#cutthroat challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lalunanymph · 6 months ago

Text

I BET ON LOSING DOGS

୨୧ an unexpected surprise throws a wrench in your relationship with ken

✧.* ken sato x fem!reader, reader is an uriko (beer girl for japanese baseball games), unprotected s/ex, accidental pregnancy trope, angst with comfort, reader gets harassed, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, mentions of injuries, slight ooc!kenji but this is MY interpretation of him, emi makes an appearance, talks about fatherhood, relationship context, flashback heavy, 8k+ words i am so sick for this man

✧.* dawn says: i am absolutely in love with this pathetic milf </3

Life as the girlfriend of Japan’s number one baseball player wasn’t as easy as people think it is.

The news portals and papers call you a modern day Cinderella, swept from her life of being a simple beer girl, and right into the arms of Japan’s best player, Ken Sato.

Looking back, you never thought you would catch his eye.

You, a simple Uriko girl trying to get enough commission to pay off your literature degree at a community college, and him, one of the best baseball players to ever grace Japan’s shore. The both of you were a mismatch made on the verdant fields of the biggest game in Ken Sato’s life—and you will never forget the day you first met him.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the game will begin shortly! Please get to your seats and hang on tightly for the match of your life.”

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers.

Working as an Uriko girl—or better known as a baseball girl—came with plenty of challenges.

There were the heavy bags full of beer that you had to carry up and down the stands, sometimes weighing up to 10kg. The smiles you always have on, the makeup you wear to hide your eyebags from working two part time jobs so you can afford to pay off your literature degree; sweltering heat and a loud, rowdy crowd fuelled by beer from the other keg girls working this cutthroat job.

Many of them were wannabe idols who perfected the art of cultivating a following on social media and had regulars in the palm of their hands. Only a few handful shared the same fate as you did.

The truth was, you thought it was just another ordinary day at work when you overhear someone whispering excitedly behind the stands.

“I heard Ken Sato has come out of his break to play this game.”

Your attention slips from adjusting the straps of your beer keg and you try to listen in on their conversation.

“He is so cute,” one girl with braided pigtails swoons.

“Totally,” another agrees, wearing a baseball cap backwards to show off her petite features and pouty lips. “And he’s never dated anyone since coming back to Japan. Maybe one of us could change that for him.”

She giggles, as if it's the funniest joke she’s ever told.

You try hard not to roll your eyes. A man like Ken Sato would never go for one of these girls. He was the type to exclusively date models and actresses, not struggling Urikos selling beer on the stands.

But, you don’t dash their hopes, and you follow the rest of them in a line, plastering on a smile and mustering up the courage to charm potential buyers into being regulars.

“Ladies and gentlemen—let’s put our hands together for the Giants!”

The roar of the crowd behind the doors shakes through your sneakers, in tandem with the tripling speed of your heartbeat. Electricity sparks through the air, and you can feel it in between your teeth when the stadium doors open and everyone rushes forward, pushing you along the stream of girls ready to break their sales target.

“And Sato-san steps foot into the pitch!”

You step out of the shadows, into the piercing bright light of the open air stadium, its magnetic dome rippling above.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!”

You take a deep breath and catch a man’s eye. He nods at you and you smile, making your way towards him with a red cup in hand and frozen beer on your back ready to be poured.

Let the game begin.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Ken Sato is back in his element!”

The announcer’s voice booms across the stadium, echoing the cries and cheers from over 10,000 baseball fans coming to see this legendary playoff between the Giants and the Tigers.

It’s the game of his life, and to say that Ken is nervous would be an understatement. He twists the bat in his hands, adjusts his batting helmet and steps onto the pitch.

“Oi, Sato—remember, don’t lose your cool,” Coach Shimura sternly warns him before he enters the game, flinty eyes never once softening even when Ken shoots him a reassuring smile.

“I got this in the bag, coach. Just wait and see.”

Shimura doesn’t scoff, though the corners of his mouth lifts slightly. After months of watching him play in the leagues, the older man can be assured of his star player’s credibility.

Giving him a two finger salute, the young man picks up his favorite bat and high tails it to the edge of the pitch.

The crowds cheer, their cries reverberating right into his bones. He’s focused, eyes on the pitcher who assesses him from head to toe like he’s vermin on the bottom of his shoes. Ken resists the urge to smirk behind his visor, eyes on the ball and head in the game.

“Sato! Sato! Sato!”

He tunes out the cheers, breathing deeply when the pitcher winds his arm back, and the ball goes flying. Narrowing his entire mind on the incoming white blur, he bats and it collides with the hardwood, flying off into the distance.

“And Sato nails it right out of the park!”

“Here we go,” Ken mutters under his breath, lurching across the bases until he finally hits a home run.

The crowd swells like his erratic heartbeat, cheering out his name. Ken gives them a wave, his handsome face plastered all over the big screens, and in the front of the stands, right in the VIP center, his father whoops, raising his cane in exuberance.

Just the sight of the old man fills him with warmth, and Ken doubles back, about to return to his position when a movement on the second bleachers catches his attention.

His sharp, keen eyes catch sight of a man pushing an Uriko girl, goading her on as she backs away, apologizing profusely. He pushes her again, and she stumbles back, dangerously close to the edge of the staircase where she could take a tumble and break her neck.

Ken doesn't know what compels him to lurch right towards her, jumping over the barricade and straight into the stands, much to the crowd’s horror.

“... you rejected me over and over again…”

“I’m sorry but this is just my job!”

The red-faced man puffs his chest, and if looks could kill, the poor beer girl would’ve been dead twice over. He’s twice as big as her, and the other spectators are too afraid to jump right in due to his sheer size. But, that’s never stopped Ken Sato before—in fact, bigger opponents were his speciality.

“Oi! Back away from her,” he growls, and before anyone can blink, he’s grabbing the poor, shaken girl and shielding her behind his body.

The crowds are murmuring, the commentators having a field day announcing every movement of his diversion from the main game. The referee repeatedly blows his whistle, but Ken ignores it, his instinct to protect the weak more important than some league title.

Shimura muscles his way through the crowd, and for a second, Ken thinks he’s gonna blow up on him when the older man glares at the bulky man.

“Get out of here before I call security on you,” he sneers. “Bullying some poor girl because of your delusions. Tch. Away with you!”

The onlookers jeer him, and he has no choice but to scurry away from the game, tail tucked in between his legs unless he wants to face the wrath of every Ken Sato fan.

Later that day when you’re washing your face in a nearby restroom, trying hard not to have a full on breakdown that your reputation and sales were ruined, you stumble into a familiar figure who gives you a once over, his mellow voice resonating through you.

“Hey—you’re the beer girl from before, right?”

Ken takes one look at your red-rimmed eyes and clicks his tongue. “Ah. Crap. Must’ve been a horrible experience for you, huh? You’re making me feel bad, angel. You wanna get some food and then we can talk about it?”

Sliding your eyes over his handsome face, you’re momentarily stunned by those high cheekbones and deeply unnerving violet eyes. His shapely lips and messy dark hair, coupled with his tall, slender build and broad shoulders, makes you suddenly realize that those girls outside the stadium doors were right.

Ken Sato is so cute.

“I-I—” you stammer, and flush, looking away. Did he just call me angel?

He gives you a sheepish smile, devoid of the cockiness and pride you’ve heard most baseball players possess.

“Sorry—too forward? I heard girls in Japan were more shy and reserved so you don’t have to say ‘yes’ if you’re uncomfortable—”

“No!” You exclaim, and then start to panic when the rejection settles in for him. “I mean—yes! Yes. I would like to get some food. With you,” you add lamely. “A-are we going now?”

Catching himself before he bursts into laughter, Ken nods, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sure. I know a great ramen place.”

“Sold,” you say, a smile playing in the corners of your lips.

Maybe you might’ve messed up your commission for the week and would have to defer your dorm payment for another month, but none of it matters to you right now.

All you could think about was how sweet it would be if you could bring back the smile on Ken Sato’s face—perhaps make him laugh for real this time.

“Let’s go for dinner, then,” he gestures for you to follow him, and you swear there are stars in your eyes; you can’t stop staring at him. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Y/N,” you mumble, and blink when he extends his hand, an easygoing grin on those perfect lips.

“I’m Ken. Sato Ken.”

I know, you want to say, but tame down the fangirling, taking his hand. His palm is smooth, but his fingers have calluses on them from one too many rough tumbles on the pitch.

“Y/N,” he turns your name over in his mouth and you think it’s never sounded as beautiful as it does now. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You let go of his hand, feeling his warmth sinking past your skin, making your heartbeat kick up a notch.

“It’s nice to meet you, too… Ken.”

The rest, as they say, is history.

His large palm smoothes down your tummy, drawing you from the brink of sleep and back into a barely illuminated room.

You crack your eyes open, one lid at a time, feeling him pushing your hair aside to kiss down the nape of your neck.

“Mhm,” your boyfriend’s sleep-drenched voice, still husky and rough, makes something deep inside of you throb. “Morning, angel. Did you sleep well last night?”

Stifling a yawn, you nod, much too comfortable in his luxurious king-sized bed. Since coming clean on the dating rumors, Ken had whisked you away from your cramped dorm room to live with him right on the Azabu hills in his expensive, high-tech mansion.

You still went to school and did your assignments, but the biggest difference was you didn't have to worry about food or accommodation like before.

“Like a log.” You lean into his embrace, loving how sturdy and warm his chest is against your back, making you feel protected and safe.

“Good morning, Kenji and Y/N. Shall I prepare breakfast for the both of you? Eggs and toast or some pancakes?”

Mina’s robotic voice chirps from somewhere behind Ken, and you feel him grab a pillow, tossing it over his shoulder. It thuds onto the floor, and you don’t have to look to know that the Sato family’s robot assistant has deftly avoided it.

“Give us some space, Mina,” Ken groans, burying his face into your hair. “It’s cuddle time. We’ll call you when we need you.”

“Alright. But, don’t forget that you have an interview with Tokyo Today at 11AM. Enjoy your morning, Kenji and Y/N.”

You muffle the urge to laugh, turning around and drinking in the sight of his hazy, adoring violet eyes and sleepy face. Booping the tip of his nose with your index finger, you click your tongue. “Don’t be too mean to Mina. She was just doing her job.”

He grabs your hand and presses it to his cheek, breathing in a deep sigh. “Not my fault someone’s being so enticing today.”

“How can I be enticing?” You tease. “I’m just laying right next to you.”

Ken rolls his eyes, drawing the blanket down to expose your naked shoulder. “Um, duh. My super cute girlfriend is naked in bed with me. What else do you think is on my mind?”

He loves how your nose crinkles when you laugh, fighting against the urge to kiss you all over for being so adorable.

