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off the grid — II
✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰
summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?
genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.
wc: 5k
a/n: hello everyone! sorry for the slight delay in posting this part, i was super busy yesterday and couldn't proofread this part. please do let me know if there are any spelling / grammar errors in this part. all of the other parts of this fic will go in the masterlist <3 thank u so much for reading
“nothing happened in the way i wanted, every corner of this house is haunted.” - gracie abrams, ‘i miss you, i’m sorry’
——— ₊ ⊹ BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX
"kelly, stop it. we're in public— what are you doing?" max was exhausted with his relationship with his girlfriend. she always made his personal life quite tiring with all of her demands. she harshly pushed him away, not wanting to hear anything else from her boyfriend.
max always tried his best in his relationship with kelly, always listening to her demands, always trying to make him happy, always trying to appease whatever demon that was inside of kelly for the day. but it seemed like his actions were not enough for her.
"no max, i'm done. if you don't want to put a ring on my finger, then it's over," kelly had tears in her eyes before she turned her back on max.
with those last words, she stormed off.
and max didn't bother to chase after her anymore because he, too, was done with their relationship. it was his last straw.
he didn't really understand how it started but kelly started becoming obsessed with the idea of marriage. he had told her in the middle of their relationship that he wasn’t looking for someone to marry. personally he didn’t really want to get married, it came with too much legal issues that he wasn’t looking forward to in case their relationship fell apart.
"what if we got married max?" kelly rubbed her dainty fingers over max's knuckles, max stiffens up at the question before looking at her with a sigh, his look was all that she needed for her to roll her eyes and look away, snatching her hand that was lovingly holding his own.
max didn't understand where this was coming from, he had explained his boundaries very early in the relationship, that he, himself, didn't really understand the concept of marriage or want it.
"love, we talked about this. i don't want to get married, i like things how they are," max touched her forearm, but she moved away from him, a bit too harshly for his liking.
the comfortable atmosphere built around their shared apartment had shattered, and all there was left was the fragments of that comfortable space.
"what if p grows up and she asks, 'mommy, why do you not have a ring around your finger?' then what max?" kelly snapped, standing up with her back faced towards him, not wanting to be near his proximity. max looked away from her, anywhere but her.
"p will understand as long as you explain it to her, why are you so worried about that? she doesn't understand other than the games you install on her ipad and coloring. i seriously don't understand where this is coming from," max tried to stand up and touch her shoulder but she turned around roughly and glared at him.
"it does matter if she understands, what were you thinking?" kelly raised her voice, now getting angrier by the second, "i'm going to be forty soon and still no ring on my finger max, time's ticking and i'm going to have what i want or it's over."
he had caught wind about people on social media bullying her, how they called her a groomer when she approached him when he was young and he didn’t know how to feel about it.
they all called the relationship "inappropriate" and kelly preying on a young driver, but he didn't think it was at the time. now, he was starting to realize that maybe it was.
maybe she wanted things from him a man her age at the time couldn't give her.
max's mind was clouded when he got in that car at australia, it was hard for him of course. he had a long relationship with kelly but he knew when to stop when he felt tired.
the dnf made it harder on max, fucking engine failure. there were rumors going around, as per usual, on why max decided to dnf that day. a lot of people had assumed it was because of his breakup with kelly but that wasn't the reason but it sure as shit added onto his sour mood.
the season went past and he tried his hardest, scoring points, getting poles, wins. he felt hollow though, he still couldn't get over the break up which was uncharacteristic of him.
max scolded himself sometimes, for loving too much. for giving the people who didn't deserve the love he gave. but sometimes he knew that he was a bit rough around the edges, his personality was a lot and he knew not a lot of people were willing to put up with it.
that included you.
he felt horrible for causing you that much heartbreak but he didn't know how to properly show remorse to you, it was his fault and he knew it. both accidents were his fault now that he looked back and actually thought about what actually happened.
then the incident with you and him, sleeping on him just to find some semblance of comfort.
and for once in his life, he was scared.
not scared that you might hate him even more for trying to comfort you, but more so of the fact that how comfortable he felt when he was comforting you.
but after months of heartbreak, that was the first time he didn't think about kelly.
your rookie year ended on a positive note at least, ferrari had managed to overcome all odds and win the constructor's cup with charles becoming the driver's champion.
on the off-season, as soon as he got home. he entered his apartment he shared with kelly, with her sitting there as if she was waiting for him.
"i'm taking the apartment, you have a lot of money. get yourself a new one."
the words coming out of her mouth were cold, and as if that wasn't enough, she had already packed his things into boxes, thankfully they were labelled and not just strewn about without care.
the first night he had settled into his apartment, he was in his feels. he felt upset, rightfully so. he just got kicked out of his own apartment that he paid for, taken by his, now, ex-girlfriend to live in.
and just his luck, the convenience store down the street (which he thought was going to be open around the clock) was closed.
'why the fuck do these things happen to me when i'm already feeling shitty?' he thought to himself before begrudgingly trudging up the street back to his apartment, letting his feelings out in the elevator, when the elevator doors opened, he was caught off guard by a pretty ferrari driver.
max greeted her with as much warmth as he could muster up, "oh, hi y/n."
"what are you doing in my apartment complex?" were the first things out her lips.
SECOND YEAR ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆
you and max never really talked about whatever the fuck happened in that ferrari motorhome that night and you didn't want to. your mental health was already fucked as it is and you didn't want to make it worse for the second season, if you were even getting a seat in the next season.
thankfully, ferrari saw the potential in you and resigned with you for a multi-year contract, up until 2027. surprisingly, you had offers from different teams but refused to meet up with them as you were already signed to the iconic red team.
it was finally the winter break and everyone was off races until next year, it felt good. not having to attend multiple parties every month and socialize with people that you really didn't give a fuck about but needed their networking in order to boost your career.
being a female in motorsports was hard, you had never shared your hardships with anyone. knowing that they probably didn't have the same difficulties as you getting through the ranks.
you remembered the taunts, the teasing looks from the boys you were competing against in the karting days but those looks and the taunts gave you enough to propel you to the spot you had now.
"oh look, it's the girly girl driving today. must be an easy race for you ey?" one of the friends of the boy that you were competing today taunted you near enough so you could hear.
it hurt. hearing those words hurt.
you were 14.
and was just discovering the world of misogyny that the motorsports world was filled with.
the competing driver just laughed and shrugged him off.
your dad had looked at you softly before bending down to look you in the eye, he had heard all of the taunts, seen all of the looks and knew how down you felt in your career, but he always encouraged you to push forward.
"you got this champ, ignore them. you are miles a better driver than he is, go wipe the floor with his ass."
and that you did.
you continued to wipe the floor with his ass that race, the smug look on your face was priceless as you saw him look at you angrily and storm off to cry to his daddy about how a girl just beat him in a race.
the plan was stay at home in monaco until someone dragged you out, but a late night snack sounded nice.
begrudgingly listening to your grumbling stomach, you decided to get up and head to the convenience store down the street of the lavish apartment complex you lived at in monaco.
it felt refreshing just to be out and about in monaco without a care in the world what strategies and what upgrades ferrari would bring the next weekend. it wasn't the hardest job in the world but you told yourself that you deserved this long-needed break.
you exited your apartment and locked it, making sure to bring all you needed, your phone and apartment keys and access keycard. your eyes travelled to the door in front of you with lots of folded but used boxes in front of them.
you wondered if someone had moved in but pushed it to the back of your mind as you heard your stomach grumble again.
okay maybe ramen doesn't sound too bad right now...
you walked over to the elevator and pressed the button, but before you could, the doors opened and you were surprised to see who you were faced with.
"oh, hi y/n," max breathed out, his eyes were puffy and face was red as if he was just finished crying, you were genuinely concerned as he exited out of the elevator, the words stuck in your throat. you didn't know what to say, so you blurted something out.
"what are you doing at my apartment complex?" it sounded stupid, and you quickly reprimanded yourself for it inside.
max locked eyes with you before letting out a laugh, despite the despair that was lingering in his eyes, "you do know that multiple people can live in an apartment, right? that's what they're supposed to do."
you internally smacked yourself on the head before letting out a small laugh as well, the elevator doors closed as it dinged to another floor. you looked away from max, trying to press the button for the elevator to come back but it was useless.
"were you heading out?" max asked as you didn't answer his last question, getting distracted from the elevator going to another floor. you finally looked back at him and nodded.
"sorry for the stupid question, i just didn't expect you to live here. on the same floor as me, no less," you spoke gently, as if not wanting to stir any unwanted drama off the grid in the off season, "but yeah, i was quite hungry so i wanted to go to the convenience store down the street to get a bite."
"it's not open 24 hours, i just left to go see myself," max shot you a small smile, "i mean, if you don't mind, i have some instant noodles if you want any?"
you wanted to decline, just go back to your apartment, sleep the hunger off but your idiotic self blurted out another stupid response.
"sure."
you were settled into his apartment and on his sofa, turns out it was the one right across from you. he just moved in. you also didn't know that max was a cat dad. having two cats lovingly named sassy and jimmy, named based from clubs located in monaco. you wanted to laugh at the stupidity of the names.
max was in his kitchen cooking up the instant noodles that he promised earlier. his cat, sassy— or was it jimmy? it was hard to tell them apart, they looked the same— was curled up in your lap, purring to its heart's content.
you pet the cat gently, liking the way she— or he?— purred. they sounded a little bit like an f1 car which made you giggle a little.
the sound of two bowls being set down in front of you on the coffee table broke you out of your little trance with the kitty, you looked up to see max's soft smile, sitting on the floor across from you.
"which one is this?" you ask as you point to the cat snoozing on your lap, max looked up from his bowl of instant noodles, before responding.
"that one is sassy," max spoke, grabbing a pair of chopsticks that he left on the table as he set the bowls down earlier, "come eat."
you nod as you sit on the floor, still across from him to take the chopsticks as well and start to dig into the instant noodles. it wasn't the best thing in the world but your stomach thanked you for it.
you both ate in a comfortable silence before jimmy approached you and started playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie, pawing at it and making you smile, "hi there, you like my hoodie?" you giggled as you pet the cat gently pawing and biting on the strings.
"excuse him, he's quite the playful one," max said in between bites of his noodles, you paid it no mind. the cute little bugger already stole your heart.
you continued eating in silence with him before thinking back to how you found him in the elevator, puffy eyed and red faced, you wanted to ask but was scared that it might come off as intrusive.
"if you don't mind me asking, are you okay?" you asked, going against your gut, assuming that he would probably do the same for you if he had found you in the elevator crying, "you looked like you had been crying earlier, is everything okay?"
max, who had his eyes locked onto you when you first asked the question now looked away to another part of the apartment, he took a pause before answering your question.
"i moved into this apartment because i broke up with my girlfriend and... it's just hard," max breathed out, as if the answer was tight in his chest, "we were in a relationship for four years, it's hard to let go of something like that, you know?"
you nod before finishing up your noodles, not really knowing what else to say. max also didn't add on top of what he said earlier.
it was only when you were getting up and go and excuse yourself back into his apartment when he said something, "thank you for the instant noodles max, i think it's time for me to head back to my apartment though."
"i- uh— do you want to watch a movie–? with me? or i mean if you're tired you can head back... i just need a little human company tonight if that's fine with you," max stuttered over his sentences and you couldn't help but find it cute for a moment.
you scolded yourself for a second before making another stupid decision for the night.
"okay."
testing the car felt great, no big problems whatsoever. lap times were more than satisfactory and it was time for bed. you were tired. being an introvert meant that there was limited social battery for people and it meant that it was time for bed.
