#like they were so good it gave me this insane fantastical hope in the american healthcare system
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
so since today is my day off and i didn't (key word here) have anything pressing until this afternoon, i was planning on taking the poodle puppy to the vet to get his annual shots. he's due and he's the only dog that actually goes anywhere where there are strange dogs because he needs to be groomed, so this is for the health and safety of all five dogs and the cat. my mom comes home from the hospital tomorrow, and i'm not sure when i'll be able to leave her alone to take him in, so today was perfect. except that some guy has to deliver oxygen today.
rant under the cut
now i need y'all to understand that my mother has NEVER needed oxygen. she didn't need it until last week when her allergies were so bad she woke up choking on mucus, and her oxygen levels dropped and scared the nurses so they put her on oxygen, and now they can't seem to be able to wean her off of it. mind you, apparently "weaning" to these people is taking her off of it entirely and then making her stand for like ten minutes. she's been in inpatient physical therapy for a week and a half because the fucking hospital didn't get her out of bed for two fucking weeks after her emergency surgery and now she can't fucking walk, and standing for long periods of time was already difficult for her because of her back before the hospital, so they might as well have had her running down the fucking hall. yeah okay that's fucking genius, she's been on oxygen for like four days nonstop and y'all decide that "weaning" means taking it off entirely and making her do something strenuous for her. awesome. y'all are fucking stupid as shit, but okay. so naturally, she couldn't breathe when they took her off it so the doctor decided she needs oxygen. cool.
so back to homie bringing the fucking oxygen today. me and my dad have to go pick up a rental car for tomorrow because, again, these people fucking broke my mom and now she can't get into the truck. we have to pick it up at five. "oh don't worry i'll be there in the morning!" my dear friends, it is 1:30 pm and he still isn't fucking here. i have been sitting here doing FUCK ALL since 9:30, WHEN I WAS PLANNING ON TAKING THE DOG TO THE VET THAT IS AN HOUR AWAY FROM MY HOUSE, waiting for Jimothy The Medical Supply Guy(tm) to bring oxygen my mother NEVER FUCKING NEEDED BEFORE THIS FUCKING ORDEAL. i have done NOTHING but stress out on my fucking day off from work because nobody on earth gives a single flying fuck about anybody but themselves. "oh we're here to make the lives of the family easier and more convenient!" my lily white fucking ass. if y'all hear a news story about a hospital in north texas [redacted] in the next week then expect a fucking hiatus i fucking guess (for legal reasons this is a joke...)
#she speaks#my misanthropy is at an all time high pals#seriously i'm looking into getting a consultation with a lawyer#this is the same hospital we took her to last year for the stomach ulcers and they were AMAZING#like they were so good it gave me this insane fantastical hope in the american healthcare system#but apparently the exemplary care was restricted to the brand spankin new building#because the old main hospital building was fucking awful#like seriously my mom went into the hospital walking and is coming out in a wheelchair#she had a small bowel resection not a fucking lower leg amputation what the actual fuck
6 notes
·
View notes
Note
So I have been reading your writing and I love it! I had an idea for a Tom Holland imagine! Basically the reader is about 5 years older than Tom and has been working on set with him for a while and Tom tries getting her to notice him. He gets frustrated after a few attempts and during a scene he has to stop and just blurts out his feelings.... idk a lot of angst and he kisses her so umm fluff? Do what you want with it just pls??? Thank you🖤🖤
Firstly, Thank you so much for requesting something, you have no idea how much this means to me. I hope I do you justice.
___
Pairing: Tom Holland x SetMakeupartist!Reader
Warnings: Fluff. Fluffffffff. Angst.
Summary: Above in the request
Request: Yes. A wonderous one. Very cute.
___
Thank you so much for trusting me with this idea and I'm so so SO sorry I only got to it now. I have no idea how that happend and I'm so sorry again.
___
Walking into set on Monday was supposed to be as fun, but also mundane as the the rest of the movie. Wrapping up yesterday was thankfully early, but you had to reset the rubble scene, after the building collapse. Spiderman has just confronted the Vulture and it's one of the most inspirational, moving and heart-warming scenes in the movie. Tom had done the scene brilliantly, but the director wasn't pleased with the angles and makeup, which meant the entire thing had to be reset. You weren't apposed to the fact, but it was irritating when you knew that today was meant to be one of the last scenes. Sighing and going to get some coffee, you cleared your head and planned for the makeup job today.
As you rounded the corner to the food section of the set, Tom popped up out of practically nowhere. "Hey Y/N!" You jumped back in shock and clutched your chest.
"Jesus Tom, I know you're Spiderman but that doesn't mean you should scare me like one." You say, somewhat out of breath. He chuckles nervously and scratches the back of his head. "Sorry about that love," He says as his face creses into one of sympathy. "Didn't mean to scare you." His soft British accent was always lovely. You chuckle and pat his shoulder, continuing to walk. "It's all good, you ready for the shoot today?" You question, checking to see if the kettle is boiled. Tom almost rushes to get the milk for you. You thought it was rather sweet of him. "Yeah, of course I am! With your makeup everything will look fantastic!" He tells you, overly enthusiastic. His attitude to the set and his frequent compliments were endearing.
"Thank you Tom, but you're the one acting. Watching the scene last time broke my heart. You did it beautifully." You set to making your coffee, adding the hot water and gesturing to see if Tom wanted anything, he raised his hand as a polite response of "No thank you," before his cheeks flushed. "I'm glad you liked it. Everyone on set does their job so well. I'm really excited to see how this is going to turn out." He smiles in an attempt to hide the red on his cheeks. You smile back and finish making your coffee, taking in a long sip and walking off with a small wave.
You settled in your makeup section and collected everything you needed for today. You had to do Tom's makeup for the building dust and rubble. Michaels hair and makeup. Costume design would have them first and then you. You had a little system when you worked, getting things set up, double checking your brushes and pallets and powders. It's why they hired you, you were the best they were going to get. You hummed a little tune to yourself and turned to find Tom standing next to your set of drawers. You give him a smile.
"What do you need Tommo?" you asked happily, going about your work. He tried to say something, seeming rather nervous before dropping his hand and sighing, walking away. You frown and go back to working.
The directors decided to finish up bits of other scenes before redoing the building collapse scene again. So you saw Tom here and there for makeup and he would joke around, make some light conversation, try to speak and then drop it. It was getting really strange and you weren't too sure what to think of it. Was he okay? Did something happen? You were going to ask him next time you saw him. It was worrying you. He was a really sweet guy and you had a slight crush on him, but you knew it would never happen, so you kept the relationship friendly and professional. That and you were five years older than him, you weren't sure what everyone would think of that.
Throughout different scenes or sections, Tom would call to get your attention and then do some kind of cool Gymnastics trick or tell a joke. He was so happy yet so weirdly quite. What was up with him today? You had to admit, that he was an incredibly talented young man. Age twenty one and he was staring in this movie, he starred in Civil War and would probably be staring in many more. His skills as an actor, performer and Gymnast were spectacular and you enjoyed watching all of his stunts. Sometimes you got the impression that he wanted to get you to notice him or be impressed with him, and you were, so you weren't sure why he kept getting frustrated at little things.
His mood inflated and deflated like a very bi-polar balloon and by the time everything was ready for the shoot, he was somehow rather irritated.
Tom was set underneath the 'Rubble', cute "homemade" suit adorned and the cameras were just about to roll. You stood off to the side, watching everything get the finishing touches before "Action." Was yelled and everyone fell silent.
All eyes were on Tom, his movements and every breath he took. Right now Spiderman was stuck underneath the rubble of a collapsed building and he needed to get out. He needed to believe in himself.
You could only imagine what must be going through his mind. Even though everything was fake, the idea was still horrifying. The moment was tense and only got worse when he suddenly blurted out: "Jesus Christ." In his American accent. Everyone faltered. "I'm sorry." He muttered to everyone before he called out: "Y/N!" The cameras cut and you were ushered over to the mound of rubble. "I'm sorry." He said again, his accent slipping. You crouched beside him and the rubble was moved for him to sit up on his knees. No one said anything and you focused on Tom instead of acknowledging the fact that everyone was watching you two. You breathed carefully, worried as to what could be wrong. Was he angry with you? Is so, why?
"Why do you keep apologising. What's wrong?" You say, a little too harshly.
"I want you to notice me." He says in a soft voice. "I just. I really really. Fuck why is this so hard." He curses to himself. Your knees were getting tired from crouching so you went to kneel like Tom was doing. "What is?" Someone asks from behind you two in a gruff voice.
"Admitting that I have feelings for Y/N." He blubbers out, gesturing to you and immediately feeling like an idiot. You were utterly taken aback. He had. Feelings? For you? Preposterous. Insane. Not possible.
"I'm sorry what?" You asked as politely as possible, watching him for any kind of movement. "I like you okay." He admitted, his tone hushed. "I think you are so talented and beautiful and I just. I want to be your boyfriend. I want to make you smile and laugh and feel happy and I didn't know how to say it. Since the movie started and-" he was cut off when he looked at your face. It was curled in an expression he wasn't sure of. Tension hung in the air like cigarette smoke on a cold day -almost visible, tangible.
"I'm sorry. Forget I said anything. Let's reset this and I." He stopped himself. "Y/N." You nodded. "You aren't upset with me are you?"
"Of course I'm upset with you." You spout out, a little annoyed but mostly elated. He looked shocked. "I like you too you moron." You say. The rest of the crew just looked at eachother, they thought that this should be a different movie.
"You. You what?" He asked back, disbelief written all over his features.
"You heard me Thomas." You say, almost playfully.
"You are amazing." He tells you breathlessly. "Can I kiss you?" Before he even finishes his sentence you grab him by the front of his suit and draw him into a kiss. He melts into it instantly and gasps are heard around you, but caring wasn't on the agenda.
Finally you two pulled away. "We'll discuss this after work okay?" You mutter softly. He nodded, biting his lip. The room went into little mutters and you walked back to your original position, out of the shot of the camera and near the directors.
"Took you two long enough to do that." One of them said, lounging back in their chair. You gave him a shocked look.
"Yeah, it was obvious." The other agreed. "Lets not make a habit of kissing in the middle of scenes though, yeah?" He offered. You flush a bright shade of red and nod, sharing a look with Tom.
Things were finally going to be very fun at work.
___
I'm sorry it was so short. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know!
#peter parker#tom holland#x reader#cute#fluff#peter parker fluff#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#tom holland on set#requests always open#request#movie studio#comment
67 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I read your fic “catch your drift” a while ago and I absolutely adored it! One thing that really stuck out to me was the way you really seemed to know what you were talking about, the amount of research you probably did was insane!
I was wondering, with a niche subject like that, how did you do your research for that? What kind of media did you watch/read to learn more about it? I’ve been thinking of writing a story like that myself, but I have no idea where to start. It’s writers like you that inspire me to put extra care into my stories, because it always shows at the end! You’re an amazing writer, I can’t wait to see what else you put out in the future <3
hi lovely! okay, first of all, I want to say thank you so much for enjoying cyd but also for noticing all the details!! I did do quite a bit of research (I fell down a rabbit hole, really) and it’s nice to know that it makes the world feel realistic/makes it seem that I knew what I was talking about 💕
for me, when it comes to doing research for subjects I’m not familiar with, I sort of have two overarching segments: 1) the technical details, and 2) the visual details. I’ll break down exactly what I mean by those, using examples from cyd (though I wrote the story over a year ago so I might miss some bits and pieces, hopefully it should help to give you an idea 🥰) (under a cut because WHOO did I go on for a bit) -
1) the technical details
I’m not a drift racer, so honestly, I did a lot of googling and digging around for things! my first stop was wikipedia, which gave me a general idea of what drifting was like/involved, and then I delved deeper from there (because it only really talks about the official drifting competitions, which is obviously different to an underground community). I found articles from car magazines that spoke about the underground tweaking/drifting community in south korea and japan, so I knew they were reputable sources (or that they at least knew what they were talking about!). that’s how I got my details on the types of car they use in that community, on what it’s like to be a drifter over there. I found websites that broke down drifting jargon so I had a dictionary to refer to. I also watched youtube videos of people who’d visited the underground meets, so I got a feel of what it was like/they would often talk about the specs of each car, which helped as well.
I remember I got details of the area around seoul/the main drifting areas from the articles I mentioned, but I also looked at a map and did some googling for areas that seemed to work for what I already had in mind (like the meet in yongsan, which has a US military base, hence why the driver there had a mustang - another american car).
stuff like this does take time to research but I like to write about subjects I enjoy/find interesting so it’s fun to read up on it!!
the reason why I think of these as the technical details is because they’re facts related to the subject I’m talking about (drifting/life in south korea/the car community there etc). it’s the nitty gritty stuff. not only do I try to find relevant terminology, I also try to read around the subject enough to know how that terminology is then used; if I’m not sure, then I avoid using it. (it’s sort of like in movies when you see someone playing a video game, and they’re using the wrong controller for the wrong console and the game on screen doesn’t match up with what the person is doing - it’s like you have all the relevant parts, but when you put them together, it’s clear that you don’t know what you’re talking about. you know? if in doubt, leave it out.)
the visual details are a bit different.
2) the visual details
this is a bit more of a vague thing and I might not describe it very well, but visual details are usually visual references/things that give me an idea of how to describe how something looks/feels, rather than the actual moving parts inside it. I’ve never watched fast and furious or need for speed, BUT I already knew that they existed, so I looked up videos of races in them for an idea of how everything looked/felt. (sort of related to the videos I mentioned above of the car meets, but, yes.) I also watched other drifting videos from competitions, and I looked up images/videos of the cars I mentioned in the story, so I could describe them in a way that would feel accessible but also interesting? for example the sentence “2007 Solstice GXP” probably doesn’t mean anything to someone who doesn’t know about cars, but if you then describe it being shorter than other cars and how it drifts around corners, that’s the focal point of the scene. it’s all in the visual description vs the technical name. a visual detail is immediately accessible because you’re describing what someone can see, which doesn’t require any foreknowledge of the subject.
obviously a lot of this will vary dependant on what your personal style is like, but if I drop in specific terminology that I think a reader might not know, I’ll then explain it, too. so it’s mixing the visual with the technical. here’s an example: “he throws you off when he slings himself out of a turn and slides into a choku-dori, the zig-zagging motion of his car catching you off guard” - choku-dori is the name of a specific drifting move, but I don’t expect people to know that, which is why I then describe the zig-zagging motion; it relates a visual detail (accessible) to a technical one (probably not as accessible).
(pinterest can be fantastic for reference pictures, dependent on your topic. I’ll save visual references for quick refs if I find ones I like!)
so, for me, with any subject, it’s about researching what you need to know about the topic you’re writing about, and researching how to then make it come across in your story in a way that’s interesting, and accessible, and makes sense. honestly, a lot of my research is googling, and reading, and learning key terms from that reading, which then means I can research more effectively, which is an ongoing cycle for each story I have going on. sometimes you’ll do far more research than comes up in the final product, but it’s better to have too much than not enough! I know it can feel daunting to start with, coming at a subject that you might not know anything about, but for the most part googling things is enough to trick people into thinking you’re an expert 🤭 (although if there are any drifting experts out there who are laughing at my newbie slip ups or whatever then I apologise and also you will be forever cooler than me 🤧)
one other source of references which I think might not occur to people is other fanfic. obviously don’t plagiarise, but if you wanted to write a drifting story, you could use places/terminology/cars from catch your drift as a springboard for your own research, for example! (you said you’ve been thinking about “writing a story like that” and if you mean a drifting one, feel free to drop me another message because I’ve still saved a bunch of the links I used to reference from! I didn’t save all of them bc I’m a clown but I have at least enough to give you an idea of what it’s like ✨)
I hope that made sense!! and if you need me to clarify something or explain it in a way that’s not garbled and rambly, honestly please drop into my inbox any time! good luck!
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
California Vacation (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]
Title: California Vacation Rating: Explicit Length: 4100 Warnings: Fluff and Smut (cock warming, modified doggy style) Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in late May 1998. Outfit inspo here. Summary: Reader and Javier take a well deserved vacation.
@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt @seeking-a-great–perhaps
This was the life.
Top down convertible, hair loose in the breeze, Javier’s hand on your thigh as he drove along the coast. It was perfect — like something out of the movies. You could take a hundred pictures and still not quite capture the way you felt.
And sure, you missed the girls, but you had both desperately needed a little time away from everything. After the way the DEA story had landed, you both needed to get the fuck out of there for awhile. Without the kids.
Connie had initially suggested Mexico — Cabo, to be specific. But how the hell could either of you sit on a resort beach and not think about the cartels just beyond the American tourists? The DEA was the last thing either of you wanted to think about.
You reached down and rested your hand over Javier’s on your thigh, slotting your fingers in between his, you ran your thumb over the side of his hand. “I can’t get over how gorgeous this place is.”
Javier tilted his head, grinning at you as he caught your eyes. “Then you fit right in with the scenery, baby.”
“Drive.” You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand.
He chuckled, running his hand down your leg, “What?”
You bit down on your bottom lip, winding your fingers through your hair as it whipped around you in the wind. There wasn’t a bad view to be found here.
Javier looked good on vacation. Even after only one night in California — which was mostly spent dealing with jetlag at the hotel — he already seemed relaxed. And relaxation suited him.
You reached over and played with the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips drew upwards with an easy smirk as he tilted his head to look at you, “Enjoying the scenery?”
“Very much.” You grinned. Even after all these years, Javi still managed to let loose butterflies in your stomach. The way he made you feel hadn’t dissipated.
