#but yeah well some feedback would mean the world of course :)
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posted a little wanksgiving 2024 thing for the sias/cott era and beaches enthusiasts :)
#milex#miles kane#alex turner#sias era#cott era#wanksgiving 2024#it will remain anonymous 'til december 5th but well. there it goes#quite proud of this one 'cause i feel like my true(?) writing just bloomed again. don't mind me i'm just being awkward#but yeah well some feedback would mean the world of course :)#jules.rar
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Not Actually Together
Charles Leclerc X Reader
Genre: faking dating au!
Warnings: none atm
Word Count: 1.4K
Author's Note: I have not written a part two for this, so idk when or if a part two will ever come out. other than that enjoy ;) <3 I also feel like this really stupid, please give any feedback
part 2
----------------------
“Hey, can I speak to you?” Charles questioned from across the room as he made his way towards you through the motorhome, “privately please.”
“Of course,” you answered, following after Charles, going to his private suite. After the two of you entered the room, shutting the door on the rest of the world, “what would you like to talk about?” You smile sweetly as you ask Charles.
Charles forgets for a moment what he wanted to ask, you smiled and he forgot how to breathe, let alone speak. “What do you think of her?” Charles asked, still looking at you but, pushing his phone forward. Showing you a picture of some girl, “her name is Alexandra.”
“She’s pretty,” you answered, still smiling so sweetly at Charles, “Did she make a move on you?”
Charles looks back at the photo on his phone. “Yeah she did,” Charles spoke hesitantly, cautiously looking back at you. Looking for any sign of ire.
“Are you asking for my permission to go after her?” You question with a small chuckle, Charles was quite cute when he was nervous.
“I…” Charles sighed, “I just wanted to know what your thoughts were.” Charles looks at the picture of Alexandra on his phone in front of him. She was certainly quite beautiful, she was most definitely his type. Why does he have such an uneasy feeling though?
“Charles, this is only for the public. We’re not actually together, if you wanna go date her, then go, do it. I’m not holding you to this fake relationship.” You said, with a bit of a laugh, trying to mask the tiny bit of heartbreak you were feeling. Charles was never yours to begin with, there is no reason to pretend he is.
“Are you sure?” Charles wanted you to stop him. He wanted you to hold him to this relationship. He wanted you to disapprove. He wanted you to tell him no. But he knew you wouldn’t do that to him. You’re only going to do what you think makes him happy.
“Charles, we’re only in this predicament because you don’t have the best track record when picking girls. So the team picked me for you, that way your fans will actually like your girlfriend. This is simply because the team wants it. This isn’t real, go ask Alex out.” You say it so casually, Charles loathes the way you push him towards Alexandra. He wants you to fight, he wants you to be jealous, he wants you to want him.
“Thank you…” Charles says looking back at the photo displayed on his phone. He looks at Alexandra, and he thinks maybe it’s time to move on. “For your permission, thank you,” Charles says grateful, he pulls you into a hug, kissing you on the temple.
When you finally pull away from his embrace you say, “just don’t make me look like a fool.”
Charles chuckles at the request, “what do you mean?”
“Don’t be flaunting Alex all around,” you say, in a very serious tone. You look at Charles squarely this time, you want him to understand you completely. “I don’t mean to be cocky or egotistical, but I play a fucking good girlfriend to you for the public. So don’t be flaunting Alex all around, making me look like the stupid little naive girl that everyone knows is getting cheated on.”
Charles nods along, “I wouldn’t do that to you.” He can’t imagine anyone wanting to cheat if they were with you, “I promise I won’t do that to you.”
“Thank you,” you say earnestly. Even if the intimate relationship wasn’t real, the respect and the friendship you and Charles have built, is authentic.
“Why don’t you go out with someone too?” Charles asks, curious as to why in these past six months of faking a relationship you never brought up anyone.
“Well there is this guy that I have a thing for,” you say honestly.
“Why don’t we go on a double date, that way fans won’t get suspicious?”
“No no,” you laugh at the request, “this guy has no feelings for me whatsoever.”
“And how do you know that?”
“We talked about it before,” you half-lie, you weren’t exactly fully truthful when you ‘talked about it.’
“Well, let’s look for someone, for you,” Charles says, completely serious about the notion. Maybe if you’re with someone too, it would be easier to let you go.
“No,” you laugh more, you don’t think you’ve ever heard such a ridiculous idea, “no way.”
Charles laughs at your dismissiveness of the situation, “what about Pierre?”
“I’m sure Pierre is very serious about Kika,” you say, with a bit of a chuckle at how serious Charles is acting about finding someone to set you up with.
“Well I’m gonna find you someone, I can assure you,” Charles declares, almost like it was an official notion. “I have to go down for a briefing, then I'll be back and we can go out to dinner tonight.”
“Put on a show for the fans tonight?” you question, watching Charles.
“Of course, my dear,” Charles says overdramatically with a wink, before walking out.
After Charles leaves, you feel your smile fall. You want to laugh at yourself for thinking Charles could have wanted you. The tears start to brim your eyes and you can’t help but thinking you did this to yourself. You allowed yourself to be in this predicament, so now you must live with it. Just until the season ends, that’s what you tell yourself. Six more months, give or take.
-
“Hey,” Carlos said, trying to get his teammates' attention, “why so…” Carlos makes an over exaggerated frowny face at Charles.
“I don’t know,” Charles said, still replaying his earlier conversation with you. He tries to find any sign of anything from you. He dissects every word you utter, he questions every thought spoken, he searches for any inclination that you might’ve lied.
“Did you speak to y/n about Alex?”
“I did,” Charles answers, not expounding on his response.
“She said no?”
“No,” Charles says with a certain level of surprise, “She said okay.”
“Great, that’s what you wanted,” Carlos says, “right? That is what you wanted?” Carlos has a feeling that this isn’t what Charles wanted, but it’s really not his place to say.
“It is,” Charles sighs, “but I don’t know something about y/n being so okay with it, it bothers me.” Charles got up and started to pace, while Carlos decided to take a seat, watching his teammate work through this. “Did you know there’s someone that she's interested in?”
“Y/n?” Carlos questions just to be sure, “don’t tell me that’s bothering you.”
“No, it’s not,” Charles says, half trying to convince Carlos, the other half trying to convince himself. “It’s just, y/n said that he’s not interested in her. I mean how can someone not be interested in y/n, she's crazy smart. She’s so kind. Did you know at this past Monaco grand prix, she helped collect gifts from the fans to give to me? She knows how to cook, and not to mention she’s bloody beautiful.” Charles says with a full grin, as he thinks about you. He can picture you clearly, he has memorized every little detail of your face, down to the way you scrunch your nose when you don’t want to laugh at his horrible jokes.
Carlos laughs at his blind teammate, “clearly, you’re not really interested in Alex.”
Charles sighs again, “I thought if I had brought up Alex to y/n, she would give me some type of sign that she was into me, like i’m into her,” he confesses to Carlos. “I thought maybe, I could get a reaction or something,” Charles shakes his head at himself, he can hear how stupid he sounds without Carlos pointing it out for him.
Carlos has never wanted to slap someone, as much as he wants to slap Charles. Carlos runs his hands across his face, “that is the most singularly stupidest idea I have ever heard, and I have heard our race strategies before. Why didn’t you just outright ask y/n if she liked you?”
“I didn’t want to be so obvious about it,” Charles shrugs, “Plus it's better this way, she already said she’s interested in someone else. Not to mention I have tried for the past six months to turn this into a real relationship, this is just me finally moving on. I deserve to move on don’t I?”
“Of course you deserve to move on Charles,” Carlos sighs, “but do you even want to move on, or do you think you have to?”
Charles doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how to respond even if he wanted to.
#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 au#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#formula one
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⭑ Separate Worlds, Chapter One ⭑
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Michael Gavey x Popular!rich!reader
A/N: It took a while as I wanted to write some chapters ahead but the first part of my first longer fanfiction is here! Please give me feedback I need to know if it's any good :)
Summary: Living two completely separate lives you and Michael had never really crossed paths and you’ve never really looked at him before. But when your worlds collide, affections arise.
Word count: 1.8k
Wednesday, October 12th 2006
The sound of rain hitting your thin single paned window woke you from your usual noon nap. Waking up with a groan, you checked your watch. A beautiful watch from Cartier, one you’ve always wanted. Another gift from your beloved father, who would rather send you gifts to apologise than actually say the words. He would once again miss your birthday, this year he would fly to Turkey, for a 'very important business trip'.
You didn’t even care where the fucker would run away to this time, he’d do anything to get away from your mum, and from your family. Anytime you would meet someone and tell them your name they’d immediately perk up, your family was quite an old one and when the first cars were invented your ancestor was there, right with Benz himself. In current day your father ran the family company, manufacturing and transporting cars all over the world, and soon your brother would join him.
You never had much of a thing for cars, but luckily for you your older brother did. He wasn’t going to be there either though. He was accepted into Harvard, and was currently studying abroad in America. A loud knock fully awakened you and you rose from your bed, you were so tired you didn’t even change into comfier clothes, you just napped in your cute fall outfit of the day instead.
Opening the door, Farleigh almost immediately bursted into your room. He seemed angry, but he usually was. You met him in your first year, of course upon hearing your name called on in a lecture, he partnered up with you after class. So your first project was with him, he was nice enough but sometimes he could be really annoying and above himself.
You took a deep breath as Farleigh made himself comfortable in your bed, you did not have the energy to tell him to sit on the couch instead so you silently joined him, waiting for him to start his rant. “So? What happened?” You asked, since he was still moping on your bed in silence. “That fucking rat Oliver! He lends his bike to Felix ONCE and now they’re besties! He is literally a dirt poor cunt that has no personality or anything interesting about him!”
Great so that’s what this was going to be. “Christ Far, what did he do?” You had to hold back a chuckle, you felt bad for him but when Farleigh was mad he made this really funny face. “Don’t fucking laugh! It’s not funny! You know how Felix and I were going to go to that new coffee place that just opened, and you and Eloise were going to join us after your maths class? Well fuck that apparently! Because Felix just messaged me that Oliver and him are doing an assignment together and he had to cancel!”
“Don’t get me wrong Far, that really sucks but if it’s for school I don’t really-” He cut you off before you could even explain yourself. “The fucking assignment is not until next monday! It’s wednesday for fucks sake!” You so did not have energy for this. “Okay Far, please calm down, if you do think that Oliver is doing it on purpose the last thing you want is to give him the satisfaction of pissing you off. Just stay calm about this and we’ll ask if Maisie is free this afternoon to join us.”
Farleigh seemed to cool off and now instead looked a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry for barging in like this, didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll message Maisie then, grab a coffee with me? As an apology for waking you up?” You gave him a smile and nodded. “Let’s drink it in the library, it’ll be so cosy with the rain and I need to finish some homework really quick before maths today. Should I message Eloise if she wants in?”
“Yeah sounds good, put on your shoes and let's go!” Farleigh was all back to his normal energised self again and you did as he said. Eloise replied that she would join you later. You and Farleigh jogged to the library, him with your coffee’s and you trying to hold the umbrella over both of your heads. Both of you couldn’t help but giggle as Farleigh almost spilled the coffee at the entrance, while you shook off the umbrella.
You both strolled in and walked over to a free table in the back, with a big beautiful window that showed the autumn weather outside. Farleigh slid over your iced coffee to you while he drank his hot cappuccino with way too much sugar. Farleigh grabbed his laptop to work on some essay he had due tonight and you grabbed your maths homework. After about thirty minutes of work, you both couldn’t help but talk about Eloise’s new boyfriend.
A loud snort accidently left your lips when Farleigh imitated the poor boy's smile, which was all teeth and kind of creepy, when you flinched at the sight of a guy peering at the two of you behind a bookshelf. Farleigh’s brow furrowed and he turned to see what you were looking at behind him. Once he saw the guy he turned back to you and mouthed ‘what the fuck?’ which made you laugh again.
This seemed to be the final straw for the guy and he walked over. “Could the two of you shut up. You do realise that this is a library? People are trying to actually study.” The guy sneered. You looked at him with wide eyes, where had you seen him before? He didn’t seem like the guy to take literature…also not any of your other classes- oh… Maths. You definitely saw him there.
You’ve never really looked at him before. He was quite handsome if you took away the classes, khaki pants, tucked in blouse and the keys hanging from his belt, not bad. Farleigh spoke up before you could apologise. “Aren't you the guy who screamed at Oliver during O week?” He looked at the guy with an expression you knew all too well, he was about to rip this guy a new one. And of course the poor guy’s face goes red as a tomato.
You felt bad and gave Farleigh a look, anything to stop this awful moment. Luckily Farleigh gave it a rest and the guy opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. He walked away instead. “What the actual fuck was that.” You laughed, the whole interaction was absurd. “I have no idea- Oh, El just messaged me. She is… on her way and will be here soon.” Farleigh read as he scanned his eyes over his phone.
“Good, but don’t make that face again in front of her. It’ll only start something between the two of you." Then your eyes noticed something, the guy from just now, sitting all alone, fervently writing down notes. Hm, kind of sad. Only five minutes later did Eloise stumble into the library, dripping wet, with her books under her coat. “Fuck me, that rain is just getting worse.” She said a little loudly as she dropped her books on the table. Earning a look from that guy from before.
“You don’t have an umbrella?” Farleigh chuckled. “No I don’t, who remembers to bring an umbrella to uni?” She scoffed. You raised your brows and smiled at Farleigh. He laughed and Eloise sat down, copying some of your already finished homework. “Hurry up, we only have ten minutes until maths start.”
“Yeah yeah I’ll be quick. I can easily do this in five and then we be there ‘bout three minutes before, that’s plenty of time.” You rolled your eyes and watched as Eloise hurriedly scrabbled on the paper. When she was done, Farleigh went back to his dorm to watch a movie, while you and Eloise headed the other way to maths, laughing when she saw you open the umbrella for the two of you.
Eloise always preferred to sit in the back, so that’s where you went. Felix and Oliver were already there. To be honest you didn’t know if you liked Oliver just yet, he hadn’t been around for long but you just got weird vibes from him. But if Felix liked you that’s all it takes to ‘get in’. You hadn’t realised when you were walking in front of Eloise that you would be seated right next to Felix.
You didn’t mind him, but he had this sort of weird thing with girls. As if he needed to prove to himself that he could get anyone, except for you. You had no interest in him, you were more the type to have a friendship and deep connection with someone rather than hooking up. But that was exactly what Felix was, a quick fuck. You gave him an awkward smile when he grinned at you, and a small nod from Oliver.
Time for small talk was impossible as your professor already cleared his throat, silencing the hall. But for some reason your eyes were scanning the room. That kind of looked like- oh, nope not him. He kind of looks similar- also not him, oh, there he is. All the way to the bottom left. You instantly recognised that nose, that jaw, his soft blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes- okay, that was a lot. You had no idea what overcame you but you would definitely be thinking about him later, when you were alone. And it was the daydreams of him that got you through the boring lecture.
Thursday, October 13th 2006
‘Saying what you gon’ do to me’ ‘But I ain’t seen nothing’ ‘Typical ain’t hardly the type I fall for’ ‘I like when the physical-’ You were so engrossed in the song coming from your headphones that you bumped into someone. Oh god- it was him. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you ripped your headphones out of your ears. “Whatever.” He mumbled, about to just step around you and move along into the building but you stopped him, grabbing his arm. Which made him turn around and look at you surprised.
“I’m so sorry about yesterday, I wanted to apologise then, but Farleigh can be so rude.” You smiled. He didn’t respond but looked at your hand on his arm instead, which you then quickly let go. “Uhm, what’s your name?” His mouth was slightly opened as he stumbled out, “M-Michael Gavey.” He stuck out his hand and you shook it as you told him your name. “Nice to meet you Michael, and again so sorry about yesterday.” He only nodded and then walked away. You subconsciously smiled and put your headphones back in, heading to your next lecture of the day.
#michael gavey x fem reader smut#michael gavey x fem reader#michael gavey x reader smut#michael gavey x reader#saltburn fanfic#saltburn smut#michael gavey saltburn
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NOTES — JESS MARIANO
based on a request
masterlist
pairing: jess mariano x reader
description: after months of mutual pining, jess arrives at luke’s having read your favourite novel. oh, and he has some notes.
warnings: swearing, jokey sexual reference, other than that just tooth rotting fluff vibes
author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i loved it sm i had to immediately start writing!!! i hope it does jess justice — i love writing him so much. i may go back and edit some bits im not 100% happy with — but i hope you enjoy!!!
pleaaaaase let me know what you think — i love love love reading you guys’ feedback <3
———
“I finished it.”
If you were anyone else, you’d have jumped out of your skin at the sudden, and rather loud, appearance of someone beside you.
But this was you, and it was Jess, so you were more than used to your ‘peaceful’ study sessions at Luke’s being interrupted by his ever-present smirk, his flirting and his endless supply of smartarse comments.
Not that you could complain.
You’d grown used to his omnipresence over a year ago. And it had been months now since you’d realised that you no longer just tolerated his company — you enjoyed it a ridiculous amount and instead longed for it when he wasn’t around.
You eyed him quizzically, noting how proud of himself he looked for reading your favourite book, but also noticing an unusual lack of self-assurance glimmering through his expression.
“I would ask if you mean this trig stuff for Mr Elton,” you gestured down to the homework you’d been painfully poring over for the past hour, “But I know you too well to expect you to actually do your homework, so what are you talking about?”
He didn’t mention that the real reason he never studied in your trig study sessions was because he was more often than not too busy staring at you and coming up with things to say to make you laugh.
Jess raised his eyebrows, but then shook his head and cleared his throat to do a godawful impression of you, “Oh Jess, I can’t believe you’ve never read it. My favourite novel in the whole world and you’ve never read it!”
You scoffed, “If that was supposed to be me, get out of here.”
“Please, like you really want to get rid of me,” he teased, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you, “Then you’d be miserable and heartbroken and, even worse, have to actually finish your trig homework. Besides, I enjoyed it.”
Your eyes brightened up at this, and you could tell he noticed, “Don’t look so surprised, Y/N. Your taste isn’t that bad… I mean, you hang out with me don’t you?”
“For some reason, yes,” you pretended to grumble, feigning ignorance of the butterflies in your stomach at his usual smug smile, “But you really liked it?”
He sat down in the seat opposite you now, pulling the book from his bag and slamming it down in front of you, “Well, I have notes of course.”
You rolled your eyes, at which he couldn’t help but laugh, “Hey, it wasn’t terrible. I did say I enjoyed it… Some of the notes are nice.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure.”
“You wound me,” Jess feigned a pout, “Romance isn’t usually my genre and you know that.”
“Of course. Hemingway fanboy is too cool for my sappy romantic books, huh,” you joked, heart still racing wildly at the notion he’d even started reading it, let alone finished it.
“Pfft. Austen fangirl should be less rude and give more Hemingway a try, I say,” he quipped back, tongue in cheek.
“Hey, I like Hemingway,” you shook your head, “I just don’t go to bed and jerk off over how great I think he is like you so obviously do.”
He shook his head and pulled a face that faked shock, “And how much time in the day, on average, would you say you spend thinking about what I jerk off over, huh?”
“You are such an ass,” you tutted, swatting his arm, “Approximately none, thank you very much.”
“Whatever you say, princess.”
“Anyway, if you’re done being gross, let’s get back to the important thing here. You read my book,” You reached to pull the book towards you, only for him to snatch it back and rest his elbows on it.
You furrowed your brows at him, “What’ve you got to hide in there?”
His eyes narrowed, his lip between his teeth now as though he was thinking hard about something.
“C’mon, Mariano,” you leaned forward, “I assumed that since you brought the book with you, I’d get to see at least some of your notes.”
His fingers were picking at the edges of the book’s cloth sleeve, his toes drumming on the floor anxiously like they’d recently begun to do more often when he was around you.
He heaved out a deep sigh, “Look. I’m going to give you this, and then I’m gonna leave the diner, alright? And then, and only then, you can open this book up, and you can read what’s in there. And if you never see me again it’s ’cause I’ve died of embarrassment or something. Got it?”
You rolled your eyes, chin on your palm.
He slid the book in your direction now as you watched him swallow thickly and cocked your head to the side like a curious puppy, “Ever so cryptic, aren’t you?”
“You’ll figure it out, Miss Marple.”
With that, he rose to his feet and darted out of the diner before you could even say another word.
You briefly made eye contact with Luke behind the counter, who watched you carefully for a moment before looking down at the book now carefully clutched between your fingers.
You wasted no time then, pulling open the book and desperately skimming for whatever the hell he was talking about.
You weren’t sure what on earth you expected to find when you flicked through its pages, but it most certainly wasn’t a plethora of sticky tabs with scrawled notes on about how the protagonist reminded him of you.
You expected even less, then, to find a note in Jess’ handwriting at the very back of the book declaring that he realised halfway through — when the two love interests whose relationship bore a crazy resemblance to your own, realised that they were in fact in love — that he’d been stupid to deny that he even liked you, let alone that he’d quite obviously fallen stupidly in love with you.
Shock coursed through you, your heart racing at the uncharacteristically romantic and yet somehow still so incredibly Jess gesture.
