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#because like i said before she got 20 seconds of screen time
dravidious · 8 months
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You're more amazing than snuggles
Hey, so, I just realized that the "A Familiar Melody" story shouldn't be possible because Alice would've got teleported home after saving the world. I see no good way to correct this error, so I guess I'll just leave it up. Oops.
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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fly on the wall * fem!driver
she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, lewis hamilton x fem!reader
warnings: crashing the car
notes: ooooh my god i had to rewrite this 5 times because it wasn't up to my liking initially, and then tumblr was having some issues saving my shit so i lost it?? it's very sad fr
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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"are you alright?" sebastian's voice comes onto the radio.
his eyes are trained on the big screen, cameras focused on the car parked into the wall out of a turn. he couldn't get an answer out of his driver so he had to resort to the third party.
if his assumptions are correct, she would have hit her head on her seat hard at impact. but things like that can lead to so many bigger things that he might not even be prepared for. 
her vision slowly returns, blacking out for a mere second as the car went into the barriers of the baku track.
she had issues with her brakes for a few laps. sebastian had suggested retiring the car if she didn't feel safe, but she pressed on. the issue didn't seem so serious and it seemed manageable.
at first. 
it's a driver error - missing the early braking point to accommodate her already tweaking brakes. she missed it by a millisecond, clipped the wall and got sent straight into the wall.
she sighs, pressing the button on her steering wheel. "i'm okay," she answers shakily, tears now filling her eyes.
"okay, that's the important part. don't think about anything else. i'll see you in the medical centre." sebastian is quick to shut her thoughts down, clearly prioritising her wellbeing and not the car.
"i'm sorry," she sighs, voice shaking and lips quivering. “i’m so sorry, seb.”
this is only her third race in f1, how could she have already crashed out? on a race where she was so close to that podium. it would have been such a monumental moment — a woman on the podium. 
with 20 laps left in the race and her in 5th place, it wasn’t all that far out of reach at the time. yet, here she is causing a yellow flag as she starts to notice the smoke surrounding her. 
"like i said. don't think about anything else."
she sighs to herself as a marshal appears above her halo, greeting her with a soft smile. she nods, letting herself get helped out of her car.
but only one thought eats away at her: she crashed on her third race. what's everyone going to say about her now?
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“let me talk,” sebastian sighs, hands up in the air as he tries to calm the girl sitting on the examination bed. he’s barely able to get a word in.
she’s slouched against the wall, purple balaclava in her hands as she traces the thread that holds it together at the hem. the minute he walked in, she looked up immediately with tears in her eyes and a string of apologies.
it hasn’t stopped since he poked his head through the door, cutting him off before he could even ask if she’s okay. 
“do you not see the problem?” she shrieks, eyebrows furrowing at sebastian. “i just crashed out! imagine what the media has to say about my performance today? they’re just going to use this as a reason to justify that i shouldn’t be on the track!”
sebastian drops his hands to his side, deciding that he’d just let her get it all off her chest. it might make her feel better. 
though, it doesn’t make him feel good that she’s continually talking down on herself. he vouched for her for weeks for a reason, and it’s because he believes in her. more than she does in herself, it seems. 
“i didn’t work my ass off my whole life just to be undermined because i’m a woman!” she tosses the balaclava aside, now picking at the loose skin by her fingernails. “i didn’t get this far for everyone to count me out because of one crash! can you fucking believe that shit? it’s a fucking rookie mistake, seb! i’ve been racing for years!”
she drops her hands by her side and groans again, rolling her eyes. “i’ve earned my rightful spot to be where i am! they are not going to care about that!”
sebastian shrugs slightly, overlooked by the infuriated woman across him. he can barely get a breath in before she continues, shutting his mouth immediately as she continues her rampage. 
“imagine the headlines tomorrow! a driver is as good as their last race — i know that! don’t try to sugarcoat it. you know i’m right!” she rambles on, eyes darting all over the room. she’s pushed herself off the wall slightly, clearly flustered over the course of events. 
she avoids sebastian’s eyes, the fear of fully breaking down in front of him prominent. crying over a crash seemed like such a silly thing to do, but there’s no denying how demanding the sport truly is. 
in her short three races in the season and people’s neverending criticism of her abilities, it makes her lie awake at night rethinking her position on the grid. 
following her crash, sebastian hadn’t expected for her to ramble on for this long. he initially thought that the crash would have sent her into a shocking silence, so while her anger is warranted, it was definitely not on his list of things to be ready for. 
“imagine what they have to say about me!” she throws her hands in the air, scratching her head gently. “imagine what they’ll say about you! it’s not going to be good, trust me! i’m a woman in a fucking racing car in a male-dominated sport!”
“hey!” sebastian’s voice bounces in the room, making her lift her head with her eyes narrowed into a glare. 
the sudden movement reminds her of her restrictions, hands coming up to nurse the back of her neck. she feels a sharp pain shoot through her head all the way down to her shoulders. “what?” she hisses, quickly looking down to hide the pain. 
“you literally just crashed head-first into a wall at 250 kilometres per hour! you’re lucky all you got was a concussion and whiplash! it could’ve been worse!”
“if i was lucky, i’d have been able to recover and get on the podium as we discussed! i was already 5th!”
“and you didn’t! that’s okay! you learn from things like these!”
“no, it’s not! i’m already hated as it is!”
“it’s part of the sport! fernando alonso has crashed, lewis has, and so have max and charles! every other big name in formula 1 has had their fair share! you’ll be okay!”
she finally meets sebastian’s eyes, slouching even more as she audibly sighs. he watches her body deflate, leaning back dejectedly. “it’s still different.”
she’s still in her fireproofs. her race suit had to be taken off during her short time with the doctor, hanging on the back of the plastic chair in the small medical room. her helmet sits next to her, underneath the balaclava she’d thrown on top of it. 
her hair is in a loose ponytail with stray hairs poking out and resting on her face. the adrenaline has yet to leave her body, chest heaving as if it’d just been over and beads of sweat still scattered all over her.
“i know it’s different. but everyone else who says whatever isn’t the person behind the wheel, you have to remember that,” he says in a soothing tone, finally coming up to stand next to her. he sighs, putting a hand on top of her head. “and i know it sucks.”
she shakes her head. “no, you don’t. we’re different; our problems are different.”
“the way they used to hate me, and things they say about you are different, yes,” sebastian nods in a low voice, his thumb now tracing circles on her head. “but you still can prove them wrong. you just started driving in formula 1 — you’ll have way more chances to shut them all up.”
“i could’ve already. if i just controlled the car a little better.”
“it’s okay.” he slides himself onto the examination bed, sitting next to her. he intertwines his fingers and rests his hands on his thigh. “everybody crashes at one point in their career.
“let the media say what they want, but not all that criticise you have been in a race before. nobody on that grid thinks you’re lesser than you are just because of what happened today.”
“you don’t know that.”
sebastian just shakes his head, refusing to elaborate any further. he leans back into the wall as well. “oscar is on the way with some snacks for you.”
crashing out during a race is never easy. years before he decided to retire, tapping and crashing out of a race has always been demoralising. it always feels like the first time when he does.
“i don’t need snacks. i need to go back to 4 hours ago when i was still on track for a podium finish in the first half of my rookie season.”
“with your talent, i can assure you that this will not be your only opportunity in formula 1. i will make sure of it, of course. wherever i go, you go.”
the door creaks open, cutting her off before she can throw an answer back as sebastian. “i’ve got your favourite snacks. i also stole a couple of twix bars from your backpack, i hope you don’t mind.”
“well, why’d you take them and still tell me about it knowing i wouldn’t even have given it to you in the first place?” she reaches for the nearest object next to her, yanking it towards oscar by the door. 
“because it was calling my name,” he shrugs, pushing the door fully open to reveal who he’s strung along to the medical centre. 
“i took a packet of haribo,” logan shrugs as he steps in. he flinches when she clenches her fist, scrambling to pull something out of his paper bag. “but i got you a can of sprite to make up for it! don’t be mad!”
her gaze softens when she notices lewis hamilton standing behind her friends, a paper bag hanging on his fingers as he grins at her. 
“how are you, sweetie?” his voice is empathetic and low, giving her a look that she’d seen from everyone she’s passed on her way here. 
she sees lewis and sebastian exchange glances, almost making her roll her eyes again. 
she doesn’t talk to lewis that often, but he has addressed her before when she would trail behind sebastian on the track. she would often greet him softly as she hid behind her mentor, or simply excuse herself when she sees either oscar or logan passing by. 
he’s a role model and the last thing she ever wanted to do was be too overbearing. to see him come to her aid is only a dream come true. 
“i hope you don’t beat yourself up because of that. you drove a brilliant race today,” he smiles. “everybody crashes out. don’t even care what others have to say about you. you did well.”
lewis understands being cast out as a minority. he will never understand the struggles and pressure put on her, but he can at least relate to a certain extent. “don’t even sweat it. you’re now one of the world’s greatest in a fast race car. you’d smoke anybody who would dare challenge you.”
oscar tilts his head. “why would someone random just challenge her out on the street?”
“oscar, shut up,” logan shoves the australian slightly, landing a warning smack on his shoulder after. “let her have her moment.”
lewis laughs but does wave oscar off as he returns his attention to her. “what they say will string, but trust me, this is not the end of the world. i know it feels like it.”
she nods to herself. “okay, hand me the snacks so i can eat away all my pain. i deserve it.”
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock
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slvtforfiction · 4 months
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Could you pls write a Johnnie guilbert x f! Reader where reader is a famous song writer and she’s up late at night like around 2:00-3:00 am working on a new song and Johnnie is sick and tired of her staying up all night and not taking care of herself so one night he gets up and hauls her ass to bed and when reader try’s to protest he tells her to stfu and plops right on top of her so she can’t go nowhere.
☆ Ahhhhh yes omg thank you anon x
☆ Sorry it’s short ☹️
☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader
☆ Fluff
☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
Masterlist | Pinned Post
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“Pumpkin,come to bed.” Johnnie whispered as I shook my head, “I can’t,I have to finish these lyrics.” I whispered as I barely looked away from my computer screen.
“When will you come to bed? It’s already midnight.” He told me and I nodded my head, “I know,I’ll be in bed by one,I promise,but I really have to finish this.” I told him with a sigh.
“If you’re not in bed by one,I’m turning off your pc.” He told me jokingly and I giggled, “Sure.” I said lightheartedly with a smile.
I continued to write as Johnnie walked off to bed,I had to finish these lyrics because the deadline was in three days,I was already behind and if I didn’t get this posted to them I would be worse off.
The amount of emails I was getting about the deadline was finally getting to me,the pressure put on me was keeping me up at night.
Ironically enough it was a song about the love between two people.I’ve always loved Johnnie,since the moment I saw him,so the second I got the chance at a love song I took it.
I hummed a tune to myself,listening to the beat of a song and editing the lyrics to fit the best I could. I knew I would end up scrapping and editing a few lines but I didn’t mind,as long as I got a base for my writing.
“You’re my my my lover~” I sung softly to myself as I checked if the lyrics matched the beat.
It was the most ironic situation I’ve been placed in,Johnnie was always looking out for me,taking mental health days off with me and always making sure I got enough sleep,he was the perfect example for a boyfriend.
I hummed softly to myself as I mind mapped some feelings for the song,the best I got up to was :
•love
•kindness
•looking out for people
•Caring
This was before I realised I was writing a song about Johnnie essentially. I was listing everything Johnnie had done for me,past and present. Johnnie was the perfect model for any love song.
I sit there tapping my pen against my paper,slowly running out of ideas before I edit a few more words.
“This is our place.” I hum to myself and quickly edit the line before I forget to,I smile as I realise i have my own house with the person I love. The realisation pulling a smile into my face.
“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” I whisper as I read out the lyrics,humming the tune to myself. This had become a love song about Johnnie and no one would know,I laugh to myself at the actualisation.
And before I knew it the click of the clock on my laptop changed the time to 1am, “Hey sweetheart,I need you to come to bed please,this isn’t good for you.” Johnnie whispered standing in the doorframe.
“Five more minutes,” I say as I look up at him, “Please!” I whisper to him as I see the disapproval sat on his face. “Okay,but after that im gonna have to drag you to bed.” He laughs but I know he would probably do that.
I mean ; not literally but Johnnie would drag me kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do to get me to snuggle up to him in bed and sleep.
I edit a few lyrics and words before resting my head on the desk for a brief moment. A brief moment then turns into Johnnie tapping my arm, “Love wake up,you can’t sleep here,come to bed.” He whispers lovingly.
“No I have to finish this.” I say quietly looking up at him, “No,you’re coming to bed come on.” He says as he picks me up by the waist,holding me up to his waist without a reaction.
“Okay.” I whisper quietly.Tiredly I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk into our shared room,i strip myself of my clothes and put on my Pyjamas before huddling up in bed next to Johnnie.
“I love you.” I whispered as I kiss his cheek, “I love you too,princess.” He whispers before I drift of back into sleep.
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cal-flakes · 10 months
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for all my glasses wearers: this requests for you.
shy reader who is used to ppl telling them they look better without glasses, only for rafe to find out they actually do very much need them, especially to read
so rafe finally encourages them to wear them more and make sure to tell them how cute they look with them
this feels like a personal attack and I LOVE IT. (i am absolutely supposed to wear my glasses 24/7 but i hate them so no.)
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╰┈➤ rafe finds out y/n can’t see very well
warnings: mostly fluff.
summary: rafe does his best to reassure y/n that she looks beautiful with her glasses.
rafe had never really picked up on y/n’s lack of 20/20 vision until they started seeing eachother more often. from asking him to read food menu’s for her, to almost running someone over in the car, because she couldn’t see.
he’d known y/n all his life, and he’d never seen her wearing her glasses, ever. he didn’t even know she needed glasses before a romantic relationship was ignited between the two at a party.
the first time he’d brought up getting her eyes tested, she got defensive and snappy, shouting about how ‘her vision was perfectly fine’. rafe agreed to drop the subject, and it was never mentioned again, until they were driving home from the store. “y/n that’s a person!” he had shrieked, causing her to slam on the breaks, winding him in the process. “oh, oops?”
that was when he finally decided to book her a secret eye test, convincing her they were going for lunch, and surprising her completely when they pulled up outside the eye doctors. to his surprise, she reluctantly revealed that she infact, had glasses, she just never wore them.
“baby, seriously, you have to start wearing them. you almost ran someone over the other day!” he exclaimed, completely oblivious to the reason she refused to wear them. “fine! i don’t wear my glasses because some boys bullied me in eighth grade! they said i looked like that old lady from monsters inc! you know? the one that says ‘mike wazowski’?”
ever since then he couldn’t stop thinking about how awful it must’ve been for her, to simply put up with not being able to see simple things, yet being to shy to ask people to read for her.
so there they sat, cuddled up on the couch, staring at the television, or squinting, in her case. glancing in her direction for a moment, he noticed the strain in her posture as she leaned forward slightly, trying to focus on the screen.
“angel, i will do anything, and i mean anything, for you to go get your glasses, please” he pleaded, placing a reassuring hand on her cheek as she met his eyes.
sighing, she threw her head back, averting her eyes to the ceiling as she blew air through her nose. “seriously, rafe? this again?”
“my love, my sweet, sweet girl” he drawled, chuckling slightly. “i just want you to be able to enjoy and experience things properly, how can you expect to do that when your straining to see things?”
“fine! if it’ll shut you up, i’ll go get my glasses, and you can see how ugly they look, okay?” she groaned, tossing her legs over the couch. “okay baby” he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss to her hand before she pulled it out of his grip.
he sat excitedly, listening to her footsteps to and from the bedroom in her apartment. he sat up, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard her padding back towards the living room.
“don’t be ridiculous, you can open your eyes rafe..” she sighed impatiently. he smirked, twisting to see her as she stood in the doorway with an irritated hand on her hip.
his eyes widened as he took in her new appearance, completely unfamiliar to him. the round, tortoise-shell glasses fell perfectly down the bridge of her nose, creating a somewhat seductive, cute look, aligned perfectly with the freckles littered around her nose.
“you look..” rafe covered his mouth for a second, unable to contain his utter adoration for her in the moment. “i look horrible, i know”
“no! no, not at all. angel, you look so beautiful right now, like so unbelievably perfect..” he gasped, pushing off from his spot on the couch to wrap his arms around her.
snaking her arms around his neck, she hid her face in his chest as he looked down at her hungrily. “no, no, no…look at me baby” he muttered, cupping her cheeks to guide her face up to his.
she glanced up at him through her lashes while the glasses sat on the tip of her nose. “wait, fuck…not like that…”
“not like what?” she giggled, utterly oblivious to what she was doing.
