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formulawolff · 7 months ago

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x. bringing the heat in miami - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, lewd humor, age gap relationship, ANGST, naughty text messages, banter, light flirting, toto being down astronomically bad (like actually in the trenches) yadayadayada

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party in the city where the heat is on

all night, on the beach till the break of dawn

“welcome to miami”

“bienvenidos a miami"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

will smith’s infamous track fills your ears as you stroll in through the main gate of the track, fans clustered in thick waves. your name is called more times than you can count. posters, caps, shirts, you name it, wave about, begging to be signed.

the sun shines overhead, casting bright, fiery light all around. although it was only around eight in the morning, humidity clung to the air, creating a sticky, dewy sensation on your exposed skin. fluffy clouds drift along, carried by a breeze as it rolls through.

god, the weather was perfect.

hopefully it would be like this on race day.

“welcome to miamiiii,” alex bobs his head, singing along to the music, “are you excited? it is your home turf, after all.”

“if we were in phoenix, i think i would feel a little closer to home,” you suppress a giggle, “but yes, i am really fucking excited. everyone loves a race in their home country.”

“we’ll be in austin soon enough in october,,” alex shrugs, “when we’re in austin, i need you to show me how to ride a bull and teach me how to perfect that smooth texas drawl. i want to be like one of those little aunties who always say, ‘y’all come back now!’ like dolly parton! ”

“you’re ridiculous,” the giggles blossom into a full-on laugh, “you don’t just start speaking with a southern accent. that’s not how that works.”

“sure it is,” alex nods, “hey, your parents are coming out for the race, right?”

“yes sir! they will finally get to see their baby girl in action!”

“they didn’t come out for a single grand prix last year?” alex raises a brow.

“i wasn’t winning races last year,” you counter, “i told them not to worry about spending that money during my rookie year. not everyone’s parents are loaded, you know.”

which, was a true statement.

your parents had invested their time, hard-earned cash, weekends off, and a portion of their lives to get you here. you didn’t expect them to fly out for every single grand prix, make every event, or pay another dime towards your expenses.

unlike many of the drivers, you were not born into an extremely lavish lifestyle. your parents were modest people, who happened to have a child later in life. ever since you were born, they lived in the same house, drove the same vehicles, and got by adequately. since they both worked full-time, getting you into the racing world was no simple feat.

yet, they were determined to make your dreams become a reality. after years of careful coordination to the karting tracks, weekends devoted to races, and thousands upon thousands of dollars spent, you were offered a contract with williams racing. of course, you accepted that offer graciously.

now, you were steadily paying your parents back for their dedication. once you signed your contract and those zeroes hit your bank account, you went out to the nearest dealership, purchasing a suburu wrx. with the premium package, at that.

you would never forget your dad’s face the moment you pulled into the driveway, beaming as you placed the keys in his hand.

that was one of the only moments you had ever watched him cry, wrapping you up in a tight, loving embrace.

“you didn’t have to do this. being your father is a gift in itself.”

“but you deserve it. you’ve sacrificed so much so that i could be in this position.”

“and you deserve nothing but the best, baby girl. you are going to be one of the greatest drivers formula one has ever seen. you make us so proud. keep making us proud. keep defying those odds. keep making history, baby girl.”

keep making history, baby girl.

as you stroll into the paddock, greeting the engineers, pit crew, and other team members, you can’t shake that feeling brewing deep within.

it’s is a fiery desire, setting you ablaze with determination.

you were going to keep making history.

you were going to be the first american to win the miami grand prix.

you were going to be the first woman to win two consecutive grand prixes.

you were going to be the first woman to earn that title of world champion.

you were going to chase that high. by any means possible.

and nothing was going to stop you now.

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“look at him,” lewis hamilton shakes his head, “he looks absolutely pitiful.”

“you think his little relationship is on the rocks?”

“quite the contrary mate,” lewis remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i think it’s more like the poor man is depraved. obviously the euphoria has worn off. he’s come down from that high. the man is craving more. plain and simple. a hand can only do–”

“i don’t need the mental image of my team principal wanking off,” george russell scoffs, rubbing his temple, “fuck, that is disgusting, lewis.”

toto wolff stood a few meters away from the drivers, engaged in deep conversation with bono and members of the crew. now that lewis knew the truth, he couldn’t help but notice how much power that american girl held over the team principal. it was almost as if he were deep in a trance, under some sort of spell.

it was pitiful, really. just the sight of her was enough to send the team principal spiraling, intoxicated off her alluring aura. not like lewis could blame toto, though. there was no denying that the woman was extremely breathtaking.

with her stunning features, witty mouth, unapologetic personality, and angelic presence, she was practically miss america.

well, not practically.

she was miss america.

everyone adored her. lewis could barely go throughout his morning without hearing her name being mentioned. whether it was fans, journalists, social media, even members of the mercedes crew, she was the hot topic of formula one, taking the world by storm.

toto was a lucky man. an extremely lucky man.

if only she was into men her age.

“my apologies mate,” lewis nudges george with his elbow playfully, “did we have anything going on today? any obligations?”

george’s brow furrow, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, “if we’re being honest, i can’t really remember. i think something to do with monster energy, maybe.”

“perfect,” lewis licks his lower lip, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

time to text that little assistant.

in all seriousness, he felt horrible for taking advantage of that young girl. she was only nineteen for fuck’s sakes, a fresh face to mercedes at the start of the 2024 season. that made her the perfect target to do his bidding.

well, it wasn’t really bidding.

more like investigative journalism.

at least, that’s what lewis told himself to feel a little less guilty for what he was about to do.

hey, do you by chance know toto’s schedule today?

seconds later, little text bubbles appear.

he was meeting with you guys this morning, then he has an interview with the press around two-thirty p.m. it’s nothing super serious, just a brief session entailing his thoughts for the weekend. at four, he has a zoom call with a few of the mercedes execs. after that, he told me he was going to be out for the remainder of the evening. why?

hmmm. how convenient.

i was just curious. thanks for letting me know! i appreciate you, natila.

of course, mr. hamilton! let me know if you need anything else! :)))

it was now or never. go time.

after the meeting with the mercedes executives, lewis hamilton was going to knock on toto wolff’s door. he was going to stroll into that office, settling into one of those plush leather chairs. and before toto had the opportunity to speak, lewis was going to confront him about that american girl.

how he was going to start that conversation, he had no idea. that would come to him in time as he went about his day, meeting with sponsors, flashing that lovely lewis smile, flirting with the reporters just a little. not too much so that it was obvious, but enough to make them blush a tad, giggling as they scrambled to stick to their script.

but for now, it was time to focus on the matters at hand.

across the track, a dutch driver strolls through the crowds, a jersey in one hand, phone in the other. glancing down at his screen, he curses under his breath at the throng of people. why were there so many people? where did they all come from?

pausing for a moment, he taps his screen, thumb gliding through his contacts.

“hey, where are you again?”

“we’re in the williams paddock!” her voice is an octave higher than usual, more than likely from anticipation, “we’ll see you soon!”

“sounds good,” max verstappen stifles a chuckle as he hears a voice on the other end, the words firm, demanding almost.

“honey, who are you talking to? who’s coming over here?”

“mom, please, just let me be on the phone for two seconds,” she exhales, “okay, i have to go. i’ll see you soon!”

the walk to the williams paddock was excruciating, as max had to bob and weave through the masses to avoid reporters, potential sponsors, and any individual who called his name. it’s not like he didn’t like the fame that came with his success, it’s just that he didn’t like the constant cameras in his face. the prying questions. the intrusive comments.

sometimes he wished he could just blend in, be like any other face in the crowd. yet, how could he when he was max verstappen?

yet, as he steps into the paddock, he makes out the williams driver, her parents hovering around her as she introduces them to various members of the crew. at the sight, max can’t help but feel the corners of his lips curl into a smile as he notices the sheer and utter pride plastered across their faces.

and they had every right to be proud of you.

you earned it.

“goedemorgen,” max clears his throat, raising his hand for a small wave, “i just came to stop by.”

the instant your mom realizes who is standing before her in the paddock, her eyes widen, lips parting, “oh my gosh – honey. look who it is!”

“good morning max,” your laughter rings like bells as you cross over to the dutch driver, “how are you?”

“pretty good,” he nods, sticking out his right hand, “hallo, i’m max.”

your dad shakes his hand, squeezing it firmly, “nice to meet ya, max. i’m tony. this is my wife, heather.”

“pleased to meet you,” max beams, turning to your mom, “i brought something for you today. your daughter mentioned that you were a big fan of mine. so, i brought this jersey for you. she let me know your shirt size, so it should fit perfectly. my signature is on there somewhere, but i just can’t quite remember where.”

graciously, heather accepts the jersey, her eyes glossy, shifting to you as she wipes a tear, “oh, honey, you planned this?”

“of course i did,” wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you pull her in for a hug, “i couldn’t bear the thought of you guys attending the race without meeting any of my friends. besides, you deserve an all-inclusive experience at your first grand prix.”

“besides,” max shoots you a wink, “i wanted to meet the woman who crafted such a talented driver.”

at max’s compliment, your mom’s face flushes, “oh please! i can barely make it on the freeway without having a nervous breakdown. i don’t know how she can drive these things. it amazes me how confident she is and–.”

“i could show you,” max offers, “i have some free time tomorrow. i’m sure we could all meet up somewhere and i could take you for a spin, show you the ropes. how does that sound?”

“oh max,” your mom waves a hand, “you do not–”

“but i want to. it’s no issue. no issue at all.”

“then it’s a plan,” you can’t help but grin as your moms’ eyes light up, “what time works for you, max? since it’s only thursday, we’ll have some time in the morning before the practice laps. or, we could go after. whatever works for you.”

“let’s go in the morning,” max suggests, checking his phone, “i think i can make a few calls. have someone bring in a car. we’ll take it out on the track.”

“is that allowed?” your mom arches a brow, “i just don’t want you two to get in any sort of trouble.

“oh mom,” you roll your eyes playfully, gesturing to max, “that is max verstappen. whatever max verstappen wants, max verstappen gets.”

“she’s not wrong.”

“okay fine,” your mom nods, and you feel a giggle forming at her overprotective nature.

“just don’t give me a heart attack out there, max. i have a very important race to watch on sunday.”

as your parents talk to max, alex making his way into the conversation, you feel the buzz of your phone in your pocket. carefully, you fish it out, ensuring to shield your screen from your mom’s wandering gaze.

this is unbearable. i need to see you tonight. are you going to have any free time? i vaguely recall you mentioning that your parents were going to be here. i will take no offense if you would like to spend time with them. i know you do not get to see them often.

i need to be inside you, schatzi. i can’t think straight right now because the only thing i can think about is fucking that perfect pussy of yours.

i miss my golden girl. more than anything.

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“lewis? this is a pleasant surprise.”

“how’s it going mate?” lewis hamilton bears a quaint smile as he settles into a chair, face-to-face with the team principal, “things going well?”

“eh,” toto shrugs, his head bowed as he types away on his phone, “same old shit, you know.”

“things going well with the horseback rider?”

oh, so he wasn’t going to drop it. silently, toto curses the attentive nature of his british driver, “they’re fine.”

“so,” lewis leans back, folding his arms across his chest, “when were you going to fess up and admit that your little girlfriend doesn’t ride horses?”

“i don’t understand what you–”

lewis scoffs, clicking his tongue, “i know exactly who your little girlfriend is because she’s a few spaces ahead of me on the grid.”

shit.

the expression painting lewis’ features is brimmed with satisfaction, his gaze piercing right through the team principal as he shifts uneasily in his desk chair, running a hand through his hair.

toto was well aware that lewis had completely blindsided him, pinning him in a corner. it was quite literally perfect timing, as the team principal was merely minutes away from organizing his things, shutting down his computer, and heading out the door, well on his way to his golden girl.

well played, lewis. well played.

yet, he had to maintain his composure. he had to maintain that poker face as lewis cocks his head, prompting him to formulate some sort of witty retort.

“i’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“bullshit,” lewis shakes his head, “you’re not a very good liar, toto. you of all people should know that i can read you like a bloody book. how long has this been going on?”

well, he had to fess up now. lewis would continue to call him out on his shit if he kept up with the lies. letting out a shaky breath, the team principal hangs his head in defeat, his heart thumping against his rib-cage, wiping his damp palms on his slacks.

no going back now. time to come clean.

“since she won in jeddah. but if we’re being technical, it started in bahrain.”

“wait,” lewis sticks his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut, “pause. this has been going on since the start of the season? for weeks you’ve been sneaking around, meeting up with her in secret or something? was she the one who came to brackley between melbourne and suzuka?”

with all of the questions pouring from lewis’ mouth, toto’s mind reeled, a swirling torrent of anxiety, fear, and disappointment. his cheeks burn with shame, tinged pink.

“yes, she was.”

tilting his head, lewis’ lips purse, “you like her?”

“well isn’t that blatantly fucking obvious,” propping his elbows on the desk, he massages his temples with his fingers, “how did you find out?”

“it wasn’t hard,” lewis shrugs, “i mean, i see the way you look at her.”

toto’s eyes narrow at lewis’ vague response, “how. did. you. find. out?”

“natila texted me about it,” lewis coughs, averting the team principal’s beady stare, “she may have heard a conversation or two.”

“regarding?” toto presses, satisfaction pumping in his veins as lewis starts to crack, shifting in the chair, “come on, lewis. you can’t just march in here and demand answers from me without sharing your sources. what did natila hear?”

“she heard the entire conversation you had with the drive to survive crew while we were in suzuka. they mentioned that they had footage of you walking over to her motorhome. that’s all natila heard. don’t fire the poor girl,” the words were rushed, breathy, “it was my fault. i asked her what she heard. i told her i would pay her if she told me what she knew.”

“well,” toto blinks, swallowing thickly, “did you end up paying her?”

“only like five thousand.”

“that’s quite a large sum over something you could have just asked me about personally,” clasping his hands together, toto raises a brow, “why didn’t you just come to me instead?”

“because you got so fucking defensive the first time i asked about it!”

lewis did have a point.

a good point, at that.

it was not like the team principal would have withheld information regarding his developing relationship with the williams driver. it was more like he feared what would ensue if he did share what had transpired. he trusted lewis, he really did. additionally, it wasn’t like this was just some average woman. his career, her future, and so much more were at stake. the benefits of keeping it all under wraps greatly outweighed the risk of discovery.

more importantly, he was protective of his golden girl.

she was his little escape from it all. a breath of fresh air after excruciatingly long nights in the paddock or disappointing days on the track. she was his sun, shining her vivid, warm, golden rays into his dreary and dull life.

sure, toto was a billionaire. but money was not everything.

nearly every day, toto’s mind wandered to their time spent together in brackley. the way she felt against his skin. the way her shy smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. the way her fingers felt intertwined with his. the way her lashes fluttered as she slept, lips parted ever so slightly. the way his hands roamed her curves, relishing the softness of her.

that memory alone was worth far more than the number of zeroes in his bank account.

“you’re falling in love, aren’t you?”

lewis’ voice is low, dangerously quiet. yet, there’s a curious glint in his eyes, the bitterness and anger no longer present. his body language is more relaxed, legs crossed, the driver fiddling with his thumbs.

“i –” toto stutters, scrambling to find the right words, “yes, i am.”

“does she know?”

“no,” he inhales sharply, “she doesn’t.”

“you want to tell her though, don’t you?”

“it would just feel rushed,” the team principal dismisses lewis’ inquiry, his voice hardening, “i have to be realistic here. no one falls in love that quickly. that’s just petulant.”

“well look at it this way,” lewis offers, “if you’ve had your eye on her for some time, then it’s really not that rushed. clearly, if you’re feeling those emotions so deeply, then it’s accumulated over time. i don’t want to pry, but how long have you been attracted to her?”

“you don’t want to know,” a chuckle rumbles in the team principal’s chest, “it’s embarrassing, really.”

“no, no, no,” lewis tuts, “tell me, toto. how long?”

