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morallyinept · 4 months

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A full character analysis on MARCUS MORENO from the film WE CAN BE HEROES.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to learn more about the character. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

FULL CHARACTER STUDY:

Basic Details:

Full Name: Marcus Moreno

Nickname(s): None noted

Appears in: We Can Be Heroes, 2020 (First heard on Missy's bracelet at approx. 03:21, first appearance seen on screen at approx. 03:23)

Age (if known): Unknown/not confirmed - assumned late 30's/early 40's

Nationality: American, not confirmed exactly from where, however the film was largely filmed in and around Austin, Texas, featuring a lot of familiar buildings and architecture from real life Austin, as favoured by the director.

Sexuality: Straight

Family: Daughter, Missy Moreno. Mother, Anita Moreno. Deceased wife, unnamed.

Spouse/Partner: Marcus is a widower. His wife died, presumably, when Missy was younger. Her name isn't revealed in the film, or how she passed away exactly.

Relationship Status: Single/widower - Marcus currently still wears his wedding band

Current Living Status: Alive

Languages Spoken: English/Spanish

Education: Not confirmed, however it would be prudent to assume Marcus has obtained high school/college education at least. Marcus is also leader of the Heroics, so assumed further education in training.

Occupation:

Job Role/Title: Single father/leader of the Heroics. His card that he swipes to get onto the transit to take him down into Heroic's HQ reads Special Agent.

Special Skill(s): Master swordsman with dual katanas, magnetic powers that enable him to keep a constant grip of his katanas. Marcus is able to fly with the aid of a device attached to his utility belt. Marcus also leaps really high into the pit of aliens. Marcus is also skilled in martial arts.

Notable Colleague(s): Miracle Guy, Shark Boy, Lava Girl, Anita Moreno

Marcus's ID swipe card briefly seen:

Distinguishing Features:

Tattoo(s): None

Piercings: None

Scar(s): None visible

Other Markings: Freckles on neck

Eye Colour: Brown

Prominent Feature(s): Moustache, wears glasses

Injuries: Marcus falls and crashes, lower back first, into an upturned car when his flying device is broken by the aliens, but he quickly regains composure and get's back up

Hair Colour: Brown

Personality:

Traits: loyal, brave, strong

Marcus' mother and Missy's grandmother, Anita Moreno, trains the Heroics. Her nickname is abuelita, which is Spanish for grandma. She has a secret training ground hidden in her garden and is presumed to have trained her son, Marcus, too.

Marcus is a widower, his wife died when Missy was much smaller, but it is not known the exact cause of her death. After her passing, Marcus made a promise to Missy not to do frontline battle alongside The Heroics anymore, and to remain working at Heroics HQ at his desk instead. He feels conflicted having to break his promise to Missy when the aliens invade and he has to suit up.

Marcus' wife wasn't a superhero with powers, she was human, however Anita tells Missy that she was the real strength behind Marcus, enabling him to be a great leader.

Although Marcus knows he is no match on his own, as the only Heroic left, against all the alien entities, he still tries as he tells Missy "a good leader leads by example."

Both Marcus and Missy's communication devices are engraved with MM which is their mutual initials.

Marcus' garden appears to have a swimming pool and what looks like a hammock. The kitchen is large with two TV's evidenced. His kitchen and garden have a lot of Spanish influences in the decor.

Fashion/Outfits:

Outfit 1 - (Opening scene in kitchen) Green round neck t-shirt, grey jeans, black rimmed spectacles, communication watch on left wrist

Outfit 2 - (Dropping off Missy scene/Heroics HQ scene) Light blue long sleeved shirt, dark blue silk tie, navy blue slacks, black belt, black shoes, black rimmed spectacles. Black leather jacket worn later at HQ

Outfit 3 - (Facing off against the aliens scene & remaining scenes) Black round neck t-shirt, black cargo pants, black steel toe-capped boots, black tac vest, black fingerless gloves, black elbow protectors, black belt with Heroics logo metal belt buckle

Accessories: Black rimmed spectacles, communication wrist watch device on left wrist engraved with MM his initials, wedding band on wedding ring finger, looks to be possibly platinum rather than gold, Marcus is able to fly with a device that seems attached to his utility belt.

Close up details of Marcus' costume:

Weapons Used:

Weapon(s): (Exact weapons pictured below)

Marcus has two, black handled and leather wrapped katanas (Japanese style fighting swords) which are mounted on a plaque at his desk in Heroics HQ. He can seemingly "call" them to him by opening his hand and they fly into his grip. It is debated whether he has a magnetic force that attracts them to his hands, or if he is psychically able to "call" them to him. However as it is never confirmed in the film, most assume the former.

He is a master swordsman and able to wield the katanas confidently and effectively.

Marcus is trained and skilled in martial arts and is in peak human condition to fight.

Modes of Transport:

Vehicle(s):

Marcus drives a dark silver/grey Toyota, which looks to be a Camry model. His car appears modified inside to tune into Heroics HQ via the dash computer.

Marcus flies using a flight device attached to his belt.

Dialogue:

🗨 See Marcus' full dialogue from the film, including deleted scenes.

Further Character Links (if any):

Marcus Moreno Fandom Wiki Page, Behind The Scenes: We Can Be Heroes, Pedro & Christian Slater interviewed by Guppy

Samples of Marcus' Wardrobe - Wrist watch info obtained via Styleofpascal IG

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO'S CHARACTERS ANALYSED

#marcus moreno #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno we can be heroes #we can be heroes #PPCU #pedro pascal character database #pedro pascal character study #pedro pascal character analysis #marcus moreno character analysis

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riordanness · 2 months

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he was sunshine - [w.solace]

wordcount: 1.1K

warnings: death mentions (sort of)

requested: no

My senses weren’t working properly. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see anything but darkness.

My touch senses were working fine, though. I could tell that I was lying on a bed, a blanket draped over me. The blanket felt kind of rough, but warm.

It was quiet. I couldn’t make out any distinct sounds. Either I was losing my ears, or I was all alone… wherever I was.

I blinked, and I could see again. Thank the gods. I glanced around, realising I was in the infirmary. Oh…

I hit my head. That was the last thing I could remember before my vision went dark. But, what was happening? Did Gaia actually rise? Was she defeated? Were my friends alive?

I had to find out. Ignoring the pain, I pushed myself up onto my elbows, sat upright, and threw the covers off. I was dressed in jean shorts and my camp T-shirt, what I always wore.

My sneakers were lying on the floor beside the bed, so I pulled them on. Spotting my weapons on the bedside cabinet, I grabbed them and slung them over my shoulders. Being a daughter of Demeter, I wasn’t usually picked out of a crowd to be a fighter, but I was wicked good with the bow. Good as some of the Apollo kids, even.

I ran a hand through my short, dark curls, trying to fix my bed hair. I got bad bed hair most nights, but other than that, my hair was pretty manageable. I didn’t usually have tie it back, given that it was only cut to just below my ears.

I left the cabin, and saw… no one. Usually, there would be tons of kids all around the cabins, playing basketball and chasing each other, heading to activities and playing pranks on other cabins. I couldn’t hear a thing. It was like the whole camp had vanished.

I searched the cabins, the Big House, the armoury, the dining pavilion, the strawberry fields, and the forges. The only place I could think of left was the amphitheater. Even before I reached it, though, I noticed a trial of smoke rising up from the middle of the amphitheater. That worried me. I hurried faster.

Just as I’d feared, it was a fire. The camp was burning somebody’s shroud. Or multiple somebody’s. As I entered the amphitheater, a couple of my cabin mates and friends waved at me. Anita, my half-sister, rushed over.

“You’re okay!” she whispered. “Oh, I’m so glad. You hit your head really hard. Will said you might not be up for a few days. Do you feel okay?”

Come to think of it, I felt awful, but I brushed it off as hunger or fatigue or something. I was totally fine!

I tried to smile. “Oh, yeah. I’m okay. Thanks. What happened? Was Gaia defeated?”

Anita’s face fell. “Uh, well… yes. But we lost some good friends.”

I bit my lip. “Who?”

“Samuel, Tracey, Olive, Nate, and… Leo Valdez.”

“Leo?” I gasped. “Oh no…”

Anita quickly told me the story: Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus, had bravely sacrificed his life to kill Gaia. He had died in a fiery explosion in the sky above camp.

I couldn’t speak. I’d gotten to know Leo pretty well over the months he’d spent working on the Argo II. He’d spent so many long hours and days busy working in Bunker 9, I’d made it my personal job to bring him food and water every day, and make sure he ate. During these little visits, we talked a lot. We’d become pretty good friends.

And now?

He was gone. I felt tears coming, but I tried to fight them down. “They were all too young,” I whispered. “This is all so unfair. I hate this dying business! Why can’t the gods just stop it and stop having poor kids who are targets for monsters?”

Anita looked at me sympathetically. “I know. It’s okay.” She took my hand. “Come on. You should sit down. Will Solace said you needed your rest.”

It was probably true. Will was the best medic I’d ever met. He knew what he was talking about. Besides, my head was starting to throb again, and I was feeling dizzy.

“Uh, yeah. Good idea,” I managed.

I sat with the rest of the Demeter cabin for the remainder of the funerals. The shrouds were burned, the proper things were said, but I was in a bit of a daze. I barely heard anything that was said.

It was so strange. It’d been the middle of the battle, Gaia had just risen up out of the earth and was trying to kill us all, Camp Half-Blood was surrounded by Romans and monsters, and everything had suddenly gone black on me.

I don’t know how I’d survived. I asked Anita, and she confirmed that Will Solace had found me unconscious and carried me off to the infirmary. For some reason, that made me blush.

I hadn’t thought much about the son of Apollo in my years at Camp. He’d always been around, even before I’d gotten here. He was always sunny and happy, always helping everyone, and always healing all of us silly demigods who got ourselves hurt.

My mind drifted. Back to my first year. My first time playing Capture-The-Flag. I’d been brutally beaten up by the Hunters of Artemis. My arm was cut up, my ankle was broken, and I’d gotten a concussion.

Will had refused to leave my side the entire time, even though he was only ten at the time, same age as me. He’d insisted on staying in the infirmary with me until I was well. I think I was the first person he’d ever healed properly, and on his own.

I was brought back to one particular occasion… I’d woken from a deep sleep, my ankle healing (which was slow even with the help of nectar and ambrosia), and found Will sleeping beside me. He was sitting on a chair, slumped forward with his head on his arms, his arms on the edge of my bed.

It took a bit of shuffling and fiddling, and a bit of pain, and a lot of grunts and hard work, but I finally managed to pull him up onto the bed with me. It was a pretty big one, a double bed size. I slid over to one side, spread half the blanket over Will, and snuggled down beside him.

I fell back asleep instantly, not even thinking about how weird this position would look in the morning when someone else came in to check on us. (Other campers, Chiron, and me and Will’s siblings checked on us regularly). I was just trying to do something nice for a friend, someone who was doing something nice for me.

I drifted off to sleep with Will’s breath on my hair.

#percy jackson #pjo #fanfiction #will solace #pjo x reader #will solace x reader #solangelo

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magicalbats · 6 months

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how do you get out of a bad writers block?? and what inspired u to get back into writing after ur hiatus?

Oof, I’m ngl that’s a bit of a difficult question for me to answer xmdkxkdnd for me at least, I wanted to write pretty much the entire time during my hiatus but I just couldn’t get my brain to function through the ✨ depression fog ✨ and even just opening up a word doc to force myself to write two sentences was extremely draining. My mental headspace just was not there. So what I did a lot of was read books.

I think I’ve read something like almost 60 books this year of different genres and topics - four out of five novels for the Court of Thorns and Roses series, Carrie by Stephen King, some old (really old xmxmdnd) Harlequin romance novels, a folk horror anthology, like six entries from the Anita Blake Vampire Hunter series, etc, etc - and that helped me get back into the mindset of creative thinking. I found inspiration in these works, ideas I wanted to explore, things that left me disappointed with their execution and wanting to do better, and I sort of relearned how to string a narrative together in the process. Then I started reading over some of my old WIPs. In some of them I saw real potential and was even occasionally surprised by my own writing abilities when juxtaposed against all those published novels I’ve read. I’d think to myself “oh, this actually isn’t half bad?” And that would make me want to finish that piece or rework it with things I’ve learned in the interim.