You stood up, almost knocking over your chair as you placed the book under your arm and turned to leave, “I’ll be back—uh, soon.”
Luke nodded, “Go get him kiddo.”
You smiled, butterflies whirling in your stomach as you left the diner almost as quickly as Jess had just minutes ago.
You knew exactly where you’d find him — perched on the bridge swinging his feet and letting his mind convince him you wouldn’t in a million years feel the same.
When he heard the sound of your footsteps approaching, you saw him clench his eyes shut as if in hope that he was imagining you and that you’d soon disappear.
“You can’t confess your love for me and then run away, Jess,” you bit your lip as you teased him softly, “It’s not fair not to give me a chance to say it back properly. You do get bonus points for how much of a romance novel cliché that move is, though.”
He sighed, a deep heavy sigh of relief, and it was as though suddenly he reverted to his usual self, “Technically the book confessed my love for you, actually. And the window for reciprocating hasn’t quite closed yet. I’m all ears, pretty girl.”
You loved this.
You loved how easy things always were for you with Jess.
Everything that went unspoken still never went unsaid — sure, you’d been flirtatious friends for a while now, uncertain of quite how seriously he reciprocated your feelings, but deep down you always sort of knew.
You loved that ever since he’d come to Stars Hollow, he’d shown that he cared in his own silly little ways.
And he loved you.
And you loved him.
You sat down at his side, still clutching the book tightly as he finally looked across at you with a small smile.
“You’re such a romantic, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you,” you nudged his side teasingly, “But I— Jess I do love you, and I’ve probably loved you for a long time even though I didn’t want to let myself admit it.”
“Wow, okay Mr Darcy… Wait ‘til Luke hears that the real reason you’ve only just told me that is because you think he’s embarrassing,” he mocked, but you felt him shuffle closer, “I’ve definitely loved you for longer than I thought I had too, if it makes you feel any better.”
“Much better, Miss Bennet,” you laughed, linking your arms and leaning against his shoulder as he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head.
You felt Jess’ chest rise and fall as you closed your eyes and let the sound of the stream beneath you wash over you.
“So, like, I don’t know the protocol with the whole ‘best friends to lovers’ trope like you do, so you’re gonna have to help me out here,” Jess chuckled.
You sat back up to look at him whilst still keeping hold of his arm, “Hmm, I think what’s meant to happen next is you kiss me and ask to take me on a real date. Pretty sure that’s right.”
“Right, everyone’s favourite cliche moment,” Jess rolled his eyes jokingly but cupped your face with his palms, “God, what have you done to me?”
“You looove me,” your response was muffled as he pressed his lips to yours to shut you up, at first gently and then with a touch more urgency.
When you pulled away, he let go of your face and smiled softly, “So about that date?”
“You got it, Mariano,” you grinned, kissing him quickly once more as you paused, “But you’re going to have a tough time doing anything as romantic as annotating my favourite book and writing me a love note, you know.”
He scoffed, “Oh I’ve got plenty more where that came from, Y/N.”
“Is that a threat?” you giggled, leaning back into his side.
“Just you wait and see.”
———
ok so i kinda lost my way with this a bit eventually and i’m sorry it’s quite short but i had sooooo much fun writing it. i love jess so fucking much and i’m so grateful for all the jess requests i get — trying v hard to work through them asap because it’s so fun.
thanks for reading! here’s my masterlist for more <3
#jess mariano x y/n#jess mariano#jess mariano x you#jess mariano imagines#jess mariano imagine#jess mariano x reader#gilmore girls#gilmore girls imagines#gilmore girls imagine
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Dark! Tangerine » Scenario #1: Jealousy
Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader
▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
More at Masterlist
SUMMARY: Jealous Tangerine thoughts.
WARNING: Toxic/Abusive Relationship; Manipulation.
AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.
Also this gif is perfect for this scenario, isn't it?
--
If you think that Tangerine isn’t a jealous man, then you’re living in a fantasy world.
He is fueled by jealousy.
Your boyfriend feels - nope, he knows - that more than half of the male population in the world is after you and that’s why he must keep you away from those pricks.
Tangerine will openly forbid you from going out on your own, no matter how much you argue or beg. He’s inflexible when it comes to it and you also might as well forget about your job. He needs to know that you’re safely tucked in the comfort of his house, far away from any danger (aka any male specimen).
Otherwise Tangerine won’t be able to concentrate on anything else, practically bursting a brain vein from overthinking. His mind making up the worst scenarios of creepy men flirting with you, trying to swoon you or even worse, to hurt you. Lemon does try his best to reason with his brother, but it’s a failed attempt as Tangerine is quite the stubborn man.
If you try to escape the house to go somewhere, he’ll be so quick to find out where you are as your phone location is always available for him (you don’t know about this).
Chances are that you’ll be enjoying yourself at a coffee shop with some friends, assuming that your boyfriend is busy with a job outside the country meaning you won’t have to worry about rushing back home when suddenly a very angry Tangerine shows up, with ripped off clothes with blood stains all over and very little patience as he asks whether you want to come home willingly or should he drag you back. Your choice, of course.
You barely speak to him on your way home, bursting in tears of annoyance and shame the moment you get inside his car. Lemon tries his best to serve as a mediator and to calm you down but Tangerine’s rage is too big to be controlled as he shouts at you of how irresponsible you were.
He’s not shy explaining and detailing all the possible scenarios that could happen to you. You do know that he has dangerous enemies, right? Enemies that won’t bat an eye before cutting you into tiny pieces to get revenge at him. Enemies that wouldn’t hesitate as they would fuck you like animals over and over till they left you broken.
Did you know that? Yeah, he didn’t think so either. Basically it’s a huge guilt-tripping session until you feel like - maybe - it’s actually your fault. Maybe Tangerine is right. He’s your boyfriend after all, right?
He only wants what’s best for you. Those are the words he repeats that night as he apologizes for yelling at you as he kisses your head, pulling you into a bear hug.
He’d lose his mind if he ever lost you and that’s something you need to take into consideration. So promise him that you’ll be a good girl from now on and he might just let you out into the garden.
“I care about you, ya know that, right? I’m so fuckin’ sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart, but you seriously’ scared the shit out of me. I swear that if anything happened to you…I’d just fuckin’ kill myself. You’re my life and that’s all I care about.”
#@mrsdarkandyandere7#yandere x reader#bullet train#dark tangerine#dark!tangerine#dark!tangerine x reader#yandere tangerine#yandere tangerine x reader#yandere!tangerine#tangerine x reader#dark!fic#dark fic#tw: toxic relationships#dark tangerine x reader
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Ghoaptober # 31
Prompt: Knife
Words: 1500~
TW: Allusions to Torture (sfw)
This version of Ghoaptober was created by @spadesandshovels
This is the last one folks! All good things must come to an end, I suppose. This has been really fun to do! It's been great to stretch my writing skills, I feel like I improved over the course of the month, at least I hope I did, I definitely had to do less grammar and spelling corrections as we progressed, so there's that.
I wanted to thank everyone who's left such kind comments for me, you're feedback really does mean the world to me, Thank You!
If you want me to write more please do drop me an ask, I'd love to hear from you!
And with all of that said, onto the fic
Enjoy!
A shriek echoed out from the microscopic kitchenette crammed into the back of the disused officer’s rec room that the one-four-one had co-opted, Ghost and Price launched off the sagging sofa towards the noise. They charged into the kitchenette, Ghost wielding a knife and Price his hand-gun, ready to end any threat to their Sergeants.
There was no threat, just Soap trying to hide his awkward blush in his mug of coffee while Gaz stared at him with something close to abject horror.
“Tav, mate, what the fuck is wrong with your tongue.” Gaz demanded, willfully ignoring that he’d just screamed like an arachnophobe confronting Shelob and the fact that his superiors hadn't hesitated in running to his hypothetical rescue.
Price huffed and reholstered his gun, Ghost putting away his knife much more slowly. “Just what exactly is going on?” He demanded with an edge to his voice that suggested he was already regretting that he’d asked, “Why are you screaming over Soap’s tongue?”
“Well, Cap,” Soap started with a lewd tilt of his eyebrows and a goading grin,
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gaz cut over him with a biting tone, “but, I didn’t expect to be confronted by the fact that Soap is an actual fuckin’ demon on a casual Thursday afternoon, Price.”
“Garrick, we talked about this,” Price scolded,
“Yeah,” Ghost agreed, “Johnny can’t be a demon, his rosary'd burn him.”
“Wha!” Soap sputtered in sheer disbelief, “Youse thought Ah’m a demon?!”
“No one’s that lucky, Tav.” Gaz said with flat seriousness, “There’s gotta be some kinda something going on.”
“Would a deal with a demon make you demonic?” Ghost mused in an exaggeratedly ponderous tone, casting his gaze up to the ceiling tiles so that the flabbergasted expression Soap’s face was stretching into couldn't make him laugh.
Gaz perked up, snapping and pointing at Ghost in a eureka-esque motion, “Yes! That’s totally it!” He exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes with his triumph.
“Riley-”
“I cannae make a deal wit’ a demon!” Soap cut over Price, slamming his mug down to free up his hands for incensed gesturing, “Mah Grannie would disown me!”
“Then how do you explain-” Gaz flailed a hand in the direction of Soap’s mouth, lacking the words to describe just what in fuck was going on in there, “-that!”
A look of cartoonish offence slid onto Soap’s face. Ghost watched him brace his hands on his hips and draw himself up to his full height, hamming it up. Trying to make it into an easily deflected joke. Concern kicked at the back of Ghost’s sternum, if Johnny was deflecting it meant the real answer was nothing good.
Ghost had learned early on that Johnny was one of the most open, shameless, oversharing freaks that walked this earth. He had watched Johnny laugh his way through retelling stories and anecdotes that would have sent consummate exhibitionists blushing through the floor on multiple occasions. Ghost had also been quick to cotton on to the fact that it was for the best to follow up on the topics that Johnny tried to deflect, as they were generally things that would have a therapist crying and Johnny really was better off getting them off his chest. Ghost usually let it go and tried to circle back around to those deflections when they were alone and Johnny was feeling safe, but with Gaz latched onto this like a starved dog with a butcher bone, that wasn’t an option.
Sure, Ghost could probably distract Gaz and help Johnny wiggle out of this, but debriding old wounds is always a good team bonding experience.
Gaz and Soap had stagnated into their usual pattern of bandying insults back and forth. Having a grand time of pretending to be sputtering in high dudgeon whenever the other would quip back with something particularly clever. Ghost cut his eyes to Price, and jerked his chin at Johnny upon catching the Captain’s eye.
Yes, Ghost wanted Johnny to talk about it, but he didn’t want his boyfriend upset with him either.
“Right,” Price cut in after giving Ghost a roundly rancorous look, “Soap, why is Garrick accusing you of having a demonic tongue. Without!” He hastily amended when Soap turned overblown fuck-me eyes on him, “any chirpsing if you would.”
“Aye, right. Uh-” Soap hesitated, staring down at his feet and rubbing at his nape as he tried to gather the right words to explain this, “Reckon he mean’ this.” He gave up and just stuck his tongue out.
Soap could admit that he got a bit of a kick out of watching their uncomprehending looks warp into horrified incredulity when his tongue split down the middle. He wiggled the two sides up and down in opposite directions of each other and briefly twined them into a coil to drive the image home, then retracted it back behind the safety of his teeth with as much casual finesse as he could muster.
There was a beat of silence, then a cavalcade of questions. Soap’s personal favourite was Ghost’s ‘how did I not notice?’ said in the tone of a man on the edge of a revelatory breakdown. A close second was Price’s muttered ‘that can’t be within regs.”, but topping the charts for sheer volume was Gaz.
“What!” He shrieked, “What the fuck! When’d you get that!?” his voice dripped with a queer mix of awe, horror, and morbid fascination.
Soap hummed uncertainly, casting his mind back, swallowing against the phantom taste of blood creeping up his throat to pool at the back of his mouth, “Mus’ a been aroun' twenty-sixteen? Some’hing like tha’,”
“Twenty-sixteen.” Price muttered, mentally rifling through Soap’s file, there was something about that year that had the klaxons spinning up in Price’s subconscious, “Not October twenty-sixteen?”
“Aye,” Soap nodded, keeping his eyes on the ground, “Tha’d be the one.”
“Corporal MacTavish was detained by enemy forces eighth October twenty-sixteen and was successfully recovered twelfth October twenty-sixteen. In enemy custody, Corporal MacTavish was subjected to physical maltreatment, most notably manifesting in substantial damage within the oral cavity. Injury permanent but non-disfiguring. Corporal MacTavish states that no intelligence was provided to the adversary while in custody.” Price quotes -impressively word for word- from the truncated after action report that had been the script for far too many of his nightmares, “That October twenty-sixteen?”
“Got ‘er in one, Cap.” Soap confirms, idly grinding his tongue between his teeth, “Yanno, they did offer tae fix it. The medics.” He spoke on just to break the heavy silence that had conquered the room, “But they’d have had tae open it up again, cause it’d been cauterized, so Ah said no' tae bother.”
They'd told him that as it was a 'non-invasive procedure' only local numbing would be provided and Soap would not be letting anyone else come at his tongue with a knife unless he was unconscious, dead, or dying.
“Tav," Gaz pressed out slowly, hesitantly, “That’s fucked, mate.”
“Aye,” Soap nodded, staring down at the kitchenette’s cheap linoleum. Blinking to force the floor back into dingy tiles when his brain tried to twist it into stained concrete. He huffed a small flat laugh, more to force the scent of iron and dank stone from his nose than anything else, “Aye, twasn’t mah idea ae fun neither.”
“Johnny,” Ghost drew his name out into a devastated whine and lunged forward to coil around Soap in a protective embrace. Heart splitting at the shakiness he could feel in Johnny’s shallow breaths as he clutched his boyfriend to his chest.
“Ah’m alrigh’,” Johnny assured, but the tear-fighting sniff he tried to conceal in Ghost’s pecs said something different.
“You’re alright,” Price agreed, laying a grounding hand on Soap’s shoulder.
“Yeah,” Gaz poked at Soap’s sensitive sides to force a wet giggle out of him, “Course you’re alright, Tav. You’ve got us and if those fucks aren’t already dead I’m sure Ghost is drafting up like ten different plans for how to track ‘em down and kill ‘em slow.”
Ghost was glad that Gaz’s joking was making Johnny feel better, and gave an intrigued pensive hum into the fluff of his warhawk to play along.
It was actually fifteen different plans.
“Okay. Okay.” Soap barked, shaking them off once he was absolutely positive that he wasn’t about to start bawling like a bairn as soon as they let go, “Mah goddamn coffee’s gonnae be fuckin’ cold now ye muckers.”
“Do you want me to make you a new cup, so you don't have to microwave it?” Ghost offered, love surging within him for the wide blue eyes that swung his way.
“Would ye, mo chridhe?” Johnny begged prettily.
Ghost hooked a thumb under his balaclava, lifting it over his mouth just long enough to press an adoring kiss unto Johnny’s lips, then turning away to make him the promised fresh cuppa, fluidly stealing his mug to dump and refill it.
Both men were content to ignore the way Gaz faked a retch over their sappy mush, as he practically stepped on Price’s heels following after the Captain on his tactical retreat back to the sofa.
Thank You For Reading!
Some nice hurt/comfort to round off the month. It didn't make it into the fic but the reason that his captors split Soap's tongue is because he wouldn't stop talking back, just a fun fact for y'all.
Did anyone want me to make a masterlist for all of these? with ratings and short descriptions or something? there's already links to the full series on my masterlist, but that just has the prompts, so I was wondering if a masterlist would be helpful. Let me know!
PekoeHoneynCream's Masterlist
#ghoaptober#ghoap#ghostsoap#soapghost#pekoehoneyncream#ghost x soap#soap x ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#simon riley#lieutenant riley#john soap mactavish#soap call of duty#soap cod#john mactavish#sergeant mactavish#john bravo six price#john price#price cod#price call of duty#captain price#kyle gaz garrick#gaz cod#gaz call of duty#kyle garrick#sergeant garrick#cod#call of duty
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list of worm characters and how good they would be at force fem
beware spoilers
UNDERSIDERS Taylor (Skitter): unless there's an estrogen spider somewhere in the world, no shot Taylor (Khepri): unfortunately, unlimited power comes at the cost of a rapidly-dwindling understanding of gender Grue: lacks both the ability and the inclination. his fragile masculinity makes him a fine target, however. Tattletale: you'd think she'd be good at it, or at the very least sufficiently-advanced egg detection, but she also believes everyone on the team is straight, so this is gonna be a blind spot for her. Bitch: shockingly good at it if the end goal is puppygirl, stone useless otherwise. Regent: i mean. he could, but what's in it for him? easily bored, no patience for process. at best he could manage getting someone into a tutu for a lark before losing interest. Imp: gaslight girlboss of course she's gonna be great at this. what's this? all the contents of your underwear drawer replaced? you didn't do that... did you? who else could have? so you must have wanted this...right? Parian: if you will not wear the dress, the dress will have to come to you. Foil: nah
EVERYONE ELSE Accord: ugh who wants a tidy feminization? Bakuda: hey maybe you'll get hit with the fem grenade! probably you'll just die, or worse. Bonesaw: oh now we're talkin. unparalleled biomech horror force fem game. the mechanical spider tapped into your spinal column decides when it's time to get you prettied up for a tea party. Canary: shania twain karaoke incident feminizes twelve, birdcage for sure. Cherish: trivially easy to set up an emotional conditioning system. wearing skirt? dopamine hit! wearing pants? kill yourself - whoops. well, she'll have a lot of time at the bottom of the ocean to figure out correct feedback intensities. Clockblocker: in theory one should be able to get up to some mischief while someone is frozen in time, but i'm not sure dennis has the ability to freeze someone without also freezing their clothes, which means this has limited utility. could play a support role for someone else. Contessa: effortlessly trips you into a chain reaction that completely reshapes your life as part of a twelve-thousand step plan to improve humanity's long-term odds of survival by a fraction of a percent. thank you for your service. Echidna: all your evil monster clones are girls for some reason. whether this works depends entirely on how you respond to awkward post-incident questions your friends have about it. Eidolon: yeah i mean he could. but it doesn't make him feel globally, historically important so he's not gonna. Gallant: is "feminine" an emotion he can inflict? girl feelings beam attack? shame we'll never know, RIP. Gregor the Snail: nothing in canon says he can't secrete a mildly acidic ooze that turns you into a slime girl. Jack Slash: broadcast shard should in theory mean he can easily manipulate other capes into getting feminized, but that's less time spent on self-aggrandizing mass murder, so. Marquis: bone structure matters less than you'd think in the grand scheme of things, but yes he can reshape your jawline and cheek bones, give you those child-bearing hips. pros: he doesn't kill women, so you're that much safer. cons: it is going to hurt like a motherfucker. Number Man: oh no your company has fallen on hard times and you've been laid off! and how peculiar that the only business hiring anywhere near you is the maid cafe. it says they're very strict about their dress code but that's probably fine. and food's gotten so expensive but wait these odd imported protein shakes are absurdly cheap... Panacea: you know what the joke is already, come on. Scion: has Path to Victory and would never in a billion years think of using it for anything fun.
and finally,
the Simurgh: best in show. sure, it'll take four years for the triggers and conditioning to work their way through your subconscious but when they do...
BONUS Simurgh/Dragon double-team: Defiant probably never spent enough time close to the Simurgh to get affected, plus he had those high-tech earplugs he designed himself, so surely he's fine. nevertheless, his focus wanders during a critical moment while editing Dragon's source code, and now she's bossier, maybe even a little meaner, and the prosthetic parts she's making for colin's cyborg body are... different. curvier, softer. and every time he tries to find the problem in her code he gets distracted, and she gets more and more imperious. can he find a way out of the Simurgh's conditioning and his AI lover's domination? will he have to seek help from Saint - or worse, Teacher? surely they wouldn't take advantage of him in his vulnerable cyberdoll state?
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TMNT HEADCANON - Turtle of choice x reader (GN)
Reader’s Birthday
the first slice goes to.. / showing love through cake lol
It’s a tradition in my country to give the first slice to the person you love the most during your birthday, so here a tiny Headcanon for how the turtles would react to it!
Here a demonstration of this wholesome act, TW cute kids
Reader and TOC (turtle of choice) are still on the “crush stage”, doing with the 2003 boys cuz I’ve recently started watching the show! (I only remember bits it cuz I was pretty young when it aired lol, I love how the very beginning shows how they found out a new lair, how they met april, how they barely got any human contact before meeting her, it’s super cool and has some fresh concepts comparing to most canon narratives, if you haven’t watched the 2003 series I highly recommend it)
Anyways, let me know if you would like me to do other versions as well :) hope you guys like it, feedback is welcomed 🫶
English is not my first language so I apologize for any grammar mistakes !!
