#before that we all sat and watched like 2 and a half hours worth of abandoned building exploration videos and then some of that endless
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introduced my brother apollo to vaporwave last night (the general first results stuff and then the pools because the pools are so important to me) and he's been zoned in on recreating one of the pool rooms in roblox for about. i think 10ish hours including last night lol :)
#just me hi#before that we all sat and watched like 2 and a half hours worth of abandoned building exploration videos and then some of that endless#pool game. which is really really good i wanna be there so bad. and we sat in near silence for all of it hfsbhvf#/anyway we also watched him recreate a small version of the pools which took maybe 40 minutes because he was tryna figure out#how to fix the water rendering lol - actual hell dude fbsh#cuz on lower graphics the water becomes completely opaque and you can't do shizz about it ! thoughts and prayers with him hfshg#//anyway before that he was also showing me how to use blender because i'd asked and i had a hand in creating probably one of the worst#renditions of jack in the box to ever be realized in this timeline lmaoo#/i gotta download blender again so i'll prolly do that later if i remember#//and anyway it's cool cuz the vibes we enjoy are not related At All lmao :)#//man i've been sitting in silence for too long i think my neurons started reorganizing themselves Hbfshbv#//anyway i'm gonna go see how it's goin :3#he's Really good at 3d stuff it's cool :D#/so Ciao toodles pow ~+!
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Golden
Summary: A Sunday afternoon on your farm with Joel.
WC: 4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Soft, dorky Joel. We pretend Abby and Joel chatted it out. Joel and JJ moments. Breeding ( ? ) kink. Oral sex f! receiving. PinV. Joel doing physical labor…yeah. Can imagine Pedro or game Joel. Reader can paint!
A/N: I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the love, kind words and support on Magnetism! You all melt my heart. Thank you! I’m not so happy with the smut in this but whatever :,)
The Sade record crackles before your favorite song on the album begins drifting through the air. The birthday gift Joel gave you last year that made hot tears fall out of your eyes, just like him when you gave him a painting of Sarah and Ellie for his birthday that hangs in his woodworking space. Your birthday last year ended with 8 hours spent in the sheets, passed out by the end of it, Joel with a sore back for a week - yet claims it was worth it.
You look up at him right now, peering outside the large kitchen windows and spotting him pulling out carrots, in a tight shirt and his work jeans, arms flexing at the particularly stubborn ones. Banjo following along and sniffing inside Joel’s wicker basket filled with vegetables, his tail smacking into Joel’s side. Rosie and Posie bleating in the distance, their fuzzy woolen coats glowing in the sun, seeming to also take an interest in watching Joel work, just like you.
You hear Banjo’s excited barks before Joel closes the dog's mouth shut with his hand playfully, shaking Banjo’s head side to side lightly, riling him up. The sun starts to set behind them, past the fence surrounding your ranch, behind the tall Wyoming mountains. Orange, pink, and yellow, exploding in waves. The bees returning to their hives from the flower box in front of the kitchen windows.
You laugh when Banjo manages to knock Joel over lightly, the two tumbling onto the grass. Joel laughs too, holding the border collie back with his forearm as he tries to lick Joel’s face with all his might.
You smile to yourself as you get back to work, just as Sade starts singing about ‘his hands’ and ‘the way the mountains look’. Lost in the haze of measuring out ingredients, 2 and 3 quarter cups flour, a quarter cup of sugar. Feeling the weight of the ingredients slide into the bowl. Just as you see Joel slowly walk towards the chicken coup, Banjo waiting in the grass - knowing he’s not allowed there.
Milk and salt are next, and you drift over to the fridge to grab the milk, your long white skirt, embraced with abstract flowery patterns flows against your bare ankles as your toes feel the comforting wooden floors of your warm farm home that Joel made sure to install after you mindlessly talked about your love for warm wooden accents. Sat a 20-minute walk outside the walls of Jackson, a small distance away from Ellie’s farm, closer to the lush woods atop the hills.
As you settle back by the kitchen counter, lit up by warm - almost honey-colored rays of sunlight, you try to spot Joel amongst the chickens, but he seems to have vanished, Banjo too.
You glance around surprised for a moment, your eyes flitting from the coup to the vegetable patches, to the flower beds he planted for you, the fairy garden that he denies he took part in yet carved all of the little toadstool homes for you, and Ellie to paint, and even to Old Beardy grazing in the distance, yet Joel is nowhere to be found.
You even turn to the back door, yet there’s no sign of your man. How can a big teddy bear like him disappear in less than a minute?
You jump and let out an embarrassing squeak as a sudden flash of salt and pepper pops up right on the other side of the window pane. You clutch a hand over your chest as Joel’s face comes into view, his cheeky smile and scruffy beard. Utterly pleased with himself at his success in startling you.
You glare at him half-heartedly, trying to hide the smile that’s inching up your face.
He reaches into one of the large pockets in his jeans, and your attempt at hiding your smile fails when he pulls out a little yellow chick. He lifts it to your view, the little fluff ball wiggling and chirping, looking tiny in Joel’s large, dirty palms. His smile grows wider and tender as he sees you beam at the sight through the window.
He scratches the chick’s head with one of his fingers before walking back to reunite the yellow baby with its mama.
You laugh to yourself at his antics. At a grown, grizzly man, surprising you with a baby chicken. He’s a dork and doesn’t deny the allegations when they’re thrown his way.
Banjo runs circles around the vegetable garden just as the back door opens, closing softly with a click. Joel’s heavy footfall, accentuated by his boots, sounds behind you, getting softer as he heads to the guest bathroom. The house creaks and groans as the water turns on. You’re back to baking.
“Smells real good.”
He hums, his, now soft, footfall appearing once again as he approaches from behind you, burying his face in your neck and sniffling dramatically, you feel his wet beard and hair drip onto your neck, giving you goosies. He’s splashed his face and washed his hands, probably so he can distract you without your scolding.
“Me or the food, old man?” You ask with a smile, continuing to knead the dough.
“‘Mm, both.” He hums, rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat. You suspect he might start purring soon. It’s not unlike him, even though he ignores you when you tell him that he basically purrs while snuggling against your chest as you read whatever novel you two have picked aloud to him in the evenings.
“Cinnamon rolls, bread’s in the often.” You hum, tilting your head to the side so he can keep giving you his beard scratches. He starts nibbling too now. You sway your hips slightly to the music, and the way his hands fall to your hips tells you all you need to know.
“Cinnamon rolls.” He repeats amused, smiling against your skin, nibbling again to make you tut at him, grinning when you do.
“Ellie and Dina are comin’ over later.” You say as you grab the jar of cinnamon on the shelf, leaving Joel to step back and watch.
“They bringin’ JJ?” Joel asks, voice loosing his husky tiredness and instead replaced with a lighter sound.
“Yes baby, they’re bringing JJ.” You say with a soft smile, looking back at him only to find he’s disappeared once more. That man is silent as a mouse usually - a habit you suppose. Although, whenever he walks into the house, he does three stomps of his boots - just to make sure you know it’s him. He may have gone soft, but there are some things time will never strip away entirely. His knack for safety is one of them.
Just as you’re finished adding all the wet ingredients to your dry ones, you hear Joel in the living room lowering a box, a few things spilling out. An obnoxious squeak of a toy - you think it’s banjo’s plastic chicken that Joel hid away after the noise drove Joel so insane he accidentally beheaded a cowboy carving he was working on for a month. You catch Banjo’s head shoot up as if he got a sense that his long-lost soulmate is near. Joel hides the chicken away again quickly.
He’s brought out the small bundle of toys you two own - JJ’s toy box - Joel calls it, even made one of those shape sorters and toy soldiers for the little boy to play with, and asked you to paint them when he was done, as he does most of his carvings.
This is the one thing Joel doesn’t try to hide his excitement about. Whenever he sees JJ, or ‘potato’ as Ellie calls him, they might as well be the only people in the world. You think it’s the sweetest thing, makes you want to beg him to have a potato of your own, your body going into overdrive imagining how he’d look at your child while putting them to sleep, how he’d kiss their forehead softly.
Joel begins to organize the toys, placing the few dinosaurs, soldiers, and stuffed animals in a battle scene. The soldiers are apparently no match for the fluffy bear, as he’s flung them around in defeat.
Never did you think you’d see the day that Joel Miller would organize a battle scene between stuffed animals and wooden soldiers, just to see JJ’s face light up in excitement - like the little boy's face doesn’t already do that when he just sees Joel as the front door opens.
You manage to pull your eyes away and start folding your dough. Smiling to yourself at your sweet sweet man. Your stomach swoops the more you think, kneading the dough mindlessly as you’re painfully reminded how badly you want it. How badly you want him to pump you full, make you swell. You don’t even notice how your eyes have gone hazy, kneading the dough harder and harder until you jump at Joel’s big hands cupping your wrists from behind, pulling them upwards slightly to relax them. His beard tickles the fly always at the back of your neck as he kisses the soft skin there.
“What’s got my lady all worked up, hm?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing down the side and inhaling, almost like he wants to brand himself with you.
“You.” You whisper shakily, squeezing the dough slightly like an anchor. You feel his cheeky, boyish smile against your skin, only for a moment before he replaces that smirk with a nibble.
“Me?” He asked softly, planting his chin over your shoulder to watch as you ‘work’, definitely not to watch the way his calloused hands cup over your tits. The dough between your palms is the only thing keeping you stable right now.
“Yes, you.” It’s a breathy whisper, and although he doesn’t see it - Joel already knows your eyes are drooping when you tip your head back slightly, able to breathe in that perfect scent of him after he’s spent the day working in the sun. The musk that is uniquely Joel, that screams man man man.
“Don’t know what you mean, honey bee.” He hums, his mouth ghosting over your earlobe just as his thumbs circle over where your nipples are unfortunately hidden away from him. He knows exactly what you mean.
“Why don’t you head South and find out then, cowboy?” You tease, expecting a playful slap and pinch of your ass before he wanders off to the shower, but instead, you find his hands, then his whole self sliding down down down until his knees plant themselves on the floor.
“Gonna let me spoil my desert?” He hums, his hands sliding slowly up from your ankles, bringing your skirt with them, until he can see the little cotton-lace panties that are hidden underneath. He bites the soft swell of your right asscheek that the cotton doesn’t cover.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip softly as you arch your back slightly, leaning your weight on the dough, squeezing harder as the soft caress of your thighs leaves you dripping - more so than before.
“You know I’d let you do anything.” You whisper to him, and it’s all he needs before you feel his calloused fingers on your lower back, sinking into your underwear before dragging them down, burying his head under your skirt.
He throws your panties somewhere, with a proper flick of his wrist. You can see them land somewhere in your periphery, the white lace discarded, very Joel-like in the most crude matter possible.
“Joel!-“ you begin to exclaim before his warm tongue parts your slick folds with an obscene sound. Slurping up the wetness he’s found as his calloused hands grip the front of your thighs. Squeezing tightly like it’ll let him get his tongue deeper into your pussy.
You almost want to laugh at what it must look like: his head buried under your long white skirt, like a ghost he probably dressed up as for Halloween. But fortunately for him, you can’t laugh when his mouth has sealed around the hood of your clit, when it’s hot hot hot and wet.
“Oh, Joel-” you moan in a breathless gasp, your head falling back and then forward as his tongue licks the underside of your clit, making you squeeze the poor dough for it’s life.
He groans into your pussy, tongue leaving your clit to lick side to side, sliding down your cunt until it’s breaching your drenched hole. His hands grip your ass-cheeks tightly, eating at you like it’s his last meal.
He pushes two of those thick fingers inside you, instantly curling forward so deliciously you think you might die. You lose your voice, moaning hoarsely as you clench around the intrusion. He starts moving his hand faster, paired with the suckling of his hot mouth on your clit, you’re not going to last much longer.
“Give it t’me baby- let me have it.” He whispers against you, and it’s his words that do it, as well as that final crook of his fingers that hit you right where you need him. You’re cumming with an intensity only he can give you. He slurps up all the wetness he can until you’re whining at him that it's ‘too much, too much’ and he stands. Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply. Guiding his tongue into your mouth just as he had done your pussy.
“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, and your chest blooms, blinking up at him as he looks into your eyes with a calm tenderness like you’re exactly what he always dreamed of - like he lay awake at night as a little boy getting giddy at the thought that one day you might be real, and now you are, more importantly: you’re his, and he’s yours.
“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing him once more before he’s once again lifting your hands from the dough, which now looks positively mixed from your absent-minded squeezing.
“‘M gonna go shower, baby.” He says softly, stepping back from you just as you turn to look at him.
“You’re gonna deny a woman her fun?” You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, looking down as he re-adjusts his jeans. His hands glancing at your ass before smirking at something you don’t see yet.
“You’ll get your fun later, baby.” He says with an amused smile, before he’s turning and heading upstairs. You sigh and look around the kitchen, laughing brightly as you see your panties dangling on the hook by the back door, how he flung them so far, you’ll never know.
There’s a knock at the door at 5pm sharp, and Joel bounds down the stairs before walking to the door, the creak of it sweet before the sounds of ‘hello!’ and ‘how’s it going, old man?’ ring through the house. You move away from the kitchen to great Dina and Ellie as they walk in, JJ already cooing excitedly in Joel’s arms as he hugs Dina, then Ellie from the side. Smiling widely at the little boy.
“Hey Els, Dina.” You say softly as Ellie gives you a tight squeeze, her mullet brushed neatly, most likely done by Dina. The Ellie you know would let her hair stick in every direction like the wild child she is and always will be.
“Smells good.” Ellie says softly, a hand on the small of Dina’s back before she’s walking to the kitchen to inspect what you’ve made. You see Ollie - JJ’s favorite toy elephant that Ellie won in the Jackson Fair at 19 - hanging out of her back pocket. You smile at the similarities between Joel and Ellie, clear that he raised her in subtle ways. The most obvious being her recent taking for boots, jeans and flannels. She goes over to Joel and JJ after that, crouching behind Joel who’s sat on the carpet by his battle scene, giving him a bear hug from behind.
The afternoon is spent chatting away with Dina, Ellie occasionally chiming in, yet all three of you mainly watch Joel and JJ playing on the living room rug. Your home is filled with the delighted laughter of a child. Ellie joins in soon too, taking on the role of the toy dinosaurs which makes JJ shriek with laughter as they attack Joel’s stuffed bear, then Joel himself.
Everything is warm.
You all eat together. Roasted Venison with salad and bread, cinnamon rolls later that JJ tries to devour whole while sitting on Joel’s lap - similarly to Ellie who sneaks an extra two with Joel in the kitchen when they think their respective partners aren’t looking.
They stay in the small cottage outside which Joel made sure was perfect before their arrival. JJ and Dina fast asleep as you, Ellie and Joel find place on the couch watching some cheesy action movie that Ellie picked. Just like old times when she was a young teenager. She still leans against Joel’s shoulder all the same. Both of his girls in his arms as lights flash across the screen. You glance up at his face once, and smile when seeing he looks as happy as can be.
He deserves this, he deserves to be happy. Even if he might not believe it, you do, and you’ll let hell freeze over before you stop trying to make him happy.
Ellie bids you goodnight before going to curl up in bed with Dina and JJ. Similarly to the way Joel follows up the stairs behind you as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Smirking at the twinkle in his eye you see as you pull out his favorite night dress of yours
You’ve just finished up in the bathroom when you walk back into your shared bedroom. Joel shucking off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. You admire his broad back in the low light of the bedroom. The shadows dusting along his muscles like rivers.
You float up behind him this time, your nose pressed to the line down his back, hands wrapped around his stomach.
