kicked off my shoes and sank onto the bed, the mattress soft and supportive beneath me. The room had a calming aura, and despite my excitement, my eyelids grew heavy. I lay back, letting out a contented sigh as I nestled into the pillows.

The last thing I remembered was the distant murmur of Max's voice from the hallway. The day's exhaustion finally caught up with me, and within moments, I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep, completely at ease in the unfamiliar yet comforting space.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Max's POV❞

I couldn’t wait to see her cute face after my phone call.

Ever since she showed up at my door an hour ago, luggage in hand and blushing like mad, I knew I wanted to hold her in my arms and never let go. The way she looked so overwhelmed and charmingly nervous had struck a chord with me. But now, here I was, stuck listening to Lando Norris ramble about his trivial girl troubles when all I wanted was to see her again.

Lando’s voice was like a buzzing fly in my ear, and I found myself tapping my foot impatiently, wishing he'd get the hint and stop talking. His high-pitched voice grated on my nerves as he continued his endless rant about the latest drama in his life. I loved the guy, but seriously, this was not the moment for his soap opera.

“—and you would not believe what she said to me next,” Lando’s voice droned on, each word feeling like a needle in my brain. I barely registered his complaints, lost in my own thoughts about her.

“Max! Are you listening to me??” Lando’s voice suddenly pierced through the fog of my thoughts, making me flinch slightly.

“Mhm...” I trailed off, barely processing the words. My mind was focused entirely on her, on how she looked when she first arrived and how peaceful she appeared when I last saw her.

“Oh, what the bloody fuck mate, you’re not listening. Whatever, I'll talk to you later,” Lando said abruptly. Before I could respond, I heard the familiar click of the call ending.

“Hallelujah,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes in relief. The endless chitter-chatter had finally stopped, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“Oh, what the fuck,” I suddenly exclaimed, realizing that I had wasted enough time. I should be up and finding my houseguest—my possible future wifey—and spending more time with her. I shot up from my seat, a surge of excitement propelling me forward.

The house had been unusually quiet since I’d gotten off the call, and I was eager to see what she was up to. Maybe she was scrolling through her phone, or perhaps she was just getting comfortable. I tiptoed down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere of the house.

As I approached the guest room, I could hear nothing but the soft hum of the air conditioning. My heart skipped a beat as I slowly opened the door, peeking inside to see what awaited me. The sight that met my eyes was unexpectedly delightful. There she was, nestled in the bed, having kicked off the fluffy house shoes I’d given her. Her luggage was neatly set aside, and the room was serene, illuminated by the gentle late afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

Her position on the bed was both endearing and surprisingly casual. She had managed to kick the blankets off completely, leaving them in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. The sight of her sprawled out, so relaxed and at ease, made me pause. She looked incredibly peaceful, her hair spread out like a halo around her, and her cheeks were slightly flushed.

My beautiful girl was tired.

A soft smile crept onto my face as I approached her. It was clear that she was deeply asleep, her breathing even and steady. I carefully grabbed the blanket from the end of the bed, making sure not to disturb her. The blanket was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

In her sleep, she shifted slightly, letting out little breaths.

As I gently draped it over her, I couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in this vulnerable state.

The way her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were closed made her seem even more endearing. She had a certain tranquility about her that was utterly captivating. It was a rare and precious sight, and I felt a surge of affection just watching her. Her presence in my apartment, in my space, felt strangely comforting and intimate.

I adjusted the blanket carefully, ensuring it covered her snugly. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, which made me breathe a sigh of relief I didn't realize that I had been holding. I took a moment to appreciate how serene and beautiful she looked. The gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept was calming to observe, and it made me feel even more connected to her.

I lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, letting the peaceful scene sink in.

In that moment, I really wanted to be her boyfriend. Even though I had just met her in real life a mere forty minutes ago, I wanted to give her everything that she wanted and deserved.

I imagined us spending more time together, exploring new places, and sharing our dreams and fears. I wanted to be the person who made her feel special and loved, who supported her in all her endeavors and celebrated her successes. The thought of being that person for her was more appealing than I’d ever expected.

It wasn’t just about the romantic gestures or grand declarations; it was about the everyday moments of care and attention. I wanted to be there for her in the small, meaningful ways—like making sure she was comfortable, listening to her stories, and sharing in her joys and struggles.

Don't call me naive, but I really, really, really like her.

જ⁀➴✎ ❛❛Y/N's POV❞

In my dreamless state, I could still remember a few things. Like the warm breath of someone hovering over me. I could feel watchful eyes on my back, curious, worried, then relieved. I remember feeling gentle hands pulling my blanket from the foot of the bed to my shoulders, gently covering me.

And when I woke up, I really questioned whether what I felt was a dream. In my room it was silent, almost no trace of whether someone was there or not.

The only anomaly was the fact that before, I had completely shut the door. Now, the door was left ajar, a tiny sliver of the hallway could be seen from where I was propped up in my bed.

Yawning, I could hear the soft hum of the ongoing AC in my room. But if I listened a bit more, I could hear the whirring of the range hood in Max's kitchen further down the hall.

He was cooking?

Wow. Call me surprised.

A few days ago when we called on Discord, he had narrated a few cooking horror stories that had happened to him.

I remembered one particularly gruesome story he shared, one that sounded like it came straight out of a sitcom. It was supposed to be a simple pasta dinner. Max had invited a few friends over, and in his eagerness to impress them with his culinary skills, he decided to make everything from scratch.

(I know, I know, he told me he wanted to have his little Nara Smith moment...I'll give it to him, I guess)

It started with the sauce. He had carefully selected ripe tomatoes and fresh herbs, determined to make the best marinara his friends had ever tasted. But things quickly went downhill. First, he accidentally doubled the amount of garlic. Not a huge issue, right? Just a little more flavor. But then, in his attempt to balance it out, he added way too much salt. Desperate to fix it, he threw in some sugar, which somehow made it even worse.

Next came the pasta. Max had repeatedly watched one Nara Smith video of her making fresh pasta and he figured it couldn’t be that hard.

News flash, incorrect answer buzzer.

He miscalculated the flour-to-egg ratio, resulting in a sticky, unmanageable dough. By the time he managed to roll it out, the dough was uneven and tearing. When he finally got it into the pot, it clumped together into a gooey mess.

Meanwhile, the kitchen was descending into chaos. The range hood was whirring at full blast, struggling to keep up with the smoke billowing from the pan. In his panic, Max forgot to turn the stove down, and the sauce began to boil over, spilling onto the burner and creating a scorched, acrid smell that filled the entire apartment.

Then came the final straw. Max decided to make garlic bread as a last-minute addition. He put it in the oven and got so distracted by the pasta disaster that he forgot about it entirely. By the time he remembered, the bread was more akin to charcoal, emitting a foul, burnt odor that overpowered even the smell of the burnt sauce.

His friends (He told me it was Lando, Daniel, and Carlos) arrived just in time to witness the aftermath. The kitchen was a war zone, with sauce splattered everywhere, clumps of dough sticking to various surfaces, and smoke lingering in the air. The range hood was doing its best, but it was no match for the chaos Max had created.

His friends tried to be polite (Well maybe Daniel and Carlos did but Lando certainly was not), but the horrified expressions on their faces said it all.

Max ended up ordering pizza, and the story became an infamous legend among his friends. They still teased him about it, making jokes about his "gourmet" cooking skills whenever they had the chance.

It was quite a funny story, as Max had vlogged the whole thing, originally wanting to use the video footage as evidence that he could actually cook.

That's fucking hilarious, if you ask me.

When he showed the video footage, I was quite literally cracking up. I swear I had never laughed as hard as I did in my life when he showed me it.

Remembering that story now, I couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he was back in the kitchen, despite that disastrous experience, said a lot about his determination.

And maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. I decided to get up and see for myself what he was up to, hoping that I wouldn't walk into another kitchen catastrophe.

On that account, I found myself to be, again, very much wrong.

It smelled funny in the kitchen.

There was a peculiar mix of something burnt and something…well, unidentifiable. As I approached, the smell intensified, and I began to worry. I rounded the corner to find Max standing over the stove, looking flustered. Smoke billowed up from the pan, and the range hood was struggling to keep up.

"Max, what on God's green earth are you doing?" I asked, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice. I was also, clearly failing at that too, as a hitch in my voice gave away what I was truly feeling.

Dear reader, I was about to burst into a torrential fit of laughter.

He glanced up, his face a mix of sheepishness and determination. "I was trying to make fried rice with beef and onions, but...uh, things aren't going as planned."

I raised an eyebrow. "Clearly. What happened?"

He sighed, waving a hand at the pan. "Well, first, I realized there wasn't much food in the fridge to begin with. I found some rice, a bit of beef, and an onion. Seemed like enough for a simple dish, right? But then the beef started to stick to the pan, so I added more oil, which made the onions cook too fast and burn. And now the rice is clumping together and sticking to everything."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Max, you are a disaster in the kitchen. This is even worse than the pasta incident."

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know, I know. But I wanted to impress you. Clearly, I'm failing miserably."

I walked over and peered into the pan. The beef was charred in some spots and raw in others, the onions were practically disintegrated, and the rice looked like a sticky, burnt mess. "Impressive isn't exactly the word I'd use," I teased.

He grinned, despite the chaos. "Hey, at least I'm trying, right? That's got to count for something."

I shook my head, laughing. "It counts for effort, sure. But maybe you should stick to ordering takeout."

He gave me a mock serious look. "Or, you could teach me. You're the one with the design ideas. Maybe you have some cooking tips too?"

I pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I suppose I could. But only if you promise to listen and not improvise."

Max chuckled, holding up his hands in surrender. "I promise. No more kitchen disasters."

I smiled, feeling a warm rush of affection. "Alright, let's see what we can salvage here. First things first, let's get rid of this burnt mess."

As we started cleaning up, Max kept sneaking glances at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, I didn't just burn the food on purpose to get you to come out here and help me, but it's a nice bonus."

I rolled my eyes, playfully nudging him with my shoulder. "Nice try, Verstappen. But if you keep burning things, I might have to take over all the cooking."

"Deal," he said, his grin widening. "As long as you stay."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I couldn't help but smile. "You're lucky I'm a sucker for a cute guy who tries to cook."

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're lucky I'm persistent. Now, let's make something edible before we both starve."

I glanced at the pitiful remains of our attempted fried rice. "Or," I suggested, "we could go to the grocery store and get some proper ingredients. Maybe start from scratch with something we can't mess up."

Max's eyes lit up with excitement. "A late-night grocery run? That sounds like a great idea. It's only 8 PM; we've got plenty of time."

I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of a spontaneous adventure. "Alright then, let's go. But first, let me change out of these pajamas."

Max grinned, leaning a little closer. "Deal. I'll clean up here while you get ready. But you know, you look pretty cute in those pajamas. Maybe we should make it a pajama party instead?"

I rolled my eyes playfully, feeling my cheeks warm. "Nice try, but I think I'll stick with something a bit more appropriate for public."

Max chuckled. "Alright, but don't keep me waiting too long. The sooner we get to the store, the sooner we can start our culinary masterpiece."

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh, now it's a culinary masterpiece? You have high hopes, Mr. Verstappen."

He shrugged, flashing a charming smile. "What can I say? I'm an optimist. Plus, with you by my side, how could it be anything but perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head as I headed to the guest room to change. "We'll see about that. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Max's voice followed me down the hall. "I'll be counting the seconds, chef."

After changing into something more appropriate—a pair of jeans and a cozy sweater—I met Max in the living room. He had cleaned up the kitchen mess and was now waiting by the door, car keys in hand.

At the door, I slipped on a pair of Birkenstocks, leaning on Max to stabilize myself. Feeling myself slipping all of a sudden, Max grabbed onto my waist and steadied me up. His grip was firm, and I could feel the warmth of his hand through my shirt, sending a little shiver down my spine.

"Careful there," he teased, his voice low and close to my ear. "Wouldn't want you to fall for me… again."

I glanced up at him, catching the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, Max. It seems like you're getting pretty good at catching me."

He smirked, his hand still resting on my waist, holding me just a little closer than necessary. "Well, practice makes perfect, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the playful tension between us impossible to ignore. "You might need a few more tries, though. I’m a bit of a klutz."

He chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against my side. "Lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world." My heart was quite literally beating out of my chest and the sexual tension was getting to me. Noticing my beet red face, Max continued.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Ready," I replied, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves. (And still giggly from the whole previous ordeal)

Max held the door open for me with a dramatic flourish. "After you, my lady," he said with a mock bow.

I laughed, rolling my eyes playfully. "Such a gentleman. You really know how to impress a girl."

As we headed down to the underground garage, Max couldn't resist a bit more teasing. "So, do you have a grocery list, or are we winging it?"

"I think we should wing it," I said, grinning. "Who knows, maybe we'll discover some hidden culinary talents."

"Or set off the smoke alarm again," Max added, smirking.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Hey, I'm a decent cook. I promise I won't let you burn anything."

"Good to know," he replied, his smile widening as we reached his Aston Martin Vantage.

The sleek car gleamed under the garage lights, and I couldn't help but admire it. "Nice ride," I said, running a hand over the smooth surface.

"Thanks," Max said, a hint of pride in his voice. "I figured it would make a good impression."

"You figured right," I said with a wink.

As we pulled out onto the street, the city lights cast a warm glow over everything. The drive through the city was peaceful, the streets mostly empty at this hour. We chatted casually, the conversation flowing easily as we navigated through the urban maze. Max seemed to know the city well, effortlessly weaving through the streets as we made our way to the nearest grocery store.

As we drove through the city, the conversation continued to flow easily. "So, what kind of snacks are we getting?" Max asked, glancing over at me.

"Definitely some chocolate," I replied. "Maybe some chips too. What about you?"

"I was thinking ice cream," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You know, for dessert after our gourmet fried rice."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You and your sweet tooth. Fine, we'll get ice cream. But only if you promise not to eat it all in one sitting."