“december 2022, when she signed her contract with williams. when i saw that photo of her, i knew i had to have her. last summer, in monaco, i may have slipped up and approached her at the afterparty. i flirted with her, but she dismissed me. so, i kept my distance. however, it was just growing harder and harder to stay away. it was impulsive, that night in bahrain. but i wanted to make a move before anyone else got to her.”

as toto finishes, he can’t help but notice lewis’ smirk, “holy shit, toto. you’ve been wrapped around her finger for quite some time then, yeah?”

“i wouldn’t say that–” toto begins, clicking his tongue, yet, he’s swiftly cut off as a new figure cracks open the door.

george russell leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. his lips are pressed together, forming a tightly wound frown.

“way to include me in the gossip session, guys. what did i miss? clearly, quite a lot. if you don’t mind, i would like to join the conversation. toto, would you start from the top? even though i’ve already heard most of it, when were you going to bring it to my attention that you were fucking that bloody williams driver?”

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taglist: @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010 @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic

as always, if i forgot to include you, please let me know! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all sm!! <33

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lovecla · 3 months ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter three:

➴ chapter warnings: drinking.

➴ word count: 4.2k

💌 from me to you: another chapter? clara, don’t you have better things to do with your life? yes guys i do but i spent my entire shift today thinking about publishing this chapter and just when i thought i shouldn’t because i don’t want you guys to get tired of me, tumblr sends me a notification that i’ve reached 250 reblogs today. so yes im taking this as a sign from the universe and im posting this today. also, angst? not here! we want madison and quinn to love each other and we want it NOW! (p.s sorry abt the word count. i got carried away)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

CLUBBING IN Vancouver felt like a fever dream, especially with Jack Hughes.

It was already one a.m. and you and Jack were incredibly drunk, dancing around with Luke and laughing. All of you minus Quinn, who had ordered just one beer and was sitting at your table like he was fifty years old.

Fortunately, not many people had recognised you or the brothers, which was good. But if you were to be honest, getting recognised was the least of your problems. Getting extremely shit-faced was your ultimate goal that night.

“These songs are all so fucking lame,” you yelled over some country music, making Jack— who was apparently the biggest country music supporter ever— give you the finger. Luke laughed, sipping on his non-alcoholic drink. Getting Luke inside the club with a fake ID was already enough of a mess so there was no need for any more scandals.

You and Jack on the other hand were drinking for both of them.

“Go complain to them, then!” He yelled, probably kidding, but drunk you wasn’t exactly the sanest person ever.

So you walked until you were side by side with the DJ, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Hey! Play some fucking good music!”

“What?” She shouted, looking at you with her headphones still on. There were so many people dancing around you both that you had no choice but to glue your body to hers.

“Play something like Rihanna,” you yelled, grabbing her microphone and shouting. “Are y’all tired of this lame ass music too?”

People shouted, apparently agreeing with you.

You looked at her, raising your eyebrow and silently asking for her to change it. She shrugged, not really caring about the fact that you had just called her playlist “lame”, and changed into some other song.

Rihanna’s voice and the customers screams filled the place, making you scream too. You were really out of your mind because not drunk you would never want this much attention.

You walked until you were on top of someone’s table, climbing on it with the help of a random guy, dancing and singing along to Rihanna’s song, Only Girl.

You could faintly see Jack, Quinn and Luke at your table, Jack shouting your name while Luke used his phone to record it. Quinn looked like he was having the worst time of his life, but you were probably just seeing things.

“I want you to love me,” you sang, grabbing someone’s spoon to use as your mic. “Like I’m a hot ride,”

Some girls were singing along with you, and you smiled at them. The club was ringing with the heavy bass of the song, casting vibrant hues of pink and purple through the air.

Even if you were drunk, all of your moves were smooth and effortless, like you’d been born for this. You were having fun and for the first time not thinking of the consequences of your actions— which was probably a bad move.

You looked down, noticing that Luke stood in front of you, offering you his hand so you could get off the table, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.

“Hey,” he greeted, while you hugged his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Lukey,” you shouted over the music. “You’re so grown up now!”

“You’re so gone.” he laughed, putting his hands on your waist. “We need to go.”

He was absolutely right, you were very much gone. And you were a little tired, but it’d been so long since the last time you went out to dance that you didn’t really care about sleeping or going back to your hotel.

“Dance with me, Lukey,” you smirked. “We can go home after this song.”

He only nodded, moving his body with yours awkwardly, making you laugh really hard. You still loved them a lot, and they’d forever be in your heart, no matter how much time passed.

Someone grabbed your arm midway through going down to the floor, pulling you up. You frowned, looking up and watching Mr. No Fun scowling at you and Luke.

“I told you to come get her and you’re now dancing with her? Let’s go,” he hissed, pulling you with him, so close you could feel the warmth of his body against yours.

“I would love to know what the hell happened to you, because why are you an ass all the time?” You yelled, the need of making him as upset as you was bigger than your common sense. “Or maybe it’s just with me.”

“Be quiet, Madison,” he growled before handing Luke his card and asking him to pay the bill and fetch Jack on his way back, while he dragged you out of the club. “We’re leaving.”

“I can see that,” you scoffed, waving to some of the girls who were dancing with you earlier. “Of course it’d be you to ruin my night.”

“Ruin your night?” He stopped, turning around and staring at you. “You’re drunk, dancing in the middle of people you don’t even know, when you’re well known and when you know anyone could do anything to you.”

“You said know thrice,” you giggled, stopping yourself when you saw that his angry face was still there. “And I was dancing with Luke.”

“Yeah, after you danced on top of a fucking table with I don’t even know how many men around.” He snorted, resuming his walk and dragging you with him again.

“Why are you so angry?” You rolled your eyes. “Is it because you still see me as your little sister? Is that what’s happening here?”

He stares at you, gray-ish eyes making you shiver. Locking his jaw, he only shook his head and didn’t say anything else, making you angrier.

But before you could properly lash out on him, Luke and Jack were standing by Quinn’s side, ready to say their goodbyes.

“I would’ve stayed for way longer but you know, duty calls,” Jack smiled, words coming out of his mouth slurred and slow, hugging you weirdly because he was really drunk too.

“Come see us in Jersey. We miss you.” Luke said, hugging you sideways.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I’ll give you my jersey.”

You nodded, kissing them both on the cheek. “Be safe. You guys keep doing your great work. I’ll miss you.”

“Bye, bro,” they hugged Quinn and you were confused for two seconds before remembering that Quinn lived in Vancouver. “See you soon.”

Quinn hugged them back, asking Luke to drive safely and text when they got to their hotel. As you watched them go, you resumed walking too, removing your heels and reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

“Where are you going?” Quinn shouted behind you, and you didn’t look back when you answered “hotel!”. “You’re barefoot, it’s almost three a.m. and you’re alone in a city you don’t even know.”

“First of all, I was born here. And second of all, I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you replied, trying to see one phone at a time. “Why do I have two phones?” You mumbled.

“Madison, come on,” his steps were getting closer. “Let me drive you to your hotel.”

“I thought you were a hockey player, not a chauffeur,” you snorted, pretty sure that you spelled the French word wrongly. “Go home, Quinn.”

You felt a hand on your wrist, holding you. You stopped, staring at it before looking up and looking at Quinn’s angry face. “Madison. You’re drunk, and Vancouver isn’t as safe as they made it out to be.”

“Why are you so worried now, H-Hughes?” You raised your brow. “You were just fine ignoring me for the entire night. I don’t understand what changed.”

He sighed, running his hands through his beautiful, perfect hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve been an asshole this entire night but— it’s complicated. Just let me take you home, alright?”

You stared at him for a long time, watching as his frame sometimes doubled in quantity and two Quinn’s stood in front of you. Two Quinn Hughes would be a very pleasant sight, indeed.

“Why is it complicated?” You finally said.

“Madison, we’re not having this conversation tonight with you three sheets to the wind. Come on.” He said before pulling you again.

“I’m not leaving with you, and stop using hard words!” You shouted, removing yourself from his grip. “Good night.”

Turning around, you started walking again, one step at a time because apparently you had four left feet.

Only to feel your body being pulled and suddenly your feet were off the ground and you were in Quinn’s arms, with him carrying you bridal style, making you yelp.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Last time I saw you, you weren’t so dirty-mouthed.” he mumbled, his stubble scratching your temple.

“Last time you saw me I was fifteen. I am twenty-two now and very much allowed to say things like fuck.” You squirmed in his arms, tiring yourself even more. Quinn’s arms felt like they were made of iron. “I also fuck now.”

Oh you were so going to regret this.

He frowned. “I don’t want to know about that, Madison.”

“‘Course you don’t,” you mumbled, giving up and resting your head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to talk later.” He said, suddenly stopping and putting you down in front of a fancy black car. Probably his.

“About what? Me having sex?” You chuckled.

“No, God. Not that,” he dropped his key, bending over to pick it up. He opened the door for you and ordered: “Get in.”

“You’re actually pretty annoying.” You mumbled, but did what he said anyway. You were starting to feel sleepy and bickering with Quinn seemed uninteresting now.

Even though it was funny to watch him scowl.

His car’s seat was cold but he turned the heat on as soon as he started the car. He got out of the parking spot and started driving around Vancouver’s almost deserted streets.

You sighed, resting your head against the window and getting comfortable. Even though you were still upset with Quinn and even though you were pretty sure he also was upset with you, there was just something comforting about being around him. You loved it a lot, and hadn’t realized you’d missed it this much.

“Which hotel are you in?” He asked after a while, and you didn’t even open your eyes to answer.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Fancy and big, looks like a shoe b-box, but I don’t know the name of i-it.”

“How do you not know the name of the hotel you’re staying at?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, making you smile sleepily. “How were you even going to call an Uber, then?”

“You ask too many questions, Quinn,” you answered, before lulling yourself into a deep sleep.

You didn’t get to sleep for a long time, because soon you had Quinn opening the door and almost making you fall out of the car. “Oh, sorry. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You were amazed by the fact that he’d manage to find out in which hotel you were staying in even without you saying anything, and you found yourself smiling, remembering how you admired him as a kid, when he’d always have the answers to your questions.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked you, placing his hands on your lower back.

“Nothing.” You answered but you weren’t exactly sure if the word had come out right.

Either way you heard his quiet laugh, before taking your heels and purse— that you didn’t even remember you had— out of his car and locking it. He guided you through the small path, stopping in front of the big door and unlocking it.

Funny, this hotel looks a lot different than the one you’d checked in but maybe they’d finally upgraded your room.

“How did you get them to give me a better room?” You asked, looking around.

The room looked a lot like a house to be honest, it even had an open kitchen and a living room.

“What do you mean?” He asked, turning around and looking at you, apparently confused.

“When I checked-in earlier they— they,” you hiccupped, wanting nothing more than a bed. “They gave me a very shitty bedroom and I had to take a cold s-shower because the heater was broken.”

“We’re not at your hotel,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re at my house. I don’t know where your hotel is and I don’t have time to drive around until you remember its name so you’ll sleep here tonight.”

If you weren’t so drunk and ready to sleep for the next century, you might’ve put on a fight. But all you managed to do was walk around the living room and say “Okay, sleep well.” Before laying down on his big, fluffy couch.

“What— Jesus,” he echoed, grabbing your hand. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I have a spare room.”

He walked you to another spacious room, gently helping you sit on the bed.

“Can you wait here for a second? I’ll go and grab something for you to wear. You’re probably uncomfortable with that… thing,” he said, pointing to your dress and leaving the room, not waiting for your answer.

Not that you would’ve given him one anyway, you were too distracted trying not to sleep. It was a hard job.

He didn’t take long, coming back with a plaid shirt and some blue shorts that looked ginormous. “This probably won’t fit you but it’s fine, it’s just for tonight.”

He placed them on the bed, helping you get up and stand on your feet. He turned you around, unzipping your dress and helping you get out of it. Then, he made you face him again, only that he wasn’t really looking at you. His head was down, his eyes on the floor, and you caught yourself smiling with how cute and respectful Quinn’s always been.

You changed into his clothes taking ten minutes more than you usually would, especially with how you are so used to changing fast during runways, but your limbs were heavy and you were on your final straw.

“This doesn’t fit,” you mumbled, watching as you tried to tie the shorts’ lace around your waist and failing miserably, just for it to fall at your feet, leaving you with just his shirt and your panties. “Quinn. It doesn’t fit.”

“I can see that, Madison,” he chuckled, finally looking you in the eye again. “Go to bed. Tomorrow we will find something else.”

You shrugged, getting on the tip of your toes and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “Night, Quinny.”

You didn’t watch his reaction, heading to bed immediately and passing out before you even got to hear his answer.

౨ৎ

maddiecarter_updates

liked by cherylwilliams, lucaspotter, melanieg_12 and 12,013 others

maddiecarter_updates Looong night for our girl Mads! She was seen by fans in Vancouver at a night club with Jack, Quinn and Luke Hughes, and some locals said they saw her leaving the club with Quinn Hughes (@_quinnhughes)! We hoped she enjoyed herself! 😊

View all 129 comments

user1 who r these fine men lmfao

maddiecarter_updates user1 They’re NHL players, Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and both Luke and Jack play for the NJ Devils. 🙂

user2 lowkey wish she’d grab my ass too :/

user3 Aren’t they the guys she grew up with? I might be wrong though..

maddiecarter_updates user3 Madison never confirmed nor denied these rumours. The nature of her relationship with the Hughes is still unknown and we must respect that :)

user4 SHE’s SO FINEEEEEE

user5 HUGGY BEAR LOOKING SO DAMN FINE THATS MY CAPTAIN

user6 watch puck bunnies start dragging her in 3. 2. 1….

౨ৎ

WAKING UP the next morning felt like running an entire marathon barefoot and naked, after eating a whole bunch of junk food and drinking two gallons of milk.

In other words, it’d been hard.

It felt like you were emerging from a foggy, oppressive haze. Your eyelids were heavy, struggling to open, and when you finally managed to open them, the light from the window felt painfully bright, stabbing your temple.

Your mouth feels like sandpaper and the lingering taste of alcohol sits on your tongue. Every sound, even the gentle rustle of sheets, seems amplified, reverberating in your throbbing head. A dull, relentless ache pulses behind your eyes, making it hard to focus on anything.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, trying to wet your lips with your tongue. “What the hell…”

Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and as you slowly sit up the whole room starts spinning slightly. A wave of nausea hits you, a queasy reminder of the night before. Your stomach churns, and there's an unsettling sensation in your gut, as if everything is on the edge of tipping over. You rub your face, feeling the sweat and the grogginess, struggling to remember what happened, but the memories come in disjointed flashes.

“Oh my God.”

You were mortified with your own actions. Dancing on top of a table? Grabbing the DJ’s ass? Talking with Quinn about your sex life?

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to throw up.

You got up, looking around, trying to recognise the room you were in. It didn’t have much decoration in it, just a plain wallpaper and a big bed with two nightstands. There was a door to the left which you opened, finding a small bathroom with a shower, a sink and a toilet.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you actually gasped. Your hair was all over the place, your makeup smudged and Quinn’s shirt had fallen off and your boobs were almost out.

“I need a shower,” you mumbled, getting out of your panties and Quinn’s shirt, turning the shower on. Your head was still pounding and it only got worse when you remembered that you were away from Bella and that you’d have to move to Vancouver in less than two weeks.

Even if you wanted to say no to La Vie en Rose’s deal so bad, you didn’t want to do that with Nicholas. He was a great person, and a great friend too, and you knew he had the purest of intentions. And it would only be for six months.

You scrubbed your body with the liquid soap, feeling the hot water worsening your headache but you weren’t the type of person who enjoyed cold showers.

Ten minutes later, the quickest shower of your life, you stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, looking for a towel inside the cabinets. After you found one, you wrapped your body around it and dried yourself while walking back to the bedroom.

You found a new change of clothes on the bed and a new pair of boxers, chuckling with how Quinn must have looked when he placed these things on your bed.

Oh, right. Quinn. You were at his house.

Thinking of what you’d even say to him, you put on the clothes he left for you, not wearing the shorts again. The shirt covered the boxers anyway.

You left the bedroom, walking around the house until you finally found the kitchen, reading the clock before you stared at Quinn. 7:34a.m.

“How did I wake up this early?” You asked, sitting on a stool and watching as he turned around and smiled at you.