The winery the concierge at the hotel had recommended was still partially under construction — but the tasting room and vineyards were open to the public. It was insanely gorgeous, to say the least. The Castle, as it was referred to, was an ornate mansion fashioned after the French Normandy style — and there was nothing like this in Florida. In fact, it looked like something you had seen on Travels in Europe with Rick Steves.
Not that you and Javier curled on the sofa on Sunday afternoons and watched travel shows on PBS. One day, you’d manage an honest to God trip beyond the realms of North and South America.
Javier walked around the convertible to open the door for you, “Ever the gentleman.” You teased as you took his hand and stepped out of the car. You leaned over the side of the car, grabbing your purse and situating the strap across your body. “Shit, this place is insane.” You remarked as you interlaced your fingers with his.
“When they’re done with all the landscaping, this is going to be one hell of a destination.” He remarked, gesturing to the upturned soil along the pathway where they’d clearly recently put down seed.
“I think they’re set to open next summer — officially.” You explained, shielding your eyes as you took in the scenery. “I think we might have to come back.”
He shrugged a shoulder, “We could make it a yearly trip.”
“Hopefully we don’t have a reason to escape every year.”
“You don’t think a nice post-semester getaway — just the two of us — sounds like a fantastic plan, baby?” He questioned with an easy smirk as he released his hold on your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in so he could steal a kiss.
You pursed your lips as you pulled back, reaching up to ruffle the hair that fell against his forehead as you considered his suggestion. “I could be tempted.” You grinned at him and leaned in to kiss him again, before you escaped his grasp. “Come on, the tasting starts at noon.”
Javier pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and followed after you up the pathway. “In all my life, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place like this.” He remarked as he took your hand again. “I’m feeling underdressed.”
You snorted, “You look fine, Javi.” Your eyes raked over him — dark denim jeans and a short sleeve linen button up suited him. “Better than fine if I were the judge.”
There were already several other couples and groups waiting in the tasting room when you both arrived. They offered tastes of their 1994 Estate Merlot, before ushering everyone onto a tour of the winery and the vineyard. You had never really made a study of winemaking practices and you actually found the whole thing rather fascinating.
“The day is still young,” You remarked as you leaned against the side of the convertible, arms folded across your chest as Javier came to lean against the car beside you. “We could go to the beach.”
Javier glanced at his watch, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “I think Bodega Bay’s probably an hour from here.” He nodded his head in agreement. “You got the map?”
“Am I not the trusty navigator?” You teased as you moved to stand in front of him. “We can eat dinner there and then head back for cocktails at the inn.” You suggested, resting your hands on his shoulders as you leaned in to kiss him.
He rested a hand at the small of your back, as the other gently cupped your cheek.
“Newlyweds?” Someone questioned, interrupting the moment.
Your brows furrowed together as you turned your attention towards the woman who had spoken, “Excuse me?”
“I have a keen eye. It’s easy to spot a pair of newlyweds.” The older woman stated, smiling between the two of you. “Are you on your honeymoon?”
Javier chuckled, raking his fingers through his hair as he gave your hip a squeeze. “Sorry to disappoint, ma’am, but we are neither married nor on our honeymoon.”
You stifled a quiet laugh, by the woman’s flummoxed expression.
“Really?” She clasped her hands together, “I could’ve sworn that was the case.”
“We’ve essentially been together for almost eleven years.” You admitted, your fingers curling around Javier’s as you took his hand. “I guess it’s nice to know we give off honeymoon vibes.”
“I’m the wedding planner for the estate,” The woman offered, extending her hand as an introduction. “Sheila Wise.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” You said politely. “The grounds are going to be beautiful when things are finalized.” You gestured back towards the mansion. “I can see the appeal of getting married here.”
“Are you local?”
Javier shook his head, “Florida.”
“Well, welcome to California. Are you staying nearby?”
“We’re staying in Sonoma at an Inn for a few nights,” You explained, leaning against Javier. “We just got in last night actually.”
“You two must be awfully jet lagged.”
Javier chuckled, scratching at his jaw, “It’s no worse than having a newborn. You got any recommendations? We’re in Sonoma until Tuesday and then heading to the coast mid-week.”
“And then San Francisco,” You added. “We fly back out next week.”
“You should drive down to Armstrong,” She suggested. “You’re less than an hour away and with the weather today, the forest is going to look beautiful.” Sheila looked between the two of you. “Oh, you two really are just a lovely couple.”
You blushed, “Thank you.”
“We were actually considering driving down to Bodega Bay,” Javier reminded you, squeezing your hand. “You wanna hit the Redwoods today?”
You shrugged, “I’m easy. We are staying at the coast later this week.”
“Alright, baby, let’s go look at trees.” He winked at you, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand before he turned back to Sheila. “Thanks for the recommendation. We might be back next year to see the progress.”
“Do you mind taking a picture for us?” You questioned, releasing your hold on Javier’s hand and leaning into the car to grab your camera from where you’d stowed it under the seat.
“Of course!” Sheila took the camera from you, gesturing for the two of you to pose.
You cupped the side of Javier’s jaw, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as he grinned at the camera. You didn’t have nearly enough pictures of the two of you together. She took a second shot with you leaning against him, his arm curled around your waist.
“I hope you have a wonderful visit,” She said warmly as she passed the camera back to you.
“She is a remarkably spritely old woman,” You remarked once she was out of earshot and you were settled into the car, sorting out a route on the map that would get you to the state park.
“Hope you’re that spritely when you get old like me,” Javier quipped with a smirk, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into the front of his shirt. He stifled a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes.
“Wanna go back to the hotel?” You questioned, leaning over to play your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “We can go poke around the plaza in town. Find somewhere to eat.” You brushed your knuckles against his cheek as he turned to look at you. “This is supposed to be relaxing, not exhausting” You reminded him.
“Gotta reserve some energy for tonight, right?” He remarked, tracing his tongue over the edge of his teeth as he met your gaze.
“You mean since we fell asleep last night?” You quipped, giving his leg a pat. “We can sit on the patio and crack into the bottle we bought.” You bit down on your bottom lip as you met his eyes, “And then we can have fun.”
Javier leaned over and kissed you, “I’m looking forward to it.” He brushed his nose against yours before starting the car up.
————
“Why didn’t we settle in California instead of Florida?” You questioned, setting aside your menu as you looked across the table at Javier. “It’s not as hot as hell like Miami is.” You shook your head. “This is the right way to dine al fresco.”
Javier took a sip of his wine and sank back in his seat, looking quite relaxed as he looked around the bustling downtown plaza area. “You know what the best thing is?”
“What?”
“We don’t have to worry about people recognizing us.” He rubbed at the side of his neck. “Yeah, it was national news, but everyone knows we’re in Miami.”
You sighed heavily and shrugged your shoulders, “It was a lot.” Dealing with the back and forth in the newspaper had been emotionally fatiguing. “I don’t know what I expected, honestly. I just wanted it out there. You know?”
“Yeah,” Javier nodded, rocking his jaw. “I don’t regret it. It needed to be done.”
You nudged his foot beneath the table, “I know everything coming out like it did wasn’t ideal. But it’s not like either of us have ever pretended to be someone that we’re not.”
“It was pretty fucking clear the DEA had some idea about who they thought I was.”
A faint smile cracked at the corner of your lips, “Everyone’s wrong about you, but… I think we cleared that up.”
Javier snorted, “On the front page in black and white. I still wish Vickers had given us a fucking heads-up.” He made a face, “That was the most uncomfortable class of my life.”
You laughed, reaching for your wine. “Did they think they’d break us?”
He gestured vaguely with his hands, “Probably. I mean the whole thing blew up in their faces. Painted me out to be a saint and threw a half dozen of their guys under the bus.”
“It opened up a whole new scandal,” You pointed out. “I’m kinda glad the whole thing took the pressure off us. Elena is a saint.”
“We should get her something,” Javier suggested. “Think Hallmark has a card for that?”
You tapped your finger against your lips thoughtfully, “We should write in with the suggestion.”
Javier leaned forward and took your free hand into his, “Dear Hallmark,” He began, barely keeping a straight face. “Please write a greeting card for when you need to thank a hooker you slept with nearly a decade ago for orchestrating the mass confessional of Colombia’s finest.”
Your head tilted back as you laughed, “Please put that in your autobiography. “
He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “It’ll be in there.”
The waiter came then to take your orders. Javier ordered a fancy sounding Tortellini Alfredo with prosciutto, while you opted for the Eggplant Lasagna. Despite dinner and wine being more than enough, you both managed to share a serving of tiramisu before walking back to your hotel.
“Do you miss the kids?” Javier questioned as he stepped out onto the balcony with the bottle of wine you’d purchased at the winery.
“A smidge.” You admitted to him as you pulled your robe around your shoulders, relaxing into your seat. “Monica assured me that she’d call if there was any trouble.” You scooted your glass across the table for him to fill it. “And she hasn’t called.”
“I suppose that’s reassuring,” Javier’s gaze flickered to your face as he filled your glass, pushing it back towards you. “You buy that just for the trip?”
You nodded your head with a smirk. “I figured we needed a little treat.” You smoothed your fingers over the satin ruffled sleeve of the dusty rose robe. “And I don’t actually have any robes.” You brought your glass to your lips and took a sip.
Javier chuckled, “It’s a good look on you.” He remarked, picking up his glass and taking a sip as he stepped around behind you, his eyes turning towards the horizon. “Hell of a view.”
“The mountains are gorgeous. They’re so different from the ones I grew up with.” You reached up and rested your fingers over his hand at your shoulder. “I’m guessing hiking is off the agenda?”
He gave your shoulder a squeeze as he walked around and sat down in the chair across from you, “Who do you think I am?”
You snorted, “Alright, alright.” You took another sip of wine before you rose to your feet and moved around to sit on his lap. “Better?”
“Much better,” Javier assured you, resting his hand at your hip as he sat his wine glass aside. “Did you have fun today?”
“I did,” You said with a nod as you slipped at your wine. “That winery was gorgeous. Can you imagine living in a house like that?”
“Makes our house feel like an apartment.”
“Right?” You sat your glass down on the table next to his, shifting in his lap to face him. “Did you have fun?”
“Of course I did, baby. I spent the day with you.”
“Ugh, gross.” You scrunched up your nose, but kissed him nonetheless. You nipped at his bottom lip, fingers cupping his jaw as you sank into the kiss. “Sometimes you say the corniest shit.”
“You bring that out of me. You’ve only got yourself to blame, baby.” He told you, rubbing his hand down the top of your thigh where the robe fell against your skin.
You scraped your nails gently down the back of his neck, fingers toying with the soft hair there, before you dragged them through his hair. “Oh, it’s my fault you make dad jokes?”
“Well, who made me a father?”
“Me. Twice.” You rolled your eyes. “I must be crazy or something for facilitating your descent into dad jokes.” You tugged at his hair.
Javier played with the tie of your robe, loosening it just enough for him to slide a hand inside, his fingers playing against your bare side. “You like my corny jokes. Don’t lie.”
“I never lie.” You traced your finger down his nose. “Back in Colombia, you were definitely funnier than Murphy.”
“Only way to keep sane.”
“Seriously,” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I think Josie is going to have our brand of humor. She’s already so sassy.”
“She’s all you.” Javier tilted his head and stole a kiss. “Sofía — I’m not sure about.”
“She’s grumpy, just like her father.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss to his lips before you moved to slide out of his lap. You snatched up both glasses of wine and moved towards the doorway back into your room.
Javier had loosened your robe enough so that it fell open completely as you stood in the threshold. Beneath the robe was a pair of satin shorts and soft bralet that matched, both edged with white lace. And given the look on his face — he was thrilled with the choice.”
“Like what you see?”
“Goddamn, baby. Sometimes I think you’re intentionally trying to give me a heart attack.” He remarked as he slid the balcony door closed behind him. He sat the half-drunk bottle of wine aside as he kicked off his shoes, “You look fucking incredible.”
Even still he managed to make your cheeks warm. You finished off your glass of wine, before setting his down on the nightstand. “I thought you might enjoy this.” You remarked as you let the robe slide off your arms and pool by your feet. “I might have another one saved for when we get to Sam Francisco.”
“You spoil me, baby.” Javier ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Holy shit.”
You perched on the side of the bed, trailing your fingers along your collarbone as you watched him undress. He slowly worked the buttons of his linen shirt loose, before tossing it aside carelessly. “Come here, Javi.” You requested, spreading your legs as he approached you.
Javier laid you back on the bed, draping himself over you as his lips claimed your mouth. One of your legs curled around his hips, grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. You could feel the hard line of the zipper pressing against you and you sought friction from it. The satin fabric cling slickly to your cunt, the satin darkening there as your arousal grew.
Fuck. The man knew how to kiss. Lips hungry against yours as his tongue plundered you like you wished his cock would. God — you were aching. Wine always managed to make you horny.
You tugged at his hair, desire spark through you at the groan that left his mouth from the gesture. “You like that, Javi?” You taunted. “Our lives might’ve been printed on the front page, but there are so many things only I know about you.”
Javier grinned down at you, “To the grave, baby.”
“To the grave.” You repeated as he dipped back down to kiss you again. You worked your hand in between your bodies, fingers desperately working to get his jeans off.
He took a step back, undoing his belt before he shoved his pants down his hips and kicked them off. Your eyes flickered downwards to his erection, clearly straining in his boxers. “I feel like I should invest in satin.” You teased, “You seem to really enjoy it.”
Javier rolled his eyes, “Fuck you.”
“Wish you would.” You retorted with a smirk, running a hand down your torso, before playing your fingers over the soaked crotch of the satin. You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a sound as you circled your clit through the fabric. “Javi.
“Middle of the bed, on your stomach.” Javier told you, his eyes snapping to your face. You wanted to taunt him, to drag this out longer — but the flint of control in his eyes made your stomach flip with desire.
You complied, putting a little sway in your ass as you crawled onto the bed and laid down flat on your stomach in the center of the bed.
Javier moved to join you, the bed dipping under his weight as he moved to straddle your upper thighs. He ran his hand down the center of your back, a tender touch that came in sharp contrast with the sudden slap he delivered to your left ass cheek. You jerked, grabbing the sheets as you cried out in surprise.
“Baby, was it too much?” He questioned, rubbing the cheek he’d just injured. “Shit—“
“It’s good. Very good.” You assured him.
“You know your safe word, baby.”
“I do. And I don’t plan on using it.” You countered, wiggling beneath his weight. “Don’t tease, Jav—“
You muffled the next cry of pleasure against your pillow as he delivered a second slap to your right cheek. It was probably wrong just how much you enjoyed it. The pain that merged into pleasure.
“You’re fucking soaked, baby. Fuck, look at this perfect pussy.” He drawled out as he dragged his fingers through your slick folds. The touch was just teasing at first, gathering up your arousal and smearing it all over his fingers.
You lifted your hips towards him, desperate for more. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt his fingers tease at your slick center — working one and then two fingers into you. The angle was perfect, making two fingers feel tight within you. A precursor to what you were desperate for.
Javier worked his fingers in and out of you, dragging them right over that sweet spot without ever giving it his full attention. You could feel the pleasure coursing through your veins, but it was never enough to push you over the edge.
You moaned into the comforter, as he kept his fingers within you and stroked them over that sweet spot. That pleasure causes you to be caught off guard as his free hand landed against your bare asscheek.
“Fuck. You clenched so tight around my fingers, baby. Think you’re ready for me cock?”
You flipped him off in response, amused by the low rumble of laughter that escaped him. Javier slid his fingers from your cunt and replaced the with his cock.
He fed it into you slowly, sinking inch after inch into you until you squirmed beneath him. The angle was incredible. You could feel every inch of his cock stretching you.
Javier palmed at your ass, gripping them tightly as he worked his cock in and out of you. Every forward thrust had him hitting that sweet spot within you, your body so ready to come for him.
He stretched out above you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stayed seated within you. Javier took your hands into his, keeping them pinned to the bed beside your hands. “That’s it, baby. Be a good girl and stay still for me.”
You drew in a shaky breath, the roughness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Keep it right there.” He ordered you, releasing one hand so he could curl it loosely around your throat. He wasn’t trying to leave a mark, they’d be too hard to hide in dresses and bathing suits.
“Are you just going to stay like this?” You questioned, grinding back against him as you clenched around his length.
Javier squeezed your hand, “Is there a problem with that?” He questioned, bucking his hips forward, “Just stay still, baby.” He soothed, dragging his fingers down the column of your throat. “You feel so good like this.”
It did feel good. You could feel every inch of him buried within your cunt and the weight of him crushing you into the mattress was a relished sensation. It felt like every part of him was pressed against you.
He released your throat, brushing your hair aside as his lips hovered by your ear, “I want you to come for me, baby. Can you do that for me?”
You swallowed thickly, “Like this?” He nodded, kissing your shoulder. “Javi.” You begged, clenching around him again.
His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip tightening as he started rocking into you, a slow and steady thrust — one where he barely pulled out before he was pressed back into you.
You shifted beneath him, grinding back against his every move. “Fuck!” You gasped, feeling your body flutter around his cock. “Goddammit, Javi.” You urged.
“Do you want me to stop, baby?” He questioned, his hand moving to give your hip a reassuring squeeze. “What do you want, baby?”
“I don’t want you to stop.” You told him hastily. “I just want you to fuck me. Please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” Javier pulled away from you, sitting back on his knees — using the angle to drive into you again and again.
This was what you had wanted. Javier pounding you into the mattress until you forgot what your name was. Javier fucking you until all you could was come around his cock as he spilled into you.
It was the best way to start vacation.