"what are your thoughts on the car?" charles came up to you after you got out of yours, taking off your helmet and balaclava, you shot him a small smile.
"it feels better than last year, i think it's fine. i just have a small issue with the brakes, but so far it's alright. we'll just have to see in the first race," you spoke to him and he agreed with you about the brakes. they were kind of slow to respond to the touch, you had to tell your mechanics about that.
you off season had spent mostly with your friends and family. the occasional dinner at either your apartment or max's but that was it. you haven't contacted the other drivers, and they didn't either.
you had speculated that maybe it was because you were a woman and they were scared of women— that was a joke.
this round of testing was done in barcelona, catalunya wasn't one of your favorite tracks but you managed. you were excited to try out the car in abu dhabi though, one of your best tracks. scoring good lap times even when you were a rookie.
as you retired the car for the night, you took off your racing gear, gloves, suit and all. you wore a simple sweater and some shorts to get back to the hotel, but what you didn't expect was max to come up to you and talk.
"hey," he waved you over as you were about to leave the track, he was seen in some red bull gear.
of course he was.
"hey max," you waved at him, you didn't know whether to feel comfortable in his presence or awkward, considering you did spend a bit of time with him in the off season.
"how was your car? i saw you flying with charles earlier," max chuckled, you shrugged with a smile on your lips, the car did feel great. he wasn't lying when he said you were flying with charles.
"yeah, great speed and control for this year," you told him, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "how was your car? you got your problems from last year fixed?" you asked him, you had heard him complain about his "wagon" a few times when you guys were spending time with eachother in his apartment.
"unfortunately no, i told them that we're still having the same problems as last year. i guess it's better but it's still not 100%," max had told you before gesturing to the exit, "you wanna walk with me to the hotel?"
you nod and just listening to him talk the entire time you guys were walking to the hotel. you didn't feel like talking and he was the yapper in the dynamic so you let him talk your ear off, you didn't mind though.
"—and imagine! sassy was there, behind the door. staring at me like i did something wrong but she was the one that locked themselves inside of the room. i had a punch a hole in the door to get them. it was ridiculous," max shook his head as you guys entered the hotel lobby.
you just laughed and made your way to the elevators, thinking back to that time when you had found him in your apartment building, puffy eyed. i guess that was the start of the healing in your relationship, no longer angry at him but still feeling a little bitter about your could've been maiden win.
"your cats are adorable, i would forgive them," you had spoken softly to max while pressing the button in order to go to the floor you needed, max rolled his eyes.
"they're lucky i love them," max had scoffed sarcastically, "well, what about you? you don't really talk much about your personal life..."
"there's not much to talk about," you shrug and shove your hands in you pockets, your family dynamic was complicated. people who knew you on a deep personal level knew that and you didn't know whether you were ready to spill that particular can of worms to max just yet.
"my family life is not great, but i have friends to help. that's all i can say for now," you glance at max who had his eyes on you, but he nodded. he knew a thing or two about an unstable relationship with family.
"which floor are you staying at?" you ask him as the elevator dinged, trying to change the subject but not being subtle about it, signaling that it was at the current floor you guys were at, ready to pick you guys up and deliver you to whatever floor you desired.
"the twelfth, you?" max had asked as he stepped into the elevator as soon as its doors opened, you followed suit.
"i am too, i guess the drivers are all put in the same floor for ease," you shrug but max shook his head, objecting your statement.
"usually, it's the teams that decide which floors to put the drivers. it's based off of room availability. coincidentally, we just stay at the same floor," max had corrected you, you didn't say anything back to that. social battery more than dead.
you had thought it would be funny if you guys were placed right across from eachother just like at home. the elevator ride was filled in comfortable silence, you appreciated that it never felt awkward being silent for a period of time with max.
as the elevator dinged once again, you and max exited.
"well, i'm off to bed, goodnight max," you wave him off as he went right and you went left, "i hope you rest well, we have a flight to catch tomorrow."
you had walked away and he had too, but you heard something that made you turn around.
"you wanna fly with me?" max had almost blurted out, now you fully turned to look at him, you guys were quite far from eachother.
"what..?"
"i have a private jet, do you want to fly with me?"
"max, what the hell? why do you have a private jet?"
"just answer the question."
"i'll double check with my manager and give you an answer later," you shook your head, him having a private jet was definitely not something out of his character, but you didn't know. he never brought it up on the late nights you would spend with him.
"alright, goodnight y/n," max had a small smile toying on his lips, he was waving before you rolled your eyes playfully and waved back, turning back around to rest up.
he's insane.
there you were the next day, on a flight straight to abu dhabi sat with max verstappen. no one had asked for a ride with him, so it was just the two of you on the plane with flight crew.
you didn't know whether to thank the gods or to curse them out for ferrari not having booked a flight for you yet last night.
you were chatting with him, about and anything except for your cars or the race upcoming in abu dhabi. you didn't want to think about that right now, you had told him at the start that you were feeling anxious about it and he respected your wishes and didn't talk about it.
as you landed in abu dhabi, ferrari staff were awaiting your arrival. max was hot in pursuit behind you, you figured it would've been nice to talk and say thank you for the flight but one of the ferrari staff present, your pr manager jessica had come up to you to interrupt your train of thought.
"so, y/n. we have some media coverage to do today, you have a few things to say and address," jessica had explained but you looked up at her confused, what did she mean by 'address'?
max was right behind you and gave you a teasing look that said, 'being bombarded with work already?'
you wanted to roll your eyes and laugh.
when did your relationship get that casual?
"can i at least thank max for the flight before you throw me into media duties?" you rubbed your temples as jessica handed you over an ipad filled with things you needed to answer and address.
jessica lets you go with her hands up held in the air, like she was a guilty criminal.
you turn and look at max who was now next to you, "thank you for the flight max, it was nice chatting with you," you told him before he gave you a small smile.
"no problem, call me if you need another flight. i need a new jet buddy anyway, last one told me to fuck off and stole my apartment," he waved you off before walking away, you really wanted to laugh now. he was so silly.
you finally looked over to the ipad before gasping.
address relationship rumors with max verstappen.
what the fuck was happening?
you were on the press conference line up for today, and of course pr responses rolled off your tongue as if you gave a fuck.
you just wanted to drive, why were press conferences so necessary for you to drive?
"last question for l/n before we end the press conference," one of the journalists spoke up as you nodded, mic up on your mouth, ready to give whatever bullshit they wanted to hear, "what is your current status with max verstappen?"
you wanted to vomit.
"sorry, what do you mean by that? can you clarify?"
"rumors are spreading around that you were spotted boarding his private jet, do you have a comment?"
"well, all i can say is that if i was a man, this news wouldn't be happening. i'm just friends with verstappen, nothing more, nothing less. please refrain from asking me ridiculous questions like these, i just want to drive," you had shot back, thinking that the question was ridiculous, all because you were on the same flight as him?
the press conference wrapped him and charles nudged you, a teasing look on his face.
"'i just wanna drive', ey?" charles laughed and you smiled at his teasing look, knowing that it was all in good fun, "nice job at shooting down the journalists. they have no boundaries sometimes."
"thank you, just because i'm a woman," you joked back and charles laughed, "let's make this testing worth it because i want to beat his ass now."
the abu dhabi grand prix weekend was in full swing, the paddock being filled with people here to watch the race or staff from respective teams trying to wrangle their drivers or trying to fetch important people crucial for the race.
fireproofs were on and a ferrari cap was sat atop of your head, waiting for the go ahead of the engineers for you to sit in your car and finally drive.
quali day today, and you were starving for a fight.
"you look so serious, amour," a soft voice spoke up as you tore your gaze away from your car, looking up at the owner of the voice. it was alexandra, charles' girlfriend.
"oh hey, alex," you laughed, stood up and greeted her, "how are you doing? i haven't been seeing you around the paddock," alex hugged you and smiled at you, she was always nice to you, much like her boyfriend.
"yeah, i've been busy with dealing with things at home, how are you? you seem quite eager for today's quali," alex had asked as you laughed, apologizing for your seriousness today.
"i was quite angry at the journalist the other day for bringing up me and verstappen's relationship status. i just want to take pole today. don't mess with an angry woman, right?"
alex would only laugh at your statement, knowing full well that you were right.
"AND WITH THAT L/N MAKES A STATEMENT TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE DOUBTED HER IN HER ROOKIE YEAR, SHE TAKES POLEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
"let's fucking go anthony!" you screamed into the radio as he informs you that you start first place in tomorrow's race.
"you deserve this, you worked so hard to get up to this point. i'm very proud of you kid," anthony spoke to you through the radio before you pulled into the pits, your side of the garage was awaiting you with full smiles on their faces.
and this is why i race.
you exit the car and you're immediately swarmed with hugs and cheers.
"l/n takes pole, l/n takes pole, l/n takes pole!" were the cheers of your engineers as they lifted you on their shoulders and screamed, the screams in the crowd mixed with the adrenaline of the pole made you smile the widest.
"I TAKE POLE THIS WEEKEND, LET'S FUCKING GO!" you yell on the top of your lungs, your engineers were so happy. everyone was happy.
you were rewriting the history of motorsport by force, whether they liked it or not.
you were one of the first few women to enter f1 and the first woman to take pole ever.
this was your break. this was what you deserved– no, this was what you worked hard for. all those years of people doubting you, telling you that you had no place in the sport, that you didn't know how to drive, that you didn't deserve to drive all because you were a woman. to prove all of your doubters wrong. to tell the world that, hey. i'm here, i'm here to prove every single person wrong.
and as if a weight was lifted off your chest, tears freeflowed onto your cheeks.
i fucking took pole today and i'm gonna win again, and again, and again.
you exhale deeply, it was refreshing to not see any cars in front of you for the first time ever. starting front row, on pole no less was exhilarating.
you weren't going to let this go to waste. you were going to take this opportunity by the balls and turn into your first win.
you felt it in your bones.
"AND FOR THE FIRST TIME THIS SEASON, IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO!"
————————————————————
hi there, an anon had recently informed me that y/n being the first female driver in formula history is actually not accurate in real life, so i edited the parts for off the grid from this point backwards to fix any mistakes in my writing. so sorry for not doing my due diligence and actually researching the history of women being in this sport. looking forward to do better in the future.
- aria 🤍
#leclarifies fics#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x yn#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen angst#max verstappen fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#max x reader#verstappen x reader
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Little thank-you post!
I have over 100 followers now! Don't really know why any of you are here, I am not funny nor am I interesting, nor do I actually post anything cool lol. But regardless, I'm really grateful for you guys and for your support! (As well as all the anons that reach out to me! Thank you to you all, as well! I enjoy when people actually talk to me, nobody wants to feel like they're rambling into a void lol)
As a sort of mediocre, I'm sorry thank-you, I want to outline what I've got in store for you all next:
Gonna release the BurningCheese playlist soon, it's over 30 songs long now lol. I want you all to jam with me. Rock out to the BurningCheese vibe. (And send me more song recommendations if you want, a lot of what I have now is thanks to homies making suggestions)
PART 2 OF "Mine Forever More" IS COMING VERY SOON! Now that I've played through episode 6 (and had a massive meltdown because BURNINGCHEESE IS CANON OMG /jk), I know what I want to do for the story now. Expect it to be posted within the next day or two! (And also look forward to more short stories, I have a lot planned)
Remember those BurningCheese fankids I've mentioned more than once before? Get excited, you're gonna see and hear about them again soon 👀👀👀
I've gotten asks about my "Reformed Beasts AU" that I've been tinkering with. I promise there will be a masterpost on the subject in the future. I kind of want to iron out my thoughts on the Beasts in general first, and how I headcanon their corruptions (like that "a thought about Burning Spice" post I made). Will probably write about Shadow Milk next, or maybe Silent Salt (I've made up a whole ass character for this guy that I've gotten attached to already lol)
I know I have a bunch of asks in my inbox I still need to answer. I'm sorry for the delay, I promise I will get to you all. I inhabit the real world and have real-world responsibilities like everyone else, unfortunately haha
Gonna remind you all again that my AO3 username is sleeping_mouse_1011, because people have asked me that, too. Do be careful, a lot of my works are NSFW to some degree (that's where I indulge in Yandere Spice lol). I encourage minors to stay here and enjoy my SFW stories instead.
