#should i learn giffing for real maybe this will fix me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

oscarseyebrow · 3 years ago

Note

Here’s a prompt for you: 24 “Don’t mind if I do.”

Feel free to ignore this but I’m thinking AU Poe? Maybe something focusing on what his life would be like if he hadn’t joined the Resistanc? Thank you, love you 😘

gif by the wonderful @zoriis 💖

Rating: M Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader Word count: 5k Warnings: Drinking, language, smoking. AN: Song lyrics taken (and changed) from Never Had. Masterlist | Taglist

The cantina is heaving by the time you finally arrive - late, as per usual. It really isn’t your fault. Whatever your friends may say -- if you ever make it to the table -- it’s not your fault. For every task you’d managed to wrap up at work, two more came across the desk for you and Maker, you really need to learn how to say no.

Leaving work late is the domino to topple the rest, which somehow sees you almost an hour late as you turn sideways, trying to squeeze between two groups of people. It’s so fucking busy and you don’t want to be here.

Come for drinks! They had said in the messages being exchanged throughout the day. There’s some live music on tonight. They’d then added. After the week you’ve had, the thought of drinks is a delight -- but not the live music. Not the packed cantina, full to the brim with people. You should have known it would be like this. Yet, here you are.

Everything is so warm and clammy in the dimly lit room; the heat from all the bodies mingling with very little space to dissipate between the walls and the low ceiling. It’s the kind of heat that wets your skin and causes clothes to stick to a thin covering of perspiration. You can already feel it as the smallest beads begin to build on your lower back beneath your layers. And you’re so desperate to reach the booth and relieve yourself of your jacket, but now you’re trapped. The fabric caught between the two bodies you’re attempting to squeeze between.

“Excuse me,” You tug and tug at your jacket, but to no avail. “Hey, can you… Just…” Another tug and you’re free; the abrupt release causing you to stumble backwards and straight into someone else. There’s a sudden yell that’s quickly followed by a wetness filling your boot and your jaw is already clenching as you glance down, seeing the empty glass rolling away and the contents of it now soaking through to your sock. Fucking great. Yes, please, allow this night to become so much worse than you could have ever foreseen.

Really, there are no words. You can’t blame this guy, you were the one to stumble into him and knock his drink out of his hand. But you still feel the unjustified rage bubbling in your stomach while you glare daggers at him. Without saying anything, you fix your jacket from where it has slipped down over your shoulder and then trudge the rest of the way to the booth; the trail of single wet footprints being left in your wake.

“You made it!” Zee, a friend from your previous place of work, is the first to spot you as she gets to her feet to throw her arms around your shoulders for a quick hug. “What took you so long?”

“Work.” You groan and give her one of those exasperated looks before moving to take a seat beside the others, but you’re quickly stopped by the hand of another friend, not allowing you to move any further.

“Last one in buys a round of drinks.” He grins up at you, clearly a few rounds deep already. In an attempt to keep your thoughts to yourself, you press your lips together in a tight line and look between all of the glasses on the table. They’ve barely been touched. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.” He then shrugs and leans back in his seat, looking all too smug with himself. If only he knew the tight thread your patience is hanging from right now, he wouldn’t be sitting there looking so smug. Finally, your eyes sweep back over to Zee and watch as she gives you a small, apologetic shrug.

Right.

With a heavy sigh, you turn on your heel and begin the struggle of pushing your way through to the bar; that unjustified rage bubbling away again with every shoulder and elbow that catches you as you weave between bodies. Finally, the bar is in sight, it’s only a few feet away and that’s when you stumble; hands quickly grasping for anything within reach to steady yourself as you gasp loudly. It’s a stomach turning moment, much like misjudging the last step in the dark. You lose your footing and know the floor is going to be greeting you real soon.

Thankfully, a hand catches hold of your arm to steady you and guide you forwards so that you can brace yourself against the wet bartop. When previously thinking if this night could get any worse, it hadn’t been a challenge to yourself. Yet, somehow, another domino topples over as you straighten up and turn to give your thanks to the stranger who saved you from the embarrassment of falling down. Your mouth opens but your words stall, not quite making it out as you meet the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“I… Uh…” You stutter while drinking in the handsome face that’s still watching you with interest; eyebrows arching towards soft curls that have fallen free across his forehead from where his hair is swept back. Maker, he’s beautiful and all you can do is stare. “I…” You try again, but become very aware of the hand that is still holding your arm to keep you steady. A whole different kind of heat creeps across your skin now, adding to the warmth of the cantina while your eyes lower to the way his dark hair curls beneath his ear.

“Thanks.” You clear your throat, managing to force your unwilling words out. It starts as a hint at the corner of his lips, his mouth twitching ever so slightly while watching you before a smile finally curls over them. It’s a smile to light up a damn room. It’s vibrant and it radiates warmth as you watch the way his eyes crinkle, showing you how genuine this gesture is. Oh, you’re in trouble and your eyes are falling faster than you were only moments before. They come to land on luscious lips and that’s where they linger for maybe a second longer than they should -- they look so soft, so welcoming and they’re parting as he finally speaks.

“You doing okay?” Your saviour leans forwards a little as he asks that, allowing you to hear a voice that you swear drips actual honey. You should be embarrassed. But, you’re not. And for a fleeting moment, you find yourself smiling back at him, allowing him to captivate you and draw you in. It feels like the first genuine smile you’ve given since walking into this place, and you’re throwing it at a stranger you’ve just met.

“No.” You laugh, unable to help yourself. “I’m really not. I’ve been dragged here to see some shitty musician, I have someone’s drink swimming around inside of my boot and I have to buy a round of drinks because I’m late.” The man’s hand finally leaves your arm while he leans against the bar, keeping his body turned to yours now that you have seemingly caught his attention.

“Nice to meet you, Late. I’m Poe.” His hand extends towards you as he introduces himself and it takes you a moment for his awful joke to finally click. Oh. Stars. He’s witty as well as handsome. And as an automatic reaction, your hand reaches to take his, curious to know what his skin feels like as you shake it in greeting. Smooth, yet calloused. His palm holds a softness that his fingertips lack and you can’t help but wonder what his story is.

“That’s not-” You begin, as though considering correcting him and telling him your actual name, but you think better of it and simply shake your head with a small laugh. “You know what? Never mind.” Releasing his hand, you turn your attention to the bar and try to make eye contact with the server to let them know that you’re waiting. It’s so busy. You know this is going to take some time.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Poe doesn’t beat around the bush, does he? He’s straight in there, very forward with his offer while he continues to watch you long after your eyes have left him. But even as you stare at the coloured bottles behind the bar, you can still picture the jaw-line, covered with a few days worth of stubble which gives him a somewhat rugged look that counteracts the smoothness of his voice. And those lips. Full and perfectly even at the top and bottom. Your timing is all wrong as you finally glance back over at him and catch him licking at them after finishing his drink, waiting for your answer before ordering another.

You should go back to the booth. You’re here with friends, to see some live music and hopefully have some fun. But the longer you stand here, the more this offer seems much more appealing. They won’t miss you for one drink, will they? It can be quick. So you finally nod and force your eyes away from those lips, desperately trying to keep your face from showing everything you’re thinking right now.

“You can.” And so it’s decided. Tugging your jacket off, you’re hoping it helps with the heat and the way your hair is already beginning to stick to the nape of your neck, but it really doesn’t. It’s heavy and almost suffocating with all of the bodies packed inside of the cantina, yet, this man feels like a breath of fresh air. An attractive, bright, breath of fresh air and you’re desperate to breathe him in.

Poe makes a small motion with his hand on the bar and one of the servers walks down towards him, greeting him with a smile of familiarity. Interesting. This man appears to be known here, perhaps a regular - in any case, the two men know each other as they interact and Poe orders his drink first before turning to you so that you can do the same.

“Jet juice, please.” Poe watches you for a moment, silently storing that information to mind, or silently judging you from your drink choice, you’re not quite sure. But then his attention is gone and he slips the credits across the bar top to pay for the drinks. Even his profile is striking. You make yourself comfortable on the stool beside him while watching him, completely distracted from the chain of events that had brought you to this moment. It’s as though a domino in the line had fallen out of place, breaking the toppling effect to give you a break and as much as you don’t want to admit it, you find that you’re actually enjoying the evening now.

“So, why are you walking around with a drink in your boot?” Those dark eyes sweep back over to you again while Poe turns his head and after some consideration, his body turns, too. It’s now that you notice his shirt is open a button or two more than you’re expecting, revealing hints of a toned chest that’s covered in a light sheen under the lights. Maker, you can only imagine what his skin must feel like beneath your tongue. The warmth and the taste against the strong muscle while you drag it upwards along his throat -- no, stop. You need to stop. But you find that you can’t. Not now that your eyes follow the chain around his neck, right down to the ring that glints and glimmers against his chest.

Is he married? Was he married? You can only make up stories in your head about this stranger as you judge him based on what you can see.

“I bumped into someone…” You begin to explain.

“Do you do that often?” Poe’s response seems to bounce back instantly, the ball quickly falling into your court and keeping you on your toes in the most pleasant way.

“No, I got stuck. I mean, I got my jacket stuck. And then I stumbled and bumped into someone and…” You motion with your hands in an attempt to show him the way the liquid had fallen down your leg to fill your boot. His eyes practically sparkle as he presses his lips together in an attempt to keep himself from laughing at you.

“Don’t…” You warn him, despite a smile curling onto your lips again. “This is not a day to laugh at me, Poe.” There’s something that feels familiar in the way you speak his name, as though this isn’t the first time your mouth has formed the word. But, you can’t seem to place it. You’ve never met him before - That much you do know. You would remember someone this handsome.

“Is your sock wet?” The amusement drips from his voice now and he quickly glances back towards the bar as the two drinks are set down.

“Wet and sticky.” You laugh. Almost simultaneously, you reach for the glass at the same time as he does; your hand briefly grabbing his instead of the cold glass. The warmth is unexpected and not entirely unwelcome before you quickly snatch your arm back and throw an apologetic glance over at him. Somehow, you don’t think he seems to mind because he doesn’t flinch or try to pull back from the brief contact. Poe is still calm and collected as he pushes the glass towards you this time, helping you to avoid any further embarrassment. Why are you like this?

“Did you not think to take it off?”

“Take it off?” Your question doesn’t really answer his question as you take a sip of your drink and swallow down the bright liquid. It adds even more warmth to your body while it slides down your throat and seems to pool in your stomach, blazing a trail the whole way down. “I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.” You admit and then lick your lips to collect any lingering taste there.

That’s when you notice Poe’s eyes drop, almost in the exact same way yours had when mesmerized by his own lips. They seem to linger for a moment before he reminds himself to look back up to your eyes again, watching you with interest. You have his attention. And just to test that, you reach up to swipe your thumb against the corner of your lower lip -- his eyes instantly falling again to follow it. The initial attraction is no longer one-sided.

The sound of a glass smashing and cheering over the other side of the cantina breaks the moment as you both glance over, watching a group of friends laughing at a member of their group who had dropped a drink. Pity your boot wasn’t there to catch it. When you finally turn back to look at Poe again, he’s taking a couple of gulps from his drink; the muscles in his throat working with each swallow until he lowers his glass again. Look away. Look away. But all you can do is swallow thickly until he speaks again.

“Did you say you were here with friends?” That suave voice enters your thoughts and brings your attention to the present moment as Poe asks his next question, interested to learn more about you. He’s making easy conversation from the first thing you told him; your wet boot and the fact that you were here with friends to see some musician. Would you still rather be at home now?

“Yeah, they’re over…” You trail off as you sit up taller on the stool, attempting to look between heads and shoulders to spot your group in their booth. Eventually, you make eye contact with one of them and give them a small wave. “There.” Poe’s eyes follow yours to where more of them are looking now, pointing over at you and clearly having a discussion about the fact you're sitting at a bar with someone you’ve just met. You know, it’s not your usual style -- but there’s something about Poe that seems to draw you in after stumbling into his gravitational pull.

Poe also waves over to them and the look on Zee’s face is an absolute picture. You’ll fill her in about him later and how you ended up here.

“They look happy to be here.” He observes with amusement and he’s right. They really do. You’re not sure what they’re so excited about, but they’re practically buzzing as they talk amongst themselves while looking over at you again.

“They’re always happy to be here.”

“But you’d rather be at home?” Poe asks, as though he already knows your answer to that.

“Yes.” You tell him honestly and laugh again. “All day I’ve been thinking about drinking wine on my sofa and falling asleep.” Your truthfulness has him laughing this time and the sound is wonderful. It’s so rich and full of character as it rolls out from his chest, catching the attention of others around him. It’s a sound of happiness in its truest form; nothing forced, nothing fake - simply Poe enjoying the moment that he’s sharing with you.

“Yet, here you are.”

“Here I am.” You smile at him and take another sip of your drink.

“Willing to put yourself through the torture of listening to a shitty musician, just for your friends.” It’s you that laughs this time and you set your glass down, drying off the condensation against the side of your leg.

“You think he’s shitty, too?”

“Oh, the shittiest. Never seems to get any better.” Maker, he gets it. You’ve never actually heard the artist you’re here to see -- Hell, you can’t even think of the name now that you try, but Poe seems to understand. “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you came.” There’s such honesty laced with his amusement and it momentarily catches you off-guard; your laughter falling silent while you watch him with a lingering smile.

“Yeah… Me too.”

An easy silence settles as you take the time to look over Poe’s face again, picking up subtle details that you may have overlooked the first time. The peppering of greys in his stubble, a small scar on his cheek and the way his eyelashes seem to fan out right at the ends of his upper lids. Those striking looks make it difficult to avert your eyes when his meet yours, so you hold them for a few seconds and simply smile at each other, as though already knowing where this encounter is going to end up.

But the man behind the bar interrupts the moment all-too soon; his presence in your periphery also catches Poe’s attention as he glances over at him.

“Is it that time already?” Poe asks and finishes his drink without ordering another. There’s a sense of disappointment settling in your stomach at the thought of this man leaving before you’d really got to know much about him.

“Got a few minutes, but they’re ready whenever you are.” The man taps the bar top a couple of times and then leaves Poe to it. But he’s already straightening up as his eyes find yours again and before he can say anything, your mouth is blurting out words you weren’t intending to voice out-loud.

“Are you leaving?” As much as you try to play this casually, there’s still a hint of disappointment in your voice and you know that he hears it.

“I am…” Poe trails off and then throws you a grin; it’s different to the smiles you’ve been getting out of him and you suddenly find out why. “Got some shitty music to play.” It takes you a few seconds, but then something clicks. A light comes on so suddenly in your brain and you feel your mouth open, then quickly close again -- a motion that you repeat a few times as everything begins to make sense.

“You’re-”

“I am.”

“No…” You trail off, feeling the heat of embarrassment rush to your face and the back of your neck. “Why didn’t you say something?” Maker, you’re mortified. You’ve been sitting here, indirectly complaining about being dragged to see him. He’s the shitty musician.

“You didn’t ask…” Poe trails off, as though it’s the most obvious point he could make. “But it was worth it. Your face, a real picture.” And then he pauses, as though he wants to say something before thinking better of it. Instead, he quips, “I hope your sock dries out.”

“Yeah, me too.” You smile and watch as his lips curve upwards to return it; the genuine quality of it bringing that same sparkle to his eyes before he finally steps away to make his way through the crowd of people. Within a few seconds, he’s gone from your sight and you exhale a heavy sigh before laughing to yourself. Maker. That was embarrassing, in the best possible way.

By the time you make it back to the booth -- luckily, with no more accidents -- the first song has already begun. Seconds. That’s all the time it takes for the cantina to fall silent; everyone seemingly absorbed in the man who takes command of the whole room with only his voice. There’s no theatrics, no big show -- just Poe. Poe, his guitar and a soothing voice that washes over the crowd.

And you have to admit, he’s not a shitty musician. In fact, he’s far from it.

That melancholy voice stirs emotions inside of you that you weren’t expecting to feel tonight. They’re simultaneously heartwarming yet somber. His tones are gentle, yet rough. You’re no longer angry and frustrated at the events that had led to this moment; in fact, you’re far from it as you sit there with a soft, mellow smile on your face. Each song earns applause and sounds of approval from the crowd, causing the man on the stage to smile in the way that illuminates him brighter than the spotlight trained on him.

“There was no writing on the wall, no warning signs to follow... I know now, and I just can't forget... You're the best I never had.”

You can’t decide if it’s real or just wishful thinking, but it feels as though his eyes sweep across every so often to your direction, almost as if he still remembers where you had pointed out your friends to him earlier. You tell yourself that he’s not actually looking at you, not with all these other people in here who want to see him perform. But with each meeting of his gaze, it’s hard to convince yourself otherwise. It makes you feel almost giddy to think that in a cantina full of people, you still have his interest.

“In this motel, well past midnight... When I'm bluer than a bruise...”

It’s not a crush. It’s not. You’re not a kid, but it sure feels similar; it makes you smile and avert your eyes, it makes your stomach flip with a combination of excitement and longing to talk to him again. Maker, you want to be close enough to him to admire the way those eyelashes caress his skin with each blink, or the way his eyebrows raise to signal his amusement in conversation. You want to allow yourself to gravitate towards him again and lose track of time while appreciating the way he seems to listen to each word you speak.

But then, you swear everything momentarily stops. Everything around you becomes nonexistent, as though you’re the only person sitting there while your heartbeat kicks up a notch inside your chest.

“You come stumbling in, through the half-light, in your funny… wet boots.”

No, this isn’t a crush. In this very second, it’s a whole goddamn explosion of exhilarating amusement as you find yourself laughing out loud at the obvious change in Poe’s original lyrics. They don't even rhyme but they're about you. It’s endearing mockery and an attempt to draw you in. He knows that he has you because there’s a grin on his lips as he continues singing. Maker, how can one man be so kriffing charming?

Suddenly, you have a million reasons to be thankful you accepted the stupid invitation to come here tonight

You sit and listen to Poe’s captivating voice with a soft smile on your face, reveling in the intimacy he’s created between you with a simple reference to your shared joke. Despite the fact that this place is packed and he has a large audience hanging onto his every word, it almost feels like he’s singing for you.

As soon as the set is over, the bustle of the cantina resumes; everything becomes far too loud again. You can’t deny it, the good mood that you’re now in, mixed with the flow of drinks through Poe’s show has a relaxing buzz settling through your limbs while you try to keep up with the conversation going on in the booth.

“Another drink?” Zee motions to your empty glass that you’re still holding in your hand, having unknowingly finished it while distracted. You weigh your options and shake your head.

“No, thanks. I’m going to grab a smoke.” You politely decline and wait until she slides out of the booth so that you can follow as you pick up your jacket and slip it on. It’s still far too warm in there to be wearing layers, but you know the air outside carries a bite tonight.

Thankfully, your attempt to get out of the cantina is much more successful than the one getting in and you’re soon wrapping your arms around yourself as you step out of the way of the doors, trying to keep in some of the warmth you’d been willing to leave you earlier. Even from outside, you can still hear the muffled rumbles and voices coming from the other side of the wall. A faint smile settles onto your lips as you slip a cigarette between them and make quick work of lighting it up.

No sooner are you exhaling the smoke and watching it curl upwards towards the cloudy sky, than the door to the cantina opens again and there’s a momentary rush of warm air spilling out into the cold night air. Your eyes slide over and that smile begins to curl further onto your lips as you watch Poe look to his right, then to his left before he spots you.

“Hey, Late.” His movements are almost a copy of yours as he steps out of the way of the door and comes to stand in front of you instead. “Your friend said I’d find you out here.” Of course she did. Your eyes move over Poe’s face, noticing that some of the curls you’d been staring at earlier were now damp and clinging to the skin around his temples from where he’d clearly been sweating while performing.

“Had to make my escape…” You trail off and lean back against the wall while you watch him. “Could only take so much of that musician.” This earns you a laugh while you pull the small, compact tin from your pocket that has your rolled cigarettes inside and offer it to Poe. “Want one?”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Poe doesn’t need to step as close to you as he does while accepting one of your cigarettes, nor does he need to rest his hand against yours while dipping his head when you offer him a light, but he does. And the smallest contact of his hand brushing against yours creates the same tingling sensation as it had when reaching for the glass at the same time.

Poe frowns slightly as he takes a deep drag from the cigarette and then exhales slowly; his tongue licking at his lips, which momentarily distracts you from everything else. The lower one glistens in the lights strung up outside of the cantina and it takes every bit of self control you have not to step forwards and kiss him. And he knows it. It’s written all over his face while he watches you without saying anything.

An easy silence settles as you take turns drawing from your cigarettes; you, still leaning against the wall and letting your eyes drink in every inch of him while he stands before you, doing the exact same. Occasionally, you share a smile when your eyes meet his and hold him in a lingering gaze. He’s still just as handsome as the moment he caught you; his striking looks having stolen your words from you while you’d tried to compose yourself.

But now he was so much more. Charming, yet a tease, with a voice that could melt like butter and ooze a delightful softness. But there was something about him that was rough around the edges; a rugged energy that drew you in and made you want to know more.

“Do you want to grab some food with me?” Poe finally speaks after what feels like the longest time. Food? With this man? Your smile tells him your answer before you’ve spoken a word, yet you still take a few seconds to keep him hanging before you finally nod.

“I’d like that.” Your answer has that smile curling over his lips again as the corner of his eyes crinkle softly.

“Yeah, me too.” Poe throws your last words to him from earlier right back at you as he holds out his arm, and with the final drag on your cigarette, you discard it and push yourself away from the wall so that you can link your arm through his.