117 notes
·
View notes
Text
Face Turn - Heel Turn
Well that was silly to write as a title
ANYWAY now that I’m done humiliating myself on the internet how about we just move on to the next chapter of that fic
Now featuring the most fantastical element of this entire fic: How well the wrestlers are treated by their employer
AO3 link as usual and let’s get going
Amity Arena, the headquarters of Remnant Wrestling… something or other. Weiss had to admit that she didn’t much care about whatever overly complicated name they gave this company. As long as the contract didn’t include any dumb shit she didn’t care how they managed to contrive the “R.W.B.Y.” acronym.
As for the place itself, it looked surprisingly clean and organized. From the clips Jaune showed her the backstage area always looked messy and dirty, so they either cleaned it up for her or that part too was completely fake.
The office they were invited to, on the other hand, was covered wall to wall in pictures, posters, souvenirs, and just random knick knacks, all framing the older man in the middle.
“Miss Schnee. Mister Arc,” he greeted with a smile, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“Ozpin, sir,” Jaune replied awkwardly as they took their seats. He sat to her left so she knew exactly who would be in her blindspot. She was quietly grateful for that gesture, “the pleasure is all ours.”
Weiss disagreed.
“So you’re the one running this circus?”
She heard a chair skidding to her left as Jaune nearly jumped up, apologies already spilling out of his mouth, but Ozpin simply laughed at her comment.
“Oh no need to apologize, Mr Arc,” he said with a smile, “a circus is but a collection of skilled performers joined in the purpose of entertainment, and for that I’m honored to be their ringmaster.”
It took a lot from Weiss not to scoff at that.
“Now don’t be worried, Ms Schnee,” he assured her, “I have no plans on giving you the role of the clown. I know better than to insult a consummate professional with such a proposition.”
Weiss sighed, “then what do you want from me exactly? I’m not signing anything until I know you won’t humiliate me in front of countless people.”
“Of course, here at R.W.B.Y. we prioritize the mental well being of our performers far above any of our ongoing plotlines. You would have complete freedom to veto any unwanted plot beats as you work with our team of esteemed writers.”
She nodded. This arrangement was certainly better than she expected, but something not being the worst didn’t make it good.
“As for your starting role,” he continued, “you would be a Face, our term for hero, one of the good guys. Your role may change with time of course, but I think this would suit you well for starters.”
“So do I just get in the ring and punch people in the name of truth, justice and the american dream?” She asked, trying to see if there was any way of mocking this farce that would make him show any emotion other than ‘passive understanding’.
“If you so desire,” was his response.
She studied the man for a moment, trying to find that manipulative hint that nearly everyone seemed to have around her. Finding that had been one of the few things Jacques ever taught her, not on purpose mind you, but she still learned it through continuous exposure to the despicable man.
It was only when she found nothing that she allowed herself to respond.
“Alright,” she took a deep breath, “looks like you have yourself a new star.”
Ozpin smiled brightly and Jaune let out a breath he had probably been holding since the moment Weiss opened her mouth.
Everything else was handled simply and cleanly. Weiss was given an unreasonably long contract to read through, which she tried to thoroughly - another of Jacques accidental lessons - but she had only made a few pages in before her head started hurting from the eye strain.
Jaune took it from there.
A week later, with everything else handled, Weiss sat down with one of those ‘esteemed writers’ to discuss her big intro. Said writer was a woman by the name of Blake Belladonna.
Blake seemed to take her job very seriously, regardless of the absurdity of it all, and had a calm air of professionalism to her. Weiss could appreciate that. Though her ideas were a bit too fantastical for her at first, after some back and forth, the final product did manage to please the both of them.
She was to be a white knight, recovered from her injuries, returned to the field of battle, unburdened by her scars, and ready to fight once more. It was completely absurd when she put it like that, but so was just about everything else happening in that damn ring.
In practice this just meant that she was gonna come in, do some silly speeches about inspiring hope, win a few matches, and see where they would take things from there. It was a simple and easy plan. What could possibly go wrong?
The answer was apparently, Weiss’s temper.
Things had gone smooth at first. Sure, her heart hadn’t really been into it, but she didn’t expect it to be, and people seemed to buy it anyways. She was the big MMA star returning to the ring once more to kick some ass, and they were loving every second of it. Weiss on the other hand, felt miserable.
Fighting used to be so freeing for her before. It was the one thing she had that was out of reach of her father, that she did for herself and no one else. Somehow it was only when she was put in the cage that she truly felt free.
Not anymore.
Now the ring just felt like a different prison, a different stage for her to perform on. It wasn’t hers anymore, it was everyone else’s. She tried to focus on work anyway, she tried to keep the show going, but at some point it became too grating for her.
She was meant to start this friendly rivalry with this Yang Xiao Long lady. They were going to be very competitive with each other while both claiming they were the best of the best, and in the end they would work together in a tag team match in a show of the true power of friendship or something of the sorts.
It was halfway through her first promo that she realized that she couldn’t keep that act going or she was gonna go insane. Ozpin said she had the power to veto stuff she didn’t like, so it was time to put that power to good use.
She took a deep breath, held that microphone like she was gonna snap it in half, and let her old fierceness come out to play.
“Actually, screw this!” she started, at least having the decency to not swear on live television, “I don’t care if she thinks she’s the greatest around. I don’t care if any of you think she’s the greatest!”
The crowd grew silent as she caught them by surprise. Good.
“None of you have ever even seen a real fight!” She accused, “you really think any show off with a pretty smile is somehow a real fighter? She spent more time naming her moves than she spends training.”
That’s when it started. The booing. She had to admit, she liked that sound.
“You want a real fight? You wanna watch me put that show off in her place?” She challenged and someone in the crowd actually cheered this time, “then sit down and watch, because she’s only gonna be the first!”
She expected to be scolded when she returned backstage, maybe even have her contract threatened, but instead she was met by a very amused Blake.
“You know, that’s gonna be a pain in the ass to salvage if you wanna keep the baby face act,” she commented.
“Don’t even try it,” she responded, walking past her, “let them be angry.”
“Good,” Weiss couldn’t see her face, but she could hear the grin in her voice, “you make a far better heel anyway.”
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Very Kingfield Christmas
Read it on AO3 here.
Summary: Dwight and David are both working at the mall during the horrendous holiday season. They sometimes keep each other company to make the job more tolerable. Dwight wants to move forward in their relationship but can he get into the Christmas spirit to pull it all together?
Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual sex occurs.
Notes: My first DbD fic was supposed to be either Megdette or Dwake because those are my favorite ships. However, I came up with a clever Kingfield Christmas idea and Christmas week also happens to be Kingfield week. Fate had taken the wheel from me on this one. I hope it's alright because I haven't written any fics in years. Enjoy!
It was finally time. After four hours of pain and suffering, the moment Dwight had been waiting for had assuredly arrived, his legally mandated 30-minute lunch break. It was two o’ clock in the afternoon, late for lunch but a perfect time for a break as it was exactly in the middle of his shift. His Job? He played the role of “Mr. Elf” in the fantastical production of daily life many would call “being an assistant for a mall Santa.” He served this noble part-time cause all for the glorious reward of eight dollars an hour.
Dwight quickly rushed past the employee-only doors and headed to the punch out machine. Once upon a time, this wouldn’t be such a nerve-wracking experience but now lunch brought the opportunity to talk to a certain someone. He had recently started a relationship of sorts with a fellow employee, a British fellow by the name of David King. That is, if you considered getting fucked in a car within one of the mall’s many parking lots a relationship. He was currently trying to upgrade to getting fucked in a bedroom at the bare minimum. A man can dream, can’t he?
Sometimes the two would be able to chat as they eat, but other times David’s schedule just didn’t line up perfectly with his. Dwight always took his break at the same time every day, so it was really up to David to reciprocate. He had finished giving his precious time data and fingerprint to the punch out machine, rounded the corner, and there he was. David sat in a cheap foldable chair at plastic table, eyes on his phone for a moment but then he looked up and nodded to Dwight.
David’s dark red uniform consisting of a billed cap, button-up top, and cargo pants could use an ironing, but Dwight really had no room to talk. His own uniform had him trapped in itchy elf ears, an even itchier sweater, and a pair of pantaloons over leggings he had to thrift because he ripped the original pair. The worst part was the bells attached to the pantaloons, which jingled with every step he took towards the fridge. He grabbed his lunch box out of the fridge and plopped down on the chair across from David. Within Dwight lunchbox was a ham and cheese sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie, a bag of cheesy chips, and a water bottle. David on the other hand, had nothing but a beige-colored protein shake.
“You arrest any shoplifters today, mister mall cop?”
“You know I’m not a damn mall cop-“
“You’re a supervisor contracted out by a security company that works with the mall.” Dwight placed his chin in his palm and his elbow on the table, attempting to lean his body towards his companion. David crossed his arms, sharing a performative pout as he reclined back in his chair.
“And no, I didn’t arrest anyone. Even if I wanted to, I can only observe and report. They don’t even give me handcuffs!”
David did not have handcuffs at the ready, he tossed that fantasy out of mind. Dwight and David enjoyed the faux verbal jousting and it always quickly led to complaining about their jobs. Sometimes it was nice to have a routine, especially during the chaos of the holiday season. After all, nothing united coworkers quite like shit-talking a job with the risk that their boss may potentially be within earshot.
“Today, a girl who had to be at least eighteen threw herself onto Bill’s lap and started yelling about wanting a new gaming rig. I had to pry her off of him while her friends laughed at us. I thought the old man was gonna break his hip.”
“Customers act like Christmas is open season to being an asshole to us. I hoped maybe Americans would be different but they’re just as wild as back home this time of year.”
There was a pause between the two as David gulped down a long sip of his protein shake. Dwight seized the moment to rip a bite out of his sandwich, it had grown soggy after sitting for hours in the poorly maintained refrigerator. It was then that he realized that he knew nothing about English life and learning more could be a way to get closer to David.
“What is Christmas like in England?”
“Well, when you’re a kid. You don’t send your letters to Santa off to the post. You burn it in the fire.”
“That’s insane. How is it supposed to get to the North Pole?”
“I don’t know! The same way Santa’s fat-ass slides down the chimney. It’s all stupid magic that parents makeup. We also got this thing called a Christmas cracker.”
“Oooh, sounds yummy.”
“It’s not a snack. It’s a present you pull on both ends and it cracks open. Usually has a paper crown and other trinkets inside.” While David spoke, he pantomimed the act of tugging on the ends of this so-called cracker and then wiggled his fingers to represent the explosive crack. A smarmy grin creeped across his lips, “Of course, Christmas really gets interesting once you can get piss drunk.”
“C’mon, we do that here in the States too.”
“No, I mean really drunk. Parents will even leave out brandy and a mince pie for Santa too.”
“Wow, I couldn’t imagine being like ‘Okay Junior, we have to make sure Santa can get wasted tonight.’ Sounds wild.”
The two briefly chuckled for a moment. David consumed another gulp of his shake; Dwight shoved a handful of cheesy chips in his mouth. The two sat in silence for another moment, the only sound the crunching of said chips.
“Do Americans eat chipolatas on Christmas?”
“I have no idea what that is.”
“It’s a sausage, for Christmas we wrap it in bacon.”
“That sounds fucking incredible.”
“One thing I see here that I wish more folks did back home is all these fairy light. Americans love to have a show of things.”
“Oh, I have my apartment decorated like that.” This was silly little lie. Dwight was too busy working one and a half jobs to adorn his dwelling in accordance with any festivities. The poor fool could barely clean his bedroom once a month. He would be willing to make time to decorate if the glow of Christmas evening were enough to attract David.
“Well, I’d be delighted to see your flat. What’s it like?”
“It’s… Cozy.” This was not a lie so much, since ‘cozy’ was basically the millennial code word for ‘tiny studio apartment.’ Dwight gulped and could feel a line of sweat drip down from his hairline. This was the pivotal moment he had been anticipating every time he punched out for lunch. He just needed to work up the courage to make the move. “I’m free this weekend if you want to come by. I’ll have eggnog and we can watch a movie… If you want, that is.”
“I’m free Saturday after eight. That good for you?”
“Sure!” Dwight accidentally spoke with a little too much enthusiasm and the realization made his cheeks redden a little. He averted his gaze from David and looked down to his mediocre sandwich. The two continued to enjoy their meals, and each other’s company, for a brief moment until they were interrupted by an alarm on David’s phone. The Brit returned his protein shake to the refrigerator and gave a parting salute.
“See you when I see you.”
“Have fun supervising.”
He couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across his face as David exited the break room. He really pulled it off. Now he had to sacrifice what precious free time he possessed to pull off an exterior and interior decoration job. He could pull the whole operation off in the next three days, right? Did Dwight have what it takes to make this Christmas merry? Not really, but he can damn well try.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fools Rush In... X
characters — yoongi x reader (ft. members of bts and other original characters)
summary — min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.
inspiration — fools rush in (1997 rom-com starring salma hayek and matthew perry)
information — a drabble series loosely based on the 1997 movie fools rush in. drabbles not posted in any linear order and written as a creative writing outlet.
warnings — mentions of sex work; age-difference; light sugar daddy themes; smut; light angst (specifically in parts V & VI).
I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI
X — photograph (ft. namjoon & taehyung)
Yoongi fucked up.
See, he never really thought of himself as a jealous person. He couldn’t be bothered to confront his ex-wife on her cheating, nor did he do anything about the men who fawned over his ex-girlfriend after her ballet performances. He was far more worried about his music career, his business ventures, and his future than he was about the other men trying to bed the women he was attached to. Hell, he hardly even thought of himself as attached to those women; but you changed that. You make the flames of jealousy engulf his heart in a way he was never prepared for and he hates himself for it.
He knows that he should just trust you more; knows that when you meet Kim Taehyung and lean into the art curator with wide eyes, you are only doing so to be polite. You are not actually attracted to the younger man, you don’t actually find his demeanor charming, and you don’t actually believe that his custom painted Birth of Venus Doc Martens are the coolest shoes you have ever seen—you are just being nice, in spite of what your words and actions portray.
Or at least, that is how Yoongi has chosen to rationalize the scene in his mind so he doesn’t go insane on the gallery floor. He almost lost it completely when you walked away with Taehyung to go view a mixed media piece more closely, but a quick reminder of all the business associates around him (former, present, and future) quickly set him straight again.
“This is hilarious,” Namjoon comments casually, slipping a glass of champagne into Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi says nothing, eyes still solely trained on the way your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around Taehyung’s bicep as you laugh at something he says. Now that it is front and center, Yoongi has never been more thankful for your insistence that he buy you a ring. “I didn’t know our Taehyung was so funny.”
“Be quiet,” Yoongi snaps back quickly, because nothing that has ever come out of Taehyung’s mouth has been that funny.
“You are the one that said she needed more frien—”
“Not men,” Yoongi cuts his friend off, “and not Kim Taehyung.”
“Sounds sexist.”
“So be it.”
“I never knew you to be a jealous person.”
“It’s Kim Taehyung.”
“And?”
“You know how he is.”
“Wow, you really are jealous.”
Yoongi can only offer up a grunt. It was hard enough for him to accept your friendship with notorious flirt Park Jimin—the Wednesday afternoon lunches still bothering him more than they should, in spite of the continuously observed innocence of them. At least Jimin was mostly harmless; the same could not be said for Taehyung. The artist’s penchant for sleeping with married women was a well known fact in their social circle. The fact that you weren’t openly disgusted by his antics only caused Yoongi more discomfort. How could you not see that he was disingenuous?
“Do you want me to send Hana in there to stop it?” Namjoon asks, but he just shakes his head. You were still uncomfortable with Namjoon’s wife and her interference would only make things worse.
Suddenly, you turn your head and point to Yoongi with a bright smile, waving quickly when you make eye contact with him. Taehyung watches the small interaction with a smirk on his face, leaning in to whisper something in your ear that has you readily agreeing.
“Here comes trouble,” Namjoon murmurs quietly, putting on a delighted face as you and Taehyung begin to make your way over. Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to fake pleasantries like Namjoon, though he did feel a small wave of calm wash over him as you thread your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder and whispering a small “hi” in his ear.
“Well hello again, old friends,” Taehyung starts, deep voice the very definition of cool. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your conversation.”
“Not at all,” Namjoon responds for them both.
“I’m actually over here to ask you a question,” he says, staring at Yoongi. You let out a small laugh in his ear, unintentionally setting off warning signals that whatever Taehyung was about to say was not going to be good.
“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi states dryly.
“Well I personally think your lovely wife would be a fantastic addition to the project I’m currently working on, but she seems to think I need to run it by you firs—”
“Correction,” You cut him off, though in a tone that is much more gentle than Yoongi thinks Taehyung should be afforded. “I told him that you would have to approve of it and that I didn’t think you would. He thinks you can be convinced.”
Yoongi shifts to look at you more clearly, a single eyebrow raising in question. The last time you properly asked him for permission to do anything was when he first gave you his American credit card; you hesitantly called him while you were at work, standing outside of the club if the background noise was anything to go by. “The straps on my favorite pair of pleasers broke… can I use your card to buy a new pair—”
“Buy whatever you want,” he responded.
“They can get kind of expensive, though.”
“Baby, I don’t even know what pleasers are. I gave you that card for a reason. Pay your rent, buy some lunch, buy the whole club if you want to.”
“I don’t want the club, I want shoes,” you had said with a laugh.
“Just shoes? Hell, buy 5 pairs. Don’t ask my permission for silly shit.” So you took that statement as law, never asking his permission for anything again—until now.
“I think we can all appreciate the female form,” Taehyung said with a slight smirk, his eyes raking up and down your body just subtly enough that Yoongi would appear crazy for commenting on it. “My new project aims to highlight the beauty of the natural female form against the destructive forces of our world—floods, wildfires, pollution, and the like.”
