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#you gotta be a great cool y’know
laundrybiscuits · 1 year
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The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”
Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”
The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner. 
“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”
“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”
Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?
He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?” 
“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”
“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt. 
He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”
“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip. 
“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”
Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”
“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”
“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”
“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”
“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.” 
“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel. 
There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—
“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”
“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know. 
He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.
(ETA: small continuation here!)
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pearlcigs · 4 months
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⋆ french girl
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“have you ever seen titanic?” you asked, toying with the hem of ellie’s shirt. “yeah, why?” ellie’s eyes were closed, hand under her head, serving as a makeshift pillow even though she was laying on two already. “y’know that one scene? where jack draws rose.” you voice, inching your body closer to her. “the one where rose gets naked and asks jack to draw her like one of his french girls? yeah i’m familiar.” ellie chuckles, unsure of where you could be going with this. “watched that scene more times than i care to admit.” she continued, eyes opening to look down at you, your head laying on her chest. “draw me like one of your french girls, ellie.”
the off white colored sheets were now wrinkled under your nude body. the flesh of your skin plush against the cool fabric that was quickly warming up due to your body heat. nerves coursed through each one of your blood vessels, taking deep breaths and rubbing your thighs together. you hadn’t expected your fantasy to get this far. posed like a doll, afraid to move and ruin the whole image, though ellie wasn't too concerned. she had your body in this position memorized, each perfect imperfection on your body engraved in her mind. she didn't think she could forget, even if she tried.
the sharp sound of her pencil scratching the paper put you somewhat at ease. the melodic sound making you eager to see what your girlfriend's artistic abilities would bring this time. your chest heaving with each breath, though it felt like you couldn't get enough air. "you're doin' great, babe." ellie praised, tongue poking out her mouth just slightly as a form of concentration. her pencil drew every one of your curves. verbatim on the paper to what she was looking at with her own eyes.
“why don’t you spread your legs a lil’?” she asked, it was innocent, truthfully. she wanted to make sure this drawing was perfect, from each stroke down to the pose. your face heated up, bottom lip slotting between your teeth at her vulgar yet seemingly sweet request. “els,” you giggle, gently trying to inform her of what her words meant to you. ellie looked up at you upon hearing the serenade of your voice calling for her. “hm?” the scratching of the pencil slowing to a stop.
just looking at you and how flustered you suddenly looked, she realized just what she said. a light pink pigment blushing over her freckled cheeks. “i mean, ‘course only if you want to.” she tries to correct her mistake, though she’s not entirely sure if it was a mistake to correct— or even a mistake at all. “like this?” you mumble with bated breath, spreading your plush thighs apart just enough to let ellie see the start of your glistening cunt. she stares intently for a minute, trying to hold herself back from dropping her art supplies and crawling onto the bed to pleasure you the way you deserve.
“you look even prettier than rose.” she comments, offhandedly, as she returns her attention to the almost finished sketch. “can i see, els?” your voice is sweet, but full of eagerness. “you gotta wait till it’s done, babe. be patient.” she smiles with a cocky grin, liking the fact that even for just right now she’s the only one who’s ever seen this drawing. it prided her in more ways that one for reasons she couldn’t explain. “but ‘m not patient.” you complained, voice a borderline whine. “oh, trust me. i am well aware of that.” she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i’m almost done, alright? just hang on, baby.”
the few minutes it took her to finish the drawing of you that you were excited to see felt like hours. your body felt stiff, like you were turning into a statue to be a piece of art forever. ellie smudges a few of the harsh lines with her finger before putting her pencil down for the final time. she savors the feeling. of what? she’s not sure. “ready?” she asks, looking up at you and you’re already sitting up, enabling her to see more of your perfect body. she walks over to the bed, sitting next to you and somehow fighting back every erotic thought she had about you flipping the paper to finally show you.
you take in every sharp line that the pencil, that ellie claims is her lucky pencil, made. you looked at it so intensely that ellie thought maybe you didn’t like it, until you smiled. “you’re so talented, ellie.” you complimented, heart fluttering with adoration. ellie took the praise with a grain of salt, blush painting her bashful face. “couldn’t’ve made something this beautiful without the perfect muse.” she deflects, goofy grin on her face. ogling shamelessly at you body. she places the finished art piece on your night stand, hands caressing you body with a soft kiss to your lips. “come ‘ere, ‘french girl’.”