Mikey
🛹 He’s deadass behaving like this after you tell him the meaning behind giving the first slice (i love this gif lol)
🛹 “AWW !! ANGELCAKES!!” Hugs you so tightly you barely have time to move the tiny slice to the nearest surface you can find, one second later the cake would have gotten smushed between you two
🛹 good luck if you have labyrinthitis, he WILL spin you around a few (at least 5) times to show how appreciative he is of the gesture
🛹 he’s not letting you go for a hot second
🛹 Sees this as an opportunity to finally kiss your cheeks, he has always wanted to but never really had a “reason” to without making things awkward, this is his perfect chance!
🛹will randomly give you kisses through out your stay
🛹 Gets addicted to it, your skin are much softer and smoother than theirs, does a mental note to give more attention to this area from now on
🛹 If you blush to his antics tho? Oh he is DONE for
🛹if you placed a microfone to his chest it would def broadcast the sickest beat
🛹 boom boom boom boom 💥
🛹Actually he will cling to you, will do anything you want or ask for, it’s your princess / prince / royalty day!
🛹 Pls confess to the poor boy lol he’s actually anticipating it now
🛹 Literally vibrating with joy, expect lots of hugs from him
🛹 Your bday will become his favorite “holiday” (yes for him it’s a holiday now )
Donnie
🔬”Cake time! “ Mikey sings out loud as he has been patiently waiting for your arrival to sing happy birthday
🔬you insist that Donnie gets the first slice tho, and he definitely reads into why you are persistent of him instead of younger brother
🔬he of course accepts it, but D keeps it quiet most of the evening, doesn’t want to put you on the spot, but he can swear he saw a faint blush adore your cheeks when you looked towards him
🔬 will ask to speak in private with you, hopefully when the “birthday commotion” dies down a bit, he definitely doesn’t want to deal with Raph’s and Mikey’s “oooooh” and “get it Donnie!” Teasing remarks
🔬He still deals with it tho, cuz I mean, brothers.
🔬 Donnie shows the reason why he pulled you over, a PowerPoint complication of several different birthday traditions around the globe he has read some before setting up the party earlier
🔬 “Isn’t it interesting?? “Totally trying to cover up his main question, did you or did you not give him the first slice? aka just said in front of EVERYONE that HE is your favorite person in the entire world?????
🔬 “one of the most wholesome ones I’ve fond was this one, apparently, I mean, if you wish to, you give the first cake slice to your- erm, to the person it means the world to you…”
🔬 “that one is pretty cute, yeah” you chuckle, looking down as his nervous hands, fidgeting with a random prototype he decided to hold it for moral support while showing of his presentation
🔬”were you.. aware of such tradition? “ Donnie finally looks towards you, searching for any indication of you confirming his suspicions, eyes shining with anticipation
🔬 “I was- I am aware of it Donnie” you smooth your hand on top of his as you caress it tenderly
🔬 literally let’s out the dorkiest giggle you have ever heard in your entire life
🔬 the “school girl / Kicking my feet” kinda giggle
🔬 cover his mouth right after he lets it out. Don is mortified, embarrassed as hell, deadass wants to crawl in a hole and die after he lets it out
🔬 Relaxes a bit after he sees you giggling as well
🔬 asks more about your birthday traditions, past birthdays memories you had to break the ice (that’s his way is being smooth)
🔬 please be noted, He does not let go of your hand, man is making his moves
🔬 but just a heads up; this moment will live rent free in his mind for MONTHS on end, for his sake (and his brothers sake as well) confess as soon as you can
Raph
🧨 says he doesn’t want it right off the bat
🧨 It’s not that he doesn’t want to accept your feelings, he actually has no ideia about this tradition whatsoever, if you have ever told him before, he definitely forgot it
🧨 Plus, I’m a firm believer most Raph’s aren’t really into sweet treats, they doesn’t want to mess with his diet or can’t handle much sugar (gym rat tendencies)
🧨 You try to empathize how special it would be for you if he accept it
🧨 you really don’t wanna say why tho, like, this is already really embarrassing as it is
🧨 just take the cake man, damn
🧨 mikey for the rescue! literally shoves the cake down his throat after Raph guarantees he doesn’t want it
🧨 Things get a bit awkward after that, you really don’t want to showcase that such a small thing had an affect on you
🧨 But there’s a tiny part of you that feels rejected, unconsciously start to shut down
🧨 Raph is extremely perspective of this, much the second youngest, he start to analyses what could have gone wrong, did something happen before you came to celebrate your birthday? Is someone bothering you? Should he teach them a lesson?
🧨 Will antagonize Donnie to check cameras around your area and work place
🧨 But it’s donn who comments about the birthday tradition
🧨 Will literally get so mad when he finds out lol
🧨 Feels SO stupid, Jesus Christ
🧨Will bark at mikey to spill the cake out, that was his slice
🧨”Dude, that was a week ago!
🧨 “I don’t care. Spill. it. out.”
🧨 “Raph, he probably already, uh- processed it out? “
🧨 “you guys are freaking disgusting, do we really have to discuss this at the dinner table?”
🧨 Will randomly show up at your place with a tiny red cake, a bit messy, but still pretty cute
🧨 “my birthday was last week, im pretty sure you were there to witness” you let out a chuckle, trying to ease out the undeniable tension in the air
🧨” this is my cake “
🧨 “ok..?”
🧨” …and I want you to have the first slice “
🧨 Oh.
🧨 OH.
🧨 oh.
Leo
🎏 Unlike his brother, Leo could never forget it
🎏He literally has a folder in his brain just for stuff you tell him
🎏Stores it like the most precious piece of information anyone has ever given him
🎏 It took him a really long time to process his feelings for you, but once he does it, he treasures every single moment he has with you
🎏 you don’t even have to say anything when he sees you holding the plate to his direction, holding a mix of surprise and yet seriousness look on his face
🎏it’s like eveything it’s suddenly in slow motion, The determination behind his eyes makes you concerned a bit
🎏”Thank you, y/n”
🎏He bows to you
🎏 His brothers have no ideia what that was but they are def crackling up a storm
🎏 “what was that????”
🎏 “Tone it down, splinter junior, it’s just a cake”
🎏 what the boys don’t see it’s you being absolutely speechless and looking like a tomato as Leo takes his slice
🎏 you are the one over-analyzing the situation here
🎏What did he meant by that bow? does he remember what you told him ages ago? He wouldnt simply just bow for a slice of cake, would he?
🎏It fuels a fire inside of you and him, both extremely aware of each others lingering touches and thoughtful gestures from now on
🎏This goes on for a while, this whole… mutual pining stage can be tricky, but when reciprocated, it’s so nice to navigate through, and honestly quite addicting
🎏 a confession won’t even be necessary, leo and you get together over thoughtful acts, your first kiss was under the mistletoe on Christmas was an easy feat, yes, it was barely a brush over eachother lips, but still just felt natural, like it was supposed to be
🎏the midnight kiss in new years was a whole other thing, hands gripping on each other, his hand holding the nape of your neck like his life depended on it, you two couldn’t get enough of each other, waiting for so long to actually make a move after the cake incident
🎏 you finally make it official on his birthday, gracing you a smile and a light peck as he gently places the slice right in front of you
#tmnt#tmnt x reader#giulia writes#2003 tmnt#tmnt 2003 x reader#2003 tmnt Leo#tmnt leo#tmnt raph#donnie tmnt#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey#birthday#tmnt headcanons#tmnt fandom#2003 tmnt Headcanon
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What Are You Willing To Do?
Ch. 1 : Self-Restraint (Rafe has none)
Milan's Party Outfit
Note: Okay this took forever to come out and I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think. Also something to note, I have an OC who is the main love interest in my JJ story. She is present in this story, but the two stories don't intertwine. Just something for those of you who will read both. I hope you enjoy and I love interacting. I will accept (constructive) criticism. And feedback. Another note, Milan is a little more of a bimbo character than my other ones, she won't be fully lost and I refuse to make her childlike. She just likes to be in the wind and chose a man who handles stuff for her. Also she doesn't have a permanent face claim yet, so if you have any ideas for that, please message them to me! :) Thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you're reading any of my other stories, I hope to be posting more to have some reprieve from the state of the world. Thanks so much!
Warnings: Mentions of sexual conduct, strong language, drug use
“Let’s go, I don’t know why I have to wait for you, we’ve got things to handle today, you’re makin’ me late-”
“Yeah, Dad-” Rafe huffs, jogging his way down the steps, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack in the foyer. “Well, Sara has been in my shit again so, maybe you could talk to her about that-”
“I don’t touch your shit, no one wants your shit, Rafe.”
“I can tell, you probably brought your bum ass pogue boyfriend in here too, he shouldn’t be in the damn house-”
“Rafe!” Ward’s voice booms, making Rafe’s eyes snap to his father’s obediently, mouth snapping shut. “Do you really think that it's productive for you to waste time arguing with your little sister when I just told you we need to get a move on?”
“Uh,” the younger man breathes heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he glares at his sister over his father’s shoulder. “No, sir.”
“Alright then.” Ward rolls his eyes, nodding his head for his son to grab the bag on the ground and grab the car keys before turning to address his eldest daughter. “Need you to be home for dinner tonight. There’s a new family moving in a couple blocks over and we wanna make a good impression. That means no fighting,” the older man raises his eyebrows at his children, placing his bluetooth in his ear, “no boyfriends, Sarah,” Ward finishes with a rough pat on his son’s back, “no drugs. Get it? This could be big, Gregory Cabot is big in the oil industry and they might want to…settle here. If they do, we should be their first friends, understand?”
Rafe nods quietly, attentively hanging onto his father’s every word. Taking them in with an intensity that would satisfy any other dad. But not Ward Cameron. “Sarah, they’ve got twins about your age. Make sure you and Wheezie are cleaned up nicely. Rafe,” the 21 year old is met with his father’s rough hand smacking his cheek once, twice, under the guise of an affectionate pat. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“It’s like he uh, doesn’t get it, right? Like I do fuckin’ everything he asks, and I’m uh…I’m the fuck up.” Rafe stammers irritably before sending a powerful swing into the golf ball in front of him, watching it sail off into the distance.
Topper and Kelce exchange looks as their friend grinds his teeth, grabbing a beer from their cart and taking a deep swig. He’d been ranting about this morning since they’d started on the course an hour ago. Apparently, his father’s comment had carried in Rafe’s mind all of the way through the brief errand down at the docks he’d accompanied him on, followed him to the country club and was going to last the entirety of their hang out.
“Yeah man, I mean,” Topper begins, “I get it right? My mom’s always on some shit too. Like I screw up everything I do.”
“You do, Top.” Kelce chuckles, lining up for his swing.
Rafe nods along, taking another swig. “For real, like realistically, I do everything I’m supposed to, like I really step up and it’s fuckin’ bullshit that I’m still supposed to act like I’m his little bitch boy. I’m fully a man. I’m focused and shit. Because for real, Top, I feel like if Sarah asked you to come over right now you’d go runnin’ right?”
“Fuck you man.”
“Motherfucker knows I’m right.”
“Kelce?”
“I mean, Top, let’s be real.”
Topper rolls his tongue in his cheek irritably, turning red at his friend’s taunting, “Well, y’all are the ones who lost a girl to Maybank. Angel is glued to his broke ass.”
Rafe scoffs, picking his club back up and practicing his swing. “Yeah, fuck that, that was Kelce’s thing. Angel’s bad, but she’s more like the sister I wish Sarah’s annoying ass was.”
“Sarah’s just like, young minded, she doesn’t know what she wants.”
Kelce laughs again as Rafe rolls his eyes, the two men switching spots as Rafe goes up for his turn again. “She knows, it’s just not you, man. Maybe that pogue just has better dick than you, Top…or did she ever let you fuck her?” Kelce laughs, turning his head to look up the hill at the juice bar at the edge of the course, squinting at something in the distance.
“Fuckin’ disgustin’.” Rafe huffs, swinging again, smirking as the ball goes directly into the hole, resting the club on his broad shoulder. “If you bitches weren’t so worried about chasing ass, maybe your game would be better.” The dirty blond brags, turning to see both of his friends now staring off into the distance. His jaw ticks in annoyance as he realizes that his friends had missed his impressive swing and ignored his bragging to stare at… “what the hell are you idiots looking at?”
When they don’t answer, Rafe decides to look for himself. The sight he sees is simultaneously exactly what he’s expecting and something he couldn’t have seen coming.
Standing at the juice bar was possibly the sexiest little thing he’s seen in his 21 years of living. Sure, he’d expected to see a pretty girl. That’s just about the only thing that can get both Topper and Kelce to shut the fuck up for more than two seconds. Their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, the two men didn’t hide their attraction at all.
But Rafe, he was experiencing something else entirely. He’d thought she was fucking hot like they did, obviously. But this was a different kind of fine. She had to be new. There was no way that she would have evaded him by now. His cheek dimples slightly as he absently bites his lip a bit, watching the girl lean over the counter, her feet lifting slightly off of the ground, her tiny white skirt giving him a shot of the smooth skin that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Rafe’s eyes follow her every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. Intense blue drinking in the dark, shiny, barely shoulder length hair falls out from her hat as she lifts it from her head, smoothing her hand over it before placing her hat back on.
Come on, baby, turn around for me. Lemme see the rest of that body. Lemme see that face.
It’s as if she could hear him. Like she decided to move, position herself, just for his enjoyment, because she turns. She turns and pulls herself up onto one of the barstools with a hop, pulling her shades from her face and tucking them onto the front of her shirt. She’s far, but even with the distance, Rafe finds himself puffing out a breath of disbelief, drinking in her gorgeous features. Full, glossy lips, tinged red, big eyes and a sweet, absent expression.
Next thing Rafe knows he’s making his way up the grassy hill, ignoring the calls of his friends for him to wait up.
“But, my parents are signing up for membership today.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but until you’re in the system you’ll have to pay with cash or card.”
Milan pouts and furrows her brows. She just wanted to have a quick refresher before she met up with her mother at the new house so she’d ridden over to the club with her father. She didn’t really think she’d need money. She never carries cash because she’s likely to lose it and she’d left her card in her red purse, but it didn’t match her outfit so she’d sent it ahead to the house. She could go ask her father for money, but he was in the club owner’s office talking shop and had instructed her to explore while he finished up. “But it’s hot out here.” she whines.
Milan turns to her right and starts scanning the outdoor bar area, looking for someone who looked friendly enough to spot her until her dad came down and paid them back. She drums her manicured nails on the wood of the countertop, ignorant to the bartender rolling her eyes at the girl.
Finally, her eye lands on a table with three guys that look fresh off of the golf course. They’re all dressed similarly and just like every other guy at the club. Polo shirt and khaki pants. Two of them wore hats. They looked like her friends from back home. But the third one, he’s the one who gives her pause. As soon as her eyes land on him his shoot over, locking on hers. She straightens her posture a bit under his gaze, offering a polite smile before doing what most normal people do when accidentally making eye contact with someone, looking away. Her bob length hair brushes her shoulder as she turns her head away, but she can’t help but feel someone was still watching her. She decides to turn her head back slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, only to find she’s right. The guy is still watching.
He wets his lip as he tilts his head. His eyes still trained on her as he uncrossed his muscular arms. A small, what seems to be a smile, rests on his lips as he drums his hands on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, pushing out of the seat and making his way over. One of his friends making a comment about something being ‘fuckin’ unfair’.
Milan fully straightens, tucking her hands under her butt and whirling around to face the bar again as if she hadn’t just been staring back at him. She kicks her feet until she feels a presence behind her? Beside her?
She turns her head and looks up to find the same guy, caging her in, standing slightly behind her with one hand resting on the bar at her side, the other grabbing the bottom of her stool and turning her to face him fully.
Seeing him up close she can see how cute he is. Pretty blue eyes, clear skin and pink lips. His jawline is sharp, his seemingly blond hair is buzzed short to his head, and a dimple is revealed in his cheek with his smug grin. He’s big too. Tall and muscular, his presence is all imposing, crowding her against the bar and giving her no choice but to accommodate him in her bubble. “Hey.” he says softly, his voice still a deep rumble.
Milan finds herself mimicking his position, tilting her head to match his, placing her elbows behind her to rest on the bar leaning the same way he was. Missing his eyes dropping briefly to wear the fabric of her shirt strained against her breasts. “Hi.”
“So, you uh, you want a drink or somethin’?” he asks lowly.
“Um..” she shrugs sheepishly, lifting her shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno.”
She does. That’s what she’s been trying to do for the last few minutes, but that was before the cute guy was towering over her, taking up her space. He furrows his brow for a second, a smile still on his face as he pushes up a little, whistling into the air, nodding his head for the bartender to come over.
The woman sees the man and immediately sweeps her hand over her hair, smoothing it out and prancing over. “Yeah, yes, hi Mr. Cameron.” She twirls the end of her ponytail, offering him a wide grin. “What can I get for you?”
“Yeah, Erica, get me and the boys some beers and, uh,” the man raises his eyebrows at Milan.
“Oh, Milan.” she smiles up at him prettily before looking back at a very annoyed Erica. “Can I have a peach refresher? Please?”
“She doesn’t have a membership account yet-” Erica starts only to pause when she realizes that the blond hadn’t glanced in her direction since calling her over.
“Then put her shit on mine. Want anything else, sweetheart?” he asks, a heavy hand resting on Milan’s lower back.
“No, I think I’m okay.” she hums, lifting her chin as the bartender rolls her eyes and strolls away. “Thank you, by the way, for covering me. My father will pay you back when he’s done with his meeting.”
The mention of her father has the man recoiling a little, retreating his hand from her with his smile dropping slightly. “Don’t uh, worry about it, aight? So, Milan, how, uh, how old are you anyway?”
Milan works an even wider eyed look on her face, perching herself on the edge of the stool and swinging her legs. “15, how old are you, Mr. Cameron?”
His eyes widen and he takes a large step back, smoothing his and over his jaw, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “No shit? I uh…I’m-”
“Cute.” Milan giggles, hitting his arm lightly, pulling back when she feels the muscles that are barely concealed by the stereotypical polo that he’s wearing. “‘M 20, Mr. Cameron.”
“Rafe.” he says firmly. Milan straightens again when she feels his imposing presence once again, the heavy hand back at her back, spreading warmth up her spine.
“Rafe.” she repeats.
“Good.” Rafe praises. Milan shifts in her seat at his approval, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at the feeling she gets from the praise. “You, uh, new around here, or…”
“Yeah, I’m new, just settling in.”
“Right, yeah, and uh…your family just left you all alone, that doesn’t seem fair.” He offers her a small pout that Milan fails to recognize as patronizing. “Wanna join me and the boys?”
“Sur-”
The sound of a glass slamming down on the bartop startles the girl, the splashing of her drink leading her to scoot back, bumping into Rafe’s hard chest. “Three beers and a refresher.” Erica sneers. Milan checks her outfit for juice stains while Rafe tosses a tip onto the bar, an unimpressed look on his face.
“That shit’s not cute.”
Both girls whip their heads to look up at him, a hard look of disapproval has Erica huffing and storming away after snatching the tip from the counter. As quickly as it appeared, the look is gone when Rafe refocuses his attention on the girl directly in front of him.
Milan finds herself smiling again as the man mumbles a short, ‘you’re good’ under his breath as he scans her clothes for any evidence of a spill. Just as she’s going to agree to join them she receives a text from her father. Time to go. “I’d love to, but my father is ready to leave, it’s been a long day for him, I don’t wanna keep him waiting.”
“Nah, we wouldn’t want that.” Rafe offers Milan a hand, helping her hop down from the stool and passing her the drink. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”
As Milan walks away perkily all she can think about is the cute guy she met at the country club. Turning back once to wave her fingers at him and being met with a crooked smile and a nod of the head she flounces off to find her dad.
And sharp blue eyes follow her skirt the whole way.
The muscle working in Rafe’s jaw is doing overtime as he cocks his head to the side, staring blankly at the wall trying to temper the rage boiling in his stomach as Ward carries on screaming in his face.
Apparently if he didn’t have anything better to be doing, he should have been shadowing his father today instead of golfing.
Apparently he was a dickhead for even thinking he’d be sitting at one of the seats at the end of the table because that’s where the head of the house sits and he doesn’t run shit but his mouth.
Apparently he was a poor excuse of a man for not knowing why Sarah was late and Wheezie’s dress wasn’t perfectly ironed, because how the women in the house look and act is a reflection of him and more importantly, Ward.
So Rafe stood there. And he ate that shit. Nodded quietly, eyes squinted, internalizing every slight, every insult, and making note.
He counted every book on the bookshelf in his father’s office until he felt his jaw being gripped and forced over to face Ward. Then, he started counting the wrinkles on his face.
The verbal lashing didn’t end until Sarah came barreling in, her straps to her dress barely on and her hair combed for fucking once since getting with that fuckin’ bum. But Ward softens. He redirects his attention to tell his daughter she’s beautiful and thank her for coming. And then he points a warning finger in Rafe’s face before storming out of the room.
“Where the hell were you?” he asks his sister through gritted teeth.
Sarah rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “Don’t have to answer to you, Rafe.”
It takes everything in him not to put his fist through a wall.