“Interesting,” Namjoon remarks quietly, tone even enough to appear as though he has no dog in this fight. However, they all know there is a reason Taehyung isn’t asking Namjoon’s wife to appear in such a project. “But based on our good friend’s hesitancy, there seems to be a catch. I can’t let my friends enter into bad contracts. What exactly would she be doing?” Taehyung’s smile is full blown now, eyes lighting up as he begins to describe his idea in detail; and while it takes a good three minutes for him to get through the entire concept, Yoongi only hears three things clearly: pole dancing, nude, and fire.
“Absolutely not,” Yoongi almost barks out, finding it hard to control himself at the thought of Taehyung seeing you completely nude. It didn’t matter to him that more men than he could count had seen you naked countless times before; those men weren’t Taehyung. He would rather die than let Taehyung anywhere near you nude. He barely liked him near you clothed.
“If it’s the fire you’re worried about, I promise I would keep her absolutely safe. I would never damage such beautiful art.” His words make Yoongi want to vomit. You and Namjoon laugh.
“No offense to your… art,” Yoongi states through gritted teeth. “But, I married her so that she wouldn’t dance for anyone else.” The statement wasn’t entirely untrue; while Yoongi didn’t have too much of a negative opinion on your dancing, you knew marrying him meant you had to stop. Therefore, you were confident in knowing exactly how he would react to such a request.
“Oh, well that’s unfortunate,” Taehyung murmurs specifically to you, a light frown on his face. “I was really looking forward to spending time with you on this project. I guess it’s just not in the cards for us at this moment. Perhaps another time?”
“Mm, perhaps.” You answer, a gentle smile on your face.
“Perfect. Oh, my darling I see some old friends I must say hello to. If you would excuse me,” Taehyung states with a quick bow to you before walking away.
You wait until he is out of earshot to mutter darkly, “What a creep.” Namjoon laughs out loud at your words, patting Yoongi on the back in a joyous manner.
“You have a good one.” Namjoon states. “Do you know how much he was freaking out over here?”
“I could see him.” You say, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, causing him to grunt. “You know, you make a really funny face when you’re jealous. It’s kind of hilarious.”
“Stay away from Kim Taehyung,” he finds himself ordering.
You lean your head onto his shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”
#bts scenarios#bts drabbles#suga scenarios#suga drabbles#yoongi scenarios#yoongi drabbles#min yoongi scenarios#min yoongi drabbles#min yoongi#suga#AU: Fools Rush In#sailor belle writes#taehyung drabbles#namjoon drabbles
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'd LOVE to read more Archer x Rogerina!!❤ Don't have any specific requests so maybe just something from one of the prompts you have? And I agree, I don't care what Joe's in as long as I get to see more from him!!!
Omg thank you for asking for Archer x Rogerina because I do have something to share that I couldn’t quite fit into the ongoing narrative! So this is not based on a prompt, but since Trip The Light Fantastic is told in Ben’s POV, as I was working on Joe’s character, I wrote his version of that night. And here it is:
I catch you looking back at me, looking through a cloud of steam
Archer x Rogerina AU, Joe’s POV
Right before senior year began, Joe had just broken up with his then-girlfriend who was cheating on him with a mutual friend for almost as long as they were together. That was enough to put him off any kind of relationships for a while. Besides, he thought he’d give being completely and truly single, a try. He kind of miss the sex and occasional cuddling, not that he’s particularly the cuddling type, but it’s nice to have a warm someone in bed and not wake up cold and alone sometimes. But to compare that with the kind of serenity and peace he has now and the headaches he saved, he’d rather keep being single, thank you. He has more time than ever now to read and write and drive by himself, and he has even started dancing regularly again.
And then there’s the Halloween party at the Maleks’. It’s the kind of party that all seniors go to, many juniors get invited to, and selected few sophomores could get in by miracle, and freshman could only dream of going. Maybe next year, or the year after. The host of such a party is always that one kid in the senior year who is filthy rich and you’re lucky if he isn’t an asshole who also buys his way through college. Well Joe sure is lucky. That kid, or those kids, because there are two of them, are his childhood best friends, Rami and Sami, whose father is a rich Egyptian-American business tycoon who moved to New York and built himself a business empire working closely with the Arabs and their oil in the 80s.
It was last year that Rami told him he has his eyes on a certain London girl who is majoring in arts together with Joe, who is in her sophomore year. Her name is Lucy. Of course Joe knows her. Joe knows everyone. It comes with being occasionally recognized as that kid from Jurassic Park, and every time one of his professors brought up the fact we have someone in the class who is here on the personal recommendation of Steven Spielberg, he would slowly slide down his seat a little, hoping the remark would remain just a remark, and it would be forgotten by the end of the class. Sometimes it works exactly like how he wants it to be, sometimes it doesn’t. Either way, it earns him a reputation that he plays down and many friends, no, a large group of people he socializes with regularly. So he is some kind of a popular kid too, although a somewhat reluctant one.
The Maleks’ mansion is pretty much his second home, and he was in his element that night, having accepted Lucy’s dare to show up in a girl’s character costume, and she even volunteered to do his make up, on one condition; no glitter involved. She did manage to put on something metallic-hued on his eyelids though, because he looked in the mirror and his eyes sparkled subtly whenever he blinks. Lucy had shrugged it off and told him, it wouldn’t be too noticeable, the house would be dim and there would be light strobes instead of actual lighting.
Lucy smiled up at him as she gave his make up, her handiwork, its last touch. “My goodness, you’re beautiful,” she marvelled. “Don’t make me change my mind, Luce,” he warned her. “No, don’t!” Lucy protested hurriedly. “No, no, no. Now let’s go.” But not before she stopped one last time to take a selfie with Joe, no, the Archer.
His Archer costume was a hit, apparently. But he made it very clear that he’s there just to enjoy the company of himself. And dance like mad, which was great because he had gotten back at it and been practicing for a while now. And that’s when he saw Rogerina. One sulky Rogerina who was drinking beer alone and trying not to look like he’s staring when he pretty obviously was doing exactly that. Joe thought that they look kind of wildly different, him and Rogerina who has a more muscular build and moody-boyish look. He even stood with his legs apart, chugging his beer with one hand on his hip, not even trying to appear feminine. But even across the room, Joe could feel his eyes on him, and they’re crazy-intense. He didn’t even know how to describe it, but he had never been stared at like that since he was five and sitting in an audition for Stanley Kubrick.
He thought about it, but Rogerina obviously isn’t one of the people he knows, because he knows everyone here. Almost. Let’s find out who you are, Rogerina, he thought as one of his favourite songs came on, and he danced to it with an added flair, his moves all smooth and pronounced. Rogerina kept staring even as he made his way to Rami and Lucy. Lucy asked him if he’s murdering people on the dancefloor, and he just laughed it off. He headed to the kitchen to retrieve some rum he knew is kept somewhere safe and away from casual partygoers, half-hoping Rogerina would follow him there. And he wasn’t disappointed. Well he had to talk with Chace first, and the first thing Chace said to him was, “Hey there gorgeous.”
“Asshole.” He laughed him off, because he knew Chace well. He’s always trying to get into someone’s pants, gorgeous girls or boys alike. They’ve fooled around before, but decided it’s better to remain friends as they are now. They talked shop and laughed, but from the corner of his eyes he could see Rogerina approaching the kitchen. He had never wanted a friend to disappear so fast before. And he’s glad when Chace decided to go looking for pretty girls at the pool.
The masked hesitation he could sense in Rogerina’s voice as he said hi to him was cute, to say the least. When was the last time he had been chased after like this? He was so determined too. He told him he came looking for a light for his cigarette. Classic excuse. He has a deep voice, British accent, and a very boyish smile. Definitely not a senior, maybe not even from the same department. He’d have remembered someone like him. Joe found himself looking into green eyes as Rogerina stepped closer to him to light up his cigarette from the mini kitchen lighter he was holding. He smelled nice, with a faint hint of aftershave. He wondered if he’d taste like beer and cigarette and something entirely different or surprising.
Mint, Joe thought later as they began kissing and he’s savouring the blonde’s lips. The cigarette he lit up earlier must be his first, as the taste was very faint, and it soon disappeared. The bitterness of malt and mint on his tongue fits right in with the Coke and rum sweetness on his own.
Rogerina kissed him like he meant it, like the persistence by which he went after him to the kitchen, which found him pressing the sides of his knees on Rogerina’s hips, and that’s when he found the lighter innocently tucked in the side pocket of his skirt. He wasn’t even surprised, but he was absolutely delighted at the thought of this green-eyed British boy going after him and cooking up a lie to flirt with him. Makes him want to give him exactly what he wanted, and set him on fire while doing so. So he kissed him deeper, tongue all the way in, a hand in hair and another on his back, gripping him through the white shirt. He pushed himself forward and closer, so Rogerina could touch more of his exposed thigh. There’s growing heat at the base of his guts, and he slid even closer to give friction to it, and that’s when he realized they’re both hard.
Holy shit, he thought, and almost immediately wanted, no, needed more of this delicious friction. They’re separated by layers of fabrics, but fuck if this doesn’t feel so good, kissing a boy indecently in an open space, pushing and rubbing against each other fully clothed while the sound of the party droned on in the near distance. There’s no way this would not look exactly like what it was, and the thought of anyone potentially walking in on them is an incredible turn-on.
But Joe did pull away from Rogerina, mainly because he did not actually want anyone to walk in on them, and he needed to at least get a name. “Ben,” he told him in between breaths, eyes still transfixed on his lips. He looked like he was dazed and drunk, or somewhere in between. They were kissing again in no time, and when Joe deliberately pushed himself against Ben as he slid down the kitchen counter, they both moaned loudly into the kiss, and he almost lost his mind a little. They’re fast becoming like magnets, one gravitating to the other as soon as they pull away. He wanted to get his hands everywhere on Ben, wanted to touch him, kiss him, make him moan his name. They were strangers barely ten minutes ago, it’s so fucking insane, but there’s nothing else he’d want more right now than this green-eyed Brit in Rogerina costume. But not just yet.
So he smiled sweetly to him when he asked him nicely if he’d want to get out of the party with him, and he thought there’s no way he’d say no to that. They were kissing slower now, heartbeat calmer, desire kept in check. He held his hand close, making sure he wouldn’t change his mind. Something’s telling him he needed to do this right. This isn’t just a party hook-up, a fooling around kind of fun.
That same something’s also telling him he’s hooked, and it felt headier and sweeter than anything he’d drank tonight.
So when they did get out of the party, not before he caught Rami for the barest seconds to say goodbye, surprisingly without Lucy by his side, he decided they’re not going immediately to his place. He still has Ben’s hand in his, and he’s looking at him and smiling with his lucid green eyes and Joe wondered if it felt a little bit more than just infatuation or hormones. He thought about how ridiculous it was to think of it as anything more than what it was, but it lingered on long after.
#hardzello#hardzzello#archer x rogerina#joe mazzello x ben hardy#joe x ben#all the aus#ask#answer#trip the light fantastic#writing#joe mazzello#rogerina#ben hardy#ao3#extras#character study
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cordonian Wags
Part 21
In a world full of Professional footballers and their demanding wives- can their football team nicknamed the ‘Cordonian Apples’ succeed? An American female physiotherapist joins the club. Will this cause issues with the footballers wives?
*This series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*
Warnings: Abuse, Swearing.
Tags: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @desiree-0816
******
Xavier walked into the lounge area, not understanding the change of heart from Riley.
“I just need to nip next door. Make yourself at home.” Riley explained as she turned the kettle on.
“Why?” Wondering if she was using this as an excuse and was actually going to run away from him after he had gone through faking his death. Riley walked towards the door, he noticed her phone and purse was near him- if she was going to run she would have taken them he believed.
“Mrs Jones, my neighbour- she invited me over for something to eat. I’ll just explain that I have a visitor and will have to postpone it.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“NO! I mean, she’s not very good with strangers. She has dementia, she likes familiarity. I’ll be thirty seconds tops.” Riley ran out of the front door, hoping he wouldn’t follow her. Leaving her phone, he decided to read through her messages- knowing it was wrong and that he was hurting himself doing this, he wanted to know how Drake spoke to her. What made her attracted him. Realising that Drake spoke to her with respect, showed her love, admired her- made him fully regret how he treat her. I’m sorry Drake, but I need my wife back, he thought as he text Drake then blocked the number before deleting the evidence.
*****
Knocking on the door, Riley had hoped that Mrs Jones wasn’t having her usual siesta. The knocking became more frantic, I’ve been more than thirty seconds- he’s going to come for me.
“Riley? Are you okay?”
“Mrs Jones. I’m in danger. My ex husband has shown up. I’m keeping him in my house- I don’t want to let him out of my sight. If he leaves, it won’t be long until he comes back to hurt me or others. I need you to contact Lindsey now, tell her to get on a flight as soon as possible. Keep an eye out on the house. I will keep all lights on, I will text you the word “okay” every half hour. Do not reply. If you see anything suspicious or I don’t text you... call the police as soon as possible. I need him in prison, if he has any inkling that I am against him or that the police are on their way he will go on the run and I won’t be able to live my life without always looking behind my shoulder. Don’t worry about me. Just please contact my sister.”
Before Mrs Jones could reply, Riley ran back to the house. Scrutinising through her phone book, she found Lindsey’s number and rung her immediately.
******
Drake broke down crying in front of everyone, they all wondered what had happened. He was upbeat about his future with Riley, and was now an emotional wreck. Helping himself to a bottle of whiskey from Liam’s liquor cabinet, he downed it in one. Bastien pulled him to one side- Drake fell into his embrace unable to control his emotions.
“Drake? What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
“It’s.... Riley.... she doesn’t.... want to be... with me anymore. She’s not coming... back... she’s leaving New York.... I’ve lost her.... we’ve lost her....” Passing bastien his phone, reading the text it seemed suspicious. He knew his niece, she would never say something so serious over a text or phone call.
“Drake, I’m going to get the next flight to New York. She loves you, her head is probably all over the place.”
“Bastien it’s fine. You’re needed here. I don’t deserve to be happy, I just want her to be happy. If that isn’t with me, then so be it. I’m going to go up to the spare room, I need a minute to myself.” Walking in a trance to the room, he couldn’t help but look at the screensaver on his phone. Wondering what he had done so wrong for her to abruptly end their relationship. Taking his grandmothers ring out of the box, he held it - maybe I was destined to be with someone like Kiara, to be a doormat, in a loveless marriage? I’m sorry grandma, but looks like your ring will be covered in dust for the foreseeable future.
Lindsey excused herself from everyone after feeling her phone vibrate- Mrs Jones? What the hell has gone off?
“Hello, Mrs Jones what’s the matter?”
“Lindsey... it’s Riley... she’s in danger. She needs you here. She said to not mention it anyone else, but you need to get here as soon as possible. Her ex husband is here.”
“Mrs Jones, I don’t mean to be disrespectful but have you taken your tablets today? Her husband died.”
“No he’s here. She was frantic. She insisted on keeping him locked in the house until you arrived- I wanted to call the police but she said she needed to keep him on her side and that she wanted to get him behind bars. Lindsey just get here as soon as possible.”
“Shit! Sorry. I’m on my way. I swear to god if he kills her.... I’m bringing someone with me. Thank you and see you soon.” Hanging up, she panicked- how the fuck can he be announced dead when he’s alive?
“Liv. Can you come to New York with me now. Don’t tell the men. I don’t want to worry Drake...” Explaining to Olivia what was said on the phone, Olivia was furious with Riley, even more so with Xavier.
“Liam, we are going to New York to bring Riley back. Don’t tell Drake. I love you.”
“Why are you going now?” Olivia was thankful that the men were intoxicated, if not he would be persistent asking questions as to why the two of them were doing a moonlight flit.
“No time to explain. I’ll contact you when we arrive.”
****
Xavier jumped as Riley walked back through the door, she was longer than she said she was going to be- but he was going to ignore it, not wanting to push her away.
“Sorry I took longer, she’s really forgetful at the moment.” Lying she hoped he would accept it.
“Don’t worry. I understand. I made you a coffee.”
“Thank you. So. How are you here if you are dead?”
“Constantine told me you was moving back here, only returning for match days.....”
Constantine drove to Xavier’s house, not knowing how he would react to his plan. After Xavier had left him before, he insisted that he would sort his flights out.
“Are you packed?”
“Yes. Have you sorted my flight out?” Constantine handed him the boarding passes as well as new passport.
“John Taylor?”
“I have a feeling that the rest of the club will follow you there. I stupidly suggested that you was visiting your family- but Riley will know the truth. We need to fake your death.”
“If I’m dead, I’ve lost my job. I’ve lost Riley for good.”
“If you’re dead, no one will suspect that Riley is with you. You need to win her heart again. I have paid someone to drive your car, and someone to chase that car. They are going to steal Leo’s Ferrari. What the person who is driving your car doesn’t realise is that they will die tonight. So you better make this worth my while. I will confirm that it is your body. Here’s a new phone. I love you son.”
“And here I am. I’ve given everything up for you. I love you. Tell me how I can convince you to give us another shot.”
“Xavier, I will never be able to forgive you. Maybe in time, we can be friends?”
“I slept with Kiara before she left. I wanted to get back at you and Drake. I paid her to cause trouble between the two of you. I regret all that, but I was desperate to get you back.” Deciding to be honest, he believed it would gain a bit of trust.
“You slept with Kiara? You two are made for each other.” She wasn’t jealous one bit, in a way she had hoped that the two psychos would have continued their one night stand.
