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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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Secret Daughter?

Summary: Fans are speculating as to who the child Jack and his girlfriend were spotted with is.

Liked by trevorzegras, jhugheswag, and 3,539 others

Nhlplayernews: Devils alternative captain & superstar, Jack Hughes, spotted looking pretty comfortable with alleged girlfriend & mysterious child. Could it be the center has been hiding a kid from the world?

user: remember when hockey was about the game?

user: You are on an insta page literally called “player news” dumbass.

user: guys it’s me and Jack’s kid leave us alone!

user: hey girly, I hate to be the one to do this…

user: Trevor liking this 💀

trevorzegras’s story

Replies:

Jackhughes: you are a fucking asshole you know that right?

Trevorzegras: 😎🫶🤑👍

Jackhughes: what the fuck-

It was a widely known fact that Jack Hughes was never one for interviews. No professional athlete ever really was into them with how often they were asked the same questions. But given his most recent injury, and his time off, he finally agreed after being forced asked to do one from the comfort of his own apartment.

After 30 minutes of having to speak about his team’s playing in recent games, as well as details on his injury and when he is expected back, the end was finally in sight. There was little talk about Jack’s personal life, apart from if he had been talking to his brothers recently, which was quite frankly the most idiotic question. But he was happy, given the most recent rumors, the interviewer had not asked about Jack’s mysterious child he supposedly had and he had thought he had made it out, until…

The soft footsteps were almost inaudible, but as Jack had become accustomed to listening for them at all times, he had immediately heard Eva’s approach. After politely stopping the interviewer who was in the middle of asking what Jack did to fill his days now, the center turned to see his girlfriend’s little sister holding her blanket tightly with tear stained eyes.

“Aw Eva, didn’t have a good nap?” Jack cooed.

“Bad dream” was all the child said. At this, he beckoned the child forward, letting her sit in his lap as she tried to calm down, still fighting those post-breakdown tears.

Seeing that Jack was clearly locked in his own world, the interviewer cleared his throat.

“So, I assume this is the secret child we have been hearing a lot about recently?” He pressed.

“She is, but she isn’t my kid. She is my girlfriend’s little sister who is staying with us for a bit.” Jack was fine to clear up the fact that he was not a dad, but he didn’t feel the need to go into the heavy details on why Eva was staying with them. It wasn’t his place.

The interviewer went on to ask the 3 year old a few questions. What her favorite color was, what animals she liked, if she had a best friend, were all discussed at length. Jack was happy to have the spotlight off of him in his own interview, and his large smile as he looked down at the now happy and energetic girl was not unnoticed.

Once Eva’s interview was done, Jack, begrudgingly, went back to answering his, now with Eva settled into his lap. As he talked, she nuzzled into his chest as she went back to sleep. After noticing that she had dozed off, Jack knew he wasn’t going to be able to focus again on this interview, but luckily the man interviewing him had also noticed this.

“Well Jack, I’ll let you get that little one to bed. It was nice talking to you and Eva, hope to see you back on the ice soon.”

—

Eva went back to bed soon after, waking up in a much better mood than before. She was now sitting in the living room playing quietly while Jack made dinner, awaiting his girlfriend’s arrival.

He turns as the door opens, seeing his very tired girlfriend in the doorway.

“Oh wow, don’t you look like the perfect housewife.” She said pointing to his apron.

“You will have to wife me up soon, too many people are out here looking for a partner as great as me.” He quips back.

“Maybe… we will see. How was Eva today?”

“Had a nightmare and woke up early from her nap but she went back to sleep on my lap… during my interview.” His girlfriend turned around at that.

“Shit, I forgot you had that today. I am so sorry Jack I would have arranged a sitter for her.”

“No, no, it's fine I promise. Although now everyone knows about her. He asked her a few questions, nothing crazy just like her favorite toys and such.”

“What did you say about her?” She asks, concerned. Understandably, his girlfriend didn’t want her family’s dirty laundry out there for people to judge.

“Just that she was your sister and staying with us for a bit. If you don't want that I can ask my team to get it cut out. I would have asked you but I didn’t really have time.”

She is quiet for a moment while she thinks. Eva and her family situation was… complicated. Jack knew that. A three year old staying with her 22 year old sister and boyfriend was going to raise some questions from fans.

“It’s okay. People will find out eventually and now they know you don't have a secret child. I’m sure that is a relief.”

“Honey, you know damn well I didn’t care. And I see Eva as a daughter. She has been in my life almost as long as you have and I adore her. It was kind of cool to see people thinking I was a dad, and a good one at that.”

She was on the brink of tears hearing this. Bringing Eva home and raising her wasn’t easy, and despite how long they have been together, she was always insecure about how Jack truly felt, even though he had been nothing but accepting and loving to Eva.

“You’re right. Hey, maybe now she can go to games. She always asks when we watch at home.”

Jack lights up at the idea. “I'll get her a mini version of my jersey. I'll try to get you guys good seats. That will be great.” He immediately walks over to Eva, taking her in his arms as he asks her if she wants to go to one of his games.

Even after all this time, there is no better site than watching her sister laughing with Jack, a man that had no obligation to love Eva the way he did but did so tenfold.

#nhl imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x y/n #nhl x reader

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isaut · 4 months

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𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒓— f!reader x chrollo lucilfer. 2.5 k, refurbished. original: ao3

synopsis: during a simple heist job two years ago, chrollo offered you a cigarette outside the library. it isn’t his fault he fell in love with you, is it? I finally felt it was time to give this fic a face lift. I’ve changed a lot since I started her, and it only felt right. If this gets a sign off from tumblr.com I’ll change the ao3 version

The skyline of Sirap is stunning, with the silhouetted buildings twinkling with lights, a hum bubbling from the streets and from the blimps in the sky. It’s a place that Chrollo has found solace in, has even made a home and a routine for himself in the past few years. He’s overstayed his welcome, set by his own nature. It’s been years since he’s fallen back into his mysterious, nomadic ways.

Sitting in his study, Chrollo’s gaze is not on the skyline. He is not taking in the movements below him, taking up an old pastime of watching as people scurry by and wondering where they are going. Instead, his gaze is fixated on his computer, the blue light of the screen singing his eyes, drying them out. The pen in his hand clicks steadily against the stained oak of his desk.

The steady click click click of the pen does little to soothe the worries that have begun to stir in his stomach. The unsettling feeling on his soul as he reads the message before him.

It’s an email. From his bank. A simple request for 10 000 000 jenny. With a simple message attached.

I took care of the man who requested I eliminate your lover. I’ve forwarded his balance to you. You should receive a file from me shortly with details. Congratulations on your relationship.

In a brief fit of rage that is quite unbecoming of the man he wishes to present himself as, Chrollo slams his hand against his desk before lending back in his chair, stewing over the message. He tears his eyes away from the message, looking instead out the large windows before him. He takes a deep breath of the not fresh air, and it does little to calm his emotions.

As he watches a blimp float by in the sky, red light blinking against the darkness of the night, Chrollo can’t help but feel silly at how emotional he’s being. He can’t help but remember how he used to feel so indifferent, how everything felt stale.

Stale like the air around him.

With little reluctance, Chrollo sends the money over to his somewhat of an ally, Illumi. Their relationship was little more than constant transactions. He stands, stretches his arms above his head. Calling himself a banker had its pros: boring enough no one asked about it. It also had its cons: sometimes sitting in front of a computer for too long, researching his next thrill instead of boring into an excel spreadsheet.

Chrollo thinks that, at the end of the day, death suits him. Even if he’s falsely climbed into the carriage. Even if his back aches from time to time. He briefly considers doing a few of the stretches his lover had recommended. His lover who had gotten him in the mess. The one where he carefully removes bricks from the walls around him and lays new bricks as he lies to cover up his reality. His lover who was still probably perched in the living room, waiting for him to come out of his office.

The idea of you patiently waiting on the couch fills Chrollo with an uncomfortable guilt. He scrolls through his phone, looking for a text chain. He can’t find it, and resorts to drafting a new text in a small group message of just himself, Shalnark and Machi. If he took time to be truthful with himself, it felt odd texting the two of them. Even a year later, there’s an uncomfortable void, two of them in fact, of accumulated grief that press against his soul. He can’t shake it, nor can he steep in it.

We need to have a meeting. In the next few months.

Not ready to linger in those feelings, Chrollo locks his phone. Perhaps he’d mellow in those thoughts of the all consuming grief tonight, with your head resting on his chest as sleep washes over you. His gaze returns to the skyline. It’s dark out, it must be well past dinnertime.

Chrollo shuts down his computer with the forceful, long press of a button. Shalnark, who set up the device for him, is berating him for not using softer methods. Chrollo pockets his phone, eager to deposit it somewhere and forget about it until morning. The journey from his office to the living room isn’t a long one, and it’s one he can chart by the way you’ve dappled yourself along the path.

Gentle music flows from the living room, playing on the speakers that were brought from your apartment when you moved in. There’s a sweatshirt of yours on the ground that he picks up without much thought. He deposits it on the back of the couch, upon arriving to a deserted living room.

It’s not deserted. There’s a blanket that looks like it used to be wrapped around you, slumped in the corner of the couch. There’s a stack of essays on the middle cushion, and a pen set upon them. Half a glass of wine sits on the coffee table, and beside it is your iPad, unlocked.

Satisfaction brings the cat back. Chrollo leans over the iPad, investigating what you had been doing. He takes it upon himself to close the online shopping tab after seeing the total in the cart.

Rounding the corner, you hold a mug of tea in your hands. The brightness of the lemongrass tea fills the air, and you take a deep breath, both of the tea and of the sight of your boyfriend. Both senses wake you up.

Chrollo picks up the blanket, and sits in its place, throwing it over the armrest. He picks up the essay you had been in the middle of grading and flips it to the cover page. It’s thick, at least ten pages. A Turn About the Room: How Women Have Always Been the Secluded Ones.

“Done working?” You ask him.

Chrollo rests his arm along the backside of the couch to take you in. One of his shirts peeks out from below an oversized sweater of yours. Glasses perched atop your nose. He holds his hand out to you, palm up.

“You should be too.”

“I see how it is,” You say, coming over to his open hand. Your hand is still warm from holding the mug, and you slide your palm easily against Chrollo’s.

Only, the man before you isn’t Chrollo, no, there is no mass murderer before you. No grandiose thief. He’s just Kuroro, a man with a penchant for reading and a sadness behind his eyes that’s curtained by charisma and a modern day definition of chivalry.

A man who’s raising his other hand to take the mug from your own hands, the heat barely bothering him. His fingers twine with yours, and he brings your hand to his lips to place a kiss upon it.

“Do you?”

You nod, leaning over the back of the couch and into his personal space and pressing a kiss against his cheek. He smells warm, of mellow, musky notes that you’ve come to associate when you think of him. Home smells like Kuroro, it smells like the cologne he wears and the aftershave in the morning, curling with a warm drink and incense in the air.

It’s time to stop working for the day.

Rounding the couch, you take a seat right beside Kuroro. Truly, you’re more so on top of him with the way your knee hinges over his thigh. Neither of you care. Not when you’re so close, not when the world seems to just be the two of you.