His smile was still the same, just a little bit different. He looked tired, but his eyes still held that softness you adored so much.

“Morning to you,” he says, handing you a cup of coffee. “Your body’s probably still used to your usual routine. It’s normal.”

“That’s bullshit,” you groaned. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

You raised your brow at him, watched as he leaned against the counter and stared right back at you. Usually, you’d feel self conscious and nervous, but Quinn looked at you with tenderness, with delicacy. He made you feel safe without even doing anything, even if you were still supposedly mad at each other.

Which reminded you of something.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t mad at you, Madison.”

“You keep calling me that,” you pointed out. “I don’t remember everything that happened last night, but I do remember how upset you were with me, and how you didn’t even look at me for too long. Only when you were frowning.”

“Madison—”

“I get that you’re mad at me because I never talked to you again, or visited you in the US or when I didn’t congratulate you when you got drafted but—” you sighed, running your hands through your hair, frustrated. “You have no right to be upset.”

You watched as he looked at you, incredulous. “I have no right to be upset?” He cocked his head, wavy hair falling freely to the side. “Wanna tell me why?”

“Well, for starters, the phone works both ways,” you pointed out. “And also, you never came back for me either. So we’re even.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed but you could see that he wasn’t thinking that what you were saying was actually funny. “Madison, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not!” You raised your arms, regretting immediately because your body still hurt. “Why would I joke about that?”

“Because I went to your house.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to tell you he was the one who was joking. Only that he stayed quiet, waiting for you to realize he was being serious.

“What the hell, Quinn? What do you mean?”

“After I called you several times and you didn’t pick up, I went to your parents’ house in Toronto, back in 2018,” he gestured with his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “I told your mom I was in town and I needed to see you, but she told me you were in Los Angeles, training to be a model, whatever that means.”

“I only moved to LA when I turned eighteen,” you frowned, confused. “And I never got any of your calls, not once. So I never called you because I thought— I don’t know, I thought you had gotten tired of me.”

“Why would you even think that?” He asked, voice filled with distress. “Madison, you were my best friend.”

“You were surrounded by gorgeous, beautiful girls who were your age and in the pictures you looked like you were having fun with them, so—”

“I would trade them all for you, Maddie. And you know that.”

You didn’t know which part of his statement hurt you the most. Him calling you by the nickname he gave you for the first time in years or the fact that you knew he was telling the truth.

“I know,” you whispered, choosing to look at the cup in front of you. “Maybe that’s exactly why I didn’t call or text you. You deserved better than some stupid fifteen year old who thought love could change the world.” You laughed, humorlessly.

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” he complained. “You weren’t stupid. And I’m sorry for all this mess.”

You looked up, frowning. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. My mom lied to you about me moving and she probably blocked your number on my phone.”

“Either way, I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I just… seeing you after all these years and listening to you talking about Los Angeles like it was heaven on Earth when you hadn’t visited me or my family in a long time made me go crazy, ” he chuckles.

“Well, now we’re both sorry,” you mumbled, drinking the rest of the lukewarm coffee in one go. “What do we do now?”

“We can try keeping in touch with each other even when you’re back in LA,” he suggests, moving his body around the kitchen. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going back to LA. At least not any time soon.”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“Got a job with a Canadian brand and I have to stay here for the next six months.”

“Stay here as in live here?” He asked, lips curling up. You nodded. “Oh.”

“Yup.”

“You don’t seem too excited.”

“I don’t really love the idea of living in the same city as my mom,” you mumbled, drawing invisible patterns with your fingers on the marble surface. “But I’ve been looking forward to working with them for a long time now.”

You heard Quinn’s steps, and next thing you know he was beside you, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at you with fond, blue eyes. “Don’t let people ruin what’s great for you, Maddie. No one should be more important than your dreams.”

You looked at him, smiling shyly. You didn’t really know how to act around him now that you were both in peace. And you still didn’t know what to do with your heart whenever it beat faster inside of you because of Quinn.

“Thanks, Quinn,” you sighed, getting off the stool. “I’ll go back to my hotel now. I’ll sleep before I decide what I need to do with my life.”

“A good nap is a good nap,” he nods. Then, scratching the back of his neck, he softly adds: “You can nap here if you want. I’ll head to the gym with my team but you’re free to stay.”

You can feel the blush adorning your face and you let out a fake cough, trying to get it back to normal.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

He chuckles and stares at you for a while, looking like he was in the middle of a battle with his thoughts. At the end, you’d have to thank whoever won inside of his head, because he walked until he was standing not even an inch away from you and kissed you on your forehead, soft lips making you shiver.

“No need to hurry. I like having you around.”

Oh, boy. This was going to be difficult.

taglist: @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @hischierswhore 🤎

#quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl x reader #nhl players #hockey #TYPA

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azzibuckets · 8 months ago

Text

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 4/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi take the next step in their fake relationship

a/n: this one’s pretty long, hopefully it’ll tide y’all over for a bit 💋

word count: 2.6k

masterlist w/ all parts

“I don’t know, I guess we just kinda grew on each other.”

Paige and Azzi stood weakly under the scrunity of their entire team, hands interlocked. Paige hoped the younger girl couldn’t feel the sweat in the palm of her hand. Lying to Geno was no issue, but to her best friends that knew her almost as well as she knew herself? Damn near impossible.

After aggressively interrogating the new “couple” with question after question, the team finally seem somewhat satisfied by their answers and stopped the barrage, leaving Paige and Azzi alone in the locker room.

“Holy hell,” Azzi breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as the last of their teammates left the room. “Good thing we went over our story like a hundred times. That was rough.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “It wouldn’t hurt you to practice lying a bit,” she remarked, wiping the sweat off her brow with a Gatorade towel.

Azzi bit the inside of her cheek. She hated when Paige made infuriating offhand comments like that, making her feel so inferior without even trying. “I’m sorry I’m just not naturally good at deceiving others,” she snapped.

The other girl stared at her before turning around to rummage through her locker. “I’m carrying most of the weight of this whole act, and you know it.”

The tension between the two of them returned, and they both changed in silence. Azzi mentally kicked herself. They were supposed to be on the same team now. No one on the team would keep on believing their act if her and Paige were always picking fights with each other. She might as well attempt to become friends with Paige, or as close to friends as she could get, so that their plan wouldn’t get ruined.

“Look,” Azzi sighed, breaking the silence, “we should probably like go somewhere and do something together.” Seeing the confused look on Paige’s face, she rushed to forge towards. “Not like a date, you know, but no one’s gonna believe we’re dating if we’re being nasty to each other. We should probably get to know each other and stuff.”

Paige nodded. It seemed like she was understanding Azzi’s idea until she said, “so you wanna get all up on me?”

“Oh my god, Paige-”

Paige’s eyes twinkled in amusement, having gotten the reaction that she wanted. “I’m messing with you. Yeah, that sounds fine.” She checked her watch. “Actually, you free right now?”

Azzi looked at her in surprise. “Why? You wanna go now?”

Paige threw her shoes in her backpack and zipped it up. “The sooner the better, am I right? Your car or mine?”

“I’ll drive,” Azzi offered. She figured she might as well take as much control over the situation as she could. It would be a lot easier for her nerves to quiet down if she had the wheel in her hands, literally and figuratively.

————————

Azzi rolled down her window, trying not to steal too many glances at Paige. They were painfully silent - the only sound in the car was some terrible country music filtering in from the radio. Azzi had initially connected her AUX, but decided that she didn’t want Paige to judge her music taste.

After a few minutes, Paige had had enough. “Bro, can we turn this shit off or play something else?” she begged, her tone dripping with annoyance.

“A please would be nice,” Azzi griped, resisting the urge to turn the volume up louder just to irritate Paige even further.

Paige folded her arms, hitting her head against her seat with an exaggerated thump. “Who even listens to the radio anymore?” she muttered under her breath. “It’s like I’m in a car with my grandma.”

“I’m not putting my playlists on just so you can shit on that too,” Azzi responded dryly.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Paige muttered. Then in a louder voice, “Can I play my music then?”

“We’re almost there. You can’t sit for another two minutes?”

Paige huffed. “Where are you even taking me?” She made a show of looking around their surroundings at the streets.

“Relax, it’s a good spot. They have good tacos.” Azzi smiled at the thought of biting into one of those mouth watering, juicy, shrimp tacos with the lime salsa she loved so much. Even if Paige was being an ass, at least she’d get to eat well.

When they reached the location, Paige was pleasantly surprised. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it definitely hadn’t been this. They were at an outlook on a hill, a little green park with some old town restaurants and stores nestled in the corner. The hill overlooked the city below, the entire atmosphere bathed in a soft pink light from the setting sun.

“Damn,” Paige whistled, taking it all in. “You did good for our first date.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed a light pink and she look away, tucking in one of her braids behind her ear. “This isn’t a date.”

Paige bit her lip. She loved when she got Azzi all flustered. Not because she thought it was cute, Paige reminded herself. She just liked to annoy her. “Oh really? I was gonna pay for your food, but I guess not,” Paige joked, dodging when Azzi tried to hit her.

Paige didn’t really know how the two of them so easily switched between frosty exchanges like the one on the car and then light-hearted moments like these. You guys were fickle.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Both of you had gotten your tacos, and were sitting at one of the picnic tables scattered next to the Mexican joint.

“I mean, we already got our story done.” Azzi carefully drizzled her tacos with salsa. “I think it’s the chemistry part of all it. We have to really sell that we’re dating through our behavior.”

Paige nodded in agreement. “Yeah. But we should probably set up some boundaries first.”

Azzi’s heartbeat quickened at that. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of the extent your fake relationship would go to. She’d already accepted hugging and hand holding and other basic forms of PDA - they wouldn’t be able to sell their act without it. But she shivered at the idea of there ever being a situation where you guys would have to kiss.

“I’m a pretty touchy person,” Paige admitted. “The whole team knows that. So you’re gonna have to deal with a lot of contact, or else they’ll know something’s up.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Azzi muttered. Paige looked up at her, studying her with a small smile on her face.

When she kept on smiling, the dark haired girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Paige was full on grinning now, as if Azzi had just the funniest joke ever. “Come here,” she motioned her head to the spot next to her on the bench.

“Go there?” Azzi rumpled her eyebrow quizzically. “My seat right now is perfectly fine, thanks.”

“Don’t be annoying.” Paige said. “Just come here.” Knowing how stubborn she was and that she likely wouldn’t stop bothering her until Azzi agreed, she gave up, pushing her food to the other side of the table and walking around to join Paige.

Easeinf her way onto the seat, she made sure to leave a gap between them. “Now what?”

Paige’s eyes flicked to the gap inbetween them and she rolled her eyes. “Why are you so far? Come here.” She reached out and wrapped her arm around Azzi’s waist, easily moving her so that the entire sides of their bodies were now flush against each other.

Azzi felt slightly lightheaded, but she blamed the feeling on the fact that she wasn’t a very touchy person in general and wasn’t used to this much contact with anyone in general. “Are you gonna tell me why I’m basically on you?”

“If you wanna sit on my lap, just say so,” Paige teased. When she was met with nothing but raised eyebrows, she said, “We gotta practice the public displays of affection and stuff. It needs to be able to come out of us naturally. We can’t be just be awkwardly holding hands, you know?”

Paige was smarter than Azzi gave her credit for, but she still didn’t like this feeling she was getting, all riled up with her heartbeat quickening from touching Paige. They were so close that Azzi could smell the perfume that the blonde must have sprayed on her neck, all sweet and fragrant.

They ate like that, without a single inch of space between them. It wasn’t as awkward as Azzi had thought it would be. It almost seemed natural, the way their bodies were so intimately pressed together. It was nice, Azzi thought, the warmth of someone next to you. She could understand why some people’s love languages were physical touch.

“Hey, are you Azzi Fudd?” Two giggly girls had approached their table. The one who had spoken had wide eyes and a breathy laugh.

“I am,” Azzi gave them a small smile. She agreed happily when they asked for photos and a signature; she loved UConn fans, and it was nice being recognized out in public every once a while. It made the sweat and tears that she’d dedicated to her sport worth something.

The girls were excitable though, and every time Azzi tried to end the conversation, they brought up another thing. Azzi could feel Paige fidgeting behind her, itching to get away from the curious but increasingly nosy questions of the girls. She tapped her foot against the pavement and sighed loudly. But Azzi ignored her, enjoying Paige’s growing exasperation.

But finally the girls seemed to take a hint, thanking Azzi profusely as they left. She looked over at Paige, who had already started throwing away her food and heading back to the car.

Furrowing her brow, she started to jog after the blonde. “Thanks for waiting,” she joked sarcastically once she caught up. Paige pursed her lips and continued walking, this time at a faster pace. “Are you trying to run away from me? Have you forgotten we’re heading to the same place?” Azzi puffed out, trying to keep up.

“You know, people don’t usually spend half of a date talking to someone who isn’t their date,” Paige responded, the harshness in her tone catching Azzi off guard.

Then realization dawned on her. Paige Bueckers was jealous. It surprised her somewhat - everyone knew Paige enjoyed being the center of attention. She just didn’t know that Paige could be jealous when it came to her attention. And she didn’t necessarily hate it.

“Hold up, Bueckers.” Azzi’s lips quirked up. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Paige snorted. “You wish. It’s just that the whole point of coming here was to work out any holes in our plan, yet we didn’t discuss it at all.” She sped up even faster, and Azzi grabbed her elbow, forcing her to spin around to face her.

“Are you mad?” Azzi asked, amusement still lingering in her eyes. When Paige didn’t respond, she stepped closer, brushing a blonde strand behind her ear. “Did you wanna practice, Paige?” She said, voice a whisper now. Deciding to have a little fun, Azzi let her gaze drop down to Paige’s lips before looking up at her through her lashes.

Paige visibly swallowed, and Azzi relished in the effect she was having on the girl. She was used to making Paige mad, making her voice rise and cheeks flush in frustration, but she could get used to this - making Paige nervous, making her heart race.

“Practice what?” Paige rasped out. Her eyes were focused on Azzi’s lips, so Azzi wet her bottom lip, letting her tongue slowly run over.

“You know,” Azzi purred, now bringing her hand up to run her fingers up Paige’s bicep. She danced her fingertips Paige’s skin, not letting it stay in one place for too long.

Paige exhaled, moving to bring Azzi closer to her before Azzi burst out with a laugh. “Oh my god,” she cackled. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Paige stepped back, her jaw clenched. If Azzi didn’t know better, she would think that Paige looked hurt, with her eyebrows dipped down and expression rigid, but she brushed it off. There was no way Paige cared enough about kissing her to actually be disappointed.

“I guess my flirting skills are getting pretty good, eh?” Azzi teased, but the other girl didn’t even look at her. This continued the entire way home, Paige staying silent while staring out the window, their dynamic now back to its fluctuating state.

“Are you mad or something?” Azzi asked once she had parked outside of Paige’s apartment. Paige ignored her, trying to open the door. Azzi smirked as she saw Paige struggle with the handle before realizing that she’d turned child lock on.

Giving up, the taller girl crossed her arms. “No.”

“Then why are you being all moody? Is this cuz I was flirting with you?”

Paige sucked in a breath, her cheeks hollowed. “What do you want me to say?” It was a genuine question, because even Paige wasn’t sure of why she was feeling like this. Her entire body had thrummed when Azzi had looked at her lips, and for some unknown reason she’d wanted to bring Azzi closer, to see what she tasted like. It was completely and wholly alien. Up until now the only thing she’d wanted to do to Azzi was bounce a basketball off the side of her head. And now Azzi’s pretty pink mouth was stuck in her head, had been burning in her mind the entire ride back.

Azzi shrugged, and that’s when Paige decided to take back the wheel. “You were right, actually. We should practice kissing,” she announced, feeling satisfied once Azzi’s eyes widened.

“Why?” Azzi stuttered.

Paige leaned over the console, a fiery look in her eyes. “You were all confident back at the park. What happened?” She challenged.

Azzi swallowed her nervousness. Cocking her chin, she said “I’m just scared you might pass out. You were a little bit too disappointed back there when I pushed you away.”

The girls’ eyes locked in a staring contest, both of them refusing to back down.

