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#im more proud of this than my degrees
poisonmeparty · 6 months
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✨i have something say! ✨
i have my own new fancast for remus lupin for the jury to consider... BEHOLD
SWANN ARLAUD
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you're like super welcome
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orcelito · 7 months
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I've always known that my dad loved us, but nothing's driven that home as much as everything we've found in the After.
Our prominence in his home (pictures, father's day cards, gifts on display, the letter), the way he prioritized us... and a damned good life insurance policy, set up specifically so that if he died early (always a possibility, since driving jobs are more dangerous than many) then we would have enough to get ourselves Set.
He raised us to become as independent as possible as soon as possible. Made sure we knew how to cook, clean, handle our finances (though he was hilariously kind of bad at that, himself), and much more. I've been doing my own laundry since I was about 10 years old, so it's a surprise when I hear about people going off to college still not knowing. Utterly unimaginable to me.
He wanted us to finish college so we could live more comfortable lives than he did. My sister accomplished this in good time. I have not. But with his final gift to us, this life insurance money, it's a very real thing I could do. I could Realistically pay for the rest of my schooling and not even have to work through it. And in not having to work as I take classes, I can dedicate myself to them more thoroughly than ever before, and hopefully Finally finish my degree.
Just as he wanted for me.
I'll always miss him, since having him in my life was worth more than any amount of money I could have. But I'll always be grateful to him for everything he gave to me.
I dont need a mother, however much mine is trying to scrabble for us right now. I haven't had a true mother in a long time (or maybe Ever).
Instead, I had the best father I could've ever asked for. He was the only parent I needed.
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elftwink · 1 year
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I graduated again but I came home and took a nap immediately so you're only hearing about it today but I still wanted to brag about it. so now I have two bachelor of art degrees and most importantly the fucking summer off. God bless
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bbael · 4 months
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Oh I just remembered that very early during the pandemic or a little before idk I had a dream on which I was living on a beach town and working as a teacher and I looked very different (long dark hair, prettier, just more mature, normie & put together in general ?) and when I woke up was like haha that's never going to happen, I could never work at a school or get out of the gastronomic system, I'm doing this for life + moving out is impossible anyway with my salary. And now... 5 years later (that felt like much less??) I'm doing (nearly) all that :|
#i remember the feeling of knowing i didnt have time or resources to go into practice and i didnt want to either. i had had a crisis idk#2 years earlier about all that and bareky finished my lit degree#at the time#i was also working 12 hs shifts for less than minimum wage#ik 5 years seem like a lot but i also am not sure how i went slowly building up to where i am currently ;_#there had to be a gradual progress but i just think things were happening very suddenly and i was pushed into situations very thoughtlessly#when i didnt even want to be in them. and i just went with the flow only to not remain stagnant#like i quit bakeries and moved to other bakeries until i hit my archival job that gave me the push to both get serious about my#second degree and also being surrounded by so many ppl in professional fields and researchers made me feel bad abt myself so much that i#started doing better lmaoo#finally getting insurance after so long being in gastronomics (hell) was so good to me too....#getting treatment for my mental health took me out of the gutter too omg. thats more recent development but if i hadnt done that i feel lik#i would be rotting...#but yeah i was pretty hopeless and with no money. lived very poorly and rly without prospect even after getting my degree anddd yeah...#what im doing now seemed like the kind of things that a much more successful people would be doing. i felt much like a kid working dead end#jobs so i didnt have to move back with my parents#not like an adult at all#anywho i should write this on my journal. im proud of myself still :'3
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robertsbarbie · 4 months
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pity party for like five seconds
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Guess who applied for college??
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seraphim-soulmate · 2 years
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soulemissary · 2 years
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also like my trip back to visit family sucked more or less but on the bright side my dad was. really nice for the whole thing. and while he we have a complicated relationship it made me really happy that he was so nice and supportive bc i was worried abt having to deal with him
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daddy-socrates · 4 months
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snapchat seems to indicate that i graduated college five years ago today! which makes sense, bc im starting to see a lot of people from the year ahead of me and even from my year start to get their silly little doctoral berets this week.
i want one....... 🥺
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thedevotionaltour · 8 months
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anyone else ever remember how they are gonna end up in some dead end soul sucking job instead of the actual career they wanna pursue because they are far too unskilled for it. just me. awesome.
