#trish is not trash

[a-queen-of-the-clouds]

the whole Dominic/Noah/Trish situation is so bizarre but it's low-key validating the distrust I have always felt for BOTH of Miley's parents

#why are you. as a mom. marrying the fifty year old man that decided it was a good idea to hook up with your TWENTY YEAR OLD DAUGHTER #i've been side-eyeing trish for ages now #billy ray is trash but she is not that much better imo #y'all don't care about this but i wanted to rant keep scrolling lol

[marianokaz]

Based bat

#oc #oc art #sketch #trish arcanum #bat #bat oc #trash

[astronomiaa]

He is the literal worst but he is my favorite horrible person ever

#he is an awful being and deserves to be thrown into a trash pit but i am pulled in #by the potential complexity of his character #like he maybe couldve pulled a trish and decided to be good!! but said fuck that its ruin your life time tony #dmc gilver #dmc

[evilwinterfruit]

Hey how do you make discord friends? Or online friends?

Welp.

I found my friends through roleplay but that’s not everyone’s cup of tea.

I’m also in a WinterBaron discord and they are wonderful and social enablers.

But let’s be clear, I don’t know how I kept these friends. I have menaced them regularly, dragged them into this dumpster and probably ranted way too much.

I am a homebody so I talk to them more than my real life people.

They have stuck around out of pure stubbornness and I love them.

#basically idk anon #I have just acquired these people like a crow acquires shiny objects #like ‘ahh yes #you are precious’ #I shall bring you to my trash pile #gif may be related #illy tag #Trish

[luuurien]

Trish - Dead Herrings

(Ambient Noise Wall, Drone, Electronic)

Daniel Katz's ambient side project adds some surprisingly successful ambient/noise pieces to his discography, Dead Herrings a short but memorable collection of songs that explore feelings his quaint folk music as Quiet Commotion never could.

☆☆☆☆

While most of his music has been released as Quiet Commotion, Daniel Katz's central goals as an artist have always been to find conduits for expression that speak to him the most. For the past two years, making gentle, intimate D.I.Y. folk music has been the perfect way for him to capture those feelings, but Dead Herrings, his first album under the alias Trish (I wouldn't be surprised if the name came from his love of Trish Keenan, the late Broadcast frontwoman), brings something entirely different: long-form ambient noise pieces that expand turn the fuzzy electronics he's utilized here and there in his past music into their own world completely. As a result, Dead Herrings taps into feelings Katz's music never has before, his darkest release to date and one of the most magical, too. Built on distorted synth drones and fragile vocal recordings, Dead Herrings' sound is a familiar one within the ambient scene, but Katz's deeply emotional and extra sensitive artistry gives it a unique flair. There's an inherent loneliness and isolation to what he's doing here, the more disconnected and inhuman sound of these massive noise pieces pulling back from the intimacy of his Quiet Commotion work and laying his feelings out raw against a starless night sky. Across Red Grasshoppers, Kill Me's eight-and-a-half minutes, the howling synthesizers and barely-audible vocal layers sound like a black hole in the middle of your bedroom, endless and hopeless yet set in a familiar place in Katz's sound, Dead Herrings still an album born from Katz's homemade production process while creating a whole new world within it. And while not all the tracks here are as heavy as this one, there's still a gloominess that hangs above them all, the warped vocal recordings and distorted drones throughout The Burden We're Left With and centerpiece Storm Warning's static fuzz and shattered bass notes more crisp and arid, but there's still a feeling that you're being pulled into the outer reaches of Katz's mind, melancholy and anxiety he can only represent in his music through the unspeakable power of Dead Herrings' noise walls. It doesn't leave as much of a lasting impression as his other work - an inherent aspect of making more exposed, unorthodox music like this - but Dead Herrings still succeeds nonetheless by trading out Katz's usual heart-to-heart connection with a mysterious aura to everything. While it's not particularly exciting, you can't help but walk deeper into How to Never Come Out's swarm of noise, the occasional synth blasts or wispy voice recording just enough to make sure you stay under Katz's spell, and even the minute long Dead Herring has a nostalgic, fragmented air about it, Dead Herrings' spirited brand of ambient bringing a human core along the lines of Grouper and Yellow Swans that feels both timeless and like an individual's unique experiences at once. He doesn't give much background about the album, apart from calling it "...therapeutic to record" and his decision to split the album into two halves named Hollow Moon and Brighter Ravens - the former darker and depressive, the latter reserved and soothing - but that is more than enough to go off to understand what Katz is going for with Dead Herrings: peacefulness constantly interrupted with moments of tension and fear, the angelic vocal harmonies on Red Grasshoppers, Kill Me drowned out by hellish noise that keeps that serenity from ever taking hold. While it may not be the most exciting thing he's done, it's certainly one of the most emotionally vulnerable. While not as polished or resonant as the release he's put out in the past, there's something undeniably entrancing about Dead Herrings that makes it an essential listen for anyone even remotely interested in Katz's output. It's a strange, unexpected way for him to explore the darkest feelings ever put into his music without having to state it outright, able to pour his soul into crafting the sharp edges and gorgeous ambiance of Dead Herrings and let it speak for itself, rather than try to build a lyrical framework to speak these emotions into. I can't help but wonder about all the different events and heartache that brought him to making a song like How to Never Come Out, or to sneak short moments of warmth and softness into the jagged corners of Back Like Stars, Dead Herrings' appeal found not in the plain experience of listening to these songs, but letting yourself be fully swallowed into Katz's world. And you might not always know where he's taking you, but Dead Herrings is honest and upfront with everything, hiding no part of Katz's struggles here and letting the album be his most precious and fragile release yet. While he's let go of words, Dead Herrings is still the same heartfelt, plaintive Katz at its core.

#quiet commotion #trish #dead herrings #trash tape #ambient #ambient noise wall #drone #electronic #experimental #noise #2022 #8/10 #album review #2022 albums

[aalyssah]

We’re Enough

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 1,625

A/N: Btw, I know they said babyface!reader, but I forgot about it, and by the time I noticed, I was already halfway done and didn’t feel like restarting. Anyways, Hope You Enjoy!

Tonight was a special night for you and Damian. You have a match for a spot in Money in the Bank while Damian has a title match against Seth 'Freakin'' Rollins.

It's important to you because after all the years in WWE you haven't won a title, so winning this would get you one step closer, but you would obviously go after Asuka instead of your former Judgment Day member, Rhea.

Damian was also happy about his match considering WWE hasn't pushed him since the whole Judgment Day team, but tonight was the night you both prove your worth to the team and WWE universe.

You were lacing your boots up when a knock came at the door. "Babe, you done?" You heard Damian asked. "Come in!" The door opened revealing Damian and the rest of the members.

"Woah, babe, you look good." Damian complimented you, coming over and wrapping an arm around you. "Thank you, baby." He kissed your cheek, sitting on the couch next to Finn and Dominik. "Yeah, like really good. I might have to steal you for myself."

Rhea winked at you, earning a glare from Damian. "Alright Rhea, get off my girl, she's mine." You chuckled at their bickering, standing up and checking up your gear. "I'm done! How do I look?" You gave a small twirl while smiling.

"You look great and I'm sure you're gonna do great tonight." Finn added. "I hope so." You said picking at your nails. The group could tell you were getting nervous. "Hey, you're gonna do great. You're gonna win the briefcase and get Asuka's title, so both of our girls will have gold, and so I will too."

You smiled at Damian's small pep talk, boosting your mood. "Yeah, you're right. And I'm gonna win it for you." You pecked his lips, a blushing forming on your cheeks. "And I'll win the title for you." He returned the kiss, a grumble coming from Dominik's mouth.

"Okay lovebirds, let each other go and let Y/n win that spot!" You gave them one last smile before going to the gorilla. You were about to face Trish Stratus and were sure to win. Not to be rude, but even though Trish is a legend, she isn't as good as she used to be.

Your music played, fans booing and cheering for you. You put on your best heel persona and made your entrance. As you did a mini warm up in the ring, Trish's music played, with her coming out in her new gear. She was now like you - a heel wearing purple and wanting a spot in this special event.

When she entered the ring you both walked up on each other, chest to chest. "You really think you're gonna win this?" Trish asked with a questioning look.

