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#sorry for the tag but i gotta shoot my shot
hummingbird-hooligan · 10 months
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i would literally do anything to get high and go to 7/11 with @quiddie and the burrow's end table... the vibes would be so good...
aabria you're doing great champ love the stoat trauma
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talaok · 1 year
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I love your writing! And because of that, I thought of something that I would like you to create for us, the reader and Pedro are dating. they have been separated for a few months due to recording some of Pedro's projects, in the middle of these recordings he gave some interviews and in one of them the interviewer flirted with him, and he kindly(?) and habitually flirted back, the reader is now leaving the airport and arriving at the hotel where they would meet and her cell phone keeps beeping with fans (and nasty people) who are tagging her in the flirty part of the interview... she arrives at the hotel and confronts him, this is a little anguish? I leave the ending in your hands, thank you for your incredible stories!
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader
a/n: thank you for reading them, babe!💗💗
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"hi sweetheart" he smiled, as soon as you opened the door, wrapping his arms around you "I've missed you so much"
You had to take a deep breath to not tell him to fuck off right there and then.
Look at him, acting so sweet and kind while your phone was blowing up with clips of him flirting with another woman.
The perfect fucking boyfriend no?
"Hi daddy" and although the word would have usually sounded hot and sexy, you made sure it was traced with as much annoyance as possible.
"Uhm... ok?" he frowned, leaning away.
"What? You seemed to like it so much when Lidia said it" You shrugged, walking in and dropping your baggage at the door "You don't like it as much when it's your girlfriend saying it?"
He closed the door and leaned his back on it as he tried to understand what was going on.
Everything was fine when he talked to you this morning, what could have changed in only a few hours?
"I'm- I'm sorry, who's Lidia?"
You shot him a look, looking just as done as you were feeling.
"Don't play dumb Pedro, you know very well who she is"
He looked around the room as if a clue on what to say would just appear any minute.
"sugar, what are you talking about?"
"oh my god," you sighed "the interviewer, Pedro!"
"the interviewer? What interviewer?"
"You gotta be kidding me" you exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose "The one you spent a full ten minutes flirting with yesterday!"
And at that, his eyes widened in realization and puzzlement combined.
"Flirting? I wasn't flirting" he said, walking toward you 
"No? So you go around calling mama every woman you see?" you asked, "You tell every woman they're beautiful and that their dress looks really good on them? Is that it?"
"No baby, but-"
"but what?" you cut him off "How would you feel if I did that? If I flirted with the men who interview me huh?"
"That's different I-"
"Oh fuck off" you muttered, turning away from him. You couldn't stand the sight of him anymore.
"Baby, it's part of the job!" he burst 
Your hands curled into fists at your sides as you turned back around.
"Flirting is part of the job!?"
"No- you know what I mean, I have this whole persona online, and I..." he sighed not really knowing what to say
"That's not a good enough excuse" you spoke "Just 'cause people expect certain things from you doesn't mean you should do them. I told you I was fine with the whole daddy thing, but now you go around calling people mama? that's a bit much, don't you think?" you said "And I don't know... I didn't like how you were talking and looking at her, it didn't make me feel good ok?"
He swallowed, taking in your words "Ok, I-I'm sorry, really, but I was just being polite, it didn't mean anything"
You only needed to shoot him a look to make him rethink his choice of words.
"No, you're right." he cleared his throat "I went too far, I-I won't do it again, I promise" he spoke more softly now, as one of his hands reached your cheek to stroke it "I'm sorry baby, please forgive me"
You looked up at him, biting the inside of your cheek as you decided what to do.
"It didn't mean anything?" you asked
"No, of course not baby, I love you, I only have eyes for you, you know that"
"I know..." you bit your bottom lip "It's just that she... well she was really pretty"
A soft smile pulled at his lips 
"And you're the most beautiful woman in the universe" he promised, "so what?"
A shy blush crept up your cheeks as your lips involuntarily twitched into a smile.
"Ok" you nodded, as his other hand settled onto your waist
"Ok?" he smiled, hopeful "You're not mad anymore?"
"nope" you shook your head
A smile from ear to ear spread on his lips
"oh thank god" he breathed "'cause I've missed kissing you so fucking much, sweetheart"
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for-a-longlongtime · 7 months
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About shooting Triple Frontier, singing Moana songs on set, and The Hat
(disclaimer: this post includes some pap shots at the end, sorry. I'm conflicted about sharing them, even though these are really old at this point, but just given you a heads up in case you want to skip it - I've cropped them to show the hat on Oscar)
I've been meaning to make a post about this sooner, because a while ago I came across the Happy Sad Confused podcast (2019) where Oscar talks about shooting Triple Frontier - and it had some interesting things in it that weren't in the group promo for the movie. E.g. he talks about how he has videos of Pedro and Garrett singing Moana songs while holding assault rifles, "that's quite a bit of a mindfuck" (that tracks, I remember Bella talking about singing Moana songs with Pedro on the TLOU set).
About making the characters their own and bringing the story to the screen:
"There was not a ton of dialogue or backstory that you get to see about these guys. So there was an element of how do you show these people, how do you not make them anonymous? That didn't necessarily just jump out of the page. So a lot of that is trusting JC, and particularly trusting him in the edit. That's where he just, he really shines a lot - you can feel and trust that you can try a bunch of stuff. Things might not go great when you're shooting your production - the other was definitely a lot of like wrestling with ideas and things -, but in the edit, he sticks with it and he stays at it, and he is relentless."
At one point Oscar is asked about the Standard Heating Oil hat in the movie. For those of you who do not know the background story there; several years before Triple Frontier, Oscar worked with JC Chandor on a movie titled A Most Violent Year. He played Abel Morales, a Colombian born businessman who lives in Westchester, NY and owns the Standard Heating Oil company.
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And we all know the hat Frankie (Morales...) wears in Triple Frontier:
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Josh Horowitz from the Happy Sad Confused podcast is a real movie nerd, so he asked Oscar about it mentioning the JC Chandor Cinematic Universe. Here's what Oscar said:
"I know. That was, I gotta say, that was me, because I was like 'Can I, can I wear the Standard Hat?', and then he [JC] started thinking like 'Yeah, maybe', but then he was like 'It's too much, but Pedro can wear it'. And I was like okay, alright!"
Which brings me to my last point...
We know about those beach pics that were snapped of Oscar, Garrett, Charlie -- and then another set of them with Pedro and Tom Ben -- when they were in Hawaii to shoot Triple Frontier, right? As Oscar mentions in the interview, it seems like someone from the team [I'm assuming he means crew] ended up tipping off the paps for those photo ops.
I just randomly came across a much bigger set of those photos than I've seen before, and my heart suddenly stopped. Because...
...Oscar is wearing Frankie's hat?
Oscar is wearing FRANKIE'S STANDARD HEATING OIL HAT.
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I mean.
I know it is/was Oscar's hat first, and I think it was @legendary-pink-dot who mentioned that a bunch of people on the crew had them, but as far as I can see, this was the only moment he was captured wearing it - so I love it. I'm having a moment.
If you haven't heard Oscar on Happy Sad Confused before, check out the podcast here.
tagging some folks for heads up: @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @magpiepills @perotovar @romanarose @penvisions @prolix-yuy @writefightandflightclub @ezrasbirdie @astroboots @pimosworld @alltheglitterandtheroar @nerdieforpedro @wardenparker
ok my brain is asleep at this point, so consider this a tag for everybody
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alyssaforevermore · 5 months
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Unearthed ↦ Daryl Dixon season two, part three
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Synopsis: Based on the events of The Walking Dead television series, Y/N Grimes, younger sister of Rick Grimes, attempts to survive in a world now inhabited by walkers. Family has always meant everything to her, but in this new world, can she keep her family safe and together?
Show: The Walking Dead (S1-S11)
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Warnings: coarse language, violence, character deaths, drug and alcohol references, series spoilers and general The Walking Dead content warnings!
Tags: @1ivinqdeadqir1 @callmeyn @thegeorgiahuntsman @mellxander1993 @bigbaldheadname @cjmonsterwolf @abbi23323 @actuallyklee @lanxsee @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetz1919 @moonmark98 @sarahbaker2010 @ririi-3 @ryoujoking @hayley1998 @crazyunsexycool @gabriella-aesthetic @dixons-sunshine
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You stood there, your heart pounding in your chest as the woman’s words echoed in your head; Carl’s been shot. A million questions began to flood your mind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice them. It felt almost as if the air had been sucked out of your lungs.
“He's still alive but you've gotta come now.” The woman continued, but Lori didn’t budge. “Rick needs you, just come!”
Lori looked back at you for a moment and without thinking, you nodded for her to go. She turned back to the woman, nodding as she climbed on the back of her horse.
“Woah!” Daryl called out. “We don’t know this girl. You can’t go with her.”
“Rick said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl?” The woman asked, ignoring Daryl.
Glenn nodded. “Y-Yeah.”
“Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm.” The woman clutched the reins of the horse tight in her hands. “You'll see the mailbox- Name's Greene.”
With that, the woman sped off the way she’d come. You watched as her and Lori slowly disappeared through the trees and bushes. If there had been room for another on that horse, you would’ve gone with them. It had been seconds and not knowing what was going on was already killing you.
The walker that had attacked Andrea began to groan, slowly sitting up. The woman hadn’t killed it.
Daryl shook his head, shooting the walker in the head with his bow. “Shut up.”
You took a deep breath, running your hands through your hair. “Let’s keep going, it’s going to start getting dark any minute now.”
“Shot?” Dale asked. “What do you mean shot?”
Your group had finally made it back to the highway, reconnecting with Dale and T-Dog. Glenn was filling Dale in on what happened.
“I don’t know, Dale. I wasn’t there. All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori.” Glenn shook his head.
“You let her?”
“The hell was I supposed to do?” Daryl scoffed. “Rick sent her. She knew Lori and Carl’s names.”
You nodded, shifting your feet. “She told us where to find them. They have a farm not too far from here.”
“We should head there then.” Dale spoke.
“Absolutely not. We can't just leave!” Carol argued. “I won’t do it.”
“Carol, the group is split.” Dale explained. “We’re scattered and weak.”
“What if she comes back and we’re not here?”
Andrea nodded. “If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful.”
Daryl’s eyes fell on you, your silence catching his attention. At this point, you were too tired to argue and you couldn’t see a situation where anyone won. You didn’t want to pull people away from looking for Sophia, but all you really wanted was to be with your family.
After a few moments, Daryl let out a harsh sigh. “I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Gives us a chance to rig a big sign and leave her some supplies. I’ll hold here tonight, stay with the RV.”
“If the RV is staying, I am too.” Dale spoke.
Carol smiled, her eyes swelling with tears. “Thank you. Thank you both.”
“I’m in.” Andrea spoke up.
You looked at Carol, your eyes softening. “I’m sorry, Carol. I want to help you find her, but I need to go find the farm. I need to make sure my family is okay.”
Carol nodded. “I understand.”
“I’ll stay here with the rest of you.” Glenn spoke up.
Dale shook his head. “You should go with Y/N. Take Carol’s Cherokee.”
“Why do I have to go too?” 
“Two of you is safer than one. You need to reconnect with our people and see what’s going on but most importantly, you need to get T-Dog there. His cut has gone from bad to worse.”
“What exactly does worse mean?” You asked.
“He has a very serious blood infection. Get him to the farm and see if they have any antibiotics.” Dale spoke. “If not, T-Dog will die, no joke.”
Daryl raised an eyebrow, turning to his motorcycle that was just a few steps away. “Why’d you wait until now to say anything?”
“What, do you have a secret pharmacy that we don’t know about?” You asked.
“Basically. I’ve got my brother’s stash.” Daryl began to rummage through the motorcycle, pulling out a bag. “Crystal, X— don’t need that. Got some kick ass painkillers.” Next, Daryl pulled out a prescription bottle. “Doxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. Its first class. Merle got the clap on occasion.”
Daryl tossed the bottle to Dale, who eyed it with excitement before rushing off to give some to T-Dog.
“Mind if I take that with us?” You asked.
Daryl shook his head. “It’s not like Merle needs it anymore.”
You frowned, thinking about all the loss your group had faced in just a few short days. So many people you’d come to know, even if you didn’t like them all. Most of all, family. Merle, Amy, Sophia and now Carl had been shot. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
T-Dog exited the RV with Dale’s help, who led him towards Carol’s Cherokee. Carol handed Glenn the keys, and he climbed in the driver’s seat.
“You remember what direction the farm is in? For tomorrow.” You asked.
Daryl nodded. “You still got your gun?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Be safe.”
You nodded, a partial smile creeping across your lips. “You too.”
“So, do we ring the doorbell?” Glenn asked as you slowly approached the farmhouse on foot. “I mean, it looks like people live here.”
“We’re past this kind of stuff, aren’t we?” T-Dog asked. “Having to be considerate.”
You shrugged in response when you heard a familiar voice.
“Did you close the gate up the road when you drove in?” Sitting on the porch in the dark was the woman you’d met earlier. 
“Uh, Hi.” Glenn choked. “Yeah, we closed it. Did the latch and everything.”
The woman nodded, leaning forward in her seat. “I never introduced myself. I’m Maggie.”
“Nice to see you again.” Glenn smiled. “We came to help. Is there anything we can do?”
Maggie’s eyes drifted to T-Dog’s arm, her smiling quickly fading.
“It’s not a bite. I cut myself pretty bad though.” T-Dog spoke.
“We’ll get it looked at and I’ll tell them you’re here.” Maggie responded, standing up.
“We have some painkillers and antibiotics. I already gave him some.” Glenn spoke. “In case Carl needs some.”
“How is Carl?” You asked. “Is he-”
“He’s alive.” Maggie assured you. “It's touch and go, but he’s hanging in.”
You smiled, nodding to yourself.
“Come on inside, I’ll get you guys something to eat.”
Maggie led you into the house and it didn’t take long for you to spot Rick and Lori. Maggie headed into the kitchen while you approached your brother.
“I’m so sorry.” You blurted out.
Rick shook his head, pulling you into a hug. “It’s okay. It's going to be okay.”
“We’re here, okay?” Glenn spoke.
T-Dog nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.” Lori tried her best to muster a smile.
You pulled away from your brother and immediately pulled Lori into a hug. It took a few seconds for it to register for her, but Lori hugged you back just as tight.
Glenn and T-Dog headed to the kitchen while Rick and Lori led you into another room. Carl laid on the bed, motionless. The sight of blood on the sheets caught you off guard. You never could’ve imagined seeing Carl in such a position.
“If they don’t get back soon, we’re gonna have a decision to make.” An older man spoke.
“Who?”
“Shane and their man, Otis.” Lori explained. “They left to get a respirator.”
“What decision would that be?” Rick asked.
The man hesitated for a second. “Whether to operate on your boy without it.”
“You said that wouldn’t work.”
“I know.” The man nodded. “It’s extremely unlikely, but we can’t wait much longer.”
“Where did they go?” You asked. “I can go there, help them if they’re trapped.”
“We don’t need more people getting separated.” Rick responded. “Shane will be back, I know he will.”
You sat down next to Carl, grabbing his hand in yours as a tear fell down your cheek. His life was in Shane’s hands, and you weren’t sure how to feel about that after everything.
