#swoope va

[sillygreenrat]

when i tell you my response to the news was immediate......

whenever these puppies gettin shipped out it's all over

[the-travelling-witch]

moze’s va stepped back, don’t the vas who lost roles over supporting him look stupid now

[sureallavnder]

stupid parties - Theodore Nott

p : gentle!theodore nott x anxious!fem!reader

s : slytherin always throw the noisiest, stupidest parties and even though you were sorted into said house you cant normally handle them as things get intense

w : fluff, shaking, google translated italian, theo being a softie, not proofread

a/n : just a softie theo moment don’t ask me how i got this out but not my 200 follower fic

prompt : person b holding person a’s hand while shaking

You were dreading tonight.

As per usual for the slytherin quidditch team they decided to throw a massive party to celebrate their 5th win of the season.

Something you always struggled with was crowds and noise and lucky for you, you got sorted into the house who throws the loudest, craziest, most unhelpful (in your words) parties.

Theo knew this and always made sure to keep you calm and safe even when he sometimes wished he was partying as it was one of his favourite hobbies.

You and Theo had been dating since he asked you to the Yule Ball in 4th year. But as most, you had crushes on each other since 3rd, and maybe just maybe there was some kind of connection from when you first met. Although you didn’t get close until Christmas break of your 2nd year when you both stayed behind at Hogwarts.

Your family had decided it was best for you to stay in school and focus on furthering your education a little bit, but you always wondered if it was because they liked not having you around.

As for Theo, he never really liked going home. He’d lost his mum when he was young and his dad wasn’t the best of people, a death eater. So it was typical of him to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.

Theodore Nott. You’re boyfriend of 2 years. He would always spend the party cuddling you and cradling you on his bed, he had absolutely no alternate intentions. He loved looking after you. This time was no different.

It was about 10 minutes before people would normally start to pile into the slytherin common room and just on time Theo came into your dorm room, scooped you up, and carried you to his bed, setting you down. He went and picked out one of his baggiest hoodies and helped you put it on. Guiding your arms through and pulling it over your head making sure you didn’t get stuck. He swooped you into a massive cuddle singing softly into your ear. Arms wrapped tightly around you.

About 20 minutes had passed and you could tell this time felt different. The noise seemed so much more intense and it scared you. That’s when the shaking started. It wasn’t intense, but just a little. It was noticeable to you and Theo.

Theo immediately sat up and turned you so you were facing each other. He held your soft face in his hands. He spoke in italian knowing it calmed you down the quickest.

“tesoro, va bene, starai bene, sono qui” he muttered desperately trying to help

baby girl, it’s okay, you’ll be okay, i’m here

He gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead knowing it’s your favourite. You smile lightly trying to appreciate the help he was giving.

Theo then held your shaking hands and traced his thumb over them to soothe you. You turn around so your back is against his chest, not letting your hands separate.

He places a kiss on the top of your head. Thankfully this calms you down enough to block out the noise of the party on the other side of the door.

Before you knew it, it was the next morning, you had drifted off to sleep in Theodore’s arms. He had layed you down in bed and wrapped himself around you. He didn’t let you go all night.

masterlist

[tarjapearce]

Omg omg could we get a story about how Miguel and wife/reader first meet? Like maybe they both meet from high school or reader was watching Miguel play soccer with his friends in college!

Had this one sitting for a while cause I didn't know what to do. UNTIL, hehehe >:D Carneadas. (Mexican style bbq)

Pt 2

If someone would have told you that you'd find your future husband in a friend's of a friend gathering you would've just laugh it off.

Jessica and you were fresh out of college, and to celebrate it, she decided to take you on one of her outings. A suburban area, nice houses loitering around in every corner your eyes turned, a lot of parked cars and of course, people that clumped in the decored entrance.

Lights and loud spanish music were just the spark to create ambience, the true star of the night was brewing in two enormous pots. The smell of food lingered in the air the more Jessica pulled you within the crowd.

"Remind me again, who are these people?

"Friends of friends. Never been in a carneada before?"

"My family does these once a month, just don't get why is there so much people."

"We'll, everyone's for the food, so... yeah. Just have fun."

You greeted the people as your feet took you to the drinks. Beers, sodas, more beers and pitchers of horchata, Jamaica, and some lemonades were placed on the coolers.

Reaching for the horchata, you grabbed a plastic vase and poured yourself some. To your surprise a man, the biggest one you have seen in your whole life, stood next to you, his eyes focused in the different brands of canned beers submerged in ice.

Your hand reached for a Modelo and popped the lid out with one of your rings. The man eyed you with amusement. He grabbed a Corona but frowned upon not finding the lid popper. He was going to take the lid to his mouth and you gasped

"Wait! No. Don't do that."

"I can open them, thanks" His voice deep.

"Mano, si que eres terco." (Man, you're stubborn)

He blinked at your voice and handed you the beer, you just popped the lid with the corner of the table.

"Don't mess up your teeth."

The man seized you, a lax smile on his lips.

"Too late for that" He smirked, revealing a longer than average canine. Your eyes went up in surprise.

"Oh."

The music changed and you took the drinks to then sit next to Jessica. You gave her the beer. Some people danced, others were lining up for the food.

"What were you doing?"

"Just met Dracula."

Jessica tilted her head in confusion and laughed.

"I'm not joking, the man had big ass fangs."

"Didn't know you were into that sort of things, but we don't kink shame."

"Jessica!" Her boyfriend had swooped off her feet and took her to dance. Great. You were ditched.