You place a palm flat on his chest, exerting the slightest bit of pressure and he yields, shifting onto his back. The look of adoration on his face never wanes when you straddle his lap, your hair falling across his face. He pushes it aside with surprising tenderness, a huge palm cupping your face as he strokes the fullness of your mouth with his thumb.

“I love you, you know that?”

You kiss the pad of his thumb, basking in his adoration and your pure devotion for him.

“I know.”

Ken arches one dark brow. “Not gonna say it back? How rude.”

You giggle at his petulance, gathering his hands into yours and leaving soft kisses on his knuckles. Ken sucks in a sharp breath when you guide his hands to your chest, encouraging him to palm your heaving breasts. Those violet eyes darken with desire, shooting a dirty thrill right up your spine.

“Already so filthy in the early morning.” He doesn’t protest when you lift your hips, finding his stiffening length and giving it a few good pumps before lining it up to your soaked entrance.

“Just for you,” your feathery whisper gets him harder.

Tease. You take him inch by inch, and he has to bite down on his lower lip to keep from springing a high-pitched whine when your velvet walls choke his length.

Your tender nipples turn into hard nubs underneath his palms, the planes of your body a feast for his eyes.

Kenji thinks he’s never seen such perfection up close.

His large palms fold around your hips, and you let him guide you up and down his cock; controlling the speed and depth, completely pliant in his grasp.

Ken makes love to you exactly like how he plays on the field: focused, determined and with a firm grip.

Oh, baby. You mewl, crumpling forward so he can catch you, strong arms vining around your shivering form.

The scent of sex and skin permeates the room, and you’re close enough that you’re starting to see stars behind your closed eyes.

Baby, I can’t hold back, he grunts. Need you to come with me—for me. Let’s do it together, okay?

Your thighs begin to tense, head tipping back.

His violet eyes darken imperceptibly, drinking you in.

Ken Sato is so fucking in love with you he doesn’t know what to do with himself if you ever got hurt.

Your soul reaches out to twine with his, your bodies impossibly close until you’re sure your skin is melting into his.

A burst of white light rocks your entire world, and your universe goes black, filled with only the sensation of his lips on yours and his warmth filling you up.

Ken holds you tightly in the seam of his embrace, kissing your hair and rubbing his cheek all over you like an overgrown cat. You giggle and he joins you, hazily laughing at your hair poking out everywhere.

The moment doesn’t last because Mina pops her head back in, clearing her robotic throat.

“Kenji. 11AM. You have half an hour left to get ready.”

He groans, head thumping back onto the pillows, both your bodies hidden under the blankets so Mina can’t see what he’s been up to, though you’re pretty sure the super smart computer can sense the pheromone shifts in the air.

“Fine. Fine.”

Gently, he nudges you off of him, giving you a kiss on the forehead. Rummaging inside his night stand, he procures a sleek black card and hands it to you without a second thought.

“I’m gonna be busy all day, angel face, so I can’t keep you entertained.” His boyish grin sends flutters in your belly, making you instantly smile. “Go buy something nice and have a good day. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod and pull him in for another quick kiss; this time, Mina hovers by the doorway, her thin robotic arms arranged like a disappointed mother’s hands on her hips.

“Kenji—”

“Coming, coming,” he groans, and slips on his pajama pants and shirt, giving you a wink.

“Dinner tonight, angel face?”

“Like you need to ask.” You blow him a kiss and he catches it, pressing his palm flat over his heart, simultaneously walking backwards out of the bedroom.

Once he turns the corner, you exhale, unable to scrub off the lovesick look on your face.

Bringing his pillow to your face, you inhale the soft scent of his shampoo, forgetting the card and just wanting to bask in his presence a little while longer.

After a day of interviews, Kenji can’t wait to see you again.

He’s asked the chefs to prepare something special for you, a chirashi bowl and your favorite mochi to welcome you back from a day of shopping and classes.

His front door beeps open and you waltz right in, though he can tell something’s off. Your smile’s a little too tight in the corners, and he isn’t sure if the lighting is playing tricks or if your eyes are red-rimmed.

“Baby—”

“Ken, I need to tell you something.”

The truth was you’ve been feeling off the whole week—sleeping in too much, having rapid mood swings, going light-headed whenever you stood up too fast. But, the final strike was when you walked into a ramen shop this afternoon for a quick bite and literally gagged at the smell of freshly cooked rice—which never happens because you love rice more than life.

“I’m pregnant.”

Fumbling in your backpack, you don’t look up, rummaging for the small test which has changed your life in a matter of minutes. You bring it to him, noticing his wide eyes and bloodless lips; looking like he’s gone into shock.

He plucks the test from your hands, scrutinizing the double pink lines that cut through him with more pain than any Kaiju claw ever could.

Without another word, he sets the test down, storming past you and grabbing his leather jacket.

Your world falls apart at the seams when he can’t even look at you, the tufts of dark hair falling across his face being angrily pushed back. Agony rips through your soul, leaving you shell shocked at his reaction, your hands falling uselessly to your side.

“Ken—”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he cuts you off.

You hear a mechanical whirl behind you, Mina coming to your rescue.

“Ken? Aren’t you going to have dinner with Y/N—?”

“Later,” he snaps at her, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen your tender-hearted boyfriend look this angry; a dark cloud hangs over him, thundering across this room and bringing you right into the eye of his disappointment.

Tears sting behind your lids, and you dash at those pesky droplets before they could fall, running after him.

“Ken, I’m sorry—”

“I need time to think.”

You grab at his sleeve, wishing he would just tell you what was bothering him.

“About what?” you shout in despair.

You’re being unreasonable with his request for space, but you can’t see beyond the fear of losing him after you’ve already lost so much: your parents to a Kaiju attack, your sister to a painful drug addiction.

You can’t lose Kenji, too.

He tugs at his sleeve back, nearly making you stumble and fall flat on your face. You catch yourself in time, staring at him in pure shock.

Ken curses under his breath, and despite his cruelty, he steadies your shoulders, clasping onto you tightly. Those violet eyes are brimming with anguish, a pain he is unwilling to share with you. From being an open book whose pages you love to read and reread again, he’s now a subject you can’t possibly understand.

“I need time to myself to think about what to do.” Glancing at the hovering robot, he sighs. “Mina, make sure she gets to bed on time. I’m going for a drive.”

Though she’s programmed to check her Master on orders that do not make sense, her sensors record the cadence of his tone, registering it as pure frustration.

“Of course, Ken. Y/N—come and have some dinner—”

You storm past him, ignoring his squeak of indignation.

“Where are you going?”

Turning back, your lips pull into a terrifying sneer. “Doing you a favor and leaving first.”

“To where?” His exasperation makes you see red, and you don’t reply, huffing and pushing the door open, speed walking towards your old Camry.

“Come on. You can’t be serious.” Kenji uses his longer legs to effortlessly catch up to you, grabbing your arm.

The drizzle outside turns into a light rush of rain, steadily soaking you from head to toe. Ken can’t help the flash of panic at the thought of you driving in such bad weather conditions. But, you’re understandably upset with him and can’t think straight—it was his fault for hurting you first.

Heartbreak radiates across your face and he flinches at the sight of tears welling in your eyes. His shoulders sag and he wants nothing more than to reach out to you and hold you tightly to his chest, but you pull away with a sniff and a shake of your head.

“I can’t believe I thought you would be there for me when I needed you the most.”

You tug yourself free from his grasp, opening the car door and rushing inside; giving him one last, stinging look.

Droplets of icy cold water trickle down his face, illuminated faintly by the green neon of your car’s dashboard.

“Y/N, I…”

He wants to open his heart to you, tell you everything about the man behind the facade.

The wounded son, the struggling young baseball star, the giant hero fighting monsters and the dangers that haunt his waking moments…

But, he clams up, holding you back from the truth.

You exhale brokenly.

It was just like Ken to always keep you at arm’s length—hovering just out of reach. You’re not sure how long you can stay faithful and patient for him to finally let you into his heart.

“Goodbye, Kenji.”

He watches your car speed down the driveway, round the bend and out of his life. His broad shoulders curl forward, and he wants so badly to kick his bike into gear and chase after you, apologizing for his mistake.

But the part of him that would always remain selfish, the one untouched by your goodness and the harsh lessons he’s learned in this life, nails him to the spot.

If he doesn’t chase after you, maybe you might change your mind and get rid of it yourself.

He shakes his head, a wave of disgust rising in him.

Is this who you really are, Ken Sato? A coward?

“Ken? It’s raining. Don’t you want to come in?”

Mina’s concern breaks through his destructive thoughts and he sighs. “Mina, do you have a view on her? Where is she going?”

The robot pauses, scanning through the city’s data systems. “She’s right on Odori-chome. Rounding the bend to Takayo Dorms. It looks like she’ll be staying with a friend tonight.”

As much as he loathes the idea of you being pregnant and having to sleep on some poor college student’s floor, Ken knows he has to give you space or else you’ll implode.

“Okay. If she calls, let me know immediately. She’s pregnant—” He chokes on that word, and Mina gives a concerned whir. “And I’m worried. I’ll see her tomorrow and…” The young man trails off, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Mina, I’m scared.”

She extends one robotic arm, guiding him inside to warmth and dryness, the doors automatically closing behind him. Ken staggers to the couch, kicking the bottom compartment open and finding a can of his favorite Asahi on hand.

He cracks it open, drinking deeply while Mina floats next to him, vigilant and listening.

“Was dad ever scared when mom broke the news to him?”

To his surprise, Mina chuckles. “Why don’t you call him up and ask him yourself?”

Ken considers it, glancing at his watch. Professor Sato was probably already in bed by now, and he didn’t want the old man grilling him on his poor life choices so late in the night.

“... I’ll do it tomorrow. After the playoffs.”

Mina titters and floats in front of him.

“Whatever mistake you think you’ve made Ken, I know you will have the courage to solve it. You are not like the person you were before—you’ve grown. Changed. And when the time is right, everything will fall back into place.”

Her words marginally comfort him, relieving him of the heaviness in his chest. Ken flashes her a weak smile, drooping his head back against the sofa. He hopes to every god above—both baseball and Kaiju deities—that she’s right.

That no matter how things ended between you two tonight, it will never leave a permanent scar on the future.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy you said you were seeing?”

Chisa, your roommate from months ago when you still lived near campus, points at the shoddy screen of her twice broken down TV. She’s sipping on a beer while spreadsheets and blueprints litter around her—remnants of last night’s cramp study session which was interrupted by your unexpected return.

You lift your head from her couch and true enough, the devil in the form of Ken Sato’s confident smile appears on the screen, making your stomach turn and heart twist.