#sometimes i get a twinge of hope bc my classmates will say nice things and then i remember the reality that exists and is real.#where i just suck. i lack so much technical skill. i feel like i have to reteach myself how to draw constantly. my style is not distinct.#it looks like the quality of a middle schooler's sketchbook where it's a drawing they're proud of but in comparison to anything else#it is just garbage. utter garbage.#i have been in such a horrific slump of feeling about what i make. and i tell my therapist about it. and he never ever actually reassures m#doesnt tell me to maybe ask if im being unfair in my standards. or says i should have some more compassion towards myself.#or finds it an issue in regards to my generally low self esteem. im so fucking tired of being told well. you can always go back to school#to pursue something else after wasting all your fucking time on this stupid fucking degree that will get you nowhere!#i feel hopeless! so utterly fucking hopeless! it doesnt matter when my peers with more skill than me say they like my work bc im positive#they are just being nice. i cant imagine you look at your work and then mine and still find it good and having worth. i cant.#i cant make anything good. im so tired of not being able to make anything good. im tired of not being able to have the motivation to do wor#in my own time to help improve my work because im too fucking tired because im too fucking depressed to do anything. im a failure.#im literally watching myself become a failure in real time and i cant stand it some days. genuinely what a waste.#i dont know what gave me the right to think i could possibly succeed at this. i feel like an idiot for wasting so much time and money.#im not saying this to seek pity or comfort either. im just talking about how i feel. because it just sucks. it just sucks#it sucks to know you will never make it. because even on the days you think maybe you can. it just comes crashing down again to remembering#oh. i wont. because i have none of what it takes for it at all.#man. what even ever at this point. who cares. i'll get over it. it just sucks.#vent.txt
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beepathan · 10 months
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IM SO FUCKIN CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH SCHOOL FOREVERRE
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mercurycft · 6 months
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𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐋𝐖 | ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄
## socials | leah williamson/awfc x reader!!
may 11th 2023 — 📸
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yourusername : 💤 uni, football & doggy cuddles
posted 8 hours ago.
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bethmead_: ❤️🐾
awfcfan.6: OMG LEAH ASLEEP W THE DOG HELP
jbeattie91: is leah ever at her own house?? 😂
^ yourusername: no.
^ leahwilliamsonn: yes.
arsenalwfc: putting in the work💪🏼
^ yourusername: degree pending.. 🤍
leahwilliamson: this doesn’t look like studying 🤔
^ yourusername: i wrote 6 words and got bored :)
yourfriend: ARE THOSE MY AIRPODS???!!!
^ yourusername: no.. 🫣
aw0fc: omg i love their friendship sm
^ leah6will0n: …. 👩🏼‍🦯 maybe more than friends ;)
may 22nd 2023 — 📸
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yourusername : we made it 🎓📚🤍✨
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yourfriend: so proud of us!! ❤️🎓
^ yourusername: look at us with degrees 🥹
arsenalwfc: what an achievement! congratulations!
^ awfcfan2: SHES ONE OF OUR OWNNNN ❤️🤍
^ awfcfan2: OMG LEAHS STORY IM SOBBING
leahwilliamsonn: proud. congratulations 🌟
^ yourusername: no more forcing me to work 😁
bethmead_: wow, you little brainbox 🎓🎉
^ yourusername: thanks beffy 😚
🔔 leahwilliamsonn posted to their story.
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yourusername : cheers to the last 3 years 🎓❤️🍾
posted 11 hours ago.
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leahwilliamson: my star girl🌟
^ yourusername: oh stop it <3
^ awfcfan2: SORRY??????
^ km11.6: WHATTTTTTTT WE HAVE CONTACT
arsenalwfc: we’re so proud of you ❤️🤍
^ yourusername: surrounded by the best!
yourfriend: can’t believe im losing you to football 💔
^ yourusername: you live downstairs 🤨
viviannemiedema: 🎓
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leahwilliamsonn : my graduate 👩🏼‍🎓❤️ so proud of you for everything you accomplished over the last 3 years.. i love you ❤️x
posted 6 hours ago
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———————
hi pookies!! i hope you all had a lovely long weekend (to my british friends) and a lovely easter if you celebrate! 💐more leah fics coming over the next few weeks! i LOVE making these social media fics. let me know if there’s any players you want to see! love always - RGx
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oh-no-its-bird · 22 days
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Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.
But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.
When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi
But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.
Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.
While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons
Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (。﹏。")
Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)
Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.
Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass
Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)
Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)
Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.
Kk: lol
Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧
And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.
I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!
That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.
Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.
So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.
But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???
Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.
And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"
But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.
Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.
The end yay happy ending
There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."
"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"
"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"
"OH YEAH????"
"YEAH!!!"
"PROVE IT!"
And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.
And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.
And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.
There was a lot of cake.
Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting
The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)
The end yay happy ending x2
If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent
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formulamar · 1 month
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she’s a ferrari - part 3
charles leclerc x yn!ferrari
fc: addison rae
summary: as a child, the great-grand daughter of Enzo Ferrari used to spend her weekends hanging around the paddock. but once she went off to university her appearances became rare. what happens when she starts working for Ferrari? and... one of the drivers steals her heart.