Got a bunch of meme edits to make now, hope those make you laugh. I gotta cope with having no artistic talent somehow
I have thoughts and headcanons I'd love to share about other characters and ships besides Burning Simp and Pretty Cheese Lady lol. I'm actually NOT entirely insane, I am capable of rational discussion about things other than BurningCheese, I swear
Thanks again to everyone who takes the time to rifle through my nonsense posts and read my stories. It really means a lot to me that my works bring people joy. I know I'm still just some nobody on here, but even so. I hope I somehow manage to put a smile on your face. Even if it's more at my own expense than anything else.
That's all from me for now. Merchant out. Later, haters
#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#burningcheese#goldenspice#burning spice cookie#golden cheese cookie#shadow milk cookie#silent salt cookie#merchant shorts
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nightmare
dark!frank x reader: Frank is sorry he has to do this to you, he really is. At least, that’s what he tells himself…and you.
content warnings: kidnapping. this blog is 18+ only, minors do not interact
hi everyone. if you think you've seen this story before, you just might've. this is a reupload. i deleted my account and all my fics. i was becoming really overwhelmed by all my WIPs and had a lot of unfinished stories and projects on hiatus. i'm going to be slowly reuploading my finished stories, and will only be uploading multichapter fics if i have them completed in advance. thank you for reading. 🖤 -rina
🌃
It’s dark when you wake up, so dark that you question whether you have truly opened your eyes. You are not awake yet, surely not. You are merely in a dream. A pleasant dream, a quiet dream. A dream where only you can go, in a place where no one else can follow.
Not even him.
You entertain the delusion for a while, but ultimately you know it’s hopeless. The arms wrapped around your torso—tightening and loosening over and over again, as if he wants to make sure you are real, too—tether you to the present moment.
The darkness of the room no longer serves as a warm blanket. It is as if you are trapped underwater, stuck in a sinkhole, floating aimlessly throughout the cosmos. Or trapped in a basement.
You are fully conscious, alright.
If only you were alone.
In the moments after you wake, you try to take deep breaths. But as the weight on your chest builds—as you are increasingly aware of just how completely your captor is surrounding you, with your back flush up against his chest—your breathing becomes shallow, rapid. So rapid that he notices.
He notices everything.
He also seems to notice that you are crying. His grip on you tightens as he shushes you, lightly rocking you back and forth.
You feel pathetic.
“Hey. Breathe. Breathe with me, alright?”
Time passes. You’re not sure how long. But eventually, the pain in your chest dissipates. He leans over you so that he is propped up on his elbow, still spooning you but he’s…hovering.
He’s always hovering.
“Nightmare?”
You can just barely see the outline of his features. Since he left yesterday afternoon, it looks like he has acquired some new scrapes, cuts, and bruises. He always does. It disturbs you, so much so that you neglect to ask how he got them. Even with his seemingly constant stream of injuries, maybe you would have thought Frank was handsome, in some other life. You tell yourself that he’s a boxer, or a professional fighter or trainer or something.
Somehow, something in you knows better.
You can tell he wants you to say something. Terrified to disappoint—as you have before, and it certainly did not end well for you—you nod, peering up at him.
“Something like that,“ you mumble.
He reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your face. His fingertips run along your temple, your cheek, your jawline. He nods, leaning his head to the side, as if admiring you. Maybe he is.
“I get them, too, you know.”
You’re unsure of what to say. You clear your throat, letting out an awkward and rather delayed “I’m sorry.”
He is silent for a few seconds. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all. You start to develop a pit in your stomach, but then he lies back down again, pulling you close against his chest. You can feel his chin pressed against the top of your head.
“I’m sorry, too,” he says, sighing. “For everything.”
You almost believe him.
Somehow, something in you knows better.
#dark!frank castle#dark!frank castle x reader#yandere frank castle#yandere frank castle x reader#frank castle x reader#dark!marvel#dark marvel#yandere marvel
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Hi! So what ARE your Spamton headcanons? How do you like to portray him?
Mighty kind of you to ask! Apart from much of these being made with the help of @val-of-the-north, I've been intending to draw his known eras in life, and this is the perfect opportunity to detail each:
Addi Spamton:
He's just some guy. A young adult with some semblance of direction in life, but neither the know-how nor the skill to get there. Despite this, he still talks himself up with confidence you wouldn't otherwise expect from him.
If I ever have any "cutesy blushy uwu" interactions, I dump them all here, where I think he's young and inexperienced enough for it to make the most sense.
He once tried to sell home insurance to a hotel guest.
All of his buddies mostly pity him for his abysmal luck (or whatever else might be holding him back), rather than simply looking down on him, even if they are embarrassed to be seen with him.
Just as prone to bullshitting (and getting pissed off when he's called out on it) as his future selves.
I don't consistently include his hairline in this stage, I mostly just draw it for my own convenience.
Big Shot Spamton:
A Spamton who knows success to not only afford basic cost of living, but to have his name and face on every sign, screen, and soda in Cyber World (and possibly beyond). Naturally, because of his aforementioned ambition, and unlike his former peers, he doesn't question if he deserves any of it, having an obnoxious, arrogant "I told you so" attitude.
His idea of gifts to his old Addison buddies is his own merchandise (once couldn't attend one of their birthdays, and instead sent them a giant cungadero-shaped cake decorated with neon signs, sparklers, and a picture of him leaning out the window).
Ain't no way he's not spending bank on hookers and cocaine.
If he has a softer side at this point in his life, rarely anyone would see it.
Present Spamton:
A 40-something Spamton who has long since abandoned much of his morals and inhibitions, even somewhat before his downfall.
Down with murder: this doesn't necessarily mean that I just see him as a mindless killer. Far from it, in fact. His role in Snowgrave is to take advantage of it in a calculated manner once he sees what's going on.
He is capable of kindness (or as close as he can possibly get to it), but it's more him reciprocating someone else's kindness. Even if he does do this unprompted, he probably has to relate to them, or see himself in them on some level.
This version of him is where I am most prone to claiming other absurd, wacky things of him (not that his BShot self is exempt from this).
While I tend to see him at this point as mostly self-serving, conniving, and planning all manner of revenge/murder, I don't think he's entirely beyond redemption and saving, but it would probably take another whole route of character development for him to get anywhere close.
#deltarune#deltarune headcanon#spamton#spamton g spamton#addison spamton#big shot spamton#haz says a thing#haz answers things#my drawings#sorry if they look kinda shit-like#also for the major delay in response#would've LIKED to have had this done with more time before father's day#and then made a sequel for how i see him as a parent or something#but no time for that now#finals are about to kick my ass#anyways thank you for asking#generally it's preferable to show him in action than just describing it#but i guess this is a good place to work from
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Hello! So, I hope this request is okay to ask, if not, I'm so sorry!!! (Especially as it is a triggering topic) --- TW ‼️‼️ healing from SA
I was wondering about a fic with george where the reader (gender neutral but afab anatomy) has maybe been put through something in the past (left ambiguous), and essentially is just ready to try more intimate stuff with george, and is able to just fully enjoy themself with him? Like a healing sort of thing?
I know this request is kinda different. I've seen your other posts about sensitive topics and thought they were great, and I checked to see what you are/aren't okay with (I hope I didn't get it wrong, if I did, I'm very sorry!), so I thought I'd send this in. I just thought it'd be a healing read! BUT, I understand that it's still sensitive, so totally no worries if that's the case!
Also, I hope this isn't too specific???? I apologise if it is!!!!
I hope that you're having a lovely day ^^
((Sorry it took so long! It’s been finals season, and since it’s such a heavy topic I wanted to be in a good headspace to work on it. Ya know?))
As someone who suffers from self harming ((I have an issue where I just scratch myself and my arms get scratched like crazy. They are vertical, so no one thinks they are ‘real’ self harming scars 🙄)) so writing George on a topic like this would be very comforting to me as well. Thank you for being so brave in asking 🫂 I’m so proud of you for speaking! This will be lovely
Kissable
George Weasley X AFAB reader
Warnings: 18+, heavy talks about Self Harm and Suicidal Ideations, gentle sex, lots of fluff and kisses, body positivity, disabilities, Umbridge, Fred gets to live because we need to lighten this heavy topic, lots of gentleness, wizarding war typical angst, deafness, body dysmphroia, it’s gonna be heavy and descriptive but also there is plenty of comfort to balance. Not sugar coating comfort. Sugaring coating can be so annoying. Trust me. I know
Life sure was different, when the war finally ended. The stress of it all was off everyone’s shoulders. The world was finally able to move forward. Death wasn’t at the doorstep. Life was suppose to be happier, but you still felt like it wasn’t. That you were holding yourself back. That even the battle of Hogwarts didn’t shake you back to reality. You felt bad, and George noticed.
“S’matter, jellybean?” He asked you, as he leaned himself against the railing. Having seen you space out again. Happened alot, but he noticed it more than ever now. As if he wanted to leave you to be stressed after all. This should be a happy time, but somehow it wasn’t.
“Just….Thinking.” You muttered, as you played with the end of your sleeves. You could hear him sigh, a deep one, as he watched. As if he knew something. Something you wish he didn’t. Seemed such a worry was made a reality, when you were both suddenly apparated into his office. A place for privacy, after all.
He’s been suspicious, but a constant wizarding war tends to take your mind off things. Along with busy with a school year, and starting up a business. Made any doubts get overrun with work, and stress, get covered. Not today, though. Not today.
“Love, we need to have a talk. A serious one, please.” That made your heart drop, as he would motion you to join him on the couch. You felt so terrified, as you were forced to sit next to him on it. Now having your hands held by his.
“You know I love you, and I want to take care of you. I love you so very much. We’ve been through so much together. You’ve been there for me, and I want to be there for you. You know that, right?” He asked, as you gave a sheepish nod. Wondering where this was going, but deep down knew he figured it out. He’s had it figured out for a while.
He’s not stupid, after all. You could only hide something like this for so long. Why you never turned on the light, how you used Umbridge as an excuse for anything that was accidentally seen. How you always wore long sleeves, even when going to bed. If you could hide your body, you did. But now? George could understand that pain, and he wasn’t having you suffer in silence anymore.
“Love, it’s ok. You know that, right? I’m not here to judge, or make fun of ya. Gonna be the last person to do that. I mean, look at me. Look at Billy boy. We know a thing or two about getting roughed up.” He tried to not directly say what he wanted to say, in a means to let you be the one to say it. To let YOU be in charge of it.
After the war, he just wasn’t the same. When Fred went in that coma, oh he was in utter hell. He was already recovering from his ear. Now he had to spend every day, wondering if his twin would live or die. How Umbridge caught wind of such a thing, and tried to pull something. Like trying to say Bill was qualified under the Werewolf laws. Oh life was hell, and he had to project somehow. Not the same as you, but to say there wasn’t a taste is an understatement.
“George, I really don’t want to talk about this-“ You tried to weasel out, but his grip on your hands only tightened. The sadness in his eyes left you frozen in place. He wanted to take care of you, and make sure you knew you were safe with him. Such a complicated mess it all was. Just made you feel worse, if anything.