“bedroom, now” he stated eagerly, grabbing her hand to pull her with him.
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toournextadventure · 1 year
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Wednesday texting reader sappy msgs as reader had to leave and enid steals weds phone and searches it
So like Wednesday's lockscreen is reader her homescreen too
Wednesday has reader saved as some cute little thing too
Just pure fluff!!
Wednesday is secretly a simp, we all know this
you simp
Ever since you had left for break, Enid had to suffer through Wednesday’s phone going off every 20 seconds. At first she had thought it was sweet to know that she was finally getting use out of the phone you had gifted her a few months ago. She would sit there and wonder what you were both talking about considering the relationship seemed to be far more you talking, Wednesday listening.
But if she had to hear one more ding at 4am, she was going to throw the damn phone out of the window.
It was 4:30 in the morning and Enid had been listening to Wednesday’s phone vibrate since 10 last night. She wanted to sleep, it would have been easier if you two would just call on the phone like normal people. But no, you two just had to be texting the whole night because it’s not like Wednesday had a roommate or anything!
She waited impatiently until Wednesday got up and went to the bathroom, foolishly leaving her phone where Enid could easily confiscate it. In her defense, the intent had not been to be nosy! It didn’t really matter to her what you were both talking about (though she would be lying if she said she wasn’t curious). All she wanted to do was hide the phone for the rest of the night so she could get a little bit of sleep.
Now, if the phone just so happened to light up when she was holding it, it was coincidental. And if the sight of you as the lock screen was enough to spark her curiosity, then she could be forgiven for being a little bit nosy. After all, the secretive, stoic Wednesday Addams had her partner as her lock screen? Her smiling partner?
The fact that there was no passcode on the phone was entirely Wednesday’s fault. It was the easiest thing in the world to unlock the phone and, what do you know, a picture of the two of you was her home screen. And Wednesday was smiling! Enid could have fainted from the surprise right then and there. Why on earth would Wednesday hide such an adorable smile. And how on earth did you manage to get a picture of it? She had to know your secrets.
The phone vibrated again, and Enid swore on her life she hadn’t meant to pry. But she saw your name pop up as “Mi Amor” with a black heart beside it. How could she not look? Oh god, Enid felt herself swoon at everything she saw. Wednesday was practically waxing poetic to you with every text, getting more and more sappy as the night dragged on.
Enid felt her own cheeks getting hot at how ridiculously romantic Wednesday was. No one would have ever guessed she even had the capability for such kind words, but the amount of times she lauded you was incredible. The pet names, the poetry, the absolute love she sent you time after time. She never would have guessed Wednesday capable or even willing of such love.
Well. She was her father’s daughter.
“What are you doing?”
Oh shit. Enid nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden appearance of Wednesday. She was standing there in the middle of the room, giving Enid a look that meant she definitely wasn’t playing around. Which Enid knew, but she never wanted to be on the receiving end of it.
“I wasn’t snooping,” Enid defended quickly. But the phone vibrated again and Enid’s eyes instantly looked down to read it before looking back up to see Wednesday’s death glare.
“You’re dead, Sinclair,” Wednesday threatened.
“Listen,” Enid held her hands up in surrender, “I never knew you were such a romantic.”
Wednesday gave Enid a look. Only one. Then one big breath in, one slow exhale. That was all it took before Wednesday started after Enid. Enid let out a scream and started running, the phone still in her hands. Wednesday was going to kill her, this was how she was going to die. She typed out a message on the phone to send to you really quickly.
Your girlfriend is going to kill me, send help!
She hoped you would save her. Apparently, you were the only one who could.
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sunnys-out · 7 months
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I've loved you for so long (1) | Lucy Bronze
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A/N: Hello! I haven't written in so long but here is something that I have been working on since the WC (she's a short one I know). I didn't post it earlier because I was moving and starting a new job but everything has calmed down and I had time to edit it. Please let me know what y'all think and hopefully, I can post the 2nd part soon! If you like my writing maybe through in a suggestion and I'll try my best! :D
Content: Angst, Fluff if you squint
{Word Count: 2004}
______________________________________________________________
I've loved you for so long
Oh, I'd forgotten how it feels
Feelings come back strong
'I've Loved You For So Long - The Aces'
Lucy and I had met, informally, in 2015 in Canada, we never played against each other in that World Cup but that didn’t stop us from bumping into each other at Tim Hortons. The couple of times that we ran into each other at the World Cup caused small conversations and laughs that left me wanting more. God, even just her smile left me wanting. 
I didn’t message her throughout our respective seasons right after the World Cup but sometimes I’d click on her Instagram profile and just scroll and see her thrive in Manchester City. Well I did drum up the courage to message once.
‘It’d probably be weird if I messaged her out of the blue right?... I mean it has been weeks  since Canada?’ I told myself as I lay on my small apartment couch in Portland.  
My thumb hovered over the send button with a slight tremble.
“Fuck it” My thumb harshly hit the screen and the quick ‘Wanted to say that you had an amazing tournament. Shame we never played against each other ♥️That goal against Canada was a banger meant to send that in Canada lol!”  message was delivered.
 I swear I threw my phone onto the other side of my couch and took a shower not expecting to see two notifications sent five minutes after me.
‘Lucy Bronze liked your message’
‘Lucy Bronze: ‘means a lot. Hope to see you again soon, miss world champion ⭐️⭐️⭐️’
I didn’t notice the smile growing as I looked at the notifications on the screen. I probably read it 20 times, setting the phone down on my coffee table and pacing the room debating whether I should respond or what I even should respond with. 
“Lucy is funny, maybe I can joke about how it’s been long or maybe just a ‘feeling is mutual’” I said aloud to myself.
‘Why am I getting worked up about this?” My hair is now messy by how many times I redid my ponytail pacing the room for 13 minutes. I kept procrastinating and just settled with getting ready for bed.
‘I’ll just respond tomorrow,’ I said, confidently,  plugging in my phone and placing it on my nightstand. That sentiment lasted about 2 minutes before I walked quickly back into my room picking up my phone, opening the message, and liking Lucy’s before responding. 
Y/N: I would love to see you again! I hope it's somewhere other than Tim Hortons even though I loved that place lol 🙂
My phone immediately locked as I got into bed and turned away from my phone. I closed my eyes tightly trying to go to sleep quickly so that in the rare probability that Lucy would continue the conversation, I could deal with it tomorrow morning, maybe ask Klingenburg for advice. Though she might scold me for fraternizing with the enemy, jokingly of course. Defenders knew other defenders right? Kling would find it funny that a right winger is flirting with a right back.
My thoughts were interrupted by one vibration and then two more in succession. My body slowly turned over to see my phone lit up still and then slowly dimming. My hand, subconsciously, went over, picked up my phone, and opened the messages seeing Lucy liking my message.
Lucy: Let me buy you a cup whenever you’re in Manchester; there are some cafes you’d like here.
Lucy: I would love to show you around 🙂 
I smiled at the messages and immediately replied without a second thought
Y/N: I will let you know because I do need a vacation 🥲
Y/N: And I would love to give you a tour of Portland, the coffee capital of the world. Worth it.
I stared at the messages until I saw a little heart appear on my last message. The little dots of a message incoming made me nervously tap the side of my phone. 
Lucy Bronze: I’ll take that as a promise 😉
Y/N: And I expect that cup of coffee in Manchester is a promise too ☺️
Lucy would only like the message and I would promptly go to sleep after waiting 15 minutes for a message that never came. I tried my best to not think about it but the feeling that came from reading her messages and the smile that would creep onto my face…I wouldn’t forget. 
Hayley Raso came into my life slowly after that. Glances turned to long stares. The lingering touches throughout practice became more than a pat on the back for a job well done. The smiles and laughs echoed off the walls of Providence Park as we walked to our cars until it was just to my car.
The weekly movie nights at my place turned into watching a show and cuddling together after practice for days on end. Another toothbrush appeared in the bathroom and suddenly my queen-sized bed wasn’t as empty. 
Mornings were met with a quick kiss, a hug from behind, and sweet nothings whispered in each other's ear.
Going to practice wasn’t done alone anymore and it was nice to have someone waiting on you if you had to stay behind to see the physio.
It was easy since we were both playing for Portland at the time and the team weren’t surprised when we told them.
 Little by little the Australian would appear in my Instagram photos and I in hers. 
The one that “broke the internet” was Hayley’s post of her kissing me on the cheek at the end of a game when the USWNT and Australia had a friendly. The one that sealed the deal for everyone was my Christmas post of photos of the party I had at my apartment. One, a particular one at the end, Hayley was in my lap while I kissed her. 
Something, however, nagged at me every time I saw a certain person's name pop up “Lucy Bronze liked your post” but I ignored it. I now know it was the feeling of the “what if” and “what could have been”. 
‘Did Lucy not want this with me? Maybe that’s why she never followed up. I probably said something to scare her away. Hayley didn’t run away’ I remember thinking to myself and as if on cue two arms snake their way around my waist. 
“Everything alright babe?” Hayley said into my back, I, immediately, felt my shoulders relax at the sound of Hayley’s voice.
I whispered, “I'm alright, just read some rude comments. You know how some people get”. I lied to Hayley; I was happy in our relationship and shouldn’t be wondering about the “what could have been” with someone that wasn’t her.  
Hayley would then go on to say that she’s told me to never look at the comments because when have the mean ones ever done something for us? She’d led me back to the bedroom to get ready for bed as we had an early practice but not after she promised to take my mind off the “negative comments”...it worked. 
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She Believes Cup March 6th, 2016, 
Lucy Bronze’s POV
We hadn’t played the United States in Canada which is a shame to not be able to play the future World Champions. Once, we had heard that we would be playing them in the She Believes Cup. I was excited for multiple reasons.
The US call up was released and I would be playing against (y/n). Since the World Cup, (Y/N) was making a name for herself as a strong right winger and playmaker for Portland and the National team.
On the pitch, she seemed cold and intimidating, but I met her as the complete opposite. 
I was able to just watch her tap her lip with her finger with her US cap on backward as she decided which pastry she wanted with her coffee at that Tim Hortons. She whistled quietly as she waited her turn and then adorably, fumbled through her order. Then humming to herself happily as she waited on the side with her warm croissant covered by a napkin.  
I was in awe of her. I had seen her play before and was always impressed by what I’d seen but never played against her. 
As I went up to order my own coffee and pastry I noticed her scrolling through her phone, laughing to herself. (y/n’s) eyes crinkle when she laughs or smiles really big. She hadn’t noticed me when I stood next to her, also waiting for my drink, there I took notice that she was at least three inches above me and that she sticks out her tongue when she is reading something. 
I breathed in and said loud enough for her to hear as she read, “I won’t tell your trainer if you don’t tell mine” I shook my little bag containing the coffee cake I had just ordered. I chuckled at the little jump she gave when she noticed me.
“Shit, sorry you scared me” a nervous laugh leaving her mouth
I extended my hand, “Sorry bout that. I’m Lucy, Lucy Bronze with England”  
She completed the handshake, “(y/n) (l/n) with the US…obviously” She pointed to her hat that had USA stitched on the back.
The conversation had good enough banter that we both remained at a table for about 2 hours talking about life and football. I could tell you that I fell for the way she looked at me with her gentle (y/e/c) eyes as she described the antics of her new golden retriever puppy named Chili she had adopted when she went to Portland.
I never really was intimidated or made nervous by any American player, especially on the pitch but watching her warm up with an icy cold expression during the She Believes Cup match made me question if the person I met at Tim Horton’s was the same person. 
I don’t think I was nervous but I lost count of how many times I would try to get a glimpse of her as she warmed up. Every time I did I’d feel the blush on my cheeks as I remembered the short text conversation that we had shortly after the World Cup. 
I regretted so much for not following up immediately; I got scared. If (y/n) asked me today why I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have known what to say to be honest. Lack of courage was what Jill had told me as Jordan patted my back while reading the messages.  
The moment that I finally gained the courage to message (y/n) on Instagram to invite her to Manchester for a visit, was the day when I saw the picture of Hayley Raso kissing her cheek at a friendly. It was the first thing I saw when I opened the app to message her.
I remember my stomach dropping like the feeling when you don’t feel the bottom of a pool. 
I had it all planned in my head that she’d accept and I had a mini itinerary in my head of things she would’ve enjoyed and sightseeing spots. But the photo of her with her face buried in Hayley’s neck as she hugged her made the feeling worse.
Raso had beat me to (y/n) and she didn’t even know it. I kicked myself for not being brave. I would’ve had her in my arms sooner. I tell her all the time that I fell for her immediately and from meeting her I wanted more of her every passing day. 
Just seeing her across the field filled me with the tucked away feelings I had for her. I remember thinking…What I would have given to be there again talking about the most mundane things over coffee. Hearing her try her hardest to tell a joke but failing as she laughs remembering the punch line or even unconsciously speaking with an English accent when we spoke… God, I really loved her for so long.
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nervoushottee · 7 months
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A Solemn Promise Ch. 2 | Joel Miller Fanfic
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Summary: The calm before the storm.
Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, morning sickness (let me know if I missed anything)
Series Masterlist
Note: We're getting closer and closer to Outbreak day hottees (kinda nervy, kinda excited to write ite)
---- ---- ---- ----
You didn’t have work today so when you got back, you slept for most of the day. 
Despite telling Joel you were okay with driving, and truth be told you were. But the baby clearly had other plans for you. The drive to school was 10-15 minutes, 20 if there’s traffic. But it felt like you had driven a whole 6 hours  from Austin to LA.
So you slipped off your shoes and plopped right back into bed and slept off the drive. 
You woke up a few hours later and did a few chores you had wanted to do earlier.  You also wrapped the gift you bought for Joel. It wasn’t much, something small that Joel would have the least hard time accepting. Any time you tried to give him a gift, whether it was for a holiday or just because, it always took a lot of convincing on your end for Joel to take it.  You could already hear his voice now, “You, Sarah and this baby we got is a gift in itself.”
You heard the sound of Mrs. Adler from the open kitchen window as you put your tomato soup in the microwave. Sarah must’ve arrived at the neighbors. You made a mental note to walk over there and save the girl a bit early then the time Mrs. Adler usually keeps her for. 
Tomato soup and grilled cheese was the only thing you could think about after your nap. But from Joel forgetting bread as well as pancake mix, you opted just for the soup.
You ate your food slowly. Afraid of kickstarting the wave of nausea that turns into puking for  later on that night.  With this being your first pregnancy, all of these symptoms were new to you. Yea you’ve had your period and nausea isn’t something that surprises you. But never has it been to the point of throwing up so consistently.  
You had cravings as quickly as you had aversions. Coffee had been the first thing you had aversions for. Even the smell caused you to throw up. 
 Despite Joel's immense love for it, he kept anything coffee related out of the house for weeks until it went away. Even with the aversion gone, you still couldn’t drink the black liquid. 
Once you were  finished, you tidied your mess and  walked over to The Adler’s house. 
You give  the screen door a knock before announcing yourself to the people inside before walking in. You followed the sound of Mrs.Adler into the kitchen, passing by to Mrs. Adler's mother who sat in the wheelchair in the living room. 
For a split second in your peripheral vision, you could’ve sworn you saw her move. Which would be impossible, given that she couldn’t do much of it. Before you could take any more time to think about it, you hear your name being called. 
“Come on in, us ladies are in the kitchen.” Mrs. Adler said. 
You entered the kitchen with a smile, seeing Sarah’s  eyes gleam with happiness for the escape. Sarah greets you and you playfully pinch her side so she wouldn’t laugh. Knowing that Sarah was only smiling so brightly because you were here to “rescue” her. 
“Hi Mrs. Adler, how are you doing?”you say
The gray haired woman smiled, “Oh dear I’m okay, but I should be asking you and that bun in your oven that.”
Sarah’s eyes widened at the comment as she looked at you. You raised your eyebrows and simply smiled at the pregnant comment. “I’m doing just fine. But would you mind If I snag Sarah from you now?  There’s a few things in the house I need help with.” you say while placing your hands on top of Sarah’s shoulders. 
“Oh sure darling but you guys are taking some cookies with you.” Mrs. Adler said. 
After receiving the tupperware of cookies, you and Sarah walked out of the house. Sarah slid her hands through the sprinklers and flicked droplets on you in the process. You turned to the preteen with a gasp.