Maybe coming to see a shitty musician hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

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Taglist: @the-scandalorian @fett-ching @ohkarabast @salome-c @dinjarin-baket @meanperegrine @uncle-kenobi (hope you don't mind me tagging you, fellow poe hoe 💖) @the-little-ewok @mypedrom (didn't forget you this time sweetie 💖)

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x gn!reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x gender neutral reader #writing prompt #star wars fanfiction

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

Gold Rush ↬ t.h

Gif by @parkeraul :)

A/N: I'm in love with that song 🙈 also here's my super late contribution of professor!tom 😋 cause I've been procrastinating on the wandavision au (in my defence though, it's taking a lot of brainstorming 😂) anyway here you go-

Wc: 2.6k+

Warnings: lemme know if you find one :)

Summary: He taught British History and you chastise yourself for not auditing for that subject earlier.

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Waking up with a start, you groan at the shrill sound of your alarm. With a sigh that was more of a grunt of annoyance, you tried to reach for your phone at the side table, hissing when you felt the corner of your elbow hit the table, pain shooting up to your shoulder.

Great, you weren't even up yet and your day was already going shitty. You just hoped that your professor won't be grumpy about you being late for the millionth time this semester.

You hated cultural architecture. You had nothing against the course, but You hated your professor with a passion and wished that you could burn your textbooks for all you cared, right in front of your teacher's eyes, watch him writhe in fear as you banished the very existence of your material.

You were being dramatic, but in your defence, your professor was an old bastard who never left an opportunity to reprimand you, going as far as letting you know how uneven your margins were on your latest project.

He wore birkenstocks with a three piece. You wouldn't trust him with your assignments.

Getting out of your dorm room was work, hard work. But you got out, brushed your teeth and wore what you hoped were presentable clothing.

"You look hungover." Your roommate, Stacy, commented, spitting in the sink as you scowled at her.

She was straightforward, outspoken and somehow managed to look like one of those Victoria secrets models that you loathed, even at seven in the morning. You hated her.

(You didn't.)

"Thanks, I hope I smell too. Want that son of a bitch- what's his name, Wilson, to suffer for giving me that C minus on my thesis." You grumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair to flat them out.

"You really hate him, don't you." She snickered, popping off her shirt. You tried not to look, not wanting to come off as a pervert, but damn, she was fit. You contemplated her words, frowning at your own reflection.

You looked disheveled, the dark eye bags under your eyes very apparent as you tried to mask them with foundation, setting your hair for the millionth time. Oh well, you were presentable enough. Sweatpants would have to do for your only class today, you could binge Netflix after this wretched class.

"I do. I hope his third wife divorces him and he loses his thermos of coffee in the subway." You said, adding your look finally before wearing your shoes.

"That's cruel, didn't know you had it in you." She snickered, patting your back and following you as you closed the door, "Well I have to go to my boring science lectures now so, see you later hun."

"Yeah, enjoy your chemistry period with your boyfriend!" You cheered sarcastically, rolling your eyes and hugging her to tell her that you were only joking. Your relationship was this, of jokes and hugs and kisses. You considered her your best friend.

Rushing towards the gates of your university, you hastily tightened your loosening hair tie, adjusting the straps of your bags. You were pretty sure you had broken your record of being late to your class. You may hate the professor, but you actually enjoyed the subject.

Wheezing as you ran past the late comers, you nodded at the receptionist, hastily signing yourself in. You would blame your clumsiness for what happened next, because one second you were fixing your sande on the foot of the fountain, and next thing you knew you were crashing into a firm body, your nose hitting the random stranger’s chest.

"I’m so sorry! I’m kinda late to class and I wasn’t looking and- whoa, ow.” You rushed your words, groaning when you felt blood rush from your head to toe, nose throbbing with double vision, a reminder of your clumsiness.

“Whoa, hey calm down, it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either.” The stranger said, his thick South Western accent snapping you out of your self pity.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks instead, not anticipating your face in a flush this early in the morning, when you got a good look at the stranger. He was good looking, in his black high turtleneck and brown checkered pants. He had a small leather satchel clutched in his hands, face looking as flushed as you felt when you realised that you had been gawking at him.

He was probably no older than his mid twenties, making you wonder what he was doing in your university. He was too old to be a student, and too young to be a professor. But then again, you wouldn't judge him for joining college late.

Right?

"S-sorry, you um, you must be really late, you should go." He stuttered, your heart fluttering at his dimpled chin and thick accent. His eyes were gleaming in the morning sun, captivating in a way that left you in awe.

"Um yeah, I am." You nodded, composing yourself, hoping that you didn't look too sleep deprived or disheveled, "where are you going, if you don't mind me asking."

"Um, the architecture wing?" He said, unconsciously stepping besides you.

"Oh, I'm going that way. Is it your first time coming here? Haven't seen you around." You asked, trying not to stare at his sharp jawline and the way the morning sun hit him just right, illuminating and accentuating his curly brown hair.

"Yeah, it's my first lecture, so um, looks like I'm late too." He smiled. It was infectious, you noticed as you mirrored his expression.

"Oh, you're a student?"

"Actually, I'm a professor. Just transferred from UCL."

So you were right, he was a professor. He looks so young though. You thought, nodding at him, your thoughts interrupted by his laugh. Looking at him with confusion, you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, everyone says that. I started right after finishing graduation so, I guess I'm not much older than you." He smiled, kicking the small pebbles littered around the set grassy ground. It had just rained, the smell of wet ground still fresh.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" You smirked, ducking your head to hide.

"You did."

Entering the building, you realised that you hadn't asked which subject he taught, crossing your fingers and hoping that he would replace the old bastard that taught you cultural architecture.

"I forgot to ask, which lecture do you teach?" You asked, looking for your class in the end. The hallways were empty, it was way past your first lecture and all the students were already in the auditorium.

"Oh, uh, British History." He answered. You didn't let disappointment show too much on your face, smiling shyly before gesturing towards the class, "that's you."

"Oh, um thank you." He smiled, pursing his thin lips together as he walked towards the class. You could hear screaming of the students as you both neared the classroom, you still standing by the door, "I didn't get your name."

His question snapped you out of your disappointed gaze,

"Oh, it's Y/n. Y/n L/n." You said with a smile.

"Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom." He said awkwardly, before turning back to his class, who had yet to notice him.

"The pleasure's all mine Professor."

For the first time in your college life, you didn't feel like tearing your hair off during your lecture, your thoughts wandering around. You wanted to berate yourself for not paying attention, but your thoughts kept going there.

It was funny, how you met him not long ago and he was already taking up residence in your brain. You could not control your feelings after all. Something akin to nausea or excitement eased into your stomach when you pictured his smile, his black turtleneck that accentuated his biceps and pectorals. The little rebellious eyebrow and the tiny scar above it.

It made your heart flutter, everything seemingly seemed to stop around you. It scared you a bit, how You had managed to envision the little details of his face in your brain after such a short duration.

You didn't realise that you were smiling until you felt a nudge on your side, making you nearly jump on your seat.

"What?!" You hissed, scowling at your classmate.

"Who're you thinking about?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned towards you. You had known her long enough to know her name but never bothered learning, and you were too scared to ask now.

"It's none of your business." You muttered, glancing up to see your professor scowling at a student as they stood up.

"Well okay, but did you hear about the hot new professor? Apparently he's teaching British History, I regret not taking that as a subject now." She said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. You furrowed your brows, feeling a pang in your chest at the realisation that you were probably just another girl with a stupid crush on the hot professor, that there were already girls who would die to feel his touch.

"How do you know about him?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you try to act nonchalant. You weren't being subtle, apparently, because you could see her snapping her bubblegum with a smirk, leaning forward as if trading secrets.

"You kidding right? Everyone knows about him, you got a crush on him or something?" She suggested, scooting close enough to make you squirm.

"I literally just met him, and ew, he's a professor, why would I see him that way?" You whisper, willing your heart to stop palpitating at the thought of said professor, your gut twisting in anticipation.

"I don't know girl, he's hot and young and so much better than this bastard." She sighed, leaning on her palm with a fake dreamy expression.

You went back to ignoring her after that, noticing how her notebook said 'Eloise'. At least you didn't have to ask her her name now.

Your class went surprisingly well, or maybe it was because you weren't paying attention and thinking about him again. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

Walking out of your class, you decided to go to the cafeteria, your stomach begging for your attention.

Setting your things on a table, you took out your phone to scroll through Instagram, before switching it off and looking around the cafeteria. You didn't know what you were expecting to see, but your stomach was gurgling with hunger and nothing made sense when you were hungry.

Walking to grab something to eat, you pick up your bag, hanging it over one of your shoulders before getting in the line.

Just as you were about to turn with your bun and cup of coffee, you crashed into someone for the second time that day. Cursing your clumsiness, you heard a familiar British accent curse not very colourful words, making you stumble over as you tried to wipe off the hot coffee off his shirt.

"Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping your frantic gestures by holding your wrist with his to cease any movements.

"Professor Holland! I'm so sorry, it's like, I'm just clumsy. I have no excuse." You sighed in resignation, mentally facepalming at spilling your coffee at the hot professor.

"It's okay darling, I've had much worse spilled on me." He smirked, his hand still holding on to yours. You had started walking away from the location, and yet his hand didn't let go, "You know, I used to babysit during my college days."

"Oh, babysitting, right of course." You chuckled awkwardly, chest heaving with the sudden close proximity with the professor, dissipating the not quite PG thought that just occurred in your mind at his words..

"Sorry for-" You said in unison with him, chuckling.

"You go first." He said.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on You, it must have hurt and I ruined your shirt and now there's a big splotch of coffee right in the middle!" You said, circling your fingers around your palm as you walked with your back to the exit as you walked out of the cafeteria, food forgotten and him following your pace.

Before you could continue your awkward blabber, you were standing in the garden outside, leaning against a pillar with the garden in your view looking golden in the setting sun. He was standing in your view, the shadows around his jaw making it look sharp enough to cut glass.

Taking a breath, you looked up at his smiling form with confusion when he didn't answer, instead leant onto the pillar next to you.

"You were... gonna say something?" You reminded, smiling awkwardly as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Oh? Oh! Oh yes yes, You know, I was kind of disappointed that you weren't in my class, Mister Wilson talks very highly of you." He said, folding his arms on his chest, it made his biceps bulge.

"He does?" You looked at him with surprise, guilt panging in your chest when you remembered yourself bad mouthing the professor not long ago.

"Yes, says you're a bright student with a bright future." He answered, leaning his head back so that his neck was exposed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped, his hair falling into place perfectly against his forehead. The arch of his neck was beautiful, tracing it with your eyeballs as you imagined which other curves of his were as beautiful, immediately dismissing those thoughts, chastising yourself for thinking such a way of a professor.

"That's… sweet of him. I've never heard him compliment me once in the two and half years I've been in his class." You chuckle, leaning your elbow on the pillar to get a better look at his side profile.

"Hmm, he says he's hard on you because he wants you to do your best..."

You stopped listening past that, your breath growing more erratic the more he talked, his smooth voice washing over you like warm honey with a squeeze of lemon. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, your heart leaping, leaving you nauseous and in a dream like trance.

Tom noticed immediately, noticing your slouched posture as you stared at him with a small smile, the upturn of your lips so inviting that he almost dived in, wanting to know the feeling of them what they felt like against his.

He wasn't the kind to date his students, in fact, he rarely dated after joining uni and becoming a professor.

He strictly believed that student/teacher relationships should end in only a professional non romantic set up. That was all up until he crashed into you that morning.

You had been in his mind all day, stirring him crazy as he imagined your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your subject of interest, the say your fingers fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger.

He wondered if this feeling would last forever or become a vague memory, an attraction of hearts that didn't last but felt good till it did. If he was rushing, or if you even felt the same way.

He was smart, of course that's how he became a teacher, but he still couldn't place your feelings.

So when he saw you staring at him, his heart leaping in his throat at your adorable smile, the only logical answer his brain gave was that you liked him too. Temporary attraction or not, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in it's mouth.

Next thing he knew your lips were crashing onto his, your chest pressed against his firmly as your hands reached up to the base of his neck.

Your fingers were soft, tongue swishing against his as he opened his mouth to let you enter. His hands automatically reach for your waist, holding onto firmly as he slammed you against the pillar.

The sun was nearly down, the last of the rays hitting the garden, lighting you both up in a golden glow that left you breathless with a fire raging in your souls.

"What do you say that I audit for British history? I'd like to learn more lessons from you, Professor Holland." You said, breathless against his chest, hiding your nose against his sternum, blood rushing to your ears as his warm hand burned against the bare skin underneath your shirt.

"That would be great darling, anything to see your pretty smile every morning."

A/N: let me know what you think! :)

#tom holland x reader #professor! tom holland x reader #professor!tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x you #spideygirl writes

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Out Of Time ~ 141

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,200ish

Summary: Things start to get real. (gifs aren’t mine) PLEASE READ THE NOTE AT THE END.

“Now, you better be on your best behavior for your Aunt Pepper and Uncle Happy, alright?” Y/N said. She was kneeling down to Morgan’s level, brushing the little girl’s hair behind her ears.

“Alright, momma,” Morgan agreed with a nod.

“Daddy and I will call you every day.”

“Can’t I just come visit you? The—the com… compod… com—“

“Compound,” Y/N gently fixed with a smile.

“Yeah! It’s not too far away. I can come and help a wittle!”

Y/N sighed. “I wish you could, honey, but this is grown up stuff. Someday you’ll understand.” She pulled the girl into her arms, holding a kiss to the side of her head. “I love you, Morgan, so much.”

“Don’t tell daddy,” Morgan giggled, trying to whisper, “but I love you more than 3000.”

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed with mock hurt, coming onto the porch after packing the car. “I heard that.” He came and joined in on the hug. “But I forgive you.” He kissed the top of Morgan’s head before him and Y/N pulled back. “Don’t give Happy too much grieve, okay?”

“Okay, daddy!”

Tony leaned closer to Y/N. “If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to get going,” he whispered, placing a slight kiss near her ear.

“Okay,” Y/N whispered in reply. She leaned in and gave Morgan one last kiss on the forehead. “We’ll call you later tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too, momma and daddy,” Morgan responded.

Y/N and Tony stood up. She had an arm around his waist, holding herself close to him. Pepper and Happy came up behind Morgan.

“We’ll take good care of her,” Pepper promised.

“Thank you guys,” Y/N said before Tony led her to the car.

He opened the passenger door for her then got into the driver’s seat. Y/N waved and blew kisses to Morgan as they drove off. When they were too far away, she sighed into the seat. Tony reached one hand over and gave her knee a slight squeeze. They didn’t talk though, they were both too overwhelmed with what they were both headed to do.

~~~

Steve was standing outside, staring at the ground. His hands were on his hips as he looked beat. Bruce, Scott, Natasha, and himself had just tried to send Scott back in time, to no success. All they did was age and de-age Scott. Steve needed to get out of the hanger and clear his head. It had gotten his hopes up to bring everyone back, but it was looking like their plan wouldn’t be a possibility.

As a noise broke the silence, Steve looked up to see a car speeding towards the entrance. The car pulled over to him, passing him slightly, before reversing. As it backed up to stop in front of Steve, Tony rolled down his window to reveal himself and Y/N.

“Why the long face?” Tony asked. “Let me guess: he turned into a baby.”

Steve looked away with a slight smile on his face and a nod. “Among other things, yeah,” he responded looking back at the couple. “What are you two doing here?”

Tony got out of the car, Y/N following, and walked around to the back. “That's the EPR Paradox. Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might've wound up pushing time through Lang. It's tricky. Dangerous. Somebody should've cautioned you against it.” He leaned against the car as Y/N moved to stand beside him.

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Tony,” Y/N scolded quietly, knowing Steve did deserve the sass.

“Thank goodness we’re here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He held up his right hand, device on it. “A fully functioning Time-Space GPS. I just want peace.” He made a peace sign. “Turns out, resentment is corrosive, and I hate it.”

“Me too.”

“We got a shot at getting these Stones, but I gotta tell you our priorities: Bring back what we lost? I hope, yes. Keep what we got? I have to, at all costs. And... maybe not die trying will be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

Steve reached out his hand to shake, in which Tony took it. Pulling away, Tony opened his truck. He reached in to pull out Captain America’s shield. He handed it toward Steve, who didn’t take it.

“Tony… I don’t know,” Steve said.

“Why?” Y/N asked. “Howard made it for you.”

“Plus, honestly we had to get it out of the garage before Morgan took it sledding,” Tony added. “She’s been way too eager to take it out since she found out it belongs to you.”

With a light sigh, Steve took the shield, placing his arm in the straps. It had been too long since it had rested on his arms, seven years in fact. It felt nice to have it back.

“Thank you,” Steve replied.

“Will you keep that a little quiet?” Tony asked as he pulled out a few more things from the car. “Didn’t bring one for the whole team… we are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that right now. You guys might be able to be of some help.” Steve began leading them back into the hanger. “Who’s with Morgan?”

“Pepper and Happy,” Y/N responded. It was clear to the men that Y/N was feeling hesitate to do this and leave Morgan. “You’re going to have to join in on the call tonight. She’s upset she didn’t get to talk to you that much when you guys showed up a few days ago.”

“Y/N? Tony?” She heard Natasha gasp. Her friend quickly ran to her, engulfing her in a hug. “You came to help. Thank you so much.”

“Woah there, Banner,” Tony said, causing everyone to notice him studying Bruce, who had merged with the Hulk. “What did you do?”

“I know, it’s different,” Bruce responded. “But I finally found a way to live with both my sides.”

“That’s wonderful,” Y/N smiled. “I’m so happy for you, Bruce.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s the plan with the team though?”

“I’ve called Rocket and Nebula,” Nat explained. “They’re on their way. Once they get here, Bruce with go with Rocket to fetch Thor from New Asgard. Rhodey needs to finish up a few things before he comes. They should all be here tomorrow.”

“What about Clint? Is he still off the grid?”

“I’ve pinned pointed his location and am going after him tonight.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I think this is something I need to do on my own.”

~~~

Night had fallen and Tony had already started building a platform for the time travel. Natasha had left to retrieve Clint and Y/N was just finishing up her video call with Morgan.

“It’s time to go sleepy night-night, now Mo,” she told her daughter. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.” She blew a kiss.

Morgan blew one back. “Love you, momma!”

Y/N smiled softly as she hung up. Turning the phone in her hands, she looked around the bedroom she was sitting in. This old bedroom was filled was so many memories, good and bad. Y/N honestly never thought she’d ever come back here, again. With a small sigh, she pushed herself up from the bed and walked out onto the small balcony that was attached to the room. She leaned on the railing by her forearms and looked over the once bustling grounds of the compound.

“I thought I’d find you out here,” Tony said, snaking his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her neck. She jumped slightly. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“A little. I guess I was too caught up in my thoughts,” Y/N responded.

Tony rested his chin on her shoulder. “Care to share?”

“This place used to be so lively… even after the team broke. There were people running around and working hard. Now… now It’s empty. Too empty… I don’t want this to be the world Morgan grows up in. I want to her see busy streets and cheer in crowded arenas. I want her to experience what life should be like. Not this… this mess.”

“I get it… I want her to meet Peter. I can already imagine the chaos those two could cause.”

Y/N laughed. “Me too… And Harley.”

“And Harley… we have to get our boys back.”

“We have to. And not die trying.”

~~~

The next day, Tony and Y/N spent building the platform, while everyone else came and went, going about their assignments. Natasha left to get Clint, having got some concrete leads about him being in Japan. Rocket, Nebula, and Rhodey arrived. Rocket and Bruce quickly left for New Asgard to fetch Thor. Nebula, Rhodey, and Scott began thinking of suit ideas for the time traveling. Steve gathered together everything he could find on the Infinity Stones, the whole time itching to ask Y/N questions. He wondered if she knew more than they had learned from past experiences. And it wouldn’t surprise him if she did.

Rocket and Bruce arrived back with Thor first. It shocked the team to see Thor in such a state as he was. His hair and beard were long once again, and he had gained more than a few pounds. It saddened Y/N to know that this had all taken such a toll on Thor. Her and Tony really had been one of the few lucky ones.

Rocket quickly began helping Y/N and Tony with the platform. Which Y/N was extremely grateful for because she could only understand, or do, very little of what Tony was asking of her.

Thor was drinking a beer as he clumsily walked towards the platform. Tony was walking from behind Thor, dragging a long hose.

“Drifting left,” Tony warned Thor as he began to pass him. “On the side there, Lebowski.” He faced Rocket, who was working underneath the platform. “Ratchet, how’s it going?”

“It’s Rocket,” the raccoon corrected. “Take it easy. You’re only a genius on Earth, pal.”

“Thank you!” Y/N exclaimed jokingly, pointing at Rocket.

“Hey!” Tony exclaimed, a little hurt.

“I love you!”

Tony scoffed. “Sure.”

Y/N giggled as she came up to Tony. “I’m sorry,” she pouted slightly as she grasped his hand. “Forgive me?”

Tony sighed, rolling his eyes playfully. “I guess.” He gave her a light kiss. “Want to go check out how the suit is coming?”

“Of course.”

They intertwined their fingers and headed to where they were figuring out the suit. When they arrived in the room, Scott was in the suit with Nebula and Bruce working on it around him.

“How’s it coming with the thingamajigger?” Tony asked as him and Y/N walked over to the Scott. “What’s our status?”

“Now?” Bruce wondered. “Yeah, it’s just about ready.”

“Alright, let me see. Wow. Got a little Pym,” Tony pointed, “Stark styling.”

“Yeah.”

“And the, uh, noggin bubble, courtesy of, uh,” Tony turned to Nebula, “Rings of Uranus. What’s your troop called?”

“The Guardians of the Galaxy,” Nebula answered.

“We just need someone to test it,” Bruce said, as he grabbed some small glass tubes with a red liquid and started doing something to Scott’s suit.

“Time travel suit?” Rhodey questioned, walking in. “Not bad.”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Scott exclaimed, stopping Bruce. “Easy, easy!”

“I’m being very careful,” Bruce responded.

“No, you’re being very Hulky.”

“I’m being careful.”

Scott held up a red tube. “These are Pym Particles, alright? And ever since Hank Pym got snapped out of existence, this is it. This is what we have. We're not making any more.”

“Scott, calm down,” Rhodey advised.

“Sorry. We've got enough for one round trip each. That's it. No do-overs. Plus two test runs.” Accidentally pressing a button, Scott quickly shrunk and returned to his normal size. “One test run.”

“Shit, Scott,” Y/N muttered, shaking her head.

“Alright, sorry. I’m not ready for this.”

“I’m game,” Clint’s voice suddenly came from behind them. They all turned to look at him. “I’ll do it.”

He looked different. It wasn’t just his hair cut and his sleeve tattoo. It was his eyes. Clint had lost his wife and three kids. Y/N couldn’t even imagine what he was exactly going through.

“Clint,” Y/N gasped softly.

“Y/N,” Clint responded with a nod.

Tearing up, Y/N let go of Tony’s hand and quickly wrapped her arms around Clint’s neck, bringing him in for a hug. Clint didn’t hesitate to hug her back.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

“I’ve missed you too, Y/N/N,” he responded. He pulled away and looked back at the others. “Suit me up. Let’s do this.”

