#we don't know where we will be in even half a year. maybe more people leave
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More of older Kate and younger Anthony. It's a tragedy we don't have more fics of that age gap. It's always older Anthony - which is great but I would like to see how it could work with older Kate. So many possibilities. I hope one day you wiil be brave enough to give that trope a try. Maybe you will inspire other writers to do so too.
Here's a little more!
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“Hey, Kate.”
She really wished he wouldn’t use that fucking voice on her. The soft, rich one that made her knees go a little weak and blood rush to her face, as if he literally wasn’t just saying hello.
“Hi, Anthony,” she said evenly, taking a sip of her Moscato. “Good to see you.”
His warm eyes flicked over her body, subtly, but not fast enough for Kate not to notice. “You look beautiful tonight.”
Truthfully, she felt a bit awkward. She hadn’t worn this dress in at least eight years, on Tom’s arm at some work event. It was drapey silver fabric, with jeweled straps and a high slit in the back. Kate knew it still looked good, knew her figure hadn’t changed much in that time, but she felt a little like she had then. Like she was playacting to fit in among a bunch of people she had nothing in common with. “Thank you. You look nice as well.”
Nice was a hilarious understatement. He was wearing a white button-down, rolled up to his elbows, and navy trousers that made his arse look like a work of art.
Well. He’d obviously worked hard for that arse; he did deserve to show it off, she supposed.
He smiled crookedly, resting his elbow against the table, and Kate took a breath. The last thing she needed was for Anthony Bridgerton to pay any actual attention to her. His glances from across the room were enough to fuck with her head. If he was going to linger around her and tell her how beautiful she looked, things were going to fall apart quickly.
“You didn’t look like you were having a great time,” Anthony said, some of the artificial charm leaking from his voice, replaced with genuine curiosity. “I thought you might like some company.”
Kate met his eyes. He was watching her intently, as if he had honestly been concerned about her, and-
Fuck, he was good. It was no wonder that women were burning their knickers for him left and right. He had multiple tricks up his sleeve - if they didn’t fall for the swagger, he swung to personal interest.
“I’m having a great time,” she said with a shrug. “Thank you, though.”
“Bullshit. You’ve been standing in this corner half the night.”
Kate’s jaw tightened. No way he had been watching her that closely. It was true, though - Violet had pleaded with her to come, but she had hostess duties and could hardly cling to Kate’s side all evening. “I think there are other people here who are actually seeking your attention.”
He frowned. “Who, the people from my father’s company? It may not surprise you to learn that they’re all dicks.”
That did not surprise her, but Kate scoffed anyway. “I was thinking more like your girlfriend over there.”
Anthony’s eyes shot to where she had gestured - the pretty young brunette who was wearing a skintight black leather dress and flashing a truly impressive fuck me gaze.
“Siena’s not my girlfriend,” he said, seeming annoyed at the insinuation. “She’s a friend of the family-.”
“But you’ve slept with her, right?” Kate interrupted. He looked a little taken aback, and even she couldn’t account for why she said it with such disdain. “I’m friends with your mum. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me.”
Eyes growing heated, Anthony took a step toward her, until they were eye to eye and all she could smell was his citrusy cologne and the bite of whiskey on his breath. “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.”
“You know what my mum has told you about me. You’ve met me a few times now. Don’t bother trying to bullshit me, Kate. You’ve seen enough to decide not to give me a chance.”
Heat pricked at the back of her neck, something dangerous brewing in the static air between them. “Give you a chance to do what?”
“To get to know you,” Anthony murmured, his eyes dropping briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. “To spend time with you.”
Kate couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what else to do but laugh, at the ridiculousness of the situation, at the unbearable tension that strung them together. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Does that matter?”
“Do you even know how old I am?”
“You’re thirty-seven,” he said easily, not sounding fazed in the slightest. “And you’re smart, and funny, and fucking gorgeous, and I…god, Kate. If you had any idea, the dreams I’ve had of you.”
A shiver worked up her spine at the way he was looking at her. The face of a man dying to act out his filthiest fantasies. And something in her ached to let him.
Kate swallowed. This had already gone too far. She should have cut it off the second he approached her. “You need to stop.”
“Because you want me to? Or because you have some arbitrary reason why you think we shouldn’t?” he challenged. Reaching out, Anthony slid his large hand over her forearm, goosebumps erupting over her skin. “Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want a single thing from me, and I’ll walk away and never bother you again.”
It was so easy. To just push the words past her lips, I don’t want you. You’re not worth what I could lose. Give up on this foolish notion of us, before it bites us both in the arse. He needed to hear it, and Kate would only be giving him the out that he would seek himself, sooner or later.
Instead, she brushed his hand off her arm, shaking her head minutely. “Good night, Anthony.”
And as she slipped around him, Kate forced herself not to look back.
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WHAT THE HELL WHY IS SNAPE SO MUCH MORE CRUEL IN THE BOOKS? 💀 Thank you so much for telling me all that btw, I think I understand why so many hate him now, since I've only seen the movies I was always flabbergasted when people said that they hate Snape but bro is a literal creep. Taking Lily's photo is sooo weird wtf 😭 Also why is he tormenting a literal 11 year old boyy. Damn. And poor Hermione :')
Thank you for your time btw! ^^
Also, are there any honorary mentions in the books? Not necessarily about Snape too perhaps but maybe anyone or anything else? Like, are the books that different from the movies? Low-key makes me wanna read them but I don't feel like buying the books 💔 (':
You don't need to buy anything! It's free if you search online. I haven't bought a single book but I've read the whole series online and even found the audiobooks free online lmao.
Honorary mentions?
Tbh, when Harry visits his parents graves in deathly hallows, I was always moved by the line 'he wished he was sleeping under the snow with them'
And I think all the chapters in Half blood prince that focus on Voldemort's memories from when he was a young man are super engaging. Everything about his family is interesting, imo.
I liked how, when Hermione asks Ron to be her date to Slughorns party, Harry gets all flustered and says he 'knew something like this would happen'
I like how, when Harry uses the resurrection stone in the last book, he and his mother are so enthused to be able to look at each other that they just gaze at each other for a bit.
I LOVE the scene with Madame Maxine and Hagrid when we find out Hagrid is a half giant. I'm a sucker for characters telling people they like "don't go". And I love how Harry is all like "oh damn. I should NOT be hearing this conversation"
There's a moment where Harry tells the dursley's that Voldemort has come back, and aunt petunia expresses fear. Harry says it's the first time he appreciates that petunia is his mother's sister. I think it's so cool that petunia, someone who does her best to live a smuggle life, is still very aware of the kind of threat that Voldemort is. I feel like that's a detail a lot of people look over. To me, that scene adds a whole new layer to how terrifying Voldemort is.
I like how Neville gets given a candy wrapper by his mom (she was tortured to insanity and has been permanently hospitalized. Neville was raised by his gran as a result) and his gran tells him to throw it away, but when he thinks no one is looking, he stuffs it into his pocket instead. Like. God. I just love that scene. Neville's mom doesn't know who he is. To me, I read that scene and can't help but think "Neville has never received a gift from his parents. He keeps that wrapper because it's the only thing his mom has ever given him. It is the only type of 'gift' that he will ever receive from his mom" It drives me insane.
Oh and oh my GOD. I love how Hagrid is all like "Harry, I'd love you to win the tournament. It'd show everyone that you don't need to be pure blood to be worth something" and this moves Harry so much that he gets to work on solving the egg clue. Literally NOTHING anybody else has said to him has made him take action, but Hagrid's faith in him is what did the trick. And I love the line "there was something about lying to Hagrid that wasn't quite like lying to anyone else." Their relationship is honestly so pure. I love that Hagrid was Harry's introduction to the Wizarding world. He literally brings Harry to us, the reader (or watcher if we're talking the movies). Harry comes to us on Hagrid's motor bike. From the very beginning, Hagrid carries out Harry's introduction.
