#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day

[beskarandblasters]

The Gunslinger

Boxer!Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

Author’s note: From the results of my poll! Next up is Gym Owner!Abby and an Abby x Reader x Ellie roommate threesome!! (｡◕‿◕｡)

Summary: Your friend, Tyler, drags you to your first boxing match one night. You're expecting to not have any fun at all until you lay your eyes on The Gunslinger also known as Abby Anderson. She spots you during the match but you chalk it up to random eye contact she makes with her fans. What happens when she finds you alone after the match?

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, no outbreak au, idk if the boxing rules + the match are accurate I am but a simpleton, soft dom!Abby, dub con (reader has consumed alcohol), semi public sex, oral sex (reader receiving), strap sucking, strap fucking (reader receiving), Abby refers to the strap as her cock, reader is shorter than Abby but than that no physical descriptions used, nipple play, pet names (good girl & pretty girl), slight degradation (whore), no aftercare, no use of y/n

You’re not going to enjoy yourself. No one in their right mind wants to spend their evening sitting shoulder to shoulder in uncomfortable stands, surrounded by drunk assholes screaming their heads off. And yet here you are, sitting shoulder to shoulder in said uncomfortable stands, holding your overpriced beer in one hand and covering your ear with the other. You’re wearing a skirt and the itchy wood is irritating the back of your thighs. This was all a mistake. Why did you agree to this?

Oh right, it’s because your friend Tyler convinced you to come. 

“Can you at least act like you’re having a good time? We’re right in the front row,” he says, pulling your hand away from your ear.

“I’ll try but no promises.”

“You’ll change your mind once you see the Gunslinger, trust me.”

“What’s so special about her?” you ask, chugging your beer so you don’t have to hold it any longer. 

“One of the best sluggers I’ve ever seen. Seriously, her uppercuts are devastating.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, rolling your eyes. 

“Do you wanna know why they call her the Gunslinger?” he asks. After every response he turns his gaze across the ring, staring at something but you can’t make out what. 

“Sure.”

“Because she’s got the fucking cannons, man.”

“Cannons and guns are two different things.”

“You know what I meant. Seriously, the biceps on this woman are insane.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You’ll be eating your words later.”

He turns his gaze away from you again and this time you see what he’s looking at– a woman sitting in the front row on the opposite side of the ring. She notices him and smiles. You recognize her as the woman he was chatting up when he was in line grabbing your beers.

“You’ve been making eyes at her since we got here.”

“I have not.”

“Yes, you have. And I’d be willing to bet she’s into you, too.”

“...You really think so?”

You open your mouth to respond but Tyler interrupts and so does the crowd, your ears ringing from their boisterous shouts. The announcer steps into the ring, microphone in one hand and the other raised in the air. He’s wearing a black suit and a wide grin, just admiring the way the audience cheers for him, not even one of the boxers. 

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! And welcome to tonight’s match. Tonight promises to be a classic with the lineup we have for ya.”

“First up we got a rookie in the ring. Fighting out of the blue corner is the Iron Fist, Fiona Finster!” 

You turn your head towards the hallway the announcer is pointing at where you see the silhouette of a woman; tall, bulky, a fucking unit. She steps into the ring and sheds her silky white robe, embroidered with The Iron Fist in royal blue lettering. She’s wearing a black sports bra, royal blue shorts, and gloves to match the lettering on her robe. The audience cheers for her but you’re stuck staring at the sheer size of her. If this is a rookie… then what does the Gunslinger look like?

“Next up we have a legend entering the ring. You know her. You love her. Fighting out of the red corner. It’s the Gunslinger, Abby Anderson!”

Entering the ring is a woman who makes the Iron Fist look like a wimp. She’s taller and absurdly muscular, wearing black boxing gloves. Her robe is also black and on the back, in shiny silver letters, it reads The Gunslinger. She takes it off and hands it to who is presumably her coach. Once the robe is gone you can see everything much better and Tyler was right. She really does have the fucking cannons. Her skin is shiny, the bright lights reflecting off her muscles, and her dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a braid. She scans the crowd, mouth curled into a smirk as she watches how the audience cheers for her. She’s confident, well-liked and she knows it. You feel no better than a man the way you’re ogling her, admiring the way the muscles in her back stretch out the fabric of the charcoal gray sports bra she’s wearing. She’s just… impressive in every way and with a body like that the nickname Gunslinger feels earned. 

Before she’s finished showing off for the crowd her eyes land on you, meeting your gaze and flashing you a smile. Your cheeks heat up in… embarrassment? No, that’s not right. Flattery? Maybe. 

Or it’s probably because you just formed a strong attraction to this woman. And it’s probably the look on your face that gave it away. Your eyes go wide as you stare at her, your mouth falling open in a soft O. 

Whatever, the eye contact probably didn’t mean anything. She probably does that with lots of people in the audience; her fans. Unless…

No stop right there. She’s a professional and you’re just a spectator, nothing more. That meant nothing. 

The referee enters the ring and goes over the rules with the two women. And once again as she’s listening to the ref she looks past his head and glances at you again. The eye contact is intense, almost too much to bear but you can’t look away. It’s the type of eye contact one would show someone if they’re trying to assert their dominance. As far as you’re concerned, she can dominate you all she wants. 

The boxers bump gloves and the first round begins. It’s one of the most enthralling sporting events you’ve ever witnessed. Tyler hands you his beer, too focused on the match to worry about drinking it. But you’re not about to waste the shitty, overpriced beer so you down it, setting the plastic cup on the floor. Despite being an absolute unit, the Gunslinger is quick on her feet, evading most if not all of the Iron Fist’s punches. Every blow the Gunslinger delivers is powerful, making you wince just from observing them. You’re actually enjoying yourself but you don’t know if it’s from the riveting match or if it’s because you’re a little tipsy. Regardless, this is the best turn of events. And the Gunslinger is easy on the eyes. 

The match flies by round after round until it’s the final one. You’ve never been to a boxing match before but supposedly the judges don’t announce the score until the match is over. 

But that wouldn’t even matter. 

Because the Gunslinger delivers a devastating blow to the Iron First– a knockout, right in her jaw. The opponent is off her feet for more than ten seconds. And once the referee finishes his count to ten the match is over. The crowd erupts into overwhelming celebratory cheers. 

“And the winner is Abby The Gunslinger Anderson!” the announcer exclaims. 

Everyone rises from the stands, hands in the air and cheering loudly. The Gunslinger is presented with a gold belt, throwing it over her shoulder like a sash. She raises her gloved hands in the air, basking in all the applause. She makes eye contact with you again for the third time. This has to mean something, right?

Before she exits the ring, she winks at you, smiling once more. And with that, she’s gone and while you’re left reeling from the intense eyefucking the crowd starts to leave, moving as a large hoard. 

“Fuck, Tyler! Go find that girl before she leaves!” you say, elbowing him. 

“Really? You’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you out front. Just go talk to her before she leaves,” you say, urging him to go. 

You remain on the bench, waiting for the crowd to dissipate before moving. The night’s events replay in your mind and you’re amazed you had any fun. Though, it’s hard to tell if you had fun because of the boxing or because of subtle flirting from the Gunslinger. Either way, you’d come back for another match. 

Eventually, the crowd disperses and you start to leave, heading to the parking lot to meet Tyler. You’re about to push the door open when a hand on your shoulder stops you in your tracks. Expecting it to be Tyler you turn around and ask, “Did you get her number or what?”

“Whose number?” 

Except it’s not Tyler. It’s the Gunslinger. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I thought you were my friend.”

“It’s just me.”

You’re stunned, mouth opening to speak but no words coming out. 

“Abby,” she continues. 

“Right! That was a good match,” you say, struggling to form a coherent sentence. 

“Thanks,” she chuckles, “I’ve never seen you here before. This your first one?”

“Yes,” you admit. 

“Did you like it?” she asks, raising her arm above her head and leaning against the wall, inching closer to you. She towers over you but you catch a glimpse of what’s behind her— people who are still lingering around, just like you. 

She catches you looking past her and looks over her shoulder. She exhales and says, “Don’t worry about them. Focus on this.”

“Right,” you say with a shaky breath, painfully aware of all the eyes on you. She turns her gaze back to you, blue eyes staring into yours. Now she’s closer you notice the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks.

“Or I can take you somewhere that’s more… private?”

You pause for a moment, thinking about Tyler before quickly deciding that he’s still talking to that girl. You didn’t get a text from him either. 

“Please,” you say. 

She stands up straighter, removing her arm from the wall and grabbing your hand. She leads you away from the exit doors and towards the hallway she entered, walking right past the group of people who noticed you two in the first place. She holds her head high, not caring about the stares as she brings you to her locker room. 

She shuts the door behind you and immediately presses you up against the wall. She palms your thigh, hand inching up closer towards the hem of your skirt. 

“You didn’t tell me your name,” she says in your ear. You don’t need to see her face to know that she’s wearing a smirk. 

You tell her your name with a shaky breath and she repeats it to herself before saying, “Are you gonna be my good girl?” 

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath, a shiver running down your spine. 

She grabs you by the waist, dragging you to the bench and forcing you to sit down. She kneels on the floor, one hand rubbing your inner thigh and the other pushing you so you’re lying down on the bench. You hear her reach for her bag and out of the corner of your eye you spot her grabbing a pair of trainer’s scissors, like the kind used to remove gauze and tape from wrapped hands. She hikes up your skirt and you feel the cold metal slide across your skin as she cuts off your panties.  

“Shit,” you breathe out, feeling her muscular hands pull the fabric off of you. 

“Look at you, already dripping for me,” she says, pulling your thighs apart. “Did you get wet watching me fight?”