“She isn’t you. I didn’t feel anything.”
“Just like all the others then?” Holding her hands, he needed to prove that he was the man she once fell in love with.
“Yes just like the others, that’s in the past. We can start a fresh.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“What?”
“I’m pregnant, with Drakes baby. I found out today. He is my future.” Lying she hoped he would forget about reigniting their relationship.
“That’s great news Ri. You’ll make a fantastic Mom.” That was unexpected.
“I can be it’s father, a second chance for us both. Drake doesn’t have to know. We can move away.”
“Are you insane? I don’t want anything to do with you!”
“You are mine. We will be family again.”
“No!” Grabbing her wrists tightly, she knew he wouldn’t be sincere for long.
“You’re hurting me!” Letting go immediately, he placed a kiss on each wrist. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
“It’s fine. But please don’t hurt my baby.”
Checking her phone discreetly, she text Mrs Jones and deleted the text.
“What you doing?”
“Erm, just checking the time.”
“There’s a clock on the wall.”
“Today’s technology eh?”
“How about I take you out?” Public place, waste as much time as possible.
“Okay, I’ll get showered and ready.”
“No need, you are fine as you are.”
*****
Walking out of the house, Mrs Jones was watching out of the window- Riley waved and nodded. Lindsey had contacted her informing her that she would be in New York soon- the two women had managed to catch a flight shortly after leaving Olivia’s house. Arriving at the restaurant, they ordered food. Xavier became drunk quickly.
“So what does Walker have that I don’t?”
“A good heart. He loves me. I love him.”
“I can try and be like that. Teach me to be like him.”
“You can’t teach someone to be like someone else. I gave you so many chances, and I gave up.”
“Damn it Riley! We are both footballers, we both have brown hair, brown eyes. I can be him. I can be a father to your baby.”
“We will talk about this when you drop me off home.”
“Drop you off home? I thought I could stay.”
“Well I suppose you could, but you have to calm this anger down.” Xavier promised, Riley not so convinced. Counting down the minutes- she went to the bathroom to research incoming flights. Due in six hours if she is on that flight, can I last that long with him?
Arriving back at Riley’s, he kissed her- if she was going to react he decided to blame it on the booze. Five and half hours. “Xavier, please don’t.”
“I’m sorry. I just want you to be mine again.”
“How about you go up to the bedroom? Wait for me. I’ll go in the shower.” Xavier smirked, he had hope that he was going to make love to his ex wife again. Nodding his head, he immediately stripped off his clothes. Locking the door behind her, the more time she could waste in the bathroom the quicker Lindsey would be there. Texting Mrs Jones again, she left her phone unoccupied. Xavier wondered what was taking her so long, thinking she was pampering herself for just him- she asked me to wait in the bathroom, she wouldn’t say that if she didn’t want me back. Going downstairs for a drink of water, he noticed her phone on the table. Intrigued to see if anyone had contacted her, he unlocked the phone. Incoming flights to New York. That bitch!
Storming upstairs, he knocked on the bathroom door. “Riley baby. How long are you going to be?”
“Not long. I just... I just need to make sure that I’m ready for you.” Cringing as she said this, she had already planned to force herself to sleep once she exited the shower.
“Don’t keep me waiting too long.” I’m claiming you as mine. Whoever you are expecting to turn up- won’t be here for long.
Coming out of the bathroom, she noticed that he was naked- faking a smile, she was hoping that he would be happy with just a goodnight hug. Four and a half hours. Sliding into bed, she said goodnight as she turned to the opposite direction. Laying on his side, he placed his arm around her- deep down she wanted to remove it immediately. Instead she just kept thinking about Drake, her Drake- wishing he was with her instead. Xavier slowly thrust against her- she could feel his erect penis, grimacing she wished the next few hours would fly by. “Xavier, I’m tired. Maybe tomorrow?” Knowing that with the support of her sister, he wouldn’t be here tomorrow. “I want you now. I’m going to make you mine again.”
“No Xavier. Please.” Pulling her hair forcefully back, he had a tight grip.
“No one says no to me Riley, especially after they’ve lied. Care to tell me who is coming from Cordonia?”
“N-no one. I haven’t spoken to anyone since you arrived. Please I don’t want sex with you.”
“Tough. You will be my wife again. That baby will be ours.”
“No! I divorced you for a reason. Leave me alone or I will call the police!”
“What are they going to do with a dead man? You’re a slut Riley, I gave you the opportunity to have a family with me. Do as I tell you or the old Xavier will return.”
*****
Lindsey and Olivia arrived in New York, hailing a cab- Lindsey was too frantic to drive. Arriving at the house, Lindsey knocked on Mrs Jones’s door- as she did, she received a text. Not okay, call the police!
Lindsey grabbed Olivia, and knocked the door down- not giving a shit at how much it would cost to replace.
“Riley! Ri! Where are you?” Running around the house, she was nowhere to be seen. Becoming more panic stricken, Olivia attempted to calm her down.
“Help!” Following the voice, they ran down the cellar.
“Xavier? Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” The two women looked at Riley, both furious. Seeing her blindfolded and tied up beaten black and blue- they were furious that she didn’t immediately call the police. On a closer inspection, Olivia noticed that Riley was surrounded by a puddle of blood.
“What the fuck has he done to you?”
“Liv?”
“Riley... I’m sorry we took so long, we came as soon as we could. Why the fuck wouldn’t you get help?” Kneeling down next to her sister, Lindsey felt guilty. If she didn’t suggest selling their childhood home, Riley wouldn’t have come to New York, and Xavier would still be ‘alive’ and still be the manager of the club. Removing the blindfold and untying her, they witnessed fear in her eyes.
“I.. I don’t know... he’s on the run. I stupidly thought ... if I kept him here... when you arrived... that... we could call the cops then. I kept texting Mrs Jones..... then I checked for flights... he must have looked at my phone....”
“Where is the bastard?” Olivia saw Riley and Lindsey’s eyes widen.
“Hello, Mrs Rhys. I’m not a bastard, I’m your brother in law.”
“No! My ‘brother in law’ died. Technically you was half brother in law. Arsehole. What you going to do? Hurt me too?” Xavier laughed. “No, Riley’s learnt her lesson now. She understands that we are meant to be together. Isn’t that right darling? We are going to be a family, she’s pregnant.” Olivia turned around to face the sisters, her mind working overtime about how to get them all out safe.
“I think we should go Lindsey.”
“Are you fucking crazy? I’m not leaving my sister!” Pulling the dagger out of her bra, she mouthed trust me to them. “Maybe I am crazy. But I think Xavier, should pick up his girl and see that she is okay? Come with me Lindsey. Well go on then Xavier.” Xavier nodded, Lindsey provided him with dagger eyes as he knelt down, kissing Riley on the forehead. Throwing her arms around him, Riley forced a kiss on his lips. Keeping the kiss linger, she soon felt him fall into her- with the lack of energy she had, she pushed him off her. Unable to contain the shaking, Lindsey ran over to her, holding her tightly- comforting her.
“I always told Liam, it is a good idea to carry daggers around with me. That bastard won’t hurt you anymore.” The three women all held each other, Lindsey thanked Olivia - for not only saving her sister but potentially them all. “Riley are you really pregnant? Because all the blood you are surrounded in, is concerning me. You do know that bastard text Drake, dumping him?”
“No. I just said that - hoping he wouldn’t hurt me. How wrong was I? Thank you Liv. For everything. It doesn’t surprise me. Drake didn’t believe it did he? I can’t lose him.” Before she could respond, they heard heavy footsteps coming down the cellar stairs.
“POLICE! PUT ALL WEAPONS DOWN!”
“About fucking time!” Olivia explained to the police that she stole ‘his’ dagger off him as he was attacking Riley. The police seemed to believe the story.
“We need medical assistance as soon as possible. Woman in her twenties, badly beaten- surrounded by blood from possible rape.”
*****
The day after Olivia killed Xavier, Riley was still in hospital- flashbacks of the night roamed in her mind. Olivia sat by her bedside with her, whilst Lindsey cleaned the house. There was a knock at the door, Olivia smiled- letting go of Riley’s hand, she stood up exiting the room, patting the visitor on the shoulder.
“I’m so angry with you right now. Why would you put yourself in danger?” Holding her hand to his lips, he regretted not forcing himself to follow his gut instincts.
“I love you so much, I could have lost you. I’m so sorry. Please come back to Cordonia, I’ll buy us a new house. We can buy one here, and in Cordonia. You’re safe now. I’m not letting you out of my sight, unless you’re with Olivia that is. You are my future Riley.” Fluttering her eyes open, she smelt his scent- believing she was hallucinating.
“D-Drake?”
“Ri, are you okay?”
“Don’t. Please. I brought this on myself.”
“Maybe a little. But I still care about you. I’d be heartbroken if I lost you.”
“Marshmallow. I don’t deserve you. Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m never leaving you. I love you too much to leave you. We planned a future together remember.” Kissing her on the lips, he had missed her. “I want you to move in with me Ri. So I can look after you and protect you. What do you say?”
“Erm. About that future we planned. There’s something I need to tell you...”
#trr#trr fan fic#trr choices#drake x riley#drake x mc#olivia nevrakis#liam rhys#leo rhys#trr bastien#bertrand beaumont#trr au cordonian wags#cordonian wags lindsey
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Second character in my arsenal and he goes by the name of Blake. I should probably preface this by saying I do not watch him in Chicago PD, I just think he’s attractive as hell and definitely fits the cop bill - which of course is why I use him, just read his bio to see to what extent. I’d absolutely love any plots for him that you can think of, so hit me up and we can chat about it. Even if one specific one isn’t coming to mind i’m sure the both of us could come up with something! I’ll try not to ramble so much in his bio but can’t make promises, I have a hard time stopping once I get going! Alright, no more wasting time, under the cuts what you’re looking for!
Did I just see JESSE LEE SOFFER walking on the beach? Nevermind, it was just 33-year-old, BISEXUAL, BLAKE GARRETH. I heard the MASTER is quite OBSERVANT but also DOMINEERING. HE seems to enjoy PET PLAY, but don’t try BATHROOM PLAY with this one. They’re looking for ANY asset who preferably looks like ANYONE
Blake is definitely something else, I guess that’s the easiest way to put it, because you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into at first introductions. He’s layered, shields himself mostly from people at the start, but the more he gets to know you, to trust you more importantly, that’s when the layers are peeled back and you’re really introduced to the man that stands before you. He’s been through some shit in his time that you wouldn’t believe, so yes he is very calloused and doesn’t take too easily to newcomers, but with enough patience he’s not the hardest shell to crack - just keep drilling for oil, I suppose.
Growing up things were normal, he was an only child to parents who didn’t necessarily have much to their names. They had enough to get by though, had their house with the white picket fence, but other than that they weren’t rich by any means. He attended public school, played sports, was insanely popular based on looks alone, and was an all around great guy to be around. He was the epitome of an all american boy next door that anyone would be proud to be friends with, or even date if he gave you the option (which he did date around in high school but it was nothing fantastic). He was never one to really hide behind any facades and even let it be known that he was just as interested in men as he was in women when he was only a sophomore, what can I say the man knows what he likes and isn’t afraid to admit to the masses.
Things didn’t start going wrong for him until he became a police officer. He was like every other boy who dreamed of wearing the blue and keeping the city of Chicago safe (given pictures and gifs I have it just was easier to keep it in chicago honestly i’ll admit to that streak of laziness hah). His mother preferred he be anything else, but his father was proud as could be as his son graduated from the academy and was welcomed by the force. As a rookie he followed the book, though soon started to learn just how crooked some cops could be, and his stupidity (moral compass) lead him to telling his superior’s - the city had enough shit to deal with through criminal activity, it didn’t need to follow them into the precinct.
Bad idea though, he honestly should have known that it wasn’t just a cop or two that was crooked in the precinct, and pretty soon once people found out he’d been a whistle blower it’s almost as though he had a target on his back. Nobody wanted to be his partner anymore, there were hits put out for him, but the man seemed to get through most of them unscathed. He had a longtime girlfriend though, went by the name of Blair (it was her last name but being an officer herself it was a nickname that stuck), who wasn’t so lucky and got in the way of a bullet meant for him. He never saw it coming, she did though (she was always the better eye - even he’d admit that), he’d sensed no danger when she jumped into action. His knee jerk reaction was to shoot, pulling his gun from his holster and taking down the perpetrator, quick to tend to her as he hollered for someone to call the paramedics. It was a gruesome scene, one that he relives in his memory quite frequently, and to make matters worse knowing that bullet had been meant for him (he found out later by the slip up of some of the badges talking) brings on so much more grief.
He knew he’d never be able to take down the entire precinct, not when the more he looked into it the deeper shit seemed to be, so with that he handed over his badge and gun - he couldn’t work for a department with that much bad blood. It’s not like the hits just went away though, if anything they intensified once the precinct figured out what he was doing. He’d given himself a hobby of sorts, working freelance as a private investigator to make ends meet, and when he wasn’t working a civilians case he was working his own - his main aim to take down the precinct for all the corruption behind it’s doors, he just needed to figure out who ran the operation. Cut the snake off at the head and all would be good, or so he assumed (or hoped more likely) that would be the case.
The further he dug into the shit storm the more he hated what he had found, and he’ll never forget the night he confronted the mayor about just how far the corruption had gotten, knowing full well the mayor was the one behind all of it. He should have seen that coming, it was like out of a damn movie, but what he didn’t see was the shot from behind - a security guard he’d forgotten to take out before his rampage into the office. He lay bleeding on the floor of the mayors office, shot in the shoulder, though by the grace of god was spared - the mayor called the paramedics, and tended to him while waiting for them to arrive - not without threatening his very existence though, and vowing to finish the job if he were to try anything (he made up some story about a crazed criminal barging into his office and trying to shoot the mayor but the valiant ex-police officer had jumped infront of the bullet - a story that’d make the papers love the mayor that much more as the blood was cleaned from his carpets).
Blake had heard the warning though, how he needed to get out of Chicago before the next shot was centered more, taking aim at the heart that had already been broken before. He knew the mayor would have no problem taking him out, he was nothing more than a risk worth getting rid of, but could he leave that world behind for good? He vowed on the night that his girlfriend had died to take them all down, and running away would never accomplish that - though he did need to let the heat die down some, and with that he was gone. He’d heard of Eros, a secret to most of the world, and figured a tropical island would be the best to escape and hideout for a while - let off some steam as he went over all the evidence again and again, having brought his laptop with a ridiculous amount of files on it to read through.
Not to mention to be able to release some tension on an asset, it sounded too good to be true. He’s a bit jumpy and doesn’t really open up too much, but once you get to know him you’ll find he’s very genuine and just wants to serve and protect (he could never fall into the world of corruption, he was an actual good cop for once). His wound is still healing, it’s forming a nice scar now, so when he does have his shirt off it’s a very prominent feature on his right shoulder (which he is very self conscious about). Other than that there’s a few scrapes and scars littered over the rest of his body, mere badges to his years of service before all the shit started going down. He’s lost a lot of blood for the city of Chicago but that doesn’t stop him from planning his return.
As always, hit me up if you’d like to plot, i’m open to anything!
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 2: A Match...Or Not
It took almost a week before I got matched on the app I’d originally swore not to sign up for: Tinder.
After hearing nothing from the other sites and ignoring the ones I got that I knew I would never get along with in person, I caved and got Tony to make me a profile. He snorted when I went through it at first. We also ended up matching, because he thought it would be funny. It was not.
“Come on, Izzy!” he’d yelled three days after I made an account. “You need to start swiping right or we’ll never get anywhere! Do you want me to go out into the real world to meet people or not?”
I gave an obnoxious groan in response. “Fine. Fine, I’ll swipe right on the next person to show up. They probably won’t be into me any—” We matched. Tony howled with laughter. I stared at the screen for five minutes.
It wasn’t until after I got over my initial shock and took a better look at the profile that I realized I’d matched with someone eight years older than me. Sure, he wasn’t old by any means, and he had a nice enough face, but I’d been hoping to avoid a match for as long as possible.
“Tony, he’s twenty-nine! There’s such a huge age difference!”
My best friend just laughed some more. “Come on, Iz, we’re adults. Age doesn’t matter so much after you reach twenty. Veronica was almost five years older than me, and we lasted six months.”
“So not helping.”
He ruffled my hair, ignoring the glare I shot his way. “Just talk to him, see if you guys make a good match. Then you two can meet at a restaurant or something for a little date. Who knows, it might go better than you’d think.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Still, I guess I have to keep true to my side of the bargain.” I glanced down at my phone again, looking at the picture of my match.
His name was Paul, and in his biography, he said that he enjoyed late-night movies, the occasional glass of wine, and had a great love of history. At least we shared the habit of an occasional glass of wine, though saying my drinking habits were occasional was putting it lightly.
I sighed, feeling Tony’s eyes on me the entire time I checked out Paul’s profile. After a few more minutes of procrastination, I opened the message that told us we’d matched. There was one single word from him.
Paul: Hello!
I scrunched my nose, peering up at Tony, who watched me with a grin. Shaking my head, I focused my attention back on my phone and typed in my response.
Isabelle: Hi! How are you? It embarrassed me just pressing send.
The next response came almost immediately. For the next hour, Paul and I talked about our interests and arranged a date for that night. Since it was a Tuesday, I told him the dinner would have to be an early one, as I had class the following day. He didn’t need to know that class wasn’t until two in the afternoon. Or that the possibility of me going home with him regardless was next to impossible, since my experience stopped with my shared kiss with Tony.