I love EVERYTHING about the way dobby adores Harry. You don't get much a sense of it in the movies, but their relationship is super wholesome. Dobby may have been a free elf, but he followed Harry's every command because he loved him so much. He straight up fought another elf for insulting Harry. He deserved better than what the movies did with him.
I will say, the one thing from the movies I like better is that I love the scene with Hermione and Hagrid right after Draco calls her a mudblood. I love how he holds her hand and says "don't you think on it" and Hermione's eyes are filled with tears but she smiles at him anyway. That was incredibly cute. Although, in the books, Hermione does not know what a mud blood is, and I think there is merit in having Ron--the only pureblood wizard--know what it is while Harry and Hermione do not. There's something so pure about Ron attacking Draco even though hermione doesn't know what a mudblood is. It's like "I don't care if you didn't hurt her feelings! I don't care if she doesn't know what that word means. I know what that word means and you're not going to talk to her that way."
Oh, and I like the part where Percy sends a letter to Ron telling him not to talk to Harry anymore. Harry being all like "I've know percy for 4 years. I've spent summers with him. He gave me top marks during the tournament. I shared a tent with him." is really effective and you can feel his hurt so well.
This post is so long lmao. I've left out so many good moments. My point is: read the books! You'll love them.
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like idk. i miss seeing content from s.igne (though i respect gab wholeheartedly). i miss fanart from my favorite artists. i miss older eras of j.se at times (and yes, there were older eras, the way people pretended he Never Changed is just weird). i miss old anti designs. i miss the old fic trends. i miss having a very active fandom (though i am so happy to see the new arrivals) and i miss seeing him interact with fans the way he did on tumblr back in the day. i miss the way i used to interact with some of the blogs here before i decided to fuckin,,, wage holy war and make enemies out of them (joking, but i have seen sides to some of these people that i wish i could tear out of my memory). i miss feeling confident that i could trust the good intentions of people here and even the big man himself (not god. that makes sean sound like god. you know what i mean). i miss when some of you weren't so fucking bitter which is funny because i'm the bitterest bitch alive. idk. i don't think it's bad to miss any of these things because i'm not going to be an ass and act like it's anybody's fault. i'm not going to be bothered by gab for being happy because i'm glad she is happy, and i'm not going to get bothered by sean taking a reasonable step back from this hellsite when people were cruel to him, and i'm not going to get mad at trends for changing because that is how time works. but i do miss things and i know its cringe and parasocial and perhaps even problematic but i hate having to pretend like i never have Any feelings about the past lest i break a hypothetical rule of what is the Normal level of attachment to an online community. okay. i think i'm done now.
#one of my favorite writers left because they couldn't deal anymore and one of my favorite writers turned out to have shit views and one of#my favorite writers left because of something that was partly my fault and one of my favorite writers stopped writing because of two of the#others and one of my favorite writers hurt someone i love over and over and over and one of my favorite writers left because they were the#someone i love. two of the big names hate queer folk that don't align with their ideals and half the artists left for twitter or for dead.#the man himself left because criticism always becomes cruelty and people lie to make themselves feel good.#the editors all turned their accounts private and my favorite told me on livestream that i was good and starting somewhere but then forgot#my name. and i thought maybe i was the bitter one but then i look at some of the other people who have been here so long and wonder why#they even bother anymore because they care more about complaining with everything j.ack does than anyone who actually enjoys his stuff.#and you know i poked fun at *** for a lot of things. some deserved some not. and one of them was the fact that she compared fandom#to warfare. and yes that's still silly i don't think it's a fair comparison but i do know that she wasn't fully wrong.#when you've been here for a long time and ive Been here for a long time you start to get really used to names and faces#and the change can be like waking up to a new wallpaper in your room. not a bad one just a new one.#i don't want to pretend that this fandom is just a silly little hobby for me when lets be honest i know some of yalls personal lives a#little too dearly for that. ive loved people here ive lost people here the first person who showed me this place fucking DIED and i still#lose it sometimes over the fact that he would have loved jameson so much and we couldve been closer friends had he stayed alive a few more#years. so yeah. sorry for being fucking cringy or whatever but there have been times where i've felt like im on a sinking ship watching#everybody else row away and i refuse to go. so like. cool. cool. im glad things are good again but i never really got to process the bad#things.
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yuuji calls sukuna a lot.
it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.
sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.
sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.
"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.
"—'n now i can't finder!"
"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.
"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"
"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.
yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.
"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."
it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.
but tonight's different.
yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.
"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.
the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.
he doesn't see you.
"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.
"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."
yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.
"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.
"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."
sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."
"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.
sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.
"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"
the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.
"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.
as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.
then he sees you.
just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.
sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.
it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.
instead, they meet his.
"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.
sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.
"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.
the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.
"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.
"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.
you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.
"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"
sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.
the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.
"we're very close."
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FULL OF FAN BEHAVIOR
req: Saw your post for smau requests, maybe a Max Verstappen where people don't realise his girlfriends account is you know her official verified account. Because practically every single post is about Max. Full on fan behaviour, in the sense she was his first fan as his childhood friend, she has been there supporting him since they were kids, and now they're adults and together, but some habits doesn't change.
(bonus if the posts makes people question why she choose Max as her mans.)
summary: everybody knows that this account is full of max. from his first win to now, from his most random things to his glory time, she's always there to post his pictures. they only know her as his friend and nothing more, but who is she actually?
2016 - 2018
verstappenight
liked by maxverstappen33, and 1,942 others
verstappenight WOOOO P1🏆🏁 congratulations to you maximus, i'm soo proud of you!
view all 125 comments
maxverstappen33 I won't say anything about the name Maximus, but thank you 😄
danielricciardo Well deserved! 👍🙌
username look how young he is
username I love a supportive fan ^^ Plz post more of this man.
⤷ yourusername glad to be on your service, ma'am
username how old is he?
username He's so happy, he turns red.
username I usually don't trust redbull after Sebastian, but he might be my new exception🤷♀️
verstappenight
liked by danielricciardo, and 1,230 others
verstappenight that eyes glint with mischief. #throwbackthursday
view all 65 comments
maxverstappen33 Oh my god, I thought I trusted you by taking this years ago
⤷ yourusername never trust anyone
username The half smile😂
username He's been pulling the red string with Red Bull from a long time ago, and look at the hat. I bet it's not a coincidence.
username how is she even managed to get this out? this looks so ancient
⤷ username It's not ancient, it's probably old, but not ancient.
danielricciardo He looks like he's planning to steal one of the cars steering wheel
⤷ username exactly! 😂😂
username if it's a throwback, how old is this pic then?
⤷ username i mean he looks way younger than him on her recent post, so just figure it.
⤷ username he always looks younger
verstappenight
liked by victoriaverstappen, and 963 others
verstappenight how is it feel to have a duplicates?
view all 72 comments
maxverstappen33 Why are you taking the second one?
⤷ verstappenight and why are YOU posing to that one?
username Why is he looks younger and younger each time?
⤷ verstappenight i don't know, but i definitely recommend him to have a slug treatment for anti aging.
⤷ username username it's him in torro rosso, so that's why he looks more like a teenager.
username it's not even thursday yet, but i had a bad feeling for this week's throwback thursday.
verstappenight
liked by carlossainz55, and 3,573 others
verstappenight boo! happy halloween #throwbackthursday
view all 269 comments
username what did i say, my feelings are never lying
carlossainz55 Got you! 😆🤣
⤷ maxverstappen1 If I got a heart attack next week, it'll be completely your fault
landonorris is halloween on 29 or 30?
⤷ username depends on what region you're in, i guess?
⤷ landonorris don't guess, answer.
maxverstappen1 And how are you even managed to take this?? Seriously. yourusername
username I can't believe it's actually Carlos who did this
⤷ username Yeah, but I think this is so Carlos-like behavior.
username i would do that face too if someone dressed as scream beside me
username Who is running this fanpage?
username why are you liking him so much?
⤷ yourusername because he is so nice, cool, and he looks like sid from ice age which is my favorite character.