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turtleblogatlast · 2 months
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[ cw: scars / permanent injuries / chronic pain / ]
Leo’s shell gets some permanent cracks in it due to the Krang, and as a result his shell’s pattern is all messed up.
He makes a fuss about it in a lightheartedly vain way, but it’s clear that it bothers him, more than just the chronic pain that comes with it.
The one who breaks about the cracks isn’t Leo in the end, it’s Mikey.
It’s a night where Leo can’t sleep, insomnia and the remnants of a fit pulsing through his shell keeping him awake. When making the rounds to check up on everything, he sees Mikey, crouched over some old crayon drawings, drawings that were only salvaged by some miracle.
Mikey always loved matching with his “cool blue bro” growing up. Their shell designs were something they had in common, different from the spines/spikes that their other brothers had. It felt good to share that with Leo.
To Mikey, seeing that pattern tarnished felt a little too much like their home getting destroyed. Worse, even. The two of them are complementary colors, it hits harder when things disrupt that.
And Mikey admits this to Leo, on this day where emotion kept mounting up in him until he couldn’t help but break a little. It feels selfish to say, but it’s the truth. It’s a visual that’ll constantly haunt Mikey, knowing what the cracks represent, knowing how they lost something that was just theirs to share.
Drawing Mikey to him, a hand on Mikey’s intact shell pattern, Leo admits that that’s what kills him the most too. He can deal with the pain, he can deal with the appearance, but he can’t deal with no longer seeing himself in the crayon drawings they managed to salvage from their past. Drawings that highlight their shell patterns, because Mikey always had a lot of fun drawing those.
He always loved what they decided they represented.
———
“Like links of a chain!” Little Mikey had called them as he scribbled them down in oranges and blues.
“Of course it’s like chains!” Little Leo nodded, having never noticed that before, “It, like, shows how we’re- how we’re always connected!”
Little Mikey had gasped at that, stars in his eyes as he babbled endlessly about how that meant they’re the chains holding the family together, right?
“Raphie and Donnie don’t have chains on their shells, so we gotta step up to keep everyone together!” Little Mikey said as he drew big circles around his drawings of their family, overlapping circles of orange and blue around everyone.
“Yeah! And if anyone gets lost, we’ll bring them back!” Little Leo boasted with a laugh, “No one has to be alone, we’ll make sure of it!”
“We’ll make sure of it!” Little Mikey echoed with a happy giggle.
———
‘You sure made sure of it, Mikey.’ Leo thinks, continuing to run his hand comfortingly down Mikey’s shell.
Then a thought hits him.
“Well, we got something better than just shell patterns in common now!” Leo starts, waiting until Mikey looks up to continue, “We got portals, little brother!” He grins, “And y’know, I think you’ve done a great job keeping us all together, Miguel. Sorry you had to pick up my slack.”
Mikey looks two steps away from sobbing at that, but his smile is wide, “You just got lost, of course I had to bring you back.” He leans back, out of Leo’s hold, and looks his big brother in the eyes, “That’s what we said- Raphie and Donnie don’t have portals…”
“-So we gotta step up-“ Leo continues.
“-To keep everyone together!” The finish simultaneously, laughing a little at the juvenile words.
A wry smile crosses Leo’s face, “Again, sorry I’ve been dropping the ball there. Feels like I did a lot of the opposite instead.”
He yelps as Mikey swiftly smacks him on the head.
“Nuh uh uh, none of that!” Mikey puffs out his chest, “I’ll have no slander toward my fellow portal pal!”
“Alright, alright…”
It’s not a fix to anything, more of a new way of looking at a change. Bringing that change into their lives as something familiar.
The cracks in Leo’s shell remain, and the cracks in Mikey’s hands scar over, but their family stays together all the same.
They gotta make sure of it, after all!
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Worth
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John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader
Summary: You're swept off your feet by one Major John C. Egan, and you love every second of it. Sequel to Birdie.