One of the very first things I wrote and completed was that Itto x reader x Gorou kinktober fic. I saw the prompt, had the inspiration and impulsively jotted everything down. When I was finished and I read it over I felt GOOD. Proud of myself for actually completing something from scratch. I thought “hey, maybe I could do another one of these” and then proceeded to write Scara’s (which I’m actually very proud of tbh cmdmxm) and from there it was really just a matter of keeping that momentum going. In particular I think writing them for myself at that point, thinking I might post them some day when I was feeling brave enough to come out of hiding and just enjoying the satisfaction of writing again in the meantime, was what really helped me find my confidence again. It kind of took some of the pressure off of having people perceive me and my work dmdmdmd and I was able to sort of let everything flow organically as a result without worrying about how terrible or messy it was. A lot of this was very spur of the moment and idk if it will actually help you anon but in my case these were the things that helped me kick my extremely uncooperative brain back into gear lol

So the TL;DR of it would probably be to read other stuff. Pay attention to what you like, what you don’t, what makes you excited, sad, horny, happy, grossed out, etc and basically expose yourself to different kinds of writing styles and topics. I’ve read some pretty terrible books over the last year and some amazing ones too, and each one taught me something, even if it was not to do a thing haha. When you revisit your own works approach it like it belongs to one of those other authors, look at it objectively and sort of remove yourself from the equation. I’d say a big part of getting over writers block is just tricking your brain out of it tbh. 🤣 Like I said idk if any of this is helpful but I believe in you, anon! I am cheering for you and I know we’ll get through this together!

#also I know buying books can get really expensive!!#but honestly my favorite thing to do is hit up different thrift stores in my area and buy books for like 50 cents a pop in some cases #I’ve found some really good stuff doing this and ofc some pretty bad too but overall I think it’s a really great way to expose yourself to #a wide variety of writing styles topics and settings without breaking the bank #I actually have a fairly impressive collection of V.C.Andrews novels just from buying them second hand xmdmdmd #currently reading Flowers in the Attic as we speak but it’s been slow going since I fell behind on kinktober orz

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thenerdybaker523 · 1 year

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Valentine's 2023

Written for @hayleyprompts Valentine's Day Prompt List

Prompt: “I think you have a secret admirer”

I don't own any gifs or pictures used in this.

I know Smolder by Laurell K. Hamilton is not out yet, but for this it will be.

Tag List(Let me know if you want to be tagged in future fics): @plentyoffandoms

Tanea ~ Rebel

❤️ Summary: Kelsea Paquette has been working as a makeup artist for the past 6 months thanks to her brother-in-law helping her get the job. The past month she's noticed things showing up at her station. Thinking it's Jon and Renee's doing, Kelsea thinks nothing of it. When she gets things that neither Jon nor Renee would know anything about, Britt points out it might be someone else doing it.

Kelsea’s POV:

After arriving at the arena with Jon and Renee, we all went our separate ways to get ready for the show. I headed to hair and makeup to get my station ready. Walking into the room, I noticed at the station marked with my name there was a mug of what I’m sure was my favorite hot chocolate and a gift bag. Setting my stuff down, I took a sip of the hot chocolate before opening the bag. Inside I found a Stitch stuffed animal, the second gift surprised me. It was a copy of the book Smolder by Laurell K. Hamilton, the newest book from her Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter series. I was so distracted by the book that I didn’t notice Britt, Jamie, and Tanea walk in until Jamie laid a hand on my shoulder to get my attention, making me jump.

“What did you get this time?” Jamie asked when she got my attention.

Looking up at Britt, Jamie, and Tanae, I showed them what I got. “I’m pretty sure that this isn’t Jon and Renee anymore. They know how much I love Stitch,” I said while pointing out my Stitch shirt. “But you guys are the only ones that know about this book series, and how I hadn’t had time to buy it from Amazon yet.”

“I think you have a secret admirer, Kelsea. It only makes sense. Someone must have overheard you talking to us about it last week.” Britt pointed out the obvious.

Thinking it over, I couldn’t help but agree with Britt. Though I didn’t want to say out loud who I’d hoped it was. “I just wonder who it could be. There’s not many people that would be brave enough to come near me knowing how protective Jon is of me.”

Tanea looked up at me from where she was setting out her equipment and said, “So that narrows it down to maybe five people that he’d be ok asking you out.”

Before I could say anything, Ruby walked into the room holding a small bag. “I got asked to give this to you.” She said, handing me the bag then went and sat at my station to get her makeup done.

Looking at her confused, I sat the bag down on my station. Opening it, I pulled out a Cookie Dough Twix candy bar (a/n: these are so freaking good) and a note. Setting the candy bar aside to eat later, I opened the note to read it.

Kelsea,

I know you must be wondering who I am. I’ve liked you for a while now, but just didn’t know how to approach you. Especially with Jon scaring off anyone who wanted to ask you out. Even though I know it wasn't necessary, a few weeks ago I got Jon and Renee’s approval to ask you out. Though before I asked you, I wanted to do something special for you, hence all the gifts. So I was wondering after tonight's taping of Rampage if you’d be willing to go on a date with me? If you want to, Ruby will let me know. If yes, I'll meet you at catering after the taping is done.

Your Secret Admirer

Looking up, Britt was holding her hand out to read the note. Handing it over, Britt read it with Tanea and Jamie reading over her shoulders. As they read it, I got started on Ruby’s makeup for the night. All three awed once they finished reading the note.

“So are you gonna say yes?” Jamie asked me as Britt put the note back in the bag. Looking up at Jamie, I started to think it over. Did I want to know who it was? Yes, but I didn’t want to get my hopes about it being who I wanted it to be and it not be them. Noticing four pairs of eyes on me, I took a breath and looked back down at Ruby.

“Yes, but can you give me a clue who it is?” I asked her.

“Nope, I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Sorry hun.” Ruby told me. I finished up her makeup as Britt and Jamie were getting ready to leave. As I was cleaning my brushes for the next person, I heard Britt and Jamie squeal. Shaking my head, I knew Ruby must have told them who it was. I didn’t have much time to think on my date between doing everyone’s makeup that needed it. After I was done, I went to catering to grab something light to eat and found a monitor to watch Dynamite on.

After Dynamite was over, I was heading back to hair and makeup when Renee stopped me. She handed me a bag before taking off again, not saying a word, but smiled back at me. Shaking my head, I looked in the bag and found a cute dress. Making a detour, I went to the women’s locker room and took a quick shower. Slipping on the dress and putting my shoes back on, I went back to hair and makeup. Noticing I had 15 minutes to meet the person, I quickly put my hair up and did some light makeup then packed up my stuff.

As I got to catering, Jon and Renee came up to me. Jon grabbed my makeup case while Renee looked me over. “We’ll see you in the morning. Have fun tonight.” Saying bye to them I sat in catering and messed around on my phone while I waited. I didn’t have to wait long before I heard a throat clear. I looked up to see the smiling face of Wheeler Yuta, the person I had hoped it would be.

“Hey Kelsea.” Wheeler said as he smiled down at me. Setting my phone down, I stood up and hugged him. Wrapping his arms around me, Wheeler held me tighter to him.

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up that it was you only to find out it was someone else, but I’m so happy it is you.” I mumbled into his chest. Pulling away, I knew I was blushing when I looked up at him.

“There’s a diner down the road, I figured we’d pick up something from there and head back to the hotel and watch a couple of movies. If that’s ok with you?” Wheeler asked. Nodding up at him, he took my hand and we headed out to the parking garage.

Getting to the diner, we ordered our food and while we waited we talked. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t even notice the waitress come back to our table with our to go bag. After Wheeler stopped me from paying for my half of the bill, he paid for our food and we headed back to the hotel. He led me to his room since mine was next to Jon and Renee’s. When he opened the door, I saw he had set his laptop out on his bed and had several of my favorite snacks set out on the nightstand.

“Why don’t you pick a movie while I get our food set out.” Wheeler told me. Nodding my head, I slipped off my shoes and sat on his bed, grabbing his laptop and brought up Netflix. Looking through the movies, I decided on Glass Onion. Wheeler handed me my food and settled down on the bed beside me. We talked while we ate and when we were done eating, we threw the containers away. I was starting to get uncomfortable in my dress, but I didn’t want to leave yet. Wheeler must have noticed because when he looked at me I could tell he was blushing.

“Did you want to borrow a pair of shorts and a shirt to change into?” he asked me nervously.

“Yes please. There’s a reason I don’t wear dresses that often.” he nodded, and went to grab the clothes from his suitcase. Wheeler looked down at me shyly as he handed me the clothes. Feeling brave, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Wheeler’s cheek. Knowing I was blushing, I grabbed the clothes from him and headed to the bathroom. As I was pulling on the shirt, I noticed he gave me one of his BCC shirts to wear. I finished getting dressed and quickly washed the makeup off my face then left the bathroom.

Putting my dress by my purse and shoes, I turned to see Wheeler had changed too. Joining him on the bed, he unpaused the movie, which we barely paid attention to. We ended up spending the whole movie talking and getting to know each other better. At some point Wheeler and I must have fallen asleep because I woke up the next morning curled into his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around me. Not wanting to wake him up, I tried to go back to sleep when I felt him loosen his arms and start to move around. Feeling him kiss my head, I looked up at his adorable sleep ridden face. We must have had the same idea because he leaned down and I met him in a sweet kiss. When we pulled away, I smiled up at him.

“Thank you for last night. I had a lot of fun.” I told him snuggling back into his chest.

Wheeler wrapped his arms tighter and kissed my head again. “I did too. I would love to do this again.”

“I’d love that. I hate to move, but I need to get back to my room before Jon comes and kills you.” Feeling him release me, I got out of his bed and started grabbing my things. Wheeler walked me to the door, but as I was getting ready to open the door, he stopped me by grabbing my hand. Looking up at him, I could tell he was nervous.

He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath before he spoke. “I was wondering if you would want to be my girlfriend? I know this was our first date, but we’ve known each other for a while…”

Before he could ramble anymore, I pulled him down and kissed him. When we pulled away, he was blushing. “I’d love to Wheeler.” He smiled down at me and kissed me again. This time when we pulled away, I knew I had to leave. Quickly checking the time on my phone, I saw it was only 8. “Do you want to meet down in the lobby in an hour and a half to go get breakfast?”

“I’d love to. See you then.”

With that I finally left his room and went back to mine. As I got to my room I noticed Britt, Jamie, and Renee all waiting for me. Shaking my head at them, I smiled and unlocked my room to let them in knowing I was about to be bombarded with questions. The first words out of Renee’s mouth was, “You didn’t come back last night, what did you and Wheeler get up to?”

Looking at them I couldn’t keep the smile off my face, “Well…”

#wheeler yuta fanfiction #aew fanfiction

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amillionmillionvoices · 2 years

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you know what I fucking miss so much sometimes? Steven Moffat era dialogue. Like. GodDAMN. I feel like so often writers are really good at the back and forth, the exposition and driving the plot forward parts of it that are very difficult and necessary! But sometimes fall short when it comes time to have A Moment™ and Moff for me (along with Sorkin, because obviously) just never fucking missed.

I clearly have Ted Lasso brain rn so I’m thinking a lot about Rebecca and the moments she gets to self reflect, but I feel like she wasn’t given the space necessary in dialogue to really make it punch? There’s that scene where she’s talking to John and says she has to be brave enough to let someone love her without fear of being safe, and the moment with her mother at the funeral and she says being alone has been necessary and wonderful, and those are good lines!! But there’s no BUILD. Like, even Roy’s speech about lightning gets build. Ted’s speeches always get build. There’s momentum to them so the lines they want to hit HIT HARD. But Rebecca doesn’t really get that? Like it almost feels like her lines were redacted?