⤷ danielricciardo we got a whole stack of characters here: first we got maximus the horse from tangled, sid from ice age, and then what? jimmy neutron?
username 😂😂😂ajajaja mira su cara!
verstappenight
liked by redbullracing, and 3,782 others
verstappenight found this on twitter and now i can't stop laughing! can't wait to send this to my family group.
view all 90 comments
maxverstappen1 I really can't trust you with my digital footprint 🤦🏻♂️
⤷ verstappenight i found this on twitter alright, it's not taken by me!
⤷ maxverstappen1 Still.
⤷ carlossainz55 Ooh, someone's upset...
username who is this person behind this account?
username Why is his reaction is always looking so hilarious
username Max: 😦
username i feel him
username you sure it's not throwback thursday?
MID 2023
verstappenight
liked by charles_leclerc, and 97,182 others
verstappenight i changed throwback thursday with this questionable sense of max's fashion. hope that's alright.
photo credit via verstauri on twitter.
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username NOOOOOOOOOOOO
username #bringbackthrowbackthursday
charles_leclerc If you get rid of throwback Thursday, how am I going to tease him?
⤷ verstappenight by searching it on pinterest🤷🏻♀️
username Is that real or photoshopped?
username Okay, I know throwback thursday is made a long time ago since 2015 but man I really miss it sm... 💔💔
⤷ verstappenight same, but some people don't need that old max (except for charles). we need the new one because life goes on -max via my message
⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember saying it
⤷ verstappenight shut up
username oh cmon i know charles want it because he's in love with max
⤷ username should i be surprised?
⤷ username i mean if there's no throwback thursday, who's going to tease him with his past when she's not there
⤷ username Daniel and Lando or Y/n could...
⤷ username oh come on, i don't even know who's the person behind this account anyway, for EIGHT YEARS
⤷ username As if you've never heard of twitter, just search her username and you'll see her REAL face.
THE TWEET SHE MEANT:
verstappenight
liked by schecoperez, and 113,809 others
verstappenight guess which one is the real one
view all 462 comments
schecoperez The first one of course!😂🤣
username since when did checos ass becoming that juicy
⤷ username since he listened to daddy yankee's song on repeat
⤷ danielricciardo His actual morning routine:
username the first one because what else would he be doing if not eating omelette and seeing checo's ass in the morning
⤷ username even checo himself agrees
username I'm glad that she still post here, even though there's no throwback thursday anymore😞😔
⤷ username but i guess even though we did not have throwback thursday anymore, we still have this crack post of him😄
TWITTER, 3 DAYS AFTER THE COMMENTS ON VERSTAPPENIGHT'S DADDY POST:
maxverstappen1 added a photo to their story! 2h
ON THE OTHER HAND, HER ACTUAL IG:
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1 and 82,147 others
yourusername good moooorniiiiinggggg from my room<3
view all 97 comments
username Thank God it's not private
username damn yall work faster than the fbi
username Anyone come here from twitter?
username Omg I've never realized max pulled this hottie ever since they were born
username THIS IS VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN?????
⤷ username eight years of waiting is finally getting payed off..
username why are you even choosing max to be your man when there's charles or daniel who's sexier
⤷ yourusername sometimes i don't need looks to see to be having someone like max. he's my best friend first, and i'm glad i choose him right the first place.
⤷ username Oh that's sweet...
⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too, My biggest fan.
⤷ username I LOVE YOU TOO??????💔💔
⤷ username oh my god max is having a REAL relationship with a fan account admin
⤷ username AWOOP🚨🚔 THEIR MEDIUM LAUNCH????
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, and 278,903 others
yourusername nobody knows that this phone addict is once my best friend. happy birthday maximus! 🥳🤍
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landonorris happy birthday facebook dad.
maxverstappen1 I once again not going to take the Maximus name. It makes me feel like a horse from Rapunzel.
⤷ yourusername wait, you've watch tangled before?
danielricciardo Happy birthday, Big boy.
redbullracing Happy birthday to our number one champion! 🥳🥳
username awww baby maxiee🥺🥺🥺
lewishamilton Happy birthday, mate!
carlossainz55 To be honest, your real account is sometimes still kinda feels like your other one.
⤷ yourusername force of habit probably?
⤷ carlossainz55 No, it's because you're acting like Max's biggest fan everywhere.
⤷ maxverstappen1 That's probably because she is.
⤷ yourusername wipe that smug smile off your face while you're typing
username He looks the same weirdly or not
username AHA I FOUND YOU VERSTAPPENIGHT ADMIN
username i love how she just hanging to his arm like they're been a couple since god knows how long
username SHE'S SOO LUCKYYY
username i'm gonna melt
username i feel like it's a hard launch, but she have been doing this for a long time ago
sophiekumpen 🥳🥳🥳
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 How was I going to get her bad side if she's there and looking so beautifully?
👤: yourusername, verstappenight
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landonorris poetic. remember your other girlfriend's waiting
⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't remember having another one?
⤷ charles_leclerc How are you even forget about us?
yourusername awww i can't believe you tag the fan account one too!! i love you so much!!!
⤷ maxverstappen1 I love you too❤️
username #justiceforcharles #lestappenforever
username SHE'S SOOOO CUTE no wonder max pulled her
victoriaverstappen I didn't know you pulled this cutie
⤷ danielricciardo Me too until I found out yesterday at the club
username poetic max is going to be the end of me
username I really had a bad feelings of he becoming poetic and gets all over like this
username Okay, this is max's hard launch. And now I'm waiting for Y/n's
⤷ username i thought she already doing it for so many times at verstappenight? 😏🤭
yourusername
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yourusername 💌
📸: landonorris
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username PARENTS CONFIRMED???
username YESS (adopt me pls)
username is verstappenight still going to be there? let's see for the next two days...
username verstappenight nation how do we feel after this? (we can get a new max pic daily)
username i'm gonna thank lando forever for this
username With the bouquet, the dim light, and the black and white + sepia filters. What are they doin that night?
username AWWW ROMANTIC😍😍
danielricciardo They left Charles in the back that night
⤷ landonorris aww poor him. but anyway...
username how are you converting from lestappen to this one so fast?
TAGLIST @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification
#✶!#max verstappen#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen smau#f1 fluff#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 instagram au
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I've mentioned this thing in tags before but I've decided fuck it, it should be its own post.
I've seen this sentiment lumped into Eat the Rich posts which goes like "if you're worth more than $1 million I think you should die" and I think tumblr users need to know this is not the Eat the Rich statement they think it is.
Someone being worth $1 million doesn't mean what you think it means.
A 71-year-old widow who bought a single-family 2,000 sqft home in Somerville Massachusetts with her husband 40 years ago to raise their family in, who now lives in this home all alone because her children are grown and her husband is dead, is--without a shadow of a doubt--worth more than $1 million. Maybe even $1.5 or $2 million. And it's because of her home equity, because that's what single family homes go for these days in that area.
The 71-year-old widow may be living pension check to pension check, because her millionaire status can only be dipped into if she's removed from her home and sells it. And if it's the home she's loved for 40 years, where she simply wants to live out the rest of her time peacefully in, I wouldn't put her to the guillotine for that.
Maybe that comes off as an extreme example, like that's just an outlier of the "we hate millionaires" agenda. But I don't think it truly is. I'll scale back and tell you the median U.S. home price right now is about $430,000. And that's just median. Half of them are more expensive than that.
The statement "I think people should be able to afford to buy and own the homes they live in" is, I would desperately hope, not a radical statement to anyone on Tumblr. I think that's a pretty well-received idea. So someone who's done that, who's bought their home and worked many years to pay off the mortgage and now owns it fully, is worth close to half a million dollars on average. Many of them more than that, as many areas rapidly gentrify and drive up housing worth.
Statement 2: "I think people deserve to have a retirement fund which would comfortably support them through end of life." Too radical for anyone? I hope not. And I won't pretend to be an expert on how much retirement money is ideal. I'm sure it varies with cost of living in places. But considering this is money which, ideally, should support someone for the remaining 10-20 years of life (money which may be necessary to cover the absolutely crippling medical costs of end-of-life treatment) I'd bet it's well into the many hundreds of thousands. Even if someone was simply living off $30k/year of take home money and just making that work, then 15 years of retirement, costing $30k/year, plus maybe $50k+ of end-of-life medical costs... That's at least $500k.