"Deal," Max said, grinning. "I promise to save some for you."

"Max I've seen you devour so much food in one sitting, are you sure you are keeping that promise?" I roll my eyes in mock frustration.

He smirked, glancing over at me. "What can I say? I'm a growing boy."

"Growing boy, huh?" I teased. "Last time I checked, you were already fully grown."

"Just because I'm tall and handsome doesn't mean I can't still grow," he shot back, winking.

I snorted. "Tall and humble, too. Such a rare combination."

"Only for you," he said, placing a hand dramatically on his chest. "I reserve my best qualities for special occasions."

"Well, aren't I lucky?" I said with a laugh. "I guess I'll have to make sure to keep you around for more grocery runs."

"Hey, I'll take any excuse to spend time with you," he replied smoothly. "Even if it means resisting the urge to eat all the ice cream."

I pretended to ponder his words. "Hmm, maybe I should test your willpower. Get a couple of pints and see how long they last."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me?"

"Maybe I am," I said, grinning. "Think you can handle it?"

"Oh, I can handle it," Max said confidently. "But can you handle me winning?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "We'll see about that. Just don't cry when I catch you sneaking spoonful's in the middle of the night."

"You're on," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement. "But be warned, I play to win."

The hum of the Aston Martin's engine was a soothing backdrop to our conversation. The car's interior was luxurious, with plush leather seats and a state-of-the-art dashboard. I couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as we sped through the city, the lights blurring past us in a kaleidoscope of colors.

"So, do you do this often?" I asked, glancing over at Max.

"Late-night grocery runs?" he replied with a grin. "Not really, but I'm always up for an adventure."

I laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie growing between us. "Well, I think this might be the most exciting grocery run I've ever been on."

Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Just wait until we get there. I might even let you pick out some snacks."

"Now you're talking," I said, grinning. "I will never not indulge in big back activities," The prospect of picking out snacks together felt oddly intimate, a small but meaningful step in getting to know each other better.

"Hey! You can definitely tell a lot about a person based on their favorite snacks. People who simply like spicy shrimp crackers are superior!"

Max raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. "Spicy shrimp crackers? That’s a bold choice. I guess we'll see if our snack preferences align."

"They better," I said, rolling my eyes in mock annoyance. With that, we stepped outside, the crisp air greeting us as we made our way to the grocery store. The city buzzed around us, but all I could focus on was the warmth of his presence beside me and the anticipation of what was quickly becoming an unexpectedly perfect day.

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yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 278,121 others

yourusername: what in the #domesticlife...#breadbedandbred

view comments:

maxverstappen1: This is a VERY misleading caption, Y/N

maxverstappen1: Nice post, though (please change the caption)

maxverstappen1: Christian also said that the caption is "sussy as hell"... whatever that means

user1: BYEEEE christian "horny" horner strikes again 🤕

user2: ain't nothing SOFT about this LAUNCH y/n 😖😖🤯🫣

yourusername: 🫣🫣🫣

user3: not her casually serving in a groccery store at night, i aspire to be second-slide-y/n

user4: DAMNNNNN IM SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY TNNNN GUYS 😐🤧

user5: AYO MAX

user5: hand placement.... you better WATCH yourself

user6: guys i need this so bad, accepting bf applications RIGHT NOW

user7: dude.... Dude.... DUDEEEEE

user8: his gorilla ass grip on the hook of her jean hook im ILL guys I'M SO ILL 🤕🤕

user9: u r so right queen, it's giving #domestic #hubbyandbubby #narasmithlife #walkhimlikeadog

yourusername: i like #walkhimlikeadog 🤯

maxverstappen1: I like #hughimlikeacat better 😌

yourusername: 🐶🐶🐶 ARF MAX

maxverstappen1: You are very VERY weird, Y/N 🤣🤣🤣😂😅

yourusername: ARF ARF ARFFFFF 🐕🐕🐩

user10: we got #walkhimlikeadog daughter versus #hughimlikeacat son before gta 6 😈😈😈🥲

landonorris: Damn, Max, get a grip, you are getting SOFT my boy 😹😹😹

maxverstappen1: Not funny, Lando

yourusername: 😹😹😹

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taglist: @hiireadstuff @sinofwriting @mehrmonga @the-untamed-soul @glai1023-blog @loloekie @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @sheastri @llando4norris @gwginnyweasley @carmenita122 @ririyulife @pausmoon @ur-fav-ave @eveninggstar @maddie-naps @erin-odonnell04 @rexit-mo @ems-alexandra @si1ver06 @iamred-iamyellow @bibissparkles @percypie @formula1blog @lanadelray1989 @rylieverstappen-sargent @luvsforme @eiaaasamantha @kaysmiles42 @mvaldez7821 @stinkyjax @sweate-r-weathe-r @laneyspaulding19 @mingyusbigrighttoe @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @stinkyjax @fandomz-queenie @theblueblub @mayusaatma @lanadelrey @formula1-motogpfan

some of these didn't get tagged, and i'm having trouble (?) it's being very weird, idk, so please let me know if your name is here and it didn't tag you ❣️

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author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

[thedailybullshit]

RDR2 Incorrect Quotes pt. 31

Bessie: Oh, you’re such a handsome young man! Can you give us a big smile?

Little John, who had a shitty childhood & doesn’t know how: 😬

Bessie: Oh! Ah - please don’t do that again. Ok-

Thomas the Swamp Boatman: You people have issues.

Arthur: Well of course I have issues!

Dutch: *drowning Bronte*

Arthur, pointing to him: THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ FATHER!!!

Arthur: Hey man, whatcha doin’? Whatcha up to?

Francis Sinclair: Nothin’ big. Just, uh, practicing my time traveling. So-

Arthur: Sorry, did you say time traveling? Like traveling-through-time time traveling?!?!?

Francis: In fact, the love of your life is gonna walk through that door in three, two, one-

Charles, opening door: Hey, I’m sorry, is this - is this the therapy session?

Arthur: The love of my life is a man?!?

Francis: . . . Oh, have we not gotten to that part yet?

Micah: It’s sad to see you slowing down, Cowpoke. Tell me, is it the TB?

Arthur: Maybe it is the tuberculosis. But then how pathetic are you? That you can’t best me at my worst!

Dutch: The money is what I want. That is where my loyalties lie. That is what my priority is!

Hosea: Not the person who raised your children?

Dutch: Don’t bring the boys into this.

Hosea: Alright. NOT THE MAN YOU MARRIED?!?!?

Dutch: I REFUSE TO BE BLAMED ANY LONGER FOR THIS GROTESQUE MISALLIANCE!!!!

Arthur: I don’t talk about feelings, Hosea. I don’t have any, I’ve never seen one. I’m a night-stalking, train-robbing outlaw, and a campfire tune-singing machine. I don’t feel anything emotionally except for rage - twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five, at a million percent. And if you think that there’s something behind that, then you’re crazy. Goodnight Hosea!

Hosea: Arthur, it’s morning.

Arthur, looking into the sun bc he didn’t realize: Hsssssssssaahhhhh!!!

Young John: I have a question.

Young Hosea: Alright, shoot.

Young John: *shoots the ceiling* Alright can I ask it now?

Mr. Grimshaw: If I were a gardener, I’d put our two-lips together.

Susan: Aw, thank you!

Dutch: If I were a gardener, you’d be my Ho.

Hosea: Thanks.

Hosea: It must be so nice to be rich instead of, say, having to develop a personality.

Mrs. Braithwaite: Shut up, Matthews.

Hosea: Buy my silence, Catherine.

Charles: I have this strange urge to do something stupid.

Arthur: I’m stupid, do me.

Charles:

The Gang:

Arthur: I said that out loud.

[zappedbyzabka]

Prompt: Serial Killers

for @ckhalloween23

(Scream au. Lawrusso. Little fast paced. Just one of a couple variations I’m going to make and build on. Wonky timeline)

Johnny slams the fridge closed dramatically, huffing and stomping towards the ringing phone. He’s pissed all day about various things. One is the fact that no colleges have gotten back to him yet. Is he really that…dumb? He could have sworn despite the various times he’d skip classes in school and flunk, that all the debutante bullshit Sid forced him into would at least work for something. Bobby assured him

(“Oh, come on, Johnny. I don’t hang out with stupid people—“he glanced at Tommy and Dutch, then back at him “Actually, scratch that. All I’m saying is that you’re not *educationally* a dumbass, alright?”)

It helped yet didn’t at all. Of course Bobby isn’t stressed, he and Jimmy have always been the smart ones. Johnny would go as far as to say they’re Harvard material. That comfort was fine and dandy, but Dutch was never good at reading the room, he was always just even more affectionate when Johnny was struggling. Arm around his shoulders as Johnny vented about it all. He just wants to get out of his stepfather’s hands, maybe become a doctor, make good money, and be on his own. Make a family at some point. How can he do that if no school wants him? What if he ends up as a plumber? Dealing with shit for shit money. What if he has to strip for perverts? And he wishes he could stop fucking thinking about that annoying little worm, LaRusso. The fighting and tournament are all over yet he seems to run into him everywhere…he can’t even say he hates it. He almost feels excited every time he sees him, especially when Ali isn’t there—so much less tension. So much more time to chat civilly with less filter. He finds himself hoping they broke up and not because he wants her back. Every date he’d been on recently never called him back. It’s like no one wants him except the cobras—and god is he thankful for them even when they say he’s wrong

(“Hey, at least you look cool even when you’re acting like a total diva.” Dutch teased, and Johnny stiffened. They always called him that and he usually scoffs, but right then it just felt like a way to tell him he’s over reacting.

No, it WAS. “I’m not being a diva. Why do you always say that shit?”

“I think you meant drama queen—“ Tommy started, mouth snapping shut at Bobby’s firm look. “Sorry.”

“What’s so great about college? Can’t you just, I don’t know, work at a diner?” Dutch shrugged

Jimmy raised his brows and nudged Johnny’s shoulder with his, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Don’t listen to him. We understand, okay?”

Johnny smiled at him. Jimmy once said he was one of the only people who never made him feel irritated, even with all his chaos. He’d even let him snag one of his grandpa sweaters, which he was usually such a prissy princess about, and just rolled his eyes when Johnny showed up to school one day wearing one. The day they met, he and Johnny were more alike than different, and that always stuck.

Johnny pushed Dutch’s arm off him hard and Jimmy’s off gently. Dutch frowned as Johnny walked to his bike, the other cobras watching and sharing looks.

“What’d I do?” Dutch all but whined to Bobby who smacked him over the head. “Don’t leave, man, please?”

Johnny shook his head and straddled his bike, grabbing his helmet. “Thanks for the pep talk, guys. I’ll see you later.”

“Call me when you get home!” Bobby shouted as Johnny sped off.)

It must be one of them. Dutch or Bobby in a coin toss. Dutch calling with a sheepish apology, asking if he can bring a pack of beer over. Bobby calling to cheer him up a little and give him tips on making better applications. Maybe Jimmy calling to talk about some movie or book, focusing on the action because he knows Johnny likes it most—a great storyteller. Or maybe it’s Tommy with a laugh in his voice, ready to make him cackle so hard his stomach cramped.

He picks up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi,” A strange voice answers. It’s like they’re using some sort of modulator.

“Uh, who is this?”

“If I tell you, will you give me a chance?” the voice croon.

A chance at what? “Sure, whatever. Who the hell is this?”

The man chuckles, “So feisty. I always liked that about you.”

“I…what?”

“What's your dating life like? Wait, Let me guess, not going so well?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“What’s your fucking problem?”

“Hey, hey. I’m just curious, you never tell me about those kinds of things when we talk.“

“I never tell you?….Who is this?”

Johnny swears he hears something in the background. Something like wheezing, scraping.

“You wanna play twenty questions?”

“You wanna stop playing games and get to the point or did you want to keep prattling?” Johnny counters, walking back to the fridge with the phone pressed to his shoulder.

“No, I want to play with you for a long time.”

Johnny’s face heats up. “Maybe I’ll let you “play” with me if you tell me more about yourself. Like your name, for example.”

Why is he enjoying this?

“Well, sure!” the voice answers cheerily. “What do you want to know? Other than my name. If I gave you it now that’d be no fun. ”

Johnny thinks about it. It's someone semi-close to him at the least with how he speak. Must be some lame prank.

“Do you…live with your parents?”

“Interesting choice. Yes. My ma was very adamant that I stay until I have everything together.”

Johnny’s ears might as well have physically perked up. “Ma”. He knows a lot of people call their moms that but…

“You know, the way you talk reminds me of a boy who’d be *dead* if this were him.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. This prick from New Jersey….Kind of changed my life. Mostly for the worse I’d say.”

A hum. “You don’t sound like you hate him all that much for someone who change your life for the worse. Do you?”

Johnny stops pouring the coke staring at the half-filled cup and chewing on his lip “It’s not your turn to ask me things yet.”

“Oh, come on. Humor me.”

“Well, I guess not anymore. I kind of… appreciate him. I’d have stayed with him if he never came around. My buddies too.

“Him?”

“My teacher. Bad guy. Tried to kill me.”

“Should have killed him.” he sounds angry. surprisingly so, like a switch had been flipped.

The mansion is so…eery without his mom and Sid there. Unsettling in a different way than when they’re home. He rests his elbow on the counter, pulling his sleeve over his cold fingers. Will he get drilled into it for turning on the heat? Racking up the bill. “Great idea but I don’t really want to go to jail because I’m actually trying to have a life.”

“I wasn’t talking about you killing, I was talking about me.”

Johnny goes silent. So he knows all about it—what Kreese did—and only so many do.

“You look pretty in that sweater, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny’s brain a moment to process that and when it does he stands up straight, looking out the windows he can see.

“Wha—How do know what I’m wearing?” He changed after he got home. There’s no way he could know that unless…

“Are you all alone?”

Yes. Painfully so.

“I—I’m over this. Bye.”