Kuroro returns your mug to you, his now warmed hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’s work going?” You ask, blowing on your tea before taking a tentative sip.

Kuroro hums at your question, resting his hand on your thigh. He rubs his hand over the smooth, plush skin. He ponders over how to answer, how to toe the line between being honest and being deceitful. It’s all for your safety after all. And here he has been, thinking he’d been doing a good job of maintaining your blissful ignorance to the world he hid in.

“Stressful,” Kuroro admits, taking a deep breath before raising his gaze.

“Mon pauvre,” You murmur, “Want some tea?”

Pressing his brows together, Kuroro nods. You watch with infatuated eyes as he does just as you had earlier: blow on the warm drink, letting the steam lick up his face before taking a small sip.

“Want to go get dinner?” You pose. “I haven’t eaten yet… We could go to the sushi place down the block.”

The news Kuroro had received minutes earlier rings in his head. Bounces from ear to ear, unable to be ignored. He thinks of the mom and pop restaurant that had infatuated the two of you, of the kind couple who ran it. Of the grandma who greeted you everytime you came in. Who cooed over how cute of a couple you made.

He thinks of an assassination attempt on either one of you. Of the chaos it would cause, of the rubble and the debris. He can envision your scared expression. The dead bodies of the kind family he’d come to know so well.

It tugs at his heartstrings in a way he had believed was long since dead. Perhaps you had made him too soft. Too human. He felt the youth coursing through his soul again.

With reluctance, Kuroro shakes his head. “I’ll make us something. Then you don’t have to get dressed.”

“You’re so considerate,” You say with a smile. “What are we having?”

“I have to check the fridge,” Kuroro replies. “Want to join me in the kitchen?”

Of course you do. You’d altered your 10 year plan to accommodate the man. You’d follow him anywhere.

Kuroro is, in his nature, secretive. It has always carried a certain charm with it: adds to the allure of his dark hair, his well-read nature and clean dress. However, you’ve picked up on a few tells he carries around with him. For instance, when he’s set on surprising you there’s a boyish glint in his brown eyes. When he’s morose in thoughts of life, both his own and philosophical, he’s oddly talkative. Always eager to find solace with his head on your chest or in your lap. And when he’s had a bad day at work, he’s quiet.

You don’t like when he’s quiet. It’s not that you feel the need to fill silence with Kuroro. In fact, normally it’s quite the opposite. Silence is comfortable.

The silence that hangs in the kitchen is not the comforting closeness you’ve grown to love.

As Kuroro investigates the fridge for something to eat, you take it upon yourself to put on some music in the background. Amy Winehouse’s voice seeps through the silence.

“Do you want tteokbokki?” Kuroro asks, holding a bag of rice cakes in his hand. His other rests on the refrigerator door.

You come to stand beside him, peering into the fridge. It’s barren. Only a few condiments and pickled vegetables litter the shelves. You feel an emptiness in your stomach. Did you eat lunch?

“Sure,” You say, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “Do you want some help?”

“Just your company,” Kuroro responds smoothly, closing the door and wrapping his arm around your shoulders. The base notes of his cologne still cling to his skin. There’s cedar and vanilla. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, releasing you slowly.

The gesture has your heart skipping a beat. You feel your face warm, feel as Kuroro’s hand slides along your shoulders.

It makes Kuroro smile slightly, watching your reaction come over. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, then opens the refrigerator open again.

“Go sit. I’ll get you some more wine.”

You wet your lips as you take your place on the kitchen island. Kuroro sets the chilled white wine bottle in front of you, then busies himself in the kitchen, combining spices and sauces together and simmering them over low heat.

To keep his mind off whatever was bothering him, you launch into telling him about the essays you’ve been grading— Final papers for your class on women’s oppression in literature. You teach it every other year in the spring, and this conversation is reminiscent of one you had when you first met Kuroro.

This one is about Rokeya’s Sultana’s Dream and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. It’s a fresh take on Austen’s work, and you’re glad to see Rokeya being cited. There are a few inconsistencies in the line of reasoning, but the student is a year too young to technically take the course. She reminds you of yourself, if you’re being completely honest— Ambitious, if not a little scatterbrained.

Kuroro turns off the stove and sets the pot atop a woven potholder in front of you. He adds side bowls and chopsticks to the spread.

“I’d love to take a peek,” He says, getting himself a wine glass to join in with your drinking.

“You can. Want to see it now?”

Kuroro shakes his head and sits next to you. “You know I’ll get sauce all over it.”

Shrugging, you pick up your chopsticks. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve spilt on an essay. “Thanks for cooking tonight.”

“Careful, it’s hot,” Kuroro says as his you’re welcome.

Even with his stomach pleasantly full, the overhead fan humming, and you pressed up against his side, sleep evades Chrollo. He tilts his head to the side, his hair fanned out on the too soft pillow. All pillows are too soft to him, anyways. He cushions his head for your comfort.

Sleep’s tireless evasion from Chrollo is not one that he’s a stranger to. He often finds himself in this same position, surrounded by newfound comforts, his heart thrumming softly, his eyes on the twinkling lights of Sirap. Absentmindedly, he rubs his hand up and down your side, taking solace in the way your stomach moves with every deep breath you take.

When you don’t drink before bed, you’re quick to rouse at his gentle petting. Sometimes, you wake at even the slightest shift. Groggily blinking away and rubbing your eyes, trying to see what’s wrong in the pitch black room.

Not tonight. Tonight, you’re full and there’s wine in your brain. And Chrollo is alone with his thoughts.

He turns his head to look at you. Cranes his neck to place a kiss to the top of your head without jostling you.

There’s a grief on his soul tonight, and it’s not own he’s used to. Albeit accustomed to loss, Chrollo’s heart can’t fathom experiencing the gravity of loss again. To be responsible for someone’s death who was so innocent, who had nothing to do with the circumstances he put her in.

So he places another kiss to your forehead, and shifts himself to wrap both of his arms around you. Invites your legs to tangle against his. He closes his eyes, and despite wishing for sleep it continues to evade him. So he takes deep breaths of you: shampoo, bodywash, oils and lotions. He lays in the dark, simply waiting.

#chrollo x reader #by ophelia

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aimbutmiss · 1 month

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It was another long night in the office for Crocodile.

To be fair, it was never intentional. He always reminded himself to retreat to his sleeping quarters at acceptable hours as he sat down to get some work done, but the idea was forgotten the moment he picked up a document.

So, he had severe time management problems. Whatever.

He dropped the paper he was holding and rubbed his temple with a groan. He was getting too old for sleepless nights like this. But work never ended with Cross Guild. He had a lot of things to overlook, even with the help he had from Daz and Buggy, who surprisingly made quite the good businessman. And maybe he was being a bit too cautious—too detailed with his work, but he found out the hard way that attention to detail payed off. He wasn't new to all this, he had built Baroque Works from ground up and he had also very much done the same with Cross Guild. He was proud of his meticulous work habits. No matter how many sleepless nights he had, it was always worth it.

And he loved his office; it was his safe place. He loved having a little corner to himself, away from everyone and everything. Karai Bari was loud, always home to some type of festivity. Crocodile was never one for such ruckus, and only allowed it because it helped with crew morale. But no matter what stupid thing was going on out there, he could shut it out and hide in the peaceful silence of this room. He could crunch numbers day and night, without having to deal with nightmares in his bed.

Yes, Sir Crocodile had nightmares; for he was human like any other.

He wasn't ashamed of his demons, but he'd never admit it to anyone if asked about it. He had spent years building the strong, powerful persona he had. He had convinced many that he was invincible, without weakness. It would all crumble if the world found out he woke up in cold sweat some nights, tears staining his face.

Monsters did not cry.

He slammed his head on the desk and closed his eyes for a second. Trying to get his much needed rest from a few seconds of shut eye was ridiculous, but it was better than nothing.

Before he could get up and get back to work, the door to his office slowly opened. He could have looked up to see who it was, not that there were many people who would walk into his office in the dead of night, but he decided to act as if he had fallen asleep for some reason. He just... felt like it. He didn't move an inch as footsteps approached closer to his desk.

"That could be a fire hazard, you idiot."

The mysterious intruder turned out to be just Buggy, which was weird. The clown had no reason to pay him a visit, especially not at this hour. The man picked up the lit cigar on the ashtray and put it out. A few second later, he gently laid a blanket on the "sleeping" man's shoulders, making sure he was covered up nicely. He hadn't moved from his place, so he must have detached his hands to pick it up from wherever.

"You don't have to work yourself this hard, you stubborn old man."

Crocodile was suddenly hyper aware of everything: the smell of Buggy's newly washed hair; his hand on his back, drawing slow circles into his tense muscles... He felt himself involuntarily relax into the touch.

"I could have changed you into something more comfortable and carried you to your bed if you weren't built like a fucking sea king. Oh well, this should do for now."

Before his business partner left the room, he could barely feel him give a kiss on his head. Yet it was enough to make the hairs on his neck stand up.

Buggy walked to the door, trying his best to be silent, and shut the lights. He left with a gentle whisper of "Good night." and Crocodile didn't have it in himself to get up for the next... God knows how long.

Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep just like that. When he woke up the next morning, he had mild back pain from sleeping while hunched over a chair. But despite that, he hadn't slept so well in ages.

No nightmares, just a warm blanket and the lingering smell of shampoo.

#gentle crocobug save me #i told y'all croccy's time was coming #I got super carried away while writing this #I was just about to fall asleep but then this came to me in a flash and I just had to write it down #crocobug #buggy x crocodile #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #cross guild #one piece #my writing

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bettyfrommars · 9 months

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A blurb of biker!Eddie posing for reader for a future painting. The painting imagery of your choice, snarky jokes about being her French girl would be icing on the cake.

Thank you so much for this ask, Angie, it made my heart happy❤️

18+Only for mature themes. wc: 892

from the I'm on Fire au

biker!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader

“Babe,” you gave Eddie a look around the side of the big canvas you had propped on a wood easel. “You’re doing it again.”

Forever fidgeting, the man could never sit still. On the couch in front of you, Eddie rubbed his hands down his face with a groan and sat forward, placing elbows to knees. He’s shirtless, in a pair of jeans, with his guitar resting on the floor next to him. The wash of tattoos over his chest, stomach, and arms would be a challenge, but you planned to fill those details in later. You’d considered having him strip all the way down, but you didn’t want to traumatize Dustin’s family when they brought the baby over for a visit.

“I never realized how hard it would be to stay in one place for so long,” he mused, running his fingers through his hair. “How did those people in the old days do it? Just standing there. No wonder they all look like they are all mean muggin’ or trying to take a shit.”

You put the brush down and went over to him, softly taking his chin to make him look up at you, your hand stained with charcoal and white paint flecks. You swept the curtain of his bangs to one side with your other hand, meeting the weariness in his maplewood eyes with love and patience.

“You’re on your bike for hours some days. This is just like that,” you tried to reason with him.

Eddie reached up to settle his hands at your hips. “No but that’s different. On the bike I’m moving fast and the wind is in my face, my mind is clear. Now, all I can think about is everything I need to fix and work on in this house. I want it all to be perfect for you, for us.”