“I don't think I'm gonna win, I know I am, and when you're on the ground in pain like an old lady, watching me celebrate, remember the trash you were talking."

Trish sarcastically laughed, throwing her head back. "Awe, does little Y/n have some balls? Well if I were you, I would watch out 'cause you never know what this 'old lady' can do." You both locked up aggressively, letting the match play out.

-

You had it. You thought you had it when you hit your finisher and went for the pin.

"1 2-"

The count stopped because Trish put her foot on the rope. The referee called rope break and let the match continue. You looked around shocked and full of anger. While you were arguing with the referee, Trish slipped out the ring, catching your attention.

You quickly went after her, noticing she was trying to go under the ring. You pulled her out, and put her back in the ring, but before you could enter your leg was yanked down, causing your face to hit the apron harshly.

You were then turned around and flipped in the air, face being met with a hard knee. You didn't have to look to know who it was. You knew that it was Zoey Stark from NXT 2.0 who just called to the main roster. She quickly threw you in the ring and Trish went for the pin.

"1 2 3"

*DING DING DING*

"Your winner of this match, Trish Stratus!"

Fans booed as Zoey and Trish celebrated. “Who’s the ‘old lady’ now?” Zoey taunted, laughing as you laid there. “Just face it Y/n, you’re nothing. You’re not good enough to make it to the big league, so just stay with your trash team and fangirl over your boyfriend!”

Those words hit deep, especially coming from Trish. You’ve always looked up to her, hell the point of you starting to wrestle was because of Trish. You wanted to be just like her. Trish and Zoey left the ring, leaving you to sit there alone.

You slowly got up and waved at your fans, thanking them for staying with you in the journey. Even people who hated you felt bad. They could tell you were hurt, seeing tears blur your vision. You walked backstage and met with your team.

It was silent as you looked at the ground. “Y/n, I’m sorry I wasn’t out there! I was gonna come, but-” You stopped Rhea’s rant. “It’s okay. It’s not like I would’ve won with your help.” You walked past them to the locker room.

“You did good. The fans loved you.” Finn said, trying to cheer you up. “Yeah, but I didn’t win.” Finn frowned at your negativity. “We’re still happy. You won in our eyes and that’s all what matters.” You let out a huff of annoyance at Dominik’s happy tone.

“Guys, you don’t have to lie to me. I didn’t win and no matter how much support I have or the amount of help I get, I’m not good enough. I’m nothing.” Damian felt his whole world crash down at you saying those last two words. ‘I’m nothing.’

Rhea was ready to say something, but Damian cut in. “I’ll talk to her.” Damian caught up to you as you sped walked to the locker room. “I swear if you guys don’t leave me alone, I’ll-” You stopped your sentence when you turned around. “Oh.” You both stood there awkwardly, staring at each other.

You broke down completely, tears spilling from your eyes. Damian quickly grabbed you and pulled you in for a comforting hug. “Shh, it’s okay. Let it all out.” He gently held you, rocking you from side to side.

You calmed down slightly to where sniffles could be heard. “Come on, let’s go to the couch.” He guided you to the couch, sitting you down. “Look, I know you're upset, but it’s okay. You did your best and I’m proud.” You nodded your head at his statement.

“I love you and I want you to know that I don’t care if you didn’t win, and neither does the team. We’re happy you got the opportunity.” He couldn’t finish his little speech when a knock came at the door. “Sorry to ruin your talk mate, but it’s time for your match.”

Damian placed a gentle kiss on your lips before standing up. “Go shower and once I get my title, you can hold it on our way to the hotel.” You followed his instructions, going to wash up.

-

Same thing happened for Damian’s match. He fought hard through the whole thing, but unfortunately you were in the shower for a while and missed half of the match, but you did see near the end.

Damian grabbed Seth by the neck and launched him into the corner, ready to charge at him, but Seth dodged. Seth tried hitting him, but Damian reversed, setting him up for a Razors Edge, but his arm must’ve been too weak, causing him to drop Seth.

Seth hit him with a super kick, following a rolling elbow before hitting his famous curb stomp. Fans cheered loudly as he got the 3 count, retaining his title. Damian sat there like you, holding his head. He felt so disappointed in himself.

He didn’t stick around for long, escaping the ring and going backstage. He instantly went to the locker room, pacing back and forth. “Who’s going in there ‘cause it sure ain’t me.” Dominik was the first to say. “Well I’m not either.” Rhea said, turning to Finn. “Don’t look at me, mate. I’m not going either!”

You brushed past them, opening the door. “Babe?” Damian’s attention snapped to you. “Before you say anything, I know how it feels. I feel like I’m nothing.” You sat next to him, holding his hand. “First I wanna say I’m proud of you, and even though you didn’t win, you’re still my champion.”

Damian could hide the smile that came on his face. Even though he’s upset, you always manage to make his day. “I know it’s just, after all this time of doing nothing, I had one chance to be in the spotlight and I fucked it up.”

You nodded your head in agreement, knowing how he felt. “I understand, but think about it babe. Who were the fans out there watching? Who were the fans showing respect to at the end? Who did WWE choose to fight tonight?” It was an easy answer. “Me.”

“You know why?” He smiled once he figured what you were getting at. “Because you’re enough. Hate or love you, that match would’ve never happened if it wasn’t for you.” He pulled you in for a kiss.

Pulling back, you rested your forehead against each other’s. “You’re enough.” Damian was quick to correct you. “We’re enough.” He grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

#damian priest #damian priest fanfic #damian priest fluff #damian priest imagine #damian priest x reader #damian priest smut #damian priest wwe #judgement day #wwe fluff #wrestling fluff #wwe smut

[appleinyoureye]

JJBA p.2 │ The Tongue of My Love Takes Many Forms

Summary: love language headcanons! what they have to offer and how to make their knees weak!

Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Characters: Giorno Giovanna, Mista Guido, Narancia Ghirga, Trish Una

Word Count: 787

Type: headcanons

part one

Giorno

Giving: words of affirmation, gift giving

Giorno is a master with words. He knows what, when and in which way should he tell you to make your day brighter. With a soft smile and reassuring glance, he tells you a compliment or two when you need it the most, and it makes you feel like the most special person on the whole freakin’ planet. Very often you don't hear these sentences directly from him – Giorno usually sends you a butterfly with a message spreaded on its wings, or a puppy that has your favorite snack tied to its collar. He is not afraid to use his stand to make the one he loves feel even more adored.

Receiving: physical touch, words of affirmation

Gio often drifts away with his thoughts, his mind busy with developing new plans and ideas. It may be tiring for his smart brain, and nothing helps him in these moments like your soft touch, grounding him to reality again. Your fingers brushing his cheek and catching his jaw, sweet words leaving your mouth are always enough. Whenever you see him struggling with anything, catch his hand in yours and watch the sparkles dance in his precious eyes.

Mista

Giving: words of affirmation, physical touch

My favorite boy, baby boo, the love of my life is all about adoring his loved one. He makes sure that you know your worth, and that your insecurities poof! go away. Mista is always, always telling you how good you look, how smart you are, how amazing you do things, and, uhh, how perfect you are! And be ready for a lot of hugs and kisses! He has to maintain physical contact with you almost all of the time. Brushing your hair every morning, tracing small circles with his thumb on your skin in public places, and hugging and spinning you after a long time apart. That’s how Mista shows he’s in love with you.

Receiving: physical touch, acts of service

Okay, I think we can all agree that this boy way too often gets his cute ass into trouble. Always somehow surviving, he comes to you vulnerable with scratches, cuts and all sorts of wounds. And your duty is to help him. Gently caress his body with a cotton swab, wrap the damaged skin in bandages, put cute band-aids on his face, massage sore spots. Just pamper him like a baby! He knows he can do it all by himself, but your hands just do the magic, you know?

Narancia

Giving: acts of service, gift giving

Sometimes you think that your boo has two left hands, but it’s the thought that counts, right? Narancia makes you breakfast, but always burns one side of a pancake or makes the scrambled eggs way too dry. He cleans your desk, but accidentally throws away an important document (don’t worry, later he’ll duck in the trash can so he can find it!). He wants to make it up for his clumsiness by giving you all sorts of trinkets! He’s like a magpie. Anything that looks like something you may like (or is sparkly) he gets for you because I can’t say that he buys everything…

Receiving: words of affirmation, gift giving

He’s your good boy, your cutie-patootie, your boo-boo-bae-bee. Tell him that. Praise him. Narancia needs it, and you know it! Remind him how much he means to you. How brilliant his ideas are, even though sometimes they make no sense! Just appreciate his efforts, and I can promise you, that you will see his imaginary tail wagging. And if you tell him how much he means to you, and then give you something to eat? Sheesh! The boy may even cry from happiness.  