Word Count: 3.0k
Tags: female!reader, mechanic!reader, women™, period typical sexism & misogyny, fun date night, dude w/ a small dick gets rightfully called out, mostly just fun date stuff, tons of fluff
A/N: Hello all! Thank you so much for the kind words on Birdie. I really appreciate everyone's comments, they warm my heart right up. I almost didn't write this, but the thought of having these two smooch it up was too good to pass up. I also completely headcanon that Bucky has the biggest sweet tooth, oops. As always, I'd be most gracious if you were to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog :)
Read the OC Version of this story on AO3!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, please don't copy, repost, or translate my writing without explicit prior permission. Don't even think about it, AI!
A knock at the door brings butterflies to your stomach.
“Oh, he’s here!” Irene shouts, which is immediately met with your shushing, as well as Teresa’s.
You nervously pat your hair and check over your outfit for the evening. You’re spending your second day’s leave on a date with Bucky Egan. He had approached you last night at the pub, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Alone. 
You, of course, said yes.
Teresa and Irene go to answer the door while you gather your purse, stuffing it with your essentials. Your friends greet him at the same time, sounding like twins.
“Good evening, Major!”
“Good evening, Major!”
You hear his deep voice reply, only a small bit of surprise leaking into his voice.
“Good evening, ladies. Is Birdie around? We have dinner plans.”
“I’m here! Hi.” You step around the wall that hides you from the front door, taking a look at the man you’d been crushing on for months. He stands tall and confident in his neatly pressed uniform, hat covering most of his dark curls. His mouth gapes, giving you a once over and attempting to speak up.
“I- You-…Uh, wow. Y-you look…” But any sweet words he attempts to say are interrupted by Irene, who comes in hot with a manic smile.
“Did you know that my daddy taught me how to shoot when I was just a little girl? I’m real good at it. They call me Oakley, back home, cause of how great a marksman I am. Y’know, like Annie Oakley?” She stepped forward, puffing up her chest and giving a frightening grin to Major Egan. You and Teresa exchanged confused looks, not knowing quite where she was going with this.
“I’m not allowed a sidearm or a rifle over here, but I’m sure I could easily borrow one from any of the fellas on base should you break my best friend’s hea—”
“OKAY! We don’t wanna be late, all the tables might be taken soon. Gotta go. Love you. Bye!” You quickly shove past the blonde, stepping over the threshold. You take Bucky’s hand and practically drag his tall form down the hallway, away from your best friend’s attempt at a shovel talk.
You faintly hear Teresa’s well wishes to you amid the aggressively whispered conversation she has with Irene. The last words you hear before the elevator door closes in front of you are a heavily accented protest from Irene.
“What? I was just trying to..!”
The pair of you stand in the elevator in silence. A slight rocking indicates the starting motion of it, which snaps you back to reality. Looking down, you realize that you’re still holding hands with Bucky. You quickly separate your hand from his, heat rising to your cheeks.
“Your friends seem nice.”
Your head snaps to glance at Bucky, who is already looking at you. A sincere smile graces his face, not a hint of mocking in his eyes. 
“I’m glad you have them looking out for you.” 
You feel your face start to cool down, making you comfortable enough to respond. 
“They drive me nuts sometimes. But they’re the best friends I could ever ask for.” You mean every word. 
You see John nod, so you turn back to look to the elevator doors in front of you. An awkward pause.
“You look beautiful.”
Another pause. “What?”
“It’s what I meant to say earlier. That you look beautiful. Because you do.”
Heat quickly returns to your cheeks, spreading throughout your whole upper body. You give a bashful smile, peeking up at him through your lashes. You gaze into his eyes for a moment.
“Thank you, Johnny. You look quite handsome yourself.” The Major adjusts his hat, covering just the tips of his ears. He returns your gaze with an uncharacteristically nervous grin. The floor gives a slight rattle, elevator door and gate opening to reveal the lobby.
John straightens up, holding out his arm for you to take. You tentatively weave your hand within the crook of his elbow. He gently presses his arm in, bringing your body closer to his. 
You meet your other hand in its position and let Bucky lead you out of the hotel and into the evening air.
“That was so delicious! I never knew that a roast could be so tender…”
The pair of you were walking arm-in-arm down a cobblestone street, just having finished dinner. It was a wonderful time. Bucky had been the perfect gentleman, but made his interest in you clear without being sleezy.