Whereas with Moff (and yeah I realize I’m comparing two entirely different hyperfixations, shush), all of River’s speeches have SO MUCH MOMENTUM. He gives her so much TIME to make her point—like in TIA, in the tunnels with Rory, or in FOTD when she’s talking to Anita, or in TWORS or fucking THORS (don’t ever get me started on analyzing the dialogue in THORS because i will never recover) — all of them!!! Those speeches are so! Damn! Good!! And it’s not just the lines themselves it’s the PACING and the way they’re allowed to start so small —

You know when you see a photograph of someone you know, but it's from years before you knew them,

We start out with this sort of nonsequitur, an odd premise that doesn’t really make sense yet, but is still quite lovely,

and it's like they're not quite finished. They're not done yet.

Emphasis! Yes! A similar sentiment said twice to drive it home!

Well, yes, the Doctor's here. He came when I called, just like he always does.

Starting to connect, but not there yet. But also note the exposition buried in here! We get a hint of the past, not just a pretty line! Inverted syntax, too! Be still my beating vagina!

But not my Doctor. Now my Doctor,

Repetition, baby! GIVE IT TO ME!

I've seen whole armies turn and run away. And he'd just swagger off back to his Tardis and open the doors with a snap of his fingers.

Okay I could have done with one more line between these two, but I understand wanting to pair the image of horrible armies with the Doctor’s competence and attitude, so I’ll let it side. Plus, gimme those alternating long and short sentences! GIVE THEM TO ME.

The Doctor in the Tardis.

Gearing up! Here it comes!

Next stop, everywhere.

BOOM. GORGEOUS LINE. NAIL ON THE FUCKING HEAD. RIGHT IN YOUR HEART FEELS.

And this speech is short! Compared to her others! Compared to the Doctor’s, even! BUT IT WORKS because it BUILDS and crescendos like a piece of fucking music!!! And then the moment is immediately cut by the Doctor being an asshole — Spoilers! Nobody can open a Tardis by snapping their fingers. It doesn't work like that. — and River collecting herself — It does for the Doctor — I am the Doctor — and THEN THEN YOU GET THE END OF THE SPEECH

Yeah. Someday.

FUCK ME!!!!

I love his dialogue! So fucking much!!!!!!!! I want all my fav ladies to have dialogue like this because it’s so nuanced and adds so much and can you imagine what Hannah could do with fucking dialogue like that??? I would burn my own house to the ground.

#river song #steven moffat #rebecca welton #ted lasso #insert i just have a lot of feelings gif here

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themusicplayedherlife · 3 years

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Missy’s Lesson Plan

Lesson #1 Listen to Her Worries

pairing: marcus moreno x f!teacher!reader characters: f!reader, marcus word count: 3.6k+ warnings: fluff, awkwardness, bonding, summary: dating is hard; dating after losing a significant other is even harder, but Missy is sure she has a foolproof plan that will help her dad and her teacher finally confess their feelings and get the happily ever after that they deserve! a/n: sorry for the wait! since so many people liked it i wanted to make sure everything about this chapter was decent to post, so ya’ll have @forevans to thank or else this would’ve been stuck in limbo for a long time lol--also, im about to dub reader and marcus the thank-you-couple lmfao--you’ll see why

There are three things you are absolutely sure about in your life.

1. Your name. 2. You love your family. And 3. Missy Moreno is your favorite student.

“Turns out she was just testing us!” She moves around your classroom, picking up scraps of paper and throwing them into the black, durable trash bag she’s hauling around with her, recounting her heroic tale of saving her dad and the other Heroics with her new super powered friends. “A transfer of power or something. Can you believe it?”

Yes and no.

Your heart had literally jumped out of your throat and blood turned cold when Missy was plucked from school during recess—“taken somewhere safer,” the principal had informed you after you stormed into her office wanting to know where your student was and why you weren’t informed.

School was released an hour after that, a way to prepare citizens for the inevitable destruction the Heroics tend to cause in the heavily, populated metropolitan areas, and after making sure every single one of your students had been picked up by a family member, you hurriedly headed home.

You had sat yourself down in front of the television with your mom, worried for Mr. Moreno and the rest of the Heroics (more so for Missy’s dad), feeling completely and utterly helpless.

It only got worse when agents suited in black and white showed up at your doorstep, demanding to know where Missy Moreno and the other super powered children were hiding.

“You lost them?” You had balked—your worry rising to new heights—first Mr. Moreno and now Missy? You didn’t know what to do other than demand how a bunch of agents could have lost a group of untrained children during an alien invasion!

None of them answered you, remaining stoic, and if it weren’t for your mom, you would’ve pounced and clawed the closest agent out of desperation.

The agents only left after turning your house upside down in their search for the children.

And then, after hours of waiting, the news showed the Heroics, Anita Moreno, and the children landing in front of the White House, safe and sound. You almost cried from relief in your mother’s arms.

So, no, you can’t believe it; but seeing her here, this special girl, that has somehow worked her way into your heart from the moment she walked into your life, safe and sound in your classroom, you do believe it.

But you can’t tell Missy all of that when she’s practically bouncing on the heels of her feet, beaming up at you every few seconds to watch your reactions to her story. Instead, you widen your eyes for good measure and your mouth hangs open. It’s a little exaggerated, but you really are impressed with Missy—very much worried, but impressed. “Woah! I’m so proud of you!”

Her grin is so bright and proud, it makes you chuckle under your breath, your shoulders finally relaxing at the rare, childlike mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Are you going to write about it for your report?”

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

Now that stops you from sorting through the craft supplies, eyebrow raising in surprise. “Maybe?”

“It’s stupid,” she murmurs, focusing a little too much on one area.

“Missy,” you start, patient, “why do you think it’s stupid?”

“It’s just—” she shuffles on her feet and then sighs heavily, looking up at you with dark eyes full of doubt—“what if no one believes me?”

It takes you no time to close the distance between you. You coax the bag out of her hands and set it down on the floor, motioning for her to sit at the desk she had just been pretending to clean. “Why do you think no one would believe you?”

“Because I don’t have super powers.” Her nose wrinkles, looking away from you and to the whiteboard.

“Missy…”

“I know, I know!” she exasperates, having heard this spiel from you many times before. “It doesn’t matter, it’s never mattered, I get it!” You stare at her incredulously, and she is quick to assure you, leaning forward on the edge of the chair. “I do, really! But I—it would be useful, you know?” She slumps back, finger rubbing at a spot on the table. “Proof, I guess.”

“Powers could always be useful,” you agree with a soft laugh. “But not always necessary.” She still doesn’t look at you, and you sigh softly, a small amused smile forming on your lips. “I know you know some of the most amazing, most brave people are the ones without powers.”

She looks up at you, head tilting and waiting for you to elaborate.

“You once told me that aside from your dad, your mom was your absolute favorite hero, remember that?”

She nods, a smile finally appearing on her cherubic face.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Missy.” You crouch down to her level. “You not having powers doesn’t mean the rest of the class won’t believe you. They know you’re a leader, they look to you not just because you’re Marcus Moreno’s kid but because they believe in you.”

“I knew it was stupid,” she murmurs bashfully, tanned skin brightening as she huffs and folds her arms over her chest.

“Hey, no, none of that. Having doubts or being scared or even jealous is never stupid. It’s perfectly human,” you assure her, her brown eyes searching yours. “In fact, I sometimes feel that way too!”

“Really?” She drops her arms and her pout softens. “You?”

“Of course! Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes doubt myself or feel a little insecure.”

“Like what?” she asks, dark eyes curious and wide.

“Oof, a lot!” Your eyes roll to the ceiling as you think. “I think… one of my biggest doubts and fears is not being a good enough teacher.”

“What?” She gasps, jumping in her seat and eyes narrowing with scary determination to get you to believe that: “You’re an amazing teacher!”

Warmth fills your chest at the sincerity in her voice and eyes. “See!” You cross your arms over your knees, but Missy takes your hand in hers, and you let her, squeezing her smaller hand in yours. “Sometimes, we don’t see ourselves in the same light as others do, and that’s okay. We just need a little reminder every once in a while.”

“Yeah,” she drawls, playing with one of your fingers, “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” You nudge her nose gently with a hooked finger and she wrinkles her nose in response. “And this is my reminder for you today: I truly believe you’re capable of doing extraordinary things, Missy. Powers or no powers.”

She grins, nudging your nose just as you had. “And I truly believe you’re the most amazing teacher ever.”

Yeah. Missy Moreno is definitely your favorite student.

“I know.” You ruffle her hair and she grabs your wrist to push you away, laughing.

A loud thud by the entrance of the class brings you to your feet, spinning in place and firmly placing yourself in front of Missy and the sudden intruder—only to find a sheepish Marcus Moreno mid trip and hand raised sheepishly.

“I—ah—sorry, I was going to knock, but the door was opened—” he says, quickly crouching down to pick up the empty rack you set up for the kids to place their backpacks and lunch on. “Sorry.”

Missy lets out an exasperated, “Dad!” while your form relaxes (replaced by a new tension squeezing your chest).

Clearing his throat, he straightens up, raising a hand in greeting and an apology. “Sorry,” he murmurs again.

“It’s fine, Mr. Moreno.” You offer him a warm smile, ignoring the little butterflies in your tummy. Turning to Missy, you catch a very much exasperated eye roll that only makes you stifle your laughter behind your hand. “Come on, Missy, get your things.”

She eyes her dad for a moment longer before nodding and hurrying to her table shared with Karina at the front of the classroom, a table away from your desk.

“Thanks for letting Missy stay.” He scratches the back of his head, his other hand resting on his hip as he shifts his weight. “Paperwork took me longer than I would have liked.”

“A hero’s work is never done, huh?” you joke, keeping your voice light.

He cracks a charming smile, the one that always seems to melt your insides into a pile of goo. “Unfortunately.”

Your eyes move to Missy, who is slowly putting her things away, organizing them and reorganizing. Her head tilts slightly when the conversation between you and Marcus pauses, dark eyes trying to inconspicuously look over her shoulder to get a glimpse of you and her father. Her eyes catch yours and widen in surprise before she snaps her head forward, pretending to be busy but not hurrying her movements, either—much to your amusement. What is she doing?

Shaking your head and returning your gaze to Marcus, you’re met by brown eyes full of exasperated fondness, an apologetic smile on his handsome features.

“I heard about what happened,” he suddenly says. “About some of our agents raiding your home.”

“Oh!” You blink owlishly, embarrassment crawling under your skin—what else did he know? “You heard about that?”

“Read about it in the report, actually.” He tilts his head, scratching the stubble on his cheek, and you press your lips together to keep from questioning what else he read in case they didn’t add the part about you losing your cool. “I have agents on their way to help clean up any mess they might’ve made and to replace anything they might’ve broken.”

This man is truly a god sent, isn’t he? “Mr. Moreno, I appreciate it, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he assures you, firm and kind. “It’s our fault you got caught in the cross hairs.” His eyes fall away from yours, and again, he shifts his weight on his feet as he pushes his glasses back up over the bridge of his nose.

You wait for a moment, but when he doesn’t look back up at you, you let out a little defeated sigh, disappointed that the conversation is over. Not that you want to keep talking about agents ruining your home, but you like listening to Mr. Moreno speak. He has the softest, most reassuring voice that makes you feel safe in his presence; like he trusts you.

“Well, again, thank you,” you start as you make your way over to the plastic bin full of craft supplies on your desk and are about to take them to the closet you store them in when warm fingers brush against yours, taking the box from your hands. “Oh!”

“Let me help you with that,” he says, soft and rich, warm eyes full of kindness staring into yours.

“Thank you,” you murmur—and he’s close, not like when he was sitting across from you as you introduced yourself to him and showed him the first progress report of the year, but close enough that you can see the glints of black and umber in his eyes, tips of his shoes barely touching yours, and a small box keeping your chests from brushing against each other.