Six hours later, I sat in the passenger seat of Tony’s beat-down car. He kept reaching over to fix my hair and makeup, excitement still written all over his face.
“You’re going to do great, Iz. I’ll be here to pick you up at around nine, okay? Then we can go home, and you can tell me all about your magical night.”
I snorted when he said magical. “Don’t go too crazy in the apartment while I’m gone, okay? I’ll see you in two hours.” He smiled when I leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, grabbing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before he let me leave the car.
I waved bye as he drove away, taking a deep breath and straightening my dress before I stepped into the pub that was a few blocks away from my college.
Paul stood up from his chair when he saw me approach, a smile spread across his face. “Isabelle, it’s great to meet you.” He fumbled around before pulling my chair out for me to sit down.
“Thank you.” I found it hard to breathe. Once he’d taken his seat across from me again, I smiled back. “It’s great to meet you too, Paul. Sorry I’m a bit late.”
Actually, I was right on time. He’d been early. I wasn’t sure if it was worse that I’d arrived just when we’d said, or that he’d been sitting here waiting for me at least ten minutes.
“So, you’re still in college, are you? How’s that going? I never got the chance to go. My mom needed help paying the bills after my dad passed away when I was in high school. Things going good there?”
I nodded, quietly thanking the waiter when he brought me a glass of water. When he was no longer within earshot, I answered Paul. “Yeah, I have one year left to go for my bachelor’s degree, then I’m thinking about getting a master’s degree after a year-long break. What did you want to study?”
“Biology, actually. I’ve always wanted to be a zoologist. A veterinarian was the more realistic approach at that dream. But, life got in the way of education.” Paul had the kind of laugh that made you want to join. He also had auburn hair that lit up in the dim light of the pub. I found myself staring at him for longer than considered appropriate, admiring his clear green eyes.
He seemed to notice my staring, the mood at the table shifting. A small part of me considered loosening up, letting myself go for just one night. I’d never been one for the thought of hooking up, but I had to admit Paul would be the one I’d consider forgetting those morals for.
No, that would be insane. Drinking two glasses of wine with Tony before this date had been a terrible idea. I could already feel my rationality deteriorating.
Paul cleared his throat, waving the waiter from earlier over so we could order our food. I asked for a simple hamburger with a side of fries. The salad here wasn’t the best, and I’d never been self-conscious eating around men.
“So, as long as we’re discussing our lives, I guess you should know that I do have a child. A daughter, actually.” My eyes must have widened because he sat up straight. “Sorry, it’s just—I—you—it’s always best to be honest from the start, in case things go anywhere. I find that women appreciate it if I tell them at the beginning about my daughter.”
There would not be another date. That much I could guarantee.
I forced the dozenth smile of the evening and clasped my hands in front of me on the table. “Thank you for your honesty. I appreciate it.” I no longer had any unsettling thoughts about going home with him tonight.
“Here you guys go.” The waiter reappeared, his name tag standing out against his uniform. I narrowed my eyes to get a better look. Zack. He seemed to notice me and looked over. “Enjoy your dinner.”
I’d been to this pub several times over the years and had never seen this waiter before. He must be new.
No sooner than we’d taken our first few bites of our burgers did Zack the Waiter appear again. “How’s the food? Everything okay?”
Of course he asked this while I had a bunch of food in my mouth. When I attempted to answer, my response sounded muffled.
“Yes, thank you” sounded more like a bunch of gibberish. I chewed fasted, quickly swallowing the food, and looked up at him. He looked like he wanted to laugh. “It’s fantastic, thanks,” I said, heat creeping up my neck.
Zack smiled and bowed his head in the slightest of nods. “Great. Let me know if you need anything.” His eyes flickered to Paul for a second before he took off to another table.
“So, Rosenberg, huh? What is that, German?” I noticed him look at my face, curiosity about my ethnicity reflected in his eyes.
I nodded, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand without thinking. I’d definitely spent way too much time around Tony, my manners around someone who was a date were far from appropriate.
“Yeah, it sure is. My grandfather is American, and my grandmother was a Heinz-57.” He raised an eyebrow and I laughed. “I mean she was a bunch of different nationalities. The only was she knew for certain was that her mother was Moroccan, and her father was at least a third Nigerian. People always ask me what I am, so I figure I may as well tell you now. My dad is also Korean.”
“Huh” was Paul’s only response. Most of our small talk died out after that, and I couldn’t say it didn’t leave me with a sense of relief. Incompatibility would make it easier for us to forever part ways at the end of the night.
Several times within the next hour, Zack the Waiter came to check up on us. He talked to me most of the time, almost seeming to forget Paul was even there. I noticed the glint of irritation in my date’s eyes when Zack came around for the fourth time within ten minutes.
“We’re doing great, thanks. I’ll let you know if we need anything.” The hint of hostility in Paul’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by our waiter, who apologized before hurrying off.
He did not come back to check on us again.
“You said your dad was Korean?” This came up nearly forty minutes after I’d initially mentioned it. “Does that mean he took your mother’s maiden name?”
The subject of many a debate within my family. “Yeah, he did. He has three brothers and my mom’s side is all girls, so they figured it would be nice to continue the Rosenberg name for another generation. Fortunately, I have two brothers, so the Rosenberg family will live on.”
“I couldn’t imagine taking my wife’s last name.”
My hand froze on its way to my mouth, a fry pinched between my thumb and pointer finger. “Why not?”
Paul shrugged, his lips twitching. “The tradition is for the bride to take her husband’s last name, isn’t it?”
I knew my smile was too wide to be believable. He had to know I was faking it. “Well, my father is secure enough in his masculinity to accept giving up his surname. Besides, he was the one to suggest it. I think it just proved how much he respected and loved my mom and wanted to keep her family name alive along with his. Now the Rosenberg and the Yeon last name will carry on.”
He didn’t answer, instead giving a polite smile as a response. We spent the rest of the dinner talking about work and college, avoiding the subject of last names and ethnicity. I looked forward to never seeing Paul Hubert again.
At the end of night, I received a text from Tony that he would be waiting for me down the street. He told me to take all the time I needed, adding a winking emoji at the end. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Are you sure you can’t come over for a little bit?” Paul stood less than a foot away from me outside of the pub, the money I’d given him for my own meal tucked away in his coat pocket. I’d insisted to reimburse him, knowing we would never see each other again and not wanting him thinking I’d used him for a free meal and some cheap alcohol.
I nodded, trying to take as subtle a step back as possible. “Positive. My best friend is waiting for me just down the street, I don’t have the heart to make the trip here for nothing.”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. You’re really interesting, Isabelle. I’d like to get to know you more.”
Code for: let me take you back to my place so we can sleep together. I’d watched enough movies and heard enough stories from Tony to know that.
“Sorry, I really can’t betray her like that.” I started to grin at the knowledge Paul thought my best friend was a she, and quickly stopped myself. “I had a nice time, though.” Not really. We weren’t a great match.
Paul nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the ground for a moment. My heart leapt into overdrive when his eyes met mine and he started to lean in.
Before our lips could touch, I ducked out of the way, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He seemed too stunned to call me back when I bid him farewell.
I didn’t dare relax until Tony’s 2001 Ford Taurus came into sight, the hideous yellow paintjob reminding me of a taxi cab. This had been the vehicle he chose to drive around in since our junior year of high school. It was horrible, but it still reminded me of happy memories. Late nights driving home from the movies senior year of high school, early morning breakfast runs before class freshman year of college.
Tony sighed as I slid into the passenger seat. “Okay, spill. I can tell from your expression this date was anything but magical.”
“He insulted my parents!”
He frowned, his brow furrowing. “How?”
“Uh, let me think. He basically made fun of my dad for taking my mother’s last name. And then he said that he couldn’t imagine taking his wife’s last name, as if it’s such a terrible thing to ever consider that. Thank God I never have to see him again.”
“You aren’t going to go on another date?”
I turned to face him, my eyes narrowed into a glare. “He suggested we go back to his place to ‘get to know me more.’ As if I didn’t know what that really meant.”
“Would it really be that bad? We live in a hookup-oriented world, Iz. Maybe you’d calm down and change your ideas about love and relationships if you just slept with a stranger.” His mouth said one thing, but his face said another.
“And let me guess, you’ve hooked up with a bunch of random women?” I knew he didn’t believe in even kissing on the first date, which made it all the more confusing as to why he used online dating to find relationships.
Tony groaned, starting up the car. “All I’m saying is that you’ve never cared much about that stuff anyway, so would it be so bad if you lived a little for once? It’s entirely your choice, of course.”
“I’d sooner make a marriage pact with you than sleep with Paul.”
He laughed, taking his eyes off the road to look at me as he pulled away from the curb. A loud thud cut him off and I yelped. We both turned to look at the front of the vehicle, and a familiar face stared back. It was Zack. Zack the Waiter.
A string of curses flowed from Tony’s mouth as he struggled to unbuckle. I reached over to push the button for him, and he threw his door open without thanking me, rushing out to apologize. The headlights illuminated them both, their appearances nearly opposites.
Zack the Waiter had light blond hair and warm brown eyes. He kind of reminded me of Mr. Handsome, except he was far more handsome than Mr. Handsome. I tilted my head to the side and studied his profile for a little longer. The lips that weren’t full, but also weren’t thin that were currently moving as he talked to my best friend who had almost run him over. I found myself drawn to those lips more than any other feature. Then, he glanced at me, and the illusion shattered.
I straightened, fumbled around with my own seatbelt, and then joined the two men in front of the car.
“It’s no problem, really. You barely even touched me, I just smacked my hand on the top of the hood.” Zack was trying to calm Tony down, who looked like he might experience a full breakdown.
Tony shook his head, his eyes shining in the yellow glow of the headlights. “It’s not ‘no problem’! I almost hit you! Fuck.” He ran his hands through his hair, tugging on it so hard it pained me just witnessing it.
Anyone who didn’t know Tony would think he was overreacting, but I knew the real reason behind his behavior. Over a decade earlier, his uncle had been in a terrible crash that left him paralyzed from the waist down. It had almost killed him. Ever since hearing the news, he’d always tried to take extra care when driving. Until tonight. When he’d been distracted, because of me.
I stepped forward, past Zack the Waiter, and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He turned and wrapped me in a hug without a word. Thankfully there was no one else around to witness this moment.
“Hey, man, it’s fine. I wasn’t hurt, really. There’s no reason to get so upset.” Zack looked uncomfortable. His eyes met mine, and recognition filled them. “Oh, hello.”
“Hi,” I said, patting Tony on the back, a wordless command to let me go. He did, and apologized to Zack again before walking back to the driver’s seat. Once inside the car, he rested his head on the steering wheel.
Zack stared at him a moment before looking back at me. “Is he going to be okay? You’d think he’d sent me flying or something.”
I nodded, clenching my hands in fists at my sides. “He’ll be fine. It’s a long story. Sorry about tonight. Both for inside the restaurant and what just happened. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
He sighed, giving me a fake smile as an answer. “I’ll live. Just make sure your friend gets home safe, okay? Looks like he needs comforting a lot more than I do. And don’t worry about inside the restaurant, this isn’t my first waiting gig. You weren’t the issue anyway. Have a great night.” Zack the Waiter bowed his head again before taking off in the direction of the nearest subway station.
I considered offering him a ride, but decided that would be too weird. We didn’t know each other, after all. Instead, I went back to Tony and comforted him the entire ride back to our apartment. When we got inside, he went straight to his room, emerging an hour later with puffy eyes. I kept silent.
Many hours later, he’d fallen asleep with his head in my lap, quiet snores filling the apartment as I stared at a wall. The events of the night played on a loop in my head. Paul’s contagious laugh echoed in my mind as I stared at the photo from Tony’s cousin's wedding, his cousin and his wife surrounded by their family. Tony’s uncle in the wheelchair, his attention on his son and new daughter-in-law, grinning like he didn’t have any worries in the world.
I fell asleep on the couch, too worried about Tony to risk moving away from him. As I drifted to sleep, my mind wandered back to the restaurant. Only I didn’t think about Paul. A head of blond hair entered my thoughts for the briefest of seconds. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind, running my fingers through Tony’s dark hair.
When I woke up hours later, I was in my own bed, the smell of Tony’s cologne still hanging in the air.
1 note
·
View note
Text
No room to swing a Cat? - p.11
(11) – The second attempt
“Good morning!” Marinette greeted Adrien the next day. She was a bit confused finding him in the kitchenette.
“Morning, Mari!” he smiled in reply. “Did you sleep well?”
“Surprisingly well, considering the evening!” she laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“Breakfast?” he winked at her. “Please, don’t tell me you’re surprised I can cook…”
“Of course not…” she muttered, trying to hide confusion.
Adrien glanced at her, amused. Yet, he didn’t comment her astonishment but said in an indifferent tone:
“I’ve heard that you served breakfast recently. I thought it would be nice to prepare one for you. Especially, when you’ve been through so much…”
Marinette smiled evasively, still wondering why he’d changed so suddenly. She didn’t care about discovering he could cook, but about his talkative nature that didn’t fit to the nowadays-Adrien. Rather to the old-time-Adrien. “Old-time” – that was a key to solve this puzzle. Adrien began to behave like his teenage version.
“So, what are you cooking?” she asked, sitting down at the countertop.
“Pancakes.”
“Uhm, Adrien? They don’t look like crepes…” she noticed, glancing at the pan on the oven.
“Because they’re American pancakes, not ours.”
“You’re sure you want to serve something like that in France?” she joked.
“You’ll change your mind when you taste it. When I was in New York I lost my head for them. I went directly to the chef in the hotel and begged him to teach me how to cook it.”
“You’ve been in New York?” she asked in astonishment.
“Two years ago, I guess… After lycée my father sent me there because of his plans of conquering the fashion world in the States.” Adrien admitted and winced unknowingly.
“But…” she murmured not understanding.
“When I came back I told my father that I quit. I left it all…” he explained staring at the pan. “Besides… Not only modelling…” he added under his breath and winced again.
At that moment Marinette realised that his grimace was quite similar to hers whenever someone mentioned Luka. And to Cat Noir’s when he had been talking about his ex-girlfriend. Could it mean that Adrien was thinking about Kagami right now? Did it mean that he’d dumped her right after coming back from New York? Why?
“I suppose your father wasn’t happy?”
“He was furious.” Adrien admitted and turned over pancakes on the pan.
“Because you quit? Or because you came back with a new habit of eating American pancakes instead of our French crepes?” she joked, and he laughed.
“Yeah! It was all about pancakes!” he commented ironically.
Marinette burst out laughing and Adrien glanced at her sideways. He smiled warmly and instantly focused on cooking again. After a while he put a plate with pancakes in front of the girl.
“Do you want maple syrup?” he asked.
“Stop teasing my French soul…” she muttered, but he only chuckled in respond.
“Your French soul will be delighted.” he assured her. “Or at least your French palate… Fine. Without topping they’re delicious too.”
“You’re not too humble, aren’t you?”
“I’m just certain about the quality of the meal. Try it and then tell me where I’m wrong.” He looked at her provocatively, and she raised her eyebrow ironically.
“Fine. Challenge accepted…” she said finally. Hearing that Adrien crossed his arms on his chest and stared at her impatiently, observing her trying the pancakes.
Marinette did her best to chew the first morsel as long as she could – only to postpone the moment when she had to agree with him. In the end she couldn’t stand his gaze anymore, so she muttered:
“They’re delicious, indeed…”
“I told you so!” he smiled triumphantly then turned back to the oven to continue cooking.
“But not enough to betray our French ones.” She added in a teasing tone. “It’s obvious you haven’t tried my crepes yet…”
“If I try, I’ll believe.” he joined her game.
“You’ll beg for mercy…”
Adrien laughed.
“So it looks like tomorrow breakfast is on you.” he said, glancing at her.
“Deal.” she nodded and continued eating.
After a while Adrien put another plate with pancakes on the countertop, but she protested:
“Eat something, please. It’s not fair that only me will be fat…”
He chuckled, then he leaned over the plate, basing on his elbows. He began eating still staring at the girl, but she was focused on her breakfast, so she didn’t notice a warm smile on his face. Meanwhile Adrien shoved a stool closer and sat vis-à-vis Marinette.
For a longer while they were eating in a perfect silence, and probably only because of that they heard a muffled noise in Alya and Nino’s bedroom. They both looked up and their eyes met for a moment.
“What was that?” Marinette asked breathless, surprised with the fact they were so close to each other.
“I bet Alya was watching us and Nino interrupted her.” he replied amused that made his eyes sparkle. As if the old Adrien came back. The one she remembered from the school.
“She’s getting more and more unbearable…” she muttered. “I think I should talk to her before my life turns into a nightmare…”
“Why?”
“She’s so interested in my life… The more, she started spreading some rumours…”
Adrien looked at her sideways, then he asked in hoarse voice:
“Uhm… What was the case with Cat Noir?”
This time Marinette blushed terribly.
“Oh, it’s silly thing…”
“Silly?” he spotted.
“Er… ‘Silly’ is a wrong word… But it really turned out a bit insane… And Alya jumped directly to conclusions. Hasty conclusions! Because… I don’t know if you remember…” she hesitated. “Er… The first evening when Cat Noir brought me here, Alya was joking all the time that I should date him. And the rest…”
“Yeah, I remember…” Adrien muttered, but couldn’t help smiling when he recalled the part about kittens.
“So… It turns out…” Marinette hesitated again and glanced at him unsure. Yet, what was wrong in telling him about that? She looked over her shoulder at the door to Alya’s room, then she leaned closer to Adrien and whispered: “Cat Noir visits me sometimes here. Please, don’t tell anyone, OK? Especially Alya!”