So, yeah, one could say he’s a little on edge. Sitting on his father’s right because the guest of honor, Mr. Cabot deserves the seat on the left, that’s where food gets served first. Rose sat on the opposite end, where the second host sits which will also place her closest to where Mrs. Cabot will likely be. Ward is at the head because where the fuck else would he be? And Rafe is in the seat on the right. The seat where the food will get served last. The seat where the youngest in the family is supposed to fuckin’ sit which anyone who has any kind of knowledge of etiquette would know. Which Rafe knows because he’s proactive and he fuckin’ learned it. Because he knows every aspect of running a household, not that Ward would acknowledge it.
He needs a fuckin’ bump.
Or a blunt.
What the fuck ever the wine ain’t cuttin’ it.
But Ward is watching him like a hawk and clearly won’t tolerate him disappearing to find some peace no matter how brief and slick he is about it.
So instead, Rafe’s leg jumps under the table. And his fingers drum on top of it. And he works his jaw irritably.
“You need a nicotine patch or something?” Wheezie asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“C-could you actually shut the fuck up for one second?”
“You’re such a jerk, Rafe, she’s a kid, Jesus.” Sarah huffs. “When’s this family supposed to be coming anyway?”
“Asking that repetitively is not going to make them get here faster.” Rose groans, rubbing her temples. “Honey-”
“They’re here,” Ward calls, retreating from the door, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the sitting room for Rafe to get four scotches ready, and sitting in the seat in the corner of the room. “Ladies?”
“We’re going.” Wheezie whines, following behind Rose into the kitchen and carrying in the dinner that they were pretending Rose and Sarah made as Sarah goes to the foyer to wait for the bell to ring. “But this little routine we have is really sexist.”
“Don’t screw this up.” Ward sneers under his breath, as he takes his glass from Rafe.
“Dad-”
The ring of the doorbell has everyone falling into their roles. It all starts without a hitch. Sarah pulls the door open with a bright smile and sickeningly sweet greeting. Rafe tries to tune in to the fake conversation his father started with him when they heard the footsteps in their home multiply.
“Oh! I’m a mess, nice to meet you, I’m Rose, please come in. Sweetheart, why don’t you go with Sarah and Louisa while I show your father to the sitting room. Then us girls can really get to know each other.” Rose plays her part easily, her heels clacking against the floor, the sound getting closer as she chatters away to what should only be the couple and their son now that she’s dumped the girl off with Sarah. “Your daughter is just beautiful, really, you’re going to have to watch her on this island.”
She says that to everyone. 9/10 it's a lie.
“Your daughters are gorgeous too. You must have your hands full.”
Sounds like Mrs. Cabot knows the game too, usually people don’t get a word in while Rose is running her lines.
“We keep our eyes peeled, but our girls just aren’t doing the dating scene yet.” No, Sarah’s too busy laying on her back for dirty pogues to date someone worth mentioning. A little money doesn’t change status. “Ward, darling, our guests are here.”
And that’s our cue.
Like they’ve done many times before the two men stand, Rafe watches his father’s movements carefully, making sure to always stand tall, and one step behind him. Ward takes 2 steps, Rafe takes 1.
The man entering the room behind Rose was tall. Only a little shorter than Rafe. Broad and appearing stern. He guides his wife in by her waist and Rafe quickly looks away from the older woman. She’s attractive, and if it was him, the last thing Rafe would want is his potential business partner’s son eyeing down his wife. The man holds out his large hand to Ward first, the two of them shaking firmly. “Gregory Cabot.”
“Ward Cameron, good to meet you.” Ward gestures behind him for Rafe to enter stage left. “And this is my son…”
“Rafe, uh Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” he says, shaking Gregory’s hand and squeezing the appropriate amount. A craft he’d perfected during the early days of doing these.
“Good shake son.”
The comment has Rafe standing at his full height, biting back an accomplished smirk as his dad glances back at him with a look of approval.
“Handsome young man, too.” the older woman hums.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Rafe offers her a polite smile to appease his father.
It’s all a part of the game. This little back and forth. It breaks the ice, and Rafe is the sacrificial lamb for it everytime. Gregory would say:
“Don’t be tryin’ to seal my wife there, boy.”
Pause for laughter.
Then Rafe would say something like, “if I was a couple years older I might give you some competition, sir.”
To which everyone would laugh and Ward would swat him with strength that varies depending on how the interaction goes.
Rafe has this little dance down to a science.
It was going well. Really, it was exactly how it should be, and going quickly too. Rafe was desperate to get this part over with so they could handle business, make some money, and he could celebrate by going to a party he’d heard about earlier.
But then she came in. And suddenly this was something entirely new.
“Dad, I’m gonna go to a party with Sarah after dinner. Can I have some money?”
There she is. Her shapely body draped in a silky green dress with pretty pink roses, her manicured fingers already outstretched toward her father. Glossed, rose petal lips pursed as she waits for the bills to be placed in her hand.
Milan. Rafe forces his eyes away from her, feeling two warring feelings flood his body as he wills himself to keep his eyes on her father instead.
“Without Milo?” Gregory asks.
Milan rolls her eyes to the ceiling, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upward and causing Rafe to work his jaw lightly. “‘M grown, Dad.”
Ward would never tolerate that tone…neither would I.
“We’re in a new place, your brother’s away on business-” Rafe can immediately feel his father’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head.
Milan’s eyes slide shut as she takes a deep breath, retracting fully and turning to leave the room. She was so caught up she didn’t even notice Rafe. It aggravated him. Spoiled. She’s spoiled.
I can fix that.
Eventually they get dinner started and it’s like the interaction hadn’t happened. Milan sat through the dinner and acted her role accordingly. She introduced herself to his father, which clearly had impressed Ward. She made her obligatory conversation points, but mostly chatted with the other women at the table. When Rafe pulled out her chair, she smiled at him prettily but aside from that, gave him no indication that she recognized him from earlier.
Rafe tries to focus on talking shop with his dad and Gregory, but his eyes keep wandering back to Milan’s mouth on her spoon and the little hums that leave her mouth.
The damn ice cream ain’t that fuckin’ good.
“Uh, yeah, I’ve been trackin’ the macro model for crude oil and uh, I, I’d wanna know more.”
“That’s great son, yeah, it takes time, but it seems like you're on track, maybe I could put you in contact with one of my buddies that does the numbers for me, then you can run them with your dad and I.”
Rafe’s on fuckin’ fire. He’s killin’ this shit, and he’ll be deep in those Cabot pockets in no time. But all he could think about is the man’s pretty little princess perched on her chair a couple seats down, pouting as Sarah raves about how fun this party is going to be to Milan and Wheezie.
None of my fuckin’ business.
“Sounds really cool, Sarah.” the girl smiles behind the metal spoon, sighing wistfully.
Don’t do this shit man, Ward’s gonna kill you.
Her final sigh and last scoop of vanilla ice cream being spooned into her mouth through plump glossy lips is what does it.
Fuckin’ weak, Cameron. Over some pussy?
“Uh, Gregory, I’m goin’ to this party too. I’m takin’ Sarah, there’s no reason why I can’t keep an eye out for Milan too.”
If looks could fuckin’ kill.
Ward is staring Rafe down with a look that would have a weaker man retracting his offer immediately, but the bright smile that plastered across Milan’s face made Rafe stand his ground.
Gregory is simply pensive. His eyes flick between his daughter and the Cameron siblings. “How old did you say you were again?”
“21, sir.”
Gregory’s brows furrow as he looks Rafe over again, before turning to Ward. “Reminds me of my boy. Protective over his sister and her friends. Good stuff, Cameron.” He turns back to Rafe with a menacing look on his face. “Back like I sent her, Rafe.”
“Of course, Gregory.”
The older man couldn’t have known what he just allowed.
“Fuck, Sarah, how long does it take?”
“I didn’t even want to ride with you, Rafe, John B. could’ve picked up me and Milan-”
“Yeah, well, her dad put me in charge of her safety, Sarah, and actually, Dad put me in charge of yours, so-”
“Oh my God, don’t act like…like you’re doing some noble thing, okay? I know why you offered to take us, cause you leave me all the time-”
“You don’t know shit, alright, Sarah?” Rafe groans, backing out of his spot and turning out of their street.
“I know plenty, and I know you’re tryin’ to fuck Milan.”
“So what?”
“So what?” Sarah tosses her hair angrily, shifting in the passenger seat. “So, you’re fucking nuts, and she’s actually a nice girl. So, Dad’s doing business with her dad, that’s so what, Rafe.”
“I like, genuinely don’t need you telling me shit about shit Sarah, like for real.”
“I really hope her brother is fucking huge, so he can kick your ass.”
Rafe snorts, slowing the car down a little and turning down the music as he pulls into the Cabot’s neighborhood. “Yeah, maybe right? Cause God knows your little pogue bitches have tried and failed.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Rafe looks at the large house found at the address that Gregory had given him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Get in the back seat.”
“Are you serious-”
“Back seat, Sarah, Jesus!” He huffs, slamming the car door and making his way up the walkway, stopping on the freshly laid cobblestone when the heavy, double wooden doors swing open.
“Bye, Dad, I’ll see you later!”
If Rafe had thought the dress Milan had on earlier was something, this skimpy number she trots out in would test any man. The girl absently twirls in her outfit. It’s a white two piece set consisting of a long, see-through skirt, barely hiding her white bikini bottoms and matching cropped top. His eyes trail along the dips in her waist, catching on the dimples on her back before finding the matching ones on her cheeks. All he could think is how perfectly his thumbs would fit in both sets of dimples. “Hi, Rafe.”
He tilts his head back, openly staring down at her appreciatively. “Don’t you look cute.”
With the shy smile that overtakes her face he all but expects the girl to melt under his gaze. Rafe is pleasantly surprised when she lifts her shoulder before brushing past him to make her way toward the car. “Thank you, I know.”
He chuckles to himself as the heels of her sandals clack on the cobblestone and stop just before the passenger door. Milan purses her lips without even considering touching the handle, rocking on her feet and swinging her purse absently as she waits patiently for him to come open it, just smiling when Sarah calls from inside the vehicle, ‘it’s unlocked.’
Rafe doesn’t know what moves him. Normally, he left girls to hoist themselves into his car as he hopped in himself on the driver’s side. But he could tell, this girl didn’t even conceive that she should be the one to open the door. No, she expected him to help. To care of it. And used her pretty little grin as his payment once he gets the picture and pulls the door open and offers her his hand to settle her into the seat. “You uh, you comfortable?”
She’d already pulled down the mirror and was reapplying the lipgloss Rafe was determined to taste, humming absently to herself. “Hm? Oh, yeah.”
Not a thought behind those pretty eyes, huh?
I like that.
Milan watches out of the window as they pass by trees and grassy nooks. String lights twinkling as they ride by, people selling produce on the side of the road. The salty smell of water in the air through the open window. She could see Sarah in the backseat, smiling to herself as she texted on her phone. Milan’s own phone lights up as she receives the girl’s message. The two of them had really gotten along when they met at dinner earlier. She wasn’t expecting the blonde girl to be so kind and welcoming. The entire family had been really kind. Wheezie was a cute kid and Rose seemed like every other tired housewife in their world. A little fake, but ultimately harmless. Ward seemed strict like her dad. He seemed to grit his teeth angrily at almost everything his family said, only to offer a wide smile when her own dad seemed pleased, or at the least unbothered.
And Rafe. Rafe was…cute. Hot, he’s hot. He’s handsome and tall, and can talk to her dad about all that business shit she didn’t give a shit to try and understand. And he’s attracted to her. Milan can tell. His eyes were shooting between their fathers and her the whole dinner. She felt the intensity of them even as she reapplied her lip gloss, as she chatted with his sister, when she’d taken a selfie as she leaned against the headrest, posing both for the camera and him.
But for some reason he’s wound so tight. As hot as it is, it can’t be healthy how frequently that muscle in his jaw jumps, keeping in rhythm with the bounce of his leg and the drumming on his fingers. Milan’s eyes flick across his movements and her lips part as she considers asking him if he was okay. Her voice catches in her throat when sharp, blue lands on deep brown and his brows raise as if he were asking a sarcastic ‘yes?’ When she shrugs lightly, smiling in return, he sends her a smirk before turning his gaze back to the road, peeling off at the light and turning up the music playing on the speaker to drown out his sister’s chatting.
Milan blinks at the heat she feels on her face and refocuses on her phone, opening her messages from Sarah.
Sorry about my brother. He’s a dick. When we get to the party you can hang with me. :)
The party was apparently at some house on the beach. Young adults were filling the walls of the building, spilling out onto the sand and grass. The music booms in the night air, and the smells of salt and weed fills their lungs.
Sarah pulls Milan along, their arms looped together as she guides her away from Rafe as quickly as possible. The man is clearly disinterested in following, offering Milan a brush on the shoulder before stalking off toward the back of the house, calls of his name in greeting following his arrival.
“Oh okay, yeah, my friends are in the kitchen, c’mon.” Sarah tugs her the rest of the way, leading Milan to the dark kitchen over to a crowd of people. She recognizes one of the guys as the guy on Sarah’s phone. John B. she said his name was. Apparently, normally, Sarah stays with him at his house but Ward had asked her to come around today to meet with Milan’s family, and she did it because they were trying to ‘rebuild their family’. “Hi.”
John B. turns to her immediately, a grin spreading on his face as he pulls Sarah to him, effectively separating her and Milan. “Hi, baby.”
His loud blond friend with his arms draped around a pretty girl with brown skin peaks his head out from behind them, pausing mid story, and drunkenly causing his girl to stumble with him. The girl follows his gaze and offers her a kind smile, pushing the blond by his face, laughing at whatever he’s mumbling in her ear. “Hi,” she calls over the music. “I’m Angel. This drunk dumbass is JJ.” She huffs, as he gives Milan a wide grin and nod before guiding Angel’s face back to his.
The tall guy next to him is flanked by a shorter light skinned girl and a girl pouring shots, laughing with Sarah, calling her a lightweight with a thick accent. “Cleo. You want one?”
“Yeah, I’ll take a shot.” Milan shrugs. Her eyes squeeze shut as the liquid slides down her throat, burning it and her mouth. She shakes her head, before letting the warm feeling spread in her belly. A hand on her elbow grabs her attention and has her looking over her shoulder.
“Come dance with me.”
It’s some random guy, already tugging her toward the crowd of moving bodies, not waiting for her reply. “Oh, no thanks.” Milan plants her feet, stumbling a little against his pulling.
“C’mon, you don’t like to dance?”
“No, I just don’t want to dance with you.” Milan chirps, glancing down at her nails to make sure he hadn’t made her accidentally knock a gem off. She watches as the guy’s face shifts from shock to a deep frown. He roughly releases her arm and storms off. She takes a couple steps back to where Sarah and her group are standing, seeing all of the couples wrapped into each other. The light skinned girl reaches her hand across the island counter to get her attention.
“You good? I was about to make my way over. The guys on this island are entitled assholes.”
“Yeah, that’s guys everywhere. It’s never the cute ones that come to you, huh?”
“Nah, it’s generally the creeps and losers who feel bold.” The girl laughs. “I’m Kie, Kiara.”
“Milan. Do you feel like dancing?”
Kiara shrugs, mumbling a ‘why not’ glancing back at her own friends before taking Milan’s hand and leading her toward the sea of people dancing. Milan twirls Kie as they step onto the makeshift dance floor smiling as they begin dancing together. The two girls take turns spinning each other, holding each other’s hips and guiding their dance. Milan can feel several pairs of eyes on them as they rock against each other, the base of the drum in her ears and chest. But her eyes only searched for one set in particular. She allows Kiara to turn her and flips her hair out of her face. And then they are. Steely blue.
Rafe blows smoke from his nose before licking his thumb, flicking through the stack of cash Kelce had just shoved into his hand. “Aight.” He nods, reaching his jacket pocket and producing a small bag of coke. He’d been giving Sarah and Milan space. For one, because he genuinely does not give a fuck what his hoe ass sister does. If she doesn’t give a fuck about the Cameron name then she could take that dirty pogue’s. On Milan’s end, Rafe was exercising self-restraint. He knows that now that they’re away from their families it wouldn’t take long for him to crack. She’d looked fucking gorgeous earlier that day, and even more so at dinner. Now that they were at a party, and he could take a fuckin’ second to breathe outside of Ward’s scrutiny…he’d break eventually. He was relying Sarah to keep her busy and away from him so he didn’t end up fucking her and fucking up the deal their fathers were trying to work out.
“What the fuck? That’s it?”
Rafe’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend. “Yeah, you fuckin’ druggy, told you I needed to go see my supplier. Your fiend ass didn’t wanna fuckin’ wait, so take it.”
“Shit.” Kelce scratches his head, scooping out some of the white powder and leaning forward on the couch to line it up on the coffee table. “Hey, that’s the girl from before right? At the club?”
Rafe looks up to find Milan across from him in the other room. He watches as she twirls and rolls her hips against Kiara’s. Her shiny dark hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder and her pretty lips mouth along to the song that’s blasting throughout the house. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he watches her movements, completely unaware of the group of girls trying to flirt with him and offer him a bump on the couch next to him.
When they lock eyes her smile grows even brighter and his own becomes wolfish. Her movements become even more daring, she dips low, arching her back before coming back up quickly, flipping her hair and rolling her full body. Her hands cover Kiara’s on her hips as she puts on a show for him.
Rafe chuckles darkly under his breath as he drinks her in, sitting back against the couch comfortably as if he’d paid for this little performance.
It all ends too quickly.
The song changes and Kiara leans into Milan’s ear, murmuring something and making a smoke motion before heading toward the sliding door in the kitchen. The girl is gone for like a few fucking seconds before the fuckin’ loser bastards that had been lurking around them pounce on Milan. Crowding her, trying to usher her into a dance.
She pushes up onto her tiptoes, looking over some guy’s shoulder to regain eye contact with Rafe, an offer in her eyes as she motions him over with her finger.
Shaking his head and smirking, Rafe pats his knee, challenging her. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she gently shakes her own head, and gestures for him to come to her with a single finger.
“Rafeeee, you got anymore?” A whiny voice calls to him.
Right. He was supposed to be moving weight. Damn girl is distracting him. “Uh, yeah, I’m low right now, so I’ve only got baggies, aight?”
“That’s fine,” the girl says flirtily. He rolls his eyes as he feels her hand on his knee. “You have discounts for pretty girls?”
His eyes drag back over to Milan and his jaw immediately clenches. She’s still facing him, but this time she had someone decidedly less acceptable in Rafe’s eyes clutching her. He watches as some prick who he used to play league basketball with when they were fuckhead teenagers basically nutting on Milan’s back. Rafe’s lip curls as he watches the girl dance for this guy. He couldn’t even think of his fucking name. Milan catches his eyes again, looking at him through her pretty lashes, shrugging absently. Seemingly completely unbothered by the goddamn loser basically humping her like a dog. Rafe feels his head swim dangerously and his stomach turn as he watches weak hands trail along her perfect body. Her brow quirks at him once before she turns in the guys arms, turning her back on Rafe.
“Rafe?” The girl to his side looks at him questioningly, briefly trying to follow his gaze with her drug-addled brain, giving up and leaning on him again.
“Uh, right, I’ll give it up for $200.”
The girl’s eyes widen as she looks back at her friends who gesture for her to try again. She smiles at Rafe and tilts her head toward him. “Um, how much if we can hang out a little upstairs after?”
“Oh shit.” Kelce chuckles, sniffing and wiping his nose.
Rafe rolls his eyes. He’s so used to girls offering to sleep with him or suck his dick for drugs. Usually they at least ask him to give it to them for free, this girl was gonna fuck him for a discount. He rarely takes advantage of it, on doing it if he was trying to hit anyway. Really, he doesn’t have to exchange free drugs for getting his dick wet. Fuckin’ look at him.
Right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for random pussy. Not when he literally can’t fucking see Milan in his line of sight anymore. And that fucking idiot that was grinding his dick on her was fucking gone too. He needed to look for her ASAP. “You got the $200 or what?”
The girl huffs and digs in her purse, dropping the money in his extended hand and snatching the bag off the table, grumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath as she and her friends stumble outside.
As soon as Rafe pockets money he goes to shoot off of the couch to hunt Milan down, only to be stopped before he can fully stand.
“Is that cocaine?”
Milan’s sweet voice puts him on red alert. Rafe settles back into his seat and looks at her. She’s staring down at the table worriedly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands in the doorway. “Was that guy a friend of yours?”
“You didn’t wanna dance.” she pouts.
“Okay?”
“And I wanted to dance.”
Brat. “So you, uh, just dance with some random dick instead?” He asks, giving her a disappointed look and relishing in the way she shifts under his gaze.
Interestingly enough, even with his glare, she doesn’t back down, pursing her own lips and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Jeez, you’re strict, I feel bad for Sarah. Is that cocaine?”
“Yeah, I just provide a little party favor for my friends here and there. What, you want a bump?” He starts to test her limits, resting a large, warm hand on her thigh, feeling her through the thin fabric of her skirt. Careful not to move and startle her.
“I don’t do coke. D’you?”
It’s her wide-eyed look. The dimpled frown as she glances back down to the white substance on the table. She gives herself away to him easily. Milan is a good girl. She’s just a good girl who knows she’s pretty. That’s what the whole dance was about. She was being cute. That’s what she does. But she’s not really about shit. Daddy’s girl with a protective older brother. Two dragons guarding their little princess. Never had anyone tell her no and mean it. If Rafe used the logic in his brain, he would know, he’s too much. What he expects of the girls he hooks up with. God forbid dates. He’d turn this pretty little thing out. He should be nice, and leave her alone.