READ PART TWO HERE
NOVEMBER 2023
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ynferrari's story
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charles_leclerc
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liked by joris__trouche and 905,679 others
charles_leclerc: I gave absolutely everything today. Thank you so much for everything. Thank you for the support throughout the whole season. It's been a tough one and I already can't wait to be in 2024 to be hopefully fighting for wins again ❤️
5,382 comments
ynferrari: you make us proud everyday ❤️
liked by charles_leclerc
DECEMBER 2023
ynferrari
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 109,354 others
ynferrari: finally gradu-ATE-ed!!!!! big thank you to my family, my friends and to beautiful London!!! you've treated me so well. can't wait for this next chapter, but its painfully bittersweet to close out this one. 🎓💐🤍
6,039 comments
carmenmmundt: intelligent AND gorgeous 🥰
-> ynferrari: you're my inspiration 🥲
fernandoalonso: Lo hiciste!! (you did it)
liked by ynferrari
carlossainz55: 👏👏👏
ynscousin: CONGRATULAZIONI YN 🍾 also how did you get rid of your jet lag so fast?
-> ynferrari: trust it was a pain 😭
ynbff: WE DID IT BABES!!!! ILY
landonorris: are you sure they didn't hand you someone else's diploma on accident?
-> ynferrari: just shut up and come to the party 🙄
user: who bought you that degree?
tifosi2019: from one grad to another congratulations yn!
-> ynferrari: congratulations to you as well!
charles_leclerc: Smartest person I know ❤️ Congratulations
-> ynferrari: grazie bello :))
-> lordcharles: EVERYONE SEEING THIS INTERACTION
ferrarifan03: CONGRATS YN!!!!
ynfan53: CONGRADULATIONS PRETTY GIRL
tifosi75: yn...is it possible this next chapter involves you being in the paddock more often??
-> ynferrari: 😉😉
user: spoiled brat
-> ynferrari: not too shabby yourself xx
-> ferrarifan03: HELPPPPP
rumorhasitf1
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liked by f1fan, ynbff and 4,673 others
rumorhasitf1: RUMOR HAS IT
Rumor has it that various f1 drivers attended YN Ferrari's graduation party in London on December 9th. Guests included Fernando Alonso, Carlos Sainz, Mick Schummacher, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Lance Stroll, George Russel and YN's rumored boyfriend Charles Leclerc. Susi and Toto Wolff were also in attendance. Witnesses state that YN and Charles held hands, danced and conversed throughout the whole evening.
753 comments
norrisluv: now the important question is what did he gift her...
-> lechairs: EXACTLYYYYY IM SO CURIOUS
lec4: getting emotional just imagining this...cutest couple to ever couple
charlnor: susi and toto being there is a little random to me not gonna lie...
-> scunteriafer: i'm hoping it's just cause they've known yn since she was little and they have a close bond and not because of anything else
cl16fan: Charles and Yn dancing together... i'm actually dying
lonso14: imagine nando just glaring at charles the whole night FHSKAJFLD
f1fan05: WAS FRED THERE @/rumorhasitf1
-> rumorhasitf1: Our source says yes!
ferrarienthusiast38: YN'S BESTIE IN THE LIKES HELLOFDJKSLJ
ln4s: it's got to be true then omgggg
lordpercevalfan: can we talk about this pic holy hell Charles how'd you bag that
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PADDOCK GOSSIP
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⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩ ⋆。°✩
formulaamar 🎬: i wanted to get this out way earlier than i was able to but i couldn’t because school started again for me 🙄 and ive been busy with that but here’s part 3!!! this was supposed to be the last part but i decided why not add a little more hehe 😇 remember to comment if you wanna be on the taglist!!! ALSO ITS FINALLY RACE WEEK AGAIN LETS GO LETS HOPE FOR FERRARI FIXED THEIR FREAKING CAR 🥰
taglist 🌷🏷️: @agmoon03 @sarx164 @janeh22 @kindestofkings @ttokkisbee @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @lottalove4evelyn @1800-love-me @forza-charles @blushmimi @emryb @heavy-vettel @tvdtw4ever @harrysdimples05 @chelle1306 @majasophieanna
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loveindefinitely · 9 months
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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader
03 — MY COMPASS, MY TRANSPORT
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
<- previous part | next part ->
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“I have nothing else to live for.”
It’s a truth. A deep, earnest one – and it’s the only option you have.
Without Graves, without your Shadows, you have nothing. No income, no family, no support. You're left with the clothes on your body and the shoes in which you stand, with no hope of finding your footing.
In the darkness, the only light shines from the headlights of the truck, and the red of the radio. It’s silenced, of course, but it serves as a beacon of something between you all.
“I don’t – I have no other choice,” you say, voice trembling. You would not break in front of them, but you could feel yourself cracking; porcelain underneath a harsh grip. Turning yourself so you’re completely facing the two, your expression turns desperate. “I want to help you both, and I want to save Phi– Graves.”
You correct yourself at the final moment, wary of your slip up.
“Save ‘im? From what? Feckin’ charges for war crimes? Getting his ass handed to ‘im?” Soap chokes out, incredulous, eyes wide where they meet yours. He winces when he moves forward too quick, straining his arm.