~~~

Tony and Y/N got the platform set up and gathered everyone while Bruce, Rhodey, Scott, and Nebula got Clint situated. As everyone slowly gathered and Bruce came to help Tony, Y/N stayed back and close to the wall. She had started to tremble at the thought of the time travel actually working and all that came a long with it. Her head had also started to get fuzzy. And, from past experience over the years, she knew that a seizure could easily be triggered. Steve had noticed at discretely came over to her.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“I-I-I… I don’t know,” she responded, shakily. “This all… what if it works? And… what if it changes things? I… I can’t lose Morgan. I-I can’t.”

Steve came around and cupped Y/N’s face with his large hands. “You are not going to lose Morgan. I will not let that happen, I promise.”

“You can’t control that Steve… you don’t know… I’ve seen things. I know things… something’s still coming.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head quickly. “I can’t say anymore. I can’t.”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t push this, Steve. I…” She swallowed, getting a tad dizzy. She gripped onto Steve’s arm, trying to keep herself steady. “I… oh…”

Steve held onto Y/N’s upper arms, noticing that she was struggling. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”

“Just keep me close. I’m not feeling so good.”

“Maybe we should sit you down in the other room.”

“No. I want to be here. I need to be here. Just wrap your arm around my waist and keep me close to your side. I don’t want Tony to worry.”

Steve gave in with a sigh before turning so that they were both facing the platform and wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist. Everyone else was at the control panel and Clint was taking his position on the platform.

“Alright, Clint,” Bruce said. “We’re going in 3… 2… 1!”

A helmet formed over Clint’s head before he went quantum. That was the longest minute of everyone’s lives. Y/N could barely breath as she stared at the space Clint once stood. When he finally rematerialized, Clint was on his hands and knees, breathing heavily. Natasha rushed up the platform, crouching down and cupping Clint’s cheeks. Scott and Tony rushed up onto the platform as well.

“Hey, hey,” she called. “Look at me. You okay?”

Clint held up a baseball glove and threw it at Tony. “Yeah, it worked,” Clint said. “It worked.”

Tony smiled triumphantly, holding the baseball glove, as he turned towards Y/N. She was the only one that didn’t seem excited. In fact, her complexion was off and her breathing pattern had changed. Tony knew what was about to happen before her eyes even rolled back.

“Rogers!” Tony shouted, surprising everyone. “Get her on the ground and on her side. Now!”

When Tony had called out to Steve, that was when her eyes rolled back and Y/N began to seize. Steve quickly did as he was directed, already familiar with the routine. The whole team quickly surrounded them, with Tony and Bruce pushing to the front to help.

“What’s going on?” Thor asked, confused and completely worried.

“She’s having a seizure,” Natasha responded. “She had a car accident a few years back, left her with some brain issues.”

“When was the last time she had one?” Steve asked as he kept his sister on her side.

“Probably a little bit over a year,” Tony replied, helping Steve.

They all let out a breath of relief when she finally stopped moving.

“Let’s get her to her bed,” Bruce suggested.

Tony picked her up. “I’ll handle it,” he said. “I’ll get her settled and then we can figure out a plan.”

They watched as Tony carried Y/N away.