“Did you lock all the doors?“

Click. He practically slams the phone back in the holder, nerves haywire all over again. He dumps his drink out in the sink in favor of some of the scotch stashed in the cabinet

Pouring it hurriedly then going upstairs to get loose and pass out for a good night's rest.

——————————————————————————

Johnny startles awake, his eyes darting in the direction of the sudden cracking noise—heart jumping in his throat when he sees someone successfully breaking into his room. How did he not wake up sooner?

A big white face with a gaping mouth, gloved hands pushing open the window and stumbling in: clumsy.

Adrenaline hits him like a train.

He slinks off his bed and onto the ground just as the intruder's feet meet the floor

They’re not exactly tall, and their flowy black attire makes it hard to determine their stature

He stands up quickly and runs toward the person but a glint makes him stop in his tracks.

The person tilts their head like a dog, bringing out a kitchen knife smeared with blood.

They step towards him, and he steps back, that pattern continuing until Johny only has the corner of the wall behind him, nowhere to escape. He was taught better than this—maybe he can still run.

The intruder sweeps his legs causing him to fall on his back and lose all his breath, lungs feeling like they were punched, his head knocking on the floor making him see stars. The person gets between his legs easily and puts a hand on his chest to hold him down (though it feels more like a grope) and the blade still held in warning

Maybe he could get it away from him. Maybe he can get himself to move if he just takes a deep breath. Wills away the dizziness.

Heavy breathing comes from the mask, and he trails the blade down Johnny's body slowly. Toying with him. Staring at him with big black eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you’d catch yourself better, you’re usually such a cat….” he leans in “You’ve been drinking again, haven’t you? Bad boy.”

“Are you going to kill me? Johnny asks, voice high and tight.

“Are you scared?” his voice is strange like he’s impersonating someone, like they’re going as deep as they can. Breathy.

Johnny grits his teeth, eyes on the blood smeared on the mask.

“I…I’ll give you whatever you want of mine. Just please don’t take my parents’ stuff—“

The boy shakes his head. “Don’t be scared.”

Johnny’s hands tremble where they’re clutching his sweater. He could wrap his legs around his waist and squeeze tight, roll him over, and surprise him enough to escape.

But the knife—but the butterflies in his stomach.

He was always fascinated by knives. The way they reflected things. He used to play with the switchblade his dad left when he was young. He hid it from his mom until the day he accidentally sliced his hand and needed stitches. She was furious, he was thinking about just how dark his blood was. Not at all like the movies he’d watch that looked like ketchup. He thought it was beautiful

“I know you like blood on your hands but — “ The intruder swipes the red off his mask with a finger, leather shining with it. Johnny’s eyes follow widely, “Is it like I do?”

He almost sounds hopeful. Vulnerable. Johnny’s heart thumps loudly. he hates murder. Murder is wrong. It’d make him a bad person if he sometimes thought about going further than a strike. More than just his hands and high kicks and words. He says nothing, and the boy tuts his tongue, wiping the blood on Johnny’s lips like some sort of fucked up lipstick.

“I think you do. I know you, Johnny. Better than you think I do. Better than you know me.”

“No. No. I don’t like it.” Johnny chokes out, tongue threatening to peek out a lick his lips clean.

He can just sense he’s smiling. “Okay, pretty boy.”

He knows him. He *knows* him.

The intruder covers his eyes, shushing soothingly when Johnny goes tense

“No more dates for you. ” he whispers, and Johnny flinches when he feels the heat of their mouth hovering over his. “I’ll keep making sure of it. And since you *don’t* want blood on your hands, you should probably just give up because next time, I’ll stab them when you’re still there.”

It clicks in his head like a phone getting hung up: All the failed dates, they’re dead. All because of him. All because this man is… is what? Obsessed with him?

He kisses Johnny out of no where and it’s eager, rough like he had been waiting forever. Like he’s trying to eat Johnny like a blood-glazed cake lips first and he just lays there and takes it. Opens his mouth and tastes his tongue: iron and mint. Something interesting.

He turns his head abruptly, hand still covering his eyes firmly, and the kiss breaks with a wet noise that has Johnny’s feeling warm. He breathes through his nose, tears welling at the corner of his eyes. He’s striking first and Johnny hasn’t struck him once

“Aw. I’m disappointed you’re done so soon, but that’s okay. I’m not pushy. I wasn’t even sure you’d let me…You chew on things so much, you have no idea the things I think about you.“

A rustle, then the moonlight filling Johnny’s vision again.

The murderer gets up and saunters to his bedroom door, looking back at him with his hand on the knob

Johnny sits up his elbows, licking the roof of his mouth to savor.

“One day, I won’t have to make calls, ‘cause you are instead,” he tells Johnny like a promise before he opens the doors with a creak and steps out.

Johnny lays back again, shaking with it all. No want in him to close his window or see if the boy is burglarizing the mansion or just going out the front door like he owns the place.

He might ask someone out tomorrow.

[lazulifoster]

Random Red Dead Redemption 2 Headcanons

My friend and I have been talking about RDR2 quite a bit, so I had no choice but to get to writing again, and it feels amazing! Starting off easy, but I hope to keep going from here. Thanks Arely for the inspiration!

Arthur’s favorites in the camp are Tilly and Lenny. He also has a soft spot for Grimshaw.

Arthur had a crush on Grimshaw when he first met her. She was a pretty, older woman, and he definitely got shy around her as a young man. She saw him as a little punk (affectionately) that she kept a special eye on.

Arthur is Grimshaw's favorite.

Arthur is Hosea’s favorite—John used to be Dutch’s favorite before he left for a year.

Arthur is an anxious-avoidant attachment. He doesn’t want to fall for someone, but my goodness, if he does, you'll own real estate in that man’s heart forever (cough cough, Mary)

Arthur: “No one [woman] will have me.” BECAUSE YOU’RE TOO ANXIOUS AND RUN AWAY FROM YOUR FEELINGS, Cowpoke.

High honor Arthur has nightmares of shit he’s done. Especially the loan shark stuff. This is why I think deep down he envies Micah’s ability to not give a fuck at all. Because the guilt of all the bad things he’s done consumes Arthur, I'd imagine that “free” feeling must be nice.

Arthur hates Strauss. Not as outwardly as his disdain for Micah, but he does. At the very least, Arthur doesn’t respect Strauss in the slightest. He also hates himself for aiding Strauss in his loan shark endeavors.

Javier keeps up with his appearance but underestimates his attractiveness.

Mary Beth has had a crush on everyone in camp at least once (except Micah), or she’s romanticized at least one quality about every man in camp (again, except Micah.) But she romanticizes Arthur and Dutch the most.

(1) Because Arthur is, well, Arthur, and who amongst us hasn't romanticized this handsome boi.

(2) and Dutch, because he’s been paying extra attention to her lately; he reads and appreciates that she does too; and she looks up to him.

Karen is the best to gossip with in the camp; you know the tea is piping hot when she’s around.

Tilly is universally loved by the camp (Maybe apart from Bill and Micah), but even Grimshaw (who is really hard on her) puts up a big fight to save her. She’s well-loved by the camp.

Trelawny is married but still flirts with the girls at camp and has other dalliances. His wife suspects this but doesn’t mind as much as you’d expect.

Charles is also very romantic with his partners, and I mean THE MOST romantic out of everyone in the VDL gang.

Sadie is a one-and-done woman. Her husband was the love of her life. I don’t even think she hooked up with anyone after he died. Jake was her one and only.

Kieran smells bad. That is not my opinion; it’s canon. Drunk Arthur even tells him to wash.

[dino-fart]

Hi!!! I have a request for a Joel Miller fic where him and Ellie r settled and he meets reader who is a school teacher in Jackson

Oooo!!

You were a nurse and a botanist. You worked at a research facility partnered with a hospital. You were helping research various herbs and remedies that could help either cure the Cordyceps infection or at the very least slow it down. Alas, you found none and that led to the chaos and the near extinction of mankind. That is until you got to the Jackson settlement and you were amazed at how the place looked like it used to before the outbreak. 

You had met with Tommy and his wife, Maria, sweet and caring people. You told them of your previous occupation and expected to be stationed at the clinic. But your expertise in botany made them choose a different path for you. You now found yourself in a school, teaching botany and nursing. 

You had a set schedule, two days a week you taught students ranging from 6 years old to 10 years old. Two other days you taught students ranging from 13 to 21 years old. One day you taught the adults. Needless to say, you were kept busy, but you liked it. You felt like you were giving hope to this settlement. The more knowledge you gave them, the better chances they would have surviving their missions. You hoped at least. 

Today, you were wearing a yellow sundress, black ballet flats, and a white sunhat. Your hair was done in a front dutch braid. You stood in the greenhouse waiting for your students to arrive. You wanted to teach the young students (13 years - 21 years) about what herbs to eat and how to check if some fruit are ripe enough to eat. You had heard a new student was joining you, you didn’t know much about her, just that Tommy insisted she joined the class. 

You smiled widely seeing the students walk in chipper and happy. It was nice to see your students this way, it reminded you of life before. You were about to begin the class when a brunette haired teenager walked in shyly. “Ah, you must be...Ellie, right?” You smiled warmly and approached her. The girl nodded and shuffled her feet a little. She looked at the other students then back at you. You could tell she was nervous. “There’s nothing to worry about Ellie, we’re all here to learn. If you have any questions, please ask.” You put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. 

The girl gave you a small smile and nodded. You began class and enjoyed seeing Ellie becoming more comfortable around the others so quickly. At the end of class, the parents came in to get the kids and some kids left, except Ellie. You were cleaning up the herbs and looked over at her. “Is Tommy coming to get you?” You asked softly. 

“Nah, Joel should be here soon. He’s talking to some people...Is it okay if I stay here until he comes?” She asked. 

You nodded and sat down by a few potted plants. You began trimming the leaves and examining the soil. Ellie walked over to you and sat next to you, she watched what you were doing. “It’s good to trim the leaves that are overgrown to keep the plant healthy and growing. You have to check the soil too.” You said finishing your work. 

“Is it true you’re a nurse as well?” 

“Yes I am, I teaching nursing to all my students, how to clean a wound, how to bandage one, and how to stitch.” 

“That’s cool.” Ellie smiled. 

You smiled back at the girl then looked up when you saw a tall and gruff man in a flannel shirt walk in. 

“There you are Ellie.” He said. 

Ellie turned and smiled, “Hey Joel! Guess what! I learned what not to eat in the wilderness, short answer don’t eat anything that looks delicious!” 

Joel cracked a small smile, “I could’ve told you that.” 

“Yeah but you would just say ‘Because I told you so Ellie’! At least she explains why.” Ellie mimicked Joel right down to the posture. You chuckled softly at the interaction. 

“Is that what I sound like?” Joel raised a brow. 

“All the time.” Ellie smirked. 

“Come on now, you’re embarrassing me in front of the pretty lady.” Joel shook his head. 

“You don’t need my help with that.” Ellie smirked. 

“Get outside, you little shit.” Joel scolded. 

Ellie stuck her tongue out to him and turned to you, “See you tomorrow, teach?” 

“Don’t get into too much trouble.” You chuckled. Ellie left the greenhouse but Joel stayed put. You smiled at him kindly, “Your daughter is sweet, spunky but sweet.” You stood up, dusting off your dress. 

“She’s...Something.” Joel smirked.

You now approached Joel and extended your hand. You introduced yourself and Joel did the same and shook your hand. “Ah, you’re Tommy’s brother...How did I not see it?” You looked him over. 

“Excuse me?” Joel indulged. 

“Tommy described you as scary, gruff, brooding, and silent.” You nodded. Joel just let out a huff. “He did forget to mention that you were handsome.” You grinned. 

Joel met your gaze to see any hint of dishonesty. When he found none, he could feel his cheeks get warm. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself, darlin’.” Joel smiled at you. 

“I know, you called me pretty a few minutes ago.” You winked.

Joel’s smile grew and the tint of pink began to show on his cheeks. 

“Joel! Are you coming?!” Ellie shouted from outside. 

“I better go before she starts throwing rocks.” Joel sighed softly. 

You nodded and went on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, “Have a good night, Joel.” 

Joel blushed more and looked at you softly, “You have a good night as well, teach. If you need anything, I’m your man.” 

You smiled sweetly, “Yes sir.” You watched him walk out of the greenhouse, almost bumping into the door when he was saying bye to you. You giggled softly and your fingers began to play with the locks of your hair. 

You couldn’t wait to see him again.

Tagging: @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @deliciousfestsalad, @alex-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict

[imu-chan]

As the morning wound away into afternoon, Kyojuro considered, not for the first time, his good fortune that none of his family had ever been slain by demons in front of his eyes.

He was no stranger to death, nor violence, but both phenomena tended to haunt people, to float just out of thought, and kept their hooks in the brains of those they had victimized. While death hovered on his shoulder, violence had no grasp on him. He was grateful for that. He must have been in a very contemplative mood today.

With the exception of Mitsuri, he felt he was in a unique position among his fellow slayers. He had grown up strong, not because he had to or was forced to, but because he was strong. He didn’t have to do what he did, but that was why he did it. He wanted those who had no choice to have one offered. He wanted to be the kind of person his mother had been for him.

Sometimes, however, that was easier said than done. He may be an accomplished demon slayer, but his social and domestic skills were in need of a tune-up (or so he had been told).

He’d spent the morning recounting his last mission (his first since his battle with Akaza). Kyojuro had griped about it a little, how he wanted a challenge, and Senjuro had poked him menacingly with a kitchen utensil. Ever since he’d started helping and hanging out at Kocho’s, he had gotten much more talkative and confident. Kyojuro didn’t mind this, but he also didn’t necessarily need a 13-year-old sassing him on his own health.

Nevertheless, he acquiesced, and he and Senjuro had spent most of the afternoon out in town, Senjuro gathering ingredients for some kind of meal he wanted to make, himself picking up some Dutch historical texts he knew deep down he wouldn’t be able to read until he saw either Mitsuri or Giyuu again.