At first, you refused to dance, but as the music changed, your feet were itching to do so. Another man was brave enough to approach you and ask you for a dance, then another, you danced with Jess and clapped once the song was over.

You went to the drinks again to refresh yourself, this time you got a Corona and took a long swig of it.

"My, that was so fun."

-----

Even though your evening had been fun, you needed a break from the party. The host, Peter, seemed like a very easygoing person. Jessica was his acquaintance.

You went to the kitchen in search for another glass of horchata, even though beers were tasty and reminded you a bit of home, the horchata was simply delicious. There was no glasses, but spotted a pack of plastic cups ontop. Problem, was that the fridge was a bit too high for your likings.

You pulled up a chair, ready to climb ontop when the same large hand reached over and pulled a couple of cups down.

"Thanks."

"Who said it was for you?"

The man from before teased, you rolled your eyes and climbed ontop of the chair to reach for a cup yourself.

"No te vayas a caer, Pitufina." (You'll fall down, Smurfette)

"Cállate, Drácula." (Shut up)

He shook his head with a chuckle.

What a douche

"Lemme"

"No, I can do it."

"Te vas a caer con esos tacones." (You'll fall down with those heels)

"It's not a big deal!"

"-Ta madre, lo que tienes de bonita lo tienes de terca. Bájate" (Your stubbornness only matches your beauty. Get down.)

Your lips pouted, a mild flush sweeping your face. You took his hand and he helped you to get down the chair. Even in your heels, you still looked small.

"You are supposed to say thanks."

"For doing something myself?"

His smile went a bit wider.

"Food's done. Let's go"

"Wait." You poured another glass of horchata

"Didn't know my recipe would have a fan."

"Meh, my mom's better"

Your smile smug as he deadpanned.

"Just bit more of sugar. And blend the rice well. There are some little pieces of it in the bottom."

He was about to protest when a man, similar to him spoke. His brother you supposed.

"Miguel?" He looked between him and you, "Ya está la carne, hay que servir" (Meats done, we gotta serve up)

He then left

"Wanna go critique my food as well?"

"Ohh, I'd love to yeah."

----

He'd serve the food along his younger brother, you were one of the last ones in getting your portion. He prepped your plate with a little more care, the Birria's consomé (broth) in a side, another little container for the sauces and of course two big loaded quesabirrias and a bunch of different roasted meats.

"Hope it's from your likings, chaparrita"

"We'll see about that, Dracula" You smirked and took the dish, fingers brushing for a moment.

"Provecho" (Bon Appetite)

------

"How was it?" He sat across you once more upon seeing you alone. Jessica had ditched you again. Oh she so owed you this one.

You shrugged with a smile.

"Good? Bad?"

"I'm teasing. It was great. Specially the broth. Thanks for cooking."

He took a swig of his beer.

"De nada." (You're welcome)

"Miguel! Hay que limpiar" (We gotta clean up)

Gabriel's voice boomed behind him.

"Need help with it?"

His eyes stared at you for a moment and pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Si quieres" (If you want to.)

-----

You had waved your goodbyes and hopped in with Jessica in her car and left. He just then realized that he never asked your name.

Dumbass.

[wonkawinka]

we’ll meet again

“we’ll meet again… don’t know where, don’t know when..”

alastor x angel!daughter!reader

CHAPTER ONE: don’t look at me like that!

— — CHAPTER TWO: smile like you mean it!

warnings/notes: NOT PROOF READ! blood, murder, guns, wounds, no use of y/n, uses she/her pronouns, reader is on the fem side, here are some things to know first, all the french was google translated i am so sorry hsdhdh

mawmaw- another way to address one’s grandma in the south

ma chére- french for my dear

as-tú mange?- french for have you been eating?

ça va aller - french for it is going to be okay

muffuletta- a sandwich that consists of provolone, olives, cured meat, and bread which originated in new orleans back in the early 1900s!

wc: 2003

————————-

LETTERS. letters turn to words. words turn to sentences. sentences turn to paragraphs. paragraphs turn to essays. essays turn to books.

one swoop in the air and one of the books gets snatched in a blur. the figure flew past the big, gold plaque which read The Records Room, landing softly on the floor of the library. you said gently as the big ol’ eye stared right back at you. heaven was littered with eyes. every crevice, ever corner, every wall of The Court had at least one staring right at you.

“oh, come on, don’t look at me like that.” the girl frowned at it, silently biting back on herself because she was quite literally talking to a book. it was as if the book was telling her to let it go, maybe even begging her to go home. her deer-like ears going against her head as she pondered the idea.

“ugh…” you released the book as it flew away, staring up as it joined its friends in the air— are all the books friends?

you grabbed your messenger bag, dusted your skirt, adjusted the vest, fixed your scarf…

and took a deep breath. today will be a good day, you thought mentally. if today isnt, tomorrow will be.

nodding at passerbyers with a polite smile, you strolled the streets of heaven, tracing your steps as if it was the back of your hand. people spoke your name gently, acknowledging your presence with soft tones.

one called out to you “nice to see you again, dear!” one smile to that woman.

then another “lookin’ good, toots!” another nod to that one man… despite the clear connotation of it.

“ate that up!” that made you nervously smile, not quite understanding the ‘new modern slang’ quite yet. looked like the teenager that recently arrived in heaven— a good person, you add.

you rounded the corner and sighed with relief at the sight of a familiar corner store. mawmaw’s corner. as you took note that the little store was closed, you reached for the secret key that sat in one of the flower pots.

third petunia to the left… ah. you pick it out of the pot and quietly open the door to the restaurant, locking it behind you.