Until Paige opened her mouth, and blurted out, “I’m going to kiss you.” Azzi stared at the older girl, shocked by the abrupt bluntness of her statement. They both continued to look at each other, and when Azzi didn’t say anything, Paige leaned in, pressing her lips to hers.

Instinctively, Azzi brought her hand up to Paige’s cheek, and Paige tilted her head slightly, leaning into her warm touch. Paige’s lips parted, and Azzi took that opportunity to brush her tongue against hers.

It was like everything was moving in slow motion. Paige couldn’t even believe that she was kissing Azzi, the girl she’d gotten into more arguments with than she’d ever had with all of her teammates combined. Azzi, who always made her head spin and blood pressure rise. Azzi, who was annoyingly good at basketball, who knew how to get under her skin and press her sensitive spots. Except now she wanted Azzi to press different sensitive spots.

Paige was gentle and her lips so much softer than Azzi had expected. As they kissed, she let her fingers slip into Paige’s hair, feeling its soft silkiness. Her nails scraped Paige’s scalp, eliciting a soft groan from the blonde’s lips.

After what seemed like forever, they broke apart, panting and staring at each other in disbelief. Azzi licked her lips, now swollen, studying Paige, whose pupils were dilated and hair slightly mussed up from Azzi’s hands. Paige’s eyes, so pretty and blue, fluttered closed for a second before she reached for the handle of the car. “It’s getting late,” she swallowed. “I should probably go.”

Without a word, Azzi unlocked the car, watching as Paige hurriedly gathered her things and left. She walked briskly away with her head down, not looking back once. Once she’d disappears into the building of her apertment, Azzi groaned, letting her forehead rest against the wheel. What the fuck had they just done?

#paige x azzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #uconnwbb #wcbb #wbb #enemiestolovers #pazzi

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 5 months ago

Note

The worst opening ceremony ever

That’s because you’re looking at it all wrong. The opening ceremonies are incomparable, for a whole list of reasons:

The economic and financial situations, both in the country that’s hosting and for the entire world.

The country hosts

The creative and production teams involved in putting on the shows.

Geopolitical tensions and issues of the times

The athletes involved

You’re expecting 2008 production value in a 2024 world that’s dealing with different economic crises, two very significant wars with WW3 breakout potential, and a rising far-right/return to dictatorship. It’s incomparable.

You have to look at the opening ceremonies as their own standalone unit. And when you consider last night’s spectacle that way, it was actually a tremendous success:

Arson shut down most of the French trains and there were enormous fears of what it meant for the ceremony, but it went off without a hitch.

It rained the whole time, but all the performers still made good performances, no one was injured, and everyone made it.

Celine Dion made her first major public singing appearance while dealing with a huge medical condition. If you don’t know the significance of Celine Dion to the French or the song that she performed, then just be awed by her commitment to turn up, IN THE FREAKING RAIN, on TOP of the Eiffel Tower to perform. Who cares if she lip-synced? It was raining! She showed up anyway, with every right to demand the performance be relocated to the flat ground under cover.

The athletes all had a good time and were excited.

The cityscapes during the torch relay showed off Paris’s incredible architecture and skyline. Name any other city that can do that and have it be so meaningful.

The bells of Notre Dame rang for the first time in 5 years, they gave credit to all the workers and trades/crafts that have been restoring and repairing the cathedral, and gave an homage to the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

There was a lady in a croissant costume. A CROISSANT costume!

They had a choir of headless Marie Antoinettes accompanying a heavy metal band that was performing AT the very same prison she was held captive at.

They lit a piano on FIRE and floated it down the Seine while performing “Imagine.”

They acknowledged France’s bloody, violent history without it being preachy or sentimental. (Watch the LA 2028 ceremony ignore the US’s bloody history - I guarantee you it’ll highlight our melting pot culture but it won’t even touch on the oppression, slavery, Civil Rights era, or how indigenous peoples were treated, much like the London 2012 ceremony didn’t acknowledge Britain’s bloody history.)

They highlighted all the ways that French culture contributed to the global community; music, literature, love, fashion and Coco Chanel pink, Louis Vuitton, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, the minions, and French people’s contributions to modern sport (as well as foreign success in French sport).

The homage to Assassin’s Creed, the Phantom of the Opera, and other famous masked French figures in the torch relay and flag-bearers.

They had an opera singer dressed as the French flag singing the national anthem from a sloped rooftop over the stadium in the rain. I had literal chills, y’all. It can’t get more patriotic than that.

Organizers made statues of important French women to display during the ceremony and they’re DONATING all of them to Paris after the Olympics! I don’t know if you caught it, but the male-to-female representation in Paris’s statues is 4.5:1 (over 200 male statues, just 40ish female statues). It’s an incredible start towards gender equality in Parisian and French history that a lot of countries could take a note from.

Les Mis! Who doesn’t love a good musical interlude?! Especially one introducing a segment paying tribute to the French Revolution. (And I must admit, I’m now kinda expecting LA 2028 to have a Hamilton nod.)

The image of Assassin’s Creed with the dove wings behind her as she walked up.

All the athletes running together for the final torch relay - more chills! (Usually that doesn’t happen.)

Raising the Olympic cauldron by hot air balloon so everyone could see.

That amazing light show from the Eiffel Tower.

and so much more.

Yeah, the can-can line was sloppy and the audio quality was poor, the parade of nations took forever (they always take forever though) and no one understood the order they were coming in (because it wasn’t explained until *after* the ceremony that the upcoming hosts are also at the end) and there’s a ton people offended by the threesome and the drag queens on the grounds of religious morality (you can see my reaction to that criticism in the earlier post below), but overall, all things considered? Considering the entire 4-5 hour show, in the spectacle that is Paris, with a terrible weather forecast, in the unprecedented geopolitical times we’re in?

It was a kick-ass opening ceremony.

#olympics

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pedrointofolklore · 1 year ago

Text

Rosebud

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: carnations bloomed when you saw joel. too shy to admit your feelings, but too overcome to not, you began leaving flowers at his doorstep.

warnings: very brief but graphic depictions of violence, mentions of death/grief, tragic backstory, emotional processing, reader is a loser who falls in love in two seconds, lots of metaphorical language, swearing, mostly just self-indulgent fluff, joel is soft, big age gap (reader is in late 20s), no smut, no use of y/n (reader has a nickname), jackson era.

word count: 6k

a/n: hey y’all. i’m delving into the world of fanfiction writing and i’m tentatively posting this as my first story. this story by @army-author is what inspired me here—i read it years ago and loved the concept ever since. i also super don't know much about flower gardening so apologies for any inaccuracies.

Your earliest memory was sitting in the garden with your mother one September. You were small then, no more than three years old, covered in soil and some residual stickiness from whatever fruit you’d just devoured, watching with a curious eye as your mother pruned her roses.

When you thought of her, you thought of that garden. In your memories, it was a labyrinth. Flowers, shrubs and vines overflowed the yard. You used to fear getting lost in the brambles, but at some point, you started to crave their thorny embrace.

It was a pink rose, so bright and intense, like a painting come to life. She shed the thorns, tucked it behind your ear and pinched your chubby cheeks. That was the first time she called you ‘Rosebud.’ Nobody ever called you anything else.

You couldn’t have known then that you were just a few Septembers away from losing her.

She died on the first day, in the centre of the garden. Your lasting memory of her was your father driving a pair of garden shears into her jugular. She collapsed to the ground, blood as dark as a crimson rose pooled around her as your father wept over her lifeless body. You sprinted inside and threw up.

She died a stranger. You didn’t understand what was happening to her then, but you understood that she was gone before the shears even entered her neck.

It haunted you for the next twenty years—but that person was not your mother.

Whenever the wound opened, and that memory came flooding back, you closed your eyes and thought of her as she truly was—kind, gentle, passionate. You recalled her soft smile, her musical laugh, the books she read, the flowers she loved.

When you were a kid, you thought of her as the sun that kept those flowers alive. As you grew older, she became the sutures that kept you from falling apart.

You knew your father had no other choice, but you could never quite look at him the same. Still, he was all you had, and he kept you safe until the day he died.

It was your mother’s leather-bound notebook that kept you going. She listed every flower she could think of, and wrote the meaning next to it. That notebook went with you everywhere, all across the country. Every new species you came across, you found it in the book, memorised its meaning, and crossed it off your mental checklist.

Flower seeking had to be the most frivolous thing one could do at the end of the world, but it kept you close to your mother, and gave you some semblance of purpose. Each new flower felt like something blooming inside you—your own secret garden that grew from the depths of your soul.

Carnations bloomed when you saw Joel.

He first came to Jackson in December with a girl by his side. They were gone by the next morning, but you saw him. He was coming out of the bar, tugging his coat back on when you spotted him through the crowd of carolling townspeople.

Even from a distance, you noticed the pain in him—a pain similar to yours. There was a wistfulness in his face, a longing for something he missed, and a fear so intense it seemed paralysing. He clutched at his chest, holding in the marigold that grew where his heart should have been.

You wanted to know him.

He came back that spring with the same girl, and this time, he stayed.

It was a while before you spoke with either of them. Everyone who arrived in Jackson had a tendency to be closed-off at first, and you couldn’t fault them for that. You didn’t know where they’d been or what they’d done, but you knew they’d gone through hell.

You met Ellie first. She came by the greenhouse one day, arms crossed and face vacant. Her reticence might have been mistaken for hostility if you didn’t relate so much.

You tore your soil-covered gloves off and wiped a hand over your cheek, probably just further smudging whatever dirt was caked on there.

“Hi there!” You did your best to sound cheerful, to come across as someone who was definitely okay with unexpected visitors. “What can I do for you?”

“Maria told me you might need some help around here.”

You didn’t think you needed help, and it seemed like the girl wanted to be anywhere but here. But as you pondered her, you started to recognise what she was actually getting at.

She didn’t know what to do, but she needed to do something.

“What’s your name?” you asked.

“Ellie.”

“Nice to meet you, Ellie.” You held out your hand, which she stared at for a good couple of seconds before shaking. “Call me Rosebud.”

“You’re a florist named Rosebud?” She was incredulous, and you didn’t even care that she was making fun of you—it was the first time you’d seen her smile during this entire interaction.

“It’s a nickname,” you told her, “and I'm more of a floriculturist. If you want to help me out, grab some gloves and a trowel.”

“What the fuck is a ‘trowel’?”

You spent the next few hours with her digging holes in the soil, un-potting flowers and planting them in the ground. As apprehensive as Ellie had been to begin with, it didn’t take her long to warm up to you.

The first thing you learned about her was that she asked a lot of questions.

“Why do we have to move these?”

“It’s spring. They’ll do better in the ground.”

“Why didn’t Maria show us this place when we first came here?”

“It was winter. Half the flowers had gone to shit, so there wasn’t much to see,” you replied, flattening the soil around a sunflower plant.

The greenhouse had been established before you got there. Nobody ran it, it was something for everyone to tend to, but nobody cared enough to do so. The gardeners of Jackson preferred to focus on crops that could actually feed them. But then you arrived, and you knew how to grow a thriving flower garden, and with all the bees it brought, it only helped the agriculture. It also meant that Jackson had honey.

“This one’s cool. What is it?” Ellie asked. You looked over at the plant she was settling into the ground—a grassy little shrub with white flowers blooming at the ends.

“Starwort. It means ‘Welcome to a stranger.’”

“Appropriate,” Ellie said. “I didn’t know flowers had meanings.”

“It’s called floriography,” you replied. “I have a book all about it.”

Ellie stayed until the sun began to set, leaving in much better spirits than she arrived. You were used to working alone, and you thought you preferred it that way, but she turned out to be good company. You sent her home with a starwort blossom and a jar of honey as a thank you, and told her to come back any time. You really hoped she would.

You met Joel the next morning.

There was a knock at your door, which you expected to be Ellie back again. Instead, you opened the door to find her guardian standing on your front porch.

Your eyes flicked shamelessly over his form. He was broad, strong, with plaid sleeves hiked up to his elbows—you didn’t know it was possible to be attracted to someone’s forearms. His features were beautifully angular, especially his nose. But it was his eyes that really got you. They were dark like coffee, deep and intense. You could fall into them and never stop.

The garden you carried in your soul had never felt more alive. It was weird you hadn’t spoken yet, but you worried if you opened your mouth, the brightest, reddest chrysanthemums would come bursting out.

“Good mornin’. Sorry to bother you,” Joel finally said, with the rehearsed politeness typical of a Southern man. There was still an earnestness to him, like he didn’t quite remember how to do this but he was determined to try. “I think Ellie was here yesterday?”

“That’s right.” You internally cheered when your voice didn’t fail on you. “Is that okay? I know I didn’t get your permission. She just kind of showed up.”

“No, that’s okay. I just came by to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“She's been struggling to…adjust, I guess,” Joel explained, “but she was in a good mood when she came home yesterday. I think being here helped her, so thank you.”

You weren’t quite sure what to say. People silently appreciated what you did for the commune, but nobody had ever gone out of their way to thank you for anything. It was a little overwhelming.

“Well, she’s welcome here any time.” You didn’t think Ellie was particularly interested in gardening, but you could see that the girl just needed to feel busy, and maybe needed some company. You were just glad she could find that with you.

“Thank you,” Joel said again. “What was your name, darlin’?”

“Just call me Rosebud.”

You expected a laugh, a mocking jab of some sort, but instead he just tilted his head and looked at you with complete sincerity. “Pretty. It suits you.”

Your cheeks were embarrassingly warm.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Joel said. Your heart fell. “It was nice meetin’ you. And, uh, thanks again.”

He started to leave, but you weren’t ready for him to go. Before you could think it through, you called after him, “Wait.”

You might have imagined it, but for a split second after he turned back around, you could've sworn you spotted an eagerness in him, like he was hoping you’d say that.

“You can come inside,” you offered, “if you want.”

He did.

Five minutes later, Joel was standing in your kitchen, leaning against the counter. You could feel his gaze on you as you moved, getting the water ready and setting out two mugs.

“How do you like your coffee?” You were already sure of the answer.

“Black. No sugar.” Yep.

You poured the coffee into a mug, absent-mindedly blowing on it as you handed it to him. He didn’t wait for it to cool down before taking a sip, not even flinching at the heat.

You opted for tea with a generous amount of milk and honey.

“Thanks for the honey as well,” Joel said. “Ellie loves it. She’s never had anything so sweet.”

“That doesn’t surprise me if she grew up in a QZ,” you replied, turning to face him with your mug cradled in both hands. “I think I cried when I first got here and they actually had sugar.”

“When did you get here?”

“Around two years ago. My dad knew Seth—you know, from the bar—got in touch with him, and he told us how to get here,” you explained. You truly hated Seth, but he did save your ass and that left you obligated to be nice.

“Your dad’s not here, is he?” Joel spoke without any particular sentiment. It was an observation, plain and simple. You didn’t mind, you just shook your head. It felt normal to talk about your dad. You missed him, but his death wasn’t horrifically tragic to you—the man had a heart attack.

“What about you? I mean, how’d you end up here?” You were nervous about prying, or accidentally chasing him away before you really got to talk, but Joel had fascinated you since December. You needed to know more.

“I was in the Boston QZ for a while, left to look for my brother, found him.” He wasn’t going to get more detailed than that. Too much had happened that was difficult to talk about, and you could see that, because it was the same for you.

No matter how much you wanted to, you didn’t let yourself ask anything more. You didn’t ask why he’d been here in winter, why he left so soon, why he came back, why he didn’t come sooner if his brother was here, how Ellie fit into all of it. You didn’t ask, and you wouldn’t ask. All you could do was hope he’d open up in time.

It occurred to you just how different Joel looked now than he did in December, and not just because you were actually seeing him up-close. His whole spirit had shifted. Back then, he’d been like an open wound, barely being held together by exposed, bloody tendons that threatened to snap at any moment. He was different now—still wounded, but no longer in pieces.

There was something else in him too. Something dormant, but always on the verge of springing back to life. A quiet guilt.

“Flowers always been your thing?” Joel asked. You were grateful for the subject change.

“Pretty much. I used to know someone who loved them. Made me love them too.”