“Cookie?” Sarah said immediately after, trying to hide the smile she had from splashing her. 
You thought for a second, “Is it chocolate chip?”
“Raisin.” Sarah said. 
“Absolutely not.” You didn’t hesitate to say, getting a hefty chuckle from the girl next to her.
The sudden noise of fighter jets pass through the sky. Making you both look up at the loud noise. 
“I wonder what those are for.” Sarah states as you look at the sky. 
You shrug your shoulders, “Probably routine, nothing too serious to worry about.”
Sarah nods to your response and you playfully push her forward to keep on walking back to the house. 
As she walks in front of you, you look back up at the sky. The jets now gone, simply leaving smoke in the sky. Despite telling Sarah not to worry, you couldn’t help but wonder why flighter jets were randomly flying around. 
You shake your head from the thought. Not wanting to stress yourself out too much as the two of you walk the rest of the way back to the house. 
Sarah telling you that she was going to put her book bag down and get out of her shoes before helping you with dinner. 
You go over to the kitchen looking in the pantry, fridge and freezer for anything the both of you could make for Joel’s birthday. You grabbed two options and stared at both of them in thought as you heard Sarah footsteps down the stairs. 
“So we have two options. We can do steak and veggies or chicken and veggies.” you say to her. Holding each frozen pack of meat in  hand. Sarah hummed in thought, “I’m think more steak since its his birthday but-”
“But the last time we attempted to cook steak it was like we killed his first dog.” you say, the both of you smiling at the memory of serving Joel the burnt steak. 
He was so sweet and thankful for the nice gesture but you can see it in his eyes how heartbroken that the piece of meat was almost burnt to a crisp. 
“Chicken it is then.” Sarah says with a chuckle. She takes the steak packet out of your hands and places it back in the freezer. The two of you start prepping for dinner. Cutting up the veggies, thawing the meat and snacking and talking about anything and everything as you both waited for Joel’s arrival.
— — — —
Hours go by until you hear the sound of Joel’s arrival. Keys jamming through the old front door. 
“You locked the door for once. Good job.” He said.
“It’s ten.” Sarah stated to her father who walked over to sit next to her on the couch. 
“I know.” Joel groaned, covering his eyes with his hands, “They gave us the wrong size for the headers.”
Sarah simply stares at her father as her reaction to his reasoning for being so late. 
The man took off his work boots looking at his daughter, “That doesn’t mean anything to you, I’m sorry.” 
“Where’s the cake?” Sarah asked, brushing off his other statement. Joel pauses, remembering their conversation earlier that morning. 
“Shit.” Joel swore, Sarah grumbled in disappointment. “Come on man.” 
“I’ll get us one tomorrow I promise. Where’s-.” he started to ask for you.  
“Bathroom… Swear, or you don’t get your present?” Sarah says to her father. Staring at him a bit bummed at the absence of cake. 
Joel perked up,“You got me a present?”. Joel excited but shocked at how Sarah got him something. 
“Swear.” Sarah pressed.
“On my life.” Joel whispered to his daughter, Sarah grinned then reached for the present that was under the couch cushion. 
“Wow.” Joel said when he took the box from Sarah. He opened his gift to see his broken, now fixed, watch. He looks up at Sarah in disbelief. 
“Fixed it for you.” Sarah said to him proudly. 
Joel took it out of the box with a furrow in his eyebrows. He held the watch up to his ear. 
“Did you?”
“What?” Sarah’s heart drops, thinking that the man at the shop didn’t fix the watch properly after being rushed to close so soon. She grabbed her father’s wrist to bring the watch closer to her.
Seeing that the watch was in fact working and Joel was messing with her, she playfully pushed his hand away. “That was lame, You’re lame.”Sarah laughed.
“Yeah, I know.” Joel admitted. 
Joel looked over to see you  walking into the living room. Scratching the back over your head, your  shirt rides up over your  stomach lightly from raising your arm. Your  belly peeking out to say hello.
“You knew about this?” he asked you, lifting the watch in his hands. 
You  smiled as you walked over to the leather love seat that was diagonally to the couch the father and daughter sat on.“All I knew was that she had a gift for you but didn’t know what.”
Joel turned back to his daughter, “Where’d you get the money then for this?”
“Drugs.” Sarah stated. “I sell hardcore drugs.” 
“Mmm. It’s better when I do.” he replied back to her as he started to put the watch on his wrist. 
Giving up the funny act Sarah looked over at you who nodded your head. You both knew Joel wouldn’t be mad, but it was still a wonderful feeling for you that Sarah looked at you for reassurance. 
“It was only twenty dollars, which I stole from you.” she admitted.
Joel looked at her with a smile growing on his face in shock. He leaned back into the couch to listen to her confession. “I could’ve stolen sixty but I put the change back because I’m an honest thief.” Sarah said. 
You nodded your  head in confirmation, “It’s true, she’s got a witness to the act and everything.”
Truth be told, You were just a few seconds too early going into her and Joel’s bedroom and saw Sarah placing a few bills back in the top drawer. 
Despite the two of them knowing that you saw Sarah,  you simply just asked if she was hungry. Since dinner wouldn’t be ready for a little while and you both could have a snack. You  knew Sarah was honest and true so there was no need to be suspicious. 
Curious? Sure, but suspicious? Never.
Joel gave her a long grateful look, “Thank you.” Truly meaning the words. 
“Oh, there's one more.” You say out loud which makes Sarah gasp softly in remembrance. 
 She hands Joel the borrowed DvD from The Adlers.
 “Oh, this is the one with the deleted scenes.” Joel said excitedly. 
“Pop it in, while it’s still your birthday.”  Sarah said to him and Joel didn’t hesitate to.
When he starts the movie playing on the tv and going to sit back on the couch. He stands over to where you're sitting. 
“What the hell are you sitting over here for?” Joel says jokingly. 
You playfully roll  your eyes. Before you could get a word out of a reason why, Joel grabs your and slightly pulls on your hand to make you stand up. He had only pulled softly at first, if you said no or pushed away from his pull. He would let go and respect your space if you needed it. But you had simply sat across from them to not ruin the moment of Sarah’s give she’s probably been planning for a while. 
You stand up with a playful huff as Joel quickly places a kiss on your hand that he pulled. His hand still in yours he walks over to the couch where Sarah still sat. She pats the spot next to her for the two of you to sit. Sarah smiles as her eyes flicker between the two of you. 
Joel sits in the middle between you and Sarah. After finally getting adjusted Joel turns on the tv and presses play. The three of them get comfortable. You sink more into the couch,  hugging your  cardigan closer to yourself as you lean your head against Joel’s shoulder. Sarah snuggled up to Joel who leaned back more into the couch.
 “Don’t fall asleep.” he says. 
“Course I won’t, it’s too riveting. Someone else on the other hand.” she says with a smile as she moves her head softly to stare at you. 
Joel turns to look over at you also and you shake your head. who shook her head, “I can’t make any promises.”
— — — — —
One hour into the movie and Sarah is fast asleep. 
You had whispered to Joel about ten minutes ago that you were going to go have a shower. It helps sometimes when you feel a bit queasy.  So it left with just the birthday man himself to be sitting on the couch staring at the tv screen in front of him with attentive eyes. 
  His phone buzzed against the coffee table. Joel confused, looked at his newly fixed watch to check the time. ‘Who would be calling this late?’, he thought to himself. 
Joel knew the answer to that question already. He just hoped that whoever was on the line wasn’t going to call with bad news. He hoped he wasn’t jinxing himself as he  reaches for his phone to answer it. 
“Hello?”
“Joel, it’s me. Uh, I’m okay.” Tommy says with hesitation in his voice.
“Yeah?” he urges  Tommy to continue. “But I’m in jail.” he replies back. 
He jinxed himself, Joel thinks. Hoping for this phone call not to have bad news but received it anyway. “Goddammit.” He sighs as he leans back into the couch, rubbing his face in frustration.
“Wasn’t my fault this time! I was at the bar and some guy went crazy and started  swinging on the waitress. I stepped in, knocked him out and the cops showed up.”
Joel didn’t even want to hear what excuse Tommy had this time. It wasn’t anything new for the older brother to bail the younger brother out of jail so late in the night. He just wasn’t expecting it to be the night of his birthday. But Joel jinxed himself, he’s sure he did. 
“Look it doesn’t fucking matter , you just gotta bail me out.” Tommy says to him. 
“Now?” Joel whispers a bit loudly. He looks down to his sleeping daughter hoping that he didn’t wake her up. 
“It’s Friday.  You don’t get me out tonight, I'm here all weekend. It’s a fucking madhouse Joel. I gotta get out.” Tommy pleads with desperation. 
Joel sighs for what almost feels like the twentieth time. After confirming which jail Tommy was hold up in, Joel tells him that he’ll be there soon. 
He hangs up with a sigh,“Fuckin’ idiot.”
He looks down at his still sleeping daughter. Who’s oblivious to the phone call he just had. After shutting off the tv, Joel gently picked his daughter up in his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. 
He pulls the covers over Sarah before placing a kiss on her head. 
You walked out the bathroom, the steam from your hot shower seeping into the hallway as you   rub a small towel against your hair. You see Joel slowly closing Sarah’s bedroom door. 
You saw the frustration in his face and the smile you  just had for him was wiped away with concern. “You okay?”
Joel  turned to you. He can still see the bathroom mirror fogged from your shower. Your hair was still damp and you had changed into like gray sweats and a peach colored  t shirt.
He sighed with a nod, “Tommy’s in jail, I gotta go get him.” 
Your eyes widen, “Right now?” you ask.
Joel laughed humorlessly. It was ironic that you had said the same thing he did when he first received the news from Tommy. “ If I don’t then he’ll be there all weekend and none of us is going to hear the end of it.” he says. 
You chuckled lightly and hum in agreement as you place the now damp towel across one of your shoulders. You  grabbed his arm and softly tugged him into a hug in which he very much needed. 
He sighed into the hug, his tensed shoulders relaxing as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You rubbed his back softly, the same  way he does to you when you need it. 
“Be careful.” You mumble against his shirt.
“Mhm.” he grumbles back, his eyes closed as Joel kisses the top of your shoulder. 
The two of you  stay like that for a minute more. ‘Tommy wasn’t going anywhere’, Joel had thought to himself, and he had really needed this hug. 
And if he would’ve known better. If he would have known of the events that were to come just moments after this one. He would’ve  held onto you longer.
“Try to get some sleep, yeah?” Joel says to you as he pulls away. His hands still on your waist and your hands rubbing his arms up and down.  “I’ll try, hopefully she’ll let me.”  
You nudge your head to indicate you were talking about the bundle of joy between you both. 
Joel smiles. He crouches briefly  down to give your stomach a quick kiss. You jolt at the sudden sensation but smile nonetheless. “Let your mom get some rest.” he kissed your stomach again before you pulled him up into another hug. 
You kiss his lips a few times before speaking.  “I love you.”  
He stares down at your with hooded eyes, smiling ever so softly at your loving words. 
Joel doesn’t say anything at for a few moments. He just simply stares at you. You furrow your eyebrows briefly in his stare but he continues to do so. Joel just can’t help but look at you and feel joy. He couldn’t believe he managed to get someone as great and as beautiful as you. 
He didn’t think you would want to even still be with him in the beginning. Let alone you wanting to have a child with him. “I have something for ya.” Joel says  to you softly.
You perked up at his statement, your eyes widened. “ I thought it was your birthday. I’’m supposed to be giving something to you. Which I do have by the way, I’ll just give it to you when you get back.” 
He adjusts his hand against your waist to push himself even closer into you. The two of you now so close that your chests are pressed together.  to get her a bit closer if he even could.
“Well it’s a gift for me and for you.” He simply says to her, thinking about the small jewlery box burning a hole in his front pocket.
He had been thinking about it for a while. Months even but just never thought of the right time to do it. Every idea he had, he would plan it in his head and when he thought it was the perfect time. Something would come up and interfere. But he was sure he was going to do it tonight. Once he got back from getting Tommy he’d ask you. Maybe even in the morning he can hold out long enough. 
You squint your eyes at him suspiciously but Joel doesn’t budge. Stiill staring at you with a lovestruck  smile.
“Fine.” You say, giving up being curious.
“We’ll exchange them when you get back.” 
He kisses you  quickly before stating. “Mine is better the yours.” You laugh at his bluntness,  lightly hitting his shoulder. “That’s nice to hear.”
Joel smiles before kissing you one more time. “I love you too.” He kisses your cheek and reminds you  to get some rest before he walks down the stairs to go and get his brother. 
*limited editing*
 — — — — — 
-please comment and reblog! I loved reading and responding to you guys on the first chapter. It really helps <;3-
taglist: @drewharrisonwriter @givemeth
(Comment if you want to be added to the taglist. I hope I'm doing this right)
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sunofpandora · 10 months
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So I watched avatar 1 with my native mother.
As goofy as this sounded it really was a heart warming experience…
Because it's really amazing go watch someone fall in love with Pandora for the first time.
And she was very skeptical, claiming she “didn’t like sci-fi”
But, she ended up loving it.
Here were some of the things she thought:
1. She said that Na’vi culture has many parallels to actual native and ancient culture, including the belief that our hair actually is an extension of our body and nervous system, (which is why my mother, who believes that her hair is a symbol of her strength, and spirit, doesn't ever cut her hair)
2. She kept calling Mo’at the “alpha female”
3. Was IN LOVE with Eytukan’s design and and outfit.
4. Called Jake Sully “the white boy who didn’t get enough love from his grandma”
5. Was APPALLED at the way they held a bow and arrow.
6. Was super happy when Jake finally learned how to ride a dire horse.
7. Was also laughing when he fell off the direhorse.
8. Every time Jake and Tsu’tey came on screen she said “those two are always having a pissing race”
9. Called Quaritch, and Selfridge “colonizer 1, and colonizer 2”
10. Thought Jake looked “cute” with his little braids he had for the movie before the final battle.
11. Gasped and started squealing happily when she saw an Ikran for the first time
12. Everytime Quaritch came on screen it was “can someone shoot this guy already?”
13. Cried when hometree was destroyed.
14. Kept asking me “do they win?”
15. Said “he's so elegant” when he was falling to his death after claiming his I ran on the first flight.
16. I thought it was interesting when she said “RDA is less or a reflection of the military, and more of corporate America”
17. When Jake got captured in the beginning where we first see Tsu’tey, when the warriors arrive on their horses, she said “oh shit. He brought the whole fam with him”
18. Was a but freaked out by the 4 fingers.
19. Was screaming when Trudy was fighting alongside the na’vi
20. Cried when Trudy died
21. They entire concept of the RDA using guns on the na’vi and forcing them out of their home made her say “Now, where have we seen this before?”
22. Was freaked out by the size difference.
23. When jake got lost in the forest, she said,
“It's like loosing a kid on a field trip.”
24:
All in all, rated it a 12/10 and I'm watching the second one with her on Thursday ❤️
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kawaikylian · 1 year
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A TWO PACK fanfic for my amorcitos 😮‍💨•njr
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CUDDLE ME BABY•njr
Fluff
Wrote this one a long time ago enjoy!
Neymar wasn’t always home, busy at games or training, but when he was he’d be asleep snoring right beside you, it’d leave you mesmerized having his presence right beside you possibly dreaming about you .
You were tired but needed Neymar’s arms around you, it was 9:34 and Neymar had a big meeting right after practice, he said he’d come at 9:30!, you texted billions of times waiting for an answer but got none, it was now 9:50 and you were to tired you didn’t hear the door open and footsteps coming up into your room.
Everything sounded blurry if that makes sense but you heard the water faucet turn on realizing Neymar was brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed, yours eyes lit up and you jumped out the bed “Neymar!” He must’ve heard you after he finished brushing his teeth because he turned back to you “your awake baby!” He runs hugging you.
He lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist as you give him millions of neck kisses “I missed you so much” he says and you let go off his neck to glance at him for a sec, “why didn’t you answer my messages” he laughs, he lets you down and goes to grab his bag leaving you confused.
As he does he pulls out a completely broken phone “Kylian thought it would be funny to grab my phone and run away, he dropped it” I gasp, “oh shit, I was so worried for you baby when you wouldn’t answer” you wrap your arms around his body, your head only reaches to his chest, you stand still for a second “I just needed to hug you for a second”.
“Let’s go to bed Lindinha” he says kissing the top of your head grabbing at your ass, he picks you up bridal style, he carefully places your body onto the mattress, he lays his body next to yours, with his other hand he uses it to wrap a soft blanket around the both of you.