“Steve,” Natasha called gently, looking at her friend. “What triggered it?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Steve asked, keeping his eyes on the pair as Tony walked away.

~~~

Y/N immediately knew what had happened the moment she opened her eyes. She was laying in her bed, all tucked in, and Tony was sitting next to her, reading something on his tablet.

“How long have I been out?” Y/N asked, voice slightly horse.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Tony said, placing his tablet down and turning to face her. “You had us all worried.”

“Sorry.”

“What happened?”

“I was just thinking about… well, everything… and I guess I stressed myself over the edge.”

“Maybe you should go home, stay with Morgan.”

“No. I need to be here.”

Tony pursed his lips as he studied his wife. He definitely didn’t like the way she emphasized need. “Why? Why do you need to be here?”

Y/N sighed and closed her eyes. “You know why.”

“No, I really don’t. You’ve always been so vague around your destiny and the Stones and shit. Just tell me what’s going on. What do you know?”

Y/N tossed her covers off and sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from Tony. “I can’t say Tony.”

“Like hell!” Y/N stood up, walking onto the balcony with Tony following. “If you’re scared of the Stones, no need. They’re gone, Y/N. You felt that yourself.”

“You don’t understand… Things could still happen and I can’t have more lives on my hands than I already do.”

“Y/N, what happened is not solely your fault.”

“But it is. I was tasked to save everyone. And I failed…I failed Wanda, I failed Vision! I failed Peter! And Bucky!”

“Bucky,” Tony scoffed. There had always been a question lingering in Tony’s mind, fighting for an answer. But he was too frightened to know the truth. Until now. He had to know. “Are you still…” He studied Y/N for a quiet moment. “Are you still in love with him?”

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

Ending 1: It’s Always Been You >

Ending 2: I’m From Brooklyn, Too >

I hope this wasn’t complete crap. And I couldn’t wait to post this! I know I’m on a break, I just got too excited about getting to the 2 separate parts!

I would love to hear your theories/hopes for the endings! I would love for everyone to read both, especially because they’ll take on Endgame very differently!

Also, my tag list is struggling to work. So please be patient with me. Also, Chapter 140 did not get a tag list because tumblr is the WORST right now and hates me and kept deleting it. So, again, please be patient with me. I’m just a human trying my best.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

OUT OF TIME TAG LIST:

@paintballkid711

@cherthegoddess

@capstopavenger

@tommy-holland (won’t link)

@marinettepotterandplagg

@bestofbucky

@demidia

@maia030 (won’t link)

@thatrandomcatoverthere

@xwackk

@idkanymoremansstuff (won’t link)

@loveisallyouneed1125

@jasbins

@thewidowsghost

@pukklv

@thegayseance

@allonszassbutt

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@superunnatural23

@fangirl-swagg

@ihavenocontrolofmylifeeither

@laic2299

@lilred254

@livinglikebritishroyalty

@azure23x

@sammyrose222

@taina-eny

@mallyallyandra (won’t link)

@paintmekala

@booksarebae2000

@supernatural-bangtanboys

@a--1--1--3

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@supernaturallover2002

@loveyou3000tonystark

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@radicaljoy

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@bihoeofmanyfandoms (won’t link)

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@i-dumb-bitch

@osugahunnyicedtea

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x rogers!reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #avengers endgame #endgame #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #tony stark #morgan stark #morgan stark x reader #morgan stark x mom!reader #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #tony stark imagine

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Note

OK, After Reading the Dragon Story (wich is Just so, so cute!) I have to throw this GIF at you and maybe you could write a little Thing about it top?

Hi Araglas1989!

I love the cervitaur gif, super cute!

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“There’s something in the woods,” the alderman said.

No shit, Geralt thought. Deer, hedgehogs, rabbits, maybe a Kikimore at worst.

“Have you seen signs,” he said instead. “People taken, children disappearring?”

“Nay, nothing like that, but houses are broken into, at first we thought it was animal scavengers but some o’ those doors need hands to open.”

“And what made you think it was animals, then?” Geralt was trying very hard not to use his talking to stupid people voice.

“It broke into the mill,” the alderman said darkly. “And flour was all strewn about the floor. There’s locks on the mill, latches, but on the floor, all the prints were hooves.”

Cervitaur, Geralt’s mind said.

“A devil!” Raged the alderman. “Or witches! Our town is beset by evil spirits, intent on stealing our food!”

“Right,” Geralt said. “I’ll take care of it.”

He made a purchase in town then led Roach to the woods and tied her up in a glade with grass and even a little sunshine. Then he sat down and opened his pack, setting out a cloth and pulling out his purchase.

Sugarred, candied ginger. Cervitaurs were distant relatives of fauns, and anything even close to a faun had a sweet tooth. This one was probably starving too, if it was willing to go into a village. Odd, since most wild cervitaurs knew how to forage.

He took a nibble of the candied ginger. For his witcher senses, it was a bit much, but he made happy “hmmm yum” noises.

Geralt was an impressively bad actor, he knew, but he was really hoping this would work, rather than properly tracking the cervitaur and probably scaring him half to death.

There was a rustle in the bushes, and it sounded bigger than a rabbit or fox. He set the little twist of paper with the ginger on the cloth he’d spread out, tilting it so some spilled out. Then he stood up, going over to Roach and running his hands through her mane.

There was another rustle. Geralt waited, breath bated and sensitive ears perked. Grass crunched under a hoof, a second, and then another hesitant hoof.

“I’ve heard that witchers don’t like to kill sentient creatures,” said a voice. Geralt turned.

A very thin cervitaur was in the clearing, he wore a stained blue doublet and there was a lute strapped across his back.

Geralt pointedly set his swords down, “No, we try not to, unless we have no choice.”

The cervitaur hesitated. “But you laid this trap for me?”

“Less trap,” Geralt said. “More an offerring. I figured you were hungry, most of your kind wouldn’t go near a village for less than starvation.”

The cervitaur knelt, in the funny way deer do, by the cloth, but didn’t take any ginger. Geralt sat on the opposite side of the small cloth.

“It’s not poisoned, then?” said the cervitaur, his eyes barely leaving the candy. He really was very thin, knelt like this Geralt could count every rib.

Geralt pointedly took another tiny bite, “No,” he said.

“You eat it like it is,” the cervitaur said, but he picked up a cube of ginger.

“Witcher senses,” Geralt said ruefully. It’s a bit much for me. What’s your name? I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘the cervitaur’.”

“Jaskier,” came the reply, slightly muffled as he unslung his lute from his shoulder. There was dappling on his back, but his face was that of a young man, quite a handsome one, really.

“You still have spots,” Geralt said. “You aren’t a wild cervitaur?” Only young ones or cervitaurs who often transformed into humans kept their snow spots.

Jaskier took a careful bite of ginger, then hummed in delight and took the whole cube into his mouth. “Yeah,” he said around the ginger. “My mum was a cervitaur too, but she bought a glamor from a sorceress and fell in love with my dad, then she had a glamor made for me.”

He ate another ginger cube, but Geralt took some hearty bread from his pack and cut it, preparing to listen. It was obvious Jaskier needed something heavier than candy.

“I never learned to forage, and since I mostly looked like a human, I didn’t understand why I should learn.”

Geralt hummed. A glamor could transform a cervitaur, already magical, into very nearly human, but in the real form they needed to eat like both deer and humans. Jaskier would have probably gotten by okay on grass but his human half needed real nutrients, without knowing how to find nuts and berries, he would have starved.

“So you broke into the grain store,” he said, handing Jaskier a slice of bread.

“Yes,” the lad looked shamefaced. “I didn’t want to steal but I can’t just walk into town, my glamor wore off.”

“Show me.”

“Jaskier pulled a little silver band from his finger and dropped it into Geralt’s outstretched hand. The witcher examined it carefully, looking at each of the runes. There was a long scuff through one.

“I might be able to fix this,” he said. “Temporarily at least, but that’ll do until we get you to a sorceress.”

Jaskier watched, chewing contentedly, but his eyes never leaving Geralt, as geralt pulled a silver needle from his pack. He lay the needle on a stone and heated it with igni to red heat, wincing as he picked up the sliver of metal in his fingers. He scratched the last symbol back onto the ring, dropping the needle when it was done.

“You’re burnt,” Jaskier said, reaching out for Geralt’s hand, looking at the line of blisters where he’d held the needle.

“It’ll heal in an hour,” Geralt said, proferring the ring. “Try it on.”

Jaskier slid the ring onto his middle finger and he was sitting crosslegged in the grass, some rather tattered trousers on. There was a hole in the bottom of one boot.

“They thought you were a devil, you know,” Geralt said. Jaskier chuckled, then looked regretful.

“I suppose they wont pay you now,” he said. “You have no proof.”

Geralt sideyed him. “Depends, how good of an actor are you?”

Jaskier grinned and popped some ginger into his mouth. “You have no idea.”

Thirty minutes later a dirty, thin bard stumbled into the village.

“Vanquished!” he cried, “The devil is dead! I was captured in his lair, I saw it all!”

The young man was charming, and had been through a horrible ordeal, and as he sat in the tavern and told --and sung-- the tale of how the noble witcher, the white wolf, had fought a devil to free him, the townspeople were entranced. Food and drink was sent his way by sympathetic townsfolk, Geralt even got sent a couple heaping platefuls, and ale was on the house.

Traveling with a bard mightn’t be so bad, he reflected. He nudged Jaskier, though, when he started to absentmindedly lick salt straight from the shaker.

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manndo · 4 years ago

Text

i see you [din djarin x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader (no descriptors, no y/n)

warning[s]: slight angst, fluff, kissing, mentions of arousal (barley there & nothing really descriptive) and ridiculously canon divergent (see notes).

word count: 4.0k

prompt[s]: from this list, based off the prompt ‘overhearing they have feelings for you’

summary: you just wanted to tell the child a bedtime story, and apparently, you had something you needed to get off your chest. but you weren’t aware you had an audience besides the child.

author’s notes: alright, for the last day of 2020 (i’m still in 2020 over here, unfortunately), i’ve decided to take a leap of faith and post my first mandalorian fic! i started writing this before episode 13 of season 2, before we learned the child’s name and way before the separation (i am still recovering from the emotional strain of this ending). and obviously, i didn’t finish it until now -- almost two weeks after the last episode. so, as i mentioned in my warnings, this is canon divergent -- basically anything from episode 13 to 16 did not happen in this fic. so, this means that grogu is referred to as the child/the little one/the kid in this fic. in the future, i am hoping to write more canon friendly fics, but who knows?? the season finale was bittersweet and honestly?? i just want my dad/son duo back together. 😢but anyway! any and all mistakes are my own. please feel free to comment/like/reblog, whatever you see fit. enjoy! ❤️and goodbye 2020, hello 2021! 🍻

You were tinkering with a malfunctioning blaster down in the hull when you heard him. At first, the cry was soft, barely there — perhaps Mando had said or done something to irritated him while they sat in the cockpit together. However, after another few moments, the cries grew louder and longer. Carefully, you set the blaster aside, and wiped your hands on the cloth next to you before pushing yourself off from your seated position on Mando’s bunk. Within seconds, you were climbing the ladder and entering the cockpit to find Mando standing from his seat, holding the child away from him as the child wailed. Immediately, Mando lifted his head toward you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be watching him?” he asked, a hint of irritation in his modulated voice. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could imagine the glare he was giving you.

You sighed heavily, shaking your head, and took two steps forward to grab the child from Mando’s outstretched arms. Unfortunately, the child did not stop his crying. You tucked him against you. “Technically, yes. That’s what you hired me for, but you know this little one has his ways of sneaking around,” you muttered, reaching out to grab the little one’s tiny hand. Even through his wailing, the little one’s finger immediately wrapped around your thumb. You hummed soothingly and began to gently bounce him, keeping your eyes trained on him. “And, it wasn’t like you were complaining ten minutes ago when he was being a perfect little angel,” you mumbled, rubbing your thumb gently over the little one’s finger and looked up to Mando. Mando snorted, but said nothing as he sat himself back down in the pilot’s chair, and turned himself away from you. You knew he didn’t need to be there — the Crest was in hyperdrive and most likely on autopilot — but, you found he preferred it to other parts of the ship. Then again, when you’re always on guard like him, well, it made sense to be in the cockpit.

“He’s probably just tired, Mando,” you said, glancing away from him and back to the child, who was, thank the Maker, not wailing anymore. However, he was still crying, still taking in big breaths and looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. “Just needs a little nap. Ain’t that right, little one?” The child gave you a sniffle, and hung his head. “Come on,” you said quietly, giving the child’s finger a little squeeze, “let’s get you tucked in.”

You turned on your heel, and carefully made your way down to the hull once more, all the while whispering comforting words to the child in hopes to quell his cries. It seemed to work — for the most part. He still seemed upset, even if he wasn’t really crying anymore. More like, sniffles and whines. But, he was still restless against you. Even if he was overtired, it was clear he wasn’t too keen on actually being put down because the moment you had set him into the makeshift, hanging bed that Mando had crafted for him, he tried to pull himself out. “Ah, ah, little one, don’t you even think about it,” you reprimanded him softly, pushing him gently back down into the swinging bed. He let a small whine in disagreement, but didn’t try moving again.

“Maybe I should tell you a story,” you said, your voice low, calm. He blinked at you, his eyes still looking a little watery, and gave you another small whine. You began to rock the bed. “You know, I don’t think I’ve really told you any stories since I came on this ship,” you said, reaching up and running a finger over his ear, from base to tip. He made a small coo of happiness, and you smiled. “Granted, it hasn’t been that long since your dad hired me, has it?” You’d only been traveling with them for six months, give or take. You still sometimes had to, metaphorically, pinch yourself that this was your life now — galavanting around the galaxy with a Mandalorian and his charge.

You felt a small push against your finger, which had been resting on the tip of the child’s ear, followed by a small whine. You let out a short chuckle, and moved your finger, running it over his ear again. He leaned into the touch. “You know, the first time I saw you and your dad, I didn’t know what to think. I’d never met a Mandalorian before, but I knew of them, knew the stories of them. Who hadn’t?” You moved your hand from running to over his ear, to the top of his head. He cooed softy, eyes fluttering closed. “But, what surprised me the most was you, little one. Not because I had never seen creature like you. No, that wasn’t it. It was because you were with him. A Mandalorian and a child,” you whispered, noticing that the little one’s eyes were only half open now. You gave the top of his head a small scratch, and his eyes closed completely. “Even if you are older than both of us,” you added, a small chuckle escaping your lips as his eyes opened again, a bit slower than last time.

“It’s funny,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes trained on him. You watched as he snuggled himself a little deeper into his bed. “I never would have thought that one minute, I’d be fixing a blaster your dad needed repaired, then the next being on his ship, taking care of you.” A brief pause. “You know, he saved me, little one?” You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed it. “Life hadn’t been easy when you two came around. Sure, I had a roof over my head and enough credits to keep me fed. But, it had been a lonely life.”

You took a deep breath. “My parents had been gone for a few years, and I had no siblings to seek comfort in. I worked for a nasty man, who liked to belittle me every chance he got, even if I was a better technician than he was. I had a few acquaintances, a few people I’d chat with every once in a while, maybe grab a drink with them at a cantina, but I didn’t have any real friends,” you paused. “Well, I did. At one point. But, things happen.” A heavy, dejected sigh escaped your lips. “People change. Life changes.” Absentmindedly, you ran your finger down the child’s cheek. His eyes were now half-open, the child hell bent on staying awake. Stubborn, like his father for sure. “But, now I’m here. And, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” You pursed your lips in thought. “Well, it would be nice to have a larger, more comfortable bed. But, then I wouldn’t have you, and I wouldn’t have your dad.” The little one cooed quietly, and you chuckled pulling your finger from his cheek.

You became silent then, let yourself just watch the little one. He was settling nicely into his bed, looking more relaxed, his eyes staying closed. It should have only been a few more moments, and he’d be asleep. Just a few more moments and he’d be resting peacefully, and you could go back to working on that blaster. Just a few more minutes.

“I love him, you know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. It was only when you heard the little one coo that you realized that you’d said that out loud. Your eyes widened as you took in the little one, his own eyes now open once more. He was looking at you, head titled slightly, big brown eyes focused on you. He blinked once, twice as if he was waiting for you to elaborate.

Fuck, you hadn’t planned to say that out loud. But you had — to the little one, no less. Sure, he couldn’t tell Mando what you’d said, so that was an advantage. But, Maker, what were you thinking?

You had only just admitted to yourself you were in love with the Mandalorian. You had spent weeks denying your feelings. After all, you hadn’t known each other long, there was no way you were actually in love with him. It had to be, you figured, because of your living situation — you two were in constant contact with each other, barely any room for privacy or time alone. He was the only person you could hold a full conversation with (not that you didn’t have conversations with the child, but it was very one-sided). So, maybe, it was just the situation. It had to be. But, as the days passed by, you realized that wasn’t the case. You had fallen for the Mandalorian. You were in love with him. You were in love with Mando.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes, and let your head fall into your hands. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, little one,” you said, the words slightly mumbled against your palms. “Nobody was supposed to hear that. And, especially not your dad — not that I don’t want him to know, I do. But, we haven’t been together long — in the sense of me being on the ship, you know — and I fear it will make him distant again. He was so distant when I first came aboard, but now.” You let out another heavy sigh, and move your hands away from your face to glance up at the little one. He has pulled himself up to look over the edge of his makeshift bed, his tired eyes looking down at you. There is a sad look up on his face, his large eyes searching yours. “I don’t know exactly how he feels, little one. But, I’ve seen his heart. You’ve seen his heart.” You paused and took a breath. “It’s in the little things. The way he sits with you when he flies. How he tries to teach you things — even if they backfire in his face,” you said, and a smile crossed your lips. The child gave a small tired little giggle. “Making this bed for you,” you said softly, reaching up and running your fingers over the material. “Making your little pouch. All those things, and more, show me his heart, show us his heart.” You leaned forward and pressed your forehead gently against the child’s. “He would do anything to keep you safe, little one. Anything. And that, makes him a good man.” The child let out a soft sound, and you pulled away from him, a soft smile on your lips.

There was a brief silence that settled between you. You let it hang in the air for a brief moment before speaking again. “Alright, come on, you need to go to sleep now. Apparently, trying to tell you a bedtime story is not the way I should go,” you said with a small chuckle. The child gave a small whine. “Don’t try and fight with me. We both know you’re tired. So come on, close those big, beautiful eyes,” you said, your voice dropping in volume. His eyes fluttered closed, and you reached out your fingers, letting it brush against his tiny hand. “There you go,” you muttered, continuing to brush his little hand with your finger in a soothing gesture. His eyes stayed closed, and his body seemed to relax into his bed. Another few moments, and his breathing had evened out, and you knew he was finally asleep. You let out a small sigh of relief. “Sleep well, little one,” you whispered, and with on final brush to his hand, you stood up from the bunk. You pressed the switch, shutting the bunks door with a small clink. You had barely turned away from the door when you heard a loud thunk, and found yourself coming face to face with Mando.

“Maker!” you yelped, practically jumping out of your skin, hand slapping against your chest. You could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage as you looked at Mando with wide eyes. “Mando,” you said, voice slightly out breath as you pressed your hand a little harder to your chest, physically and mentally willing your heart to slow down. “You can’t — fuck, you scared me. You’re lucky I closed the damn door before you did that. What if he’d woken up? I had a devil of a time getting him to sleep, you know,” you muttered, hand falling from your chest and back to your side.

“Did you now?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his tinny voice. You furrowed your brow, as he took another step closer to you, his beskar helmet only a few inches away from your face. He titled his helmet, and you could swear, if he didn’t have it on, there would be a smirk on his face. You felt a twinge of panic fill your face — had he, had he heard you? You mentally shook your head of that thought. You were being paranoid.

“I did,” you huffed as you turned away from him, taking a step toward where you had left the malfunctioning blaster.

“Maybe if you hadn’t talked so much,” he muttered, and you felt your entire body freeze, “he might have fallen asleep faster.”

It felt like you couldn’t breathe. Blood was rushing in your ears. Maker, he heard you. He heard you blabbing your feelings, you feelings for him, to the little one. The quick landing, the sarcasm you had heard— it all made sense. He had been there, above the two of you, listening, hearing every word you said. Your confession. You felt yourself begin to get warm with embarrassment, and you willed your body to move. You wanted to run, but where could you run? You were on a ship, in the middle of space — there was no where to go. Nowhere to hide.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breathe before you slowly turned back to face Mando. You didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was staring at you, but Maker, did you wish you could see them. Wish you could see his face. Maybe then you could tell what he was thinking. Did he feel something too? Or, was he disgusted at the thought of you having feelings? Was he about to dismiss your feelings, maybe even drop you off at the next inhabited planet, leaving you there. Leaving you alone, again. No Mando, no kid. You swallowed that fear, those thoughts. “Listen, Mando, I—”

“Close your eyes.”

You blinked in confusion. “W—what?

“Do you trust me?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“Then, close your eyes. And, promise me, you won’t open them.” You blinked, too stunned at his request to answer immediately. His gloved hand wrapped around your wrist, a barely there touched. “Promise me.” It should have been a demand, but it came out more as a desperate plea.

You looked down at the hand gently holding your wrist, then back at the beskar helmet in front of you. “Yea,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper, “I promise. I promise,” you repeated. There was a moment of stillness where neither of you moved before you took a slow, deep breath and let your eyes fall closed.

You felt Mando let go of your wrist before you heard a clicking sound, followed by a soft hiss. It was followed by a loud clink of metal against the floor of the ship, near your feet, you thought. Then, there was a gloved hand on your cheek, the fabric rough against your skin. You felt the brush of his thumb over your cheek, and your breath hitched in your throat. “Mando, what are—”

The end of your question was gently swallowed by his lips.

Maker, you had not expected this. Immediately, you had wanted to open your eyes, because you weren’t sure this was real. Was he — was Mando really kissing you? But, he was kissing you. His soft lips were pressed against yours, not bruising, but not gentle either, and it didn’t take long before you felt his tongue swipe across the seam of your lips, seeking permission. You parted your lips with ease.

At the first slide of his tongue against yours, a small whimper escaped your lips, your hand darting out as you blindly grabbed at his shoulder. You fisted as much of the material of his undershirt in your hand while the other part pressed against the cool beskar, and tugged, pulling him flush against you. You felt, more than heard, him groan when your bodies met, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your jaw while his other arm wrapped around your middle, holding you against him. You could feel warmth spreading in your limbs, and an excitement you hadn’t felt in a long time filling your veins and culminating between your legs.

You would have kept kissing him, would have let yourself suffocate in his kisses, but a few seconds later, you felt him begin to pull away. Before his lips could leave yours completely, you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, giving it a quick nip. And, fuck, the sound that came out of his mouth. You felt another spike of arousal course through you, and you almost, almost opened your eyes. But, you promised you wouldn’t, and you knew what it meant if you did. So, you forced yourself to keep them closed as you tried to regain control of yourself, your hand still clutching his shoulder.

There’s a moment where the two of you stand there, your breath mingling with one another as you both tried to calm your racing hearts. But, it is brief, and before you know it, the hand that was resting on your cheek falls, and the arm around your waist loosens and you feel him step away. Immediately, you want to pull him back to you, bring his lips back to yours. But, you don’t. You’re frozen once more — in fear, in shock, in elation, you’re not quite sure.

You took a shuddering breath. “Mando—”

“Din,” you hear him say, and it sounds pure, smooth. It’s then you realize the helmet is still off. You can’t help the butterflies that form in your stomach at the sound of his unmodulated voice. His voice. It sounds like liquid gold to your ears. But then ,you hear the sounds you heard before he kissed you, the click and hiss, of the helmet falling back into place.

You wait a beat before you let your eyes flutter open, and you come face to face with the beskar helmet once more.

“Din Djarin,” he repeated, and reached out, brushing one of his gloved fingers down your cheek, over your jaw, and stopping at the nape of your neck. “My name is Din Djarin.”

His finger began to draw an absentminded pattern across your shoulder. You could tell by the tilt of his head that his eyes were focused on that finger. That finger that kept moving as the moments ticked by, never stopping, never making any sense against your skin. For the first time since you’d met him, you could tell he was nervous.

You knew he didn’t tell his name to anyone. You had asked when you’d met him what his name was. He had told you to call him Mando. You had thought it odd, but did not think it was your place to push him (you had only just met him, after all). So, you called him Mando, as did everyone else you had come in contact with. But, four months later, you decided to finally push the subject. He told you that he had not used his birth name since he was a child, since he was sworn into the Creed. There were only a few who knew name, and only due to an extenuating circumstance, he had said, making it clear he did not tell anyone. Nobody should have known his name — and from what you could tell, he had no plans of telling any one in the future.