You’d just finished your sandwich when panicked screams began coming from the other room. You jumped from your seat, racing in to find Carl having a seizure.
“What’s happening?” Lori asked.
“It’s a seizure.” You responded as Rick reached out to hold him. “Stop! If you hold him down, you could hurt him.”
“We can’t stop it?”
The older man, who you had learned is named Hershel, shook his head. “He has to just go through it. His brain isn’t getting enough blood. His pressure is bottoming out. He needs another transfusion.”
Rick nodded. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“If I take any more out of you your body could shut down. You could go into a coma or cardiac arrest.” 
“What about me?” You asked. “We have the same blood type. I’ll do it.”
Hershel looked at Rick, who quickly nodded. You held out your arm and Hershel started the process. In no time, you were watching as blood flowed out of your arm and into the tube connecting to Carl.
“Thank you.” Rick spoke, smiling slightly.
You smiled back at him, nodding. “It’s what we do.”
“Y/N was a nurse, before the world fell.” Rick looked at Hershel.
“Do you think you can assist when the time comes?” Hershel asked. “It’ll be good to have someone else here who knows a thing or two.”
“Of course,” You responded. “Anything I can do to help.”
“I’ll get you some orange juice, keep your sugar up.” Hershel smiled, exiting the room.
“How much longer do you think we can wait for Shane?” Lori asked, her voice in a whisper.
You shook your head. “I don’t know, maybe another hour?” 
Lori placed her head in her hands. “This can’t be happening again.”
Rick looked at his wife, then at you. You could still remember sitting in the waiting room with Lori, waiting to hear news about Rick. You couldn’t believe that was just over a month ago.
The room remained silent, allowing you to get a few moments of sleep at a time. You kept waking up each time you heard any movement.
Hershel entered the room again, looking over Carl. “He’s still losing blood faster than we can replace it. With the swelling in the abdomen we can’t wait any longer or he’s just going to slip away. I need to know right now if you want me to do this, because I think your boy is out of time. You need to make a choice.”
“A choice?” Lori asked.
“A choice.” Rick responded, his eyes fixed on his wife. “You have to tell me what it is. You have to.”
Lori thought for a moment. “We do it.”
Hershel sprung into action, giving orders to anyone in the room. Carl was lifted onto a table and you stuck close by, still giving him your blood. Patricia, one of the farm hands and Otis’ wife, held Carl’s IV bag.
“You two might want to leave the room.” Hershel spoke, looking between Rick and Lori.
As the words left his mouth, the sound of a car approaching filled the room. You could see the headlights shining through the windows, bouncing off the wall behind you.
“Oh God.” Rick gasped.
Hershel looked at you and Patricia. “You two stay with him, I’ll be right back.”
Shane had arrived just in time, allowing Hershel to perform the surgery with the respirator. By the time the surgery was over, Carl’s condition had stabilized. You’d learned that Otis had died out there, Rick and Hershel breaking the news to Patricia after the surgery was over.
Carl no longer needed a transfusion, so you found yourself outside on the porch just staring up at the stars. You’d never felt so exhausted in your life, both mentally and physically. 
In that moment everything you’d been through in the last month finally began to sink in. Once the tears began to fall, they wouldn’t stop. You could barely catch your breath, clutching your chest with your hand. Sitting there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the wrong choice leaving the CDC that day.
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AN: Here we are with the next chapter! I hope you enjoyed this more family centric chapter and the bits of Reader x Daryl. If you did, please remember to like and reblog! Thank you <3
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cherryblossom-chopper · 8 months
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ღ Cooking Burn ღ
Comforting your cooking burn with Ace, Sanji, and Shanks
————— ୨୧ —————
Ace’s heart shot into his throat at the sound of your distant shriek. He takes the steps to the top deck three at a time. He skids around the corner till he makes it to the kitchen. He burst through the door, to find you cradling your hand to your chest. “You okay?” You ask, head shooting up at Ace’s sudden appearance. “I should be asking you that,” Ace huffs, taking two long strides to get to you, “I heard you yelling.” You sigh, smiling sheepishly, turning to the sink, turning on the cold water. “I just burnt my hand. It hurts like a motherfucker, but I’m fine.” Ace physically slumps for a moment. “Good gods, babe,” he clutches his chest, “You damn near gave me a heart attack.” He slips his arms around your midsection, resting his head on top of yours. “Sorry,” you say, focusing on the discomfort in your hand. “Never scare me like that again,” Ace mutters, kissing the top of your head.
・‥…━━━☆
“Shit!” You cry, jerking your hands away from the hot pan. In a flash, Sanji’s tender hands snatch your wrist, examining the skin on your palm. “Oh, darling,” Sanji frets, dragging you to the sink, “Please be more careful.” You can’t stop yourself from sighing as the cool water runs over your hand. Before you can thank him, Sanji is quick to take your other hand and examine it for any possible injuries. He quickly peppers your good hand in kisses. “Mon Cher,” Sanji coos, quickly moving to kissing up your neck, then along your jawline, and up to your ear. Sanji smiles when you shiver, he nips at your earlobe before murmuring, “I’m banning you from my kitchen.”
・‥…━━━☆
Shanks hands you an ice pack with a sigh. “You gotta pay attention,” he hums, settling himself in the chair beside you. “I was trying, but I can’t when you're screwing around,” you mutter, glaring at him. Shanks flashes you a smile, “What? Me? I’m never a distraction.” You force a frown, as Shanks makes you want to grin. “This is still your fault,” you reply, clicking your tongue. “Aw c’mon babe,” Shanks scoots closer to you, “I said I was sorry, and you’re not seriously hurt. The burn will heal up just fine.” He makes kissy noises at you, begging for your kiss. “Fuck off,” you huff, smiling. You give him a brief kiss, before turning away. Shanks' laugh bounces around the room, and he rests his chin on his hand. “Stay grumpy at me all you want,” he grins, “It’s cute.”
————— ୨୧ —————
Want to keep up with your favorite characters? Join my tag list to be notified as soon as I post something new!
🏷: @aykxz98 @bolinhodadestruicao @chimooky @cipher-p0 @cjm-cookiethief @kristaline2dmensimp @lavenderkaye106 @userwithlotsoftime @victoryxela @cringejesterposting @3v37773 @undercoverweebs-blog @vemuabhi @firefistussy @buggy.d.clown @ibby-miyoshi-nerd @quatribobo @sabospet
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lovemikage · 1 year
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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐠. 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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a/n — i am…rusty so forgive me that this is so short! but i wanted to get smth out for my shawties and bc my gil brainrot is sooooo bad .. anyway enjoy! pink lady!reader, reader is latina, fem!reader <3 for @cyansadness sorry this took like eight million years </3
summary — a look into your relationship with your favorite boy, gil rizzo.
wc — 620
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“hey hey hey, did’ya really think i’d let you get out without me doin’ it for you? c’mon, get back in.”
your boyfriend’s eyebrows are knit together tightly in a way you could think of as disappointed if it wasn’t for the little smirk playing at his lips.
you give him a long look, one eyebrow raised because seriously? he cannot be serious right now.
but he is, and you both stare at each other for a moment before you let out a dramatic groan and clamber back into the driver’s side of your car.
“y’know, rizzo —“ you speak as you duck back in, closing the door and clasping your hands politely in your lap, “if you had just picked me up then we wouldn’t even be havin’ this problem—“
“—that’s not my fault!” gil’s response comes out faster than you can even finish your sentence, his tone laced with offense, “i had to drop betty off today! and she was very upset she couldn’t see you, by the way, talked my ear off the entire drive about how it wasn’t fair that she ‘had to be stuck with her idiot brother and not his cool girlfriend’. personally i think it’s gotta be that time of the month or somethin’ because—“
gil cuts himself off the second he sees the glare you give him, immediately holding his hands up, “sorry, sorry! i’ll stop talking, i should definitely stop talking.”
“proud of you, you never realize it that quickly.” you grin, watching him open your car door and reaching your hand out in a very practiced gesture. the feel of his larger hand holding yours is familiar, comforting, and you can’t help but feel your face heat up at the touch. quickly you deflect, “and make sure to tell betty i’ll take her out for a manicure soon. no icky boys invited.”
gil holds his heart as if he’s been shot and the giggle it pulls from you is completely unintentional.
how annoying. you’ve been with gil for how long and he still makes you feel like a little girl writing “mrs. richie valdovinos <3” in your diary (if anyone reminds gil of this he might kill them).
gil closes the door behind you and you smile up at him, already turning so he can help you put your favorite article of clothing on — your pretty pink jacket. nancy had even added a sweet heart next to your name, as per your request (though she had to let you know she hated it).
“thank you, amor.” you grin, going onto your tip toes so you can press a soft kiss to his lips. his hands come to rest on your waist and when you pull back the bright blush on his cheeks is evident in spite of his efforts to hide it. you like him like this, vulnerable and sweet and hopelessly lovesick.
the second your lips touch again you pause, leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him, “baby, what time is it?”
“two thirty, pretty girl, why?”
“god dammit, i’ve got class — walk me there?”
gil shoots you a grin that reminds you of the day you two met and you fell in love, nodding and quickly spinning you so you two can start walking.
his hand finds its way to what seems like its forever home, the back pocket of your blue jeans, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest; it’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, but to you that’s not a bad thing.
it just means that gil rizzo will always have the annoyingly endearing ability to make you remember exactly why you fell in love in the first place.
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tagging some of my rotpl babes (i’m sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged but I figured you’d like it </3): @sirenlulls @angeltails @fabiolajyx
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prettyiwa · 10 months
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Relationship: Miyuki Kazuya x F!Reader Rating: SFW Content Tags: MLB!Miyuki Kazuya, Interpreter!Reader, Coworkers to Friends to ???, Pining, Previous alcohol consumption, Mild flirting, First kiss, Almost confessions, Slight panic, guilt, & frustration, Adult Kazuya is still awkward, Reader is a little older than Kazuya, Reader takes her job very seriously, Mixed signals at the end. Summary: When Kazuya asked his team with the NPB to be posted, he didn't think he'd end up meeting you again. When time came to choose an interpreter, he chose you without hesitation. Neither of you truly anticipated that feelings would bloom, even with the near constant proximity. Your birthday rolls around and he isn't thinking about his silly little crush until he can't stop thinking about it. Word Count: 4,590
A/N: I wanted to include the entire story for his birthday but NaNoWriMo came along and took up my attention. So I'm sharing an excerpt instead!
And thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta @tyga-lily. I'd still be floundering if not for you ♡
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As soon as he steps out into the night, Kazuya’s met with a wall of humid air, thick and warm thanks to the lingering heat from the day. His clothes are already starting to stick to him as he steps further from the house and it won’t be much longer until he starts to feel beads of sweat building at the nape of his neck. When he turns to find you, his movements feel a little loose and everything seems hazy at the edges and he realizes he’s not as sober as he thought he was.
Still, he’s gotta be soberer than you, what, with the drinking games you were dragged into by your college best friend. He’s honestly lost count of how many shots he took from you throughout the night (and however many more he ended up tossing into the plant him when they became too much).
The music inside dies down a bit—probably the work of your brother, the acting adult of the evening—and he tries to listen for you, only to come up empty. No sounds of your footsteps, neither in the street nor along the staircase leading to the beach, leaving him alone with the increasingly loud beating of his heart.
It’s only been a couple of minutes. How far could you have gone? It’s not like you could’ve made it down to the shore in that time. That doesn’t stop his mind from conjuring scenarios in which you fall into the water, unable to get back up. Moving forward, he ends up tripping over that same rock he’s tripped over three times today, feeling that familiar pain shoot from his toe up his leg.
“Dammit!”
“Miyuki?”
The sound of your voice floods him with relief and he turns his head in your direction. The motion makes him dizzy for half a second. “There you are.”
You pop around the corner, confusion almost as palpable as the humidity before it makes way for your wide grin. “Are you okay? Did the rock attack you again?”
He feels a flash of minor annoyance, but he can’t ignore the way your smile pulls at his own lips. “Shut it.”
“It’s been picking on you all day.” You chuckle, coming closer, letting him see the way you bite your tongue and hold it between your teeth to keep yourself from saying much more. “Aha, sorry. I don’t get to tease you like this often.”
“Yeah, sure.” He closes the distance, grip tightening around the jacket he brought for you in case it got cool. “What are you doing around here? I thought you came outside to get some fresh air.”
“I did, but then I remembered that I left you with them and that didn’t seem like a good idea.” You both glance toward the door, lips quirking at the raucous laughter that comes from inside, almost as if to prove your point. “At the very least, you should have someone to…”
You suck air through your teeth, trying to find the words, so he tries supplying them for you.
“Should I have someone to protect me from them?” He likes the sound of your laugh, the way it bounces between you two before settling on his skin.
“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘you should at least have someone to interpret what they’re saying,’ but sure. Protect works too.” Even when drunk, you’re thinking of him and how to include him. Even when you’re drunk, you’re thinking about working.
“You don’t need to do that. It’s your birthday celebration. You should have fun.”
“I am having fun. You’re lots of fun.”
How do you do that so easily? Heat spreads across his cheeks, settling on the tips of his ears and the back of his neck and his mouth goes dry before he runs his fingers through his hair, thinking of what to say.
“You know, you switch to English a lot when you’re drunk.”
Yep. Awesome. Awesome response, Kazuya.
He watches as the realization hits you—the way you tilt your head to the left as you’re trying to remember, the slow opening of your mouth and raising of your brows before your hand covers your mouth in surprise. “No! What? Have I really?”
A laugh escapes him at your reaction and he feels a little bad when you bury your face in your hands. It’s not often he sees you this unguarded and animated. He’s still laughing when he starts pulling at your fingers, gently prying them away from your face as you eke out an apology. He won’t admit it to you, but he enjoys witnessing these tiny mistakes from you, little hints of proof that there’s more to you than he’s yet to learn.
You once told him you’re an open book, but he’s surprised by how deep the book actually is.
“Seriously. I hardly ever hear you speak so much English unless we’re doing interviews for the media.”
“Yes, almost like that’s entirely by design or something!” Your groan turns into a laugh before you turn away from him, leaving his hand to fall away from yours. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go take a swim until I hit land again.”
Three steps away and his hand is wrapping around your wrist, remembering why he came out here in the first place. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you smile, pulling your arm (and him) forward. “You’re not gonna try to stop me, are you?”
“With how much you’ve had to drink tonight? You definitely need a chaperone.” You wriggle your wrist free, though you slide your hand into his, filling the spaces between his fingers with yours.
“And you wanna be my chaperone? Miyuki. Listen. You’re an absolute baseball genius but I have seen you on the sand today. I’m much better suited to be your chaperone instead.”