“Cuddle me baby”.
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TE EXTRANO•njr
Fluff
No,you and Neymar hadn’t been away from each other for too long, it just so happens the entire day you had been unable to see each other,Neymar was busy training and now had a game, you were in the stands cheering for him, a long side was davi and neymars sister Rafaella, you missed him deeply.
Rafaella had assured you everything would be fine, finally came halftime and your eyes gleamed seeing Neymar walking into the tunnel, then there you realized you could go see him.
“Ney!” You run jumping into his arms the other of his arm grabbing at your waist pressing you deeply, you head “wooos” in attempt to tease.”te extrañe tanto mi amorcito”, “eu também linda” he says kissing at your neck, you let go and he goes to hug his sister and his son, you smile, “davi go pose with your dad and let me take a picture!”, Neymar picks him up leading to davi posing with a funny smile.
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Pertend he’s wearing whatever jersey you want<3
The camera clicks and leaves you and rafaella smiling and squealing at how adorable davi was, “oh my god! Send me that!” She says and you nod,it’s been 10 minutes of you all talking and meeting up with everyone, “baby I have to go now, te amo” he says kissing you on the lips delicately, you have a warm smile telling him to go on.
You feel like crying when he leaves but you can’t do anything about it.
10 minutes into the game and Neymar scores leaving you screaming as loud as you can “LETS GOOO!!!!” You, davi, and rafaella all scream at the same time waving your Brazilian flags, there’s a huge screen in the stadium.
You take a glance at Neymar before taking a full closer look, you see him throwing a kiss at you, right at you, specifically at you, he doesn’t do it to the screen, he still finds your figure, considering how far away you both were he still found you.
He points at you at first and then sends a imaginary kiss, you smile and pretend as if your head over heels for the camera,the moment goes on the news and social media goes wild the first 20 minutes, after the game you find your way towards Neymar.
You hug him “I’m so proud of you baby” you say kissing his lips , “ I wouldn’t be kissing you so delicately right now but there’s too much people” you say in his ear making him blush, you had never seen him blush so hard.
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brian-in-finance · 4 months
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Video 📹 from YouTube photo shoot BTS forJuly 2018 Irish Tatler
Instagram cover and contents video 📹
Facebook Watch fun Q&A video 📹
Outlander-Online Instagram Story screenshot 📸
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Screenshots: Caitríona Balfe Fan
time for more
Caitríona Balfe talks to Shauna O'Halloran about time-travel, wedding plans and why women have had enough of Hollywood's shitty behaviour (her words, not ours).
A pair of stonewashed Levi's 501s, flat white converse and a little white T-shirt are all that Caitríona Balfe needs to rock up to a day's shooting in North London, and still have a full crew comment on how beautiful she is in real life. It's never something I like to lead with in interviews - we're here to discover the person, after all - but I do feel that to not mention it would be a shame, because she is quite stunning, even when off-duty. It's not that much of a surprise of course. The Monaghan native was once one of the most sought after runway models in the world, having been spotted by a Ford Models scout in Dublin. At 18, she was opening and closing shows in Paris for Chanel, Moschino, Givenchy and Louis Vuitton, to name a few. And this humble glossy is just one of many she's graced the cover of - with Vogue, Harper's Bazaar and Elle magazines all having starred Caitriona over the years. So no wonder there was literally not one bad shot to be found in the photographer's edit.
Today however, Caitríona Balfe is known best to most of the world as Claire Beauchamp Randall - Outlander's time travelling 1950s nurse who falls for a dashing highland warrior by the name of Jamie Fraser, played by her costar Sam Heughan. The show, now on series four, is based on a series of novels by Diana Gabaldon and to say it has mega fandom is an understatement. Having taken up acting after her modelling career, Outlander was Caitriona's first major role and has propelled her into a stratosphere with over five million viewers per episode. How, I wonder, is that?
"It's been such a wild ride!" She tells me as we sit down to interview. She's back filming in Scotland for her fourth season and we already know that seasons five and six are a go, so Claire is going to be part of Caitriona's life for some time to come. "I was cast late into the proceedings. I got cast on the 11th of September and I was in Scotland [for fittings and filming] on the 15th of September 2013. I guess I knew about two days before they announced it!" She says of the whirlwind entry into Outlander. It didn't take long, however, for Caitríona to realise the scope her new role was going to have.
"After we filmed about four episodes Sam and I were taken to LA and we did a fan event. Nobody had seen anything and there was over two thousand people at this fan event...having not seen one minute of footage. We came out on stage and everyone was just screaming!"
The core fan base has stuck with them as the seasons have gone on and Outlander has won multiple awards. Caitríona, too, has been widely recognised for her role with 20 plus nominations and a host of Best Actress wins from institutions like the People's Choice Awards, the Golden Globes, the Saturn Awards, IFTA and BAFTA.
One of the notable points of the drama series is the sparky on-screen chemistry between her and Heughan during their many steamy scenes together. So much so that people have had a hard time believing that they're not a couple in real life. No matter how much the actors insist.
"It's nice that people kind of see something in that, but you know, we've always just been friends. And I said it from the beginning but people didn't want to hear it!"
Even so, it must be hard after four years of filming sexy scenes with someone to not get embroiled in a romance of some description.
"We went for a walk," Caitríona explains on how the deal was cut early on. "Both of us had to go to London right before we had to start filming, I was getting my second perm of the week and he was getting his hair dyed, probably for the 15th time that month and we met down in Kensington and went on a big long walk in the park. I was there with my poodle perm and he was there with some kind of terrible ginger-red version of his hair and we were like, You know what, who knows what this is going to be but we're going to be in this together and we gotta have each other's backs.' And from that time on we always have." A sweet moment that has led to a lasting friendship and has probably been key to Outlander's success.
"The shows that have been successful - I think you always see that they stick together. The minute you let ego or your pride or all of that kind of stuff get in the way, I think that it can really sour things," she says with honesty. It has to be said, there is no ego about Caitríona Balfe and as the lead role in the show, it's easy to imagine that she sets the tone for all involved.
The atmosphere on set, she says is supportive and tight, although she's painfully aware that not all hit shows and Hollywood sets are so lucky.
"Our work is really tough and we're in tough conditions, like when you're out in the pissing rain or sideways snow, which happens! To have people be supportive of each other and care about each other, that makes such a huge difference.
"I know somebody who worked on a show as the lead male and he and the lead female never spoke, literally didn't speak to each other unless they were in a scene. I can't imagine ever wanting to be in a situation like that, I can't imagine waking up in the morning and feeling like I have to go to work with someone who won't even speak to me. That's horrible."
But the stories are rife; even before #MeToo broke, celebrities and bad behaviour on set seemed to go hand in hand. And it makes for great, salacious tabloid fodder. And women, notoriously, seem to get the raw end of the deal, in everything from respect standards to salaries.
"I think everybody's waking up to the fact that they can't get away with that stuff," Caitríona chips in. "I obviously came to this point of my life a bit later so I've always felt very comfortable about standing up for myself or speaking up for myself but there can be a bit of a double standard. But I don't think, I mean I will stress this, it's not always men enforcing that. We've had male directors or male producers who are so much more sensitive and supportive than sometimes the females can be. I don't necessarily think that it's a split line down the middle about sex; it's not all women supporting women because that's not my experience. I think it's really about people." And does it hurt more, when it's a woman being the unsupportive one?
"Yeah, I think you expect better. And I think sometimes they think because they're women they don't think they're being discriminatory, but if what you're asking is completely out of line..."
In the hierarchical worlds of modelling and acting, people entering the careers at the bottom rungs are more vulnerable to mistreatment.
Caitríona notes that she did experience it in particular as a young model and her first career left her with some healing to do.
"I remember one of my first ever photoshoots in Dublin. I was so young and I remember coming back from it and my sister was like 'Where have you been all day?' I was just being sent off with a strange photographer who was older and with no kind of knowledge about where I was going, what was expected, just sort of thrown out to the wolves at 18."
It was that age that she first began travelling too, to Paris and Milan, and with little to no support structure. "It's just incredible when I look back now at how I navigated all of that because you literally are just sent off on your own, traipsing around strange cities where you don't know the language. You are just expected to fend for yourself.
"It was the wild west and you were lucky if you had a job. There was a discrepancy of power - the agency was really supposed to be there protecting you, but it was almost like you needed to please them to get the jobs.
"I think that's why so many girls who have gone through that experience are as tough as nails," she adds, also referring to herself, although that toughness hasn't come without cost.
"When I left the business, I moved to LA and I am so grateful that I was able to take a year...a lot of that was just dismantling a lot of the mental issues I had taken from the business because your confidence and your self-esteem is in the toilet after you've been in that business for so long. Most models I know have terrible self-esteem which is the most crazy thing."
Thankfully, in both modelling and acting, the industries are changing.
As someone who is in the Hollywood stratosphere and has been in the company of the likes of Weinstein and more, Caitríona has first-hand experience of being with the people at the very centre of the #MeToo storm.
"A lot of my year in LA was just dismantling a lot of the mental issues I had taken from the business"
"A lot of the names that have come forward, it's strange because you kind of go 'Oh yeah, that's not surprising.' With someone like Morgan Freeman; I grew up watching him and he's been that voice that calms everyone. But I had previously heard rumours. Nobody is above the law and what I do hope is that all of these things go through a process because I think the worst thing is that we get into this situation where there is like a mob mentality and we start being judge, jury and executioner on social media because that's never the right way of doing things.
"But I think there has been a real shift and I think people aren't going to put up with shitty behaviour anymore. And they shouldn't."
The one thing that high profile and influence does afford people is the ability to shine a light on situations that deserve more attention. It's something that Caitríona’s very aware of and since her Outlander fans have always asked 'who can we support on your behalf', she went out of her way to discover a charity that she could be an ambassador for. As a result, she is now a patron of Wold Child Cancer and travelled to Ghana last year to see two of the hospitals the charity works at. "It's very humbling when you see the different kinds of care you can expect if anything ever goes wrong in your life just because of where you are born," she says of the experience but is equally quick to downplay her role as a patron versus that of the people working on the ground, despite using her own time and profile to raise awareness and funds for the charity. "I feel so grateful that I can, the people in the trenches are the people who do work day-to-day and it's super impressive because they don't get a lot of credit for it."
Check Caitríona’s Twitter and you'll see how impassioned she is about this, as well as being a big supporter of other issues: she was vocal on repeal, supports ethical fashion choices and promotes a meat and dairy-free lifestyle.
"I believe that no matter what you do you should be a responsible citizen of the world," she says, "I think a lot of my social media is promoting issues I believe in and causes that I believe in.
“As for my more private life, frankly I'm not interesting so I don't like doing selfies, my partner is super private so he isn't on any social media and doesn't want to be so nothing is said about him. So yeah, that's naturally how I am!"
It's clear as the conversation goes on how grounded Caitríona is. She's fiercely proud of her Irishness and uses it as a conversation starter worldwide (*We command goodwill - people genuinely like us!") and while she laments how badly her name gets 'butchered' she misses the fada which she dropped for ease some years ago. "I'm devastated about it!" she says, before also confessing that technology had some part to play in its demise.
"In the early days of computers I didn't know how to put it on! I just learnt a couple of months ago, like ohhh it's that button there. So I might bring the fada back."
And she hasn't ruled out an upcoming wedding in Ireland - the actress is recently engaged to intensely private music producer Tony McGill, but plans for the nuptials are still undecided. Would she consider coming back to Ireland to tie the knot?
"If you put a sun lamp over it, yeah I'd love to!" She laughs. Wedding planning is not really her thing however, and doesn't garner giddy chats and wishlists.
"I would just love to have all of my friends and family and have a great party," she clarifies when coming across as less than enthusiastic about planning her perfect day. "I think the production side of it is just too much like work!"
And finding time that suits both their schedules is also proving challenging, with Caitríona lined up to film in LA with Matt Damon and Christian Bale. It's a biopic of mechanic and driver Ken Miles (Bale) and the conflict between Ford and Ferrari during the 1960s. "I play Christian Bale's wife and James Mangold [Walk the Line, Logan, The Wolverine) is directing. It's set in the sixties, it's all about Le Mans, the 24-hour race so it's a lot of fast cars, hot men and me!" She laughs. "I've been watching loads of documentaries on Le Mans which is really cool."
And this is Caitríona: totally unfazed, seemingly, by the prospect of working with some of Hollywood's most famous actors and directors and yet, nerdily researching so she can be prepared on the day. Oh, and consciously enjoying it too. With more projects in the pipeline, that demand is only going to get higher, but of one thing I can be sure: to her own self, Caitríona Balfe will always be true.
Remember… we command goodwill - people genuinely like us! ☘️ — Caitríona Balfe
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faiirybread · 1 year
Text
undercover martyn︴ln4
⏳ in which..a girl streams to help her mom get better
CHAP. 1
❝and she spoke words that would melt in your hands ❞
march 03, 2023
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📍massachusetts institute of technology
“thats all for today everyone, we’re gonna end a bit early, if you have any questions about the assignment email me after class.” the teacher said, wrapping up his lecture. y/n sighed, putting her laptop away, and gathering her pencils.
“y/n! wanna work together on the project?” her classmate, isabelle, asked. “yeah, sure! i have like, no ideas for it so that would be great.” y/n says with a smile. “awesome! i’ll text you.”
y/n finished packing up and walked out of the class, heading to the parking lot so she could go home, when she got a call from an unknown number. normally she would decline them, but something in her mind was telling her that she needed to pick it up.
so she did. she answered the call with a “hello?”
“hello, is this y/n y/ln?”
“yes, this is she. may i ask who’s calling?”
“this is charlotte, from florida hospital, we’re calling to inform you that sophie y/ln is here, you are on her form as an emergency contact.”
when she heard that, y/n gasped, “oh my gosh, is she ok?”
“she is being given medicine right now, but she requested that you come.”
“of course, thank you so much, ill be there asap.” she said, turning on her car and driving to the airport.
“thank you, have a nice day.”
“you too.” she hung up and kept driving, scenarios of what might’ve happened to her mom running through her head, until she pulled over.
head in her hands and gasping for breath, y/n started crying. crying because she was scared of her mom leaving her, just like her dad had, just like her friends had, but her mom never had.
and she needed to make sure she wouldn’t.
so, y/n pulled the car back on the road and drove to the airport, rushing in to find a kiosk that would sell her a ticket. she went to tsa, and upon seeing the extra security mark on her ticket, they pulled her aside for further screening.
after about 10 minutes of uncomfortable questions and searches, y/n finally got to her gate. which meant she had 20 more minutes of worrying before she could get on the plane. in the meantime, she pulled out her phone and started emailing her professors, explaining that she had a family emergency and would be absent for at least that day. as she had gotten a ticket so last minute, she was in the back of the line and had to squeeze into a middle seat.
after an hour squeezed in between two people in quite possibly the smallest seat ever, y/n got off the plane and called an uber to take her to the hospital. it pulled up quickly, and she got in.
“so, headed to the hospital?” the driver checked, looking at her in his mirror.
“yes, please.” she smiled to the driver and put on her seatbelt. “can you go fast, please? its my mom, i want to make sure she’s ok.”
he nodded and started driving, weaving in between traffic and quite possibly speeding at some points, but y/n didn’t mind. she needed to get to her mom, even if it meant she was in a bed next to her.
as soon as he pulled up to the drop-off area, she jumped out, and waved to him as a thank you. running into the hospital, she got in line to the front desk.
time seemed to pass slowly, seconds lasting minutes, minutes lasting hours, all the while her mind was running with possibilities.
what if she got in an accident? maybe she fell down the stairs? or burned herself cooking?
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LUX’S NOTE..
welcome to undercover martyn! i hope you all enjoy (: im so sorry about the ending lmao, they have never been my strong suit. hopefully throughout this they get better though!
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isawthisangel · 2 years
Text
Professor (Steven Grant x reader)
word count -> 5.2k
plot summary -> your egyptology professor is HOT
a/n -> i finally got round to writing this, as requested by @propertyofkingvalkyrie , hope you enjoy the shameless unedited indulgence that is this fic <3 (also my new @ is isawthisangel, changed from isawanangell)
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Autumn. The start of term, the start of your final year at university in London.
You walked into the lecture hall and cast about the room for your friends, your gaze falling instead on the man stood at the front of the room. He smiled at you, and immediately your heart shot up into your throat. He was gorgeous.