But, here he was, standing in front of you, telling you his name. Willingly giving you this piece of information about himself. You knew he couldn’t show you his face — not yet, not now — but he could give you this. He could give you this part of himself. If the kiss wasn’t enough for you to know that he felt something for you, this sealed the deal. It wasn’t an outright “I love you”, but to you, it was something more, something deeper than that. This was him trusting you, him giving you a part of himself. It filled your heart with joy.

“Din,” you whispered, letting the name roll of your tongue, and filling the space around you. His finger had stopped its’ random movements, and his head tilted up, and you were face to face with the all too familiar beskar helmet. You smiled softly and wondered if he was smiling behind it too. You reached out, and let your fingertips dance over the cool metal. “Din Djarin,” you said, letting yourself try out his full name.

It was beautiful. It was him.

“It suits you,” you said, resting your palm against the side of his helmet. “I love it.”

Din let out a small, breathy, modulated chuckle. “You do?”

You nodded. “I do, cause it’s you.” You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet, your eyes fall closed. “And, I love you, Din Djarin,” you whispered softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. You wished you could have seen his face, but instead, you heard an intake of breath before you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, hand splayed over your hip. His gloved fingers pressed into your hip bone.

“You mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hummed and nodded, letting your free hand fall onto his chest, right over his heart. You couldn’t feel his heart under the beskar chest plate, but you imagined it was beating rapidly, just like yours. “I do.” Perhaps, it was too early to say such things, to declare that you loved him. Most people might think you were crazy, and maybe you were, but that didn’t matter. You loved him — you loved Din.

“Even without,” he paused, and you heard him take a breath. You let your eyes fuller open, and you pulled back a hair, just enough to be able to take him in. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was talking about — even without seeing his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, making sure his he was paying attention to you. “I don’t need to see your face.”

You heard a small, disbelieving chuckle. “Don’t need to see my face, eh?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. You tilted your head in thought. “Well, I mean, do I want to see your face? Absolutely.” You moved your fingers across the cheek of his helmet, to the visor, letting it trace the T-shape. “I want to see the color of your eyes, your nose, your mouth. The wrinkles and lines on your face. All of it.” You let your finger come to rest at the bottom of his helmet, just on the rim. You ran your finger over the smooth metal. “But, I know what that means for you, and I’m willing to wait for that. Your face is your face, and I’m sure it is a handsome face.” Another small chuckle escaped Din’s lips. “But, I don’t need to see it to know what I feel in my heart, Din.”

“You don’t?” He sounded surprised,

You shook your head. “I don’t. Because, I’ve seen you, Din Djarin,” you said, your voice filled with conviction as you looked at him straight on, right where his eyes would be behind that beskar helmet. “I’ve seen you.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin imagines #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian imagines #my writing

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recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

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So I actually finally watched Memories of Nobody. I actually saw it years and years ago, in a theater, for some reason, back in 2008. I had vague memories of being disappointed by it at the time, but we actually enjoyed it on rewatch quite a bit. Some thoughts:

According to my husband, who found it on some shady streaming site, this film takes place “between the Bount arc and the Advance Team arc” which is the 2nd most ass-pulled place to cram some filler, second only the Amagai arc, which takes place in the middle of the Hueco Mundo arc.

Ichigo spends most of the film wearing what I believe are zip-at-the-knee cargo pants, a king

Iba and Ikkaku are 🎶drinking at work🎶

Hitsugaya is so tired.

There’s a scene where Urahara explains a bunch of metaphysics while Tessai sits behind him flipping through a book of (presumably his own?) sketches, exactly like that scene in the Advance Team Arc where Renji and Rukia do this. Notably, Ichigo does not pick on Tessai’s drawing, not even once.

I guess Urahara has some way of extracting Kon’s memories and playing them, like on a tv? W H A T.

ngl the world-building in this movie kinda slaps???

I am obsessed with the fact that it’s not The Valley of Screams, it’s “a valley of screams” and it’s they make is sound like a thing that just happens (although they later back off on that and claim that there must be someone nefarious behind it)

Did I made a “what if we kissed in the valley of screams? j/k... unless...?” joke? You know I did.

There’s a scene where everyone comes to arrest Senna and it’s so ham-fisted and dumb. They sent, like, 3 captains, 2 vice-captains, some ninja, and Rukia and let Renji shout at Ichigo at the top of his lungs. Literally, all they had to do was send Rukia to say “hey, it turns out Senna is the memory crystal we should take her to Soul Society to keep her safe” and Ichigo would have been totally on board. Anyway, this is the dumbest thing that happens is movie, so let’s just move past it.

The Reigai arc sure did rip some beats off this movie

Rukia forces her way into a captains’ meeting while two guards with detaining sticks try to hold her back, this fucking rules. Yamamoto screams at her. Byakuya does not even change facial expressions.

Hey, is this, like a grifting thing? At any given time, you’ve got (1) older, distinguished Kuchiki who never reacts to anything and (1) young, feral Kuchiki who raises ruckuses? And the Kuchiki can use the hothead to start shit and cause trouble while the older one just shakes their head in vague disapproval?

Anyway, someone gave Yamamoto a kidou cannon and he is going to fire it at that valley of screams, ain’t no one gonna stop him now.

It is explicitly stated that firing the kidou cannon will destroy a significant portion of both Soul Society and the Living World but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So you know that animated gif where Renji and Rukia do a sick backflip off a bridge? No one told me they were backflipping into the valley of screams.

My precious husband says “that would make a good animated gif”. “I got you, babe,” I say.

Okay, literally half the Gotei leadership ignores Yamamoto’s orders and goes to the valley of screams.

One thing I do not like about filler/movies is that they are so afraid to do anything new that they just copy the beats of the canon material, which sort of, I dunno, cheapens it. Like, this movie evokes both Rukia and Renji deserting to save Orihime in Hueco Mundo and the captains doing their own shit at the end of the Soul Society arc, and the overall effect is that no one has any respect for Yamamoto, which I don’t think was the point they were trying to make.

They should have let Orihime go to the valley of screams, but she probably would have fixed the problem in 2 seconds

The group of people who go to the valley of screams is perplexing. Mr. P suggested that the reason Soi Fon is here is because she had previously promised to do something with Omaeda (maybe it’s his birthday??) and was like “oh, shit, sorry man, valley of screams situation came up, catch you next time (i def will not)”

Yoruichi is not in this film. I am assuming she is off being a groupie for the Red Hot Chili Peppers or something.

Hisagi was here for maybe three frames and then did nothing. At least Kira got to release his sword.

Komamura is not here, but he is sort of a Yamamoto simp. We don’t see him hanging out with Ukitake and Kyouraku back at the kidou cannon, tho. Wait. Oh, no. That kidou cannon has gotta be pretty loud. Komamura probably had to go home and put on his thundershirt and hide under the bed.

Soi Fon’s shikai worked??????

RENJI USED ZABIMARU TO CATAPULT ICHIGO OVER SOME ENEMIES TO GO FIGHT THE BOSS!!!! MY HEART!!!!! 🐍💀💪🎇💯😍

I made a bunch of jokes about things Byakuya might be doing (napping, most likely), but then he showed up late and interrupted Rukia’s fight to announce “It is an honor to be slain by my bankai.” Dude, c’mon.

I kinda want to know more about this clan that got done dirty 700 years ago and learned to live in the Dangai like Westley and Buttercup living in the Fire Swamp??

If I had to wander the Dangai, instead of trying to implode the valley of screams and destroy all planes of existence, I would have just made a valley of screams and fixed it up real nice and lived there and not bothered anyone, but that’s just me

Yamamoto has fired the kidou cannon

RIP to Ganryu, you had kind of a cool design, dude, I’m sorry your plan was bad and also that you didn’t get any Vintage Soul Society Flashbacks

I am absolutely perplexed by the end of this film. Despite saving Senna, and being hit with the kidou cannon, the valley of screams is still imploding. Senna stops existing, Ichigo is sad, everyone is saved, it ends with Ichigo seeing a girl who looks like Senna because ???

Who cares! It’s time for Sen no Yoru wo Koete!!!!

Great movie, A+++

#memories of nobody #bleach movies

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hithelleth · 3 years ago

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The Cleaning Lady S1

It’s been a week since the season finale, so my feelings had the time to settle and I need to write out some things.

Mainly, look, I’m a simple, shallow fangirl. ;) I came here for a ship. The ship. Of the not quite enemies but maybe adversaries-to-lovers (hopefully :P) variety. And the show has definitely delivered on that with off-the-charts chemistry and real connection despite everything.

But also so much more.

For airing on Fox, this show was really good about how it tackled the topic of immigrants/undocumented workers and the difficulties they face and the unfairness of it all.

But mostly, I liked how it dealt with the notions of morality and really showed the complexity good and evil. (Emphasis on showed, because it really did that, not told, so of course it may have flown over some people’s heads.)

I loved how they wrote the characters to show that what’s legal is not always good and what’s illegal is not always bad and that and belonging to the group designated as good does not make one a good person.

That said, I do not hate Garrett (yes, this is about him, in part).

(I read some meta/opinions along watching while hunting for pretty gifs to reblog (and there’s barely any of Garrett, oh well [enter something about having to them myself but not doing it :P])and he seems to be universally hated and people seem to be mostly focused on shipping (which is fine, I’m too, but…).

As opposed to some other shows (okay, one in particularly), what I liked about TCL is that Garret as an FBI agent is clearly designated as the supposed good guy. But he is a) shit at his job (skirting and breaking the law) and a) often a disaster of a human being, although he means well, and sometimes, when he realises/acknowledges his fuck-ups, he tries to fix things and makes up for it.

And that’s what makes him not hate-able, not lovable-either, but interesting. And it’s what I loved the most in TCL: showing that and/or when the designated ‘good guy’ is not good at all and making it clear, clearly framing it as him being in the wrong. A fucking +++++++ job!

In the opposite way, they show Arman, the mobster who should be in the ‘evil’ group as often much more decent human being.

And then there’s Thony, clearly ‘violating the law’, but obviously set up as good, as the protagonist to sympathise with and root for.

Marco is a whole another issue I have not spoons or desire to deal with but again I liked the dichotomy between Thony leaving with Luca to get Luca treatment and him leaving with Luca (I called that, btw!) because of, I guess, his manly pride & need to be in charge, and maybe a bit of vengefulness (or a lot of the latter.) And I’m not even getting into his gambling (although at least he had some decency to save some money for Luca).

But, maybe somewhere behind there’s something good in him, too. At least, I think, he does love Luca.

So, yeah, I don’t like Marco, but I don’t quite hate him, either. Okay, maybe a bit, more than Garrett at least. Which says something. Maybe because we really didn’t learn much about Marco, definitely less than about Garrett, so he doesn’t seem as interesting. (And a boring/uninteresting character is worse than evil.) But they might flesh him out in S2, considering how S1 ended.

So, yeah, from what I read there are good chances for S2 considering the ratings and TPTB’s enthusiasm, but what worries me is it being on Fox. I guess we have to wait and see.

I do hope there is another season, because there’s a lot of potential from Thony (hopefully) getting Luca back to trying her new criminal enterprise and manoeuvring between working with Arman and not going to jail (I guess the deportation trial is still on? I forgot.) and everything else.

I also loved Fiona and the kids and Fiona and Thony’s friendship and would love to see more of them, too.

#The Cleaning Lady #tcl meta #my meta: tcl #mostly notes to self #so i don't forget #anyway this is a good show #absolutely recommended #tv shows rec

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mrsamaroevans · 4 years ago

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YOU ALL OVER ME | ANGEL REYES

Fandom: Mayans M.C.

Pairing: Angel Reyes x the consequences of his bad decisions with Female Reader.

Words: 3,673.

Warnings: Sad and like a bad word. English is not my first language, so, sorry if there are grammar mistakes or if the redaction is poor.

A/N: This is the first thing I finish like in ages! This was not requested but I couldn’t stop listening to You All Over Me by Taylor and this came out. Thank you so much for reading, feedback is well received. *Gif is not mine*

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

“The best and worst day of June was the one that I met you, with your hands in your pockets and your ‘don't you wish you had me’ grin. But I did, so I smiled”

Santo Padre Regional High School.

Those were the words that you read before crossing the door with your mother. You had only one week in Santo Padre and you still had time before the school year begins, but she wanted to have all that ready as soon as possible.

While your mother was making all the paperwork, you were waiting on a bench outside of the office until you got bored. As no one could stop you, you decided to walk around for the facilities of what soon would be your new school. It was smaller than the school you used to go to before moving across the country, but it was okay. Classrooms were big enough, lockers a bit smaller y the patios were open and surrounded by green areas. You weren’t too disgusted about changing school again anymore.

Near the cafetería, was a mural with pictures of the different extracurricular classes and the people who were part of them. The cheerleader’s team looked too pretentious. You hated that cliché, but it was what you felt by just looking at the picture, you could be wrong though. The theatre team looked cool, maybe you’d join them. Then, was the football team.

Guys that looked bigger than what a sixteen-year-old guy should be. One of them proudly carried a big trophy. He had to be the leader, it always is. What was the position they had? You didn’t know, you weren’t too familiar with the terms of the sport.

But that guy in specific caught your attention. It wasn’t because of the trophy he had in his hands or what that meant. He had a beautiful smile, but for some reason, it didn’t look sincere. There was something in his eyes that kept you looking at him. All of him looked happy and proud, but there was something more. Unfortunately, if someone asked you what it was, you wouldn’t know how to explain it. But there was something there.

“You’re new?”

You gave a little jump at the unexpected voice on your side. You turned to your right and you saw him again. The same guy with the trophy in the picture, now in real size at your side.

“I’m gonna be” you nodded and looked back at the mural to see the rest of the teams.

“And, you like what you see?”

That flirty tone in his voice almost made you laugh. You turned to him again and saw that he had a smile that combined with the tone of voice he used and with the question he had made. His hands in his pockets, making his biceps more notorious.

“A little bit, yeah,” you said, willing to not let him intimidate you. And the truth was that you really liked what you were seeing “You are on summer break, right? What are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna do an exam,” he said like he didn’t want to talk much about it, but you didn’t realize it.

“You’re still on finals?” You asked, confused. The first time you noticed in your route was that there were no students or teachers.

“Oh, no… it’s an extraordinary exam. Chemistry” The guy answered as he didn’t care too much that he failed a class. You didn’t know what would be your situation at home if you were in his place.

“So, you’re not good with chemistry, then”

“It all depends on the situation” he smiled.

You kept his gaze for a few seconds. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction to know that the first guy that got close to you in that city had made you shy. But the visual contact didn’t last too long, ‘cause you had to look at the ground for a second.

“What did you say your name was?” You asked, looking back at his face. He had beautiful brown eyes, but you were afraid that if you look at them for too long, he could know all your secrets.

“Angel,” he said and he looked so calm that that frustrated you even more.

“And I’m sure you’re not one”

Angel devilishly grinned and you felt your knees going a little weak. How a guy that you didn’t even know could have that power on you?

“What’s your name?” He asked and when you were about to answer, your phone rang so you lifted your index finger at him to ask for a moment. You took your mother’s call and the first thing she asked was:

“Where did you go?”

“I’m just walking around,” You told her calmly. You felt kinda sad when she told you that you needed to go to the office to sign the institutional regulation. That meant that your conversation with Angel came to an end “Okay... coming” you end the call and as you were placing your phone back into your pocket, you said: “I have to go”

You looked at him for the last time and started to make your way to the office, but you didn’t even give five steps when he spoke again.

“Hey!” He shouted making you turn back to him “You didn’t tell me your name”

“(Y/n)” you smiled and turned around to the way you had ahead.

“I lived, and I learned. Had you, got burned. Held out, and held on, God knows”

All the effort for the first date. The first kiss. The first ‘I love you.' The first time you made love. That day you met his parents and they adopted you into their family right away. All the double dates with his brother and girlfriend. The fairs and festivals. The football matches in which you were the one screaming louder than anyone whenever they made a score. His better grades. The jealousy from both sides. The fights because of the cheerleaders. All those break-ups and comebacks. Those days at the beach. The laughs. The tears. The good and the bad had gone and all because of his insecurities.

How did that happen? With three pictures someone left in your locker.

“What the hell, Angel?” Was the first thing you asked when you confronted him after school.

He saw the pictures and shrugged “You need me to explain it?” Those words had hit you too hard like never before a question had made. Your heart was breaking and it looked like he didn’t care even a little.

“What’s wrong with you?” You asked, not understanding that attitude towards you. He had never talked to you like that.

“Nothing, you’re the one who wants to fight,” He said, turning around to walk to the small desk beside his bed.

“I received pictures of you sleeping with Haley, what were you expecting?” You got close and threw the pictures at his back, they hit him and then fell to the floor. Angel barely looked at them and chuckled.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, turning to you.

“That it’s not so…?” You laughed at what you heard. Angel was a bit distant weeks before you had to go to college to finish your registration, but you never thought something like that could happen “It has to be a joke”

“You left for a week and I had physiology needs”

“Fucking jerk!” You shouted and couldn’t help but push him making him crashed against his desk. Some brushes fell to the floor and the tears in your eyes started to gather. You didn’t want him to see you crying, so you decided it was time to go.

“Everyone told you that but you didn’t want to see it” he aggressively said.

“Well, you got it” you turned to him and shrugged “Another broken heart… you smashed it” your voice trembled with the last words. That seemed to affect him because his hard expression softened for a second “I hope you’re happy”

But Angel wasn’t even close to being happy.

Once you left his room, he sat on the floor and saw the pictures. He ripped them apart while the tears fell from his cheeks. He hated himself.

He was a coward. He couldn’t break up with you, but he couldn’t let you stay with him. You had plans that he didn’t. Your vision of the future didn’t fit with his, and it was because he didn’t have one. He didn’t have plans like you, he wanted to go and take anything that comes his way. You had ambition, you had a plan to make your dreams come true, and him? He didn’t have anything.

To his eyes, you didn’t deserve someone like him.

“I lived, and I learned, and found out what it was to turn around and see, that we were never really meant to be”

Years went by and life changed.

Angel went through something he thought he never would. His mother has ripped away from their lives and that had been a hard blew for him. His little brother was sent to prison y couldn’t help but feel responsible because he made his way to get a gun easier. Ezekiel told him it was for mere protection, but deep down he knew his brother wanted retaliation.

And that made him get life imprisonment for the homicide of a cop.

His relationship with his father became tenser than what already was. But, after all that he had lost, he found a shelter. The club. Mayans MC. Those men went from simple mates to family too quickly.

He had heard from his father that you came back to the city. By that moment you were already done with college and your parents had been —finally— established in Santo Padre. You told him once, that you had fallen in love with the city and that, definitely, you could see your future there. So, when Felipe said that, he didn’t doubt in believing him.

But knowing you came back and seeing you had been so different for him.

He was on his way to the scrapyard in his bike with Coco and Gilly at both of his sides, but they had to stop for gas. Coco was saying something about how much he hated the hot weather and the incensement in the price of gas when a silver jeep parked in the pump in front of his.

Three doors opened. From the driver’s one jumped off a man with braids and sunglasses; he went directly to the pump. From one of the backseats door, as beautiful as he remembered, you went out.

He saw how you fixed your dress and laugh at something someone told you. You were fanning your face with your hands, a sign that you were hot. Then, a couple of seconds later, you took your hair and tied it in a messy bun. The hot air of Santo Padre in summer was excessive.

“We should have closed the windows and put the air conditioner” Angel heard a masculine voice and then he heard your laugh.

“You know that the combination of air conditioner and this weather make me sick, honey”

Honey. Angel hadn’t forgotten how that word sounded coming from your lips, but hearing you say it to another man broke his heart.

A man in a suit that looked to be more expensive than all of the boots Angel had, walked to you. He had a smile when he kissed you and even though he didn’t want to keep watching, for some unknown reason he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“That last house’s not a sign to desist in looking for our home here,” the man told you, taking your hands “We’re gonna find the perfect house or the perfect place to build it”

“I know,” you said and nodded. Your left hand touched his cheek and that was when Angel turned to his bike. The sunrays helped to the gleam of the giant diamond in your finger to not being unnoticed by him.

You were engaged, and you and your fiancé were looking for a house, which meant it wouldn’t take long for you to marry.

“You okay?” Coco asked him. He was pale and it seemed he could faint at any moment. But Angel didn’t answer, he turned to the jeep when the doors got closed instead.

The driver started the engine and that was when your gaze stopped in him.

You looked fine. You looked happy. When your eyes connected with his, you didn’t seem surprised or hurt, or shocked. In fact, he couldn’t decipher what he saw in your eyes.

“You know her?” Gilly asked.

“I used to,” Angel said when he found his voice which wasn’t quickly.

And even though he was hurt for letting you go in the way he did, when he saw you he realized that he had made the right decision. ‘Cause you belong to the world that man in the expensive suit could give you. It was too painful though, to find out —again— that he never really had a chance like that with you.

That night, he required the services of Vicky’s girls and after that, Coco had to drive him to his apartment ‘cause he couldn’t even walk for all the alcohol he drank to cope with the pain.

“So I lied, and I cried, and I watched a part of myself die”

Days after and thanks to el Padrino, he knew who your fiancé was. His name was Miguel Galindo and he was the son of José Galindo, founder of one the most powerful and deadliest cartels in the México-USA border. He also knew that your wedding was set to be in October and that would be in three months.

That day in the gas station wasn’t the last time he saw you. He had seen you in the mall with the first friend you made in Santo Padre. You met in the market and it had been so uncomfortable. There were a lot of people and you had to walk by too close to each other. He also saw you going out of a restaurant with Miguel at your side and once and then you two were in the paper news for going to charity events.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw you at the side of another man, he could never get use to it.

“I know you didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, but… why did you break up?” Felipe asked him. He didn’t more information to know what he meant. Angel had a couple of days going to his parents' house and Felipe knew why.

You had been there on so many occasions and Angel still couldn’t get over you.

“I cheated on her” Angel said “I slept with one of the cheerleaders and I made sure to have evidence. Evidence that I left in her locker”

Felipe sighed and shook his head no “We didn’t raise you like that, Angel”

“I know that” he sounded irritated “But I needed to push her away from me so she could get all the goals she had in life… and it turned out fine. She’s so much better now”

“Did you apologize to her?” His father questioned, hoping to get a positive answer, but when Angel remained silent, he got the answer he didn’t want “You have to do it, Angel. She was and is a great woman, she didn’t deserve that. But at least do it for your mother” Angel turned to his father. There were tears in his eyes at the mention of her “Your mother loved that kid, and she always taught you to apologize when you did something wrong”

Angel nodded and took his gaze up to the ceiling, promising his mother that he would apologize next time he sees you.

A month went by to see you again. A Friday, his father had asked him for help at the butcher shop, so he went out of the clubhouse and when he arrived at the shop, he saw a jeep parked outside and a man waiting by the backseat’s door. For the glass of the shop, he saw his father talking to you. You were smiling and later, your exit coincided with his entrance.

“Sorry,” you said with a small smile and thanked him when Angel stepped aside to let you walk out.

Angel looked at his father and the expression on his face said “Go” so he just nodded got out of the shop.

“Hey, (y/n)” his voice went out less determined than what he wanted, but it worked out to have your attention. The driver had already opened the door for you, but you still turned to him “Can we talk?”

“Uh… I don’t see why” you said.

“Please…” Angel insisted, feeling nervous for the first time in too long.

“Fine” you nodded and made a sign to your driver for him to wait. He took the butcher bag and went to the trunk “What happens?” You asked, giving a few steps towards him.

Angel pointed at the table so you could sit with him, and you did.

“I never apologized for what I did to you,” he said after a few seconds of silence. He saw you sighing and shaking your head.

“Angel…” you began to say, but he interrupted you.

“No, wait… I’m sorry. I truly am and I was in that moment too” he accepted, taking you by surprise ‘cause that day you didn’t see any repentance in him “I was a jerk, you didn’t deserve that and I’m so sorry”

You didn’t know what to say for a moment. Clearly, you had gotten over what happened, but, talking about it only took you to all the pain you felt and the depression you fell into that lasted more than you would have liked.