The two of them had become somewhat of a dangerous duo, the only Hashira with fluency in two languages, allowing them to gossip and joke without anyone knowing what they said. Kyojuro had to admit he was eager for the two of them to get along, with Mitsuri much like a sister to him and Giyuu with Kyojuro wrapped around his little finger.

Only Iguro seemed to be opposed (what else was new), as he hated sharing Mitsuri with anyone, especially Giyuu, who he hadn’t quite warmed up to yet. To that effect, the Serpent Hashira bristled every time he heard even a lick of Dutch from his sweetheart; even if it was nothing more than a simple greeting or exclamation.

Quite the opposite was true for Kyojuro, who unabashedly melted whenever Giyuu mumbled something foreign under his breath. Then again, Kyojuro would listen to Giyuu dictate legal statutes if he so desired. His voice, breathy and quiet as it was, had become one of Kyojuro’s favorite sounds.

He was jolted from his pleasant thoughts when Senjuro elbowed him. “Aniki, it’s almost five.”

Kyojuro glanced at the bundle of ingredients in his brother’s arms. “So it is! I suppose the rice needs to be started?”

Senjuro nodded, and not very subtly passed the bundle of rice, nori and noodles to his aniki. “Maybe.”

Kyojuro caught on and grinned. “And I suppose you have more shopping to do?”

“Maybe.”

“Is this you telling me to go home and make my world-famous rice?”

“I don’t think you’re the reason rice is world-famous,” Senjuro joked, but nodded again. “Please? I didn’t realize how many things I needed to get.”

Kyojuro puffed out his chest. “Say no more! Don’t be too late, now! And don’t talk to strangers!”

“I probably will.” Senjuro replied flatly.

“Stranger danger is a very serious social issue, Senjuro—“

“Good-bye, Kyojuro.”

By the time he had all his supplies, it was nearly six, and thus the youngest Rengoku hurried along the frozen path towards his home. His basket was heavy with goods, but it didn’t distract from the gentleness of the darkening night around him.

The market was only a few city blocks length from the Flame Estate, so it wasn’t an arduous walk in the slightest. Senjuro rounded the bend in the path at the edge of the woods, noting how much quicker the wind whipped out in the open air.

He caught only a brief glimpse of a breathtaking sunset sky before someone slammed into him from the opposite direction, knocking the basket out of his hands. Thankfully, it landed upright in the loose snow and suffered no losses.

Senjuro hadn’t fallen, but he had stumbled back a bit, and, trying to regain balance, his hands gripped dusty fabric. He blinked, took a look at the person whose haori he had caught hold of, who now bent forward, catching their breath in front of him.

“Tanjiro!” He beamed, moving his hand to the other boy’s shoulder. When maroon eyes lifted, however, Senjuro’s smile fell, and he felt a twinge of nerves in his gut. “Tanjiro?”

A dry cough. A small smile.

“Senjuro, hey,” Tanjiro’s voice wobbled. He looked fresh from combat, dirty and bruised, his uniform knees torn through. “Good to see a friendly face.”

“Hey yourself. Ara ara,” Senjuro inhaled quietly, his hand coming away from Tanjiro’s shoulder with a faint shadow of blood across it. “Geez, let’s get home, you’re a mess.”

Tanjiro nodded, and accepted Senjuro’s offer to carry Nezuko’s box. He scooped up Senjuro’s basket of goods, and the two set out on the final stretch of road.

“We didn’t receive your crow, I thought you were still on mission.” Senjuro hummed. “Did you run all the way here?”

Tanjiro shook his head, sending snowflakes off in clumps. “I passed out at one point. I think I ran into a tree or something.”

“Ara ara. I know you say you have a hard head, but you’re gonna give yourself another concussion.” Senjuro gently scolded, rubbing his dull fingernails back and forth over the leather strap of Nezuko’s box. Tanjiro cracked a smile at that.

“You’ve been spending too much time at the Butterfly Mansion, you’re starting to sound like Kocho-San!”

“I’ll be sure to tell her you think so.” Senjuro countered, enjoying the glint of surprise in Tanjiro’s eyes.

“You wouldn’t. Would you? Oh man, you totally would. I’ll be dead before dawn.”

Nezuko stirred in her box, perhaps turning in circles, as if defying the thought.

“I think you have half a shot with Nezuko-chan’s help.”

“I think you underestimate Kocho-san’s willingness to poison people.”

Senjuro laughed knowingly at that. “You’re going to see her soon anyway, from the looks of you. You know Aniki is a terrible nurse.”

“I guess she’ll be miffed no matter what happens,” Tanjiro frowned. “Um…especially with me.”

Senjuro glanced at him. “Don’t tell me you’re worse off than Giyuu-San? I figured he must already be there or something.”

It took a moment before Senjuro realized his own footsteps were the only ones he could hear crunching in the snow, so he turned. Tanjiro had his head low again, exhausted out of nowhere. Senjuro halted.

“Tan?”

Tanjiro’s fists clenched, unclenched. They began shivering, pink with cold.

“…you lost your gloves, huh?”

Tanjiro shook his head, began walking again, his face still turned to the ground. “I still have them.”

“Well then why — hey.” Senjuro grabbed his friend’s cold hand and made them stop again. “Did something happen to Giyuu-San?”

His hand was squeezed tight, grip more fierce than the cold. “He’s — alive.” Tanjiro shuddered, as if just now experiencing the winter weather around them for the first time. “But — I’ll tell you at home, I…don’t think I can repeat myself.”

Senjuro’s stomach flipped a little at the way Tanjiro was speaking, so quiet and worn. He wrapped his arm around his friend and hurried them as fast as was manageable back to the house, where his aniki was clumsily attempting to pour an insane amount of brown rice into a serving dish.

Kyojuro turned around as he heard the doors close, and upon seeing the boys, he quickly dried his hands on his black apron. His eyes, bright as usual, then became concerned, narrowing as Senjuro carefully set Nezuko’s box on the ground before darting out of the room to retrieve their stash of medical supplies.

Tanjiro looked like he’d been hit by a wagon, and he stood still, his breath still cold enough to puff into steam as he exhaled. He wouldn’t lift his gaze up from the floor mats.

Kyojuro took the two Kamados in as he approached them, already getting the heavy sensation that tonight wasn’t going to be the happiest of returns. Nezuko, adorable as ever, was snoring rather softly, half-asleep and dazed on the floor, her injuries all but gone thanks to her healing factor.

While he cared for her deeply, Kyojuro had witnessed her demonic battle prowess many times now, and knew by her sleepy state that she was no worse for wear. Her brother, however, was very human, required more care, and by the way he swayed on his feet, it seemed that something very unfortunate had happened to him on his mission.

Tanjiro was still shivering from his travels outside in the winter, and was stubbornly standing, not even reacting to the warm crackling of the fire nor the sound of Kyojuro’s approaching footsteps. He did finally speak, when Kyojuro was close enough to him for his shadow to catch the firelight.

“Kyo-San?”

Kyojuro folded down, balancing on the balls of his feet, and reached out to take one of his tsuguko’s frigid, scabbing hands.

“Welcome back!” Kyojuro began with his usual gusto. “Both of you!”

Nezuko rolled onto her back, and her little demon hand patted Kyojuro’s ankle in acknowledgement. Kyojuro sent her a smile, then focused on her brother.

“Tanjiro-Chan, I’m very glad you’re home,” he carried on steadily, keeping his voice low but warm. “What a state you’re in! Let’s get you fixed up, how about that?”

“Can…I need to send a letter first. To Ubuyashiki-sama.” Tanjiro croaked, sounding on the verge of collapse. His harsh breathing sounded borderline phlegmatic, which Kyojuro tucked away for later thought.

Kyojuro placed his other hand on the boy’s shoulder, steadying him. “Alright,” he answered, not pushing for more information. “We can certainly do that! Use your breathing first, though, you’re still bleeding. Looks like you have a broken rib that’ll need some mending as well.”

Tanjiro nodded, but his nose started to crinkle, so tears weren’t far off. He took in a deep breath, but his exhale slipped into a thin wheeze. “Hurts.”

“Forget Total Concentration, then. Just do what you can.”

Senjuro returned then, with a basin of water and the medical bag over his shoulder. He pulled at Tanjiro’s other shoulder to get him to sit, but Tanjiro didn’t budge. Senjuro began gently dabbing at the blood on Tanjiro’s damaged shoulder, and sent a cautioning look his brother’s way.

“Aniki, something happened to Giyuu-San.”

Well, that certainly sent Kyojuro’s gut into twists. “To…”

Thankfully, Tanjiro distracted him with his first small tears. “Giyuu-u-uu….” He warbled, blinking rapidly. “G-Giyuu got hurt. We got ambushed by an Upper Rank— Upper 2, in the forest…there were a lot of them…”

Kyojuro forced himself to keep calm. “Where is he right now?”

The dam broke. Tanjiro’s next exhale shattered the resistance left, sent him falling forward, into Kyojuro’s arms, his burning muscles giving out and his tears flowing fast. “Upper Two took him—he came out of nowhere—he wants something from — from — I couldn’t do anyth-thing I couldn’t get him out, hah, my sword…”

Tanjiro dissolved into half-sobs, letting Kyojuro and Senjuro smother him in a hug. “I’m so-sohorry…” he gasped, his throat closing, his lungs wheezing with the effort of crying. The hug softly broke.

“It’s not your fault. You mustn’t apologize. Tanjiro,” Kyojuro forced Tanjiro’s teary gaze to meet his own lone eye, sending goosebumps of realization down the boy’s skin. He made his meaning plain. “You are very, very lucky that you weren’t killed. That is not something to apologize for. It is the most important thing you can do.”

“But Giyuu—“

“Giyuu-San,” Kyojuro cut him off, even though his voice quieted a bit, “Protected you. That is the duty of a Hashira. If he weren’t with you…If either of you were alone…you’d be dead. But because you were together, you helped each other, just with your presence.”

Tanjiro sniffled, though he seemed to be calming a little. “I don’t get it.”

Kyojuro sensed a significant depth to this particular sentiment, and did his best to quell his own worries. He squeezed his tsuguko’s hand. “I’ll tell you later. You need some rest.”

“The letter—“

“I’ll take care of it. You’re not writing anything in this state, youngster. We’re going to pay Kocho-San a visit if your wounds start getting infected, so let’s not let that happen.”

Senjuro nudged him again. “Aniki, can you start a bath?”

“On it!” Kyojuro gently patted both of his little brothers on their heads before setting off to do just that. Senjuro pressed the wet washcloth to Tanjiro’s eyebrow, carefully wiping away the dried blood from a slash there.

“He’s right, you know.” Senjuro soothed.

“I know he is,” Tanjiro croaked, his heart feeling raw and small. “I wish he wasn’t.”

And, across the house, heart pounding violently, Kyojuro held his arm under running water, barely feeling it, and considered, not for the first time, his good fortune that none of his family had ever been slain by demons in front of his eyes.

He was grateful for that.

————————

Pt. 2 of Pretty Boy Down

I hope you guys like!

[sednonamoris]

through the valley and the vale

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Once Dutch gets a train robbery out of his system and the snowmelt starts, the Van der Linde gang makes its way to Horseshoe Overlook.

Warnings: Strong language, excessive heckling, references to animal neglect

Word count: 1,966

A/N: A fun little interlude to get us to Horseshoe Overlook, where the real fun begins!! Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion but I love Colter lol. Sad as I am to see her go, I can’t tell you how excited I am to dive into the rest of the story <3

Series masterlist • AO3

—

What was only meant to be a few days while the storm blew over has turned into weeks stuck in this frozen old mining town. With the wagons snowed in as they are there’s no choice but to wait for the thaw, and with each passing day you’re convinced it will never come. Each icicle and snowdrift and visible puff of breath taunts you, but you wait, because there’s nothing else to do. 

Except worry.

You’ve done plenty of that.

You worry for Hosea and the cough that rattles his chest, and for John who’s still bedbound after his attack. For little Jack, not big enough to keep warm on his own, and for Abigail who freezes so that he never goes cold. For Arthur, whose broad shoulders still aren’t wide enough to carry the weight of everyone else’s burdens on his back, as much as he tries. 

You even worry for Dutch, though he’s given you no reason to. Maybe that’s what worries you. 

Instead of lying low and using this opportunity to regroup before the law finds you again, he’s hellbent on stealing the O’Driscoll’s score off some train. Whoever this Cornwall fella is he must be rich, but you’d trade all the riches in the world for safety right now. There will be other trains. There won’t be another Lenny or Ms. Grimshaw or Javier or Reverend Swanson or anyone else you’ve come to call family in the years spent running with this gang. 

Still, where Dutch leads you follow. That’s one thing that’s never changed, and never will.

You’re due to leave for the tracks with him and the others in an hour.

“I should be coming with you,” John says. He’s sitting upright on his cot, looking as serious as he can in threadbare longjohns and bandages that cover half his face. 

“Sure,” you scoff. “You can scare the train to a stop with that ugly mug of yours right before you pass out.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I,” you flick his forehead, and he scowls even as he flinches. “‘Sides, we don’t even have a horse to spare right now, unless you fancy saddlin’ up one of the teamsters.” 

He lets out a frustrated puff of air and looks away. “Could ride double with you.”

The look you give him is meant to be sardonic, but you suspect it just comes off fond. “You’re a stubborn fool, John Marston. Rest. You ‘n me can rob every train from here to Lemoyne once you’re better.” 

“I hate bein’ cooped up in here.”

“I know.”

“I should be out there covering you.”

“I know.” You smile your farewell. “Take it easy, Cowboy. We’ll be back before you know it.”

—

Dusk has already painted the sky in lavenders and golds and soft pinks when you ride back into camp. Moonshine puffs out a pleased snort as you pat his neck in praise. Things certainly didn’t go to plan, but even over a pile of bodies you managed to get the bonds. Hopefully Hosea can find a buyer sooner than later to take them off your hands, once you manage your way down this mountain.