“mawmaw?” you call out gently, not wanting to startle the poor woman. she was washing dishes, as usual, turning as she heard your voice.

she called your name in excitement, “ma chère!,” pulling you in for a hug which you happily accepted. she pinched your cheeks and turned your face from side to side to examine it.

“as-tú mange? you look so tired, sugar. i told ya’ to start watchin’ your health!” she scolds you with a sigh, shaking her head in disapproval, her new orleans accent slipping out as she pinches your cheek. “you youngins, tsk tsk.”

“i know, i know...”

she let go of your ear to turn back to the kitchen, giving you time to rub your cheek and soothe the pain. she quickly whipped up a muffuletta for you, her motherly love engraved into all her cooking.

“wouldve gotten you jambalaya, but people started comin’ left and right for it, dont even know where they comin’ from!” she exclaims with a laugh, brining the food towards you. she went on to talk about her day which you, of course, offered your utmost maximum attention to each word that fell from her mouth. the only thing that filled your ears was the subtle tumble of the air conditioning and the thick new orleans accent leaking from her tone. it was comforting in a nostalgic way. forms of her reminded you of your own father. own father. father. fath—

“oh! happy father’s day by the way!” you say with a slight teasing smile, but it was genuine for the most part. she turned to you with a— well, unamused, and albeit a confused face.

“hunny, i’m a woman.”

“that works her aaaa——,” the older woman cocked her eyebrow at your language choice, “bbbbutt… off every single day even when she’s dead. that’s enough recognition on both father and mother’s day” you say with a smile, finishing the last bits of your food.

“y’know, sugar, sometimes you remin’ me of my son.” she says with a smile. “quite the charmer back in the day, i’ll say!”

“never knew if he had kids, though.” she tried grabbing your plate, offering to wash it, but you declined with a smile, getting up to wash it yourself.

“well… sometimes, you remind me of my father.” you said, “say, what's his name? tell me ‘bout him. who knows, maybe he did have kids.”

the ringing of the water filling your ears as they awaited to hear an answer from the older woman. they twitched in reaction to the noise— it made you think back.

— — — — — 1932.

you walked through the woods quietly, trekking your way quietly to the cabin. home. you skipped in your steps as the delight of finishing your tasks early filled your core. the leaves swayed in the air, whispering untold nothings throughout the night. the gravel under you crunched against your heels as you got closer and closer to your humble abode.

you wouldve kept going. your father always told you to head straight home after your miscellaneous errands were done, especially after dusk. his words ringed in your mind always saying, “its is never safe for a dear like you to be hanging around town at night!”

there was a whisper in the bushes. a quiet one, but it was noticeable. it was enough to halt your steps.

you stood your ground as your eyes pivoted to the greenery. adrenaline started pumping; it removed the glue from your shoes that kept you from approaching the sound. what would be the harm in checking it out, anyway? you were close enough to your house as is.

something grabbed your ankle— shrieking in horror as the hand pulled itself towards you.

a man, bloodied, battered, drenched in his own blood looked up at you in a panic. the metallic stench rung in your nose as you stared down at the man in shock. he looked vaguely familiar— but the bloodied mask over his face barely made him recognizable. a flick away and all the oxygen would stop flowing through his veins. something turned in you. churned. stomach twisting in absolute horror and disgust. your mind told you to run. to scream. to call for help. to do anything but get your hands dirty.

but you couldnt leave the poor man.

you pulled the guy out of the bushes, only to discover a gunshot wound right in his abdomen. it was like some ravage animal was trying to tear him up right there and then. he stared up to you, not talking— hell, he couldnt talk. blood dripped from his mouth like a faucet. he couldnt if he tried.

but eyes always spoke. he didnt need to use his words. he looked grateful in a way. grateful he wasnt alone when he’ll die.

hands bloodied as if you were the one who caused it. his wound pooled out fountains of blood, onto the ground, seeping into your skirt.

“who… did this to you?” you whispered to him, bloodied hands shaking violently in reaction to the sight. he wanted to answer— but he couldnt.

you knew better than that.

you held his hand when he passed— which only took roughly around two minutes. it didnt take long.

you stood up. turned. looked. saw.

a man was looking at you from the woods. it was dark, but nothing could hide that manic smile, cheeks outstretched that it was nearly not human. nearly. he looked at you, eyes boring into your face.

he kept looking at you. it was only a matter of seconds, but to you it felt like hours. days. years. decades passed in those seconds. time ticked. it slowed down in the fastest way possible. it sped up in the slowest way possible.

you wanted him to stop looking at you.

your father— no. your father never looked at you like that. thats not the man who tucked you to sleep. thats not the man who made your favorite pancakes when you were sad. thats not the man who let you sleep with him whenever you had a nightmare. thats not the man who only trusted you when making his coffee every morning. it was unlike him. her father would never—

there was a gun pointed to her.