“Well, thank you for your apologies. I accept them” you finally said and Angel looked relieved with those words “But, don’t worry anymore… it’s been some years and we got over it, right?” You asked with a small smile on your face.

“Yeah…” Angel lied “I think it turned out fine for both of us”

“Yes, everything’s fine now” you repeated “And, well… we’re going to find once and then, the city is too small. Is good that it won’t be uncomfortable next time we cross paths” you smiled once more and stood up “I have to go” Angel accepted that and even though he wanted to make you stay a little bit longer. You stopped and turned to him by yourself “Angel?”

Angel looked up to you, you were closer than what he thought you would “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about your mom,” you said pressing your lips together. When that happened, you called Felipe and Ez and talked to them, but you didn’t dare to talk to Angel.

“Thanks for the flowers” you shook your head no. You sent those flowers because you were in pain for what happened too, not because you wanted to look good before them or for them to thank you afterward.

“I loved her. She was amazing”

Angel smiled, remembering the times when his mother had told him that you were the one and that she would love to have you as a daughter-in-law “She loved you, too. She loved you so much” he admitted.

You smiled and did something that took him by surprise: you hugged him.

Angel reacted in time to hug you back, he did it tighter though, like he didn’t want to let you go again, and the truth was that he didn’t want to.

“Bye,” you said when you got apart, but he couldn’t say anything back. He just looked how you got in the car and how the jeep went away from the shop as he held on to those five seconds that the hug lasted.

The days kept on going until they became weeks and October arrived quicker than Angel imagined. El Padrino was invited to the wedding ‘cause he had been close to your future late father-in-law, so Miguel appreciated him.

Angel had promised himself he wouldn’t go. Being there and see you taking someone else’s name wouldn’t help in anything, but couldn’t contain from doing it. A few minutes after seven p.m, he drove to the church and waited outside. He was in a spot in which people couldn’t see him, but he would see when they go out. In his hands, he had a strip with black and white pictures from one of those machines at fairs. Those were the only pictures he kept after you broke up with him.

In the first one, you were only smiling. In the second, he was kissing you and in the third, you were smiling and showing your left hand in which you had a candy ring that Angel bought for you.

At 7:45 people started to leave the church and it didn’t take too long for you and your now-husband to go out. You looked beautiful. Your smile could light up the whole country, and, the man at your side looked happy too. He should be. Marry you should be enough reasons to be the happiest and luckiest man on the planet.

A tear fell when your husband cupped your face and kissed you. It didn’t matter how happy you looked, Angel couldn’t help but wish to be him taking your hand at that moment. He looked down at the pictures and sighed. He left them in the tree trunk that was being used as his hiding spot and turned to you, one last time.

He still loved you like the first day and he couldn’t deny it, and also couldn’t hide it. He was hoping to find you in another life to make things right.

“Cause no amount of freedom gets you clean. I’ve still got you all over me”

|| MY MASTERLIST ||

#angel reyes #angel reyes drabble #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes gif #Mayans MC #mayans mc x reader #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fic #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo x oc #miguel galindo fanfiction #miguel galindo imagine #fanfic #fanfiction

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margarethx · 3 years ago

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I have some slightly controversial take about Sam Wilson fandom here, so maybe don’t reblog this post... Comment if you want, but I really don’t want to start arguing with anyone. I just need to vent and will probably delete the whole rant later.

So...

I know that Sam’s fans complain a lot about the treatment he gets in the fandom... I still do that from time to time and I probably will continue doing it in the future. But I’m starting to feel very, very tired with the people who act like their love for Sam can only be expressed through:

1) criticizing other people’s content,

2) hatered/dislike for Bucky or Sambucky,

3) complaining about other people in the fandom.

It’s so weird. We criticize the people who make Bucky-centric content with barely any mention of Sam and tag it with his name, because it’s annoying, but at the same time there is quite a big number of fans, whose posts in Sam Wilson tag are basically:

“omg he never gets recognition”, “MCU fandom hates Sam”, “Everything is about Bucky, where is Sam?!” “some of you only like sam when he’s with bucky :/”

And... sure. There’s a lot of truth to these statements. But saying that over and over again won’t fix the problem, especially if you yourself don’t do ANYTHING to remedy the situation. You’re flooding the tag too... Just in a different way. A few months ago I had this habit that I liked to follow people who wrote posts like these. Because I had this assumption that: if you complain about Sam being treated badly you probably love him a lot, so we should get along. I love him too!

But I realized that a lot of those people literally complain for the sake of complaining and than don’t even try to post Sam-centric content on their own. Why not??? You don’t have to be an amazing creator to make a good post. It’s not just about realistic fanart and 30k words fanfic with a complicated plot. You might write some weird HCs about Sam instead. Or a joke. Incorrect quotes. Ideas for fics you’ll never finish, but might inspire other people. Doodles that took 2 minutes of drawing. Edited photos. Favourite screenshots. Prompts. Learn to make poor-quality gifs of Sam’s cool fightigh style. Write a short scene analysis. Or ask other people how they analyse some scenes to start a discussion. Link some edits from YouTube.

And if you cannot think of a single thing to make on your own? Well. You can always promote art made by other people. Go through the tag and reblog things you loved. Find a good blog and search throught their archives to find older content. You can compile a post with fic recommendations so other people read what you enjoyed and see how good the content about Sam might be. Or recommend your favourite creators in general. Send encouraging asks to artists who you love so they feel motivated.

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But these people do none of that. I can scroll throught their blog for 10 minutes and everything about Sam Wilson I see is complaining that people like Bucky more. Or that Sambucky is popular. (As if all the best Sambucky stories aren’t just fans expressing their love towards Sam through Bucky’s eyes...) I’m not trying to say that you have to be a creator to criticize the fandom, but it’s weird when you only yell at others for not posting enough about Sam when you didn’t post anything about him either unless it’s complaining. Kind of ironic...

Also! If you don’t promote other people’s content they get discoraged from posting. It’s a fact. I have probably over 80 different half-made and finished drawings with Sam Wilson on my tablet, but I have zero incentive to post any of them, because every attempt in the past ended with these posts getting 4 notes. Or 10 at best. So why bother? I can look at them alone. And I don’t remember these people who complained about the lack of Sam content supporting my Sam-centric art with nice comments.

You cannot expect the fandom to mass-produce content for you if you don’t encourage it. I got no feedback, so now I just sort of... write or draw for myself, because I enjoy it and have no incentive to publish any of that when no one’s interested. Instead I just make writing prompts or analysis of tfatws, because there’s a bigger chance I’ll have an interesting disussion with other fans in the comments or I’ll inspire other creators to make more art by posting that. I enjoy both of those things very much, but one evokes a reaction I want and the other just... doesn’t. (It’s not even about validation... even if it’s nice to get compliments. It’s just: “when other people are clearly not interested, why make the art public at all?”.)

--- ----- ---

Like I said. I’m not going to call out any specific person here. But there were a few people who harshly criticized me in asks or in private messages for “pretending to love Sam” just because I like Sambucky too. But if you scroll through my blog you’ll find that at least 95% of the posts are about Sam. And if you scroll through theirs it’s 3 posts - all of them about fandom not loving Sam enough. (I just checked.)

But I guess I’m a “disgrace to the fandom”, because I acknowledge that Sam might have a love interest while you said you hate Bucky, so... Apparently your love for Sam Wilson is more real if you despise more popular characters he interacts with. ...Be honest with yourselves. Some of you just like to whine and complain, but prefer to disguise it behind love for Sam, so it sounds justified.

And yes. There should be more content that is only about Sam. Or about Sam’s non-romantic relationships. Sure. But if my two choices are: “get a Sambucky fic about Bucky loving Sam very much” or “get a post where someone cries about Sam not being loved enough for the 10th time”... then pardon me for preferring the first option.

If any of you spent half the energy you waste on complaining on making a single post about your supposed love for Sam the tag would be much more full of good content. But it seems like making actual content requires more effort and talent, so you just stay there whining that other people don’t provide you with what you want and demand. And give zero encouragement and promotion to those who do the work.

So continue doing that if you wish. But I won’t waste all my energy on making my weekly “this fandom fucking sucks” post. I prefer promoting cool art other users made (now or years ago) and creating my own posts that might not be always 100% about only Sam... but are still focused on him. Because I like this fictional little guy. I’m not going to let this weird purity tests ruin my enjoyment. If the pretty drawing of Sam has Bucky on the other side of the canvas I still have a cool drawing of Sam to admire. So it’s a win for me.

--- ----- ---

[Reminder: please don’t reblog this. I really just need to vent. Comments are okay, I can discuss this. I just don’t want some peope to see that and go yell at me all over again. I was already harassed for allowing Bucky or Steve on my mostly Sam-Wilson-centric blog...]

[Also... if you think this is hypocritical of me to complain about complaining... Maybe. I don’t think it’s comparable here, but whatever.]

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

Text

Danger Days - Chapter three: "I want you to want me"

Word count: 9,2K

Summary: Matthew and Joey have a little argument. The young drummer is getting closer to the band, and Mikey found a friend in her.

Warnings: Cursing.

A/N: So this is where you realize what might go wrong in this story...

Not my gifs

Masterlist

::: Los Angeles, October 15th, 2010 :::

Gerard woke up early that morning and took a long shower. He wanted to get to the practice studio early, get everything done with Brian, revisit the schedule, and get some peace of mind about the whole tour. He knew he had been a jerk with Ray the day before, but he had fixed it, sitting down for real and preparing the setlist for the tour. They all knew it was going to change eventually. Still, it was good having an idea of what to practice, which was considerately more important this tour.

- "Hey, you are up early"- Lynz frowned, surprised as she walked into the kitchen and found her husband drinking coffee.

- "I have a lot of work today"- he took a sip of his cup and felt his wife's lips on his cheeks- "What about you?"

- "Me too, I still have to finish a few commissions for next week, so I guess you can say I'm full of work too."

- "You won't miss me then"- Gerard smiled at his wife, and she nodded.

- "So you are not coming for lunch?"

- "No, I think we'll stay the whole day there. There's a lot to do. James is coming today, and Joey has to learn all the songs... shit is gonna get real."

- "You should invite her over one of these days"- Gerard frowned and turned to Lynz.

- "Why?"

- "She is in the band. We should all hang out, get to meet her. Besides, you are gonna be away with her. Maybe I want to put an eye on the girl you will be locked in a bus with for months."

Lynz ended up laughing at her own words as her husband knit his eyebrows.

- "Are you jealous already?"

- "I'm not jealous! I love that there's a girl in the band!"

- "Then?"

- "Then what? I was just making a joke!"- no, she wasn't.

- "Good, 'cos I don't want you to be jealous"- Gerard stood up and kissed his wife's temple- "She is just our drummer. I'm not sure she will even be our friend."

- "I still wanna meet her, though"- she added- "Not 'cos insecurity, but because I want her to feel welcome, I've got the feeling you might have been a little hard on her after what you told me."

- "We weren't hard! come on!"- Gerard felt even a little insulted, but still, he knew she was right- "I'm gonna go, and I'll leave you with this thought: your husband is adorable."

- "That I knew, but you can be a pain in the ass when you want to."

And that was a big undeniable truth.

Joey jumped off the bed that morning at six. Matthew was snoring while she made fresh coffee, worked out, showered, picked a nice outfit for her first proper day at work, and sat down at the kitchen counter with her laptop. Joey googled "My Chemical Romance" and read their whole Wikipedia bio. She had never been so into the band to know that much about them, but now that she had to work with them, she felt like she needed to know a little more.

- "Hey!"- Matthew walked over and kissed her sweetly- "You got up early."

- "Yeah, I couldn't sleep anymore. I was too excited! It's like the first day of school"- he chuckled as he looked at her, almost jumping on her seat- "When are you called into the set today?"

- "Noon"- he stood behind her and took a look at the screen- "Being a little psycho on your new friends?"

- "Just trying to find out what I'm dealing with."

- "What do you know so far?"

- "They've kicked out two drummers already."

- "That's reassuring"- Joey smiled as Gubler opened her fridge and grabbed the orange juice- "What else?"

- "They are from Jersey... they are all married."

- "That's always good to know."

- "I'm not planning to cheat on you with any of them"- Joey turned to her boyfriend, kind of shocked with the comment.

- "I know, but we don't know what they are thinking about"- the couple stared at each other in silence for a moment until Joey returned to the screen. Matthew was serious. Joey hated when he was jealous.

- "Anyway, I also know Gerard is an alcoholic. I wonder if that's gonna be weird."

- "Why? 'cos you drink a lot?"

- "I wouldn't say a lot."

- "I would."- Matthew teased.

- "Thanks, Gubs"- he kissed Joey's cheek several times until she giggled.

- "You know I'm joking! come on!"

- "Fine... I'm gonna get going anyway"- the young woman stood up, but her boyfriend stopped her.

- "You are going nowhere!"- he wrapped his arms around her and spun her on the air while she giggled- "Did I tell you how proud I am?"

- "Not today"- he kissed her and smiled.

- "I am very proud of you Yami, I think you are gonna kick ass in this new job."

- "Thank you, Akumu..."

- "Do you know how long you'll be touring?"

- "Not yet... we are getting all that sorted today, and the contract and all the boring legal stuff."

- "Will you need a lawyer?"- she wrinkled her nose, and he smiled at that. He always thought he looked adorable doing that.

- "I hate this grown-up shit."

- "I can ask my lawyer to help you"- Joey smiled and kissed her boyfriend one more time.

- "Thank you for being the grown-up. Now I have to run."

- "I'll call you later, love you"- Matthew held her one more time and cupped her face with both hands, kissing her deeply. She sighed when he slowly pulled back and even whined a little, asking for another kiss, which he gave her sweetly.

- "Love you too"- she managed to whisper and smiled at him, blushing before leaving for work.

Frank sat on the floor in the practice studio and tuned his guitar. He was all alone 'cos Ray was out getting coffee, and he refused to join him. He wanted to be alone a little longer, alone with his thoughts, his incomprehensible thoughts. He took longer than ever to get ready that morning. He changed his shirt five times before he felt good about the way he looked. That wasn't Frank Anthony Iero. He wasn't vain at all. He never cared about how he looked. Why now? Why did he refuse to keep thinking about it? Why was he afraid of the answer?

- "Hey!"- Joey's voice took him from his thoughts as she walked over and smiled.

- "Hey! You are here early"- Frank quickly stood up and walked over.

- "Yeah, I know, I got up too early today..."

- "Couldn't sleep?"

- "Yeah, Matthew is a kicker"- she joked and left her backpack on the floor as Frank chuckled. She was never going to admit she couldn't sleep 'cos she was too nervous and excited about her first day of work.

- "And what are you doing here so early?"

- "Ray is driving, and he is way too professional to be late."

- "And where is he?"- Joey frowned, looking around

- "Getting coffee."

- "Uh, I need more coffee."

- "I'll ask him to get you one"- Frank quickly answered and grabbed his phone to text his friend.

- "No, please don't,"- Joey immediately replied- "He already got me one yesterday."

- "So?"

- "So I don't wanna be trouble."

- "Don't be silly,"- Frank snorted and started texting. But before he could actually press "send," Ray showed up.

- "Hello!"

- "Oh, great!"- Iero responded disappointedly.

- "Please, don't get so excited to see me,"- Ray joked and turned to Joey- "How are you?"

- "Hey! I'm excited! I'm ready to practice."

- "She also wanted coffee"- Frank added- "And you didn't bring her any."

- "Frank, cut it"- Joey hit his arm and smiled- "I told you he got me one yesterday, and I can perfectly walk around the corner and get me one too."

- "Shit, sorry girl, I didn't know you were coming so early,"- Ray apologized, but Joey shook her head.

- "Don't worry, Frank is just messing with you. I'm gonna go get a coffee, do you want something?"- Joey turned to Iero, and he didn't even think about it.

- "I'll go with you. I could use a cigarette."

- "Dude, it's not even ten in the morning,"- Joey quickly answered, frowning.

- "What are you? the healthy lungs police or something?"

- "Is that a real thing? 'cos I wanna be a part of that"- her amusing tone of voice made Frank crack a laugh as he grabbed his cigarettes from his backpack and walked to the door.

- "We'll be right back"- Ray nodded as he watched, then disappear and shook his head.

- "First, he hates her, now he is into her... what the fuck is his problem?"

- "So, do you always smoke this early?"- Joey asked Frank as they stepped out of the studio, and he lit a cigarette right away.

- "I don't believe in certain hours to do shit."

- "You shitty rebel,"- Joey replied and turned to him laughing- "So you are the kind of bad boy that eats breakfast for dinner?"

- "I can have my Count Chocula any time I want."

- "Damn! I knew you were trouble!"- Frank burst out laughing until Gerard's voice stopped him and somehow made him feel busted.

- "What are you guys doing here?"

- "Hey!"- Joey greeted him with a smile- "We are gonna get coffee. Do you want some? Lots of caffeine, almond milk?"- Gerard stared at the two of them for a second, and for some weird reason, he said.

- "Let's go. I need a coffee too."

- "Cool."

The three of them walked in silence for a moment. Joey was excited the two guys were trying to be nicer to her after being such jerks. Frank kept smoking and didn't know what to do, the same Gerard, who kept asking himself why he had decided to come along.

- "So kids, how did you meet?"- the drummer asked to kill the silence- "I'm sorry, we are gonna have to go through all the chit-chat people usually go through when they meet... I think it's weird to know about the people I'm working with through Wikipedia."

- "That cool. It would be weird if you google us to know about the band,"- Gerard said, thinking he had already searched her on the internet, but he was never going to face it in front of anyone. And Joey chuckled, feeling almost busted for doing the exact same.

- "Yeah, totally."

There was a short pause in the conversation, and the two of them looked at each other for a second.

- "Besides, it would be completely unfair 'cos I'm betting there's tons of info about you on the web, and there is nothing about me, so we are doomed to know each other the old fashion way."

Frank chuckled and looked away. He had already googled her too. It took him a long while to get to spell her last name right until he finally found her. Gerard smiled at Joey and answered her question.

- "We met back in Jersey, we were at the same rock punk shows, and we shared the practice studio 'cos he had another band."

- "And we became friends, I got into the band, and they have been stuck with me ever since,"- Frank finished the story and stub out his cigarette.

- "Being stuck with you sounds scary,"- Joey joked as she walked into the coffee shop, followed by the two guys.

- "You are gonna be stuck with me for months,"- Iero added and grinned- "So you better get used to it."

- "Shit, you are right... any tip?"- Joey asked Gerard, and he looked surprised for a second.

- "I guess you should know he is vegan, he is a little rat, and you can entertain him with coloring books."

- "Noted"- the young woman smiled and asked for her coffee. Gerard quickly moved along and asked for his.

- "I've got this"- he moved faster than her and paid for her coffee.

- "You don't have to, really"- Joey tried to stop him, but he smiled and shook his head.

- "I know, but I want to."

And he cut her a smile that made her shiver looking down. Wow, that guy could be hot as fuck, and Joey had just noticed it.

- "Thank you"- that was all she could whisper and moved aside to get her coffee. It was weird that he was that nice, but it was nice at the same time. It was better than him being an asshole like he had been. At least she already knew the worst of him before touring.

That day they had to go through all the legal shit Joey hated. The band's manager and their lawyer presented the papers and contract. She read them and pretty much agreed with everything.

- "So basically, my job is to show up at the shows and play"- the drummer sentenced and summarized everything she had just read- "No photoshoots, no interview, no nothing."

- "Yes"- the lawyer quickly answered and gave her a pen.

- "Sounds like the perfect job for me."

- "And your fee"- Joey read that too and made her best not to freak out. It was more money than she had ever seen and more than she had ever been paid to play- "This is your monthly paycheck, according to all the dates in the tour."

- "If I miss one date?"

- "It will be discounted."

- "Sounds fair"- Joey held the pen and the paper for a second, to then raise her eyes- "Can you guys stop staring at me? I feel the peer pressure like you want to get me into drugs or something!"- she asked as the whole band chuckled.

- "Sorry!"- Ray quickly turned around- "I just wanted to see if you'll sign it."

- "Yeah, we are gonna leave"- Gerard followed Ray, but neither Mikey nor Frank moved.

- "So?"- the young woman asked them.

- "No, I'm not going anywhere until you sign that shit and make the official decision to be stuck with us for the next... 18 months"- Frank cut Joey a huge grin, but she closed her eyes, pretending to have second thoughts.

- "Eighteen months? Let me reread this shit"- Joey joked and pretended to read; Frank laughed. Mikey chuckled until the drummer grabbed the pen and signed- "Fine, I'll do it."

- "Yeah!"- Mikey raised his arms and high-fived Joey- "We have to celebrate!"

- "Were you looking for an excuse to get wasted?"- Frank turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow.

- "Weren't you?"- Mikey quickly answered, confused.

- "I was trying not to make it so obvious."

- "Did she sign already?"- Ray walked into the room and rubbed his hands together.

- "Yeah, you are stuck with me too"- Joey raised the contract and waved.

- "Cool! let's party!"

- "Is this how it's gonna be for the next year and a half of my life?"

- "Yeah, Joey, get used to it"- Mikey tapped on her shoulder, and she sighed, thinking she might have just signed to be the babysitter of a bunch of kids.

Gerard looked at her from a distance and cut her a short smile. She walked over and nodded.

- "So, welcome aboard, kid."

- "Thank you, grandpa."

- "I'm just seven years older than you!"- he answered, almost insulted as Joey smiled for a second but ended up frowning, confused.

- "Wait, how do you know my age?"- Gerard stayed quiet for a second, trying to make up a good lie to get out of that awkward moment, and Joey kept her eyes on him, waiting.

- "Your birthday was at the contract. I had to read it"- he simply answered- "And you are a kid."

- "I'm twenty-five! how old are you?"

- "Thirty-three"- the two of them stared at each other in silence, not knowing what to say next.

- "See, grandpa"- Joey cut him a quick smile and walked away. Gerard bit his tongue and decided to end that conversation before it would get dangerous. He felt every fucking time he would talk to that girl, he ended up flirting, and that wasn't good at all.

- "Ok guys, we already set a playlist,"- Ray said and clapped his hands as soon as the lawyers and their manager were out of the room- "It's time to practice."

- "Let me see that"- Joey grabbed the sheet of paper Ray was holding and went through the titles of each song, making her best to remember all the names- "Can I have a copy of this?"

- "I'll send it to your mail."

- "Awesome."

- "Can you text me your email?"- Joey chuckled at Ray's comment and sent him the text.

- "Do you know any of the songs?"- James asked Joey. The band's keyboarder wasn't an official member, just like her, but he had been playing with them for years.

- "Yeah, I just don't know them all,"- she simply answered and smiled.

- "But you liked the band before you applied for the position, right?"- he continued asking, and Joey stayed still for a second before she answered.

- "Yeah, of course."

- "Wait, what was that?"- Frank asked and raised an eyebrow.

- "What was what?"

- "That second of doubt... you don't like the band!"- he pointed at her with his finger, and the drummer felt her cheeks burning red- "Oh shit! it's true!"

- "No! it's not!"

- "Shame!!!"- Frank sort of yelled and pointed at her again, now with a dramatic movement of his arm, making her burst out laughing.

- "The fact I don't own a t-shirt with your face on it, or that I didn't pee when I met you doesn't mean I don't like your band! don't be an asshole!"- Joey simply answered- "If I didn't think your band is cool, I wouldn't have come."

- "Ok, favorite song?"- James asked.

- "Are you serious?"

- "Yeah"- he maintained his poker face though he was obviously joking.

- "Thank you for the venom."

- "Favorite album?"- Frank asked, and Joey turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

- "Really?"

- "Yeah, I wanna know who I'm working with."

- "I already signed, which means you are fucking doomed."

- "It's not too late already. I can tackle the lawyer on his way to the car"- Joey chuckled at Frank's words for a moment and then answered.

- "Dude, you are taking this too seriously, and the answer is Revenge. Actually, Tucker introduced me to your music when we toured together."

- "Really?"- Frank answered, surprised.

- "Yeah, we exchanged CDs, 'cos that's the kind of nerd we are, he gave me Revenge, and I gave him a The Dresden Dolls cd.

- "I love that band!"- Gerard quickly said

- "I love Amanda Palmer"- Joey answered- "When I worked with her, I fangirled so fucking much I'm sure I scared the shit out of her, but she was so fucking nice!!"

Gerard was about to add something, but he couldn't.

- "And I love this talk, but we are gonna have plenty of time for this when we are bored as fuck in the tour bus, now we have to practice!"- Ray said, standing up.

- "Is he always like this?"- Joey asked James, and he nodded

- "Or worst"

- "Damn!"

- "Welcome to My Chem"- he shook her hand, and both of them smiled.

- "Thank you."

- "So you just signed?!!"

Matthew yelled through the phone, losing his cool right away. Joey stood outside the studio dumbfounded, thinking that wasn't the reaction she thought she was going to get when she told her boyfriend she had already sign the contract, and she was officially the new My Chem drummer.

- "Yes, I read the papers, and everything was in order."

- "A lawyer should have read that!"

- "Why? don't you trust my good judgment?"

- "Are you a lawyer?!"- Gubler was losing the patient and kept yelling as he walked away from the set.

- "What the fuck is your problem?! The contract was ok!"

- "I told you it was better if a lawyer helped you with it! What if they fuck you up? What if there is something you didn't notice?"

- "Matthew Gray Gubler! Calm down! everything is ok!"

- "You don't know that! I don't know that! As far as I know, you just fucked it up!"

- "So you really think I'm an asshole? Do you really think I'm so stupid I can't see if someone is trying to fuck me over?! Thank you for being so clear about the impression you have of me!"- Joey shouted and hung up the phone.

- "Wow, remind me never to make you mad,"- Mikey said as he lit a cigarette and looked at Joey from a safe distance.

- "Sorry you heard that."