“Love….Let me see you. Please. Let me see all of you. You see me, can I see you?” He tried, and your tears just welled up more. You couldn’t understand why he was doing this. Why he cared. Your brain just didn’t accept that people can love you. It’s hard to grasp.
“This is different-“ You tried. “Why is it different?” He rebutted. “It just is. It’s different when I do it-“ How the brain was complex, and a pain in the ass to have. Luckily, George knew a thing or two about them. You learn alot when running a joke shop. Kids come to you with so many problems. You learn things you don’t want to.
“I don’t want to force you, but I can’t have you suffer like this anymore. I’m not doing this to hurt you, Jellybean. You were there when I lost my ear. When I thought I was going to lose Fred. Umbridge, everything. Let me be there for you-“ He begged, as he forced your hand onto the side of his head.
Your palm would feel over the scars from the Potion Master Made Spell. How deep they were, and never seemed to properly heal. How familiar the texture was. The smoothness of cut flesh, as he no longer could hear. The lines that cut into his hair, cheek, and even face. It was nothing like what Bill suffered, but it hurt. Hurt no longer being identical.
With a shakey breath, you gave in. Ready to accept him screaming at you in disgust. To say all the mean things people have said to you before. Attention seeker, that you need to make them deeper already, that you look like a cutting board. Every insult, every mean remark. All of it. You accepted your fate, as you rolled up your sleeves.
The air was silent, but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was calm. Like the air was clear. For once, the weight was gone. You couldn’t understand why there was such a feeling of peace. Why wasn’t he looking at you with disgust? With hate? Why was he smiling?
“Hm, kinda remind me of Charlie. He’s got ink like crazy, same for Bill. You’ve seen them. Bills got these protection ruins, and Charlie has as many dragons as possible. You would look good with sleeves.” He smiled, as he gently held your wrist. Truly looking at them, and not flinching at all. He was looking at you. And wanting to make you feel like there was a chance you didn’t have to hide. That you were the center of it all. Not the scars. Not even asking why you had them. He didn’t need to know. He just wanted to know if you knew he could keep you safe.
The fact he started to kiss them was what had you sob. He was kissing something you hated so much. He was accepting it as a part of you. This was just what was part of your life. Your struggles. Your fears. Your hate. He was accepting that, because he loved you. You were what he cared about. Not what people thought.
It was such a tender moment, as you were able to let yourself cry. Let yourself have that good, needed, cry. All the while George took care of you. Kissing your scars, and holding you close. Just wanting you to know you were safe with him. Not rushing you. You never rushed him when he bursted into tears, no matter how random it was. So, you deserved that attention all the same.
“George…You know how I said I wanted us to wait until we were married?” You asked him, as you wiped your eyes. He would brush them aside, as well, as he nodded to you. Keeping his eyes glued with yours, as he tried to show you his full attention.
“It was kinda a lie. I didn’t want you to see me….But I think I’m ready now. I think you can see me now.” You consented, as he smiled. Clearly proud of such a big step. His pride made you want to cry more. There was no shame, or doubt, in those big brown eyes. He didn’t see you as any less, as before the topic was broached. It was as if you simply dyed your hair. It’s still you, under it all.
“I’ve been waiting for this, and I was willing to wait for never even.” He chuckled, as he kissed your cheek. Another reminder he was there for you. Not for some end goal. There was no end goal, with love. There was a continue. A continue for as long as the hearts wanted.
With a gentle kiss to your lips, the two of you were side alonged back into your shared flat. Fred would be able to handle the shop just fine, after all. It’s near closing anyway. With how close those two were, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew where George went. Even as far as why.
“I’ve always wanted to see you. So badly.” He sighed, as he kissed you again. Gentle, and sweet. Not this heated passion in the books or movies. Just tender, and making sure you were taken care of. In every sense of the word. This was love, not sex.
Just gentle kisses, shared between you two, as he helps remove your clothes. Allowing more and more of you to be seen on the surface. Every cut, bruise, stretch mark, imperfection, whatever you had. He was able to finally see it all, and wouldn’t stop kissing each little dot on your skin.
It was so scary. Scary to allow him. He was so proud of you to allow him. To allow him to witness you whole. He was so damn proud. Couldn’t stop his kisses all over your skin. Along with a few little playful ones, like right on your nose. Just wanting to make you smile. Know that you were safe. No matter how vulnerable you were. You allowed him to feel safe, when he lost so much. It’s a crime to not return the favor.
Open mouth kisses would trail over your body, as he helped you lay down on the bed. Slow, sweet, and savoring it. Understanding just how important it all was. No need to rush. No need to treat it as a one and done. This a moment to share, between two people who loved each other. So very very very much.
“You really are beautiful. I know I know. I can say it all I want, but I mean it-!” He whined at the end, making you smile. Ever playful, no matter the mood. Was very soothing. Made any heavy topic easier to deal with. He just made life easier, and his smile could sooth any coals under your feet.
There was one more little kiss to your nose, before he finally allowed himself to strip. His own body full of scars from so many things. War, failed experiments, Umbridge, death eaters, blood purest’s, friends turned enemies, the list goes on. Those scars felt different to you. He didn’t ask for them, yet wasn’t ashamed of them either. The mind can truly be so warped, but George was always one to be fascinated by the world. Willing to dive into that hellscape you call a brain, because you are in there after all.
“You are so beautiful.” He just kept on saying, before his naked body was pressed against yours. Playful little kisses were pressed all over your face, as your skin felt his. Felt his scars on yours, yours were felt on his. Just pure skin contact, as he was holding you close. Loving every little part of you. If it was you, he loved it. Scars and all.
“I’m ready when you are. And if ready is never, eh. Who gives a shit?” He would place another kiss to your nose, before your hands were around his neck. You were trying to mentally psych yourself up, and he was more than happy to wait. Happy to just admire you. Big ole Brown eyes, and a freckled smile.
“Yeah. I’m ready.” You nodded, as he gave you another kiss. One arm was used to prop himself up, as the other found your slit. Just being very gentle, and stroking it. Not yet intruding, but just taking it nice and slow. He was no virgin, after all. But you were, and he was going to treat you right.
Slow, steady, and calculated. A man who was that of an inventor. He knew how to move his fingers. Gentle over your slit, almost ghosting it even. Made you crave more, in such a simple gesture. Those rough fingers on such a sensitive part of your body. All exposed to him.
A kiss to your neck was given, as he finally slipped them in. Had you shiver, but he kept planting kisses on you. Easing you into such a feeling you were growing costumed to. How you always loved his big and rough hands. Always brought you comfort. Now they were bringing you pleasure.
“You already feel so wonderful. Bloody amazing.” He whispered, as he would kiss along your jaw. Just two fingers pushing in and out of you. His thumb even working at your clit, and it had you whimper a bit. Such new stimuli, but he was keeping it slow and gentle. Easing you into it.
“Don’t be shy. I can only hear so much, have mercy on me.” He teases, as it helped bring you back to earth. That this isn’t just sex. You were making love with someone you love. Made you smile, as he kissed the corner of your mouth. Drinking in the soft little breaths you left for him, before he snuck a third finger in.
“Oh you are going to feel so bloody good. I just know it. I can hardly wait any longer.” He moaned for you, as he was picking up his speed. That earned him more sounds from you, as your walls were coating his fingers. Showing you were enjoying yourself, when your voice was lost.
“Are you ready, or was this enough for one day?” More reassurance. That even now, when he’s so close to getting his turn at pleasure, he wanted you to know it didn’t matter. You matter. Almost made you cry.
“I’m ready, Georgie. I mean it. For once, I’m ready.” You would cup his face, and admired him. Those warm eyes, that imperfect unsymmetrical face. Those freckles, those scars, and that beautiful toothy smile. That’s your man, and he was all yours. Never thought you deserved such a wonderful man in your life. In this moment though? You finally accepted it. Even if it was temporary, you were able to fight your brain long enough to say you deserved this man. Seemed George could even see it in your eyes, as he pulled you into a deep kiss.
The tip of his cock felt so hot. As if he was just twitching in need. Had you feel so beautiful. Beautiful to know he was that excited to be with you. Hard to fake a feeling like that, after all. That feeling of a throbbing cock. Just hungry to finally feel you. Feeling you, he did. Finally slipping inside, as you pulled him closer. Moaning into his mouth, as the gesture is returned.
You swore he might be feeling more pleasure from it than yourself. There was a morbid comfort in that. Knowing your body could do such a thing. Ever after so much, it could still do good. Made your body relax, and had you enjoy the ride all the better.
The feeling of his hips meeting yours, and how he rolled them. Feeling those hip bones against your soft flesh. It just itched a scratch you didn’t know you had. Feeling this slender man above you, with his arms tense. Those muscles showing themselves off to you. Freckled and scared. So beautiful to you.
The moans he gave you had you drunk. They sounded so good. You swore you could get off from them alone. The feeling of him moaning into your mouth, as he kept rolling his hips into yours. Fingers tangled together, as you both just enjoyed each other. No need for words. Just embracing what your bodies wanted. The feeling of connection, and love.
It was like a beautiful dream. Nothing else mattered, in that moment. Just the two of you. Making love, and enjoying each other’s company. To feel the air grow heated, and sweat build between you both. How those easy rolls grew in speed, and had you both gasping each other’s names. Fingers holding on tighter to each other, as if afraid to melt into nothing.
“You feel so good-“ He spoke so breathlessly, as he would keep thrusting into you. All the while you moan openly for him. Your hands were trapped under his own, and you would give him squeezes of delight into those callused fingers. Allowing yourself to be louder. A mixture of allowing yourself to enjoy it, and a need to make sure he could hear how much you were indeed enjoying it. It’s the least you can do. Small acts go a long way, and you witnessed such first hand tonight.
“I don’t think I’m going to last much longer-“ He admits, sounding so embarrassed. It was cute. He was always so cute. Had you smile, and he smiled back. Your smile seemed to comfort his blushing cheeks, as you two returned another kiss. A kiss, as his hips begun to thrust in an uneven pattern. Had you whimper for him, as he kept true to his word. He didn’t last any longer, and he was soon moaning your name into your mouth. Tangling it in your tongue, and his.
The heat inside felt so satisfying. To let yourself ride a high, and have it be with him. How your legs couldn’t stop themselves, and wrapped around him. Needing to have him as close as your bodies could allow it. As if needing to become one. It was truly like being a fire work. A burst of pleasure, and sounds. It all felt so good, and it truly did feel like it filled a void in your heart that you didn’t know you had.
Coming down from the high was treated slowly. The both of you savoring it. With him holding you, as he stayed where he was. His head snuggled into your neck, as you played with his hair. Your turn in giving him the gentle comfort. Allowing him to use his working ear to enjoy your breathing, and heart. No need to worry about words. Just gentle affection. Embracing each other, and enjoying a moment of existing.
“Worth the wait-?” You asked, as you two were finally in a more clear headspace. He took a moment to think, as he pulled out you. Had you whine, as you liked the feeling. That made him chuckle, as he was soon pulling a blanket over you both.
“Yes. Very much worth the wait.” He would reassure you, as he was now your big spoon. Making sure you felt safe, in yet another vulnerable moment. His legs tangled with yours, as he wrapped his arms around you. Giving you a hug, as he pressed his face in your neck. Enjoying your scent.
Tears slipped down your cheeks, but not out of sadness anymore. But pure relief. You will still have your dark days, but you had a bundle of sunshine to stay there. Stay, and wait, for when you could speak again. He wouldn’t leave you behind when things got rough. He was making sure of that. Not even processing how much this simple act of spoon was bringing such joy. He existed, and it made you existing easier.