But Rafe isn’t a nice guy. Not really.
“‘Course not, can’t get high on my own supply.” He smoothes a thumb over her knee. “Don’t worry, Princess, it can’t jump off the table and get you.”
Kelce snorts and Milan’s brows furrow. Rafe whips his head around to his friend, nudging him sharply and sending him a silent message. “Oh, uh, I’m gonna get another drink. I’ll be back.” Rafe sends him another look. “Or I won’t.”
As soon as Kelce gets up, Rafe scoots over on the couch, holding one of Milan’s hands and guiding her onto it with him. “That was one of your friends from earlier right? At the country club?”
“Yeah, Kelce, he’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He says absently, reaching over and grabbing the blunt he’d abandoned when he’d started dealing, re-lighting it. “You don’t smoke weed either, huh?”
Milan shrugs, scooting closer. “I just don’t know how to do it by myself.”
God she’s just fuckin’ perfect isn’t she? Rafe hangs his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. It’s like she was sent as a test. She’s already bad as shit, she’s just sitting here, damn near in his lap with her big fuck-me eyes and wide-open personality. She knows she’s sexy and that’s just about it. But her dad let her go because he was supposed to be responsible. That’s big money on the table, and Ward would fuckin’ kill him if he was distracted by the opportunity to hit on the literal oil baron’s daughter. “Figures, pretty thing like you can’t do anything by herself. What, you need me to light it for you?”
“I’ve only ever had someone shotgun it for me.” She says.
Rafe’s hand is at the back of her head, fist in her hair before he can even realize what he’s doing. He pulls her close, tugging her against him and halting right before she hits his lips. He brings the blunt to his own lips, inhaling the smoke before leaning even closer, drunk on the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah?”
When she gasps out a breath, offering him a little nod, already puckering her plump, lips for him.
Fuck it. Rafe thinks.
He could be a responsible man for his dad tomorrow.
#oc#love#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#sarah cameron#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#obx#rafe cameron x oc#milan cabot#what are you willing to do?
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After Ever (Chapter 2)
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pair: sylus x MC (named)
tags/tw: cannon adjacent, made up medical shit, lowkey hippa violation, cursing, death & grief
word count: 7.3k
song rec: taste by sabrina carpenter (has nothing to do with this chapter but it is just so good)
taylor song rec: I Know Places (it's the arctic)
a/n: this one is gonna be a bit choppy cause we have so much to get through BUT we get to meet Pie, so ur welcome. also, please leave feedback or comment 🥺
important: if you want to follow this fic and updates but don't want to follow me bc im annoying (understandable) check out the tag #after ever fanfiction
Kore arrived at the Hunter’s Association’s headquarters exhausted. She got on the crowded elevator drinking the last of her coffee while she waited for the elevator to arrive on her floor. With a ding, the doors opened. She pushed her way through the few people left and stepped out onto her floor, business as usual.
Upon arriving at her cubicle the first thing she did, primarily out of habit, was plug in her laptop. She brought her travel mug to her lips, hoping it would revitalize her energy only to find that the thermos was empty. Grumbling, she made her way to the breakroom.
Being the first person on her floor to arrive, or at least first in the breakroom, she was forced or cursed to brew a fresh pot of coffee. While waiting for the coffee to brew, Kore leaned back against the countertop with her head back and eyes closed, rubbing her temples.
“Wow, you’re here early,” a voice said. Immediately Kore’s eyes snapped open to find Tara on her way to sit at a table.
“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well come in and get some work done,” Kore said, her voice gravely from lack of use. She cleared her throat and went over to sit down by Tara. “What are you doing here this early anyways,” she questioned her friend.
“Oh, I always get here this early. I find it nice to be able to get settled before everyone comes in. Plus I think it gives a good impression to the Captain being here early,” Tara responded, eyes sparkling while talking about Jenna, their boss.
“But are you alright,” Tara asked, reaching out across the table, “I mean this with all of the love in the world, but you look like shit.”
“Well thank you for that,” Kore chuckled. She hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror after her all-nighter. Although she was no stranger to lack of sleep, Kore’s sleep schedule had been becoming more regular and socially acceptable, that is until the accident.
“I mean it’s a good thing we have this long weekend, am I right,” Tara said reassuringly before a spark of anxiety met her eyes, “You do have the weekend off right, you’re not one of the poor hunter’s that got stuck working over the holiday are you?”
“No, don't worry, I’ll be able to get some rest this weekend,” Kore reassured her friend. The coffee maker beeped, signaling that it had completed brewing. “Oh thank God,” Kore said in relief, getting up and pouring half of the pot directly into her large travel mug. She chugged most of it, burning her tongue in the process, but she didn’t care, she was too desperate to get more caffeine coursing through her veins. She was in the middle of refilling her thermos when Tara spoke again.
“Jeez, I’d say to chill it with the coffee but you look like you might need it,” she said jokingly. Kore offered her a playful glare in return. They heard the elevator to their floor at the end of the hallway ding through the open door. “I’m just saying. Anyways, I gotta get going, I think Capitan Jenna is here,” Tara said with a little wink before exiting.
Kore rolled her eyes before putting the pot back so it stayed warm. She exited the break room making a B-line for her cubicle. Upon arriving the computer’s screen caught her attention. Opened was the blank draft of the email she was going to send last night to Dr. J Higgins, the metaflux researcher. Sitting down at the desk, Kore rolled out her shoulders before typing out a message.
Hello Dr. Higgins, this is Kore. I work for the Hunter’s Association and was wondering if you would be available to answer some questions about the recent metaflux explosions that we are currently looking into.
She continued drafting the email leaving her contact information at the very end and hit the send button before she could second guess herself. Kore leaned back in her chair stretching, hoping that the day would be busy so she had something to occupy her busy mind.
By the time lunch had rolled around Kore was bored out of her mind, work had been slow and it was just one report after another. The appearances of wanderer had been minimal enough that other members of the UNICORNS team— she always found that to be a dumb acronym — were able to take care of it, which was strange because recently wanderer sightings had been on the rise.
Earlier in the day she had sent a message to Zayne asking if he knew anything about what was in the documents that he had given her the day before. She hadn’t heard back from him until late afternoon.
“I had my suspicions about what was in them but I couldn’t be certain.” - Zayne
“If you would like we can go over it together later tonight” - Zayne
“That sounds wonderful. I’ve been confused” - Kore
“Okay. See you soon then.” - Zayne
Before she knew it, the day was over and Kore was packing up her stuff. After taking the stairs down to the lobby, Kore was shocked to find Zayne standing off to the side looking the other way. She ran over to him and tapped him on his shoulder. He jumped a little before turning, a look of relief flashed across his face for the briefest moment upon seeing who it was.
“Kore, where did you come from? I thought you were coming from over there, he said, slightly confused, pointing at the other set of elevators on the other side of the lobby.
“I took the stairs, you know, for my health and all,” Kore responded with a cheeky smile.
“Ahhh,” Zayne said trailing off. He looked off into space for the briefest moment before shaking his head and snapping back into reality. “Should we get going then?” he asked, gesturing ahead, which she nodded to.
The two fall into step on their way out the door. On the way to Kore’s apartment they had decided to stop and grab some take out for dinner. They fell into a comfortable conversation about each of their days, Kore being particularly interested in the research Zayne was working on. The pair stepped off the elevator onto Kore’s floor and walked together to her door.
“...and that’s how Protocore Syndrome type N works,” Zayne concluded as Kore unlocked and opened her door. What met them was a disaster, her apartment was still an absolute wreck from last night when she had torn it apart looking for her charger.
“Um… It doesn’t usually look like this,” Kore said to Zayne sheepishly. She guided him into her home and cleared off the table, moving the box of documents to the countertop. She then went to grab plates and silverware so that they could eat. Zayne unboxed the Thai food. They both dished up their food and sat down to eat. An awkward silence enveloped the atmosphere. Unwilling to wait, Kore got up and grabbed the documents to go through while they ate.
“Okay, so here they are, it says some things about how my heart has an Aether Core in it, but I don’t even know what that fucking is, and it says something about me being tested on but I don’t remember that at all, but it also says that my Grandma was involved somehow, her name is all over those papers, but that just can’t be right,” Kore started all in one breath, spilling out the thoughts that had been consuming her mind. She took a deep breath and continued, handing the folders over to him, “I just can’t imagine her doing something like that at all. I’m just confused, I mean what does this all mean?” By the time she ended her speech she was near tears.
“I am not that knowledgeable about aether cores, but I know someone who is. Let me read the documents and see what I can find before we go any further,” Zayne said, pushing his plate away and opening the first folder. He put on his glasses that he had pulled from his suit pocket.
Kore was so nervous that she could no longer stomach eating, so she took her plate and put the food in the trash before setting it in the sink. She grabbed the to-go boxes from the table and put them in the fridge for safe keeping. Looking over at Zayne his eyes were uncharacteristically wide so Kore pulled up a chair next to him and sat down.
Zayne looked over at her before positioning the papers so that they could both read them. The words that she read last night staring back at her almost mocking her. Zayne cleared his throat before speaking, pushing up his glasses.
“It’s saying that the reason your Protocore Syndrome is so different, unlike anything I have ever seen before, is because it was intentional,” Zayne explained, an atypical aura of uncertainty shrouded his words. “If this is to be believed, the condition in your heart is the product of an aether core being placed there.
“A good doctor knows his limits and there is more in these papers that I can’t fully comprehend, but my mentor Dr Noah would likely be a better resource when it comes to this.
“However the excessive redaction in some of these documents,” Zayne said, pulling out a few from the pile, “could make it difficult for even Dr Noah to understand. I can’t offer you any guarantees, but I can provide you with some contact information if you would like.”
“Dr. Noah?” Kore questioned, “He was my old doctor, before you were. Didn’t he go to the Arctic to study something?”
“That’s right, I am surprised you know that, Kore,” Zayne responded, “He’s currently in Snowcrest studying the ways in which-” Zayne's eyes went wide and he cut himself off. He straightened his tie to regain his composure before continuing saying, “Actually I am not allowed to discuss his research. But I go and visit him sometimes to assist him.”
The gears started turning in her head, completely glossing over Zayne’s slip of tongue. I have a long weekend, I could go up to Snowcrest tomorrow and be back before work. That way I can get answers and that can lead me to closure. I know I promised Tara I would rest, but that can happen later, this is more important.
“I recognize that look in your eyes from when we were kids. I don’t think that it is a good idea to go up to Snowcrest, Kore,” Zayne said somewhat sternly, “The weather up there is often unpredictable, it wouldn’t be safe for you to go to a place you’ve never been all by yourself.”
“Then why don’t you come with me,” Kore said excitedly as if it was the best idea in the world.
“You’re not going to give this up are you?” Zayne questioned after a moment’s pause and long sigh. The look in her eyes is all the answer he needs. “Alright, we can go tomorrow, you need to get some sleep, it is a long journey.”
With that he stood up and went to the door, Kore following behind him. Before he left her apartment, Zayne hesitated at the door before turning back around.
“However Kore, there is one more important thing in these files that I think you need to know; it seems that your Grandma was one of the researchers involved with the Aether Core being placed in your heart,” Zayne said in his usual even tone, but his eyes were filled with empathy.
“Oh,” Kore responded meekly. After a beat she continued, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, right? Meet at the train station?”
“Right,” Zayne said, looking concerned, but nodding anyways “have a good night, Kore.”
Ignoring the doctor’s advice, after he left she returned to the files at the table, pouring over them until the words lost all of their meanings. At this point she had been awake for well over 36 hours, and she was struggling to keep her eyes open.
Kore woke up to a streak of sunlight directly on her face. The confusion of why she was plastered to her dining room table lingered until she remembered she was reading late into the night.
Shit, I am supposed to be meeting Zayne at the station soon, Kore thought to herself. Checking her watch she realized it was much later than she thought it was. In a panicked state she quickly grabbed all of the papers, placing them back in the box and packed a bag for the weekend. If asked about it she probably couldn’t tell you for certain what was in there, but she made it out the door on time so that was all that mattered.
Once she arrived at the train station, Kore put her hands on her knees, taking a moment to catch her breath. She looked around for Zayne and spotted him at a nearby cafe. He somehow spotted her at the same time and waved her over with the faintest hint of a smile.
“Hi-” Kore says at the same time Zayne starts speaking.
“I was worried you weren’t going to make it on time,” Zayne said as he stood up from his seat, placing a large tip on the table.
“Sorry about that, I woke up a bit late,” Kore said apologetically. Zayne gave her a single nod in return as if saying her response was acceptable. The two of them started walking over to the platform to wait for their train.
“I did some digging into aether cores, but there wasn’t too much literature out there on it, as far as I can tell they are a type of modified protocore, but as for how they are modified or to what extent I do not know” he said, cutting right to the chase. “I also alerted Dr. Noah of your presence on this trip,” he added
“What do you mean ‘my presence’?” Kore questioned him as they walked over to the train.
“He was already expecting me.” Zayne calmly said, “I was going up this weekend to assist Dr. Noah in his research, he said he had something important to show me.”
“Zayne, how do you know Dr. Noah again?” Kore asked.
“Dr. Noah was one of my professors when I was in medical school. When I arrived at Akso Hospital he was about to retire from his position as Chief Medical Officer, but despite that he still helped me adjust to the new setting. He became a mentor to me while I was in my residency, and I owe a lot to him. Now that he has retired I do what I can to help him.”
While Zayne talked the train to Snowcrest pulled up to the platform and they boarded the train, managing to snag a private compartment. Kore plopped down onto the seat and Zayne looked at her closely for the first time that morning. He saw the prominent dark circles and bags underneath her eyes and sighed in clear disappointment.
“I see you didn’t follow my advice last night,” Zayne said, shaking his head, “It is not wise to ignore your doctor’s orders, you know.” Kore could only give him a guilty smile.
Zayne sighed again, “It will be a while before we arrive in Snowcrest. Rest until then and I will wake you once we arrive.”
“Kore,” a voice said, while a hand shook her shoulder gently. Her eyes opened and she blinked groggily, once her eyes got into focus she saw Zayne crouching in front of her. “We arrived,” he continued, standing back as Kore stretched.
“Alright, let’s get going I suppose,” Kore yawned out.
Outside of the station, in the dim light, they were met with a sparkling white landscape of snow. A small fox-like creature came bounding up for them, which scared Kore, who hadn’t noticed its presence prior nor did she expect such a thing to occur.
The fox ended directly in front of Zayne and eagerly wagged its tail. Kore raised an eyebrow to the man, who took some food out of his messenger bag to give to the animal.
“This is Pie,” Zayne said, turning to Kore. “Pie, this is Kore,” Zayne introduced her to the animal, to which Kore sent him a curious glance. “Pie’s intelligence is on par with that of a nine-year-old child. Remarkably, he is able to recognize faces and remember names. Dr. Noah rescued him from Mount Eternal a few years back while he was doing some important research.
“It looks like Dr. Noah was unable to greet us at the station so he sent Pie in his stead,” Zayne explained further and Kore nodded in understanding.
Together they trekked in relative silence to the outskirts of the village to where Dr. Noah was residing. Upon arriving at his house, Zayne opened one of the back doors as if it was a regular routine and beckoned Kore to follow.
“Dr. Noah’s health isn’t what it used to be. Sometimes when I or some of my colleagues come up he has us let ourselves in,” Zayne said, navigating the home’s hallways with familiarity, “If he doesn’t show up at the station that means that we should let ourselves in.
“Here is where you will be staying,” Zayne said, stopping at a door on the second floor. “I will be in the room right across from you,” Zayne said, pointing to another door behind him with his thumb. He turned around, heading to his room but hesitated. Kore’s hand was turning the doorknob when Zayne turned back.
“You should really try to get some rest tonight, Kore,” Zayne said with full sincerity, “I am not saying this as your doctor, but as your friend.”
“I’ll try,” she responded with a faint smile, “Goodnight, Zayne.”
“Good night, Kore,” he echoed.
At that, Kore entered her room and plopped down onto the twin sized bed, ready to get some sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come to her. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours. Her mind was so preoccupied with questions about everything that had happened to her recently. She couldn’t help but wonder if the files had any connection to her grandma’s death.
Eventually she abandoned all hope of sleep. Deciding she might as well be productive if she couldn’t rest, she plucked a box from her bag and sat down at the small desk by the balcony, which she just noticed.
She turned on the small lamp, illuminating the room with a dim warm light. She finds a pad of paper and a pencil at the desk and realizes that it would be wise of her to take some notes and not just reread them, that way she can ask better questions of Dr. Noah.
Hours past and she had obsessively written pages of notes that would be incoherent to anyone but her when there was a tap in the balcony window. Jumping in her seat, Kore turned to see what had caused the noise only to see Zayne staring back at her from the other side of the door.
Kore rose from her seat and went to the balcony. It was the earliest hours of the morning, when the sun was still shy and the stars are still shining bright. Zayne gave her a charming smile when she opened the door, moving aside to let him in.
“I had a feeling you would still be awake,” he said, stepping into the room. His gaze drifted over to the mess of papers on the desk and he raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Late night studying I see,” he said, reaching for the papers.
“Yeah, I have been trying to make sense of it all,” Kore said, picking up her pile of notes, handing them out to him “But it’s been exhausting and I don’t even know if I’m looking at the right stuff.”
“Okay, let’s see what you have so far,” Zayne said, grabbing the notes she held out to him. He attempted to read them, eyes squinting, but either because of the dim light or him not having his glasses he wasn’t sure.
“Hold on,” Zayne said before he stepped back through the balcony, returning moments later with his glasses in hand. “Alright, let’s take a look at this,” he said as he put on his glasses.
Kore giggled lightly at his demeanor, reminding her more of an old man than that of a young doctor. Zayne looked up at her confused as to what was so funny. She shook her head, refusing to elaborate on what she found to be humorous. He just gave her a weird look before directing his attention back onto her notes.
Reading them closer to the lamp this time with his glasses on, it turned out that the notes were just illegible to begin with, incomprehensible chicken scratch coated the page. The frantic, overlapping scribbles sent alarm bells off in Zayne’s mind, afterall, it was only natural for a doctor to be concerned about the well-being of their patient.
“Kore, what does this say,” Zayne asked without the hesitation that would be typical of not being able to read someone else’s penmanship. Grabbing back the notes, Kore looks over them, eyes becoming wide.
“I-I, I honestly don’t know what this says,” Kore admits, “I guess I was so wrapped up in my mind I wasn’t even looking at what I was writing.”
A brief pause circled between them before Kore bursted out in laughter, after a brief moment Zayne joined in and the atmosphere shifted. They end up dropping the important conversation and talk late into the night like old friends would. Kore talked about becoming a Hunter and the pressure of taking the exam, which brought them to discussing Zayne’s time in medical school, which led into stories about his time up here helping in research and anecdotes about Dr. Noah.
Soon enough morning arrived, beams of sunlight slowly crept their way across the room. Kore and Zayne’s conversation slowly started to dwindle with the appearance of daylight. Zayne notices the clock across the room and stands up.
“It looks like it might be time for breakfast, we should probably get ready” he said moving towards the balcony door, “I’ll meet you downstairs.” Before he left her field of view he stood there and calculated something in his mind.
“It was nice talking to you again, Kore,” Zayne said with a small, unsure smile. A large, genuine grin spread across Kore’s face, the biggest since her grandmother had died.
“I really enjoyed it too, I will see you in a bit, Zayne,” Kore said, shutting the door behind him. Zayne nodded and disappeared into his room.
Kore arrived in the kitchen after she had made a few wrong turns. The sight that met her was unexpected. At the stove Zayne was cooking something that smelled delicious and at the countertop Dr. Noah was chopping vegetables.
Before she could officially make her presence known a small ball of white fur came rushing over to her. Stopping at her feet, Pie sat wagging his tail and let out an excited yelp of sorts.
“Pie, not inside the house,” Dr. Noah scolded the fox. Looking up at the noise, he noticed Kore’s presence.
“Ah, Kore, I see you’ve already been introduced to Pie,” Dr. Noah said with a warm smile, his fondness for the pup clear in his voice. “It is nice to see you again. Come and join us, breakfast is just about ready,” he continued, passing the vegetables off to Zayne. He moved towards the small table in the corner of the kitchen and gestured for her to sit.
“Did Zayne tell you how Pie got his name?” the elderly man asked once they both sat down. Without waiting for a response he continued, “When I first rescued Pie, one, no two, no three winters ago, he was a weak little thing, and was practically on the verge of starvation.
“Well, the vet said that he was perfectly healthy but I don’t know about that,” he interrupted himself, wagging his finger. Zayne came over with the pan of food and divided the contents into three portions at the already set table. It was clear from the bored expression on his face that he had heard this tale many times. Dr. Noah paid no mind to him and kept on talking.
“The little thing was so hungry he ate not one, not two, not even three, but six whole meat pies at once,” the doctor said, making a bunch of exaggerated hand gestures, “At that point I knew for certain what his name would be, there was no question about it.