- "Problems with your boyfriend?"- she nodded and sat on the ground, leaning her back against the wall.

- "He is mad I didn't read the contract with a lawyer,"- the girl simply said, still upset. Her cell phone rang in her pocket. She looked at the screen and hung up.

- "Aren't you going to talk to him?"

- "Nope, he thinks I'm stupid. I don't wanna talk to him"- Joey heard her words and thought it didn't sound pretty mature, but that didn't stop her from being childish.

- "Did he say so?"

- "No, but he doesn't believe I can read a fucking contract! Seriously Mikey, how stupid does he think I am?"

- "Maybe he is just trying to protect you,"- the bassist answered and sat next to Joey on the ground.

- "I can get that, but I don't need someone who protects me. I can fucking do that on my own. I just want someone who trusts me and encourages me."

- "He is just trying to be a good boyfriend."

- "Dude, I don't need that. I hate that. It's fucking mansplaining"- Mikey turned to her and frowned.

- "The fuck is that?"

- "Really? Mansplaining? you haven't heard of it?"- the youngest Way shook his head as Joey nodded- "It's the explanation of something by a man to a woman, in a manner regarded as condescending or patronizing."

- "So basically, you see Gubler's caring for you as a way for him to be condescending with you?"

- "Yes, I don't need that. He should be supporting."

- "But maybe that's his way to be supporting"- Joey turned to Mikey and shook her head.

- "I don't like that"- her cellphone rang again, and she looked at the screen.

- "Tell him then"- the young woman sighed and finally answered the phone.

- "Yes?"- she simply asked and waited for Matthew's answer.

- "I'm sorry I freaked out,"- Gubler whispered at the other side of the line- "I'm just worried."

- "Worried I can't take care of myself?"

- "No! Of course not, Yami. I know, and I love the fact you can take of yourself. I just wish you would have... asked me first?"

Matthew was actually hesitant about the answer 'cos he knew it wasn't really going to make things better for him.

- "Or maybe a lawyer, as we talked about this morning."

- "We didn't talk, you suggested it, and I ignored you."

Joey sentenced right away as Mikey lit another cigarette. Neither of them moved; the youngest Way was actually enjoying that argument. He loved their new drummer had the strength to stand up for what she believed in, even in front of her boyfriend. Especially in front of her boyfriend.

- "Fine... I'm sorry"- Matthew gave up and decided the only thing he could do under the circumstances was to apologize and try to move on from the whole deal- "Do you wanna go out tonight to celebrate?"

- "I don't know, I think I need a lawyer to make that decision,"- Joey teased and chuckled- "Sounds like a plan."

- "Great, text to you later?"

- "Cool, love you."

- "Me too"- Joey hung down the phone and sighed.

- "See? Shit got better,"- Mikey said and cut her a smile.

- "Yeah... he is adorable. I can't stay fucking mad at him."

- "He is hot as fuck"-Joey turned to Mikey, and he chuckled- "I'm kidding!"

- "No, you are right, he is so hot I cream my knickers each time I see him. I thought I should see a doctor about it, but it turns out it's totally normal when you have a hot boyfriend like mine"- Mikey laughed, and Joey smiled- "But should I be worried? I mean, are you and your girlfriend, wife... lover... boyfriend, maybe into threesomes and shit?"

Michael James Way burst out laughing so hard he even gasped for air.

- "I'm gonna guess that's an affirmative answer."- Joey simply added and stood up- "So I am gonna leave before you pervert try to convince me to let you borrow my boyfriend for your dirty secret affairs."

- "Just so you know, I am not the pervert of this band"- Mikey was able to argue once he started breathing again, coughing as they walked back into the practice studio.

- "Then who?"

- "My brother and Frank"- Joey looked at him frowning- "Ask them what's Frerard"- Mikey whispered and chuckled.

- "What the fuck is that?"

- "Just ask them."

- "It's like Brangelina?"- the drummer was confused and intrigued at the same time, but Mikey didn't say a word- "Oh, come on! What if I ask and they kick me out?"

- "They won't... I think"- Way gave it a little thinking but made up his mind- "Nothing terrible is gonna happen, just ask... or even better, google it."

- "I'm not gonna google that! Now I'm scared!"- Joey said too loud, causing the rest of the band to turn and look at them.

- "Why are you scared?"- Ray asked her, and Joey's cheek turned blood red immediately.

- "No reason"

- "Oh! Come on!"- Mikey shoved her out of balance, causing her to turn to him and frown right away.

- "Shut up!"- the girl argued and push him back, playfully and giggling.

- "Just ask!"

- "I'm not gonna!"- he kept messing with her, and she kept arguing back.

- "Why not?!"

- "'Cause you are making this whole shit out!"- Joey shoved Mikey again, and he snickered.

- "Don't be shy! We are partners now!"- and Mikey Way continued, he was on fire. Gerard, Frank, and Ray looked at them, confused and intrigued. More intrigued than confused at that point.

- "Stop it!"- Mikey shoved Joey again, and she did the same until the two of them were wrestling playfully.

- "What the fuck?"- Iero asked.

- "She asked about Frerard!"- Mikey managed to say at the moment Joey climbed his back and sort of choked him.

- "I didn't ask that shit! I don't even know what it is! You said I should ask that!"- Ray burst out laughing as Gerard and Frank turned around pretty much at the same time.

- "But now you are too curious"- Mikey kept teasing Joey and nailed it. She was now way too curious about the concept "Frerard" and why Frank and Gerard looked so embarrassed by it.

- "Ok, are we up for lunch?"- James asked and stared at the scene- "What?"

- "Joey asked about Frerard"- Mikey simply answered, and James nodded.

- "Fuck no! That's just gross!"

Joey was preparing herself mentally to share the next year and a half with that band. It was terrifying to know she had to be with strangers for so long. It was too much time, and she hadn't actually thought about it so deeply. But she couldn't stop repeating her father's words the night before on the phone: "I had never been more proud of you." And that was enough to encourage her to go through whatever was coming ahead.

- "Earth to Joey?"- Frank moved his hand in front of her face and woke her up from her trance.

- "Sorry, what?"

- "Are you coming with us for a drink?"- they were done with the practice for the day, and Mikey had insisted so much about going out that evening, they had all accepted.

- "Eh, I think I better go home."

- "Why? You know it looks like shit to ditch the band you are working with, technically on the first day at work, right?"

Joey chuckled and looked down at her feet for a second, only 'cos it felt too intense to keep the look locked in Frank's eyes. They were slightly intimidating and hypnotic at the same time.

- "I know it looks like the shit, but I have a lot to practice before the tour! Did you see the setlist? It goes for miles! I don't have time to party. I have to work so that I won't fuck it up in my new job."

- "Oh, come on! Stop being so fucking responsible. You are making us look bad!"- Frank's voice sounded lower than usual, making Joey shiver. He grabbed her arm and pulled her- "Let's go!"

- "Frank, don't drag me!"

- "Don't fight me! You know you wanna go!"- Joey chuckled and walked along with Frank.

- "Dude, if I suck at this tour and the kids boo you, it's gonna be on you!"

- "So, ready to go?"- Ray asked and smiled at Joey- "Are you coming with us?"

- "She is, and she can't wait,"- Frank answered for her as she grabbed the phone from her pocket and picked it up.

- "Halló?"

- "Hello Yami"

- "Akumu!"- Joey giggled, kind of nervous, feeling butterflies in her stomach as she heard Matthew's voice on the other side of the line.

- "Are you done working?"

- "Stepping outside the studio as we speak."

- "Awesome, listen, I'm gonna be late for dinner...-" Joey sighed, disappointed, and nodded- "I'm so sorry dorky, we are running late tonight."

- "Yeah, I get it."

- "But I won't be here too long. Would you wait for me for a late bite?"

- "Oh, Gubler, you are gonna get one late bite tonight,"- the girl whispered in a deep dirty voice, making her boyfriend chuckle nervous. Gerard, who was overhearing her conversation, bit his tongue to keep him from laughing. He liked that phrase. He liked knowing a little more about her, trying to find out what kind of sense of humor she had and if they were going to be able to have fun and get along for hours on a tour bus.

- "So where are we going?"- Ray lit a cigarette and turned to the band as soon as they all stood next to their cars.

- "I am going home,"- James quickly answer- "Sorry, next time, I promise."

- "Oh, come on!! We haven't been out in ages!"- Ray quickly whined, at which Joey chuckled right away. She thought it was funny, 'cos he was over thirty, and according to her, a grown-up man in kick-ass rock bands shouldn't whine like a little kid.

- "We are about to start a massive tour, and we'll be on each other's faces for months. You are gonna be glad you won't see me tonight, trust me."

- "He is probably right,"- Frank lit a cigarette and nodded at James's words- "I mean, we already know all of his boring stories, and someone here has a lot of new material we have to know"- he said and pointed Joey.

- "Shit! No, don't kill the magic and the mystery!"- the young woman argued and hit the hood of the car to make a more dramatic scene.

- "Sorry, you are doomed tonight"- Gerard cut her an evil grin, and Joey had to hold her breath for a second. Fuck, he was hot!

- "I can only stay for a little while, 'cos I have to have dinner with Matthew"- the way those words left her lips seemed to be more like a reaffirmation for her than to let the band know she had other plans.

- "Hot date with the hot boyfriend?"- Mikey asked her, and she blushed as she laughed.

- "Knock it, you can't have him for dirty purposes. He is only for me to enjoy"- the rest of the band frowned, and Mikey Way burst out laughing like a maniac.

- "What the fuck?"- Iero asked, and neither Joey nor Mikey cared to explain.

- "Ok, I think we better go..."- Ray opened his car door and looked at the band- "The same place as usual?"

- "Text me the address,"- Joey said and walked to her car.

- "Are you gonna drink?"- Frank questioned and raised an eyebrow.

- "What? Are you my dad?"- the girl answered and gazed at him with an interrogative stare.

- "No, but you shouldn't drive if you are gonna drink. We can give you a ride, and then your boyfriend will pick you up..."

- "And if he doesn't pick me up?"

- "You shouldn't drink and drive anyway,"- Frank recited.

- "Ok, dad,"- Joey sighed, frustrated, though she knew he was right- "Drive me to the booze."

The bar was packed, but no one paid attention to the band. That was what they liked the most about it. It was an old dumpster they used to go to when they first recorded in Los Angeles back in 2004. The owner welcomed them, and they sat at what seemed to be their regular table at the back of the place.

- "Thank you,"- Joey whispered as soon as Gerard moved a chair for her and cut him a short smile. But his face didn't move an inch- "This guy is kind of weird"- she thought and focused on Ray's voice, talking about work.

- "Come on! We've reviewed that shit over and over again today. Can we please talk about anything else!"- Frank grumped and lit a cigarette.

- "I don't think you can smoke in closed places"- Joey raised an eyebrow, confused and Iero smiled to answer with a deep voice.

- "You can't, I do"- the young woman tried not to laugh, but she couldn't help it and giggled, nodding.

- "You little rebel."

- "So kids, what can I get you?"- the waiter asked as he stood next to the table- "Three beers, one diet coke, and for the lady?"- they had definitely been there before.

- "Dark beer"- Joey simply answered and smile.

- "Like your soul?"- the waiter answered and cut her a smile.

- "And my dreams"- she added and grinned.

- "Wow, someone is a heartbreaker,"- Mikey elbowed her and also lit a cigarette.

- "Dude, don't be that guy,"- Joey argued and tapped on the table a few times, following the rhythm of the song that filled the bar.

- "Which guy?"

- "The one who thinks when a girl is nice, she is automatically flirting."

- "You were!!"- Mikey Way quickly argued, and Joey gasped in shock.

- "I can't believe you are that kind of asshole!"

- "Joey, cut the shit. We all know girls do that all the time,"- Mikey argued.

- "What? Being nice?"

- "Pretending they are not flirting when they are actually teasing the shit out of us."

- "Mikey "whatever your middle name is" Way, I'm the only one packing a vag here. I can assure you women can be nice with guys just 'cos we want to be nice, and not 'cos we want to get in your pants."

The band burst out laughing as soon as they heard that whole sentence. Joey raised an eyebrow and sighed.

- "What's so funny?"

- "Then whole shit!!"- Gerard kept laughing, now tears filling his eyes- "And it's James, Michael James, for the next time you middle name him."

The oldest Way managed to say and looked into Joey's eyes.

- "Here's the deal, kids, I middle name everybody, so you are gonna have to give them all to me"- Frank locked his eyes on Joey's as soon as she finished talking and did his best to move them away. But he just kept staring at her, barely blinking.

- "Raymond Manuel"- Ray broke the spell, and Joey turned to him.

- "Me encanta que tu segundo nombre sea en español" (I love that your middle name is in Spanish)- she quickly replied.

- "Mi español es muy malo" (my Spanish sucks)- he excused himself as clearly as he could- "Mi mamá me enseñó un poco." (My mom taught me a little).

- "Mi mamá también me enseñó" (my mom taught me too)- the girl smiled and recapped- "So, we've got Michael James, Raymond Manuel..."- she looked at Gerard. He sighed, stubbing out the cigarette he was smoking.

- "Arthur."

- "Fancy, and?"- she turned to Frank and he smiled

- "Anthony"

- "Frank Anthony? Could you be anymore Jersey?"- she simply added the second the waiter arrived with their drinks.

- "And fries, on the house"- he added and cut Joey a smile.

- "Thank you"- she simply answered and grabbed one right away. Mikey chuckled and raised an eyebrow as the two of them stared at each other in silence- "What?"

- "He thinks you are flirting."

- "Well, I am not. I am just nice."

- "His dick thinks otherwise"- Mikey added and grinned. Joey frowned in disgust and sipped her beer.

- "There is only one dick I want to picture, and that's my boyfriend's. Thank you very much, Michael James."

Gerard spaced out while everybody was talking. He was lost in thoughts, mainly related to their tour. It would be a long one, and he hadn't been on the road for quite some time. And for some weird unknown reason, this time, he was nervous.

Frank was getting pretty drunk, and Mikey was already wasted. He didn't want to go home, so he drank to forget he knew his wife was cheating. He hadn't told anyone, mostly 'cos he didn't want to feel their pity. Gerard had the impression something was wrong with him, and it bothered him that his little brother refused to share it. They always talked about anything. Why would it be any different now?

- "Are you ok?"- Ray asked Mikey when he noticed he was falling asleep on the table- "I'm gonna take you home."

- "I don't wanna go home, just let me here for a while,"- he mumbled.

- "Do you want to go for some fresh air?"- Joey asked him- "I could use some with all the smoke from these guys"- Mikey looked at her for a second and nodded- "Cool, can you walk?"

- "Yeah, I'm ok"- he stumbled as he stood up and clumsily walked outside.

- "What the fuck is wrong with him?"- Frank asked and turned to Gerard, who had just lit another cigarette.

- "I have no idea."

- "He hasn't told you shit?"

- "No, he keeps saying everything is ok."

Gerard was pissed now 'cause his brother was closed entirely to talk to him.

- "Why does he rather talk to her instead? and why is she so nice to him? With their private jokes and shit already".

Mikey stood against the wall and lit another cigarette. Joey looked at her phone for the hundredth time and sighed. No message from Matthew. She knew he had to work late nights sometimes, but she wanted him to be with her this single time. Yes, she was having fun with the band, but now it was official they would be apart for a long time, and she missed him already.

- "So, do you wanna talk about it?"- the girl elbowed Mikey after some long minutes of silence.

- "Not really."

- "That's cool, we don't have to talk"- both stayed muted for another while. The girl felt how Mikey slowly rested his arm and body next to her, standing by her side and pretty much bracing against her.

- "My wife is cheating,"- he whispered suddenly. And it hurt him to say it out loud, 'cos it made it real. That's why he didn't want to share it with anyone. Joey didn't know how to respond at that, so she just rested her head against him and sighed.

- "I'm sorry."

- "Me too"- silence hung among them one more time. Mikey kept smoking, and Joey kept thinking about what to say. But she had nothing.

- "Please don't tell the guys,"- the bassist asked after a while- "I don't want them to know."

- "Noted. My lips are sealed"- the girl whispered and cut him a short smile- "She is an asshole if you ask me."

Mikey snorted and wiped off the tears that slowly had started falling from his eyes.

- "Thanks."

- "I mean it. You seem to be an amazing guy, and I just met you like three days ago."

- "Apparently, after three years, I can be pretty boring."

- "Don't be stupid"- Joey kept her head on his shoulder, and the two of them remained still for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word- "Mikey?"

- "Yes?"

- "Are you gonna puke?"

- "Maybe... but not now."

- "You are very functional to be intoxicated."

- "Not my first time."

- "Are you a pro of the booze?"- Mikey finally chuckled, and Joey moved from his side to stand right in front of him- "Hey if you need someone to take care of her, I have a shotgun and a shovel. I don't think anyone is gonna miss that cheater."

Mikey now laughed, and the girl grinned, feeling her job was done.

- "And I mean it."

- "I'm gonna catch a rain check on that."

- "Good, wanna go back in there?"

- "They are gonna ask what's going on."

- "We can tell them we were making out. They won't question that"- Joey simply answered. Mikey laughed again and punched her arm softly- "We'll tell them we were out here and stood in an awkward silence 'cos we barely know each other."

- "You are funny."

- "No, you are drunk. You are an easy audience. When you are sober, I'm gonna have to use my top-notch material to crack a smile out of you."

- "Hey, what are you guys doing?"- Matthew's voice made Joey jump, surprised to find him smiling next to her.

- "Akumu! You are here! Finally!"

- "Yeah, I'm sorry I'm so late, Yami"- he kissed her sweetly, wrapping his arms around her waist, and then turned to Mikey- "Nice to see you"- they shook hands.

- "Nice to see you too... hey, can I ask something very random here?"- Mike slurred.

- "Shoot,"- Gubler answered with a big grin.

- "What the fuck Yami and ak... whatever mean?"- and the girl chuckled at Mikey's confused expression and explained.

- "They are cute Japanese names. Akumu means nightmare, and Yami means darkness"- the youngest Way stared at them with a smile.

- "Shit, you are adorable"- and after that, he took a step aside- "Ok kids, I'm gonna head inside so you can make out in peace."

- "Are you sure? This could be your chance to make out with the guy you think is a total hottie"- Matthew frowned and looked at Joey, completely confused- "I'll explain to you later."

- "Please don't"- Mikey chuckled and cut them a smile before he disappeared into the bar. Gubler looked at his girlfriend and kissed her one more time, slipping his tongue slowly between her lips, making her shiver. He was a teaser.

- "Hi"- she whispered, and he smiled sweetly.

- "Hey, what's wrong with him? he was way too drunk."

- "He is just sad. I was cheering him up."

- "What happened?"

- "Problems with his wife"- Joey whispered and sighed as she played with the seam of Matthew's shirt- "I missed you."

- "Really?"- he asked with a deep voice and wrapped his arms around her waist- "And about that late-night bite you talked about?"

- "I'm hungry enough to bite you right here,"- she murmured and bit his shoulder softly, making him let out the sexiest groan Joey had ever heard. She stared at him and bit her lower lips, waiting for his reaction.

- "Ok, let's go home, now!"

- "Fine with me, let me get my things and say goodbye"- Joey grabbed her boyfriend's hand and walked with him into the bar.

- "Is everybody here?"

- "Yeah, we were just having a beer or eleven in Mikey's case."

- "Wait"- Matthew stopped Joey on his way over the table and held her tight one more time. Gerard saw them from a distance and held his breath for a second as he watched Gubler cupping his girlfriend's face and kissing her fiercely.

- "What is it?"- Ray asked and turned to see what Gerard was staring at- "Hey! Matthew's here!"- Ray waved and let all of his New Jersey accent show.

- "I thought he had stood her up,"- Frank said, staring at the scene. The actor held Joey close and kissed her deeply.

- "Yeah, me too"- Gerard answered, his eyes glued at the couple making out.

- "I'm gonna puke"- Mikey announced and quickly ran to the bathroom. Gerard woke up from his trance and stood up fastly to help his brother. Frank lit the twentieth cigarette of the night and watched as Joey and Matthew walked over.

- "What happened with Mikey?"- the girl asked, confused.

- "He had to go to the bathroom"- Ray explained as he moved and shook Gubler's hand- "Nice to see you again, man."

- "Thank you, nice to see you too"- he smiled and then turned to Frank- "Hi! How are you?"

- "Good, thanks"- Frank simply answered and watched how Joey grabbed her purse and jacket.

- "We are gonna go"- she announced and cut her new band member's a quick smile.

- "But we just ordered some nachos and more fries from your new boyfriend"- Ray answered and devilishly smiled at her.

- "Shut up!"- the girl quickly answered and hit his arm. Matthew frowned as he stared at the scene. It seemed his girlfriend had grown closer with those guys at high speed. He didn't see that coming after how nasty they had been with her the last time he saw them.

- "At least wait for the guys"- Ray added, and Joey nodded, knowing it was the right thing to do.

She still felt she was walking on eggshells around the band, especially with Gerard. And so the couple sat down, and Joey offered Matthew a sip of her beer. Frank looked at them- a little drunker- and didn't say a word. Something about the scene bothered him, but he couldn't figure out what.

- "So, how was work today?"- he asked his girlfriend, and she nodded.

- "Good, I'm working with this shitty small band. They were hopeless and needed my help"- Joey answered and felt how Ray messed with her hair right away, making her giggle. Matthew laughed, but only on the outside. This really felt weird. Why were they so friendly if they hated her the first time. Yeah, he was happy she had the job, and they were all being nice, but it simply made him feel uncertain. Until it hit him.

- "Shit! I'm jealous."

- "Hey!"- Mikey sort of yelled as he stood next to Joey and shook her shoulders- "You are still here! I thought you were nailing this hot dude already!!"

- "Can you stop telling me how hot my boyfriend is?"- Joey shouted and laughed as Mikey kept shaking her shoulders.

- "Nope, kid!"

- "Come on, Michael James."

- "I won't stop... Latin Iceland girl with an unpronounceable last name!"- Mikey slurred part of that sentence, but Joey figured out what he was trying to say.

- "Ok, sit down,"- Gerard said as he pulled his little's brother sleeve and forced him to sit again- "Hey Matthew"- the elder Way brother smiled waved- "We thought you were not gonna make it."

- "Yeah, sorry. It was a long night at work, but I wasn't gonna leave my girl alone on her first day at work."

- "And are you still mad she signed without a lawyer?"- Mikey asked, and Joey froze.

- "What?"- Gubler turned to his girlfriend, and she tried to smile all innocent.

- "He overheard our conversation."

- "You were yelling in a parking lot, everybody around could hear you"- Mikey "drunken" Way grinned and lit a cigarette- "Don't worry, she didn't say anything, I just stood next to her and annoyed her until she talked to you, and everything got better."

Matthew nodded uncomfortably and turned to his girlfriend, nodding.

- "Yeah, we are gonna go"- Joey stood up and smiled at the band- "It was a great evening. Tomorrow I'll bring Mikey a dark coffee."

- "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou!!"- Gerard shouted all of a sudden, pointing his finger at the actor without any context- "That's where I saw you!!."

And he felt pretty relieved to figure out why that guy's face looked so familiar. But that still didn't help him find out why he bothered to see him right there.

- "Hi guys!"- Lynz showed up, and everybody greeted her with -still- the most Jersey accent anyone could do. Joey and Matthew stood still, staring at the scene confused.

- "Hello!"- Joey reached out her hand at the woman who had just appeared and smiled at her- "That's an amazing lipstick"- and Lynz chuckled.

- "Thank you, I'm Lynz Way."

- "Nice to meet you. I'm María Josefina Sveinbjörndottir."

- "Fuck! You are gonna have to write that down,"- Gerard's wife added and turned to her husband to kiss him and cuddle next to him. Joey smiled again and waved.

- "Ok, kids, we are leaving."

- "Come on! I just got here! And I was dying to meet you! You must be an amazing drummer to break into these guys' band."

- "But they wanna bang!"- Mikey drunken Way added, and Joey blushed right away- "See? That's undeniable"- Gubler, Lynz, and Ray burst out laughing, but no one else thought it was that funny.

- "Come on, kids! Stay for another beer,"- Ray asked them, and Joey nodded.

- "Fine, but only because you are paying."

- "I am not!"- Toro grimaced and shook his head no- "Actually, you should be the one buying. You are the new one!"

- "Yeah!! Another round!!"- Mikey raised his arms excitedly, and Joey closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

- "I am not buying tonight. Can we do this again as soon as I get my first paycheck?"

- "Fine,"- Ray answered and sighed- "But next time is gonna be epic"- another round of beers reached the table (the third diet coke for Gerard), and the band cheered.

- "To our new drummer!"- Frank said and smiled at Joey- "Good luck!"

- "Thank you, and thank you all for being so nice and welcoming. You've made this slightly less awkward than I expected."

The girl chortled and turned to her boyfriend. Matthew looked a little uncomfortable at the moment. He cut her a short smile, and she kissed his cheek.

- "Thank you for being here, Akumu. I love you."

- "Aren't you fucking adorable!!"- Mikey babbled, absolutely wasted- "You should marry and have a million babies!"

- "You are scaring me, Michael James"- Joey beamed, and he closed his eyes- "I know you are saying all this 'cos you wanna have Matthew's babies."

- "Ok, what's with that?"- Gubler asked, intrigued- "Why are you saying this guy wanna fuck with me?"

- "'Cause he keeps saying you are way too hot, and he asked me if you would want to join him in one of his sexual fantasies"- the whole table guffawed as the girl explained.

- "I just said he was hot, you added the rest of the speech,"- Mikey tried to explain, but nobody paid much attention to his words 'cos they were still laughing. Joey grinned at the bassist, and he stuck his tongue at her in the most childish way ever.

- "Sorry, dude"- Matthew caught his breath and wiped off the tears of laughter that filled his eyes- "But there is only one person's sexual fantasies I'll join."

And he wrapped an arm around Joey's waist. The way he did it, though, it felt more like he was making a possession statement than a simple explanation. At least that's what Frank felt as he stared at the couple.

He had grown silent as he sipped his beer and sighed. Gerard had done exactly the same, being quiet the whole time and holding his wife's hand. He felt guilty every time he looked at Joey, so he ended the evening staring at his empty diet coke can while he smoked.

Lynz kept talking with Joey about their experiences being the girl in a boys environment. And they kicked off great. The drummer felt she had just met someone who got exactly what she felt like every day at every job. And the artist felt Joey was the nicest person to join the band. But still, even though her boyfriend kept kissing her and she looked at him in adoration, there was something that bothered Lynz. And she couldn't define it yet.

- "Ok, guys. Now we are gonna go,"- Joey said and stood up. Matthew Gray put some money on the table to cover their share of the drinks and smiled. Joey hated that. She wanted to be the one setting the money. But she didn't have any. It gave her certain peace to know with the new job. She actually had a job to pay for her own drinks.

- "It was really nice to see you again."

- "We have to do this again before we kick out the tour"- Ray raised his beer, already a little drunk, and gave Gubler a sincere smile.

- "Sure! How many days before you leave?"

- "Six"- Frank quickly answered- "October 23rd, we start the tour in London."

- "In London!"- Matthew and Joey yelled at the same time, laughing.

- "What?"- Frank asked, confused.

- "Sorry, old joke"- Joey sighed as she calmed down and smiled- "Anyway, see you guys Monday?"- and they all nodded- "Ok kids, have a great weekend"- her and Matthew waved and walked out of the bar hand in hand.

- "You didn't say she was cute,"- Lynz said right away and turned to her husband.

- "She is not cute"- he quickly answered and frowned, almost insulted- "She is hot as fuck"- his brain added, but no word left his lips.

- "Sure she is, guys?"- Lynz looked at the rest of the band, and they all shook their heads.