“Love you, Georgie.” You said, as you stole a hand to kiss. His own lips returned the gesture, as they were right on your cheek. “Love you more, Jellybean.” He yawned.
That comfort of another body, it was just what you needed. For once, in a long time, you weren’t scared to fall asleep. You were happy to sleep. To get rest, even excited to wake up again. Because you knew one thing, and one thing that changed everything.
He would be there when you woke up, and that was what mattered. He would be there, every time you woke up, and sometimes that’s all it takes to make you wake up.
Your sunshine, always there when the rain clouds came. Always there, and will never leave.
#harry potter#harry potter magic awakened#hpma#magic awakened#George Weasley#george weasley x reader#Fred Weasley lives#Fred lives#tw self destruction#tw self harn#tw scuicidal thoughts#George Weasley smut#george weasley x fem#x reader#x afab reader#harry potter fanfiction#hp fanfic#hp#requested#requests#sorry for the delay#thanks anon!#i hope you like it#and have better days#sending you hugs#hug#sending you positive vibes#anon ask#sensitive subjects#relatable
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So I know celebrity rockstar Eddie with Just-Some-Guy Steve is popular, but what about the opposite?
Steve, who is a professional Basketball player, got scouted from where he played for his college team. The fan fave, the darling of the locals, and one of the best players on the team. Models for sportswear brands, has had interviews and talks at schools and the media loves him. He's handsome, and nice, and has publicly come out.
And then there's Eddie. His boyfriend since college. Just some guy who runs a music store. Started just as a minimum wage worker and then slowly worked his way up to running a small business himself. Sells guitars and drums and other instruments. Vinyl and cds and music merch. Hosts guitar lessons. Is happy playing music because he loves it, not for the fame and money.
Eddie goes to all his games (or as many as he can) and while he's not a sports guy and never will be he loves watching Steve play. Is only about 80% sure of the rules at best and that's good enough for Steve. And Steve who's not a metal fan, and will never be into DnD but will spend his free evenings helping Eddie plan a campaign or listening to this song Eddie's been trying to learn on the guitar.
Idk I just think it's fun to explore the opposite! Eddie getting excited any time he sees people wearing Steve's merch in public and people keep mistaking him for a hardcore fan because no one knows who he is and honestly he's fine with that. He is a big fan of Steve
he's a big fan of steve' MOMO THAT LAST LINE TOOK ME OUT!!!! OHH!!!!
Okay so as always i am IN LOVE with your ideas and where you take them and explore with the space.
Please can I have Eddie who doesn't completely GET sports but he DOES get collecting so he has one of those card books and collects basket ball trading cards. He has a full page of 'Steves' that he every proud of because he's drawn on some of them, giving him different outfits/hair/facial hair/speech bubbles, some include dragon hatcher steve, android steve, malibu barbie steve and pronstache steve (that one wasn't even drawn on, Steve was just trying something new and it got immortailised in a trading card much to Eddie's delight. His personal favourite is a Steve mid spin of the ball on his fingertip, the image of concentration and Eddie has yet to see a photo that highlights the muscle and bite-ability of Steve's arms quite as well as that one.
When Eddie and Steve are out for dinner and Eddie sees a little kid wearing a shirt with Steve's name on it he's quick to point it out to the delight of his boyfriend, both of them trying to figure out a way to subtly let the kid know that 'Harrington' is here.
Eddie who turns up to games with the kids and a foam finger because 'Steve come on its hilarious' but in reality he just loves obnoxiously supporting him. Steve kisses his finger tips and waves to Eddie before running to join the team in the changing rooms. Eddie who catches it and stuffs it in his pocket in the most dramatic way possible. Steve who laughs every time because he wouldn't have it any other way.
#MOMO MOMO‼️#MOMO!!!!#HELLO HOW ARE YOY?!?#YOU BRAIN IS HUGE AND BEAUTIFUL AND SO FULL IF IDEAS I AM SO ENVIOUS#I AM LUCKY TO BE A RECIPENT!!!#I JUST!!!#AAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!#and I am so so sorry about the delay I’ve been in a Way lately (the last 4 months)#BUT THIS ID THR KIND OF THING THAT IS LIKE SUNSHINE TO ME#Steddie fixing my Big Sad thank you#mwah air smooch for you if you wish#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#momo#momotonescreaming#ask
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Hi! I've never done this before but I'm new to comics (started with WFA and Zatanna and the Ripper) and I've basically got most of my information from posts on tumblr and r/hobbydrama (including yours.) I think I have a general idea of what Jason Todd is like, but I believe a lot of people are unhappy with his new characterisation.
So, if you were the one in charge, how would you write him? Would you write him with a team or as a solo character? Would you have him use the All-Blades or a crowbar or his guns? Would you have him properly rejoin the batfam or not?
Thanks!
Hi! Welcome to the fandom! I hope you're enjoying your time here.
In general, I think DC (and the fandom) has spent too much time milking Jason's death for trauma porn. They have refused to allow him to find closure, move past that, and exist beyond his daddy issues drama with Bruce. When DC has allowed him to have stories outside of that, they were often written with little consideration for what should be done with Jason beyond making him "badass."
None of this has been conducive to creating any kind of satisfying and coherent narrative or character arc for Jason, especially when both writers and editorial seem more obsessed with stealing traits, relationships, and stories from other people to give to him (most prominently Dick, Selina, and Helena). My hottake is that DC should move beyond "Red Hood" as an identity for Jason entirely, because it drags his character down and keeps him inherently tied to the same problems that have kept his character stagnant for years.
However! I don't think he's unsalvagable. I simply think DC needs to put a decent writer on him and commit to a character direction for more than 2 years at a time. I'm unsure of what Shawn Martinbrough is currently doing with Jason in his The Hill arc, as I'm not reading it, but I've heard that there might be some forward momentum finally happening there?
Anyway, my personal conception of Jason's future (as lovingly brainstormed by me and my friends in our comics discord server) is effectively this: he becomes a street-level paranormal detective who solves cold murder cases by talking with the victims' ghosts and providing closure to restless spirits. Think Lockwood and Co. meets Pushing Daisies with a superhero twist; basically, a supernatural detective noir book.
There's a lot of concepts and lore drops tied into this idea, but basically it was born out of a discussion where I was talking about Jason's many connections with the supernatural and occult across all continuities and how it's kind of a mystery why DC hasn't just formally connected him to the mystical side of the DCU. So I was like "they should just reveal that Superboy-Prime’s reality punch resurrection left him LITERALLY undead, make the event where he finds this out also spark his ability to see and communicate with ghosts, and make him an occult detective. Let him close cold case murder files and put those spectres to rest."
Which is also a great premise for a Bat book and a great unfilled niche for a Batfamily member. Kate's supernatural stories are much more high concept and connected to her family drama. Damian's supernatural/occult connections are traditionally very heavily tied to his family history and the Lazarus Pits. Dick's semi-regular magic encounters are usually stuff he deals with alongside his teammates in the course of working with the Titans. None of the other Bats have enough regular encounters with the supernatural and magic side of the DCU for it to encroach on their shtick, and a Gotham-based supernatural book is well within DC's ability to publish and market given books like Gotham by Midnight.
In terms of how that direction affects all the other questions you asked...I think Jason's relationship with the rest of the Batfam should be complicated. I personally don't think "good/bad relationship with the Batfam" is a particularly useful way to look at it because I think there are people he should never see eye to eye with, people he realistically shouldn't and doesn't have a problem with, and people he should get along with just fine. I don't think everyone needs to or should be friends or enemies with him, but his morals and past actions will (and should!) complicate those relationships in interesting ways.
And re: what weapons I'd like to see him use...using the All-Blades would certainly factor into my proposed narrative direction, as that would lean into the supernatural connections, but I generally prefer the concept of Jason using knives as his preferred weapon over guns/a crowbar/etc. That way he can still be a marksman without using guns, and I think that fits more with his character trajectory as someone attempting to be less lethal but also has no problem roughing people up when he thinks they need to be.
#jason todd#jason todd meta#thank you!#also I'm so sorry for the delayed response. my mental capacity to respond to people has been pretty low recently 😭#long post#ask#dc comics#batman#batfam
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(I've just now realized you might not check reblogs so I'm copy/pasting my response into the ask box at the risk of becoming Very Annoying because I'd feel worse if you didn't see it at all)
I'm not upset with you or anon, so no need for apologies (though I do appreciate it, you're so sweet)! I just love these characters so much, I want to be able to enjoy them alongside everyone else, which is why I tried (and failed) to come up with my own scenario.
Having the ROs react to outfits they picked for MC is such a cute idea! I hate shopping for anything, so having help clothes shopping would be such a blessing to me.
Hehehe, I'm glad you like the nickname! Literally came up with it to antagonize (affectionate) Willow with. I can't wait for the banter, I just know it's going to be so good! I'm also looking forward to some answers. I have my theory about what was going on, so I'm interested to see if I'm right (or at least close).
Howdy!! Sorry it took me a Minute to answer this, life has been.....a lot lmao. But I finally am getting to asks so!!
First off, you're definitely not being annoying. I do usually see reblogs, but don't always comment on them with any thoughts I have. But I love reading them!
I'm forever fascinated and excited by the idea that y'all have your own theories--it makes me even more hyped to dig into things. I can't wait to see how close you all end up being...and hope it's still fun regardless <3
Now!! Onto the fun part. Reactions to MC in clothes the ROs picked out under the cut c:
Beck- would get into dressing up MC no questions asked. They love fashion, even though their own fashion sense leans towards athleisure/casual, and would enjoy peppering MC with questions about what sort of clothes they like. When they saw MC show off the look they picked out they'd be hyped as hell--super proud and boastful, lol. Like..."I knew you'd look incredible. I'm good."
Croft- personally hates going shopping (busy, bright, loud), but loves fashion. It would probably even out and they'd be pretty excited to pick something out for MC. Their own style is fairly alt and they'd definitely try to pick out something similar for MC. And they'd be pleased with the results...even if the particular style isn't necessarily MC's usual lol.
Jay- depends--F!Jay would have fun with dressing MC up and would feel flattered and a little flustered with the results. Like...she'd get to see MC in the outfit she picked. Similar enough to in her own clothes that it would make her heart beat faster. M!Jay though is...not very fashion savvy. He'd be kind of shy about it, worried he'd pick something out that MC wouldn't like haha.
Perri- would get really excited about it, I think! Darting from store to store trying to find something that's perfect. They really love accessories so that would be their favorite part--trying to find something that feels like it fits MC. And once MC tried on the outfit they'd be sooooo excited. Just like, omg you look great ;.;
Ravi- have you considered an oversized vintage sweater? perhaps some beige slacks? lol Ravi is not the most imaginative. If he was tasked with picking out/buying an outfit for MC he'd essentially either a) just put together something he'd wear or, b) go with the classics. Much like in the demo lmao--just a sweatshirt and jeans. Comfy and simple.
Yasmin- would be the most excited out of everyone. She enjoys going to Easthaven's mall as well as 'thrifting' in the town's many, many antique and second-hand stores. She'd drag MC all around town trying to put together the perfect outfit. She'd also be peppering MC with questions throughout, to make sure she picked something that made them feel comfortable and that they liked.