“He’s…” You look down at your hands, merely watching for a moment as they close into a fist and open again. Blood crusts underneath your fingernails. “He’s all I have. I’m sure he just needs a wake up call, someone to snap him out of it.”
“He tried to kill us,” Ghost speaks up, matter-of-fact, but quiet. As if at any moment, his words will wake up the entire city. If there were any civilians left in it, you supposed. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.
“...And I had to kill some of my men.”
It’s a confession of sin. Like poison on your tongue, yet at the same time, an anecdote to an evil in your veins. You’d killed your men. You’d… done that.
You still haven’t quite allowed yourself to realise it, not yet.
But if it’s enough to keep you alive right now, so be it. You hadn’t gotten this far just to give up over something as inconsequential as pride.
“Ye will tell us everything you know about ‘im. And’ll help us until we figure out what to do. We’re our own bosses now, Sweetheart,” Soap commands, that fucking nickname of his seeming to stick. You don’t dispute it – not right now, not when this is quite literally life or death.
“I promise,” you say, resolute and stern. There was no time for self-pity or wallowing, only time for action and conviction – something you had in spades. “I’m yours for as long as you need me.”
You hadn’t known how true those words would be – not then, and not for a good while. But they were a prophecy, if such a thing could at all be possible for a woman like you.
Soap and Ghost share a look; a brief, yet important one, before Ghost gives the Scot a short nod. Soap turns once more to you, his face betraying the answer of their silent agreement.
“...So?” You suggest, impatient considering the consequences of the next few moments. 
Bringing a hand up to stroke at his stubbled chin, Soap makes an act of pretending to ponder – and it succeeds in stoking the flames at your core, fury burning through you like a liquor-soaked rope.
“I dunno, lass,” he says on a sigh, his ocean eyes betraying a mischief in their depths. “Yer kinda mean to me.”
You might choke him.
Actually, check that, you will choke him. He’s impossible – an arsehole to the nth degree – somehow worse than Ghost in his… foolishness? Was that the right word? Or just straight frustrating-ness?
Seeming to sense your thinning patience, Soap’s hand falls from his jaw with a mirthful smirk, proud of himself. 
“If ye say pretty please, ye can join our lil’ duo.” He finishes the statement off with a wink, and you don’t realise that your hands have curled into fists until the sharp pain of nails digging into your palms force you to resort back to your senses.
You let out a slow, loud breath. 
Neither of them move a muscle, except for the twitch of Soap’s dimple. You hate that you recognise such a small movement, but you easily blame it on the fact that it’s a drilled-in mentality.
“...Please,” you acquiesce, however quiet. 
Ghost’s eyebrow raises. How you’re aware of that, considering his mask, is a props to him. 
“That’s not what he asked for.” His voice is a low, husky thing, and the title of guard dog suddenly doesn’t sound so incorrect.
With your teeth gritted and cheeks straining, you mutter out, “Pretty please.”
Soap’s responding smile is nothing short of beaming, and you almost immediately wish that you could take those words back. Was death really so bad? Would it even be a mercy, compared to deciding to share a threadbare camaraderie with these weirdos?
Too bad time control isn’t exactly a well-researched military weapon.
“Let’s go then,” Ghost slaps his gloved hand against the steering wheel, before looking one last time towards you with purpose, “Sweetheart.”
Soap laughs.
You get out and slam the door in his face.
“Och! You feckin’ bastard, lass,” you hear him screech, before the door opens once more and Soap hops out, fuming.
Turning away, you fall behind Ghost, and quickly take a look around at the vast, empty area that is barren suburbia. Not before responding, however.
“Next time you get shot, I’m not taking care of your ass,” you threaten. “And I’m giving the rest of my sweets to Mr. Melodramatic.”
Soap’s returning mock gasp is, in all fairness, pretty comedic. “You have more sweets? Gimme those and ye lovely bedside manners ‘nd I’ll get a cavity!”
Your returning glare could cut steel. “Keep that up, and you’ll end up with bigger issues than a cavity.”
“I think ye are already the bigger issue,” Soap snaps back, but it’s not inherently malicious. It’s… borderline playful, and that sudden thought has you internally slapping yourself.
“Both of ya – quiet,” Ghost warns.
You both shut up immediately.
With wary steps, the three of you go to step up towards the front door, when Ghost swings out a hand, stopping the lot of you in your tracks. The night doesn’t allow for any of you to see well, but he must’ve picked up something that you hadn’t.
The thought is an immediately terrifying one.
“Pressure plates,” Soap murmurs under his breath, eyeing the square linoleum tile. “Nice catch, Lt.”
Ghost doesn’t respond, instead motioning for you to follow him towards a glassless window. Gravel crunches underneath your light footfalls, easily heard in the deathly quiet, as you move to swing your leg over the access point and drop to the floor inside.
Landing with a soft thud, you go to unfurl from your crouching position, before a loud warning shout from Ghost has you freezing.