Which is all to say, if you show me someone approaching retirement age who's "worth" $1 million dollars, my hope would be that their house is paid off and their retirement fund is comfortable. I'd be happy for them. I would want this for them.
Even that may not be true, though. Someone "worth" $1 million maybe owns a paid-off house which has rapidly appreciated to being worth $900k, and their $100k in retirement is something they're trying to stretch through end of life. Maybe someone worth $1 million owns a house which has ballooned to $1.1 million, and they're in fact $100k in debt.
And the fact that SO many Americans will never even meet this bar is significantly more appalling to me than the existence of people worth more than $1 million. "I own my home and can retire comfortably" is a bar we want every American to meet. I want more millionaires who are millionaires because they meet these criteria.
If Nana Somerville's house burns down tomorrow, she'll have lost everything. If a billionaire were to similarly lose $1 million of worth, he would not feel it. That's a fickle day at the stock market. That's Tuesday. That's the rich which desperately needs to be eaten.
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lighting the fuse might result in a bang
pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader
summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?”
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.
“Why aren’t you ready?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.
“Fancy a rematch?”
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.”
“How many beers have you had?”
“Three, I think?”
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.
So you say it anyway.
“I bet I could outdrink you.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?”
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”
“Are you going to?”
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?”
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes.
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.
“You ever blown a smoke ring?”
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.
“We can share.”
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.
“You’re on, Castellan.”
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore.
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”
“I know you hooked up with Luke.”
“Seriously?”
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan x you#🖊️ abi writes…
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UNDELIVERED❞ - aventurine
summary: his voicemail is full of messages, all from you, never to be heard
warnings: reader is gn, spoilers for the 2.1 penacony quest, angst, hurt/no comfort
notes: like genuinely i am not able to write for him anymore, i’m so sorry if this sucks or anything i’ve been suffering writers block for the longest time 😭
i saw the prettiest gemstones just now, but they couldn’t match the hue of your eyes. i know people belittle you for it, but i think they’re really beautiful, like all of you. i know you’re probably busy right now. i’ll wait for you to come back before telling you about my day, and you can tell me about yours. do you want to play a few rounds before turning in? i love you.
(played)
thanks for the gift; you seriously didn’t have to. i know you only came to penacony for business, and you didn’t have to take me along either. i’ll make it up to you, i swear. how about a date once you finish work? i heard about this casino; there’s this hotshot there that you might enjoy wiping the floor with. what do you say? see you later. i love you.
(played)
i know something's off, and you’re not telling me about it. where did you go just now? you promised we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other, but you’ve been hiding something the whole time we’ve been here. i’m not angry; i just…i just want you to be open with me. is that so bad? call me back as soon as you can. i love you.
(played)
i’m sorry i yelled at you; your plan wasn’t something… i could agree with, i don’t care if ratio agrees to it. we can work this out; you don’t have to do this alone. just come back, and maybe we can find a better solution. love you.
(played)
i know that i apologized, but it’s not in the way you think it is; maybe it wasn’t even directed at our argument. not sorry, like, "oh, i pity your upbringing," but more of, "sorry for thinking that we could and sorry that we ever tried (to work)." that sounds mean. maybe it is. i could never heal you from the wounds inflicted by your past; they were always too deep to fill up. and i know i wasn’t the best person for you to choose as your second half; why did you do it? why did you pick me out of everyone else? why did you think i was deserving enough of your affection?
look, i know you don't want to talk to me right now. i wouldn't want to either. but i really want this to work out in your favor. i know that i’m being selfish by wanting you even when i can’t. is it wrong to be selfish just this once if it means you’ll live?
yell at me and throw things and scream that i’m as bad as a person like those who hurt you, perhaps even more for knowing that you were hurting and i did it anyway. i don't care. but please don't ignore me. i would rather bleed myself dry for you than be forgotten. i know that nothing i say will change the past; what's done is done. but we can change the future. i don’t want to lose you, not in a million years, in another life, or in any other universe.
we can solve this, find a better alternative, and i can leave afterwards if that’s what you really want. if you can pretend that we’re okay just for a little bit—if you can talk to me one more time—i promise i’ll leave you alone. i promise i’ll never call you again or anything. please call me back. i love you so.
(played)
it’s been seventeen system hours, where are you?
(undelivered)
you’re joking, right? a grand performance? is this just another one of your pranks? there’s no way you- *cuts off*
(undelivered)
you did it, didn’t you? was it worth it?
(undelivered)
hey, please. please come back. i’m sorry. i’ll do anything to have you by my side. don’t leave me alone. please. i can’t live with myself knowing that the last words I said to you face-to-face were “i hate you.” i don’t hate you; i could never hate you. i’d hate the whole world before i could ever do that. please pick up. i love you please.
(undelivered)
it’s pathetic for me to keep calling you over and over again, thinking you’d pick up. maybe some part of me does, or i just want to hear the sound of your voicemail. i hate you; maybe i do hate you. i hate you for leaving me behind and making me think that maybe this would all work out.
(undelivered)
do you think it would have been any different? is it cruel of me to want you when you have never wanted anything else but this? you don’t have to come back as a ghost to haunt me when i’m haunted by everything because it reminds me of you. i can see you in front of me, always protecting me, but never once doing so for yourself. i can hear your laugh—your real laugh, not one of falsehood. i used to draw stars around your scars, didn’t i? but i was the cause of them bleeding you out before you...you’re gone now.
(undelivered)
i miss you. i’m sorry for what i said, and it’s too late now anyway. i won’t be able to forget you, like you told me to. they say that the brain can’t tell whether something is real or a dream, so i’d always believe this horrid dream, even if you’re not here anymore. i think of you all the time now that you’re gone. will you think of me up there?
(undelivered)
*static before it cuts off.*
(undelivered)
i hate the phrase ‘till death do us part’ because even after death, i would still love you. i’ll always be here right where you left me, waiting for you to come home even though i know you won’t.
(undelivered)
sweet dreams. i love you, kakavasha.
(undelivered)
© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION
#🖋️ - short snippets#—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x reader#hsr x you#aventurine x reader#aventurine x you#aventurine angst#hsr angst
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☆ our teachers are gay?!
gojo satoru x male reader [he / him]
sypnosis: you and gojo are both teachers at tokyo jujutsu high. your students start catching up on little things about the two of you, coming to a conclusion that their teachers are gay, but is that the truth? (meant to be viewed as romantic, hints at an established relationship.)
the lowercase is intentional !
satoru and [name] had been teaching at tokyo jujutsu high for a few years now. the two have made memories, had laughs and even arguments during the time. the students loved their teachers, always finding them amusing.
this years first years were a first, though.
"he's definitely gay!" a student yells. "no, he's not! he definitely has a wife and two kids!" another student yells. the person that they were talking about? [name]. itadori and nobara were arguing about whether or not they thought their teacher was gay for their other teacher or not, whilst megumi just sat there listening to their bickering. nobara thought [name] was gay, whereas itadori thought he wasn't.
megumi just sat there, listening to his friends arguing. it was constant, but he knew it was just banter after all. megumi had a small smirk on his face as he listened.
megumi knew the truth, well, half of the truth. he knew of gojo's feelings towards [name], but he never knew of [name]'s feelings towards gojo. megumi and gojo were practically father and son, not that megumi would admit that, so he could tell how gojo felt. megumi was the only reserved first year, so he learnt to pick up on people's emotions and feelings quickly, which included gojo's.
it was clear, by megumi's perception of the world, that gojo was definitely into [name]. gojo always tried to, and not so subtly in fact, flirt with [name]. yet, it always ended up in [name] saying a bunch of curses with a red face. maybe [name] did like gojo back? but, how was megumi going to know? he's not [name] and maybe the red face megumi always saw was just his teacher embarrassed, not flustered.
megumi also noticed how close the two teachers were. there were always together eating lunch or talking or supervising training sessions where they also talked more. perhaps it was because they could only talk to eachother, they were the only teachers there excluding the principal. or.. maybe it was something else? it did seem like there was more of a rivalry going on between the two men in megumi's eyes, but who knew. only gojo and [name] did.
a certain someone clears their throat after hearing all the bickering down the corridor. "and what are you three talking about?" the voice asks, and it just so happens to be gojo. itadori and nobara are in big trouble now.
itadori looks at gojo in horror, already accepting that he's been caught. nobara just looks at gojo with a small, innocent smile, hoping itadori won't mess up and say something wrong.