It’d been almost six months since Eddie surprised you with the keys to the old Ferguson farmhouse, the one you’d both had your eye on for a while. Indeed, the place was over a hundred years old and needed a lot of work, but you had your paints and you had Eddie, and the rest just didn’t matter as much.

You let go of his chin and he leaned in to plant a kiss on your stomach before tilting his chin up to meet your gaze again.

“This is really important to me, baby,” you tucked hair behind his ear, and then untucked it, and you could feel him searching your face. “One day, Oliver or one of the other kids will put this painting in their home to remember their uncle Eddie. And they’ll know the person who painted it loved you more than life.”

Eddie’s arms were suddenly around your waist, pulling you down into his lap, pecking kisses all along your neck and face, making you squirm and giggle. He was fresh out of the shower, smelling like Irish Spring; his hair air-dried and fluffy. When he came up for air, you caught his face between your hands.

“Please, baby. For me,” you pleaded. “Just an hour or two a day, I know you can do this.”

“For you, I will,” his lips met yours, brushing them as he spoke, but then a smile cracked the sides of his mouth. “I want you to paint me like one of your French girls.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you beamed, batting your eyelashes, pushing out of his lap and onto your feet. You decided not to remind about the time you rented Titanic, and Eddie was the one with wet eyes, holding you close as if he were about to lose you to the frigid, dark waters. He held you so tight that night in bed, waking up every hour to check and make sure you were still there.

When he felt you shift and knew you were awake, he’d whispered into the back of your neck: “If something ever happened to you, I don’t think I’d be able to move on.” And even though you were not privy to the mysteries the future held, you assured him that you’d both grow old together and pass away at the same time.

Back in the art room, you brushed your hands off on your apron and got in front of the canvas. “Okay, let’s try this again,” you picked up one of the charcoal pencils to sharpen it. “You can have a smoke if you want, baby, just don’t move your legs.”

“Anything for you, Jack,” Eddie chirped, eager to pop a cigarette between his lips, cupping his hand over the end to light it.

In the end, the smoldering cigarette between his fingers made it into the painting. Legs wide, guitar propped to one side, one hand resting on his thigh, the other arm hooked around the back of the couch so he could flick the ash into an empty can of Coke. His jeans were unbuttoned, purple scar on one side of his stomach, and he wasn’t smiling, but the light of love in his eyes was unmistakable as dark hair spilled around his shoulders.

Decades later, Steve’s son Oliver would never tire of telling the story when people asked about the painting. The story of a down and dirty biker named War Machine and the woman he devoted his life to.

#biker!Eddie #I'm on Fire #older!Eddie munson #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie munson series #Eddie munson fluff

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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 2 months

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Time to make another crazy request with lyney!!

Lyney goes to the same school as the reader and finds them in a complete panic attack hiding under the stairs! *Don't feel forced to do it if u don't wanna*

If you do wanna do it please make it a gn!reader!! Much love💕

The breathing exercises hurt- lyney x gn!reader

They don’t do f3ck all t/w- panic attack, physical touch, lyney being cute summary- as shown above a/n- i love this request! it so cute!

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The bell rang to signal the end of lunch but you weren’t going anywhere, You couldn’t. Well, at least that's what it felt like. Despite there being nothing but one wall supporting your back you feel claustrophobic, You were shaking and the thoughts just wouldn’t stop. They raced around and around like a race car. The sounds of people collecting their stuff and the loud chatter and heavy steps were too loud.

No one ever came this way, you were hoping no one did especially now. You looked so vulnerable, your eyes puffy and red, your cheeks tear-stained. The concrete was somewhat comforting,

These thoughts only ended up reverting to your panic attack. Why won't it stop? Why. Why! A pair of footsteps came from around the corner. You didn’t realise until a blonde-haired boy was standing right in front of you.

“Oh my. Are you alright?” He sat down in front of you trying to be quiet enough not to startle you.

You couldn’t form the words to tell the boy to go away. You started to notice some details about him. He had medium-length blonde hair and on his left cheek, he had the mark of a tear. Nothing else stuck out much except his ocean-like eyes.

“Hey look at me. Can you try and tell me your name? If not that okay.”

You tried to form some words, and you ended up telling him your name.

“Y/n okay what I want you to do is focus on 5 things you can see.”

You could barely see past the tears that clouded your vision and even if you could you couldn’t speak. The walls kept closing in and you were almost choking on sobs.

“May I touch you, as in hold your hand?”

You could only nod, you didn't mind physical comfort and it might be worth a try. You felt his hand against your own bringing warmth to your body. “Can you focus on my touch then?”

You felt warm and fuzzy. His finger began to rub against your hand soothingly, and you could feel the tears slow down. You started to recite the 5 things you could see. “The clouds outside sniff the umm concrete…” You paused, he was smiling at you, you’d never had anyone look at you like that before.

“You're doing great.” He squeezed your hand a bit tighter.

Your breathing was still irregular but was almost starting to return. “You… The sky… And um birds.”

His smile brightened, “do I need to go through the rest of the thing? Or are you feeling better?”

“I think im okay now sniff”

“That's great!”

A silence fell between you two, and you then realised you’d never asked this mysterious boy's name before. He answered you saying his name was Lyney.

“Most people would’ve walked past… How did you know what to do?”

“My brother has panic attacks. he usually comes to me to help him.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder without thinking, he turned away and covered his face. Lyney wrapped his arm around you pulling you closer. You didn’t mind this he was war and was quite a comfy makeshift pillow. Safe to say you would be spending the rest of the period with him.

Taglist

@pandragonsoul @atsukawolfcat

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usopps-devotee · 1 year

Text

Not your fault

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, someone PLEASE give luffy a hug he needs it

@zoro-kun because you love angst

@euphofic because you also love angst as well as luffy

W.c 1.1k

Part 2: Burnout

It had been late and you were tired, unlike the rest of the crew who seemed to have boundless energy, you just wanted to sleep. Fight after fight, days with little to no rest, yet they still had the energy to party. You on the other hand went back to the ship to get some rest.

Luffy hadn't expected anyone to leave the bar, nor had he expected someone to come back to the ship when yall rented a room for the time spent on the island. He didn't hear the sound of you stepping on the deck of the sunny or walking up to him till it was too late to hide. Mortified as you stare at his tear-stained face, he's expecting you to tell him to suck it up, be a man, and so many other ways of telling him that his emotions made him weak.

Instead, you walk towards him slowly and carefully as if approaching a wild animal, holding your arms out for an embrace. You have no clue what's going through your captain's head, no one ever does, it's one of Luffy's many mysteries. All you know is he needs comfort, he looks like he wants to run, and knowing Luffy he just might. Seeing him hesitate you drop to the deck, not caring about the pain that shot through your already aching knees, arms still held out.

He's clinging to you in an instant, rubber arms pulling his body to yours, knocking the both of you over. His sniffles now sob as he cried into your chest, your shirt is immediately soaked in tears and snot but for the moment you could care less. You ran a hand through his hair, nails caressing his curls and scalp as his hat lay on the floor. Your other hand rubbed comforting circles in his back, slowly deviating in shape. You're startled by the small sorry that left your captain, you've never heard his voice so strained, so pitiful. Heart-shattering in a million pieces as you hold him tighter.

"It's okay Luffy, I promise. Let it all out, I'm here for you."

At that moment, whatever emotions he desperately tried to hold on to slipped through him like water. Years of guilt, anger, sadness, and who knows what else he may not have been able to express, are finally being felt. He's squeezing you so tightly in the back of your mind you're worried you might pop. You remind yourself that his ache is worse than yours, what you've injured for minutes, he's suppressed for years.

Eventually, Luffy lets you know what's on his mind, you're not even sure if he knows he's doing so. Babbling about his past and every mistake he's ever made, losing both sabo and ace, almost losing his crew, every time he's lost a fight, he even tells you about shanks losing his arm. All while blaming himself, blaming his incompetence, his arrogance, his weaknesses, his emotions, everything luffy perceived to be a flaw about himself. Choking on his own words while crying, between hiccups and gasping for air.

You had no clue he had been feeling this way, you doubted the rest of the crew did as well. Before this, you wouldn't have had a clue in the world about the stresses he holds on to. What thoughts keep him awake at night, what he fears more than anything else? Now more than ever you want to keep him safe from the rest of the world.

"If I wasn't so weak things would have turned out better."

"Luffy, it's not your fault. None of it is. Some of these things happened to you as a kid. Even with allies around that was stronger than you might have been at the time, not even they could have stopped what happened. It's not your fault."

Luffy finally lifted his head to look at you, he looked broken, the sight alone almost make you start to cry as well. Tears still flowing like rivers in Egypt, you're in denial about how much snot is covering the both of you. His eyes look over every detail of your face to look for a lie, to see the moment when the rug is pulled from under him and you become just as cold as everyone before. He doesn't expect you to place the straw hat back on his head and brush his hair out of his face, he doesn't expect you to pull him closer and kiss him on the forehead.

He's completely astonished when you tell him that it's okay. It's okay to be afraid sometimes, it's okay to have regrets, and it's okay to have made mistakes, and everyone does. He's never been able to let his guard down around anyone this much, he doesn't know what to do with all the trust he's placed in you. Luffy feels like he's been shattered and here you are picking up the pieces from so long ago.

Another sob racked through his body at your words, he's trembling like a leaf, and the only thing keeping him grounded is you. For years Luffy has been told by so many others his emotions are unacceptable. To hear you speak this truth so softly, so sweetly, he almost wants to deny it but he can't. He wants to cut in and say the things he could, or rather in his head, should have done. He wants to give a rebuttal to every claim that you've laid to rest. But he can't, he just can't.

There is logic to what you have to say, there's reasoning in your words he can't deny. If anything he's questioning all the others who told him not to cry, not to feel, not to express or let anything out. He's doubting what he's been taught, parts of him wonder what other lies he's been told, he'll have to ask you one day.

Slowly but surely he calms down, sniffling as he tries to catch his breath. Taking the time while he's off of your chest, you removed the soaked shirt, wiping away the rest of the tears and snot covering his face. "Why don't we get something to eat hmm? I'm sure the walk and some good food will help." He nods hesitantly, despite his lack of movement. You toss the shirt aside to worry about it later. For now, you're worried about the fact that Luffy's eyes had yet to leave the ground, and when they do he ask you a question that you could never deny.

"Can you hold me for just a little longer?"

#one piece x reader #one piece #monkey d. luffy #luffy x y/n #luffy angst #one piece luffy #mugiwara no luffy #Denial is a river in Egypt #luffy x you #luffy x reader

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writerofjourneys · 1 year

Note

Hi! If requests are still open, could I request Akira/Joker with a female reader who's a phenomenal cook?

Making him lunches, snacks, and occasionally breakfast and dinner too. Boy's bout to be spoiled.

Cooking for Joker

Fandom(s): Persona 5

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Fem Reader

Headcanon

Content: Fluff, romance, food, established relationship, marriage, married life, aged up characters, cooking, domesticity, soft Joker, taking care of each other, affection, declarations of love.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫

As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira is busy preparing for heists and fighting Shadows. But not just for being a leader of a mysterious infamous group, he’s busy everywhere. Ranking up confidants, fusing Personas, stocking supplies, studying, Akira’s been dealt with a lot of responsibilities since he got to Tokyo.