Trish

Giving: quality time, words of affirmation

She’s not the best at showing it, but Trish cares for you. She surely does. That is why she suggests that you should take her more on dates! Like, c’mon, how could you not think that Trish wants to spend more time with you you to take her on yet another date this weekend? That she deserves it? Pfft! You can still make it up to her by watching a movie marathon with her. And if you notice her hints, she may even praise you! 

Receiving: gift giving

Okay, now, I sure hope you know what to do with her. Give her gifts that she deserves! Trish feels the most loved when she’s appreciated. She may give the vibes of a gold digger, but it’s totally not that. Trish is reassured of your feelings when you put an effort when choosing a gift she may like, when she gets something she’s told you once and you still remembered! It’s the thought behind the gift that counts the most, plus, who doesn’t like pretty things?

#apple!writes #jjba x reader #jjba #jjba headcanons #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno x you #jjba imagines #jjba x you #mista guido #mista x reader #jjba fluff #mista x you #narancia x reader #narancia ghirga #trish una #trish una x reader #jjba part 5 #mista fluff #giorno fluff

[rohansoutsidemydoor]

My genderbent! Trish is called Trash btw

#jjba #jojo #trish una #jjba trish #jojo trish #giorno giovanna #jjba giorno #genderbend #narancia ghirga #jojo vento aureo #vento aureo #jjba vento auero #jojo golden wind #jjba golden wind #golden wind fanart #golden wind jjba #golden wind #jjba part 5 #jojo part 5 #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojos bizarre adventure fanart #jojos bizzare adventure fanart #jojos #marc arts #marc posts

[starry-snippets]

jjba (jotaro, kakyoin, avdol, josuke, rohan, giorno, bruno, abbacchio, trish, mista, narancia) + aesthetics you suggest/dress them in

images are from pinterest! 

jotaro - techwear

✩ if you BEG you could get him to wear a techwear outfit that still maintains his love of gold brooches and chains. it’s not even that he doesn’t like the aesthetic it’s just kind of silly to him at first. sure he wears two belts, but two belts and a backpack on his chest and a smaller one on a thigh garter? um no. eventually caves when you show him something he finds really cool and man he has money. bad choice (or is it a great one?) he is fully committing elements of techwear into his every day outfits now. he’s dangerously hotter now too um

kakyoin - goblin/cryptid core (with punk influence!) 

✩ is a very creative guy who has a unique style and he’ll use that to his advantage! this would begin with a date idea of designing shirts or jeans and he has so much fun. now he has several pairs of fun jeans and a patch jacket he’s working on. when he’s dressed up like he’s ready to explore the forest he’s in such a mood to! get ready to spend time in the woods watching hierophant poking bugs with sticks and kakyoin showing you different types of beetles while you look for cryptids with a nearly empty flashlight 

avdol - bohemian/hippie 

✩ kind of related to his current style and that’s what he’s very willing to give it a try. loves the dramatic sleeves and ruffles, truly enjoying how snazzy they make him feel. also appreciates the jewelry! especially if you make it for him or buy it for him because it’ll remind him of you. loves fun patterns so he’ll enjoy combining them in unique ways, also appreciates the whimsical element of the layered fabric and prints 

rohan - avant garde 

✩ craziest dude in the world I swear. will wear anything just about if you make it sound revolutionary. tell him a trash bag is the next-in fashion trend and he’ll disbelief you to no end but will secretly be curious and try it out. helps he has the confidence to rock anything he tries. to be fair, when you dress him up you’re doing it mainly to see if he looks good in everything and you’re sad to see he does, indeed, look good in absolutely anything 

josuke - scene/punk

✩ loves the abrasive elements in punk! loves the colors and being able to make bracelets with you aspect of scenecore. in general he enjoys how he can look tough and intimidating but feels like the colorful accents really soften that depending on how much he accessorizes. doesn’t wear it too often though, really depends on where you two are heading. does let you dress him up fairly often though! 

giorno - cottagecore

✩ isn’t entirely against or for trying it out. is kinda confused as to why you want him to. he’ll eventually say to go for it. depending on what you put him in he will really like the aesthetic and wear it on your dates around town. isn’t a big fan when you ask if he’ll wear a skirt, but when you actually order one he really enjoys the length and the twirl. when you go on a picnic and he wears it, he just feels like he’s safe with you and away from the trivial stresses of his outre life 

bruno - coquette/angelcore

✩ like giorno, he isn’t for or against. leans to okay almost immediately however. he’s curious and very fluid with how he presents, so he’ll agree to just about anything within reason. when you dress him up he feels so ethereal. absolutely loves it? he likes how he’s wearing traditionally feminine garments but doesn’t feel effeminate. he enjoys the outfit and would likely wear it again, especially on a date with you 

abbacchio - goth 

✩ doesn’t want you to for a while despite sharing things with the style already. just feeling a bit prideful. does cave and let you do him up completely, probably because he had a drink. ABSOLUTELY loves the result however. the drama of the sleeves and the flair of his pant’s make him look so long and slender, like a real life dracula. finds the chains excessive but misses the significant effect they had when he was wearing them. definitely enjoyed trad goth makeup more than he’s willing to admit 

narancia - bubblegum b✩tch 

✩ likes it because he feels tall and assertive with the big boots on. will not wear it out of the house unless you’re really good at convincing him. doesn’t have the toughest skin so this does help him build his confidence and self-esteem even outside of his appearance. just feels so adorable, especially with you hyping him out. if he does agree to going out you’ll wear a super feminine outfit too or a suit, confusing traditional mindsets while having a super fun date 

mista - rockstar 

✩ really gets into his role when those skin tight pants are on. if you go out for dinner he’ll act like he’s the most important man ever and it surprisingly works. he will make use of the leather jacket you got him and would ask you to decorate it if that’s something you’re interested in. will wear elements of the outfit separately somewhat often but the entire outfit probably just on certain dates 

trish - indie

✩ loves lots of patterns so she appreciates the wiggle room of indie! she already has an impeccable sense of style but this is her go to when she’s heading out to museums, picnics, etc. trish always adds her unique flair to her outfits, often making edits to her shirts and skirts 

#jjba #jjba x reader #jojos bizzare adventure x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #fluff #jjba part 3 #jjba part 4 #jjba part 5 #jjba x y/n #sfw #jotaro kujo #kakyoin #josuke #rohan #trish una #mista #narancia ghirga #mohammed avdol #bruno bucciarati #abbaccio #jotaro x reader #kakyoin x reader #rohan x reader #josuke x reader #avdol x reader #mista x reader #narancia x reader #trish x reader #bruno x reader #abbacchio x reader

[ohbutwheresyourheart]

I have far too many half-written things in my google docs that have never seen the light of day, so I've decided to start buffing up the best ones and posting them unfinished. Maybe I'll come back to them later, or if not at least someone will hopefully enjoy reading them as they are.

First up: fragments from a WIP based on the concept that Eva did not actually die when the twins were children; instead, she got caught in the magic field of a Geryon and sling-shotted to the middle of Devil May Cry 5. What I wrote revolved more around the aftermath, and Eva trying to come to terms with the modern world, her losses, and not knowing what happened to her sons.

The building is echoing once the buffer of trash is removed. High ceilings dissipating into shadowy un-shapes. Dark corners shifting like predators turning and twisting. It’s too like the manor in those early days before she tamed it as Sparda had; made it respect her for all she was a mortal woman.

Made it respect her because she was a mortal woman.

She feels so tired, though; too tired to start a fresh war. So Eva lives with the shadows and whatever they may hide. At least it’s not outwardly hostile. Even if it was, by rights she shouldn’t be comfortable here.

This domain, this world, empty of her sons.

----

Swollen and fragile all at once, like a wine glass held too long in hot water - ripe for shattering with a single thoughtless move.