“I want one.” You whisper into the quiet night, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. He turns to face you - you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Want what, darlin’?” He whispers softly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek as he breaths softly. You can hear his heart beating, in sync with yours.
“A baby.” You whisper, and it’s so silent, so quiet. His eyes glimmer and brighten, his breath bated as he looks down at you.
“You want that with me, sweet girl?” He whispers, his voice suddenly hoarse and thick.
“More than anything.”
He kisses you deeply, his hand burying at the hair on the back of your head. Cupping the bowl of your skull so tenderly you can feel his love for you pulse through your veins. Your arms wrap rest on his broad shoulders.
“Me too, baby. Me too.” He whispers, and emotion wraps around your throat, as you can tell it does his when you see the shine in his sweet eyes.
You fall to the bed together, his boxers discarded as he makes quick work of your night gown. Kissing along your breasts until you’re driven so positively crazy you need him to soothe it with his mouth.
Your hand wraps around his shaft and you gaze into his eyes as they flutter slightly at the sensation of your fingers, his own meet you there, guiding him inside you until you both gasp softly at the sensation. He lets his hips push in all the way moments after. Your walls grip around him, the thick, hot - length of him, pushing its way through you until he fits into the space he’s made for himself within you. The noise of your wetness clenching around his girth as he holds himself over you on his strong forearms is nothing short of one of Joel’s favorite erotic sound.
“I love you, I love you so damn much.” He whispers, his large - paw like hand cupping your skull as he grinds his pelvis against your pulsing clit, listening to the soft shk shk shk as his cock twitches inside you, pushing up against that spot inside you that turns you stupid.
“I love you too.” You whimper, barely able to think past the way your eyes are rolling. He hasn’t even thrusted yet. You don’t catch the way he’s gazing down at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like you own every part of his heart and soul, like you might as well be living and breathing within his ribcage : as if you’re the sole thing causing that glow he seems to have.
He starts moving, slow, deep slaps of his hips against yours. Holding you against him as you arch your back slightly, making sure he digs against that spot that drives you wild.
Your fingers dig red lines down his broad back. His head falling forward as he groans so deep and roughly you think you might die from being overly aroused. This man does things to you that you can’t even explain with words, your cries of pleasure seem to communicate it well enough though. Everything is hot and wet and sticky as he whispers into your ear.
“You’re gon’ be such a good mama- fuck darlin’ - take it, yeah-“ he groans into your ear, and your whole body shivers. You clench tighter around him, making him gasp slightly as his hand finds your clit. “Got me achin’ f’you all day baby-“ he whines - whines - into your ear, the soft skin of his balls drags against the curve of your ass, just like his tip dragging through your walls, taking you higher and higher until you can’t even hear the noises you’re making.
He rubs your clit harder, round and round on that pulsing nub until you open your eyes and see his disheveled face. Skin flushed, hair a mess, and his gaze fluttering as he moves his hips against you- his big strong body shining with sweat.
You’re done for.
You dig your heel into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling him closer and locking your legs around him, trapping him deep inside of you.
“Please cum inside me-“ you whimper, gazing into his eyes as he fights with all his might to make sure you cum first, his hand doesn’t let up on your clit, and you clench. “Please let me have it-“
His groan breaks into a soft whine as he drops onto his forearms, face right in front of yours, his nose bumping into your own. You can feel his harsh breaths against your swollen lips.
When you feel him start to fill you up on a slamming thrust, you cum with him, clenching tighter every time you feel one of his thick, sticky ropes shoot inside you while his cock twitches wildly inside you - his moans even sweeter than the sensation.
“Oh god, I love you-“ he whimpers, his moan cracking as you push him impossibly closer with your heel, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head for dear life. He kisses you messily, tiredly as you both lie there - sweaty and catching your breaths.
“I love you.” You whisper back to him, your hand running through his messy hair as you litter kisses along his damp forehead. He nuzzles into you like a big bear still inside you as he softens.
“You need somethin’?” He asks once he’s found his thoughts again, sitting up slightly before you pull him back down with an ‘oof ’.
“Just you.” You whisper back sleepily, your eyes closing shut as you bask in the feeling and love he gives you. You feel a soft kiss to your jaw. His hand splaying over your tummy.
“You got me, baby. Always.”
A/N: Thank you so much for reading ! ♡ please lmk if you enjoyed it and reblog if you did ◡̈
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#the last of us part one#joel tlou
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only ever you. - pedro pascal.
requested! thank you so much for sending. (i'm sorry for taking a little longer than usual to post!)
----
You hadn’t meant to see it.
His phone had lit up on the kitchen counter at 2:13 a.m., vibrating with a soft buzz that broke the silence of the dark apartment. The name wasn’t familiar — Julia. And underneath, the preview: “You didn’t have to be so sweet last night.”
Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t even realize you’d picked the phone up until you were staring at the message, hands trembling. The notification disappeared before you could open it, and the screen went dark again, leaving your reflection staring back at you.
You didn’t sleep after that.
Pedro stirred beside you hours later, pressing a lazy kiss to your bare shoulder like he always did. Like everything was normal. Like your heart wasn’t collapsing in slow motion.
You went through the motions of the morning. Coffee. His hand brushing yours when he passed the sugar. A soft “love you” before he left for the gym. And you nodded. You smiled, maybe. You weren’t sure. You just knew that as soon as the door closed, you sat down on the floor and tried to breathe.
You didn’t say anything for two full days. You weren’t ready.
You watched him like you were outside your own body — how he lit up when he talked about the project he was filming, how he still kissed the top of your head when he walked past the couch. You hated how badly you wanted to believe nothing had happened.
But the message replayed in your mind every time he smiled at you. So sweet last night. What the hell did that mean?
You finally broke after dinner on the third night. You were supposed to watch a movie together. Pedro had just pressed play, remote still in his hand, when you said, "Who’s Julia?"
His head turned slowly. Confused. “What?”
You hated the way your voice cracked. “Julia. She texted you. Said you were sweet. Last night.”
His whole body stilled. Remote forgotten. His brows furrowed in a way that was almost… hurt?
“Wait—what? What are you talking about?”
You hated that he looked genuinely confused. It made your stomach churn worse.
“I saw the message. I wasn’t trying to snoop, Pedro, I swear, it just—your phone lit up. I—” You ran a hand through your hair. “I just need to know. Please.”
Silence. Long and heavy.
He stood slowly, crossing to you. His voice was calm. Too calm. “Mi amor, you think I—?” He stopped himself, jaw clenching. “I would never. You know I would never.”
“Then explain it.”
“She’s part of the cast. We had a wrap dinner last week, and she had a panic attack when the paparazzi swarmed her outside the restaurant. Everyone else was too busy acting like it was normal. I offered to call her a car, waited with her until it came. That’s it.”
Your throat tightened. “That’s all it was?”
His eyes were glassy now. “You think I’d touch another woman when I have you?” He lean closer. “When I wake up every day thinking how lucky I am that you even look at me?”
You bit your lip, trying to keep it together. “It just felt real. The message. The way she said it—like there was more.”
He reached out, hesitant, then cupped your cheek gently. “I’m an actor. I know how things can look. But I’m also a man in love, and I don’t half-ass that. I don’t play games with your heart.”
You exhaled shakily. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered. Not because I wanted to hide anything, but because I didn’t see it as anything worth remembering. She was scared, I was nice. That’s it. You’re the only one I come home to. The only one I want.”
Your tears fell silently. He wiped them away with his thumbs, kissing your forehead, then your temple.
“I’m so sorry you felt like you had to carry that alone,” he whispered. “Next time, please just ask me. I don’t ever want to see you hurting because of something I could’ve cleared up.”
You leaned into his touch. Let yourself believe him — not because you were desperate, but because he meant it. You knew his heart. And it was yours.
“Okay,” you whispered. “I believe you.”
He kissed you then, slow and full of emotion, like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into your lips. You melted into him, arms wrapping tight around his neck, grounding yourself in the safety of his presence.
Maybe love wasn’t always easy. But with Pedro, even the pain had purpose — and the ending was always soft.
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfics#pedro pascal blurb#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal fics#pp#ficreq#fanfics
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Can you do Legoshi from Beastars with an extremely pessimistic, cynical, introverted, and antisocial fem! black cat reader of very few words who he meets when she's scouted as the new head writer since the President of the Drama was extremely impressed by her near-perfect grades?
Shadows and Stars

Characters:
1. Legoshi: A shy, introspective gray wolf in the drama club, empathetic but socially awkward.
2. Black Cat (Head Writer): A reserved, sharp-tongued new member with a guarded yet intense demeanor.
3. Louis: The confident, demanding red deer president of the drama club.
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Trigger Warnings:
1. Social Anxiety: Depictions of awkward and tense interactions. 2. Loneliness: Themes of isolation and guarded behavior. 3. Stress: Characters under creative and interpersonal pressure. 4. Emotional Tension: Subtle, intense dynamics between characters.
Masterlist
Words: 1535
--- The morning light trickled through the half-open windows of the drama clubroom. Legoshi shifted uncomfortably as he adjusted a prop tree, his mind preoccupied with a myriad of thoughts. The sudden announcement from Louis the previous week had taken everyone by surprise—a new head writer had been chosen.
She had arrived earlier that day, slipping into the room with all the presence of a shadow. Legoshi watched her from the corner of his eye as she sat, barely speaking, her sharp gaze fixed on the scattered scripts before her. A black cat with an air of indifference, she radiated a quiet intensity that made even the most confident club members uneasy.
“Her grades are unmatched,” Louis had explained with his usual brisk tone. “She’s exactly what we need to elevate this production.”
Legoshi’s tail flicked nervously as he approached her.
“Uh... hi. I’m Legoshi,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.
The cat glanced up briefly, her green eyes narrowing slightly before she returned to her work. “Okay.”
It wasn’t rude, but it wasn’t warm either. It was… curt, like she had decided he wasn’t worth more than a single syllable. He shifted awkwardly.
“So… um, you’re the new writer?” he tried again, his ears twitching as the silence stretched uncomfortably.
“Yes.”
Another sharp, clipped answer. Legoshi’s tail drooped. He wasn’t good at conversations on the best of days, but this was like trying to talk to a brick wall. Still, there was something about her that intrigued him—something about the way she seemed to carry a world of thoughts behind those short answers.
“Is there… anything you need help with?” he asked, trying to be helpful.
The cat finally put down her pen and looked at him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was calm and measured. “No. I’m used to doing things myself.”
Legoshi nodded, unsure if that was a dismissal. “Okay… I’ll just, uh, be over here then.”
She didn’t reply, her attention already back on the papers in front of her. He slunk back to his corner, silently berating himself for his awkwardness. But as the hours passed, he couldn’t help but watch her work.
Her movements were precise, her focus unyielding. She scribbled notes in the margins of the script, her handwriting neat and deliberate. Occasionally, she would pause to glance around the room, her sharp eyes missing nothing.
It was Louis who finally broke the ice—if only unintentionally.
“Legoshi, stop lurking and make yourself useful!” the deer snapped, gesturing toward the new head writer. “She needs the last script drafts from the archives. Take her.”
Legoshi’s ears flattened, but he obeyed. He shuffled over to her, mumbling, “Uh, we need to get the drafts. I can show you where they are.”
She stood without a word, gathering her things before following him.
The walk to the archives was silent. Legoshi felt like he should say something, but every time he glanced at her, she seemed lost in thought, her expression unreadable.
When they reached the dusty shelves of the archives, she finally broke the silence.
“This must be exhausting for you,” she said, her voice low but unexpectedly soft.
Legoshi blinked. “What do you mean?”
“All this social interaction,” she replied, glancing at him sideways. “It seems... draining.”
He hesitated. “It can be,” he admitted, “but I like helping people.”
She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as though she understood. They worked in silence for a while, sorting through the papers.
“You’re... different,” she said suddenly, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.
“Different how?”
She didn’t answer right away, her eyes focused on the script in her hands. Finally, she murmured, “Most people talk too much.”
Legoshi chuckled softly, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. “I guess I’m not most people then.”
For the first time, her lips twitched, almost forming a smile. It was brief, but it was there.
Maybe, Legoshi thought, as they continued to work together, she wasn’t as unreachable as she seemed.
---
The warm glow of the afternoon sun cast soft streaks across the dusty floorboards of the drama club’s archive room. Legoshi’s ears twitched nervously as he glanced at the black cat beside him. She was leaning against one of the towering shelves, her sleek frame almost melding into the shadows, her sharp green eyes scanning the scripts she had pulled from the stacks.
The air felt heavy. Legoshi shuffled his feet, his large claws scraping lightly against the floor. He wanted to speak, to break the suffocating silence, but her rigid posture and piercing gaze kept him rooted in place.
“Legoshi,” she said suddenly, her voice low and deliberate.
He flinched, startled. “Y-Yes?”
“You’re breathing too loud.” She didn’t look up, her tail swishing once before curling tightly around her.
“Oh. S-Sorry.��� He ducked his head, his ears flattening as he tried to stifle the deep, instinctive breaths his body demanded.
For a moment, she said nothing, her expression blank as her eyes flicked between the pages of the script. Then, with a sigh, she set the stack down and turned to him fully, her hands resting loosely in her pockets.
“You’re... not what I expected,” she murmured, her tone unreadable.
Legoshi blinked, his tail curling awkwardly behind him. “What do you mean?”
“Most people are loud. Obnoxious.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze narrowing as she studied him. “You’re... quiet. And you don’t stare.”
Legoshi rubbed the back of his neck, his claws grazing the fur there. “I-I mean, it’s rude to stare. And I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable…” His voice trailed off, his body hunching slightly under her scrutiny.
Her lips twitched—a movement so subtle it might have been missed entirely. “Not bad,” she muttered, almost to herself.
“Uh… thanks?” Legoshi offered hesitantly, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
She turned back to the scripts, her movements fluid and deliberate. The air between them settled into a tense quiet, though it felt less sharp than before.
---
Later, back in the drama clubroom, Louis was barking orders at the cast, his voice sharp and commanding as he directed a rehearsal. Legoshi lingered near the edge of the room, holding a box of props. His eyes darted to the black cat, who had returned to her corner with the same detached grace, her pen scratching lightly against the pages of her notebook.
Legoshi couldn’t help but watch her, his large, gray ears twitching slightly. There was something captivating about her—how still she was, like a predator lying in wait. She wrote with an intensity that made the rest of the bustling room feel irrelevant.
A loud clatter jolted him from his thoughts.
“Legoshi!” Louis barked, his sharp amber eyes boring into him. “Stop staring and do something useful.”
“S-Sorry!” Legoshi stammered, his claws fumbling with the box as he scrambled to set it down. His tail curled tightly around his leg as he ducked his head, trying to make himself smaller.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the black cat glance up, her green eyes briefly flicking to Louis before returning to her work.
---
Later that day, as the club emptied out, Legoshi found himself walking beside her again. She didn’t speak, her footsteps soft and deliberate against the pavement.
“I, uh, hope today wasn’t too stressful,” Legoshi offered, his voice barely above a murmur.
She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Why do you care?”
Legoshi hesitated, his shoulders hunching as he struggled to find the right words. “I… I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”
Her ears flicked back, and she looked away. “I’m used to stress. It’s not a big deal.”
He nodded slowly, his claws tapping lightly against his thighs as they walked. “I guess… but you don’t have to handle everything alone. Sometimes it’s okay to let people help.”
She stopped suddenly, turning to face him. Her gaze was sharp, her tail flicking behind her. “Why? Why does it matter to you?”