“dad—?” you whispered, as if he could hear her for the distance they were at.

the trigger popped.

the clock started.

the body jolted violently at the impact. it fell. blood pooled from the area like floods of rose petals bathing the forest floor.

it was a perfect hit. alastor always had perfect aim, anyway. he was never going to miss. he never misses. but as he approached, he had wished he did.

he approached the corpses slowly, making no haste in his steps. two birds, one stone. then he saw you.

you.

alastor’s manic smile faltered as the realization dawned on him. he fell to his knees, dropping the rifle, nearly throwing it to the side. his eyes blew open as he was instantly to your side. it was quite pathetic— especially for him. by now, he wouldve been tearing his victim’s flesh open, feasting on his prey like some crazed animal.

four minutes.

you, weren’t supposed to be home yet. you, weren’t supposed to wander to the small, suspicious sounds of the forest.

you weren’t the main target.

you coughed up blood, suffering the same fate of the man you had just encountered a few moments ago. now you were the victim, fallen to the forever bloodied hands of your manic father. the fact it was your father still hasn’t occurred to you fully yet.

he softly cradled you in his arms, now seeing your face stare back at him. “pa?” you coughed out, earning a shush from alastor.

“it’ll be okay, my dear.” he said, not sure if he was assuring himself too. his manic laugh grew louder and louder as he rocked you back and forth like a helpless child. “ça va aller..” he repeated this like a spell. a prayer. a grasp of intangible hope.

three minutes.

“pa, it hurts.” hurts was an understatement. your whole life was draining from one measly hole in your neck. it burned. ached. everything you have worked for draining out of your body in the matter of minutes.

“i know, my dear. it’ll all be better soon..” he carefully scooped you up to rest in his chest as if he were comforting you from a nightmare.

but his ego would never admit he was comforting himself in this nightmare.

it wasnt a nightmare, however. it was reality. your blood pooled onto his coat. his hands. everywhere. the stench reminding him that this was in fact, reality.

two minutes.

in moments of pure desperation, tears pooled down his face, completely contrasting the smile on his face. his eyes spoke.

“im sorry, pa.” you apologized. why were you apologizing?, you asked yourself. he was the one that just threw away your whole life, you thought. but—

but he was your father.

“don’t you apologize, my little dove,” he responded, “don’t you apologize.” his hand held your head to his shoulder. the hand that caused this mess in the first place.

one minute.

your life flashed before your eyes. did he even care? were you just another toy of his that he could kill? was he behind all of these killings he himself announced on the radio show you, oh, so adored— no, of course he did. it all made sense now.

“i love you.”

wait.

why did you say that?

times up.

— — — — — PRESENT.

the ringing of the water came back to you. the lukewarm water weaved through your fingers. it brought you back to your senses.

“say, his name was alastor.” she answered.

alastor.

[bestygogirl]

BEST YGO GIRL: SEMI FINALS

Match 2

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive

she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists

as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Aki Izayoi

An abuse victim who isn't the perfect passive figure but gets to work through her complicated feelings about power, agency, and family. Even with Yusei's help, she is the star of the show when she learns to control her powers and reconciles with her father, it is so fun that a ygo heroine gets to take such an antagonistic role bu not be shamed for her anger

please vote for my main girl, aki izayoi. aki was led to believe she was a monster from a young age by her father, who treated her powers like it made her unworthy of love. as a result, divine was able to swoop in and take advantage of aki's low self esteem. for years, aki believed herself unworthy of love and was molded into a living weapon at the hands of authority figures in her life. she was taken advantage of, and thus when she finally comes face to face with yusei, she refuses to believe he could provide her with unconditional friendship. who would want to be around a monster, after all?

aki also nearly beats yusei TWICE in a duel, bringing it down to a single turn difference. she comes toe to toe with him, and it truly is the result of who dueled better. she remains a fierce duelist, btw. the second season, aki gets her duel runner license, and immediately nearly beats the ass of a tournament winning turbo duelist - to the point where once again, a single card is the deciding factor. that's right: she nearly won. if not for a single trap card, aki izayoi would've won.

a fierce duelist who was shaped into a loving, caring woman despite years of being beaten down by the world: aki izayoi. vote for her now on your phones.

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

I know Vaggie’s name has had a lot of discussion for…certain reasons.

A popular rewrite idea for her name has been “Vagabond” which I think would be an interesting name, because of its meaning and what it could mean for her specifically.

Idea. She shortens it to Vaga!

Vaga's an actual name. Means Meadow Dweller in Spanish. Would not only hint to her roots(Salvadorian 🇸🇻) but also connect her a bit to being a moth. U can find them in nature, such as meadows! It’d be a way to keep her name(it’s been around so long I’ve grown used to it so I’m attached to names that start with V, Va or rhymes with it like Maggie) but with a different meaning!

Vaga-No my name isn’t based on Veggietales or Vegemite or you know what, ITS SHORT FOR VAGABOND!

Angel checks up the meaning-…Why would u name yourself that?

Vaga-It’s...complicated.

Vaga also can mean "swooping eagle" or "falling vulture" in Arabic Vega and "travel" in Old Norse.

What do u think? Would u keep her name or would u change it, and what to? I'd love to know💖

[ninjamelissajulien]

how can people not love “the absolute worst”??? the villains are making fun of the ninja, the VA’s are clearly having a blast at being overdramatic (Lloyd’s ‘pleading’ to UV, Kirby Laughing during his line, Fugidove as a whole), fugidove’s introduction with no previous mentioning and just being there as a weird simp for jay, Pixal swooping in like a badass 15/10 best episode

[chernayawidow]

DATING ADA WONG HEADCANNONS — SFW

PAIRING: Ada Wong x GN!Reader

A/N: I’ve probably done a terrible job of characterising Ada, but she’s just so hot and cool (and there’s like no material on her) that I had to do something for her. Let me know if you’re interested in me doing more for her!