He nodded with an unexpected softness in his expression. It wasn’t pity, or even sympathy, but a warm kind of understanding.

“I know the flower stuff seems silly,” you said, looking down into the milky beige of your tea, “but it really is useful.”

“I know that,” Joel said. “I don’t think it’s silly.”

You could practically feel your chest split open that very second. Flowers sprouted from your heart, and they bloomed for Joel. They longed to reach out, wrap him up in their stems and vines and pull him into you.

Carnations. Chrysanthemums. Vervain.

You kept your composure until Joel left. You said your farewells, waved him off, shut the door, and immediately collapsed on your couch in a lovestruck heap. It was all so dramatic, the sofa may as well have been a bed of roses.

It wasn’t just that Joel was attractive—and fuck, he was attractive—it was the way he wholly and truly respected you. Respect was something you’d had to earn from everyone else around here, but Joel didn’t need any convincing. He saw your worth right away.

He was all you thought about for the rest of the day, the evening, until you went to bed that night. Even then, your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

These feelings were big, too big. Keeping them inside hurt, but you feared letting them out would be agony. They were safest with you, blossoming into flowers in your soul, where only you knew about them.

But still, you were wide awake, consumed by the urge to do something, say something.

So you got up, pulled your shoes on, went outside and picked a flower from your garden.

Jackson was desolate as you wandered down the street. The only residents awake at this hour were those on patrol. It might have been eerie if you weren’t so wound up.

You scanned each house as you passed by, looking for Joel’s. Your heart pounded in your chest when you found it. You didn’t need to be so nervous, the lights were off, but you kept imagining someone walking out and catching you in the act. But you’d come this far, and his front door was just a few yards away.

You climbed the stone steps with a quiet urgency, twirling the flower between your fingers one last time before dropping it just outside his door.

A single gardenia.

You were going to leave it at just one flower—you didn’t want to be weird and scare Joel off before you really got to know him. But then Ellie came by the greenhouse again.

“Did you leave a flower on our front porch the other day?” she asked, watering a yarrow seedling.

“What? Why?” You felt so lame, and so stupid for forgetting that Ellie lived there too. Your gesture was bound to get intercepted.

“There was a white flower out there. I showed it to Joel, and we figured it was from you.” It was a very reasonable thing to figure considering it was from you.

“What did Joel say?” you asked, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

“He said it was for him.”

“So he took it?”

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “Don’t know what he did with it.”

Ellie wasn’t nearly as invested in this as you were, but it still sounded promising. Joel had accepted the flower, maybe even liked it. The thought made your stomach feel strange, like a bunch of petals were flurrying around in there.

“Well, it was for him…” you mumbled.

Ellie glared at you in feigned outrage. “I’m insulted.”

“What are you complaining about?” you laughed. “I gave you a flower.”

“It’s wilting.”

“Fine then”—you handed her a pair of pruning shears—“go cut yourself a new flower.”

She wandered around the greenhouse for about five minutes and came back spinning a flower between her thumb and index finger. It had pure white petals and a bright yellow pistil. “I chose this daisy.”

“That’s a cosmos,” you corrected. “It represents harmony and balance.”

Ellie assessed the flower in her hand, genuinely mulling over the meaning of it, and you realised how much you appreciated her. She saw value in something you cared about.

“What did Joel’s mean?” she asked.

“I’m actually not sure about that one.” It was a total lie, but you sounded convincing enough that Ellie shrugged it off and carried on watering flowers.

You couldn’t help yourself after that. Knowing that Joel accepted your gift made you want to do it again. And again.

So you did. Every few days, when you were sure he and Ellie were asleep, you sauntered down to their house and dropped a flower outside the door. An aster, agapanthus, camellia…

Joel never mentioned it, and you never really expected him to, but the nods and soft smiles he gave you when he saw you around were enough to let you know he appreciated you.

But Joel would never know the true meaning of your flowers. It was better that way.

Maria and Tommy’s son was born later in the spring, and your garden had never seen so many visitors. The new parents were practically drowning in congratulatory flower arrangements, and eventually Tommy had to tell you to start turning people away.

One of these visitors happened to be Joel, and he was the one person you couldn’t turn away.

Unlike everyone else, Joel came to your door first. The slight nerves he’d had the first time he came over were gone, but so was the facade of sociability. Maybe this uncouth version of Joel should have irked you, but seeing him comfortable enough to drop the pretence just made you like him more.

“I need help with something,” he said, not even bothering with a hello.

“What is it?”

“A gift for the happy family,” he spoke bitterly, like he was actively trying not to grimace as the words came out.

“Flowers?”

“Flowers seem appropriate.”

Joel was strangely upset for someone who was welcoming their nephew into the world. You didn’t know the story between Tommy and Joel, just that they hadn’t seen each other for years before Joel and Ellie arrived in Jackson, and that Maria really disliked him.

But despite his sour attitude, it was clear Joel was trying. Whatever was weighing on him, he was pushing it down and choosing to be thoughtful for the sake of his family. Tommy could deal with one more bouquet.

You walked down to the greenhouse with Joel trailing behind you, his hands shoved into his pockets the entire time. On a better day, you would have tried to make conversation with him, but he obviously didn’t need that pressure right now.

He finally spoke up when you arrived at the greenhouse. “This place has seen better days.”

It wasn’t the flowers he was talking about, it was the structure itself. The contractor in him must have noticed the rusted metal pipes holding everything together, the holes and tears in the plastic sheets, and the fact that there was almost no room to walk.

“I know it’s bad,” you said with a nervous laugh. “It was built before I got here. I don’t think they used their finest materials.”

It was always cramped in here, but Joel being so broad and having such a presence made it even worse. He was closer to you now than he’d ever been. He smelled warm, like fresh coffee and leather and musk. It made your head spin.

“So, what kind of flowers are you thinking?” You needed to change the subject before you threw yourself at this man.

“Uh...pink?”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it. He couldn’t have been more vague if he tried.

“Why’s that funny?” He wasn’t mad, but he did seem impatient.

“Sorry,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Maybe you could elaborate on that?”

“I don’t know,” he groaned, running a hand over his prickly beard. “This is why I need help.”

You felt bad for laughing when he was so stressed out. He was overthinking something that should have been simple, and it made your heart ache for him. He was looking for guidance.

“We’ll do peonies for good fortune,” you told him, “and daffodils for new beginnings.”

His shoulders relaxed as some of the tension left him. Whatever was weighing on him was still there, but this was one thing that made it bearable.

You walked back to your house after cutting the flowers, where there was actually space to work. You expected Joel to leave then, go home and wait until the flowers were ready like everyone else did, maybe even have you deliver them on his behalf, but he stayed by your side.

“How do you know all this stuff?” Joel asked, sitting across the table from you as you worked. “About flowers, I mean.”

You never got into this with anyone, but your inexplicable attachment to Joel compelled you to open up. Whatever pain resided in him reminded you of your own. He understood you.

“My mom had this book. She wrote down the meaning of every flower she knew of, and I guess I’ve memorised it all over the years,” you explained.

Talking about her didn’t hurt like you thought it would. It was actually a relief.

“When did it happen?” You knew what he was asking.

“First day,” you replied.

He nodded solemnly. “Me too.”

This wasn’t the first time you had seen through the gaps in Joel’s armour, but it was the first time he’d made the choice to let you. You didn’t know his limits, if those two words were as deep as he could get, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just asked.

“Joel?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem happy about this,” you said, straightforward but still cautious.

“I guess I’m not,” he admitted, looking down pensively.

“Why is that?”

“Just don’t understand bringing a kid into all this.”

You agreed with him. The people of Jackson were as safe as they could be, but outside the walls were infected, raiders, FEDRA, and a multitude of horrors too awful to speak of. It would only take one mistake for Jackson to be completely wiped out. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into a world like that either.

But you also knew that most people who had kids post-outbreak hadn’t done it by choice.

“It’s not as if people have access to birth control,” you pointed out, stacking peonies onto a piece of tissue paper. “But I don’t disagree.”

“It’s just a lot for me to wrap my head around,” Joel continued—or maybe he was starting on a completely different train of thought. “Tommy’s the uncle. He’s always been the uncle. I’m…“

He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

“You still are,” you told him. “Tommy’s still an uncle.”

Joel was silent, letting your words sink in. It was cold comfort, and maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it was what you believed.

“Why do people call you Rosebud?” The question took you aback. It was completely unrelated, yet felt so important. He was the first person in twenty years to ask you that question.

“My mom came up with it when I was little. It’s what everyone’s called me since.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Joel asked. “Seems like a constant reminder of what you lost.”

It was hard having to live without her, but you never wanted to forget what you lost. “I guess I like the reminders.”

His hand absent-mindedly fell to the broken watch on his wrist, and for a fleeting moment, you were seeing the man you first saw in December. An open wound. Marigold.

“She didn’t stop being my mom,” you said quietly. “I didn’t stop being her daughter.”

And as quickly as the wound opened, it was once again sewn shut. He even managed a smile. “You’re wise, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

Ouch.

It felt like a kick to the stomach. In an instant, the carnations that bloomed when you first saw Joel all those months ago, that had been so red and vibrant, faded into yellow.

You held yourself together until he left. You finished arranging the flowers, wrapped them up, handed them over to him, said goodbye and wished him luck, then trudged over to the couch and flopped down onto it—this time in a dejected heap.

It wasn’t as if you thought you had much of a chance with Joel, but this just felt so awfully final. It didn’t matter that you were basically thirty years old—in his mind, you were a kid.

It was embarrassing. You thought about the flowers you left—a quiet admission of feelings—and prayed the couch would swallow you whole and suffocate you.

You’d gotten it all wrong. Joel never appreciated it. He probably thought it was weird and pathetic but didn’t have the heart to tell you. You wondered why he even accepted the initial flower, and if you weren’t feeling so spurned and humiliated, it might have dawned on you that you were overreacting.

You still left a flower that night, if only to get some closure. It would be the last one you ever left him.

A red tulip.

Joel came to your door one day in July.

You’d come to expect Ellie on your front porch at least once a week, but Joel wasn’t a surprise either. You were friends now, even after such an embarrassing rejection.

Joel still never mentioned the flowers. He was probably relieved when you stopped leaving them and wanted to pretend it never happened, and that was fine by you.

Being friends didn’t help matters though. He was always rough and grumpy in his Joel way, but he was sweet too. So sweet. It felt impossible to move on.

“Hey, Joel,” you said. “Need help with something?”

“I wanted to help you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I can’t keep lookin’ at that greenhouse,” Joel said. “It’s a piece of shit.”

You had to laugh at his honesty. “You want to patch it up?”

“Was thinking of taking the whole thing apart and rebuildin’ it.”

The offer stunned you. It was so generous and so out of nowhere. Your first instinct was to say no, that it wasn’t worth the trouble, but something stopped you. It was Joel coming to you in earnest and saying he wanted to help. It felt like an insult to deny him.

You smiled warmly and nodded. “Okay.”

“When can I get started?” he asked.

Shit. You had dozens of flower pots you didn’t know what to do with. “Uh, I’ll have to empty the greenhouse first. I guess I'll bring the flowers here in the meantime.”

“Ellie and I can help with that,” Joel said. “I’ll go get her.”

You blinked at him. “Now?”

“You got other plans?”

You absolutely did not. “Ah, no. Now is good.”

“Great.”

That was how you spent your day, lugging flower pots from the greenhouse and unloading them in your front yard with Joel and Ellie in tow. It was so lovely it bordered on being painful—pink roses unshed of their thorns pierced your heart.

You let yourself imagine for a moment that this was reality. That you, Joel and Ellie were a weird, happy family. The carnations in your soul had never been more yellow, and you instantly regretted indulging in that particular fantasy.

Joel was already at the greenhouse when you went there the next morning. He was up on a ladder, and half of the structure was already torn down. Rusted metal pipes and discoloured, ripped up plastic sheets were piling up a few feet away.

“Need any help?” you called out.

He looked down at you and smiled—a real, wide smile you hadn’t seen on him before. “You know what you’re doin'?”

“Not really.”

“Then, no,” he replied. “Don’t want you droppin’ anything on that pretty little head.”

Huh?

You flushed all over, wishing your couch was here so you could collapse onto it. Less than two months ago he was calling you a kid, and now he thought your head was pretty. The thought crept in that maybe he was purposely messing with you, but you liked Joel too much to entertain the idea.

“Well, I probably can’t help with the physical labour,” you said, cursing how nervous your voice sounded. “But if there’s anything else…”

“You’re a sweet one, Rosebud,” Joel said. He had to be doing this on purpose. “You just let me do my thing, and we’ll leave it a surprise.”

You laughed. “In other words, you’re telling me to get lost?”

He grinned at you fondly. “Just trust me.”

It only took one exchange for that hope to come back to life. You tried to stop it, tell yourself he was just teasing, that he didn’t mean it that way, but it was too late. Those carnations were already morphing back into a searing red.

You wanted to come by everyday and watch him work, but you stayed away and waited for him to come to you. It only took a few days for him to show up at your door, looking infuriatingly hot covered in blotches of sage green paint.

“Is it ready?” you asked.

“It’s ready.”

You followed along behind him, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t accidentally spot the new greenhouse before he was ready for you to look. You ended up just ogling his ass, which was a decidedly better and much more pinch-able sight than the ground.

“Look now.”

You lifted your gaze, and your hands flew up to your mouth as you let out a dramatic gasp.

It wasn’t just good, it wasn’t just an improvement, it was beautiful—masterfully pieced together with timber and painted the same sage green that Joel was sporting on his clothes. And it was bigger. There would actually be space for you to walk around inside.

Joel started to panic from beside you, and you realised you were crying. “Is it the green? I can repaint it if you hate it.”

You seemed to have lost the power of speech to reassure him, so instead, you threw your arms around him and held tight. The suddenness of it shocked him, and his hands found your waist. You weren’t sure if he was about to push you away or pull you in.

“So, you like it?” he asked.

“I love it,” you snivelled into his shoulder. “Thank you, Joel.”

He hugged you back then, caging you in with his big arms and making you feel so safe. You felt a prickly sensation on your temple as he brushed his lips against it.

Red tulips were threatening to burst out of you in droves. You didn’t want to let go, but you were seconds away from making a confession you couldn’t take back if you spent too much longer in his embrace.

You pulled yourself away, and even with the sun beating down on you, you missed his warmth.

He walked you back home, came inside when you offered him iced tea (you were out of coffee), drank it all even if it was too sweet for him, and all you could do was thank him repeatedly for what he’d done.

“Don’t have to thank me,” he said. “I wanted to do this for you.”

What did that mean?

“I’m sorry I never said anything,” Joel continued, a pink flush apparent on his cheeks.

“About what?” You knew exactly what.

“The flowers. I wanted to thank you, but I didn’t know how. I’m not used to it.”

“Used to what?”

“Kindness.” He almost winced, like it hurt to say.

“It was weird. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t weird,” Joel assured you. “It was…nice. Bummed me out when you stopped.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. I get it.”

You didn’t know what to say at this point. You didn’t want to be talking about any of it, and you were about to tell him that, ask him to move on from this, until he decided to put you on the absolute spot.

“What did they mean?”

Fuck. “Hm?”

“The flowers,” he said. “You said flowers have meaning. What did they mean?”

“I actually don’t know those ones.” That harmless little lie worked on Ellie, but Joel saw right through it.

“Why are you lying to me?” He didn’t even sound angry or annoyed, just genuinely curious, and a little sympathetic.

You considered doubling-down, insisting you didn't know, but you couldn’t do that him. It was a vulnerable conversation for not only you, but Joel as well. You understood how hard this was for him, and you cared for him too much to shut him down.

But you couldn’t say it, not verbally. Instead, you grabbed the notebook that was laying on your coffee table and held it out to him. There was a split second as he was reaching for it where you imagined yourself tugging it back out of his reach, forgetting about this entire thing, but then it was in his hands and it was too late. Nothing would ever be the same.

You held your breath as he flipped through it, his eyes flicking over the words. His face gave nothing away, but his finger was tracing over something.

Red tulip - declaration of love.

He gently shut the book and set it down, and your eyes stayed firmly on the floor, hoping if you stared at it long enough it would split open and consume you.