You’d flashed him a smile in return, praying that your expression was one of utter neutrality, and made your way to the left-hand side of the room where a few of your friends were sat huddled together, your thoughts still very much with the man at the front of the lecture hall. Who is he?
‘Hey. You look like you’ve taken something. Have you taken something?’ Annabel asks you, by way of greeting. You hit her lightly with your bag as you sit down.
‘I haven’t taken anything. Don’t be stupid,’ you reply.
‘She looks fine to me,’ Monica comments, squinting across at you.
‘Nah, she’s all glassy-eyed.’
‘She is fine. Shut up,’ you say, pulling your laptop out and opening it up, using it as an excuse to peek over the screen at the man again. He’s still handsome.
‘Oh Lord, she’s got a crush on the professor,’ Annabel sighs, and you flush red before her words actually sink in. 
‘I have not – wait, what? Did you say profess-’
‘Okay, let’s start. Good mornin’ everyone, I’m Professor Grant and I’ll be your Egyptology professor for this term.’
Even his voice was attractive. You sank a little lower in your seat, and Annabel raised an eyebrow next to you. How were you supposed to concentrate now? You were going to fail the unit for sure.
You’re hopeless, Annabel typed on her screen.
What’s that supposed to mean?, you typed on yours.
Crushing on the professor two minutes into the lecture, she typed, and you could see her annoying smirk out of the corner of your eye.
I’m not crushing on anyone
Sure.
I’m NOT, and besides
‘Excuse me, Miss Y/L/N, Miss Clarke.’
The name of your last name in his mouth made you jump almost violently, and your finger flew to the backspace button on your keyboard.
‘While I appreciate the enthusiasm, there’s no need for notetakin’ quite just yet,’ he told you, his gaze fixed so directly on you that you felt as though you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor.
Willing your face not to go red, you tried to remember how to form words with your mouth. Everyone was looking at you.
‘Sorry, Professor,’ you said, mortified. Annabel stayed silent next to you.
He continued the lecture, and you sat very still, practically buzzing with embarrassment. Half an hour later, when notetaking was apparently now acceptable, you heard a muffled giggle from Monica, and turned to look in her direction.
Written on Annabel’s screen: Bet you £20 Y/N tries to come on to him by the end of term.
You aimed a kick at her under the table.
September passed in a daze of auburn leaves swirling in the wind and thinking about Egyptology a lot more than was maybe necessary, and by the time October arrived the course was really getting underway.
You promised yourself that you wouldn’t let your stupid crush get in the way of your course; the thought of doing badly on assignments because of your feelings was just ridiculous. That didn’t stop a small firework display from going off in your stomach every time your professor made eye contact with you for more than five seconds, though.
One week you’d worked up the courage to ask him a question at the end of class (‘Oh, yeah? What about?’ Annabel had smirked), and it had taken every ounce of concentration you possessed to speak to him coherently without losing your train of thought.
‘Thanks, Professor,’ you’d said afterwards.
‘Call me Steven,’ he’d told you, offering up a small smile, and you swear you’d forgotten how to breathe for a full minute afterwards.
It’s not that you were trying to sabotage your grades, but you got it into your head that maybe, just maybe, he was looking at you in the same way that you were looking at him.
The days were drawing in, the clocks went back, and it rained almost every day. The Friday before Halloween you walked into class in a pleated skirt, platform boots, and polo neck jumper, shaking out an umbrella which dripped all over the floor, raindrops clinging to your bare legs.
Chancing a half glance at Steven as you walked by, you caught his gaze flying away from your legs as your head turned. You spent the rest of the day feeling quite giddy with satisfaction.
November arrived alongside an onslaught of assignments, which required more time spent on campus, something which might have annoyed you if there wasn’t a chance of seeing a certain professor at any given time.
In lectures, you were finding it increasingly hard to concentrate.
He’s not even that good looking, Annabel typed on her screen one day, and you had to supress a snort of derision.
Seriously?, you typed. You could look at him for hours. You did look at him for hours, fighting to absorb the information he was relaying to you, to not get lost in the way he would sometimes push a hand absentmindedly through his hair, leaving it perfectly tousled.
Everything about him was distracting. The way he was almost constantly frowning slightly in concentration, his brow furrowed as he read or listened to someone speaking. His glasses, which when he put them on shouldn’t have made him better looking but somehow did.
Even the way he moved, the way he stood, drove you to distraction. He’d ask a question and then stand, his feet slightly apart, arms crossed over his chest waiting for raised hands while you concentrated on not watching the way the fabric of his shirt strained across his biceps.
One time he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up and you’d almost imploded on the spot. Monica had offered you some paracetamol, asking if you felt okay, while Annabel rolled her eyes in exasperation.
‘Oh, come on,’ you’d said quietly, nudging your friend. ‘Tell me that’s not attractive.’
She’d been silent for a second.
‘I think that vein in his arm is looking at me.’
You’d accepted it as a win.
Winter. It snowed, and you had to stop wearing skirts so often. The end of the semester loomed, and Christmas lights started appearing around campus.
Steven called you Y/L/N, instead of Miss Y/L/N, in a lecture, and your friends started accusing him of favouritism. Not to his face, of course, just to yours. Their accusations filled you with an intense sort of pleasure.
During your last lecture before the Christmas holidays you’d been invited to a Christmas party right after class, and decided, against Annabel’s advice, to wear your outfit to Steven’s lecture.
It was nothing overly special, but the dress was nicer than anything you usually wore to class, and quite a bit lower cut. Not that you had taken this into consideration, of course. Heads turned as you walked into the lecture hall; one of the guys you’d worked with on a group project gave an appreciative whistle, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit.
‘Goin’ somewhere nice, Y/L/N?’ Steven asks you as you sit down. You hadn’t looked to gauge his reaction when you’d walked in, and you’re regretting it now. The use of your last name by itself sends a thrill through you, even though he’d addressed another girl in the class in the same way last week and it had made your blood practically boil with jealously.
‘Christmas party,’ you reply with a smile, shrugging your bag off of your shoulder. The guy who’d whistled at you is still looking your way; you can feel his gaze on you. You get your laptop out, and when you look back up Steven is looking at the guy, who is now chatting with his mates.
It might be your imagination, but you’re sure you can see a muscle going in Steven’s jaw as he watches him. Your breath comes short for a moment or two, but then he’s starting the class and you’re almost certain you had imagined it.
An hour and a half later you’re faced with the prospect of not seeing Steven for three weeks (he’s taking your class again next term - thank God, you’d thought when you’d found out) as people begin packing up and filtering out of the room.
‘I might ask him to come to the Christmas party,’ you say to Annabel at the end of the lecture. She turns to you, an expression of muted disbelief on her face.
‘Are you mad?’ she asks politely.
‘Well… probably. But I-’
‘Don’t. Please, God, Y/N, do not do that. I’ll pay you not to. How much do you want?’
You laugh, feeling slightly hysterical. ‘I’m going to do it.’
‘Right, and what happens when he turns you down and you have to come back and sit here next term knowing what you did?’
‘But what if he says yes?’ you ask. Annabel throws her hands heavenward and stands up.
‘Please allow me to escort you from this room.’
You sigh, and let her, fully aware that you would most likely get rugby tackled to the ground by her if you tried to break away. Just before you follow her down the steps, you drop your jacket surreptitiously on to the back of your seat.
‘Have a good Christmas, girls,’ Steven says to you as you’re practically dragged past him and out of the room by Annabel.
‘Thanks. You too,’ you manage to smile, and then you’re in the corridor.
‘Right. Do I have to escort you to the party as well? Or can you be trusted by yourself?’ Annabel asks you.
‘I’m fine. Thanks for looking out for me,’ you say begrudgingly, and receive a rare smile from your friend.
‘You wouldn’t last a day without me.’
You say goodbye, wishing her a merry Christmas, and start heading across campus to where your car is parked. It’s snowing gently, and you’re beginning to regret your little plan. Now you have no jacket and pretty solid confirmation that you’ve been making everything up about Steven.
‘Y/N!’
Your heart skips a beat as you hear him calling your name, and suddenly you’re not at all cold anymore. You pretend not to hear him and continue walking.
‘Y/L/N, hey!’
A small smile creeps across your face; you force it away as you turn and pretend to look confused. Steven is striding towards you through the snow, clutching your jacket.
‘Oh, thanks!’ you say, retracing your steps to meet him and taking the jacket from him. He’s frowning.
‘Aren’t you freezin’?’
‘I don’t really feel the cold,’ you lie blatantly, hoping that he can’t see the goosebumps which have erupted across every inch of your exposed flesh. Which is quite a lot of flesh.
‘Well, don’t get ill. Enjoy your party,’ he says, taking a step backwards. Before you can stop yourself, you say, ‘Thanks. Are you doing anything nice tonight?’
‘Yeah, actually I – have a date.’
The air turns to solid ice in your lungs, rendering you unable to draw a breath. You are frozen, unable to do anything but blink. Smile, Y/N. Smile!
It only takes a split second for your face to catch up with your thoughts, but you’re certain the crushing disappointment you’d felt had been clear to see all over your features. The thought makes you want to bury yourself under the snow and stay there forever.
‘Oh, that’s great! Have a nice time,’ you smile, gripping your jacket hard. There’s snow in his hair and a few days’ worth of stubble on his face and he’s frowning at you in that way and he just looks so, so gorgeous.
And he’s going on a date.
For a few seconds he doesn’t speak, and you stand looking at each other in the snow, him frowning, you trying desperately not to shiver. Say something, you find yourself silently begging, suddenly feeling warm rather than cold as he holds your gaze.
‘Thanks,’ he finally says. ‘Merry Christmas.’
And then he turns and walks back the way he came.
Much to your surprise you don’t die from either embarrassment or heartbreak over Christmas, and come January you’re so stressed about assignments that Steven is the last thing on your mind. Well, maybe not last. Maybe second. Or joint first.
You get through January’s lectures mostly by telling yourself that he’s probably now in a relationship, which actually does nothing to help and makes you quieter than usual. To make matters even worse he’d started growing his beard out; you’d decided that he was doing it specifically to torture you.
January rained its way into February; you got ill and were forced to stay in bed for just under a week, missing your lectures and having to rely on Annabel’s sparse notetaking to keep up with your studies, and when you were feeling better she came to visit you.
‘I swear he kept looking at your empty seat.’
You rolled your eyes, ‘Yeah, right.’
‘Like, you know I don’t condone this weird thing you have for him, but it was like every five minutes.’
‘He’s definitely got a girlfriend, Anna,’ you told her, wiggling the mouse around in circles on your laptop as you spoke.
‘How do you know?’
‘Well, how could he not?’
‘To be fair, he’s definitely hotter now he has a beard.’
‘Hey, back off. I saw him first,’ you grinned.
‘He asked where you were, as well.’
Your heart did a sort of weak bellyflop.
‘Did he?’
‘Yeah, after class. He looked proper concerned and everything.’
‘Only because I’m top of his class and he doesn’t want me falling behind.’
Annabel erupted into cackles.
‘If you’re top of the class then I’m a PhD student,’ she chortled.
‘Well I’m not bottom,’ you protested, feeling quite put out.
‘I’m kidding, you’re doing great,’ Annabel said, getting to her feet. ‘You’ll be back next week? I can’t stand another two hours of him gazing forlornly at your empty chair.’
‘Shut up. Yes, I’ll be back next week.’
Annabel had reignited a spark of hope in you; maybe he wasn’t with someone after all.
Spring. Slowly but surely, the temperature began to climb, however the rain stayed relentless. You started wearing skirts again, not really knowing what you were hoping to achieve by doing so but wearing them all the same.
You managed to sit through a one-to-one meeting with Steven to discuss your dissertation without breaking out in a sweat, which you viewed as a win. There had, however, been one moment where he’d handed you some paper across his desk and your fingers had brushed together.
You’d felt the contact like an electric shock, a tingling sensation shooting up your hand. Steven had flinched as though he’d been burned, a movement so minute that afterwards you’d decided, again, that you had imagined it. The meeting ended quite abruptly after that.
April arrived and the downpours finally ceased. Your exams loomed, and a sort of quiet dread had descended upon you and your classmates in lectures.
There was little time for distraction anymore, even when Steven called you by your last name or stood behind you to read your work over your shoulder to offer advice. Even Annabel had stopped teasing you.
That eighth month of university was lost to you through your enormous workload; you lived, breathed, and slept assignments and essays.
Suddenly it was mid-May, and Steven was wishing you luck with your exams.
‘Not that you need it,’ he added, and everyone had smiled sort of grimly. You got the sense that, much like you, everyone was ready for this to be over.
You had a final one-to-one meeting with Steven after class, and walked with him to his office, Annabel staring after you. A few months ago this might have had you breaking out in a sweat, but the stress of your exams was leaving you little room for any other emotions.
‘Will you wait out here for a second? Won’t be long,’ Steven asked you as you reached the door to his office.
‘Sure,’ you said, moving to lean against the wall.
You wait for a minute, then two, and it might be your imagination but you… can you hear him talking in there? You’d been certain there hadn’t been anyone else in the room when he’d entered.
Another minute passes, after which the temptation to move closer to the door and try to hear what he’s saying grows too strong. You strain your ears, trying not to look too conspicuous.
‘Can’t,’ you hear him say, and he’s speaking too quietly for you to make out full sentences. The only other thing you hear is, ‘Don’t you dare,’ about another minute later, and then footsteps. You slide quickly back against the wall, positioning yourself as you had been when he entered his office.
The door opens.
‘Come in,’ he smiles, and you tell yourself, yet again, that you must have imagined him speaking, because there’s no one in his office.
The meeting goes quickly; you have ten minutes to ask him a million questions about your papers, and you’re so focused that you don’t notice the whiteness of Steven’s knuckles on his left hand, which grips a pen in danger of snapping in two.
You do however notice his voice, which sounds slightly hoarse.
‘Are you… okay?’ you ask him once your ten minutes is up, putting your papers back into your bag and standing up.
He seems to relax, his features softening as he looks at you.
‘Yeah, just… it’s been a long week,’ he says. You smile and sigh, tilting your head in sympathy.
‘Tell me about it.’
And then there’s a moment where you’re not entirely sure what happens. Steven tenses suddenly, his smile vanishing, and he closes his eyes, bowing his head. But before you’ve even had time to frown in confusion, he’s looking back up at you, and your heart launches itself against the inside of your chest as though it’s trying to throw itself at him.
Because all of a sudden he’s looking at you like you’ve wanted him to look at you since September. Like he wants you.
He looks the same but… different, somehow. His eyes are darker beneath his hooded eyelids, and when he stands up it’s not with the careful composure you’re so used to, but with careless abandon, as though he means to go somewhere and is not planning on letting anyone get in his way.
You’re frozen as he comes around the side of the desk and settles just in front of you, sitting back carelessly against the wooden surface and crossing his arms slowly, still looking at you like a man starved.
You swallow nervously, and then realise that you have stopped breathing, taking in a sudden breath of air which mortifyingly sounds like a small gasp. A smile begins to spread across Steven’s face, slow and almost contemptuous. You can’t take your eyes off of him.
‘Was there… anything else?’ he asks you.
A small part of your brain registers that he speaks with a deep, American drawl instead of the English accent that you’re used to, but it’s buried too deep for you to hear it at the moment. There are more important matters at hand, like the way he continues to look at you.
You open your mouth to say no, but find that you’re physically unable to form words, and shake your head slightly, lips parted, instead.
His gaze falls from your eyes to your lips, and if possible, darkens even further. For a few blissful seconds you really think he’s going to do it, that he’s actually going to kiss you.
And then, then, his eyes continue downwards, almost excruciatingly slowly, and it’s like you can feel his gaze on you as it moves south, carving a searing line of warmth down your skin. He stops around your shins, before his eyes make their way back up, if possible even slower than before, and you feel suddenly actually lightheaded.
When your eyes meet his again, you feel almost faint, your ears buzzing with shock.
‘Off you go then,’ he tells you, tipping his head towards the door.
For a few seconds you don’t move, can’t move, before wrenching your gaze away from him, turning on your heel and walking out of the room. Chest heaving, you walk-run down the corridor, and don’t stop until you’re in your car, where you allow your head to fall into your hands.
Steven’s POV
It’s so very frustrating wanting to hurt someone who lives inside your head.
‘She’s about to start her exams, she doesn’t need her professor comin’ on to her!’
You won’t be her professor in a few weeks, Marc replies, in that stupid, haughty tone he uses when he knows he’s in the wrong but won’t admit it.