Legoshi froze, his ears flattening as he struggled under her intense stare. “B-Because…” He swallowed, his large hands fidgeting nervously. “I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t fit in. And… I think it’s nice to have someone who understands.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the smallest crack in her composed demeanor. But just as quickly, she looked away, her shoulders tensing.
“I don’t need anyone to understand,” she said flatly, though her voice was quieter than before.
Legoshi tilted his head, his tail swishing gently behind him. “Maybe not,” he said softly, “but it’s okay if you do.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The fading light of the evening painted the campus in warm hues, and the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words.
Finally, she sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re strange, Legoshi.”
He blinked. “I-I am?”
“Yes,” she said simply, her lips twitching again in that almost-smile. “But it’s not the worst thing.”
Legoshi couldn’t stop the small wag of his tail as he followed her back to the dorms, the faintest hint of hope blooming in his chest.
Maybe, he thought, some connections didn’t need words—they just needed time.
---
#fanfic#oc#fluff#fanfiction#beastars x you#beastars x reader#beastars#beastars legoshi#legoshi x you#legoshi x reader#legoshi beastars#Anime#anime x reader#Beastars x reader#Wolf x cat#Black cat#Louis#beastars louis#request open#send requests#requests open
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GET HER BACK! || PAIGE BUECKERS



summary — after a week, nika invites you to go out with the team, giving paige an opportunity to make ammends
pairings: paige bueckers x fem cheerleader!reader
word count: 822
warnings: none
authors note: hii heres part 2 of casual!! i was gonna use ivy by frank ocean for this butttt i wanna save that for a more gut wrenching fic maybe series 🤓 ENJOY!!
part 1
It was a week since the events that had happened with Paige and you guys haven’t talked since.
Paige did try to reach out the next day, calling you multiple times but you refused to answer.
It was currently three in the afternoon. Your team had half of the court to use for practice while the other half belonged to the women’s basketball team.
“Alright, let’s run it one more time!” Your coach yelled as you all got into position.
The whole routine, you could feel Paige’s eyes on you. Her eyes scanned your body, watching your every move.
“Alright girls, let’s take five then get back into it right away!” Your coach clapped as everyone scattered towards the bleachers, trying to take advantage of the break.
You sat on the bleachers, trying to catch your breath before sipping your water.
“Hey girl!” Nika greeted as the whole team walked up to you. Including Paige.
You smiled warmly at her. “Hi! How’s practice?”
“You know coach, always up in our ass during the season.” You both chuckled. “You were great out there! Right Paige?” She nudged her shoulder forcefully.
“Yeah. You were amazing.”
You smiled awkwardly. “Thanks.”
KK cleared her throat. “We were wondering if you wanted to go out with us tonight?”
You hesitated. “I don’t know-“
“Come on!” Aaliyah butt in. “We miss you.” The rest of the team agreed behind her.
You sighed, giving in. “Alright. Just send me the details later.”
“I was also wondering if we could talk?” Paige whispered as her teammates cheered and conversed on their own, the two of you going unnoticed by the others.
“Paige, I don’t think-“ You were cut off by the sound of your coach’s whistle.
“Did I say five hours?! Wrap it up and let’s run it again!”
—
“Hey Y/N!” Nika greeted you, giving you a warm hug. You could tell she was already tipsy.
“Hi Nika.” You giggled, making eye contact with Paige as you returned the hug. You could see her jaw clench once her teammate started to rub your back.
You were going to have a lot of fun with this.
You sat next to Nika, grateful she got the imaginary memo as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder.
“Y/N!” Azzi spoke up. “You guys have nationals in a few weeks don’t you?”
You nod eagerly. “Coach has been pushing us a lot lately, we might have to be sharing the court a lot more for the next few weeks.”
“That’s fine with me!” Nika smirked. “I get to see you a lot more then.” She pulled you closer with her arm.
“Nika, you are so drunk.” You giggled, playing with her hair in hopes that Paige would notice the two of you.
The blonde wasn’t having it. She stood up and stomped towards the two of you.
“Y/N, can we talk?” She clenched her jaw.
“Uh-“ You faced Nika who motioned for you to go. “Yeah whatever.”
You stood up, following Paige to the exit, smirking to yourself.
Paige turned to face you. “Since when were you and Nika a thing?”
You scoffed. “Is that all you have to say to me?”
“No! I just-“ She groaned. “Nevermind. I wanted to apologize for everything I said that night. I didn’t mean any of it.”
You stayed silent for a few seconds. “Was that really what I meant to you? Just having fun-?”
“No!” She put her head in her hands. “This past week has been hell for me. I missed you so bad and I didn’t even realize the effect you had on me until all my friends pointed it out.”
“But-“
“Let me finish. You can say anything you want if your opinion stays the same.” She runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. “You actually cared about me, about my feelings. You were there for me when no one else was! You made me laugh and feel like I was actually worth something. And all I did, was make you feel like you were taken advantage of, and I am so fucking sorry. There’s no one else for me Y/N. Just you.”
You were in shock. You couldn’t process the words that just came out of her mouth. “Paige, I- I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything.” She took a step back. “You can take all the time you need. I’ll still be here waiting-“
You cut her off by wrapping your arms around her neck and kissing her with all your emotions.
You could feel her grin as she kissed you back, pulling you closer as she wrapped her arms around your waist.
“Be my girlfriend?” She grinned.”
“I gotta think about it.” You teased, furrowing your brows to make it look like you were thinking.
Paige rolled her eyes. “What a tease.”
“Should we go back inside?” You asked once you both pulled away.
“We can go to my dorm. I think I might kill Nika if she puts her hands on you one more time.”
“You were jealous!”
“No I wasn’t!”
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige buckets#uconn huskies#uconn wbb#uconn x reader#uconn women’s basketball#uconn wcbb#wcbb#wcbb x reader#wnba x reader#wnba#wlw
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Isn't that sweet, I guess so
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut
A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people
warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other
Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)
And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.
You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.
As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.
Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.
The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.
"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"
"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.
A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.
Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.
"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"
"You talk a lot, don't you?"
You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.
"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.
"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"
Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.
"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."
You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"
Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.
"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.
You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.
Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.
"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"
"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"
Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."
You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."
"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."
You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."
Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"
At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"
You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.
"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"
He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?
Oh, absolutely not.
With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.
"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.
"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.
All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.
You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.
Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."
He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.
As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.
Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.
Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"
You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.
#what am i doing#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x female reader#stranger things fanfic#fluff
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𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛t 💋

Roomates (Quarterback) Abby x Fem!Reader (who is an early 2000's y2k baddie)
Chapter 1 - I really hate you
Chapter 2 - Whatever I do, it's always wrong
Chapter 3 - You can shove it
Chapter 4 - That girl just drives me insane
Chapter 5 - Better leave the beret here
Chapter 6 - She´s pretty
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Chapter 4 - That girl just drives me insane
contains: roommates; modern AU!; maybe some grammar mistakes, english is not my first language; slowburn?? (that wasn't planned but hey why not); a gala??; abby being a bit mean
word count: 2,8k
Flashback: The Last Two Weeks
The fragile truce that had formed between you that night lasted about twelve hours. Maybe fourteen, if you’re feeling generous. The next morning, Abby accidentally stepped into one of your handbags on her way to the bathroom, a bag you'd pretty carelessly left lying around a few days earlier. She muttered something annoyed like, “This room’s more of a minefield than a dorm,” while trying to shake the bag off her foot.
“Hey!” you complained from your bed, still half-asleep. “That’s my new designer purse, could you maybe watch where you’re going?”
Propped up on your elbows, you shot daggers at her back with your eyes.
“Then don’t leave your crap lying around,” Abby shot back, before disappearing into the bathroom without another word.
You dropped back into the pillows, already annoyed.
So yeah, everything was back to how it was before. Except not really. It hurt more now.
Her annoyed looks, her snappy tone, the way she crossed her arms when she didn't agree with you, somehow, it all hit harder.
Maybe because you'd hoped something would be different after that night. Maybe because she'd said things that had actually touched something in you. You’d felt like, for a moment, she actually saw you, like, really saw you. Not the version you put on, not the act you play.
But now it was all back again. Her biting comments, your sharp replies, and both your egos clashing like clockwork. Only now, it was harder to pretend that you just straight-up couldn’t stand her.
Because Abby had shown you a side of herself that night, something real. Something honest. She’d said things that made her seem... almost vulnerable. Since that apology, she no longer fit so neatly into the little box you’d shoved her into, the one labeled insufferable, cold, emotionally stunted know-it-all.
Your little black-and-white war suddenly had shades of grey. And you had no idea what to do with them.
Every snarky comment, every passive-aggressive jab, suddenly carried this new kind of tension. It sat somewhere deep inside you, buzzing painfully under the surface.
For whatever reason, you couldn’t pretend you didn’t care anymore.
The two weeks following the party night were... rocky.
You and Abby spoke about as little as before, and when you did, it was mostly eye-rolls, arguments over the disaster that was your shared room, and the occasional sarcastic exchange. Nothing worth writing home about.
Somewhere between the unresolved tension with Abby and the usual uni chaos, there was also Dina.
Dina, who’d only been your best friend since the start of the semester, but who had already climbed alarmingly high on your priority list with that golden heart of hers. And she knew it.
A few days after the party, she started cornering you daily with her painfully effective combo of charm, humor, and pure persistence, trying to rope you into some student council project.
“I’m not even on your stupid council,” you’d argued.
“That’s completely irrelevant,” she’d laughed. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Ask Ellie,” you’d tried to weasel your way out.
“She already said yes. Didn’t even put up a fight like you,” Dina had snapped right back while you groaned in defeat.
You held out for about a week, saying no every time. But she didn’t let up.
“Extra credit, hon,” she finally promised. “And you need it.”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong. Your academic performance was... well, it existed. Barely. Your motto had always been bare minimum gets the job done, but you were starting to realize that motto wasn’t gonna get you anywhere career-wise. So yeah, at this point, you were willing to jump through a few hoops for half a GPA boost.
“Come on,” Dina whined one afternoon. “I literally saved your ass with that stats project. You owe me.”
You’d rolled your eyes and finally agreed, just to get her to shut up.
How much work could one student council project really be?
Oh. How wrong you were.
Flashback ends.
“What even is this?” you ask Dina, as she practically drags you down the hallway toward the student council room.
“You’ll see,” your bestie chirps, picking up the pace.
“Move it, or we’re gonna be late,” she huffs, and you’re already regretting every life decision that led you to this moment.
You’re trying your best to keep up, tip-tapping behind her in your burgundy kitten heels, until you finally reach the door.
Dina pulls it open and peeks inside.
“Perfect! We’re not even the last ones,” she grins, but your brain is too busy short-circuiting to appreciate the silver lining.
Because sitting at the head of the long-ass table set up inside, dead in your line of sight, is none other than your roommate.
Lucky for you, she hasn’t noticed you yet, her gaze is focused on the notebook in front of her. Perfect. You can still bolt.
You yank Dina back into the hallway.
“What the fuck is Anderson doing here?” you hiss, sneaking a quick glance at Abby, who’s scribbling something into that dumb notebook of hers. Her braid falls neatly over one shoulder, brushing against the collar of a navy sweater layered over a white button-up. Of course.
“Well, the gala’s being organized by the football team and the student council. I told you that,” Dina replies, not even phased.
“You absolutely did not tell me that,” you groan, running a manicured hand through your carefully styled hair.
“Well, now you know,” she says with a grin and bounces into the room to greet her fellow council members, and give Ellie a quick kiss.
“What gala, even?!” you call after her, but she’s already too busy.
You groan again. Loudly.
This is a nightmare. It was already more than enough having to survive Abby in your room. Or whenever Dina and Ellie forced you into doing stuff as a group, because of course, Abby had to be one of Ellie’s closest friends.
You were already maxed out on Abigail Anderson.
And now you’re supposed to organize a whole-ass gala with her?
Hard pass. No thank you. Absolutely not.
"Are you planning to take root out there or are you coming inside?" a warm voice tears you from your desperate thoughts, and you need no time to match it to its owner. Abby. She’s leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, eyeing you from head to toe with a less-than-enthusiastic look. Well, at least the feeling is mutual, you think bitterly.
Luckily, you're standing sideways to Abby, so you're just able to force a fake smile before smoothing down your pleated skirt and striding into the room with your head held high, ignoring her stupid comment. Your shoulder brushes against hers as you pass, but the contact throws you off more than it does her. Thanks to her annoying muscles, she remains standing like a wall.
You don't need to look at her to feel her amused smirk as she closes the door behind you. You hadn’t even noticed the room had filled up in the meantime, and after Abby heads toward the second-to-last free chair next to Dina, the same one she’d already been sitting in, you're left with no choice but to sit directly across from her next to two girls you've never seen before.
You smile at them more forced than genuine, still trying to grasp the absurdity of your situation, before crossing one leg over the other. Dina gets up from her chair and presses a button on a small black remote in her hand, and the projector behind her springs to life.
“Welcome to the planning of the annual fundraising gala. It’s great to see so many of you here,” Dina greets the group, there must be about fifteen people, including herself. “This year, we have the special honor of not organizing the gala alone, but with the generous support of our women’s football team, the Silver Lake Falcons.”
“Go Falcons!” a guy yells from somewhere up front on the right, and you can see Abby’s faint grin, which she tries to cover up by biting her lip. “There’s a reason why the gala isn’t just being organized by the student council this year, and that brings us directly to this year’s theme,” Dina continues, smiling, and clicks the remote again.
“Annual Fundraising Gala – For Future Female Athletes” appears on a new slide.
“This year, we want to advocate for more support for girls and women in sports, because what many people still overlook is how poorly women are supported in sports, especially in those dominated by men,” Abby explains from her seat, and Dina nods in agreement behind her.
“We’re going to donate the money to an organization that offers sports and self-defense classes exclusively for FLINTA* individuals and supports them in finding themselves through sports,” Abby continues, while Dina shows some images of the organization in the background. At least it’s a meaningful project, you think.
“We’re going to start by introducing the different planning areas for the gala, and you can already think about which one interests you and where you could imagine working,” Dina goes on, and that’s your cue to tune out. You're only here to get your extra credits, even though the gala’s theme genuinely speaks to you.
You lean back in your chair with your arms crossed, letting Dina’s words wash over you as you occasionally shift your gaze from the projector to study the people around you. You recognize a few of Dina’s student council colleagues and a handful of football players, but you can hardly name anyone.
Ellie catches your eye and winks at you, before turning her full attention back to Dina as if she was preaching some life-changing prophecy. You can’t help but smile briefly, those two are just too cute.
Unfortunately, next you meet Abby’s gaze, and it’s amazing how quickly that woman can plunge your mood to freezing point. Her ice-blue eyes are fixed on you, which, given your seating arrangement, isn’t surprising, but she doesn’t have to stare so offensively. A good way to make sure the last person in the room also knows you can’t stand each other.
You raise a perfectly arched eyebrow questioningly, earning only Abby’s typical eye roll in response. You shake your head and turn your attention back to the projector just as Dina ends her presentation.
“Alright,” she claps her hands. “We’ll take a ten-minute break now, and afterward you can come up to Abby and me and tell us what task you’d like to take on. If a task is too full, we’ll draw lots. Okay?”
Chairs scrape and excited chatter about the tasks fills the room. You take your time until everyone around you has gotten up and then slowly wander over to Ellie, sitting down on the now-empty chair next to her. “Hey,” you greet her. “Did Dina also chew your ear off to get you to help with this?” you ask, grinning.