“Oi! It was you who assumed I was any good at soccer in the first place.” Snickering beside him, you pull toward the stairs that lead to the sand, stumbling on the first step. His left arm comes out to stabilize you and the grip of his right tightens around your fingers and all it does is make you laugh more. “Who’s tripping over their own feet now, huh?”
Your fingers squeeze his and, when he glances over, you’re sporting a wide, carefree smile, one he’s only recently started seeing more of. Warmth blossoms from where you two touch, quickly spreading from his tingling fingers up his arm, gathering in the center of his chest. It’s impossible to be around you right now.
Looking out at the beach, he finds the minuscule moonlight barely bouncing off the waves in the distance, otherwise leaving everything in the dark. Despite how clear the skies were during the day, clouds have since taken hold in the sky, making everything feel closer than it is. Despite the darkness ahead that threatens to consume everything, it’s like you provide your own source of light, just for the two of you.
All giggles and energy beside him, nearly bounding from the last step once you reach it, only stopping because you’re tethered to him. His grip on your hand loosens and he refuses to acknowledge the fuzzy feeling in his chest when you ignore his offer to let you go, keeping your hand in his. Still, you pull at him, urging him forward at your pace on the uneven terrain.
“You’re such a child,” he says.
“I’m a child? I’m older than you. What does that say about you?”
“That I’m a victim of circumstance.”
Stopping in your tracks, you pull your hand from his grasp, he thinks he said something wrong, but there’s a smile on your lips as you bend down. “You? A victim? You, Miyuki Kazuya, are a great many things, but ‘victim’ isn’t one of them.”
It takes a moment too long before he registers that you’re fiddling with the fastening of your shoes.
“Oi, oi. Don’t take those off.” Looking up at him, you stick out your tongue, not ceasing your efforts to free yourself from your shoes. “You’re gonna complain about your feet being sandy when we reach those steps again.”
“Oh, boo. Let me have some fun.”
He catches himself halfway through running his fingers through his hair, smoothing the rest of it over to stop the nervous tic. “Are you gonna blame me when your feet hurt later?”
You’re silent for a bit, biting your tongue as you think before coming to a decision. “I’ll try not to.” It’s only a second or two more before you’ve successfully freed yourself from your shoes. Looking up at him, you give him a smile that means nothing good, though you wait before stepping away from your shoes. “Miyuki? You’ll let me have fun tonight, right? I hardly ever get to do stuff like this.”
Kazuya’s not sure what it is, but something about the way you ask has his heart kicking up a gear. “Agh, fine.” A false concession, but it keeps a smile on your face. “Just for tonight.”
“Good. I’ll hold my complaints till tomorrow, then!”
And you’re off, jumping up and away from your shoes with little regard for the sand you’ve inadvertently kicked everywhere. The skirt of your dress swishes as you move, catching his eye as it does. He looks away when you carelessly bend over, grabbing your shoes before starting to skip toward the shore.
“Hey! That’s not the agreement.”
“It is now,” you call, the sound of the ocean drowning out your laugh. Only once you’ve reached where the sand grows wet do you pause, looking his way. There’s still a wide smile plastered across your face and his chest grows tight as you step closer to the water.
He picks up his pace, anxiety creeping up on him at the thought of you nearing this massive, black body of water, only spiking when he hears your sharp shriek as the cold water laps at your toes. Despite the chill, you step deeper still until your feet are consistently covered.
Kicking off his shoes, he can’t keep his eyes off of you—the way your dress barely moves with the briefest breeze and the way you subtly shift your weight from one foot to the next as you try to grow accustomed to the cold that contrasts with what little warmth remains. The clouds pass, revealing more of you to him and he’s a little surprised at how much energy you still seem to have.
The sand is cool against his feet, meaning the water is that much colder, but he doesn’t particularly care about that right now. The closer he steps toward you, the less worry he feels for your safety and the more anxiety he feels for something entirely different. You shiver and he remembers the jacket in his hand, taking a moment to place it on your shoulders.
You start, almost as if you had forgotten him, but your smile suggests otherwise. He takes his place beside you, wondering how the hell you’re staying so quiet when the water is fucking freezing.
There’s a light out on the horizon, something that goes in and out with the waves, something to stare at when he becomes too aware of your presence next to him. Clouds pass over the moon again, making everything ahead go pitch black, leaving him with naught but the beating of his heart, the light in the distance, and the burning of his fingertips.
“I like it out here, you know?” Your voice is low enough that it’s almost lost among the lapping of the sea on the shore. The clouds continue to move and the moonlight comes back, letting him look at you while you continue to look ahead.
He’s struck by the memory of you two when you two first properly met. The rain that poured, driving everyone inside while you remained outside, under the cover provided by the building. The way you watched him with a curious look on your face as he tried to make himself as presentable as possible for the start of contract negotiations. The quiet ‘good morning’ and the comment about the weather just before he remembered where he knew you from.
“You like the rain, too.”
As you turn to look at him, he wonders whether you remember it, too. Despite you working with Wynd Academy for the Tokyo Senbatsu reunion, despite you again working with Tetsu during his negotiations, despite all of the little almosts that could have swayed him… He wonders whether you remember the first words you two actually exchanged with one another. The smile that shapes your lips is softer, one that, again, reminds him of when you two stood out in the rain together.
“Yeah, I do.”
The ocean captures your attention again and he enjoys the silence that falls.
“Hey, Miyuki?”
“Hn?”
“What made you choose me?”
“What?”
“When we came back from Japan. What made you stick with me as your interpreter?”
There’s a draw, an invisible pull that makes him want to look at you. When he does, you’re already watching him, head tilted, unsure of what you’re asking. Or perhaps unsure of the answer he’ll give?
“You could have chosen anyone else from the firm, but you stuck with me. I saw you looking through the portfolios.”
“Why are you asking? It’s in the past, isn’t it?”
Your gaze shifts away from him, but he has a feeling you’re not watching the waves. “I dunno. It’s something I’ve always wondered about and… never mind. It’s fine.”
He hates when you do that. “And?”
The breeze mixes with the waves as it passes, almost taking your reluctant sigh with it. “I thought I pissed you off with how demanding I was at first. I remember you looked so annoyed and I wanted to crawl into a hole.”
He snickers, trying to apply what you’ve just told him to the woman he met in Japan two years before. From the start, you needed him to be open and to communicate in a way that he couldn’t even muster in his previous relationship. More than once you reminded him of Mei and Kuramochi with how easily you caught onto his lies, even those by omission. Imagining you intimidated by him is laughable.
“Is that funny?”
“Yeah, a little.” He laughs properly when you roll your eyes and frown. “You hardly knew me but you had no problem putting me in my place. It’s funny to think that you wanted to crawl into a hole because of it.”
“Sure, sure. So? If my first impression didn’t ruin you, what made you want to keep me around?”
“That wasn’t my first impression of you.”
“Wasn’t it?” There’s this nervous edge to your voice, accompanied by the tell-tale playing with your nails.
“Did you forget? You were one of the interpreters for the Tokyo Senbatsu. You worked with the kids more, but I remember seeing you around.” You certainly got along with Mei back then. “And then you were who the Giants sent to interpret for Tetsu during his negotiations.”
“Yeah, but you weren’t there for that.”
“I was there at the airport, and Tetsu told us that he wanted to hire you then, too. Why didn’t you take him up?”
Blowing air, you take to chewing the inside of your cheek and turning your face away from him.
“It wasn’t the right timing. I wasn’t going to be able to interpret for him and finish my program if he was going to San Francisco.”
“So if he went to the Dodgers like I did, would you have accepted?”
“No.” You still don’t face him, but your admission sparks a wave of fluttering in him, only heightened by the cold water at his feet.
“What made you choose me, then?”
At this, you turn, challenging him with a smirk. “You didn’t answer my question.”
His smile grows, knowing full well that you’re avoiding answering his question. “You made it very easy for me to trust you.”
Whatever you thought you were going to hear, it’s clear that wasn’t it. That challenge in your eyes fades, your smile losing its edge as it’s colored by disbelief.
“Why do you ask?”
He watches as you take that disbelief and pocket it away with something more tender, something you’re not ready to be seen just yet. When you meet his eyes again, it’s with the ghost of a smile playing at your lips. “I’ve always been curious.”
“Is that all?”
You pause, eyes flickering across his face before settling on his again. “Yep.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“At least you know when I’m not being honest,” you try, starting to step away from him with a borderline mischievous grin. “Very hard for me to lie to you.”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering him, you turn forward, allowing a silence to build between you both until he can feel the nervous energy that buzzes around you. Unable to stand it, he closes that distance again, nudging your shoulder as he settles. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Yeah, your turn. You turned down Tetsu, so what made you say yes to me?” Was it because the Dodgers are closer or because they’re the team you and your dad have followed or was it timing or…?
“I don’t know. Maybe because you would be close and the timing was right or—”
“You already admitted that proximity wouldn’t have made you say yes to Tetsu. Was it because it was me?”
“Are you kidding? If I knew it was you, I probably would’ve quit working with the league and gotten a position with the university.” Your laugh is a little self-depreciating and he doesn’t know why. “All I know is that we got the call that the Dodgers needed a Japanese interpreter and I jumped at the opportunity because it was something else to put on my portfolio. I didn’t learn they were courting you until I was already on the plane.”
“You seemed just fine when you greeted me that morning.”
“Aha, yeah. I was so nervous, it kinda just slipped out.”
“Were you really that nervous? I honestly never would have guessed.”
“Good to know. I never expected—” Catching yourself, you look at him, clearly hoping he didn’t hear that. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, you can’t just start that and then pretend like you didn’t say anything.”
“I can and I will.”
“No, for real, you can’t pretend like I didn’t hear that. Finish your thought.”
He watches as you try to edge yourself away, but he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist to keep you from getting more than two feet away.
“Ooh, no you don’t.”
Squirming in his hold does nothing but make him pull you closer, trapping you against his chest. When he tries to get you to look at him, you hide your face in your palms again, failing this time because you’re still holding your shoes. The more you squirm, the closer he pulls you to him until you’re effectively trapped back to chest, laughing to yourself as he brings his lips level to your ear.
“What didn’t you expect?”
You shiver and he hears a muffled, “You aren’t making this any easier.”
“Why would I do that when you’re trying to hide something from me?”
“I’m not trying to hide anything.”
“Oh, yeah? Then you can tell me, right?”
“Kazuya, please—”
“Kazuya?” You freeze in his arms and his heart stutters in his chest—full-on stalling out, struggling to make it to the next gear, demanding more power to keep going. He hears the apology tumble out of your mouth in a rush, so he tells you, “I like it when you call me that.”
You stiffen for a moment before leaning into him, letting his words sink in, still feeling his warm breath against the exposed skin of your neck. “You— you are very good at making me do stupid things.”
“You mean to say that I bring out an entirely different level of stupid?”
“Shut up.” You push against his arms with no real effort to get away, but he doesn’t want to cross a boundary, so he loosens his grip. Despite the room to move, you lean into him more, staying where you are.
Is this a stupid thing?
“So? What’s this thing you never expected?”
Shuffling where you stand, he expects you to step away. Opening his arms fully, you surprise him, turning around and pressing your forehead against him.
“I never expected your stupid sense of humor or your stupid laugh or your stupid pretty face or that you would be the exact combination of stupid that would make me stupid.” Your voice is soft, lost somewhere between the night and the fabric of his shirt, but he hears you nonetheless.
“I’d be offended right now if you didn’t just say you find me pretty.” He’d be offended right now if you didn’t just suggest what he thinks you’re suggesting.
“You are pretty. It makes me mad.”
“Me being pretty makes you mad?”
“Very mad.” You move to look at him and he’s expecting a pout, not the serious look in your eyes. Your brows furrow and—yup, there it is—your lips turn into a pout as you continue staring before your gaze shifts to his lips. He thinks it’s just gonna be a moment, just a glance, but it’s not.
Shit.
Your lips part, just a little bit, just enough that he’s slowly inching forward and so are you. Just enough so he feels the shaky little exhale before you close the distance, pressing your lips to his.
You’re—soft. Really soft. Soft in the way you’re pressing against him. Soft in the way you feel when his arms close around you, holding you to him. Soft in the way you move your arms so they’re draped over his shoulders, so your shoes tap against his back, so your fingers brush against the hairs at the nape of his neck. Soft in the way your lips move against his, making him dizzy, making him feel, as you so eloquently put it, stupid.
Then there’s that sound you make, something else that’s soft, something between a whimper and a whine before you flick your tongue against his bottom lip.
Shit.
Another sound when he tries to hold you closer, when his palms spread out across your back, when all he can think and feel and breathe is you. Your fingers tangle in his hair before pulling, giving you a whine in turn and he feels you smile before pulling away for air.
Resting his forehead against yours, his senses slowly come back to him, though they’re still primarily focused on you. The feel of the bunching of the fabric of your dress beneath his fingertips, the racing of his heart in his chest, the cool of the water against his feet. The smell of the salty ocean air and that odd combination of sunscreen and your body wash. The lingering taste of you against his lips, and the little craving to taste more. The sounds of the waves, seemingly in the distance when compared to the beating of his heart and your shaky breathing. The sight of you, of your tongue smoothing over your bottom lip before they close, of your eyelashes touching your cheeks in the lighting provided by the waxing moon, of the slow opening of your eyes and the emotions that follow.
He’s never been good at reading people, especially not their emotional state, and he can’t trust himself to get it right at this moment. He wants there to be hope. He wants there to be acceptance. He wants to see the reciprocated feeling of “fucking finally” because that’s what he’s feeling. He wants it so bad that he can’t trust himself to read you right now.
But he does know he’s not imagining it the moment it hits you.
You release his hair before your hand slides back down his chest, coming to rest on your lips.
That surprise. That fear. That—
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry! I’m your interpreter! I shouldn’t—shit. That was so stupid. Please forgive me.”
All the warmth that built up in his chest leaves with the slow sinking of his heart. Of course. Everything comes back to your job.
“I’m not here as your client.”
Oof, that came off a lot harsher than he meant it to be. He hopes that your little flinch is because of the sudden breeze and not because of him. “You’re not my interpreter right now. You’re my friend.”
But that guilt written all over your face doesn’t go away. “I’m—”
“It’s your birthday, right? Happy birthday.”
You turn your gaze down before you turn your head away slightly. His grip around you loosens and this time you take the smallest step back. Dammit.
“Thank you. I—” You won’t even look at him. “Please forgive me.”
He sighs through his nose and he can feel the crease between his eyebrows as it forms. Turning back toward the shore, he slips his hand in yours.
“There’s nothing to forgive.” It definitely comes out as a bite, though (again) he doesn’t mean it as such. That doesn’t deter you from squeezing his fingers.