"uhm.. we were just talking about [name]'s love life-" itadori starts before nobara jabs him in the stomach to get him to shut up. "we were discussing what places we can visit in tokyo during our days off!" nobara cut in. gojo had a smirk plastered on his face. it was so obvious that he knew the truth about what they were talking about.
megumi sighed and he rolled his eyes at his two friends. "you idiots.. look at his face. he knows what you two were talking about." megumi muttered under his breath, shaking his head at how stupid his friends were. "plus.. his six eyes probably sensed you guys were talking about [name] anyway." megumi decides to add his own snarky comment.
"ah, so my suspicions were true." gojo chuckled. "if you really want to find out more about [name], why don't you ask him yourselves? although, he'd probably want to punch me if you told him i suggested the idea.." gojo spoke his thoughts aloud.
as if on queue, [name] steps into the room with a confused look on his face. "what are you all standing around here for? i thought training was meant to start ten minutes ago.." he sighed, a hand resting on his hip. the three first years all look at eachother before rushing out of the room to go to the field.
[name] just shook his head as he watched his students leave. "what were you doing in here with them, satoru? because it definitely wasn't reminding them that training was about to start." [name] said, looking at gojo as he spoke. gojo just shrugged at [name]'s question, starting to follow the first years out to the field.
the first years quickly got to training. they were practicing their cursed technique skills and hand to hand combat whilst [name] and gojo kept a close eye. the two teachers were standing close together, smiling as they occasionally made small talk.
"so, what about that date i was talking about earlier?" gojo pipes up, smiling at [name]. [name] just scoffed in response, punching gojo in the shoulder. "don't ask me about dates whilst we're infront of our students, satoru." [name] chuckled and gojo joined in.
gojo then snaked an arm around [name]'s waist, pulling him in closer and giving him a small kiss on the forehead. "okay, okay. but we're still going on that date after work, right?" gojo asks. "you're not helping yourself!" [name] replies, pushing gojo away with a huge smile on his face.
of course, the three first years saw this play out. when gojo and [name] thought they were being so subtle, they were caught in the act. the three first years stopped what they were doing and stared at their teachers in shock.
gojo and [name] just watched their students with smiles on their faces. gojo still had his arm wrapped around [name]'s waist as he pulled his lover in for a kiss, not caring about their students. they had already been caught, so what was the harm in sharing a kiss in the end?
"see! i told you he's gay! you owe me big time, itadori!" nobara yells out, starting to chase itadori around the field.
☆ author's note: ill try get requests done soon, sorry if you're waiting on one. do request some more, i have barely any ideas of my own.
☆ request ▪︎ masterlist
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x male reader#gojo x male reader#x male reader#gay#foryou#x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen season 2#jujutsu kaisen x male reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x male reader#gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#satoru x reader#tokyo trio
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Alpha gojo x omega male reader
Theme is angest and fluff
Reader and gojo were high school sweet hearts and on thier final year reader got knocked up by gojo and on his way to tell gojo there was a misunderstanding which leds to them breaking up and reader taking the unborn kids (twins because why not) and after a few years gojo finds him with the kids and they reconnect after the misunderstanding was cleared up if that's alright with you
Also can you not make reader submissive and shy, I don't like it when omegas are like that
Wow! Most detailed request but coming up!!
Warnings: misunderstandings, mpreg, omegaverse, angst, rushed. Miscommunication
"Standing Next to you"
20■■
(Name) was on the train coming back from Kyoto.
To say there was a lot on his mind was an understatement was…undermining it.
'This fucking blows'.
(Name) looked at the omega across from him sitting in the reserved seating for pregnant people, looking at his flat stomach he cringed.
'You're like an alien…. A parasite'.
(Name) was only a few weeks along, has he been to a doctor? No. But he did spend all day in Kyoto praying for a sign to tell him what he should do.
He could he a responsible adult and tell his mate that he was pregnant but in his teenage mind that's something that was off the table or too far out of reach.
He did want to tell Satoru but knowing the Gojo clan, they would want him to abort anyway.
That's where (name) was conflicted, he didn't want a pup but it was his damn choice if he wanted to abort, why should he listen to a bunch of betas and alphas tell him what to do?.
"Next stop Nagoya"
He still had four more hours to think.
(Name) arrived at his dorm pretty late, surprisingly, Satoru was there, fuming.
"Where were you?".
"Out?".
Satoru crossed his arms, "Out?".
"Yeah".
Satoru stared down (Name) who was trying to take off his shoes before he came inside the room.
"Where were you all day? You never answered your phone".
(Name) shrugged his shoulders, "It died".
"Really?"
"Yeah, I forgot to charge it". In reality, whenever (Name) saw Satoru's name pop up on his flip he felt like vomiting.
Satoru sighed, "I feel like as your mate I have a right to know-"
"I'm not going to talk to you when you treat me like this". (Name) rolled his eyes, throwing his keys onto the counter, and walking away.
Satoru followed the omega into their shared room, "Like what?"
"You're talking down at me. Treating me like a child".
"Well, you're acting like a child!"
"Me? I'm acting like a child?"
"Yes! You just go out and don't talk to me anymore! I was worried-"
(Name) closed and locked the bathroom door, staring into the toilet bowl, "Maybe because I am a child? So are you Satoru, are you forgetting that we are 3rd years? Haven't even-".
'I'm going to vomit'
"Stop! I'm not arguing with you! You need to tell me where you're going all day!". Satoru's voice was filled with worry, he sounded like he was genuinely hurt.
"I don't think I have to tell you anything!".
'I'm so sorry Satoru'
There was silence between the two, The dim kitchen light glowed softly in the background.
"Maybe… we should take a break".
'It's for the best this way'
***
Shoko awkwardly rubbed the omega's back, as he vomited.
"There…. There"
(Name) gasped before dry heaving.
'This is worst'
Shoko lit a cigarette in the cheap apartment bathroom, "So… are you telling him? You know being with your mate will help with-".
"No".
(Name) was quick to move out of the dorm and drop out. It's been…a few long terrible weeks without Satoru; his mate, his better half, his everything.
Shoko sighed, "I would recommend a patch that you put on your mating mark to help with separation sickness but I'm pretty sure that will fuck up the pup".
(Name) laid against the cool wall, huffing and panting as sweat dropped from his forehead, ".... I will…go through the pain if it means staying away from Satoru… I will just-".
Shoko tossed him a water bottle, "I don't need your sob story, gosh, you sounded like Suguru when he was going through his separation sickness". Shoko sighed, putting out her cigarette and flushing it down the toilet.
Shoko pinched her nose, "Listen as a"
"You're not a doctor"
"Yet".
"Just… tell him. He would understand, he cares about you. And you damn well know it. Hell you two are mated, you're stuck together-".
Shoko looked at (name) with wide eyes.
"Please tell me you are hoping he just gets a mark removal surgery".
"I heard his clan would-"
"Fuck his clan are you fucking insane? Do you wanna drop? You'll kill your pups-"
"Fuck Shoko! I know! Fuck I know" (Name) cried, no sobbing.
"No, snap out of it! Do you think you can raise pups alone! Fuck in this shit hole? How can you raise them if you're fucking dropping!"
"Fucking! I know! I don't know what else to do Shoko! We are 17!! I don't want to burden anyone!! I can't!".