Flinching where you stand, your eyes dart to where Ghost has flung one of his daggers, the sharp metal splintering a wooden beam further into the dark room. Realising that Soap sits at your flank, you shift your gaze to spot a red light focused in on his forehead – between his eyes.
“¿Quien esta ahi?” An unfamiliar, accented voice calls out from behind the beam. You could slap yourself for being so careless, in not realising that someone else was in here before Ghost had saved your arses. 
“Rodolfo!” Soap calls out, relief flooding his tone as he rights his position, shoulders back.
A man peeks out from behind the wood, eyes wide and slightly panicked, before they soften at the sight of the two men behind you. “Soap! Ghost! You’re alive!”
Stepping out from around the beam, he reaches for Ghost’s dagger, pulling it away from where it had dug into the oak with undeniable ease. His appearance is striking, with a set jaw and gentle features – he’s quite pretty, but not at all in a way that you find yourself attracted to the man.
“Affirmative,” Ghost responds, accepting the knife back when the man – Rodolfo – hands it to him hilt-first.
“Good to see you, amigos,” Rodolfo smiles, before his appraisal sets on you, confusion sparking in his deep brown eyes. He looks to the two men at your side for an explanation, hesitant in the way he does so.
“This is…” Soap trails off, before coming to a realisation. “Feckin’ hell. I never even asked for yer name, Sweetheart.”
Rodolfo blinks. Once, twice, before his eyebrows furrow and his mouth settles into an uncomfortable grimace.
You shoot a glare Soap’s way, before gifting Rodolfo a polite, yet stilted, smile. Extending your hand, you give him your name, and then your official title.
“Colonel? Graves’ colonel?” Rodolfo repeats back, utterly taken aback by such an introduction. He doesn’t seem to know what to do, quickly hissing to Soap in unamused Spanish, “¿Has perdido la cabeza?”
“I saved his life,” you interrupt, before any verbal sparring begins. “And I’m on your team. I don’t agree with what Graves is doing – and I’m sorry for what he’s already done. But I want to help you. I swear.”
Rodolfo regards you for a moment, his internal walls still heavily locked in place. But he seems… softer, now, in a way. More understanding, maybe, less hesitant as he slowly appraises you, inspecting you under his critical analysis.
The silence stretches, before the soldier raises his hands placatingly, the left side of his mouth twitching into a smooth smirk. “No accusations from me, Corazón,” he reassures, the pet name sliding from his full lips like butter over warm toast.
“Aye, none of tha’,” Soap warns, and Rodolfo’s amusement deepens. Whatever the Scot is about to say next is abruptly stopped by Ghost’s booming demand from behind you both.
“Anyone outside of these walls is now considered a hostile – we’re a team now. This happened under my watch, and I’d bloody well do good to fix it.” His posture is stiff, hand unconsciously flexing around the blade strapped to his belt as he delivers the order. It’s the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one shot.
You figure he’s stopped speaking, when suddenly his heavy gaze is on you, any ounce of solidarity snuffed out like a match’s flame. “You fuck up once, Sweetheart, and I won’t hesitate when I shoot ya dead.”
It’s as good of a compromise as you’re going to get from the hulking Lieutenant, but you weren’t made Colonel for your talents in stepping down.
“You forget that I outrank you,” you challenge, chin raised and eyes flinty. “And that I saved your mutt.”
“We don’t have a feckin’ dog,” Soap starts, but when he sees the way Ghost side eyes him, and how you give him an unimpressed look, his jaw drops. “Ye bastard! Shoulda killed ya –”
Rodolfo’s hand wraps around Soap’s forearm, the grumbling man twisting in his hold, but not putting up anything close to a fight. “She’s just stirring you up, hermano,” Rodolfo placates, his large eyes meeting yours with a hint of respect in them. It has you straightening your spine, and your resolve.
“We sort this out as equals,” you state, folding your arms over your chest and bucking your hip. Ghost doesn’t, for a single second, shift your mutual eye contact. “And you will all tell me what the fuck’s going on – and what we’re doing.”
“Alejandro,” Ghost quips, sharp and to the point. Finally, you think, his near-black eyes drift to Rodolfo. “We need him back.”
“He’s the only other lad we can trust out there,” Soap adds, his pout easing slightly. Rodolfo finally drops his hand, clapping it hard against the petulant man’s shoulder with a firm nod.
“Already got a head start, hermanos,” he gestures for the three of you to follow him further into the room, before his calculating eyes glance back at you, “y hermana.”
It’s an unknown, entirely different feeling that erupts inside of your chest at the inclusion. Rodolfo was clearly the most soft spoken man of the three, but he had an intelligence to him that you couldn’t wait to unpack. And he trusted you. Or so you had gathered, anyway.
However.
First things first.
“...Where’s Alejandro? I thought he was Mexican Special Forces?” It was, admittedly, a unique kind of embarrassing – how out of the loop you felt, considering you were a colonel under Graves’ command. You’d heard the man’s name before, but it was usually just paired with barracks gossip and warnings to steer clear. Some joke about how the only one who could kill Alejandro, was the soldier himself.