You trail behind him for only a minute more before quickening your pace and taking your space beside him. As you grow closer to the stairs heading back to the street, you turn, looking toward the solitary tables near the public bathroom.
“You don’t—”
“Let’s sit,” he interrupts, making it known he’s still with you, even if a large part of you seems intent on trying to move past something he’s wanted for the last year and a half now.
When you look at him, it’s with relief, with that stress and second-guessing slowly melting away. “Thank you.”
Maybe he should take the seat opposite you instead of right beside you, but he’s going to be selfish for as long as you’ll let him.
“I’m not ready to go back inside just yet.” You wait for a response and Kazuya decides it’s better if he doesn’t. “Do you mind… you don’t have to, but I’d like to sit out here for a while longer.”
Instead of offering a verbal response, he relaxes, brushing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Thank you. I think… I think I might still be a little buzzed.”
Yeah, you really can’t lie to him.
“I don’t want to go in there when she’s still awake. I might say something stupid.”
That’s more like it, though he wonders if that “something stupid” will end with your friend giving you a lecture or giving one to him. Lecture or not, he’d prefer to keep your attention for himself.
You chatter on for another ten or so minutes, mostly compelled by your wish to move on from what happened, but eventually, you give in to the silence. It’s another couple of minutes before you rest your head on his shoulder. The two of you sit in silence with the soft promise to leave whenever you’re ready.
The sun slowly rises and he still finds himself on the beach with his hand still interlinked with yours, still hoping that this sea salt flavored kiss won't be the only one you two share.
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Daiya no Ace Masterlist
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phantomspiderr · 2 years
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The Commander & The Star
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Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader
Word count: 2.2k+
Summary: Maybe you realised you love your best friend when it’s too late
Warnings/Tags: mentions of death, injury, explosions, fire, guilt, also a couple swears in there, probably the most angst I’ve ever written(I promise there’s a happy ending), cocky Poe Dameron, overuse of the words TIE Fighter and X-Wing(sorry), in case it isn’t obvious I know nothing about flying either and there’s of course some smooching
a/n: yeah sorry this came out of nowhere and is probably a bit of a mess and ngl I don’t fully understand Star Wars but I do love Poe Dameron so… hope you enjoy!
also I’m pretty sure there’s no mentions of gender or appearance or anything like that but as always if I’ve got that wrong and there is let me know! Appreciate you all, have a wonderful day🤍
(not my gif)
・☆: *.☽ .* :☆
nonononono…
You’re stumbling over rubble, uncaringly inhaling thick smoke as your numb legs carry you across the rugged terrain. Your heart thrashes around in your rib cage as your eyes sting with tears. No one ever prepares you for this when you’re learning to fly, not even your worrying thoughts every time either of you got in an X-Wing could prepare you for this.
Just moments ago you’d watched your best friend get shot out of the sky. The best pilot in the Resistance, hell the best pilot in the galaxy had been shot down in front of your very eyes.
It was only supposed to be a recon mission on some desolate planet no one had heard of for many, many years. But of course, in all of the galaxy, the First Order had a spontaneous patrol in the exact area just by the planet you were looking for. Poe was quick to spot them but before the two of you could make a quick getaway the four TIE fighters were barrelling in your direction.
“Shit! We gotta take them down. You take the two on the left and I’ll go right,” Poe’s crackly voice coming through your speaker somehow sounds calm in the middle of all this. It doesn’t matter how many times you fly your X-Wing or fight off the enemy there’s always a twinge of doubt about your ability in the back of your mind every time. But it all washes away every single time Poe utters the words, “Hey, you’re okay. We’ve got this.”
Your X-Wings are close enough that you can look to your right and see him in his cockpit. When he looks over at you it feels like time stands still for just a second, then you share a nod before both flying off in different directions. Your ships are still connected by your communicators so you can hear all the whooping and taunting Poe does as he flies. No matter how distracting he is, the sound of his voice is always something that will calm you. Even as you manoeuvre around the two TIE Fighters that are close on your tail.
“Poe! I can’t shake these guys,” you’re pulling up trying to roll over the top of the TIE Fighters to get an advantage behind them. You’re too out in the open and you’re finding it difficult to get around them. You’d never want to admit that the First Order is good at anything but maker these pilots are brilliant.
“We need to go down,” you can hear him pushing buttons, obviously trying to figure out a plan on the spot, “ah! There’s some mountains below. We’re better down there, I’ve pinpointed it on your map okay?”
“Shit!” You jump when you suddenly see one of the Tie Fighters in front of you explode, pulling a hard left to avoid going headfirst into it.
“You’re welcome!” You can picture the smug look on Poe’s face, always looking for a way to show off. Always a little reckless too. The man’s still chasing off his own two enemies he didn’t need to pick yours off for you too.
“A little warning next time would be great,” you push a few buttons, pulling up your map on the little screen in front of you. The one TIE now behind you again, chasing you down and shooting off blasters in every direction. You try to pick up speed as you quickly descend into the planet’s atmosphere, your ship beeping and flashing red in warning.
“Careful, Star.” The callsign he’d chosen for you rolling off his tongue with ease still makes your heart do a little flip. Your mind instantaneously shifts focus onto Poe’s X-Wing flying ahead as a TIE Fighter tries to come at him from the side. You’re quick to turn toward it, expertly flipping switches and locking your launcher onto the enemy ship. You can’t help but tease Poe just a little, “Careful, Commander.” The TIE explodes just as you speak and you smugly pull away in a different direction still acutely aware of the ship following you.
“A little warning?” He mocks your previous words and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Your head switches focus back to the task at hand, you’re trying to find an opportunity to lose the guy behind you or make him crash whichever comes first. Your eyes scan the new terrain, the mountains are just ahead but it’s too open and the gap between you and the enemy is closing.
“Change of plan!” You pull up and left suddenly yanking your ship in the direction of some towering trees, “gonna try lose them in the forest.”
“Star.” Poe’s voice warns, he always hates when you split off but you’re the only one he ever trusts to make decisions on the fly. You choose to just ignore the warning until he repeats it just as you spot the TIE Fighter pull away from your rear and go towards Poe. Shit.
“Poe!” You pull back hard, your X-Wing just floating on the spot for a second before it twists and you’re trying to speed toward the other ships.
“Yeah, I see them! Can you get behind them and I’ll lead them-“ A shot clips one of Poe’s wings and you can hear the beeping coming from his control pad.
“Poe?!” You’re immediately concerned, thinking the worst as you catch up.
“I’m good, just a little damage!” If you’d been anyone else you’d have missed the tinge of worry in his voice but you’re you and you’ve been his best friend since day one. His worry bleeds into your brain and your focus falters for just a second you miss a shot on one of your enemies. It comes back quickly as you start to see Poe’s ship slowing down significantly, giving the TIEs an advantage. One tries to take his side again just like the one before while the other continues to chase him from behind. You’re just out of range to lock your blasters on the ship and you’re pushing your X-Wing to its limits now just needing to get a little closer.
“comeoncomeoncomeon!” You’re nervously mumbling, your whole body tense, “YES!” Your control pad shows it’s locked on the target and you fire rapidly before it can change. Before you can even celebrate taking down another First Order pilot you see the red beams shoot out from the TIE Fighter you’d just been pursuing right before it explodes. You watch in horror as it completely takes out Poe’s other wing and he starts spinning toward the ground. He clips the last remaining TIE Fighter on his way down and sends it spinning straight into a tree and explodes.
You screech out his name as you hear his ship beeping through your comms, you can just make out what you think is Poe hitting the control panel with his fist. He doesn’t say a word and you feel stuck in place like some kind of force is holding you there so you can watch your best friend plummet to his death into the forest below. As if someone flips a switch you’re steering down haphazardly, not being as careful as you normally are when landing your X-Wing. It’s barely on the ground before you’re tugging at your seat belts and pulling off your helmet. You forego deploying your ladder instead just ungracefully slipping down the side and landing on the ground with a thud that sends shooting pain up your legs.
There are bits of TIE Fighter smoking or on fire, there are even parts of Poe’s beloved X-Wing scattered on the ground. Your legs feel like lead as you climb up a mound covering where you’re sure Poe crash-landed. Your lungs burn as you inhale the thick smoke in the air and you’re scared. So scared. You reach the top and you almost fall straight back down, the sight before you making your legs weak. That beloved X-Wing he’d spent years working on, the thing that had tally marks scratched into the floor of how many people he’d lost so he always knew what he was fighting for. That godforsaken thing you’d both spent countless late nights fixing up, just in pieces in front of you. It’s hard to see it all, a part obviously exploded and was blowing thick dark smoke out into the air. Your eyes sting and you’re honestly not sure if it’s the smoke or the fact you think your best friend just died and you blame yourself for it already. There were so many things left unsaid, so many adventures you were supposed to go on together. You knew every time either of you flew that this could happen but some part of you thought that you were both invincible, that nothing would ever happen to you and now it has and you’re numb.
Your legs almost give out as you clumsily stumble down the mound. You can feel your body trembling as you search the wreckage for confirmation of your worst fear. You’re coughing now as you get closer finding heaps of metal you start pulling apart in hopes you’re wrong.
He won’t get to see the Residence win.
He won’t get to grow old and have the kids he said he wanted.
You won’t get to spend another day with your best friend.
You won’t get to tell him you love him.
Your thoughts race at light speed and your legs finally give out, you sink to your knees and sobs freely fall out of you.
“I-I hope those tears aren’t for me Star,” his voice is gruff, he’s coughing too and you almost think you’re hearing things until your head snaps around and you can see him limping toward you a few feet away.
“Poe? Poe!” You’re slipping on the ground as you clamber to your feet and then you’re sprinting toward him. Uncaring that you were just on the ground sobbing because you thought he was dead. He’s covered in ash and his flight suit is torn in places and singed in others. You just manage to make out the little cuts littering his handsome face that you know he’ll think make him look tough later. Then when you’re within touching distance your hands reach for his face and you don’t even realise you’re kissing him until you are. You’re kissing Poe Dameron and it feels like heaven. You’re holding onto him for dear life as if he might disappear but relief floods your brain, he’s really there, he’s alive. Then suddenly your logical brain kicks in and you abruptly pull away looking at him wide-eyed with disbelief. Your hands move away and back again before resting on his shoulders and your brain just acts like you didn’t just kiss your best friend but he hisses and recoils one shoulder away from your hand.
“Yeah I’m gonna need you to put that back in,” he jokes like you’re not now just staring at his dislocated shoulder. Your relief-addled brain had clearly missed that upon your quick inspection as you raced over. You’re trying to focus on inspecting him for any further injuries now instead of focusing on the way he tasted like those blue candies he buys in bulk because he eats so many. You don’t even look up at him when he calls your name, busying yourself with looking over a cut on his other arm and thinking if you have enough first aid supplies to treat all of this. Then he says your name a bit more sternly, his working arm swatting both yours away and he reaches up to hold your face. He tilts your head up so you’re looking directly at him now and you watch his smile grow, “how long have you been holding out on me?” You must look completely dumbfounded because he chuckles a little before it turns into a cough and then a groan of pain as he buckles over a little. You’re quick to support him, the trained medic in you taking over as you wrap his uninjured arm around your shoulders.
“Come on,” you pause for a second to collect your thoughts and find the right words to say, “we can talk about this later.” It comes out more like a question, hope seeping out of every word.
“Oh we’re not done with this,” he gives you that smug look he does when he gets a bit cocky and you can’t help the way your elbow just ever so slightly nudges his ribs, sending him into another coughing fit and wiping the cocky look off his face.
You laugh just a little as he scolds you, trying and failing to use his ‘in charge commander’ voice, “not funny! Gonna write you up for that.”
“I’d like to see you try,” still chuckling, you glance at his dislocated shoulder, the side with which he writes and you see it click in his brain when he realises.
“Oh ha ha, laugh at the injured man. I can type with my other hand y’know,” your body’s still riding high on the adrenaline but your heart is calm. Poe’s here with you, you’re both alive and maybe you’re in love with each other and you just never realised.
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alemonyoyo · 9 months
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No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 3
Please read it here! Or read below and leave a kudos or comment <3 <3 Thanks!
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Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!
Words: 3152
Tags: GN Reader, No use of YN, Slight Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding.
Summary: It's time to start your training for your duel! The Sheriff has splurged on a new gun for you, so you'd better impress him with those skills!
Let's hope you don't get too flustered and mess up the shot-
Chapter 3 - The Training: Undertale Yellow OST: 072 - Sunnyside Farm
You stirred in your sleep, tossing and turning. Groaning ever so often at the relentless pain in your head. Why’d that guy, Edward, have to drop you so freakin’ hard!
Eventually you’d had enough of pretending to be asleep, and woke up once again in a foreign bed. The sheets were red, and smelt of gunpowder. To your right, a sleeping bag was poised on the ground.
As you woke up and let the light of the day settle better into your dreary eyes, you could see that the room was covered in sleeping gear; Hammocks and pillows and couches. Even what looked to be a cat bed?
You slowly got out of the bed, being sure to rearrange the covers neatly once you were done.
In the corner of the room was a TV and beside it was a pile of VHS’s. You walked over, examining them. Despite being left on the floor of what was quite a dingy wooden house, there was seldom any dust on them. Looking at the labels, you recognised them all as classic Spaghetti Westerns; Man Hunt, Gunslinger’s Revenge, They Call Me Renegade, No Country for Old Men. They were all quite old films… How did they make their way down here?
You stood back up, looking over to the bed you had just emerged from. It was clear this was the Feisty Fives living quarters. And the bed you were sleeping in belonged to-
“Rise an’ shine partner!” North Star crashed through the door, leading in some of the light from outside with him. It’s like it followed him, stuck to his skin. Or maybe monsters of his kind could just *glow*. “You slept quite a bit. It’s nearly midday.” He flicked on the lights before walking over to you. “If you’re not up for training today, that’s alright.” He placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, “Being a cowboy as great as me is tough work of course. Gotta make sure you’re rested!” He laughed, his eyes squinting under his hat. He had a sweet laugh, an infectious one that caught you giggling along with him. No wonder he accumulated such a posse.
“Sorry I slept in. I don’t even remember getting here.” His hand still rested on your shoulder, grounding you. You felt a little spacey after such a night, and still a little wary of this stranger. Could you even be deemed strangers anymore? You had stayed the night in his own bed! “Where did you sleep last night?”