Flopping back onto the hard couch, you sigh. “Yeah.”

Chisa rakes a hand through her platinum blonde hair, stifling a yawn. “You know what—I get it. I would be absolutely shattered too if a hot, successful and rich man dumped me for getting pregnant. You just can’t win everything in life.”

You want to throw a pillow into her face for such harsh words, but a part of you—that small, terrified part—has to agree.

“So, are you going to keep it?”

Her sudden question makes you wish you never asked her for a favor in the first place. While Chisa was friendly enough, it was her sharp tongue and blunt nature which often led you two into mini arguments back when you were still living with her.

“I don’t know,” you tell her truthfully, sitting up and feeling a pang of hunger course through you. “It’s not like I can afford a baby right now without—” Your throat swells, the words caught behind a lump.

Chisa has enough grace not to comment on the tears glossing in your eyes. She turns her attention back to the screen to let you rub them away, raising the volume to drown out your quiet sniffles.

The both of you watch the sports segment—her, completely engrossed, and you numbly tracking Ken's every movement on the pitch. It’s a livestream from one of his games happening this morning, the very first game you won’t be cheering him on from the stands.

Without much thought, you touch your belly, wondering if the little life in there could see his or her daddy on screen. The reality that this would be the only way they could meet their own father makes you tear up again, and you reach for your dead phone, needing to at least hear his voice again.

It didn’t matter if Ken Sato didn’t want you in his life or if he refused to acknowledge the child you’re carrying as his. You just needed to know he would still be there for you.

Hooking it to a cable, you switch your phone back on, and instantly, a stream of messages swarm in.

I know you never liked it whenever I asked Mina to keep an eye on you, but she told me you’re rooming with a friend. Chisa, right? I hope she doesn’t make you sleep on the floor.

Another text.

Yikes. Reading that again, I sound like an absolute dick. What I meant to say was that I hope you’re comfortable and you can rest well. I know the way we ended things was messy to sum it up, but I really hope this wouldn’t be the last time we see each other.

The last text, sent around one in the morning, three hours after your epic fight, reads:

I miss you. Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.

You lift your gaze to the TV again, and start to notice the dark circles under his eyes. The hard set of his mouth. Ken still loves me—he still wants this. Your heart leaps, and you turn your attention back to the screen, typing out:

I miss you. I’m sorry. I

A sudden tremor rocks the house, and your phone goes clattering to the ground. Chisa’s loud yelp rings through your mind as the shakes get more and more intense, as if it's getting closer.

Outside the dorms, screams erupt and alarms blare. The symphonic pattern of the warning is unmistakable: there is a Kaiju nearby.

You lurch to your feet, dragging Chisa by the arm, jolting her into action.

The sound of hundreds of feet running in one direction burns through your mind; Chisa’s arm is a constant around you as she drags you down the road, trying to find shelter from the impending danger.

It’s a lizard or moth hybrid with a wide wingspan and sharp rows of teeth. You’ve seen news reports of Kaijus before, but you’ve never dared to think you would see one up close. Spikes adorn its tail which goes crashing into buildings and houses, debris raining to the screaming crowd below like a reckoning halestorm.

Car alarms blare, in tandem with the rising panicked screams of hundreds of students and teachers who were caught off guard by this sudden attack.

“Look!” Someone yells, and in the distance, you see a human-like shape approaching fast.

“Ultraman!”

“He’s here!”

“He’s here to save us!”

Chisa, whose lips are bloodless and cheeks pale with fright, leads you up the stairs of the business school building, where you both can find higher ground to avoid the falling debris.

In your panic, you trip on a large rock and tumble to the ground, a loud, ominous crack resounding throughout this concrete cube you’ve both locked yourselves in.

“Shit!” Chisa bends down to inspect your ankle. She tries to lift it, but a searing pain cuts through your entire body, your shriek of agony making her flinch. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. This isn’t good. This isn’t—”

Boom!

The doors of the building fly off, and the monster sticks its muzzle inside, sniffing around for its prey. Having scented you and Chisa, it releases a loud screech, and before both of you could even blink, the roof flies off, its sharp talons reaching inside and grabbing you.

The sudden loss of gravity strains your broken foot and you scream in agony and fear.

“Y/N!”

As the monster lifts you right to its face, you think—this is it.

Every nerve in your body is frozen, your mouth falls open and you might’ve screamed—you can’t hear yourself or feel your body or your hands or even your broken foot anymore.

This is how I will die.

“We interrupt this game to announce that there’s a Kaiju attack nearby. All civilians are requested to proceed to the nearest emergency exit. We interrupt this game to announce—”

As the stadium erupts in chaos, Ken hears the worst news his nightmares could conjure when someone screams: “The Kaiju—it’s attacking Takayo University!”

His mind goes into overdrive, his body catching up as he feels the familiar muscles stretching and pulling, turning him into a 50-foot gargantuan hero. Mina chirps to life, and he’s never heard a robot sound so serious before.

“Ken, Gigan is approaching Takayo University. I can’t seem to get a hold on Y/N’s signal. I think her phone is switched off.”

Damn it—damn it all to hell!

He pushes his body to the max, racing towards your direction, hoping against all hope that you were somewhere safe.

The young hero wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you.

“Her messages were all gray yesterday. Her phone’s out of juice,” he snaps back. “Run a search on Chisa’s signal. They should be together.”

“Alright,” Mina whirs. “Chisa’s signal: located. They’re at the Business Faculty Park. I have sent you the coordinates.”

A flash of numbers and lines appear in front of him. Ken reads them quickly and nods. “Got it. Mina, alert dad and tell him Y/N might be harmed. Prepare the base, if needed. If she’s gone, I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Mina doesn’t comment on his language—she chirps back, “Noted. Calling Professor Sato now.”

He sees it then—Gigan the monster who’s stomping around and has something in its grubby claws.

“Mina, I see it. I—”

Ken thinks the light is playing tricks on him. There’s a flash of a familiar sheen of hair, a smaller figure held inside Gigan’s monstrous grip.

“Mina, enhance visibility—what is it holding?!”

The sight enlarges, and Ken gasps. His shock turns into anger, and he’s taking off towards the beast, not caring of anything else in his path as he summons all his anger into a fist and knocks the giant lizard’s head backwards. Gigan’s grip loosens and Ken rushes forward to catch you, holding you tightly to his chest with one hand.

With the monster down for a moment, he glances at his palm, unfurling his fingers to find your pale, frightful face staring right at him.

“Ultraman,” you gasp, and his heart breaks when he notices streaks of tears running down your face.

You must’ve been scared shitless for your life.

“Are you alright?” The tenderness seeps through his tone, and he can’t fight back the cresting wave of loathing and self-hatred when you wrap your arms around your midsection, nodding tearfully.

“I-I’m fine—look out!”

He holds you to his chest, careful not to crush you in his grip as he spins around, deftly avoiding Gigan’s tail as it careens right into his face. The Kaiju raises itself on its hind legs, releasing an earth shattering roar.

Ken cringes back. He needs to find you a safe spot; he can’t bring you into battle like this.

Sprinting away from the carnage, all the screams and fear fade into the distance, his mind hellbent on getting you to safety.

Finding a relatively high rise building that’s been torn apart by the Kaiju and left for ruin, he gently unfurls his hand, placing you back on solid ground as if you’re a Lego figure he needs to safekeep.

You drop to your knees, unable to hold yourself up. Ken sweeps his gaze over you, and without thinking, says: “Mina, run a scan on her. Is she safe?”

Loyal to a fault, she follows his orders, coming to a hard pause when your screech reaches both their attention.

“Mina?! Hang on—”

Despite his sheer size and how tinier you are in comparison, Ken flinches when you march up to him, looking right into his glowing eyes.

The masked hero whose identity has been hidden since the day he assumed the role of Tokyo’s protector, freezes like a deer caught in headlights and for a moment, nothing exists in this world besides your eyes on his. You reach out, tips of your fingers caressing his armored cheek.

As if an unspoken truth comes to light, your eyes widen, and you touch both hands onto his cheek, skimming them across his nose. Those wide, luminescent eyes slip close, like he's enjoying your touch.

“It’s you.” Your choked gasp tears at his soul, and Ken opens his eyes to find you crying, a palm pressed right to your mouth. “Oh my God. It really is you. It—”

Your knees buckle, unable to hold yourself upright to such a heavy truth. You slide to the ground and he reaches out a hand, letting you lean against his much bigger palm. His heart is beating so fast, he has to remind himself to breathe so he doesn’t transform in front of you and can’t protect the rest of the civilians from Gigan.

“Ken,” you say his name like a prayer, curling your much smaller fingers around his ring one, feeling the smooth armor of his alien skin under your touch. “Ken. I knew something was off about you but I—”

This pure moment of ecstatic discovery is cut off by a loud screech.

Ken hears Gigan approach and he’s about to urge you to be safe when you lurch to your feet and stumble towards him.

It’s a split second of unadulterated heaven opening its white, pearly gates when your head touches his gargantuan forehead. You breathe and he breathes, the both of you suspended in this time and space where it's just the two of you in this world—human and beast, lover and monster.

“Come back to me.”

That’s all you say, all you have the time to elucidate before he’s ripped away by Gigan’s claws.

Your cry pierces through his soul, and before he falls, he casts a protective shield around you, trapping you in a blue bubble of safety.

But, it’s a miscalculated move.

Gigan’s tail whips around, knocking the base of the building. One second, Ken’s eyes are locked on yours, and in the next moment, the entire roof falls on top of you.

“Nooooo!”

Ken fights out of the monster’s grasp, using his sheer strength to dig his fingers into the creature's mouth and tear its entire head clean off by its jaw.

Ending its life for daring to hurt yours.

This is it.

He doesn’t care that his father would call this cruel—doesn't care for the mess and press comments calling him unhinged or for the KDF commending him on his efficiency in killing off a Kaiju.

This is his entire universe coming to an end.

The tap tap tap of Professor Sato’s cane on the steel floors of the family’s underground base barely rouses Kenji from his vigil by your sickbed.

From his vantage point, Hayao easily notices his son’s sunken eyes, the unshaven chin and exhausted slump in his shoulders. Ken is holding his phone in one hand, occasionally glancing at a message on the smeared screen. His sharp eyes catch an unfinished message, glossing over it as Ken finally hears his footsteps and pockets his phone hastily.

I miss you. I’m sorry. I

A heavy weight settles in his chest like grease, and the older man exhales a sigh.

Without another word, he takes a seat next to his weary son, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Kenji, you’ve been down here for days. You need to see the sun—stretch and eat a proper meal.”

He turns those solemn, violet eyes he passed down to his son onto the faint pallor of a young woman resting in a medically-induced deep sleep inside the emergency pod, her chest rising and falling slowly.