“Fuck… Yes, I did,” you admit. 

“Eyeing me up and down like a whore in my own ring?” she says, getting closer to your pussy. She goes to eat you out, mouth hovering over your clit and warm breath sending a shiver up your core. 

“Eyes on me or you don’t get cum. Got it?” 

You rest on your elbows, propping yourself up to get a good view of her face buried between your thighs. Her tongue laps at your pussy, swirling around your clit all while her eyes are on you, watching the way your mouth falls open and the way your chest heaves. Her tongue circles your entrance, nose grinding against your clit as her strong arms wrap around your thighs. Fuck, her arms. The veins bulge from her muscles as she keeps a firm grip on you, keeping you flush against her face while she eats you out. The pleasure builds and for a split second close your eyes. But that just won’t do. 

She stops, pulling her face back slightly and saying, “What did I say, pretty girl? Eyes on me.”

You open your eyes again, meeting her stern gaze before she goes back to licking your cunt. She squeezes your thighs tighter as she flicks her tongue around your clit before sucking it. A loud moan escapes your lips as she brings you to the edge of orgasm. You cum hard against her face, pussy clenching around nothing and thighs shaking under her grasp. She laps up every last drop of your release before letting you go, rising from the floor and reaching for her bag again. 

“Strip for me,” she commands while searching for something. 

You pull yourself off the bench, legs shaking underneath you. As you strip your clothes you watch her grab a black strap-on from her bag. 

“Do you do this with all your groupies?” you tease. 

“Just the pretty ones,” she says, shedding her clothes and putting on the strap, “Now, back on the bench.”

You sit, waiting for further instructions, but instead, she grabs the back of your head and brings you to the tip of her strap. 

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” she says, stroking your cheek lovingly. 

You open your mouth and take the tip of the strap in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base. You bob your head up and down, making sure the strap gets nice and slick, all while maintaining eye contact like you know she likes. Her hand continues to caress your cheek as you suck her off, putting effort in like it’s a real cock she can get pleasure from. 

But once she’s decided you’ve done enough, she pulls out of her mouth and pushes you down on the bench. Her strong hands pull your thighs apart again, the tip of the strap aligning with your entrance. Her hands grip your waist as she thrusts into you in one swift motion. You gasp at the sudden length and girth but she brings a hand to the outline of your breast, caressing it before pinching your nipple and saying, “You can take it.”

You nod, looking into her piercing eyes and spreading your legs even wider to accommodate how broad she is. She pinches your other nipple as she draws her hips back and slams into you. Off to your right, you hear people outside the door, shuffling down the hallway. But you’re unable to hold back your moans, not with the way she’s fucking you. 

“Abby, what if someone hears?” you manage to choke out.

“Let them,” she says, thrusting into you harder. 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse, stars dancing in your vision. 

Her hands move to your waist and her strong arms hold you down, her fingers sinking into your skin as she grips you tightly. She pulls you into her all while she thrusts into you. And with one last slam of her hips, you come undone around her, pussy clenching her cock while she fuck you through your release. 

“That’s right. Cum on my cock, pretty girl,” she says, her jaw slack and watching how pretty you look when you cum. 

Once you’re done, she pulls out of you, standing up to take off the strap and get dressed again. You lie there trying to catch your breath and once she’s clothed she kneels by your side, handing you your clothes and saying, “Come to another match sometime.”

She kisses you, hand gripping your grin before she rises from the floor and grabs her bag, leaving you there in the locker room; a naked, shivering mess. 

You sit up and reach for your phone, hastily texting Tyler to tell him you’ll be out front soon. While you wait for his response you notice that your shredded panties are gone, meaning that she must’ve taken them, another kind of trophy for her from this evening. He responds with a thumbs up and you collapse back down onto the bench, giving yourself more time to recollect yourself and replaying the night’s activities in your head. 

Maybe boxing isn’t so bad. 

Banners by saradika, dividers by firefly-graphics

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #abby tlou #abby anderson #tlou 2 remastered #tlou 2 #abby anderson fanfic

[httpsserene]

i've been looking for weeks and months but can't find a single x male reader fic/au/etc... could u spare sum for the boys too😭🤲

ɪ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴡ/ ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: max is over at daniel’s where they're supposed to be doing whatever best buds do. but somehow, the topic of his father comes up, and it brings max to a…realization of sorts. it also causes the two of you to argue, and for several discoveries to be made in the early morning hours; some of the depressing-kind, and some of the heartwarming-and-life-changing-kind. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:  angst and fluff (hurt/comfort). argument. jos verstappen's a+ parenting. no beta we die like alphatauri's engines. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x male!reader (race not specified) 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: ivy • frank ocean

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ:  i *usually* don’t write for male readers (as a cis woman idk i think it’s sus? idk, but maybe it’s not since i do support and love mxm ships, so maybe that’s hypocritical?)....but since it is my first request and max’s birthday (when i started writing this) i figured i could spare sum for da boys :)))) i scrolled through the tag and most of it was f1 x platonic!male!reader which is lowkey depressing, the boys deserve to simp wholeheartedly with us girlies ✊🏽  i hope “the boys” enjoy this and it makes the f1 x male!reader life a lil better! (you also didn’t specify who you wanted, so i went with max bc of his birthday) big shout out to the best kitties in the world, jimmy and sassy, for being great sports in this fic ☠️ they were wonderful setting devices!  this is not an accurate description of max’s relationship with his father. we all don’t know what’s going on there, but it did become a wonderful plot point. so, it’ll probably be the only thing jos the boss is good for besides being max’s sperm-donor 🙂.

want to be added to my taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me a message !

prompts from @forestryprompts and @dumplingsjinson

it’s 3:23 AM, and you’re brutally jarred out of your sleep by your phone ringing. you’re disoriented–still in that sleepy “where the fuck am i” stage–and don’t quite catch the first phone call. a few seconds pass by without another call, and you’re convinced you hallucinated. usually, there’s only two reasons for you to be disturbed in the middle of the night. number one, when sassy “accidentally” presses all ten pounds of her body weight into your spleen with one paw; and number two; when max returns from partying, a late flight, or streaming. glancing around, you guess sassy is the bengal curled up on max’s side of the bed, gravitating to where his scent is the strongest as max is over at daniel’s; missing her favorite parent. and you guess that jimmy’s the heat source curled against your feet under the duvet, as that’s his favorite spot to sleep and his favorite place to prey on your toes. you lay straight back, head resting on your pillow and shrug, dismissing it as a problem for the morning.

then another call starts ringing through. now, you’re awake enough to start processing the important information. you always set your phone on dnd when going to bed, and there’s only a few numbers that are set to bypass it during sleep. this ringtone in particular, identifies the caller as max, which is peculiar. max doesn’t disturb your sleep unless absolutely necessary, he already feels guilty enough for doing so when traveling. with that thought, you reach for the phone with a reaction time you’d only relate to your boyfriend’s occupation. 

you breathe out, “maxy, baby? are you okay? did something happen?”

a panicked and slightly desperate giggle slips out of the receiver, “heyyyy, it’s daniel, actually–”

“daniel?” you softly exclaim, sitting up in bed, worriedly continuing, “where’s max? did something happen? is he okay–”

“well,” daniel starts, “i wouldn’t say he’s ‘okay’, so to speak–” 

“oh my god! what does that mean, daniel? i’m coming over right now give me like, fifteen minutes–” you say rushedly, already leaping out of the bed. jimmy yowls in shock of being disturbed, panically darting out of the duvet, and sassy shoots up–airplane ears activated and all. 

daniel cuts you off, “NO! uh, no! i’m actually already on the way back to yours with him right now! he’s like- kinda drunk- tipsy i guess, one would say uh- but–”

“are you driving, daniel? if-if you’ve drank you should’ve let him sleep over, or called me to come get him if he’s being a menace!”

“no, uh-” daniel starts whispering, “we’re in an uber. ma- i mean- your boyfriend is kind of out of it, and not in a drunk way.”

“what the fuck,” you bite out, switching to hold the phone to your ear with your shoulder, as you pull on a pair of sweatpants (max’s) over your boxers, “does that mean, daniel?!”

“so, like,” daniel whispers even quieter, “hypothetically, we started talking about ma- sorry, his- wonderful childhood, and i guess me saying that seeing his father stabbing a mechanic with a fork isn't a normal thing to experience, kind of sent him into a spiral.”

“oh, fuck” you pause, while pulling one of max’s championship hoodies on. 

“yeah, that’s pretty much what i’d say,” daniel sighs, “but, then um, he tried to like rationalize it to me? like, he’d bring up different crazy memories, and i’d be like ‘no, mate, that’s not normal either,’ and everytime he’d bring up a positive interaction with his dad, he realized it correlated to how well he performed, and he kind of um-shut down.”

“oh. fuck.” you repeat. sassy, in a rare show of solidarity, winds between your legs and mews gently at you as if she’s letting you know that she’s here. “um, well,” you say, running a stressed hand through your hair, “you should be on max’s list to come up to the apartment, but i’ll call down to give them a heads up. text me when you get here, please?”

“will do,” daniel perks up, “i’m sorry by the way. i should’ve left it alone, or distracted him away from the topic. but you know how he gets, probably better than me.” 

now it’s your turn to let a depressing chuckle escape, “probably not, dan. i’ve known him for fourteen years and dated him for five of those, and he hasn’t done more than agree that his dad ‘isn’t perfect’” you wave your hand through the air, brushing the train of thought away, “anyways, i can get the spare room ready for you, so you don’t have to uber back?”

daniel nervously laughs, “forgive me for saying this, but i don’t really want to be present for whatever conversation is going to happen. or have to pretend like i’m unaware of anything. max would do his best to avoid me for as long as he can if he knew i was around, and i don’t want to risk that…after what happened when i left red bull.”