“Oh! Uh,” He sheepishly pointed to a pillow, laid on the floor next to the bed.
“You can’t be serious!” He held up his hands in faux defence, chuckling to himself,
“It’s quite alright, darlin’. You needed a good rest, and my bed’s the best of ‘em.” You scrunch your face at the answer, turning away in slight embarrassment.
“Hey, how about you make it up to me by meetin’ me at the saloon in 15? We’ll start trainin’ soon!” Oh right, training. You had nearly forgotten, having been too carried away with the logistics of the man's bed you had just slept in, and the pretty way he called you names and-
“Sounds like a plan. See you in 15 minutes.” He tipped his hat at you before leaving. It was goofy, and stupid, and you liked it. 
Not even yesterday you were shooting at the guy, pointing spears at him. Now you’re sleeping in his bed, and meeting up with him in 15 minutes!
Speaking of which, it was time to get ready-
“Look who got themselves all pretty.” North Star lobbied his compliments to you from across the bar, walking over to meet you halfway. “Let’s get you armed up and ready! Follow me.”
With that, he slipped past you, and you followed along close behind him. He led you out of the saloon, and out of the town square. You both went down one of the paths you had tread earlier when trying to make your escape. You felt sheepish retreading those panicked steps-
Luckily you stopped far before you made it to the gate, in front of a large wooden building. “The guy that works here is a friend of mine. I’m sure he’ll be happy to let you borrow some of his wares.” That didn’t sound entirely true- But you played along for now, enjoying the game of pretend.
North Star sauntered up to the door of the building, and you stood beside him on the patio. He knocked with his knuckles, yelling out through the door; “Open up, Blackjack! Don’t make me use force!” He smirked under the pointed brim of his hat, “I make the law so I can legally shoot down your doors!” How much of this was a *game*, anyway? Was he really going to gun this door down?
Suddenly, you heard the yell of an older voice, weathered with time;
“Get off my property, North Star!” You chuckled at the angered response. “I told you I wouldn’t even sell you a gumball!”
They continued to bicker back and forth as you watched North Star play the role of the negotiator. He had played it well with you earlier when you had approached him with the spear. *Now*, however, his abilities seemed to be failing him.
“You lost one of my premium revolvers last week!” Ah jeez.
“Look, I promise this is a different scenario, Jack. I won’t even step inside. You can meet me out here.” After a small pause, you could hear some rustling from behind the door. North Star started his way down the stairs and back onto the dry sand of the dunes. You followed suit. “See? I ‘ave it all under control.” He reassured you. His confidence unwavering.
“I never doubted you for a second, sheriff.” You teased, but by the looks of his reaction, he took it completely genuinely; a broad smile and a slight blush as he responded;
“Glad to hear that, rookie.” 
Eventually, a rotund purple monster, fitted out with round glasses and a fedora, walked out of the building on a pegged leg. His wooden prosthetic squeaked and wheezed against the wooden floorboards of the patio.
“Make it speedy.” He uttered. The warm wind rolled around the three of you, and the very exchange itself felt like the beginning of a standoff. The tension was so thick, that it seemed as if at any moment, North Star would shoot through it towards Blackjack, and Jack would respond, aiming his revolver at the sheriff. Excitement! And tension and drama!
Yet, nothing had happened at all. Just stares of contemplation.
“Of cooourse, sir!” North Star seemed to mimic, adopting a playful demeanour. He was a good actor, even if you solved his scheme quite quickly; “I was just gunna ask you to sell a gun to this human.”
Blackjack retreated quickly, despite his age and lack of leg. North Star was quick to make his pleas, the facade dropping for just a moment; “I worded that poorly, hold on! This ain’t a real human, you see. I was jokin’. They’re just a very fleshy monster!” Then all was quiet. He sighed while looking over at you, giving you a weak smile.
“I’ll give ya 400G.” Before you could object to such a price, Blackjack had rushed out, revolver already in hand as He and North Star made the exchange. Before you could utter a word, the transaction was done, just the quick pull of a trigger, it was over.
“North Star! That is so expensive! You can’t possibly spend that much on just a gun!” You angrily tried to reason with him, but he kept meeting your anger with a cocky looking gaze, and a smirk that he wore all too well.
“It’s fine, it’s fine dear. I can afford it! Plus, you can have it as a gift, for taking yer old one! And accidentally bashing yer head in.” If he was just going to give you a new gun, why even bother trying to get your old one? “Of course…” He started, leaning in close to you. You could nearly see under the shadow of his hat at this distance, “I’ll be making sure you don’t run off with this ‘till our deal is done. Sound good?” He waved the gun in front of you, like bait on a fishing rod. You were flushed; embarrassed at the display.
“Sure- Sounds fine.” You crossed your arms. “Don’t ever spend that much on something so stupid ever again.” You muttered, before North Star led you off.
Close by Blackjack’s shop was a training ground, with dummies set up around the place. The area around them was littered with bullet casings.
“This is where I like to practise my aim! It’s not everyday I’m going around shooting people, so dummies will have to do.” He smiled. North Star reached down to the holster on his leg, pulling out his gun. He handed the new one he had just bought to you. “Let’s see what you can do!”
You nodded confidently, walking up to the edge of the counter that stood between you and the dummies. They were about 8 metres away, and average in size. You readied your gun, aiming it towards one of the mannequins in the centre. 
The new gun felt far heavier than the toy that had been taken from you. It was a sturdy metal, with a clean sheen to it. Yet the gun felt off in your hands, you couldn’t get the same grip that you got with the toy gun, which was far smaller in size.
“Here- let me just-” You heard North Star come up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders, shifting them to a different position. “There.” He whispered softly, “You want to have one of your shoulders back a little like this.” His touch was very gentle, something that you didn’t expect after being manhandled by Ed the night prior. You felt tense at the closeness.
North Star stepped back from you, “Okay, try takin’ the shot.” He said, confidently. If only his faith in you was well placed-
You felt the trigger under your finger, and tried to push down, but the trigger was a lot stiffer than your other gun. It took a lot more force.
Suddenly you felt your shoulder jolt to the side, as the icy sound of a piercing bullet rang through your ears. You stepped away from the counter in slight shock, feeling your breath heave slightly in surprise.
“Woah now! We don’t wanna go shootin’ somebody's head off now do we?” You could hear the sheriff chuckle from behind you.
Looking back up, it was clear your bullet hadn’t even grazed the fabric flesh of the mannequin. A real gun is a lot different from the cheap shit you were using-
“Okay, okay. I think I know what the problem is.” He leant on the counter next to you, staring up at you under the brim of his hat. “Try aiming again. I’ll adjust.” 
Feeling a little tense at the offer, but you slowly shifted back into the stance you had adopted previously. “Good, good. You’ve got the shoulders down.” You felt him behind you, “Ah, you’re not lining up the front and back sights. Are you aiming with the barrel?” He said incredulously.
“Maybe-” You mumbled. “I’m going to be frank with you. I’ve never shot a real gun- I’ve hardly even shot that fake gun that you took from me. It’s just some toy!” 
You felt him move in closer, you could feel his breath on your neck, his chin on your shoulder.
“I could tell. That warning shot was just a fluke.” You could practically hear his smirk. “But that’s okay. That’s why we’re training. Gotta make it fair.” His voice was so close to you, and its southern twang helped pluck the pain of the ringing bullet out of your ears. 
North Star learnt one of his arms over yours, pushing it slightly to the left. It was so warm with him so close, you could barely stand. “See, you’ve gotta close one eye when you shoot. You can’t aim with both eyes open. That’s how I knew you had never shot a gun before.”
“Wow- exposed much?” You laughed, trying to release the tension of his body being so close to yours. This was strictly business after all!
“See, when you close your eye, you need to line up that front bump and back bump on the top of the gun. From where I am it’s lined up, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be lined up for you. And I can’t exactly get any closer to you to make this more accurate. Unless you’d like me to, of course~” He laughed, walking back slightly and observing your form. You hit him in the shoulder lightly,
“Shut up-” You mumbled with a slight chuckle. “Let me focus.” You tried the stance again, closing your eye and lining up the front and back bump on the top of the gun.
“Are you saying I distract you, darlin’?” North Star fell into more laughter. 
You tried ignoring him and his words. You lined up the two bumps, and right behind them was the mannequin. 
As he chuckled beside you, you pulled the trigger. The gun pushed back against your hand as you heard the bullet go flying. You heaved a breath in peeking over the counter to see if you had hit the dummy.
“Woah! Hey, good job rookie!” North Star had ceased his laughter, and wrapped a supportive arm around your shoulder. “You might’ve only hit its lower torso but you didn’t miss it! That’s for sure!” You felt yourself smile. It felt nice to succeed for once-
“Well, let’s keep going!”
By now it was late afternoon, though it could be hard to tell under the relentless desert rays. You had shot round after round, missing a couple before hitting a few. As you shot, you and North Star had exchanged some banter, and a conversation here and there.
You had just set off another shot, letting the ringing sound of the bullet settle in the space before you asked,
“Hey, so, I saw some VHS’s in your house. They’re yours right?”
“Yep, I scavenged them from some trash heap. It’s all human stuff from the surface. It trickles down here eventually and well- we get to collect the scraps!”
You shot another round. This one missed, to North Star’s disappointment. His saddened expression was kind of cute given the circumstances.
“No wonder you’re like a real cowboy, with all those films and stuff.”
“I guess you could say that. Maybe I was a real cowboy all along, and the good stuff knew how to find me!” He smirked.
“Sure- sure.” Another shot, this one barely missed. You grumbled in annoyance.
“I’ve always been invested in that human stuff, maybe the worlds paying me back by giving me all those movies! Like some old Western omen!”
“Of course.” You giggled, “Why do you like all this human stuff so much?” You turned to him. He sat against the counter, pondering. Not once in these past few hours had you seen him so contemplative.
After a moment he replied; “Everything just seems so happy- Even if they’re shooting over some guy's wife, or some guy's cattle, or some guy's land, they’re *free*. They can roam on their fire-proof monsters, and go riding into balls of fire all they want!” Ignoring the fire ball thing, the whole answer honestly dampened your good mood. It was clear from nearly every monster you had met that the claustrophobia of the underground had set in long before this generation of monsters was even born. 
“Yeah- I can see that.” You responded,
“So it's true?”
“Huh?”
“That humans are fire proof?”
“Well- technically speaking *yes* but-”
“I knew it! Ceroba’s going to be so mad- I knew it!” And just like that, the mood changed back to light and cheerful. Yet you could still see a hint of sadness left in his eyes. He fronted it with a visage of happiness quite well. You decided to ignore it for now.
The name he spoke caught your attention,
“Ceroba… is she the fox lady?” He nodded,
“And my best friend. Since childhood!” It’s like he wore their friendship like a badge of honour. It was honestly quite a sweet display. 
That made everything click into place a little better. Ceroba was there before, in the bar when you approached. She probably felt safe around North Star, hence why she didn’t panic when you brandished your spear.
She had talked to you later in the night as well. She seemed a bit stoic and standoff-ish but appreciative of your arrival nonetheless. Maybe it was good to have one straight man to balance the heap of crazy cowboys.
“Have you met her?” You nodded, turning away to fire another shot. This one landed! “Nice!” You heard North Star exclaim.
“Yeah, I met her briefly. When you went to set up all *this*,” You gestured around yourself, “She had spoken with me. Just asking if I was alright.” He smiled at you.
“My oldest friend and my newest friend! Pals already huh! This is going great! And she said it’d be a bad idea-” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking out at the shooting range;
“That *what* would be a bad idea?” You turned to him with slight concern,
“Well, hanging out with you ‘n all.” You frowned, turning back and taking another shot. This one hit right in the head of the mannequin.
“I knew it was a good idea though! I mean, come on, a real life human! It’s like the movies but real! And you’re so much different to how I thought you’d be!”
“You barely know me yet. I barely know *you* yet.” 
“Well then that’ll just have to change right?” He smiled, patting you on the shoulder, “Plus, it feels like I’ve known you for years already.” You couldn’t tell whether or not he was just saying that, but irregardless it felt good to hear.
“Yeah- me too.” North Star seemed to perk up at hearing that, his cheeks flushing a warm teal. He turned away from you, hiding under his hat,
“It’s getting warm- Maybe we should head in for the day?” He suggested,
“Sounds good, Sheriff.” He turned to you,
“I’ll buy ya a drink?” You smiled up at him,
“Sounds like a plan, Star.”
***
“How was trainin’ with the boss today, newbie?”
“Good- good. I’m not the best with a gun, sadly.”
“Seemed to enjoy yourself nonetheless, hm?”
“Of course. It was fun. We’re shooting guns but I didn’t feel in danger. For once-”
“I know he had fun too. Keep it up, rookie!”
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alatabouleau · 1 year
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Why the Beach divorce is unfixable (and why it doesn't work in Good Omens 2)
I think we can all agree that XMFC is a ...~flawed~ movie. I mean, I could write long, long posts about the inherent sexism and racist implications. But today, I want to talk about one thing that actually worked. That made so much sense and hit so hard, it single-handedly saved the whole film for me. Something that I've seen come up recently, again, under the cherik-tag because of another fandom and show. Where something very similar happens, only that in this case, it doesn't work at all.
(if you haven't watched GO S2 yet, spoilers. Also, if you enjoyed the second season, good for you, but this post is going to be highly critical of it. Gotta be my last post about that, since I believe in getting it out of your system but not continually spreading negativity and holding a grudge.)
So, with this post, I would like to dissect *why*: What makes the Beach Divorce (TM) in First Class work so well is its preparation in the previous events of that film and even before that. The thing about First Class is, while not being the perfect prequel timeline-wise with the previous motives of the first X-Men-trilogy, it still works *because* it is a prequel. At least the very specific part about Professor X and Magneto. Because from the start, when Charles pulls Erik out of the ocean, we, the informed audience, know how it's going to end. But for some moments you tend to forget, when they go on a trip to recruit mutants, training them, working so well together. And even when the small cracks are already visible in the way they discuss the issue of mutant integration into society, one could still hope that maybe this time, they'll find a way, settle their differences and keep building the future. Together. But it's still the same story. It's still the same characters. And both Erik and Charles could never change their core values. Their lives have already shaped them into who they are inherently, and they can't change what they do because they can't change what they *want*. Which is why the line "We want the same thing." - "Oh, I'm sorry my friend. But we do not." hits so hard. Because both is true. On a broader level, they *do* both want the same thing. A better future for mutantkind. Yet just as equally true is the fact that they will never want to choose the same path to get there.