‘That’s not the point!’ Steven half shouts, collapsing on to the sofa and imagining how mad he must look, yelling into the reflection of the TV screen.
It’s exactly the point. You don’t have to wait anymore.
‘It’s not about waitin’, Marc. We’ve been over this; I’m not goin’ to ask her out, student or not.’
Oh, come on. You know she wants-
Steven turns and walks away, flicking the kettle on so that he doesn’t have to listen to Marc’s voice anymore. This would have worked if not for the fact that he was literally inside of his head.
You need to hurry up and do it, or I will.
‘If you so much as go near her you can say goodbye to frontin’ for the foreseeable future,’ Steven snaps. He hears Marc laughing.
As if you could stop me. I managed well enough earlier without you giving me control.
Steven puts his head in his hands when he thinks about earlier. He’d had to watch, in utter, agonising helplessness as Marc had looked at you like that, as you’d gone the most perfect shade of pink, eyes wide, lips parted, looking so ridiculously kissable…
He groans quietly, and can almost feel Marc smirking in his mind.
‘Shut up.’
I didn’t-
‘Yeah, well don’t,’ Steven growls, preparing to make the angriest cup of tea ever. To Marc’s credit, he does shut up after that.
Later that night, Steven says, ‘Two weeks, and then her exams will be over. Maybe, then, I’ll say something to her. If I see her again.’
The thought of not seeing you again, ever, is sudden and unpleasant.
We will, Marc says, and Steven doesn’t ask how he can be sure.
Two weeks later you’re still the first thing on his mind. Some students have been coming to see him before and after exams, but you’re not one of them, and he can’t decide whether to be relieved or disappointed about it.
He’s in his office the day after the last exam, marking some second-year papers and resigning himself to the fact that you’ve forgotten about him, and that Marc had been wrong, there was nothing to it apart from him pining after you.
A knock on his door startles him out of his brooding, and he realises that he’s been staring at the same sentence on the page for over a minute and not actually taking any of the words in.
‘Come in,’ he calls wearily. He’s going to have to do this later, at home.
The door opens slowly, and when he looks up and sees that it’s you he’s instantly on his feet without remembering deciding to stand up.
‘Hi,’ you say, and Steven’s heart starts beating double time, despite his best efforts to stay calm.
‘Y/N, hi. To what do I owe the pleasure?’
And a pleasure it was; you were wearing a summer dress which barely reached your knees and no jacket, with boots and a bag slung over your shoulder. You stepped inside the room, leaving the door slightly open, looking… nervous?
Marc was suddenly front and centre in Steven’s subconscious; he could see Marc watching you in the reflection of the tinted glass in the window behind you which looked out into the corridor. He was looking at you the same way he’d looked you at last time you’d been in his office.
‘I just… wanted to talk about – before,’ you said, and he could now hear the nervousness your voice carried.
‘Before?’ Steven asked, and caught sight of Marc rolling his eyes.
You took a few slow steps closer to his desk, hovering nervously before him.
‘When I came in here before. I heard you talking when there was no one in here, and then you seemed… different,’ you told him, looking almost apologetic.
Great. She thinks we’re mad.
‘Different, how?’ Steven asked you, feeling Marc virtually vibrating with tension, and watched as you practically squirmed under his gaze.
‘Well, you… you looked at me like – like you wanted to…’
Steven had had his chance. You were all but throwing yourself, verbally, at him, and he was just stood there like a lemon, doing nothing, saying nothing. Marc was at the end of his tether. You were struggling, it was plain to see, and Marc was loathe to sit by and watch a damsel in distress.
He took the body so abruptly that Steven barely had time to look surprised, and then he was finally, finally walking around the desk towards you, eyes fixed on you like you were the only bright point in a room full of darkness.
The door, he heard Steven saying, panicked, as if from down a very long tunnel. The door was still slightly open, and Marc almost scoffed at the thought of that getting in his way.
He reached you and, instead of pulling you to him and kissing you like he wanted, he took hold of your waist and without breaking his stride backed you up against the door, using you to push it firmly shut, a small gasp of an exhale escaping you as he did. Then he locked it, without breaking eye contact with you once.
Your pupils were blown wide with want, your lips parted slightly in that way which had driven him crazy last time, which had been keeping Steven awake for the last two weeks. And now he was inches away from them.
‘Can I?’ he asked, and didn’t even think to be embarrassed by the way it came out as a hoarse, whispered plea.
Your eyes widened ever so slightly before dropping to his lips, and then you lifted your face a fraction of an inch and it was enough for Marc, who instantly, almost frantically pressed his lips to yours, kissing you hard.
You immediately turned pliant in his hold, kissing him back readily, your hands coming up to his arms, sliding up his biceps to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you while his hands gripped your waist, his thumbs pressing against your hips in the most intoxicating way.
He feels your hands carry on up meet at the nape of his neck, and then your fingers are in his hair and he’s in heaven, he’s actually in heaven. It’s better than he’d imagined it, your lips are so soft and fit perfectly against his, just like your body between him and the door.
Your fingers are still tangled in his hair, and all of a sudden you make a fist and tug gently, and it feels so delicious that Marc can’t help but let out a quiet groan against your mouth. You react with a small gasp, pressing yourself further against him, and it’s all Steven needs to take control, taking advantage of Marc’s stunned mind as he manages to front.
He breaks away from the kiss just to look at you; your lips are swollen from the kiss and your eyes have a slightly glazed quality to them, as though you’ve been stunned. Your faces are just inches away from each other, your body still pressed between him and the door.
‘…like you wanted to do that,’ you finish your sentence, breathless, and then you’re kissing him again except for Steven it’s for the first time and you feel so good. Your fingers in his hair are making his brain short circuit and he slides his hands up from your waist so that they’re flat against your back, pressing you to him as though he can’t have you close enough. Which he can’t.
He could kiss you forever, and truly thinks that he would have carried on for days if not for his need for oxygen.
‘Remind me why we didn’t do this months ago?’ he asks you when he pulls away. You giggle and blush, and maybe it’s not just lust because something warm bubbles up inside Steven’s chest when you look back up at him shyly.
‘I didn’t want you to think I might be doing it for the wrong reasons,’ you say, and all of the reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this rush back into Steven’s mind. You must see his change in expression because a small frown appears on your face, and your hands leave his hair.
He lets go of you, despite all of his bodily instincts telling him not to, and takes a step back, leaving you stood, flushed-looking, in front of the door.
‘You’re still my student until you graduate,’ he says, hating himself.
‘But you just kissed me,’ you reply, a small smile playing on your lips.  
‘I know,’ he says, running a hand through his hair. Your smile vanishes.
‘Do you want me to go?’ you ask, your voice suddenly sounding very small, and abruptly he wants you close to him again, pressed flush against his chest.
Steven, Marc says, and it sounds like a warning.
‘No, no, that’s not what I meant,’ Steven says quickly, taking a step back towards you and taking your hands in his. ‘I’m just - if we get caught…’
‘So we’ll wait,’ you say, and he’s shaking his head before you’ve finished the sentence.
‘No, enough waiting,’ he replies, and you look visibly pleased as he says it.
‘We should just maybe… not meet here again,’ he continues, and you nod.
‘Fine. I won’t be here from now on anyway.’
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and it seems to snap you back to reality.
‘I should go,’ you say, and Steven nods, letting go of your hands.
‘Here, take my number,’ he tells you, casting about for some spare paper and a pen on his desk. You take the piece of paper and fold it, putting it in your pocket.
‘So can I kiss you again, or..?’
His lips are on yours before you can finish, and you smile into the kiss, which makes Steven’s heart feel like it swells to twice its usual size. You break away reluctantly, and then you’re saying goodbye, smiling, and disappearing around the door.
Steven sits back down behind his desk, and tries to find it in him to be angry at Marc for kissing you first. He can’t.
You’re welcome, Marc says, irritatingly.
‘Shut up,’ Steven says.
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tag list💌 : @later-gators12
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slutcoded-mandogirl · 2 months
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some thoughts on this episode + s3 so far (tbb and rebels spoilers):
we fucking lost fireball, i'm so gdamn sad 😭😭😭 we had him for almost an entire year and now he's dead, i'm so fucking unwell
OMEGA AND HER TOOTHPICK. SHE LOVES HER LITTLEBIG BROTHER SO MUCH, I WANT TO SCREAM (that used to be hunter, it used to be hunter she looked at like that and now it's crosshair, and i can't help wondering if that makes hunter hurt as much as i think it might)
does anyone else think that one of the clone assassins is cody. everyone's so concerned it's tech (to the point i've started calling every clone x "tech", i don't even like that theory yet here we are), but what if it's cody. huh?????????????
WHO ELSE IS CONCERNED ABOUT OMEGA. bc when she was on tantiss, yes she was clearly depressed, but she was managing to keep her head up for crosshair, for emerie even, because she was so hopeful and so determined. and now she's not even eating. she's constantly shrouded in shadow. someone please, for the love of god, get this girl on some anti-depressants
wolffe rex gregor wolffe rex gregor wolffe rex gregor, we had the entire fucking seelos squad together in the same place for a half a second, oh my god the end is near (do u ever just. realize that this is the beginning of the end. and it kills you inside. because yeah, those 3 make it out, but not even gregor makes it out alive in the end. we still keep losing clones. it doesn't stop with rots or tcw, it doesn't stop with tbb, it doesn't even stop in rebels. we just. keep. losing them.)
why the fuck do the writers not give a shit about echo. huh??? the writing for him has been LAZY since fucking last season. they sent him away halfway through, and yes it makes sense for his character, but at the same time you're trying to tell me that omega was taken and he ditched the batch? that omega was returned to them alive and he didn't cry upon seeing her?? WHY ARE HIS EMOTIONS SO MUTED. WHY DO THEY KEEP SENDING HIM AWAY. WHY CAN'T HE BE ON THE SCREEN FOR MORE THAN 2 SECONDS AT A TIME, WHAT IS THE DEAL
because i would get it if they showed that maybe he's got some ptsd, maybe he's struggling with showing his feelings bc of the stress and the fear and the constant fighting and losing brothers. y'know, like a show is supposed to imo. but they're not doing that???
the lazy ass writing with hunter this episode is driving me insane. someone else said it too, but why in the fuck did crosshair react to the clone assassin faster than fucking hunter. hunter exists to be a tracking god, like nothing and no one can escape him bc he's just that good. he's a gdamn commando with a major in tracking and hunting, HIS NAME IS HUNTER FOR FUCK'S SAKE, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME HE COULDN'T PICK UP ON CLONE X TRACKING THEM BEFORE FUCKING BATCHER OR CROSSHAIR???????
lazy ass writing is what that is
ugh
also, can we talk about clone commando hilo in wolffe's lil imperial squad?? FINALLY. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WHAT, LIKE 12? 20 YEARS? WE FINALLY HAVE A CLONE WITH A VAGUELY POLYNESIAN NAME (it's not even a māori name, it's a hawaiian name, but i will take the scraps i can get because i literally never never ever expected something like that outside of my own headcanons, thanks for literally nothing disney). my 2 seconds of research tell me that hilo means "to twist" in ʻōlelo, do with that what you will~
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macgyvertape · 10 months
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Venture Bros series finale thoughts (spoilers)
Watching the final work in a long running series (I started watching around 2012) is always a bit bitter-sweet, especially as a Venture Bros fans where there have been two or three year gaps between seasons, and after season 7 there was a lot of uncertainty of whether there would be another season or movie special. It was also extremely frustrating that hours after the movie came out, before most people had gotten to watch it, it was announced that Warner Bros who owns the rights would be delisting the show, WITHOUT telling the creators beforehand.
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I reframed a lot of my initial thoughts after reading the Mashable interviews with the creators. “'The Venture Bros.' creators on saying goodbye to their show: 'It sucks'” where they discuss “kill you darlings” editing, and why some characters like Brock had less screen time and others like Sirena didn’t appear at all:
“"We put on our list — these are the things we want to include," Hammer recalled of the process. "These are the things that aren't important. These are the things that are funny. These are the things we care about. And we wrote out [a] way too long script and did a few rewrites."
"We wrote our most detailed outline ever," Publick said. "And we started writing the script. And when we got to the halfway point of the outline, we were already at the, like, seven-eighths point of what our page count should be. So we went, 'Oh, we gotta cut five scenes we wrote already and pare down the second act — like, way down.'" …
But it wasn't all bad news. Hammer found some joy in the process of paring down, telling Mashable, "It was also a treat because when we get to that point where we've overwritten, we can read it and go, 'Well, now I understand you.' We're good at looking at something and going, 'I know why this is broken. And I can fix it.' Jackson and I are both real good at repairing things."
And “Doc Hammer reveals the 'Venture Bros.' scene he regrets losing” which discusses Sirena specifically:
“Hammer began to explain, "I don't want people walking away going —"
"She's [Sirena] a bitch," Publick said, finishing the thought.
"Yeah," Hammer continued. "She's not a bad person. And we understood what happened (between her and Dean). And we wanted to tell people like, 'This is just a part of growing up. These terrible things just happen.'”
"The Monarch is a jackass, and he says terrible things," Hammer continued. "And Doc is a horrible narcissist, raised by toxic masculinity. I recognize this pantheon because they're in my life as well. But, I love all of them — as flawed as they are. And [Publick and I, in making the series] constantly walk that line of going, 'This is terrible. But look at the love in here.'"
The Sirena cut scene was meant to walk that line as well. The duo declined to reveal what would have happened in the scrapped Sirena scene. (Maybe they go into it on the DVD's commentary track?) But Hammer did share what he hopes fans realize about Sirena.
"We wanted people to walk away understanding her and understanding what happened," Hammer said. "Obviously, she's not in love with Dean. And hers is a very complicated relationship with Hank because it's his first relationship. And that's the age where we mess up."
I think the series finale is excellent within the way it works in that very strict time limit; it balances some fun new plots and characters with wrapping up a bunch of plot threads and speculation. Sure I would have loved to see more of Mantilla/Debra’s “stalker with a crush” interest in Dr. Mrs. The Monarch as the resolution was very quick but it still was my favorite plotline in the movie. It’s been amazing watching the quality of the animation increase over the course of 20 years, and I’m grateful the show got a high movie budget send off. There were a number of scenes like the Ven-tech tower liftoff where the animators really got to flex and make the moment spectacular and it was great to see.
It felt nice to end the series getting answers to some of the long running show mysteries and fan speculation; how are The Monarch and Rusty Venture related, what’s the deal with Hank and Dean’s parentage. This show has never done the sudden twist because fans figure things out and it wanted to “subvert expectations”, it instead rewards careful watching, and it was fun spotting old callbacks or visual Easter eggs (Dermott has a Deathklok poster). There were also a lot of emotional moments that landed for me, such as the rescue of Ven-Tech tower, just seeing these characters work together and succeed after all these years watching them.
This finale does one of my favorite things for a series finale to do, show a world where the characters have grown and changed but the world live on in a positive way, akin to riding off into the sunset where a new adventure is always possible. Things like Ven-tech tower settling in the old Venture Compound, the Monarch finds out the truth of his biological relationship to Rusty Venture but just adds a layer in the in the way he’ll continue to arch.
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toournextadventure · 11 months
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movie night pt.v
Summary: Sam doesn't distrust you quite as much and Tara scares you. Guess that means it's time for them to meet the family.
Word Count: 6.4k Warnings: Excessive swearing, suggestive themes, Scream levels of violence/mentions of violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)
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“One more attack and I’m takin’ you to Mercy,” Aunt Sherry said as she finished cleaning the dried blood on your neck. “Conscious or not.”
“I understand,” you said quietly. You supposed after another 17 stitches, you couldn’t really argue with her.
“Your Ma never wanted this life for you,” she said, her hand resting on your shoulder.
You knew she meant well, but this conversation wasn’t helping. Clearly Ma never wanted this for you, she hadn’t even wanted it for herself and Pop. Trouble was always quick to follow your family, and you were more than adept at figuring out how to navigate it. This was a different obstacle, sure, but you were clever, you could make it work.
None of you had been taught how to keep others out of trouble, though.
“I’ll see you at Mass,” you said with a smile before hopping out of the ambulance for the second time in 24 hours.
Anika had already been rushed to the hospital. As far as you knew, they were confident she would pull through. Damn, she was one tough sonofabitch. You would need to make sure you sent flowers or chocolates or something. What would she even like? Maybe you should ask Mindy.