"You're not alone! Stop acting like it! Satoru fucking begs me to tell him where you are at! Stop pushing us away!".
(Name) sobbed into his knees, "I don't need saving. I can do this!".
"I'm getting Satoru".
Present
That was the last time anyone really saw (Name).
It's been two years.
Shoko didn't have the heart to tell Satoru that his missing mate was pregnant, hell she didn't need to see another one of her friends drop and die.
Satoru had eyes and noses everywhere looking for his mate, he didn't really give up.
Well, until today.
Satoru's eyes went wide when he saw two white headed pups run up to him. Yapping away about the similarities between the three of them.
"My! My!!"
"Dammy!"
The two twins grabbing his long legs.
Satoru felt a sob in his throat when he saw his long lost mate few feet away from him.
Oh how he glowed.
Oh how he aged.
He was still beautiful.
Why was he wearing a scent patch?
Why did he look unhappy to see him?
Why did Satoru's heart crushed?
(Name) called the twins names over to him.
'Aoto and Shuto'
"My pups?" Satoru begged, he was pleading, his heart bleeding with sadness.
(Name) was obviously hesitant before nodding.
Satoru felt a sob exit his chest before crushing the three in a hug.
The four of them had dinner at Satoru's home, Satoru didn't want them out of his sight.
Satoru had the twins on both sides of his neck, letting them rest on his glands as he scent bonded them as they slept.
"Why did you keep this from me?".
"I was… scared of you turning me down so I wanted to speed up the progress".
"I would never turn this down…. (Name)... you're my mate… these were my pups".
"I know your clan-".
"I've.. disowned that, this is my clan…" gesturing towards the twins.
The two sat in silence.
Satoru sighed, "I want to make this work, but you need therapy, we need couples counseling… I still love you and I want to work this out".
(Name) nodded.
"I love you too".
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it's a story about hands (reprise)
Yeah, okay, today's the day.
I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.
Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.
Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.
I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.
The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.
It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…
…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.
Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:
Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.
Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound.
The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:
As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,
…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?
This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.
It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.
Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.
As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.
I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.
#lin speaks#bnha meta#bnha manga#bnha 419#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#bakudeku#bkdk#dekubaku#dkbk
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Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.
Word count: 2,072
Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years
Master list link:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Make You Wish Master List
A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.
Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.
Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.
"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"
Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.
"Yes, we will." she confirmed.
"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."
"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."
"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."
Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.
"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."
He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.
"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.
"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."
"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"
"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."
"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.
"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"
Alastor's grin widened.
"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."
"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.
Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.
"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.
"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"
"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.
"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.
"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.
He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.
"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"
He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.
"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."
Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.
"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."
"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.
"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"
"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.
----
"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."
Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.
"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.
The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.
"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.
"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"
Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.
"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.
Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.
"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"
"Yeah?" Husk grunted.
"Where did you say she was again?"
"I didn't."
Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.
"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.
Husk sighed.
"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."
"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.
"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."
"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."
Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.
"Alastor, ju-"
Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.
"Best of luck, chums!"
"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.
Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.
Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.
Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.
"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.
"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.
"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"
With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.
Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.
There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?
----
Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.
Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.
The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.
She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.
"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."
Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.
"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.
"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.
"Get your ass out here!"
"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"
"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.
If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.
"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."
----
Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor fanfiction#radio demon#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#x reader#x you#x reader one shot#x reader fanfiction#x reader writer#requests open#chapter two#make you wish
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parent trap
author's note: while i do enjoy watching football, do not ask me any rules, i'm a newbie and I'll write whatever even if it's a little delulu thanks :) also this is more of an introduction for what i want to do next and i struggled so much with it, not knowing where to start so im sorry. it's also my first fic so pls don't be mean 😭
summary: in which two little girls unexpectedly come into yours and leah's life and decide to turn it all around with some mischief in the way (and maybe with a little help from kyra)
it was a nice sunny day out. mornings were a bit chilly but for london weather, it was surprisingly tolerable. you had come to work today, knowing you were gonna have some visits to do around the farm to some kids, as your surpervisor had given you a heads up the days before. your farm slash retreat slash sanctuary was situated in a calm area, far from the city noises and it was very big on raising awareness to people, often having visits from schools and groups of scouts, etc.
today you were having a nearby school visit. you and your co-workers were going to be separated into groups so you could show the kids all the animals and activities they could do.
luckily, when the group of 5-8 year olds came by, you were assigned with a small group that was relatively quiet but very interested in what you had to show them and very eager to answer some of your 'trivia' questions about the animals. two little girls, who were very obviously twins, clung a little bit more towards you throughout the visit and while one was more shy to ask you questions, the other one was enthusiastic about giving answers.
by lunchtime, you and your co-workers gathered all of the kids in the canteen for a much needed break.
in the afternoon, you gathered your group on a table outside, so you could explain what the next part was. "okay, so who wants to feed our little goats?" you said, with a smile and enthusiasm for their obvious answers. "i want to feed tigers!" one of the twins, alba, exclaimed. you opened your mouth in fake shock and put your hands on your hips "did you see any tigers around here, miss alba?" she excitedly nodded. "well I'm sorry to burst your little bubble but we've got no tigers here. what you probably saw was
oscar, our very grumpy orange cat." she pouted but quickly recovered her giddiness when you all walked towards the goats.
about half an hour later, the groups were dispersing a bit and some kids from your group ran to other kids to help them with other activities they were doing. you were trying not to laugh when you saw some of your colleagues trying to control some of the most energetic children when you felt a little tug on your shirt.
you looked down to see one of the twins, aurora, "y/n, is it true the arsenal team plays around here?" she asked quietly, with a shy smile on her face. you crouched down to her height and alba joined in on your little group. you were about to answer when alba quickly whispered "can we go see them??". you chuckled "let me check with my boss and your teachers, yeah? but you gotta keep it a secret from your friends, okay? or else everyone will want to go and right now, that's not possible." they both pretended to zip their mouths and nodded.
after you got the approval from their teachers and your supervisor to take them away for a little while, with a warning to not cause too much trouble, you signaled to the two girls to come after you. you walked out of the farm and they both stood on your sides holding your hands. it was about a 5 minute walk from your little farm to the arsenal training grounds, you knew the girls quite well as they were regular visitors and have done some charity work for the farm so visiting each others' work place to hang out in your free time wasn't uncommon.
"who are you guys excited to meet?" you smiled down at them. "all of them!" they both answered and you were a little surprised at aurora's raise of voice but happy she was feeling more comfortable around you. you had worked with many kids over the years but there were always ones that, for some reason, tugged at your soft heart and these two little girls had done it today.
as you reached arsenal's training centre, you smiled and greeted the staff as you moved with the girls towards the field you knew the girls were at.
the first person to caught your eye was obviously your big crush, leah williamson, who was sipping on some water as you approached her. "hey, williamson!" you kicked her butt with your foot since your hands were still holding the twins. that startled her and she turned around with a frown on her face, "hey!" she argued, but her frown quickly dissipated when she saw it was you and pushed you playfully. "asshole." "leah!" you quickly gestured to the girls with your head.
"oh, sh–, sorry!" she grimaced as the little girls looked at each other and giggled. you rolled your eyes at leah and introduced them, "leah, this is aurora," you raised the little blonde's hand on your left "and this is alba" who raised her spare hand immediately with a toothy grin.
leah leaned down with a smile on her face "hi, i'm leah, nice to meet you" they both blushed, intimidated by being right in front of england's captain but their shyness quickly went away when leah asked if they wanted to meet everybody. they quickly nodded with excitement and the blonde led them to meet the rest of team.
you sat on the benches as you watched them all interact, the twins thrilled to meet some of their favourite players. you knew they were in good hands, so you shifted your gaze to leah, who had the biggest smile on her face as she got to play some football with the children.