To point it out directly, what makes the Beach Divorce (TM) so brilliantly devastating is that it makes 100% perfect sense for the two characters to behave that way. It makes sense that Erik, who sees someone he clearly cares for (loves) being shot, again!, can't initially accept that it's his fault. It makes sense for him, after taking an unimaginable amount of courage to make himself vulnerable in front of Charles, for the very first time on screen in front of ANYNONE mind you, laying down awkwardly but raw in its honesty how much this man in his arms means to him, to immediately close off and become cold again after being utterly rejected, in his PoV. It makes just as much sense for Charles who spent this movie trying to show Erik that there could be other ways to deal with issues than violence, would perceive how Erik takes on a helmet that cuts him off, kills a man while Charles is IN HIS HEAD, tries to kill "innocent" people and ultimately, shoots him, to conclude that his friend (love interest) has long since chosen a path where he could never follow him and therefore see choosing different sides (breaking up) as the only available option. And you can try to "fix" this. You can make up any scenario you can think of, and it still would play out like that because you can't change how each Erik and Charles perceive the world without changing inherently who they are as characters. That's what makes it so gut-wrenchingly tragic.
The whole tragedy of the tale of cherik is laid out in this one scene: That if the two of them looked into the mirror of erised, they'd see the same vision. Them being together and leading the mutant race in a bright future for them. But in reality, the means they choose to get to that end will never be compatible. Its tragedy defines itself through a subversion of the trope "Love on opposite sides". Because they *choose* to be that. It's not external circumstances that keep them from being together, it's their own values and convictions. Which is what keeps me so obsessed with these two, since that is so uniquely ~them~. So why do I think that this very similar scene, which I described as so brilliantly heartbreaking in one context, doesn't work for Good Omens 2? well... BECAUSE IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE FOR *THESE* CHARACTERS! Because Crowley and Aziraphale are the exact opposite of Cherik. They too, may be a couple that finds itself on different sides, but in their case, that's entirely an external circumstance, while their internal values and convictions align almost perfectly (depending whether we talk book omens or S1GO). Because the core of Ineffable spouses ship is that they are on the same side when they shouldn't be. They have their orders to obey, they have their instructions to despise each other, but they simply don't care enough since They are more interested in earth (and each other) than their respective head offices. That's what makes them work as friends, as a couple, as a ship. So when season 2 pulled a beach divorce à la Cherik, I was mad and disappointed because for me, it tears apart what their relationship is all about. And I'm ok with that kind of sacrifice when it gives you something valuable narrative-wise, which it didn't. And I have no hope of season 3 paying off for that. There was just not a big enough reason for me to break off the backbone of the entire story. That it is possible for you to make your own choices and be with the people you want to be with even if an oppressive system tells you no. It just doesn't make sense.
(So yeah, does this post only exist because I tried to get my head off from the destruction of a very dear ship of mine but also not wanting to spoil anyone's fun, by scrolling through the cherik-tag on Tumblr instead of the good omens tags and seeing so many posts comparing these two scenes, thinking "can you escape this *anywhere* on this page?" while also getting annoyed since how I pointed out in this post, it doesn't work at all in the second context? Maybe. But that's just me. ;))
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runningfrom2am · 1 year
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the sea around us; chapter twenty-one
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In which Rafe Cameron has to choose between his dad and a pogue who's changing his outlook on life more and more every day.
(rafe cameron x f!oc)
(eventual!jj maybank x f!oc)
warnings/tags: violence, drug/alcohol use, smoking, sexual content (if you squint), slowburn, older brother’s best friend, (these tags are obv not exhaustive but regardless it’s pretty PG13)
wc: 2.6k
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TW: drug use, suggestive content (decently sfw)
*:・゚✧*:・゚
"Shit.. shit shit shit no! Come on.." John B says as we slow to a stop, in the marsh still a ways away from land. I look up from where I had my head pressed to his back. I spent most of the drive back sobbing, and I just stopped, but apparently, there is no time to relax.
"Fuck. I sigh, hugging John B tighter for a moment.
"We've gotta swim." He says, turning to look back at me. I nod softly, and swing my leg over, steadying myself before jumping in, and John B follows behind me. We swim back to shore as fast as we can manage, and John B leads me to a property with a very colorful house. Lana Grubbs.
"Wait- John B." I stop him, placing my hand on his forearm and he turns, eyes read and chest heaving. He's angry- and who wouldn't be? I am too. "Here... I, uh... I found this. On the boat." I say, digging in my soaked shorts pocket and pulling out the watch, holding it out to him.
He stares down at my hand, slowly reaching out and taking it from me before turning it over in his palm. He nods softly and his lip quivers. Before I can think about it, I'm wrapping my arms around him in a hug. "I'm so sorry..." I say, feeling him squeezing me back.
"Thank you." He whispers, afraid that if he talks any louder he'll burst into tears.
After a few moments, we walk up to the door, and John B opens the screen door. We see Mrs. Grubbs standing there making tea. She looks up at us, saying nothing.
"I need to know." John B says.
*:・゚✧*:・゚
The whole walk home after our talk with Lana was silent- I tried to talk to John B more but he wasn't having it. We eventually return to The Chateau, where everyone else is waiting for us and prepping the pully system we made to remove the gold from the well. John B storms inside, shoving past anyone who gets in his way. He's furious- understandably. I decide not to say anything to everyone until he does- it is very much his story to tell. We all watch as he grabs the gun, and then we follow him out to JJ's bike, which he hops on as everyone bombards him with questions.
"John B, please, talk to us." I say, feeling tears on my cheeks again. I'm heartbroken for him.
"Ward knows about the gold. He killed my dad." He says, and everyone is shocked. Just then, John B speeds off, leaving me to pick up the pieces and fill in the blanks of the bomb he just dropped on everyone.
Instantly, everyone looks at me. "He's gonna kill Ward..." I mumble, still in shock after the events of the day.
"What happened, Snowy?" Pope asks me.
"It- it's a long story." I sigh, wiping under my eyes. "Ward wanted a cut if he could help us with legal crap with the gold, and then when John B realized he had killed Big John, Ward tried to kill us too. He shot a spear right at me. It missed by like an inch." I explain. "He literally tried to kill us."
"Holy shit- man, he's definitely going after Ward." JJ sighs, running his hand through his hair.
"I... I need to call Rafe. Like, right now." I say quietly, ignoring everyone as they talk about what to do next. "Kie, can I have your phone? Please?" I ask and she looks at me, seeming confused and obviously upset.
"No, we need to call the cops, you can't call your boyfriend right now." She says, pulling it out of her pocket as I grab it right out of her hands.
"He's Ward's son, Kie, he might be able to help- or do something, I need to tell him."
"You're not telling him anything." JJ shakes his head.
"I can't tell him his dad just tried to shoot me? It seems relevant to what we're going to do- maybe he can distract his dad or something so John B doesn't get to him first and kill him! It will buy us time- if nothing else." I say quickly, unsure if anything was even English.
"Guys, she's right. We need time- and I don't think we have any better ideas." Pope agrees with me.
"Thank you." I sigh, opening Kie's phone finally and stepping away to call Rafe.
It rings for what feels like an eternity before he picks up. "Hello?"
"Rafe? It's Snowy."
"Oh, hey, what can I do for you, baby? Why didn't you call with your phone?"
"Rafe, I-" I break down at this point. I don't know what to say, there was a moment this morning when I didn't ever think I would hear his voice again.
"What's the matter?" He asks, sounding worried.
"Where- where is your dad?" I ask, trying to pull it together.
"I- I don't know, why? Are you okay?"
"I need your help, okay? Can you help?" I ask him.
"Alright... Yeah, of course, anything. Where are you?" He asks as Kie runs up to me.
"We're taking the boat, and we're going to go there to see if we can find John B." She tells me and I nod, waving them off.
"I'm at the Chateau, but don't come here. Please, just see if you can find your dad okay? And don't tell him I talked to you. He can't know, okay?"
"Okay, yeah.." Rafe agrees hesitantly. "Please, tell me what happened. You're crying right now, something is wrong, so just let me come help you."
I shake my head a little as I sob into the phone. "Can you come to get me instead? Please? I changed my mind. My friends are leaving now, I don't want to be alone. Please." I sniffle.
"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes, okay? Hold tight. I'll be right there." He says and I nod as if he can see me, and then he hangs up.
Rafe must have sped here, because he arrives much faster than he said, jumping out of the car and jogging up to me where I'm sitting on the porch.
"Snowy, hey, hey, are you hurt? What's happening?" He asks, pulling me into his arms as I stand up to greet him.
"I'm okay.." I say shakily.
"What happened?" He says, pulling away and grabbing my shoulders, looking me up and down to see if I'm injured at all.
"Nothing- I, nothing happened, I just need you here." I lie, my voice shaking as I hug him again and he sighs, resting his hand on the back of my head.
"What about my dad? Why were you asking about him?" He asks worriedly.
"I- uhm.." I should at least tell him some of the truth. "We think he killed Big John, and John B came home and stormed out with a gun, so I was worried he'd go after him." I explain.
"My dad? No. No, no, no, he didn't kill anyone, okay? I know he didn't do that." Rafe insists, and I nod a little as I look down.
"Look, I told you, and Kegs has told you, these Pogues are crazy, Snow- they're putting these insane ideas in your head, and, and, you can't keep listening to this. I'm sorry, but I can't watch them hurt you like this anymore, put you in danger over and over again, I just can't do that." He says, looking down at me, then running his hand through his messy hair. "Look, let's just go back to where I'm crashing, okay? Come and stay with me for a couple of days. Get your mind off this- you need a break from them."
I nod and he takes my hand, leading me back to his car and helping me in. "You're gonna be okay, alright? You're safe with me." Rafe says, leaning over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.
*:・゚✧*:・゚
Rafe takes me back to the house he's staying at, which I don't recognize at all. We decide to order some food, but I feel so sick about what happened that I can hardly eat. We're sitting at the dining table, and I'm just picking my food apart.
"Snowy, you need to eat that. Seriously." Rafe tells me, and I notice he's already done.
I sigh a little bit and push my hair back behind my ears. "I just don't feel hungry. I think it's stress."
"See? This is what those Pogues are doing to you. They're killing you, you need to eat." Rafe insists.
"I will." I agree, nodding softly. "Do you have any weed?" I ask him, leaning my elbow on the table.
"I, well, yeah, I do. Do you want some?" He asks, holding his thumb up over his shoulder, offering to go get it.
"Yeah, I think it would help." I grin, and he nods as he gets up and runs upstairs. I pull out Kie's phone and text my friends.
K: find jb?
P: yeah, he's fine. we're back at the chat.
JJ: where'd you go snowy white?
K: i'm with rafe at the place he's crashing at. everyone okay over there?
P: we're all fine, ward lives to see another sunset
JJ: bad news tho, gold is gone.
I sigh and put the phone back in my pocket. Of course, Ward got the gold. Just like that, our hopes were crushed. I guess we still have my plan B, but I don't actually think I have the heart to do that to Rafe.
Rafe comes back down the stairs, holding up a zip lock bag and his bong, shaking them a little as he speaks. "Let's go out on the deck?" He asks, and I nod, getting up and following him outside.
After being friends with JJ and John B for so long, my tolerance is pretty high, so it takes a little while for me to actually feel anything. The first time I ever smoked it was the three of us with Big John, and I'm not sure I've ever had so much fun. Kie was in her kook era, but at the time we didn't need her. I never felt out of place with them, especially with Big John there, who treated me like his own daughter. I miss him every day, it's hard for me to finally swallow the truth, that he is dead; even if I kind of already knew that.
I find myself giggling as I remember that day, out on the porch of the chat. I was coughing my lungs out, and Big John was rubbing my back. He really was so kind.
"Is it finally hitting?" Rafe asks, grinning at me as I look up at him, a smile still spread across my face.
"Yeah, sorta." I admit. "I was just thinking about the first time I ever smoked." I tell him and he laughs a little.
"Oh yeah? How did that go for you?"
"It was good. I mean, I thought I was dying for a bit, but it was still fun." I shrug. "Big John bought it for us after John B beat him at poker. He had the condition that we had to share it with him, so obviously we did, but he wasn't weird about it or anything."
"Big John?" Rafe asks, and it seems I've piqued his interest. "You were close with him, hey?"
"Yeah," I nod, looking down at my hands in my lap and my smile fades. "He was like a father to me. That sounds so stupid, but he really looked out for me. He cared for me when my parents were focused on Kegs and the twins, so pretty much always." I explain.
Rafe nods a little. "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you about how you're doing, with that, uhm, that situation."
That's so sweet. "I'm good, you know. Up until this morning, I was doing fine." I say, not really wanting to think about what happened to him at the hands of this boy's father. Luckily, weed is my friend and the thought is quickly lost.
"Yeah, I couldn't imagine what you guys went through..." Rafe says, and it's pretty obvious he doesn't know what to say. "If I can help, you know, if I can do anything, tell me, alright?"
I smile at that. "Thank you, Rafe... You know I'd do anything for you, too."
"Yeah, so... So, so, do you mean anything?" He asks with a slight smirk and I nod, leaning closer to him a little.
"Anything," I whisper, my lips just inches from his now. He looks down at my lips and then back into my eyes before leaning in to kiss me.
It's a matter of seconds before it starts to get a bit more heated, and then he pulls away, holding my cheek.
"Anything?" Rafe asks again and I nod, biting my bottom lip. "Come with me." He says, getting up and grabbing my hand to help me up.
I follow him back inside, looking back at the stuff we left behind us on the deck as the door closes behind us. I know I shouldn't be okay with this- I remember what happened to me this morning, but I feel so disconnected from that fear in this moment, so I decide to let it go.
We get upstairs and he turns me around, grabbing my hips and kissing me as he slowly walks me back towards the bed. "So, I've kind of been having this dream, lately..." He mumbles into my lips as he pushes me back so I'm laying down, my legs hanging off the edge of the bed as he leans over me. I hum back against his lips, letting him know I'm listening.
"I just, I think you're so hot, and I really want to do this so just hear me out, okay?" He says, sounding almost nervous, which makes me hesitate. I don't think I'm about to do anything crazy the first time we sleep together. But of course, I'll hear him out.
"Yeah? What is it?" I ask, smiling at him as I play with his hair, both my arms wrapped around his neck.
"I want to do a line off you." He says, and I feel my eyes widen a little but I try not to freak out. He's supposed to be quitting coke.
"I, well..." I start, still trying to figure out how to word this without him thinking I'm shutting him down.
"Snowy, please, I'm trying to get clean I promise, I just- I've dreamt about this. Please, just one..." He pleads, kissing down my neck.
I sigh a little, my eyes fluttering closed. How could I say no? It's not like he's supposed to stop all at once anyways.
"Yeah, yeah. Of course..." I whisper, and he stops and looks up at me, a slight smile showing on his lips.
"You're amazing." He smiles, kissing me again for a few seconds before getting up, going over to his backpack in the corner, and pulling out a bag full of white powder and a credit card. I can't believe I'm about to let this happen, but I suppose it could be much worse.
He comes back over and kneels down in front of me as I look up at the ceiling. I don't want to watch. I feel his warm hands against the skin on my thighs, and I giggle as he places a few kisses on my skin before getting to work making his line. I focus on taking deep breaths while he does it, then goes back to kissing my thighs. I look down at him, sitting up a little and smiling at him.
"Fuck- I'm obsessed with you, Juliette." He mumbles, smiling as he climbs back on top of me and connects our lips again.
*:・゚✧*:・゚
A/N;
Not this chapter being lowkey spicy... I do not write smut so this is as close as we're gonna get lol
-R
taglist: @boo22sstuff @madelynie (message me or reply if you want to be added!!)
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veryace-ficrecs · 1 year