Being in a relationship with Ada Wong is by no means an easy feat. This woman is an enigma, and a relationship with her is no different.

The most you could get out of her is potentially an on-and-off type of deal. But if you’re willing to put in the work, then you’ll just have to cope with occasional long distance.

Her love language is along the lines of acts of service. Maybe not in the traditional sense of 'doing the laundry for you', but as we see in her interactions with Leon, she swoops in to save and assist him very often. It's her own kind of affection—it's how we know she cares. So naturally, that would carry across to you.

She has the ability to make you feel like the only person in the world. This is because when Ada does something for you, it’s not out of the kindness of her heart. This woman is a a spy who has and will work for very bad people. So anything that she says, gives or does, is because she wants to—because she cares.

At first, her intense eyes and sultry voice were an intimidating factor about her. But they eventually became some of her most comforting traits.

Ada doesn't use many pet names for you because a good majority of them make her cringe.

However, in an ironic way, she'll address you as 'Sweetheart', 'Kitten', or 'Lover'. In spite of her saying these names out of wry, her voice makes them sound cute. (Referring to VA’s; Sally Cahill, Jolene Anderson, Courtenay Taylor)

If you’re normal—as in you’re not a spy or an agent of any sort—then it’ll essentially be a "living a double life" scenario.

Ada was upfront with you from the beginning about how “busy” her schedule would be. She simply told you that she moves around for work, that the company she works for has strict confidentiality rules, and that thats all you need to know.

While it stings you to know that there's a whole portion of her life that you're absent from, you couldn’t fault her for something she was upfront about.

Getting Ada to open up to you will take time, that’s just a no brainer. As a spy, it goes against her very instincts. So when you first started seeing her, lots of what she told you about herself was fabrication woven with hints of truth.

Ada is the type of person who makes you feel as if she’s opening up to you, when in reality, questions about her background are met with vague responses.

Yet she speaks so charismatically that it makes you believe that she’s sharing more then what she really is.

She’s blunt and outspoken, so if you’re acting jealous then she’ll call you out on it immediately.

While on the jealousy topic, Ada doesn’t really get hit with these feelings. She’s confident in herself and your relationship, which clears up any potential insecurity that could give way to try one feelings. She trusts you enough to believe you wouldn’t do anything like that.

That’s not to say that she’s immune to jealousy, because there are definitely times where she can’t help but feel it swell in her gut.

And if you’re wanting to spice things up in your NSFW life with the presence of others, then she’s happy to discuss it. (Let me know if you want headcannons dedicated to NSFW)

She’s not someone who runs from arguments or conflict, she faces it head on. If there’s any tension in your relationship, you best believe she’ll address it.

If you’re being cold and distant, she’ll force you to sit down and talk to her about what’s bothering you. And when I say force, I mean by any means necessary.

Ada is very protective over you. So if she finds out that somebody’s hurt you? Then she will find out who it was, and she will eliminate them—as well as whoever else she needs to—in order to bring her own brand of justice. Zero fucks given.

If your relationship stands the test of time, there will be a point where she realises that may end up being a permanent fixture in her relatively unstable life.

This will potentially lead to Ada coming clean about who she really is and opening up to you. A very big step for her. One that only comes if you’re in a serious enough relationship.

[thegirlwiththeblush]

Topolino

Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: A pickpocket runs into an unusual altercation on his way home from his daily antics. 

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing in Italian

Special thanks to @vorsdany, one of my fav humans who courageously proofread for me once again (love ya bro <3)

i hope at least one person enjoys this because i have no fellow assassin's creed fan friends :,D

The wind whistled lowly through the alley I crouched in as I counted my day’s worth of findings. I shook the florins into my hand, trying not to grab the attention of passersby. Counting money wasn’t a crime, but had I been lucky, the total would’ve been incredibly suspicious.

But unfortunately, the victims of my shenanigans that day must not have been as wealthy as I would’ve liked, because I hadn’t even come close to my goal. I grumbled softly as I spilled my findings back into my leather purse, pulling the strings taut before stowing it in my shirt.

Findings, plunder, dirty money, call it what you want.

I rose to my feet with little enthusiasm; I didn’t like going home without hitting my target. Maybe on my way back I could sneak a couple more florins, just for the satisfaction. I’d have enough to buy something substantial for breakfast the next morning before starting up my escapades once again.

Peeking out of the alley, I joined the crowds with the smallest movements possible, careful to avoid the attentive gazes of any nearby guards as we headed into the town square. The sun sank lower in the sky as I shifted through the streets, jumping from group to group, never walking alone. People were quick to recognize a pickpocket, and if I ran into anyone I’d previously preyed on, my small collection from the day would be the least of my problems.

Shopkeepers all around were packing down their stalls, and travelling doctors were packing up their equipment. No doubt they all had families or friends to go home to, wives to complain to their customers about, frustrating children who took up their personal space, neighbours who intruded at the most inconvenient times. They must consider themselves so unfortunate, and yet I’d give anything to be in their shoes, instead of going ‘home’ to an abandoned, dilapidated gondola. I sighed heavily and shifted from the crowded town square into a narrower street, gently pushing aside an obnoxious minstrel as I went.

Only to stumble upon two figures dueling around three corpses.

I ran and grabbed a ledge nearby, hoisting myself up to avoid the clashing swords as the two of them moved up and down the alley with ease, their swords still swinging back and forth. I crouched and observed in stunned silence; one of the figures, garbed in a white, flowing cloak, appeared to be gaining the advantage over the other, who, upon closer inspection, I recognized as a guard, as were the bodies sprawled over the path. This guy appeared to be in over his head.