“Are you surprised?” You couldn’t project your voice above a whisper.

“I guess not,” Joel said. It was the honest answer, and the one you most expected. “I thought you were just bein’ nice, then Ellie kept insisting you were interested.”

That girl was smarter than you gave her credit for—and you already thought she was very smart.

“I thought there was no way,” Joel continued. “You’re sweet and young and so pretty. I’m just an old man.”

“I don’t care how old you are,” you replied.

“I’ve done a lot of bad things...”

“I don’t care what you’ve done. I care who you are now.”

You were looking at him now. He looked moved, rapt, and not at all like someone about to deliver a devastating rejection.

“And you want me?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause where neither of you said anything, but the air was thick with an unspoken question: Where do we go from here?

“Can I kiss you, Rosebud?”

You nodded, and he did. It felt like dozens of chrysanthemums, camellias and carnations all springing to life under your skin.

He was gentle in a way you never could have imagined, cupping your cheek with his palm and holding your waist with the other. It was reminiscent of the hug you’d shared earlier, and you wondered if he’d wanted to kiss you then.

His lips were rough, a little chapped, but soft in the way he moved them. This wouldn’t be how he always kissed, you were sure of that. Someday it would be messy, frantic, all-consuming. But this careful, slow movement of his lips against yours was all you needed right now.

He wanted to be gentle with you, because he cherished you like a rosebud.

flower translations:

rose (pink) - perfect happiness

rose (dark crimson) - mourning

carnation (red) - admiration

marigold - grief, despair

starwort - welcome to a stranger

chrysanthemum (red) - i love you

vervain - enchantment

gardenia - you’re lovely

yarrow - healing

aster - symbol of love

agapanthus - secret love

camellia (pink) - longing for you

peony - prosperity

daffodil (bunch) - new beginnings, hope, good luck

carnation (yellow) - rejection, disappointment

tulip (red) - declaration of love

rosebud (red) - pure, lovely

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

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hp-hcs · 1 year ago

Note

Um, yeah, I don't really have a specific character in mind (so you can ignore this if u want to!), but how would some characters react to a male reader who listens to muggle music, but like- metal?? yk

this is the kind of shit i wanna see in my inbox hell fucking yeah

❕i’ll be honest, my vibe has always been more punk/pop punk/metalcore/hard rock 🤷‍♂️ i did my best buttttt these are all just songs from my playlist so- (i adore my slytherin babygirls but they’ll always be second to my lord and savior glenn danzig)❕

also accidentally wrote gn reader again so that’s pretty girlypop

requests open

i’ve never actually written one of these like, group headcanons for a whole bunch of people, but i keep seeing other people doing it so we’re trying it out ig. do we like it? yes? no?

slytherin boys: gn! muggleborn! reader’s music taste is rather…unexpected

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

mattheo: die, die my darling — misfits

i’m of the opinion that mattheo would fucking LOVE the misfits (once you introduce him)

he walks into your dorm to ask you a quick question, and you’re just dancing around in your room screaming the lyrics to:

“DIE DIE DIE MY DARLING, DONT UTTER A SINGLE WORD”

“DIE DIE, DIE MY DARLING, JUST SHUT YOUR PRETTY MOUTH”

he’s like 🧍‍♂️😦😍

and that’s when he falls in love with you

jk, unless????

you show him the misfits’ entire discography, and bitch about jerry only (as u should)

he takes a bit too much of a liking to helena 🤨

yk, the song that goes “if i cut off your arms, and i cut off your legs, would you still love me, anyway? if you’re bound and you’re gagged, draped and displayed, would you still love me, anyway?”

🤨🤨🤨

interesting, mattheo. interesting. not concerning in the slightest.

he adores them and you guys listen to their music together when you study <33

y’all start running around screaming I AINT NO GODDAMN SON OF A BITCH

your teachers love it <3

theodore: nazi punks fuck off — dead kennedys

y’all were showering together

(is that really like a sexy thing? i sure as fuck don’t know 🖤🩶🤍💜)

you started singing to yourself and babygirl was like 😳☺️

he loves ur voice <3

even when you’re singing “nazi punks, nazi punks, nazi punks FUCK OFF”

(cause like……yk…….he’s a wizard nazi himself 😬👍)

awkwarddddd

he always lets you put on your music

to be honest, he doesn’t really care about the lyrics, he just loves that you love it

(*cough* simp *cough*)

draco: possessed by satan — gorgoroth

you’d just come back from winter break and had brought one of your holiday presents back with you: a new record player and a shitload of vinyls

you set it up in your dorm and asked your roomie, draco, if he’d mind if you played something

he'd never admit it, but he was wildly curious what muggle music sounded like

so of course, you blessed him with the sweet sweet sounds of gorgoroth 😌🥰

(aww, nostalgia <3)

he just looked at you like 😨

you then proceeded to educate him on gaahl beating the shit out of someone (a l l e g e d l y) and threatening to drink his blood

he’s now even more concerned

(do you or do you not tell him about the gogoroth concert ft. alive ‘crucified’ actors & impaled sheep heads vs. the country of poland?)

((idk babe that’s for you to decide))

blaise: boogie woogie wu — insane clown posse

i feel like blaise is chill enough to give any music a shot before deciding if he likes it or not

you weren’t that close, just acquaintances, but one day you just offered up your other headphone to him in the middle of a really boring class

oh, he’s in love

🎵😍😍🎶

you make him a playlist of songs you think he’d love, and he lowkey almost starts crying and that’s how he asks you out on your first date

(is it terrible to think that this might be your wedding’s first dance song?)

((NOW MURDERRRR))

(((UH OH, HERE COME THE PO-PO TOO MUCH MURDER)))

enzo: custer — slipknot

it’s your ringtone for someone 😌

like ur mom, or something? idfk

“incoming call from: birthgiver” 🎵CUT CUT CUT ME UP AND FUCK FUCK FUCK ME UP🎶

enz:🧍‍♂️

he doesn’t even know how to react

he’s only a bit terrified

he’ll listen to a few other songs you play for him, but will make you play the weird sisters afterwards

tom: reincarnate — motionless in white

he’s bitching about how much muggles suck and muggle music is trash blah blah blah

and ur like “oh really? wanna bet?”

you whip out your phone and start blasting your playlist

he would absolutely eat that shit up

it’s cheaper than therapy ig 🤷‍♂️

he hates being wrong about anything ever so he’ll never admit out loud that he likes it, but he will just show up at your dorm at like eleven pm like:

“do you have any more uh……song recommendations or something…..uhhhh” 🧍‍♂️

babygirl 💞

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twiceinadream · 1 year ago

Text

“Santa baby.”

Requested: Nope

Prompt: Fem! S/O finds a slutty Santa outfit and surprises Mina with it.

a/u: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! I apologize for being gone for so long, life has been really busy and to be honest I have had the worst writer’s block for months. I really struggled to finish this one but I wanted to push through and deliver my annual Mina Christmas post. I hope y’all enjoy! Thank you so much for all the love and support.

Word Count: 1.7k

Category: NSFW and Fluff

The soft glow of the Christmas lights you and Mina had set up around the apartment left it feeling even more homey than usual and the slightly too tall tree you and Mina had bought on a whim was set up in the corner of the living room. Filled with ornaments the two of you had collected from various trips and from all the different countries Mina had visited while on tour. A plethora of presents decorated the bottom of the tree and soft music played from the surround system as your girlfriend sat blindfolded on the couch.

Ever the patient woman, Myoui Mina sat perfectly still where you had left her a little over five minutes ago, promising her an early Christmas surprise. You had to shake off your nerves as you emerged from your guy’s bedroom, dressed in a very skimpy Santa outfit you had seen while Christmas shopping earlier that month and bought it on a whim with the intent of surprising your girlfriend with it for Christmas.

So you finally worked up the nerve to finally put it on and show her. It was a particularly short red dress, with faux white fur on the border, a small black belt and buckle around your midsection, and a little bow nestled between your breasts. As a finishing touch you added a Santa hat that now sat atop your head, “Okay, you can take your blindfold off baby.”

Mina hesitated for a second before reaching up and removing the eye mask you had forced her to wear. She blinked for a second as her eyes readjusted to the low light before her jaw fell slightly ajar and her pupils dilated, “Wow.”

The statement was simple but the appreciation in the Japanese woman’s eyes was unmistakable as you felt your body flush with heat, “What do you think, baby?”

Mina smirked as she beckoned you forward, her hand finding its way up your thigh, “I’d say you just put yourself on the naughty list, Y/N-Chan. The very very naughty list.”

You gulped as your girlfriend gave you “the look”. As you lowered yourself to your knees between her parted thighs, “What are you going to do to me, mistress?”

“Let’s see.” Mina hummed as she looked up in thought, “Oh I know, why don’t you get on my lap and tell me. Tell me what you wish for Santa baby.”

You rose slowly from the floor as you positioned yourself over one of Mina’s thighs, straddling it but not lowering yourself. You knew better than to do anything without her permission, “May I sit, mistress?”

“Yes.” You bit your lip as you held back a small gasp as a delicious pressure greeted your clit as you settled atop your girlfriend’s knee. Mina hummed in approval, “So, tell me Y/N-Chan, what do you wish for this Christmas? Oh, and move.”

You let out a breath as you began to grind, “I wish for…” Mina raised her thigh so it pressed harder into your cunt making you stop to regain your focus as you felt your wetness seeping into the flimsy thong you had worn beneath the dress, “for whatever pl…pleases you, mi..mistress.”

The Japanese woman stayed silent for a few moments more as you continued to grind, her thigh becoming slicker as your breaths grew labored. “Good answer, keep going.”

You nodded more focused on your pleasure than your mistress’s words as you felt your peak drawing nearer. But Mina did not appreciate your lack of response, “You’re being naughty, stop.” But you weren’t listening as you continued grinding, moans slipping past your lips as you were a hair away from cumming.

However, you never reached the blissful end you were expecting as Mina took hold of your hips and pushed you off her thigh. Causing you to stumble back onto the floor as a very unsatisfying orgasm ripped through you, your inner walls clenched around nothing as the ruined orgasm finally passed. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked up to meet the disappointed gaze of your mistress.

Mina tsked as she stood up from her spot on the couch, “And here I thought you were a good girl this year, Y/N-ah. But I guess not. Do you know what happens to naughty girls, baby?”

You felt a small tremble of pleasure and fear race up your spine as you nodded slowly, “Th..they get pu…punished.”

That brought a smile to your girlfriend’s face, “Correct. So,” her voice turned dark, “bedroom. Now.”

You were quick to do as you were told not wanting to upset her further as you scrambled to make it to your guy’s shared bedroom. You knew better than to upset Mina further as you took your place on your knees at the foot of the bed.

“Look who wants to be a good girl, now.” The Japanese woman’s voice was condescending as you felt small under her domineering gaze, “Come.” Mina sat at the edge of the bed, her legs once again spread as you finally realized the outline of your favorite strap-on under her trouser seams. You crawled forward as you waited for her next instructions, “I don’t have all night, get to it.”

You immediately sat up on your knees as your fingers worked as nimbly as they could to unbutton and unzip your girlfriends slacks, finding that she forwent any panties as the strap all but sprung up and nearly hit you in the face. The toy had never looked more intimidating as it did in this moment as you looked up for permission, “Suck.”

Mina’s words were simple but they had the desired effect as you ran your tongue up the length of the strap, coating it in a thin sheen of saliva as you licked up to the head of the shaft. Even though you knew your girlfriend couldn’t fully feel the true effects of your tongue, but you would be damned if you didn’t give her a good show. And by the way Mina was slowly bucking up into your mouth it was having the desired effect.

You continued teasing the head of the toy before you felt a firm pressure at the back of your head as your mistress began forcing more of the strap into your throat as you had to prevent yourself from pulling away as you relaxed. When Mina believed that you got the message she stopped urging you forward letting you catch your breath as you took in more of the toy till you physically couldn’t anymore before pulling back to the head. You took a second to breath before going back down but this time you wrapped your fist around the base of the toy and began stroking up to meet your lips, causing the toy to rub against your girlfriend’s clit and g-spot as the insertable part was jostled by your movements as well.

Mina moaned as her hips rose to meet your mouth, inadvertently forcing more of her cock into your throat as she chased her peak. Drool spilled from the corner of your lips and pooled into your palm, slicking your hand’s movements as your girlfriend drew closer to her orgasm. Your girlfriend’s breathing became ragged and her pace was beginning to falter, a signal that had been ingrained into your brain that she was close. But before you could send her hurtling into the pleasure filled abyss, for the second time that night she pulled you away.

The feeling of the toy slipping out of your mouth startled you slightly but you didn’t get a chance to question it as Mina reversed your positions and stood from the bed. Pulling you up then bending you over the side as she flipped up your skirt and pulled your ruined thong to the side. The insides of your thighs were covered in your wetness, you moaned as you felt Mina run the strap through your folds, slicking the head even further before she positioned the toy at your entrance. “Color?”

You didn’t even need to think, “Green!”

Without wasting another second your girlfriend pushed in, your inner walls gladly parting for your mistress’s cock as you moaned aloud. You felt unbelievably full as she bottomed out inside of you, Mina held still for a few moments to allow you to adjust to the stretch for pulling out till only the head of the strap remained inside before thrusting back inside.

The ruined orgasm you had experienced earlier in the evening came back with a vengeance as the knot in your stomach was wound so tight that you swore it could snap at any second. Your body was flushed with pleasure as your moans grew louder as you began rocking back to meet Mina’s thrusts, “F..fuck I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum!”

This time your girlfriend didn’t stop you, “Cum for me Y/N-ah!”

You didn’t hold anything back as you felt the knot inside you snap, you bit the comforter to prevent yourself from screaming as Mina continued fucking you through your orgasm. But your fingers began digging into the bed when you realized she wasn’t stopping. “Mi…Mina!?”

“One more baby, give me one more.”

Her voice was calm as her brows were creased in concentration as her hips somehow sped up and began thrusting into your harder as she too chased her orgasm. Tears stung your eyes as your body began to overload with pleasure as you felt an even bigger orgasm building up inside of you. The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room where your moans didn’t as you began falling over the edge again.

A scream ripped itself from your chest as Mina thrusted into you for a final time as she came, but your brain was a mess as your inner walls gripped along your mistress’s silicone shaft attempting to milk it for all it was worth as you squirted slightly onto the floor. Your legs shook so bad that if Mina had not been holding you up you would have collapsed onto the ground. You barely realized how sleepy you were becoming as Mina slowly pulled out and began helping you into bed.

She quickly busied herself with cleaning and undressing you before undressing herself and slipping into bed beside you. You immediately curled into her arms as Mina placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“You truly are the best Christmas gift I could have ever asked for.”

You smiled as you felt sleep begin to take you, “You too, Minari. Love you.”

Mina didn’t even get a chance to respond before you were asleep in her arms, a soft smile gracing her lips as she held you closer, “I love you too, Y/N-Chan. Merry Christmas.”

#twice #fortwice #twice imagines #twice prompts #twice smut #twice fluff #myoui mina #twice mina #myoui mina x fem reader #myoui mina x reader #merry christmas #twiceinadream

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rockstarhaechan · 11 months ago

Note

Could I request boyfriend Doyoung headcanons or bulletpoints if you haven’t done it yet?

If you did, maybe some soft Doie boyfriend imagine? Rainy day cuddles, soft music in the bg…you get it 🥰

-☕️anon(if i can be?🙏🏻)

doyoung boyfriend bulletpoints

pairing: bf!doyoung x fem!reader

warnings: pet names, fluff

note: ahhhhh of course, i’ll add you to my navigation <3 you’re my first anon 🫶🏻

being in a relationship with doyoung is like having a lover, partner and best friend in one.

he definitely doesn’t seem like he would be interested in a lot of things you do, but he still cares about what you like and what you don’t like.

doyoung always notices small changes on you, for example when you get your hair cut just a little bit or when you wear a different shade of blush.

he gives you his sweaters when you’re cold, but he likes them better on you anyways.