On horseback you weave through the hustle and bustle of everyone else’s earlier arrival. Horses are picketed hither and thither, and Bill has already started passing around drinks. You raise a hand in greeting to Charles and Uncle before sidling up to the empty hitching post beside them, then pause in your tracks when another familiar face tries to greet you. 

John.

He should be inside resting, yet here he stands shivering by the hitching posts. Idiot. The smile that lights his face warms you surer than any fire, but you smother the feeling and fix a scowl on yours instead. 

“Get the hell back inside,” you scold. “Abigail will kill us both if she catches you out here.”

“You were late,” is all he says in his defense. 

You swing down from the saddle and secure the reins to the nearest hitching post. “Had to help Arthur send the train on. He won’t be far behind.”

“Well I ain’t waitin’ for him,” he says, and rubs his hands up and down his arms. “Hurry up, it’s freezing.”

You roll your eyes. “Go on in by the fire. I’ll be quick.”

With a pat to your shoulder he’s quick to do just that, and you busy yourself untacking. At the sound of Charles and Uncle chuckling to themselves you peek suspiciously over Moonshine’s back.

“What’s so goddamn funny?”

“Nothin’,” Uncle giggles, “apart from your little housewife over there.” He pitches his voice high and mocks, “Oh, Ghost, I missed you so much! Hold me close lest I freeze!” 

You level a flat stare. “Fuck off, old man.”

Charles coughs to cover his laugh.

“The both of you! Whole camp to pack and you’re out here gigglin’ like a bunch of schoolgirls. Go on, now.”

They leave, and you press the heels of your palms into your eyes. Most people won’t touch your and John’s friendship with a ten foot pole, but Charles is still new and Uncle… Well, he’s Uncle. You don’t mind, really, but if any of it gets back to Abigail you’re afraid she’ll smother you in your sleep. It’s bad enough the way you tiptoe around each other. 

Still, when you make your way into the warmth of the cabin, the only person John is waiting for is you.

—

Three days of snowmelt later you finally leave Colter.

Most everyone is making the journey by wagon, with the exceptions of Micah, Lenny, and you. Their job is to scout ahead. Yours is to herd the unused horses to wherever it is Hosea says you’ll be able to hide out East. Someplace called Horseshoe Overlook, if you remember right.

John is the last thing to be packed, trundled up and onto one of the wagons in his cot despite several heated protests that he’s fine, and to leave him alone, and can’t he ride with Ghost please his leg is fine now. You just laugh. 

“You’re more’n welcome to ride along,” you tease from atop your horse. “I’ll stick you on The Count and watch him drag you there and back again with one foot stuck in the stirrup. Rub a little dirt on those scars. Makes ‘em heal faster, I hear.”

John groans in defeat.

“That ain’t funny,” Abigail snaps. 

You tip your hat in apology but can’t quite hide your grin when John pulls a face that turns to a wince as the wagon jerks forward and the convoy begins its slow, rumbling descent.

He’ll be fine. With Abigail looking out for him he hasn’t got a choice. 

—

It’s steady going, even with as many of you as there are. You fall behind when the terrain gets rough to set a pace that’s easier on the horses. They’re made of stern stuff, certainly, but with the exception of Brown Jack they’re just not as hardy as the draft crosses that pull the wagons. And anyway, there’s no rush to get there, especially since every day greets you a little more warmly than the last.

Eventually you’re forced to acknowledge that you’re overdressed and pack away the fur-lined coat that’s been like a second skin the past few weeks. You close your eyes and sigh as the first warm breeze of the season kisses your cheeks. The horses are just as pleased by it, kicking up their heels and rolling at every opportune creek or patch of dirt. They also begin to shed that thick layer of late-winter fur they no longer need as the days get longer and lighter. Robins and finches swoop down to snag tufts of it off brambles and bushes - sometimes even off the horses themselves - to use as bedding for the eggs they’re soon to lay.

After the winter you just endured, spring is a welcome relief.

You’ve been camping mostly in open spaces to avoid scavenging bears spooking the herd, but tonight dusk falls while you’re still surrounded by forest. There’s no choice but to head further in and find a spot for the night. You’re prepared to settle for the driest patch of dirt - maybe a little lean-to made of fallen branches if the weather turns - so you really can’t believe your luck when you come upon a cabin instead.

It’s overgrown and unlit, and there’s a hole in the roof, but it’ll do for a night. There’s even a little stable with a round pen beside it for you to put up horses. Although— 

There’s a horse already there.

You ground tie Moonshine and sweep the house for its rider, pistol at the ready. Floorboards creak beneath your boots but no one is there. The barn is just as empty. 

Strange. 

The moment you approach the big gelding he whinnies. It’s a desperate sound that tugs at your heartstrings. Good thing whoever left him here is long gone, or you’d have killed them for sure; he’s in poor condition. Up to his pasterns in piss and shit, and skinny to boot. 

“Easy now, old boy,” you tell him. “We’ll get you sorted.”

You’re quick to hobble the herd for the night and set them up just outside the round pen. Once they’ve settled you get to work cleaning up your new friend. The footing in his paddock is too far gone to bother fixing for a night, so you focus on what you can do. The few flakes of hay that haven’t gone with mold you toss into a relatively dry corner. While he munches away you remove weeks’ worth of muck and grime from his coat. Beneath it all he’s a gorgeous liver chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail. There’s some scalding on his legs, but a bit of salve and days spent on the dry roads will clear it right up. 

It’s not even a question that he’s coming with you. 

Maybe after getting picked up yourself all those years ago you��ve got a soft spot for strays, but you’d never be able to leave a horse behind knowing it won’t make it another week alone. Besides, you know someone in the market for a new horse.

—

You arrive at Horseshoe Overlook two days behind the rest of the gang, motley herd in tow. 

Everyone rushes out to greet you when you arrive and take the horses off your hands, but John is already at the hitching posts, waiting. 

“What took you so long?” he shades his eyes to look up at you and smirks. Cheeky coming from someone who was waited upon in a wagon the whole way here. 

“I got somethin’ for you,” you say. His brow furrows when you point to the big gelding, still underweight but already with a healthier shine to his coat. 

“An underfed nag?” 

You shrug. “Made me think of you.”

“Real nice,” he scoffs, but he can’t hide the thoughtful smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth when he takes a better look. He’s always liked a horse that takes up his leg. This one definitely will. Just needs a few weeks of feed and care, and John’s got plenty of time for that while he heals. 

“If you don’t want ‘im that’s fine, but you better get that thing up to weight before you sell it,” you warn, but you’re not worried.

He’ll keep him. It’s written all over his face. You toss over the tub of salve you mixed and smile fondly after him as he goes up to greet his new horse. He’s still limping, a little, but the concern that’s had your chest in a vice for so long eases off watching them interact.

Things… well, they might turn out alright.

[theworldofotps]

She’s Four Weeks!

The Demon Dad series, following Bálor as he navigates parenthood.

Word Count: 596 Description: Bálor tries to figure out what to do with a human baby.

Masterlist Big thanks to @ava-valerie for this idea, I hope you all enjoy.

Thank you @new-zealand-chic for beta reading for me and helping add. _____________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @rebellious-desires @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @letsgivethisonemoreshot @mcreignsera @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin@melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsmunsonx @mcreignsera  If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. ___________ “Are you sure you will be okay watching the baby while I shower?”

You ask your husband Finn as you gathered your clothing, the baby was napping and you wanted to enjoy a nice hot shower while you had the chance.

“Of course love, there’s nothing to worry about you go ahead and enjoy your shower. If the baby wakes then I’ll handle it.”

Nodding you kiss him before heading off to enjoy a few minutes to yourself. Finn grabbed the baby monitor and returned to the kitchen so he could finish making lunch for the two of you. What he hadn’t expected was Bálor to pop through, the demon king planned to surprise you. 

“Where is y/n?”

“She’s upstairs taking a shower, a little warning before you just pop through would have been nice you know.”

“Be that as it may we both know I’m not nice.” 

Bálor says as he looked around the kitchen, making his way to the living room he sits on the couch and slightly recoiled when he saw the baby staring at him. 

“Why is it just staring?” 

“Because she just woke up that’s why, just say hi to her.”

Bálor gave a little wave. “Um hi.” 

Y/c/n made a little noise and yawned causing Finn to laugh. 

“Looks like she’s bored of you already.” 

“How on earth could you be bored of me, you literally eat, sleep, and shit. Plus that awful crying, it’s annoying.”

“Be nice to her!” 

“Okay okay, fine damn you don’t need to yell…” 

Bálor watches your child for a few minutes before gently tapping his hands on his knees. 

“Sooo.” He says watching the baby as he tried to think. “Do you want a beer?”

“She’s four weeks old!” 

“I don’t know! What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Try just talking to her, don’t let y/n know you offered our baby alcohol.”

“Why would I talk to it,  she obviously can’t answer me back… Does it do any tricks?”

“SHE’s not a dog!”

“I was just wondering, babies of important demons can have powers.”

“We won’t know until she’s older, why would you like her more than?”

Finn asked, amusement evident in his voice it was different seeing the demon king struggle with something he had never dealt with before.

“Possibly, maybe not. Okay, what to do with you?”

“Why don’t you turn the swing on that’s always a big hit.”

Standing, Bálor walked over to the swing and looked around for an on button. He had never used one of these before but he was the king it shouldn’t be too hard.

“Top green button.”

“Yes, I see that I was just examining it.”

Rolling his eyes Bálor pressed the button and then stepped back watching as it began to swing. Y/c/n looks around and babbles as the swing starts, moving excitedly before relaxing back into the seat.

“Human babies are so strange, this must be your doing.”

“Hey! She’s not strange our baby is a sweetheart.”

“Except when she wakes up screaming in the middle of the night for food and because she’s soiled herself.”

“You’re such a bummer don’t let our wife hear you saying this stuff you may not see the promised land for a while if you do.”

“Then I think it’s best I come back at another time.”

“Good idea.”

Sitting back on the couch so Finn wouldn’t pass out Bálor looks at the baby once more.

“Farewell small offspring I’ll see you next time.”

Closing his eyes Bálor returns back to his kingdom this ‘parenthood’ was going to be one hell of a long journey.

[themastermarkus]

Arthur Morgan's a Hypocrite (and that's okay), but so is Some of the Fandom (and that's...not)

Excuse me for this being less polished than I'd like, but I've been thinking about it, and I want to post it. Do comment if you have any thoughts or further examples! Of course, this ends up getting a bit...Micah-focused, but...That's because it's me. Arthur is a hypocrite, but this isn’t a bad thing for his character. However, I do think that too few fans give credence to this fact (and I will admit that sometimes the honour system and side missions can make Arthur’s morality a little fuzzy and often result in him looking “more good” on account of how many involve helping someone), and this unfortunately factors into the deep hatred that some people have towards Micah (which also results in jumping to conclusions, like saying “Micah is a sexual predator” or “Micah was going to betray the gang all along” or “Micah mistreats his horse” regardless of if it would make logical sense or if there's evidence to back it up), as well as the tendency to ignore Dutch’s flaws because that’s what Arthur does.

An example of Arthur's hypocrisy and bias that really sticks in my mind is when he is angry at Micah for making him help shoot up Strawberry in “Blessed are the Meek?”. This would be an understandable reaction, but when similar things happen in “The Sheep and the Goats” where he has to shoot up Valentine because of Dutch and John and later in Saint Denis during “Urban Pleasures”, Arthur is annoyed afterwards, but he’s far less outraged at being part of a massacre when Dutch causes it. By no means am I claiming that this is unrealistic (of course he trusts and likes the guy who raised him over a man who joined the gang six months ago), just that it’s notable and would be unfair to say something like “Well, of course Arthur hates Micah after making him kill several people in Strawberry!”

Arthur hates Micah, but is almost always strangely non-specific about it. Like, there are totally valid reasons to hate Micah, like the racism and general bullying, but Arthur doesn’t really bring those things up when talking about Micah. At most, he expresses a dislike of how Micah is so hot-headed and quick to violence, has a cold-blooded attitude towards death (as seen when Sean dies, though to give Micah the benefit of the doubt, he may have had a different reaction to the death of someone he liked), and Arthur is always suspicious of Micah trying to manipulate Dutch. During the ending section of Chapter 5 (and into Chapter 6) Arthur will start greeting Micah with things like “I know what you’re trying to do” (and yes, greeting, not antagonizing) even though at that point there has been no indication that Micah has done anything except get to the rest of the gang before Arthur has and is sticking around Dutch more (Arthur is right to be suspicious, but…how would he know at that point?). Maybe that’s just a developer/writer oversight, but I can neither confirm nor deny that.

Regarding how Arthur talks to Micah, when “greeting” Micah after he’s been bullying another character, Arthur tends towards saying something like “can’t you just leave them alone?” in a way that sounds genuine, but not particularly emotionally charged. And during some of the conversations where Micah expresses his dislike for the more “useless” members of the gang, Arthur doesn’t really tell him off. Does Arthur not think of this bullying as particularly concerning? Is this lack of response perhaps reflective of the fact that Arthur, and others including Dutch, the leader, will sometimes bully other members, particularly Bill? And will some people who dislike Micah say that it’s okay that other characters bully Bill because he’s also mean to others sometimes? For a clear, comparable example of both Arthur and Micah being assholes, Arthur is just as, if not arguably more mean to Bill about his name being Marion that Micah is! Micah says “your parents must have hated you before they met you, explains a lot” and then walks away saying Bill’s secret is safe with him (is he being honest? It’s unclear, but he's talking quietly like it's a personal conversation and doesn’t push Bill into getting more upset). Meanwhile Arthur is loudly exclaiming “Hey, Mary!” and “Sorry, Ma’am” about it—Which is funny, but…definitely a dick move. Micah said a mean thing, but at least he wasn’t trying to attract other people’s negative attention to Bill. This isn't a time where I think what Micah said was okay—he was still being cruel, just...quietly—but my point is that you can't exactly say something like "What Micah said was bad, but what Arthur said is fine" while being totally honest.