“It's a good thing I needed an excuse to test out this new blade of mine,” the mysterious man remarked. “I must be lucky, stumbling upon an eager idiot like you.”

I was shocked to hear the confident tone coming from the cloaked figure. He sounded young, but bold, and his wisecrack didn’t slow him in his advances.

“I wouldn’t call a man who lost his father and brother in one fell swoop ‘lucky’,” the guard sniggered in retort, and the cloaked figure’s strikes became swifter and even more aggressive as he growled lowly, “Fottiti, bastardo!”

The guard stumbled back, and the vigilante didn’t miss a beat; sheathing his sword with one hand and drawing a short blade with his other, he grabbed the guard’s shirt front with his now free left hand and spun him round, wrapping his arm around his neck. He held the blade to the man’s throat, his hood keeping his face out of my sight.

“Please,” the guard whimpered, “have mercy on me!”

The cloaked figure shrugged. “Va bene,” he relented, before sliding the dagger clean across his gullet. “I’ll make it quick.”

The guard crumpled to the ground, a few strangled moans escaping his mouth before he went silent. The cloaked figure knelt and wiped his blade on the guard’s shirt, and he snuck his hand into the leather pouch at the waist, withdrawing a few florins with a smirk.

Only then did I realize my mouth had been agape as I’d watched, and a short involuntary noise of shock flew out before I could shut it. The man spun round to face me, holding his dagger in a defensive position as he looked me up and down.

“Merda,” he murmured somewhat nervously. “What do you want? What are you doing here?”

“I- I-” I stammered, but before I could come up with an answer, he was on the ledge next to me in two or three steps.

“I didn’t even see you sneak in here,” he said, tilting his head like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “You sly devil; were you sent to spy on me?”

“No, no, not at all,” I hurriedly assured him, my hands raised slightly, afraid he might not believe me. “I swear, this is my route home and I stumbled upon your little conflitto, and I did not wish to interrupt.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Conflitto, hm? You think that’s all it was?”

He acted as if he wanted me to call him out. “What, are you some kind of dangerous criminal? Or did they call you bambino and hurt your feelings?”

He inhaled sharply and stepped toward me, and suddenly I lost my newly-found confidence and raised my hands once again. “Just a joke, just a joke!” I protested, and gave a short laugh as if to prove it. He rolled his eyes and turned away from me, climbing down from the ledge.

I blinked in confusion. “Y- You’re just gonna walk away?”

“I have better things to do than entertain a little intelligentone who’s up past their bedtime,” he replied without turning his head. “I’m going home.”

I was no longer impressed by this guy; now, he was getting on my nerves. I jumped down after him, and before he could turn to face me, I snuck his stiletto out of its place in his belt, slipping it complacently into my own.

“What do you want, birbante?” he demanded roughly, swinging something around on his finger by the drawstring.

My leather purse. How the hell-

“Give me back my blade and you can have your dirty money, fair and square.” He held his hand out patiently, and I handed him the dagger with little hesitation, reaching for the purse. He smirked at my desperation, and I scowled. “You think you’re clever, hm, furfante? You want to play a little game?”

I couldn’t say I liked the patronizing tone he’d taken on, but after that stunt, his proposition was enticing. I wanted to know what else this mysterious and strangely dressed young man had up his sleeve.

“All right,” I relented. “What did you have in mind?”

He turned to face the town square behind us, his gaze settling on the tallest building, and he nodded to himself. “I want you to race me to the top of that building.”

I blinked once again, but I let the moment of hesitation pass. “Sure,” I agreed, folding my arms confidently. I had no doubt this man was incredibly agile, but I was not going to back down after he challenged me like I was a toddler.

He cracked his knuckles and smirked at me. “On my count, then.” He took a deep breath and shook out his legs and arms in preparation. “One, two-”

“Three!” I could not possibly have resisted the opportunity; I took off, leaving him in the dust and reaching the base of the tower in seconds. Leaping up and grabbing a small outcrop with both hands, I resisted the temptation to look down and check his progress. I reached up with smug satisfaction, sure that my surprise was enough of a headstart to ensure my victory.

Until a light grunt a few palms away from me startled me out of my reverie.

He was not climbing, but rather, leaping; as he flew up from each perch, he reached for the next, clasping with both hands and using his incredible upper body strength to hoist himself up.

Unlike me, he was unable to resist the urge; he snuck a peek down at me and sent a charming smirk my way before resuming his ascent.

I groaned in frustration when I realized I’d come to a complete stop to watch his method. I continued climbing, reaching for anything I could get a decent grip on. I was fast, but nowhere near fast enough; by the time my blistered hands had gotten me half-way, he was dangling his legs over the edge of the top, watching me with his chin in his palm and his elbow resting on his thigh.

“You’re like a little mouse,” he taunted. “You scurry, but ever so slow! If I’d known you were going to take so long, I’d have brought some bread and wine up with me; I’m starving up here.”

“Maybe I did this on purpose, then, to give you a taste of my life,” I retorted bitterly. “Not everyone can just go around murdering soldiers when they want to break the law.”

As I pulled myself up the last few arms and up onto an overhang, he narrowed his eyes at me. “You think I was fighting because I had to steal food?”

I shrugged slightly as I crawled carefully over to where he sat on the edge. “How should I know? I just met you.”