He was entirely focused on you the whole time. He asked questions and was genuinely invested in your answers. Conversation came to the two of you like a duck to water. After a shared glass of wine, his hand had slowly inched towards yours. Soon he had cradled it in his, like you were a precious commodity, until your meals arrived. You could hardly keep your eyes off of each other long enough to even promptly acknowledge the wait staff, which you were sure annoyed some and amused others.
Safe to say, John Egan was doing his best to sweep you off your feet.
You hadn’t discussed any other plans for after dinner, but the walk you’re on now is nice enough to give you reason to stick close together.
Bucky nods along, “And that fruit tart? Incredible.”
You laugh, leaning into your date, “I knew that would be your favorite part. You’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth, don’t you?” 
Bucky holds his hands up with a mischievous smirk on his face, “Hey, I plead the fifth.” 
“I’ll admit, I’ve never seen someone so adamant on having some coffee with his sugar.” You continue to tease him. He nudges you playfully, giving a smooth grin in return.
“Hey, we’re in a war! If you see something sweet,” Bucky surprises you by picking you up and twirling you around, getting a full belly laugh from you as he sets you back on the ground.
“You gotta snatch it up and enjoy it while you can.”
You have a feeling that he wasn’t just talking about food. 
By that point, you’re leaning against his front, hands on both of his shoulders. The moment has shifted into something else. Something different. His eyes roam your face, eventually stopping on your lips. Just as he starts to lean in, the moment is shattered by the sound of instruments starting up nearby. Bucky flinches, cursing the ill-timed disruption. 
Oblivious to his turmoil, you gasp in delight and look around for the source of the music.
“Do you hear that? I think there’s a band playing!” 
You spot a few people walk into what looks like a club. It barely a stone’s throw from where you’re both currently standing. 
Bucky quickly recovers, “Should we grab a drink? Have a dance or two?”
You beam at him, and his heart stutters in his chest once more. After you give a nod, you place your hand in his arm and let him lead you into the club.
The two of you step into the establishment, and the energy is almost electric. There are mills of people walking about, drinking, talking, laughing. There’s a great score more on the dance floor, hopping and jiving along to the band you now knew you’d heard earlier. There weren’t a lot of uniforms present, but the ones that were were RAF.
Bucky guides you to the bar, hand on your back until you're both sat on a pair of stools. Your drinks are quickly ordered and served, so your night continues. You both allow yourselves to talk shop for a moment, so your conversation turns towards what you were working on before your leave. As you get to discussing the more intricate parts of your project, you hear a scoff from behind you.
John quickly looks over your shoulder, spotting the culprit.
“Excuse me, is there a problem here?”
You turn around to find a uniformed man taking a sip of his whiskey, RAF logo plastered on the lapel. He mockingly shakes his head, placing the glass down on the bar.
“No, no problem at all.”
Bucky, ever the confrontationist, persists. “It seems like there’s a problem here.”
You gesture towards the man, silently indicating that he was welcome to speak his mind. 
“It’s not enough that you Yanks come over to our country, destroy our pubs and disrespect our women with your recklessness. But you can’t even keep your own women in check! She should be at home, away from the war, for God’s sake. Taking care of the house and the children. You know, doing feminine duties.”
You had heard all of this before, so it was no skin off your back to hear it again. You roll your eyes and decided to just ignore him. Then the man started to laugh, as if he was in on a private joke.
“I mean, a female mechanic? Between that and your daytime missions, it’s no wonder you’re all dropping like flies.”
You let out an exhale, letting the air stream out through your nose. In your periphery, you see Bucky start to stand— to, no doubt, escalate the situation. You stop him with a hand on his chest. He sits back down, looking between you and the man who had just insulted you. You set your glass down, hopping off the stool and giving a slow clap. 
“I’m so glad to know that some people still live in the Stone Age, where apparently all a woman is good for is cooking and giving birth! Thank you so much for showing us exactly what a lack of education and individual thought looks like! See where we are—over in modern times— women can do whatever the hell they want. That includes fixing your planes and jeeps, operating your radios, driving your trucks, and even training your allies to use machine artillery!”