“It’s no trouble. Least I could do.” He flashes another smile, and again, your heart melts and you have to physically keep yourself from biting your lips by swiping your twitching fingers over your mouth, eyes darting away from him.

Clearing your throat, you say, “Let me show you where I need them.”

He nods and follows after you, keeping a fair distance even after you point at the empty space the bin was in earlier that day.

“Thank you,” you say—again! all you do is thank the man!—as he puts away the bin and closes the closet doors for you.

“Of course.”

“Okay, I’m finally ready!” Missy announces, a little too loud for it to not to be intentional.

“We should start heading out, then.” His hand settles on Missy’s head, steering her towards the door. “Again, thank you for letting Missy stay—really saved me.”

“It was no trouble at all.” You wave him away, following after them to walk them out.

“That was painful to watch,” you swear you hear her whisper to her dad, and he shushes her.

Did you imagine it?

“Ah, actually, Mr. Moreno, may I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course!” He pats Missy’s shoulder. “Go on ahead, I’ll meet you down the hall.”

She narrows her eyes at him, as if trying to communicate something to him before nodding and walking off. “See you Monday, teach!”

“Bye, Missy! Have a good weekend!” You wait until she’s completely out of ear shot, or at least on the other side of the hall to address your worries to Mr. Moreno. “Missy told me about what happened on that spaceship and I—I’m worried. I know what Missy is capable of, trust me, I know. She’s—extraordinary. A good kid.” You bite your lip, wrapping your cardigan tighter around your frame, the cold wind brushing against your exposed skin. “But I—I can’t help but worry either way. I know it’s not my place—”

“No, no!” He steps forward and a little to the side, blocking the wind from hitting you. “Thank you for caring so much about Missy. I—I always feel grateful knowing you care about her and that she’s in capable hands at school.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, a huge weight off your shoulder now that you know you’re not stepping on his toes.

“I’m worried too, if I’m being honest.” His eyes slide to Missy waiting for him at the end of the hall where she’s rocking on her feet, and you follow his gaze, both of you smiling when she glances up and waves. “She’s headstrong. Once her mind is made up, you can’t stop her.” He chuckles, the sound low and a little self-deprecating.

“I would never ask you to change her mind,” you affirm gently. “All I ask, is that you look after her—not that you don’t already do, because I know you do, but it’s… different out there.”

He nods resolutely. “I promise.”

“You need to stay safe out there, too, Mr. Moreno. I can’t keep having two heart attacks in one day,” you tease, leaning against the metal doorframe.

“I promise you, we’ll stay safe,” he says it so seriously, eyes locked on yours that it practically steals your breath away. “Missy and I—we’ll protect each other.”

“Like you always do,” you hum into the space between you.

“Like we always do,” he reaffirms, just as soft.

“Good.” You stare at one another for a beat longer than necessary, but you look away first, straightening up. “Have a good evening, Mr. Moreno. Drive safe.”

“You too.”

You watch him walk away, waving each time he looks back until he reaches Missy. They wrap an arm around each other and with one final wave, they disappear into the stairwell.

Smiling, you head back inside to get your things.

“So,” Missy starts as they climb down the stairs, “did you ask?”

“No.” He sighs, bracing himself for the ten year old judgement (he can’t wait to see what her pre-teen and teenage judgement looks like, probably even more brutal).

“What?” She pulls away from him as they reach the final step. “No? What do you mean ‘no’? That was the perfect timing!”

He knows it was perfect timing! There were many perfect moments that he could’ve asked if you were doing anything this Saturday, but no! He just had to get distracted by the curves of your lashes and the way your eyes glinted under the setting sun and how your nose wrinkled when the cold air kissed your nose and—“Next time.”

“A deal is a deal, dad!” She reminds him, staring up at him with those eyes that used to remind him so much of her mother, but now they’re becoming less and less like hers and more her own. “You said you would!”

“I know, I know,” he whines in mock defeat. “I just… what if she doesn’t like me?” It’s a legitimate worry, one that has only grown since Missy started encouraging him to ask you out.

“Seriously, dad?” Her hand connects with her forehead. “It’s so obvious! And besides, how will you ever know if you don’t ask?”

“I guess you’re right. Any ideas?”

She cups her chin, thinking. Her eyes brighten. “I do have a plan!”

“And what exactly is this plan?” he asks, a little wary of what his precocious ten year old could possibly come up with.

“Just trust me!” She grins up at him and wraps her arm around his waist, tugging him along with her towards the car. “With my plan we’ll win her over completely!”

#Marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal character #reader #reader insert

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pennyserenade · 3 years

Text

TINY DANCER

tags: javier peña x female oc, javier peña, rockstar!au, fluff rating: t ( teen ) (for now) warnings: language, alcohol word count: 1.6k+ summary: a band of young men from laredo, texas are on the verge of rock’n’roll stardom and anita rodríguez is the woman who follows them into it. a story of rock’n’roll and all the fluff that follows notes: this is very self indulgent and heavily inspired by the movie almost famous, as well as whatever fleetwood mac had going on, and the book daisy jones & the six. as you can tell, this is a genre of fiction i favor heavily, and i’m more than happy to make this everyone’s problem. thank you for baring with me

Summer time has never tasted so sweet on the tongues of these impassioned young men from Laredo, Texas, she bets. Perspiration covers their foreheads as they stand under the much too bright colored lights, and the crowd before them cheers them on with an eagerness that belongs only to those who really loved music. And they respond like men who really love music—all smiles and grins and heavy panting from giving their young bodies away to it. One might even say their souls.

Even from behind the curtain, she can feel the wave of electricity that rolls off of them. It is a beautiful thing to hear after suffering under the heavy blanket of Texas heat for her own performance.

They had liked her alright, responded about as warmly as they could for an opening act they hadn’t really known, but they turn these young men into Gods. She feels it tight in her stomach, that everlasting and endless excitement reserved for falling in love, not with people, but with moments. Even if it’s all for not, this little musical and spiritual journey she has partaken on, she will at least have been there for the moment these men had exhaled themselves into true and complete stardom.

Not bad for a band called El Fuego, she thinks.

“My God they’re something, aren’t they, Anita?”

Her sister holds aside the curtain to make room for herself. “The one in the really tight jeans was talking to me during your performance. He’s beautiful, I swear it. Just godly.”

Anita smiles. “You can’t fall in love with rockstars, baby sister, it’s unethical and impractical. Have your years with me taught you nothing?”

“Yeah, but those rockstars were a dime of dozen and tight jeans looks like sex out there,” she whines. Anita scans over the men, trying to decipher whom she might mean. That’s when she catches Tight Jeans’ eyes. She gives him a grin and without missing a beat, he gives her a charming wink. A wink reserved for a man on top of the world.

“What’s his name?” Anita asks.

“Javier Peña,” she responds. “He’s just gorgeous isn’t he? They all are.”

All Anita can do is grin as she continues to watch the rest of their performance.

****

This isn’t her first rodeo. This isn’t even her second or third or fourth. In fact, she’s lost track of the times she’s been led back to hotel rooms with a slew of people she doesn’t know, swept dangerously up in the shared euphoria that is the after show comedown.

In her hand she holds her second drink of the night. It’s a concoction she’d mixed for herself, made up of too much juice and too much alcohol, but she deserves it, she reckons. She’s opened for a damn good band and she’s a pretty damn good singer most of the time, and that Javier guy has been looking at her all night, despite the group of women that surround him. He has a good way of being present with them and present with her, too, genuine grins and attention for all to spare. Like the charming and humble lead guitarist he is, he strums idly at an acoustic guitar while he speaks with the women.

She’s been standing in the same place for too long, drinking the same second drink, listening to the beginning of songs he starts before he falters off into the next one. Even over the light hum of chatter and the radio nearby, she can focus on him. She watches his fingers as they strum—watches the way he doesn’t need to look down at them to keep them steady and trained. He’s a professional musician, through and through, even if he may just be some guy from Laredo to most individuals in the world. His manager had been so brave to wager that they were going to hit nationwide success by next week when one of their songs got radio air. She asked if she could keep opening for them, when they got big. All he did was grin. She likes to think it’s a yes.

“Hello.”

Coming back to earth, Anita finds Tight Pants in front of her. Not starling close, but enough to elicit something ghastly in her.

He smells of leather and good cigarettes, and her baby sister was right, he does look like sex. He’s all lean muscle, and though the perspiration has gone from his forehead, she bets if he were to lean in close and press his lips to hers, she might be tempted to taste the residue of it in what would become haste and passionate kissing.

“Hello,” she responds.

“I’m Javi, from Laredo.”

He extends his rather large hand for her to take, and she does. She wonders if this is the approach he uses with a lot of women. He’s good looking enough to be dangerous, but then again, she’s smart enough to understand where the line between fun and serious ends and begins with these men. She’s a rockstar too, privy to sex and drugs just like the lot of them, even if she is just a one man band.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a firm shake. “Anita,” she says, then inspired by the liquid courage in her, she adds, “From somewhere warm, but hopefully headed some place better.”

He gives her a laugh and she finds that unfortunately, it’s the sort that makes one’s own lips tug upwards.

“You sounded good tonight. Did you write that song?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You sounded good too. I mean, you probably know that already, but.” She smiles. “Who writes for you?”

“Graham.”

“Graham’s the...”

“Lead singer. Dirty blonde over there talking to your—“ He looks at her. “Sister?”

She nods. “Yeah. She said she had talked to you earlier.”

“Yeah. We talked about your someplace warm. California, is it?”

“Cali indeed.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Well, Javi, I’m sure you’re about to.”

His dimple appears for her. He looks at her like she wishes he wouldn’t, because it makes her badly want to stick to his side for the rest of the night. And on his lips.

Even more unfortunate for her, he rummages in his pockets and pulls out a packet of those good cigarettes that make up his aroma. He opens it and takes one out for himself, sticking it between his lips, before offering her one.

“You smoke?”

She takes one. “Sometimes,” she nods. “Are we allowed to, in here?”

Javi shrugs his shoulders as he lights his. “Dunno,” he responds. She leans forward so he can light hers too. “Suppose we should go sit on the balcony on the off chance that this is the one hotel in America that doesn’t allow it?”

****

“You know Me and Bobby McGee, Laredo?” she nods down to his guitar.

The air outside is just cool enough to be comfortable in, so, despite that their cigarettes have long been stamped out and the party inside awaits them, they stay on the patio, rooted to the furniture. He hasn’t made any moves on her, a fact which takes her by surprise, and so they’ve lulled into a comfortable ebb and flow of natural conversation.

He tweaks his fingers on the neck of the guitar before he begins to strum the strings of it . His hair, overgrown in a way that suits a man of his occupation, cascades over his forehead as his brow becomes pinched from focus. In an instant, from his fingers comes the tune of her desire. He looks up at her, grinning, once he gets into the flow of it.

“¿Hablas español?” he asks, over his guitar.

“Un poquito, but not much,” she tells him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he dismisses, “Can you sing Me and Bobby McGee?”

“Sí.”

He laughs. “Well, put on a show then.”

***

She sobers up halfway between the sun tucking itself into the sky and the sun peeking back out from the horizon, but she can’t remember when. They’d played a lot of songs and her throat feels hoarse, but she can’t recall any one song that had felt particularly clear. It all sort of blended together up until this moment.

Javi lays, back rested against the chair, looking tired. His guitar now rests beside him, quiet, and he stares out at the city below them.

There’s a soft hum of normal people doing normal things below them; the horn of an eager taxi driver, the breaks of a bus, the chatter of patrons going in and out of the hotel.

They sit in the comfort of this city’s morning routine while she smokes his last good cigarette. “I was never much for staying up all night,” she tells him, passing it over to him.

He takes it between his lips and nods. “I was never much for sleeping all night.”

“And why’s that?”

He shrugs, exhaling the smoke. “Don’t know. Sometimes the past haunts me, sometimes it’s just too fuckin’ hot, sometimes it’s the company.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I must admit, I didn't peg you as the get-to-know-me-in-the-early-morning type. Thought you’d be content just charming me with your guitar for the rest of eternity.”