Your vital stats on a holographic board floats in front of him, and Hayao stifles a sigh when he sees a tiny, bean-shaped blob hovering in another panel, its features barely formed but already so dear to him.

Kenji can barely look at the vitals of his unborn child, eyes closed and head hung heavily as if the weight of the world drags his shoulders down. It might as well have, judging from the mess Hayao had to clean up when his son was too emotionally strained to handle the aftermath of Gigan’s attack.

“I can’t leave her side,” he replies monotonously.

Hayao recognizes that despair Kenji exudes, having experienced it many, many times over his twenty plus years of being a father.

Unexpectedly, he chuckles, and Kenji raises his head, finding his father’s expression faraway, nostalgia glistening in his rheumy eyes.

“Oh, I remember the time your mother broke the news that she was expecting you.”

Any mention of Emiko would draw Kenji’s attention like a moth to a flame. His son listens, patiently waiting for him to reveal the next part.

Hayao smiles and shakes his head. “Just like how you reacted, I was stunned. I had to sit down when she passed me the test. It was the first time she’s ever seen me speechless.” Grasping his son’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze, the older Sato sighs.

“Kenji, there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to sit down and evaluate if he’s the right fit for fatherhood. Any man can be a father, but it takes a noble, patient, and kind-hearted man to be a dad.”

He continues. “Children aren’t easy. Human children, that is. Kaiju ones grow too quickly and already have a set path due to their nature,” he chortles at the memory of Emi, and Ken can’t resist smiling at that.

“But, babies… They test us. Show us what we lack and how imperfect we are. They have their own dreams, needs and wants. They’re loud, messy and take up so much of your heart, thoughts and peace. But, despite all of that, they’re our hopes and dreams.” Hayao chuckles. “If anyone were to ask me what my greatest legacy is, I would never say ‘Ultraman’ or the research I’ve done over the years.”

Ken listens to him raptly, violet eyes wide and waiting.

Hayao finally looks at him, and in those similar purple orbs, he finds a kindred spirit—someone who knows his burdens inside and out because he’s lived through them all for half of his life.

“My greatest legacy is you, Kenji. My son.”

A wizened finger taps on the screen, and the room fills up with the echoing pulse of a second heartbeat, fainter like its coming from the bottom of the ocean. But, it’s as strong as his own, and in that, Ken feels the anger, despair and disappointment he holds for himself slowly dissipating like steam on a hot day.

“And after seeing how much you’ve sacrificed and learned from raising Emi, I know this baby would be so lucky to have you as a dad.”

Hayao gets to his feet with slight difficulty, patting Ken’s shoulder.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Kenji. It will all work out just fine. Take it one day at a time, alright?”

Ken wants to ask about the neverending dread, if his father ever feared putting his family in danger—the perils of parenting and how he’s going to juggle baseball, Ultraman and being a dad (a real one, this time) all at once.

Like he’s heard his son’s uncontrollable thoughts, Hayao turns back to give him one last piece of sage advice.

“Everything will be okay. You are Kenji Sato—your mother’s son and my son. You will never be alone.” He glances at your resting form. “And she will never leave you. A woman who readily accepts our family’s duty and burdens is a rare gem indeed, son.”

“But, mom did the same,” he blurts out, brows knitting together. “She accepted you with open arms, too. How can you say it’s rare when it has happened before?”

Hayao’s eyes sparkle as if Ken has finally found the answer to his perpetually troubling question.

“That’s why I married her.”

He leaves Ken alone to ponder his words, the doors closing behind his frail form.

The young man turns back to your pod, placing a hand over the reinforced glass, right over your belly.

Before he can stop himself, he presses his forehead against the cool metal, sighing.

“Well, you heard him,” he mutters. “The second you wake up, baby, I’m locking you down—there’s no shaking me off this time.”

A click. A whir.

The world slowly comes back to focus and you furrow your brow, biting back a groan. Your body faintly pulses with pain, like it’s remembering the trauma you suffered through a five year memory fade.

But, your limbs work, and it doesn't hurt to breathe.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

That voice…

You pry your eyes open and the second you recognize his face, you think you could break down and cry. Soft violet eyes appraise you, slender fingers reaching out to tenderly graze your cheek.

“Ken…”

He catches your embrace, holding you so tightly you think you might suffocate. The feel of his arms around you is like coming home after a long day, and you think he might feel the same way, his heartbeat thudding erratically under your cheek.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry,” he apologizes over and over again. It takes all of your willpower not to tear up at the look of defeat on his face. You cup his cheek, bringing him closer so both your foreheads can touch.

“It’s alright, Ken,” you murmur, free hand running through his thick, raven locks. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He cradles your tummy at the reminder, looking like a puppy that’s been kicked to the curb.

“I was so mean to you. And to Peanut. I’m so sorry—”

“Peanut?” You blink, and he doubles back, scratching the back of his head.

“I, um… may have given the baby a nickname while you were, uh, recovering.”

Your lovely, silly boyfriend thought you would be angry when it is the furthest from the truth. “Peanut, huh?”

You place your hand over his, drinking in this moment of having your entire family right here, safe and sound.

“I like it. Peanut.” Your smile is saint-like, warm like the first sun rays breaking through a long, dark night. “Peanut is perfect for him or her.”

He doesn’t deserve the grace and forgiveness you’ve shown him and Kenji thinks that for the rest of his life he wants to atone for all the wrongs he’s ever committed.

Your health is his priority, and kick-starting this renewed promise to you, he’s there every step of the way during your recovery—feeding you, bathing you, helping you regain your ability to walk without needing a crutch, taking you to physiotherapy classes so you would be mobile again after breaking your leg.

He even shows you Kaiju Island with his dad, Professor Sato and him catching up with a now one year old Emi who’s grown into her wingspan and new abilities. At first, you were terrified to meet the Kaiju baby your boyfriend once raised, but the moment she scented you, she was all over you like an overly-friendly cat.

Her beak presses against the barely-there swell of your belly, and she coos in delight.

Looks like Emi is happy to be a big sister. Professor Sato laughs at that, thumping his son on the back.

Siblings—Kaiju and a human—I’ll have to trash my entire research thesis because nothing can compare to this!

You move back in with Ken, ditching your old dorm and studying from home to accommodate your growing belly and fatigue. Your lecturers were understanding enough, though you suspect the Ken Sato’s reputation was enough for them to give you some leeway.

Ken reduces his time spent on the pitch to be home with you and the baby, catching the press’ attention who start to wonder if the great Ken Sato is cracking yet again. Eventually, it's his old frenemy, Ami, who spots him leaving a prenatal clinic with you one rainy morning after tailing him for days.

Your boyfriend literally has to bribe her with two months worth of free Tonkatsu dinners on his card before she lets the scoop go, giving you a sympathetic look that makes you laugh and Ken indignant.

Life was back to normal—or, as normal as it could be after finding out your boyfriend is literally a 50-foot alien superhero who fights monsters.

One night where you’re both just lazing around on the sofa, Ken decides to show more of his world to you, and tugs your hand, leading you to the underground base which he affectionately dubs his ‘mancave’.

There, he asks Mina to pull up an old recording of Emiko on the stands and officially introduces his girlfriend to his mother.

“She’s beautiful, Ken.” You approach her with a fond smile, and his arms wrap around you; heart filled with pure happiness at the sight of his two favorite women in one room. Ken kisses the top of your head and then sighs.

“I wish you could meet her, baby. She would’ve loved you to the moon and back.”

He tells you of the efforts to retrieve her from a wormhole; how he spends everyday wondering if the next time he sees his mother, he’ll be just as old and gray as her. You’re there for his every rumination, every fear.

“My parents separated when I was really young,” he confesses while you’re both lying in bed in each other’s arms, giving you another piece of his childhood that you welcome with no judgment. “I don’t want to be like my dad—putting Kaijus or my career first that I lose the both of you.”

At those words, you take his face in your hands, looking him in the eye as you shake your head. “You will never lose me, Kenji Sato. I’m yours and you’re mine. We’re in this as a team and we’ll see this through.” Echoing his father’s advice, you grin. “Let’s just take this one day at a time, okay?”

With his past revealed and double identity known, it’s your turn to be there for him in a different way.

When the voices of doubt get too loud for him, you don’t let him wallow in his misery for long, encouraging him to teach you how to bat a ball or letting him press his cheek to your growing tummy so he can feel Peanut moving around.

You meant every word you said to him that night in the tender darkness: you were both a team. No matter how bad the storm hits, you would weather it together.

One day, without you expecting it, Ken proposes to you while you’re both watching a movie.

“I can’t walk down the aisle!” You pout, and he’s taken aback, thinking you’re flat out rejecting him when you point at your nose. “My nose will be all squished and the photos will come out ugly,” you whine. “Pregnancy noses are a thing,” you try to convince him as he bends over in laughter.

“Baby,” he wipes the tears from his eyes, broad shoulders shaking with repressed mirth. “Squished nosh or not, I still love you, squirt.”

He removes a simple, velvet box from his pants pocket and reveals a ring with your birthstone and his on it. You whisper about a hundred ‘yes's’ in response to his “Will you marry me, sweetheart?”; tearing up when he slips the ring onto your left hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately.

“Have I ever told you I love you so, so much, baby?”

Though you have no idea what’s in store in the future with a man who can turn into a superhero, and a whole new world of monsters, baseball and parenthood to navigate, you thank your lucky stars that he’s right beside you for the journey.

“Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear it again.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, the feel of his smile on your skin like the embrace of home.

“I love you.”

“Hah,” you look up, starry-eyed and in love as you push his bangs out of the way. “I love you, too, Kenji Sato.”

— feedback and reblogs are appreciated <3

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim my plot points, structure and elements of work as your own.

#🦢 writes #kenji sato x reader #ultraman rising x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #kenji sato smut #kenji sato angst #ultraman x reader #tw pregnancy #tw unprotected sex #first ultraman post let's go !!

1K notes · View notes

spotlight-if · 2 months ago

Text

Lights, Camera…Chaos.

[PLAY HERE] (October 23rd, 2024) Act 1, Chapter 1, 64.2k words.

For as long as you can remember, your dream has stayed the same—you want nothing more than to make it as an actor in Hollywood. After years as an overlooked, overworked talent, your big break comes from an unlikely source. And it’s one that changes everything, for better or worse.

Hollywood is its own character within this world—sometimes it loves you, sometimes it wants nothing more than to see you crash and burn. Navigating this ever changing landscape while balancing your own interpersonal relationships is only half the challenge. The other half is memorizing your lines.