“Oh, absolutely,” Ellie groans. “And Abby took the other one.” She glances at the two girls standing together over Dina’s laptop, discussing something probably related to the gala.
“I didn’t think this kind of gala thing was Abby’s thing,” you mumble. “With Dina, I get it.”
“Oh, Abby was all fired up when she heard it was about supporting FLINTA* and women’s sports,” Ellie says with a smirk. “Couldn’t stop her.”
“Ah,” is all you say in response, casting another look at your roommate. She’s laughing at something Dina just showed her on a list, and the warm sound fills the room. Her blue eyes sparkle and her cheeks have taken on a soft rosy hue over her freckles. She’s pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows. She looks like she’s in her element. You’d figured she was the kind of person who lives for sports and nothing else, but apparently Ms. Anderson also has organizational and leadership skills. Of course she does.
You chat a bit more with Ellie about this and that, and then the break is over and you say goodbye to her to return to your seat. The two girls you had to sit next to at the start greet you again.
“Hi,” says the girl directly beside you. She has long, straight, dark red hair that reaches almost to her waist, a striking but still very attractive face, and brown eyes looking at you through her false lashes, which still manage to look natural. Her skin is lightly tanned as if she just came back from a summer vacation, large golden hoops dangle from her ears, and her outfit is not unlike yours: a dark blue mini skirt, knee-high boots, and a strapless crop top.
She holds out a perfectly manicured hand in greeting. You’re a bit surprised she’s speaking to you so suddenly, but you shake her hand in return. “I’m Lindsey and this is Jessica,” she continues, pointing with a decorated acrylic nail to the black-haired girl beside her, who waves at you.
“You can just call me Jess,” she smiles.
Jess is a little less styled than Lindsey but equally stunning. Long black braids fall over her shoulders, and her gaze makes you feel like she already knows more about you than you do yourself. Her outfit is simple: light baggy jeans and a soft pink tank top that beautifully complements her dark skin.
You introduce yourself. “You’re not one of the football players, are you?” Jess asks curiously, twirling a braid around her finger.
“God, no,” you say, waving dismissively. “They can roll around in the dirt without me.”
“Girl, for real,” Lindsey agrees. “We’re in the student council with Dina,” she explains. “We’re responsible for the uni’s social media presence, so we didn’t want to miss the gala.”
“Ah, I get that.” You nod in understanding. “And why are you here?” Lindsey asks curiously, but before you can answer, Abby’s voice snaps you back to reality once again.
This time, though, you’re not all that mad at her for it, because you weren’t exactly eager to tell the girls that you’re only here because you have to be and would leave the second you could.
“If the three ladies in the back could also give us their attention, we could continue with the planning.” Her voice cuts through the room straight to your table, and you don’t need to look up to know she means you, Jess, and Lindsey.
You lift your chin and meet her gaze, which is already fixed on you. Then she glances at Lindsey beside you, and something in her expression shifts. Just for a split second, you think you see… confusion or irritation. Before you can be sure, her eyes are back on you, her expression hardening again.
“You can now come up and tell us which task you’d like. Dina and I will assign you accordingly,” she announces, once again the picture of a professional organizer, when she’s not being celebrated as the quarterback of the football team, anyway.
You take your time, you don’t even know what tasks are available, nor do you particularly care. You’ll just take whatever’s left. The line in front of you gets shorter, and more and more participants return to their seats, excited about getting the tasks they wanted.
You lean your hands on the table behind which Abby and Dina sit with the lists. “What’s your choice, hon?” Dina asks cheerfully.
“Uh, I don’t have one,” you reply. “I’ll just take whatever’s left.”
Abby raises an eyebrow but studies her list without making the snarky comment you expect on her tongue. “We’ve still got spots in catering or decoration,” she offers.
“Decoration would suit you perfectly,” Dina exclaims happily, clapping her hands before you can even answer.
“Okay,” you agree, barely suppressing a yawn. Your roommate doesn’t miss that, of course. She leans forward on her strong and veiny forearms across the table and studies you intently.
“Let me make one thing clear,” she says sharply so no one else hears. “If you’re not going to take this seriously, you better leave now. I don’t need your attitude, I’ve already got enough on my plate.”
“God forbid a woman is tired, Abby,” you snap back. “And what exactly are you so busy with, huh? So far, all you’ve done is sit at this table looking important and snapping at people. What do you actually do that’s useful for this gala?”
“The finances,” she replies dryly.
You can’t help but laugh. “Got a problem with that?” Abby snaps.
“Oh, more than one, but please,” you wave her off. You accept your list with an overview of your tasks from Dina, but before you can leave, Abby speaks again.
“The finances are, by the way, important for your decoration. I’d take it seriously if I were you, otherwise, I’ll just swipe every one of your suggestions off the table,” she grins smugly.
“Fuck you, Abby,” you mutter and click your heels as you walk back to your seat with your head held high.
“Was that really necessary?” Dina asks Abby quietly.
As soon as Abby’s eyes are off you, her façade crumbles.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, running a hand over her forehead and through her blonde hair. “That girl just drives me insane.”
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
a/n: I'm sorry for posting so irregulary, uni stress is insane rn, we had a death in the family and it's overall just a lot rn BUT that is what we have Abby Anderson for right?? She is my lil escape when everything gets to much 💋 (I'm coping VERY hard) anygays have fun with the chapter
taglist: @vangoes @modernvenuss @oatmatchalatte @starlockheart @mila-a-fanfiqueira
#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby tlou#the last of us#tlou#abby anderson tlou2#tlou2#abby x reader#abby x you#abby fanfiction#abigail anderson
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Sundew: Chapter 2 (Tom Hiddleston x Mia)
CW: my long standing grudge against a real man with a walnut sized bladder from a flight I took almost 15 years ago... Previous Chapter -- Masterlist -- AO3 -- Kofi Buy Kit a kofi and donate to the fund for publishing original works!
Mia checked the bags one last time just as her phone pinged with a text from Tom. He checked in at the end of every week, making sure she had enough money for the week ahead. Gas, groceries and whatever else she could need, as if he wasn’t scheduling deliveries of laundry soap, cleaning supplies and who knows what else.
He didn’t need to check on finances. Mia never had to fear running out of money, perhaps for the first time in her life. Since Tom moved them into this apartment, she squirreled away her paychecks, letting the funds build up. It helped her feel safe to have it at hand, in case everything fell apart.
Using it to book plane tickets and a hotel room for the weekend- that was all she could get off from the casino- though it was the cheapest room she could find that didn’t look certain to give her bedbugs, made her anxious. She was depleting her ‘if Tom bails’ safety net in order to surprise him.
She hoped it would count for something.
“Time to go, Sally!”
Sally was excited about her first plane ride. Mia was far from looking forward to it herself, but the excitement was contagious. Throughout the process of getting through security and to their gate, she took pictures and short clips of Sally with her wide, eager smile with blue NYC teddy bear in her hands.
Tom didn’t know they were coming and was missing all these new experiences. Hopefully, the surprise would be worth it to him, along with the pictures and videos.
It washed over Mia as she sat, watching Sally color, that she was worried about Tom missing out on Sally’s firsts, but she hadn’t given a single thought to Ray, her actual father, missing out on her first plane trip.
The realization made her feel guilty. She shouldn’t though, right? It was a part of moving on. How many birthdays and first days of school did Ray have to miss before Mia allowed herself to stop holding out for hope that he would step up?
Sally deserved this. Sally deserved a father like Tom.
Before Mia knew it, they were walking onto the plane and Sally was eagerly bouncing down the small aisle. She wore a pilot’s hat plopped on her head as they boarded and then they settled into their narrow seats.
It wasn’t comfortable. It was as she tried to explain to Sally what to expect that she realized it was the blind leading the blind child. She hadn’t been on a plane in a very long time herself.
By the time they were in the air, Mia was regretting not emptying her savings into better seats or abandoning the idea of the total surprise altogether and allowing Tom to help with the trip. Mia wasn’t tall, but the limited legroom left her legs feeling far too big for the space without even factoring in how much of Mia’s limited space Sally somehow found a way to occupy.
Mia thought she planned the seats perfectly. She had herself sat in the middle with Sally on the aisle. She planned for a restless young child who likely would need multiple bathroom breaks. What she didn’t factor in was the man who claimed the window seat having a bladder the size of a walnut and an unwavering commitment to hydration.
Within the first half hour in the air, the man had been up twice. It took just an hour for Mia to consider the possible legal repercussions of removing his irritable bladder for him.
“Excuse me,” he leaned into her space again as he stood. How many times had he gone now?
“We can switch seats with you,” Mia offered. “If that would be easier for you?”
Please, take it. Please.
“Oh,” he laughed nervously, “I don’t want to put you two out.”
“It wouldn’t be any trouble.” Please, take the offer. Take the fucking offer.
“I prefer the window,” he finally said sheepishly. “It’s better for my anxiety.”
Of course it is. At least with Sally napping curled up in her seat, it was really only Mia the man was annoying the ever loving shit out of.
All in all, Sally took to air travel really well. Her ears didn’t pain her with takeoff, and the small seats were big enough to keep her happy. Mia thought she was going to get through the flight with the only annoyance being the man with a walnut bladder.
Once the flight began its descent into New York City, Mia was in for a harsh reality check. The feeling of going up was exciting and thrilling for Sally. Going down? Absolutely terrifying.
From the moment the plane made its slight dip in the air, Sally was not okay. It was a struggle for Mia to wrap her arms around her terrified child and hold her tightly. The fright in Sally’s voice broke Mia’s heart, but the exasperated grumbling of Mr. Walnut-Bladder filled that broken heart with rage.
“It’s okay.” Mia rubbed Sally’s side as she held the small girl tightly through the descent.
“She’s not helping my anxiety,” Mr. Walnut-Bladder complained. Though he wasn’t talking to Mia, he certainly didn’t keep his voice low enough to keep his thoughts to himself.
Mia was about to snap at Mr. Walnut-Bladder when Sally whimpered, crying out for her mother as the plane tipped forward more, marking the sharp final descent through the air. Mr. Walnut wasn’t worth the time when Sally needed Mia more.
“It’s okay,” Sally whispered, hugging her daughter tightly. “We’re safe.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know,” Mia hummed, wishing there was more she could do to comfort Sally. “We’ll be on the ground in just a few minutes.”
The wheels couldn’t touch the ground soon enough. Mia did her best to keep Sally calm until the plane was steady on the ground again. Hopefully, the act of landing would not leave Sally too traumatized to fly home without too much of a fuss.
If not… well, Mia didn’t have much other choice. It wasn’t like they could just not go home.
There wasn’t time to dwell on that, though. Everyone was standing and fighting to grab their bags from the overhead bins. Mia may not have gotten to snap at Mr. Walnut-Bladder during the landing, but she got a sick satisfaction of watching him whine and complain about having to piss, yet again, while the aisle was backed up with people.
It wasn’t that she wanted him to pee his pants like a child. She didn’t wish that on the people who’d have to clean it up, but she wasn’t so sure that if he did, there would be much of a mess with how often he’d been up.
The moment they stepped off the plane and into the terminal, Mr. Walnut-Bladder was pushing past Mia and the rest of the people, rushing ahead. He was no doubt on a quest for an emergency trip to the bathroom to empty his walnut yet again.
The taxi ride from the airport to the hotel left Mia mesmerized by the size of the city as Sally dozed next to her. She wasn’t from a small town and Vegas was a big city in its own right, but it was nothing compared to the glory that was New York City.
There were so many people and worse, they were absolutely everywhere. It was overwhelming, as was the thought that this city was normal to Tom. How many times had be been there? How many more times would he be there?
Mia was far from well versed in the lay of the city and while she knew where Tom was staying and where about he was filming, she very much knew she could not afford to stay in the same place without asking for help. The hotel she found, though only inching toward the ‘nice’ range of hotel rooms, was somewhat close to where Tom was.
Hopefully.
It better be, because the room kinda really sucked.
Mia just got the bag on the bed when her phone went off, startling her. She looked from Tom’s face on the screen to Sally, bouncing on the bed. It took only a second to tell the child to settle down before she ducked into the bathroom and answered the video call from Tom.
“Hey!” Mia cringed at the sound of her voice. It was a bright, cheery tone and oh so very fake. “What’s up?”
“‘Ello, darling.” Tom’s face was warm on the screen, contrasting with the dark hair draped and costume he wore. She could see his eyes darting around. “Why are you in a hotel bathroom?”
“Oh! No reason.” Mia hated how things looked, how they sounded. “It was just one of those long days. I figured I’d take a room to rest in on my lunch.”
“Right.” Tom cleared his throat. “I just had a few minutes and wanted to see your face. I didn’t think you’d answer since you said you were working doubles.”
Mia laughed nervously as Sally knocked on the bathroom door, stealing her attention from Tom. “One minute,” Mia said as she directed her attention back to the phone.
“Who’s there?” Tom asked.
“Just- uh, just one of my coworkers. We’re splitting the room. We do that sometimes, when a lot of us are working doubles. We’ll get a room and split it between a bunch of us so we can unwind better on our breaks. I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta get back to it, though.”
“Right, right.” Tom didn’t sound like he believed her. “I’ll let you get to it then.”
“Right.” Mia realized she didn’t actually know exactly where Tom was. “Oh, Tom?”
“Yes?” Mia couldn’t tell if he was answering her or someone off to the side who was also talking. “Sorry, they need me back soon.”
“Where are you guys filming at?”
Tom rattled off a general area in a rush as someone called for him again in the distance. “I’ve got to get going, darling.”
“Of course,” Mia said. “I love you.”
The call disconnected before Tom said the words back. It stung. Of course, Tom was busy. He snuck a moment away to call her and was rushed. It meant nothing at all.
Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing @evedia @princess-ofthe-pages, @tom-hlover Get on the tag list of follow #sundew for updates!
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#Tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x oc#Tom hiddleston x original female character#Tom hiddleston x original character#tom hiddleston fanfic#Tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddleston rpf#Sundew
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Saw the Minecraft Movie.
Should have seen Looney Toons instead.
You know how there’s movies like Sharknado that are so bad some people think they’re good? And they know they’re bad and lean totally into it?
This movie, which took five people to write, feels a whole lot like Minecraft Legends, first of all, with the piglin antagonist. It’s insane, and it knows it’s insane, but acknowledgment in this case doesn’t mean jack squat.
It’s like they were embarrassed by their own creation, determined to make fun of it before anyone else could.
I remember years ago, people were making absolutely beautiful rendered animatics, and everyone loved them. Slamacow’s in particular come to mind. There’s no reason for all this song and dance with potato chip factories and the lady from the Discover commercials.
Every time I thought she was gone they kept cutting back to her in another dimension like she had contractually-obligated screen time.
I would have happily sat for 2 hours watching Jack Black just voice animated Steve going on the craziest speedrun imaginable. He clearly had a lot of fun making this movie. But he couldn’t save it from the choices that were made.
I knew I wasn’t the target demo, but I don’t know who is? This feels like the chaos of Fortnite, and those are two games with very different atmospheres and goals.
The credits to the game are 10 straight minutes of some profound bit of introspective poetry. And it felt like Minecraft in the first 30 seconds of loading chunks, and then it suddenly didn’t, in the opening shot of not-Minecraft.
I’m not mad I’m just so confused as to how we got here. There’s not even excess shameless easter eggs to impress the older gamers. One of the minions goes “sorry but I’m gonna have to un-alive you”. Who is this movie for??
Just. Animate it. Faithful to the game. They already had proof of concept from 14 years of fanworks that it could be amazing. The Mario movie is like the Godfather compared to this thing, and it also knew it was ridiculous.