Midmorning is an inauspicious time for any demon to appear; Eva uses the reprieve to walk the city streets. Capulet is smaller than Red Grave but still a decent-sized city in its own right, checking off all the requirements: university, libraries, museums, churches, arts district, cheerful cafes dotting the sidewalk…

A few months ago -- no, thirty years ago -- she would have delighted in browsing the art supplies store, or checking the museum events for child-friendly exhibitions (but boys you must behave), or laughing into her coffee as two eight year olds descended into extensive debate on the merits of chocolate cake over strawberry tarts.

Now she buys peppermint tea in a to-go cup and takes it to the park.

Capulet is unexpectedly windswept in August, errant breezes stirring up the parched over-long grass around her ankles and pulling her hair, strand by strand, out of the confines of her ponytail.

The park is quietish; the younger children are out in force but a university city never really feels alive during the summer while the students are away. She follows the winding gravel path towards the duck pond at the centre and circles it once, twice. Watches other mothers with children tossing breadcrumbs to the ducks; running; playing.

“Why don’t you go and play, boys? Just--”

“Be careful, I know.” Vergil’s eyes, already so much older than they should be. “Why even try when we have to pretend?”

She’d never come up with a good enough answer for him.

Trish finds her on a bench. She sits down without ceremony or preamble, sunglasses her one concession to the summer day but otherwise as unaffected by the August sun as she no doubt will be by the coming autumn chill.

(Eva is rapidly coming to dislike Trish. Not because she is a demon, per se, but because it’s so fucking demoralising to constantly see the perfect version of herself; an Eva who will never succumb to sagging tits or a bloated stomach or even messy hair.)

“Are you all right? You’re sitting there like a ghost.”

Eva sips her tea to save herself from an immediate response. The cup is almost empty and the dregs are cold; she doesn’t remember drinking it.

“I’m fine.”

“Mm.” Trish doesn’t look as though she believes Eva in the slightest, but thankfully doesn’t push the issue. “Well, in that case, I have a favour to ask.”

“Oh?” Eva becomes instantly wary. Even as despondent as she feels, she knows better than to thoughtlessly promise a demon anything.

Something flashes in Trish’s eyes, gone too quickly for Eva to define it. The slow smile that curls the corners of her lips is equally inscrutable.

“Don’t worry, it’s not a favour for me, exactly,” she assures her, waving a perfectly manicured hand (again that familiar burst of jealousy towards a creature that could control their human physical appearance at will; Sparda had never had a bad hair day in his life--). “Lady heard you’re quite the dab hand with magic and she wanted to know if there were any goodies you could make for her, or teach her, or… whatever, really.”

“Last I saw, Lady has a tongue in her head,” Eva replies coolly.

Trish’s smile widens. “Oh, she does, but she’s out of town this week and when I saw you I thought I might as well ask now as later.”

“Mm.” Now it’s Eva’s turn to give Trish a searching look. She taps her nails (not perfectly manicured by any definition of the term) against her empty cup, wishing there was some left; she could make use of a timely pause to sip her tea and give herself a moment to think. “Well, I’m happy to talk to Lady about what she needs when she’s back in Capulet.”

“I’ll pass the message on.” With one flowing, elegant movement, Trish gets to her feet and stretches like a languid cat. “I’d better get going. See you around, Eva.”

“Yes, see you,” Eva mutters to her back; Trish is already going, sashaying through the park like she owns the place.

Something about this doesn’t smell right and Eva has sense enough to be cautious.

And yet… When she returns to Devil May Cry, she spends time going through the cupboards she’s restocked and checking her herbs. She uses the laptop Nero and Nico set her up with and finds websites that sell the supplies she needs -- whether advertised for witchcraft or otherwise -- and prepares lists of useful tricks; things that used to give her the edge she needed to survive another night.

It might not be useful for Lady -- if, indeed, Lady even asked the question -- but it’s useful for Eva. Practically, because she can’t be too careful even now, and in the abstract;  when she goes to bed that night, Eva sleeps better than she has in weeks. Her hands might be dry and her nails might be broken, but with her fingertips stained and smelling of herbs once again she almost begins to recognise herself.

----

To Eva’s palpable surprise, Lady does actually swing by Devil May Cry the following week.

“Trish told me she saw you,” Lady explains as she unholsters Kaline Ann and sets her down on the desk. “Did she tell you the kind of thing I was looking for?”

Because there is truth in this cover story that Lady and Trish have concocted between themselves. Yes, mainly they want to check on Eva, but it also never hurts for an old bitch to learn some new tricks.

And how does Eva look? Less like Trish than she used to; Eva has taken to shoving her hair up in a loose bun at the back of her head (the better, Lady assumes, to keep it out of her face now she was no longer playing lady of the manor) and has swapped her elegant black gown for a serviceable sweater and jeans. On her feet, Doc Martens. On her hands, broken nails and stained fingertips. In her eyes - fire.

“In passing.” Eva is - suspicious? Well, Lady can’t entirely blame her for still finding her feet with all of them, particularly Trish - though Trish herself had taken it as a compliment that Eva considered her enough potential trouble to be wary of.

“You’re welcome to anything I can teach you, although…” Eva’s gaze slides across and down to Kalina Ann. There is something distinctly hungry (covetous?) in her eyes. “You seem to have the offensive side pretty well covered.”

Lady grins, one firearms aficionado to another. “Give Nico a call if you want anything - you can’t beat the Goldsteins for guns and for you she’ll probably do it for free.”

That does it: the reserve cracks and Eva grins back. It is not the kind, motherly smile that Dante probably remembers. This is the smile that a tiger would give you if it could.

“Noted.” Eva pulls out a stack of books from one of the desk drawers. “Now, where do you want to start?”

It does not take long for Lady to be very, very glad she arranged this meeting. Eva is an absolute trove of knowledge. Much of it Lady already knows, and some of it is interesting but not strictly relevant -- Lady’s fighting style being much more full-on than Eva’s tactics lend themselves to -- but she still picks up plenty.

----

Nero is a dutiful, darling boy. He checks in with her, regular as clockwork, trying to disguise the anxiety in his voice. He doesn’t know how to be with her, but he tries nonetheless.

He asks her, often, to visit him in Fortuna; to meet his girlfriend and the children they have adopted. Eva demurs and lets him think she’s still putting off the inevitable label of grandmother. It’s not a total lie, but it’s far from the primary reason. Maybe, perceptive as he is (and he is; Sparda’s eyes staring at her, seeing straight through her despite the un-Sparda-ish mouthing off), he knows that, too, and is giving her time.

It’s just… what if they come back, and she isn’t here to greet them? What if they think she’s truly gone again? She can’t hurt her boys like that a second time. She can’t let them down again when they look for her, reach for her. God knows she was worth fuck-all to them then and even less now, as much protection as a paper cut-out, but if they know she’s willing to put herself between the two of them and danger, then… that’s something, isn’t it? However little, it’s something.

The latest attempt comes on a late autumn evening. October is slipping away, each dark evening bringing them a little closer to Halloween. The most enterprising of the local children have already ventured out trick-or-treating with the excuse that the 31st is a school night, and Eva watches troupes of ghosties and ghoulies and long-legged beasties parade past the windows with a bittersweet smile. She bought a bag of candy but doesn’t really expect any trick-or-treaters; Dante, with good reason, didn’t take pains to encourage the local kids to come calling.

Nero and Nico pull up, a welcome interruption to her descent into melancholy, out of breath but radiant from their latest skirmish. They stop by Devil May Cry on the pretence of leaving word for Morrison that payment is due, but Nero could do that himself on the little computer phone he carries around with him. In reality, they’re checking on her.

Eva doesn’t mind, really. She likes the company, and the kids (God, she calls them kids, they’re not that much younger than she is) are energetic; it’s hard to be actively maudlin when refereeing a shouting match. Nico especially is nosy and almost impossible to brush off or offend. On every visit, she wheedles a few more secrets out of Eva’s recipe books. Lately, Eva has been amusing herself by giving her tidbits and letting Nico reverse-engineer either the process or the product. Usually, she gets it right. Occasionally, she comes up with something better.

Tonight, though, Eva feels even harder to cheer than normal. Nico is put off by a wad of cash to get takeout -- Sparda laid the bounty of the world at her feet, but Nero and Nico are giving her a world tour laden with grease -- leaving Eva and Nero alone for half an hour. Nero has unchecked notebook privileges, as long as he’s careful with them, and he flicks through the entries thoughtfully.