“After I nursed him back to health, I tried to release him back into the wild, like you’re supposed to do, but this little bugger kept coming back. It was clear he wanted to stay with me, so I kept him. It turns out that he is a smart little fella and mighty good with directions, so he has become my little guide. Visitors and the folks in town absolutely love him, and how could you not, he is such a good little boy.”
He showered the small fox with love while praising him, giving the animal scratches under its chin and some of the food off of his plate. Kore cleared her throat, sitting up straight as she did so. The old man looked at her with curiosity in his eyes, weaving his hands together and resting his head on them.
“Dr. Noah,” Kore started trying to gather some courage, “I have some questions about my heart condition and I think you might be the best person to ask.”
“Oh, my dear, it is much too early to talk business. There will be plenty of time for that later, for now let’s just enjoy each other’s company,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Dr. Noah believes in a strict separation between his work and personal life.” Zayne leaned in and said to Kore, “It is best to follow his wishes so you can stay in his good graces.” Kore noded in understanding.
“I haven’t seen you in so long, tell me, how are you doing, Kore,” Dr. Noah questioned her. She was about to form a response when he continued, which seemed to be a pattern for him these days, far from the patient man she once knew.
“I heard about Josephine, dear, and I want to offer my sincerest condolences,” he said, grasping her hands across the table.
“Thank you,” Kore responded, mildly uncomfortable. Zayne stayed as stone faced as ever, as if this was usual behavior for the man.
“You know, your grandmother and I used to good friends back in the day, we were two of the few students picked to intern at Ever, even back in the day they were a big deal, not quite the global behemoth they are today, but it was still a very competitive prestigious internship,” Dr. Noah recounted fondly. “Your grandmother was a phenomenal researcher, one of the best I’ve ever seen, and back then she had to be, I think she was one of the first women to get an internship at Ever too.
“But you should have seen her in the lab, well you technically did when you were younger, but I don't know if you remember that, either way I was disappointed when I learned she had decided to leave the field. Josephine was one of the greats , it really was a shame to have her leave, as far as I am concerned, science lost one of its best that day.”
“Thank you for telling me that, Dr. Noah,” Kore said, tears welling up in her eyes, the reverence that he held her grandma in being clear.
Zayne glanced at his watch and pointed out the time. “We’re going to be late if we don’t get going now,” he said.
Dr. Noah turned to the clock on the wall confirming the time.
“Well gee golly, you are right, thank you my boy,” the eccentric old man exclaimed while slapping his knee, “Let us all meet back here in let’s say 20 minutes, yes?” Dr. Noah turned to Kore, “Oh you are coming with us aren’t you, Kore?”
“Um… sure,” Kore said questioningly
“Great” he said with a genuine smile, patting her on the back and leaving.
“Um Zayne,” Kore said, anxiety creeping into her voice, “what did I just sign up for.”
“Don’t worry, you will be alright. We are going to Mt. Eternal to take some measurements. Just be sure to dress warm, it gets cold out there.” Zayne said before leaving her all alone in the kitchen.
Zayne hadn’t been lying, Mt. Eternal was practically a tundra. Kore learned about SnowDogs, a robotic replication of an old fashioned sled dog that was faster than real ones and was used by tourists and locals alike. Pie had tagged along as well and was yipping with joy as the SnowDog brought the team from checkpoint to checkpoint. The pair of doctors collected measurements for who knows what, not Kore, as they went along.
“Dr. Noah, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions,” Kore said, having to shout of the wind as the sled was being pulled to a new location.
“Yes, Kore,” Dr. Noah said, an aura of professionalism had enveloped him since they had reconvined, this was yet another side different from the friendly doctor she had known growing up.
“I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about my heart condition, I never really understood what was wrong with me,” Kore questioned, picking the doctor’s brain.
“Well that is a bit of a complex answer. You see Protocore Syndrome is a unique disease that is still being studied, there is not a lot of literature currently available. Most of what we have on the disease comes from small sample sizes and because each case presents so differently, studies are difficult to replicate,” he answered distractedly, as they had arrived at another of the data taking points.
“Although there are different established subcategories of Protocore Syndrome, namely types A, E, and Y, there have been proposals of a few more types. I have written papers about what I believe to be a distinct type of Protocore Syndrome, type H, which is the type that I believe you have. When you were a kid Josophine authorized the scientific study of your unique condition, which was why you were always in the hospital, as she knew how important the research was, especially in the early days of the disease.”
This new information had surprised Kore, her grandma had never told her about being the subject of a scientific study. Quickly, complex emotions developed on that, Kore understood that it would’ve been important, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by being used as a guinea pig without her knowledge.
“Your unique subtype presents various difficulties with your heart and nervous system, difficulties that are only exacerbated under pressure, which is why I warned you against becoming a hunter. But boy did Josophine give me a talking to after I did that. She had wanted you to have the ability to live a normal life and pursue your dreams, plus she said that you were ‘too damn stubborn’ to back down from becoming a Hunter.”
Dr. Noah continued on with more medical jargon leaving Kore lost. This man was clearly a genius, but he was communicating with her as if she was a peer of his rather than some clueless patient that had no idea what he was talking about.
“You were, excuse me, are an interesting case both medically and scientifically. In fact you were one of the reasons that I stayed a doctor for years after reaching the retirement age. Sometimes I wonder how you are doing. If you were to ever give me the honor, I would love to be able to see some of your more recent medical records,” Dr Noah admitted, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Umm… sure, yeah,” Kore said, stunned.
“If you would be comfortable with it Kore, I can pull up your records once we return to Dr. Noah’s house,” Zayne said. Kore was slightly taken aback that he even had remote access to her records, but Dr. Noah was beyond delighted with the news.
It was early in the evening, around dinner time, when the group returned from the mountain. The numerous layers that they had on for warmth were quickly discarded at the entryway. Ever true to his word, Zayne was quick to grab his tablet and pull up Kore’s recent medical records.
Before placing the tablet in Dr. Noah’s outstretched hand, Zayne said to him sternly, “As a former medical doctor I assume that I can trust you to only look at Kore’s files and not any other patient.”
“You have known me long enough boy to know that I would never do something like that,” Dr. Noah said with a trustworthy smile before waving the younger doctor off, “Now go and take your shower, I know the sweat bothers you. No need to suffer through it, besides Kore might want to hear some of what I have to say privately.”
Zayne looks between the two and gives them a stark nod before heading off.
“Now that we got him out of the way, we can get down to business,” the doctor joked before his eyes combed through her file. “It looks like your recent results have been changing a bit, but considering your position as a Hunter and your, uh… unique condition, that is to be expected.
“Would my unique condition have anything to do with what resides inside my heart,” Kore asked him, unsure of how much he truly knows.
“Ahh…” he said with a knowing smile, “It seems that you found out about the aether core. Am I right in assuming that?”
“Yes, I did learn about the aether core. How long were you and Grandma going to keep that from me,” Kore asked, the feeling of betrayal in her voice clear.
“It was not my decision whether or not to tell you about it. When I saw you, you were only just a kid. It was up to Josephine, your guardian, to decide to tell you what you needed to know,” he said with a sympathetic smile.
“Did Zayne even know about it?” Kore questioned accusingly
His smile dropped, a serious look overtaking his face, “No, he did not.”
“Don't you think that this would be important for, I don't know, my doctor to know about,” she said, her voice raising.
“Aether cores are considered to be top secret. I could not tell him even if I wanted to-” Dr. Noah was cut off.
“So you wanted to keep him in the dark, just like you kept me?” Kore growled.
“Look, my hands were tied, there wasn’t much I could do,” he said, attempting to pacify her. “If I was able to tell you I would, it wasn’t up to me, the same thing with Zayne. I am sorry, Kore, but there is more at play here than you know. That is all I can say on it.
“Would you like to return to your records and we can discuss it in more detail now?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Kore said as she crossed her arms, clearly still upset from the whole ordeal.
“Alright, so it is important to understand a bit more about Protocore Syndrome to understand why you are such a special case. You see, Protocore Syndrome is usually caused by exposure to protocores, but that isn’t the case for you,” Dr. Noah started.
“You have a modified protocore, an aether core, inside of your body. I am not quite sure how it got there but your grandma had told me that you were attacked by wanderers during the Chronorift Catastrophe fourteen years ago. You were among the first people ever to be attacked by them, especially attacked by them and survive. Quite frankly you are lucky to be alive from that alone.
“Josephine also told me that you were saved by someone who took out the wanderers that were attacking you, which, again, is a miracle considering we had no idea how to deal with them at the time.
“With this information I have always hypothesized that when the wanderer attacking you was killed, that fractured its protocore, and somehow part of if ended up residing in your heart. I cannot be for sure how it happened as by the time I had first seen you, any external injuries from the attack had healed.”
For the first time, probably since Kore met him, Dr. Noah seemed to be uncertain about what he was saying, almost as if he knew more than he was letting on. Unsure what to make of that, Kore filed it away in her brain for later. Nonetheless, Dr Noah continued on.
“There is also an issue with your Evol. It is relatively rare for someone with Protocore Syndrome to have. But, it is seen more in those with aether cores.”
“You mean there’s more people like me?” Kore asked, intrigued for the first time.
“I only know about a handful of people, but yes there are more like you,” the doctor said reassuringly, however he was quick to walk some of his statement back, “Of course I cannot share much about them with you, and even I am not privy to such knowledge.” The doctor chuckled a little as if he was trying to make her forget his slip up.
“Well, anyways, I should probably be starting on dinner soon,” he said, changing the subject.
“Do you need any help Dr. Noah?” Kore asked, standing up.
“No, no, no. Sit back down. Besides, you are a guest here, I wouldn’t dare make you lift a finger,” he said while pulling out a large stockpot and potatoes.
“Well, what about Zayne, wasn’t he helping earlier with breakfast?”
“Oh, no, he doesn’t count. He has been here far too many times and he needs to start pulling his weight around here,” Dr. Noah said, struggling to carry the pot full of water to the stove.
“If I can’t help with dinner then what can I do,” Kore asked, getting antsy.
“My dear girl, didn’t you hear what I just said? You are a guest here,” he said before pausing, “If you insist on doing something why don’t you sit and listen to an old man’s stories? But you have to stay seated.”
Kore sighed defeatedly, but nodded in agreement. Content with her response, Dr. Noah smiled at her as he pulled out a cutting board.
“Would you like to hear some stories about your grandma?” he asked, seeing Kore’s face change to one of interest he continued, “Where to start… Ah, I know..” As he cooked, the old doctor told Kore stories about how he had met her grandmother and the antics they used to get up to.
He continued to speak, cutting vegetables haphazardly as he went, causing them to be in all different sizes and shapes. Kore wasn’t sure if he knew what he was cooking, or if he even knew how to cook. He would use the large chef’s knife that he was wielding to make wild gestures as he talked.
“... she always had a soft spot for you and Caleb, even before she adopted you when the experiment was forced to stop,” his eyes went wide as he realized what he had just said, “Whoops, sorry I can’t talk about that. I mean it’s just the ramblings of a silly old man, pay me no mind.”
Kore’s eyebrows furrowed. What the hell is he talking about? Grandma adopted us after we were orphaned during the Catastrophe. Is his memory okay? Kore thought to herself, confused and concerned. But there was already a seedling of doubt in her mind from the fact she had never told her about the aether core.
It was just then that Zayne made a reappearance. Dr. Noah sighed in relief as he walked in and the focus was shifted away from himself.
“Perfect timing, Zayne,” he said with a big smile, “Dinner is just about ready, why don’t you get out some bowls and spoons to set the table.” Zayne did what he was told. “Oh, and grab that loaf of bread over there, and some butter too, it will pair well with our soup.”
Zayne had an uncharacteristic look of horror that flashed over his face, which was missed by Kore and Dr. Noah alike. He hadn’t even thought about the doctor cooking by himself; he had been so used to helping him in the kitchen the realization that Kore wouldn’t be never crossed his mind.
Humming happily to himself, Dr. Noah ladled large servings of the soup, into each bowl. He insisted that both Zayne and her start eating right away while he returned the pot to the stove, continuing to mess around in the kitchen.
Beyond hungry from the long day, Kore eagerly started to eat. The soup, or was it a stew, was an otherworldly experience, just not in a good way. Stunned that the elder man was able to create something that was practically a non-Newtonian fluid, she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
She had no idea that something could be bland yet overwhelming. The last time she had tasted something this salty it was when she was a kid making cookies and Caleb switched the salt and the sugar. Caleb had found his prank hilarious… until he got excited about the cookies and stuffed about three in his mouth. Grandma, who had intended to punish him for the prank, found the whole thing funny and decided that he had punished himself enough. Although annoying at the time it was now a fond memory, even more so now that they were gone.
“In his old age, Dr. Noah’s taste buds have gotten dull,” Zayne whispered leaning into Kore, “don’t worry about actually eating it. If you would like, you can just pretend to so you don’t have to worry about hurting his feelings. After dinner I will clean up and make it seem like you ate the entire bowl.”
Noise radiated from the kitchen, clearly Dr. Noah was looking for something, there was a small grumble of curses before he gave up and returned to the table, clearly upset.
“Oh, there’s the bread!” he said joyously. The old man chuckled to himself and sat down. He was quick to devour his bowl of soup and did so eagerly. He even went to go and grab seconds.
“What did you guys talk about while I was away?” Zayne asked, folding his hands on the table. Kore found it to be a thinly veiled attempt to avoid eating the soup, Dr. Noah, however, paid it no mind.
“I was just telling Kore over here some stories about Josephine and our time back in school. She was quite a riot,” he said, seemingly delighted to share. “You know, come to think of it, she isn’t the only/first colleague of mine who interned with me at Ever to die recently. There was also James Higgins -”
Kore looked up at that name and her stomach dropped. “James Higgins? As in Dr. James Higgons, the professor at Linkon University studying metaflux?” she asked worriedly.
“The very same, did you know him?” Dr. Noah responded.
“No,” Kore admitted dejectedly. Zayne gave her a questioning look to which she mouthed ‘later’ to.
“Ironically enough it was a metaflux explosion that killed him,” the doctor continued, glossing right over Kore’s response. She sat quietly for the rest of dinner.
Next >
#after ever fanfiction#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads#lads fanfic#l&ds sylus#l&ds#love and deepspace#love and deepspace fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#i wrote this#love and deepspace fanfiction#sylus fanfic#lnds sylus#sylus love and deepspace#sylus#love and deepspace sylus#sylus qin
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS ! — i genuinely can’t believe i’ve come this far with posting my brainrot for hazbin. it has and will continue to be such an honor to keep posting for you guys, and to celebrate you guys i’ve prepared a little something for you guys, hehe!
requests.
i am willing to do any requests you guys might have which includes art, gifs, character ships (radioapple, huskerdust, etc) and of course character x reader ships despite generally being an x reader blog. though of course as any sane person would, i am not entertaining angel x val.
some fics along the way …
i have been cooking up something specifically for lucifer though nothing is confirmed yet except for the fact that i want to make a longer fic for him (AT LEAST 10k words long), but i’m kinda having trouble for the plot so this kinda connects to the first thing which if you have any ideas for me to write i am implore you to hit up my askbox, please! i’m gonna need all the help i can get! i’ve also gotten a radioapple worm in my head and the premise is too good not to act on though i will say it will be shorter than the lucifer fic. because of this both of these will be on my ao3 so stay tuned!
selfships.
i thought it would be cool for you guys to tell me a bit about yourself and then from there i pick a character from hazbin/helluva (depending on which show you prefer) that i think you would like/be with romantically (or even queerplatonically for the aro/aces out there)!! i’ve seen other people do this as well and they do 3-pic moodboards sometimes and i’d love to do that for you guys! or if you guys wanna go in depth i could also make short fics dedicated to you personally upon request!
get to know me + qna!
besides all the stuff that’s stated in my pinned, i’ve been writing since i was 10 (i am 18) and i’ve wanted to be a published author for the longest time, though as i grew older i realized there’s a lot of other ways i can get my stories out to the world, like screenwriting, animating (or being both the creator and writer of my own show AHEM totally not talking about hazbin) so i’m not really sure of things yet, but i will say i’ve learned a lot about writing since i first started and even though i know this is all for fun, i take the way i write things seriously, so any constructive feedback you might have will be valuable to me! anyway, i have A LOT of opinions on everything hazbin/helluva so you can ask about those or more about me! i’m a very open person so i like to give in depth responses. but yeah feel free to ask about my opinions on helluva/hazbin as well as my personal life too!
another thing i wanted to disclose about myself since i feel comfortable after having met such wholesome people after starting this blog, is that i have been through abuse very similar to angel dust’s meaning his character meant a lot to me and he was my favorite character when the pilot first came out so yeah! definitely ask me about angel too if you have anything to ask!
#thank you so much for 100 followers#it genuinely means so much to me#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin alastor#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne#lucifer hazbin hotel#radioapple#alastor the radio demon
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I'm too old to get adopted, right?
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: This is inspired by this post by @aprill-99 Feedback is always appreciated!
Xaden had no idea where he was, but he certainly wasn't in Navarre. It stands on the edge of a beautiful town spread out over rolling, steep hills. A dark blue river meanders through the landscape into the sea.
Xaden feels through his bond with Sgaeyl, but it's as if she isn't there. Xaden sighs, he has no weapons and no Sgaeyl. He tries his powers, which luckily work.
Wary, Xaden walks into town, hoping he can get a better idea of where he is. Around him he sees buildings made of white marble, warm sandstone and red stone.
A large mansion catches Xaden's attention. It is large, made of white marble with accents of dark wood. It was safe to say that Xaden has never seen such architecture in Navarre, or in Poromiel.
Suddenly there is a tall man standing in front of him with dark hair, golden-brown skin and- are those wings? Out of the corner of his eye, Xaden sees another man, this one pale with striking violet eyes, and before Xaden can react, he is unconscious.
-
Xaden wakes up with a start and sits up abruptly. He lies on a red lounger in a dark room, lit by the fireplace on his right.
Alert, Xaden scans the room and his eyes fall on a man behind a large desk. Xaden tries to move as softly as possible so that he can surprise the man and escape. But the man turns out to have really fucking good hearing, because he looks up from his papers, straight into Xaden's eyes.
“So let me see if I have it right,” the man says. "You have immense shadow power, incredible combat skills, height, tattoos, secrets, dead parents, a thirst for revenge, the weight of the world on your shoulders, a rebellion to lead, and..." he looks at his papers and tilts his head, “a dragon?”
'He probably has the same signet as Aetos,’ Xaden thinks to himself as he takes a defensive stance.
The man waves his hand dismissively, "I'm not going to hurt you." He adds with a grin, “see it for yourself.”
Xaden directs his second signet to the man and reads his true intentions in his head. The man truly has no intention of harming him. Slightly put at ease, Xaden decides to listen to the man.
"Well could I know your name first before I tell you my life story?" demands Xaden. The man smiles showing his white teeth. "Rhysand, high lord of the Night Court." Xaden has never heard of such a place, but mentally shrugs.
"Yes? I mean, there's also my girlfriend and 107 people under my protection, but-" Before Xaden can finish his sentence, Rhysand, ‘the high lord of the Night Court’, frantically flips through the pile of papers on his desk.
"This is the hyper-intelligent girlfriend with unprecedented lightning powers? The one you speak to telepathically and permanently nickname?" he looks expectantly.
Xaden decides to humor the man, "I only have one girlfriend. A bit offended that you would think otherwise."
Rhysand nods enthusiastically before scribbling something on a piece of paper. "Adopted. The rebellion thing is taken care of. Me and your aunts and uncles have this. Your new mother will need some time to add you and your mate to the family portrait in the gallery."
Xaden abruptly interrupts, "I'm sorry, my new mother?" Rhysand nods enthusiastically. "That's right, your bedroom is upstairs, the knives are in the training ring, the family dinner is every Thursday, you don't get any pocket money, but you have unlimited access to my finances and the curfew is...." Rhysand puts a finger thoughtfully on his chin, “…never.”
Rhysand stands up, "any questions?" Xaden mentally nods, ‘yeah, what the fuck?!’ Rhysand chuckles as if he heard it.
"Okay, crash course. So my name is Rhysand, I am 538 years old and the high lord of the Night Court and your new father." Xaden sputters in shock "538 years?!" "My wife and mate is Feyre, she is 21 years old and she is the high lady, we have a son Nyx, your brother." Rhysand opens his mouth, but Xaden cuts him off before he can say anything. “I'm….older than your wife?” Rhysand nods, "she'll be happy to have another son, Fae pregnancies are very difficult you know. But she'll be super excited to hear that we adopted you."
Xaden interrupts him again, "I'm still older than her." “Did I fucking stutter?” Rhysand asks with a raised eyebrow. Xaden gapes at him, "no sir." Rhysand nods happily, before paling, "don't tell your mother I swore or she'll refuse to give me soup." He ignores the disbelieving look Xaden gives him and continues introducing Xaden's ‘new family’.