“Well,” he passes the cigarette back to her, pushing his digits against her own in the process. “I’m not, really, but we’ve talked about our favorite songs all night and you’re our opener for the rest of this tour, so why not?”

She takes a drag off the cigarette. “I’m not the opener for the rest of the tour.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” she shakes her head. “This was a favor, I think. A very kind one.”

He looks out in front of him, falling into silence. Thinking. Then he says, “I think I’m in the position to call in some favors right now if you’d liked to be. The opener, I mean.”

She lets the smoke out from the side of her mouth, which has risen up into a wide grin. “Javier from Laredo, I think I could kiss you right now.”

He takes the cigarette back from her fingers, offering her his own grin. “I think I’d like that,” Javi says, tone soft. Genuine.

She swings her legs over the side of her lawn chair, and holds herself up just far enough to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He turns though, not entirely on purpose, she thinks, and their noses brush against one another. She rises from her seat when he leans down and fills the space between them, resting against his own chair as his lips move against her own.

No tongue, though. He pulls back after a few seconds, brown eyes full of warmth. She’s surprised by the amount of control he has over himself. Surprised that he wants to use it, too.

“I better go check on my sister,” she breathes out, resting her hand over his chest.

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll see you in the next city, Anita.”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

“Look for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she promises.

She likes this man and his tight jeans, she’s decided. Likes him a lot.

EVERYTHING : @astroboots , @frannyzooey , @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @honestly-shite , @over300books , @elegantduckturtle, @pbeatriz , @pretty-brown-eyess , @brcwneyes , @chronic-nosebleed

JAVI : @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @walt-breslin , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare , @p3dr0pasca1lov3r247

TINY DANCER : @itssmashedavo (just because i thought this might interest you)

#javier peña x female oc #javier pena x female oc #narocs fic #narcos #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javier peña #javier pena

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lovelycheollie · 3 years

Text

Back Home

“I believe that all of our lives we’re looking for home and if we’re really lucky, we find it in someone’s loving arms. I think that’ what life is-coming home.” –Anita Krizzan

Words: 2512

Hi there! It’s been years, and I’ve been attracted to embrace my Carat side again! I hope everyone’s doing fine, despite of the pandemic we’re experiencing right now. I decided to create a Vernon fic for the reason that I missed my mutuals, especially @chillihansol ((she’s still a Vernon stan how constant I am jelly!)) I hope you guys enjoy this read! My ask is always open for requests

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled to yourself, staring at the white cyber abyss in front of you. The laptop screen showed nothing but a blank document, a pile of notebooks unevenly stacked to your right. Your chin rested on the top of your palm while you tried your best to think of something that may make you start on your assignment. So much on learning online, you could only rely on yourself and on the urge of just simply finishing and passing whatever needs to be submitted.

It was early in the morning, and supposedly you were to have a hearty breakfast while thinking of ways to somehow cope with the academic stress you were feeling. Even if you were stuck inside your room, you at least knew how to have fun despite being by yourself, may it be simply listening to your favorite song, or cook something easy. While you strolled towards the kitchen, you heard your phone ring and you were being summoned to an online meeting with your classmates. Your to-do checklist was filled again with some assignments meant to be passed on the next day. Staring at the list alone removed the motivation in you to work on your pancakes, and the weather outside could only join you in your tired state.

So there you were, sitting on the office chair and struggling to find the single word that will push you forward to work on your assignment. No word you’ve thought is good enough for the first sentence. Oh how much you’ve hated going through a writer’s block. Deep inside, you just wanted to cram on the homework and sleep your troubles away, but then again, you just really wanted to get rid of everything and just relax without worrying.

As you decided to brew another cup of coffee, someone knocked on your door, which almost caused you to drop your favorite mug onto the floor. You dragged your feet towards the doorway, eyebrows knitted together and eyes ready to glare on whoever was brave enough to bother you early in the morning. But as soon as you saw Vernon flashing a toothy grin, the eyebrows separated, the glare turned into a loving pair of eyes, and your feelings were everywhere. After months of not seeing each other, Vernon was in the flesh, and was already making your morning better.

“’Sup Y/N,” he said, placing his face mask in his bag and removing his white sneakers. You took the time to gawk at his pink sweater and jeans, while still being mentally at awe at his sudden presence. You heard him chuckle a bit as he welcomed himself in the room. “What’s the mug for?”

You rose the mug near to your face, stepping away from the door. “Ah, well, I was brewing coffee. I wasn’t really expecting a visitor, let alone your face.”

“Kind of mean, but I understand.” He lifted the messenger bag and showed you the contents. He had store-bought meat buns, bottled coffee and milk tea, some chips and biscuits stacked inside the bag. Vernon showed another smile which made your heart throb a bit. “I figured you would be stressed today, so I brought the good stuff.”

“How did you even ‘figure out’?”

“You tweeted last night, and you know me. If practice is over then I do the second best thing.”

“Which is?”

“I check your tweets because I’m such a great friend,” he replied to you as he found himself sitting on a bean bag. Vernon placed the goods on the coffee table and stood up again, joining you in the kitchen to get some glasses and plates. He was always like this in your room; he felt like he was at home, especially when he was with you.

Placing the plates on the table, he proceeded to fill the glasses with the coffee and tea, then looked at you and patted the bean bag next to him. You could only roll your eyes while removing the ice tray from the fridge. As you sat beside him, he dug his teeth on the meat buns and let out a satisfactory hum. He found himself at peace, with you alone, and with some convenience store goods. But before you could even copy him, you remembered you had an assignment to start on. The pain of standing up again to grab your laptop was bothersome, and the temptation to relax has strengthened itself.

While chewing on a hearty bite, Vernon took a short glance on the empty online document, then to your struggling fingers, then back to the screen again. He could tell that you were just not having it, the motivation in you to study was missing. Remembering on how he welcomed himself inside, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. “I can see you’re pretty busy. Did I come at the wrong time?”

“What? Oh no, it’s okay! You actually came at a good time,” you tucked your hair behind your ear, his sight fixated on your fingertips. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally typed some words on the keyboard. “I just needed a small push to start on this one.”

“How many assignments do you have?”

“I got two, plus this one, so three,” you stopped and looked at him, seeing a bit of sauce on the side of his lips. With your motherly instinct, you wiped the sauce off with your thumb and then wiped it on a tissue paper. Before it could even sink in your thoughts as you continued to type, Vernon was flabbergasted. Yes, he knew you were a bit motherly to your friends, but he wasn’t aware that you had the gull to touch someone else’s face. He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he was just trying his best not to let you know how your simple gesture made him feel giddy. The troubles of having a crush on a friend was very much real for this man.

Despite being busy on working as an idol, Vernon would always find time to be with you, as the two of you were close friends. He despised the thought of only being friends with you until the two of you reached adulthood, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t let the two of you stay as friends. But then, even if he finds himself in the perfect situation, the courage to muster up the feelings and confess to you was still a hard mission for him to do. Simply put, he was just crushing on you so badly.

And so, the feelings were put in the lyrics he would sing. They would be seen in the steps he would do onstage. You weren’t that naïve; you can feel that Vernon was signaling something to you. However, you didn’t want to simply assume that this charismatic friend of yours was trying to be more than friends. Hence, you and Vernon are still friends, up to this day.

“Do you want me to help you?” he stammered while trying to act as normal as he can, which you could see, was failing. Seeing him like that, you were starting to feel jittery as well. Your fingers kept pressing backspace from the typing mistakes. The two of you were now facing the same dilemma: how to act properly beside the person you’ve been liking for months.

You cleared your throat and sipped from your glass. Opening the packet of biscuits, you munched on a piece and continued on your homework. “No, I’m okay. I know you’ve been busy, so you should just relax and let me do my own thing.”

“Are you sure Y/N? You know I could help you.”

“Yes, I’m definitely sure. And what you should be doing is resting because I know you’d be pretty busy by tomorrow.”

Then it became silent, with only the rustling of the plastic bags and your fingers typing making the noise. Vernon continued to slip a glance on your work from time to time, and you just did whatever you were doing, despite feeling the heavy weight of his glare. Sometimes, you would catch him looking at you, and he would just give you a goofy grin, and that would be enough for you to punch him lightly on his arms.

As you were reaching the final paragraph of your paper, you felt the urge of chewing something. The last piece of biscuit was across the table, and sadly, you couldn’t rely on your own to reach it. Luckily, beside you was Vernon who had long, slender arms, who busied himself with his mobile games. It was time for you to have him do something.

“Hey Vernon?” you said, eyes glued once again to the monitor.

Vernon paused his game and turned his head to you. “Yeah?”

“Can you pass me the last biscuit? I can’t reach it,” you spoke charmingly, giggling in your head. You were expecting that the biscuit would be placed nearer to you, but your friend wanted revenge to what you did earlier.

Vernon opened the packet and positioned the biscuit in front of your lips. For him, he was doing it simply to lessen your troubles, but to you, it was making you crazy.

“Here you go Y/N,” he spoke, placing the thin, chocolate-flavored biscuit on your lips and licking the rest of the crumbs on his thumb. You were staring with wide eyes as he did so, and when he noticed your surprised look, the thought of his actions hit him on the face. Right now, the two of you were a blushing mess. Panicking for your life, you hurried into finishing the last paragraph of your assignment. There were less mistakes this time as you typed, which felt as an accomplishment to you. You couldn’t dare to look at Vernon with your reddened state, which made you to focus more on your paper.

“Hey Y/N,” he finally spoke as you saved the file. Vernon was simply waiting for your response, sitting beside you while you swallowed your feelings and shut your laptop off. He sat on his knees, eyes staring at you which took you aback. Vernon was serious, and you felt a pang of nervousness to whatever he was thinking. You settled the laptop on the table, and just sat there, thinking of what to say to ease the atmosphere somehow.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Why are we so awkward?” he mumbled, and you made a small laughter as soon as you heard him. Your laughter was music to his ears, and it quickly perked him back to his normal self again.

“I don’t know about you, all I wanted was for you to reach the biscuit, not feed it to me, you dork!”

“You did it first! You wiped the sauce from the corner of my lips!”

You could only blush more while making up words for your rebuttal. “It was my motherly instinct! You did not have to take your revenge on me!”

And while you continued on, Vernon was simply looking at you, adoring your flushed cheeks in the morning light. In his head, you were pretty, even if your face was red, even if you were chatty and embarrassed. His heart was full of you, he knew that he likes you that much. A tiny smirk grew on his lips, which turned into a large smile. Surrendering in defeat, you turned to the other side, bit your lips into one straight line and planted the thought of him smiling at you in the center of your mind.

“Why did you have to be so charming?” you whispered to yourself, making sure that you were the only one who could hear it. You were mistaken though, as Vernon heard it, and kept the butterflies in his stomach.

Vernon’s ringtone broke the silence, and with quaking hands, he answered the call. While he was talking with the caller, you took a piece of paper and wrote something simple on it. Quietly, you sneaked the paper inside his bag, and laughed at yourself. You imagine a laughing Vernon in the middle of the street, with the paper in between his fingers.

“Y/N, our manager called. He said he wanted to meet us all in the dorm,” he told you while fixing his bag and checking his belongings inside. He had a gloomy look imprinted on his face, and you were affected by the sudden news as well. Vernon was going to leave so soon, and it will take a while again to see him and bond with him. “He wants to meet us right now. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re an idol! You’ll be busy at times and it’s okay! I understand!” you showed a sad smile, which made Vernon ache for a hug with you.

“Don’t you worry! After the meeting, I��ll come back immediately! Lunch will be my treat!” Vernon replied with another grin, lifting his arms to pat you on the head. The two of you walked to the door, and you can’t help but become a little bit greedy to him. Deep inside, you wished that he didn’t have to leave, and that you would spend the whole day with him.

After putting the mask on, he stood up, looking at you once more and poking your head. “Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll be back soon enough!”