#asks#beck#croft#jay#perri#ravi#yasmin#sorry again for the delay!!#thank you for making sure I saw this#you're so sweet <3
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Someone had this theory that Amane was the one hurting Tsukasa and that Amane was wounded cause Tsukasa fought back. Like throughout all the flashbacks we see, Tsukasa and Amane have a nice relationship and Tsukasa has never tried or wanted to hurt Amane at all but we don’t know that about Amane
hiiii sorry i took so long with this response!! things have been super busy for me this past week or so, so thank you for the ask and for your patience!!
that is an interesting theory!! I hadn’t thought of that possibility. I’ve been reading it as… amane is a pretty passive guy who, in killing tsukasa and himself, becomes hanako, our morally complicated hero who saves our heroine no matter the cost and finds a way to puppeteer all the situations he finds himself in. amane just feels so different from hanako in many ways, and I think there’s no way the murder wasn’t a huge turning point character-wise. but I do like the idea of glimmers of hanako shining through in amane—we certainly have seen many examples of how hanako is very much still amane!! so to see it go the other way would be really interesting!! could be interesting to see if hanako’s traits were actually in amane the whole time
personally though, I do think the murder was probably a drastic change in behavior for amane. the amane we’ve seen was pretty quiet and passive and clearly going through a lot internally that he wasn’t expressing outwardly (at least not directly). and i read this line from ch20 as an implication that amane was "holding back" for a long time before killing tsukasa:
so those lines make me think amane was probably not too aggressive with tsukasa during life, since he was supposedly "holding back," at least to tsukasa's perception.
regarding how healthy their relationship seems, it definitely seems like there was a gradual deterioration. 9-year-old amane and tsukasa at the festival seem to have a pretty normal sibling relationship, but things definitely seem off by middle school. that could potentially be amane’s doing! but I wouldn’t necessarily rule out tsukasa wanting to hurt amane… considering this is how he looks at a crying hanako:
and this is how he looks at a downtrodden, conflicted, tired amane:
and this is how he looks when he’s picturing blasting the clock amane is trying to fix to smithereens!!:
tsukasa is often a hard to read character, so I think it’s hard to say he definitely wasn’t thinking about hurting amane in these flashbacks. it''s still very up in the air to me!
it is true though that we don’t know what caused the shift to these thoughts he’s having in these middle school flashbacks, so it could have been pushed by amane’s hand! whatever it was that caused the rift between the twins during the time between tsukasa coming back from the red house and their deaths, i'm sure it was very complicated!!
amane clearly had a lot he was weighing and thinking about when it comes to tsukasa!
but personally, i think the damage amane/hanako does to tsukasa is more emotional than physical
i think ch91 is a good example of this:
i think hanako pointedly misses tsukasa physically here--i believe it's hanako's words and choices that have tears welling in tsukasa's eyes in this moment! and the blowing the clock to smithereens bit i referenced earlier in this post also seems like it was probably in response to whatever amane was doing with the clock--another potential instance of amane emotionally rather than physically wounding tsukasa, whether he means to or not.
also, while hanako is more active than amane, he's more tricky and controlling than physically aggressive. he doesn't seem to delight in violence and destruction or pain the way characters like tsukasa and teru do. all of his kills are relatively one-hit? he seems to like to keep things clean, so i don't really see an inclination toward violence in him, but hey, it could be a surprising twist!!
I still think the murder was amane’s breaking point, and probably his first big decisive action, one tsukasa pushed him to in one way or another for one reason or another—maybe he could sense amane’s suspicion and was hurt by it? maybe the god started taking over? who knows at this point! so many different possibilities. but this is definitely an interesting theory!! and i would be interested to see/hear what possibilities could lead to this
#thank you again for the ask!! and sorry for the delay!!#would love to think about this more too but i wanted to answer before the new chapter comes out#but it's definitely something i'll be thinking about further!!#ask#yugi twins
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Johnny Cage x Edenian Royalty reader who gives up their title and moves to Earthrealm just to be with him?
I might continue this in a later series because I like their dynamic a lot!! So in this one the reader doesn't COMPLETELY forgive up on the crown yet....but the seeds are certainly planted
Content: gn!reader, fluff, some mentions of nsfw subjects but really not a lot, alcohol, kinda just a silly little feel good fic!
(AO3 link here!)
Earthrealm was a mystery. After spending your whole life learning the ways of Outworld and studying the intricate relations between clans and kingdoms, the other plane was unknown to you in a way that you could only describe as strange. But that was okay. You liked strange. Maybe that’s what drew you to Johnny.
You had only been to Earthrealm briefly before in the days of Shinnok’s terror, and by proxy had met Johnny during that time. Almost immediately, he annoyed you. It seemed to be a common phenomenon. He was brash, rude, vain, and unapologetic about all of it–and all of that bothered you to no end. But he was strong, too, and surprisingly resilient. Even more surprising, he had saved your life on multiple occasions. Each time he pushed you out of the way of some projectile, or ran out into a battle to get ahead of you, or even just checked up on your wounds after a particularly bad fight (which, you noticed, he never did to anyone else), you started to see other things about him beyond his Hollywood-boy persona. Above all, he seemed to have a particular fascination with you.
It made you sick to your stomach. Even more than that, it made you blush, which in turn only made you feel sicker.
After everyone had returned home, bruised but victorious, you found your thoughts turning back to Johnny more often than you’d like to admit. You knew your place was here. You felt like you belonged in Edenia, and in Outworld as a whole. Your whole life so far had been spent to one day take the crown and become ruler of the kingdom. Until your travels to Earthrealm, you had never wanted anything else. But now, you found yourself drifting into your mind during important meetings, doodling on scrap paper the alien types of plants you’d encountered there, and missing the feeling of seeing your reflection in the lenses of a certain pair of sunglasses.
Your state worsened. You were chastised for being so distracted all the time and your parents, worried, even referred you to one of the doctors to see if anything was wrong with you. Of course, any unwellness you felt could be easily explained…just not to the Edenians around you.
Desperate for a cure, you made up your mind one night. Packing only a few things (you planned to return, anyways…eventually…), you snuck out in the middle of the night to one of the sacred grounds in the kingdom. This one, carved out in a cave, was home to a portal. It led to Earthrealm. You heard your father talking about the possibility of sealing it off in the future, citing that “nothing good comes from that wretched place!” You didn’t entirely agree.
After a nauseating travel across realms, trying to navigate a confusing city and an even more confusing transportation system, you wound up at the most gaudy mansion you had ever seen. You looked down at the little slip of paper in your hand–across it was scrawled Johnny’s signature, number, and address. It was something he’d given you right before you parted. You had promised to burn it the second you had time to. You had kept it in your vanity drawer ever since, though you hadn’t ever expected to use it.
Muffled, strange music met your ears as you stood on the doorstep. Beside the door was a gold plaque that read “Johnny’s Cage.” Well, this was certainly the right place. You raised your hand to knock on the heavy wooden doors, but suddenly there was some kind of barrier. What would you even say to him? You really hadn’t thought that far ahead. You only knew you wanted to see him again. Your arm slowly lowered to your side. Maybe this was a mistake. You were better off forgetting all of this, forgetting him. But…this time, you lifted your knuckles to the door. They rapped politely. You had come this far already. May as well see it through.
The door cracked open and the strange music grew louder. Tinny drums and a horn that sounded like it was underwater filled your ears along with the anxiety welling up in your throat. And, unceremoniously, there was Johnny dressed in nothing but a silk robe and a pair of brightly colored swim trunks. The second he laid eyes on you, his air of curiosity and confusion turned to one of bemused smugness.
“Oh, tell me I’m dreaming,” he chuckled as the opened the door wide. You could see the rest of his home behind him, marble walls and floors and expensive-looking art on the walls and a massive pool right in the center of his living room.
“No,” you replied, feeling more like you were the one in the dream. “I’m real.”
“And to what do I owe the pleasure, your Highness?” Johnny twirled his hand and gave a little bow. He had never really taken your royal status seriously, only ever acknowledging it in moments of tomfoolery like this. Somehow, at this moment at least, you found it endearing.
“Well…” You took a breath as you tried to decide on your angle. “You gave me your address.”
“I did!” He grinned, and then paused. “You kept it?”
“I did,” you echoed, showing him the slip of paper still clutched in your hand. “I figured it would be rude not to use it.”
“Good thing you had all those Edenian manners lessons.” He laughed at his own joke and turned with an unintentional flourish of his robe. “C’mon in. You want something to drink?”
Not wanting to embarrass yourself with guessing what little foodstuffs Outworld and Earthrealm had in common, you shook your head. “No. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself.” Johnny made a beeline for a bar set-up he had near the pool and started to mix himself something. Getting a better look at the inside of the mansion as you followed him inside, you could see that several of the art hangings were paintings of Johnny himself in various styles. In one, he was posing with a tiger. Vases and statues and weapons lined the corners of the rooms, almost as if the home was afraid to have a single square foot that wasn’t glimmering with something or other. Despite the organized clutter and the loud music that seemed to come from everywhere, you couldn’t help but notice that there only seemed to be only one inhabitant of the place.
“Do you live here alone?” you called out as you examined a series of trophies on a shelf.
“No! I mean, well, there’s the maids and stuff. And that little guy.” You followed his pointed finger to a little disc-shaped robot trekking across the spotless floors.
“Oh.” With a polite smile, you approached and crouched beside it. It seemed to pay you no mind, but you continued anyway. “Hello, there.”
You could hear Johnny stifle a laugh and a snort, but when you looked over at him he was faced away from you, still working on his drink. “He, uh, he doesn’t exactly talk back. But if he could I bet he’d be charmed.”
“Ah.” Trying to force a blush away from your cheeks, you stood up and watched the little thing scoot away, unbothered.
“You like it here?” Johnny asked, coming up behind you. In a strangely shaped glass was a drink so colorful it looked like it might hurt to swallow, but it seemed to refresh him nonetheless.
“It’s, uh…it’s very ‘you,’” you smiled a little, motioning to the tiger painting. Johnny laughed.
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites! Took forever to get that tiger to sit still. Fuckin’ sweet, though.” You turned to get a better look at it again, and when you looked back Johnny had inched closer to you. “So, tell me: what are you really doing here?”
“What do you mean?” you asked. That familiar irritation you often felt with him was slowly making its way back. You didn’t really mind.
“It’s just that I don’t exactly believe that you hopped dimensions on a whim.” A beat as he sipped. “Like, I know I’m irresistible, but come on.”
“Well, that’s sort of what happened,” you laughed softly. “I don’t have a big reason. I just…wanted to see you again.”
“Ohhh.” Johnny flashed you a grin. “Got the Cagester on the brain, huh? A pretty serious infection, I know.”
“You have a very…uh, memorable presence,” you decided on.
“Well, I can’t promise a cure, but I’m here to provide in any way your little royal ass wants,” he murmured, leaning in close to you. That blush you thought you’d taken care of came back with a vengeance.
“What?” was all you could muster.
“Anywhere you want,” he was grinning. “Could give you a tour of the bedroom. The couch over there is pretty comfy. Or, we could get a little freaky and head into the pool if you’re into that…”
“Johnny,” you laughed nervously. “No, I…I didn’t come here for that.”
“Oh. Really?” He frowned into his drink and then looked up at you again, incredulous. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I came because I missed you. Not your body, just you.”
“Oh,” he said again. He only seemed more confused. “Huh. That’s…that’s a new one.”
“Is that so hard to believe?” You cocked your head.
“It’s just that, uh, y’know. People don’t usually come over just to hang out or talk or whatever. They don’t usually…stay afterwards.”
“Would you like that?” you asked, guiding his cheek so he was looking at you.
“Yeah,” he breathed with a nod. His eyes, usually hidden by whatever shades he had chosen for that day, suddenly looked so full of longing. For the first time, you understood just how lonely this man was.
“Okay,” was all you said. You pulled him into a hug. His robe was soft, and so was his skin. At first, Johnny remained frozen. He didn’t seem to know how to react to such a genuine gesture. But he hugged you back, letting out a sigh that rivaled one of Atlas.