Moving along with Rodolfo, you’re surprised when it’s Soap who supplies you the answer.
“Your fuckwit of a Commander’s got ‘im,” he curses, the words grating and harsh. Deserved, of course it was deserved, yet it was still odd hearing such disrespect for the man of whom you’d idolised for so long.
Of whom you’d given everything.
Switching a light on, Rodolfo stops in front of a large table, a map laid out across the top of it. Your eyes go wide at the intricacies – focusing as the man leans over and presses a finger towards a highlighted spot, watching the three of you where you stand on the other side. Dust floats near the source of the lamp, and the scent of grime hits you a moment later, a familiar thing.
“Graves is holding him here,” Rodolfo explains, his previously mischievous expression settling into a firm, military-grade frown.
“His own personal black site prison,” Soap scoffs, subconsciously flexing his fingers around the straps of his vest. His focus is utterly devoted to the map in front of him, but his anxiety shows itself through the tiniest of movements.
Rubbing his spare hand down his face, Rodolfo lets out a long, strewn-out sigh. “My men are locked in there, too.”
“Then let’s get them back,” you supply with a small shrug when all eyes shoot your direction.
“That’s obvious, lass,” Soap says, lacking any hint of his previous vitriol when he looks around the room. “How we get ‘em back is the question.”
“By breaking in,” Ghost answers, the retort as simple as breathing.
If you weren’t so receptive to body movements, to the smallest of expressions, you’d’ve missed it. Even then, you doubted that anyone could miss how Soap’s eyes soften when he looks to his Lieutenant, how his breath softly hitches in his throat.
You want to claw out your eyes with a rusty spoon.
By the look on Rodolfo’s face, he feels much the same – until he catches you staring, and then his face twists into something much more cryptic. Like a man trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces, being forced to jam spares into spots that just won’t fit.
“We need weapons,” you startle out, the words surprising even yourself. You don’t go back on them, don’t even think to. “If we want to stand a fighting chance – we need firepower.”
“Who said you’re with us?” Ghost questions snarkily, but when you go to reply, you find that Rodolfo’s moved to the corner of the room, switching on even more lights, displaying a wrought iron door.
Sliding it open, you feel like a kid on Christmas morning as you take note of the supplies within.
Rodolfo shrugs, but the small, smug grin on his face doesn’t dispel. “It’s well-stocked. This is Ale we’re talking about.”
The affectionate nickname is something you store away for later. ‘Well-stocked’ is certainly an understatement – guns of all types line the walls within the room, all types of bombs and grenades along with it.
“Alright,” Ghost huffs out, the closest to appreciative that a man like him can get.
Soap is much more upfront about his joy. “My man!” He laughs, his dimples etched into his features like the light spattering of freckles over his upper cheeks and nose bridge. “We’re gonna need new wheels. Preferably up-armoured.”
Digging into his pocket, Rodolfo pulls out a set of keys, tossing them over to Ghost with relaxed shoulders. Turning, shock must be evident on all of you, because Rodolfo lets out a low chuckle. “Your wish is my command, hermanos y hermana.”
To the far end of the room, within the adjoined stables, is a fully-armoured forward drive of some sort – sleek and black and fucking perfect.
“Alejandro thought of everything,” Ghost admires, and when you look to him, you swear that you can see a hint of hope shining in his darkened eyes. Your heart skips a beat on its own accord, and you’re absorbed by the all-consuming want to pull it out of your chest with your bare hands, just so it never does such a thing again.
“Yeah, he did,” Soap whistles, before turning back around to face your small band of misfits. With a determined grin, he says as if it’s an afterthought, “Let’s go get ‘im.”
With a stern resolve and an even sterner disposition, you walk alongside your newfound teammates, and get ready for the most difficult mission of your military career.
*
When you’d, stupidly, recklessly, decided to play good guy and helps out the 141 and Los Vaqueros, you hadn’t taken into account how you’d be at the bottom of the totem pole.
While the three men you were working alongside were all considerably close, you were an outsider. At that, an outsider who had, only a few hours ago, decided to swap sides from enemy to ally.
Being paired with Ghost is, arguably, the most gut-wrenching job in your life. By the time that Rodolfo finds Alejandro through the CCTV system, you’re nearly entirely covered in dried blood, and your head thumps with a headache.
Not a headache from war – a headache from the fucking twat with a shitty DIY job for a military get-up.
“You’re seriously the worst,” you grit out, wiping off a bit of Shadow blood that’s been sprayed on your cheek. “I seriously can’t fucking believe that any one of your mates can tolerate you.”
“Who needs ‘mates’ when I have my boys?” Ghost quips back, wiping off his bloody dagger onto his vest, before slotting it back into its rightful position on his belt. His ability to blend into the night, even with the prison lights on, is uncanny – the only tell the white of his stitched-in skull.