“yeah, you’re right. don’t forget to text me when you get here,” you state.

daniel’s text comes through when you’ve just gathered the ibuprofen and water bottles. you thumbs-up the message, and go to sit in the living room to wait for a knock on the door.  you plop down on the couch and your leg bounces anxiously. jimmy gracefully hops up into your lap, and he must be an emotional support cat because he sits down on that leg, and leans into your torso butting his head into your chest asking for pets. you indulge him, a shaky laugh erupting, “thanks, jimmy,” and you lean down to press a few kisses to his cheeks. silence overcomes the room, and then three knocks break the still air in the apartment, and both you and jimmy jump off the couch and race to the entryway. you push jimmy behind you with a foot as you open the door, knowing damn well he’ll sneak into the hallway if given a chance. 

max stumbles through the doorway first. his eyes are bloodshot with a cold and unseeing look glazed over them, red-rimmed and looking so distraught at tonight’s realization, that your heart aches for him. you wish you could take his pain away, or at least carry some of it for him. his hair is sticking out in different directions like he was anxiously tugging at it, but the most surprising observation is the tear tracks on his cheeks. max doesn’t cry, like at all. 

well, that’s not exactly true. he’s one of the men that says crying is “strong” and not a sign of weakness when you cry and even encourages you to cry it out on his chest. but, when it’s himself, he refuses to cry until everything gets too much. he’ll come up to you and sit or stand pressed right up against you, grabs at and plays with your hand to let you know that he needs comfort, before he looks at you and softly asks with a cracking voice if he can have a hug. you always set aside what you’re doing as quickly as you can, because you’re not going to let an opportunity of caring for max in a rare vulnerable time pass, and pull him into your chest. even though he’s broader than you, he appears to shrink himself within your arms, and presses his face into your shoulder while he cries. his tears are always silent, but his body is loud; he shakes, and his hands grab at whatever you’re wearing in fists like he’s afraid that you’d slip out of his grasp.

anyways, you’ve never known him to really cry with other people. with a soft, “max…” you reach out to him, but he brushes right past your hand and goes straight for the bedroom. jimmy trots after him, and sassy falls into step from whatever pocket she was hiding in. you freeze, shocked at his behavior while also understanding, he’s had a life-changing realization that he’s never allowed himself to address. you feel guilty that you're jealous of the fact that he had it with daniel. 

daniel clears his throat, still standing outside the doorway, “...you know he doesn’t mean to ignore you like that, right?”

you nod, “when did he start crying?”

“he held it together until we got into the uber, i think. he was turned towards the window the whole time and refused to look at me. i didn’t notice he cried until we got out.”

“are you sure you don’t want to stay the night? it’s late, dan. or at least let me get you the uber back” you offer again with a questioning look.

daniel refuses both options, “nah, don’t worry about it. i’ll make max take me to lunch one day to pay me back. i’d say good luck but that seems redundant. be gentle with him, alright?”

you sigh, “i’ll be gentle, dan. can’t say the same for him,” daniel’s face saddens more, “get home safe alright, dan? text me when you get there.”

“of, course,” daniel nods, “goodnight.”

you watch him walk into the elevator before closing the door. you turn the lock, and step forward until you can rest your forehead onto the cool wood. eventually, you push off the door and turn around to grab the water and ibuprofen from the settee and make your way to the bedroom. max is sitting at the foot of the bed, elbows on his knees and his head resting in his hands.

pausing, you place the water and meds on the nightstand first, then you sit next to him and lightly place your hand on his upper back, attempting to rub between his shoulder blades to provide comfort. max shrugs your hand off. you pause, blinking a few times trying to discover the best course of action. you decide to ignore the second blatant dismissal of the night, and pull his hand off his face and push him to sit up straight. you forcefully straddle his lap, ignoring his grumbles, and grab his face, thumbs resting on his cheeks and directing him to look straight at you. 

“max, you’ve got to communicate with me here. i was terrified, when daniel called me! you refuse to talk about your dad with me, which is fine, okay? but you have to talk to somebody. whether it’s me, daniel, a therapist, christian, or even fucking helmut marko—you need to talk to someone. you’ve repressed this shit your whole life, and when whatever film you had over your eyes when looking at your father slipped away, you shut down completely? that can’t happen again! i don’t want it to happen again…daniel sounded completely fucking terrified—like he was afraid he broke you or something. and if you’re scaring me right now with how-h-how out of it you look, i can’t imagine what it was like for him,” you finish, taking a few deep breaths. max doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly. 

you make a distressed groan, both hands releasing max’s face to rub at your eyes and drag down your cheeks. doing so, you continue talking, “max. you don’t even have to talk, baby, not to me at least. i don’t care if you journal, if you meditate, if you go goddamn axe throwing; but, you need to see a professional. cause, how your brain is coping, and how you’re rationalizing it isn’t good. you aren’t the problem, nothing you could’ve done differently would have made your dad change; you are not the problem, max, he is. okay? i’ve known you for fourteen years, and not once have i pressured the topic after you said that ‘you’re fine,’ but, you have to at least promise me that you’ll start doing something.”

max parts his lips, thinking about what to say, as you fully sit on his lap. you look at him with wide eyes filled with worry—with care— and you’re anxiously playing with the hairs on the nape of your neck. 

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“that’s not an option,” you state, with a furrowed brow, “can you at least tell me what caused the breakdown?”

and, that’s what gets get’s max going. his cheeks flush, and his eyes darken, and he starts talking with a firmer voice.

“it wasn’t a breakdown, first of all. i was just overwhelmed and overreacting. it’s nothing serious, like you’re pretending it is. i don’t need this—this false worry, showing up all of sudden when you know how the relationship between my father and i has been for all of the time we’ve known each other.”

you pull away, retreating off his lap and stand in front of him with your arms crossed over your chest. 

“false worry?? that’s what you think this is,” you start with an exasperated tone, “max, ‘for all the time we’ve known each other’ all you’ve done is deflect from my questions about you two, or tell me that everything is fine when it’s clearly not! and i gave you the space you wanted, because i was afraid that you’d stop talking to me, that you’d stop trusting me. but now, as your boyfriend, i can’t let it go unaddressed anymore!”

“you already did for fourteen years! it shouldn’t be that difficult for you to keep ignoring it.”

“because you asked me to, max! you didn’t want to talk about it then, and you need to talk about it now! i don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to share it with me, but it needs to be with somebody!”

“i already told you I didn’t want to talk about it, yet you keep insisting!” 

“that’s because i fucking care about you!” 

“well, did i ask for you to care about me?”

you’re stunned silent. the room is filled with heavy breaths from the two of you. this might be the most serious argument you’ve had, in awhile, or ever. 

it’s the third blatant dismissal of the night, and you’re calling it quits, daniel did tell you to be gentle, and if you keep going like this you’re word choice will become less gentle.

“you’re right,” you exhale, relaxing your clenched jaw, “you didn’t ask for me to care. and you shouldn’t have to ask for anybody to care. and, for some ‘unbelievable’ reason, i do happen to actually care,” you finish, your words dripping with exhaustion and defeat.

you walk around to the side of the bed, grabbing a pillow off the top and point at the nightstand, “the ibuprofen and water are for you. at least, finish one bottle before you go to bed, please.” you start walking towards the closet. 

“wait,” max calls out, finally standing up with a confused look in his eyes, “why’d you grab a pillow?”

you grab a blanket out of the closet, and sigh, “i’m sleeping on the couch.”

“what? no-no you’re not,” max stutters out, disbelieving.

“uh, yes i am.”

“what, no! no, schatje, i’m sorry, please come to bed,” max utters out, looking absolutely heartbroken. 

“i’m going to sleep on the couch, max,” you repeat, “if i go to bed, i won’t be able to not talk about it, and we’re clearly going to talk in circles about it. both of us are tired, frustrated, and mad, and we’re going to end up even angrier, so i’m going to sleep on the couch.”

max, crossing the room quickly, grabs at your waist with his large hands, and pleads, “if you’ve made up your mind about it, you can at least take the bed, i’ll sleep on the couch, schat.”

you, grab his hands off your waist, having to fight him a little bit for it (you may be a man, but your man is a professional athlete, you’ll be outmatched any day) and press them into his chest, “you’re still pretty drunk, max. i’ll let you take the bed so you can be comfortable, you seem like you’re going to have a pretty bad hangover, i can smell the alcohol on you still.”

max looks upset, but eventually concedes. you press your lips to his cheek, “i’ll see you in the morning, babe. then, with clearer minds we can talk, ‘kay?”

sassy baps jimmy on the face before nuzzling in between max’s legs, while jimmy makes to follow you out as you shut the door gently.

situating yourself on the couch, you squeeze your eyes shut. usually you’d be hugging max’s arm to your chest but tonight, jimmy is benevolent enough to leave his usual spot at your feet to fill in for max. even with the comfort the bengal’s purring body provides, you know you’re only in for a fitful night of sleep.

you wake up a few hours later, your body not able to keep you under for long you guess, as the early morning sun has barely started lightening the room. you take a minute to get your bearings, not used to waking up on the couch (in the past when you have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch, you magically wake up in bed laying on top of your boyfriend, how weird), and jimmy is no longer laying with you. he’s with max, who’s sitting on his floor below you, with his back facing you.

you rub at your eyes and whisper, “max?” he startles, and turns around to face you. his eyes have fresh bags underneath, his hair is still slightly damp from a shower, and you can tell he hasn’t gotten any sleep. even though you got a couple hours of shut-eye, the matching bags under your eyes prove that your sleep was restless.