Eating at Big Bang Burger all the time and doing those challenges isn’t healthy on a regular basis. He does eat out with the team and his confidants sometimes. And Sojiro does cook breakfast for him on occasion.

But he will have a tendency to overwork himself and forget his own needs. He’s also taking care of Morgana, another mouth to feed besides himself. During lunchtime, Akira would either share his meal or just give it to Morgana.

Though since Morgana is known to keep track of his bedtime, the cat will make reminders for him to eat. The talking feline does pride himself for being responsible.

But you making food for him will send his heart soaring. He’s a lanky male, not too thin, but not so muscular, so he could still go for some more meat in his bones. It’s not only a sweet gesture but also an efficient way to help feed your hardworking boyfriend. He may even blush a little from the adoring sentiment.

Making bentos for him? Touching. Making matching bentos for the two of you? Adorable. Especially if you’re putting great details in the lunches, like making cute faces in the shape of animals and such. Akira will tease that it looks far better to admire, but he’ll happily finish the bento until there’s nothing left. He’s never been a picky eater so he’s open to try anything you make.

Learning about your cooking skills definitely impresses him. Akira likes to improve his own culinary abilities. Working with Sojiro behind the counter helped him discover that passion. So being a phenomenal cook, he’d gladly ask for tips and advice once in a while.

Akira finds himself astounded that someone like him, someone carrying a false criminal record serving probation in an unfamiliar place alone, could have such a loving girlfriend caring for him. He always makes sure to not let you forget his own affections and how much everything you do means.

It becomes a routine for you two to meet up at lunchtime and eat together. Sitting side by side closely, across with legs touching. There’s no doubt that Akira will happily reciprocate in taking turns making meals for you both. A good way to practice his cooking skills despite his busy schedule. If you were to ever be unable to make it, Akira will feel your absence greatly.

Breakfast? Probably best to have something easier to eat as you walk to Shujin side by side on weekdays. It is true as they say that to a person’s heart in general is through the stomach. If you stopped by carrying food filled containers to eat at LeBlanc, Sojiro has no problem with it. He does agree that Akira should be mindful of eating. Depending on if said containers are washable, he’ll let you keep them at the café until you take them back.

Feeding each other is a thing in private. When no one is there, Akira will offer a piece of food to your lips, expression cheeky. It’s something you’d only do behind closed doors.

And in reverse, he’s happy to welcome a spoonful from you. Wiping a stain on his mouth gets him a bit bashful. A napkin? Cute. Your own tongue? Now his face got even redder.

But beware, the leader of the Phantom Thieves has tricks up his sleeve. He’ll reciprocate the action in a sneaky way to tease back.

Dates spent cooking and eating together is very domestic and wholesome. Trying new recipes, sharing some, it’s a lovely way to spend time with one another. Though you’d probably spend that in your home rather than his. Because as nice as the coffee and curry is at the café, you’d have more privacy and space to work on. Akira always has a look in his eyes when he gazes upon you, so much so it makes you bashful every time you see it.

Food turns into a new love language between you.

And once you become adults? Naturally, living together is expected after the deepening of your relationship growing from being high school sweethearts. Cooking together becomes a real staple in your household. Working different jobs may not always let you cook together, but having the thoughtfulness of making food for the other is still as meaningful.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #persona 5 royal #x reader #reader insert #persona 5 protagonist #p5 #p5r #akira kurusu x reader #akira kusuru #ren amamiya x reader #ren amamiya #fanfic #p5 joker #p5 protagonist #persona 5 joker #p5 x reader #p5 royal #headcanon

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battlekilt · 9 months

Text

To my discovery, I seem to be an outlier that has thought, in great, detail about Rex hearing the story of Anakin Skywalker defending the Temple against the 501st men, and being slain by this Lord Vader.

I think about this scene all the time, from Rex's POV—obviously.

Because the truth was, Anakin was a GOAT of a Jedi. But also? The 501st was Spec-Ops; they helped trained Ahsoka, and Anakin taught his men specifically how to be better soldiers alongside him. The 501st and Anakin knew each other's tactics far more intimately than other Jedi-Clone units did. Rex knew too well how a fight between them and Anakin would have been disastrous for both. Numbers would have swarmed Anakin, he would have killed so many.

Rex's imagination much have just played over and over and over and over again how many of his men's lives his General—who he was so clearly loyal to, but also... proud to serve—fell. He must have imagined that moment when the mysterious new Sith Apprentice showed up, backed up his men, and provided the aide and support needed to take Skywalker's life. The scenario must have played over and over again, none of them merciful.

Every time another body fell, it was another shot in Rex's heart. But, so too was the moment he imagined when his men's blasterfire joined in Vader's blade. When their men had the power of gravity, and pulled Skywalker's lifeless husk onto the beautiful, polished, Temple floor.

Think about Rex being able to conjure the image of the Temple so clearly in his mind. He knows how his men fought, he KNOWS how Anakin fought, and with his tactical abilities... he could think of so many scenarios that could have very well played out—and he'd know it. He'd sit in the dark and just know any one of them could have been exactly how they happened... and it would HAUNT him that the two fought each other. Killed each other. That HIS men would have helped spill Skywalker's blood on that pristine, reverent floor as his General died trying to defend the children and the elderly. Rex would have known that Anakin would have fought until he couldn't, and it would EAT him up to picture his helmeted men staring down at Skywalker's bloodied face.

And he'd wonder: Who picked up the General's lightsaber? Was it Appo? Did Appo pick it up and hand it over to this Lord Vader?

That horrible, twisted wish that Skywalker killed as many men of their men—as many of HIS BROTHERS—as possible. Men whom Anakin knew by name helped many of them pick out their names and how Skywalker remembered them all. Men that Anakin would recognize by the sound of their voice, a feat only Clones learned to do. Their General, who laughed with them, painted their armor with them.

I can just imagine old-man Rex maybe opening up and talking about this to Ahsoka and Ahsoka? Refusing to correct him. She isn't going to be the one to tell her old friend what he's figured out—what she learned actually happened to Anakin. There's no way she's telling her aging Cloned friend that Anakin, Rex's GENERAL, was Vader—that it had been HIM who led the 501st on the Temple.

Yeah, I think about this a lot—how for the rest of Rex's days, he thought over and over again about what must have happened at that Temple. The role each of them had to play. I think about how Rex's speculative thoughts about his men's role in the Temple's purge and their role in General Skywalker's death.

So, I think about how Ahsoka let him think of these horrors, these nightmares. Because she knew the truth would break his heart more than the images he already played in his head.

The truth would have been a death kneel to Rex's faith, his heart, and his spirit, and I think Ahsoka knew that. There was enough blood-stained betrayal in the old Clone's heart, and I think she would let him imagine that their men, his brothers, had killed their General Skywalker of no fault of their own, and the Jedi Knight he had served for years had instead died valiantly.

#anakin skywalker #captain rex #ahsoka tano #darth vader #order 66 #clone king #jedi: skywalker #sith: vader #kilt's meta #kilt's writing #bucket's writing #bucket's meta

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narcissarina · 28 days

Text

𝔊𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔫 ℭ𝔞𝔤𝔢, 𝔅𝔩𝔲𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

જ⁀➴Previous chapter

Pairings: bodyguard!Leon × college billionaire!reader

Word count: 2,684

Tw: Blood, deaths, guns, killings, reader vomiting, suggestive. + I hate how I wrote the last part aaaaaa

Summary: You and Leon went to find the second and third pieces, what about the fourth?

𝚇.

Leon filled you in with his objectives, what he needs to do and what to find to bring back to the D.S.O while taking down fucked up mutations and entity’s that came straight out from a horror movie, but he left a certain detail out because he doesn’t want to worry you.

You have the pieces that he needed.

“A cube that glows?” you tilt your head, Leon nodded. “And it was destroyed in pieces so it can’t be at its full potential because when it was given to the wrong hands, it’ll cost chaos?” You spoke in a concerned and confused tone, “that’s right.” Leon chuckle.

“Damn, that came straight out of a horror film.”

Leon smiled at your words as he watch you eat some energy bar that he found, he brushes off the bits in the corner of your mouth as your eyes bore to his.

Then you remembered, yesterday there was something stuck inside your wound and that you have to pull it out with the tweezers. It was small, glowing and it burns your flesh when you touch it without gloves.

“I think I saw one piece.” You hum in delight, knowing that you could help Leon and yourself to get out of here. He’s interest piqued and gave his attention to you, “really? Where?” he asked, moving closer to you.

You search for your bag and take the fabric with the stone inside, it was nearly folded as you open it up—he saw the weak glow of the stone. “How?” he raise a brow, “I found it stuck inside my wound, and I tell you. It fucking hurts.” You shove the fabric with the stone to him.

“It does say that they only took a couple off to the stone, right?” Leon nodded, tucking the stone back to your bag at the bottom. Neatly placing it so it doesn’t accidentally slipped off the fabric, “does it say the specific number that they took? Like, five or six or below?” you kept asking question, he knows that you’re eager to find them so the two of you can go home and forget that this event never happened.

“I think they only took the edges of the cube,” He moves his head to his head and lean back, you could hear his muscle crack. “Since it’s a cube, we need to find only four of it.” Leon spoke as he let out a satisfying groan after cracking some of his bones and muscles.

You blinked at him and finish the energy bar, “when we get home, I’m getting you a massage therapist.” You offered to Leon, which he was grateful and nodded. He didn’t refuse your offer since he knows you’ll only keep insisting and hired the therapist no matter what.

The room was filled with silence for a while, you look at your watch and it was already 11:30 in the morning.

Leon stood and brush off some dust, he crack his back to relieve the stiff muscle. “Old man.” Those words slipped from your mouth without thinking, “at least this old man can still do the job.” He smirked and helped you up, “you ready?” he asked, his hand at the back of your neck as he brush his thumb to your skin.

You nodded and slip the bag in your arms.

“remember, stay behind me and stay close as you can.”

The mansion was big, much better than your fathers mansion. You could get easily lost here if your father decides to buy as big as this mansion, you knew you’d get lost and had to ask a servant to escort you back to the main lobby.

It was… beautiful, as you describe. It may be ruined but the beauty of this mansion remains, it was such a shame to see it in this poor state.

You stayed close to Leon as you can, clinging to his arm as you were the one holding the light when Leon needed something in the dark, your anxiety would grow if Leon asked you to stay behind if he needed something to take care of to himself.

As mysterious as the house can be, it was full of puzzles, notes and blood stains to walls, tables, and beds. It was everywhere, you had to keep your weep a muffle when entities that couldn’t be killed are nearby. You have to choke on it or bury yourself to Leon.

When the two of you need to hide, you froze in fear and Leon had to carry you away and settle you close to him.

“baby, stop freezing when we need to hide. We’re not in a freeze tag game.”

That’s what he said and you try to do what he said, you don’t want to be a heavy burden than you’re already are. Whenever you hear weird breathing nor loud footstep, you alert Leon and quickly find a place to hide for the two of you.