Navigate the red carpet, bloodthirsty paparazzi, cut-throat tabloids and complicated relationship dynamics with A-list celebrities (who may or may not be completely insane.)

But, hey: isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

Key Features:

- Customize your Actor: are you a classic Hollywood heartthrob? An eccentric and unconventional recluse? Are you kind and genuine despite the fame, or a cutthroat diva with undeniable talent?

- Navigate scandal, paparazzi, and stan culture: dodge or embrace the flashing lights. Interact with your fans, or distance yourself from them for your sanity. Wait—who are they shipping your character with?

-Build your legacy: choose between the stability of superhero blockbusters or turn into an indie darling. Or, maybe forgoe both to become a household name in the horror genre.

- Network and build relationships: whether they’re manufactured by your well-meaning publicist or spawned from real feelings, forge dynamic and ever changing relationships with other industry icons.

- Try to manage your mental health: the dark side of the industry lurks in every corner—the highs are high, but the lows are ever lower.

Characters:

Kendall Mays (gender selectable)—ever the loyal best friend, Kendall followed you into the throes of showbiz without hesitation. From fighting over toys on the playground to helping you run lines for a major motion picture, you can always count on them to have your back. That is, before they met Mason—their ever-present boyfriend who demands more and more of their time. You were never that great at sharing.

[Note: Kendall is not a romance option.]

Sutton Foster (he/him, she/her)—child star turned award winning powerhouse. Sutton Foster has everything an actor could want—well, minus the countless stays at rehab centers around the world. It’s undeniable that Sutton is a generational talent, but what’s even more notable is their messy personal life. You yourself have been caught in Sutton’s gravitational pull, once upon a time. The question lies in whether or not you’ll pull yourself away.

Wyn Grace (he/him, she/her)—on stage, Wyn is electric. The same cannot be said for Wyn off-stage. The lead singer of the up-and-coming Indie band is struggling with their meteoric rise to fame. As the awards pile up and the crowds get bigger, Wyn is unraveling at the seams. All they wanted to do was make music with their friends, but the fame makes them reconsider it all.

Lex Moreau (he/him)—an older, award-winning director with an…eccentric disposition. Yet despite his volatile nature and obsession with perfection, anyone who’s anyone would kill to work with him. Lex is always in search for a muse, a great beacon to pour all of his artistic vision into. And now, he thinks he’s found that in you. Lucky you?

[C is a conditional character, only appears based on choices you make.]

Carlo/Carmen Mencina (gender selectable)—C is harder to pin down than a stable acting gig in LA. When you’re together—it’s kismet. The problem lies in when you’re apart. C’s frequent disappearances abroad leave a bad taste in your mouth, and when a shocking truth comes to light, it’s not just your relationship in the spotlight—it’s your life, too.

Flings and other mini-romances will be available as well. But these I will let be revealed as the story progresses.

When writing this game, I knew what themes I wanted to focus on, and the care/detail needed to do so. Hence, this game is strictly 18+.

TW: death, substance abuse, suicide, bullying, explicit language, violence, and explicit (skippable) sexual content.

Thank you for reading my intro! Reblogs are welcome, and my ask box is open (:

And major thank you @thecutestgrotto for the gorgeous headers!

#interactive fiction #choice of games #cog #hosted game #cog game #dashingdon #interactive game

594 notes · View notes

its-opheliasgarden · 3 months ago

Text

aftertaste. | welcome to the spice market

meet khosi wambui. an aspiring chef with something to prove. recently accepted into britechester's illustrious culinary simstitute (san myshuno campus), she's used all her savings to make the move and chase her dreams in the big city. 1 plane, 1 train, and 1 taxi later...she's finally arrived at her new home in the spice market. does khosi have what it takes to make it in the cutthroat world of fine dining or will the bitter aftertaste of defeat send her packing?

finally excited to post my new gameplay esp since my blog is fully back and i don't have weird restrictions. a little random but this gameplay was inspired by a combination of watching the bear (i know i'm late af), boiling point, and this amazing prompt for gen. 3 from @fruitysimsy and @hellohopesims, 'struck by love legacy challenge'. these all served as a lot of inspiration for me to set up a new save for this gp...excited to share more!

-d.

#ts4 #the sims 4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4mm #ts4 maxis match #ts4 san myshuno #umami save #its-opheliasgarden #iog*

659 notes · View notes

silentreigns · 5 months ago

Text

James Vowels portrayed himself as being a compassionate TP but he is as cutthroat as the rest of them. Idk why I was fooled into thinking that Williams will genuinely try and nurture talent. I understand that Logan hasn't really challenged Alex. And maybe this is just me being biased towards feelings over facts, but I really do feel for Logan. I'd hate to show a lot of progress and improve in tricky conditions just for reports to come out he was trying to replace me mid-season. Way to build up someone's self-esteem as a driver 🤥

#sports are more mental than physical to me #if you're not in the right mindset it's gonna be harder to produce results #and yes i am aware that it was over for logan before the season started #but stop playing with drivers' emotions like they get enough criticism as it is #f1 #formula 1 #logan sargeant

390 notes · View notes

novy2sirius · 2 months ago

Text

NUMERICAL NOTES

— volume eight

⋆｡°✩ each numbers challenging energy can come to an end once you find its purpose. think of it as a bill that has to be payed. for example: 14’s are constantly getting attacked a lot, so they must fight and defend themselves in order to put an end to these negative energies, 9’s are constantly being tested to end things, etc

⋆｡°✩ when people with 3 energy walk into the room they naturally gain lots of attention with minimal effort in a way that others can’t. this is because it’s the number of the child and children get lots of attention from their parents and others in general (like when you have a baby in the store and everyone walks up to you and says it’s so cute)

⋆｡°✩ people with 22 energy are good at focusing at one skill and mastering it, but they may struggle in all other areas

⋆｡°✩ when higher vibrational, people with 29 energy are the most sympathetic people. they see the best in people and always uplift others

⋆｡°✩ most 8’s are very cutthroat when it comes to business projects, but 26’s aren’t. they want to work with others as a team and treat their business partners like family

⋆｡°✩ people with 14 energy can be great boxers or fighters in general. 14 rules over the hands and 14 reduced is 5 (1+4) which also is good for boxing since 5 is the number of war

⋆｡°✩ you can think of 9 energy in numerology the same way you think of neptune in astrology. it’s like a black hole that absorbs whatever energy is around it and then spits it out. 9’s are mirrors which is why they’re one of the most hated numbers because most people don’t like themselves

⋆｡°✩ i’ve talked about 7 being bad for love, but some numerologists argue that 5 is almost as bad since it’s the number of freedom. these people don’t do well with commitment. especially the men as 5 is a masculine number

⋆｡°✩ people with 8 energy hate being told what to do as it’s the number of power. they don’t like when others have power over them in any way

⋆｡°✩ people with 9 energy tend to have bad judgment unless paired with prominent 8 energy. they are really naive and get taken advantage of by others too easily

#numerology #numerology blog #matrix #the matrix #simulation #life path number #numerology community #numerical energy #spirituality blog #spiritual realm #spirituality #life path

294 notes · View notes

paulmias · 11 months ago

Note

paul mescal request 👀

maybe meeting him at an industry party and sharing a cigarette and then it evolves

You Can Be The Boss | Paul Mescal X Fem! Reader

As an actress, and daughter of two of the biggest names in your country of the 90’s, It was inevitable that your name would make it onto the list of Gucci’s Fashion week list.

They had flown you out to Milan, saw that you had a hotel room and clothes for the event, all so you could sit and watch as dozens of models strut about in clothes most people would have to work decades to afford.

When the models would pass you, your gaze kept lingering to him, how could it not? There was a mesmerising sort of charm about him. It consumed you, you had tried to approach him when the event coordinators were ushering hoards of high profile people into limousines to take them to the after party, but you’d had no luck.

You couldn’t find his eyes in the sea of people dancing to whatever the DJ was playing, the music was far too loud, it brought back the migraine you had managed to shift a few days back, after swiping a champagne flute from one of the waiters walking around with them, you snuck out onto the balcony that overlooked Milan.

Having forgotten to bring your own case of cigarettes, you let out an exasperated sigh before downing the champagne. When you lowered the glass from your lips, He was there, cigarette between his lips, almost grinning, his appearence had been so sudden that you’d jumped and dropped the flute over the balcony.

Watching it fall, you felt like an asshole for whoever would have to clean that up later. “Fuck!” The words escaped your lips before you could think properly.

You heard his chuckle and turned to face him. The urge to tell him he was at fault restrained itself. “Do you want a light? I saw you checking that bag of yours for one.” Paul offered. You nod, not exactly desperate for one, but you certainly wouldn’t decline one.

He puts his between his lips and then pulls the case out from his pocket, the only one that remains is squished, not nearly useful enough for you to smoke.

He pulls the one from his lips out, and offers it to you. “You sure?” You question. He nods, and you look so relieved before placing it between your pointer and middle fingers.

After a few exchanges of the cigarette, he speaks as you have it in your lips. “I’ve seen your work, I adore your recent film. Are your team pushing for award nominations?” He asked.

You nodded, your agency was not nearly as cutthroat in that aspect as you would have liked, but you had signed a six year contract with them five years ago, so you would soon be free from them, and hopefully be able to join a more affluent agency. You handed him the cigarette.

“Thank you.” The two of you spoke in unison before chuckling “Yeah, my Uhm, my team are trying but I’m with an agency that are like, more focused on modelling so it’s a bit of a challenge but, I’m still young, I’ve got time to win awards.” You replied.

He takes a drag as he nods. “You looking to change agents?” He questioned, you nodded. “My manager’s looking for new clients, I could pass your name along if you’d like.” He offered.

His manager, you had heard, was a woman very dedicated to her job. “I’d love that, thank you.” You told him. You take a step closer to him, it just feels natural. “You’re gorgeous do you know that?” He asked.

You blushed, which caused him to chuckle, it wasn’t mockingly, rather, one of enjoyment of seeing you so flustered by his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You replied.

He dropped the cigarette onto the floor and leant forward, his face centimetres away from your own, and then he cupped his hands around your face, pulled you in and kissed you.