[ageless-aislynn]

Okay, so I have a habit of talking out loud to my Halo game while I play. For example, in Halo 3 ODST, “Uplift Rising” there’s a point where one of the marines asks you (Dutch) to do something about the Wraiths and I inevitably say, “Well, pal, I’ll try but they’re probably going to kill me a few times first.” It’s just my thing. 😁

Then I got to thinking that I tend to call many of the characters by some sort of pet/nickname (except for my ODST team, oddly; I just call them by their names 🤷‍♀️). So here, for your reading pleasure (???) are the off-the-cuff things I call other characters in the Halo games:

*SPOILERS FOR ALL GAMES MENTIONED*

Halo: Combat Evolved

Captain Keyes - Dad (He started it by calling me son when he gave me his Magnum so that’s not on me 😇)

Cortana - Babe (She’ll say something like “Keep your head down, there’s two of us in here now, you know!” and I’ll say something back like, “I’m doing my best here, babe!”)

The Flood Infection forms - Cabbages (“Get away from me, you evil little cabbages!” Must be said with ABSOLUTE BLAZING SCORN as well. 😡😂)

All other Flood forms - Bozos (“Get away from me, you buncha Bozos!” Note: that’s referring to the clown, not the guy who started Amazon, a small but distinct difference in spelling. 🤷‍♀️😇)

Halo 2

Sgt Avery Johnson - Boss (He’ll complain that I made him trade his sniper rifle for whatever “lesser” gun I had and I’ll say, “Sorry, boss. Them’s the breaks.”)

The Elites who show up to help the Arbiter - My Good Dudes (They’ll be all “Look, it’s the Arbiter!” and I’ll say, “Thanks for coming, my good dudes! I appreciate it!”)

The Grunts who show up to help the Arbiter - My Good Little Dudes

Rtas ‘Vadum/Shipmaster - Bud (As in ”Good of you to show up, Bud!” or “Well, I’d rather you’d come down the elevator with me since you’re invincible, Bud, but stay here if that’s what you’ve gotta do.”)

Halo: Reach

Carter - Sir (Apparently the only member of Noble Team I respect??? 🤷‍♀️😇 Except I sometimes get a bit of an attitude about it. He’s all “Hurry up and get that AA gun offline, Six!” and I’ll say “I’m literally TRYING, sir. Like, right this second, I’m trying but they’re shooting at me.”)

Kat - Baby (I spend way too much time trying to coax her into getting into a Warthog with me: “Come on, baby, just get in the Warthog and we’ll go destroy the AA gun. It’ll be fun, I promise!!!”)

Jun - Pal (He’ll tell me I assassinated that Elite really nicely and I’ll give him a chipper, “Thanks, pal, that means a lot to me!”)

Emile - Baby Boy (I have no idea why I call him and only him this but I do it the entire game, lol. “Baby boy, I’m just trying to save your life here, trust me!”)

Jorge - I call him by his name but almost always add “I love you” to it. “Jorge, I love you, thanks for taking out that Skirmisher, he was about to shoot my butt off!” Occasionally might give him a “big man” but always with the ILU. Because I freakin’ love Jorge. 🥰

Halo 3

Cortana - Sweetheart (She has a rough go of things in this one so most of the time it’s a very sympathetic sweetheart, unless she interrupts me with a vision and I nearly die because of it. “Sweetheart, I appreciate that you’re hurting but you’re gonna get me killed if you keep doing that!”)

Sgt Avery Johnson - Bro (If you know this game, you know when I was saying, “No, bro, NOOOOOOO...” 😭😭😭 But previously, when he was up on the hill sniping the Flood for me, I kept saying, “Thanks, bro!”)

The Flood Stalker forms - Evil Spiders (Kinda self-explanatory if you’ve ever seen them skittering around. *shudder*)

The Flood Tank forms - TAAAAAAANK!!! (Very helpful to say out loud in order to warn, um, myself that one of them is coming at me. 😳🤷‍♀️)

Master Chief - Since this is, uh, me in all of the games, I usually just say something like “Chief’s coming, hang on!” but in this game, in the Cortana level where you rescue her and she’s all mentally wrecked and tells you she wants to get out of there, I hand-to-God blurted out, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, Big Daddy’s got you!” 😳😳😳 I have no idea where that came from. I just... Yeah. Whatever. Emotions were running high at the time, what can I say? 😳😳😳😇

Annnd that’s all that I can think of at the moment and I think that’s actually plenty, lol! Oh and as you might’ve noticed, I just finished Halo 3. My feelings were a little mixed as I was playing it, GOOD LAWD some of these levels are LONG, but I appreciate it more now that I’m done. I’m going to go back and explore the levels more, have some fun with them, now that I’m not *game on, face* trying to win, you know? 😣😉

Big Daddy, out.

[pandorasboxoftreasures]

I BRINGETH!

Hate to admit it, don’t wanna name names. 

But the level of structural accuracy of canon Na’vi character fanart MUST improve.

It’s been 6 months now. And I still keep seeing some very high quality art in amazing styles, however, the characters themselves are severely lacking in their accuracy.

I’ve been pointing out what I can about the worst victim of this, Recom “Ritch” Quaritch, and I’ve noticed people have been paying more attention and noticing these little things on their own. It’s great seeing artists working hard and perfecting their skills.

I hate as an artist to have to say that it’s not been enough for quite a lot of artists I’ve seen so far. I know everybody is improving and working hard. Including myself. And everyone has to start drawing Na’vi somewhere.

But I think I need to nudge things along a bit more. And I recently discovered a new way that may help.

Using a painting filter to basically give each character human-ish skin and eyeballs. (Unfortunately only in one light tone which is very frustrating but I guess it’s consistent and the lighter shade will make details harder to miss in different lighting situations) Clearing up the beautiful to observe but visually cluttering to study and paint details and colour palettes. Some of you may find this horrifying, I dunno. A warning anyway.

For months whenever people tell me “He’s ugly in the movie!” I’d rebuke with “He’s classically beautiful. Like works from the Italian and Dutch masters. Like the ancient sculptures of Rome. Slap him down on a couch in front of Da Vinci or Michelangelo and they’d piss themselves with sheer awe.”

Well, here’s the proof... kinda... using screenshots I’ve collected and made myself in as many angles as I could fit together for now with different levels of quality until I can get my 4K inputs sorted :

STOP JUST PAINTING HIM BELOW THE NECK!  YOU HAVE NO EXCUSES NOW!

Try rendering him similar to this in your target or individual style, and THEN put the Na’vi detailing on top. See if it makes a difference.

Granted, the filter only worked on some angles (I have more images to add later too) and it did make some very minor alterations, I did my best to mimise them, regardless take note. And it couldn’t get every little crease. But with how much missing the mark there’s been anyway, I guess aiming for this is still better than the status quo (again not naming names except for maybe myself).

I’m gonna be doing this with other characters, too. I simply figured starting with him would both be the best test as to whether this would help as well as fight the tide of “this artwork is amazing but who the hell is that guy” disease.

It might also be worth my while to morph these together and see what I get. 1 uniform face for each character. Guess I’ll see what happens with the others.

Note the other posts I’ve made about the finer details like moles and freckles past and future as companions to this one. 

I’ve also got another post coming up about the consistencies and differences of the patterns in the bioluminescent freckles each Na’vi subspecies has so watch out for that if you’re interested.

(SO GLAD TO BE ABLE TO SHOW HOW VISUALLY DISTINCT HE IS FROM HIS HUMAN DONOR, TOO! LIKE DAMN. THEY HAVE THEIR SIMILARITIES OF COURSE BUT I SHOULD PROBABLY DO THE SAME TO HUMAN QUARITCH SEE WHAT SHOWS UP)

UPDATE HOLD UP I THINK I FIGURED OUT A BETTER WAY OF DOING THIS BY USING THE PAINTING FILTER AS A BRIGHTNESS LAYER WITH THE ORIGINAL IMAGE COLOURS UNDERNEATH BEHOLD MUCH BETTER RESULTS AND NOT HUMANWASHING I’LL TRY AND REDO THE ORIGINAL IMAGES THIS WAY:

[vasco-portable-translators]

Top interesting facts about Japan

Welcome to the land of sushi, samurais, and sumo! Japan, where ancient traditions blend seamlessly with cutting-edge technology. Think you know all about Japan or Japanese people? Think again! From quirky cultural practices to jaw-dropping landmarks, there's always something new to discover. So, let's see what are some interesting facts about Japan that will make you want to pack your bags and say "Konnichiwa!" (the Japanese word for "hello"). Curious facts about Japan: General take As we dive deeper into cool things about Japan, let's fact-check some of the most common beliefs. - ~4,000 Islands: Japan consists of more than just four main islands. There are thousands more to explore, each with its own unique beauty and culture. No wonder it's called "an island nation". - Cherry Blossoms: Wondering when do cherry blossoms bloom in Japan? Late March to early April is sakura season, turning the country into a pink paradise. Perfect for "hanami" (flower viewing) parties! - Samurai and Shoguns: These fierce warriors uphold a strict code of honor known as "bushido." Their legacy still influences everything, from martial arts to modern media. - Noodle Slurping: In Japan, slurping your noodles isn’t rude—it’s encouraged! It shows you’re enjoying your meal. So, slurp away! FAQ: What are the most interesting facts about Japan? Japan is known to be a country of 6,800 islands. It's also popular for its cherry blossoms in spring and Mount Fuji. It's also a country with a surprisingly high number of vending machines. Why is Mount Fuji important to Japanese culture? It's a center of spiritual practices & an important asset to their cultural heritage. A lot of Buddhists make their way there to practice meditation. When is the best time to see cherry blossoms in Japan? Cherry blossoms ("sakura") are typically in bloom between March and April. This is the best period for traveling if you wish to see them. What happened during Japan's isolation period? During the isolation period ("Edo"), Japan banned trade and cultural exchange with the whole world, with small exceptions for the Netherlands, Korea, and China. Despite that, it was a period of rich art & cultural development. Which Japanese festivals should I visit? Must-go festivals include Gion Matsuri, Sapporo Snow Festival, and the Obon festivals. Interesting historical facts about Japan Japan’s history is a treasure trove of fascinating tales and pivotal moments. Let’s take a quick tour through some of the most significant periods: - Ancient Origins: Japan’s early civilization dates back thousands of years. Think Jomon pottery and Yayoi rice paddies. - Samurai and Shogun Era: The time of the samurais, who were more than just warriors—they were also the backbone of Japanese culture. Their code of honor, known as bushido, still influences many aspects of Japanese life today. - The Isolation Period (Edo Period): From the early 17th to mid-19th century, Japan entered a period of isolation under the Tokugawa Shogunate. This era, also known as the Edo period, was characterized by strict social order and limited foreign interaction. Here’s what made it unique: - Sakoku Policy: The Sakoku policy restricted foreign relations and trade, except with the Dutch, Chinese, and Koreans, who were confined to specific ports. - Cultural Flourishing: Despite isolation, this period saw a blossoming of arts, literature, and culture. Ukiyo-e woodblock prints, kabuki theater, and haiku poetry became quintessentially Japanese, reflecting the vibrant spirit of the time. - Meiji Restoration: This period transformed Japan from a feudal society into a modern industrial power. It’s like watching a country go through a major glow-up! The Meiji Restoration began in 1868, ending centuries of shogunate rule and restoring imperial power under Emperor Meiji. - World War II and Post-War Recovery: Japan’s resilience and rapid recovery post-WWII is nothing short of miraculous. From the ashes of defeat, Japan emerged as a global economic powerhouse, with advancements in technology and industry that continue to shape the modern world. These periods have shaped Japan into the unique and vibrant country it is today. The blend of old and new is what makes Japan so intriguing to explore! Geographical wonders Japan’s geography is as diverse as it is stunning. From towering mountains to serene beaches, this country in East Asia has something for everyone. Mount Fuji An iconic symbol of Japan, Mount Fuji is not just a "pretty face". It’s also a cultural and spiritual beacon. Here's why: - Spiritual Significance: Mount Fuji has been a site of pilgrimage for centuries. Shintoists and Buddhists alike consider it sacred, and it’s believed to be the home of Konohanasakuya-hime, the goddess of Mount Fuji and all volcanoes. You can find wonderful Buddhist temples here, and more. - Cultural Influence: The mountain’s majestic presence has inspired countless works of art, literature, and poetry. - Pilgrimage and Rituals: Every year, thousands of pilgrims climb Mount Fuji during the official climbing season (July to September). The ascent is often a spiritual journey, with climbers stopping at various shrines and torii gates along the way. - UNESCO World Heritage Site: Recognized as a cultural site, Mount Fuji's status underscores its importance in Japanese history and culture, attracting visitors from around the globe who seek both rich cultural heritage and spiritual enlightenment. Volcanic activity Japan’s volcanic activity has created a landscape dotted with hot springs (onsen). Perfect for a relaxing soak after a day of exploring. Climate zones Japan’s climate ranges from Hokkaido’s snowy winters to Okinawa’s tropical paradise. Pack accordingly! Islands and coastlines Japan’s islands offer diverse experiences, from the bustling streets of Tokyo to the tranquil beaches of Okinawa. - Rabbit Island: Okunoshima, also known as Rabbit Island, is famous for its friendly, free-roaming rabbits. This island offers a unique and adorable experience for animal lovers, with hundreds of bunnies eager to greet visitors. Japanese gardens Japanese gardens are serene oases that blend natural beauty with meticulous design. Featuring elements like water, rocks, and pruned trees, these gardens symbolize harmony and tranquility. Each component has symbolic meaning, with ponds representing oceans and stones symbolizing mountains. Whether in a zen garden in Kyoto or enjoying blooms at Tokyo's Rikugien, each Japanese garden offers a peaceful retreat into nature's artistry. Interesting Japanese traditions Japan is a land of fascinating traditions and quirky customs. Let’s see what are some most interesting facts about Japanese culture: - Tea Ceremony: The Japanese tea ceremony, or "chanoyu," is more than just drinking tea. It’s a choreographed ritual of preparation and presentation. Every movement, every gesture is performed with grace and precision. It’s all about harmony, respect, purity, and tranquility. - Festivals (Matsuri): Japan loves its festivals! From the boisterous Gion Matsuri in Kyoto to the snowy Sapporo Snow Festival, there’s always something to celebrate. Each festival has its own unique history and set of customs, making them a fun and educational experience. - Etiquette and Manners: Japanese etiquette might seem strict, but it’s rooted in respect for others. For example, always remove your shoes before entering someone’s home, and never stick your chopsticks upright in a bowl of rice—it resembles a funeral ritual! - Pop Culture Influence: Japan is the birthplace of anime and manga, which have taken the world by storm. From Studio Ghibli’s enchanting films to popular series like "Naruto" and "Attack on Titan," Japanese pop culture has a massive global following. - Japanese New Year Traditions: New Year’s (Shogatsu) is the most important holiday in Japan. It’s a time for family gatherings, special foods like osechi-ryori, and traditional games. Many visit shrines for hatsumode, the first shrine visit of the year, to pray for good fortune. If you would like to know about more curious facts about Japan, check out our article on weird Christmas traditions. There's one part where we talk about Japanese culture as well! Technological marvels Japan is a leader in technological innovation. Here are some of the coolest things about Japan in the tech world: - Advanced Public Transportation: The Shinkansen, or bullet train, is famous for its speed and punctuality. It’s a marvel of engineering that makes traveling across Japan a breeze. It's also the reason why Japanese trains are known in the whole world. - Cutting-Edge Innovations: Japan is at the forefront of robotics and automation. From robots that assist in daily chores to high-tech toilets with more functions than your smartphone, the future is now in Japan. - Sustainable Practices: Japan is also a pioneer in sustainability: it's making strides in renewable energy, waste management, and eco-friendly technologies. Tokyo’s Olympic Stadium, for example, was built with sustainability in mind. Culinary Delights Japanese cuisine is a feast for the senses. Here are some facts about Japanese culture through its food: - Regional Specialties: Each region in Japan has its own culinary specialties. In Hokkaido, savor fresh seafood like crab and sea urchin. In Osaka, indulge in street food favorites like takoyaki (octopus balls) and okonomiyaki (savory pancakes). - Street Food: Don’t miss the vibrant street food scene! Enjoy yakitori (grilled chicken skewers), taiyaki (fish-shaped pastries filled with sweet red bean paste), and much more. These tasty treats are perfect for eating on the go. - Traditional Dining Experiences: For a truly authentic experience, try a kaiseki meal, which is a multi-course dinner that showcases seasonal ingredients. Dining at an izakaya (Japanese pub) is also a great way to experience local culture and cuisine. Unique Attractions Japan is full of unique attractions that cater to all interests. Here are some unusual facts about Japan you shouldn’t miss: - Temples and Shrines: Must-visit spiritual sites include Kyoto’s Fushimi Inari Shrine with its thousands of red torii gates, and Tokyo’s Senso-ji Temple, the city’s oldest temple. - Modern Architecture: Marvel at the futuristic Tokyo Tower, the innovative Kyoto Station, and the mesmerizing TeamLab Borderless digital art museum. - Natural Wonders: Japan’s natural beauty is breathtaking. Walk through the Arashiyama Bamboo Grove in Kyoto, visit the iconic Itsukushima Shrine on Miyajima Island, and relax in the coastal beauty of the Izu Peninsula. - Quirky Museums and Parks: Explore the Cup Noodles Museum in Yokohama, the Ramen Museum in Osaka, and the whimsical Studio Ghibli Museum in Mitaka. - Vending Machines: Japan is the only country with such a high density of vending machines in the world. A Japanese vending machine offers everything from drinks and snacks to umbrellas and fresh flowers. They are a testament to the country's love for convenience and innovation. Practical Tips for Travelers Traveling in Japan is a breeze with a few handy tips: - Navigating Transportation: The JR Pass is a must for unlimited travel on JR trains. Mastering the metro systems and renting bikes are also great ways to get around. - Language Barriers: Learning a few basic Japanese phrases can go a long way. Phrases like "Arigato" (Thank you) and "Sumimasen" (Excuse me) are essential. - Cultural Sensitivity: Respect local customs. Bowing is a common greeting, and being quiet on public transportation is appreciated. - Technology Tips: Useful apps like Google Maps, Hyperdia for train schedules, and translation devices can make your travel smoother. Enhance Your Trip with Vasco Translator Traveling to the country of cherry blossoms can be challenging if you don’t speak the Japanese language. But not with Vasco Translator. - What It Is: Vasco Translator is a state-of-the-art AI translator that helps you communicate effortlessly in multiple languages. - Benefits in Japan: Overcome language barriers, ask for directions, order food, and engage with locals confidently. Vasco voice translator is your travel companion for a hassle-free experience. - Why Vasco? This smart translator comes with an in-built SIM card. It basically means you can get online translation anywhere in the world with GSM access. It's free and works forever for all translation apps on the device. Conclusion From ancient traditions to futuristic innovations, Japan is a land of endless discoveries. Whether you're marveling at cherry blossoms, exploring historical landmarks, or enjoying culinary delights, there's always something new and exciting around every corner. Don’t forget to bring along your Vasco Translator to make the most of your journey. Happy travels! Nutshell Japan, where tradition meets modernity, offers a treasure trove of experiences. From the spiritual allure of Mount Fuji to the serene beauty of Japanese gardens, nature's artistry abounds. Discover the rich history of samurais and shoguns, the isolation period, and the rapid transformation during the Meiji Restoration. Marvel at advanced technology like the Shinkansen and explore quirky aspects like vending machines and Rabbit Island. Indulge in regional culinary delights, participate in vibrant festivals, and embrace the intricate tea ceremony. Don't miss the cherry blossoms in spring or the unique Japanese New Year traditions. Enhance your travel with the Vasco Translator for a seamless, enriching experience. Japan is a land of endless discoveries, waiting to enchant you! Read the full article