Sometimes, the hiding spot could be… a little tight for two people, you could feel his built frustrations down there when you two hid inside the locker. You didn’t voice your concern, what the hell are you going to say?

“hey Leon. Your dick is hard, are you okay?”

That sounds so dumb, you’ll embarrass yourself and Leon might not even talk to you after that.

Although, he was big. As if his cock was screaming to be let out from the confinement of his pants. Leon noticed your flushed redden cheeks and ears, when he asked if you’re all right, you brush it off and told him you are fine.

You just kept your mouth shut, and every time you two had to hide. You can’t help but be tense and not squirm to his hold and when your ass is literally at his dick, would be better to fuck you when you get home rather than fucking in such place like this, right?

You and Leon searched for more clues inside an office, it was bloody and a wreck—as if a psychopath had finally lost their mind and snapped.

Leon had gone to the drawers and cabinets while you searched on the office table and its cabinets. You open every drawers to find something inside like paper and pens and a disturbing message, as if you’re playing a video-game and that you’re a sucker for the lore.

Leon was swift with his movement, he made quick search for something. Desperately finding anything that could help you two, to find the other three missing pieces and that could lead the two of you to the cube itself.

He was growing frustrated and the bulge in his pants were not helping him, he needs to let out some relief. He needs to jerk off where you can’t see him, but he knew better than leave you behind.

He has no choice but to hold it in.

You were rummaging inside each drawer but still find none, you grew frustrated and frown at the hopelessness you’re feeling. You see one figurine on the desk that’s been left untouched, the desk is filled with blood stain so why is this figurine is the only thing that’s clean?

It was small and cute, you want to pick it up and shove it in your bag and pretend it’s a souvenir, I mean, no one will claim it, right? You thought inside your head, it’s not stealing when the owner is now dead, right?

You pick it up, but a string was pulled from below. The ground shook as you support your body to the desk, it caught Leon off guard as he looks at you and gestures you to come close, “come here!” he said as you ran to him, almost tripping yourself when Leon caught you.

Bricks and woods pieces fell from above the ceiling, a door was open before you as he held you in a tight embrace—making sure that you’re not hurt.

“Fucking great, another secret room.” Leon mumbled, he palms his face and let out a sigh, you look at him confused, “I mean, secret rooms are cool, right?” you mumbled.

He chuckle and nodded, “yeah, it’ll get us quickly killed. So cool that monsters that we couldn’t kill emerge and attacked us.” His tone filled with sarcasm, you look at him dumbfounded as a tear slip from your cheek.

“I’m joking…” you sniffle at his words, “it’s not a good joke.” You frown and hit him with a book you picked up nearby, “I know.” He confesses and stood up with you in his arms.

“Do you wanna come with me or stay here?”

“I wanna go down with you.”

Leon respect your wishes and brings you close to him, “stay close, princess.” He said, urging you to cling to his arm as you two held flashlights as you went down.

It was dark, pitched dark. As if the void is sucking you two in and you don’t even know it. You found a light switch, you turn it on and it was dimly lit. It was a small dungeon, bar cells in each side of the room and at the end of the hall is another office.

You remember that you had a nightmare similar to a dungeon, you see faces that aren’t human and they make sounds that aren’t human. It made you scared and come crying to your mother when you were only five.

You’re twenty, and this shit still scares you. You look at each cell and there’s a skeleton nor dead body each, but one particular cell caught your attention and that it gave you a chill down your spine.

There was another monster that you and Leon couldn’t kill.

But it was different? It only stood there—watching, tilting its head until it scares you off. Leon was bothered but unfazed, it let out a small disturbing laugh as he pulled you inside the office so you wouldn’t get more nightmares.

The office… is a fucking mess. It was full of blood splatter and it’s too dark in here, the light barely fucking works. Leon kept you close to him so you wouldn’t feel too scared, he squeezed your hand tight, “it’s okay, I’m here.” He mutters as he spotted a faint glow from behind the desk, “fucking finally…” he said, “see it wasn’t that bad.”

You smiled at him as Leon led you to a corner, so you are assured that there’s no one behind to come and get you.

He made his steps light and towards the faint glow, he turned his lights on and it was a little unusual—it was covered with thick skin. His heart dropped when he realized that it was inside to one of the entities that they couldn’t kill—they were one of the experiment.

God, Leon couldn’t imagine you turning into one of them. Good thing you took that thing off of your leg or else he’d have to kill you too.

The creature screeched at him, as if it has two or five voices. Are there five people inside this thing that they just merge them together? That would be one fucked up experiment.

“Shit!” Leon curses, “don’t move! Stay there.” He command to you, you felt scared as the entity was more bigger than the one Leon first encounter.

Pale skin.

Black eyes.

The mouth was open wide, as if the corner of its lips reached through the back.

You pray that Leon would be left unharmed after taking care of that big thing, his moves were quick but too quick to counter as Leon almost flew across the room.

Your mind is spinning, you grip on to your pistol as you desperately search a way to help Leon. Something caught your eyes though, there was something throbbing from the monsters temple, it looks like an ass hole. Maybe that could be the weak point?

You steady your hand and aim right it as it pinned down Leon to the ground, trying to eat his head off. The screeching was loud and it was screaming at Leon—wanting to get a taste of his head so the entity can feast on you next.

Finger on the trigger, you pray that you don’t miss as you shoot.

Bang—

Your eyes were closed as your back slide from the cold wall. You held your pistol close, not wanting to see if you either miss or you shot it perfectly.

You take a peek, and it was lying on top of Leon, “fucking heavy.” Leon mutters and pushed the creature with all his might to the side, take his knife out and cut open its legs and take the second piece out.

He looked at you with a proud smile, “thanks.” He said, “no problem.” You squeak out the words as a smile grew from your lips, “did I do well?”

“You sure did, princess.”

Good thing he has gloves on, he takes the second piece and wrapped it with thick clothing—rolling it so it wouldn’t slipped out, he handed it to you and swept you up to your feet. He open the office door for you, when you got out—the entity in the cell was out and rushes to you.

It caught you off guard as it targeted you, not Leon.

It was on top of you, the grip is like a grip of steel. It is fucking impossible to make its hands open, when you hit it with your pistol. It didn’t gave any reaction.

You were almost seeing the light, and your life will soon flash before your eyes.

Bang—

Another gun shot was heard, the grip softens as the thing bled from the back of its head—dripping down as its black blood hit your cheeks. You screech in disgust and pushed it away, you cough and sat up. Leon assist you and soothes your neck, massaging it gently and hugging you tight.

“I forgot to mention that they have weak points,” you spoke in as you cough, “figured.” You turn to him and tilt your head to ask how, “it looks like someone’s anus, princess.” You choke at your saliva when he said that.

“somethings glowing.” He points out, taking his knife again and slicing the monsters back—it revealed its spine which made you wanna puke so bad. “Got the third one.” Leon announced as you put a thumbs up.

“yeah, great job getting the third one while you’re unfazed on how you fucking sliced its back, it’s showing its spine and shit.”

You gag and finally vomits at the nearby bin, Leon hums and pats your back—supporting you and gentle pats to encourage you to let it all out.

“There, there.” He said while taking care of the third piece and slipping it in your bag.

“What the fu—” you vomit some more, you felt sick to your stomach after a good vomit.

Leon nodded and took the bag from you, “I’ll carry onto this.” He slips it from either from his arms. “I reckon that the last one is at the big dude or the thing that chased you.”

Leon escorted you back to the office from above and let the two of you rest for a while.

Time check: 4:30 PM.

Sun will soon set, Leon needs to find the last piece as soon as he can. But he priorities your comfort first, if you want to rest—then he’ll rest with you. He won’t go anywhere.

“Never,” you start and hold back a vomit, “do that again.” You added and rest your back against the desk, Leon sat beside you and had his hand to your waist, bringing you close and laying your head to his shoulder.

“Then I need you to close your eyes then.”

“Exactly.”

You still feel sick, you gaze at his eyes as he gaze back to yours.

“what is it?”

“I wanna rest for a while before we continue.”

“Then rest, princess.” He kissed your forehead and caress the side of your waist.

“I’m here, always and will be.”

Next Chapter>>>

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mayasaurusss · 1 month

Note

I've been thinking about transmasc!shauna :(((

-💗

A/N: Hi 💗anon! I'm so so sorry I took this long to make this but i was conflicted on two ideas I got, since i didn't know if you wanted a sfw or nsfw headcanon/blurbs or a oneshot so, since I'm so cool and amazing, I did both! So, expect a Transmasc!Shaun oneshot (with a little twist ;) ), to come out in a few days.

Warnings: sfw, short and maybe kinda rushed, ooc Shaun, he is a clumsy and embarrassed boy, he is taller than us here because I said so, beginning of a relationship.

ANON! If you wanted general transmasc Shauna blurbs with more details about you, him and his journey with transition, ask away! I'd be more than happy to do them! I'm sorry if this isn't what you expected, I wasn't completely sure about how to do this but I tried my best!

Shaun who would fall in love with you the first time he sees you reading 'Pride and prejudice' on a bench outside of school.

He is totally smitten with you. He definitely told Jackie right away about his little crush and she, like the best friend she is, made a detailed plan on how to get your attention. And, since Jackie has befriended you -came to your desk after you had just moved schools and, oh so casually asked to be your friend- at the start of the school year (Shaun thinks:"What? She hasn't told me?" with an annoyed look on his face), this could flow all more smoothly.

This detailed plan consists of: Jackie approaching you after class with the intent of asking you to hang out after school, Shaun barging in the conversation asking Jackie something about helping him with literature studies -which Jackie knows is your favorite subject ever in your course-, excusing herself from his demands and asking you to aid her friend. It's perfect, Jackie thinks, Shaun feels this is too much but who is he to complain? Everything goes smoothly till, when he has to act his part in the plan, Shaun accidentally trips on thin air and falls, the contents of his backpack spilling all over the ground and the remains of his coffee staining his papers and shirt.

He is silent, his cheeks getting red with embarrassment. Both him, Jackie and you do not move for a moment, until the first one to move is you. You neatly pick up the papers and books that have fallen near you, meeting his eyes and looking at him with worry, "Are you ok?". His lips feel dry and his blood pressure rises causing him to redden even more than before "U-u-hh I... I am okay...", he feels like he is going to melt on the spot.

When he gets up, you have already helped him with all of his belongings, Jackie hadn't moved at all from her spot, too embarrassed (even if she hadn't been the one to be utterly humiliated in front of her crush). You try to lighten up the situation, joking about it all, Shaun laughs with you but he is in discomfort: the only chance he had to be the 'cool mysterious guy' blew off of his face, leaving a clumsy and stupid version of himself to the girl in front of him. You, on the other hand, don't think of him in that way: sure it was a bit embarrassing, and also funny, but he must've felt really embarrassed so you don't think about it too much.