“How did you learn all this stuff in the first place?”

“It depends which stuff we’re talking about.” Eva leans over his shoulder, pointing to the pages. “Sparda gave me a lot of them; things he’d picked up over the years, I don’t even know where from. But this one -- here -- that was from a hunter I partnered up with a lot in the early days. These tisanes were from my aunt. I used to say she should have been born a mediaeval herb-woman, except they’d have hung her for a witch.”

But Nero has stopped looking at the pages. He’s looking at her instead; thoughtful, in a way that is so Vergil it makes her heart skip a beat.

“What were they like, your family?”

“My family...” How long has it been since family wasn’t Sparda and the boys? How much longer since it meant the house she grew up in, and the people who populated it? “Oh, they -- they’re long gone. Better not to dwell. I have the boys,” Except she doesn’t. “And you, of course.”

Nero isn’t diverted, not for a moment, and the tilt of his eyebrows is pure Vergil. But he lets it go for now.

They taper off into silence. It lasts for a few minutes, Eva turning over possibilities in her mind. The words, when they come, are nevertheless a surprise; something she hadn’t meant to let loose.

“My father was a twin,” she says abruptly. “He and my uncle were thick as thieves. I always used to hope I’d have twins -- they say it skips a generation, so I thought it was likely I would -- and then they’d both always have a friend.”

She lets out a hollow little laugh. A friend. What a fucking fairytale.

Where did she go so wrong? Yes, the boys had always had their spats, but Eva had chalked that up to a mixture of their demonic blood and the marked differences in their personalities, watchful but not truly worried. She tried to encourage them to get along, to talk out their problems, but had also comforted herself that it was something they would grow out of as they got older and developed a bit more emotional maturity. Siblings fought; it was perfectly normal. Even she and Elijah--

Eva squeezes her eyes closed. She can’t think about Elijah right now.

A warm, calloused hand covers her own and Eva opens her eyes to see Nero watching her, his expression unusually serious.

“It’s not your fault,” he tells her, quietly but with a forceful conviction behind his words that reminds her of Sparda. “Yeah, they’re idiots, and they’re both kind of fucked up in their own ways, but it’s not your fault. They’d be a lot worse if it hadn’t been for you.”

Is that true? Eva isn’t sure which is worse; that she has ruined her boys, or that they would somehow be even worse without her.

But none of this is Nero’s problem. Grandson, she reminds herself once again. Grandson. Not a peer, not a comrade to lean on. A young man she needs to protect.

Pull yourself together, Eva.

----

Eventually, Eva gets sick of sitting around Devil May Cry waiting for something to happen.

She has never been a passive person. Eva makes things happen. Ever since Lady asked for some tricks to help her on hunts, Eva has been building up her supplies again. Restocking her herbs, potions, and powders. Dusting off Dante’s collection of magic books (a surprisingly comprehensive collection; Vergil had always been the bookworm, while Dante was too much of a fidget-bottom to sit still for five minutes)  and reminding herself of her favourite cantrips. Eventually, she contracts Nico to make her a pair of guns like her old ones.

The last time Eva felt so lost, she was drowning in grief for her husband and it ended in tragedy for her sons. She will not make the same mistake twice. Reaching back through the years, breaking down the walls she had so carefully built up, she remembers how it felt to be fifteen and alone; fifteen and desperate; fifteen and unstoppable.

Then she asks Morrison for some work.

As a young woman trying to break into this line of work, Eva had gotten used to the looks she elicited from these “brokers”. The initial amusement, thinking she’s joking. The surprise when they realise she isn’t. The patronising shake of the head as they assure her this is no work for a pretty little lady like her. Finally, the shock and anger as they hastily reconsidered their position with a gun jammed up against their throats.

Over time, she’d gotten a reputation for being an infernal bitch who was extremely good at what she did, which meant the work came easier. Eventually, by the time she met Sparda, she’d been running her own jobs without a broker at all - unless they were coming to her for a favour.

But that was then. Now she’s back to square one. Unproved. Untried. Untested. It’s aggravating but Eva knows she’ll have to just deal with it if she wants an in.

Because Eva is pretty sure she can talk Morrison into kicking a few jobs her way. Asking Lady, or Nero, or Trish to share, though? It will all be there - amusement, surprise, disbelief - and the worst thing of all is that they will be speaking not from baseless stereotyping but all too real knowledge.

Dante told us all about it, Eva. You barely lasted a minute when the demons attacked, isn’t that right? This is way too much for you.

No. She will work until she has beaten the softness out of herself. Until she can go back to them on an even footing. Until it’s second nature once again to have gunpowder on her clothes and the spark of magic at her fingertips. Until the Underworld has learned to fear Sparda’s whore again.

Then she will get their respect, rather than their pity.

Morrison drops by periodically for coffee and a chat. There hasn’t been any money-grubbing yet; Dante owns the office outright - Eva has seen the deed and it’s real enough - and the bills are being paid out of his last earnings. It won’t last forever, but it’s been enough to take one worry off Eva’s mind so far.

Instead, Morrison seems to simply enjoy her company, or maybe he just can’t kick the habit of showing up at Devil May Cry to see Dante. Whatever the reason, Eva enjoys his visits and his dry humour. What Morrison makes of her, she’s not sure; Eva had told him, in a tone that made it clear she was lying, that she was Trish’s long-lost sister. Morrison had simply chuckled and refrained from asking any questions.

That’s one thing Eva always did like about brokers; they’re the kind of people who don’t ask difficult, unnecessary questions.

“You’ve got this place looking real good, Eva.” Morrison looks around with genuine admiration and gestures with his lit cigarette to the spider plant growing ever larger in the corner. “Way better than Dante ever did. Mother of God, the state I’ve seen this office in… well. Maybe best not to elaborate too much there.”

Eva laughs, remembering how Dante always tried his best to weasel out of his chores. Even getting him to make his bed was a challenge. It seems he hasn’t improved with age.

“It’s certainly been quite the project. But, now that it’s done, I’ve been thinking I need something else to do.” Eva watches Morrison carefully, waiting for his reaction. “Do you have any work for me?”

Morrison smirks. “Getting bored already? Yeah, I got a few things on the back burner - the kind of stuff the other ladies think they’re too good for, if you catch my drift, and the kid really has got his hands full.”

...Okay, that was absurdly easy. Eva narrows her eyes, but Morrison doesn’t look like he’s trying to mock her. On the contrary, when he sees her expression, he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey, I don’t control the work that comes in! Besides, pay is pay, am I right?”

“I’m looking for hunting work,” Eva says pointedly, wondering if he’s mistaken her meaning.

“Yeah, yeah, I got you.” Morrison chuckles as he takes a drag on his cigarette. “What, were you expecting me to say no? If nobody will do the work, I won't get paid either.”

“I…” Eva is floored. All of her preparation, all that time spent rehearsing her arguments, and it turns out she doesn’t need any of them. “I was expecting, uh…”

“Pushback?” Morrison gives her a knowing look. “Do you really think I’d have lasted this long with those ladies if I trotted out that kind of line? As far as I’m concerned, if you hang around with Dante, Lady, and Trish, then you know what you’re doing and you can take care of yourself.”

Morrison pulls a notebook out of his pocket and rifles through it, humming under his breath. He tears out a page and walks over to lay it on Eva’s desk.

“Here are the details. Just give me a call when you’re done with them and I’ll arrange your payment. Damages come out of your cut, mind you. If everything goes well, I’ll see what else I have for you.”

----

It really is grunt work, but Eva doesn’t mind; she’s not arrogant enough to think she could jump single-handedly into something like Red Grave, guns blazing.

The job also isn't urgent - hence Morrison being lackadaisical about bullying someone into taking it - which gives her the leisure of reconnaissance and planning time.

An empusa nest out on some waste ground that a local developer bought before noticing his unexpected squatters. Straightforward enough, although Eva takes more precautions than she thinks are necessary just in case. After all, she’s seen her judgement is far from perfect.

But in the end, all goes smoothly. No nasty surprises. Just some nasty stains on the concrete from empusas blown to kingdom come. Eva grimaces at them, hoping they don’t count as “damages”. The land is being developed anyway, right? Surely they’ll be putting down fresh tarmac?