“you want me to help you princess ?” is what he always says whenever you start cooking for the two of you.

doyoung openly speaks about marriage and kids with you, always talking about how much he would love to have a child with you and how badly he wants to marry you.

one night when you came home from work you sat down to do the laundry for him cause he needed his clothes in the morning but doyoung refused to let you stay up and helped you so you could finish faster.

flowers. oh how he loves to buy you your favorite flowers without any specific reason.

doyoung also loves to take you out on fancy dates, always wanting to make you the happiest girl on earth, which he is definitely succeeding.

his favorite color on you is red so for y’all’s anniversary he got you a long red sparkling dress which you absolutely love till this day.

he is always on the phone with you, making sure you fall asleep while he is out of the country.

most of all, doyoung loves you so much that he could never imagine someone else in his life, praying you’d never leave him behind and will always love him, which you do.

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imasoftieforbarb · 1 year ago

Note

I can request a spruce/bruce with a female reader that's a country troll that grew up as a pop troll? (I did this right? English isn't my first language jsjsjs)

Spruce/Bruce with a pop turned country troll

Let’s get this straight

He loves you so much

This will literally only make him fall harder

Im gonna say y’all met when he was Spruce

(Cause he said he changed his name when he had kids)

Now

Y’all had been dating for quite a while

And he KNEW you were keeping a secret from him-

He was a lil bit hurt

But he didn’t question you, he knew you’d come to him in your own time

He thought it had something to do with your voice- cause you never sang

Until he came over to your house (pod) one day and heard someone singing a beautiful country melody

And when he saw it was you?!?!

Mans was fanning himself with his hand, knees buckling- HES WHIPPED FOR YOU

Decides to let you come to him about it

And when you tell him he’s like “oh, I know!”

“And he’s so super chill about it- like when y’all play music together he makes effort to learn some country songs so y’all can jam together

If you decide to pick up that country twang?

He’s on the floor, call an ambulance- man’s is head over heels in love

#brozone #brozone x reader #trolls band together #brozone spruce #brozone spruce x reader #trolls bruce #trolls bruce x reader

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averagewriter-inthedark · 23 days ago

Text

What He Didn't Do | Top Gun Maverick Imagine

Takes place after the events of Top Gun: Maverick

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: female country singer!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), reader x ex!oc (past romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, slight angst, mentions of toxic relationship, pop culture references | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: On a trip to Nashville to visit their country friend and Natasha's best friend, Y/n, the group gets a peak at some music she's been cooking up. In doing so, they learn the inspiration behind a song on her upcoming EP is linked to her most recent heartbreak.

Note: holy shit guys, I know it's been A LONG TIME but I'm 2 weeks away from finishing grad school!! I cannot believe I'm about to have a Master's degree, but now I gotta really start figuring out what the hell I'm doing next 💀. Job searching sucks, but I plan to get some writing done as I apply now that I will for sure have plenty of time to work on some stuff. Plus I've been in a reading binge which I've been slumping on also. ALSO WOW THANK YOU FOR 2K FOLLOWERS!!! HELLO?!?! how'd that happen omg I cannot thank y'all enough for the love and support on my works. I love you all so so much. I hope you enjoyed this work and the person who requested it I hope I did it justice!

------------------------------

“Hey, Natasha! Over here!” shouted the familiar voice the moment Phoenix stepped into The Barnyard country bar & grill, flanked by her fellow Navy pilots who joined her on the trip to Nashville, Tennessee following another successful mission. The voice belonged to her best friend since high school, up and coming country music sensation, Y/n L/n. Donning her usually boot cut denim jeans, white tank with a weathered flannel tied around her waist and sparkly boots. Her cream colored Stetson hat topped her head.

A beaming smile on her face, Natasha embraced Y/n, her hat slightly tipping back causing the woman to reach for it before it fell. “Been a long time, cowgirl.”

“A long time indeed, citygirl,” she laughed, pulling away with a grin. “And I see you brought some friends too. How you doin’ boys--ah!” a squeal ignites when Y/n’s swept off her feet by none other than Rooster. Spinning her around once before setting her back. “Nice to see y’all missed me after all.”

“Are you kidding,” Rooster scoffs, moving aside to allow the others to greet her. “We’ve been counting down the days before you finally decide to move back out west. The Hard Deck ain’t as popping anymore without your shows.”

“Yeah, Y/n, when are you gonna change the mountains back to the beach?” Coyote jokes.

“I don’t know,” Jake muses, glancing around the packed house, being not so subtle in his checking out of the ladies. “I quite like the scenery.” Fanboy and Payback exchange a look.

“Yeah. Scenery.”

“Awe y’all too sweet,” Y/n takes the small bag Bob hands her, “What’s this?”

“A little gift from all of us,” he replies, watching with a smile as she removes the tissue paper followed by a growler of Penny’s famous draft beer straight from the Hard Deck.

“Ah!” she gasps, inspecting the bottle with joy. “You brought me Penny’s IPA?! Y’all don’t know how long I’ve been thinkin’ about this. Ugh! I can already taste it.”

“Penny and Mav send their helloes,” Payback tells her, “they wanted to come but with the Hard Deck being renovated they unfortunately could not.”

“Oh I understand. I can’t wait to see what the place looks like next time I visit. Penny told me how she’s extending the back patio to have an outdoor bar.” Y/n places the growler back in the bag, moving to hug them all again while saying thanks. “C’mon now, I got y’all a spot up front with some cold ones ready.”

Jake claps his hands, “That’s what I like to hear.”

They follow Y/n and settle down at the large round table next to the stage. It was still a couple hours till the show, and the band had already set up leaving them plenty of time to catch up on all things new while also playing darts since the board was beside the table.

After a few minutes, Natasha glances around with a curious frown on her face, “Where’s Klein?”

The glass of whiskey in Y/n’s hand pauses mid-air, her smile dropping to something strained, “yeah….he’s not coming tonight. Or ever again.” The table quiets, Mickey, Javy, and Jake stop throwing darts. Licking her lips, Y/n places her glass down, “I meant to tell you on our last phone call the other day, but felt it was better to tell you in person since I know he was your friend too.”

Klein and Y/n had been together for what felt like forever but really their relationship had been five years. They met in college, became friends and then a couple years after graduation the two decided to pursue a relationship. It was bliss in the beginning. Full of romance and the things one sees in the movies. Yet, once the honeymoon phase wore off a year in, things went sour. Klein went to grad school for business and Y/n started her journey in country music and from there the couple’s problems began.

They say that when you’re happy and having fun, time flies. But when you’re miserable….it’s dragged out until you’re drained and on the verge of losing it. That was the best description of their relationship. Miserable and dragged out. Both parties were aware they were not going to last and just kept it going for the sake of company and having someone. Leaving them resentful and doing or saying things that hurt the other.

They barely saw each other with Y/n playing gigs with her band and Klein working long hours at the office. She was becoming a household name in the South and Midwest. Her TikTok where she posted short clips of her shows and songs went viral, followed by reaching three million subscribers on YouTube. Then when Y/n decided to move to San Diego with Natasha for a year, the two fought over the decision and actually broke up for a period of time. A decision that only lasted three weeks.

They flew out to see each other, facetimed every other day, texted consistently. Tried desperately to make it work. Thinking back to their friendship before dating and how happy they were that first year. But still, they knew it was to no avail and their relationship was crumbling. They accused the other of cheating, they hung up during phone arguments. Klien forgot their anniversary. Y/n missed his birthday.

It was a disaster. And it finally came to a climax a month ago when the two broke things off for good.

The dagger squad knew Klein, and Natasha knew him even longer having been best friends with Y/n. She supported her friend, and was there as her shoulder to cry on. Though she disapproved of their relationship with how toxic it had gotten, Natasha never interfered unless it got bad. Then again, Y/n resorted to keeping her and Klein’s problems private roughly two years after they started dating.

“You broke up,” Nat stated for her. Y/n’s face telling her all she needed to know.

“Yeah,” a nod confirmed for the rest of the table, the singer’s eyes drawn to the half drunk glass of whiskey. “It was inevitable. You know that.”

Nat tightened her lips, falling into the back of her seat with a sigh, “I hoped otherwise. But yes, I had a feeling when you didn’t mention him the past several calls we’ve had.” her voice softened, a wave of sadness for her friend consuming the pilot.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I had a lot going on between him moving out and meeting with the producer on my EP.” After reaching five million followers on TikTok and returning to Nashville, a producer from Warner Music Nashville, label for names like Kenny Chesney and the Zac Brown Band, messaged the singer about setting up a meeting. “I lost track of everything else.”

Nat patted her shoulder, rubbing it softly, “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Y/n. Breakups are hard and there’s nothing wrong with taking a little time for yourself before having to face the world. I’m just glad you’re telling me now so I can be there for you from here on.”

“Us,” Rooster corrects with sass, “Thank you for telling us, so that we can be here for you.”

“My bad,” Nat rolls her eyes, but her smile says she’s not really annoyed. “Us. We’re here for you, Y/n, and whether it’s to listen or offer advice, we got your back.”

“Thank you,” Y/n taps her fingers against the glass, her face expressing gratitude. “I really appreciate that and it’s comforting knowing I have you guys,” she meets each of their eyes, “I’ll be fine. I always am when something doesn’t go as planned, but it’ll take some time.”

“Of course,” Nat assures with a smile. “Take all the time you need.”

“I can’t lie though,” Y/n pauses to down the rest of her whiskey, “it’s been a great help with songwriting lately. Been pouring out my feelings into the work like I’m writing a diary.”

Nat raises a brow, intrigued, “well that’s something good to come out of it. When will we get to hear it?” a smirk graces Y/n’s lip, mischief in her eyes. “Sooner than you think.”

“Alright ladies and gents, theys and thems, listen up!” booms the bartender who’s taken the stage the moment the clock struck 9. Everyone’s attention turns to them, the once vibrating chatter of conversations seizing. “It’s my honor to introduce tonight’s entertainment. She’s a local gal on her way to becoming a country music sensation. You might know her from YouTube and TikTok, or seen her performance with Laney Wilson this past spring.” Few people, including the Dagger Squad, begin clapping and cheering. “Give it up for Nashville’s own, Y/n L/n and the Barnyard’s beloved The Barrels!!”

Whistles break out and hollers from every corner of the Barnyard. People snapping photos and ready to video record as Y/n waves to the crowd, walking up the steps to the stage and approaching the mic. The Barrels taking their places by their instruments.

“Howdy folks!” a chorus of “heeeyyyys,” follow the greeting. “How we doin’ tonight?” she waits for the audience to respond, slinging the guitar--her most precious possession--over her shoulder.

“Thank y’all for coming tonight, it’s always a grand time playing here at The Barnyard, seeing all you fresh and friendly faces. Much thanks and appreciation for the wonderful staff and owners for letting us grace this stage,” raising her whiskey, the crowd follows suit and cheers for the staff. The head bartender/owner sent a salute her way.

“Thank you to the lovely musicians behind me,” she turns to raise her glass to the band, “The Barrels, who’ve allowed me to join them and be a part of their expedition to this crazy world we’ve sold our soul too.” They all laugh, tipping their beers and glasses to the singer. The crowd whistled.

Taking a large gulp, Y/n hands the drink to Natasha, and adjusts her guitar. “We’ve put together a great show for you tonight. First a few covers of Country’s best and then some originals I’m honored to share with you after much anticipation.”

“Yeah let’s go,” Jake shouts, clapping with the rest of the daggers.

“You got this, Y/n!”

“Show them how it’s done!”

Y/n’s angelic voice carries through the establishment. Singing along to “Ain't in Kansas Anymore,” By Miranda Lambert from the Twisters soundtrack. Followed by “Bless the Broken Road,” by Rascal Flatts. That had Nat and Bob tearing up, as well as Jake though he’s never admitted it.

They covered “Jesus, Take the Wheel,” by Carrie Underwood, had a few couples slow dance to “Tennessee Whiskey,” by Chris Stapleton, and had the crowd hype to “Man! I feel like a Woman,” by Shania Twain.

Then they began to perform the songs Y/n had spent countless time and energy writing. Pouring her heart and soul into the words on the paper. The memories surfacing, the smell of grass and liquor. Block parties on a Friday night. Line dancing and barrel racing. Sun beating down and rain pelting from the sky. The love and heartbreak coming together as a symphony.

“This last song,” she spoke into the mic, having just sang the more upbeat and happy songs for the crowd. Waiting for the right time to introduce the piece she was most anxious about. Y/n wrote it fresh off the breakup following two pints of ice cream and a bottle of Riesling. It took only two hours, and she felt so confident in how raw the lyrics that she hardly made any corrections.

It was her most intimate song ever.

“Is a personal one. One that really had me searching into the deep parts of my soul. It’s a song I feel many of you will relate to if you’ve experienced a great love that became a great loss.” Faces in the crowd shift, mirroring her own to signify they understood the meaning behind her words. “Sometimes to move forward in the future, you have to let go of the past. And this song is just that. I hope you like it.”

Silence filled the bar, Y/n taking a deep breath and glancing at Nat, who raised her thumb and mouthed, “You got this.” Exhaling, the woman started strumming, letting the melody flow into the air.

“Everybody's asking what the hell happened

Wondering why it all went wrong

Mama always said, "If you can't say something nice

Then don't say anything at all"

I've got my side of the story and he's got his side, too

So I ain't gonna go and tell you what he did

But I'll tell you what he didn't do”

Nat perched her elbows onto the table, letting chin drop on her hands as she listened intently to her best friend’s voice. The words cutting deep and letting Nat feel all the emotion Y/n was releasing after keeping it bottled in for so long.

“Treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he couldn't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the еnd, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

“I'm already halfway ovеr him and I ain't taking time to turn around

So I'mma take the high road, even though we both know

I could run him out of this town”

Y/n strummed the guitar, keeping her eyes closed the entire time to hold back the tears threatening to escape. The music guided her, a comforting blanket like the hug of a loved one.

“That's just dirty laundry, I don't need to wear the truth

So I ain't gonna tell you everything he did

But I'll tell you what he didn't do

“Treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he couldn't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

I ain't met the right one yet, but I know when I do

Coming up to the final verse, Y/n unleashed everything. Belting out the lyrics and giving it everything. The moment signifying not only the end of her and Klein for good, but the beginning of a new era in her life.

“He'll treat me right, put me first, be a man of his word

Stay home 'cause he wanted to

Always fight for my love, hold on tight like it's something

That he can't stand to lose

The devil's in the details

I won't tell the hell that he put me through

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do

All I know is in the end, it wasn't what he did, no

It was what he didn't do”

As her fingers brushed over the strings one last time, Y/n opened her eyes right as the crowd exploded into elation. Whistles and hollers at every corner, louder than anything she’d heard before when playing at the bar. Igniting a wide smile on her face and the tears she’d been holding back to finally fall.

The loudest of course were the dagger squad. The guys all pounding their fists on the table while shouting, Nat jumping up and down with her own face caked in tears.

“Thank you everyone!” Y/n waved, removing her guitar before embracing the members of the band. “Thank you for having us and we hope to see you next Friday! Be on the lookout for our debut EP dropping Christmas Day!” The audience released another wave of loud cheers, excited by the news. The owner saluted Y/n again when she threw up a two-finger salute of her own. A moment later, a staff member was bringing over a bottle of Whiskey and glasses to the table, “Courtesy of the owner.”

“I’d like to propose a toast,” Rooster held up his glass after pouring everyone theirs. They all stood, Natasha’s arm around Y/n’s and Mickey on the singer's other side. “To friendship. You clowns are by far the most annoying assholes I’ve ever met, but there’s no one else on this goddamn planet I trust more with my life. You’re more than friends, you’re family and I know like the wingman you are in the sky, you’ll always have my back.”

“Here, here!” the table echoes. But none raise the glasses to their lips yet as Rooster continues, “And to Y/n, our darling, country belle, you’re going grab the industry by the balls and make it your bitch,” the two women break into belly laughs, nearly spilling the alcohol on each other. Y/n tips her glass with a look reading, “You know it, baby.”

“Best wishes and good luck to you on this next chapter in life. You are going to do wonders in the world, and we are all honored to be here to witness it unfold. We love you, darlin’.”

“Here, here!!”

“I love you guys so much!!” she shouts in unison with the clinking of the glasses. Throwing back the whiskey in one gulp.