“hey,” he whispers back sheepishly, “i know you told me to go to bed, but i couldn’t fall asleep. i only came out here a few minutes ago though, and i was just going to wait until you woke up in the morning.”

you sit up straight, and pull max onto the couch with you, “max, what? you could’ve at least layed down on the other couch, and not sit on the–”

max cuts you off.

“i just…couldn’t go to bed alone tonight, okay? i still feel raw–i think is the word for it. i’m exhausted and cried out, and the only person who can make me feel better is you right now. so i was just going to sit here, and be next to you, without disturbing you like you wanted, because being in your general vicinity already makes me feel better, even if you're mad at me.”

your mouth is left gaping, and you feel guilty now, your chest aches. leaving max at a time where he was vulnerable, even if you were right down the hallway–

“and, don’t feel bad about your decision to sleep out here. you decided that space was the best course of action for you, and you are probably right, because i was ready to argue with you,” max continues rambling, “honestly, you sleeping out here made me realize that i never want you to be angry with me like that, ever again. at first, i was scared that if i opened up about my relationship with my dad you would think i’m weak, or that you'd judge me for it, or that you’d leave me. but when i was in the shower earlier, i got really…scared.”

he pauses, taking a few deep breaths and you don’t make to interrupt him.

“i got scared because i thought you left me right now. that you lied to me about sleeping on the couch, and you were actually planning to leave. and, obviously you did not, you are still here right now but, it made me realize that i do need to talk to you. and that the reason i thought you were leaving was because of how i thought i scared you away with my issues. but i realize now, that the way i’ll scare you away is by not talking about my issues,” he turns to look at you with an earnest expression.

“so, if you are okay with it, i will talk to you. about everything, even though it may take me some time to work up the courage. i am uncomfortable with talking to a…professional, but i will, if you truly think it will help me. but i do not want to risk the chance that my refusal to communicate costs me a lifetime with you,” he ends.”

you stare at him blankly, and max begins to fidget at your silence. you lean forward and pull him into a hug, tears gathering in your eyes. he nestles his head in the crook of your neck, and presses gentle kisses into your skin. 

“max, all i want is for you to talk to me about it. i want to share the burden you feel, and understand you better than the back of my hand. most of all, i hope having somebody who understands you to that depth makes you feel lighter, and validates your emotions.”

max says something, but it’s muffled by your body.

“what was that, baby?”

max pulls away to look at you with bashful eyes and pinkened cheeks, “you know i can’t imagine my life without you.”

“likewise,” you respond, just as meek.

“no, really. i've fallen in love with you,” he continues.

“max, you told me you loved me years ago,” you say laughingly.

“no, like, i’ve fallen in love with you again. everytime i think i can’t fall any deeper, you manage to prove me wrong,” he says intensely.

you pout at him, hands coming up to feel at your heated cheeks, “oh, max! stop, you’re going to make me cry. that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me. i fall in love with you again, everytime you finish a race, and come home to me. that you chose me as the man you want to see after a tiring race weekend, regardless of the outcome. 

max smiles all teeth, “there’s no other person i want to share my highs and lows with. well, hopefully more highs than lows. i have the ring for you already, but i at least need to win eight championships before i retire so you’re able to marry a record-breaking champion. i am proposing to you this year though, i cannot wait any longer.”

you stare at him unseeing for a minute, and he looks awfully confused for a man who just announced his plans to give you his last name. 

“max,” you start shakingly, “what do you mean you already have the ring?”

max’s carefree expression drops, and becomes pale, “what are you talking about? i never said anything about a ring–”

“you literally just did?! the part before you said you were proposing to me this year, and before becoming an eight-time world–”

max claps, cutting you off while standing up. he offers you his hand, “alright! we should go to bed now, right? together, yes that’s a great idea.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems

© httpsserene 2023

#f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #f1 x male!reader #max verstappen x male!reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen fluff #red bull f1 #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #max verstappen fanfic #formula 1 x black!reader #formula 1 x male!reader #platonic!male!reader #formula 1 x platonic male!reader #f1 x male reader #max verstappen scenario #⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1 #serene’s chapters. #reader's suggestions. #♡ ༘*.ﾟ love interest: mv.

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren���t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

#the glass series #moonknight #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moonknight fanfic #moonknight imagines #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector imagines #marc spector imagine #marc spector fluff #marc spector fanfiction #steven grant fanfic #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #steven grant fluff #steven grant #jake lockley fanfiction #marc spector #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley imagines #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely imagine #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader

[thatdeadaquarius]

When I’m playing genshin, I’m mostly listening to either Paternity Court, or Steve Wilkos. Imagine the characters hearing all of the stuff and being so scandalized by the results and comments. Or being genuinely disgusted and heartbroken for the victims in more serious cases. I can def see a good chunk of them being invested

I don’t think I’ve listened to those yet! I do occasionally get on a true crime binge listen, however the weirdest thing my characters have heard has gotta be Game Grumps episodes or compilations lol

What if i listened to every season of Buzzfeed Unsolved.

What would we do then my Genshin characters, my people, what then.

I saw someone else write about this true crime documentary thing but they described everyone being pretty terrified or disgusted by the podcasts

Which I definitely think some would be literally horrified lmao

But also I think a lot of them definitely would be invested-

I mean shit,

you're listening to your God and they just start playing this like uncomfortably detailed intricate crime case/murder report???

I would be so interested in what kind of person they were, and why they were listening to true crime stuff, 

so needless to say characters like Heizou and Yelan would definitely be into it, maybe Kujou Sara as well?

I can see Zhongli getting into it too and Raiden

I mean don't get me wrong plenty would be disturbed

like rest in peace Barbara 🙏

but like it would be fascinating to them too!!

cuz they don't know anything about our world so they could learn a lot about it thru listening to this stuff

tho it probably cause a lot of confusion whenever they hear things like phone or computer or car lol

you know stuff that hasn't been invented yet for them or there is no equivalent, but they

would deffo interrogate u about ur world when u get to Teyvat

♤

okay but on a more silly motherfucker note-

what if I was playing Game Grumps around them lol, would they be like oh my God our Creator has the best comedians or hilarious friends

like you know how a king has jesters? 😭

I feel like they would think that instead of a recording definitely, especially because most of these things are just people talking and not like, a speech or something

because audio recordings could exist for them, they would probably get it in concept, they do have Ley lines that do that afterall (and now Kameras)

♧

Omg,

oh no, would they think that you're getting these reports in person??  Or even like your SOLVING all these crimes?? 

esp bc I know myself and I tend to sometimes be talking to Genshin characters like,

"damn that's how he got arrested? How stupid he could've blah blah blah i sound like a hardened cop playing a gacha game lmao blah blah...."

it'd be so funny to see that one play out

when u get whisked away to teyvat and Heizou and Yelan are just:

"oh my God can you help us with all these cases we love your mind, or get your servants to help us?"

THEY WOULDNT EVEN BELIEVE U IF U TRIED TO BE LIKE "no no please ur the professionals idk wtf im doing guys-"

Heizou/Yelan: 🤨🤨

"likely story Most Honorable God, but we heard quite the fascinating theories just last week before u descended, hmmm...."

u cant win, 

honestly everyone would probably just assume ur not only the god who created/built teyvat but also have a domain in justice, comedy or honestly whatever u be playing all the time, including music, people would definitely think ur a music god too

esp if ur like me and u just turn on a cool Spotify playlist while u play sometimes, like they've probably never heard so many radically different genres songs, and so many back to back

(could definitely see a myth about u having an immortal inexhaustible musician band that has access to all the songs of the universe that u make them play for you, once again, would be hard to deny bc that's a pretty accurate description of spotify lol)

♡

srry abt my ✨️ass writing✨️ anon!!

I am getting to these old asks so late I hope u guys r alright with getting answered so late, ya boy has been busy 

Im busy partially bc i have a end of year art exhibition!

Basically at my university, if ur an art major, u have to have some of ur best work from ur time at university and display it in a Senior year art exhibition in the university's art museum! Its super cool! And stressful! :D!!

Anyway im so happy i have no object permanence bc everytime i open my drafts or my inbox, even the old asks :( , are  a new surprise every time :D lmao

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

#so teyvat has known me for about 2 yrs now #wow thats crazy #so fast #but also #do u think they would feel the way we feel about them bc of that? #like how we love fictional characters #😭 ur just talking all the time and u eat with them and u celebrate their victories with them and worry about them #how could they not love u #genshin impact #genshin sagau #my asks #sagau #genshin imagines #genshin sagau ideas #gender neutral reader #genshin isekai #genshin god reader #genshin imagines reverse harem #i mean what #genshin impact sagau #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin impact reader insert

[venacoeurva]

I will be opening 2 slots for this style! Please specify if you want the regular cel shaded one or the old print style one (Wren threateningly in his undies is the best example of the textures and inking I have 🥲), prices are the same. One image per person sans minor alterations. Please read the rules below.

They’re first come, first serve--Contact via IMs only, asks are tedious and difficult to navigate back to to get refs, and idk if asks still get eaten but I'd rather not give it the chance.

RULES

These commissions are NOT permitted for commercial use, use in training AI, NFTs or any involvement in cryptocurrency, campaigns, or promotion that contributes to financial gain. This includes assets such as icons, banners, character art, and similar for streaming, Youtube, blogs that make a profit, and other websites. If there’s a chance you will profit financially from its use, that falls under commercial.

You will get 2 minor to moderate fixes in your commission past the sketch phase. Be prepared and have your resources and ideas ahead of time and if you remember any changes please tell me all of them at one time as one fix. I will not practically or actually redraw or recolor a commission due to customer negligence.