In the end, Morrison does take a cut from her pay, but it’s less than she feared and so Eva swallows it with as much good grace as she can muster. The stack of notes is a reassuring weight in her hand. Ballast, though for (or against) what, she’s not entirely sure. The important thing is that she’s done a competent enough job that Morrison leaves her with the details of another couple of jobs. In this way a reputation is built.

“Morrison,” Eva calls out just before he leaves.

Morrison pauses on the threshold. There’s a beat before he looks back at her over his shoulder and Eva gets the impression he knows exactly what she’s about to ask.

“Do you think he’s coming back?”

Because Morrison is not Trish, or Lady, or Nero. He does not know her connection to these people. To Dante. So he has no reason to lie to her or spare her feelings.

He sucks in a breath, considering. “You know, I’d gotten to the point where I never thought I’d see anything Dante didn’t come back from. So many times I thought he was in way over his head, only for him to walk away laughing. But this job… this felt different from the start. Gave me a sort of -- premonition, you might say.”

A soft hum; something that might have been a laugh, if there was any humour in it, and Morrison shook his head.

“The truth is, Eva, I don’t know. I really don’t. He could come waltzing back in here tomorrow, carrying a pizza and laughing at us all for ever doubting him. Or we might never see him again.”

Eva sinks slowly into the desk chair, feeling the truth of it in her bones. A tidal wave of exhaustion crashes over her, threatening to drown her in one clean swoop. Tired of worry. Tired of uncertainty. Tired of never even having the cold comfort of a body to bury. Tired of that tiny speck of hope that even now refused to be snuffed out completely because, however ridiculous it was to expect it, there was still the chance--

“I knew someone else like that, once,” she hears herself say. “He never did come back.”

Morrison gives her a searching look. He seems, for a moment, to be on the verge of saying something more, but in the end refrains. Instead, he tips his hat to her.

“You take care, Eva.”

“Yeah,” Eva replies distantly. “You too, Morrison.”

----

The work is important for more than Eva’s ego.

Her blood sings in her veins once again. The hum of power at her fingertips, like the whine of electricity. A promise, maybe even a vow if you were so inclined to call it such, that one day in the none-too-distant future a small slice of the world would once again turn at Eva’s call and beckoning. She has known this once before when playing lady of the manor. Now, the power is both weaker, for lack of Sparda’s force bolstering her, and sweeter, for knowing it is all of her own clawing and devising.

Her blood sings and Eva tastes iron and lightning on her tongue. Her fingers smell of metal and herbs and something no mortal can rightly put words to; the tang of the Underworld and the burning sulphur of demons.

When Eva looks at her reflection in the chipped bathroom mirror and sees an old, familiar light in her eyes, she knows it is time.

Very little magic needs to be complicated. The point is will, and the directing of it. For those unfamiliar with the craft then the trimmings of rituals and candles can go a long way in finding that direction.

For those who live long enough to become old hands, just the thinking, coupled with the right runes, is enough. Eva takes a sharp knife, a handful of herbs, and a silver-backed mirror (in this, old ways are better; a mercury mirror would work better still, but this will do for now)... and she searches.

Blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, soul of my soul, I seek thee now. Come to me, come to me, come to me…

It is a powerful spell. Kinfinding may not be enough to physically draw her boys forth from the Underworld, but it should at least show them to her in the scrying mirror.

Eva seeks until her blood runs dangerously thin and her head pounds and her vision begins to darken. She seeks further still until she knows herself at the very precipice of what she can safely come back from… and only then, with great reluctance, does she let the spell go.

She has not seen them, either of them, even once.

----

Eventually, it feels meaningless to even keep up the pretence she thinks the boys are coming back.

What has happened to them is almost immaterial. The nightmare scenarios are so numerous that eventually they blur together into one long snuff film that leaves her numb. Like Sparda, they were there and then they were not. Like Sparda, she will never know what exactly happened.

Devil May Cry becomes part tomb, part cocoon. She has saved enough money to keep Morrison at bay for a while even after Dante’s funds run out, and she continues to take work for the sake of it, though she doesn’t keep track of her income versus expenditures. If or when the money runs out, she’s not sure. It’s pointless to think so far ahead. Perhaps she’ll just die, like she should have before.

A wife without a husband. A mother without sons. Once, she would have vomited at the thought of a woman identifying herself by the men in her life, but somehow it crept up on her over the years and now she’s left with gaping, bloody holes that gung-ho feminist rhetoric does nothing to paste over.

Nobody seems to notice the change in her philosophy. Though, she gets precious few visitors anyway. Trish and Lady leave her to her own devices, having apparently satisfied their curiosity about her. Morrison has tapered off their tete-a-tetes and only shows up when he wants money. Nero is a busy boy these days.

One night she dreams about them. The dream is very similar to the ones she used to have about Sparda; lifelike, almost lucid dreaming, where everything was the same - she is in bed, having just awoken - except he is there, smiling gently, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

Sleeping in, Eva?

Dreaming about the boys is very similar. She dreams she awakens in the night to a sound downstairs. There is no panic of a break-in; nobody bothers her these days. Voices, muffled, from the floor below. Eva calmly gets out of bed, registering even the rustle of the sheets and the cold, bare wooden boards under her feet. She pads slowly out of the bedroom to the top of the stairs.

There they are, standing in the centre of the office, illuminated perfectly by a strip of moonlight through the window. It is like a picture. It is too perfect and too easy. This is how she knows she is dreaming.

Still, for the first time in months, her heart eases.

They are talking softly to each other, too softly for her to catch the words (there is a limit, she concedes, to just how much even her vivid imagination can conjure). Eva doesn’t mind. She stands at the mezzanine and soaks them in.

Dante gestures to the stairs and looks up. He freezes as their eyes meet. Vergil, a half-heartbeat behind his twin, mirrors him.

“...Hey,” Dante croaks, the gesturing hand that had fallen still now awkwardly waving. “We’re home!”

This is more than she expected. Eva’s throat constricts. Even her dreams of Sparda were not so vivid or so long.

“You’re late, boys,” she manages after a moment. “Dinner was hours ago.”

She is trying for levity, trying to play her part in this scene, trying to piece together something happy for when she wakes up, but her voice cracks halfway through the sentence and she finds herself choking on a sob.

Dante is halfway up the stairs in a moment, hand outstretched to her. Eva, too, is reaching out to her little boy and she cries out when she finally has her arms around him again.

She does not get even a heartbeat of joy before the world collapses into shadows and flames. Dante dissolves, her arms closing around thin air, and the staircase morphs into an endless corridor to hell. Her boys are nowhere to be seen, but she can hear them screaming.

Or maybe she just hears her own voice, screaming herself awake.

There are more dreams, afterwards; more recognisable for what they are. Her life runs before her eyes in reverse. Searching for the boys. Watching Sparda walk away for the last time. The face of every person she never saved. Then, at last, the denouement: Elijah, torn open. Her father and uncle staring sightless into an abyss. Her mother reduced to so many scattered chunks of meat.

Eventually, because Eva is someone who makes things happen, not someone things simply happen to, she makes the decision to go back. She has faced Red Grave; faced the ruined manor. It is time to face much older ghosts.

It is a private matter, and so Eva tells nobody of her intentions. She lets Morrison know she will be out of town on personal business, timeline uncertain; she will give him a call when she’s back. He is free, in the interim, to pass her usual work on to other sources.

For anyone else (because she still hopes, deep down, that her boys will one day come home), she leaves a note on her desk.

Out of town for a while.

Eva re-reads the brief scribble and wonders what else to add before realising there really is nothing more to add. No forwarding address or contact number, because she does not want anyone to find her. Anyone who wants her, can wait until she comes back.

She makes it ten minutes out from the city before she turns back to scribble an address at the bottom of her note.

Just in case.

----

Plane tickets are cheap these days, and she has a passport courtesy of Morrison, but Eva elects to drive. Call her old-fashioned, or even just plain curmudgeonly in her old age (ha), but Eva likes the hum of a good motor much better than the press of noisy crowds.

Besides, she’d need a car at the other end of the flight anyway, where she’s going. She can even call it a vacation if she finds a motel to spend each night in. If not -- she’s slept in a car before and it won’t kill her to do it again, especially when the rental is much more comfortable than any old banger she’s passed a night in before.