[sportsbetting721]

Finest Sports Activities Betting Sites In Singapore 2023 Get Sgd800 Bonus

The OnexTwo online sportsbook of their capability has created a properly designed cell app to satisfy the yearning demands of bettors who want to place bets via their cell gadgets. Worthy to mention is that the OnexTwo on-line sportsbook additionally has a properly crafted cell model that may be a cloned model of the online version, however created particularly for cellular devices of iOS and Android gizmos. Stake is a popular option for betting crypto on sports activities and casino games for lots of causes, together with their neat consumer interface, and the number of sports/games they offer. While they don't provide a welcome bonus, they are probably the greatest crypto gambling websites around when it comes to VIP perks, cashback, and bonuses. All forms of gambling are unlawful in Thailand, except for the government-sponsored Thai lottery and betting on horse racing at chosen racetracks. This does not mean that unlawful gambling does not take place in Qatar.

In fact, Qataris are fond of placing bets online with offshore sportsbooks, regardless of the country’s efforts to block on-line sportsbooks that accept bets from its residents. Despite this, individual players are low priority instances within the eyes of authorities, and it is unlikely that a Qatari player could be caught and penalized for betting on-line. No bookie will offer you the best odds throughout all sports and leagues, but some bookmakers have glorious proposals on a specific sport. For example, one sportsbook may have unbelievable betting odds on horse racing, however its football odds could be worse than another bookie’s. So if you’re questioning whether or not on-line mobile betting in Singapore is available, the answer is a convincing sure.

The guidelines and variety of the available markets are dynamic and continues to develop. Besides the quite a few groups and leagues and community ranges, there is a nationwide sports betting Singapore volleyball staff for each men and women. The staff has performed in opposition to different regional teams at a aggressive stage.

Find one of the best odds, range of sports and bookies for Dutch punters right here. In our humble opinion, crypto is the currency of the current and future, with a variety of advantages when used on crash playing websites. Although you might have a wonderful selection of crash gambling websites, some are much better than others.

accounts, the history behind an article. Submitting this type under will send a message to your e-mail with a hyperlink to alter your password. Client was trying to have a easy, trendy and distinctive design of a web site that allows costumers to search and guide amenities. The design ought to help each Arabic and English, and styled for light/cold colors. A unique and engaging landing web page design for an outside attire firm. Redesigning the expertise and visuals for a product that encourage physical activity via wearable gadgets.

In truth, it is rare for standard crash websites to care a great deal about promotions. Other VIP program perks may embrace particular items and access to distinctive games. The factors system, where gamers get redeemable factors (usually 1 level per $1 spent), is among the many best-known VIP bonuses. Although Bitcoin crash websites can’t match the above, they can create a VIP package that pulls and retains big spenders. Assuming you wish to win money more often, we suggest finding out the return-to-player (RTP) proportion of every recreation you play.

Regular users of crash gambling websites know that there's an array of various bonuses on offer. However, if you are sitting here considering that you’d win each single considered one of them because you invested more cash, you are mistaken. With sports betting, not solely must you make an knowledgeable wager, but you also wants to guarantee that you're putting practical bets and not randomized ones.

We will only show web sites accepting clients out of your nation. In each sport, there are chances that we’d have a favourite team and player. While it is completely nice in personal life to have favorites, you can’t let that affect your selections in relation to the wager. There are possibilities that your favourite participant or team might be taking part in very unhealthy since the previous couple of matches.

Online sports betting is the one exception to the rule – offered you gamble with a sportsbook licensed to commerce in South Africa. As lately as September 2020, the National Gambling Board of South Africa issued a statement making it “emphatically clear” that no online playing exercise is authorized within the nation except online sports betting. There are additionally no full-service online sportsbooks in Japan, as they aren’t formally legalized. Despite this, there are quite a few offshore operators who're pleased to simply accept bets from Japanese bettors.

Betting from cellular devices has become extremely popular over the last decade, and it’s a type of trade normal for all sportsbooks to offer it to their prospects. Excluding land-based bookies, no single online sportsbook doesn’t offer its clients an option to guess from their telephones – either from a cell betting app or through a mobile website. For instance, you probably can bet on Singaporean sports groups and leagues and worldwide competitions across varied sports activities, including football, cricket, winter sports, and more.

The deposit and withdrawal options might differ from bookie to bookie, and it is important to use a bookmaker that works with the native SGD foreign money to minimise further fees and foreign money conversion expenses. Singaporean bookmakers settle for credit and debit playing cards issued by Visa, and MasterCard but the government typically decline a few of them. Several banks are prohibited from making transfers to foreign-based gambling websites. If this occurs, gamblers can use alternate options like PayPal, which is widely supported by offshore bookies. Searching for the best sports betting app, we now have evaluated different factors corresponding to ease of use, similarly with the net site model, and theme used. We also examine if there are regular updates, and if it supports Android phones, iOS, and tablets.

CryptoManiaks reviewers get in contact with the site’s customer support team, noting how quickly an agent responds and whether they were helpful. Our team investigates the overall commonplace of customer service on each website we evaluation. Consequently, you should pay particular consideration to the status of crash websites with crypto.

No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that's degrading to a different person. Use the 'Report' link on every comment to tell us of abusive posts. We'd love to hear eyewitness

The list of sportsbooks for Spanish bettors to choose from is big and, in addition to native operators, lots of the greatest worldwide sportsbook are licensed to supply on-line betting right here too. Before the Remote Gambling Act there was no statement in Singapore’s regulation which specifically said that it was unlawful for residents to wager on sports activities occasions at offshore on-line sportsbooks. This means many Singaporeans have accounts with offshore online sportsbooks corresponding to Bet365, William Hill, and Ladbrokes. Although illegal to use, it’s not unusual for worldwide sportsbooks to simply accept new customers from Singapore.

Each one has a preferred niche, however before that, you should be aware of how they work, what’s concerned in inserting a wager, and how one can win with every sort. After that, you’ll be ready to put a wager in any of the betting sites in Singapore. Currently, almost all betting websites offer attractive bonuses to draw new gamers and maintain the existing ones. Betting presents vary from free spins, cash bonus, and referral bonus among others. While they usually look attractive to gamers, it is essential to perceive the phrases and situations imposed on them. Rugby Union isn't main sports in Singapore, but there are numerous upcoming groups to examine out for such as Singapore Wanderers Rugby Club.

Their opponents, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, could additionally be priced at +145, and you’ll have to guess $100 to win $145 – a complete return of $245. Gambling in China is in opposition to the law beneath Chinese regulation and has been officially outlawed for the explanation that Chinese Communist Party (CCP) took energy in 1949. If you want a tremendous sports activities web site that stands out from the competition, work with a professional designer. Find and rent a designer to make your vision come to life, or host a design contest and get concepts from designers around the world. Sport Draft is a fantasy sports website, primarily focusing on soccer (soccer). The Mobile adaptation is one that my Client is very delighted with and to find a way to persistently deliver high quality work that guarantees satisfaction is actually a Great feeling and a reward all by itself.

The Singaporepools on-line sportsbook has a really sui generis built and an amazing cell sports online betting utility. Also, this sportsbook has a well designed cell version that has a keen resemblance with the online version and can be used to do whatever the net and cell app can do. The K9win on-line sportsbook was born in 2015, to meet the calls for of the online sports betting populace in the Asian online sports betting market. Maxim88 Casino is a widely known Asian online gaming web site that launched in 2006.

Designed a simple brand and additional parts the developer can use throughout the online app. We use cookie recordsdata to boost your consumer expertise and to improve our service. The registration course of takes about 5 minutes when doing the verification online. If you are coping with gambling problems in Singapore, there are a quantity of world firms and organizations that may provide support and assistance. For the prosperity of the playing industry in Singapore, the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) is working to introduce a brand new company that can consolidate all the present smaller bodies into one umbrella. The new regulation is anticipated to effectively address evolving playing merchandise and enterprise fashions in Singapore.