You are not permitted to remove watermarks on the pieces.

I must know ahead of time if you intend on creating physical objects using the piece.

There is not a contractual forfeiture of rights from me to you, I extend them to you. I retain a right to use commissions for promotional and portfolio reasons.

Payment must be up front in full via Paypal invoices (so I need your associated email, NOT a paypal.me link).

When describing things such as the poses and scene, please break the text up into smaller chunks. Also, please don’t tell me to just do whatever, that isn’t helpful at all, stressful, and odds are you know these characters more than I do!

Must have a visual reference for any OCs or character who are difficult to find good references for (such as for a very niche series). I need as neutral lighting in screenshots as you can manage, if you want color accuracy I need accurate colors for colored pieces or the ability to infer what they would be in the lighting of the commission. If the screenshots are too bad I will say no until you can get a better one.

Keep it SFW, suggestive at most for adult characters only (vulgar dialogue or text allowed as long as it's not bigoted or in poor taste). Upper nudity is fine for adults. You must be an adult for that. Fetish content that wouldn’t be clocked from an outside perspective is not allowed. I can also tell when people try to stealth fetish art out of me.

I will not emulate other online artists’ styles, and this commission opening is for the above style only.

If you want me to illustrate part of your fic, do not expect me to read it. Give me a description of the scene as you would any other illustration. If you try this, I will reject your commission.

Shipping is fine (OCXCanon, OCXOC, CanonxCanon) provided it isn't incest or adult/minor. If I'm skeeved out by a particular one you bring up I'll also let you know if I won't do that one.

I won't draw other peoples' OCs that are not yours unless you know each other. People do that without consent, it's weird!

Nonhuman/elf/other humanoid characters are fine, including furries or monsters.

No real people other than cases such as your fursona, etc. and no real person shipping/fanfiction or fanart.

If you're being unprofessional via playful rudeness, flirting, bigotry, demanding I prioritize your comm in the queue or to work faster I will refund you and immediately stop working on your commission. You will be blacklisted.

No politics, no bigoted content (including transphobia and exclusion), no shitty tired jokes like farm tools, rape jokes, pedophilia jokes, or anything involving F/yr unless it’s him getting being obliterated into a fine paste. You get the gist, he makes me uncomfortable and I refuse to draw him, and poor enough taste concepts will get you rejected and blacklisted.

There are some series I refuse to draw for full stop. If you ask for one, I’ll let you know.

I can say no to any commission for any reason.

#commissions #tes #artsyfartsyness

[bigbroadvice]

Is it possible to be pan but have a preference of gender/“see” gender? I just learned about pan vs Omni and I guess Omni fits better but I love the pan flag and colors and more people know about it. Idk it’s a little confusing

Alright, getting on my etymological soap box here.

The point of words is to communicate ideas. They work based off shared understandings that shift through time and between cultures. Most people do not fit entirely into the definition of one word because words are simplifications of concepts and people are complex. Specialized terminology can be a useful shorthand so you don’t have to spend a couple paragraphs describing all the intricacies of a concept every time, but they’re never going to be absolutely completely accurate all the time. Like when you call something ‘red.’ Yeah, it’s pretty much garrenteed whatever it is is not entirely red, it’s probably got some orange or purple or whatever else hues in it, and even those are just categories made up by humans anyways. But calling it red is a workable enough simplification so other people get the gist of what you’re talking about.

If you want to describe yourself as pansexual because it gets the basic idea across to most people, that perfectly fine. If you want to clerify by using the word omnisexual around people who would understand the difference, that’s great too. If you’d rather not, that’s also fine. Nobody is entitled to the complete description of all your feelings and experiences. If them understanding you as pansexual works just fine for you, then go ahead and use that word.

There’s always going to be more precise and accurate microlabels. You can use those if you like, or you can choose not too. Most of the time the way I describe myself is simply “queer as fuck” because it gets the general idea across and I have fun saying it 😎 When I want to be a little more specific I say pan because it lets people know I like everybody. I also percieve gender though, so maybe it’d be a more accurate to describe myself as omnisexual? But I also don’t think the ways I experience attraction are exactly the same as other people so maybe it really ought to be greyomniace? Is that even a word? (Trick question, of course it’s a word cuz I just used it as one and that’s all words are, sounds we string together to represent ideas) I could probably go down the rabbit trail of a hundred different sub labels if I really wanted to get precise about it, but I don’t really care to, and that’s fine. I’ve got a good enough understanding of me, and the terms I use give other people a good enough understanding. Purpose accomplished.

#big bro advice #lgbtq #queer #queer as fuck #pansexual #omnisexual #grey ace #acespec #aspec #microlabels #etymology #lgbtq community #queer community

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

If i can , can i request to u do elaborate the Sebeks parts? Aka headcanons!

I really would like to see a mix of the rage boners ones and the "mc cursed me!-" "but ,Sebek ,dear they are magicaless"

Following His Mother's Footsteps

Gn Magicless Human Yuu. No description of Yuu. Minor spoilers for Sebek's parents. More comedic than canon-accurate also because idk much abt Sebek. Implied poly first years at the end

Context: A while ago there was a joke about how Sebek, despite despising magicless humans, follows in his mother's footsteps and falls in love with a magicless human. However, this doesn’t stop him from accusing Yuu of ‘bewitching’ or casting a spell on him. Mini headcanons rather than a drabble because I would get carried away.

Recently, Sebek has had a.. problem…

You see, recently every time he spends time around the Ramshackle Prefect, he notices that his heart seems to flutter and he gets uncharacteristically quiet. The usually loud alligator fae stumbling over words is unlike him. Just who was this human?

As time goes on, his symptoms worsen. His body started heating up when they got close to him. His eyes are always drawn to you. His cheeks started to become pink at the sight of your skin. The poor fae hasn’t felt this before; any crush he has had in the past was either his admiration for his comrades or simple puppy-love crushes that all kids experienced at some point.

Sebek was baffled at this feeling. It was deeper than camaraderie, yet… Could it be… Love? 

No. No way. The mere thought of it shocked Sebek. he wasn’t going to fall for a mere human and a magicless one at that! He has a prince to serve, he couldn't get caught up in such emotions. No one should have this sort of hold on him. He trained and conditioned himself to be wary of everyone around him, for Malleus’ sake.

There is just simply no way he should have caught feelings. Of course, he’s young and inexperienced, he is aware of this, so perhaps he should consult someone else. Someone like his mentor. There's no way he could like a magicless human like his mother!

“Kfufufu. Oh to be young and in love!~” Lilia purred teasingly, relishing in the shocked look Sebek gave. “LOVE?! Master Lilia, there is no way I could be in love, with a HUMAN no less!” Lilia’s grin grows. “Well then, I guess I don't know then…” Lilia said, feigning sadness. “I do hope you figure out these feelings of yours.”

You feel like Sebek has been staring a hole into your skull for the entire week. You honestly don’t know what you did, and for once he isn’t telling you! You tried your best to avoid him, even asking your fellow first years if they know anything, to which they shrugged.

Walking back to Ramshackle, you hear a familiar voice call— no, yell— at you. “HUMAN!” You huffed, you suppose it’s time to face this. “Yes, Sebek? Do you need something?” 

Sebek too there in front of you, staring you down, awkwardly at that. “… Well?” “Have you been lying to everyone, Yuu?” “Huh?!” “I mean- ngh! I mean are you capable of using magic?”

You shook your head, “I wish I was Sebek.” “So then why do you have this power over me?” You blankly stared, too sleep-deprived for this bullshit. “What?” “I mean just, every time I look at you, my face gets red and I get nervous and- and my heart keeps pounding. I'm never like this at all and no retainer of Malleus should be so… so… disgraceful.”

"I um…” “Surely this has to be a work of spell of you, you’ve bewitched me?” “So I take it… you like me?” “I! You- HUMAN!” Sebek huffed and turned around.

"NEVER MIND HUMAN, IT WAS NOTHING! FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HEARD!” Sebek's face was completely red as he walked off. You just stood and stared. First Ace, then Jack, and now Sebek? Just when did your life become a rom-com?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #poly first years

[knee-stockings]

So I’ve been listening to lots of podcasts at work lately to break up the monotony of my office job. Mainly they’re horror, suspense/thriller, drama, that kind of thing. Trying to give ratings without spoilers~

(Check out updated pod recs here)

The Left Right Game (a journalist investigating an urban legend that gets increasingly more dangerous as they go): 5/5, this being one of the first ones I listened to set the bar really high tbh, it was great, immersive sound design, genuinely suspenseful and creepy moments, interesting plot, my only gripe is that I didn’t love the ending but I couldn’t dock a star just for that, highly recommend, maybe I’ll retire to Wintry Bay someday 

Alice Isn’t Dead (delivery trucker goes searching for her believed dead wife, comes across supernatural towns and creatures and a conspiracy that goes way deeper than one missing woman): 5/5, so so good, enjoyed a lot, I loved learning the truth about the Thistle men, still don’t completely understand oracles but that’s okay, some delightfully creepy moments, this will be high on my recommendation list (also it’s by the Welcome to Night Vale people, which I actually haven’t listened to lmao)

Harley Quinn and the Joker: Sound Mind (it’s a Harley Quinn origin story basically): 5/5, very enjoyable, sound design great, plot was fun, I don’t know how accurate this story is to the original Harley Quinn origin story but I liked this a lot

The Burned Photo (two women try to fight a familial curse haunting their bloodlines): 4/5, not bad at all, I thought the sound design was great and immersive but I thought the monster’s voice was a bit goofy idk, the plot wasn’t bad though ofc it was pretty bittersweet and sad in the end, tho I think it was never going to be happy for everyone involved