He grunted. “Fair point.” Sighing deeply, he added, “It’s far more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”

Unsure of what to say, I nodded slowly, waiting to see if he would continue.

“My name is Ezio,” he explained. “Ezio Auditore.”

I recognized the name. After a moment of contemplation, I remembered where from; two men by that name had been hanged a few weeks ago, for a crime I could not recollect.

“My family was falsely accused of treason,” he added, as if reading my thoughts. “I seek to avenge them. That is all you need to know.” He looked so sad as he finished this statement that I felt a twinge of pity for him, forgetting our petty competition. I had no doubt he was telling the truth.

“Well, I live in an abandoned gondola and I steal money from people,” I said, “so, if that makes you feel any better...”

He chuckled lightly, and smiled at me; the gesture filled me with a warmth I had not felt in years; something like what I’d felt when my mother or father would smile at me, but, a little different.

Before I could express any sort of feeling, he rose to his feet, dusting himself off. “Well, topolino,” he said, “this was fun. We should meet again and have a rematch someday.”

I laughed. “Topolino, hm? That’s quite an upgrade from birbante.”

He grinned mischievously, tousling my hair and filling my stomach once again with warm butterflies. “Like I said,” he whispered, “like a little mouse.”

He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, perching on the overhang I’d pulled myself up on earlier. Turning back for one last look at me, he beamed and winked at me, before leaping over the edge.

My jaw dropped as he disappeared, but I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of his body hitting a wheelbarrow full of hay below. I peeked over to watch him sprint away, already missing his charming aura, wily as it was.

Reluctantly, I began my descent, wondering if I’d ever see the hooded vigilante ever again.

Translation Guide: fottiti: fuck you bastardo: bastard va bene: all right merda: shit intelligentone: wiseguy/know-it-all/smart-ass birbante: rascal furfante: scoundrel topolino: baby mouse

[nothing-particularly-exciting]

the women’s road race was absolutely INSANE. faulkner swooping in for gold at the final push. vos, kopecky and vas crossing the finish line neck and neck for silver and bronze. what an electric atmosphere

[minnyroll]

Hi there! Random question, how would/are you doing Zipped Up? I'm just wondering cuz I'm trying to make a series with my friend, but I would like to ask for advice, do you do

-Storyboarding, voicelines, then full animation?

-Voicelines, storyboarding, full animation?

Really sorry if I bugged you, just wondering! Ty if you answer!

Hello hello! This is an amazing question! It truly depends on what you think will work best for your crew! For our timeline, we did voice acting before storyboarding! As a director, I thought having the VAs approach their lines in their own unique fun ways positively influenced the visuals of our storyboards, as I felt it truly gave them time to become their characters through their voice acting rather than going solely off of visuals before hand. Right after storyboarding was finalized and revised, we went in and recorded follie/re-recorded any lines for context, as the visuals may have altered the context of the line itself. This goes without saying: Every studio does it differently! There are many studios that prefer to do storyboarding first, as it's always a lot simpler to get all of the recorded lines and follie out of the way in one swoop! If you feel that storyboarding pre-voice acting is better for your team, go for it! It truly has a lot to do with what you think is best for your series! I wish you the best of luck in the production of your series!! I can't wait to see what you whip up! I hope this helps!

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

so.. non-c//a criticism about spop. because, you know, c//a wasn't the only thing that spop messed up. I'll just get straight to the point.

Horde Prime was a bad villain.

he had such a cool character design, i had high hopes for him. but like everything else in s5, horde prime's potential was wasted.

to put it shortly, he was boring. he was the typical pure-evil villain archetype with none of the charm. his motives weren't very interesting, we know nothing about him except that he's hordak's brother and an egotistic fascist with a god complex. his VA did a good job but his character was so badly written, even they couldn't salvage it.

even hordak was more intimidating than him until he got defeated by the inexperienced teenager who was never shown to be improving her skills but that's a whole another post

i thought the whole religious trauma aspect of it was going to be explored more, but it just turned out to be cartoonishly stupid, with the typical brainwashing trope.

not to mention, they even added shipping fodder in scenes with horde prime, because of course they had to. how else would people know that catra loves adora? she hasn't ever shown it so the only way the crew can convince everyone that she cares about adora is by having the main villain point it out (not to mention the scrapped off script where he says "you always wanted more but all she ever wanted was you" because we love a villain who exists solely to provide the viewers with ship angst)

the first one pisses me off so much because they didn't even bother to draw catra's eyes dilated yet had horde prime mention it?? all while glimmer was sobbing and pleading him to not hurt adora, but she's not the one in love apparently. i feel like this show was trying to gaslight us

anyway, shipping aside. one common trope in media you may have heard about is the third-act breakdown. this is something that usually happens to villains where their once intimidating and confident façade starts to break apart as they are close to being defeated by our hero.

the keyword here is third-act. if you want a villain to be genuinely scary or an actual threat, you cannot make them lose their cool as soon as something goes wrong. because it just makes them look insecure and weak, and you're left wondering why they're even the main villain in the first place.

and the problem with horde prime is exactly that. as soon as adora swoops in and saves catra, horde prime is immediately angered and upset that his plans failed. and from there, we see him get irritated and lose his cool easily multiple times.

this lessens the anticipation because you're not wondering how the protagonists will defeat him, you're wondering when they'll do it. because if he loses his cool so easily, it's clear that he's not cunning or calculating, he doesn't have a backup plan. and a good villain always has a backup plan, they are always one step ahead of the heroes, because that's how you raise the stakes.

it's no wonder horde prime isn't even a memorable villain and people only talk about how he brainwashed catra or how he "ships catradora". there's nothing else notable about him and it's honestly so evident that he was only introduced so that the previous villains could be redeemed for the sake of making certain ships canon.

they literally had to make it so that adora might die because of the failsafe thing, because having horde prime as a villain wasn't enough stakes.

they tried to make a connection between adora and horde prime with mara being his previous nemesis, but it was really hamfisted and didn't provide enough tension or exposition. it certainly didn't feel as tense as any of the fights between catra and adora.

horde prime could have been a really cool and threatening villain, but spop decided to focus more on handing out free redemption arcs for all the antagonists and butchering everyone's character arcs instead. bravo.