“I really, really needed this,” he muttered, chuckling tiredly.
“I can tell.”
“Eugh. Guess I don’t deserve all those Oscar’s, then.”
You didn’t know what in the world he was talking about, but before you could ask, he was already talking again.
“Y’know, I…I thought you hated me.”
“No,” you shook your head. “Not at all.”
“At all?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“Well…” You huffed, smiling in spite of yourself. “You can be irritating. And loud. And arrogant.”
“But…?” He pursed his lips, waiting for you to go on.
“I don’t know,” was all you could think to say.
“Not exactly the confidence-booster I was looking for.”
“You have enough confidence,” you teased.
“It is one of my strong suits.” He grinned and downed a little more of his drink. “I guess it should be telling enough that you trekked all the way out here just to see me. You must like something about me.”
“I like plenty about you. It’s just hard to name.” You tilted your head as you watched him. He looked so pretty in the dim lighting of his lavish, yet warm home. Then again, he usually did.
“We’ve got plenty of time to rectify that,” he smirked, his voice dropping down to a sultry hum. “Unless you were planning on making this trip a short one. But…”
You followed his gaze to your bag, still slung over your shoulder.
“I sort of assumed you’d let me stay.” You paused and corrected yourself. “That you’d want me to stay.”
“Forever?” He seemed a little too excited about the prospect, if a little caught off-guard.
“No,” you laughed at his likeness to a puppy. “Just for a little. I still have responsibilities, you know.”
“Right, right. The whole heir to the throne thing.” Johnny seemed utterly bored by the position. “That’s a shame. I know some of the guest rooms could use some love.”
“I just wanted to visit. See where this goes,” you said carefully, unsure exactly what ‘this’ even meant. Johnny, however, didn’t seem to care. He hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer. The look in his eyes that usually came off as cockiness now seemed to give way to a genuine enthrallment with you. It gave you flutters in your stomach. You didn’t hate the feeling.
“I’m down for that,” he murmured. A large hand caressed your cheek. “Y’know, now that I’m thinkin’ about it, my master bedroom is the loneliest one of all. And its owner wouldn’t mind a companion.”
“Someone to bed-warm?” you chuckled. Johnny’s eyebrows shot straight up.
“I thought you didn’t want to–I mean, listen I would love that, but I was just talking about, y’know, uh…sharing a bed tonight.”
You frowned, searching his face for any sign of what the confusion was. “I was, too. You know what bed-warming is, right?”
“I know what a bed-warmer is!” Suddenly, realization came across his eyes in a wave. “Oh. Oh. Is this–this is some weird Edenian culture shock thing for me, isn’t it?”
“Maybe?” You shrugged as the thought crossed your mind. “For us, bed-warming is like…it’s hugging. Spending the night curled up to one another. Especially on cold nights. Y’know, because another body makes the bed warm.”
Johnny looked like he’d been slapped. “Yes! Yeah. Okay. That…that makes sense. Uh, that would be really nice. I’d like that.”
“What does bed-warming mean in Earthrealm?” you questioned as he turned to the bar again to clean up his glass.
“Uh…” Johnny’s cheeks went pink. For once, he didn’t seem to want to delve into what you assumed had to be some sort of innuendo. “Y’know what? Forget it. You look tired. You came a long way, I bet. Let’s just go up to bed. I’ll show you my room! It’s really cool in there, I’ve got this statue that…”
As he started up the stairs, rambling half-nervously and half-excitedly, you couldn’t stop a smile from creeping onto your face. For the first time that night, you felt completely secure in your decision to escape from home for a bit.
#wedontdeservethefics#asks#anon#thank you anon!! sorry for the delay#i am officially in rehearsals for two shows at once now so im. very busy#not counting classes and assistant teaching and such#BUT!! i really like this concept......i will likely continue in the future teehee#johnny cage x reader#johnny cage#mk#mortal kombat#gn!reader#edenian!reader
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Hello, everyone. Before I get into this, I’d like to make it known that this is not a goodbye post. I’m not giving up on this blog - I still love running it.
Anyways, I sincerely apologize for the delay in answering asks. I used to be able to answer them within the day or the next day, but now it’s been more like a day to three days.
I’ve just been struggling with things like my schedule, motivation, and mental health, so I hope you can all understand. Again, this isn’t a goodbye post, all I’m saying is that it might take up to a day to potentially four or five days for your ask to be answered. I hope you can all understand, thank you. I love you all, and thank you for supporting my blog.
(Sorry if this is too overdramatic, I just felt bad for taking so long…)
#ask honkai star rail characters#honkai star rail#asks#asks open#hsr#my asks#send asks#send me asks#answering asks#answering stuff#hsr blog#hsr blogging#ask blog#hsr.#honkai sr#answering things#answering questions#answering anons#sorry for answering this so late#sorry#explanation#i apologize#sorry for the delay#i love you all#thank you all#i love my followers#i love this blog#not quitting#not quite a vent#explaining
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Everyday I scroll through your blog just to remember what happiness is.
Also, I did have an actual question or request(?) I suppose, I want, NEED more details about your specific AU with Wendy and Jackie, what fo they enjoy? How often do they fight with their fathers? What do they grow up to be??? You've said before that Jack is scared of his powers, so does this result in him going out and having a 'normal' life? How would that affect his relationships with his family?
Of course you don't have to answer but I am very curious!
hello there!! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying my blog, thank you for your kind words 💙
and yes i will gladly answer your questions! this will probably get a bit long, i hope that's okay with you
au's mainly focused on twins when they are around 17-18 (kind of symbolic to tim's age when he cloned them because I'm prosy like that)
one of the main reasons why I've decided to go for twins in this au (aside from being indecisive about whether it should be a boy or a girl) is because it gives me a chance to demonstrate how two people can have same upbringing/surrounding and be influenced by the very same group of people AND still form entirely different perspectives and opinions on certain things. i'm going to use both kids' relationships with kon as one of the clearest examples:
wendy appreciates kon dearly, she thinks very high of him and constantly seeks for his company and attention. on the other hand, as she gets older, it becomes really awkward for her to be around him because she's old enough now to actually understand and pear wiggle the whole "my dad cloned me out of this dead dude's dna without his consent" thing in her head, until she has to stop for a moment and go: "wow. that was So Not Okay of my dad." on top of that she's facing a major identity crisis because you know, teens, and starts to question her own existence and even tim's love for her, because she can't be sure now if he actually loves her or if she's just a good enough replacement of what her dad could have loved, but never got an actual chance. which eventually leads to her bottling up lots of anger towards tim, because obviously it's his fault that she can't look kon in the eyes anymore, and none of this would've happened if he just had his shit together and didn't try to clone kon all those years ago (and she's not even entirely wrong)
what she CAN'T fathom just yet is the fact that she loves kon so much partly because she got to see him through tim's eyes; part of her affection for kon is deeply rooted in a way tim spoke about him when she was a kid, always loving, always in awe — essentially, tim was the first person who taught wendy the concept and the feeling of love. and even her awkwardness and guilt that she's experiencing around kon are inherited from tim; she's just mirroring her dad's own feelings about himself without even realizing it
jackie, on the other hand... it would be easy to say that he's just not as close with kon as his sister, but when you start to look at the reasons, well, it gets a little bit messy. you see, jackie was always a "daddy's boy"; he and tim were inseparable when jackie was a kid, they still are, actually, it's just that tim only now starts to realize negative side effects of their closeness but that's for another post. not only that, he's also much more... observant than wendy in a lot of ways, so while wendy was soaking in tim's affection for kon as a sponge to eventually make it her own, jackie couldn't help but notice how hard it was for his dad to have kon in his life only as a co-parent and nothing more (they've bended their friendship as years went by, but it was never easy for both of them); not to mention that tim, to this day, experiences a very severe depressive episodes, to the point of not being able to get out of bed — jackie was very affected by it too growing up. so to him, as of now, it doesn't make sense for kon to stick around and be his usual "weekend dad" if he's not willing to stay forever, and he's kind of resentful towards kon, because he always felt sorry for tim in this situation. not that he doesn't understand why exactly it's the way that it is, it's just that his philosophy on that matter is: if you can't stay forever, do not bother visiting us at all, and stop giving dad any hope for more. jackie's anxiety regarding his kryptonian powers also does not help at all, more on that later
(got carried away with this, sorry, i just had to take this opportunity to explain why there are twins in my timkon clone baby au)
so about the kids, wendy is a rebellious soul and free spirit, and her interests really show that about her — she's been horse riding since she was five, tim was a bit hesitant about it at first, but with damian's help they managed to convince him that everything is going to be okay; damian has also bought wendy her own horse, the one she's connected with in her equestrian club (damian is her favorite uncle ever since; she did not let him call her horse a "Bathourse", tho). aside from that she plays guitar just a little, tim's also tried to teach her piano but ended up failing miserably; he also wasn't able to pass on to her his music taste, wendy is almost strictly a pop girl. she's not really good at photography from professional point of view, but she almost always has her little digital camera with her to take snapshots of memories
(she's also really into true crime videos/podcasts, it's one of the activities that she likes to share with her dad; most times after a fight with tim, if she wants to make up or apologize, she just sneaks into his office and starts playing random true crime youtube video at full volume)
jackie doesn't really have a "main" interest or hobby, even though he's passionate about a lot of things, some of them include: art (because damian), sports (although he's not playing himself), cars (because tim), photography (once again, tim), also I'm pretty sure he's good at math — a little bit of this, a little bit of that, as he himself would say. it could create a major problem for him to choose between college programs if he hadn't already decided that he is going to inherit drake industries, so business it is. tim actually had a whole conversation with him, like, "are you SURE that's what you want," resulting in jackie just. shrugging his shoulders, because it's just about as good as any other choice; not that he has some big, special dream anyway. also i think that he probably skipped a class (wendy did not; she's not too excited about going to college)
speaking about jackie being scared of his powers, it's most likely the result of an accident/series of accidents from his childhood when he unwillingly hurt tim or demolished something during tantrums (he used to throw them a lot when he was younger); kon has offered his help at figuring out how to control it, of course, but if for wendy it was existing and she wanted to get even stronger and make more progress, for jackie it was always about keeping it at bay so to not hurt anyone else. he never really wanted to become a vigilante either, which is good enough for tim because he's worried enough about wendy rushing to the field; he's as close at being a civilian as you can possibly get while growing up with bats and having a kryptonian dad. mostly it's a relief for his family ("at least one of us is going to graduate college"), although wendy can't stop bugging him about joining in and being the coolest vigilante twins gotham has ever seen. it's a bit isolating for him, sure, considering that everyone in his family is a superhero of some sort, but with tim mostly being a stay at home dad and only managing comms every once in a while it turned out better than it could
it DID get long, and i start to lose the train of thoughts; nevertheless, i hope you'll enjoy this answer 💙 feel free to ask more about them, I'm always up to chatting about my babies
#dc#dc comics#timkon clone baby au#timkon clone baby#timkon#tim drake#red robin#kon el#superboy#conner kent#wendy drake#jackson drake#thank you so much for this ask#it caught me at a very stressful time and actually managed to bring smile on my face. love you#also so sorry about the delay#job is kicking my ass
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Hello! I loved your Sorn even before I started drawing again. You are actually one of the people who inspired me to start again!
Lux never lived among Drow - And never in the Underdark until post-game…. But I think she would still hug Sorn for what he had to go through Q_Q Just because she's a drow woman and wants to say sorry.
Hello!!! I apologize for the late response, and thank you so much for this message!!!!