“Who knows where you live?” Sam asked once you shuffled your way to the group. All these Ghostface attacks were giving you major deja vu.
“No one,” you said when you stopped beside Tony. “Did you tell anyone?”
“Course not,” he scoffed, “I know the family rules.”
“Well he found out somehow,” Chad said.
“Well it wasn’t from us, smart guy,” Tony said defensively. “We don’t tell nobody where we live.”
“Only ones who know are Garret and the lot of you,” you said. “And I only called Tara.”
“And where is Garret?” Mindy asked as she held her now-bandaged arm.
“His dad’s house up in the Hamptons,” you said with a shrug. “Not gettin’ back till next weekend.”
“And you’re sure he’s up there?” Tara asked.
“Yes I’m sure, now quit with the interrogation,” you huffed. “Got enough of a headache as it is.”
Tara didn’t say anything but reached down and grabbed your hand, slotting her fingers between yours. You gave her hand a gentle squeeze. It was starting to become abundantly clear why she had kept her distance. Was this going to happen to anyone that got close to the Woodsboro gang? Because that was enough to have anyone on edge.
“So what now?” Tara asked.
“Chad and I are going to the hospital with Anika,” Mindy said softly, her eyes hazy.
“Quinn is already being escorted to the police station,” Sam said.
A phone rang.
Everyone’s eyes darted to Tony, who was already digging in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and showed you the screen, and you gulped. Oh god, this was so bad. You couldn’t do this again, you were barely holding it together as it was.
“Is it him?” Tara asked.
“Worse,” Tony said as he handed you the phone.
You watched it ring two more times before closing your eyes and answering it. The moment you held it up to your ear, you heard the static on the other end. It didn’t matter how tough you were, you weren’t prepared. Hell, nothing could have prepared you for it.
“Hey, Ma,” you said in the sweetest voice you could muster.
“If the two ‘a youse don’t get your sorry asses over here in the next 20 minutes, I’m chainin’ your ankles and throwin’ ya in the Hudson.”
“Just calm down-”
“-don’t you dare tell me to calm down, you don’t even call me to tell me about this bastard?”
You sighed. “No I don’t because you start actin’ like a wise guy!”
“Get your asses over here, Y/N.”
“Ma-”
“-Now.”
You exhaled through your nose and looked over at Tony. He mouthed a “sorry” before he shrugged. Lot of good he was. Sam and Tara were still looking at you with a mix of concern and… were they laughing?
“Can we bring two visitors?” You finally asked.
There was a bit of silence.
“Only if you follow the rules.”
“We will,” you said.
“Then yes.” A beat of silence. “And hurry.”
“Yes ma’am,” you said. “We’ll see you soon-”
-the call hung up and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Well, that went well. On the other hand, you had been on the receiving end of worse calls from your Ma. This honestly wasn’t all that bad, at least she didn’t curse your bloodline. Well, not that time.
“You threw me under the bus,” you mumbled as you handed the phone back to Tony.
“I ain’t puttin’ up with her rage,” he said even as he slid the phone back into his back pocket.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
“We’re goin’ somewhere safe,” you said. “Well. Safe for you.”
“She’s gonna kill ya,” Tony mumbled.
“Shut up, I know,” you mumbled back as you placed your hand on Tara’s lower back and started guiding her down the streets.
“Shouldn’t you make sure the police don’t need anything?” Tara asked, looking back at your crime-scene of an apartment building.
“Absolutely not,” you said, “they let this happen, they can do it on their own.”
You all bid goodbye to Chad and Mindy before everyone went silent as you and Tony led them through the streets of New York. It was late, the lights were blinding, and the grating sounds of sirens faded into the usual chaos. There was something comforting about it; you didn’t think you’d ever be able to live somewhere that was quiet. How Tara had managed to live in Woodsboro forever was beyond you.
But that didn’t mean you weren’t keeping an eye out for suspicious characters. Namely a certain motherfucker who had quickly moved to the top of your shit list. Oh if he just gave you the chance, you were going to make him pay. No way on God’s green earth were you going to let him get away with any of this bullshit.
“Where exactly are we going?” Sam asked when you took them into an unassuming bakery in the Bronx.
“Can’t tell you,” Tony said.
You made sure to wave at Chris when you walked by the counter and guided everyone through a back door. It was a bit suspicious, you wouldn’t lie. Come to think of it, you didn’t think your family had invited anyone over since… well, since Dicky had brought Carol over a few years ago, actually. Oh man, maybe you all needed to reconsider your rules.
“It’s not as sketchy as it seems,” you said when you turned to look at them. “But I need you both to close your eyes.”
“Excuse me?” Tara asked.
“I said it’s not as sketchy as it seems,” you huffed.
“I’m not letting you lead us into some back room,” Sam said with crossed arms.
“If you don’t close your eyes, I can’t take you in,” you said. “It’s family rules.”
“Really?” Tara asked.
“Yes,” you said with a nod. They both looked at you in silence. “I know how it sounds.”
“If we close our eyes will you quit floundering?” Tara asked. “You’re going to catch flies.”
“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Please just follow the rules, I’m tired of just standing here like a psycho.”
Sam and Tara shared a look, opposite of the one you shared with Tony. You both knew it was a bit sketchy, you knew. But when Ma and Pop made the rules, they made the rules. How were you supposed to argue? You weren’t, that’s how. Besides, if Ma and Pop found out you were breaking the rules they would have your heads.
“Fine,” Sam said with a sigh before closing her eyes. Tara quickly followed suit.
Both you and Tony shared a sigh before guiding the two girls through the back door. You each held on to them to make sure they didn’t trip over something as you took them down through a cellar and into one of the underground tunnels. Most people didn’t know about the tunnels under New York City, but your family had memorised them as if your lives depended on it.
Which, sometimes they did.
You took them through a dizzying amount of turns until you got to the door that led up to your house. If the family was smart, they would’ve locked it. And unfortunately for you, it was locked. Damn, you had hoped they would’ve lost their mind for a few seconds, you weren’t in the mood to dig around for the new location of the spare key.
The tip of your ear started to throb when you bent down to look for the key under the crate of bootleg whiskey.
“Found you,” you mumbled to yourself when your fingers brushed against the ridiculously oversized skeleton key.
“Can we open our eyes now?” Tara asked.
“No,” you said without hesitation. “We gotta get you inside first.”
“This is how people die in horror movies,” she continued while you shoved the skeleton key into the similarly oversized keyhole. “You know that, right?”
“Yes, Tara, I know that,” you bit back, finally pushing the door open. “Now come on.”
You held Tara’s hand tightly as you helped her up the stairs to your house. Well, it was your parents’ house, but that didn’t really matter. Only once you and Tony had brought both girls up to the living room did you finally pull them to a stop. The blood rushed in your ears. You hadn’t ever brought anyone home.
“Okay, you can open ‘em,” Tony said before you found your voice again.
Both girls opened their eyes slowly; you almost wanted to laugh at how wide they got when they looked around. Sure, maybe the brownstone was a bit extravagant. All the exploits of the past were on display; trophies, if you would. From the old paintings, to old newspaper clippings of heists, to the Tommy gun your great grandfather had owned before he passed down the mantle. You supposed it was a bit of a shock to the average person.
“Are you…” Sam trailed off before looking back at you. “Are you-”
“-yeah,” you said with a nod. “We’re Italian.”
“Y/N Vitale, you be nice to those girls.”
“Oh shit,” Tony said as the four of you turned around quickly.
Your eyes went wide - much like Sam’s and Tara’s - when you saw your Ma walking towards you with violence in her step. Oh, you were in trouble. You were in deep shit and no one was going to be able to save you. Maybe you should’ve just taken your chances with Ghostface; he scared you less than your mother.
“Hey Ma-”
-you were cut off by her harshly gripping your jaw and pulling you down until you were eye level with her. She twisted your head and looked at the injured ear you were sporting. Everyone flinched when your neck popped. What was one more injury in the long list of injuries you were starting to get?
She turned your head again until you could look her in the eyes. As much as you feared your Ma - respectfully, of course - you knew concern when you saw it. It never came off the way normal people did, but you knew it. It was in the crinkles around her eyes as they checked every inch of your skin.
“Are you ladies hurt?” Ma asked as she let go of your face. You rubbed your jaw as you straightened back up.
“No- um, no ma’am,” Sam stammered.
“We’re okay,” Tara followed.
“Good,” Ma said, turning to look at them and putting on her motherly smile that you certainly never got to see. “Then welcome home.”
“How come they get a welcome and I get a once-over?” You asked.
“Because they stayed safe and responsible and you didn’t,” Ma shot back. Tara snickered while Sam turned her head to hide a smile.
“As if that’s my fault,” you grumbled.
“And what did I say about tracking blood into my house?” Ma asked, raising her brows at you.
“I didn’t!” You argued. “But I’m sorry, they don’t let you grab clean clothes out of an active crime scene, Ma.”
“I’m talkin’ about your feet,” she said with a gesture down.
All five of you looked down at your feet, and you flinched when you saw the tracks you had left in the house. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, you hadn’t even noticed you hadn’t grabbed shoes. But as you lifted one of your feet and checked the bottom, all the pain you had ignored came rushing to the surface.
Glass, dirt, and who knew what else was embedded in the skin. When you looked back, it seemed you had been leaving bloody footprints for who knew how long. Part of you figured you hadn’t tracked them through the Bronx, but you had most definitely tracked them through the tunnel. Damn. Pop was going to make you clean it all up.
“I put some spare clothes in the bathroom,” Ma said. “So get your raggedy ass upstairs and clean up before dinner.”
“Yes ma’am,” you muttered as your shoulders fell.
You ignored Tara’s barely-concealed laughter as you pushed past her to head upstairs to your bathroom. Well, you supposed technically it wasn’t your bathroom anymore, it was Ma’s, but she could suck your dick. The nerve of that woman, to call you raggedy. You were the perfect gentleman, it wasn’t your fault some psycho had decided to target you.
Just as Ma had said, she had left a folded set of clothes on the bathroom counter for you. It looked a little too formal if you were being honest, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And you certainly couldn’t afford to be a chooser. Ma would have your head if she found out you had even thought about different clothes.
The stitches of your ever increasing wounds pulled tight, leaving a throbbing sensation around the jagged skin. Aunt Sherry had done a wonderful job, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. In the end, you grabbed a pair of hair scissors and just cut your shirt off. It was old, torn, and blood soaked; you could get a new one.
You couldn’t take your eyes off the shirt as you managed to wriggle out of your sweats. Not all of that blood had been yours. Some of it had been Mindy’s, and a lot of it had been Anika’s.  Your friends’ blood was soaked into your shirt. Each breath you took felt laboured as you wallowed in the thought that the very thing that kept your friends alive was staining your shirt.
With a shake of your head, you put the thoughts aside. This wasn’t new, you had seen blood before, you were fine. One step at a time. Finish getting out of your clothes, start the shower, wash your feet. And the rest of the dried blood that was becoming itchy. Oh, Ma was gonna kill you for dirtying up her shower.
The water was steaming by the time you finally stepped in. You let out a hiss when it hit your skin, creating more than just a throb in your wounds. It stung, bad. But surely it would clean you right up, right? Sanitisation, yeah, that’s what it would be. You get clean and fight infection; two birds, one stone.
By the time you were down to your feet, you were sitting on the edge of the tub while the water fell on your back. Your hair dripped into your eyes and you were constantly trying to push it back so you could see. The pair of tweezers in your hands was slick from water and you just needed to get a few more pieces of glass out so you could finish up.
You weren’t looking at the door when you heard it open.
“I told your sorry ass I’d be out in a minute, this is delicate work,” you called out.
A small hand appeared in front of your face and, without lifting your head, you looked up to see Tara standing in front of you. She, too, had been given a spare set of clothing that looked a little too big. Whose shirt was she wearing anyway? Her hand never moved until you sighed and placed the tweezers on her palm.
“You’re shit at this,” she said as she knelt down and started looking for the few remaining pieces of glass.
“Don’t have to be good, just have to be effici- ouch.” She swatted your hand away when you went to stop her from hurting you again. “You’re so rough,” you grumbled.
“Don’t have to be gentle,” she said as she looked up at you, “just have to be efficient.”
“You’re so mean,” you whispered even as you shifted your position to ease a certain… uncomfortable feeling.
Maybe you liked when she was mean. Maybe you liked it a little too much. Oh god, your family was going to see how whipped you were for a girl you hadn’t even properly been on a date with. Bringing Tara to the house maybe wasn’t such a smart idea on your part.
“Do you have gauze?” She asked, setting the tweezers down in the sink so more blood than necessary wouldn’t get on the floor.
“Underneath the sink,” you said with a gesture of your head. “Got a whole first aid kit.”
You watched her as she got up and checked under the sink. It only took a moment, it was a giant metal kit, no one could miss it. In fact, when she brought it out it was almost bigger than she was. You bit the inside of your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at her. If your body wasn’t at her mercy, you wouldn’t have been so polite.
She quickly dug around and got to work finding everything she needed before getting started. Her hands moved expertly as she started cleaning and bandaging your feet. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve guessed she had been a nurse in a past life. Unfortunately you did know better, and the scar on her hand just reminded you of how she knew so much.
“I never said thank you,” she said after she finished wrapping your left foot.
“For what?” You asked as you leaned back to turn the water off; you weren’t going to need it anymore.
“For saving Mindy and Anika,” she continued.
She wasn’t looking up at you. Quite the contrary, it was almost like she was avoiding your eyes. Why would she thank you for such a thing? It wasn’t like you were going to leave them behind to die. You weren’t always the sharpest tool in the shed - Ma made sure to remind you of that every now and then - but you weren’t that selfish.
“You don’t gotta thank me for that,” you said softly.
“I just did,” she said as she finished wrapping your right foot. “You’re done.”
You placed your feet on the ground and stood up slowly, easing your feet back into holding your weight. It hurt, ached even, but at least they were clean. How you hadn’t noticed the injuries before Ma, you had no idea. But quite frankly, Tara did a phenomenal job of wrapping them securely. 
“Hurry up and get dressed,” Tara ordered, and you looked up just in time to catch the towel she had thrown in your direction. “Your mom is torturing Sam by giving her a lecture on street safety.”
“You should’ve listened to it too,” you said, but you quickly started drying off. “You hippies can’t handle these streets.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled your pants up. It hurt your feet to be moving on them so much. “Notice your bunch weren’t even here for a few months before getting attacked.”
“And you know so much about street safety?” Tara asked. “The one who got shot at a protest?”
You hesitated. “Yeah, I do.”
You were facing the mirror as you started buttoning up your shirt, and you could see Tara staring at you with furrowed brows. Maybe you should’ve just kept your big trap shut. It wasn’t exactly the greatest time to be getting into backstory now, was it? No, it most certainly wasn’t.
“You didn’t get shot at a protest,” she said slowly. “Did you?”
You turned around as you finished tucking your shirt into your pants. “Sorry, doll,” you said with a smile, “only girlfriends get to know that information.” With a wink, you gently pushed past her and exited the bathroom.
“Oh you dick,” you heard her say even as she followed after you.
You waited at the bottom of the stairs before placing your hand on her lower back and guiding her through the brownstone to the dining room. Everyone’s obscenely loud voices reverberated off the brick walls. Seemed the whole family was invited for dinner. A little unusual considering it was a Thursday night, but given the circumstances it could be forgiven.
A wide variety of “hello”s deafened you when you and Tara walked into the dining room. Everyone was dressed well - the same dress shirt and pants as you, which was typical - and they had pulled out a few extra seats for Sam and Tara. Gale was sitting beside your Pop; she gave you a smile and a small wave, which you returned.
“Oy, Street Rat,” Mitch called, “be a good pup and show your girl to her seat.”
“Shut up,” you shot back, but nonetheless led Tara to one of the two empty seats next to each other.
Out of pure mercy, you let her sit between you and Sam so she wasn’t having to deal with any of the other family members. The others heckled you when you helped push her seat in. You could feel your cheeks heating up while you grumbled and plopped down in your own seat, refusing to look up at any of them.
“Quiet,” Pop said, and the room immediately fell silent. “Who’s gonna say grace?”
“Can’t be me,” Joel said with a shrug. “He clearly don’t listen cause Y/N is still here.”
“You really wanna be a wise guy tonight?” You asked. “Cause I still got a lot of pent up anger.”
“Enough,” Ma said quietly, but you all listened. “I’ll say grace.”
"Yes, Ma," everyone said in unison.
"Bow your heads," she said, and everyone slowly did as instructed.