Text
Criminal Minds Fanfic Recs
This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)   
He Was Left on the Steps of the FBI in a Basket by schrijverr - Rated T
Maybe not a basket, but sixteen-year-old Dr. Spencer Reid suddenly shows up at FBI headquarters claiming that his mother has been kidnapped. The BAU isn’t certain first, but the case he sets them on proves to be an interesting one, wherein they get to know the young doctor until he’s practically family. 
Shuffle the Odds by schrijverr - Rated T
Spencer is a Vegas boy, who's game is poker, no matter what others might believe. The team slowly catches onto it.
Following Spencer from when he started at the BAU till season 7 with poker as red thread.
Dr. Spencer Reid's First Case by boredom - Rated T
Derek Morgan wasn't sure he trusted Gideon's judgement. After all, who allows a 23 year old who can't even pass the academy's physical exam to become a field agent? Luckily for him, Reid is about to prove just how competent (and badass) he can be.
Trigger warnings: blood, violence, mentions of school shootings, death, lack of respect towards people suffering from mental illness, and other things you would normally find in a Criminal Minds episode.
Bite Your Tongue (Choke Yourself To Sleep) by drspencerreid - Rated G
reid tipped his head back and leaned it on the shoulder behind him, making it look like he was just putting on a show. he whispered, "i swear to god if you hold what i'm about to do against me, i'm sending garcia the baby pictures your mother gave me."
••
or the one in which spencer has to go undercover in a club and his friends are far too smug
Gotta Live Before We Get Older (Nothing To Lose) by drspencerreid - Rated G
the silence that followed in the next few seconds was eventually broken by prentiss loudly exclaiming, "i'm sorry, what was that?"
•••
or the one in which spencer surprises everyone with his view on tattoos
The Times They Forget by Ena2705 - Rated G
Spencer Reid is a genius, anyone can tell you that. But sometimes people forget that his head wasn’t always buried in books, and there was a time when he did something other than catch serial killers. 
These Are My Friends (I Love Them) by drspencerreid - Rated G
"as much as i have enjoyed learning all these new sides to the kid, i should start going too. i'm very slightly starting to get old, and i really shouldn't have tested it with all those shots."
"very slightly starting to?" spencer repeated. "rossi, i think you surpassed that like sixty years ago."
••
or the one in which spencer gets drunk and honest
Dumb and Ditzy by TimelessTears - Rated T
AU. Years of being bullied for his smarts left him dreading when people figured out he was a genius. What better way to throw them off then by acting stupid? Enter: Dumb Blond Spencer Reid. 
Supernatural:
Monsters in Your Closet by AlbusCorvus - Rated G
Series: 2 Works
When Castiel goes on a hunt alone and is caught by a particular FBI team, the brothers do something they never thought they’d have to. They kidnap SSA Spencer Reid to make an exchange. But being kidnapped by delusional serial killers is nothing like Spencer thought it would be. 
Monsters are Real by WhiskyBoys - Rated T
'Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.' Stephen King.
The kid sitting in the interview room swings on the rear legs of his chair, throws back his head, and at the top of his lungs, sings a painfully off-key version of 'Wanted Dead or Alive'. Hotch looks at Morgan with one eye-brow arched in question. "You think he's your unsub?"
No Difference by The_Bookkeeper - Rated T
Derek has been in a lot of bad situations. This one easily makes the top five. Or would, if Dean and Sam Winchester were actually acting like the sadistic psychopaths he expected them to be. Instead, Dean is referencing Star Trek, Sam is comforting Reid, and Derek has never been more confused.
Batman:
How... Did I Get Here? by PurpleMango - Rated T
Spencer Reid gets transported universes, happens along Batman, and ends up with a job as the resident quirky profiler to the Bat Family
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shinestarhwaa · 1 year
Text
QUERENCIA - CHAPTER 4: Friends that kiss
Tumblr media
Navigation:
&lt;< Previous chapter
>> Next chapter
>> Donna's introduction
>> Masterlist
Word Count: 1.2k
Tags/Warnings: flirting, mentioned masturbation, not rly anything else, Sorry for the shorter chapter!
ENJOY!
''Hey, Jongho, I just heard they're gonna ask you and Gayoung from Donna to do a special stage together,'' Ateez' manager smiled as he patted him on his back, ''Congrats, that's great.'' Jongho's eyes shot wide open. ''What?'' ''Yeah, apparently Gayoung requested it because she's a big fan of you apparently, have you met her?''
''Y-Yeah we've met, we sang Gravity together, I helped her practice,'' Jongho mumbled as he tried to keep himself together. ''Cool, well, I haven't heard details about the special stage yet, but I'm rooting for you!'' Jongho watched his manager walk away in awe, feeling his heart race. A special stage? With his crush?
''Hey oppa!''
Jongho quickly turned around, finding Gayoung to stand there. She wore a black and white beret and matching sweater that hugged her body adorably. Her black skirt pleated halfway her thighs and the black stockings and short black leather boots were gonna linger on his mind for a long time. She had never looked better.
''Hey, Gayoung, h-how are you?'' Jongho stammered, still taken aback from what he had just heard. ''I'm good! Shooting some video's with the girl but we took a break. Do you wanna take a few pictures of me on the roof?'' Jongho smiled and nodded, following her into the elevator.
The two idols stood in the elevator in silence, waiting to arrive at the roof. Just before the doors opened, Jongho brushed his hand against the girls'. ''You look lovely,'' Jongho commented, making Gayoung blush. He noticed she did that a lot. Cute.
''Thanks, you do too. I like the bracelet. And your ring,'' she said as she stepped out of the elevator. ''You got nice hands. We should compare them, I mean, for like, science.''
Jongho laughed and shook his head. ''Compare hands for science? What class are you taking?'' ''It's for my Jongho-anatomy class.'' Jongho laughed even harder as he watched Gayoung find the perfect spot for a few pictures. ''Anatomy, hm?'' A smirk played on his lips, as he watched her blush, again. She's so darn cute.
''I meant-'' ''I know what you meant,'' Jongho said as he took her phone, positioning himself so she could show off her long legs. He smiled as she posed professionally, like a true idol. ''I'm sure they look great, you're photogenetic, more than me,'' he chuckled. Gayoung checked the pictures and smiled. ''Thank you, they're great! I'm gonna post them on Instagram.''
As the two walked back inside to get to the elevator Jongho took her hand, taking the girl by surprise. ''Didn't you want to compare hands for your Jongho-anatomy class?'' Gayoung felt so embarrassed, she could never shut her mouth to keep herself from saying embarrassing things. ''Don't shy away now,'' Jongho smiled, making her heart flutter. Was he flirting?
''Ah, you're tiny,'' he grinned as he compared his hand to Gayoung's, who felt mortified as she felt herself sweating. His hand was soft but looked manly and she couldn't help but wonder what they could do after watching all his apple-breaking videos. This man was strong.
''I'm not tiny! I'm nearly as tall as you are,'' she laughed. ''Could still break you in half w- phh, wait no I did not mean for it to sound like-'' Gayoung and Jongho stared at each other with big eyes, breath hitched in their throats. ''Well, I gotta run back to the girls, see ya!'' Gayoung said before running down the stairs. Jongho facepalmed himself and sighed. Did he just scare her off with painfully bad flirtations? How tragic.
Wooyoung felt his heart drop everytime some mentioned Evelyn, Donna or even anything remotely related to what he did a few days ago. Memories of himself with his cock in his hand flooded his mind as he saw pictures or fragments of her everywhere. He came for her, and that first time was also not the last one. It happened another time, the same night and he was not proud of it.
He had tried to go to sleep but his thoughts kept him awake. Wooyoung had decided to start watching some video's and he came across fancams of Evelyn, immediately making his cock harden again. It was like he came alive whenever he saw her. The way her thighs looked under the little skirt she wore on stage made him nearly combust in his underwear.
And so he slipped them off again and jerked off until he physically couldn't cum anymore, and yet he still felt so frustrated. As he stood in the bathroom, removing the cum from his hand and pelvis and phone screen, he sighed deeply, rethinking all of his life choices. Should he go for it? Make a move on her?
He knew she often danced in the practice room on the second floor, after 9PM. What would happen if he slipped in, fucked her there on the dance floor?
Little did he know that was all Evelyn wanted. She laid in her bed, sliding her fingers down her panties. Zora was still in the living room so she hoped to have a little alone time before she slept. The thought of Wooyoung's body flooded her mind and drove her crazy. She felt how wet she got whenever he was close and the urge not to kiss him was so bad.
Just when she closed her eyes, she heard the door of her room open. She sighed and turned to the wall as she listened to Zora getting in bed. There went her moment. She should lure Wooyoung in, so fucking her was the only thing he could think of.
''Okay, so let me repeat this. You are crushing on Gayoung?'' ''Yes.'' ''You sang together?'' ''Yes.'' ''You flirted with her?'' ''Tried.'' ''Accidentally made a sexual joke and she ran off?'' ''Totally.''
Seonghwa and Jongho stared at each other before the oldest broke the silence again. ''Yeah you might've messed up big time, jjongie, you're like the new king of being passive agressive with flirting,'' he laughed. ''Hyung, I am seriously worried, don't laugh at me now, I just had to tell someone I could trust!''
''You're right, you're right, I'll do better but come on it is pretty funny. You don't tell a girl you're gonna break them in half, Jongho, that's insane.'' Jongho sighed and nodded, ''Well yeah, duh, I didn't mean to. I just thought we liked each other and I got nervous. Do you think she'll still like me? I think we are good friends now but, we are kinda more than that...''
''Kid, I don't know her well enough to judge. But you shouldn't give up until you've heard an actual 'no' after confessing, okay? It's okay to fail sometimes, doesn't mean your chances are zero,'' Seonghwa said as he patted his back, encouraging him. ''You'll be okay. I'm still surprised though. You're not the type of people I'd have put together.''
Jongho nodded, agreeing with the older one. ''I mean, me neither, but right from the start I was drawn to her and she's so... pretty. She's cute. Very sweet. You know, she blushes all the time, it's adorable.'' Seonghwa smiled as he watched Jongho go on and on over his crush. He felt his heart swell when he saw the twinkle in his dongsaengs eyes. Seonghwa felt happy for him, he'd never seen Jongho like this before, and he could use some happy news.
It had been a while since he himself had a feeling like this, but seeing Jongho be so excited over a crush made him think what it would be like to find someone for himself again. He'd have to think about it, Seonghwa decided. But little did he know, his wishes would come true sooner than expected.
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @lemonhongjoong @babesindestroyland @changbinslovelylegs
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Note
Can you do a prompt for domestic cleon fluff, bonus points if they have children
Well, you said kids and uhhh, how about three of them?
Media: Resident Evil
Ship: Claire/Leon
Rating: General; Tags: Children, domestic fluff, background platonic or romantic Valenfield
-----------------
“Mom? Why does auntie Jill have a dog we can’t play with?” Claire looks down at her son’s serious face, a scrunched little V in between his faint red-brown eyebrows.
“Well,” she says, leaning back on the counter and wiping her hands on a dishtowel, “she’s a service dog. She’s working right now.”
“Her dog has a job?” The V gets deeper and Claire has to smile at his incredulous tone. Ruffling his hair she laughs, Leon, across from her leaning on the stove chuckles.
“Yeah. She’s got a job. She makes sure Jill feels okay, watches out for her.”
“So not like Grover.” he says slowly, “All Grover does is sleep. And poop.”
“Yup. Just like your sister.” Leon says, dodging the towel Claire snaps his way with a smile before scooping up Scott and laughing with him. 
Scott’s childish voice rings through the hallway as Leon carries him away before Claire can hear him shouting in the backyard. Their oldest, Shirley yells back, sounding like she’s starting up a game of tag. Claire smiles to herself, reaching up to put the last of the morning dishes away.
“I don’t know why you’re doing that.” Leon says behind her fondly, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her back into him. “We’re just going to have to pull them all out again once your brother stops hogging the grill.” 
“Like I’m letting any of my flatware out on that concrete, besides, you let him take over.” Leon kisses along her neck and Claire tilts her head to the side with a quiet sigh. Who’d’ve thought, all those years ago, that they'd end up here? Three kids, a big yard, too idyllic to be real but it is. Chris’ deep laugh sounds from outside and Claire can only guess that it’s from some quiet joke Jill told him, or maybe the kids being goofy. 
“Eugh. ‘Let’ is a strong word, he would have been annoying till I let him, it was strategic.” 
“Ah.” Claire turns in his arms and smiles into the kiss he gives her. “Strategic. Sure, sure. Totally believe that, and not that maybe you didn’t want to be in charge of food? Huh? Mr. I Burn Most Things Kenedy?”
“Hm. I’ll let that one slide.” On the counter the baby monitor squawks to life, “Sorry, gotta go, my baby’s calling.”
“I always knew I was the side piece!” Claire calls and Leon claps his hand to his heart as if shot and stumbles dramatically out the doorway. 
Once outside the afternoon passes in a haze of dreamy happiness. Leon brings the baby downstairs and shoots Claire a faux-annoyed look when immediately Chris scoops up his newest niece. Claire pokes him in the side once and laughs as he jumps, watching with an unconscious smile as Chris sits carefully next to Jill and the two of them make the baby laugh with funny faces.
“Cece, right?” Jill asks.
“Yeah, well, Celia, but we call her Cece.”
“She’s beautiful.”
-
Just as Cece is finally asleep after her last bottle, from down the hall comes a loud wail. In her crib, the sound makes Cece start and her cries join in with an ear piercing harmony. 
“I’ve got him, you good here?” Leon nods, already focused on soothing the startled infant, pulling her into his arms.
Claire cracks the door to her son’s bedroom open wider, adding illumination to the shark night-light and glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, “Hey baby, what’s happening?” 
Behind her she can hear a door open quietly and she turns, nodding to Shirley, “He’s okay, I’ve got him, thanks Love.” Shirley sleepily nods and closes her door again.
Scott is sitting up in his bed, no longer sobbing but hiccuping with tears stains running tracks down his cheeks. When Claire lays down beside him he snuggles into her arms immediately, leaving a snotty-wet smear stain right in the center of her shirt, but she can’t say she minds. “Want to tell me about it?”
“It was-” He hiccups again and she rubs his back soothingly, “Scary, big dogs- and I couldn’t find you!”
“I’m right here, I’ll always be here.” 
His hands are fisted into her shirt, “But what if I can’t find you?” 
“You know how it goes, just like in the grocery store. I’ll find you, no matter what. No matter what.” 
He still looks troubled but lets himself be soothed, the exhaustion of the day settling in again.
“You can sleep with us tonight if you want.”
“Shirley says five is too old to sleep in your bed.”
“Well. I’ll tell you a secret,” Scott leans in with his big serious eyes, dying to know, “Shirley would still get nightmares when she was seven.” 
Scott giggles with her, “Okay.” 
“Okay.” Claire nods, picking him up despite how heavy he’s getting. By the time she’s changed into her pajamas he’s already asleep right in the middle of their bed. Claire scoots him over enough to give herself room and he’s dead to the world, sleeping soundly while she reads and waits for Leon. When Leon finally enters she holds a finger up to her mouth, pointing at their son. Leon only lifts his eyebrows, moving one of Scott’s arms off his pillow as he slides in.
“What are you smiling about?” He asks quietly.
“Just thinking. We’ve been through quite a bit to get here. Reminding myself to be grateful, I guess.” She whispers to him over Scott’s head.
“We’re pretty lucky, for sure.” He reaches for her cheek and she turns her head to kiss his palm. “Really lucky.”
-----
Uh, yeah. Hi. Had no idea how to start with this prompt but ended up having a lot of fun with it? Hope this was something close!
Shirley: 8
Scott: 5
Celia: 5 months
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dottie-writes-tmnt · 2 months
Text
Confessions (pt. 3)
This is chapter 11 of my fic A New Kind of Familiar. Tags and other chapters can be found here!
I apologize for how short this one is but there’s an important bit after this that had to be separate. Sooo
“Ruby,” Raph murmured. Ruby paid him no mind, his fiery glare still on Casey.
 