Sometime passes, Shaun for the first days after closes himself in his room, remembering it all and changing inside his mind what happened. Jackie tries to call him, but he is unreachable; everything is starting to get ridiculous so Jackie rings the bell of Shaun's house and finds before her, her friend emotionally destroyed. She tries to comfort him, but to no avail; he is also angry at her but he won't mention it, otherwise Jackie would never let him hear the end of it. Much to his surprise, Jackie says that you asked him, "Is he ok? I haven't seen him" and "If he still needs help with the exam, I am here". He is very much red by now, the little hairs at the end of his neck standing up and his eyes watery. "...Really?".

When you meet him again, Shaun is tidy, he wears one of his flannel shirts and gray jeans, he has shaved the uneven peach fuzz that grew on his lips due to testosterone, and has a small red cut on the left side of his lip ("Who knows what she likes?" he tells Jackie while messily shaving himself "And besides I don't want to look like a barbarian!" says while unnoticing the small cut that he made. "Ah!" Jackie laughs, "Now you look like you've gotten into a fight with a cat!"). He tries to act cool, despite his total lack of knowledge on how to. When he sits down with you for the study session, the common hall is silent and you have to whisper, causing him to get a bit flustered. Your study session is cut short when you guys start to have an actual full-on conversation; unknowingly, you both start to talk and laugh a bit more loudly than normal, causing both of you to be escorted out of the library. Out, you two forgot completely your duties and spent an entire afternoon hanging out and talking. You notice it's starting to become dark, and when you look at the hour you see that you've lost an entire afternoon of study: you apologize profusely to him, and schedule another meeting. He can't complain, he gets to see you more.

For a while, this is your routine: meeting, trying to study, chatting and losing track of time. Until the exam gets close, so you try to help Shaun as much as possible and, with little to no surprise, he passes the exam. You are so proud of him, very much so, but now there is the little problem of how to see him again; he doesn't need your help again after all, maybe he never did. So you stay silent, hoping he will reach out to you. Unknowingly to you, Shaun feels the exact same, staring at his phone on the nightstand and hoping to receive a call. But none of you make the first step, both too afraid of rejection. That is when Jackie steps in, barging into Shaun's home with new, like Cupid, she strikes him with "She wants to see you again, I think she might like you". He is on cloud nine, his heart pumps fast and it looks like he might die of happines on the spot.

He calls, asking you to meet him at the same bench he saw you sitting on the first time. When you come, he is all giddy and blushy, he tries to rub off his tension from his hands. His voice is struck in his throat, he is the first to talk "I think...I would like to see you again, if it's fine..." you would like to kiss him, you think, but you're not sure he would like it at all, so instead you mutter "Sure...I would like that too'' with a smile. Your eyes met and without notice, you locked lips in a kiss. It's passionate, it's relieving, it's months of feelings and desires all in one kiss. You let out a breathy laugh, causing him to laugh in the kiss with you also, his arms hug your waist and you his neck, impossibly close to one another. He sighs, his heart is speeding and he feels a happines so strong that it almost seems pain,"Thank you, thank you, thank you...", he holds you close and strokes your cheeks “Thank you!".

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x you #transmascshauna #shauna shipman #the author regrets everything

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thenotsoholyspirit · 3 months

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The devil's in the details

(Matt Murdock x reader)

(💕First of all, I'm sorry I have not had the time yet to publish the 4 chapter for my other fic, my first semester at Uni is surely taking a load, but I still wanted to give an old idea a chance and try to see where I could go with it. It's mostly an introductory chapter hope you like it !) 💕

Summary. Trying to makes end meet as a young woman has never been easy, even less living in the turbulent city that is New York. When (y/n) will have to make an impossible choice, she'll have to decide between the ones she cares the most. It's never safe to fall in love, especially with that mysterious lawyer at the bar she's been working at and the secret she guards underneath.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Another round for the tables two and one, and please don’t forget the missing beers for the group at table five”

It definitely was a busy night at Josie’s.

I had barely entered the bar when multiple orders were already piling up in the kitchen. Friday shifts were always the best to work they told me, and being new around here, I was kind of guilty to be glad Katy asked for a longer maternity leave.

“(Y/n)!”

I turn around, Josie looking at me impatiently.

“I didn't hire you to stand there and look pretty princess” She sighs but gives me a small smile, she could never stay mad at us for too long, “Now, please bring these three beers to the pool table”

I nod excusing myself as I go grab the drinks.

The atmosphere tonight was intoxicating. The talking, the music, even the bursts of laughter and the smell of alcohol that surrounded me were enough to get dizzy on my own. It was almost too overwhelming.

I take a deep breath, as I twitch my lips, trying my best not to bite them as I had promise myself to stop that bad habit.

Normally I had a better handle on my anxiety, but I’m not used to work during the busiest hours. Yet, I need money, and Friday nights are generous on tips. I couldn't let such an opportunity pass, and when Josie asked for our availabilities I was the first to raise her hand.

It’s for her.. all of this is for her

I’m so involved in my own thoughts I don’t notice the man passing in front of me. I suddenly lose my equilibrium, the plate of beers now jumping in the air, as I stumble falling on the floor. I barely have the time to register what’s happening when I feel a quick hand behind my back that stabilizes me again.

“Well… there go our beers”

I hear a voice from the back, a blond guy with slightly longer hair and another blond woman staring at me.

I look down at the floor, now with a puddle of beer and pieces of glass laying there.

Josie is going to kill me

“Are you ok ?”

I look up now to the man in front me. He had dark glasses and his short yet slightly ruffled hair only gave him a more attractive look. I notice the big stain of beer on his chest, which admittingly looked quite well built under the white shirt he was wearing.

C'mon you ain't here to flirt with clients

“Yes I'm sorry your shirt it’s”

I notice now the white stick on his left hand and the realization of his blindness hits me. I feel even worse now. “O.. o shit I’m sorry.. I’m awful I.”

“Don’t worry” he gives me a small smile “It was due to clean anyways. Although.. I heard some glass breaking.. Are you hurt in any way ?”

I shake my head until I realize he can’t exactly see it.

“No I’m ok just..” I sigh, why was I about to tell my problems to a stranger, “I haven’t quite been the best waitress tonight”

He smiles again, this time with a little bit of curiosity in his look.

God if smiles could kill

“Too much of an ambiance ?”

”Is it that obvious that this is my first busy shift ?”

He slightly laughs, until I see Josie appearing with a loud sigh.

“(y/n) could you try not to kill one of our regulars ?”

“Hey Josie the beers are on us all right add it to the Murdock Nelson tab, this stuff always happens”

Josie smiles at the man, it seemed that they’ve been acquaintances for quite some time. She easily accepts as she also gives a nod to the other blond guy.

“I’ll bring the mop”, I shyly tell her as I leave the scene. When I arrive at the kitchen, I hear Josie chuckling at me.

“So Matt caught your attention ?”

I do my best not to turn completely red.

“You know I ain't got time for that Josie”

I sigh. It was true. Too many bills to pay, too many things to do. Where would the time for a boyfriend ever be? Josie’s face becomes then more serious, she also knew all too well about my situation

“How's your mother been ?”

I try to smile, it was never easy to talk about that subject.

“Doctors say she may get a leave from the hospital next week, but you know, i'd rather not be too optimistic on that subject…. I still remember last time”

I take the mop as I sigh. I knew Josie wouldn't have hired me if she didn't know my situation. I was already working at some convenience store during the day, but I was still short of money for the rest of my bills. This without counting the community college classes I was taking half time.

And still not enough money.. it's never enough money

She gives me a warm smile, patting my back as if she wanted to say more but had no words.

“You’re a good girl (y/n), you’ll get through this”

I just nod. There was no time for feelings.

Before leaving the kitchen, I give a last look to the group where Matt and his two friends were happily chatting .

I shake my head, not wanting to be too distracted.

There was no time for stuff like this, I can only move forwards.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

At some corner of the bar, a man was sitting, stirring his cocktail as he gives an attentive look to the place. Nobody notices him when he goes out for a smoke as he makes a call on his phone.

“We found her boss… she’s still here… at some bar in Hell's kitchen”

“Perfect’" the voice on the other side of the line was professional, yet so cold and grave, “Tell Weasley to bring the guys... It's gonna be a long night”

#daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #netflix daredevil #daredevil #marvel x reader

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heartstringsduet · 5 months

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heartstringduet's fall reads. 🍂

(this list by no means is encompassing all the wonderful fics I read and that deserve everyone's thoughtful comments. I will do more lists soon though. You peeps are so amazing 😭.)

Currently WIPs 💕 i closed my eyes inside of your darkness (and found your glow) by falloutmars S: After losing his mom and moving states, TK finds comfort in a stranger who may need the comfort just as much. A story of loss, love, and learning to live again. I love how careful and tender the different ways of coping with grief are portrayed. Plus, Andrea runs a café, Carlos runs a book club and TK finds his way into being a paramedic.

You Keep Coming Back With A Bird In Your Teeth by vaguenotion S: When a gesture of goodwill is misinterpreted, a patient begins to develop a dangerous attachment to TK. The whole point of the job is to save patients, not to have to be saved FROM them. what can I say but that I chew my arm off each time this is updated. Absolutely love the characterizations, the dialogues and the goddamn tension.

your gentle hands are stained with the blood of anothers by @birdclowns S: Denton Miller was Carlos' first case after being promoted to detective. The serial killer has escaped, throwing Carlos and his loved ones into his game as the next unwilling participants. The stakes are impossibly higher and the rules have changed - it's his husband on the other side of the screen. Such a sucker for a kidnapping story and a cat-and-mouse game and Jasper masterfully strikes a line between scary and intimate i language and plot.

see a friend (see a ghost) by @ambiguouspenny S: TK would always come home to him. It was a dinner table promise wrapped in explicit truth; a vow Carlos would bet his life on. A choice made at the edge of tragedy leaves Carlos living in the aftermath. TK tries to make it right. Weeping, letting the vivid details and the mystery and punchy dialogue keep me up at night.

Where All This Love Comes From by @carlos-in-glasses

S: Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son. I recommend anyyything cig writes, because I'm hopelessly devoted to her writing. Anything I read by her is nuanced, poetic, so insightful and heart-wrenching. This only has one chapter but a dialogue that punched me right in the heart.

a long time ago (we used to be friends) by @welcometololaland

S: The exes to lovers, college sweethearts, murder mystery fic where the motto is: be gay, solve crime. I can always count on anything Lola writes to make me laugh and to have me in the throws and woes of my emotions. And this one is one of my favorites of her because I love how she writes them finding their way back into each others life.

Teach You How Forever Feels by @three-drink-amy

S: TK is left with custody of his five-year-old brother, Jonah. With Owen's encouragement, TK moves to Austin for a fresh start, questioning every move he makes as he's thrust into the role of parenthood. But it all leads him to Jonah's new school where he meets Carlos Reyes, the kindergarten teacher. It reads like a warm hug to see TK growing into the role of a parental figure and Carlos be a teacher and read both of them so gone over the other.