You cheated a little bit. While Ma was saying grace, blessing the food and yours and the Carpenters' lives, you looked at Tara out of the corner of your eye. If you looked a little harder you almost thought you could see a flush on her cheeks. For what, you had no idea, but you made the split decision to reach over and take her hand.
She linked her fingers with yours right before Ma finished.
"Amen," each person said before all normal talk resumed.
You helped Tara and Sam get their food, making sure everyone behaved. They did, they all knew the family rules, but the Carpenters didn't and you knew the lot of you could be… a little chaotic. Eight kids, two parents, sometimes the spouses and nieces and nephews. Lucky for the girls, it was only the immediate family.
"Oy, show me the ear," Dicky said right as you tried to start eating.
"So you can point and laugh?" You asked. "No way."
"I just wanna see," he said.
"I got it," Alfie said around a mouthful of food.
The look on Tara's and Sam's faces was comical when Alfie reached across the table, gripped your jaw, and turned your head. You did your best to smile at the two of them to let them know it was normal, but they didn't seem to believe you. If anything, it almost made Tara look a little frustrated. Maybe even angry.
"That's it?" Dicky asked when you snapped at Alfie and he let you go. "All that hubbub for that?"
"What do you mean?" You asked. "I got a notch outta my ear, I was gonna get that part pierced."
"All he's sayin' is you took on Ghostface twice, and that's what you walk away with?" Joel butted in. "Pass the salt, wouldya?"
"It's more than you ever walked away with," Martha defended you. "Don't listen to a word he says."
"The two 'a youse walk away with any cool scars?" Mitch asked, turning to look at Sam and Tara.
You could see them squirm in their seats.
"Watch it-"
"-fuck off-"
"-none of your business." Martha, you, and Mercy all said at the same time.
You felt Tara squeeze your hand once.
“Hey Street Rat, you down to make a run for me?” Dicky asked.
You didn’t bother swallowing before you answered. “I’m kinda in the middle of somethin’ this week.”
“I didn’t mean this second, jackass.”
You glared at him and swiped your tongue over your bottom teeth. “Sure,” you finally said with a shrug, “just give me a week and I’ll be back in action.”
"So," Sam started, wiping her mouth off on the napkin before looking around the table. “What do you all do for a living?”
“Accounting,” every single one of you said at the same time. Pop squeezed the bridge of his eyes as you all looked at each other sheepishly.
“All of you?” Sam asked.
“Mercy’s a doctor,” Tony chimed in.
“Accounting’s a family business,” Dicky said with a gentle nod.
“Right,” Sam said with her own nod and a polite smile. Something told you she didn’t exactly believe him.
Conversation continued as normal, with everyone talking over each other. Thankfully, they all started asking Sam and Tara normal questions, and you could visibly see them start to relax. You wondered when the last time was that they had a family dinner. Not including Chad and Mindy; they were family, but they weren’t family. There was a bit of a difference.
“Ladies,” Pop said once Ma had brought out the cannoli. Everyone froze, only their eyes moving between him and the Carpenters. “It’s been a pleasure to have you, but there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
The girls stiffened in their seats, and Tara squeezed your hand again. You tried to give Pop a look that said to calm down, but he wasn’t even looking at you. His eyes were trained on Sam and Tara, and you couldn’t blame him. Hell, you didn’t know when non-family had been over last. Hopefully he was going to behave.
“You might not understand the gravity of this statement, but Vitale blood has been spilled for you two,” he said as he leaned back in his chair, his hands folded in front of him on the table.
“Oh brother,” you whispered.
Tara looked at you and you shook your head lightly and rolled your eyes. This was going to be ridiculous.
“One of us,” everyone looked at you, “felt you were worth dyin’ for.” You sighed. “We don’t take that lightly.”
“We greatly appreciate it-”
“-we have a family rule,” he interrupted Sam. “If one of us voluntarily spills blood for someone, we all follow suit.” He leaned forward on the table and waited until both Sam and Tara were looking him in the eye. “We’ll put that Ghostface character at the bottom of the Hudson.”
“Tone it down a smidge,” you whispered and gestured down with your hand.
Pop opened his mouth and closed it once. “We’ll, uh, protect you with our lives.” You gestured again. “Welcome… to the family?”
“Better,” you whispered with a scrunch of your nose that was followed by a gentle smile.
“We really do appreciate it,” Tara said.
“It’s nice to know we have, um,” Sam inhaled deeply and looked around, “Italians on our side.”
“Atta girl,” Mercy said.
“You catch on quick,” Martha agreed.
Dinner finished soon after, and everyone went about collecting the dishes and cleaning. Martha, in all her pregnant glory, kept Sam and Tara at the table, talking their ears off. At one point, you took the still-full coffee cups from in front of them and heard her talking about… something. You weren’t entirely sure, you just knew the word “family” was being thrown around a lot.
Tara looked at you and mouthed “help me.” You just smiled, shook your head, and mouthed “no” in return. The glare she gave you… it was no question she and Sam were related, they both had killer eyes. Tara’s were particularly beautiful at that moment though, did she know that? They almost reminded you of a warm hazelnut-
“-You’d best keep movin’,” Martha said. She was watching you with a ridiculous smirk. “She’s got a look that could kill.”
“Would you like some tiramisu?” You asked. Tara’s eyes softened, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Yes please,” she said.
“I’ll go get it.”
“You’re whipped!” Dicky called from the kitchen before you could even stand up straight.
“Give it a few days, Dick,” Joel said as he leaned on the doorframe. “Tara’ll have ‘em on a leash.”
“Shut up,” you shot back as you pushed past them to get into the kitchen. “It’s called bein’ polite.” You carefully plated the tiramisu. “Somethin’ you clearly know nothin’ about.”
“Seems our little Street Rat’s turnin’ into a Guard Dog,” Mitch chimed in, seemingly coming out of nowhere. Your family really came out of the woodworks, they did.
“Next time Ghostface calls, I’m givin’ him your address,” you said as you walked back into the dining room and placed the plate down in front of Tara. And Sam, you had made her a plate too.
Maybe you were whipped.
“Do it,” Dicky said. “Matter ‘a fact, give him my phone number too, he and I need to have a talk.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t tolerate that shit on my turf.”
“That’s enough,” Pop said, and everyone quickly shut up. “Go home, the lot of ya.” He looked down at Sam and Tara. “We’ve got beds made up for the both of you.”
“Thank you,” they both said with polite smiles.
“Gale stayin’ tonight too?” You asked.
And just like that, she came in at the mention of her name. Speak of the devil.
“Yes I am,” she said with a smile. “I have something I want to show you three tomorrow when it’s day time.”
“What did you find?” Tara asked quickly.
“We’ll have more time tomorrow,” Gale answered. You watched as Tara slumped back in her seat in defeat.
Everyone finished cleaning up their stuff and started leaving the brownstone. You could see the gears turning in Tara’s head when they all left through the front door, but you shook your head at her. It wasn’t something she needed to know at the moment. It was late, dark, and everyone just needed to get some sleep. If she really wanted to know more later, you would tell her.
Probably.
“She gonna have you in a muzzle next time I see you?” Joel asked as he blocked the doorway.
“Keep movin’,” Tony said as he pushed Joel out. “Call me if ya need somethin’,” he said to you with a smile.
“You got it,” you answered. “Now get out, I’m exhausted.”
Mercy gave you a kiss on the cheek and Martha gave Sam and Tara hugs, but then everyone was gone. You were left with the Carpenters, Gale, and your parents. It was… disturbingly quiet, if you were being honest. You almost missed the chaos of having everyone over. Well, you would see them all at Mass, it would be fine.
“All of you get upstairs and get to bed,” Ma said with a gentle nod of her head. “It’s late and I know you all must be tired.”
“Come on, Sam,” Gale said with a gesture, “I’ll show you to your room.”
“Good night,” Sam said with a polite smile and wave. A chorus of “good nights” followed her as she similarly followed Gale upstairs.
“Tara sweetie, you can sleep in Y/N’s bed,” Ma said before looking at you. “I made you a pallet on your floor.”
“Thanks, Ma,” you said, leaning in to leave a kiss on her cheek. “Good night, you two.” You leaned over to give Pop a kiss on the cheek as well.
“Good night,” Tara said with her own small wave.
You placed your hand on Tara’s lower back as you gently pushed her in front of you up the stairs. Unfortunately for you, your room was right beside the two guest rooms that everyone else was staying in. Not that you necessarily had anything planned, but even if you did, you wouldn’t dare risk Sam or Gale hearing you.
Sometimes life was rather cruel.
“She left you some pyjamas on the bed,” you said once you showed Tara into your room. “Bathroom is down the hall, we’ve got spare toothbrushes in the top left drawer.”
“Thanks,” Tara said softly.
You watched as she grabbed the pyjamas and promptly exited the room, leaving you alone for the first time since your shower. And now that you were alone, you could feel all the wear and tear of the past two days weighing heavy on you. Anika was still in the hospital. Was she even alive? Surely she was, someone would have let you know, right? Or they at least would have let Sam or Tara know.
And what about Quinn? She would be safe at the police station, you knew that much. They didn’t care for anyone else in the city, but they did care for their own. There was no way in hell they would let anything happen to a Detective’s daughter, especially when that daughter was Quinn. No, Quinn was safe.
Chad and Mindy were safe at the hospital with Anika. There was no doubt about it. Your family had people up there, and Pop had already said he told them to stay close and keep their eyes out. They would die before they let anything happen to those three, so they were actually safer than any of you.
When Tara came back into the room, looking mighty adorable in the oversized t-shirt and sleep pants, you gave her a smile and made your own way to the bathroom. You needed to get out of those clothes pronto before you lost your goddamn mind. The clothes were comfortable, but you were starting to feel constricted.
You left your toothbrush hanging out of the side of your mouth as you unbuttoned the shirt. Each inch lower revealed still-forming bruises and the few bouts of stitches. With a grimace, you finally let the shirt fall to the floor. You didn’t mind scars, really you didn’t, but you hadn’t wanted to get them this way.
Maybe that’s how Tara feels too, you thought with a frown as you finished brushing your teeth and cleaning up. You hadn’t entirely planned for it, but you had known it was a possibility. But Tara? She hadn’t had any idea. And it had all been done by her girlfriend’s hand. What kind of havoc did that wreak on a person’s mind?
You were still thinking about Tara and Amber when you walked back into your room. Tara was already on the bed, her back to you. The door closed with a soft *click* and you turned the light off before plodding over to the pallet. There was an art to pallet making, and your family had perfected it. But as you laid down on the floor and tried to pull the blanket up to your chin, your injuries started to throb and sting.
It wasn’t going to be the floor that kept you awake all night.
There was no way you could lay on your right side, you had that cut on your hip and your right ear was missing a piece. But you couldn’t lay on your left side either because you had that cut on your bicep. Maybe if you tried to lay on your front- nope, not that either. If you had to sleep sitting up, so help you god, you were going to snap-
-something shuffled on your bed, and you quickly stilled yourself. Shit, you hadn’t meant to wake Tara. You were practically holding your breath as the shuffling continued, but then you heard the creak of the bed and someone walking across the room. It was dark, but you didn’t have to use anything more than common sense to know it was Tara who was lifting your blanket and crawling into the pallet with you.
“Not a word,” she said softly as she carefully wrapped an arm around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.
It hurt. You would rather die than tell her that. Instead, you just pulled her closer and tried not to shift when her fingers rubbed the skin on your hip. It was obsessive, incessant, and it was almost becoming uncomfortable. But you weren’t going to tell her to stop, not when something was clearly on her mind.
“I’m sorry you got dragged into all of this,” Tara said softly.
“I’ve been dragged into worse situations,” you said flippantly. “And never by a pretty girl.”
“Don’t get yourself killed,” she said, almost as if she hadn’t heard what you had just said.
“I don’t plan on it, sweetheart,” you chuckled.
Her hand left your hip and you felt her grab your chin and turn your head. You couldn’t really see her, not properly at least, but you knew she was looking at you. Studying you for something; you wouldn’t pretend to know what. It strained your neck, but you kept your mouth shut.
You felt her pull your face down until her lips were on yours. Soft but firm. It wasn’t a kiss that was going to lead anywhere, she wasn’t trying to move any further. But judging by the way her bottom lip quivered, you knew it was important. You held her tighter to you until she pulled back and let go of your jaw, resting her head back on your shoulder.
“That didn’t mean anything,” Tara said softly.
“I know,” you said with a nod of your head that no one could see.
You both knew she was lying; you still fell asleep easily.
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razorblade180 · 11 months
Text
A razor ramble
So I know I usually never talk much about my life but today has been so chaotic I just have to share it or I’ll go crazy! Ever have a day where you go, “well it can’t get crazier” but then it did!? That was me today!
I bought a simple ticket to go see The Flash. Got there early, wore my Flash shirt, and sat down calmly. Five seconds into the lights dimming, they come back on; the movie is paused. All the way at the bottom of the theater an Usher rushes in apologizing before kneeling next to a person. Everyone there is confused until we all collectively learn the person she’s in front of just finished having a seizure. When I tell you this was the calmest episode I’ve ever seen, I mean it!
Thirty minutes pass, the ambulance show up and wheel the dude away. Everyone was respectful and confused. The Usher asks if they should skip the trailers; the entire middle section of the theater said “Don’t you dare!” I laughed because I had nothing going on today. Before she starts it though, she brings in a coworker to help hand everyone free tickets for another movie as compensation. Coworker fucked up and gave me two.
I was hyped. I was literally complaining earlier how so many movies were coming out faster than I wanted to pay seeing. I shut my mouth and watch The Flash.
So the movie ends and I’m feeling pretty good. The bathroom outside is packed so I choose to wait. As I do, I learn we got out just in time for a screening of Elemental to start. Today was about to be a double feature because driving to theatre is always crazy. I decided to be a good person and go to customer service to use a free ticket instead of just walking into the theatre. That happens flawlessly, but the bathroom is still full. I don’t even really have to go, but I had a soda earlier and was about to commit to another movie. Decided to grab my seat and wait a little bit because not a lot of people went to see Elemental.
I walk in, there’s a pair all the way to the right at the top and on the far left are four people. I am right in the middle. The group of four are teenagers, talking loud and swearing in a movie marketed for kids.
I am a very patient and kind person but if you’re a person who goes to a movie theater to be loud, on your phone, and basically not watch the movie, I am 100% certain your mother doesn’t love you and your dad meant to pull out. I was preparing myself to either tell the group, who were clearly 4ish years younger than me to shut the fuck up, or to go get an employee. Thankfully, 2 minutes into the actual movie they got up and left and I was at peace. I look to my right for no particular reason. The pair is actually a couple and they’re kissing/cuddling. I don’t care. I respect the hustle. I’ve literally been them a handful of times.
20 minutes pass.
I am enjoying this movie. Then my entire row moves a little… I glance right. The girl is stranding the the dude. My eyes shift to the screen, my lips tucked in to hold a laugh. Game recognizes game; I’m not about to call them out. Younger me was a deviant with no car who went out of his way to spend time with with a date. That’s when I remembered something… the small theaters here can raise the arm rests. Something in my soul told me to focus on the screen. The row moves again. They are full on laying down about 8 chairs away. No I am frozen because they had gone beyond kissing, and my biggest concern wasn’t even me, but the parent and child one row directly below me.
Like I said, I’ve been the deviant. I know from experience where you have to be in relations to others to do risky shit. The couple is fine unless someone below leaves to pee. Which I had to do!!! But no part of me wants to potentially engage that situation. So I politely mind my business because not only do not want to interact with that situation, but I refuse to be the person to ruin the mood. I had to respect the hustle because past me would’ve been pissed. That didn’t stop the sheer embarrassment of being in that situation though. Eventually I thought they’d stop and then I could- they went the full runtime.
Movie ends, I stand up and go to leave while they are now pretending as if they watched the movie the moment credits roll. Now I could’ve remained silent, but no. If I had to live with this memory, so did they. I politely waited for everyone to leave, then I walk by them to go down the stairs before quickly turning around. I look theses community college deviants directly and just go “Guys, ya shook half the row.” When I tell you disbelief hit them with embarrassed smiles and panic, I mean it. They apologize in unison basically. I told them “you gotta either pick a louder movie, or actually wait longer than 10 minutes for the movie to start.” Then I left. I never want to be in that situation again, but it was always kinda hilarious. What a crazy day. Really hope not sneaking into a movie or ruining a good time comes back as good karma eventually. I’d like a raise at my job or something.
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