Y/n may have lost a piece of herself in the many years spent with Klien. The endless hours of crying, wondering where it all went wrong. Anxiety piling up like a volcano just waiting to explode so the steaming lava flowed out. The years with Klein were an integral part of her 20s going into 30s. And he was a constant figure in many milestones she achieved.

Mourning the end of their relationship was not only the loss of a lover, but also a friend.

But Y/n looked forward to the next chapter in her life. Knowing she wasn’t alone in her endeavors, there was the ever lasting support of her friends and family. Visible by the group of naval pilots surrounding the table. Her career looked promising, an EP done and about to release. The power of social media gifting her opportunities she’d dreamed of years ago.

As the whiskey flowed and the jukebox played, “Mississippi Girl,” by Faith Hill, Y/n leaned into the warmth of her best friend Natasha. Ready to barrel race her way to the top of the Country music charts.

............................................

Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

#top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #natasha trace x platonic!reader #dagger squad x platonic!reader #singer!reader #top gun maverick au #tgm imagine #jake seresin x platonic!reader #bradley bradshaw x platonic!reader #javy machado x platonic!reader #reuben fitch x platonic!reader #mickey garcia x platonic!reader #bob floyd x platonci!reader #tgm fluff #tgm fanfic #Spotify

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t0ast-ghost · 4 months ago

Text

The last one… it’s been coming for awhile…

Here’s my thoughts on Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country

(Spoilers for- well— everything)

- Before watching this movie I was trying to figure out why they chose this name and was told by my mom it’s a Shakespeare reference which.. I should have guessed

- “A Nicholas Myer Film” Cool! Now we know who to blame or bow to

- The music is so fucking intense I’m worried now

- I know Christopher Plummer is famous, I can’t place the face though and I want to say I know the name from the muppet show

- WAIT. Michael Dorn… WORF

- Wanna let y’all know that there was a guy (Harve Bennet) who wanted to create a completely different sixth movie that would’ve been more like a prequel where they recasted everyone to have an “academy era” movie with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy shenanigans. Gene Roddenberry didn’t fucking like that idea (cause only he knows how to cast apparently)

- explosion :)

- Teacup that tells you what ship you’re on. I now understand why everyone hates Quark trying to spread his own brand when Starfleet clearly is trying to push their own into every single crevasse

- HIII SULU HIIII

- It’s nice that they gave him the ship he kept saying he was hoping for in voyage home

- I won’t make a fart joke out of “gaseous planetary anomalies” and I definitely won’t say that Q did it

- DAMN NOT THE TEACUP. NBC Hannibal would fucking hate this movie

- Forgot how much I freaking love George Takei and I am so happy they gave him more stuff to do in this movie

- Falling… for about 7 seconds which is about 4 seconds more than normal

- Fairly certain that’s Janice Rand (5:32) (edit: it is! Hi Janice!!!)

- “We have no need for assistance,” and “Stay out of the neutral zone,” sounds like challenge

- Kirk says “What are we doing here?” STARRRING IN THE SIXTH STAR TREK MOVIEE BABEYYYY

- Scotty bought a boat, Uhura teaches seminars at the academy, I love hearing about their lives, keep going

- “Where’s Spock?” Asked in the saddest wettest voice. Kirk’s got his priorities straight. Er- well- not straight exactly but they’re there

- Them trying to hide that the “special envoy” is Spock when Kirk is sitting there looking at him like this

- Sorry babygirl not taking in any of that information. I am taking in those beautiful eyes tho <3

- Ooooh starting this one off with Kirk and Spock on opposite political sides

- Kirk being the one who has to offer the olive branch probably because Spock thought he could trust him to be on the side of peace (which was a miscalculation cause he’s probably still pretty angry with the whole “you Klingon bastards killed my son” thing…)

- “I remind you this meeting is classified” as everybody splits off into chattering gossip

- Kirk actually getting angry at Spock for “volunteering” them. The giant empty room with Kirk in the shadows and only Spock in the light (plus that random person standing in a dark corner for some reason) augh the mise en scène is wonderful

- I don’t even know how to unpack all that. Kirk so prejudiced against the Klingons (finally taking a more antagonistic stance) and saying “You should have trusted me” WHICH IS WHAT SPOCK HAS ALWAYS DONE. Because he trusted that Kirk would ultimately want peace no matter how battered and broken he became.

- They changed Spock’s ears, made the points more curved into themselves

- Why does every new lieutenant like quoting regulations to Kirk? How many does he just regularly break?

- OH FOR FUCKS SAKE WHY DOES HE LOOK OVER AT SPOCK SO SOFTLY

- I love how shape her hair is (draw it draw it draw it dammnit)

- Whenever creating a Star Trek movie you need someone on the production team who loves the ship departing from space dock scenes

- “I can never forgive them for the death of my boy.” Kirk says my boy

- Okay yes, Valeris should have knocked before entering his room but Kirk should also know to lock his door when he’s talking to his diary

- Why is Valeris so involved in this movie? First she’s talking to Kirk and now we’re following her to Spock’s? Strange (my guess. She’s evil.)

- “It is a reminder to me that all things end.” Like your life. Twice. Also that’s a nice sentiment and all but it’s so sad with the context that even his own original timeline ends

- “Logic is the beginning of wisdom, Valeris, not the end.” YEAHHH OLDER SPOCK he’s got a more balanced view on the world and himself

- OKAY I absolutely adore the costume design, especially for Gorkon. Like the golden clips in the hair? The red suit adorned with studs and the giant silver necklace?? The beard??? Amazing

- I like that there’s a “chief of staff” for the Klingons. It’s like the manager at a party city

- “They all look alike” BRO THEY MOST FUCKINGLY DO NOT

- I love the chief of staff being so confused over what the napkin roll thing is. I feel that.

- Ah yes my favourite meal. Blue. With a side of orange of course.

- “I offer a toast. The Undiscovered Country…” Welp. He said it. Time to wrap up the movie

- YEP ITS SHAKESPEARE BABEYYY (thank you Spock for saying that it’s Hamlet, act III, scene I, cause I didn’t wanna look it up)

- “You’ve not experienced Shakespeare until you have read him in the original Klingon.” Quoi???

- Spock actively trying to stop Kirk from starting a war

- I think this is such a good part where the Klingons are trying to state their worries. The gradual (or not so gradual) need for assimilation to be apart of starfleet. This is a particularly big problem for the Klingons because so much of their culture has been entwined with violence which Starfleet seems almost hellbent to take away. As well as hearing troubling language such as “human rights” thrown in their faces

- IM SORRY. Kirk. You didn’t. You didn’t just compare someone to hitler.

- Spock looks actually so fucking pissed at Kirk

- “If there is to be a brave new world, our generation is going to have the hardest time living in it.” Gorkon dropping all the good lines

- McCoy just standing there adjusting his outfit and looking like the most tired man alive

- “I’m going to sleep this off.” “I’m going to go find a pot of black coffee.” Both Kirk and McCoy leaving Spock :(((

- The shaky swoop of the camera as Kirk and the rest of the bridge realize that somehow they just fired on the Klingon vessel

- Don’t care about the rest of the movie I just love the scene where everything starts floating on the Klingon vessel

- AUGH THOSE SPACE SUITS OKAY I DO STILL CARE

- Love me some good ol’ bad 3D graphics blood

- Times like this I wish I’d never skipped my tlhIngan Hol classes

- Floating dead Klingons. What. A. Scene.

- Aw Fuck Dude. The one guy getting gravity back online and everything falling to the ground and blood splattering and AUGHHH. Every time I think this scene can’t get better, it does!

- HIII MCCOY!!! He got to rush onto the bridge just to ask “are we firing torpedoes” and I appreciate that :)

- Kirk and Spock fighting over who should go to the Klingon ship and Spock saying “perhaps you’re right” and then putting his hand on Kirk’s shoulder made me more nervous than it should have. Darn you Wrath of Khan! You’ve given me trust issues. (but you're telling me this isn't supposed to look like a nerve pinch???)

- Also Kirk ultimately still trying to maintain peace. It’s his knee jerk reaction to this. He’s got what he’s said he’s wanted when incased in his own emotions about loosing his son but he knows it’s not right

- and finally, yay! McCoy gets to go on the mission!

- The actor for the Klingon that greets them is so good at the rage mixing with grief and sadness

- McCoy to the rescue!!

- Either Klingon blood is pink (like in that one game) or they wanted to keep it pg-13

- “He’s gone into some kind of damned arrest!” McCoy proceeds to straddle the Klingon on top of the table so he has leverage to do proper CPR… I have no thoughts on this that I’d like to share

- I do not believe McCoy’s punches would be strong enough to restart a heart. I’m sorry but they look so puny

- The blood bubbling as Gorkon dies is so fucking good oh my heart

- This is all happening at 2:00 fucking AM??? No wonder Kirk is tired

- “I sympathize, Mr. Scott.” Love when they make Spock say he ‘understands’ or ‘sympathizes’

- SAREKKKK!! Hehe hiiii

- “We are experiencing technical malfunction. All backup systems inoperative.” “Excellent. I… I mean, too bad.” A banger scene from Uhura and Chekov

- Rosanna DeSoto as Azetbur (the Chancellor’s daughter) plays the part so well. Again their portrayal of grief and anger while trying to get to peace is so fucking amazing. LOOK AT HER FACE

- Maybe I’m not so happy about McCoy being on this mission after all…

- The giant circular judgement chamber is so fucking cool

- MICHAEL DORN 🫵

- The sparking gavel <3

- I love the beginning of a translator translating all the Klingon’s words

- WORF IS THEIR DEFENDANT???

- That one Klingon that laughs at McCoy’s joke, wanna be friends?

- “You say you are due for retirement. May I ask, do your hands shake?” “Objection!” “I was nervous!” “No. You were incompetent.” This is like watching reality tv for me. That’s some good drama

- phew thank goodness they’re not killing McCoy. He’s too pretty to die

- The back and forth slow zoom in on McCoy & Kirk and the judge didn’t have the intensity they were going for but I appreciate the effort

- “Better to kill them now and get it over with.” That’s nice Scotty

- Oh shit Spock loosing both of his husbands in one sentencing. That cannot be good for the economy

- “An ancestor of mine maintained that if you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains however improbable, must be the truth.” Ancestor? You mean fucking Arthur Conan Doyle?? Or Sherlock??? Either way that’s a hecking lore drop

- They’ve got a murder mystery aboard the Enterprise, this is my dream

- Hey babe, new Klingon dog beast just dropped (Jackal Mastiff)

- I let out an audible “aww” of pity when I saw McCoy wrapped up in a blanket

- I can’t believe I’m only halfway through this movie what is even happening anymore

- Had a brief pause to voice crackedly yell a little bit. Something along the lines of “I do not care. I do not care! I don’t care! I just want Spock- I just want them with Spock! I do not care!” And then let myself breathe for a second or two (and then made chicken nuggets). The outburst was born of a deep sadness from the fact that they can’t just be happy and retired together. Ok, back to the movie.

- Martia just handed Kirk a blunt change my mind

- “Somebody up there wants you out of the way.” of course, it can’t just be about actual politics between the Klingons and Federation, it has to actually be about Kirk and somebody trying to kill him. Dang it.

- “But the killers may still be among them.” …wait a damn minute.. you’re saying there’s imposters- *pulled away forcefully*

- I love how every commanding officer comes into the kitchen absolutely furious that someone fired a phaser

- On that note: why is there a kitchen? And why are they preparing various cooked birds? Who’s having a banquet tonight?

- What kind of bullshit evolution puts a species genitals in their knees?

- Hate how Kirk just lets McCoy go treat the highly dangerous being alone

- “Spock was right” NO SHIT HE’S LITERALLY AN ANCESTOR OF SHERLOCK

- YASSS SULU!!! Now get your rest you beautiful man

- Spock will literally leave no stone unturned for his husbands

- Either Martia has some really good prosthetics in the cave or she’s wearing someone else’s skin… NEVERMIND haha she’s just a shapeshifter

- Chekov was so proud of himself dammit. Too bad he was so utterly wrong

- Also Valeris is so expressive, kinda loving it

- The planet seems kinda nice in the daylight.. minus the dead body I’d say it’s pretty similar to winters in Canada (yes I made the joke, please delete it before posting) (edit: nope <3 just like Canada. Made your bed, lie in it)

- “Leave me. I’m finished.” Goddamn this man’s worst enemy is the cold. Both times McCoy just gives up and tells Spock or Kirk to leave him (First time being in All Our Yesterdays)

- “If they’re even looking for us.” Bones. Spock would literally NEVER leave the both of you. That aside the rest of the Enterprise crew also loves you like crazy

- Everyone laughing on the channel with the Klingons is so funny

- Holyy shit. Is Kirk going to fight.. himself???

- McCoy angel <3

- “I can’t believe I kissed you.” Yeah. Me neither. You didn’t actually have too.

- Poor McCoy holy cannoli oil. He’s knocked out and when he wakes up immediately gets trampled by two versions of his husband

- HIIII JACKAL MASTIFF HIII

- “Since you’re all going to die anyway, why not tell you.” When I go to watch the cinema sins video (I know I’m sorry) on this movie I bet they’ll say “klingonposition” or smt like that here

- If it’s just Chang that wants Kirk dead that’s so disappointing

- McCoy looks over and sees this

- “What you want is irrelevant, what you’ve chosen is at hand.” SPOCK IS ANGRYYYYY SPOCK IS PISSSED

- Please someone let McCoy take a shower, he stinks

- WAIT VALERIS WAS THE ONE SITTING IN THE DARK CORNER OF THE ROOM IN THE BEGINNING

- The distorted wavy angle that almost feels like it’s going side to side dutch angles with each of Spock’s footsteps as he nears Valeris

- I WOULD HAVE SCREAMED IN THEATRES

- Valeris is fucking crying omg what the actual fuck

- I honestly don’t know how to take that apart. I’m still shocked and screaming a little. The reactions from each crew member being just absolutely horrified

- I’m still reeling from that but I gotta acknowledge the fact that Spock says “I prefer it dark” when Kirk enters his quarters. So did I as a teenager and my mom would tell me it was bad for my eyes

- “You and the doctor might have been killed.” “The night is still young.” They are three months from retirement. Goddammnit let them just get to be retired together on a farm or condo or smt. I don’t give a shit just let them rest.

- “Spock, you want to know something? Everybody’s human.” NO THEYRE NOT IN THIS CONTEXT. That was kind of a big point made in this movie. I think the point you’re trying to make is ‘everyone in the whole galaxy forever will always make mistakes.’

- “Doctor, would you care to assist me in performing surgery on a torpedo?”

- Chang just said, “ah the games afoot” why are there so many Sherlock Holmes references in this one? Like I know they have a hard on for famous literature but this one is named after a Shakespeare quote. Just saying it’s a bit crowded.

- They really wanted McCoy to say smt doctory while making the torpedo so they chose “we’ve got a heart beat”

- I think it would’ve been better if Chang said to be or not to be in Klingon like they did at the dinner table

- So they saved the day? Yay? Kirk and McCoy should legally not actually be there- oh they’re all clapping for them who cares

- SPOCK GETS TO SAY GO TO HELL

- Kirk did not just fucking quote Peter Pan. Shut the fuck up.

- McCoy’s look says it all. And by that I mean just let him retire with his husbands. Oh my goodness.

- Just for my mom I'm mentioning the flared pants (Spock and McCoy look kinda goofy tho)

- Ohhh so this is where they change it from “where no man” to “where no one”

- And the Enterprise rides off into the sun. What kind of Grease ending is that?

Awwe okay all of their signatures at the end was a nice touch

I don’t have much more to say here, I forgot how fun but time consuming it was to do these thought posts. I really really appreciate everyone who likes these posts because it means y’all took the time to read this which is just something so meaningful to me.

Thank you all so much <3

Masterpost

#star trek #star trek tos #star trek the undiscovered country #star trek vi: the undiscovered country #the undiscovered country #spock #s'chn t'gai spock #james t kirk #captain james kirk #leonard bones mccoy #doctor mccoy #uhura #nyota uhura #sulu #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #montgomery scott #that’s all folks

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