Finished Stories 💗 for if i'm going down, i'm taking you with me by @mooshkat and @thebumblecee S: For years now, the rivalry between the Reyes and Strand families has run strong. Since they were young, Carlos and TK have been warned to stay away from the other family and never trust each other, but what happens when a job forces them together? Two contract killers in an enemy-to-lovers scenario? Absolutely loved the journey of this (and the hot smut scenes let's be honest)

The Knave of Hearts . . . brought back the tarts by @liminalmemories21 S: TK exhales and picks up his glass. “The mind boggles. What did Matt want?” “Wanted to ask if I’d heard any rumors about a new art thief nosing around town for targets.” This entire universe of art lover (and former art thief) TK and detective Carlos is so intricate and never forgets to highlight their love even in in well-constructed plot!

to build a home by @freneticfloetry

S: Twenty-five years of chasing hope and happiness and the place where he belongs. Or: Carlos begins, and ends, and begins again, until he gets it right. My heart? Gone. This fic took it and ran with it. Seriously, one of the best character deep-dives I've ever read.

Under A Star Spell by @orchidscript

S: In which Carlos practices folk magic and TK, needing to rekindle something, finds himself on his doorstep. In which two people cross-paths, hope for one thing, and find something else altogether thanks to coffee, vanilla, hyssop, and mint.

The descriptions of Carlos practicing magic is seriously making me weep with jealousy. And the growing love between them in this and the sequel is magic itself.

When I’m Like This by @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

S: TK Strand hasn’t known Carlos Reyes for very long. He’s slept with him, run out on his attempt at getting to know him better, and been processed by him after an arrest. Despite all of that, TK can’t get over Carlos. When TK gets bad news at an NA meeting, he quickly starts to spiral, and there’s only one person he feels safe enough to run to. The absolute tenderness of this and the rawness of emotions just rubs me open in the best way on each re-read.

Love From the Other Side by @lightningboltreader S: It's Exes to Lovers in One Bed! After two years apart, TK & Carlos find themselves face to face at a three-day training event for Texas first responders. Flirting leads to passion, then misunderstanding and ultimately the heart to heart they've each been craving. The exes in a single bed fic we all need in our life! This has so much tension and made me so emotional at the same time.

Sunshine On My Body, Rainbows Bloomin' In My Skies by @lemonlyman-dotcom S: After Carlos’s bold claim about hiking the Great Wall, TK reveals he’d been an avid hiker before moving to Austin. TK & Carlos go for their first hike together, and maybe learn some new things about each other along the way. Such a beautifully written, funny and heartfelt story that feels like you're overgrown with ivy and the feeeels. A Helping Hand by @rmd-writes

S: When TK’s bathroom sink is flooding and he needs help, pronto, he turns to Grindr to find someone close by. But what happens when the best one night stand of his life walks in the door? Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

I can always count on Rae to give me grade-a smut with a heap of unbound joy and this is no exception. 29 going 30 by @alrightbuckaroo

S: During a trip to New York City to celebrate TK turning 30, TK and Carlos stumble upon a list of things TK always wanted to do before he turned 30, all of them being references to romantic comedies he loved so much growing up.

Just a biiiig old love letter to both TK and Carlos, to New York and to turning older and making your old wished come true. The night before Halloween by @ladytessa74 S: Carlos and TK have faced many fears in their lives. But has that prepared them for everything? As they get ready to celebrate Halloween with five year old Elijah, monsters lurk in the shadows. The only way to overcome fear is to face it. Tarlos as parents aren't always for me but Tessa has changed my mind! Plus, a little spooky and wonderuflly plotted halloween story never hurt anybody - or would it? come what may, I'll still stay by @strandnreyes

S: Nearly one year into their marriage and TK finds that life looks a little different these days with Carlos working as a detective. He knows change happens, but when the missed dinners start to pile up and the change begins to feel like too much change, TK struggles with how to remind Carlos that life exists beyond his badge.

One of my all time favorites by Jen which is saying a LOT with how many she has blessed us with.

The Firehouse by @paperstorm S: In 2002, TK and Carlos meet in a third grade classroom in Manhattan. 21 years later they meet again, at a nightclub in Austin called The Firehouse. Split between their friendship in childhood and the path that should set them up as enemies, this is such a beautiful story of kinship and eternal love to me. I just adore how Andie writes TK and Carlos - in love in any and all universes.

#tarlos #tarlos fic rec #tarlos fic rec list #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #michelle stans fics #hope it's okay I shortened some of the longer summaries!!#you are all so wonderful #ahh #and tumblr? your formating SUCKS SO BAD OMG

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basilone · 2 months

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Hiya friend, could I please request #2 "honey" forrrrr....Darlene? <3 — @shoshiwrites

Of course, of course! 💙 Here she is, finally truly at home in her natural habitat, and who else would she meet......

honey

He has heard her whole story before he’s had a chance to meet her.

It’s the sort of thing that rankles him these days. Word traveling so fast on base you’d think it’d taken flight from one end to the other in record time. Opinions being spouted off until they’re fact, facts being retold so often that one needs a flashlight to find anything true by the end of it, and judgment coming hard and fierce between it all.

She’d been subject to enough of that. Don’t need a lady mechanic round these parts, or so the base had buzzed. Don’t need that sort of bad luck. He’d archly reminded some that they’re not on a boat and no woman – alive or dead – should be treated like some ill omen. A harbinger, if Curt’s many sordid nearly Irish tales are to be believed. (They aren’t. Gale knows this. Curt does, too. They’re told anyway.)

As far as stories go, hers contains nothing Gale hasn’t heard before. She’s hardly the only one hailing from Georgia – the many Dorrance-Joneses on base alone provide a veritable invasion from that state – and she’s nothing special with the down-on-my-luck-making-my-own-way patchwork history of odd jobs and family quarrels. Nothing to write home about.

“You all right there, honey?”

Gale blinks. Stares at the riot of red curls perched precariously atop a very, very freckled head. There’s a dark grease stain on her cheek that travels streak-like into her hair, just above her ear, as if she’s tried and failed to wipe it off with her sleeve. She’s a little gap-toothed, if the flash of a quick grin is anything to go by, which might be the first real thing he learns about her without there being a known story attached.

“Ah asked,” she repeats, sing-songing her words back to him, “you all right there, Major?”

“Just fine, Sergeant.” He nods at her. “How is she?”

“She’s a beauty.” There it is again, that little flash of a gap between her front teeth as she smiles. “Should be up and purrin’ in your ears again by tomorrow, sir. Wasn’t a whole lot wrong with her, but ah liked workin’ on her. Sorry to say them feathers took a beatin’, though.”

He eyes the wing she indicates with a wave of her hand. “Walk me through?”

“Sure thing, honey.” Teeth worrying at her lower lip. A look in her eye that’s almost contrite. “Sorry. Major. Right this way, sir.”

Gale stuffs his hands in his pockets as he follows in her footsteps. Observes her repairs done to the wing with the same critical eye he would Lemmons’s repairs – cursory in some places, nuts-and-bolts details in other places – and isn’t surprised to find she knows precisely what she’s doing. She’s worked on fighter planes. Bombers. Jeeps, even, if John’s to be believed. Her work’s not a mystery. Nothing to pluck an ill omen out of thin air over, either.

“Question,” he says, then, and it’s only practice that keeps a smile off his face, “how does one get honey from Major?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “You ask nicely. Sir.”

“And you don’t apologize about that from now on, either,” he hums, nodding at the wing more than at her. “Understood?”

Her low, warm chuckle is answer enough. “Ain’t even shown you her new iron belly yet, sir. Would reserve judgment on me until then.”

No, Gale almost says, observing the stubborn set of her shoulders and the flicker of determination in her dark eyes, I think I have the measure of you just right, Mayfair. “As long as she flies, Sergeant,” he says instead, “I will be the last to judge.”

#masters of the air #gale cleven #oc: darlene #mota oc #basilonefic #I'm really liking the little smiles here

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dreamspelunker · 1 year

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A Case for Disney’s “Strange World”

No one seems to know anything about this movie. I didn’t before I saw it yesterday. I went to the movies on a whim and chose this one because the pickings were a bit slim and this one looked like the best out of the bunch.

Guys. This movie is good.

Disney has done this film real dirty by not marketing it properly. I mean, it probably won’t ever take over the world by storm like Encanto did, but it deserves better than what it’s getting. As I said on my Twitter, it is 100% a stunningly beautiful solarpunk film and everyone needs to go see it.

Here’s a brief synopsis since the trailer was garbage and no one saw it anyway:

***The Spoiler-Free Zone***

The story mostly focuses on Searcher, the son of famous explorer Jaeger Clade whose mission in life is to find a passage over the impassable mountains that surrounds their community of Avalonia. While on an expedition to try and scale the peaks, Searcher finds Pando, a mysterious plant that generates a renewable source of electricity. Searcher, tired of exploring and wanting to quit the life, takes the Pando back to Avalonia. Jaeger, still determined to find a way through the mountains, keeps going alone, never to return.

25 years later, Pando has transformed Avalonia into a bustling sci-fi uptopia. Searcher is renowned for having discovered Pando, and now lives a quiet life growing Pando crops with his wife and teenage son. One day, however, the Pando starts dying. In search of a cure, one of Jaeger’s former crew comes to Searcher asking for his help to lead an expedition down underground to figure out what’s killing it and save the society they’ve built with it.

If that sounds like a movie you’d like to see, stop reading now and go see it. Because from here, I’ll be busting out spoilers to talk about themes and why this movie is solarpunk. So I’ll be writing as if you, dear reader, have seen the film.

***The Spoiler Zone***

First of all, this movie is goddamn gorgeous. I really liked the opening comic-panel sequence and all, but I fell in love with the visuals once the story opened up and began showing us Searcher’s farm and Avalonia. Aesthetically, this is about as solarpunk as you can get. Art nouveau-inspired stained glass windows, visible mending on clothes, and really cool-looking tech that’s not at all in conflict with its environment.

That’s not even touching on the world inside Avalonia. I loved the shades of pinks and purples. And the creature design! Absolute chef’s kiss. That whole part of the movie reminded me of this one book I’ve read called ‘Expedition’ by Wayne Douglas Barlowe, which is just about exploring the ecosystem of alien life-forms on a planet called Darwin IV. It’s mostly a collection of really detailed sci-fi paintings of alien creatures. Fantastic stuff. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if someone at the Disney studio had a copy and passed it around for inspiration during production.

In terms of the characters, i thought everyone was engaging and all the voice actors gave really good performances. I really liked Jaeger in particular (yes, he comes back, of course), but all three of the main characters were really well developed.

But, of course, there is The Gay Character. We all know about HIM.

I kid, I kid, I capitalize with irony. They did a good job with him, actually.

I’ve seen a lot of people on Twitter respond to the idea of Ethan Clade with a very cynical shrug without having seen the movie. I have to say, I think people would be genuinely pleased with his portrayal if they gave the movie a chance. There’s no goofy wink-wink LeFou-ing about here. He’s a main character throughout the movie, his love interest is presented upfront with sincerity, and everyone within the world accepts it as normal. He’s not fighting anyone to be gay or trying to hide it, nor is it his one defining trait. He just has a crush on a dude and his dad embarrasses him a bit in front of him. Normal teenage stuff. His character arc is about sorting out his identify in relation to his family, especially his dad. Being gay literally has nothing to do with his character any more than his mom and dad being straight. Which is how it should be.