You braved yourself to hug him, which startled him a bit. He then hugged you back, his warmth seeping on his clothes to your skin, and his arms tightly wrapped around you. The moment was short-lived, as you backed away from him and returned the smile he’s been giving you. “You better take care of yourself Vernon!”

He opened the door and stayed outside, still holding on to your warmth. Head turning, you were there behind him, in your favorite loungewear, waiting for him to continue ahead. To him, you were the epitome of a home, and he knows that no matter what would happen, he would always come back to you. In the busiest day, or in the darkest night, he would always think of you. You are his home.

While walking along the street, Vernon checked the contents of his bag. He would often check the insides of his bag when he was already outside, a perk he does to secure that he has everything with him. At the bottom corner of the bag, there was a folded paper. He knew the note was yours, as he remembered that you had a small habit of leaving memos in your friend’s belongings. As he opened the note, he found himself running back to your home, knocking on your door and locking you in his arms, embracing you with all of his heart. Vernon thanked his stars, and this stressful morning, as he realized his worries were answered with your sincerity and with your own feelings as well.

“Vernon, even if you run away, always come back home. I love you.”

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booasaur · 1 year

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Perry Mason (2020) - 2x01

#perrymasonedit #perry mason hbo #della street #anita st. pierre #juliet rylance #jen tullock #perry mason hbo 2x01 #anita x della #femslash related stuff #goshhhh #that they're joking about getting arrested for silly things #and then have to turn away in case someone observes them flirting #and how FORWARD anita is about this all #so brave #both in following her gaydar and then just being that open #I guess if you hardly ever find anybody you grab the chances you can :o

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starssabi · 4 years

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fandom: Apex Legends (video game)

pairing: Revenant / Reader (m/f)

ao3 link

note: Yes, I am disgusting. Yes, I enjoyed writing this. Yes, there may be more like this in the future. This is NOT non-con but it can be taken as dub-con if you'd like. Please be aware of that! The reader is totally into it, she's just a brat. Sorry Loba, we’re fucking the murder bot.

warnings: light sadism, threats of violence (barely), semi-public smut, fear-play if you squint, mild dubious consent.

summary: You and Revenant have had some tension for some time now, and you both have come to enjoy teasing and sassing one-another. It all comes to a head during a match, and you become stuck quite literally between a rock and a hard place.

this should go without saying, but this is written for those 18+.

oneshot: Brat

Skinsuits. He hated every single one of them.

Part of you suspected there may be more to it, maybe he wasn’t just a pissed-off murder robot, as Elliott would call him. From the times that you had been paired up together in both trios and duos, he had been nothing short of an asshole. That was to be expected with the robot that everyone had come to hate, and when Loba showed up, the hatred only grew in number and felt amplified.

You wished you could hate him. You knew he was cruel, that he was a murderer and no doubt a sadist as well; someone who clearly got off on hurting others and toying with them. The words he uttered when his victim met their end gave that away. You were the only one who met his rude comments with sarcastic, or equally rude remarks.

Anita did so sometimes, too. As did Octavio, though, for some reason, it was you that caught his attention. He wouldn’t thank you after you tossed him a weapon? Did I ask? Your thanks to him, whenever he was feeling generous, was curt and met with what sounded like him clearing his throat, even if he wasn’t capable of it. You found it entertaining to banter with the lanky robot, and soon, it seemed he began to find it entertaining too.

Talk outside of the games grew more intense and more frequent. In the dropship, he’d stare blatantly, make you shift in your seat, and his disdainful attitude while in the ring became more sarcastic and teasing than a real threat. He’d thank you now, although it was clearly to mess with you, and when you’d pull him back up from a fight, he almost seemed smug. Could robots be smug? He was.

You being you, either suicidal or brave, still met him with the same behavior. However, his threats became less of anger and more… pleased.

“Watch your mouth, girly. It might get you into trouble someday.”

It did. God, it did.

This was new. He’d never found you before in the ring just for his own amusement. It was clear that was why when he didn’t put a cap immediately in your skull. You were stuck with Elliott at that time, who was busy looting the building across the cavern. You had moved ahead enough to be out of immediate earshot, and once that was determined, he jumped on you, almost quite literally. The rocks were sharp and uncomfortable against your back, even through your clothing. He had you pinned to the cavern’s wall, a darker corner within that left you exposed to him but hidden from Elliott’s line of sight. Elliott hadn’t called for you yet, but the ring would be closing soon, and it was inevitable.

Your own hand had pressed the wingman to Revenant’s chest, and it remained there until one of his steady mechanical ones wretched it away. A deep sound came from him, a chuckle, and he pushed into you further. You were quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“You could’ve taken the shot,” he spoke lowly, sounding quite pleased with your behavior. You hadn’t tried to push him away, hell, you barely moved a muscle aside from the irritating frown that now spread across your lips. “But you didn’t.”

He was teasing you again, though something was different. It could have been the close proximity making your heart jump in your chest, or maybe it was the intention of his words, which you were slowly unraveling. One of his thin hands came back from the wall and gripped your chin. It wasn’t as rough as you were expecting, but it wasn’t kind either. Your lips parted as you considered telling him off, but you were cut off by another deep chuckle before you could.

“I told you this mouth would get you into trouble,” if he had movable lips, he’d be smiling no doubt. A cold finger brushed against your bottom lip briefly, pushing into the plush skin, considering something before he swiped away. That’s when his hand fell down lower, coming to squeeze your hips and pull you closer, if at all possible. He towered over you, and he was still able to push his leg between your legs. “I’ll take this instead.”

His hand tightened briefly against your hipbone, almost as if testing the waters if he cared enough to do that. When you didn’t pull away from either his words or his touch, his hand moved down further, dragging along your pants before cupping your clothed heat completely. His hand was cold even through the fabric, and you gasped. This prompted his other to clamp down onto your mouth. His eyes glowed threateningly in the damp darkness between you. His hand didn’t remain above clothing for long. It only took one swift pull for him to yank your pants down to mid-thigh, damn near tearing the fabric and pulling you to your knees. His hold on you didn’t relent, and if it did, you surely would have fallen from the strength behind the pull. Once your pants were down enough, he moved onto your underwear, not even glancing down to them before he pulled them, too. This fabric gave way much easier, and it was left as nothing but scraps in his curled hand. They left your line of sight a moment later.

There was no preparation for what would meet your folds. It was cold, he was cold, and the sensation was not one you were entirely familiar with. Metal on skin. He was smooth at the moment, though fear pricked at your spine recalling how he had stabbed others before. It only took seconds for his hand to morph into what looked like the sharpest blade ever, and those seconds could occur at any time. Still, you couldn’t help but keen into his hand as fingers began to delve into your folds, parting them to dip into the wetness that had already begun to seep from your hole and push back out, rubbing slow motions against your clit. Already you were beginning to ache with need.

“Shhh,” he shushed you quietly, the sound somewhat smoother compared to his usual harsh voice. He was taking his time rubbing circles against you, his fingers blunt but precise with the motions. Your hips tried to push further into the touch, but he pushed back; metal to skin to solid rock.

Seconds were ticking by, and you were aware of every single one of them. In any other situation, you would have relished the slow pace, but it wasn’t the time, not when the ring close was inching closer and closer. He knew, too, and his touch against your clit only lasted a few more seconds before he pushed once again between your folds and prodded at your opening. You made a noise against his hand, and his gaze shot up from where he was watching your arousal slick his fingers.

You expected him to tease you again, but instead, you were met with two of his cold fingers pushing into you.

He watched your face intently, and even with his hand still covering your mouth, he was able to make out the desperate expression beneath with ease. You, the same girl who shot back the most snark with him, were taking his fingers so well. He loved it, loved teasing you, and all while he was quite possibly saving the face to his memory, he curled and stroked his fingers up into you. He was slow only for a few seconds before he quickened the pace of his thrusts, and as he did so, it felt as if his fingers had grown within you. He was pressing against the deepest parts of you, the tips of his fingers pressing completely into you before pulling back to rub against that spot. He found it just as quickly as he had taken you, and it wouldn’t be long before you came undone on the monster’s fingers.

“What if they could see you now,” his chuckle still rang in your ears, “Your cunt dripping all over my hand, you want to cum, don’t you?” His voice was low enough that you could begin to hear the sound of the slick metal pushing inside of you, and against his hand, you cringed. It was hard enough to pretend he didn’t get you riled up, and vice-versa, now that you knew. You half expected his words as he continued: “Beg. It’s good for both of us.”

The hand clamped over your mouth was released, and your defiant frown came into view. He stared down at you impatiently, but you offered no response. Your expression was enough for him to put the pieces together, and something of mock laughter met your ears.

“Would you rather I kill you now? Get it over with,” his fingers made the come-hither motion against your tight walls, and your hips jolted upwards with an audible gasp. He could kill you like that, you recalled, “You’re making it too easy. Come on, I want to hear you.”

It was right there. You could feel yourself trying to meet his thrusts, reaching your breaking point, but your lips remained shut. You were a brat, as he had come to realize, and he would have fun breaking you. It wouldn’t be long — As you tightened around his digits, they came to a halt. Your groan was nothing short of agitated, and he almost laughed again. You were desperate. If he didn’t kill you, the ring would.

“Please, fuck,” you hissed out, and his head tilted, beckoning for you to continue. “Hurry, just — please!” Irritation and desperation mixed, and your expression was stubborn, but you had done enough for him to find his own pleasure in your submission. His fingers began to thrust again, somehow even faster than they had before, and there was no covering the lewd noises that escaped both your lips and where his fingers met your skin. It took no time at all to have you jolting and choking out cries under him, your core pulsing around his fingers as he let you ride out your high. They stroked slower inside of you, almost testing the limits, but he pulled them out with a shlick a moment later. You sagged against the wall, chest heaving, and all he did was look you over. MEMORY REGISTER COMPLETE.

“Better hurry up, little girl. Next time I find you I won’t be as nice.”

After...

"Hey, uh, you think you could mute your comms next time?"

You came to a complete halt as Elliott spoke. He sounded almost as nervous as you were at that point, and your face visibly paled to him as you turned. He seemed to be having the same reaction, his eyes wide and darting from you to the area surrounding. A sound came from somewhere around the two of you, perhaps the shuffle of someone through the grass, and he began to laugh nervously. He was being much too loud, though clearly, you had no room to talk.

"You know what? Forget I said anything. It's fine. Never happened!"

#I am disgusting and so are you hooligans #take this trash #fucking skinsuits man #we're gross #revenant x reader #revenant #apex legends #apex legends x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #apex legends smut #oof #kinkshame me sure

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dorkousloris · 2 years

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thinking about d4ys g0ne the game and want a little AU flonita writing for funsie

When people say your Vespa might not last long, but no one have to knew that you can customized it to last long.

That’s what you did with your Vespa, right before the outbreak happened. What a timing, you think as you rode your Vespa through the dirt road. Most places are left abandoned, and other places are, well, taken over by freaks-- infected-- whenever these zombies are. But you’re not in the mood to hunt them down to gather more bounties. You have enough for today.

Today... you’re just going to visit one of the nearby camps, nothing important, really.

When you reached your destination, you are welcomed by the iron gate with a couple of gate guards. One of them looks up and beamed when they realized who you are.

“Anita Lee! Let them in!” The guard beams, and ordered the other who handled the gates itself to be opened.

You pulled your Vespa into the safety of this camp, a lake camp in fact. You get off the seat, and pushes your Vespa toward the nearby mechanic. He looks up and smiles at you.

“Hey, visiting again?”

You scoffs, stopping the Vespa near him and shrugs, “Maybe. Where’s--”

“She’s near the bounty stand, last I had seen her. Might be somewhere.”

You thanked him and looks at him hard to know you’re still not letting him touch your customized Vespa. Then you walk through the camp.

It’s amazing this place had been nothing but survival helps grow the camp itself, strong and brave. Loyalty, maybe. But you don’t really stay longer here, a Drifter never stop drifting away.

But lately this camp is just almost becoming your main base of operations, and it all come from someone. Someone they didn’t except to fall for.