Suddenly another winged man walks around the corner. “Ah, Rhys, we found them,” he says in a deep voice. Rhysand nods and gestures for Xaden to follow along. "Son, this is your Uncle Cassian, he is the general of my army, the two of you will work closely together to ensure that this rebellion of yours succeeds." 'Uncle' Cassian gives Xaden a big grin, "finally another nephew!"
“We found your friends, including my daughter-in-law,” Rhysand explains after seeing Xadens questioning look, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he says “daughter-in-law.”
When the three walk into the foyer, Xaden sees his self-made family. Garrick, Bodhi, Liam, Imogen, and Quinn. Behind his family is Violet, along with her squad, Rhiannon, Ridoc and Sawyer and her brother, Brennan.
Garrick, Liam and Bodhi immediately walk up to Xaden and after a quick hug they start asking hundreds of questions. Xaden calls the other riders over and explains what happened.
"You're adopted?" Bodhi asks incredulously. “Seriously man, he just says we can finally win the rebellion and that's what you get out of it?”
Bodhi shrugs, "It's not every day that you hear that your cousin has been adopted by a 538 year old man and a 21 year old woman who is 2 years younger than the literal man she’s adopting."
"Okay kids," Rhysand claps his hands together and looks at everyone enthusiastically, "let's make sure you win the rebellion."
-
After Rhysand introduces the rest of Xaden's new family, including his new mother, who doesn't even seem shocked when Rhysand tells them that Xaden is their new son, and that he is two years older than her.
He then gives everyone an explanation of his army, what species they are and what their signets, or powers, are, the riders took the Fae to the hidden cave where Bodhi said they left their dragons.
The moment the group walks into the cave, Cassian gives a loud scream. Xaden looks over and sees that Cassian is hanging on to a very irritated Azriel like a koala with a scared look.
“What the fuck is that,” he points. Xaden looks over and sees that he is pointing at Sgaeyl. "That's Sgaeyl."
Cassian looks at him in disbelief, "I thought Sgaeyl was your cat!" he exclaims. Sgaeyl lets out an indignant huff and Cassian lets out another yelp.
Xaden ignores his so-called fearless uncle and focuses on Sgaeyl, prodding along their bond, but he comes up with nothing.
“My bond with her is muted,” he states. The other riders nod, theirs too.
"Violet and I can see if we can make a medicine," Brennan suggests. Violet nods in agreement. After the riders make their dragons promise to stay hidden in the cave and behave, they especially had trouble with Aotrom, who is apparently a dragon version of his rider and Andarna, the group walks back to the mansion in town. Cassian continues to look behind him uneasily, checking to see if the dragons are coming to attack him.
Violet walks up next to Xaden and hooks her arm through his, "so, adopted huh, I never expected my future mother-in-law and I to be the same age." Xaden grins, "mother-in-law?" Violet rolls her eyes and punches him in the arm.
“Shut up, you're the one in a ridiculously hilarious situation.”
-
The mansion turns out to have a lab slash medical bay. Violet and Brennan immediately start working on a medicine, Brennan mumbling all kinds of things under his breath, especially confusing curses.
Violet continues to throw grinning looks his way and she and the other riders burst into unashamed laughter as Rhysand deposits a winged baby in his arms and states that the baby is his new brother and that they should get acquainted.
-
Once Brennan and Violet perfect the medicine, they hand it out in cups.
“Well, bottoms up,” Garrick says, before putting the cup to his mouth.
Xaden follows suit and immediately feels the bond with Sgaeyl opening. "That was interesting," Sgaeyl says disinterestedly, a complete contrast to what she just said. Xaden rolls his eyes.
"The screaming human dragon from before is back," she says. Xaden raises his eyebrow. "He brought food, he's afraid we'll eat him."
Xaden wonders why that was worth sharing as Sgaeyl adds, "he completely freaked out when suddenly some kind of black mist with eyes and sharp teeth and claws appeared."
“He screamed like a little baby!” adds Andarna enthusiastically, "the mist's name is Byraxis, he's super funny!"
“He was indeed amusing,” Sgaeyl states, “in just a few minutes he humored me more than you have done in three years.”
Violet has clearly been listening as Xaden hears her laughter in his head. She stops abruptly when she hears Tairn's angry, jealous growl.
Andarna either doesn't realize what her adoptive parents are doing, or she just ignores it as she gleefully tells Xaden and Violet that Byraxis told her the story of when Cassian came to the bottom level of the library and how he literally wet his pants when he saw Byraxis.
Xaden sighs, he would do anything for a nap before fighting the rebellion with the help of a few extremely powerful centuries old Fae, three not so old Fae and an army of winged warriors.
“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” he asks Violet. She snorts in response, “as if I’d let you do this on your own. Besides, this is way too hilarious, I haven’t laughed this much in years.” Suddenly Liam appears next to Xaden, watching them interact. “Will you fight with me?” Xaden asks his brother.
“It would be my honor,” he answers without hesitation.
#fourth wing#xaden riorson#violet sorrengail#garrick tavis#bodhi durran#imogen cardulo#liam mairi#fourth wing quinn#brennan sorrengail#rhiannon matthias#ridoc gamlyn#fourth wing sawyer#sgaeyl#tairn#andarna#acotar#rhysand#feyre archeron#cassian#azriel shadowsinger#fourth wing x acotar#crossover#batboys#crackfic#fourth wing incorrect quotes#acotar incorrect quotes
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Richard M. Sherman, 1928-2024
Richard Sherman, who died today at age 95, wrote along with his brother Robert some of the most memorable melodies of the 20th Century, including songs from “Mary Poppins,” “The Jungle Book,” and one of the biggest earworms of all time, “It’s a Small World.” (I happen to love it.) Sherman was one of the last living links to Walt Disney himself, and in 2023, got to revisit Walt’s old office as part of a Disney 100 special film, “Once Upon a Studio.”
youtube
In 2011, I was overjoyed to have an opportunity to interview Sherman by phone as part of the advance promotion for a touring production of “Mary Poppins” on stage. Today I listened back to my interview and smiled all over again. After our talk, Sherman asked if I’d send him a copy of the produced interview on CD, which I did. Then HE wrote me a thank you note, complimenting me! What a wonderful person he was.
Below is the transcript of my interview.
*****
Nathan Cone: This is an honor and a privilege to talk to you. Because I've been a big Disneyphile and Disney fan since I was a young boy.
Richard Sherman: That's nice. Thank you for saying that. That's very sweet of you.
Yeah, my wife asked me this morning, she said “You have your interview today, don't you?” And I said, “yeah, I do.” And she said, “are you ready?” I said, “I've been ready for 35 years.”
Oh my God! [laughs] Well, I'm thrilled to be giving you an interview. So ask away and I'll be happy to tell you anything you'd like to know.
Thank you so much. I wanted to know, first, when you and your brother Robert began writing songs for Mary Poppins, there was no script, only the stories by Pamela Travers. And in some ways, I think your songs helped shape the story, I guess. How do you see Mary Poppins?
Well, it's an interesting thing you used the word story, because if you read the books that Mrs. Travers wrote, you'd find a brilliant character and a lot of wonderful adventures and absolutely no story whatsoever. There is no storyline in her books. There's only adventures with a magical nanny. And what we did was we superimposed a story, a need for Mary Poppins to come. In other words, there was the original book, the original story that we came up with for when our first meeting with Walt was... We said there was no story. We just said there was a definite need because chaos was reigning in the house and, Mary Poppins came in and straightened out and gave life lessons and and that. And then, of course, in the development of the story, which in large part was due to a gentleman by the name of Walt Disney and his two of his finest talents, and that was Bill Walsh and Don DiGradi, these people, and my brother Bob and I shaped a story, and it evolved that the Banks family was, in a kind of a discordant position. And, that's the whole thing. I mean, I'm waffling away, but basically, we cobbled together a story. Walt bought the concept, and he liked the ideas of the songs we had. Mrs. Travers wrote the books in the period of 1934 through 1939-40. And it was depressing. England. It was a very drab period. And, it was an arbitrary decision on my brother's and my part to set the story back at the turn of the last century so that we'd have the English music-hall style music, and it would be very special. And you could believe that a nanny would come flying out of the air. And so basically, these are the things that we contributed to Mrs. Travers' great stories, because she had wonderful stories. There's no question about it. But they didn't have any way to hold an audience in their seats for 2.5 hours? No way.
And you alluded to this, that she was reluctant to allow her books to be made into a film. And I understand she had some reservations about this. What kind of feedback did you and your brother get from her when you were presenting songs?
She didn't understand why we were doing songs at all. She said, what's the point of this? You know, we had this Admiral Boom, and we had a little song for him. She said, "Why don't you use ‘Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay?’ You have the word 'boom' in it.” And I said, “because it's an original musical we're trying to write.” And then she says, “Well, I love ‘Greensleeves.’ Why don't you use Greensleeves?’” I said, “Because it's hundreds of years old and everybody knows it. We want to do something fresh and original.” And she just didn't get the idea. She was anything but showbiz, if you follow me. She had no concept of what we were going for, and that was a piece of entertainment for the world and for posterity, inspired by her books. But she, Mrs. Travers, was difficult. And to say it… I'm being very kind about that!
I love hearing you tell stories about how, with Feed the Birds it was Disney's favorite song, and how he felt it was the key to the to the story itself.
Yeah. Well, when we were working on developing an idea for how to do Mary Poppins, we came across this one story in Mrs. Travers first book, and it was about this lady who sat on the steps of Saint Paul's Cathedral and sold bread crumbs. She didn't explain what that story was all about. She just said, this lady sits on the bread on the steps of Saint Paul's and says, “feed the birds, tuppence a bag.” And that was all there was in it. And when we read the story we said, “My God, that could be... That could be the key to this whole thing.” It doesn't cost very much to buy some breadcrumbs to feed birds, but that's not what it's about. It's not about the cost of breadcrumbs and birds. It doesn't take much to give a kindness, to give love. And we got very excited. And by getting excited about this one thing, we said, this could be the key to this whole damn story, Mary Poppins comes in and teaches a family a lesson in giving, in giving love and giving a little extra dimension. And that's what she does. And she all of her little life lessons are involved in feeding the birds. In other words, giving that smile, giving that hug, giving that love, giving that extra little something that doesn't cost you anything. And so basically, we wrote this song. We were very inspired by it. And I remember we didn't know much about England or Saint Paul's Cathedral. We got pictures and there were pictures of the saints and apostles standing around on the top of the trellis on the top of the building there. And we said, okay, all the all around the cathedral, the saints and apostles look down as she sells their wares. I mean, we just made it up as we went along. And my God, it was such a good song. We got very excited about it. Now, we didn't make a big to-do when we played it for Walt the first time, but he listened to it along with some other stuff we had written, and he said, “That's the key to this whole story, isn't it?” We said, “yes, yes it is.” And that's when he said, “How’d you guys like to come and work here?”
Of course, he knew that we were thinking story and he was a storyteller. He was the master storyteller of the last century, God knows. And he knew that Bob and I were story writers. We didn't just write jolly tunes and stuff. We tried to say a lot more with our music than just, yeah, little carry tunes.
We have a stage musical now that is different from the movie... How does it differ from the movie?
Well, it differs in only this regard. The basic thrust of the story is exactly the same as the movie. The difference is the fact that there are new stories added. There are new dimensions to the characters. There's more knowledge of what the mother was all about. And we made her a suffragette. And, in the new incarnation on stage, she's a frustrated actress. She had been an actress, and she married Mr. Banks. And also there's new material in this play about Mr. Banks, his background, the reason why he became such a sort of a stiff, tight, restricted, thwarted individual was because he had his horrible nanny, Miss Andrew, who was a terrible nanny and, he was, like, thwarted in life. He didn't show emotion. He didn't show anything. And so, Mary Poppins comes and corrects all that. She comes in and does wonderful things for the whole family. And that's using a lot of the adventures and stuff that Bob and I had done in the original. The story basically is Mary Poppins comes in and straightens out a dysfunctional family. And you could say that about both the film and the play. The play goes a lot deeper. Julian Fellowes, who was a brilliant writer, wrote the book and he's wonderful. And Stiles and Drewe, the two wonderful English songwriters, added quite a number of good songs, new songs, along with the material that Bob and I had written. Because, basically the backbone of the story is still the same, and we have Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Spoonful of Sugar Chim Chim Cher-ee, all of the songs are still in there and beautifully done, by the way.
And were you and Robert consulted for, the project or asked to, contribute in any way to, new aspects?
Spiritually! [laughs] No, actually, the project was mounted in England with as a joint project with Cameron Mackintosh and Tom Schumacher, who is the head of Disney Theatrical. And between Tom Schumacher and Cameron Mackintosh, this story was developed and evolved. The stage story. And the stage story is wonderful. And they did incorporate much of our music. I was in a sense, let's say a spiritual guru. I, I was consulted a bit on it so but basically not officially. So I didn't want to say I was officially involved in it.
Well, you and your brother Robert wrote many, many songs for the film that never made it into the picture, some of which you can hear on the DVD releases of Mary Poppins. So, you know, y'all must have a tremendous backlog of great music from Mary Poppins and dozens of other projects. What happens to those songs?
Well, you see, Bob and I were staff writers at the studio. So in all truth, when you write for a studio and you're a staff writer, it belongs to the studio. Many of the songs that we wrote for Poppins wound up in other Disney projects, and I'm happy to say a lot of them had very big, responses in different ways. A couple of examples of that are, let's see, The Beautiful Briny Sea, for example, was in a compass sequence in Mary Poppins, which was abandoned. And so The Beautiful Briny Sea was a big featured number in Bedknobs and Broomsticks seven years later, where Angela Lansbury, as this magical witch, takes these people on an adventure under the water. And it was very nice. Originally it was Mary Poppins that was going to do it, but that sequence was left out. And so we just took the song lock, stock and barrel and used it in a different picture. Then it was like a very beautiful, haunting theme that we had written for another adventure with Mary Poppins. It was called The Land of Sand. And they went to the Sahara Desert, and they were seeing, visions rising out of the sand, you know, images. And so we changed the words and it became Trust In Me, the song that the vicious snake sang, Kaa, in The Jungle Book. So the melody was the same, but the words are different. But that haunting, theme was used and it was very successful. So we've had a number of things where we've taken songs. Songwriters call it the trunk. It's something you've written but never used. It never had a home, so you can't necessarily use it exactly as such. But you can take the spirit of a piece or a melody and use it again. And that's what we do.
Well, Sterling Holloway did such a great job with that Trust in Me song. He's got such a unique voice. I'm wondering on films and working on projects. Do you like to write for a voice like Phil Harris or Sterling Holloway or David Tomlinson or Angela Lansbury better, or do you just hope that they find life in a picture somewhere? How did it work?
No, we write for character. It's always story and character. We never think about who is going to sing it. I think, once I think one time, twice, twice... Because we were on staff, we knew that Walt wanted to use Burl Ives in this picture was Summer Magic. So we thought of burrow when we wrote On the Front Porch and a song called The Ugly Bug Ball. We did a novelty and we did a very pretty song, old fashioned song that we knew this was a wonderful folk singer and he knew exactly how to handle this kind of material. So we wrote that for him. In the case of, we did three pictures starring Maurice Chevalier. The first one was, In Search of the Castaways. And then I think we did. Let's see, we did. The Aristocats was another one, and Monkeys Go Home, three pictures for Disney and all three, we knew it was going to be Chevalier, and we directly wrote this material for Chevalier. But other than that, we only wrote for characters. We never wrote for Julie, we never wrote for Dick Van Dyke, we never wrote for Angela or any of these people. We just wrote for the characters. And these wonderful, wonderful, talented ladies and gentlemen came in and interpreted the music. So basically, no. And Bob and I, I can say honestly, have always written 99% of our material for the character in the story and not for a star.
Well, you know, besides writing for the movies, you've also written songs for several of Disney's theme park rides, including a It's a Small World and the Carousel of Progress.
Ah, you did your homework!
Yeah, I love these rides. I love them… and Magic Journeys.
Oh yeah, thank you! That's one of our favorites.
I love this music. And Disney famously conceives of their rides as stories in and of themselves. And so....
Yes, they are. You have to you have to tell a story, and you have to get the mood and the feel and the chemistry of the event, of course. For example, the very first song ever written for, a theme park, what was In the Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, which is the Tiki Room, right? I mean, there's not a ride, it's an experience, you know, you see the audio animatronics, flowers and dolls and birds and tiki torches all singing and chanting, and it's amazing. It's an amazing thing. But when that was first created way back in the early 60s, Walt had a mockup of it done in one of the soundstages out in the studio, and he'd bring his guests to see it. He was very proud of this thing, and it didn't have a song, but it had a lot of music in it because all this thing would come alive, and then they would sing, Let's All sing like the Birdies Sing and the Hawaiian War Chant and all these delightful classic songs. And people would say to him, “Walt, what the devil is this? What's this all about? What is it? What is it?” And so one day, as again as staff writers, we were called down to this meeting, where we saw this experience for the first time, and the same thing came out of mouth. “Walt, what the hell is this?” And he looked right at us and said, “You're going to write a song is going to explain it!” Oh, oh, that's why we're here, I see. [laughs] Okay. And so we wrote the song called In the Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, which was a calypso which tells the story of who they are and what they are and why they're singing. All the birds sing words. And the flowers croon in the tiki tiki tiki room.
It was just a cute little statement, but all of a sudden you could understand what it was and it was a magical place. And so Walt got the idea, hey, the Sherman brothers are pretty good for this. And then we started writing Carousel of Progress, and we did Small World, all in that short period of about a year. We had done a number of things, and over the years we've done at least 15 songs for the parks and the rides and the things.
So as staff writers on the lot in the ‘60s, then, what was a typical day like? How many different projects were you working on?
Oh, you know, you could actually be assigned to do several things. And always on the back burner was a major project like Poppins. For two years we were working on that while we were doing all these other pictures and all these other projects. We'd have maybe 5 or 6 things going at the same time, but we didn't, you know, just apportion our hours. We just wrote what was the deadline we're going to have a meeting on Sword in the Stone, we're going to have a meeting on Jungle Book. So you better get this sequence written. So we would do it sequence at a time, and we come up with, I Wanna Be Like You for the ape, for example. We'd have that for a project in mind, or we'd have, the Colonel Hathi's March where they wanted to have a character number for the elephants, and so we'd have a meeting on it, and then five months later we do another one. It was just, constantly being involved, and we were involved in many things at the same time. But it didn't always happen simultaneously.
You know, until I saw a documentary, about your life and your brother Robert's, The Boys, that y'all's sons had produced… I had no idea that as brothers, that you didn't always get along. And I want to know if those personal differences ever affected your working relationship.
No. The fact of the matter is that that Bob and I didn't really have any angry animosity, it's just that we went our separate ways for lots of personal reasons, and we just said, let's keep the work separate. And so it was sacrosanct. We'd walk into the studio, we'd walk into our offices (years later when we were working independently), and work came first. We didn't get into the personalities because there's always problems with personalities. So we just kept that out of the room and we would just be concerned with this is a stuffed teddy bear who was stuck in a hole or something. We didn't we didn't worry about ourselves. And it was very clever to do that because, when we first began, I mean, you saw the thing, our dad put us together. Our dad said, you know, together you'll be strong. If you separate and start figuring out who's going to do what and who did what and why did you do this? You're going to have battles and you're going to never succeed. You have to think about the fact that your success will hold you together. And that's exactly what happened. We were very successful. And so that held us together. And that was like an understanding. We said, let's not get anything in the way of our work, our character, what we do as writers. And so our personality and our personal bits are private. Frankly, my son and my nephew who did that... I said, I don't want to get into our personal stuff. It's nobody's business. And, we kept it private. We always did. So, the fact that they said was that. But that was the amazing part about it because we did overcome that. So I said, well, you guys are making your picture, so go ahead and make your picture. But basically, I don't think it was necessary to tell all that, but it never would have been made if they didn't have a hook. And you're a writer, you know what it is, you have to have that little hook to grab people, to make them-- that headline, that, that opening sentence, to grab hold of their interest. And they had this thing about the two brothers who really went separate ways. But we always worked together well.

The last Disney project you and Robert officially worked on, I guess, was The Tigger Movie. Is that correct?
Yeah, I think so.
Would you like to do any more with him?
Well, you know, if it came up. Bob lives in London now and he's off in his own world. He paints and he does his own thing, and I'm happy, I'm doing my own thing, independently. So I'm happy. I just did a picture a couple of years ago called Iron Man 2. I wrote a special song for it, and it was Make Way for Tomorrow Today. And I do a lot of instrumentals. I created a lot of instrumental music that's been published. So I'm very pleased with what I'm doing. And Bob's happy with how he's doing. And we're we have our career, which is, we're both proud of. So, you know...
I did like that, piano work that you play early on in the documentary in The Boys as well. The solo piano...
Oh, yeah. Well, there's about six of my pieces in there where I play piano. Actually, my son Greg is the one that said, “Hey Dad, can you record some of these things? I think they're great. I could use them and background fillers and stuff like that behind some of the sequences,” and so, sure! And that one that I play in person in the very beginning is, it was just an Improvisation we had been talking about the years gone by and, and what we had been doing, and I just got nostalgic and I came up with his piece and he said, great. So that was one of the pieces that this record producer fell in love with, and he had collected 15 of my pieces that I had written, and I recorded them. And, it's out on an album called Forgotten Dreams. It's the things that I've written over the years that I never did anything with.