A/N: This is my first time writing x reader stuff .. hope u enjoyed

#paul mescal #paul mescal x reader #x reader #normal people #connell waldron #aftersun #gladiator 2 #gods creatures #foe #carmen

705 notes · View notes

raziiyah · 3 months ago

Text

hey! this is actually something i've thought about quite a lot before so here's how i see it:

since monsters are so diverse in the monster world, there are a vast amount of factors that are considered beautiful. some monsters may like 1 eye, some like 3 eyes and some like 8. some like feathers, scales, or fur. it just comes down to preference. but for monsters, generally, scary = beautiful

firstly, for the teeth thing, i imagined that just like human beauty standards, monster beauty standards can change. perhaps yellow teeth used to be the standard, but then it was discovered that whiter teeth made them more visible and gave them a scarier appearance. also, maybe they discovered that poor dental health caused monsters to lose their teeth sooner, which is a problem if you rely on them for scaring. proper dental care allowed you to stay healthy and kept your teeth in good condition, keeping you in the scaring career for longer. like when sulley is brushing his teeth in mi, mike really emphasizes getting rid of plaque

this change could also be why randall's teeth in mi are visibly whiter than they were in mu

as for female monsters, i see it sorta like how jessica rabbit from who framed roger rabbit is in toon town. she's regarded as very beautiful, but not as desireable or successful (to other toons) as roger rabbit, someone more cartoony and goofy looking

so though the more humanoid looking monsters could be considered beautiful, since being a scarer is known as the biggest achievement a monster could have, if you're scary, you're considered beautiful on a whole other level.

another idea i had is that scaring could be considered as a male dominated career, so the scary/beauty standards for female monsters aren't as scrutinized as much as male monsters. this could be why there are more female monsters that aren't necessarily as "scary looking"

this could also play a role into why the pnk's are so cutthroat- with a more conventionally beautiful appearance, they might not be considered the most successful in monster society. sure they could be models and movie stars

(though i can still see """scary/conventionally unattractive""" monsters being just as viable as models and moviestars in the monster world, maybe even more so),

but since scarers are the creme de la creme, "prettier" monsters could sometimes be seen as beautiful but maybe not typically the image of someone "successful" or "desireable" (my oc lia is a scarer and has a body type similar to the pnks so i made this an insecurity of hers hehe)

but monsters can combat this by showing their scariness through their glowing eyes, teeth, claws, etc. this could be valuable as well as there's a scary/surprising factor to appearing "innocent" at first, which could be advantageous in scaring, if you know how to use it (like the pnk's in the toxicity challenge or terri and terry in the scare simulator)

also considering the movie poster seen in maw; it's about monsters in space, likely referring to aliens. humans could be considered aliens/alien-looking to monsters because they come from another world, and heather has a more humanoid appearance

on the other hand, hss is more favored as "one of the most powerful, scary monsters in campus, and they have a more traditionally "scary" appearance. and in monsters at work, of the female monsters in the mu sororities, rosie levin was the one who made it to the same scare/(laugh) floor that sulley/(mike) are/(were) on, at monsters inc.

so really i think beauty is subjective in the monster world since everyone is so different. conventionally beautiful monsters are still beautiful, maybe even some monster's preference, but scary monsters are generally favored most, because of how much monster society is centered around scaring. after all, "scariness is the true measure of a monster."

@moonlight-monster @randall-simp-nadt88

112 notes · View notes

eggluverz · 1 year ago

Text

A STARE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS

PAIRING. dan feng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. you and dan feng were just friends. close comrades who challenged each other. but you were starting to suspect that just friends don't stare at each other like this...

NOTE: dan feng on the brain !!!! i was looking thru some writing prompts and there was a list of friends to lovers that inspired meeee :> i hope y'all enjoy this lil dan feng drabble!! :o ~sof

It wasn’t always easy being a friend of the esteemed High Cloud Quintet, but it sure was fun. In a group of warriors and leaders, some of your morals seemed to go against the grain. With your more pacifist approach, you preferred healing and mediating disagreements rather than resorting to a clash of the swords.

Still, you were not young with folly such as before. You understood there was a time and place for everything and, sometimes, war was inevitable in this world. You could only sigh to yourself, wishing it weren’t so.

But while battles waged on, you at least wanted to help those wounded trying to fight for what was right—no matter how misguided you thought their approach was.

Dan Feng was someone you chose to confide in. The great warrior, the Imbibitor Lunae, somehow empathized with your inner conflicts more than you would have expected him to. He may have been a cutthroat, fearless leader, but he was also gentle and thoughtful, pondering whether or not the ends truly justified the means in between brutal battles.

The people he led could never see that ever-questioning side of him. Nor could he ever find the vulnerability to show them. That was something he reserved only for the closest of friends.

That was something he reserved only for you.

You let out a deep breath after a long day of work, smiling only to greet Dan Feng who had asked you to meet up with him over dinner.

“Like a date,” Baiheng sang with a grin when you had told her the previous day.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory. Two friends could certainly partake in evening consumption of sustenance together without it being a date, you had reminded her. And yourself.

“Sure, but do just friends stare into each other’s eyes for seconds too long like you two do?”

With a small laugh and a shake of your head, you brought yourself back to present time with Dan Feng.

“Good evening,” you greeted with a wave. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I have been left alone here all day waiting for your arrival,” he jested with a dramatic sigh, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards to let you know he was only joking.

“Of course,” you played along, “I do not doubt that the great Imbibitor Lunae has plenty of time to spare waiting about.”

“For you? Most certainly.”

You fought a grin off your face at his kindness. Dan Feng truly was a good person, always putting his friends first. For a moment, you wondered how much more thoughtful he would be towards a partner—towards someone he had romantic feelings for. But you did not allow yourself to entertain those thoughts for too long. After all, you had food to eat.

“I requested your favorite dish,” he said as the meal came to your table. Establishments in which private outdoor dining was an accommodation were not common in your area, so you and Dan Feng often frequented the one closest to you. It was no strange feat for him to commit your favorite dish to memory. “I hope I did not overstep, but it was getting dark out and I know you tend to grow rather famished at this hour.”

You smiled as the scent of the food in front of you wafted through the air, causing your stomach to grumble quietly. “I appreciate your preparation, Dan Feng. You aren’t overstepping in the slightest.”

In fact, you quite liked that Dan Feng went out of his way to ensure you would have food to eat by the time you arrived for dinner. He was right— You were running late today and you were rather peckish by the time you had arrived. It was a simple act of kindness, and you were grateful for it.

Dan Feng really was nice to his friends.

If you did not have a good head on your shoulders, you might have let your emotions confuse the situation and misread his intentions towards you. He simply was a good friend to you and the High Cloud Quintet, though in moments of delusion you felt yourself imagining more.

Especially moments of delusion fueled by the unnerving stare on his face directed right at you. Unnerving in a positive sense, of course.

Unnerving in a way of not being able to understand the depth of emotions behind those bright eyes of his. Unnerving enough to pique your curiosity and want to learn just what that stare meant.

The certain stare he was giving you right now.

Was he looking at you like a confidant? A scholar to share his pacifist literature with? A friend? A lover?

If Dan Feng noticed your inner turmoil, all he did was smile. It was a smile that said he knew exactly what was running through your mind. His piercing gaze stayed locked on yours as he tilted his head and took a sip of tea.

Unable to help yourself, you blurted, “Do you intend to look at me in such a way?”

An expression of delighted amusement formed on his face before he regained his stoic composure. “In what manner are you referring to, my dear?”

Your heart stirred in confusion at his affectionate words. This High Elder truly had a disarming effect on you.

“Such as how you are staring at me right now!” you cried, feeling rather indignant. “It is how you’ve been staring at me for the past few months, even. It— It bewilders me!”

“And how, exactly, am I staring at you?” he pushed, a confident smile on his lips as he awaited your answer.

“You are staring at me…as if you want me.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, like he was shocked you gave in to his teasing and prodding this time.

“You keep staring at me like that, and treating me in a special manner… You should be careful, Dan Feng,” you said with a sigh, slowly bringing your utensils to your mouth. Before biting, you stated, “You could confuse even the most refined of individuals that way, are you aware?”

He studied you before asking, “As an esteemed and refined Vidyadhara yourself, what do you find confusing?”

“Whether I am reading your intentions incorrectly or not,” you said, no longer bothering to hide you frustration.

“It is not my desire to confuse you,” promised Dan Feng, a genuine look on his face as you finally met his gaze again. “For that, I apologize sincerely.”

Your stomach churned in dejected understanding. “Thank you for the apologize. It is okay.”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and confused his kindness for interest. You shoved the food around on your plate, trying to downplay your disappointment that Dan Feng did not desire you after all.

At your lackluster response, he cleared his throat. He looked at your downcast expression and frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear enough. Believe me, you are certainly not misinterpreting my intentions.”

Your eyes widened at his clarification. “Meaning…?”

“I do want you.” Dan Feng set his teacup down with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I admire your strength and your intellect. Your desire for peace and your willingness to do what is right. You are nuanced and complex and, at times, even oblivious,” he smiled at the thought of you misunderstanding his initial confession, “and you are my close friend I have found myself getting more and more drawn to.”

Giggles bubbled up from inside you, more so in excitement than in amusement. If it weren’t unbecoming of an unpartnered Vidyadhara to show public displays of affection, you would have ran over to Dan Feng and given him a hug by now.

“I want you, too, Dan Feng,” is what you said instead. “You are cunning and sharp, yet understanding and gentle. Your thoughtfulness is inspiring and I have never met anyone more loyal than you.”

The apples of his cheeks tinged the lightest pink you had ever seen, and you fought the urge to continuously shower him with more compliments.

“You’re the only one I could confide my potentially treasonous thoughts in,” you laughed while he nodded with amusement. Your gaze softened as your tone grew more serious. “You are one of my best friends, but I can envision a road in which we are more than that, even— Lovers.”

If he was surprised at all, he did not show it.

“That is the path I would prefer to take.” Dan Feng extended his hand from across the table as if it were a mere offering to your boundless grace. “Do you desire to take it with me?”

“With you?” you repeated, slipping your hand into his with a smile. “Most certainly.”

#hsr x reader #dan feng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr fanfiction #dan heng x reader #dan feng #imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae x reader

1K notes · View notes

targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months ago

Text

A Duet of Fire and Fate

ONGOING

Summary: Aemond Targaryen, a talented cellist marked by his family's legacy and a personal tragedy meets a gifted pianist from a music rival school. As they navigate the pressures of a national music competition, their initial rivalry transforms into a complex relationship filled with unspoken desires and shared musical ambitions. Amidst the backdrop of high stakes performances and the cutthroat world of classical music, they discover that their greatest challenge isn't winning the competition, but understanding the true harmony between their hearts and their art.

ADOFAF: Taglist: @julczimozart @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @apothe-roses @bellaisasleep @tulips2715 @deliaseastar @lorarri

Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive ♥️

303 notes · View notes

cool-fancier · 10 months ago

Text

Captured Moments

Jennie Kim x Fem Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Synopsis: Y/N and Jennie's journey from trainee friends to K-pop stars culminates in a dazzling Calvin Klein photoshoot, winning fans' hearts

Before the fame and the bright lights of the K-pop industry, there was a friendship that laid the foundation for something deeper. You and Jennie met during your early days as trainees under the same entertainment company. Drawn together by a shared passion for music and performance, you quickly became inseparable.