"staring, are we?" you jumped a bit as kyra sat down next to you with a smirk on her face. you rolled your eyes "uhh, in case you haven't noticed, kyra cooney-cross, i'm keeping an eye out for those under my care." she rolled her eyes at you using her full name, it was a joke between you two when you wanted to annoy each other, but went back to teasing you "oh, i think your eyes are out for someone else y/f/n." "oh, and i think you're supposed to be training, not here biting my ass." she groaned and leaned on your shoulder, "but it's so much fun to annoy you" you smiled at your best friend and tugged on her hair bun. "go meet some people your age" you headed towards the twins and let out a little laugh as she pushed you. "i can't help annoying someone when they're so annoyingly in lo– ah!" you quickly elbowed her as you saw leah running over to you two.
"are you two fighting again?" leah raised her eyebrow with an amused smile on her face. "no, i'm doing you all a favour and putting her in her place." you said, shoving kyra as she stuck her tongue out at you. "i'm off to meet my fans, excuse you." kyra stands up and runs over to the small blondes playing with alessia and katie but not before winking at you behind leah's back.
"they are absolutely lovely." leah chuckled as she turns back to you. "right?? honestly, some of my favourite kids to come by the farm." "maybe it's because they kind of look like me." leah smirked and you couldn't help but scoff, "oh please, you wish you were that cute." she huffed and put her hands on your knees, leaning towards your face to bite the tip of your nose, a habit she learned from kyra in her many tactics to annoy you. you scrunched your nose and pretended to be annoyed by it, hiding how much you wanted leah to bite you basically everywhere and anywhere. in a way, you wish she knew how she made your heart almost combust with the amount of physical touch she was prone to giving you, maybe she would be kind enough to put you out of your misery. however, you couldn't help but crave these little moments, you would take anything leah would give you, even if it meant keeping your feelings to yourself and being content with being just friends.
that moment didn't last long as you both turned your heads behind leah's back when you heard a little scream and you saw kyra, alessia and katie on the ground checking up on aurora. you and leah quickly ran over to see what happened and saw aurora had scraped her knee. leah asked someone to get the first aid kit to disinfect the wound and turned back to aurora to rub her back and console her. "hey little one, how are you feeling?" you asked softly, but she was quick to put on a brave face and say she was fine. "you sure? we can call your parents to come get you if you want." you said, wanting to make sure the twin felt comfortable and safe.
"we don't have parents." alba said nonchalantly while holding aurora's hand. that caught you and the girls around you off guard. "what do you mean, alba?" you frowned in confusion. "we live in a foster home!" the little girl exclaimed as alessia came over with the first aid kit and gave it to leah, who started to disinfect aurora's knee. "ohhh… in that case, i can call your carers if you want." "that's okay, it doesn't hurt that bad." aurora gave you a smile that only grew bigger when leah gave her a high five and praised how brave she was.
soon enough it was time to go back to the farm with the girls as the school was about to leave. the team said their goodbyes and the twins thanked them all, still mesmerized by getting to play with them for a bit. as you returned with them to the farm, they both hugged you and thanked you too for taking them to meet the team. you were a bit caught off guard but quickly melted and rubbed their little heads. you felt a weird pang in your heart as you watched them leave but just brushed it off as you being emotional and went on with the rest of your day.
quickly after that encounter though, the twins did not take much long to appear again at the farm. they became regular visitors and your bond grew stronger, often taking them to see arsenal and the team quickly became used to them as well. it was also not a surprise to anybody that when the girls were around, you and leah stepped up as the responsible figures for them, always making sure they were fine and always the ones they came to when they needed something.
one afternoon, after work, you had taken the girls to the training centre and they were playing with kyra as you were talking to leah. "you know you shouldn't cut your hair right after you have a bad game, right?" you giggled as you flicked the strands of her new fringe. "hey! it is not because we had a bad game. i am a fashion trender. i make things a trend." she took off her head band to fluff her fringe with her hands and posed for you.
"riiiight, i almost forgot you were 'the powerful, the brilliant, the leah williamson'" she was quick to give you a mocking smile, clearly displeased with the overused quote. "well yes, i am brilliant and powerful but you can't deny i have an amazing fashion sense!" "i don't think impulsively getting a haircut after a bad game falls into that category, though" you couldn't help but giggle at her frown. soon, she took matters into her own hands and grabbed your waist to start tickling you at your sides, something that made you squeal and try to get away from her, screaming for help. "stop screaming, you baby!" she stopped the tickling but pulled you in close to kiss the top of your head.
meanwhile, kyra, alba and aurora had stopped their game and were watching you and leah interact. "are they girlfriends?" aurora asked kyra. kyra looked down at them and shook her head "as much as it pains me to say, no, they aren't." alba quickly looked at aurora with a mischievous smile in her face.
"you're thinking what i'm thinking?"
"i'm thinking what you're thinking."
a/n: also if you want to send in some requests regarding this fic, you're welcome to do so :)
#leah williamson#leah williamson x reader#leah williamson imagine#woso x reader#woso imagine#leah williamson fic#woso fanfics
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We're going to scream about Nandermo all week, but right now I need to talk about Baron Afanas. Because the Baron's arc, so to speak, always felt like a big part of the series DNA for me - and oh fuck did this episode deliver on why.
I think we can agree: in the show, vampire society is fucked up, right?
Vampires on their own have plenty to deal with that can make them crazy. They have to live by killing. They lose everyone from their old lives. They have to find new reasons to keep going on, forever, so shit can get decadent really fast.
But holy shit, what that's turned into in vampire society? Where you actively put cruelty over mercy, and violence over solving your problems? Death cults and scam artists roam free, but if someone has depression the best thing to do is ignore them. Someone can get their mind wiped or be locked up for centuries, and that's just what you do to your species.
--
So: the Baron's arrival is the first conflict of the whole show. The joke is about an ancient powerful creature of pants-shitting terror, vs three lesser vampires who just want to live their lives and not get murdered for being too lazy to conquer humanity. There's a lot of talk about how to please him: do you keep to the old ways, or pick up some new traditions? Decorate with flayed skin, or with glitter? And the Baron says: who cares, you're all soft and useless. All that matters is getting more control over this world, until people are cattle and we have no reason to hide anymore.
But later he confesses: that shit stopped mattering ages ago. He's not even real nobility, he's literally impotent, and he talks about doing horrible things because he doesn't know what else to say. He's angry and half-crazy from boredom. And admitting that, owning those feelings, means suddenly he has three new friends and a whole new world of things to enjoy.
There's the Baron the rest of the vampire world knows, but for one night we see the ancient, unknowable terror was just a guy. Maybe he's always been just some guy.
That fun puts him in a vulnerable position, and he's killed by the most unwitting vampire slayer in fiction. But Baron Afanas is changed. He sucks dirt for a year and still comes out of it with a new lightness and joy to him. He saves the Sire, another ancient terrifying monster everyone was eager to kill or send away. They adopt the hellhound. They get cozy and give advice. They make popsicle stick houses and go on walks. They live.
And that seemed like the end of the story until last night - when the Baron suddenly felt like the butt of a joke everyone knew but him. Spurred on by someone else who feels lonely and ignored, the Baron felt vulnerable. And he snapped back to how he lived for centuries.
'What the hell are you all doing, enjoying yourselves? We're supposed to be unhappy. We're supposed to live centuries of unhappiness, bringing pain to everyone in our path, and we're definitely not supposed to cheer up our friend who's sad.'
--
Nobody liked the Baron before Guillermo killed him, not even other powerful vampires we meet; they saw the Baron as a crazy far beyond their own crazy. But this is also how vampire society values you. It's how they measure Nandor's worth when they think he's dead, too: how old and powerful you are, how much you've been able to conquer and kill.
Vampire pods are both cliquish and aren't expected to last in the first place. If someone dies, you literally paint them out of your lives and forget. Everything we see discourages feelings, sincerity, or even basic companionship. The only way to earn respect is to be cruel. The more cruel you are, the more powerful you are. The more powerful you are, the more feared you are - the lonelier you are, the crazier you are. It's practically designed to create the Baron, or worse.
But new vampires don't behave that way. And the vampires we follow in the show don't behave that way - because they have each other, because they've been encouraged to have each other, often by Guillermo. (Holy shit, Nadja saying maybe she'd be fine dying, and Nandor immediately asking if she's okay? Nothing changes in this house, except everything does. They're not going to almost lose one of their own ever again.)