Highways turn to country lanes as she veers further and further off the beaten track. The temperature drops, too; winter in the shadow of the Appalachian mountains is nothing to sneeze at. Eva has forgotten a lot of things over the years (too many things), but she remembers that. Funny how events and people slide slowly but surely from her mind but sensory impressions remain: the icy, pinesap-tinged tang of morning air in winter; the crackle of a fire; the warm doughy smell and pillowy softness of homemade dinner rolls.

Become someone else, she’d told her younger son as their world burned around them. Change your name, change yourself, and hide. Not easy, no, nothing like easy -- but possible, for the right price. For the price of giving up who you were before.

Except no bargain is ever so neat and no transaction ever so complete.

#devil may cry #dmc #eva #dante #vergil #nero #nico #trish #lady #i have a whole headcanon backstory for eva #shocking revelation: she did not have a good time before meeting sparda! #fragments from the google docs

[stargazing-imagines]

A&A rewrite // 01x06 // tickets and trashbags

Description : austin gets an opportunity to sing with shiny money meanwhile the reader gets chosen as Austin’s plus one

Pairings : a little bit of reader x austin fluff it’s coming guys just hang on a little longer! 😉

Warnings : mentions of stage fright , people in trash cans , if there’s anything that needs to be added, let me know.

It was a sunny day in sonic boom and Y/N was working the counter, ally was doing a piano lesson with Nelson, who was playing badly at the piano. You who got done with the customer shrieked at how Nelson was playing.

"Nelson, that's was great but maybe try playing a little bit easier on the keys,"

"Ok ally," said Nelson as he played somewhat a little better but not ear killing like before

"That's great Nelson, your getting better already," lied ally as she faked a smile, Nelson who smiled big put his hands in the air

"Thanks!" Said Nelson as he waited for ally to high five him, ally high fived nelson until Trish came in

"Guess who's got a job at mega phone world,"

"Another job?" Asked Y/N "we seriously need to work on your work ethic,"

"Yeah yeah," said Trish as she waved it off "working is just so hard,"

"Trish... what's your definition of working?" Asked Y/N as you rested a hand on your chin as you smiled at the girl.

"Sleeping on the job and not showing up," deadpanned trish

"Trish... that's the opposite of working," said ally 

"Aww man, now I have to get somebody to do my job for me,"

"Hey guys!" Said Austin as he walked into the music store with Dez "Trish any news on my career?"

"Yeah that's why I'm here," said Trish "I set Austin up to perform a remix Version of double take with shiny money!"

After Trish said that she handed Austin a white envelope that has already been open

"More information is on this sheet of paper," said Trish as she handed Austin a envelope, when she did he opened it

"So what does it say?" Asked Y/N as you tried to peek at the piece of paper, Austin who took the paper away laughed

"It says that I have tickets to the award show!"

"Yay!" Said everyone

"And I can bring some friends!"

"Yay!"

"Wait... a plus one? That not right," said Austin "you all are my friends,"

_____

It was the day of the award show and Austin was still trying to figure out who to take. First, trish bribed him with chocolate covered pastries, while Dez bribed him with a childhood story of Dez giving austin his pants in the elevator, while ally 'accidentally' dropped a tuba on Nelson. you who had no interest didn’t do anything.

Dez was at the drums with a football helmet as he was trying to teach Nelson the safety of ‘drumming’.

"Wooaahhhh," said Dez as ally walked in dressed in a red dress

"Aww, thanks Dez!" Said Ally as she waved the compliment off, you rolled your eyes at this as you was reading a book

"No I was talking about the dizziness from this drum," said Dez "wooaahhhh."

"Guess who's ready to go to the award show," said Trish as she came in dressed in a purple off shoulder dress

"Wait... Austin's taking you?" Asked ally "I thought he was taking me,"

"No he's taking me," said Trish

"Actually he's taking neither of you, I'm going with him," said dez

you walked over to the group

"Guys you do know that you don't have to bribe Austin with pastries, and a story in order to go to the award show right?" asked Y/N 

"Yeah and that's why I'm bringing Y/N because you guys keep bugging me and asking me to go to the award show," 

"I'm sorry what?" asked Y/N as she was taken aback, Austin Smiled 

"Y/N  your the only one that didn't bug me about this, so therefore I pick you," 

"well if that's what you said then lets go," said Y/N "Ally will you take over my shift?" 

"Sure," said ally sarcastically “I bought this red dress for nothing.”

________

"I'm going to make make make you do a double take," 

"Its money time, It's Money time," 

"I'm going to make make make you do a double take," 

Austin was performing with Shiny Money as you was backstage listening to the song, That was until you saw Trish, ally, and dez pop out from the trash cans 

Ally who was panicking walked over to you

"Are you guys that desperate to go to an award show?" you whispered

"It was Trish idea," said Ally 

"YOU!" 

"See ya," said Ally as she went back on stage when she did she knocked over something, you face planted into you hands embarrassed for your sisters sanity 

________

"i Can't believe you did that," said Austin "Are you literally that desperate?" 

"Austin their over here," said Y/N as she pointed to the three as they were sitting against trash cans 

"why would you embarrass me like that?" 

"Austin we're sorry we didn't mean to do this," 

"yeah Austin it was an honest mistake don't be harsh on your friends," 

"Ok fine but don't do that again," 

they did a group hug 

________

Austin and Ally rewrite masterlist

#austin and ally #austin and ally rewrite #austin moon imagine #austin moon x reader #ross lynch x reader #austin moon #ally dawson #trish dela rosa #dez wade #austin and ally season 1

[dumb-teambucciarati-headcanons]

I’m not sure if you’re open to asks and all.

If you aren’t, ignore! If you are (and are up for it) could I get some headcanons of each Buccigang member’s reaction to hearing Narancia’s past?

Yeah I like asks, sometimes it takes me a bit to answer them.

Giorno:

-understands what it’s like to have a neglectful parent

-dwells on how him and Narancia are different. How Narancia needs support from others and has a harder time functioning without guidance and can’t handle not having anybody, where Giorno is more independent and tends to rely on himself more than others and can accept betrayal as a normal part of life. And both of those traits in them came from child neglect.

Bruno:

-has a hard time understanding how a parent could neglect their own child and not care where they end up.

-whenever Narancia gets hit in the eye during a mission, he checks up on him because he knows it’s a touchy topic.

-sometimes when he is planning on visiting his dads grave, he will take Narancia and Abbacchio along to go to Narancias moms and Abbacchios partners graves as well.

Abbacchio:

-“the police … being fucking assholes … what a surprise.” Full of sarcasm

- he uses moody blues to transform into Narancias “big brother” and then steals a cop car with him and causes all sorts of chaos.

Mista:

-“buddy, just know that I’d never tell you to wear my hat and frame you for a crime”

-tries to lighten the mood and jokes around to hide his frustration towards what he just heard. Like how could someone not genuinely enjoy being around Narancia and decide to manipulate him like that?

-also thinks about how if Narancia had been a little older and it happened around the time he himself had gotten arrested, they could’ve ended up at the same prison and played cool pranks on the cops and gotten their sentences to be longer!

Fugo:

-“so that’s why you were digging through the trash like a raccoon” has also dug through the trash like a raccoon

-can sort of understand the neglectful parent thing, but also can’t. His parents never saw him as a person, but instead objectified him and pressured him to fit this perfect role. Where Narancias dad just ignored him and never had any expectations. Both of them ended up on the street, but to him it was because he failed to fit into the perfect mold and for Narancia is was more because he preferred it to being ignored.

Trish:

-“if you tell me where your dad lives I’ll try to steal his credit card”

- hates dads that suck

-feels like she can talk to Narancia about her grief with her own mom, especially since she could relate to having a dad that didn’t seem to want her.

#jjba #jjba part 5 #headcanons #narancia ghirga #leone abbacchio #guido mista #bruno buccellati #jojos bizarre adventure #pannacotta fugo #trish una #giorno giovanna #ask #anon #sadness

[fat-slobby-jojo-girls]

@league-of-effeminate-gentlemen

It was a timeline very similar to the main one of this blog but with one change. Along side Ms.Rose Trish was also flanked by Doppio, her well meaning if a bit too forgiving of a father. Despite being in his later 40s he kept his youthful look and charm but gained quite the weight in his years. Especially as his daughter grew into a gluttony goddess.