“Again,” he demanded, and the girl obliged gladly. The two were locked in fist-to-fist combat a few moments later. Ruby had found that fighting was a good way to get his bad feelings out, and Casey was always up for it. The girl flipped him onto his shell and he shot right back up, charging at her.
 
“Ruby, Donnie said sorry, but you know— “
 
“I don’t know shit,” he replied, landing a hit on Casey’s face, which lifted the fog in his brain a little. They’d been at this for two hours. Ruby loved his buddy; he could always count on her. Red sighed.
 
“Can we at least talk about it? I won’t push anymore if we do.”
 
“What’s there to talk about? You guys want me to talk to Splinter, even though I’ve explicitly stated that I do not like that bastard and every time we’ve talked I ended up walking away crying? I’m good, thanks.”
 
“Ruby.”
 
“I talked!” he argued, delivering a particularly hard hit to Cassandra, who winced but quickly recovered. His temper was flaring up, something ugly starting to grow within him the longer this went on.
 
“Okay, thank you for talking. I think you’re gonna beat Cass this time.”
 
“Because I will,” he said, feeling his anger die down some.
He’d been here for months. He knew he couldn’t avoid Splinter forever. So maybe…
***
“Cass, you gotta be faster,” Ruby informed her with a clap on the shoulder as they exited the training room. The skinhead simply nodded, rolling her neck.
 
“Are you going to listen to Big Red?” she asked, her voice softer. Ruby grimaced. After a few moments, he shrugged.
 
“Think about it,” she said simply. “Do whatever you think is best for you.”
 
This was the most calm and serious he’d seen her. Ever. He nodded.
 
“I will. Thanks, Casey.”
 
“Of course.”
***
 
Splinter had invalidated his emotions since he was seven. He had fucked with him for being trans since he was four. He dead named him for fun, pit his brothers against him, and raised them living as a competition where they should hate each other. He’d threatened to kill Spike a few times.
He beat on them, lectured them for so many things he probably shouldn’t have, degraded and berated him in front of his brothers, let his brothers shoot arrows at him and insult him to “teach him a lesson”, and compared him to the man who had been trying to kill their whole family since the beginning of time. And so, so much more. And he told it all to this Splinter, who looked horrified.
 
How strange.
Talking about it was…hard. He couldn’t find the right words at the start and some spilled out seemingly on their own, tumbling out of him and clearing away the hurt in his chest and then others stuck in his throat and clawed and fought on their way out as he forced them into the air between him and Splinter.
Some made him sniffle, some made him feel some weird feeling he could never name, and all of them brought memories.
And this Splinter sat patiently through it all, his expression one of sympathy.
“My son, I am so sorry that happened to you,” the rat man said, and Ruby nearly crumbled. “That man was not a father, he was just a jail keeper. I am disgusted by his actions, but I hope that one day you do not see us as the same.”
 
Ruby sniffled. He was still skeptical, but…
 
“I can tell you’re not like him.”
 
It might take him a while to trust this Splinter, but he could tell. This Splinter was good.
At least, better than his own.
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hollybell51 · 2 years
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Chapter Six
Gotta follow your master
Our Treasure - Jim Hawkins x fem!Reader
Chapter Five, masterpost
Word count: 1114 
Summary: John’s “little palaver” goes sour, you say more things you regret. So does Jim. 
Notes: more of my attempted angst, sorry not sorry. Don’t forget this is on AO3 too if you wanna read it there for some reason, just gonna keep pushing it lol
“Lass.” You raised your head at John’s voice, sitting up and straightening your crumpled shirt. “We’re goin’ down,” he continued, “Meltdown shot their longboat outta the sky, saw it crash on the planet.”
“Is Jim alright?” you asked, then at his frown added: “I mean, because of the map.”
“I don’t know,” he said, still frowning, “but you’d be best to watch yourself.”
You nodded, sitting back as the crew jumped aboard, each taking up positions on the benches.
The descent was smooth, and at any other time you would have admired the strange beauty of the planet. All around, lumpy mushroom-like plants reached for the clouded sky, vines and moss coating the ground. But this wasn’t any other time, and all you could think about was Jim. You’d come to accept that he’d more than likely heard you say that he was nothing to you, which was one of the biggest lies you’ve ever told. Maybe if you found him and the others you could explain.
You trekked through the odd forest (forest?) for around an hour before you finally came to a large, cleared area. Across the plain was an odd sort of building with a large hole in the front of it. On closer inspection, it looked like a very skinny person was standing in the doorway, waving at you.
“Hey fellas!” they shouted, jumping up and down. “Hey, we’re over here!”
The crew rushed forwards, guns drawn, and began firing at the figure, who quickly ducked out of sight. Someone was shooting back at you from the entrance, and you caught your breath. Was that where they were hiding? Was Jim in there?
“Stop wastin’ your fire!” John yelled, limping up to the rest of you. The gunshots stopped among mutters of disappointment as the old cook tied a piece of white cloth onto a stick, holding it high. “Hello up there!” he called, heaving himself up the hill towards the building. “Jimbo? If ah, if it’s alrigh’ with the Captain, I’d like a short word wit’ ya. No tricks, just a little palaver.”
You scrambled up beside him, shielding your eyes against the brightness of the sky as you stared up at the house. “Nice place,” you noted dryly, indicating the copious amounts of vines spilling from the entrance. But you did quite like the way it looked, it had a look that distinctly said “haunted ruins” to you. Or perhaps you were simply being fanciful. 
“Are you sure that it’s a good idea for you to be here?” John asked carefully, glancing at the knife handles visible on your belt. You didn’t say anything, just pulled your shirt down and squared your shoulders, lifting your chin.
After a few seconds of waiting, you spotted someone clambering over the edge of the hole in the front of the building, sliding down the ivy and landing gracefully a few metres away. Jim dusted his hands, then walked towards John and you cautiously. The handle of a gun was visible at his waist. 
“Hey Morph,” you smiled as the little guy zoomed towards you, swirling around your finger.
“Ah, I wondered where you’d nicked off to!” John said as Morph moved to him, cooing brightly. He sat down on a rock, groaning and rubbing at his damaged leg. “Oh, this old leg’s downright snarky since that game o’ tag we had in the galley, ‘ey?” he chuckled.
Jim glared at him. His eyes flicked briefly to you, then to your hand, then away again. You pressed your lips firmly together, keeping your face as neutral as possible.
“Whatever you heard back there,” John began, seriously this time, “at least the part concerning you, I didn’t mean a work of it. If that blood-thirsty lot had thought I’d gone soft, they’d have gutted us both!”
Still, Jim didn’t say anything.
“Now listen to me,” John moved closer, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “If we play our cards right, all three of us can walk away from this rich as kings!”
“Yeah?” Jim asked, his interest piqued.
John smiled. “You get us that map, and an even portion of the treasure is yours! ‘ey?” he extended a hand, still grinning.
“Boy,” Jim sighed, and his face darkened. “You are really something. All that talk of greatness, light coming off my sails, what a joke.”
“Well see here, Jimbo--!”
“At least you taught me one thing!” he continued, “stick to it, right? Well that’s just what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna make sure that you never see one doubloon of my treasure! Either of you!” He turned to you, but looked away quickly.
“That treasure is owed me, by thunder—”
“Well good luck tryna find it without my map, by thunder!”
“Oh, you still don’t know how to pick your fights, do you boy?” the cook growled. “Now, mark me. Either I get that map by dawn tomorrow, or so help me, I’ll use the ship’s cannons to blast you all to kingdom come!” He turned, calling sharply: “come on, lass. Morph! Blast it.” He cursed when Morph stayed with Jim.
You started after him, but stopped. He didn’t notice, he was too angry.
“You better go, right?” Jim said, glaring at your feet. “Gotta follow your master.”
“I—” You stopped, lost for words. You felt like you might throw up again, only there was nothing left in your stomach.
“Or are you gonna throw another knife at me? Maybe you won’t miss this time.”
“I hit exactly what I was aiming at, when I was aiming at it,” you hissed.
“Yeah, me!” he shouted, stepping forwards. “You know, I really thought we had something, (Y/N). But I’m nothing to you, right? Just a way to get the treasure?”
You should have told him that that was a lie. You should have told him that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean anything you said, and that he meant way more than is rational to you. You should have told him that if you had to choose between him and that treasure, you would choose him every time. You should have told him the truth.
But you didn't. Instead, you withdrew a knife from your belt and tossed it to him, spinning it so that he could catch it by the handle. He did, staring down at it then back at you. 
“Keep it,” you said, horrified to hear the tremor in your own voice. You turned around before he could see the tears in your eyes, walking with as much dignity as you could muster.
“(Y/N)—” he started, but you cut him off.
“Gotta follow my master,” you spat.
Chapter Seven
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