Blackwood (group of teens investigate the town urban legend and uncover more than they bargained for): I can’t decide…3.5 maybe? It was okay. I didn’t love it or hate it, I’m pretty neutral about it. It was interesting enough

Gaslight (girl goes missing and then reappears to her best friend years later with little explanation): 3/5, feels like there should be another season, wasn’t as dramatic/suspenseful as I thought it would be (maybe that’s my own fault tho, from the description and stuff I thought there would be more to it)

Ice-Cream (teens suspect the friendly neighborhood ice cream man of abducting little kids and uncover a dark secret): 4.5/5, interesting and a lil creepy, there’s something oddly funny about hearing someone scream “fuck you Beelzebub” even in context, sound design is pretty good and voice acting is great, finale was also pretty good but I’m docking half a star bc of that very last bit and bc I said so, overall short n’ sweet, no pun intendo (I’m kinda glad that it’s only the one season and not super long, gives the feeling of not overstaying its welcome. Also in awe that they made it within like a month, gonna go listen to their other podcast Cascadia too)

Cascadia (submarine expedition to uncharted waters, gone wrong, we almost died!?): 5/5, by the Ice-Cream people so I expected great sound design and voice acting and said expectations were met tbh, yes god love the drama, ocean depths are inherently scary to me so this is top tier horror, season one was chef’s kiss beautiful and I heard season 2 is coming so I’ll be waiting eagerly for that

Listening now:

Within the Wires (season 1 is relaxation cassette tapes from another world, season 2 is a guided museum tour I think): also by the WTNV people, interesting so far, the plot that unfolded in the first season was cool to watch as it played out, but also I am so sad. I like it so far

Rabbits (girl goes searching for her friend who disappeared because of this mysterious Rabbits game): feels like a really slow start after a few episodes, I kinda wanna get to more action soon please

Wake of Corrosion (apocalypse where characters are trying to find other survivors and also answers): mild shrug, not sure what to make of it just yet. Only like 2 episodes in so I think I need to give it a bit

Ars Paradoxica (scientist accidentally invents time travel and is thrown back to the 1940s): pretty interesting so far, science is fun 

Spoiler comment for Cascadia under the cut bc it's the one I just finished and I have Thoughts

As much as I enjoyed Cascadia, when I think about the expedition for more than 2 seconds I get confused. Not the whole alien thing, that’s fine, it’s Badger and Maria and their ulterior motives. Why in the world did Badger spend millions of dollars to make a submarine that’s faulty on purpose? And there was so much media coverage around it so the second something went wrong reporters were practically beating him over the head with microphones, so why risk so much bad press? Plus sacrificing three other talented divers who trusted him with their lives??? That’s the most confusing to me. There’s no way Badger foresaw them getting attacked underwater and losing Declan alone, so he must have been fully prepared to lose captain AND crew. Holden said that he saw Badger as a father, and yet he chose Holden to die? He said he handpicked them, so what did Holden, Alia, or Iris ever do to him to deserve being sent on a suicide mission? Doing all this just to get rid of Declan and be with Maria doesn’t feel right. Feels like there should be something more there. Tldr: surely Badger had another reason for conducting the suicide mission, right? Also since season 2 starts with Lila all grown up, a diver just like her father, I wanna know her opinions of her mother and of Badger. Did she learn about her mother’s betrayal? Is Badger still involved in funding deep sea diving or did the FBI take him out of that? Omg who’s the father of her little sibling…I’m so curious…

#ignore me #mimi reviews #the left right game #alice isn't dead #harley quinn and the joker sound mind #the burned photo #blackwood #gaslight #ice-cream #cascadia #within the wires #rabbits #wake of corrosion #ars paradoxica #i can't believe i had the patience to tag all these...

[itsame-ariana]

(kinda sorta)

Life SMP Hadestown AU

//Life SMP Hadestown AU//

Master post for something no one may see.

Idk if this is anything but enjoy

I dunno- this and into the woods is my favorite musicals and I’ve had traffic brain rot for AGESSS and I was finally re-listening to Hadestown and this absolute fever dream of an idea dawned on me during hey little song bird

So yeah. Enjoy?

Here’s the original post when I got this idea

And obvious disclaimer this are all the character versions of these people not the actual people thank you very much for you patience.

ANYWAY

//Life series Hadestown AU//

Eurydice- Jimmy Solidarity ✨the canary✨ you see the vision. This (joke?) is what started this whole thing so.

Orpheus- Still deciding between Scott and Tango

Tango pros:

- They are soulmates

- the goat horns are kinda vaguely like music/an instrument 👀

- ranchers duo is SO SWEET always

- their lives are tethered which in a way fits the story of the show and the myth.

- idk i just like this idea

- why are you still here? It’s over. Go home.

- c!jimmy seems to be on better terms with c!tango than c!scott soooo

Scott pros:

- they were husbands, Jimmy died first tragically (very accurate to original myth)

- THE FLOWER MOTIF- specifically a red flower. It’s just so perfect

- they saw each other in the afterlife

- Scott is always attached to flower husbands which seems fitting

- he likes to sing? Empires musical? I don’t know but it seems like it works

-flower husbands and desert duo have connections (you will see why this is important)

So yeah leaning towards tango for the vibes but leaning towards Scott for actual similarities in plot and such.

(If someone wants to say Joel or someone I will happily hear you out lol)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hades and Persephone- c!Grian and c!Scar/desert duo. The characters were once in love and then it grew into a a more bitter relationship. There are lots of potential parallels with Hadestown older lovers and desert duo. Grian and scar also have flower/plant motifs.

Grian as hades- He is a watcher, which seems fitting. Creator of the games seems fitting for god of death and also the industrial foreman Hadestown has. Original winner.

Scar as Persephone- Now that he is a winner, I personally love the idea of him being the earth, which is perfect for the god(dess) of spring. I also think his secret life skins going from green to black is an accidental parallel.

The only real issue with this is I want to incorporate Grian being the sun but that’s contradictory;-;

Hermes- My main idea atm is Martyn. This is mostly because storytelling and lore is very connected to him and his character. Who doesn’t love some eyes and ears AU/lore

I am also considering pearl just because I like that idea, her being the moon and being connected to g and s, etc

And Ren because he is such a storyteller/theater kid

The Fates- I have several ideas for this

-the watchers(and secret keeper.) Obvious reasons

- the other winners

-clethubs because they are a fun/good trio lol

- ren, pearl, Scott (in case I don’t have them as Hermes/orpheus)

- the remaining Evo members: bigb (also he was so creechur in third life ), pearl, and if he’s not Hermes, Martyn (also good since pearl and martyn have won)

__________________________________________

Based on a lot of the plant motifs imagine if instead of a carnation it was a poppy.

I’m very slow with drawing and have never written any kind of fic before but if people like this idea I’d love suggestions for the AU and I’ll definitely make some character designs :)

Character designs/descriptions:

Jimmy coming soon to a theater near you

Other posts for the AU:

Full circle lol

Potential name

How to include both Scott and Tango

#this started as a joke #slash weird idea #now here we are #hadestownx life series #life series Hadestown AU #traffic smp Hadestown AU #life series #traffic smp #3rd life #last life #double life #secret life #limited life #jimmy solidarity #Grian #good times with scar #flower husbands #ranchers duo #desert duo #Hadestown #musical theater #orpheus and eurydice myth #Greek mythology #when I am doing a minor in folklore and mythology studies- I really hope my professors never see this #life smp Hadestown AU

[danidandandadididan]

Give us Srpska hcs NOW

Before we start this cesspool of autism, keep two things in mind:

1. He has a total of 4 appearances so i’m only really using the design as a base cause he has no personality trait other than being like what? 7?

2. I’ve seen a few people mention before they shared head cannons about him that they’re in fact not from R. Srpska so their head cannons might not be accurate. However I’m from Srpska, so as far as you’re concerned I am Milorad Dodik

Also these might not be organized so please don’t mind it if I drop his trauma only to then say what his favourite Smiths song is

Anyway

1. He’s a Serbian Ultranationalist (shockingly)

2. Remember how in Serbia’s description it’s said that he’s tan though not as quite as his other neighbours? Srpska is the tanner neighbour

3. His eyes are ever so slightly slanted

4. Thick eyebrows for an easy threatening glare

5. Very raspy voice?? Can’t compare it to anything, just imagine a teenage Goran Bregović or something

6. He used to work in the Fabrics where he inhaled enough smoke to kill 7 grown adults (and that could be a factor in damage of his vocal chords)

-> other factors might be smoking or just yelling God bless

7. Obnoxiously masculine probably a misogynist

8. His hair is actually kind of curly, it became wavy later on in his life though. If he puts in enough effort he could bring the curls back (he won’t)

9. He carries a tarp around his waist most of the time, it’s something that stuck with him since the Ottoman period, and it’s easy weapon storage so

10. Massive fan of Serbian literature

-> specifically Andrić he brings him up any chance he can

If not Andrić then Dučić or Šantić

11. Calls Enis by his pre-conversion name, probably Stefan or something

12. Enis calls him Alija

13. I don’t see him getting along with Vojvodina ever, they probably don’t even understand each other when they speak

Voj: te vagy a legundorítóbb ember, akivel valaha találkoztam

Srp: الله أكبر

14. However he rubs off on her sometimes, like she probably accidentally uses Ijekavica when speaking in Serbian cause of him

(This is based off the fact that there’s way too many Bosnian serbs in Vojvodina)

15. He calls her Mađarica and she calls him turčin

16. Probably aromantic

17. Heterosexual or Bisexual, Idk depends on the day

18. He was born during the Ottoman period when Bosnia first converted to Islam and led to the massive split between Serbs and future Bosniaks. Immediately that was kind of odd for everyone, some were worried cause they didn’t know what it could mean, others kind of saw it as a torch in a dim room

19. Srpska was always “Ilija” before the 90’s, he rarely got any specific country name but he always represented the serbs of Bosnia one way or the other. Though during the ottoman period there’s a massive chance he represented the Raja in Bosnia, especially cause that will later lead into the creation of the Hajduks

20. Speaking of which: Srpska was a Hajduk

21. The ottoman period were his most crucial years of developing relationships with other yugoslovenes also under the rule, his opinions never changed even after it was over

22. He feels a Familial bond with Serbia and Hercegovina. Serbia for obvious reasons though Hercegovina is based off the fact that it was the initial “birth place” of what will become of the Bosnian Serbs, so you can technically say Srpska’s roots are in Hercegovina.