The RAF soldier realizes what he’s gotten himself into but is backed into a corner of the bar as you pace forward with each scathing word that leaves your mouth.
“Never mind all the bullshit you just spouted about what a woman is fit to do. I think that women can decide for ourselves exactly what we can and cannot do. As for my countrymen, I’m proud to serve alongside them. They go up every day willing to sacrifice themselves so that the rest of us don’t have to. They’re gonna be remembered for their bravery and grit. They’re not cowardly enough to hem and haw and stick up their noses at the thought of a woman doing something other than popping out a kid and ironing their pleats.”
The music has dulled down, but you don’t have the complete attention of the club. That gives you the courage to say your final piece.
“Never you mind. I'm confident that the men I serve with, including the man I have with me tonight, aren’t anything like you. Thank God for that! They're not so…” You take an exaggerated glance towards the man’s crotch, scrunching up your nose. “…small-minded.”
Leaving the gaping man behind, you turn to Bucky and ask if he wants to go get some air. He picks his jaw up off the floor quick enough to nod and lead you back outside into the street.
Hey, hanging around Irene pays off sometimes.
As you step out into the night air, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You feel John step up behind you, voice carefully asking,
“Hey, are you okay? Birdie?”
You continue to stand with your eyes closed. You just needed a moment.
“I’ve come too far to let anyone’s opinion of me, or my career choices, effect me.”
You open your eyes and look over your shoulder at your date. He gives an understanding nod, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. You lean back into him, closing your eyes once more, letting him comfort you for the time being.
“Sorry if I ruined the night.”
You can feel a rumble from Bucky’s chest as he chuckles. “Oh, this night’s far from ruined. In fact, that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
One of your eyes pops open. You crane your neck to peek at him, “Even better than the time you told me about Curt knocking out an RAF officer in one punch?”
“Yep.”
“Winning that bet to get your bicycle?”
“Oh, for sure.”
“Better than your fruit tart from dinner?”
His smile widens, “Okay, let’s not get crazy here. Maybe it was top ten.”
“Top ten?!” You playfully gasp, turning around to face him again. You rest your hands on your hips, “What’s a girl gotta do to rank above a fruit tart around here?”
“Well…” You scoff and shove Bucky at the cheeky smirk he gives you. You’re quickly distracted by the sound of the band inside starting up again. This time with a familiar tune.
“Oh, your song’s on, Johnny!”
Bucky tosses his hat to the side, steps back and gives a very unserious bow. He then sneers with a hyper-nasal impression of the RAF officer you’d just affronted.
“My lady.”
You roll your eyes and give a joking curtsy in return, taking his offered hand. He pulls you into a proper stance for a waltz, which is a complete offset to the jive song that reaches your ears. You both jokingly hop along in the awkward squared formation for a moment, giggling to yourselves. 
He gently pushes on your hip while outstretching his hand, so you take the cue and twirl until you’re both standing at each other’s fingertips. A quick grasp of your hand and a pull twirls you right back into his arms, bumping into his chest. The moment made you burst into laughter, leaning into your dance partner until the song ends. 
The next song is a much slower tune, giving Bucky the chance to pull you in close. You hum along to the band playing, sidling up to the Major’s chest. He places a hand in yours and loops the other around your waist. Your free arm gently drapes under his and over his shoulder, encouraging a lean into his firm body. You both give a slow sway, leading each other back and forth in the quiet echoes of the street. Closer than before.
“You know, I’ve been plucking up the courage to ask you to dinner for a while now.” 
You lay your head on the knuckles of your hand that rest on his shoulder, responding lowly. 
“Really?”
You continue to sway.
“Yeah.”
You’re curious, so you ask, “What made you finally do it?”
He thinks on the answer for a moment, almost chewing on his thoughts. John is not the kind of person to typically contemplate over an answer, so you gift him all the time in the world to respond. You recognize how important that is to him.
“I… I think that it was a lot of little things.” He pulls you in closer. “Your smile, your eyes, the way you talk about the things you love. Birdie, you are so personable with everyone you come into contact with and it’s so magnetic.” 
The flow of compliments shocks you, not expecting this barrage of details to come from the man in front of you. But you dance on anyways.
“But I really think what did me in was yesterday, at the pub. When you looked at me during your song.”