Despite the pressures and challenges of trainee life, you found solace in each other's company. Late-night practice sessions turned into heart-to-heart conversations, where you shared your dreams, fears, and aspirations for the future. In Jennie, you found a kindred spirit, someone who understood the highs and lows of chasing your dreams in the cutthroat world of K-pop.

As the years passed, your bond only grew stronger. You watched with pride as Jennie rose through the ranks to become a member of Blackpink, one of the most iconic girl groups in the industry. Meanwhile, you pursued your own solo career, honing your craft and making a name for yourself as a talented performer in your own right.

Through it all, your friendship with Jennie remained a constant source of support and inspiration. You celebrated each other's successes and lifted each other up during the inevitable setbacks and challenges that came with life in the spotlight. And amidst the chaos of the industry, you couldn't help but feel a growing attraction to Jennie – a spark that ignited into something more.

After two years of dancing around your feelings, you and Jennie finally took the leap and confessed your love for each other. It was a decision met with both excitement and trepidation, knowing the potential backlash that could come from being open about your relationship in an industry that often frowned upon same-sex couples.

But love, as they say, knows no bounds. And so, you and Jennie made the decision to stand together, facing whatever challenges came your way with unwavering determination and a fierce devotion to each other.

— — — — — — —

The day of the Calvin Klein photoshoot was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves. As one of the main ambassadors for the brand, Jennie was a seasoned pro when it came to posing for the camera, her confidence and poise evident in every frame. Meanwhile, you were a newcomer to the Calvin Klein family, eager to make your mark alongside your girlfriend.

As you stepped onto set, you were greeted by a flurry of activity – stylists fussing over wardrobe choices, makeup artists applying the final touches, and photographers adjusting their cameras for the perfect shot. Despite the chaos, there was an undeniable energy in the air, a sense of anticipation for the magic that was about to unfold.

Jennie was already in the midst of her solo shoot when you arrived, her signature pout and smoldering gaze captivating the camera with effortless ease. You couldn't help but marvel at her beauty, the way she seemed to command attention with every movement.

"Wow," you whispered to yourself, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "She's incredible."

Just then, Jennie caught your eye from across the room, her lips curling into a mischievous grin as she struck a pose for the camera. You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as she winked in your direction, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

"Cut! That's a wrap for Jennie's solo shots," the photographer called out, signaling the end of the first part of the shoot. Jennie sauntered over to where you were standing, her confidence radiating like a halo around her.

"Hey, you," she said, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug. "How's it going?"

You melted into her embrace, reveling in the warmth of her touch. "I'm good," you replied, your voice soft with affection. "Just a little nervous about my solo shots."

Jennie leaned back slightly, her hands resting on your shoulders as she looked at you with a reassuring smile. "You'll be amazing, I know it," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "And besides, I'll be right here cheering you on every step of the way."

As you and Jennie took your places on set, the photographer wasted no time in getting started. The studio lights cast a warm, flattering glow over both of you, accentuating every curve and contour of your bodies as you stood side by side.

"Alright, let's start with some solo shots first," the photographer instructed, adjusting the lighting and camera settings.

Jennie flashed you a quick grin before striking a pose, her movements fluid and confident as she effortlessly switched from one position to the next. You couldn't help but admire her grace and poise, the way she seemed to command the attention of everyone in the room with just a single glance.

As you watched her, a playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and you knew she was up to something. Sure enough, as the photographer snapped away, capturing Jennie in all her glory, she couldn't resist throwing in a few extra flourishes – a wink here, a subtle hair flip there – all designed to make you laugh.

"Cut it out, Jennie," you chuckled, shaking your head at her antics. "You're going to distract the photographer."

Jennie just grinned in response, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she struck another pose, this time exaggeratedly dramatic. "What? I'm just giving the people what they want," she quipped, earning a chuckle from the photographer.

After a series of solo shots, it was finally time for the two of you to pose together. As the photographer directed you into position, Jennie sidled up next to you, her shoulder brushing against yours as she flashed you a conspiratorial grin.

"Ready to steal the show?" she whispered, her voice filled with excitement.

You nodded, a grin spreading across your face as you leaned in closer to her. "Always."

With that, the two of you launched into a series of playful poses, each one more adventurous than the last. From piggyback rides to playful wrestling matches, you threw yourselves into the shoot with abandon, reveling in the freedom of being able to express your love openly.

As the photographer urged you to get closer, you felt a surge of adrenaline course through your veins, the thrill of being able to share this intimate moment with Jennie overwhelming your senses. With each click of the shutter, you and Jennie grew bolder, more daring in your displays of affection.

"Let's try something a little more intimate," the photographer suggested, motioning for the two of you to move closer together.

Jennie grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you flush against her. "Closer, baby," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

You shivered at the sensation, your heart racing as you allowed yourself to surrender to the moment. Wrapping your arms around Jennie's neck, you pulled her even closer, reveling in the feel of her body pressed against yours.

"Perfect," the photographer exclaimed, snapping away as you and Jennie shared a lingering gaze. In that moment, there was no one else in the world but the two of you – lost in each other's eyes, bound together by an unbreakable bond of love.

As the shoot came to an end and the final shots were captured, you and Jennie lingered on set, reluctant to let go of the intimacy that had enveloped you. It had been a day filled with laughter, tears, and everything in between, but through it all, you had stood together – united in love and unwavering in your commitment to each other.

"Thank you," you whispered to Jennie, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "For everything."

Jennie smiled, her eyes shining with love and affection. "Anytime, my love. Anytime."

As the photographer signaled for you to start your solo shots, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. The studio lights illuminated the set, casting dramatic shadows against the backdrop as you struck your first pose.

You glanced over at Jennie, who was watching you intently from the sidelines, her eyes filled with admiration and pride. With a playful smirk, you began to move, each step deliberate and purposeful as you channeled your inner confidence.

"Work it, babe!" Jennie called out, her voice filled with encouragement.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth wash over you at her words. With renewed determination, you launched into a series of sexy poses, each one designed to showcase your best angles and highlight your natural beauty.

As you moved, the photographer adjusted the lighting, capturing your every movement with precision and skill. With each click of the shutter, you felt yourself growing more confident, more empowered by the knowledge that you were owning the moment.

"Beautiful!" the photographer exclaimed, snapping away as you struck a particularly sultry pose. You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement course through you at the praise, a sense of satisfaction settling over you as you basked in the spotlight.

But it wasn't just the photographer's approval that spurred you on – it was Jennie's unwavering support and encouragement that gave you the strength to push yourself further. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more confident, more radiant in your beauty.

As the shoot progressed, you found yourself growing bolder, more daring in your poses. You threw caution to the wind, allowing yourself to fully embrace the sensuality of the moment as you basked in the glow of the studio lights.

"Hot damn!" Jennie exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration as she watched you in awe. "You are absolutely killing it!"

You grinned at her praise, feeling a surge of pride swell within you. With renewed energy, you continued to pose, each movement fluid and graceful as you allowed yourself to fully inhabit the role of the confident, seductive soloist.

As the shoot came to an end, you couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you. You had conquered the camera, owning every moment with grace and style. And as you looked over at Jennie, her eyes shining with pride, you knew that you had done more than just take pictures – you had captured a moment of pure magic, a moment that would live on forever in the hearts and minds of those who witnessed it.

— — — — — —

After the photos from your Calvin Klein shoot were released, the response from fans was overwhelming, but in the best way possible. Rather than hate, there was an outpouring of love and admiration for you and Jennie. Your fans flooded social media with comments and messages, expressing their awe at the stunning images and the undeniable chemistry between you and Jennie.

As you scrolled through the countless messages on your phone, a wide grin spread across your face. It was incredible to see the positive impact your photos had on your fans, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for their unwavering support.

As the photos from your Calvin Klein shoot made their way onto social media, fan accounts dedicated to you and Jennie erupted with excitement. The images of the two of you, captured in intimate and sensual poses, quickly became the talk of the town, eliciting a flurry of reactions from your devoted followers.

@JenYoursTruly: "OMG, have you seen the latest pics of Y/N and Jennie for Calvin Klein? They look absolutely stunning together! 😍 #Yennie"

@YNNation: "Y'all, I think I've died and gone to heaven after seeing those photos of Y/N and Jennie. Can you say power couple? 🔥 #Yennie"

@JennieIsQueen: "Jennie and Y/N's chemistry is off the charts! These photos are everything we never knew we needed. #Yennie"

@YNNavy: "I'm convinced that Y/N and Jennie are the eighth wonder of the world after seeing those Calvin Klein pics. My heart can't handle this level of perfection. 💖 #Yennie"

@Jeniverse: "I swear, Y/N and Jennie are trying to kill us with their hotness. Those photos are pure fire! 🔥 #Yennie"

"Wow, look at this," you said, turning to Jennie as you showed her your phone. "Our fans are going crazy over these pictures."

Jennie leaned in to get a closer look, her eyes widening in amazement as she read through the comments. "I can't believe it," she said, her voice filled with awe. "They really love us, don't they?"

"They do," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "And can you blame them? We look pretty damn good together."

@YNNation: "Obsessed with Y/N and Jennie! They redefine couple goals with every photo and every moment they share together. #Yennie"

@Jeniverse: "Y/N and Jennie are the epitome of love and beauty. We stan this power couple forever! 💖 #Yennie"

@YJEnthusiasts: "Every time Y/N and Jennie grace us with their presence, we're reminded that true love exists. Here's to forever shipping #Yennie!"

@YJUniverse: "No words can describe the magic of Y/N and Jennie together. Their bond is unbreakable, and their love shines brighter than any star. 🌟 #Yennie"

@JenniesDarling: "Y/N and Jennie radiate love in every photo, every gesture, every smile. Their relationship is an inspiration to us all. 💕 #Yennie"

Jennie chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. "We do, don't we? I'm so glad we did this shoot together."

"Me too," you said, smiling as you leaned into her touch. "It was an unforgettable experience, and I'm so grateful we got to share it."

As the two of you basked in the glow of your success, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement for the future. With each passing day, your bond grew stronger, your love for each other deeper than ever before. And as you looked ahead to all the adventures that lay in store, you knew that together, you could conquer anything.

#blackpink x reader #blackpink #blackpink x fem reader #blackpink x you #blackpink x fem #blackpink scenarios #blackpink imagines #jennie x reader #Jennie #kim jennie #Kim Jennie x reader

319 notes · View notes

gortashs-skidmark · 13 days ago

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 - 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 - pt. 2

(𝘗𝘰𝘴𝘵-𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩!𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘟 𝘌𝘔𝘚!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝘖𝘯 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘬𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨-𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘌𝘔𝘚 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 '𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵' 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘛𝘶𝘭𝘱𝘢𝘳.

part 1

✩

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎-𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕, 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚗-𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚏. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍.