Still, it’s a big camp and frankly, you need to dump the bounties before the smell gets you. So you went for the bounty stand, and flashes a smile as you hand the... shopkeeper? A keeper? who knows what they’re called but once you handed it over, and they says you will get your credits later tonight.

Guess, that meant finding h-- Hands over your eyes. You froze instantly by the sudden action and you hear a stifled giggle.

“Knock, knock.” The voice speaks, low and husky. You knew they’re trying to avoid the accent they usually had.

“Whose there?” you asked knowingly.

“Flowers.”

“Flowers who?”

“Flowers... for you.” You just finally laugh, that’s so bad and her hands were torn away as you flip around and hug her.

“Flowers for me, huh?” You says, looking up and she looks embarrassing flushed.

“Sorry, I thought I got a good joke, but I couldn’t think one.” She says, hugging you in return with a smile.

“Yeah, no, you’re a flower to me, definitely.” You says, not totally flirting and you can see red tinged on top of her ears.

“Oh my god, Neets!”

“Love you, Flo!” You grin and tiptoe to kiss her and she bend down so you can relax your footing as the two of you kissed.

Just another day of visiting the camp, totally not kissing your camp leader’s daughter or anything.

#lori writings #flonita #flonita au: days gone gaaaay

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fyeahnix · 3 years

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Title: This Isn't Gridiron Pairing: Bangalore/Wraith (Voidstrike) Other Characters: Lifeline and Wattson if you squint Rating: Teen and Up for PTSD references Words: 862 Prompt: Family Other Tags: Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Angst, Found Family, Memories Summary: "Solace's "eternal summers" remind Anita of a paradise version of Gridiron, minus the radiation. Weather's always perfect here and if it wasn't for having braved Gridiron's dangerous atmosphere since birth, she would have preferred living here instead. Even now she finds herself longing for the radiation burns if it means she'll get to be there one last time."

If you like it PLEASE REBLOG. You can read it here or on AO3, via the link found in the notes of this post. Please read on AO3 if you prefer correct formatting!

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Solace's "eternal summers" remind Anita of a paradise version of Gridiron, minus the radiation. Weather's always perfect here and if it wasn't for having braved Gridiron's dangerous atmosphere since birth, she would have preferred living here instead. Even now she finds herself longing for the radiation burns if it means she'll get to be there one last time.

At least… at least it's quiet outside of the Paradise Lounge. It's the Legends' day off with another scheduled tomorrow, and everyone just wanted to relax for once. So, they decided on karaoke at Elliott's suggestion. If Ajay and Octavio's drunk warbling are any indication, she'd say they're having a fantastic time. But she just can't do it. Not today.

The back door opens and shuts behind her. She doesn't know who it is, but guessing by the near-silent footsteps and short strides, she has a hunch. The person only walks up beside her to rest their arms on the railing, mimicking her.

Anita glances to her left. Wraith only gazes forward, smoky blue-grey eyes missing their usual otherworldly glow. They stand in silence for several minutes, and during that time, some random, unrecognizable patron has taken the mic for their song back inside the bar.

"Everything okay?" Wraith finally asks.

Anita hums. "Yeah."

"I'm not a fan of karaoke either. Don't feel bad if you don't want to participate."

Anita opens her mouth, wants to explain, but doesn't. What does it matter, really?

Another minute or two of silence passes. It's getting pitch black out and if this were Gridiron, it'd be peak hours to go out and congregate. Instead, she wants to go home. The music and laughing twists her stomach into the tightest knot.

Wraith speaks again. "You’ve been out here for half an hour. Everyone's worried about you." She isn't one to cut corners or beat around the bush; Anita’s surprised she took that long to say it.

"That why you're out here?"

"Partially."

"And what's the other reason?"

"I'm worried about you."

Out of the corner of her eye, Anita sees Wraith stand up straight to rest her hip against the railing.

"Bang. Are you sure you're okay? You know you can talk to me about anything."

"Don't worry about it."

The response she comes up with is quick and direct and it shuts Wraith down, at least for now. She hates people questioning her. If she says she's fine, just leave it and let her be. It's not that important anyway. She can just leave and enjoy the rest of her evening at home alone.

But does she want to? Back on Gridiron, she'd party until the crack of dawn if she could. Sure, this isn't her home planet - the weather's much nicer and she can actually go outside in broad daylight without being cooked alive. There's plenty of opportunity to hang out tomorrow doing something else. She doesn't need to be here for… this.

If she leaves now, then she looks like the asshole who ruined everyone's night. And then how would she fare? A part of her doesn't care, but the other part cares so deeply. She just… can't bring herself to. This isn't Gridiron, this isn't her home, this isn't her…

This isn't her family.

She blinks in rapid succession to rid herself of the sting of oncoming tears.

"I can't," she finally croaks.

Her eyes dart between everything and nothing out in the distance. Anything to reset and center herself. Anything to keep the tears and emotions away.

"I just… I can't. I can't go back in there."

The sound of music - the rhythm, the melody, the harmony - twists deeper in her gut like a knife. Brings back sharp and vivid memories she can't break free from.

"I can't. I can't. I can't do it."

Her breathing quickens and she stands, leans against the balcony to alleviate the pain. It doesn't work. Her head feels heavy, her chest feels full, and she's starting to tremble. She closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands. Nothing helps. She just wants to leave. To go home.

She can't concentrate, can't focus. The next she realizes, she's sitting on the floor with her head nestled between Wraith's neck and shoulder, tears flowing but no sobs wracking her body. It's still hard to breathe, but she manages.

Wraith's whispering to her, right at her temple, grazing the back of her head.

The back door opens and shuts. At some point, two familiar voices murmur around her and another warm body sits at her left and hugs her. Then a second at her back. She can't show her face. Not like this.

It’s an eternity before her breathing returns to normal. Wraith tilts her head, utters a few words, and the two trickle away and leave, one by one. Wraith hugs her tighter and rubs her back, right between her shoulder blades. Keeps whispering affirmations.

The pain fizzles but doesn't go out completely. It still lingers. It still burns. It always will.

Anita knows this isn't Gridiron. She knows this isn't her family - her real family. But it's what she has for now, and maybe that's okay.

#Apex Legends #Bangalore #Wraith #Renee Blasey #Anita Williams #Voidstrike #Bangawraith #writing #nix fics #tw ptsd

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dokidokivisual · 3 years

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Gochiusa BLOOM episode 4 impressions

Previously: episode 3, episode 2, episode 1

And now, episode 4. Last time we saw Chiya and Cocoa being put in charge of organising a “restaurant” for their class’s entry into the cultural festival. And it ends with them showing up at Rize and Sharo’s school and borrowing some “supplies”. At the start of episode 4 we go back in time to see what happened between those two events, as well as the cultural festival itself.

The episode opens with one of Cocoa’s classmates discussing a proposed arrangement of tables in the classroom, from the feng shui point of view. This traditional Chinese practice is often used in East Asia to create harmonious environment. In Japanese it’s called fūsui (風水). One of the main instruments is a compass (羅盤 raban), which can be seen placed on the table here:

Like with a normal compass there are symbols for directions written around it. However it also includes Chinese zodiac and Celestial stem characters. Just so we don’t forget what show this is, the character for Rabbit zodiac sign is replaced by a pictogram. The flow of qi (or chi) energy is also discussed, which is one of the primary feng shui concepts.

In the very next shot we see a bunch of Cocoa’s classmates gathered around the table. In anime it often happens that the main characters greatly stand out among their classmates by having original design and colorful hair. In fact in season 1 episodes 4 and 8 when Cocoa’s class is shown, that pretty much appears to be the case.

However the new group of classmates we’re introduced to is different. Not only do they have colorful hair and unique design, but they also have names and different personalities. Moreover this story arc isn’t the last time they’re seen (at least in the manga). Some backstory for these characters is also revealed, such as Kano staying at carpenter’s house, and Class President having deep-seated issues because of failing to get into her preferred school.

Anyway, Cocoa and Chiya decide that the best way to decorate their “restaurant” is by borrowing the decorations from the other school. Apparently they had to defeat the clubs over there in various contests, including the blowgun club (with its president making only a background appearance this time). This is obviously a callback to season 2 episode 10 where Rize and Sharo also had to win various contests to reach their goal.

The “spoils of war” include a bunch of masks that were previously seen decorating the blowgun club. I’m honestly not aware of any connection between fukiya and masks, but anyway, in a callback to an earlier feng shui scene we see classmate Anzu being aghast at the negative qi the mask seemingly emanates.

We get a little "imagine spot” with the classmates imagining Rize and Sharo based on their descriptions, which are apparently quite scary. I thought it’s interesting how the question marks which in the manga were drawn on top of the characters silhouettes ended up being drawn directly on characters’ faces and being partially covered by hair. Spooky.

We also see how the classmates imagine Cocoa and Chiya. Cocoa is seen as a “little sister” (much to her annoyance), while Chiya is seen as bancho (番長) which is the title of a leader of a group of juvenile delinquents, a surprisingly common character archetype despite the fact that this subculture hasn’t existed for decades. This is in contrast to Chiya imagining herself as shacho (社長), company president. 社 also means “society”, while a delinquent is basically the opposite of that.

Also, what was up with this soup being prepared? I don’t think they even served it. Anyway, Cocoa and Chiya give invitations to the rest of the gang, and the official theme of the “restaurant” is revealed, which is Beer Hall! And more specifically, Oktoberfest. Now, as you probably know this is a huge beer festival held in Munich, Germany. Contrary to its name, it takes place mostly during late September, and ends on the first Sunday of October, so perhaps this is the time period when the episode happens. On the other hand, cultural festivals are usually held around November 3rd (Culture Day) in Japan. So that’s another datapoint. On the third hand (?) we haven’t reached the Halloween episode yet so it’s probably not November.

(yeah, this is the second gif of Cocoa and Chiya on fire, what about it)

Anyway, it’s the day of the Cultural Festival and we see all sorts of stalls set up by the other classes. Chino, who has never been there before(?) seems to be impressed by it all, while Rize seems to imply they don’t have events like this at her school. Chimame run off by themselves, which leaves Rize and Sharo on a date basically.

Soon Chimame come back, each carrying a beer mug (called Maß in German and “stein” in English) which contains what looks like beer, but is actually a very frothy apple juice. However note that in Japanese “juice” (ジュース) can mean any soft drink, so it might have been carbonated or something?

Soon, a very scary person in a Tippy costume shows up, but it’s actually Cocoa and this is her idea of a “Tippy hat” which she mentioned earlier. Cocoa (and the rest of her class) wears a costume which could be previously seen on the cover of Memorial Blend, the season 1 Gochiusa guidebook. This is actually a traditional dress called dirndl which is worn in southern Germany and other countries around the Alps.

The full menu can be briefly seen here and includes Apfelsaft (apple juice), Apfelwein (apple wine), Apfelsoda (apple soda, but pretty sure that’s not a real word) and Brezel (pretzel). No soup included. Also note Sharo being scared of the rabbit statue before this scene.

Anzu shows up again, this time doing a Tarot card reading. It seems she’s interested in all sorts of divinations. In response Chino does the same “much obliged for taking care of” greeting Chiya did to Karede Yura in the previous episode, while calling Cocoa dame-ane (ダメ姉 “no-good big sister”) in the process. It’s not very often that Chino calls Cocoa “big sister”, so Cocoa is very happy about that.

Kano is seen bringing 5 full beer steins to the table. The standardized volume of one beer stein is 1 liter, which corresponds to 1kg of liquid. Together with the glass itself, total weight is about 2.5kg, or 5 pounds. The largest number of beer steins a single person has carried simultaneously is 29 (by Oliver Strümpfel). For a female, the record is 19 by Anita Schwarz. I didn’t expect Rize to win the armwrestling contest against Kano (in the manga it was ambiguous who won, or whether the contest even took place) but I guess being a CQC expert would help with that.