You mock a disgusted sound, sticking out your tongue. “You sound like a fuckboy.”
“A what?” And, although it sounds nothing like a choke, you’re sure that it’s an instinctual question.
The sound of a helicopter up ahead has the two of you pausing in your tracks, feud coming to a quick halt. Looking up, you struggle to see the vehicle in the black of night, but you manage to spot the slowly circling heli above the prison.
“Ghost, Sweetheart, what’s yer status?��� Soap’s voice trickles in through your comms. Ghost glances at you, before he answers on your behalf, ever the control-freak.
“Comin’ your way.”
Falling into step side-by-side, you focus on the wet gravel underneath your feet, avoiding making any communication with the man to your right.
“Copy. We’re on the move,” Soap replies, before Rodolfo cuts in.
“Heads up on the helo,” he warns. You find that you much prefer him over the other two – in fact, under any other circumstance, you could see the two of you becoming good friends. Maybe, if everything goes well, that could be a possibility – a positive in your world of negatives.
“Don’t think we’re in his line of sight,” you respond, double-checking your route and the helicopter's position in the sky. Rodolfo had warned you all, debriefing in the drive here, that helicopters would likely show up at some point.
Minutes pass, with small comms between the lot of you, when you finally spot the familiar figures belonging to the other half of your precarious team. 
Soap and Rodolfo stand at the entrance, before the two turn at the sound of your and Ghost’s footsteps. They both seem to visibly loosen their stiff shoulders, seeing you both uninjured – and if you do the same, you pray that no one notices.
“The door’s locked,” Soap informs you all, gesturing to the steel entrance5.
With a small hum, Rodolfo reaches for the pack on his vest. “We’ll need to breach it,” he explains, but before he can grab a charger, Ghost raises a hand to stop him.
“No, Rudy –” And that is a nickname that you’ll be using later, “Knock.”
Rodolfo seems apprehensive, but he agrees anyway, giving all three of you separate glances. “On me…”
All of you getting into readying positions, Rodolfo knocks on the door, the sound echoing loud enough to have your blood pounding in your ears.
A moment later, a Shadow – one you don’t recall having met – pushes open the door and moves to step outside. However, Rodolfo and Ghost are quick to neutralise him, softly dropping his body to the floor.
Pushing through the entrance, everyone except for you shoot a Shadow dead – clearing the room in less than twenty seconds. It’s impressive, how smoothly run the operation is, considering the lack of proper authority or guidance.
You’re the first to spot some more Shadows moving your way, down the stairs – calling it out. “More Shadows from the second floor – watch out!”
This time, you find yourself the cause of two men falling to the ground, blood pooling underneath their lifeless bodies. Your team doesn't give you time to second guess, to mourn, before they’re encouraging you to follow them up the stairs.
“Ale’s up here, let’s go!” Rodolfo urges, his voice bordering on a kind of desperation reminiscent of a boy enlisting for the first time.
Like expected, Alejandro’s cell is down the hall, sat to the far right. Two Shadows guard the steel door, but Soap and Rodolfo are quick to light them up, successfully clearing the entire two floors. You’re ashamed of how relieved you feel, being gifted the small mercies of not having to kill your previous subordinates, unless necessary.
You feel, more than see, Ghost’s heavy gaze on you. When you look back up from the gun in your hands, however, he’s turned completely away – and if you were a less accurate person, you’d have thought you were imagining things.
“There’s Alejandro’s cell.” Stopping at the steel door, Rodolfo adjusts his grip on the gun, before giving you an encouraging jerk of his head. “Open it up, me and Soap will cover you.”
Another small mercy, you think, as Ghost reaches into his backpack and pulls out a set of bolt cutters, regarding you stiffly. “When I pop this lock, you push in,” he directs you curtly, and you bite back a retort. You knew the process like the back of your hand – you had no need for an explanation.
The ‘especially from him’ goes unsaid.
With precise, practised movements, Ghost positions the bolt cutters, and pushes open the door.
As soon as you take one step into the cell, a large hand wraps around the back of your neck, slamming your face into the concrete wall, a blinding pain shooting through your retinas. Letting out a small yelp, your chest rattles as your hands wildly raise in an imitation of surrender.
“Alejandro! Let go of ‘er! It’s us!” Soap calls out, and you swallow unhealthy amounts of air. That hit had taken more out of you than you’d expected – and your harsh breaths were making that incredibly apparent.
The grip on the scruff of your neck slackens when Rodolfo shoots off in quickfire Spanish, “Coronel, relájate, cabron, somos nosotros.”
Your cheek aches and your head pounds as the hand removes itself entirely, allowing for you to take in lungfuls of oxygen.
“Soap, Ghost!” Alejandro bursts out, and as you rise to your feet unsteadily, you watch as he thumps both of them on the back of their shoulders, before turning to Rodolfo with an expression that could only be described as longing. “...Rudy.”