Normally in adaptations like this you’d have people (myself included I’ll admit) poking at all the lore inaccuracies that were too easy to get wrong. In this case game mechanic inaccuracies. And there were some, but to point them out given the state of everything else would be useless. (But they did get some mechanics wrong, nonetheless)
***The animators who worked on this did a fantastic job with what they were given. My complaints are with those concepts, not what they produced.***
About the only thing this movie does right, besides the sound effects pulled from the game, is making me appreciate the game so much more.
And about the best thing it got accurate was younger gamers screaming the whole time. Jason Momoa and Jack Black sure had fun, but they were screaming for probably half their script.
I’d discussed the plot, characters, themes, and villains… but they were just kinda there (well the plot wasn’t there but you know). I hope the actors had fun, that’s all I have to say about it.
However there were kids in the audience who seemed to be enjoying themselves, and good for them.
Also I appreciated the practical props and sets when they were there. But because there was such an obvious disparity between practical and CGI, it was really distracting.
I think I heard music by C418 only once. Mario made orchestral versions of the famous 8-bit tracks, and the whole audience was cheering. So that was disappointing as well.
TLDR: Go see Looney Toons, if you’ve only got the funds for one ticket. Jack Black looks like he had so much fun it’s impossible to hate this dumpster fire, and it’s making money.
Hating it just isn’t worth the effort.
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From @womble1
From @womble1 to @sailing-on-a-puddle
Prompt used: Kip Harris comes to dinner at the end of Flame Out
Completed by Womble1
Kip Harris had just finished tucking up his trusty little truck in the fire hall. It was the last one to park up, the rest of his team having made it back just before him. The air in the garage space was smokey, carrying that earthy bite distinctive of forest fires. But, better than lingering methane. Taking a last look to make sure that all the equipment was restocked and stashed just how he liked it ready for the next call, he picked up his hat and went to climb out of the truck.
Kip Harris was the kind of man who didn’t startle easily. It was essential in his line of work, and key to how he had managed to rack up so many years of experience without becoming a charred footnote on an incident report. However, the involuntary muscular spasm that made it appear that he jumped did tally suspiciously with the unexpected holocal appearing from his dashboard.
After a few totally normally paced heartbeats, Kip recognised the young man he had spoken to earlier when petitioning International Rescue for help.
“Hi Mister Harris, I hear you’re joining us for dinner.”
“I guess that's so, young man.” he drawled, waiting to see where this was going.
“Well you might need a lift, we’re a little off the main highways,” there was a half hint of a smile under the assumed professionalism. Kip wasn’t sure what the joke was but he knew there was one. He gave the boy the benefit of the doubt and assumed he wasn’t about to become the joke. The other one…Virgil, he reminded himself, he prided himself on remembering names, it was a sign of respect, Virgil had seemed so earnest that Kip had taken the invitation as genuine. He had learnt over the years to roll with whatever life threw at him, and you never quite knew where an unexpected invitation might take you.
The ghost of a smile had vanished as quick as it had arrived, and been promptly replaced with the same swift professionalism that Kip had noted in their first interaction.
“We’ll send someone over to pick you up in about 2 hours if that’s alright Mister Harris.”
“Much obliged.” and he touched the brim of his hat briefly.
Shadow touched down precisely 2 hours later, her motorbike section swapped for a module with a passenger seat. Kayo kept her steely poker face and politely ignored the ungainly noises the great Kip Harris made whilst trying to contort himself into the spare seat. She also keyed a quick message to John to ask him to run distraction at the other end so the poor man could climb out again without an audience. A job which John completed with his usual efficient economy of effort. Which in this case meant delegating to Gordon.
Gordon achieved this by dressing himself up in ski gear which had last seen the light of day in Scotts early teens and jamming every possible zip fastening. Because as everyone knows, jammed zips can only be fixed by a grandmother's gentle persuasion. Ok, maybe not a widely known saying, but Gordon played it for all he was worth, monopolising his grandmother's attention like a pro. In fact, what started as a 2 minute ad-lib piece, was quickly extended to a 10 minute improv performance at Scotts hasty command.
Scott and John, had been drawn with a sense of dread by the charred smell emanating from the kitchen. They had caught a glimpse of the culinary delights prepared by their loving grandmother, and the call to stall was sent out via morse code to Gordons watch.
“What I don’t understand is why she cremated lasagne from scratch when we have some in the chiller already, the nice stuff.” John was staring at the far more inviting cheese topped tray where it sat, still blissfully charcoal free, in the refrigerator. There was a wistful glint in his eye for the meal that could have been.
Scott prodded at the carbon encased remains that were left after Grandma had dished up all the portions. She had joyfully called it “extra in case anyone wanted seconds” and put it back in the oven.
“We can’t make Mr Harris eat this, Virgil will never forgive us if his hero chokes to death on….on whatever went into this.” it had a certain sulphur tang.
“It’s not like we have a lot of choice. Kayo is already inbound and this dish will never warm through in time.” Big enough to feed a family with a heavy percentage of “growing boys”, the catering sized lasagne took up the entire shelf.
Scott shut the oven door decisively, squared his shoulders and turned to John. “Let's work the problem then. Give me options Thunderbird Five.”
John sighed, there was no fighting it when Scott got like this. Yes, it was what made him an amazing leader out in the field, but in the domestic setting it could get a bit grating, especially for a man who had already spent far too many hours that day “working the problem” and frankly all he wanted was comfort food and maybe a hot bath.
“Antacids and a lot of wine?” John shrugged feebly.
“No, I think you were on to something with the chilled lasagne,” Scott started pacing around the kitchen island, always working better when he was on the move.
“Only raw lasagne isn’t going to pose any less of a risk than the crispy one. I said, it’s too big to cook in time.”
“Ok, but what if it wasn’t.” Scott shot back, still not slowing his pacing.
John dragged a hand down his face, “But it is.” he pointed out.
“Yes, but it doesn’t need to be.” Scott replied, pleased with himself.
John frowned and considered pre-drinks. “Come again?”
“We don’t need to heat all of it, if we can just get enough so that we don’t kill our guest, then everyone else can make do with the….with the original?”
John screwed his face up at the thought of it.
“Oh, come on John, we’ve managed worse. Push it around your plate a bit and raid the snack stash later.”
John shrugged and conceded with a limp nod. Scott had a point, but that didn’t mean John needed to be happy about it. “Fine, we can probably make that work, but you’re the one swapping it out.”
“Fine,” the risk taker in Scott took that condition in his stride, knowing that without John on his side the plan would be 100 times harder. “How much do you think we can heat up in…” Scott glanced at his watch, “.. four minutes.”
“One portion,” John answered, quick as a flash, “and it's going in the microwave.”
“Boys! Make yourselves presentable, and don’t you go messing with my place settings. I’ll know if you’ve stolen any garlic bread! I’m going to greet our guest!” Grandma hollered down the stairs before diverting to the elevators to head off their visitor. Gordon followed close behind, shedding pieces of skiwear as he jumped through the closing doors.
Thankfully, Gordons’ distraction had done the trick and by the time Sally made it down Kit had been able to extract himself from Shadows passenger seat with a little dignity still intact, and Kayo was leading him across the hangar floor towards the lifts.
“Hi again! Glad you could join us” Gordon stepped around his grandmother waving.
“Thank you for the invitation,” he took Gordons offered hand and gave it a hearty shake. “And who would this be?” Kip asked, turning.
“Oh that's Grandma” Gordon provided.
Kip held out his hand in greeting. “Well I can’t rightly be callin’ you Grandma now can I? It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”
“Sally,” she beamed back, as he doffed his hat with his free hand, not yet releasing hers. “You can call me Sally.” she giggled. “The boys said you knew Jeff?”
“We met just the once, at a training facility for advanced fire safety training. I used to help run a few sessions. Supplemented the income and kept the skills up to date. You never learn more than when you're helping others learn.” he said solemnly. “Jeff Tracy certainly had some original ideas for tackling the practice simulations, thinkin’ outside the box doesn’t usually involve setting light to the box. But pushing boundaries is how you grow, and eyebrows grow back on their own eventually.” he chuckled.
Gordon was all ready to dive in and ask some more questions around that one, and possibly provide a few eyebrow singing anecdotes of his one, but Grandma physically steered her guest towards the lift up to the residential levels.
Back in the kitchen it was all go! Microwave technology was deployed to a neatly extracted portion of shop bought lasagne.John managed not to cry as he put the rest of the dish back in the refrigerator. Scott had been sent up to the dining room to complete the swap out as soon as the pasta was steaming hot.
Scott bobbed on the balls of his feet, restless as he waited in the little used room. It was a space that had been part of the architects’ “vision” and fitted with the billionaire private island brief, but in reality it didn’t really fit the families needs. They weren’t hosting the kind of swanky dinner parties that the architect envisioned. The long glass topped table that sat 12, with chandeliers running its whole length and high backed chairs were meant to add contrast to the natural stone wall running one side of the room, and the expansive glass windows running the other. Scott had always wondered why it had survived beyond the drawing board stage at all, but it did offer the foundations for Virgil's studio space on the floor above, and Scott could see why their father had been keen to keep that design choice. Life on the island revolved much more around the kitchen table, just as it had for generations, they were “new money” after all.
Scott drummed his fingers on the table, but stopped when he realised that he was leaving fingerprints on the glossy surface. He looked up and down the table again, their grandmother had already laid out the portions of lasagne (?) in each place, they wouldn't even be able to get away with just taking a smaller piece.
He eyed up the place settings and tried to work out where Mr Harris might be expected to sit. They didn’t have their own preferred seats in here like they did at the kitchen table, so there was much more guesswork involved. She would probably insist he sit facing the view, because it was the best part of the room. Virgil was likely to claim a seat opposite. Brains usually preferred end seats, but might be drawn nearer if the conversation went to technical improvements. Kayo always took a corner, clear views and clear exits. Alan would probably be at Gordons side, and Gordon always made sure to pick somewhere with enough space for two because he knew that Alan got a little nervous when there were new people around, even if you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him now he was older. Scott usually ended up wherever was left, much like John, but somehow the others usually orchestrated things so that Scott was near the exit in case he got called away, and a quiet corner for John in case he was at his limit for people for the day.
That left one strong contender for their guests’ seat. Decided, Scott saw the light on the dumbwaiter turn green. Another remnant from the life the architect thought they would be living, but it did save lugging dishes across the villa and made the clear up less arduous. Reaching in, Scott nearly burnt his fingers on the hot plate, hissing, he quickly switched out the offending plate, replaced it with the far more appetising alternative and was just working out what to do with the excess burnt offering when John's hologram popped up from the table unit.
“Quick, get out of there now! They’re coming, she can’t find you in there Scott, she’ll assume you’ve been at the bread.”
Adrenaline coursed through Scotts veins, he absolutely could not get caught, not after the last time, he’d only just regained garlic bread privileges. He strode towards the door.
“Too late, she's on the stairs, hide!” John urgently whispered, before blinking out of existence.
“Hide? Where!?” all Scott could see was windows and glass! The sideboard was full of charger plates and serving dishes that saw as little use as the room, no chance of hiding in there. Then he saw it, the dumbwaiter. It would be a squeeze, but Scott knew he could manage it. For once grateful that the architect had thought big when it came to entertaining. Although big was relative, flinging the burnt food in the sideboard, a problem for later, Scott climbed onto the top of the counter and concertina’d himself into the narrow lift. Sliding the door closed with his fingertips, he jabbed at his comms watch “call the lift! Call lift!” he hissed when John appeared. A mechanical clunk confirmed that his orders had been actioned and Scott would have let out a sigh of relief if there had been enough space left, but with his knees pushing firming into his chest Scott made do with briefly resting his forehead against his leg.
Alan looked like his jaw might drop off in surprise when he was instructed to open up the kitchen hatch, only to find Scott curled up in the small space within. Alan remained standing there, lost for words as Scott extricated himself out with no little difficulty. He was nearly set for a collision course with the hard kitchen floor, when Kayo materialised at his side and hoisted his torso up while he got his feet under him. Once again Kayo was required to politely ignore old man noises as, for the second time that day, she prayed that the popping joint sounds didn't mean something had dislocated.
Grabbing Alan by the scruff of his shirt, and Scott by an elbow, she steered them in the direction of the dining room without a word. John tried to distance himself from the whole thing by keeping out of her eye line, even though he knew that was a futile hope.
As they walked into the room Grandma was steering Mr Harris to his seat… the wrong seat. Scott hadn’t taken into consideration the angle of the sun at this point of the day, and the place Scott had earmarked was no longer the prime position at the table. John was being directed to the table setting where the one and only edible portion of lasagna was steaming gently.
Alan walked past as Scott calculated the new state of play, making his way to the seat Scott had predicted for him. Kayo also claimed her seat according to Scotts’ plan. At least some things didn't change. Gordon was just walking past the end of the table having just set the water jug back on the sideboard, seemingly going back to take his seat next to Alan. Another peg in the right hole, but how to get all the other pieces to align? Scott sized up his options and took action. It was going to take a Tracy Fix. He stuck his foot out, silently promising to apologise to Gordon later, and his brother tripped and went flying across the thankfully plush carpet. It had always seemed an odd choice for a dining room, but Scott didn’t question it now. Gordon rolled into a well practiced breakfall mostly by muscle memory, Scott knew he would be fine. While everyone was distracted Scott gestured to John with a combination of desperate hand movements and cobbled together ASL, he made it very clear that the lasagne needed to be relinquished and swapped with Kips this instant, and no puppy dog eyes or pouty faces were going to change that.
The disappointment was clear in his face, but John quickly complied, and relocated the plates with no verbal complaint.
It was the work of a split second, and Scott was able to help Gordon back to his feet before anyone could notice.
Scott took the last remaining seat, the satisfied feeling of a successfully completed mission was quickly overtaken with revulsion when he looked down at the quickly congealing charred lump that was sat where his dinner ought to be. Oh well, he had overcome worse, he grabbed a fork with the same forced calmness of someone facing a root canal.
The meal progressed, with carbonised lumps of pasta being chased around plates and hidden under salad leaves. Grandma barely touched hers, mostly because she was far too distracted by her dining companion. Mr Harris seemed quite willing to regale his audience with anecdotes from interesting experiences throughout his professional career. An observer would have been hard pressed to decide who was hanging off his every word more - Grandma or Virgil.
The next crisis forced itself to the forefront of everyone's attention with the high pitched beeping of the kitchen fire alarm. It was all systems go, and everyone raced down the stairs. But the drama was short lived,as they were greeted by the sigh of Max deploying a fire extinguisher directly into the warming oven where the crumble that Grandma had left crisping had caught fire.
It was declared inedible by all including Grandma. Although Kips revelation that he had lost a significant proportion of his sense of smell and taste after a couple of interesting chemical fires early in his career forced Scott to have to fake a coughing fit in order to cover John's plaintive whine. Kip would have happily stayed discussing fire extinguisher suppression foam with Virgil and Brains had Grandma not suggested a sunset stroll on the beach.
Once the couple left, the stampede to the larder was akin to a full body contact sport. So much so that nobody noticed Max gliding off in the opposite direction looking as suspicious as it is possible for a quadrupedal robot to look. It was, however, noted that some of the snacks stash seemed to have already been taxed, but with a constantly active island population it was impossible to confidently attribute blame. Brains was able to enjoy a spot of supper a safe distance from the howling cacophony coming from the pantry.
Bags of chips were launched through the air, snatched mid flight by other eager hands. Packets of cookies spun over heads, sometimes bouncing off a shoulder only to be scrabbled at and claimed before it had any chance of hitting the floor.