Chimame, Rize and Sharo are convinced to try on the dirndls of Cocoa’s classmates, who then immediately bail, leaving Rize and others in the position of the waiters. However they happily take on the challenge, and even Aoyama and Rin join in. We also see the mysterious pretzel that was on the menu:

Without Cocoa, there was nobody to call in new guests, but it turned out that Chino had more appeal wearing that Tippy headgear, so Chino bravely takes on this role for herself.

This kind of dramatic shot is called “harmony processing” (ハーモニー処理) and comes from the time anime was cel-animated with the character cel being painted in to blend with the background cel. The most famous example of this technique is in the boxing anime Ashita no Joe.

Eventually Cocoa, Chiya, Rize and Sharo get to leave their post and explore the school, all wearing Cocoa’s school uniforms, and have a good time. They imagine how it would’ve been if they were all classmates (even Rize who is technically a year older, but if her birthday was not in February but in April she’d be in the same class as the others).

Just like the last episode’s title, the title of this episode あったかもしれない日常 is reused from the manga, namely the chapter 12 of volume 5. It basically means “the everyday life that could have been”, and refers specifically to the alternate timeline where Rize, Sharo, Chiya and Cocoa are classmates.

More importantly, Chino gets to see what it looks like, and it might be the final push she needs to decide which school she would join (although there are many scenes hinting towards it throughout the episode). Chino even manages to get a photographer to preserve the memory of this moment. She wasn’t brave enough to ask for it directly, so she puts on the Tippy headgear to do it. A funny difference from the manga though, is that in the anime Tippy (to his horror) gets covered up by it, instead of staying on top of it like before.

After the festival, there’s a mostly anime-original scene where Chino pretty much announces her decision to Maya and Megu. With Chino’s statement “I have decided” I can’t help but recall the lyrics of the ending theme

決めちゃいます ○ですから問題なーい (We’ll decide. Because we’re <blank> it’ll be ok.)

With the placeholder ○ standing for “Chimame-tai”, of course.

Which brings up a question: when does Chino tell Maya and Megu she has chosen Cocoa’s school in the manga? I can’t find it at all. Seems like they already know by vol.6 ch.7...

After the ED there’s another short scene of Chino sneaking in Cocoa’s room to imagine how her uniform will look on her. Interestingly, this is based on 4-koma from chapter 13, making this the first episode this season to adapt content from 3 different chapters. Makes me wonder how they’ll adapt the rest of chapter 13 because this reveal is at the end of it, and some scenes rely on Cocoa not knowing Chino’s decision. But I guess we’ll see in the next episode.

Anyway, thanks for reading, see you next week!

#gochiusa #is the order a rabbit?#gochuumon wa usagi desu ka?#review

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xamassed · 3 years

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｢ @shrapnelsong ｣

She didn't need anymore reasons to shower Anita with kisses other than the fact that she loved her so, but Alice would gladly find them and run with them. Noticing a mark on her calendar as she passed by had her doubling back to check. A cat's grin took over her lips when she saw 'International Kissing Day' printed on the square, and she sneakily made her way to where the werebear was sprawled, napping on the couch. Her expression softened as she knelt down next to her, pressing one (for good morning), two (for I love you), and three kisses to her lips. "Happy smooch day, baby~"

Considering how deeply asleep the cursed woman was, it would take more than Alice’s gentle steps to wake her. Oblivious and lost in her own dreams ( these ones merciful, thank goodness ), she wasn’t roused even after the first kiss. She felt it, of course, and it made her lips twitch into a sleepy smile.

In her dream, it was the opposite — she was the one brave enough to initiate the kiss. She was the one to take her darling witch into her arms and pepper her tempting lips in a thousand sweet kisses.

The second peck elicited a deeper reaction. The werebear shifted and sucked in a deep breath, her body going taunt as she stretched out her bent legs. It could have been the breeze from the open window, or a tickle of her own hair against her face. No reason to wake up just yet.

But in her dream, it was Alice. The kisses had grown deeper, more heated. Their lips were swollen and pink, and the only relief came from another kiss, this one softer and barely there.

Alice’s third kiss finally urged Anita to open her eyes. Groggily, she blinked, the blurry shape of a sweet smile rousing her further. The tip of her own tongue peeked out to whet her dry lips, but it caught the taste of something sweet and familiar. She tasted it so often, but she always found herself wanting more. No matter how often she experienced it, no matter how familiar she became, she would never tire of Alice’s affections.

“There’s a whole day meant just for smoochin’?” Her voice was thick from sleep, but there was still a pinch of amusement in it. “Shit, c’mere then.”

Her body was still fuzzy and numb from having just woken up, but she still reached out and buried her fingers deep in Alice’s hair. She pulled her close and let their foreheads touch, but didn’t dare let their lips meet — not yet.

“Do I get to pick where I kiss you?”

#shrapnelsong #「 ( anita ; ic ) 」#「 v. the bear and a maiden fair ( anita ; werebear ) 」#「 r. be the one to lift my curse ( anita ; alice ) 」#( Heheheheheh :3c )#( she's ready to fully embrace this day )

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theloyaltyofthewolves · 4 years

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stray kids

one of you asked me if i could talk about why i love stray kids on my old blog. i know it’s about three months too late, but if ur still out there anon, this one’s for you.

it’s been five years since i stumbled into the world of kpop. i started listening in 2015. which is crazy. you know how long ago five years was? bts hadn’t even won an award in 2015. b*g b*ng was still together in 2015. twice and ikon won rookie of the year, nct hadn’t debuted, exo had just begun their rise to fame.

it’s been a fun five years. i have loved many different groups. i have watched them sprout, grow, blossom, followed several of them to stardom. some of them, i’ve broken up with. many of them, i still check in with from time to time. i’ve watched several of them disband or go into hiding. i still listen to their music, i still watch their old fancams.

this is all to say that stray kids are different. they always have been and i knew that right away. i was sitting in my dorm room, five thirty am, headphones on while my roommate slept, watching the 2018 MAMA awards. you know the performance. we all know the performance. two years later, and it’s still their best performance. not just because they won rookie of the year, not just because of bluesung. but because they threw absolutely everything they could into it. sure, maybe the show was a little sloppy. maybe there were mistakes, maybe they were a little bit awkward, maybe the vocals weren’t perfect, maybe they couldn’t fill the whole stage. but they were giving it everything they had. and the thing abt live streams, live performances, is that shit like that shows. you can dose up music videos with as many special effects as you like. you can edit the official recordings, slip in some autotune, crop some angles, blur some skin as much as you want. but you cannot fake desperation. you can’t fake passion.

to this day, i have never seen a performance like that. not from a rookie group, not from a veteran. i didn’t even know who the hell they were, where the hell they had come from, who they belonged to, what their names were, but i could feel their desperation across six thousand miles of ocean. in an industry overflowing with glittering diamonds, these kids were broken shards of obsidian. they were raw. they were unpolished. they were sharp. they had cut themselves open for this performance, they were bleeding all over the stage.

i will always have a weak spot for underdogs. for the kids who fight tooth and nail just to be there, who come out with scraped knees and bruised knuckles. the kids who force themselves into places they don’t fit into, stages too clean for them. the kids who make a scene just by showing up. who come in hot, burning, running their mouths. talking way bigger than they are, way bigger than they have any right to be. the reckless hubris of youth, the kind that turns heads. fucking look at us. fucking pay attention. we fought to be here, we survived, we’re staying.

that is what stray kids is. an experiment, a test. eight wolves just coming into their own. they’re messy and they’re ragged and they’re scrappy and they’re real. they can’t be handled the way that other groups have been built to be, they can’t be air-brushed into perfection. the thing about a company ceding control the way it has is that there is no reclaiming it. there’s no picking up the end of the leash once it’s been dropped. stray kids are self-made. they built themselves with their bare hands. it’s their blood, their sweat, their sacrifices. their music, their dream, their voice, their sleepless nights and empty bank accounts. their fire, their heart, their honest-to-god love. yes, they have been confined within the limits of jyp and yes, they are still chained to the performative nature of being an idol. but they have pulled the boundaries far further than any group that has come before them. their own terms, their own music, their own limits. stray kids are the new standard.

and then there are the members themselves. i could spend another four thousand words talking about why i love them individually. but stray kids are more than the sum of their parts. they always have been.

all idol groups love each other. i cannot imagine there is any other way that they survive. the pressure, the expectations, the fame, the stress, the exhaustion, the bullshit, the objectification, the subjugation. being worked to the bone, run like a racehorse, treated like a commodity instead of a human being. it’s a version of trauma bonding, it really is. your teammates become the only people who understand what you are going through, who can relate to you, share your burden. they are also often the only ones looking after each other. keeping each other safe, keeping each other healthy. friends, if not family. allies, if not friends. teammates rely on each other, that is universal.

but stray kids’ bond runs deeper than that.

we like to talk like it was fate that they found each other, like they stumbled into one another and it all just fell together and everyone was happy and the river ran smooth and the blood was sweet like honey. we like that, we think there’s something holy in it because it rings like destiny and we like that. soulmates, meant-to-be’s.

that’s not what they are. i wish i could get it stapled across my blog in big bold letters. it’s not a coincidence. it’s not a miracle. it’s not an accident. stray kids are not an act of fate, they are an act of love and that is what makes them so fucking special.

it’s not luck that got them this close. it’s not destiny. stray kids put in the time. they put in the effort. they looked at each other and they decided this isn’t going to be an accident. love takes work. love takes sacrifice. love takes patience and selflessness and respect and effort. it’s not one and done, you don’t just fall in love and everything falls into place. choosing to love someone, committing yourself to someone, devoting yourself to someone – never mind seven other people – is a big fucking deal. it has to be done consciously. it has to be done on purpose. you have to look inside of yourself and say this is more important. these people are more important. i will put them first over everything.

it’s the millionth time, but i’ll say it once more for the people in the back: stray kids practice active love. love as an action, love as a verb, love as an act of defiance. on purpose, on purpose. i’m going to love you on purpose. i’m going to take you for everything you are, all your flaws and all your strengths, all your dreams and all your fears, all the stones and scars and ghosts that you carry. i’m going to love you for all of it. the good and the bad.

losing teammates is a bitter and terrible loss. it must haunt them restlessly, follow in their footsteps and shadow their shoulders, whispers in their ears at every turn. wounds like that don’t heal right on their own, so they have stitched themselves up with parts of each other. it’s why they never stray too far, are never more than an arm’s length from each other’s sides. it’s why chan doesn’t let the kids out of his sight, why they are always so on-edge when they are not eight, why every time one of their teammates is returned to them, he is subjected to a full check-up by seven worried faces. they all have it, that obsessive tic. they reassure with their hands, with physical touch. tangible. it’s not enough to see, they have to feel each other under their fingers. reassure that we are here, we are together, we are eight and we are still alive. they are terrified to lose one another so they bind themselves tighter, lean on each other harder, love fiercer and bloodier.

it’s an act of resistance, love like that. screaming into the endless void of hate and emptiness, loneliness and despair, failure, defeat, grief. even after all this time. all the heartbreak and the devastation, everything they’ve lost, all the tragedy. to get back up, to put on a brave face, to take a stand with your chin up and your arms outstretched: these are my people. my heart and my soul, my blood and my bones. you cannot take them from me, you will not take them from me, i will cherish them to my death, i will protect them to my death, i will love them to my death. practicing active love because they want to be together, because they will be together, because they are better when they are together--that’s brave. that is bravery. that is an act of rebellion and it is the most human thing one could do and it is the reason i love them more than anything. because they love each other on purpose, and because somehow in this world of chaos and violence and hatred and fear, that is enough.

you kiss me with your mouth wide open like you're not afraid of swallowing poison. i taste the good and the bad in you and want them both. we call this bravery. - anita ofokansi

#in this stray kids shit for life my dudes #truly some of the bravest kindest most incredible kids ive ever seen #we are lucky to know you boys #stray kids fighting #until the end of the road #happy valentine's day #stray kids #skz #long post #bang chan #lee minho #lino #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #and now the loyalty of the wolves

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