“Didn’t think we’d leave ya, did ye?” Soap chuckles, oblivious to the thread of tension between the two men. 
Whatever silent conversation had occured between the two enforcers is quickly cut as Alejandro accepts the shake of Soap’s hand, a feral grin wide on his features. “What took you so long, pendejos?”
“A traitor with an attitude is what,” Ghost inputs, and really, how much self control can a Lieutenant lack? Wiping at your cheek, you let your hand fall once more to your side as you meet Alejandro’s inquisitive gaze head-on.
“I’m Graves’ previous colonel,” you extend your hand, “And I’m your best bet at getting your base back.”
You expect suspicion, uproar, maybe – or at least questioning, similar to that of Rodolfo’s.
Instead, all you’re met with is Alejandro’s manic smile sharpening, and a slap on the back of your own. Ruffling your hair, he uses his free hand to accept the gun Rodolfo’s extending towards him, shooting you a knowing glance.
“Sounds good, hermana. Welcome to how real men fight.”
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nayomi247 · 6 months
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I cant believe like... no one in the fandom has done a post like this yet that I can find?? It seems like a staple, and Im sending it here cause your wonderful and need more requests mwuah (´ з `)
What do you think would be some of the Hazbin Crew's ideal s/o? Like, what would attract them/get their attention initially, what they would need in a longtime partner, that type of thing! I would LOVE if you did Lucifer, Alastor, and Vox (my BOYS *sobs*) but feel free to do anyone and everyone you want to!
Their Ideal S/O
A/N: Thank you for this lovely request mwah😙 Also I sprinkled in other hcs to that I thought of while writing this
Pairing: Lucifer/Reader, Alastor/Reader, & Vox/Reader
Work under the cut🤞🏻
I feel like this man would love a clingy lover. Please always hold his hand. Sit on his lap while he does his work. Cuddle him to sleep at night. He LOVES physical touch.
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Lucifer:
He'd also want a person he can spoil. He wants you to know he cares. He shows this by gift giving; (another one of his love languages) anything in his power is yours for the asking, you just name it!
As for looks, he wouldn't really care about those. He loves you for who you are.... THOUGH, if you were tall, he'd like to be topped by you. Or if you were short, he would tease you for that and act all proud bc he's taller than someone.
The thing that initially attracted him though was your smile. He always adored it. Just seeing you laugh and be happy always made his heart flutter.
He wants someone who can take care of him. He's a very needy man and is almost like a toddler to some degree. Of course he could do this stuff himself, but it makes him feel better knowing that you're willing to do it for him.
If you're gonna be with him, you have to be nice to Charlie. That's non negotiable. He doesn't want to put you in a spot where you feel like you have to parent her, of course not. All he wants is for his 2 favorite people to get along.
He needs someone who's willing to commit to the relationship as much as he is. He's still a bit hurt from Lilith, and he's trusting you to not break his heart like she did. He would be crushed.
Alastor:
He isn't one to like physical touch very much. Maybe a peck on the cheek here, holding hands a bit there, but other than that he doesn't want to be touched. Don't get me wrong, he loves you a lot! But he's not really the.. touchy type.
I see him more as lover that would like words of affirmation or quality time. Just your presence alone is enough for him. Though if he's with a clingy partner, he'll probably get them a plushy or something of the sort to hug and cuddle when he's in his 'no touch mood'.
He'd like if if you could cook. You could help him prepare jambalaya and other dishes his mom showed him to make. It'd be a great bonding experience.
Like Lucifer, he doesn't care much for looks. As long as you're willing to commit to him as he does for you, then it doesn't matter to him what you look like.
To be completely honest, he doesn't know exactly why he loves you or even fell for you in the first place. But he does, and did. Who is he to question that?
Vox:
This man is also a big physical touch lover. He always has his hand on your thigh, holding your hand, or just touching any place he can.
Please let him spoil you. You'd always have the latest phone and other tech like that. If you want something, he'd be glad to give it to you.
He wants someone that's loyal to him and only him. If he sees anyone else trying to flirt with you (*cough cough* val) he'd go absolutely insane. You are his.
If you could cook, he'd always love to eat your meals, breakfast lunch and dinner. Would 100% brag to the other Vees when he has lunch.
He'd prefer it if you're good with tech. He wants to be able to brainstorm ideas with you and show off his latest inventions. Also it would make it 10x easier to clean his system if you were the one to do it.
He cares more about looks than the other 2, but it's not a deal breaker for him. He'd like it if you were good looking (You're beautiful no matter what though ofc) but it's not a need. Regardless, he'd still call you beautiful and his pretty thing
He fell for you because of your of your personality. The way you walk about and present yourself. You take bullshit from anyone, you know your worth. Much as he does. You're like him, you both understand each other. That's why he sought out your love.
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I'm sorry if this exactly what you hoped it would be, I know I added a few random things but I hope you like it regardless :]
Once again thank you for the ask<3
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