23. Though thats only for the familial bonds that were there since birth, there’s a single one he developed during his childhood and that’s his father-son bond with Montenegro. Based off the fact that Serbs of Bosnia always had a guaranteed second home there during the time period.

24. He was almost kidnapped multiple times in the “gift in blood” process (or Devshirm if you’re turkish enough) thankfully he managed to escape most of the time which is why he wasn’t turned into a janissary

25. I said this before but he received an injury to his frontal lobe which fucked him up pretty bad

26. Him and Montenegro had very different ways to deal with the Ottomans, Montenegro tried to make affairs with them while Ilija was already spilling his blood everywhere

27. he got his ass beat multiple times

28. His favourite Smiths song is Bigmouth strikes again

29. Hercegovina rubbed off on him to the point he developed a very obnoxious eastern Herzegovinian accent which means he unironically says stuff like Kastig and Bogalj but sometimes still uses Sarajevo slang and he sounds actually stupid

30. Idk exactly how he ages, he’s probably 15-17 nowadays physically

31. Hated the idea of Yugoslavia

32. Has been yelling about Unified Serbia since the 18th century

33. Him and Kosovo are more so rivals than enemies, Srpska points out his lack of hydroelectricity and Kosovo points out the lack of women who feel safe around him

34. Collects icons like Pokemon cards

35. Also has an icon wall

36. Shaved his hair off at one point in his life at least

37. Has a framed picture of Gavrilo Princip above his bed

That’s already too much already i’ll stop now

#yugotalia #aph srpska #balkantalia #turklet #yugotalia srpska #aph bosnia #aph herzegovina #aph montenegro #aph serbia #i hate him

[hehehehehenrik]

waaah hi!!! how do you draw old men??!! (and since you ar taking art reqs could you draw my termina oc??!! https://artfight.net/character/3925636.isko)

Heyy, hello!! Finally someone get to the ask box, thanks a lot, love contacting with people through internet y’know. Okay first of all here’s you’re guy just being clueless himself. Do the proportions and face in my way a bit, hope it’s ok, and made pompadour smaller because I’m not sure how to make hair physics on the bigger one?? Sorry 😔

And now to the question, which I really like, ‘cause I honestly don’t know? It’s the way my hand draws, it just that I’m being into old men’s for, idk, 4 years perhaps and I fucking can’t draw anything else lol. Like seriously, now I think that young face without wrinkles looks incomplete and now that 11 yo kid looks like he’s fucking 20 or whatever, thanks God I’m not drawing kids that usually haha.

But anyway I can say few things that helped me understand something. Obviously the way persons face getting older is rooted in the genetics, they life style, health, etc etc, but I singled out some main wrinkles in different age, I usually see it in anime so I call it anime technique haha, here’s the visualization:

I use it as a base wrinkles when I’m not sure about more unique details, pretty good way to handle it I think.

But the most important is to form the visual library in the brain, idk if that phrase is used in English art community, but in Russian it means to look at a lot of photos of things so that you wouldn’t need to look at the references, you have them in memory! For that I use Pinterest, just looking at actors, musicians, any other old people with a lot of photos of them and analyze the way their wrinkles goes.

Oh and also fun fact, let’s call it that, my mom once said that the most accurate way to understand the persona age is not by looking at their face, but it’s by looking at their neck and arms. The skin sags at neck no matter what, as much as I know, and hands also getting more dry and thin, also veins is more visible, while face wrinkles and skin sags different from person to person ‘cause genetics, health and other things.

And also a gray hair is pretty important, but this shit is even more personal and unique, some people may get first gray hair in the 20s, and some may not have a single strand of them at 40s at all! So yeah in that thing the best way is to read some medicine articles about it, and of course remembering the context of character background and life, yeah.

I can’t say many things about making unique wrinkles because there only two way that I do it; first, the character model or art already have all the needed details so my work is just to mimic it as close as I can(the way I drawing Caligura yeah); second, I just made it up based on the face silhouette I imagine character to have, in that case I just use my brain visual library(Domek moment because by some reason there barely any wrinkles in the game sprites and his portrait? Even thou the portrait description says that he’s face have wrinkles the way that it looks like he had the frown all his life, my brother in Christ, when person frowns a lot he’d get forehead wrinkles first of all! But nope, Domek don’t have any of it, ok?? And yeah I usually do the forehead wrinkles based on that fact of character).

Yeah, idk if there anything more I can say, nothing useful anyway so yeah thanks for the question and request!! (Ask box always open so feel free to write thing folks, I don’t bite. Usually.) Byee!!

#the fuck am I supposed to tag it #uh #hehenrik talks? #let it be it I guess

[realcatalina]

Is this the lost portrait of Mary I as Princess?

Let’s find out!

First of all, painting A(on left) is extremely similiar to this painting on right(painting B):

The face and proportions etc. But obviously B has very different background, some jewels are not in A. However they look as if made by same person. Or that one is an excellent copy, and the other is original.

This level of similiarity, is frankly astonishing. You’d think it is same painting after and prior to cleaning of later alterations! But it isn’t. Becase B is painting in Ashmolean Museum and nobody knows what lies beneath the layers of 19th century mixture on top of it. As far as I understand the description on their webpage, the painting not only wasn’t ever properly cleaned, it cannot be cleaned(with our current technology). They tried in 1976...but that had catastrophic results(thus those weird smudges.) 

So what could be the explanation for this photo?

1)One is copy by excellent forger/by excellent painter. We once seen it with portrait of Margaret Beaufort. The copy made about 100 years later was very true to original in most aspects. Most being the key word here. Very few artist manage to do the perfect copy. This explain some of differences, Especially B was later altered or if B is the copy. But imo both look they have some alterations.

2)They were twins(twin portraits). By twin portraits we don’t mean exactly same portraits, but two portraits which are nearly same, but have some minor differecences. Catherine Parr had twin portraits, where posture was same, outfit was nearly same, just the gown and jewelry was different.

Here, however the jewels seem to be same, exactly the same and gown also. Unless of course, the quality of photos or alterations are hiding something. Hence could possibly be the case, we just can’t see it at the moment.

3)They were made exactly the same originally, and somebody altered heck out of B. (well almost exact same, amount of forepart you see is different+ some minor differences in french hood(in A it is smaller slightly). But it could be that they were ment to be same.)

Yet it doesn’t make sense for two exact same original portraits of Mary to be made in 1540s.

Unless both are copies, based upon single original, which predates them both! This seems to be most logical to me, but it could be any of the prior options. 

I could only find photo of A, idk where it is located and B cannot be cleaned at the moment. Maybe in future technology will improve and it will be able, but right now we can’t tell what is altered what is not.

Because Ashmolean Museum doesn’t meantion the photo or any other version of this painting, I think it is sadly possible that this old photo is of painting which was lost during WW2. (usually the case with lost art.)

This 3rd option-both being copies, would explain why even A does not have perfectly accurate Tudor outfit. But at same time, it seems like A itself is subject of alterations, and some appear to be visible in the photo. 

In lower half, obviously the girdle is missing, the pattern of fabric of forepart seems off(possible altered), the shape of oversleeves is wrong(they were never this small), there is like big smudge?/dark area on right(which i marked orange), and more cuts of undersleeves are partly see-through on both sides.

B doesn’t have such weirdness as far as I can tell. Though same problem with lack of girdle and too small oversleeves(+ the too wide forepart). On A the gap around waistline revealing forepart is more historically accurate, and it existing suggest the original painting could have been done in late 1530s/ealry 1540s. Because with Parr the gap disappeared.

And this is oviously the six-cut style undersleeves. This might help us narrow down dating of Streatham portrait. And once again, it is on Mary!

But what is most interesting to me is that those shadows behind her head are as if she wore gable hood! One back veil pinned up, one down. 

Except both on same side! It’d have to be same part of the veil-which is impossible. You cannot have same part of veil both unpinned and not pinned.

I mean it is possible that Mary originally wore gable hood. This shape of french hood is strange, so it’d make sense for it to be alteration. 

Yet the way that upper part is facing suggest is not corresponding to the shape on right, this is not how gable hood should be. That loose veil should be on left(where now french hood is).

But perhaps the person who altered it, tried various alterations. Who knows, maybe they went from french hood to gable hood or other way around.

I am just saying it’s possible that original painting was showing Mary with gable hood and please don’t use this french hood’s shape as inspiration. It’s shape is not correct, though better than on B.

Painting A is not that bad for probably a a copy. I mean if you compare it with young Mary by Scrots(on right):

Then there is a lot of similiarities in the face. I know it is not perfect, but it is certainly one my new favourites depictions of Mary.

And now if you’re still reading check the date. 

It’s April the First, Happy April Fools Day!