Once you've read and understood the section, you will understand the wagering requirements, how the bonus can be used to win and withdraw, or the required minimum deposit to get a bonus. The best bonuses in Singapore are supplied by bookmakers, as a reward for signing up or being loyal to them. Since bookies are sometimes targeting new players, you can make use of the bookmakers’ free bets to make large wins. The free quantity of credit given as a bonus is usually used solemnly for betting. Other than football, basketball, cricket, rugby, badminton, or volleyball, there are other sporting leagues in virtually every prime Singaporean betting website to wager on. You can choose baseball or softball, hockey, swimming, squash, golf, and biking.

Sports betting is a very popular type of facet revenue that many lively higher and gamblers take pleasure in. However, if you're new to sportsbook betting Singapore, likelihood is that you’d be confused about what to do and what to not. It is a very common response; however, this is where you want to observe along with the tips that we have lined up for you on this article. Despite that, there are very strict playing legal guidelines enforced inside the country. Although there are a quantity of choose ways to bet in the UAE via loopholes, on the entire the country operates with strict anti-gambling legislation.

If you're new to sports betting and don’t have plenty of data about the same, we hope this article offers you all the insights that you need. Keep in thoughts that sports betting is a mixture of good selections and luck. So, if you aren’t making knowledgeable decisions, they'll ultimately catch up to you if you put in huge money. The Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act (PASPA) was overturned in 2018 and since then, a number of states have taken benefit of this and legalized sports betting. The HKJC holds a government-granted monopoly on horse racing wagers, lotteries, and football betting, while its unique standing actually makes them the biggest taxpayer to the federal government.

After you've decided on a preferred bookmaker in Singapore, you must create an account. Singapore is known for land-based playing and follows the same rule for on-line playing. However, before joining an online betting web site in Singapore, you need to understand the pre-requisite for opening an account which incorporates the minimum age, resident tackle, and local quantity amongst others.

[566-hope-street]

A job interview that wasn’t

I was at Toshiko’s that day having a haircut. My hairdresser, who was a very nice Japanese woman, had a good hand for cutting hair. I don’t know about other people’s hair, but mine doesn’t react the same to every hairdresser. I before had a hairdresser whose touch had a terrible effect on my hair, leaving it coarse and dry until my next haircut. But Toshiko’s hands did wonders for it without the aid of products. She cut it in a 1920s bob style like Louise Brooks’, which suited me well. The hairstyle had made a comeback in the 80s. Sitting next to me was an attractive young man also having a haircut. He kept looking and smiling at me in the mirror, which was flattering but made me a bit uncomfortable. I thought we both looked ridiculous with hair sectioning clips, but it didn’t stop him from flirting. He left shortly before I did and waited outside the hair salon to invite me for lunch. He had the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. They were the color of a tropical sea, more green than blue.

We had a light lunch at the National Theater’s historic coffee shop. His name was Michiel, and he was Dutch but spoke good English. He was very pleasant and humorous. As that day was his last in Costa Rica, he asked if we could spend a little more time together after lunch, maybe go to a museum or a park, but I had to be somewhere that afternoon. I had called about a job ad the day before and had an appointment for an interview. So, Michiel and I made a date for dinner.

I arrived for the job interview at half past two. The building was newly built and looked like a glass box from the outside. I walked through the main door into a lobby that was empty except for a telephone on the floor. The man I had spoken with said that his office was on the third floor, which was the top floor, and that I had to use the stairs because the elevator wasn’t working yet. On my way there, I didn’t see any occupied offices. All the offices had glass fronts along the passageways and were empty.

His office had a reception area with a desk and a few chairs, but there was no one there, and the door was locked. I called out for someone to come and open, and a forty-something bearded man came out of a door at the other end of the reception room and let me in. “You must be the girl for the interview,” he said. “You’re right on time.” 

He closed and locked the front door behind us and took me to the room at the back, which was his workspace, closing the other door, too, but without locking it. Once inside, he offered me a chair and sat at his desk across from me. The space was small and windowless, almost claustrophobic, but well lit and nicely furnished. 

We started talking as he went over my resumé. I noticed he had an accent. “I’m from Chile,” he said without raising his eyes. I also asked him about the nature of his business. “I’m into real estate investing,” he said. "I own several properties, including this building." 

When he finished reading my resumé and looked for the first time into my eyes, an unsettling feeling came over me. He had the eyes of a madman.

“I see you’re not married,” he said, leaning forward from his chair, “but do you have a boyfriend?”

“No, why?” I said. “I’m not planning to marry and have children soon, if that’s what you’re concerned about?” I tensed up, suddenly realizing that I was in danger.

Then he said, “Have you had sex or are you a virgin?”

“What?! That’s none of your business!!!” I said. "I think this interview is over!"

As I was standing up to leave, he leaped up from his chair and ran and locked the door, and then he stood in front of the door like a goalkeeper with his arms outstretched to the sides. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were wilder than before. “I know a desperate woman when I see one,” he said, “and I’m going to give you exactly what you so badly want!” He took his belt off and unzipped his pants.

He started chasing me around the desk, whipping my back with his belt. He was laughing frantically. “Don’t play hard to get!” he said.

We ran in a circle for what felt like an eternity until he leaped across his desk to intercept me. So, I turned and ran the other way, which was when I saw a small bronze bust of Simon Bolivar on a shelf. I grabbed it right as he was putting his hands on me, and I hit him with it on the head as hard as I could, making him fall unconscious to the floor. But as I was nervously taking the bundle of keys out of his pants’ pockets, he began to regain consciousness. I hit him with the bronze bust on the head two more times, and he remained lying there. I didn’t stop to check if he was alive or dead.

I took my resumé from his desk and began trying the keys. I was shaking with panic. After finally opening the door, I locked it behind me and opened the other door. Then I threw the keys away, and despite having locked him inside, I ran down the stairs and out of that building like the Devil himself were chasing me.

That night, I stayed home and didn’t answer the phone. I felt bad for missing my dinner date with Michiel, but I was too shaken up to talk or see anyone.

I spent the following weeks in fear of hearing or reading in the news that the body of a man was found in a building, but nothing of the sort came up. Then almost a year later, I saw him inside a car in my college parking lot. At first I thought he was waiting for someone, but from the way he was moving his arm while looking at a group of college girls, it became clear that he was masturbating. I told a security guard and left unseen.

[espys-art-stuff]

It has occurred to me that I should probably... publish more of the random, insane things that go through my head rather than keep them locked up in my private digital notebooks forever. So with that said, please have this thing nobody asked for,

PREPARE

FOR MY GREAT EUROSLANDER POST

(disclaimer obvious satire piece is satire)

Directory of Europe (as written by an ignorant US tourist)

BRITISH ISLES, aka the only places we care about (wait they're islands?? I thou--)

England: Harry Potter Land and so London, very Posh, quite barmy out innit, god save the queen King, I want to hop into a queue and buy some fish and chips and good english tea, *waves the union jack aggressively*

(i feel so bri’ish!!1!11 did i do the accent right [is speaking cockney])

Ireland: EIRISH ((does several bad (scottish)ireland imitations)) and so beer and drienk, my grendfather was born ‘ere so I understind everythin’ aboot this playce

N. Ireland: I understand nothing about this place

Scotland: Aye Laddie, kilts and bagpipes and castles and ACCENTS (we're so scottish)

(wait you guys sound irish--)

Wales: tbh we didn't know you existed until we looked up the funny nonsense words

what do you mean there are native languages spoken in ENGland that aren’t english

THE SOUTH (Boonies)

Spain: Mexico 2.0

wtf do you mean it's more similar to california, california speaks Only English, a spanish-speaking country could never be as advanced

Italy: PIZZA (and old people) (and fascists), florida if floridians ate proper food

Greece: boring ruins and so poor, none of this was ever significant

Portugal: tbh we thought you were a territory of Brazil

Turkey: Earthquakes and Muslims (terrorists) (barbarians) (Iran begins here)

THE EAST (Mordor)

Hungary: We know nothing about it except that it's led by that one guy all our Conservatives really like for some reason, but hey he's White and European and Will Smith did a dance video in Budapest so they’re probably fine, also LOL they must be Hungry

Russia: Very Bad And Mean, We Boycott You For 1000 Years :( (but actually we still buy all your stuff and want your tourist traps and money)

Ukraine: *waves flags* (we did not care about you before but you're White and European and frankly Russia just isn't playing to our interests anymore, so we'll back your war while we look the other way on all the ones in those Non-White Countries)

Poland and like 70 other countries: Witcher 3 and commies

THE WEST (Civilised Countries)

Germany: yeah sorry like 85% of us still think you’re nazis, you're sort of just screwed on that front

France: PARIS and EIFFEL TOWER and ROMANCE (and also rude people)

Belgium+Luxembourg+Switzerland: Alps and croissants and swiss cheese and yodelling (and also rude people)

The Netherlands: 67,342 people skipped over this country because "the netherlands" sounds like the sticks

(we later figured out you were the dutch and we apologized that you have to live out in the sticks)

Austria: The Sound of Music

THE NORDICS (Socialist Paradise/Hell, speaks Weird Shit)

Denmark: we thought it was in America (the Actual America, not the rest of it) like all other good companies are tbh, but LEGOS

(you mean nothing to us otherwise)

Sweden: The ones who will take us, but too liberal and socialist high taxes and immigrant for our tastes (ALL (nonwhite) immigrants are illegal) (enlightened Conservatives STAY OUT)

Finland: The forgotten edge of the world, everyone here lives with eskimos and polar bears

Iceland: Hawaii vacation but Cold and Exotic

Norway: So rich and socialist, but they're White and European and sell oil so we can't knock it tbh

Greenland: the USA definitely claims this. we just haven't taken it back yet because there are absolutely no colonies living on this useless rock

(however once we begin shipping all the illegal immigrants out like how our lord and saviour Ron Desanctimonious has shown us, we will require it once again)

tune in next time for my post where I do all 50 states of the USA and destroy half the world as a result

[victimhood]

On Nicolò di Genova within the TOG FC universe:

Because I’ve received a few questions on Nichi within The Beautiful Game universe and typed up replies I’m going to put them here for my own reference! 

TL;DR is that I’m not sure most of my readers realize how important Nichi is as a player unless you know about Italian football, but if you know Italian football, I think you would have instantly clocked that Nicky = center back = defender = catenaccio master = 100% Italian darling  = he is everyone’s son in Italy

I think I might have told several readers I had a chapter lined up for the Joe/Nicky backstory, but on second thought I have too much content to compress it into 1 chapter, so I’m going to queue it as a related work after I finish the main fic.

Nicky I would say is a Jordan Henderson type of captain--his main strength is consistency and dependability, working to clean up messes in the background, and consistency goes a very long way in a playing career. The fact that he's national team captain and club captain also speaks to the regard that other players and his managers have for him--he's basically the "heart" of a team and he has that ability to inspire/drive his teammates to do better. He is extremely loved by his country and fans of his club as well. Consistency, dependability, heart--I think these are some of the most wonderful attributes for a football player.

I reflected on my fic and realized I make a lot of broad assumptions that my readers can fill in the gaps which is only possible if you've been steeped in football culture your whole life. The way football works, there are certain types of players get more "glory" than others. The ones who score goals get the most hype. Most often, these are the forwards, wingers. Attacking midfielders get more attention than defensive midfielders. Full backs get more attention than center backs. Nicky is a center back. Some of my personal favorite players are defensive midfielders and while they don't have the kind of insane popularity, the fans who love them truly LOVE them in a terrifyingly undying manner. What is important to note is that Italian football is special because they've always been proud of their defensive play, and they treasure good defenders in particular, more than the rest of the world. As such, Nicky being Italian and a defender (center back) makes him a huge player in Italy. For Nicky to do Italy proud, in the most classically Italian manner, he couldn't have been in any other role than in defense.

In this story, Nicky's just one of those low key players--but he also actively chooses to opt out of the social media circus, which makes his online footprint even smaller. He doesn't have insta, twitter etc, so he doesn't have Booker/Lykon/Yusuf's level of fan engagement. Fan engagement is a huge thing in profit-driven football, since it sells merchandise. However, amongst journalists, managers, players, people who know their stuff--everyone respects Nicky for the traits he embodies.

+ here’s a bonus section on the Joe/Nicky backstory + how Cesare (Nichi’s dog, a rottweiler) came into their lives

Because I love dogs I have thought about how Cesare comes into their lives in this fic. In fact, it was originally supposed to be part of a single chapter on Nichi and Yusuf's backstory, but based on my fic planning, I might turn that backstory into a whole separate work because it's gonna take more words than a single chapter can accommodate. 

The summary of Yusuf and Nichi's backstory is that Joe was transferred to Inter Milan in Jan 2020, and Nichi reaches out to him to make peace (bc they fought in the player's tunnel a year before--enough to earn them both match bans). Because they're both young players they're not that well-off yet, and Nichi invites Joe to crash at his apartment while looking for his own place to save on hotel money. Unfortunately...this is Jan 2020 yeah? Joe, a young, immature footballer, doesn't put that much effort in finding his own place thinking he can take all the time in the world...and then the corona crisis happens. WHOOPS now he is stuck with Nichi 24/7 in a full lockdown--they can't even go out of the house except for essentials. (This is where Nichi starts joking about getting a dog so they have an excuse to go outside for a walk). 

One thing leads to another and...Joe and Nichi start sleeping together....but when lockdown restrictions are lifted, Joe moves out to cope with his complicated feelings and Nichi pretty much gets a dog to cope with his sadness of Joe moving out. Turns out these doofuses still love each other and like...yeah the separate house thing is just for show, for the parents, to pretend they are functioning adult individuals who are NOT very gay for each other oh no no no they're just friends...just bros...chilling 6 feet apart bc corona (and no homo). 

So the other thing about Cesare is that...Nichi got him as a puppy, and due to on/off corona restrictions Cesare just...wasn't very well socialized as a puppy--his main interactions are with Nichi and Yusuf, and puppy!Cesare has seen how happy Nichi gets when Yusuf comes over and catches on very well that Yusuf is Special to his Owner and becomes very very very very very protective of Yusuf as a result. Cesare has been kicked out of various puppy schools bc he is a v misunderstood dog unfortunately.