This is so sweet!!!! AAAhh Thank you so much!!!! I'm very honored!!!!!!!!😭🙏🙇 I will forever treasure this!!!! And I'm happy to hear you're starting again!!!! I hope you keep finding inspiration and have fun🫂
Lux darling ;; that's very kind of her!!! I think Sorn would be a little confused about why Lux would want to say sorry to him and would hesitate to hug back at first... (I hope you don't mind I sketched a reply?? and I hope I didn't butcher her...? @@;;)
#ask#I'm really sorry for the delay I've been sick lately#BuT thIS ask has kept me happier!!! Thank you so much!!#demiart#tav:sorn#happy post#everyone please look at this nice drow lady!!!!!!!!!!!
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do you take requests🧍♀️
LMAO I don't know if I would write full versions of these, but I can do some short snippets of each!
I. writer! Todd and vampire! Neil neighbours
Nicolas bared his teeth – and they were not just flashing white as Andrea had seen, but long and pointed, and curved like the canines of wolves. And they were no longer white, but slick and dark with blood. Of course. What a fool he had been. Nicolas moved closer and put one hand on Andrea’s throat, one cold relentless hand, so that they could both feel his pulse jumping between them. Behind him, pinned to the metal wall, Clara’s stake lay clenched in his hand.
“No, no, no,” said Neil cheerily across the space between their balconies, “you’ve forgotten that Andrea wears that necklace.”
If it had been six months ago, Todd would have – and had – turned red, snatched his laptop off the flimsy table, and scuttled away into the sanctity of his own apartment, imposing a state of self-exile from the balcony for several more weeks. Fortunately it was not. He twisted around in the chair, shot a half-despairing glance at Neil’s grinning face, and asked, “Have you never heard of privacy once in your entire life?”
“I have many times heard of l’intimité,” said Neil, grinning wider, “and of einkalíf, and even yǐnsī. Privacy, however. That’s a new one. Pri-var-see. Is that how you say it?”
He was incorrigible. Todd had discovered quite early on in their friendship that Neil had had some huge measure of life experiences which allowed him to come up with a rebuttal to every situation, and even earlier on that allowing him to run his mouth in French was a dangerous thing to do to himself. He was best humoured. “You’re in a boasting mood,” he said, pulling the laptop towards him. “I’ll bite. What’s wrong with his necklace?”
“You’re the one writing with your screen brightness all the way up on an open balcony,” said Neil mildly, but acquiesced when Todd shot him a threatening look. “Sorry. Lips sewn. Anyway – whatever gory hand-to-hand combat scene you’re working on there can’t go if he’s got the necklace on.”
“Well, why not?”
“It’s a fish,” said Neil, with some measure of surprise.
Todd fixed him with a look. “Neil, Andrea is a marine biologist.”
“A marine biologist wearing an ancient symbol of Christ around his neck,” said Neil. “Nicolas – he’s the vampire, yes? – he wouldn’t be very partial to that, I imagine.”
“A fish?” said Todd, surprised. “Well, it's not exactly a cross.”
“Hurts just as bad,” said Neil, making a face. “I mean, I would reckon. You know the ichthys actually predates the cross by two centuries? Bit more power to it, wouldn’t there be?”
He squinted and turned around fully. In the faint light spilling from his flat – the light from his flat was always faint – Neil looked loose-limbed and relaxed, draped over his balcony with his customary easy smile on his face, and his perpetual air of someone who knew more than he was letting on. Infuriatingly, the air was alluring at the best of times. But there was no hint of a lie or a joke on his face. “How on earth do you know that?”
“I’ve got time,” said Neil, “I read.” Then, with a shrug affecting casualness, “Could come over to yours and explain it more to you, if you want.”
“Well,” said Todd, and then, “well.” It had been six months they had known each other. He supposed that was enough time. But it had not happened before. For a moment a terrible feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him – something prickled over the back of his head like a hood, and a cloud crossed the moon, so that for half a second all was plunged into darkness. He shuddered. But then the clouds cleared and a ray of light struck Neil’s face, and illuminated it for him; he looked a little bit sheepish and a little bit pale, with nervousness perhaps. His hands twisted, one after the other, on the railing of the balcony. He was looking determinedly down. “I suppose it’d be helpful,” he said, and Neil looked up with a smile, suddenly blinding.
“Really?” he said.
“Well, don’t make me recant the offer.”
“Of course. Invite me in?”
He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door, standing up. “No,” said Neil, in a voice that was soft but carried nevertheless, and filled with laughter. “I’d like to hear you say it.” He was full of odd little idiosyncrasies like that, and despite himself, they were all endearing.
“You – are – ridiculous,” he said, punctuating each word with a movement; standing up, shutting the laptop, tucking the chair in behind him. “Are you recording that, or something? Come on over to the door. Of course you can come in.” He left Neil’s smile and the laptop behind him and slipped back into his flat, to stack the cushions back onto the sofa and check his hair in the mirror.
It did not occur to him until much later the point that should have been obvious from the start – that their balconies were much too far apart to see well, and that his screen brightness, despite Neil’s insistence, had not been turned up all that much at all. But by that point, he could no longer quite bring himself to care.
II. vampires! Todd and Neil forced to plan museum heists
Languages tended to blend into one another these days; they evolved so much over these many hundreds of years that dialects, once sisters, became distant cousins, and then ceased being on speaking terms altogether. It was awfully difficult to keep up, at least without looking like a fool or a grandfather. Despite that, some languages had, throughout the years, impressed themselves onto certain parts of Todd’s moods. Corsican when he was feeling playful, Old Norse when he had just woken up or was particularly vulnerable – English for almost everything else, except in those rare cases where he felt something unimaginably distressing had happened, or that some unforeseen calamity was tearing at the bounds of his reality, demanding to be given voice and a few more vowels. In those cases it was invariably French.
“Merde,” he said, staring in dismay at the display case, “oh, merde.”
“Fill de puta,” agreed Neil gloomily.
Staring back at him was five sheets of stained paper, covered densely from margin to margin in a scribbling hand he knew very well, seeing as it was attached to his wrist. They had been arranged with the utmost care on a transparent support, and although he had not read the contents of the label next to it, he could, very clearly, see its proud, bolded title: The Met Museum presents – “His sweet mouth”: Love Letters Through Time.
“Fill de puta,” Neil repeated. This time with a touch more horror.
“That must have been one of your letters,” said Todd faintly.
“The first time I used the phrase,” he rejoined, “le Roi Soleil was already dead.” He gestured at the line before them that read 15th century, exact date unknown. “That was you. Remember?”
He remembered, unfortunately, in excruciating detail. That had been a particularly thrilling night – a young man, one of Borso’s hanger-ons – a moonlit chase through the Castello Estense – him and Neil had been younger then, and had spilled more blood than was strictly necessary in the process. But it had been wonderfully romantic, and shortly afterwards, when Neil had gone off to Venice to do something with alum and Todd had remained in Ferrara, he had sat at his desk and remembered the moment; their hands and mouths meeting in that dim corridor of the Castello, the soft chimes of their laughter, the taste of the courtier’s sweet blood lingering still on his tongue. Enamoured, and in a mood much more befitting to a youth, he had written the letter and sent it off with a kiss.
It had been well received at the time; Neil had come back from Ferrara early and they had gone off for a third honeymoon in Milan, and stayed until the whole business with Galeazzo Maria had forced a quick escape. When asked where the letter had gone Neil had only assured him that he had kept it, with the kind of dashing prince’s bow he had favoured at the time. Looking at him now, both of them were remembering it.
He looked a little closer, just making out a particular line of Italian which had not been fit for public company in 1469 and was certainly not more so now, under hundreds of thousands of visitors’ eyes. “You said – ”
“I may,” said Neil, a little shamefacedly, “have lost it.” He rubbed at the back of his neck and added ruefully, “1844.”
He put a hand over his eyes. “The Oregon Trail?”
“It was quite windy.”
He pointed accusingly at the letter, and Neil winced. “Not windy enough to destroy the damn thing.”
“Well, it could be worse.”
“Worse!” One or two people looked over; he pulled Neil with him into the corner of the room, away from the damning glass display cases. “Neil, not only has our property been stolen – ”
“Lost.”
“Yes, because you lost it. Not only that, but now thousands of people are looking at it under this – damn – ” Lost for words, he pointed at the sign above them as they had walked into this particular exhibition room, reading, quite damningly, Eroticism and Sensuality, 1300-1550. He took one deep breath and compressed all the forcefulness and anger into a single, low, “Merde!”
“It was quite a good letter,” Neil offered. “I was flattered. Particularly the passage about my – ”
“There’s nothing for it,” Todd decided, firmly cutting him off. “Does Charlie still have all of his equipment from the ‘60s?”
“Good God,” said Neil smilingly. The good thing about having known each other for over a thousand years was that, at this point, they could have been the same person; he had not surprised Neil in quite some time with his actions. “You don’t mean to break into the Met?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
Neil blinked at him slowly, and pulled him a little closer, so that they were pressed close enough together to be mistaken for young lovers. A middle-aged woman pushing a stroller shot them a smile as she walked by, and Todd smiled back, close-lipped. “I certainly haven’t been arrested in quite some time,” Neil mused.
“And you can’t be hung for it any more,” Todd pointed out, putting his head on his shoulder. “The stakes are exceedingly low. Neil, I really do want that letter back.”
When he looked up at him again he was smiling; the wide flashing smile which exposed all his teeth and the fangs jutting sharp onto his bottom lip. The light in his eyes had long since died but in the reflected glow of the spotlights they looked almost alive again, and dancing with mischief. “Well, if you wish it,” he said. “Then I can’t say no.”
Notes:
I: languages Neil uses in succession: French, then Icelandic, then Chinese. Take all the stuff about the icthys with large grains of salt - I did like 3 seconds of research for this and it was all on Wikipedia! Also I do think Andrea wears specifically the icthys, and not just any old fish.
II: Todd is of course using French, but Neil uses Catalan. Maybe I've been reading too much Aubrey-Maturin. The Borso mentioned is Borso d'Este - highly recommend reading more about him if you like Quattrocento things. Similarly Galeazzo Maria is of course the real Sforza who was assassinated in 1476!
#sorry about the delay i was sleeping + debating the merits of consuming jesus' stigmata with some friends. you know how it is#anderperry#dead poets society#anderperry fic#tristan writes#thanks for (sort of) requesting! it was nice to stretch these particular writing muscles#tristan stop bringing everything back to Quattrocento courtly dynamics challenge. failed#ask
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I saw you had asks open and I had a really stupid idea but could you draw Reigan as a húli jīng
had to say i had to research this and then i saw that is just like fox god concept and i had to XD hope you like it and thank you for the ask!!
#so sorry for the delay#hope you like it#reigen arataka#thank you for the ask#my art#mob psycho fanart#mp100 fanart
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ok, now that bean quickshadow is done. where is squish bean blurrsy, salvage and hightide. please. I need em.
Not pictured:
Cody and Charlie in the Peter Griffin Death pose, the others are screaming and the kitchen’s on fire.
Blurr is an almost uncontrollable bean of wild energy (as if on a constant sugar rush). Salvage and Hightide are way calmer in return, Salvage collects little nick-knacks he finds and tries to make something crude out of them, while Hightide is usually really quiet until he’s placed in the bath tub (or any larger body of water).
#wildlygay#ask box#thank you for your ask!#rescue bots#transformers rescue bots#transformers#maccadam#rb high tide#tfrb high tide#rb blurr#tfrb blurr#rb salvage#tfrb salvage#my art#my doodle#digital#tf sparkling#tf hatchling#sparklings#sorry for the delay on this one!#hope the beans bring you happiness
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