Did I fool you? I created this painting using photopea and old photo of Ashmolean museum’s painting. Took me several hours.

So this entire post was a prank.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it and that I fooled many of you. 

#historical portraits #Tudor History #Mary I Of England #Queen Mary I #mary tudor

[mental-health-advice]

Hey I was 45 days clean until I recently relapsed this weekend I don't understand why but it feels like my cuts are never deep enough I see all these people on this app and they cut so deep and it makes me wanna go deeper and deeper but iccsnt my blade is so blunt so quick and I'm so fed up of feeling invalid yet I'm kinda addicted to the app but I still hate how invalid it makes me feel and like no one realises om struggling until I actually cut deep and I have a bf who I talk to alot abt this sh stuff but I feel so bad and I don't wanna put jt all on him but idk what else to do

Hey there,

First of all, 45 days clean from self-harm is a fantastic achievement! Self-harm, or rather not self-harming can be really hard to stop and there will be many ups and downs and sometimes even slip ups now and again along the road, but it does not diminish any achievements you have already made, so please do keep this in mind and be proud of yourself for being 45 days clean because this is incredible!

It can be really detrimental to one’s mental health when it comes to comparing one person’s self-harm to another’s. I say this because even if you see someone’s self-harm wounds that are deeper than yours, it does not mean that they are in more distress or are more valid than you with how much pain they may be in. In actual fact, no matter however deep or shallow your self-harm wounds are, everyone’s pain is valid and a self-harm wound/ scar does not show an accurate description on how or what may be happening for the person who has done it. Sometimes, the smaller the self-harm wound/ scar can show that a person may be hurting a lot more as opposed to those who may self-harm deeper. I guess what I am trying to say is that just like not being able to judge a book by it’s cover, you also shouldn’t try to judge one person’s self-harm to another’s as both may be hurting equally as much but they show their pain very differently. Your pain is valid, how ever you may be feeling is valid and you self-harming is your way of coping and this is completely valid too. I know that you said that you are addicted to this app, but try not to judge one person’s self-harm to another’s as they can both mean two very different things.

It’s great that you mentioned that you have your boyfriend on whom you can talk to and depend on when you really need him to be there. But I can also hear how much you don’t want to continuously put everything on him which is a normal way to feel. I know that hearing this may be scary, but what are your thoughts on trying to speak to a counsellor or a therapist, even if it’s on the phone or via web counselling. Sometimes talking to a trained professional can be really helpful and can also help to ease the need for you to depend on your boyfriend if this is something that is concerning you. Completely up to you of course, but speaking to a professional may be really beneficial, so maybe just something to think about!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #self-harm #validation

[astrodoll2]

PERSONAL OPINION ABOUT ASTROLOGY

Honestly I love astrology and I think it’s a really fun thing to learn about but I also feel like it’s really annoying when we try to define ourselves with a certain placement we have that we feel such a similarity to, if you’re using astrology to find yourself and understand yourself you will forever remain lost if not taking any action to do your own introspection apart from the definition of a certain sign, aspect, house placement whatever it is. I personally would advise to use astrology as just a fun interesting thing to look at and learn about which yes can be accurate but don’t limit yourself by putting yourself in the box of what a placement acts like and blame your behavior off of it. There’s only so many words in the vocabulary astrologers use to describe a sign when you as a human/spiritual being are so much more complex than that, you can always grow out of old ways astrology isn’t meant to define you it’s to show you some qualities you might have, even the challenging ones are just to enlighten you on what it is you should work on not to just accept it and stay that way, if that were the case you’d never evolve. I think another reason why people enjoy astrology especially the observations is just because they want to see how they’re perceived by other people, there is no one size fits all, please stop focusing so much on your perception to others and allow yourself to behave authentically.

I honestly want to quit astrology for this reason, it’s fun but people take things way too personally and define themselves off it, I sometimes miss when majority of the world didn’t know what birth charts were so I don’t have to see comments in peoples tiktoks about them doing the most mundane things and everyone in the comments trying to relate it with 100 different placements and signs. You can relate to other people based on similar traits you don’t have to always include astrology into it and just because you guys don’t have similar chart placements yet relate to them doesn’t mean you have to make yourself feel excluded. Idk just a personal opinion pls don’t hate me for it

I might continue to post but I just really want to encourage people sitting in silence or meditating and really finding yourself before looking at a description and claiming it or allowing yourself to detach from your chart and reinventing yourself if you’d like, you can do anything don’t LIMIT YOURSELF

#astrology #astro observations #astro notes #divination #tarotcommunity #witchythings #tarotdaily #tarot #free readings #tarot reading

[weizhiyuan]

10 songs on your playlist right now!

rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs, and then tag ten people. no skipping!

Hehe @heart-ming @petrichoraline @markpakin tysm y’all for tagging meee I don’t have one single playlist I stick with but Apple Music gives me my top 100 songs of the year which it updates somewhat frequently? So I’m basing this off of that lol

ahhh starting off with a silly one. I only have like 3 rhett & link songs in my top 100 but tbh I should have more cuz sometimes I just need to get silly and wacky so I listen to them for hours. People without wheels are buttholes. You know how it is. I also genuinely think rhett & link are musical/lyrical geniuses

one of my fav bl osts ever <3 also once again. This is cuz I’m back in a HIStory mood

HAYLEYYYYYYYY yeah obvo I’m gonna have some pfa on here. One of my favs

I usually just cry to this

another fucking rhett and link song… I’m not ashamed I actually think we should all live by the message in I like what I like

ALL EYES ON YOU BABYGIRL! Shoutout to that person who described it as their gay club on mars in 2199 serve. Most accurate description.

CITY COVERRRR <333 ofc I’m gonna have a msp ost in here I listen to them constantly. I listened to the city cover at least three times today

FINALLY PARAMORE. the whole album is on my top 100. I can’t wait to see this live. THERE WAS A FIRE!!! (metaphorically). BE THERE IN FIVE!!! (hyperbolically). So awesome.

I listen to a few early 2000s songs bc um idk they’re fun and I like them. Also I’m not even the biggest love mechanics fan ever but out of nowhere I formed a really strong association of this song to veemark. Even without that I love it tho <3

heheheh piwon heyy ofc they’ll be on here. Proud to say I saw end it live twice. Their hardest song

I’ll tag @dumpsterslugz (im gonna tag u in things unless u tell me 2 stop. We must overlap w pmore..) & @jyuubin !!

#I’m gonna try so hard to post this considering I don’t have wifi rn and everything is SO SLOW #listening to this playlist in order is chaos LMFAO #I got a lot more from each of these artists in my top 100 also like I was surprised more pmore or tbz or piwon etc. came on #instead I got rhett and link twice… GAJDHAJDB #no but fr they’re creative geniuses and the way they sing & harmonize is crazy good idgaf what anyone says.. #listening to them again now.. BUT ID RATHER NOT PAY WITH A PENNY THATS PERFORMED A COLONOSCOPY! #tag game #b.txt

[charlotte-of-wales]

as much as i’m sick of the “saint diana” narrative, i’m also beginning to be sick of whatever narrative charles diehards seem to be propagating. as you said, there’s a lot of nuance in the story and i can’t believe that, after the multiple tv/movie portrayals of this same story along with the never-ending conversations (which i am aware i am ironically still adding to), people still don’t get that it is just what it is. for example, charles or his friends or spin doctors or whoever tried to put charles’s side of the story out there by saying that diana’s mood swings and eating disorder made charles depressed and suicidal. While I can be like, oh that makes me sick af as if charles isn’t a grown ass man I can’t believe he’s trying to deflect blame by putting it all on his young wife, I also can acknowledge that charles struggled with his mental health too, but also not use that as an excuse to not think that he was a weak man at least with regards to how he dealt with that particular situation. at the end of the day, they’re just an ill-matched couple. and yes there’s also the huge age difference, which is def a factor but i also think it’s simplistic to portray charles as some predator. we have to see it through the lens of societal factors at play. fact is, in the past, it was more common for women to marry at a young age to much older men. i think even diana’s mother got married at 18 to diana’s father who was in his 30s. even my own grandmother married young and my mother met my father when she was a teenager and he was in his late twenties. while i think, there are definitely negative outcomes from practices that used to be common (which is why society evolves), it’s not accurate to portray it as though charles is some predator in the same league as, say, andrew for example. I think a lot of the gen z woke mob (i’m not sure if that is an accurate description of the demographic i am referring to but that’s my impression of who they are??) who buy into “rebel diana” actually see her too as a me-too victim. idk, but anyway my point is, as you said, nuance. even with regards to the issue of charles being a good or bad parent. as much as i hate to give any credence to anything harry says, it makes me roll my eyes when charles’ diehards pull out pictures of him being affectionate to harry in public as if that will prove that’s he’s a good father. i’m not saying he’s a bad father too, but he definitely wasn’t perfect or just a victim of evil PR machinations by one manipulative woman. even william had some grievances about charles’s parenting. although i’m probably just guessing on william’s part since he never explicitly says it. (but really what child doesn’t have grievances about their parents). the seeming obsession with family time is probably william trying to heal some childhood wound lmao (not that it should be used as an excuse to criticisms about their work ethic lol). the only difference i suppose with william & harry is that william understands the nuance more so has chosen to forgive.

I was actually listening to a the crown podcast (yea i know i’m sorry i still watch that show 😬) and peter morgan says something along the lines of how he still hasn’t lost interest because the relationship dynamics and all that in the family, etc. still keeps him fascinated. while i’m not 100% down with how things are portrayed on the crown, i lowkey understand him because i won’t be a hypocrite, i admit that yes the drama does keep me interested. and you know what keeps it interesting? the nuances.

word of the day is: nuance

#answered