“I’ve thought she’s your best friend and you don’t have secrets between each other…” Adrien murmured, trying to calm down after that confession. It wasn’t easy when he heard his heart beating in his ears.
“We don’t. Usually…”
“So, why won’t you tell her?” he asked trying to sound like he wasn’t interested in it at all, while he was dying to know.
“She didn’t tell me either about Nino before he confessed to her.” She blurted out irritably.
Hearing that Adrien flushed instantly and dropped the fork he’d been holding. He was staring at her in shock, speechless. She realised immediately how he could interpret her words.
“Nothing of the kind!” she hissed.
“If you say so…” he whispered with a smile that he couldn’t hide. Suddenly he felt so happy as he hadn’t been since forever. Marinette’s behaviour gave him a hint of hope that she felt something more than just liking to him. Or rather to Cat Noir…
“You too?” she winced. “I have fantastic friends, indeed…” she commented wryly.
Irritated, she stood up and murmuring “Thanks for breakfast!” she turned away to leave. Adrien grabbed her hand instinctively, almost falling down from his stool.
“I apologise, Mari…” he whispered. “You can always count on me whenever you need… uhm… support…” he added and smiled warmly with those green sparkles in his eyes.
Marinette looked at him carefully, not knowing how she should understand what he’d just said, nor his smile and hesitation. Something was hidden beneath them, but she didn’t know the answer for this puzzle.
“Thanks, Adrien…” she nodded finally, giving him a sign she accepted his apologies. “For breakfast too… Tomorrow you’ll try my crepes and you’ll give up your silly American habits… Now, would you excuse me? I’ll be late for my classes.”
Saying that, she almost ran away to her bedroom. She didn’t look back, so she couldn’t see that Adrien observed her with a grin on his face until she disappeared in her room. As soon as she felt safe, she leaned against the door and sighed frustrated. She glanced nervously at the window, like she was expecting Cat Noir there – he loved catching her in the worst moments. But no. This time he didn’t show up. She wasn’t sure if she felt relief or disappointment…
—
No room to swing a Cat? p.10 <- Previous part | Next part -> No room to swing a Cat? p.12
Start reading from the beginning
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy Birthday, leeef!
April 1 - Deke Shaw and Darcy Lewis “You punched me in the face while gesticulating wildly to a friend" for @leeef Written by @ozhawkauthor
Okay, that prompt’s funny. But punched in the balls is FUNNIER, right?
“So,” Wanda leaned across the table, grinning crookedly at Darcy, “do you see anything you like?” She waved vaguely around the crowded bar.
“I’m never going on an Avengers girls’ night again,” Darcy grumbled as several avid stares were turned her way. “You’re all way too interested in my love life!”
“We’re all boringly happy couples.” Helen Cho-Wilson waved her hand, the paired platinum bands on her ring finger flashing in the lights. “We gotta live vicariously through you, since you’re the only singleton, and you’ve resisted all efforts to set you up with the few remaining single guys in our midst.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but really!” Darcy shook her head. “Nobody in their right mind would date Loki .”
“Told you that was never gonna work.” Jane elbowed the Valkyrie, who shrugged and belched before picking up her tequila bottle for another long shrug.
“It was worth a try. That boy has a serious case of blue balls.” Brunnhilde sniggered at her own joke.
“And while Wong’s a really sweet guy, he’s a little older than I like them,” Darcy plowed on.
“What about Luis?” Hope demanded.
“Another sweet, sweet guy. But I do like to get a word in edgeways occasionally. Look, I love that you guys would like to matchmake me, it shows you really do think I’m one of you and that means a lot.”
“But butt out?” Pepper correctly summed up.
“Yes!” Darcy flung her arms wide with relief as the other ladies at the table nodded along in agreement. Unfortunately, the gesture was a little too enthusiastic and she whacked a guy walking past their table right in the groin.
The guy made a strangled noise and kind of folded up in a graceless ball, triggering hysterical laughter from some at Darcy’s table (Hope, Brunnhilde and Natasha) and everyone else jumping up and exclaiming with concern. Being closest, Darcy got to the guy first.
“Ohmigod, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“No, I just got punched in the nuts!” the guy croaked out, curled in the foetal position. “What the hell did I ever do to you?”
“It was an accident! Seriously, are you hurt? Two of my friends are doctors.” Darcy looked imploringly at Helen and Christine, who’d pushed their way to the front of the crowd.
“I’m a trauma surgeon at Metro Central, I can have an ambulance here in two minutes.” Christine already had her phone out, but the guy shook his head.
“No. No hospitals, thank you.”
“If you don’t have insurance…” Christine started, and the guy barked out the oddest laugh.
“I’m okay. Or I will be, in a minute. I’ve had worse.” He was already uncurling, trying to get to his feet. Darcy offered a hand, and after a moment he accepted, letting her help him up.
At which point she realized he was really kind of hot. Tallish, wavy brown hair, eyes a fascinating shade of blue grey, a bit of scruffy stubble, leather jacket… he ticked all Darcy’s boxes.
And she even had the perfect excuse to offer to buy him a drink.
“Sure,” Hot Guy said when she offered. “I never say no to a drink.”
She had to get him away from the other ladies, who were already starting to giggle, smirk and, in Brunnhilde’s case, make lewd suggestions. Hastily linking her arm through his, Darcy led him towards the bar.
“I’m Darcy,” she said.
“Deke,” he responded after a moment. He was limping a bit, Darcy noted, feeling guilty.
“Are you really okay? I’m so sorry I hit you. My friends…”
“I’m really okay. Like I said, I’ve had worse.” He smiled down at her.
“You from round here?” Darcy asked curiously. His accent didn’t sound local, didn’t sound quite American, really.
“Not really.” His mouth quirked up at the corners.
From the corner of her eye, Darcy spied Wanda literally climbing over Natasha, heading in her direction. She’d never seen a look like that on Wanda’s face before, a mixture of shock, horror and disbelief.
“So where are you from?” Darcy pressed, curious, as the barman set two beer bottles down in front of them. Deke picked his up and took a long swig before setting it back down on the bar and looking Darcy straight in the eye.
“The shattered remnants of future Earth,” he said evenly.
Flummoxed for an instant, Darcy snorted with laughter. “That work on many girls?” she asked derisively.
“Nope.”
“Then why bother with such a bullshit line?”
“Darcy,” Wanda had finally reached them, grabbed at her elbow. “Darcy, he’s telling the truth .”
“Whut.” Darcy looked from her to Deke, who lifted his beer in an ironic sort of toast before draining the bottle. “Are you serious? Of all the guys in the world I could have punched in the nuts, I pick a time traveler?”
“Guess you’re just lucky, sweetheart,” Deke said with a warm grin which made her insides do strange squirmy things. “Unfortunately, I gotta go. Thanks for the beer.”
“Oh,” Wanda said, “You’re not going anywhere. We need to have a Talk.”
Deke’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at Wanda and Darcy, both a good deal smaller than him. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline that invitation,” he said.
“No, you’re really not, sweet cheeks,” Brunnhilde said behind him, and as he turned to look at her, Wanda reached up and grazed a finger sparkling with red light over his temple. He collapsed into Brunnhilde’s arms.
“A bit too much to drink!” Darcy babbled to nobody in particular as she followed them out of the bar. “He’ll be fine once he’s had some fresh air!”
* * *
Deke blinked sandy-feeling eyes open and squinted around, wondering where the hell he was. He was in a bed, a surprisingly comfortable one at that, in a room fitted out with dark panels of what he thought might actually be wood. There were two people sitting beside the bed, neither talking to each other; one of them, an austere-looking guy with wings of white in his dark hair, was looking at a huge, ornate-looking old book, and the attractive young woman beside him was fiddling with her phone.
The woman was familiar, and after a moment he recalled how he knew her. It was Darcy, the girl who’d whacked him by accident in the bar. He’d let her buy him a drink even though he’d been on his way out of there, thinking that a few minutes to enjoy the company of a pretty girl wouldn’t hurt.
It seemed she had friends, however. Friends with really weird taste in clothing. He found himself staring at the older guy, wondering what the heck that red cloak was all about. Nobody dressed like that in the present day, did they?
“The present day, a curious turn of phrase,” the man said, turning dark blue eyes on Deke, and he flinched to realize he’d spoken aloud. Damn, he was getting soft, no longer having to watch his back for the Kree every second of every day.
“My friends say you claim to be from the future. No doubt you think everyone will write you off as a joker, insane, or a bit of both. Unfortunately for you, one of my friends is the Scarlet Witch.”
“An Inhuman, then?” Deke asked.
There was a beat of silence before Darcy’s eyes, as blue as the man’s, widened almost comically.
“Shit, you really are from the future. Nobody’s that oblivious,” she said to the man, who nodded in agreement.
“Which begs the question, how did you get here?” The man reached up to finger an amulet hanging around his throat. “Because as far as I know, there’s only one artifact in the entire universe which enables one to travel through time.”
“If you’re talking about the White Monolith, I’m afraid we broke it. If you’re not talking about the White Monolith… well, looks like there were two, but we broke one, so now there’s one again.”
“I like him,” Darcy said to the man. “Can we keep him, Stephen?”
“Why are you even here?” Stephen shot her an irritated look.
“Wong likes me and so does the Cloak,” Darcy said cheerfully, “and even you’re not mean enough to make me fall through space like you did to Loki, so. Plus, I found him.” She pointed at Deke.
“Technically, you punched me in the groin,” Deke pointed out.
“Accidentally slapped,” Darcy corrected. “And I bought you a drink to say sorry!”
“Highlight of my night.” It had been the highlight of a lot more than that. She really was very pretty, and she also seemed to be kind of on his side. She even blushed a little bit when he said that.
“I probably owe you a few more to say sorry for Wanda putting her whammy on you and then us kidnapping you.”
“Any time. Now’d be good, actually.”
“Stephen?” Darcy gave the man an appealing look, and he sighed irritably before holding out his hand.
There was an empty beer stein in it. Deke opened his mouth to say he’d prefer a beer someone hadn’t already drunk, when the glass filled right before his disbelieving eyes.
“That is a really fucking cool Inhuman power,” he said when he got his breath back. “Even the Kree would have to agree on that one.”
Stephen smiled wryly as he handed the beer over. It even tasted fantastic, Deke thought as he took the first sip.
“I can see you and I have a lot to talk about, young man,” Stephen said. “But before we start, I’d better explain just exactly who I’m associated with. Have you ever heard of the Avengers?”
Deke spluttered into his beer. “The Avengers? They’re just legends! Old stories!” Although, come to think of it, he did vaguely recall Coulson muttering something about a last resort, one time… “Wait, were the Avengers real? In this time?”
“You know what? I’m going to let Darcy catch you up on stuff you might not know while I go and search my books for reference to a White Monolith.” Stephen stood to leave the room, at which point Deke realized there was no door. Stephen made a weird gesture with his hand instead and some sort of circular blue portal opened in mid-air, showing a completely different room on the other side. The portal closed once Stephen stepped through, and Deke stared open-mouthed at Darcy.
“It’s like Steve Rogers in reverse,” Darcy muttered. “As I’m sure you realize, he’s the only way in and out of this room. So escaping isn’t an option, I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Deke lied.
“You’re full of shit, but I think I like you anyway. Are all guys as hot as you in the future? When exactly is this future of yours, anyway?”
“Thought you were the one filling me in?” Deke arched a brow at her.
“How about a trade? Answers for answers.”
“I’d rather trade kisses for answers.” He was quite surprised when Darcy grinned.
“We could play that game too.”
He was definitely getting to like the early twenty-first century. Yes, indeed.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
characters — jade kristine qi
GIVE ME THE STRENGTH AND HEIGHT OF GLORY
full name:
— jade kristine qi
nicknames:
— none. jade likes her name and prefers to be called by it.
date of birth:
— july 16, 1998
age:
— as of july 17, 2016, jade is 18
nationality:
— american
ethnicity:
— mexican, cuban, filipino, and chinese
place of residence:
— new smyrna beach, florida
languages spoken:
— english
— spanish
— enough tagalog to get by
— jade also knows how to count to ten in chinese and thinks it counts as knowing chinese even though it really doesn’t
sexuality:
— bisexual
GIVE ME GLORIOUS LIFE, THE STRAINING AND THE STRIFE
general:
— jade is honestly, pretty hot. she’s got that trendy instagram look that makes even the straightest of girls question. she has an oval-shaped face with a sharp jawline and defined cheekbones. her nose is thin, but rounded and points up into a button nose. her eyes are light and almond-shaped, with thick eyelashes and eyebrows to frame them. her lips are thick and surly, and her skin is dark and clear, only peppered with freckles.
hair color:
— naturally, brown, but jade likes to dye it all sorts of colors. she did most of her experimenting as a pre-teen and for now, is sticking with a bubblegum pink hair color, but she’s been known to dye her hair green, silver, blue, purple...the list goes on.
hairstyle:
— jade’s hairstyle varies from day to day. jade’s hair is naturally slightly wavy, so she normally either leaves it like that or puts it back in a messy low ponytail. jade’s not the one for extravagant hairstyles.
eye color:
— jade’s eyes were bright green when she was born, but as she’s gotten older, they darkened down to green and eventually, to her current hazel.
body:
— i hate to be crude, but jade has a rockin’ bod. she’s one of those people that works out for fun. like, she’ll go to the gym and have fun. wild, i know. not only that, but she excelled at sports. i’m talking field hockey, cross country, track, basketball, soccer—jade did all of it, and it gave her a pretty high metabolism, hence her smokin’ hot body. she has a pretty small waist with toned abs, muscular arms, and thick legs.
height:
— jade stands at 5′6″ or 168 centimeters
weight:
— jade weighs 130 pounds or 59 kilograms.
LOVE, PASSION, HOPE IN THEIR DIVINEST SCOPE
casual style:
— jade’s everyday wear is simple. she dresses like your typical “instagram baddie,” just with more comfort. i’m talking sweatpants, crop tops, and sneakers. most of her clothes aren’t that expensive, mainly because jade is super broke, all the time, but it looks fine on jade. it’s nothing special, really.
formal:
— jade rarely goes anywhere where she needs to dress up, but when the occasion arises, she also usually goes for a simple look. jade would normally dress in an unadorned, long dress, maybe with spaghetti straps or a leg slit, but jade prefers to keep the attention on her face and not on her clothes. she’d probably wear some nice heels, too, or at least ones that look nice, and some jewelry from claire’s, probably.
sleepwear:
— jade’s sleepwear isn’t anything fancy. she usually just wears a big sweatshirt, even if she has people sleeping over. no one important’s really gonna see her anyway, so...
swimwear:
— jade’s swimwear is pretty much just the basic bathing suits you’d find at target, your simple bikinis with a few fun patterns or interesting cutouts. living in florida, she goes to the beach often, so she’ll pretty much wear any bathing suit that’s cheap, functional, and looks somewhat decent. she’s not really too picky.
athletic wear:
— jade’s workout clothes are pretty much based on comfort and they don’t really deviate from the usual “leggings-and-sports-bra” thing that most people have going on. no one’s going to see her, so what does it even matter?
dreamworld style:
— jade’s subconscious favors clothes that are a little more rugged than your typical dream keeper. she can be seen in short, dark green skirts and capes. they’re not exactly armor, but they’re easy to move around in, and they allow her to blend in with the other dream keepers. they’re adorned with gold pins.
— however, when the time comes, jade wears as much protective gear as she can. that is, while looking cute. her armor covers her up much more than her casual clothes. there are few rules of physics and science in the dreamworld, so often, armored clothes look exactly the same as normal clothes, similar to the uses of vibranium in black panther. normally, one would wear whatever armor is available, as there aren’t very many battles in the dreamworld and therefore, not a lot of armor, but jade likes earth-toned ( usually green ) armor that hugs her body and doesn’t weigh her down too much. she will often wear a cloak, a cape, or a poncho, just because most of the battles take place near the nightmare realm, where it’s much colder. she also wears a black gas mask, to try to protect her from hallucinations and any attacks that may affect her face.
HIGH WINDS ON MIGHTY SEAS, NOT SHELTERED BAY
personality overview:
— jade is kind of a confusing person. on the outside, she seems extroverted and crazy. she’s reckless, insane, and honestly, kind of mean. she’s egotistical and refuses to think about anyone but herself. anything she does is for her immediate comfort and benefit, even if it hurts someone else. she seems stupid on the outside too, and she kind of is. she focuses on the present, which makes her terrible at making plans and getting out of situations, but either way, jade picks up on social cues very well. she just doesn’t care. jade doesn’t look for anyone else’s opinion on her, which is both a blessing and a curse. she’s rough around the edges, and seems like an open book, when really, it’s just the tip of the iceberg.
— once more, jade isn’t stupid. she knows that people wouldn’t fear her, listen to her, or really even like her if they knew who she was at her core. so, she bottles everything up. she doesn’t disclose her past, her emotions, or her pain to anyone. she’ll whine about papercuts like nobody’s business so people think she’s open, but she’ll suffer in silence if she suffers from anything bad. at her core, jade is a cunning girl that prefers being alone, but she turns on her facade of a happy, extroverted, life of the party when she has to. maybe she feels like she has something to prove. maybe she doesn’t want people to see her weak. who knows?
personality type:
— istp-a
strengths:
— energetic // jade is a seemingly, endless ball of energy that doesn’t seem to get stressed out over much, only if she believes that something will seriously have consequences.
— creative and practical // jade isn’t super smart, but what she does know with a combination of her anxiety, makes her combine creative solutions with practical information to figure things out.