After that, it was out of your hands.

Months went by and you had to frequent your therapist more often than every two-weeks, like usual. The horror you'd experienced on the Tulpar was never topped in all your experience as an EMS. The case was opened, and you were questioned a bit by police about the state you found things in. You never heard the beginning of the end of the story you witnessed.

You checked online for any Pony Express cases being opened, but they were able to pay it off and keep it quiet. You didn't know any of that, you just waited. In your local town there were old missing posters for a young adult named 'Daisuke' who was last seen months and months ago by his parents. He went on a trip and never came back. You didn't want to think it was related, you hoped he was found and returned to his family.

You wondered if the man you found in the pod had recovered or kicked the bucket because of the severity of his injuries. Your therapist didn't want you spending time on these hypotheticals. A part of you couldn't help it. In all your career, you'd never spent this much time wondering about patients.

The only thing to take your mind off of your trauma, was skiing. Not you skiing, but spending time with family. The lodges weren't cheap and you kind of hated the attitudes of everyone who was a regular there. You sat in the public ski lounge sipping on a shitty (coffee order). Your family was out on the slopes and you waited here until it was time to get dinner. Cutthroat Kitchen played on the plasma tv screen.

You would occasionally look up and see Alton Brown giving another challenge. You were drawing on your tablet in the meanwhile, letting your pencil take its time making waves across the screen.

A large family had also settled into the lounge, getting somewhat on your nerves.

"𝐖𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭?" "𝐖𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐈'𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭."

Curly saw you. His family was making a fuss of who'd watch him while he was in the lounge. Really he felt he could be left alone in the lobby, but he was sure some lodge manager would patronize him for it. He sighed and hummed. You were too focused drawing, or too focused ignoring his loud family by looking like you were drawing. He wanted company, but watching the tv was fine too. They said they hadn't planned to be on the slopes all day but Curly doubted his mother's timing.

He used his tablet with eye-tracking ability to tell them who could watch him. The roman times font appeared on the screen, the words flipped and calculated his sentence.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫."

His family halted their squabbling and looked at you. You kept minding your business and had tuned them out long ago. You tested different pen strokes for the tree you were drawing. It was hell.

"𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦." his mom fussed.

They waited for a response, whispering among each other like he couldn't hear.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."

A large gasp came from his mom and she immediately dropped her annoyance and the group got much louder once again. His mother walked over to you and waved her hand in your face. Curly realized what he had just gotten you into.

𝘞𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴, he sighed.

"𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞!" you looked up, startled and flipped your tablet shut. You looked at her and behind her at her family. You stopped, looking at Curly. He'd grown back some hair, it was short and choppy. His skin was discolored but there were no scabs. He looked amazing. You recognized that blue eye anywhere. Months of therapy came undone.

He wore a puffy navy blue jacket over a terry maroon sweater. He wore heavy loose barrel jeans and a cowboy belt buckle around his hips. A beanie with a puffball at the end sat in his lap. There weren't any blood bandages on him. His eye socket had scarred over and left a valley of skin. He had a triangular hole where his nose was.

You looked at his mom,

"𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐈𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞? 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞?" she took your hands in hers. You were very uncomfortable.

"𝐈-𝐈. 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨." you looked at him. She gasped again and started to tear up. More of his family gathered around you.

"𝐎𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝." "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞?" "𝐖𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝!" "𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤." cousins, aunts, siblings, even his uncle's chihuahua was surrounding you.

They were overwhelmingly warm and bombarding your peace and quiet. This was supposed to be your escape.

"𝐌𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞'𝐬 (𝐲/𝐧). 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐛. 𝐈-𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡." You tried backing up but it was no use. You were surrounded by plush furniture you could sink into, what hell. You looked at Curly for help.

Curly had used his pad to speak, but they weren't listening.

"𝐔𝐡- 𝐡𝐞'𝐬 ��𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠." Their attention turned immediately but his mom was still sobbing on your shoulder.

"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬." He typed. You sighed.

"𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?" his dad asked you.

"𝐔𝐡. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩." you tried to back out of this and sit back down but his mother gripped you by the shoulders. You didn't think 'heroes' had to spend thousands in psychological recovery and act nonchalant. The situation was a big deal to you too after months. Heroes knew how to move onto the next person and live normal day to day. You felt less than normal. You helped him, you didn't save him.

"𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐮𝐬, 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐮𝐬." His mom choked out. You gently took her hands off of you. She held them close to her chest as she tried catching her breath.

Part of you sympathized with her. Her son left on his regular job, and came back mangled and suffering from 4th degree burns and some places even higher than that. They could've lost him, never to be seen again.

"𝐇𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞." you reasoned.

"𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞."

"𝐎𝐧?" you looked around, what was there to close, their family member was home safe now.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝."

"𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧." Imagining what actually happened left you sleepless. You're sure knowing what happened would leave something worse than a sleepless night.

"𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝."

"𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐩." you shrugged.

"𝐖-. 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐩 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐩? 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭?"

"𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥." you concluded and sat back down. Accenting your moves by flipping your tablet open and ducking your head down to draw again. His family grumbled to each other and waddled out in their puffy jackets, leaving Curly with you. They couldn't get it out of you. You were off duty and on vacation.

Curly watched you. He hoped he wasn't a burden himself. Or his family that was out of his control. You knew how it was, families. Your own was overwhelming enough doing literally anything around you. You wouldn't judge him based off of that. Right now, you are trying to get back into your happy place. Processing that interaction would take more than yourself to help you. At least your next session wouldn't be ridden with anxiety. You had something new to talk about.

"𝐇𝐢." Curly's automated voice spoke up.

You looked up and waved,

"𝐇𝐢. 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧." you weren't sure what to say. What could you say?

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐨. 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?"

You sighed "𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬."

"𝐌𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫." he joked.

You laughed. Curly felt his heart pound in his chest. You got up and sat closer to him near his wheelchair. You reminded him of Anya. A caretaker.

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮? 𝐇𝐨𝐰'𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. 𝐄𝐱𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡."

You were a bit confused but he looked busy with his tablet so you would wait for an explanation.

"𝐄𝐱𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐨-𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭."

"𝐀𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐡." you smiled. "𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬."

Curly thought about thanking you for that day. But in truth, he wish he died with it. The day he lost his crew was the day that he died with it in spirit. He had to find himself again. As much as he wanted to have more in life, he never expected to gain it like this. This was an entirely new beginning for him.

He hated it. The once young and respected captain who took responsibility for his crew, now was entirely a responsibility himself. He lived with family. They took him to appointments. His bank account was drained from medical bills and fitting new prosthetics. After the settlement between the accident with Pony Express, it was dubbed that he was the captain. And it was his fault.

The rules Pony Express had placed on their employees gave them no legal responsibilities over injuries unless the ship had exploded in on itself from a poor inspection. Then again, the mechanic was supposed to be able to fix it.

You showed Curly what you were drawing and explained the details behind your idea. When he looks at you, he goes back to that day you found him. It was miserable but you didn't baby him. You treated him like someone. Just like anyone else you'd save. He hadn't been treated that way since Anya died. Curly admired Anya for always trying her best.

The only problem was her tendency to take care of others because she didn't always know or feel like taking care of herself. He hated thinking about her. The guilt was immeasurable. He was captain, he should've taken responsibility. Jimmy was preventable. If Anya got hurt, or frankly anyone, the whole crew got docked credits. He wanted to prevent that knowing life wasn't good outside of trucking.

This was a hard life lesson. One he didn't share with anyone. But his psychiatrist.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬-" you were too busy zooming in and out of your canvas, pointing out what you where artist block was hitting you.

"𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞." Curly typed. It almost felt subconscious to him.

You looked at him. Your hands slowly drifted to your lap. Your smile disappeared and your heart dropped.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐈 ��𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐦." you looked into his blue eye and he was tearing up "𝐈 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲." you used your professional work voice. You weren't sure how to handle such a personal situation.

Curly realized that if he wanted you to stick around, maybe he shouldn't have said that. He thought maybe he'd feel a relief after saying it even if it hurt your feelings, but two wrongs don't make a right. He wanted you to stay. You're just some off-duty EMS he met once but you were the first connection in a long time that was familiar.

His family was familiar, but sometimes they acted differently around him. Like his condition was a secret. It was always about money and how to pay for surgeries he needed. He could talk to them, like the adult he was. They didn't want to place any more burdens on his shoulders, but it didn't help. Treating his feelings like glass menagerie.

"𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞." he choked out a sob.

"𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞. 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬." you shrugged.

"𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 𝐈𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫." there was silence. The background dampened in his ears with the thudding pulse he felt in his face.

"𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞." you smiled. You smiled. Genuinely. You shrugged his comment off. You think the only person who can help Curly is Curly, and his therapist. He can blame you, but at the end of that day, it's your job.

You've come to your own realizations throug out life. And sometimes you have to come to those same realizations again and again and again. Sanity is not something that sticks on and stays on. You wish you could dish what you served like advice. Because you didn't feel better either. After all these months. You wish the memories would go away.

Curly was capable of having a good life, like anyone else. He needed to realize that for himself. You couldn't force your advice on him, you doubt it'd make him feel better.

✩

𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑. 𝙾𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔. 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚐𝚢𝚖, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚍𝚘 𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚣𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚝. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

"𝗛𝗲𝘆."

"𝗛𝗲𝘆!"

"𝗜'𝗺 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗮𝘆."

"𝗢𝗵 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵!! 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗮𝗴𝗼. 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 :)"

"𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹."

It was short and curt. He was going in for a skin graph on his right calf. He's expressed his frustration with the skin graphs being rejected by his body. You debated on asking him if he wanted you to donate but you were covered in tattoos. Several worries went through your mind about this question. Was it too personal? Would he feel pitied by accident because he was struggling? Did he even like tattoos? What if the skin was rejected?

You sighed and shut off your phone. You had to switch shifts with the pilot on the shift. You pushed yourself out of bed and got dressed into your uniform. There was a part of yourself that told you to mute his messages for your own anxiety.

You were getting anxiously attached over a MAN.

𝘚𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵, (𝘺/𝘯). 𝘔𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘪𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵. You sighed and walked through the white halls to the clinic. Your coworker left the ship on auto-pilot while they took their break. The controls blinked rhythmically.

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...

✩

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎: 𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚕𝚢!! 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸'𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝙸'𝚖 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝!! 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚜 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚝.

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #mouthwashing fanfic #mouthwashing fic

58 notes · View notes