Currently he was currently rubbing Trish on the back and cleaning her face with tissues as she was coming down from a tantrum. “I keep saying it bambina. It’s just one comment throwing a fit over it won’t solve it.” He said as on the ground was a phone that once had a message from Gwess that called Trishs music trashy. Which Trish threw during her tantrum.

Trish's face was a deep shade of red and her eyes puffy and wet from her tears. All it took to set the music sensation off was a single text from a competitor, it wasn't even that harsh of a message just a simple misspelled "ur trash lmao" followed by some cute emoji's. Trish however was absolutely livid and in her rage had tossed her (one of many) expensive phone across the room before spiraling into a rather humiliating tantrum.

"HOW DARE SHE! She called MY music trashy? She's barely a musician! She just goes on stage and sings about being rejected and shakes her ass! Anyone can do that!" Trish whined a scowl spreading across her face as she reached across her cluttered desk and shoved one of her favorite pastries into her mouth. If she couldn't control her emotions the normal way she'd eat them into submission. "I knew I shouldn't of collabed with her... now she thinks she can walk all over me! I bet she's laughing it up waiting for me to respond!" Trish yelled her voice echoing down the long halls of her office making it clear to any staff that it wouldn't be the best time to interrupt less they wanted to face the bratty heiress' wrath.

#muse: trish #anon ask

[judgementdaysunshine]

You and the girls enjoy a few drinks and talk to each other outside of quick talks backstage or training with how shows have been packed lately finally getting a small house show going to a local bar after. "I can't believe you and Test have a benefits deal" Lita looks between you and Trish before her eyes widening "What!?" you sigh taking a ship of your Mai tai as trish laughs before adding to it "He ain't the only one she's got a sweet spot for Edge" you groan into the bar counter as lita's eyes turn into dinner plates downing a shot of whiskey before finishing two small sips of the mai tai "You got two good looking blonde men at the same time and you've been here a month!" boy did time fly as it was now halfway through August and within two weeks it would be September smiling when you see a text from edge responding to you sending the picture of the tube top and shorts you were wearing getting a text from test as the three of you joke before paying the tab and walking out to leave but you stop when you see your car "Oh god Y/N your car" the windshield was cracked badly, the window had been busted out, and the words "Watch your back" spray painted on your hood taking pictures before your car was towed to the local shop heading back to the hotel with the girls since you were all in the same hotel. You were a nervous wreck walking into your room double locking the door as you finally cried before calling the boys along with Steph and the APA jumping when you hear a knock on the door looking to see it was edge and test with Bradshaw and Farooq quickly opening it and showing them the pictures of your car by now you were a trembling crying mess yelping when there's a thud against the door seeing a letter underneath grabbing and opening it bursting into sobs "No no I can't what do I do!?" they look to see the words "Eye for an eye you're next" on the paper along with the picture of your hotel room number making them jump in action first you got switched to stay with edge, test bringing steph and Linda over to your and edge's room where linda made it clear that however long you needed until everything was alright to be guarded by the APA backstage and to the ring if necessary and have guards escort you to and from the entrance and parking lot, and the apa were always with you from the moment you left your hotel room til you were inside and asleep but you were always a ball of nerves with your anxiety making you sick to the point where you were throwing up before and after matches each time you walked in your locker room. You manage to hide your shot nerves until edge and test walked in to find you sitting on the bench hunched over with a trash can both of them rushing to you with edge wrapping you in his jacket holding your face while test got you water and an Alka seltzer to ease your stomach watching you closely as you were curled in a ball after drinking the water telling them that you were scared and your anxiety had been non-stop falling asleep with your head in edge's lap and legs across test's who both felt their hearts break at how vulnerable and afraid you were both looking at each other holding your hands "No matter what happens we both stay in her life" they agree squeezing your hands and staying with you until the apa accompanies you to the ring for your match with Luna which you win sharing a warm hug with her before the lights go out coming back on with you having a panic attack tied between the ropes with "Two weeks" written on the mat in red paint "Oh dear god someone is torturing this poor young lady" everyone else runs down as JR talks to you finally getting you free and taking you backstage where you hide in the corner of your locker room terrified of everything and everyone around.

#who and what i am #wwe x reader #wwf #wwf x reader #wwe

[dalekofchaos]

WWE

Cuts Becky vs Trish due to "time constrants"

Rhea Ripley, their Women's Champion gets no fucking matches(AND BOY IS SHE PISSED)

Your Tag Team Champions Sonya and Chelsea have no match

But WWE can put on the card

A fucking song segment from MAGA trash Kid Rock

Give Logan Paul a fucking match

Can't give their biggest stars or their champions their matches, but fucking can give Ronnie Lousey a match

#WWEWomenDeserveBetter

#WWE #Becky Lynch #Trish Stratus #Rhea Ripley #Sonya Deville #Chelsea Green

[jangmo-othewarrior]

*grabby hands*

gimme more dmc Pokémon shenanigans I know you want tooooooo

ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

Dante has more dark types than everybody else. This isn't because he actively seeks them out, it's because he treats them far better than most people. They then get attached and just live in the DMC office. This group includes Tyranitar, Houndoom, a Litten, and the wild Galarian Zigzagoon that live in the trash cans. He also gifts the befriended pokemon to his friends sometimes if he thinks they suit them better.

Kyrie's Sylveon ends up having eggs, so she give Dante and Vergil Eevee eggs! They have absolutely no idea what they are doing. Vergil's Eevee is also the first pokemon outside of Salamence he has ever owned, so he's... struggling. They eventually evolve into a very cheery Espeon (D) and a very prim and proper Glaceon (V).

Nero only had Dreepy for a long time, but once he officially joined the Order Credo gifted him a Rookidee. Kyrie helped pick the best one for him, so she was mainly a gift from both of them. Post DMC 5 she's a Corvisquire, but Nero feels like she'll evolve into Corviknight fairly soon.

A Nymble accidentally got hit by the Van once. Nico felt so bad that she nursed it back to health and adopted it. The little thing now hides in random nooks and crannies just to jumpscare Nero at the worst possible times.

One day (a little bit after DMC 3) Lady walked into the office and Dante had a Poochyena hanging out of his arms. He handed it off to Lady, fell onto the couch, and passed out.

Vergil and Nero went on a mission post-DMC5 and found an Electrike that was hurt by demons on the job. Nero ended up taking it home, and Vergil unintentionally used it as an excuse to talk to Nero. Manetric is now a very loyal and good boy, and often ends up in dog piles with Houndoom and an annoyed Glaceon.

Patty found a baby Sandile underneath DMC's floorboards when Dante was in Hell post-DMC2. Dante has absolutely no idea how it got there, but hey, Krokorok gives Patty scary dog privileges so he's cool with it.

Speaking of DMC 2, Lucia's partner is an Absol! She kinda just showed up one day and didn't leave when Lucia was a child.

Gloria introduced her partner as a Liepard, but he is actually a Zorua. Dante gave him to Trish after he caught him stealing his pizza. Trish secretly thought that was hilarious and immediately bonded with the fox over their ability to disguise themselves.

Nina gave Patty a Fidough and she absolutely loves Dante, so much so that Patty has used her as an excuse to visit him. He doesn't mind.

Dante gave Nero a Carvanha alongside the DMC sign when he officially joined the business. Carvanha usually stays at home with Kyrie, and he adores her and the kids quite a lot. Lady congratulated Nero on receiving the official seal of approval for the business. She wasn't talking about the sign.

And finally, the third Nelo battle was much more intense, and a desperate Bagon tried so hard to get his partner back that he evolved in Sheilgon. In the end, it didn't work. Decades would pass before he would come back, but he did in the end. That's all that really matters, to Salamence.

#(screeches) #thank you mutual SO MUCH #I needed to talk about them #I feel like making art for them too it's gone SO FAR #I can't draw people but I can draw pokemon! #also mutual there is another reference to your boi KC 4 u #because u deserve it <3 #dmc #devil may cry #dmc dante #dante sparda #vergil dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry 5 #dmc nero #dmc nico #dmc patty #patty lowell #dmc lady #dmc trish #dmc lucia #pokemon #pokemon headcanons #pokemon au