What do you think of the, for example, Mary Poppins, some of the interpretations that have been done of the songs over the years. What are some of your favorites? I know that, I'm a big jazz nut, and so I really wigged out and loved hearing John Coltrane do Chim Chim Cher-ee, for example.
Oh, did you ever did you ever hear the entire album that Duke Ellington did with... oh my God, it's fantastic. It's on Reprise Records, and I think it's out on CD. It's an incredible jazz interpretation. Every number in Poppins, they are just wonderful. I think Count Basie did an entire album on The Happiest Millionaire. I'm trying to think we got a lot of people that did jazz versions of my music. The Coltrane is fantastic because everything he plays is great! First of all, it's very flattering to have these greats, interpret your music. I mean, that's number one. And number two is it's also fascinating to hear how they were inspired to play with it. Because it's a theme and variations, really. They take your music and then they interpret it in their own language. And it's amazing. I've been very lucky to get a rather wonderful array of jazz artists who've done our stuff.
Do you still play any of the songs from Mary Poppins for yourself or to remember Walt Disney?
Oh, sure! I do a lot of fundraisers. I play them all the time for people. They love to hear it! In my croaky voice I sing them and they love it, you know? So I'm happy to do it. I do a fundraiser now and again for, you know, for AIDS and things like that. And it's a nice thing to be able to play them. And people like to hear the original, the version done by the writers, you know. So that's kind of fun. And I've always been the interpreter of our songs. I was always the musical one who played. So, you know, that was it.
Oh, man. Well, this that's a great place to, I guess end the official part of the interview. So thank you so much, Richard Sherman. I really appreciate it.
Thank you! You sound like a very nice young man. I hope I'll meet you one day.
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strawberries cherries: iv
pairing: kylo ren x fem!reader
synopsis: tired of your attitude, kylo finally puts you in your place
chapter warnings: SMUT 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mean!kylo, degrading, hair pulling, fingering, NO AFTERCARE, angst
series masterlist
iv
Today, unlike literally every other day, you did not want to go into work. You used to be so excited and you loved what you did, but after what was happening with Kylo you were, well, embarrassed. Sure he was teasing you and he probably wanted you as much as you wanted him.
But what if he was being honest with his feedback? What if he’s a bad communicator and you were actually making him uncomfortable?
You weren’t sure what to do with yourself. It was never your intention to make anyone uncomfortable. You had debated whether or not to call out, but you knew Kylo would use that as an excuse to shame you even more. Reluctantly, you got ready, moving slower than you usually do. You were technically 10 minutes behind schedule, but that was your typical schedule and today is not a typical day.
You lazily got ready, barely bringing yourself to brush your teeth and skipping over your skincare in general. You opted out of makeup, settling on mascara and tinted lipbalm. Your outfit is all dark browns and blacks, baggy, and very modest, hoping to bring as little attention to yourself as possible.
You sauntered out of your apartment the same time your usual train left but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You would just take the next one and be 10 minutes late. Who gives a fuck?
When you finally got to the office you were the last person in their seat when you’re usually the first. Poe looked at you, eyes filled with concern when you stepped off the elevator. He mouthed a small “you ok?” as you walked to your seat. Not wanting to delve into all of your problems, you just nodded with a tight smile.
Zoning out the rest of the world, you logged into your computer and hoped you could just stay there for the rest of the day and get some real work done this week. Of course the devil always had other plans for you.
The harshness of your last name coming from a deep voice coming from behind you brought you back to the reality of your place in your office. Without saying anything or looking at anyone, you sighed heavily, roughly stood up, and brushed past Ren into his open office door. You knew this was going to happen but you just could not bring yourself to care today.
Keeping your eyes on the objects around his office, not on him, you were just going to sit through getting scolded with a brave face and wait it out until you could go back to work.
“Mind explaining to me why you were ten minutes late to work?” His tone was harsh and although you weren’t looking at him you could feel the fire in his eyes burning into the skin of your cheek. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, little girl.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back all retaliations and shook your head at the wall next to you, refusing to give in to him.
“Fine. Don’t look at me,” he hissed. “But I expect a fucking answer instead of this attitude.”
“Nothing,” you cried, not meaning your voice to sound as shaky as it did. His eyebrows raised, not expecting you to be emotional. “I’ll stay late and make up my work, please. May I be excused now?” Your voice dwindled down until there was barely a whisper leaving your lips by the end.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” he released as a sigh heavy enough to move mountains.
You gave him nothing in return and slid out his door to your desk, ignoring all of the leering eyes questioning you.
Kylo Ren, being surprisingly empathetic for him, could see that there was actually something wrong and decided to not toy with you for the rest of the work day. It gnawed at the back of his brain for the rest of the day, however, and his skin was itching to know what put you in such a bad mood.
He was able to go on the full day leaving you alone but his patience was slowly eroding and he couldn’t hold on much longer. He was starting to miss teasing you. The way you would get all fluster and twitch under his stare was what was motivating him to complete his first week of work. He loved the way confidence would tingle down your spine as you tried to gain dominance over him. It moved him to tease you even more than you deserved and now he was kind of sad he had to go a day without it.
He decided to stay late with you, wait for everyone to be out of the office before he got to confronting you. He waited, leaning against the doorframe of his office, watching all of his employees file into the elevator and out of the office, leaving you and him alone. He glanced around, making sure you guys were alone before disrupting your peace.
“Ok, let up, what’s wrong?” he questioned, his frustration evident in his voice.
Your shoulders tighten as if there was suddenly an intruder in your house. “Nothing.” Quick and simple.
“Yeah right,” he scoffed, not buying your obvious lie. “A complete change in character totally insuates nothing is wrong.”
“Why can’t you just believe me and leave me alone?” You swivled your desk chair to turn and face him, your eyebrows furrowed and a purse on your lips.
“Because, I refuse to work in an environment where my employees think insubordanince is a proper response to being sexually attracted to me.”
“Oh please,” it was your turn to scoff. “I am not sexually attracted to you. Not any kind of attracted to you for that matter.”
“That statement would hold more power if you could look at me, pet,” he rolled his eyes, seeing through your obvious fib.
You looked at him directly in the eyes and hardened your glare. Even though you found him attractive, obviously so, you refuse to go down without a fight. “I do not, not now, not yesterday, not ever, find you attractive in any way shape or form, sir.”
He stepped closer to your chair until the toe of his shoes were touching yours. He placed his hand on the back of your chair and tipped it back, forcing you to lean back and look at his face directly above yours. His eyes scanned the entirety of your face, making more than one stop at your lips. “Your blushing, sweetheart.”
“Oh, fu-”
He cut you off before you could finish cursing him out by pressing his lips against yours in a fit of rage. He let go of the back of your chair and brought his hands down to pinch the sides of your waist. You started standing, pushing the shair your were sitting in as far back as it could go. Not accounting for the sudden lack of stability, he pushed you back a few feet into Poe’s desk with the force of his kiss. You brought a hand behind you to brace the sudden contact to the desk.
Finally pulling away from you for air, he looked at you with mischievous eyes. “If kissing was all it took to get you to shut the fuck up, I would’ve done it already.”
You scowled at his intsistant need to be an asshole and opened your mouth just to tell him that but he beat you to it, kissing you again. The hands on your waist drop to your hips, wrapping around to grab the whole of your ass and push your pelvice against his, his already hard cock prominent against your lower stomach.
“Feel what you do to me, pet? Finally get to put you in your place after acting like a bitch all fucking week,” he growled against your lips. He used the wave of momentum he gained from a grope of your ass to lift you up and place you on Poe’s desk. You mumbles something against his lips but he wasn’t able to hear you. “Don’t mumble, pet, speak like you mean it.”
You pulled all the way away from him and stared into his eyes with the same fire he held. “I wasn’t being a bitch, you’re just a fucking narrsisist.”
“That right?” he smirked at you. He rolled your maxi skirt up in his hands and pushed it up until it was at your upper thigh. “So if I touch your little cunt right now, you wouldn’t be wet right?” You pouted and shook your head, knowing full well you there was a puddle in your panties.
He raised an eyebrow and slid one of the hands on your thigh up to the junction where your hip and thigh meet. You shook your head at him in stuttered movements, silently begging him not to check you on it but that only encouraged him to go further.
His thumb rested perfectly against your throbbing whole, where your panties had dampened the most. He tisked, thumb rubbing up and down against you slowly. “What kind of whore do you have to be to get this fucking wet from your boss scolding you?”
“Not a whore,” your voice quaking more than ever from the stimulation against your cunt.
“That so?” he teased. “Go on then. Whores fuck the people in charge of them so you probably shouldn’t.” He began removing his hand from under your skirt, but you were quick to grab his forearm with both hands and bring it back towards you. He laughed at your sudden boldness, but succumbed to your needs nonetheless.
He picked his hand up to your stomach, dipping his thumb below the waistband of your panties and back to your fluttering hole. Your thighs shook at the sudden contact with his cold hand mixed with your warmth.
“Fff your hands are cold,” you whimper, grip on his arm tightening.
“Yeah?” his tone was higher like he was as turned on as you were. “Want me to stop?”
You shook your head fiercely, giving the obvious impression that you did not want him to stop anytime soon. Your desperation amused him immensely and he continued with his movements. “That’s right, ‘cause your my fucking slut, aren’t you?”
The little ‘yessir’ you moaned irritated his strong exterior that was holding his composure together. He yanked down your panties, effectively yanking his arm out of your grip. Your hands moved to his shoulders instead, your hold on them just as tight.
This time when he brought his hand to your heated center, his thumb went straight to your clit, rubbing tight circles there. Your hands bunched his shirt together and your knees lifted, naturally giving him better access as small moans left your mouth.
“Aww, that feel good?” he chuckled at you, and you nodded at him in return with a now typical yessir that made him groan at the sound. “Fuck when’s the last time you’ve been touched like this? You’re so sensitive.”
You shook your head, too embarrassed to admit the multiple years you’ve spent having to pleasure yourself so you just muttered ‘long time’ along with your moans and whimpers.
He seemed satisified with your answer. He rotated his wrist so that he could continue his stimulation against your clit and force his pointer and middle into your tight cunt. You whined at the sudden pressure, not expecting him to stretch you out so much with just his fingers.
“So tight for such a slut,” he smiled when you tightened around his fingers from his degrading. “Bet my fingers are bigger than yours huh?”
You nodded, little tufts of air panting from your lips. “Feel so full, fuck.”
“Imagine how full you’ll feel stuffed by my cock, pet. Make you dumb fucking you, gotta be careful.”
You moaned louder at his words and soon you were tumbling towards your peak. “Fuck, I’m so close,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulder.
“Better ask me before you go cumming. Your cum belongs to me,” he hissed, picking up his pace. You couldn’t think with all this stimulation, and you ended up ignoring him, chasing your pleasure.
“Don’t fucking ignore me,” he barked. The hand that was still on your thigh moved to pull your hair back, scaring you back. “You do as I tell you, slut.”
“Yessir,” you whined, your walls spasming, holding off your orgasm.
“Now ask.”
“Can I cum?” you whimpered, broken.
He shook his head, eyes disappointed in you. “We both know you can do better than that.”
“Please let me cum, sir, please. Fuck it feels so good I need to cum so bad. Please please fuck I’m begging you. Need to-”
“Cum for me,” he groaned and you did not need to be told twice, the dam already breaking. You moaned a series of profanities and thank you’s as your thighs shook. You could hardly register his hands leaving your body to pull down his own pants and underwear, baring his throbbing red cock to the world.
You barely caught a glimpse of it before it disappeared under your skirt and the tip rubbed up and down your sopping slit, covering himself with you. He didn’t hesitate for you, pushing himself inch by inch, eyes fluttering at the feeling of your warm cunt.
“Fuck, pet, your cunt was made to be fucked by me,” he groaned. “Should make you stay in my office all day to use however I please.”
You nodded along with him, wanton moans coming from your gaping mouth unable to come up with any words.
“Barely got into you and you’re already too dumb to talk. Come on, tell me how good you feel.”
“So g-good, oh fuck,” you moaned, your voice raising in pitch as his pace picked up while you were talking. He wanted to see how much you could break around him.
“Just good? Come on, pet, I think it’s more than good,” he groaned against the crown of your head, hanging himself over you. He was just trying to egg you on, loving the way you tried so hard to talk to him.
“Ssso fucking good, sir,” you whimpered, your thighs tightening when he brought his finger to continue its assault on your clit from before. His groans got more frequent and you understood that he was getting close by his thrusts turning sloppy.
“Think you can cum again for me, pet. Need to feel you cum around my cock,” he moaned, almost ready to spend himself.
You nodded under his chin and your arms flayled around him, not knowing where to hold on to. “Fuck, sir, i’m gon-nna cum again. Please, let me cum. Plea- oh fuck-ssse I’m so close.”
“Go ahead, let me feel it, pet. Let me feel how good you feel,” he growled, a burst of energy making him piston in and out of you faster than before. You tightened around him and in a fit of moaning you came for a second time, now on his cock.
He brought both hands to your hips and with a few more harsh thrusts he was cumming. His grip on you is bruising, definitely leaving marks for days to come. He held you down, skin flushed to skin as his cum painted white against your walls.
As if once possessed by the incident, he backed away from you, his softening cock leaving you making you hiss at the sudden emptiness. Quickly, he tugged his pants back up his thighs, tucking himself back into them and fastening them around his waist.
“You should probably leave,” he muttered, not bothering to look at you, instead turning towards his office and shutting the door behind him.
You nodded, willing the tears in your eyes away as you redressed. You gathered your stuff together and you felt disappointed in yourself. You don’t know why you gave into his antics so easily, you really shouldn’t have, he’s your boss and now has cause to fire you.
You slumped into the elevator and your shoulder began to shake uncontrollably. That was some of the harshest sex in your life and although you did enjoy yourself, you felt empty being forced away so harshly. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting. Obviously you didn’t think he’d kiss and hug you afterwards but some assurance would be nice. Instead you're forced to care of yourself.

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Why do I always see people saying that armored Galadriel is not faithful to Tolkien when in fact she is ?
In memories Galadriel is described as very tall, very strong in battle, extremely wise, of great beauty, etc.
Then who on the other side criticizes Galadriel for being a fucking Mary Sue in ROP... ?
The same girl who is stubborn, never thinks, who the characters yell at and who literally gave hope to SAURON ?! Has an inclination for power ! Like, if it's for her enormous, extraordinary abilities... she's a fucking elf ?!
Oh, and that Galadriel is good at fighting is no surprise if you look at Tolkien's writings...
If it was adapted to the letter of what Tolkien had written for Galadriel people would also cry mary sue ! From @motziedapul : "he described Galadriel as Amazonian, "man-maiden" and excellent in athleticism on top of generally being one of the most powerful Elves in Middle Earth and being the favorite of an angel [Maia] who she lived with for a while."
Also, the only one who seems to me to have understood that Sauron was a first-rate scammer when he was among the elves.
Galadriel was around 2 meters tall, much taller than the other Noldor women. (Which gave her the name Nerwen meaning young girl man by her mother. Her father had first named her Artanis which meant noble ladies. Galadriel was the name Celeborn gave her) She was vigorous in body as well as in spirit, capable of standing up to anyone in terms of knowledge as well as physical skills. She also always had the gift of clairvoyance, allowing her to read the hearts and minds of others. Her great beauty was recognized by all the Eldar and her hair was considered a wonder of this world. It would also be the gold and silver reflection of Galadriel's hair which would have inspired Feaonor for the creation of the Silmarils. For all these reasons, she was quickly considered the most illustrious of the Noldor. She had also quickly learned everything the Valar had been willing to teach her.
Don't make me believe that if we had an adaptation of the character of Galadriel including all of this, people wouldn't be also screaming at the mary sue ?! Dare to say it ! Because it’s just obvious they would have done it !
Which does not mean that Galadriel is a mary sue in the original story, since she has her defaults in the canon of Tolkien too, notably once again an inclination for power, which is expressed by the desire to have one's own kingdom and its temptation almost until the very end of Sauron's Ring, etc.
The antis Galadriel people are ridiculous. To say that she's a mary sue and that that makes her unbearable is stupid. They clearly don't know what a mary sue is for say she is one... Then there are those who complain that Galadriel has too many flaws, so please confirm that you just can't stand women who are perfect saints. I'm really fucking tired of the Galadriel critical.
They don't understand the character of Galadriel.
For them, the canon Galadriel is simply a sort of figure of purity like the Virgin Mary, but a powerful magician in addition.
And sorry, but Galadriel is not that. Oh at least she's not just that.
This. Honestly, I’ve seen all matter of hateful shit written and vlogged about TROP’s Gal and even worse about Miv. These assholes have called her too ugly, a bad actress, accused her of blaspheming their own (incorrect as you point out) ideas of Galadriel. And this misogyny goes back awhile. Let’s not forget that PJ’s FOTR had some leaks early on that Arwen would be a fighter and….the purist dudes lost their EVERLOVING MINDS. Bear in mind, this was just based on set pictures. So PJ scrapped that altogether and it was written out. And that was one of the earliest examples of writers and producers changing their course due to hateful fan feedback (*cough*Star Wars*). PJ had had a free pass ever since.
To your point, not only is Gal all of those things you listed but she’s also ALOT older than Legolas was in LOTR so yeah, she’s fucking good at fighting. And when Legolas parkoured down an oliphaunt’s trunk none of them said shit.
#haladriel#galadriel#trop galadriel#morfydd clark#my asks#i get pissed cuz miv is clearly very shy and very sweet#and i cant imagine the hate she and the rest of the cast must endure
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Everyone thinks Mike is a sinister force but honestly, considering that the two pieces of info we have on him are "spamton cares about him" and "tenna possibly fucked him over" makes me wonder if Mike is just. Like. A nice fella. Like a geniuelly nice person.
Like this wouldn't even exclude him from being a secret boss, I imagine each secret boss being a bit different in their mannerisms, like how spamton is very pushy and loud while jevil was more laid back and carefree. What if Mike was just nice, someone who got fucked over because they were too nice to the wrong person, someone who might geniuelly befriend kris (unlike spamton who is just trying to scam them) but then later realises that if he wants to escape his terrible situation he'll have to backstab kris the way he has been (presumably) backstabbed, and in the end gives into the temptation.
This is all conjecture, of course, (and i will the first to admit that its a bit too close to spamton story wise) but it is a possibility!
(<- she has finally been given prompt to mikepost) YEAH!!! I am actually the biggest supporter of niceys mike in the world. (There's no ranking for this so I can just say that I am.) And I do think that could be done in a way that's pretty distinct from Spamton imo. I always liked to think maybe he could have like an Alphys-ish role as like a recurring friendly NPC that shows up a couple times in a normal route... (Maybe that's a little too "unhidden" if the idea is he'd also be a secret boss, but I figured since Spamton is a mandatory miniboss that the secret bosses could be varying levels of out-of-the-wayness....IDK)
To get more dangerously specific my thoughts were something like. Presuming he is a microphone (I will die on the michaelphone battlefield. Unless it turns out to be wrong then I'll be embarrassed) and also a secret boss (I'm less confident of this one but I mean we might as well entertain it), there could be some sort of angle like. A microphone's purpose is to amplify/otherwise relay the sound of people's voices rather than make its own noises.* So I figured if one wants to continue on the "secret bosses have Kris parallels" route, Mike in this idea would be like...A guy who is just in the habit of doing things on behalf of other people rather than for himself. And is like at least outwardly totally accepting of that situation (maybe resigned to it), because that is quite literally his "purpose" as a literal microphone. Which I think is Reasonably Different From Both Spamton And Jevil, and could have some angle that sort of examines "Why does Kris keep letting us go back to controlling them if they clearly don't like it" (I know the generally accepted thing is "They don't seem to function well without their soul in their body" but like the game still hasn't fully talked about that yet) and it's just generally like. A third different outlook on freedom/choices-mattering/whatever. Like instead of going "Nooooo" or "Wahoo I can do whatever" in the face of some kind of inescapable fate he'd just be like "Ah well...I guess that's how it is...". I have no idea how this worldview would lead him to partake in some kind of huge boss fight since it seems a little contradictory to that sort of thing. I guess something crazy probably happens
* I guess a microphone can kind of make unpleasant feedback noises under some circumstance. I'm not sure how this factors into any of the metaphor I prepared I kind of don't have exactly how microphones function memorized
#ask#dt#I feel like I probably said some of these ideas before but it would have been a while ago. I try to ration this sort of mikeposting.#If I want to get even more delusionarily specific In my vision of a hypothetical weird route (it's not very well-defined other than this)#I think maybe you wouldn't even fight him at all.#I think he'd just be like “Wow you seem strong and scary I will become an equippable item now to avoid conflict”#Mostly I think this because having the secret boss become the main boss everytime seems like it'd be a little repetitive.#I do just as easily think there could not really be a weird route in Ch3 at all though. It's kind of Noelle's thing#I just think there's an off chance Ralsei might have it in him. I think he will have fire spells soon.
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