Gordon, who had been complaining of a sore knee and pointedly looking at Scott for most of the meal, was now bodily hoisting Alan out of reach of a tray of jealously guarded and specially imported Reeses cups. These were quickly nabbed by a pasty arm with freakishly long reach, so the point was quickly moot.
Kayo ducked under one arm, jabbed a sensitive pressure point to her left and poked at ribs to her right with pinpoint accuracy. Through this method she manoeuvred through the brawling, scooped her preferred snacks up into one arm and exited the fray as quick as she had arrived. A collective groan was heard when the remaining combatants realised she had taken the last bag of Doritos , but nobody felt like challenging her for them as she sat, calm as a cucumber, eating her haul at the kitchen table, watching events unfold, a dispassionate 3rd party.
Alan was lifted by the scruff of his shirt by Virgil after he threatened to bite Gordon. He was forcibly parked at the table next to Kayo with a bowl of carrot batons from the refrigerator.
It was at this point that John remembered the tray of lasagne, with its single slice already removed. Only seconds passed before the others realised what John was up to and in no time at all a lasagne heating production line was in place. Dolloped portions of pasta and sauce made their way in and out of the microwave with well practiced efficiency. Teamwork at it’s best.
By the time Grandma was leading her guest back towards the villa in the hope of a willing taxi driver, the dishes had been stacked in the dishwasher and all evidence of the meal had been eradicated, baring the contented smiles on faces.
Unfortunately none of them were quick enough to stop their grandmother from pressing a box of leftovers on her poor unsuspecting guest. John's shrug signaled that by this point it was felt that Mr Harris could fend for himself, they had tried their best. A sentiment that all others present were quite willing to sign up to.
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10:39pm
Choi San x Reader
Warnings: swearing (only once I think), mentions of reader having periods, San being the best bf
Summary: life sucks but at least you have San to make it better
A/N: omg it’s been like 2 years since I’ve written a fic…WHOOPS
The day sucked, or for a more accurate description, the days sucked.
Every day for the past month has been a nonstop cycle of waking up, going to work at your full time job for eight hours, coming home and doing university work until dinner (sometimes forgetting to even eat), and then work until you pass out. Endless quizzes and essays and math notes that went on for ten pages.
The only good constant in your life was San. The guy has been there for you all throughout this crappy process. Always providing shoulder rubs when you got tense, checking in to see if you’ve eaten, leaving cups of water on your work table even if you didn’t notice until you got parched an hour later.
Right now you were trying to write an essay for your geography class. The time was now twenty minutes past six o’clock and right on schedule was your time to stress. Your legs were crossed underneath you, your laptop and notes spread out covering the coffee table in front of you. You were wearing one of San’s hoodies, specifically the gray one that he unwillingly gave to you. The one that he used to wear all the time but since you came around you adopted it as yours. You’ve worn it so much so that it started to have your scent on it rather than San’s.
The tv across from you softly played your playlist as you tried to focus. The pain coming from your stomach didn’t help. That’s just what you needed this week too. The moment you woke up you knew.
You heard the apartment door creak open “Sweetheart,” San called out, “I’m home.”
You were in too much pain to even greet him. He took his shoes off by the door and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sweetheart?”
He walked over to you and saw how you were bent over, studying and in pain. He knew when you were hurting. He sat next to you on the couch and wrapped his arms around you. Your body naturally sunk into him and he smiled softly. “That time again?”
You nodded against his chest. He softened his voice. “You doing okay?” Again, you silently shook your head. It was as if you could feel his smile sink. “Have you eaten today?” he asked.
“Only coffee this morning and an apple when I got home,” you croaked out.
“Baby, that’s not food.”
You sat up. “Knowledge is brain food,” you half-heartedly joked as you tapped your pencil on your forehead.
“Okay,” he laughed, “now you’re being delirious.” San stood from the couch holding his hand out. You looked at him and blinked, wondering what in the world was he doing. “C’mon. Let’s go get food.”
“Sannie,” you sighed, “there’s just too much to do. I can’t just up and leave when there’s notes to take and I have to finish this essay by next class meet and not to mention the-”
You felt his lips softly press against your own. “Take a break, my love. You’re overworking yourself again.” He pulled you up and stood you against his body, enveloping you into a hug worth of awards. “I’ll take you to that small Italian place you like so much and we can even bring it back here and watch your show. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like I would be missing a lot of work,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“Fine,” you groaned. You moved to grab your phone. “But only if you promise me cheesecake.”
He laughed at your antics. “Honey, that was always the plan.”
He took your hand and didn’t let go the entire walk to the car. Even when he started driving, his hand was on your thigh. There was not a moment when his hand wasn’t touching you.
Flash forward to the apartment, pasta containers on the table instead of the notes, your laptop put away to charge for the night. The show you and San started together played before you, a show that you’ve both seen numerous times, but it was your show. You looked at San as he watched the tv. He was dressed in his own hoodie and sweats. His black hair lay in front of his eyes; you loved it when his hair grew out. You smiled to yourself thinking how lucky you were for him.
He turned his eyes to you. “What?” he smiled.
“Nothing,” you said, “just looking at you.”
“Okay, creep,” he laughed as he set his bowl down and opened his arms for you. You gladly accepted and laid there for a minute, taking in the moment. You squeezed his waist a bit tighter and in turn your stomach did the same.
“Jesus Christ,” you sucked through your teeth. Of course it would act up when you were in your best moment.
“Jagi,” San started to move, “get up for a sec.”
“Wait-no, I just wanna lay here,” you protested.
“Trust me, sweetheart.” He laid down facing the tv and made room for you to lay your back against his chest. When you were settled, you felt his hand come under your hoodie and lay on your stomach, rubbing small circles into your skin.
“I love you, Sannie, so much.”
You felt his lips against your forehead. “I love you always, sweetheart.”
#choi san fluff#choi san x reader#choi san smut#ateez fluff#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez x reader#ateez fic#ateez san#ateez imagines
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Lego Volcano (Part 6)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Lego Volcano - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
I wrote more :D And this was fun :D
Still @idontknowreallywhy, @sofasurf @womble1 and @sailing-on-a-puddle and other wonderful Thunderfam peeps’ fault :D
Extra special thanks to @onereyofstarlight for actually writing a few small bits of this as I fell out of my knowledge zone and needed serious help, and also for Kiwi advice regarding Alex - gotta help an Aussie speak Kiwi because I miss lots of things. We all speak English, but differently :D Couldn't do this without you.
All the hugs to those who commented and reblogged yesterday's chapter. You guys keep Alex alive :D
This little fic is now nearly 10,000 words long, like 9,950+
M/M and full of fluff still.
I hope you enjoy this bit :D
-o-o-o-
o-o-o-
Scott woke groggy and hot.
It was to be expected. Apparently he was sick. Damnit. Anger and frustration flared in his belly and most of the groggy part of waking up was washed away.
A tickle in his aching throat had him swallowing hard.
He opened his eyes to the infirmary. He sighed. Grandma and Virgil were going to be intolerable.
His throat tickled again and he shifted on the bed, looking for the expected cup of water. Sure enough, there it was on his bedside table. Virgil was wonderfully predictable at times.
He reached out and his body creaked as he sat up, but the cool water was a balm on his throat and worth every movement.
His tablet was sitting beside the water and he grabbed at it eagerly. He needed to reply to Jack, their lawyer, regarding the latest suit from Fischler. Jack quite enjoyed tossing Fischler’s lawyers around the courtroom, but Scott would prefer a quick end to the latest shenanigans, both he and Jack had better things to do.
His tablet lit up…in green. Oh, damn.
John has restricted your access. Play a computer game, read a book, or watch a movie. International Rescue and Tracy Industries are all being expertly handled. Carly has her instructions. John and I have your back. Relax, Scooter.
Scott let air out between his teeth.
PS: Please look after Alex for me.
Huh? Scott frowned. But as if to answer his unspoken question, a snuffle alerted him to the fact there was someone else in the room.
The tablet landed on the sheets as he realised Alex Sweetapple was sleeping in the chair beside his bed. The lanky engineer was sprawled haphazardly across the furniture, blond hair sticking out in all directions.
Virgil had obviously snuck in at some point as there was a pillow in the man’s lap.
The thought of Virgil sobered him. His brother had been so sick, and now Scott was off rota…damn. He shifted on the bed, frustrated.
Alex muttered something, curled around the pillow and onto his side, now looking even more uncomfortable than before.
He snorted in his sleep.
Scott eyed the man. He couldn’t ask for a better employee, but he was a walking hazard, mostly to himself and apparently he was hazardous in his sleep as well.
And Virgil loved him.
The thought brought a small smile to Scott’s face. It was so good to see Virgil so happy. Alex was smart, goofball or no, and seemed to be able to match his brother on engineer topics - the two of them could babble excitedly for hours.
He was also very loyal. Tia’s reports were shining, Alex was definitely an asset, he worked hard.
The worship in his eyes was occasionally hard to handle. ‘Mr Tracy’ wasn’t sure he could live up to the reverence accorded him.
But Virgil loved Alex.
And that was enough.
He sighed again and let his gaze rest on the ceiling. The very worst part of being sick was the boredom.
His tablet bleeped.
He grabbed it.
A system of equations filled over half the screen.
Oh, so that is how it is, John? Going to distract me with math, are you?
But even as he thought it, the numbers started taking shape. He'd need a Jacobian matrix to approximate the first part of the solution, unless he applied an RK4 numerical method... knowing John, he'd need a justification showing the minimisation of error.
His lips curled up to one side. Okay, let’s do this.
-o-o-o-
Alex woke to humming.
He cracked open an eyelid to find he had shoved his face into a pillow at some point - explained the struggle to breathe.
His neck creaked as he moved and as his body came online, he realised he had fallen asleep on the wrong furniture again. Erica probably had photos.
Again.
The humming was interrupted by a dry cough, but after a moment started up again.
It sounded happy.
Alex unfolded and found himself in a hospital room? Wha-? But then his brain booted fully, supplying him with details of last night and Mr Tracy-
Mr Tracy!
Alex sat up straight and the chair teetered. A wobble, two feet on the ground and he managed to prevent himself from falling on his head, but it did all get the blood pumping and consciousness clear and functioning.
Mr Tracy was sitting up in bed and…writing on the bed sheets.
Wha-?
His boss had a black marker in his hand, had spread out the sheets on the bed and was methodically making notations.
While humming some triumphant overture, his voice cracking here and there, proving he was still the sick man Alex had caught early this morning.
What was he writing?
With yet another creak, Alex quietly pushed himself to his feet and every muscle complained. Wasn’t the first time he had slept awkwardly, wouldn’t be the last, but he was more concerned with the numbers Virgil’s brother was writing down…was that a Jacobian matrix?
His eyes danced over the somewhat smudged digits on the bed. Numbers and letters lined up in chains, reading them…omigod…
“That’s beautiful!”
The humming ended in a squawk. “Alex!” The ‘A’ in his name cracked and Mr Tracy sounded more like his youngest brother than himself as his voice skipped up an octave.
But Alex only had eyes for the work on the sheets. “How did you get such a perfect solution?”
“Wha-? Oh,” he cleared his throat again, “John likes to distract me with math.”
“I’d say he succeeded.”
Mr Tracy grunted and coughed again.
There was a smudge of black ink on his cheek.
The numbers were just amazing. “How did you get that solution?”
Mr Tracy’s eyes darted between Alex and the numbers on the sheets “You can read that?”
“God, yeah.”
He stared at Alex a moment longer before pointing out a particular section. “John thought he could catch me here. The variable could easily be switched out and replaced with a static whole number - it would solve it perfectly, but a bit on the boring side. If you input an exponential function here, however, it creates a whole array of possibilities.”
Alex focussed on the equations. Whole number, yes, he could see that, the answer was clear. But if he threw in the function…the numbers just danced. “That’s so elegant. The pattern is perfect.”
“Yeah.” Scott was grinning.
Alex looked up to see those tired bruised eyes lighting up.
John was apparently right.
Scott liked maths.
Now this was a language Alex could speak.
“What happens if you put in a polynomial?”
-o-o-o-
Virgil yawned. He really wasn’t up to it, but he had to do it. Much better than Scott killing himself.
Two would be landing momentarily, with a furious Gordon aboard, and he needed to help his brothers with post-situation protocol…and possibly talk Gordon down from something vicious…that John had probably already enacted…yeah, his brothers were chaos itself.
But their hearts were in the right place.
Earlier he had checked on his biggest brother and found both him and Alex asleep in the infirmary. Grandma had left firm instructions with John adding his own version of early morning events.
Fortunately, while Scott was still very warm, he was finally getting some rest. The bed readings provided some reassurance.
Alex was a gymnast in sleep as usual. The man could sleep anywhere in some of the most outlandish positions. It certainly wasn’t the first time Virgil had needed to dig up a pillow or picked up his boyfriend and haul him off to bed.
He was adorable when he was asleep.
Of course, mentioning this when Alex was awake brought on all the flushed embarrassment which had its own adorableness that always needed to be kissed away - any excuse, really.
So Virgil was smiling when he gently tucked the pillow under Alex’s head.
And the thought had him smiling right now.
But before Two landed and almost inevitably disturbed Scott, Virgil wanted to check on him.
To his surprise, as he approached the infirmary, laughter was echoing down the hall.
“He really thought that?”
“Yeah, to infinite decimals and beyond.”
That prompted more laughter which suddenly dissolved into coughing and had Virgil hurrying into the room.
Which was not the room he had left earlier.
The infirmary was draped in bedsheets, a cupboard left askew where they had originally been folded neatly. Now they were stuck up on the walls with surgical tape and draped over the curtain rails.
And covered in mathematical notation.
At the centre of the room sat Scott in bed scribbling with the black markers Virgil had left behind earlier in the hope that John would be able to trigger a math distraction.
Apparently, he had.
But he hadn’t thought his boyfriend would end up with black smudges all over his face and hands.
Because Alex was beside his brother, holding the bed sheet so Scott could write on it.
“I think we should cube this.” Alex pointed at a spot on the sheet. “It will look good.”
“Hmm, I think a factor of…seven will be prettier.”
Prettier?
“You could be right. It definitely needs to be an odd number. Even would be too regular.”
“Yeah.” Scott scribbled something. “What if we cube this and seven that. They’ll work nicely together.”
“Oh, I like that. Follow that one through.”
As Virgil watched, Scott jotted down several lines in his smooth precise hand. His tongue was sticking out the side of his mouth as his eyes darted back and forth, calculations bouncing in the blue.
Alex’s eyes were following the numbers and every now and again, he would make a suggestion or ask a short question…
“Oh, I see what you mean. The seventh iteration is just perfect.”
“The third isn’t that bad either. That’s why they work so well together.”
Virgil found himself grinning like a loon. He knew Alex could speak math. You didn’t get to do any engineering without math. But he had no idea he could speak at Scott level math. Hell, even John got lost sometimes at Scott level.
And to see the two of them so relaxed in each other’s presence…
“Virgil?” Scott was suddenly frowning at him. “You okay?”
“Virgil!” Alex dropped the sheet and hurried over. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I was helping Scott and then fell asleep and then…did you know Scott likes maths? Not just maths, but real maths? The fun stuff?” His boyfriend was positively vibrating.
Virgil couldn’t help but grin. He placed his hands on Alex’s arms. Seriously, the man was bouncing. “I’m fine. And yes, Scott likes math. I didn’t know you liked to play, though.”