You remember. You know exactly what he was talking about. Whatever he must have felt, you know that you felt it too.
He continues to speak in an intimate tone as you sway along in the street.
“I felt my entire life click into place. It was like everything suddenly made sense. I didn’t have to wonder about what my life was going to be like in five, ten, fifteen years. Because I knew.”
He pulls back to look you in the eye, and the amount of vulnerability in his eyes floors you. 
“I’ll be honest, it scared the shit outta me. It terrified me.”
You understand what he meant. This is all new to him, as it is to you. You pull his forehead to touch yours, noses gently brushing one another, as you offer your best words of comfort in that moment.
“Sometimes, you have to do what scares you the most to find out what’s worth doing.” 
He cups your face, letting his lips ghost against yours. He made his intentions clear, but it was up to you to decide how you move forward.
So, you close your eyes and take the leap.
Your lips press into his, hands stroking the arms that were framing your face. He immediately responds in kind, lips moving in tandem with yours. You melt into him at the reciprocated motion. His arms soon move to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. Your arms reach around his neck, hands resting at the nape of his neck. As he deepens the kiss, you run your hands up, down, and through the dark curls on the back of his head, earning a groan from your partner.
A burst of warmth sparks from within your very being, traveling further and further through your body until you’re consumed by flames. Half of your mind is scrambling to make sense of reality, and the other half is completely consumed by passion.
After a moment, you reluctantly separate from one another, panting to catch your breath. It’s as if the world stopped spinning when you connected, and then started up again when you parted. 
Giving a nervous look to the man you just kissed, you’re elated when he gives you an ear-to-ear grin. He grasps one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. His other hand comes up to cup your face again, thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.
You stay silent for the time being, letting the moment marinate. He brings up your joined hands to kiss the back of your palm. Your heart jumps with joy at the sight.
Bucky gives an exhale before breaking the silence.
“You are most definitely worth it.”
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proxima-writes · 4 months
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title: a very furby christmas
pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x female reader
rating: t
word count: 3.6k
joel miller masterlist | all masterlists
summary:
it’s christmas eve 1998 and joel miller thinks everything is perfect.
well, until his brother admits he didn’t get sarah the one present she wanted - the furby. now, joel has to go out on christmas eve to find the year’s hottest toy that’s been sold out for months.
turns out, you’re on the same mission. and you’ve both found the last furby in town.
author’s note:
this is just a silly lil feel good holiday fic that’s been plaguing my brain. if you are too young to have experience the furby craze, i implore you to look it up. however, if you do remember, i hope this gives you a happy dose of nostalgia. gingerbread dividers by @saradika-graphics
tags/warnings:
pre-outbreak, no use of y/n, holiday/christmas fic, the last toy trope, no smut, age gap - not explicitly specified but joel is 31 and reader is mid-20s, the great miller gingerbread construction competition, operation get sarah miller a furby, some kissing.
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“Dad! Wake up!” Sarah shouts, bursting into Joel’s room. She leaps onto the bed, bouncing on her knees and jostling him around on the mattress as he groans.
“Sarah, baby, it’s too damn early,” he says, pulling the quilt over his head. “Go back to sleep.”
“But it’s Christmas Eve!” The bouncing stops as she lays beside him, tugging the quilt down. “It’s time to make cinnamon rolls. And we gotta make cookies for Santa.”
Joel blinks, his daughter’s face coming into focus, bright brown eyes and a gap toothed smile filling his vision. Her hair is a wild mess from sleep and her unicorn pajama shirt is stained with toothpaste. At eight years old, she’s starting to lean out, her cheeks no longer as round and her limbs at that stage of awkward adolescent lankiness. He wants to sleep, wants a few more hours of rest after a jam packed holiday season of repairs and deadlines and supply issues, but looking at her smiling face and remembering that she’s getting older…
Well, that gets him moving.
“Alright. Let’s get downstairs and make Santa the best cookies he’s ever had.”
She squeals, scrambling off the bed and racing out of the room, light footsteps descending the stairs as he rubs the sleep from his eyes and gets up to find a t-shirt in the pile of laundry he’s neglected to put away, opting to dig through its wrinkled contents for what he needs each day instead.