The story is a fun ride. It’s really well-paced. I was never bored, personally. There are some really great action scenes, some cute comedy with a three-legged dog and a goo creature called Splat, and the emotional beats all made sense with the characters and moved the story forward. It has a lot of qualities that reminded me of Up! and some parts of The Incredibles without directly being a rip-off of either of those. It’s its own thing, and I look forward to being able to watch it again on DVD/streaming.

***I know some of you kept reading anyway so for real, this is where I’m about to get into True Spoilers so save yourselves now y’allllllll***

Ultimately, this is a movie about legacy. Specifically, the legacy we want to leave our children (i.e. those who will come after us). I love the way this movie manages to take the existential crisis we face now in our blessed, beautiful world and condense it into a story where that issue of legacy, of our priorities, and of who we want to be is made clear.

Jaeger Clade is the society that brought us to where we are now. He’s a loud, brash, bush-whacking old man who’s driven to overcome obstacles. Searcher Clade is us now. Not looking to conquer for conquering’s sake, but complacent and only interested in continuing the status quo. He’s proud of what he’s made and sees no reason to change. Ethan Clade is who we should want to be. Someone looking for a third option, who wants to co-exist with the world around them, and be curious without being destructive.

These three outlooks correlate directly to the reveal that Avalonia is actually a living creature, and Pando is a disease that is literally wrapped around the living, beating heart of their world and slowly killing it. It was Jaeger’s drive to explore that led to the discovery of Pando. Searcher was unintentionally making the problem worse by growing more and more Pando to fuel their society. And throughout the movie, everyone is working together to save Pando, and it’s Ethan alone who tries to get them to stop and think more about what they’re looking at, and that things might not be as simple and straight-forward as they appear.

And this is why I think this movie is solarpunk, and not just aesthetically. Obviously, there are direct parallels to our use of fossil fuels, but I think it’s important that in the universe of Strange World, Pando is not an obvious poison or something they have to destructively mine to get. It’s a plant. Something that appears so innocuous at first, but under the surface, grows into a huge, overwhelming problem. No one is an evil bad guy looking to make profit off Pando or keep on destroying the world because it makes them money to do so. Everyone in the movie does what they do because they think they’re doing the right thing. What is the right and wrong answer isn’t always clear, and rather than being a result of them being outright evil, it’s just because they don’t fully understand the consequences.

While I was in the theater watching this, I thought about the Himalayan blackberries that have taken over the Pacific Northwest. It was introduced in the late 1800s by a botanist named Luther Burbank. He prized it for how much produce one blackberry bush could make in a single season, as opposed to the native blackberries that made smaller berries in smaller quantities. His intent was genuinely for the good. He wanted to propagate a crop that could accessibly feed the growing urban areas of the PNW. Create a food forest, in a sense. He sold the seeds because it was easy to grow and would feed people.

Obviously, it’s not bad to want to feed people. But now the damn plant has invested everything, and while the berries are still very much edible (and people do still eat them), it’s also created impenetrable thickets that kill everything around them and interfere with the ability of wildlife to get around. It got out of control. Even though the intent was meant well, the outcome created a problem that is now essentially impossible to overcome. People try anyway, because we have to, but the odds are not in our favor.

Solarpunk isn’t about growing more plants or having more trees in our cities or building solar panels and wind farms everywhere. Well, it’s not JUST that. Of course those things are good things, but every solution offered needs the proper context to work. And that’s the real nature of the movement, right? It’s finding solutions that lead to the best outcomes for everyone. Being invested in our world, learning about it, falling in love with it, discovering the intricacies of how everything is interconnected and how we fit into that. Everything we do will have inevitable impacts on everything around us, but what those impacts are can change radically depending on how carefully we consider our actions. We know we have to change. The question is, how do we change? How do we change for everyone?

And that is the ending message of the film. The heroes choose to save Avalonia. They destroy the Pando, knowing that it means they can’t have their society the way it was anymore. They choose that, because it is right to do. And the movie ends with the resilience of humanity as they come together and try to find a different solution to build their society on, the third solution of people like Ethan Clade who bring together the bravery and curiosity of Jaeger with the steadfastness and dedication of Searcher, and create a world that’s built on understanding and co-existence. In a world that constantly feels like it could teeter over at any minute, that’s a beautiful message to see in a goddamn Disney film.

P.S. I just want to say before I go that I really really really want Ethan’s boyfriend’s sweater. When you see it, you’ll understand, but I NEED the sweater in my life more than air.

#strange world #solarpunk #movie review #novel-length post #disney #this film was done dirty #please go see it #you'll have fun i promise

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dc418writes · 6 months

Text

•|Legends Never Die|•

✨Pairing✨: dark!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Curiosity doesn’t kill cats. It kills the nosey

⚠️: 18+ NO MINORS, chasing, mention of blood, abduction, minor bondage, allusions to basement wife, language, noncon touching

A/N🎤: Hey guys! So this is my little twist on the infamous Headless Horseman tale and I hope you guys like it☺️💕!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was made by me, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

Everyone you interviewed in the small town warned you about going down that dirt road. How those who dared pass through that wooden tunnel were never to be seen again.

But you didn’t listen. Instead letting your need for the truth overshadow your caution.

Once you heard about the mysterious figure looming in the woods and read all the accounts from those young and old, your piqued interest wouldn’t rest. You needed to see for yourself if this horseman really existed or if it was just a boogeyman of sorts with stories being passed down from generation to generation.

Dead grass and autumn leaves crunch under your sneakers as you journey further into the wooded area. The cool air prickling your nose and cheeks while buzzards squawk overhead circling with their wings spread wide.

That should’ve been your sign to turn back, but your legs carry you until you’re meeting a withered cabin. Smoke rising from its chimney into the gloomy sky.

“H-Hello!?,” you call out, but there’s nothing. Whoever lived here clearly wanted to be alone being the only cabin out in this stretch of woods that you could see.

“I don’t mean any harm! Just wanted to ask some questions,” you ask as you reach the front door.

You knock twice, but again you don’t hear anything. Can just see a peek of the lone, vintage couch and coffee table resting on top of the decorative rug in the living room through the crack in the curtains shielding the windows.

The floorboards creak under each step you take - no matter how careful - wandering along the wrap around porch while your eyes focus on the woods with every crack of a twig and swish of leaves.

Meaning you weren’t paying attention when you tripped over the metal bucket; knocking it over as you stumbled forward.

A reddish-brown tinted rag rolling out along with a small amount of water tinted the same color pooling around your feet is the final straw feeling your stomach begin to sink and anxiety slowly rise.

Something deep inside tells you to hide when you hear the whinny of a horse along with its trotting hooves approaching from somewhere in the forest. It’s the fastest you’ve moved since your high school gym days setting your eyes on a decent sized shed a few feet away.

Luckily it’s latch is open allowing you to quickly slip inside just as whoever approaches the property. Crouched by the small, smudged window, you can see the black stallion being led by a person in all black themselves from their thick coat to their leather gloves and down to the boots on their feet.

A pumpkin mask with detailed carving covering their face.

It looks like it was made from the gourd itself. But most surprising - and fear inducing - a hatchet on their hip. Its blade stained with someone or something’s crimson blood that steadily drips to the ground.

“What’d I get myself into?,” you think watching as the tall figure rounds the house before stopping upon noticing the knocked over bucket and rag. Clearly now on alert that somebody was there how his head turns left and right.

Your heart rate increases as he appears to be coming towards the shed. (More than likely to put away his horse as you now notice the bags of feed by your feet.)

It’ll be impossible to run out the same way you came, so you hurry towards the back crouching behind a barrel near the corner. Your knees pressed into your chest to make yourself as small as possible just as the double doors open and both step inside.

Hands covering your mouth, you can hear them tying their horse away before filling its container with food and beginning to brush along its mane and the short hairs on its body.

A skid of a breeze across your face nearly startles you - thinking whoever arrived found you - until you see the plastic flap of the doggy door gently moving back and forth. It seems big enough that you could fit through, but you won’t know for sure unless you try.

So you patiently wait until you hear the double doors open again and the thud of boots becoming quieter with each step, signaling that you were finally alone and able to move again.

Carefully your arm goes through first then your head, but your opposite shoulder only bumps into the wall unable to pass. Shifting your body, you try again hoping someway you can make it through but your efforts are futile.

Just giving you enough of a distraction that you don’t feel the presence of someone behind you until it’s too late. Roughly grabbing your ankles and yanking you back as you scream.

You thrash kicking and swinging trying to get away, successfully hitting his crotch deep enough to have him groaning as he keels over on his hands and knees.

“Bitch,” he grits out as you scramble to get your footing to run out the shed. The horse whinnying and stirring about due to the new commotion.

Bursting out the doors, you keep running without any direction just setting your sights forward while trying to dodge limbs and trees along your path.

At the galloping not too far behind you, your heartbeat increases hoping there’s another house somewhere in these woods you can ask for help.

As your chest heaves and throat gradually becomes dryer from the air constantly rushing through, it seems you two are the only ones out this far leaving only one end in sight for you.

The stallion’s galloping grows closer and louder - as if it’d never get tired - while you feel exhaustion overtaking the adrenaline that once controlled your body.

You make the grave mistake of peeking over your shoulder trying to gauge just how close your hunter is not realizing your path was soon ending. Flying forward, your body tumbles down a dirt hill until you’re roughly thudding to a stop.

However, rather than hitting the cold ground you’re horrified to find a decaying body with its eyes wide and staring right at you. Some flies buzzing from them to you as if thinking you could be their next snack.

A deafening scream rips through your chest as you try to scurry away, echoing off the surrounding trees until something hitting against your head makes everything go dark.

Opening your eyes, you first notice the dark, wooden beams of the unfamiliar ceiling. Definitely older from their weathered appearance as one seemed to be a good hit away from breaking in two.

You try to move, but your arms and legs are bound to the semi-firm mattress below you with expertly knotted ropes you know you’d never get out of. It left you spread wide and fearful to what your captors next plan would be.

“You’ve done a lot of research.” The deep voice startles you, instinctively making you turn towards the corner to find the person chasing you earlier. They’re still in all black with the orange mask attached to their face as they look through your notebook of interviews and printed articles.

Had they been there watching you the whole time you were out?

“Have to say, I’m flattered,” they lowly chuckle closing the book and haphazardly tossing it on the ground. You see just how tall this person is when they stand and their head is only inches away from the beams above. It fills your stomach with nausea and dread how they slowly approach the bed reaching their finger out to teasingly trace from the post by your foot to your ankle.

“I-I’m sorry,” you cry with fresh tears dripping out the corner of your eye and down to the mattress below. A line of black left in its path from your mascara and liner.

Carefully removing their mask, the face underneath is surprisingly handsome. Near crystalline like blue eyes shielded by long lashes and a sharp jaw covered by an almond colored beard, you could honestly find yourself falling for the man in front of you if you met under normal circumstances.

His fingertips slowly trace higher - from your ankle to your calf and finally the inside of your knee - making your squirm and tears fall heavier while you plead, “Don’t.”

“Looks like you found your horseman kitten,” he smirks. “Too bad you’re little story won’t ever get published. Especially not with you tied up down here until I’m done.”

#curtis everett #curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett x black!reader #curtis everett au #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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