“Oh, um, sometimes.” His eyes darted back to Scott for a moment. “Usually I stick to applied math, and I’m certainly not at Tracy level.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He leant up, kissed Alex gently on the cheek and whispered in his ear. “If you can keep up with Scooter here, you’re definitely up there.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Alex brushed his fingers across Virgil’s left temple.
He let his head drop against his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m tired, but I’m fine.” He looked over at his brother. “I’m more concerned about Scott.”
But his big brother was peering at the sheets again, eyes wide. It was obvious he had thought of something.
The marker came down and scribbled another line.
“But then again, he’s resting and amused.” Virgil’s ears picked up the approach of Thunderbird Two. He looked up at Alex. “Keep him distracted a little longer?” Alex really did have dark eyes, Virgil could stare into them all day.
“Sure.”
Scott was muttering something about a polynomial.
“Thank you.” Thunderbird Two roared into land as Virgil leant up and kissed Alex, clinging just that moment longer before letting him go.
“Hey, Scooter, zero point nine to infinity still doesn’t equal one.”
“Virgil!” His brother’s outrage was echoed by Alex’s sudden ‘What?!”
Virgil just laughed as he left them to it.
Their discussion of his lunacy followed him down the hall.
-o-o-o-
TBC
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#scott tracy#alexander sweetapple#romance#sickfic#nuttyfic#virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple
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Second Death
Andromache the Scythian x f!reader
I decided to create a series for Andromache (my beloved). Here’s part 1, part 2, and part 3
Summary: Your first mission does not go according to plan
TW: Violence, major character death, somewhat descriptive gore, getting shot in the face, head explosions (kinda), ANGST
Words: around 3,000
A/N: Aside from being very difficult for me to write, this is probably the darkest I've ever gotten in terms of physical violence. So, uh, Happy Halloween I guess?
The plan was based off Buenos Aires 1822 (not 1922 as you had incorrectly assumed at first) which was a reference you obviously didn’t understand but was being explained to you in the most hectic way possible.
“Wait, so Nicky was decapitated-”
“Half decapitated. I didn’t actually die!”
“But you were quite light-headed for the rest of the day, my dear.” Joe feigned concern, brushing the back of his hand across his partner’s forehead and smiling like a fool.
Your leader was having none of it.
“Can we be serious please?” Immediately, the entire group’s focus shifted back to the Scythian. She certainly wasn’t going to admit it but she was apprehensive with this being your first mission. For months, you’d been doing nothing but training and begging her to let you in on the action until she was finally forced to give in. The instinct to keep you safe gnawed at Andy while it became increasingly difficult to ignore how your desire to prove your worth would only continue to grow. She recognized the same frustrations in a much younger version of herself and remembered how reckless it drove her to be.
“I’d rather we didn’t repeat that portion this time, agreed?”
You all nodded.
They laid out all the details about the traffickers and the group of people you were meant to rescue. It was an estimated 25-40 women and older girls being smuggled through for undoubtedly unpleasant purposes Andy didn’t get too detailed with. She, Joe, and Nico planned to storm the ship when it completely docked and most of the crew was on land retrieving supplies and weapons. That would leave only a few guards standing between them and the captives, who were most likely being held somewhere below deck. Once they find them, you and Booker would bring in the truck to help get everyone out. It sounded simple enough, but the fact that it was meant to go off without a hitch somehow doubled the amount of pressure you were applying to yourself. They had all done this at least once before, so if things went south then it was all because of you.
A few hours passed and you sat next to Booker in the passenger seat of the truck parked a couple of meters away from the ship and near a loading dock. With the engine off it was starting to get increasingly cold, but you didn’t even mind the chill at that point. You needed to be as alert as possible for what was to come.
Booker clearly sensed your apprehension. “It’s okay to be nervous, we’re not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He kept his voice low and his eyes glued on the dock entrance while you tried to do the same.
Your mind was wrapped up in much bigger concerns. “I’m not worried about that. What if something goes wrong because of me? If I get hurt then so be it, I just don’t want to endanger anyone else when their lives and freedom are at stake.”
“You’ll be fine. Trust your training and lean on your team if you need help. That’s what we’re here for.” He offered you an encouraging smile that you attempted to return the best you could, yet you also wished he wouldn’t look at you with so much sympathy all of the time. As much as you appreciated everything they had done for you, you longed to show the others that you were capable of carrying your own weight and didn’t need someone to hold your hand constantly.
The two of you settled into a silence that was occasionally filled with a comment or two about nothing in particular. It didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You watched as dozens of muscular men left in packs, each one armed with at least a pistol that Booker taught you how to spot. He translated some of the French he could hear them speaking, which was mostly crude, misogynistic banter that made your jaw clench up.
“Good to know that men are pigs in basically all cultures,” you murmured mostly to yourself and tried to get your jaw to relax. Surprisingly, it earned you a gratifying laugh from the Frenchman and you were relieved when he didn’t take your comment too personally.
“For the most part, I don’t disagree.”
“How will Andy and the others know when all of them have left?” You changed the subject upon the realization that the rest of the guard was hidden somewhere no one would see them, not even you. It was still difficult to imagine they had a better scouting position than the near-direct view you did.
“Don’t worry, they’ll know,” Booker assured you in a slightly amused tone. Some secrets were still too complicated for you to know about yet, you supposed.
Almost a half hour later, three heads eventually peered up through the shadows and Andy, Joe, and Nico lifted themselves up onto the ship. Perfectly lit by hues of the full moon, they danced towards their destination, the sheer coordination and skill reminding you of just how experienced they were. With Andy leading the pack, they silently began making their way up the vessel as a single unit. No words or other body gestures needed to be shared when they occupied the same hive mind. The group only came to a stop when they reached a door and huddled around it, trying to listen for anyone that might be on the other side. When you assumed everything was clear, Andy swiftly kicked it open and entered with her gun aimed and ready.
Not even a minute after all three filed in, the sound of a gunshot suddenly shook you. You immediately turned to Booker, whose face gave away the slightest look of concern at the noise. This must not have happened in Buenos Aires. No more gunshots followed, thank goodness, but there were sounds of a struggle going on below deck which had the two of you on high alert. You prayed that nobody else close by could hear the commotion.
Things began to steer away from the original plan when Joe emerged from below far before he should have, struggling to keep another figure under control as he held their arms in a twisted position behind their back while continuing to firmly push them forward. Even in the dark, you could just make out how young the kid appeared to be. He couldn’t have been older than 16 and you assumed his reason for being on the ship was because he had an older relative in the crew. You relaxed when you realized that meant how unlikely it was that he’d be trained in how to fight. Joe would definitely keep from harming him unless he absolutely had to. Stupidly, you also forgot about how reckless young boys can be.
Everything fell apart in a mere matter of seconds. As he appeared to calm down, Joe eased up on the grip he held the boy with and he it didn’t seem like he would move at first. But in an instant, the scraggly kid darted from his grasp and sprinted around a corner and out of your line of sight to the completely opposite side of the ship. Booker reached for the door handle as a precaution while the rest of his body remained seated. A bead of sweat rolled down your neck despite the chill in the air and the gradual understanding that Book might be preparing to leave you on your own stilled your body completely. All of the careful planning you had fought to carefully commit to memory melted into mush.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched whistle that rang through the air and your eyes quickly followed a bright red light travel up into the sky before it burst into a large display of lights and smoke. Time seemed to slow down and your heart sped up. Of course, if there wasn’t going to be another pistol going off, it had to be a goddamn flare gun. Yelling, alarmed Frenchmen could then be heard scrambling towards the dock and Booker cursed under his breath.
“Stay here, I’ll go help the others!” Booker leaped out of the vehicle, throwing the keys which hit your petrified figure. Part of you wanted to speak up and stop him but you could only squeak out an indecipherable sound of concern seconds after he was gone. Looking back at the ship, you caught sight of Nico peeking his head out from the door they entered through. He exited with a determined look on his face and was followed by a line of women. You itched at your sweating palms when twenty women or so had piled out and there was still no sign of Andy.
The men hurrying in from the opposite direction quickly diverted your attention. Squinting your eyes, you were able to spot a figure in the distance headed straight towards your vehicle. You nearly panicked but caught yourself, uncertain if you were dealing with the traffickers or possibly random dock workers that had been alarmed by the flare and merely wanted to check out the situation. Either way, you decided it was still too risky to start up the engine just yet. At least, you told yourself the others probably wouldn’t want you to give away your position.
That’s when you noticed a faint movement in your side mirror. A tuft of matted blonde curls belonging to a distressed woman’s face peeked over the top of one of the crates not to far behind you. She must’ve spotted something concerning, because her eyes went wider than a trapped mouse’s and she disappeared back down, ultimately causing the crates to shake. You ground your back teeth together and prayed it was only you who had seen her. But then right on cue, the blinding glow of a flashlight landed directly over the area where the woman was hiding. The man you had spotted only moments before, his flashlight lit up a devious grin on his face that urged you to hold in your breath. He even sounded like the devil when he spoke. It didn’t take a high level French skills to tell that he began goading the poor woman like it was some sadistic game to him.
He approached the crates ever so slowly, savoring the anticipation which laid before whatever unspeakable plans he had for his victim. It then occurred to you that she was most likely paralyzed with the same fear that had struck you.
And yet, she was the one currently being hunted while you were poised to sit and watch it unfold. You, protected by both your position and inexplicable gift of immortality. None of it seemed remotely fair and your body began to stir at the simple thought.
“Under no circumstances should you be engaging in combat,” Andy had firmly laid down the law several times leading up to this day. You’d never wanted to disobey anything she said so passionately before and here it felt like you scarcely had no other option but to go against something she forbade.
The adrenaline rushing through your veins threw your body into action before you could debate any further. Barely aware of the forces taking hold of you, you tumbled out of the door and landed directly behind the attacker who continued to stalk forward towards the woman’s hiding place. He slowly began to raise his gun, something with barrels much longer than your forearms, and it was like you didn’t have the time to properly assess whatever danger lie at the other end. You just didn’t want it pointing at her.
Without a hint of hesitation, you drove foot into the back of the man’s left knee and he immediately crumbled down to about a third of his height. You were ready for him with your knife once his face spun around and an overpowering sense of rage guided your arm to make a clean cut from just below his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and finally through the center of his left eye.
Something solid and heavy smacked the front of your head and you could hear the woman behind you scream in horror before everything went black.
Horrific violence was nothing if not a sheer constant to Andy. She had both experienced and caused enough to fill the oceans with blood, yet nothing made her seethe with rage more than watching yours spill from your head like a geyser. A thousand lifetimes stained with death could not have prepared her for the sight of your limp body hitting the ground, to which there was no question as to whether or not you were dead. Even if you had been wearing some type of protective head gear, a shotgun firing within five inches of your face would have been fatal.
She was usually a pro at keeping her emotions under control until the mission was completed and never steered away from the plan without first calculating the absolute best course of action. The other teammates she had and the terrified group of women she was meant to protect called upon her to uphold her position as the leader, a task she had shouldered over a million times before despite whatever her personal feelings demanded. Absolutely none of that mattered now. Getting to you, killing that bastard, and wrapping you up in your arms became the only course of action she was capable of taking.
Her first priority was taking out the son of a bitch that dared to touch you before anyone else got hurt. She handed off the little girl she had been carrying to Nico before barreling over a crate and launching herself over the side of the ship, rolling smoothly to break her fall when she hit the the dock.
Despite how fast she ran, she seemed to move at a cursedly slow pace. She was still too quick for the man, his blood leaking from the fresh gash you had tore across his face, to notice her. He didn’t even get a chance to run before the warrior drove her labrys straight into the already-open wound. Andy could only revel in the brief taste of satisfaction for a moment before her emotions began swarming once again, the anger she had held for that man was now aimed solely at herself.
“Booker, get her into the back!” She barked at the Frenchman to take care of the hostage still hiding while rushing over to where your body collapsed. Up close, the sight was even more gruesome as blood, flesh, and bone were splattered all across what used to be your face. It would have been generous to call what was left of everything above your neck a simple stump. She knew she needed to get you out of there fast but hated to leave behind any parts of your head that might have been salvageable. Even saving something like an ear or significant chunk of your skull could aid in speeding up the healing process. She knew it would be excruciatingly painful for you to grow back yourself.
She desperately grabbed at fistful of what she hoped was your brain before scooping you up in her arms. It was the fact that you were so much lighter than usual which made her wince, though she couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved when it meant it allowed her to run faster on her feet. Cautious yet quick, Andy made a beeline for the passenger’s seat of the truck and cradled your body in her arms while you continued to bleed out. It wasn’t a sight she wanted any of the hostages to witness and it’s not like she was letting go of you anytime soon anyway.
“Drive!” One word was all she needed to command whomever was at the steering wheel to get out of there as fast as possible. It didn’t even occur to her to look up and check to see who she was sitting next to, as she immediately began trying to pick up any movement in your chest or a sign of a pulse in your wrist, anything that indicated the resurrection process was in motion.
“Please, please, come back to me,” she pleaded as your warm blood began to pool across her lap.
“Give her a second.” She realized it was Booker currently driving. “It’s only her second time and will probably take longer than expected.”
The women they had freed were now crammed together once again, only this time being in the back of a dark loading truck as it sped through the dead of night was probably far more merciful than them being forced to witness the transformation you were currently undergoing. Andy, however, couldn’t tear a single string of her attention away from you throughout the entire process.
Each noise you made followed by the eventual cries of her name from your lips, once your mouth and airways had completely reformed, tore at Andromache deeper and deeper, in ways that no physical pain she had ever endured could compare. She bit down on her tongue till it was bloody as you repetitively squeezed her hand throughout the entire process. The same ones you often used to delicately recreate precious moments on paper broke more than a few of her bones. But Andy barely noticed and didn’t have the capacity to care. All she was focused on was you.
For the first time in centuries, the Scythian invoked the words of an ancient prayer and resurrected a long dead language as she tried to soothe your pain. She stopped believing in a higher power a long time ago but couldn’t shake the truth that repeating those words made her feel anchored to something even larger than her life or her immortality. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t try if it might possibly bring you a sense of comfort, which she actually prayed may happen.
#andromache the scythian x reader#andy the scythian x reader#andromache of scythia#the old guard#one shot#andy the scythian#the old guard x reader#andy#andy x reader#andromache x reader#angst#Charlize Theron characters
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A New Home Ch. 27
Various! Splatoon Manga x Skilled! Isekai'd! Reader
Wc: 1.1k
A/N: Sorry for taking so long chat I had to walk my fish
A/N 2: (Checks watch) uh. Damn sorry ya'll. Don't expect too much out of me but I think my life should be a lil less hectic perchance. We'll see ww
Back to the Start! Previous Next
One by one, over the course of a few hours, you each put the blindfold on and attempted to hit your teammates. The difficulty increased as you went on, from standing still to slowly moving, to running. By the end of the training session, you had multiple teammates whizzing past each other in different directions getting splatted.
As the four of you sat near or against the wall to catch your breath, you congratulated them on their improvement.
"I can't really put into words how impressed I am, nor will I admit I'm a poet at all. But I will say this; what you guys showed me today was something I never thought was possible when I got here," You spot Leo's smile grow wider, glad to be getting praised for his efforts, then you lazily point at him, "Hey, that doesn't mean that you can slack off now, you dork. Don't forget that there's going to be loud music, bombs, people cheering, ink being thrown around, not to mention communication between teammates that'll make this 100x harder."
You take another glance at each of your teammates. - No. - Your family members.
"...But I can promise that this will be worth it. Every time we train, great progress is shown."