[super-hero-confessions]

Billy Butcher is a genuinely worse person than Homelander and this is plain to see when you actually read the comics.

Homelander actually feels disgusted with himself when he does bad things. And he only does them because he's been led to believe he was horrible without actually having done any of the shit he's blackmailed for in the photos and videos. Including what happened to Becky.

If it's not clear. It was Black Noir, a clone of Homelander, who put on his costume, did those terrible things and enjoyed them, and then took pictures and videos to frame Homelander. Noir was the one to rape Becky, but Homelander got the blame.

And the very few things we actually see Homelander do show us how much revulsion he feels from doing them, to the point where he throws up and has a visceral reaction, like he doesn't actually want to and isn't used to it. Asking himself "what have I done?".

That's far from a spoiler at this point, these comics have been out in full, for several years now. I'm not gonna pull punches or be dishonest about it like some people confessing weird out of context bullshit either.

In contrast.

Butcher kills all of his friends, excuse me. All of the people he used and lied to and made believe he was actually their friend, with no remorse or second thought. Or at least tries to.

Kimiko. Frenchie. MM. Even Vas (Love Sausage). All of them die by Billy's hands. For no other reason beyond.

"They're supes."

Despite the fact that this is after he discovered he was wrong about Homelander the whole fucking time.

Down to trying to kill MM's momma. Down to killing Janine's fucking mother in front of her so that she witnesses it. And then makes sure MM knows that for Billy, he "ain't got no mates".

Hughie is the only one to survive because after killing the others, Butcher threatens to kill Starlight and says he won't stop unless Hughie stops him.

There's no question here. Butcher was always the bigger monster. He just didn't have the power to be as bad as Homelander could be. Potentially.

Potentially. And that is a huge fucking key word.

Barring the fact that Homelander never actually met that potential or even wanted it. Noir was the actual monster, using Billy to confuse him into believing he had, so he would try. Just so the clone could swoop in kill him.

Imagine that.

And there are still people deranged enough to think there's any kind of contest on who's worse between Billy and Homelander?

Fuck's sake, this guy immediately kills a fucking premie baby instead of trying to pacify it because it's terrified out of its mind and has powers it can't control. With a lamp.

I love the show, I love the portrayals and the jobs done by the actors. I think it does a great job touching on the important topics and themes in the comics while connecting it to current events. I do hope it has a different ending. But one thing's clear.

While the characters are fundamentally the same at their cores. They made Billy softer and sweeter while they made Homelander harder and more ruthless in order to make the dynamic more mainstream and less controversial. Which is honestly a bit disappointing.

It also makes me a little worried because if they don't find a way to navigate that well, it may mean they've messed up the finish line before we could ever reach it. They could definitely go for something more comic accurate or even include Billy killing Ryan and just not caring anymore as per typical Butcher fashion, but given that they've already chickened out on some of the more intense stuff, I can't say it's high in the hopes factor.

And a happy ending doesn't exactly feel appropriate either.

But who knows, maybe the set up is there specifically to make everything hurt that much more in the end if or when Billy betrays everyone.

And this is coming from someone who is ecstatic to see Homelander go on a chaotic rampage of blood, death, and destruction. Bring it the fuck on you goddamn chaos cockteases.

But yeah, no. It's no contest. Billy is a far worse character than Homelander in the comics, and he has the potential to get a lot worse in the show. He's not there yet, but it's pretty clear he actively wants to be and it's grating him that he isn't yet.

Guess it'll be interesting to see if that comes to fruition or if there's even some crazy twist that shows us Homelander isn't as bad as people think.

[candychameleon]

ok gonna be doing some last-minute charms for some of the G1 VAs that'll be guests at tfcon…I already have some planned, but I'm debating if I should do any more

so uh POLL TIME.

[arminsumi]

*gasp* WAIT Jay I just realized the same thing happened to us!

You with Gojo and me with Dazai (from bsd, forgive me if you don't know who that is). We were both fixated on Armin until a silly entp man came and swooped us into a new era. (Not that I don't love Armin anymore, I'm sure you do too, but my blog is much more split now).

Fun fact: Gojo and Dazai have the same English va!

Anyways, that's all, I hope you're able to rest well tonight and enjoy the end of the year <3

HEH 😌 i've seen that one scene of dazai dropping the f-word (i just looked at it bc i learned that he had the same english va as gojo so i craved more of his voice hehe) but that's all i know about him. i have nooo idea what bsd is about but i'll try watch it in the new year!! i rlly wanna get into more things

ehhh these damn entps 😩💖

i'm glad to know the same thing happened for you tho, i get self-conscious sometimes and feel guilty about not writing for armin or aot. but i just really enjoy jjk and gojo at the moment so i want to enjoy it to the max 🥹 i love gojo silly rn like how i loved armin silly last year