- "Yeah, she is pretty, but not like a girl I would go out with,"- Ray explained- "She is like a little sister."

- "Yeah!"- Frank added immediately- "Like that annoying little sister"- and Ray nodded- "You lying little rat, you've stared at her ass longer than at her face today!"- a voice in his head yelled, but he decided to ignore it.

- "I would nail her,"- Mikey said and finished another beer- "But I won't."

- "Wow! that was way too much info"- Gerard wide opened his eyes and raised his hands in shock- "Keep those thoughts in your head and your dick in your pants for the next tour, please! Besides, you are a married man!"

- "I know, I was just saying I would, I won't. But if she wasn't in the band and I was single, I would"- Ray frowned, disgusted, and Frank chuckled nervously. He felt the same way, but he was never going to say it out loud.

Gerard stood up and walked to the bathroom on his own. He stood against the closed door after he peed and tried to rearrange his thoughts.

- "I don't like her boyfriend, I didn't like being with her and my wife at the same time, and I would fuck her if I weren't married. I don't even care about her being in the band. If I were single, I would take her to my house right away. And who cares about her boyfriend? I know she wouldn't refuse to be with me"- Gerard hit his head against the door and closed his eyes.

- "Ok, stop this. She is your coworker. You have a wife you love very much. You have to stop being a horny asshole"- he clenched his fist and took a deep breath- "I knew having her in the band was a bad idea, but I never thought it would escalate this fast."

Taglist: @all-tings-diego

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#matthew gray gubler #gerard way #frank iero #babymetaldoll writes #mikey way #fanfiction #fanfic #ray toro #fluff #mgg #mcr #my chemical romance

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floralovebot · 4 years ago

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I often don't make things for poc because I'm scared of whitewashing them. Can you link to the tutorials that show how to go about this or could you explain it yourself? I'm always too scared of making things with poc in them and I don't want to whitewash anyone so advice would be amazing!

hi! i guess i could share the things i know about it but i do want to clarify that i’m not an expert at editing! so, if you want really indepth help, it would probably be best to ask someone else!

as for tutorials, these are the ones that have personally helped me! this one by @fadenet (specifically pale/pastel gifs including characters with dark skin), this one by @blueshelp (specifically about east asian and southeast asian celebs), and this one by @kispesan (specifically about edits). this is a post with a ton of resources for gif making, including things about coloring and other anti-whitewashing tutorials (highly recommend!).

when it comes to what i do, it really depends on what i’m making! i’ve made a couple of edits specifically about unwhitewashing characters of color which you can find here for examples, but overall what i do really depends on the kind of edit i’m working with.

i’d also like to quickly say that i use photoshop! while the basic coloring will cross into other programs, some of the tools/names might be different.

lets use an edit of the character aisha from winx club as an example! in season 8 of winx club, the characters aisha and flora (both having dark skin) were whitewashed. the following pictures are a screenshot from the series, showing the whitewashing, and the same sc but edited to reflect her original skin tone and hair color.

in this edit, i actually went in and recolored her skin using the brush tool (yes, it takes a hot minute to do, but you get faster the more you do it). the reason i do this for picture edits, is purely a personal preference. i like having the control of only editing the parts i want to edit and keeping the rest of the picture the same as before. personally, i don’t love using the selection tools so when i don’t need to,, well, i don’t.

if you have the time, patience, and ability to physically recolor still pictures, i’d definitely recommend it! it allows you to use the eyedropper tool on the original skin tone which makes for a much more accurate edit. taking advantage of the selection tools and paint bucket tool can make the process a lot quicker too!

now, lets use a different method, one that i personally use for things like videos and gifs (basically, anything moving)!

these gifs come from the same season as the above example and as you can see, aisha is heavily whitewashed in the first one. now, this is where coloring becomes your best friend!

so, you have your gif ready for coloring, maybe you used a psd/filter or you did your own thing, regardless, the person in the gif is whitewashed and you want to fix it. so, what do you do? (now, obviously this is just one example. there are many others ways to do this!). what i do, is almost exclusively use the hue/saturation and the color selection layers (i will occasionally use the brightness and curves layers depending on the scene)!

^^this little “guide” or whatever shows what you need to find for this tutorial.

the first thing you should do, is figure out which colors primarily make up the person’s skin tone. a good way to figure this out is by using a hue/saturation layer. click the hue/saturation, which will show a menu similar to the one in the picture, and go through each color and turn the saturation all the way down, so it says -100. don’t mess with the hue or lightness levels yet, just the saturation. this will show which colors make up the person’s skin tone! as an extreme example, if someone’s skin was green and you turned the saturation of greens all the way down, that person’s skin wouldn’t look green anymore, it’d look like someone put on a black and white filter specifically for the color green. just keep a close eye on what changes! now, this saturation change is just temporary! after you know which colors are in that person’s skin tone, you can just delete the hue/saturation layer. (you really only need to do this if you aren't used to coloring darker skin. once you get used to it, you likely won't need to, but it can still be a good reference point if you're lost on what to do)

so, after figuring out what colors you need to focus on, go to the selective colors layers, so you can edit just those colors! for our example here, aisha’s skin tone is mostly made up of reds and yellows while her hair is mostly reds and magentas. when i’m editing her skin tone and hair color, i only focus on those colors. in the selective color layer menu, you have four other colors to control; cyan, magenta, yellow, and black. although it would help, you don’t need to know everything about colors or color theory for this! just mess around with the colors sliders until you get something close to their original skin tone. you may need multiple layers of selective colors to get this right! don’t panic if it doesn’t happen right away, just keep going.

something i think is incredibly important during this step, is having a picture of that person/character open! that way you can actually go back and forth to see if what you’re doing is close. another tip, having another file open with a completely white background with a colored circle of that person’s base skin tone on it really helps. this way you can use the eyedropper and brush tools to see how close what you have in the edit is to the original (basically, use the eyedropper tool to select the skin tone in the edit and then use the brush tool to color it next to the circle of the original skin tone. this helps you see up close how similar they are!). here's an example!

the first example is from the gif and the second is from the still picture edit! you'll notice that the gif example doesn't match up exactly because in that specific scene aisha was directly in sunlight, making her skin slightly brighter than usual, while the photo i used for reference has normal lighting. remember to pay attention to things like lighting and shadows!

now, at this point you might be thinking, “this tutorial only shows what to do for animated characters and i make edits with real people :(”. don’t worry! the second method still works! here’s an example using a real person, kim taehyung from the group bts.

obviously, this isn’t perfect because i spent like. two minutes on it. so the skin is blotchy, the lips are too red, and the background changed. but the way i edited it is mostly the same as the gif example i used! the only difference being that i also used a color balance level to darken up the whole picture. however, besides that i did the exact same things as i did with the gifs of aisha above. if you're making edits with real people, then just do whatever you usually do to make sure it looks more realistic.

i hope all of this made sense? i’ve never done a tutorial before and basically all of what i’ve said has already been said! but here are some more tips for the road:

-when editing black people/characters, don’t make their skin red

-when editing indigenous people/characters, don’t make their skin red

-when editing east asian and southeast asian people/characters, don’t make their skin yellow

-pay attention to lighting! if a scene has darker lighting, skin will look darker than it is!

-on the flip side, if a character is right in front of a very bright light, their skin will look lighter

-don’t avoid the colors red and yellow, especially for people with tan/darker skin. those colors are always essential. they won’t look bad in your pastel edit.

-don’t be afraid to ask for help! if you have mutuals who make edits you can try asking them. or even making a separate post asking for help from any followers that edit! basically, if you truly don’t know what to do, either look it up or ask for help.

-do not just post the whitewashed edit/gif/art with the excuse that it’s, “just the filter” or “just the psd”. take responsibility for what you’ve created.

-if you’re using a filter/psd and you really can’t figure out how to unwhitewash someone.. use a different filter! ik you might really like the one you picked, but that doesn’t excuse racism. there are lots of filters/psds out there that don’t whitewash. use one.

i’m gonna be honest, unwhitewashing is really easy as long as you know how to work whatever program you’re using. and even if you just started, it’s still pretty simple! if you’re scared of making edits with poc because of whitewashing, learn how to not whitewash.

anyway i hope this helps? let me know if something doesn't make sense or needs more explaining! but i'd really recommend looking at the tutorials i linked as they're more in-depth and offer a lot of insight!

#hnng let me know if something doesnt make sense im a little stupid #photoshop #photoshop tutorial #coloring tutorial #anti whitewashing #anonymous #answered #mine.edits #(kind of?)

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years ago

Text

With Cherries On Top

Chapter 3: The Ring & The Save

Summary/Author’s Note: I’m so fucking excited for you all to read this I am like BOUNCING. Max in all of his glory being a fucking SHIT. But we love him dearly.

You and Max start learning a little more about each other. Your current predicament calls for a drink...or seven. And the two of you land in Alaska to meet your family. @pedropascalsource for gif credit. Look at that fucking shit and that grin...it happens a lot in this chapter as he starts to schmooze your family.

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader (The Proposal AU) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: R/18+ - drinking, alcohol, sass, so much sass, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, Max is a bastard man but he is...getting better?, also does he own casual clothes?

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [MASTERLIST]

You had taken Tylenol before you even went through security, but at this point you were pretty sure the entire bottle would not have prepared you for flying with Max Phillips. The non stop flight from JFK to Juno was almost ten hours and you had thought multiple times about stabbing your eardrums out with an ink pen. It wasn't that the flight was bad, in fact the flight itself was quite nice. First class was definitely a new experience but you could get used to it. The padded leather seats and extra leg room meant you could lean back and stretch. You propped yourself up with a pillow, and a book and was content to relax. There was just one problem, Max.

His presence was about as loud as he was and he insisted on chatting up the cute stewardesses, reading over your shoulder, and reminding you almost every fifteen minutes that this flight was boring. He at one point in time asked if you wanted to join the mile-high club and you fought the urge to snap your book shut and smack him with it.

The flight attendant walked by and asked if you needed anything and you sat up and gave her a warm smile.

"Yeah, um, I'll take a vodka cranberry, please."

Max raised an eyebrow and looked at you, "It's nine thirty in the morning."

"Oh, shoot. You're right!" You threw yourself over his lap and leaned into the isle to catch the attendant. Max grunted from the sudden weight of you and you bit back a grin. "I'm sorry, can you make it a Bloody Mary? Thank you."

You leaned back into your seat and opened the binder from immigration. Max dusted off his slacks and continued to look at you with curious disdain.

"Maybe you should eat something first?"

"It comes with celery, I think." You said without looking up. You could feel his eyes on you but refused to give him the satisfaction that it bothered you. The words on the page were suddenly the most interesting thing you had ever seen in your life and when he gave a heavy sigh, you grinned.

The attendant came back with your drink and you smiled as she set it on your fold out table tray.

"Is that the binder from I.N.S?" Max said and you nodded as you wrapped your lips around your straw and drank deep.

"Yup, and we have one week to learn all of this about each other. Which will be easy for me, because I can answer all of these questions about you--but you know nothing about me." You looked up and glared as he snatched the binder from you and started flipping through it.

"You expect me to believe you know all of this about me?"

"I do," you took another drink and turned in your seat to face him. "You never stop talking about yourself--and I've been listening to it for five years."

"Well," he said, flipping the page dramatically and looking at you with a grin. "I am my favorite subject."

"At least you can admit it."

He sat back in his seat and crossed his ankle over his knee, balancing the binder on his leg. "Alright, let's have at it then. What's my favorite color?"

"Red." You said without hesitation. "Which is ironic now, all things considered." He ignored the quip about his vampiric state and you leaned over the seat, making your drink slurp obnoxiously. "You know? Because of the blood--"

"Yes, I get the joke, dear." He moved his finger down the page. "What am I allergic to?"

"Soy, gluten," you ticked off on your fingers before waving your hand. "And a whole spectrum of human emotion."

"Are you going to be like this the whole time?" He looked at you exasperatedly and you shrugged. He sighed and shook his head. "Where did I grow up?"

"Transylvania."

"Okay. I'm done." He snapped the binder shut and you almost felt bad...almost.

"No! Okay, okay, come on, Max. I'm sorry," you put your hand on his arm and he looked down at it, making you pull back like he had burned you. "Queens. You grew up in queens. See?"

"Well, you grew up in Sitka. One down. Only two hundred and ninety-nine more questions to go."

You groaned and threw yourself over Max's lap again and held up your finger. "Excuse me, Ma'am?" You hailed the attendant. "Another Bloody Mary, please."

"Will you please, get off of me?" Max said, and you finished your drink and gave his nose a playful tweak.

You plopped back into your seat and leaned back against the headrest. "Next question."

"Do I have any scars?" He turned in his seat to mirror you.

"You have a pretty bad one on your knee. I see it every time you have your meetings with Ted. A.K.A--racquetball." Max nodded, indicating that you were correct and you continued. "So, what's it from? College sports, I'm guessing. What pretentious, frat-boy sport did you play? Soccer? Lacrosse?" You gasped and put a hand to your mouth. "Ultimate Frisbee?"

"You're very funny." He sneered and shook his head. "And I'm not telling you."

"What about me, Max? Do I have any scars?" You switched up the game. Proving that you knew everything about him wasn't going to get you very far with the government unless he could return the favor.

"No," he leaned in and lowered his voice. "But I'm pretty sure you have a tattoo."

You choked on your drink and the action made him smile. Taking a deep breath and a moment to wipe the tomato juice off of your sleeve, you glared at him. "Pretty sure?"

"Yes, when you had the nerve to be out with the flu and they stuck me with that idiotic temp, she accidentally transferred one of your calls to me. It was to confirm that you wanted to cancel your appointment with a laser removal company." He balanced his chin on his palm and continued to give you a smug grin. He was enjoying this now and it was suddenly a lot less fun.

"What are you getting at detective Phillips?"

"So, what is it?"

"No way," you took another large sip and blushed, turning away from him. "I'm not telling you."

"You know they're going to ask. I have to know. Is it a dolphin? An infinity symbol?...'live, laugh, love'?" He gave a mock gasp and put a hand to his mouth. He was imitating your earlier jest about his scar. This was still a game to him and all you had managed to do was encourage it by baiting him.

"You know, I really am glad you're having fun with this, but do remember I could go to prison. Give me that--" you snatched the binder back from him and he let you have it. "Next question. Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?"

"That's easy," he kicked back in his chair and folded his hands on top of his chest. The action made you realize just how long he was. Between his broad shoulders and impressive calves, he barely fit in the chair. It had to be the alcohol talking. "We stay at mine," he said simply, drawing your gaze from his body.

"Why wouldn't we stay at mine?"

"Because I live at Central Park West. And you no doubt live in some squalid little studio apartment full of houseplants and a dusty, lonely, wine rack that you never use, because it's for guests you never have." He waved his hand as if imagining it and your jaw dropped.

You stayed quiet and closed the binder placing it in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of him. The small bursts of moments when Max wasn't being an asshole, it was easy to forget how real this was. He was charming and you both threw it back at one another so easily that it felt like a game. But when his real nature came roaring back to life and his dig against you was just a tad too deep--well, you didn't want to play anymore.

"What are you doing? We have more."

You sucked the rest of your drink down and put it on the edge of the tray for the attendant to take.

"We should get some rest." You said flatly, pulling the thin airline blanket up over your shoulder. "Knowing my mother, she has a big dinner or something planned."

"Wonderful," he said, folding his hands across his chest as he settled back into his seat.

The two of you stayed quiet for the majority of the trip. You frequently looked over your shoulder to see if he was even still next to you, as he didn't make a sound when he breathed. It was unnerving but no doubt had something to do with him being undead. Did he even need to breathe? You had certainly seen him do it. Was it an act? Fuck all of this was going to send your family over the edge.

The last time you pulled back your silk, airline stamped eye mask, Max wasn't in his seat. His table tray was pulled down and sitting on top of it was a small black velvet box. You looked around but he was nowhere to be seen.

Your fingers traced the shape of the box gently before you picked it up and pried it open. The ring that sat inside was stunning. It was gold, with a few small diamonds in the band on each side before leading up to the main piece--a large teardrop ruby rimmed with more diamonds. You weren't sure if the red stone was meant to be a joke but regardless, it was actually very pretty.

It slid over your finger in a perfect fit and you watched it sparkle in the sunlight from the window over your shoulder. Despite your frustrations, you had to admit, Max Phillips continued to be full of surprises.

Seeing Max rattle in his cramped seat while the puddle jumper took you from Juno to Sitka brought you more joy than it should have. His broad shoulders were folded in on themselves as and he was glaring straight ahead like finding a fixed point on the wall would keep him from committing murder. You knew the flight wouldn't be long, and after the amount of Bloody Marys you had consumed on the last plane, you were too buzzed to care.

As soon as your feet stepped down off of the stairs and onto the tarmac, you saw your family, waving and jumping on the side of the airstrip with a 'welcome home' sign. Oh boy. Here we go.

"Chad! Talk to me, champ." Max said loudly and you turned around to see he had put in his Bluetooth. It made you roll your eyes and you didn't bother to wait for him as you started towards your relatives.

Your mother was soft and sweet and the joy you felt as she squealed and threw her arms around your neck couldn't compare to any other kind of happiness. She smelled like home and fresh baked bread, like holiday candles and clean laundry--things that made you think of home. She pulled back to look at you like you had grown so much since she last saw you, despite being practically the same, and you laughed as she kissed each of your cheeks.

"Oh, I missed you!" She said, hugging you again before passing you off to your grandmother.

"Missed you, too, Mom. Hey, Nana," you said as you stooped down to hug the older woman.

Your mom paused and pulled you back close enough to sniff the air in front of you. "Honey, have you been drinking?"

“Oh--” you leaned back and shook your head, which was a mistake as the world spun just a little bit. “Of course not. There was a guy on the plane and he--”

"We don’t care about any of that," Your grandmother waved a hand to stop your mom from continuing to make a fuss over you. "Where's your man??"

You stopped breathing for a moment as you were suddenly reminded that you were lying to the people who loved you the most. With a bite of your lip, you looked over your shoulder and gestured to Max who was slowly making his way over to you and still talking on his earpiece.

"That's him, the one in the suit."

"Oh, my," your mom said, lowering her welcome sign and taking in the sight that was your boss and now assumed lover.

"You've been keeping that from us for five years?" Nana said as she elbowed you in the ribs and your mother glared at her. “He seems a bit overdressed.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing down at your leggings, warm boots, and well worn over sized sweater in comparison to Max’s custom blue suit and silk tie. You hoped to god that Max had brought more suitable clothes for what was supposed to be a relaxing family oriented week in Alaska. “He does, doesn’t he?”

“Chad--I think I lost you. Can you hear me? Hello? Helloooo? Shit.” Max tapped the device in his ear repeatedly as he looked around like he would be able to see where there would be better signal. He had yet to acknowledge either you or your family and you clenched your fists at your side.

“Honey,” you said and Max had the audacity to hold up his finger to you as he continued to turn in a half circle. “Honey.” You tried again and finally you raised your voice curtly, “Max!”

“What?” he hissed and you reached up and took the earpiece out of his ear. It took everything you had not to turn and chuck it into the harbor. You gestured to your mom and grandmother and Max’s face changed into his large and inviting smile.

“We agreed not to bring work onto this trip, it’s family time, right?” You raised an eyebrow and he glared at you. “This is my mom and grandmother,” you gestured to them, keeping a firm hold on his Bluetooth and almost daring him to try and get it back.

“You won’t get any reception on that thing anyway, dear,” your grandma waved to Max and then around to the vast landscape. “Too many trees.” She took a few steps over to him and gave him a hug like he wasn’t a complete stranger. You had to give Max props, he hugged her back and managed not to look entirely uncomfortable as he silently worried she was going to wrinkle his suit. “Now, do you prefer to be called ‘Max’ or ‘Satan Reincarnated’? Because we’ve heard it both ways.” She laughed as she patted his chest and smiled up at him.

“Nana!” You looked at her wide-eyed and Max grinned from ear to ear. How was it that the elderly managed to get away with saying the most inappropriate things?

“Oh, have you?” he glanced at you and you felt your face get hot. “Max is fine. As long as I can call you Nana.” He continued to offer that grin that you knew to be his trademark salesman smile but it made your grandmother positively beam.

“Of course!” she said, patting his chest again and adjusting his pocket square. You ran a hand through your hair wanting to scream.

“Shall we?” You interjected and grabbed your suitcase with one hand and your mother’s arm with another. The two of you walked pointedly towards the edge of the pier and she looked at you with parental concern.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassured with a shake of your head, slowing down for Max and your grandma could catch up. “I’m just tired.” If you continued to lie this much you were certain your nose was going to grow pointed.

Your mother helped the elderly woman down the ladder that connected the main strip to the edge of the pier where the family speedboat was parked. The chill off of the water made you shiver, it was definitely coming up on winter time and with the constant overcast came icy waters and snow. Max was just lucky it wasn’t summer time as the non-stop sunlight would have been an issue.

Looking over the ladder and feeling your body sway without even being on the water, you were starting to regret the amount of drinks you had had on the plane. You put a hand to your lips as a small amount of indigestion came up to the middle of your throat. Max stopped beside you and held his hand out expectantly.

“I’ll take my headset back, thank you,” he snarled and you ignored him. “Are you going to be sick? Pull yourself together--”

“Pull myself together? Pull m--” you shook your head and slapped the small device into his hand. “Unbelievable, you’re unbelievable.”

“This is going to be a long fucking week,” he said, looking at the boat as your family settled in. “I’m not getting in that. I cannot get these wet. They’re Armani.” He gestured to his shoes and you vowed in that moment that if you did wind up vomiting, it would be on those shoes.

“Hence the boat,” you gestured. It was the only way of getting to the island that the tiny town resided on, you were happy to make him swim but somehow you doubted that would go over very well with your family. “Either you climb down or you can stay here and I’ll see you in a week--”

“Fine. Fine.” He stopped arguing and climbed down the ladder, hopping the last few rungs to land firmly on the pier. He held up his arms as you passed down the suitcases and tossed his shoulder bag to him and he placed them in the back of the boat. “Are you coming?” he added impatiently as you leaned heavily on the railing at the top of the ladder.

“Give me a minute,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I told you to eat something. You’re drunk--”

“I am not.” You argued with him, straightening your posture and turning around to climb down the ladder. You were going to prove him wrong even if it meant that you landed on your ass. It was simple, all you needed to do was put one foot down in front of the other and keep a tight hold. Rinse and repeat until your feet were firmly planted on the wooden boards--simple.

“Lookin’ good, sweetheart,” Max said, and you didn’t have to look to know he was staring up at your ass. “Those leggings are nice--are you wearing a thong?”

“Oh my god, shut up, Max,” you paused and leaned your head against the ladder, wanting to both strangle him and dive into the pier and let the ocean take you far away from the week ahead of you. After a few moments, you regained your sense of self and took a few more rungs down.

“Almost there,” he encouraged and you let out a heavy sigh. “There ya go--annnnd, congratulations. I am now five hundred years old.”

“Good for you, old man,” you quipped and tried to push passed him. Your boot caught on one of the loose boards and there was nothing to catch yourself on as you started to tumble. Despite refusing to admit that Max was right, maybe you should have eaten something. Your desperate attempt to forget your current situation was about to land you in the middle of the freezing gulf. You heard your mom gasp from the boat but instead of hitting the water, Max’s arm shot around your waist and pulled you back against his chest with ease.

You stumbled and grabbed the front of his suit coat as you tried to turn around and he tightened his grip. He looked down at you with a grin that was much different than the one he had been giving your family. “Got ya.”

“Nice going, Max!” your grandmother cheered and you knew there would be no living with him after this.

“Thank you,” you said curtly and tried to move from his arms but he didn’t release you.

“What, no kiss?” he smirked, keeping his voice low enough that your family couldn't hear him. “I did just save your life.”

“Let. go. of. me. Max.” You said through gritted teeth and you braced for him to force a kiss on you for the sake of your family, but to your surprise, he released you. The way he watched you as you climbed into the boat, all dark eyes and wide grin, sent a shiver down your spine.

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