...You sure are good with compliment sandwiches, huh?
You can't promise that you'll win against team Emperor, but you're sure that every minute you spend training will prove helpful on the battlefield.
You're all exhausted from training and just on time. The next big match is going to begin in roughly a half hour. The battle between Team Monarch and Team Yellow-Green. The manga had skipped how much time was spent between important matches on the smaller, less important matches. You allow your family to relax however they so desire while you wait for the match to begin. Leo playing games on his phone, Milo stretching, and Tasha cleaning her weapon.
Soon, it's time to make your way over to Sturgeon Shipyard, biting your inner cheek as you realize how packed the seats are. What you weren't expecting, though, was for a path to seemingly be made as you walked through. You tried to avoid the many pairs of eyes on you. It almost felt like back when you first got here and rose the ranks, but the gazes were much more uncomfortable back then. The whispers paired with them used to be much more curious and sometimes rude. You almost cringed remembering those salty players you had to drown out with your headphones what feels like forever ago. But now; you take a quick look around you, - they almost seem to be staring in awe.
You glance back at your team. You wouldn't say you're standing tall, maybe a more introverted kind of confidence if that makes sense. You're still not a fan of being the center of attention. But looking back at your team- your family- a lot sure has changed.
Once you begin to settle down in your seats, doing your best to take up the least amount of room possible, you catch the way the sea of cehalopods appear to disperse yet again. This time much more obviously. From your position, it isn't too difficult to see who it was, easily spotting purple tentacles above the crowd as the tallest of the group makes his way closer.
Aloha's quick to tug you into a hug before you can sit down, dabbing Leo up before taking a seat behind you. You don't remember them being here to watch this match last time, which is odd to you. Skull's got a lollipop in hand, sitting behind Milo after being instructed by Army to do so. He does so without questioning, as airheaded as ever- but Army has a reason, given the heights of the two inklings. Army takes a seat behind Leo, and Mask - you.
You would have jumped if you hadn't noticed Aloha slowly get closer to you ear, attempting to surprise you.
"Sooo~, how's the training goin'?"
You're about to answer, but the immediate terrified look Leo shoots his way almost makes you snicker.
"Hey, it's not that bad. C'mon now."
Leo once again turns towards Aloha and dramatically grabs his hand with both of his,
"Save us, dude!"
You let out a chuckle at the scene.
"Leo, chill."
His hands shoot up in the air, and his voice cracks as he tries to make his point.
"You blindfolded us!"
"Which isn't that bad!"
He faces Aloha again,
"You have no idea how much pain I'm in."
You gently nudge his side as another chuckle escapes you, shaking your head.
Leo dramatically points to where you gently nudged him,
"See?! Abuse!!!"
Aloha's forced into a fit of giggles as he watched the scene play out before him.
"Oh, can it, dork."
"I think I deserve some sort of reciprocation!"
You sigh and roll your eyes. You rest your chin in your palm. This was most definitely his plan all along.
Aloha leans down once again, this time whispering to Leo. Obviously, you could still hear him;
"Don't worry bro, I'll set something up for you."
You've got no idea what that means, but they dab eachother up again. Whatever makes Leo happy, you suppose.
The match is about to begin, and you hear Goggles blabbing away to his team a few feet in front of you. You ignore it as you pull out a pencil, along with your old manual. You're nearing the end of the pages, and it has clearly done its time by now. But this match is crucial to be taking notes of since you'll get to see a new emotion in Emperor- frustration. As long as it goes as planned, of course. You analyze the stage, zeroing in on the exact spot that Emperor will step foot in yellow-green ink.
Once it begins, a smile filled with pride makes its way across your face. Rider obviously had many, many plans for this battle. It was almost comforting seeing the wide grin he wore all along the match, even when he did lose. He was having fun. It seems you're not the only one who's changed lots since the beginning of the manga. He was so organized right out of the gate, and only once did he falter, and only a little at that. Which lead you to assume his only goal the whole time wasn't to win, because he knew he couldn't- his end goal was to only force Emperor to feel the frustration of stepping in his ink.
Maybe, just maybe, you think: Rider truly did stand a chance at winning against Emperor if he so chose to have that as his end goal. How does that saying go? Shoot for the moon, land among the stars?
.
.
.
Next part
Feb.1.24
#splatoon manga#splatoon manga x reader#splatoon manga rider#splatoon manga emperor#coroika x reader#x reader#fanfic#splatoon#splatoon 2#splatoon manga army#splatoon manga skull#splatoon manga aloha#splatoon manga mask#coroika#splatoon 3#splatoon 2 x reader#splatoon manga goggles
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What a long day. A good day! But a very long one. It was the first farmers market of the season! It was my first event back at the museum!!
I didn't sleep amazing last night. After I got Sylvia midnight bottle I fell asleep and she woke me up at 130 to eat. And I had to wrestle her hand to get the bottle in her mouth. But she ate and I was able to go back to sleep until 7.
I got up and dressed. I had already packed my bag for the day so I just needed to get my phone and my drink. I was happy to see James and baby. It was a good day.
Even if when we went to the car and we found that James had forgotten to lock it and someone went through the glove compartment. There's nothing worth stealing really but they took my bag of cheese puffs!!! Rude! I was gonna eat those. Whatever. Could have been worse.
I was excited to show Sylvia off. She's the best baby in the whole world. And she continued to be so today.
But when we got to the museum there was glass all over the pavilion! The storm last night broke a window in the upper part of the pavilion and it shattered and went everywhere. So the first half hour we were there was all hands cleaning up glass. Me and Sylvia stayed out of the way. I fed her her bottle and introduced her to people.
We did get set up. My new display was missing something and I think it's just like one more basket. Possibly for my surprise bags. I did not have any of those today but I will make sure I do next week. I even had someone ask for one! I felt bad that I had to tell them I did not have any available today.
James was still helping with the glass and getting our community interest person set up. So I went to Ginny myself and got a sandwich on a biscuit. And a few snacks for later.
Sylvia was such a good baby. She had 4 naps, two bottles, and two diapers changes throughout the morning. She would just be comfortably in her chair. Sometimes I held her. Eventually I wore her in my rainbow wrap for a little while. We would visit James inside. And just have a fun day.
I worked on my embroidery for a while
I am making great progress. I have totally finished one beetle and I am almost done a second. I have decided that when a lawyer is done I am going to remove the machine stitching and I have done that for one and I like it a million times more. Absolutely the correct move. I am really excited for how this project is coming together.
I had some lovely conversations today too. Just about art and the harbor and being a new mom. I made mom friends! I got invited to a play group. I even got a phone number from a really cool mom named Meredith. I am going to try very hard to follow through because she seemed awesome.
I made good sales. My bear tarot cards are a hit. I sold a few singles and two full decks! I need to remember to bring more small plastic bags for them for when people buy the full thing. Or even just a few. Keep them neat.
I also sold some plushies. And it was a good day. I felt happy with my baby. I felt happy with the weather. I was just having a great time.
Celia would come visit. She never gets to come to our farmers market because she works at the park on Saturday. But she was working a night program so she didn't have to be in until 2 and came by to hang out. Got some baked goods. Sat on the floor and played with Sylvia.
Sylvia was smiling a lot today. It seemed very on purpose and that was great. She also possibly laughed for the first time??? It sounded like a laugh to me. I hope she keeps doing that. Love her so much.
We wrapped up at 1. Celia watched Sylvie while I loaded the car. And then she helped me carry my totebags into the museum. Should I carry Sylvia while she's in the chair? No. But yet... She was fine. I'm the mom I can do whatever I think is safe.
Celia left to go to work. And I went to sit with James for a little bit before leaving them and baby to go for a walk to get lunch.
I had really wanted ekiben. I had had their tofu nuggets at the Flower Mart and it's like half the price of the bowl and honestly I like it better. So I was happy to get that.
Turns out I like it better room temperature. I would eat some when I got back to the museum and have the rest for dinner a few hours later and it was so good the second time. Good to know for the future.
I sat in the catering bay with my embroidery and waited for the caterers to come. But I ran out of floss so I went back to the desk. Hung out with James and Jesse and Sylvie. Got some updates from Jesse about procedure stuff. Not much had changed. I needed to be reminded about some light switches but overall I was feeling ready.
Though I did forget my key and my name tag. So I wore the one I had made for Sylvia. No one's going to care what my name is for tonight. Just need to look like I work here.
I was a little anxious about what I was wearing. I love this jumpsuit but I wasn't sure if it was cool for me to wear a tank top at work. It just feels wrong. I kept double checking with Jesse about wardrobe. Cause I also had sandals on. And I was like. Is this cool? And he said as long as I was professional it was alright. But I just kept feeling like God was going to be mad that he could see my shoulders. Very ingrained from school. I had a denim shirt with me but I was so hot I couldn't wear it. And I just had to be okay with my shoulders being out for the world to see.
And really it's been a great night. James would have Sylvie for a while. I would carry her around for a while. She was a little fussy but she had a full day already and just wanted mama to hold her. I get it!! I did my best to cuddle her.
James left to go see Tucker. Who is awake and talking but is sad. Low spirits for sure. But hopeful I think.
The wedding has been fun. The ceremony was good. Jesse left after cocktail hour started. We chatted for a while first. I had been doing some recon for union stuff. So it was just a positive day.
I had a great time overall this evening. Talking to catering and the DJ. Just absolutely chatting people ears off because I'm passionate about many topics. And just enjoying embroidering and having snacks.
We did have some hiccups with food. I had my leftover ekiben and my baked goods from Ginny so I was solid. But my poor educators did not have dinner because catering didn't consider them vendors. So all the other vendors had food but not mine and I am sure I annoyed the shit out of Kim the catering manager. But more over there are a lot of Chinese speaking family members and this is a 200 person wedding so it was just a lot. So my staff did not get dinner. And I felt bad but they went home and I promised to make a note about it so that it doesn't happen again.
Kim would bring me their savory bread pudding and it was so good I had to go and find their head chef to tell him how good it was. He got a big smile on his face.
Also guys I don't know why but I can't stop cursing today??? It's been nonstop and I don't normally curse like that. Weird behavior on my part. Stop that.
The party is almost over. And I've had a good time. I just got some ice cream and it's taharka which is a local company. I was only going to try strawberry but the catering girls said to try the honey graham crackers. And I took a bite and literally had to stop because it was so good. Like wildly, shockingly good?? I will be chasing this flavor for a long time I am sure.
I am now encouraging people to take extra flowers and wishing people well as we wrap up the party. I am tired but now unpleasantly so. I hope sleep is easy tonight.
James is going to come get me at the end of the party after clean up. I feel bad that Sylvia will have to get out of bed and come too but hopefully we can all just get home and back to sleep quickly.
Tomorrow I'm going to go visit Jess to go to some community yard sales. I am really looking forward to seeing her. I really hope I am not wildly tired. That would be a bummer. So fingers crossed.
I hope you all have a good night tonight. Sleep well! Be safe!!
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Temptation |Taehyun AU| (Part 4)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6
I got a good night's sleep for once and a while. When I woke up I got ready quickly wanting to leave as face as I could. I walked downstairs and started on the dough I took my time making the dough so I didn't mess up. I left it on the counter and walked outside. I quickly made my way to the clearing. I tried to recall all the steps I made before. After a half hour, I saw what I was looking for. I smiled and ran to the patch of flowers were I saw the boy with blue hair. I looked around and didn't see him. I frowned finding things too good to be true. I sat down deciding to at least admire the flowers. I sat down and picked the flowers around me to make a flower crown.
"Boo," Someone said from behind me.
I jumped about to scream before the person put their hand on my mouth. I looked and saw the guy from yesterday laughing. I frowned pushing his hand off of my face.
"It's not funny you know"
"You should've seen your face." He continued to laugh.
"You're so mean" I crossed my arms.
"I didn't think you'd come back," He said sitting next to me.
"Same with you," I said looking at him.
"Why'd you come back then?" He asked picking flowers.
"Just wanted to" I shrugged.
"I think it's because you wanted to see me," He said leaning over.
"As if," I said pushing his head away smiling.
"Mhm sure" he teased.
"I just really like flowers."
"It is a pretty place" He smiled leaning back with his hands holding him up.
"I got in trouble last night," I said laying on the ground.
"For what?"
"Yesterday I wasn't supposed to be here so in a way I snuck out."
"Well, why are you here now?" He asked.
"I have rules to follow to be here so it's an agreement of some sort that my dad made up," I said looking at the sky. "I have to make the dough in the morning and clean up at night"
"Dough?"
"My family owns a bakery in my village so I pitch in to help."
"Interesting," He said weaving the flowers through each stem. "What's your village like?"
"Boring and it can be annoying or fun"
"What do you mean like that?"
"Well it's not as colorful or more calming than here and they always gossip about random stuff." I sighed. "I'll be a victim of gossip when people see me go into the woods."
"Why do people not go in the woods? It's strange to me" he said laying down himself.
"You tell me" I sighed. "Guess because it looks gloomy and creepy. "It's scary at night"
"Well, whatever they say I wouldn't listen to what they say."
"I don't plan to," I said. "No matter what I'm always coming back."
"Why's that?"
"For once in my life I have someone to talk to"
"Me too" Taehyun smiled looking at the clouds. "Look it's a dog"
"Really?" I asked before he let out a little laugh.
"The cloud" He pointed to one of the clouds.
"It does. I never took time to appreciate the sky" I said before pointing at a cloud. "It looks like a bunny!"
"Are you sure? It looks like a duck"
"Find your own cloud to criticize. It's a bunny"
"Okay sure," He said jokingly rolling his eyes.
I smiled looking over at him. His smile was contagious and his eyes were gleaming. He turned and looked at me. I quickly looked away as he chuckled shaking his head and smiling. For the rest of the day, we watched the clouds go by pointing at different ones and arguing about the shape it is.
"Let's watch the sunset," I said looking forward.
"Don't you have to go home? It's getting late"
"I'll be fine don't worry" I looked at him. "It'll be worth it"
"Are you sure?" He asked worriedly.
"Mhm, when it's dark I can still see with my handy lamp," I said patting the object.
"Alright," He smiled giving in.
We sat as the sun slowly set the golden hour made everything look pretty. Once it was fully set I turned the lamp on Taehyun held his hand out to help me up which I took. I brushed myself off with my hand and looked at Taehyun.
"See you tomorrow" I smiled.
"Wait," He said grabbing my wrist. "Let me walk you back.
"You don't have to I'll be fine" I smiled gently.
"Fine I'll just follow you to make sure you're safe"
"That's creepy"
"I didn't mean for it to sound like that" He laughed. "But in all seriousness let me walk you to at least the halfway point"
"Alright alright," I said rolling my eyes.
"Don't act like you wouldn't get scared" He said. "You probably are now"
"You have no idea what you're talking about" The bush rattled and I jumped hiding behind Taehyun.
"Wow scared of a bunny?"
"Shut up," I said looking away as he walked me back.
"So do you want me to fully escort you out of the woods?"
"Yes please" I mumbled.
"What would you do without me" he teased.
"I'm good from here I swear I just don't want anyone to see you," I said seeing the village.
"Alright, see ya," He said.
"Bye," I smiled and ran home.
It wasn't that late and they never gave me a curfew so I snuck in. I looked around and this time nobody was around. I quickly went to work cleaning the bakery and even the kitchen. I had to make sure I did what my parents wanted me to do so I could see Taehyun. I walked upstairs and saw my parents sleeping early knowing I would be the one cleaning. I went to my room to change closing the windows and the curtains. I lay in bed smiling about seeing the clouds in a new view thanks to Taehyun.
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