The vampires in the heart of vampire culture never seem happy to be like this. It doesn't have to be like this.
--
The Baron doesn't become a tyrannical monster for long. Because he never actually was one - and because he spends two evenings and a fireball to the face, watching Nandor and Nadja fight for Guillermo. Watching them plead and cling and defy, seeing Guillermo's earnest feelings in spite of his bloodline and the mistakes he's made. Seeing Nandor's perfect trust, and then his grief, the way he insists that Guillermo was never 'just' anything. The Baron can't find real fulfillment in hurting someone (because that ship sailed ages ago). He can't deride them for caring, because he's cared for a long time now.
And when the Baron admits that's who he is, when he says it out loud, he only gains more in his life. He finds new depth in the happiness he'd felt for a while now, because he's admitted and allowed himself to be happy. And now he has the children he's always wanted. Living together, the Baron and the Sire are still ancient and powerful - and they're also family, finding real joy together in a world that was ready to dispose of them.
"I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence."
--
There's an inherent selfishness to being a vampire, taking from someone else in order to live. But there doesn't have to be inherent cruelty, or lack of love.
They're all ready to admit they care. The Staten vampires have all cared for Guillermo or each other in their own ways this season. And Guillermo doesn't lack for flaws, but loving his monster family has never been one of them. (When he and Nandor work their shit out, they're gonna be insufferable.)
Now they just have to let the Guide in. Because she's absolutely starved for love, and vampires get pretty fucked up when they're on their own.
#fandom: wwdits#what we do in the shadows#wwdits#i am a meta gremlin#baron afanas#tl;dr i am a sucker for choosing love#especially when the world around you says it's stupid or you're not allowed#but love was always in you so it happens anyway
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Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.
A little background first:
I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.
This is about one such customer.
This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.
Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.
Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.
Fast forward to today.
I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.
I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.
I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.
I was not prepared. At all.
This is the gift...
...the card (no writing on the front).....
.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.
......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.
This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.
If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.
(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)
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It's the third day in a row that Wayne Munson has seen the girl in the diner.
Usually, he doesn't pay attention to new faces. He's been frequenting the diner for some years now and there's often ones he doesn't recognise: people passing through Hawkins, visiting family, etc.
The girl has caught his attention, though. She's sitting tucked into the far corner of the diner, a glass of water in front of her and nothing else. She's wearing the same t-shirt and flannel shirt she'd been wearing yesterday, and the day before, he's pretty sure. She didn't order any food yesterday; she hasn't ordered any food today.
Bev likes to joke he has a sense for kids who need help. Says there's an alarm in his head that makes him worry himself sick whenever there's a waif in need.
She's sitting next to him now, one eyebrow raised. He sighs. Waif in need alarm, indeed.
"What's the deal with the kid?" he murmurs, nodding subtly in the girl's direction.
Bev shrugs. "Beats me. That's Robert's girl, that's all I know."
He frowns. "Robert?"
"Nurse. Took good care of me when my knee went bad." She takes a swig of coffee, her eyes going sad. "Died, oh, maybe eight months back."
Wayne looks back at the girl. She's staring down at her half-empty glass of water. Tucked under the table there's a bulky-looking backpack.
"She got family?"
"Just her mother, far as I know. Met her a couple of times, too. 'Nother nurse. Seems nice enough."
"Hmph." Wayne turns back to his coffee. Ain't his business, he tells himself firmly. He should focus on his lunch.
When he gets up to pay, he glances once more in the girl's direction. He'll give it a couple of days, he decides. If she's still here then, still in the same clothes, he'll see if she's alright.
—
Wayne doesn't even last the day.
He's on his way home from work when he sees movement in a phonebox on the side of the road. The road's empty aside from him, and it's raining, and the sky's getting dark, so it immediately strikes him as odd. When he sees it's the teenage girl from earlier, he nearly crashes his truck with how hard he hits the brakes.
She's huddled down in the phonebox, clasping the backpack he'd noticed. She looks sodden. It had been raining heavier earlier; from the looks of it, she'd been caught in it. Her hair's plastered to her face and she's shivering.
He's winding down his window before his brain's even caught up to the movement. He's actually not sure how to go about it, very conscious of the fact that it's just the two of them out here and she's a teenage girl while he's an old man.
Feeling very much like he's approaching a wild animal, he clears his throat. "You okay, miss?"
The girl jumps, her head jerking up. She looks at him with wild eyes, wide and afraid. She reminds him of Eddie the day he showed up on his doorstep, timid and small.
"I'm f—fine." Her teeth chatter as she speaks. Where is this girl's mother? Where are her guardians?
"You need to call someone? I got a couple o'quarters, I think."
She shakes her head. Wayne frowns. Something ain't sitting right with him.
"You waiting on your ma?"
To his horror, her face crumples, and she buries her face in her arms. He's out of the truck like a shot, rushing over to find her shoulders heaving.
"Now, now—" He's panicking, admittedly. She can't be much younger than Eddie is.
"She—She—" the girl sobs. "She kicked me out and I—I don't have anywhere to go and it's so cold and wet and—and—"
A bout of rage washes over him. He pushes it down, tugging his jacket off and draping it over her shoulders. It doesn't have a hood, but it's dry. Christ, she must be soaked to the bone.
"Listen," Wayne starts, hesitating almost immediately. It's an insane suggestion from a strange man; he doesn't want to scare her off, but he doesn't want her spending the night in this phonebox, either. "I got a kid about your age. My Eddie. You come to mine and we can get you sorted out, okay? Or—Or I can find you a motel room, or something."
Sniffling, the girl looks up at him, wrapping herself up in his jacket. "Is that... is that okay?"
His heart breaks. "Yeah. Yeah, 'course."
She stands, wobbly, still clutching her backpack. She's soaked through like he'd thought, and she shivers once she's in the front seat. He's quick to turn the heating up, starting the truck again, and for a moment he's furious: her immediate agreement, the lack of hesitation about getting into a vehicle with a strange man, makes him boil with hatred towards this girl's mother.
The journey's quiet and, thankfully, not too long. Wayne ushers her into the trailer, already preparing to make a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Eddie's out at Jeff's for band practice, so he says, but Wayne knows him well enough to know he'll come home stinking of weed.
The girl stands awkwardly in the living room, still shivering. It occurs to him, suddenly, that he doesn't even know her name.
Still. An issue for later. He focuses on the hot chocolate. Once it's ready, he hands it over to her, and doesn't miss how eagerly she accepts it.
Only then does he broach the subject. "What's your name, miss?"
She's quiet a moment, cradling the mug in her hands. "It's Robin. Uh, Robin, sir."
"None of that 'sir' business," he says gruffly. "Name's Wayne. Eddie'll be home later but you can have his bed if you need a place to stay for the night."
This might be the most he's spoken in years, trying desperately to come across as reassuring. It breaks his heart how trusting she's being, though.
"Thank you." Robin goes quiet, her fingers curling around the handle of the mug. "I, um, I can pay you back for the ride—"
He waves a hand, frowning. "None of that. I'd like to think if it were my Ed in your shoes, someone would be there for him like this."
She manages a small smile. She's still in her soaking clothes. He hustles over to Eddie's room, raiding the drawers for whatever looks most comfortable. Eddie won't complain, he knows.
Robin gratefully accepts the clothes. He goes back into Eddie's room to give her privacy, unsure exactly how long to wait. There's that stereotype that women take forever to change, right? It must hold some truth.
He gives it an hour, just to be safe. When he emerges, he finds that she's curled up on the couch, out like a light. His jacket's pulled up to her chin like a blanket.
Waif in need alarm. He sighs. Bev's right after all. He won't be surprised if this situation resolves with him having another kid in his care.
Well, Eddie always wanted a sister, anyway.
#wayne adopts robin au#stranger things#wayne munson#robin buckley#eddie munson#my writing#st ficlet#st fic#this ran away from me so unbelievably badly#my wips
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