— spontaneous and rational // jade doesn’t think much before making decisions. she doesn’t overthink things and sees a crossroads sort of like a multiple choice answer. she thinks through all the scenarios and chooses the most logical one.
— knows how to prioritize // jade tries to focus on the task at hand and moves everything else to the back of her mind until she can come back to it later, which usually works pretty well.
— tough // jade’s really good at repressing all her emotions and only complaining about stupid, petty things. she can remain pretty relaxed during a crisis, giving her the impression of toughness.
weaknesses:
— stubborn // jade does this fun thing where she disagrees with anything you say, even if she doesn’t really believe it. that’s how stubborn she is.
— insensitive // jade cares little for the feelings of others and uses logic and her own personal agenda to get what she wants, even if it hurts others.
— private // as i said before, jade seems like an open book, but most people who think they know her really don’t know anything important about her.
— dislike commitment // jade has a really hard time forming meaningful relationships with the people around her, especially romantic ones, because in jade’s mind, a relationship would only weigh her down, so she just....doesn’t commit.
— reckless // jade is bored easily, which leads to terrible decisions and unnecessary trials that could’ve been avoided had she just sat still for a few minutes. with jade, situations often escalate quickly and she can quickly lose control of a situation.
STILL LET ME SNATCH THE CROWN
stats:
— strength : 10 // jade was a boxer for a few years. not only that, but the endless sports she did as a child and many, many fights she got into left her with a lot of brute strength.
— agility : 3 // while jade did many sports, gymnastics and/or dance was not one of them. she’s not very graceful and the little agility she has came from jumping hurdles.
— stealth : 2 // jade is a classically loud person, and very clumsy. stealth is definitely not her forte.
— intellect : 5 // jade is also fantastically bad at thinking ahead. she’s not good at planning ahead. she is good at deducing things, though.
— hand to hand combat : 7 // while jade is strong physically and her boxing and karate skills do come in handy, jade isn’t particularly good with weapons, so her hand to hand combat skills are merely average.
— weaponry : 0 // jade doesn’t even know how to shoot a gun, and jade’s far too clumsy to be good with swords and knives.
physical disabilities:
— a bad punch in her left ear left jade slightly hard of hearing. she should probably use a hearing aid, but didn’t really ever have the money to fix it.
mental disorders:
— jade has severe anxiety. it can always be seen in one way or another, usually by bouncing her leg and going through every worst possible scenario in her head.
— jade also has adhd, hence her not-so-great report cards. jade initially wanted to learn in school, but her adhd made it so difficult and she got so little help that she simply lost her motivation.
OF ALL LIFE HAS TO GIVE
friends:
— jade doesn’t need friends. they disappoint her. also, her commitment thing...
family:
— ana paulina rosales : mother // jade’s mother was always busy, which wasn’t her fault, but they never formed a meaningful relationship. jade learned from a young age to stay away from her mother, as to not bother or inconvenience her, so while jade would certainly like to protect her mom, she rarely talks to her about anything important.
— christopher andrew qi : father // jade never met her father. she detests him for leaving her and her mom. plain and simple.
past relationships:
— god, where do i start? jade’s had countless relationships, but none that really lasted more than a week. again, fear of commitment, so...
pets:
— jade’s family never had the time or money for any pets, so none.
AND TO CRY BUT ONCE
pre-conception:
— jade’s mother, ana paulina rosales was the daughter of a filipino immigrant and a poor mexican farmer. neither of them had anything, which meant that neither did jade’s mother. determined to break the cycle of poverty, jade’s mother tried her hardest to finish high school and actually did. like many immigrants, jade’s mother knew that she had to the united states if she wanted to do anything more than be a beggar on the street. so, she hitchhiked and walked all the way to monterrey, saving as much money as she could to finally get a visa and buy a plane ticket to dallas, texas, where she met christopher andrew qi, a cuban-chinese lawyer who promised ana paulina the world. she got pregnant, and when he found out, he bailed, leaving her broke, homeless, and pregnant.
— jade was born nine months later, and lived in dallas for the first few years of her life, until her mom managed to get back on her feet and save enough money to move to new smyrna beach, florida, a quiet and quaint town filled with retired white people, so if you’re a maid, basically prime real estate. jade used to help out, too, until she had to go to school. she was diagnosed with adhd at around seven years old, but no one really did anything to help jade learn, even though she really did want to. eventually, she simply lost interest which just led to jade listening to hours worth of green day during school, which didn’t help anyone at all.
— jade realized she was bisexual when she was in seventh grade and kissed a girl in her class, which was a lot less fun than it sounded. jade spent the next few years denying her sexuality, and her town wasn’t the most accepting of gay people, especially not lgbt+ women of color, which is when jade started to get into her first few scrapes, which began escalating. jade was keeping to herself, frying ants with a magnifying glass in eighth grade-ish, and before she knew it, people were punching her. she punched them back, but she didn’t have enough time to react, and the kid hit her left ear, hard. it sent her to the emergency room, and to this day, jade’s still hard of hearing. but life went on nonetheless.
— that fight was the first time jade went to juvie. she was accused of assault and battery, and come on, this is florida. who are they gonna believe, a straight white male kid or a bisexual woman of color? yeah, jade went to juvie. after that, it mostly went downhill. no one trusted her, so she was convicted of various things that never happened, for example, drug possession and distribution, resisting arrest, trespassing, and burglary. jade pretty much stopped caring at that point, and was arrested a total of 27 times, mostly for things she hadn’t done. after that, she figured that if people thought she was guilty, then she might as well live up to their standards and started regularly breaking the law. she only got caught sometimes.
— jade had originally made her instagram account in 2013, when she was 14 years old. obviously, most 14-year-olds are ugly and disgusting, so jade didn’t have a lot of followers from the start, but as she got older and prettier, her pictures started gaining recognition. she even did a few modeling gigs, which is where she found her passion. sadly, she had to drop out of high school her senior year to work and help her mom. she did help a lot by getting sponsorships on instagram, though, which brings us to present day. i can’t say much more because it’d give away the plot, so i’ll just leave it at that.
BUT ONCE I LIVE
likes:
— shopping // jade doesn’t go shopping often because she’s super broke, but when she does, she enjoys it.
— modeling // jade finds it relaxing and it helps her focus. plus, she’s good at it.
— boxing // out of all the sports jade has done, boxing is her favorite. it lets her harness her anger and frustration into something productive.
— the beach // who doesn’t like swimming, getting tan, and getting sand up your buttcrack for weeks?
— meat // jade tried going vegetarian, but she lost so much muscle mass that she had to keep eating meat. she got a taste for it eventually.
dislikes:
— creative writing // jade is only good at things that make sense, things that have a formula to them. creative writing does not.
— insects // they’re weird and disgusting and jade does not enjoy them.
— children // jade has a little bit of a potty mouth, so kids around jade is a sure recipe for disaster.
— fish // jade eats meat, yes, but she can’t stand the smell of fish, so even cooked fish is something that jade definitely stays away from.
— police officers // they’re annoying and kind of a nuisance and definitely a wrench in jade’s illegal shenanigans.
extra:
— jade can play the drums. not well, but she can carry a beat.
— jade auditioned for america’s next top model, but didn’t make it.
— jade met chris hemsworth once. or, rather, she broke into chris hemsworth’s house and tried to get an autograph. he kicked her out and she did not get her autograph and is now not allowed within 100 feet of chris hemsworth.
1 note
·
View note
Note
So, did you like it?
Before I go into it let me start by saying that you know I’m a VEHEMENT preacher of “speak with your wallet and your time instead of empty words” so I went to see this movie in theaters on opening weekend because I understand how important it was. It might have not been my thing but being a part of the entertainment industry I understand that in endless ways this movie was more than just A Standalone Movie and that it’s success or failure could and would shape decisions made in this business for years to come. My hope would’ve been that people could successfully put all the sociopolitical, diversity/representation, and business ramifications aside and judged it solely on its merits as a film.
To answer your question: “I didn’t dislike it” is the most accurate way to phrase it. It’s not bad, by any means. I do wish people were objective and admitted that it’s also not the flawless masterpiece a huge swath of the population is making it out to be. I think it has some very glaring weak points but the good things are phenomenal so it balances it out and the movie ends up being something like a 7/10 in average. Because I know you’ll ask let me give you at least three points for either side:
👎🏽:-I have a *serious* problem with the men in the film but none more so than T'Challa and the cousin whose name I can’t remember. I didn’t like how they were written and i ESPECIALLY didn’t like the performances. Chadwick gave too little and Michael gave too much. Michael overplayed that role to the point of caricature (and yes I understand the genre but this was cartoonish in a bad way and there was a way to play this character without going there) but I don’t think that was entirely his fault because 1) Ryan is a micromanaging director which means that what made it to screen is what Ryan wanted and 2) the character itself is poorly written so there was only so much Michael could play with.-It was too long and unnecessarily so. They could’ve shaved 20-30 minutes off that cut and taken out some really clunky bits to make it tighter. The movie would’ve been better served. -There were things in the world building that never quite came together for me but it’s also an adaptation so I’m assuming it’s more than likely either an issue with the source material or just simply things that are getting lost in the conversion from page to screen so I’m not holding the writers excessively responsible for it. I do have to take it into consideration when thinking about the film though. One of the big points that grated me from the moment the movie started till it ended were the accents. Please never ask Martin to do an American accent again in anything ever. Please and thank you. Also the Wakanda accents were confusing to me. It would make little sense for them to speak English in Wakanda when their civilization predates colonization so I’m assuming it’s like a Doctor Who thing where they’re speaking Wakandan or whatever the fuck language they speak in Wakanda and we’re simply hearing the “translation” for simplicity sake so why in the fuck do they have those ridiculous accents? If that’s what it is just make them speak non descript English. On the other hand if they are actually speaking English to each other then would English be the official language of Wakanda and if so why the fuck do they have those annoying, stereotypical accents? Idk…can you tell how much I hated the terrible accents? They were so off putting to me.
The 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽 things:-THE WOMEN IN THIS FILM. LORD HELP ME. Fabulous characters played to perfection by fantastic actresses. The little sister, Lupita, and the general were…ugh. Love them. Multidimensional character work by the writers infinitely enhanced by the insanely good performances these actresses brought to the table. How incredible the women in this film were makes how bad the men were even more glaring. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that Ryan wrote and directed both sets of characters when he nailed one but dropped the ball pretty hard on the other one. It’s so insane to me. -Rachel Morrison’s cinematography. This movie was STUNNING. That is all I have to say. A woman did that. -The flaws that the world building had in the narrative/theoretical sense, was almost overshadowed by the insanity of the artists that took the world they were given on paper then breathed life into it and converted it into the sublime, wondrous magical Wakanda we saw on screen. The production design, the costume design, and the hair in this movie was better than 95% of movies I’ve ever seen. The people behind those aspects were true masters at work and we all know that starts with Ryan. As both the writer and director of this, the anesthetic of the film was his brainchild and he killed it, dead, twice over. A writer and director’s work is only as good as the team they build tho and I’m telling you…the production designer, the costume designer, and the key hair person in this film are true artists in their field. I don’t have enough words to describe the love I have for the technical aspect of these three departments.
Those are three pretty big pluses and minuses. I’m sure you could assume the rest going off that.
As you know I had zero interest in the “superhero” aspect of the film but what I did enjoy was because of how human the women in this film were. I’d go watch the sequel if they killed all the men and the women ruled the world lol. We couldn’t stay for the credit scenes so I’m not sure how much they added to the narrative but I doubt they were earth shattering. Idk…I’m sure I’ll eventually figure out what they were.
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie review
Satisfying people is pretty damn hard. We all know you can never satisfy everyone; it’s just not possible, realistically. You can only hope to satisfy the largest number of people possible. And satisfying people with a grand finale to a beloved cartoon is even harder, because you need to wrap up all the loose threads, answer the outstanding questions, and bring the character arcs to a close. Shows like Avatar: The Last Airbender, Ed, Edd n Eddy, and Gravity Falls were able to do this really well, while shows like Danny Phantom, The Legend of Korra, and Teen Titans gave mixed to downright awful (that’s only in “Phantom Planet’s” case, don’t get your panties in a twist) finales. It’s fucking hard to do! And I can only imagine it is exponentially harder when you’re doing it for a show that ended without a conclusion fifteen years ago. But that’s what they finally did for Hey Arnold, the beloved Nickelodeon classic about a young boy in an urban setting getting into all manner of adventures with his colorful cast of friends. This story was over a decade in the making, set to wrap up the plot point of what actually happened to Arnold’s parents, a mystery that has haunted fans for years. And then finally, in 2015, we got word production was moving forward, after years of lost hope and acceptance that we’d never get the story. In 2017, it debuted on TV… was it as satisfying as a finale should be? Did this really live up to what it should be?
Oh fuck yes it did.
Look, I’m not gonna try and hide this, this was my most anticipated movie of the year, and while it isn’t the perfect film or the be-all-end-all of cinematic brilliance, it delivers a true Hey Arnold experience and gives us satisfaction and closure while still leaving room for more adventures. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves; you know what’s coming first! THE PLOT!
Set a year after the original series ended (try wrapping your head around THAT one), Arnold is having nightmares about never finding his parents. He has just about given up hope, until the day good ol’ Mr. Simmons announces there’s a contest that will give the winner the chance to go to San Lorenzo, the place where Arnold’s parents disappeared years ago. Arnold of course desperately wants to go, and with help from his best pal Gerald, his secret admirer Helga, and all the folks he’s helped over the series, he wins! But his grandparents tell him he’s only there for a class trip and not to go off looking for his parents… which Arnold sadly complies to, though he does try and look up his parents’ old friend Eduardo. All is not well, though; as Arnold soon discovers from Eduardo, there is a vicious South American pirate named Lasombra out to nab Arnold, believing that Arnold can lead him to a valuable treasure. Things get hairier from there as Arnold and the gang get held hostage by the pirates; can Arnold save his friends and find his parents, or is Arnold Shortman going to get cut down to size?
God it is so good to hear most of the original voice cast again! Yeah, Arnold and Gerald have new VAs since their old ones grew up (they do cameo in the film, though) and some had to be replaced due to their VAs dying since the show ended, but other than that… everyone is back! Maurice LaMarche is back as Big Bob, and just as much of a bullheaded jerk with a heart of gold as he ever was; Dan Castellanetta is still Grandpa Phil, and he’s still sharp as a knife after all these years (and now that I know who Castellanetta is, I can hear a great deal of Homer-esque delivery in Phil’s voice!); Tress MacNeille has returned as Grandma Gertie, and is as insanely entertaining as she ever was; Dan Butler brings the camp as Mr. Simmons, who is finally, in a brief but telling scene, confirmed to be gay; Nika Futterman and Kath Soucie return as Olga and Miriam Pataki, and most importantly, Francesca Marie Smith returns as Helga, voicing her without missing a beat, slipping into the role like a glove even after all these years!
And that’s not all, obviously, tons of the other kids and side characters have their voice actors return for this, and man is that just a big plus! And even if it’s only for brief cameos that have little bearing on the overall plot, god, it is so good to see characters like Pigeon Man and Stoop Kid again after all this time! This movie really delivers the fanservice, but not in a manipulative or cheap way; it truly feels like a culmination of the series rather than just going “Hey remember this?! Wasn’t that COOL?!”
As for new voices, the ones they got to replace do a fine job at replicating the voice actors they’re replacing while still giving their own flair. Mason Vale Cotton, the new Arnold here, is especially great, giving Arnold the perfect young boy voice and even delivering some surprisingly emotional moments. If they do bring the show back for another season, they’d better keep him on as Arnold, because they really got something special here.
I’d also be foolish to not mention the big name in the cast: Alfred Molina. He is playing the villain Lasombra, and god, you can just tell he is having the time of his life. Lasombra is one of the most magnificent bastards you will ever see in any Nickelodeon production, and he’s an actual, legitimate threat. Chillingly, he manages to rack up a body count over the course of the movie, using his own men as bait for traps. And while there’s no blood, you see people actually, legitimately die onscreen in this Hey Arnold movie. What the actual FUCK.
The plot is just as good as you’d expect, though the pace of it moves a bit quick at some points, and there are some pretty corny moments, especially during the ending portion where Arnold is required to do something very obvious but is freaking out about not knowing what to do. It’s rather dopey, especially since Arnold is probably the smartest kid in his neighborhood. And then there’s some gratuitous CGI usage... Still, I can’t say that there’s anything that particularly ruins the movie outside of nitpicks. Let me put it this way; there are elements of Big Picture Show, The SpongeBob Squarepants Movie and its sequel, and Channel Chasers that I don’t think work particularly well, but they certainly don’t keep any of them from being fantastic films in their own right. The problems with this movie are small, few, and don’t hold it back too much, or even much at all.
This movie is ever so satisfying. It’s everything a fan could have wanted out of a finale of the show, everything we could have hoped for. It has a great villain, as much of the original cast as possible, a good story, solid pacing, funny jokes, and an actual conclusion to the series that puts everyone where they deserve to be! I definitely recommend this, especially if you’re a fan of the original show. As my most anticipated film of the year, I was not let down at all. It may not be my most favorite, but damn if it isn’t the most satisfying!
More TV shows need to take note: this right here? THIS is how you end your show… though, with any luck, we may get another season out of this. If we do, I think it’s safe to say Nickelodeon is about to hit a new Renaissance era, what with this and Rocko’s Modern Life and Invader Zim getting TV movies (and possibly resurrections as shows). The timeline we’re living in is weird as Hell, but goddamn is all this making it worth it.
#Review#Movie review#Hey Arnold!#Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie#The Jungle Movie#Nickelodeon#TV movie#animated movie#animation
42 notes
·
View notes