He makes his way downstairs and to find his daughter rummaging through the fridge and pulling out eggs and milk for their customary Christmas Eve cinnamon rolls and the jangle of keys in the doorknob lets him know that Tommy has arrived.
“Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas, Millers!” His younger brother announces. “Sarah! It don’t smell like cinnamon in here!”
“Dad woke up late,” she shouts back. Tommy grins at Joel as he passes, slapping a hand on his shoulder.
“‘Course he did,” he says with a wink. Joel rolls his eyes as he gets the electric mixer from the top cabinet for Sarah and preheats the oven for her.
“Y’know, Santa can take all those presents he’s got ready for you and leave them at other houses for nicer kids,” he says. Sarah’s eyes go wide.
“He wouldn’t!” She yelps. “I’ve been good all year!”
“Don’t listen to your daddy, sweetheart. He’s just bein’ a sensitive Sally,” Tommy says. She breathes a sigh of relief, her attention returning to her task of cracking eggs.
“I just really hope Santa brings me a Furby,” she says wistfully. “I want one of ‘em so bad. Chrissy got one when they came out in October and they’re so cool!”
“I’m sure Santa will come through,” Joel says, catching Tommy’s eye and winking. Tommy’s brows pinch together as he mouths, “What?”
Joel widens his eyes at him, a look that screams, “What do you mean, what?!”
Tommy continues to look confused and Joel squeezes his eyes shut, turning back to his daughter to help her with rolling out the dough she’s mixed up. She continues to chat about her excitement for tomorrow, especially because her big sister has agreed to stop by in the morning.
“You didn’t forget that she’s coming, right?” Sarah asks.
“‘Course not, sweetie,” Joel replies distractedly. The hours Joel works aren’t always conducive to a prompt after school pick up, so most days Sarah spends time with a volunteer from the Empowered Girls program that she calls her “big sister”. He always forgets her name, but he knows she’s a student working on her master’s degree in elementary education at University of Texas. Did he forget she was coming? Yeah, maybe, but he’s got bigger problems right now.
Like the fact that Tommy is acting like he has no clue he was supposed to get Sarah that damn Furby for Christmas.
Once the cinnamon rolls are in the oven and Sarah returns to her room to get dressed for the day, Joel smacks Tommy on the back of the head.
“Ow! The fuck?” He asks, rubbing the sore spot. “What was that for?”
“Tell me you didn’t forget that perfect little girl’s goddamn talkin’ demon toy or I’ll do it again,” Joel warns, already raising his hand. Tommy scrambles from his seat, hands held up defensively as he backs himself up against the counter to get away from his brother’s assault.
“You didn’t tell me to get one!” He insists. Joel stares at him incredulously.
“I sure as hell did! I gave you fifty bucks three weeks ago and asked you to get one because I’d be workin’ OT until Christmas Eve and it would be too late by then!”
“I thought the fifty was for me. Like an early gift or somethin’.”
Joel closes his eyes and attempts to take a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, he feels no more calm as he looks at his brother.
“Great. Now I’m gonna have to go to the goddamn toy store on Christmas Eve to find one of these things.”
“I’ll go for you,” Tommy offers. Joel hits him with a look.
“No. I ain’t makin’ that mistake again. You’re stayin’ here with Sarah and I’ll go get the Furball.”
“It’s Furby,” Tommy corrects. Joel reaches out and smacks his head again before he can protect himself.
Sarah returns to the kitchen, dressed in her Rudolph t-shirt and jeans and smiling brightly as she says, “I’m ready to make cookies!”
Joel smiles apologetically. “Bad news, sweetheart. I gotta run down to a job site and check in on somethin’. Looks like a plumbin’ emergency.”
“On Christmas Eve?” She asks, smile dropping from her face. “But we have to make the cookies!”
“I know, I know, but Uncle Tommy will stay and help you. Ain’t that right, Tommy?”
“Yep. And we’ll make cookies better than any your daddy has ever made, too.”
Joel’s teeth grind together at the dig but he keeps smiling at his daughter. “Right. See? I shouldn’t be gone too long.”
“I guess,” she says forlornly. Her arms wrap around Joel’s legs and squeeze tightly. Joel smooths a hand over her wild hair, glaring at Tommy.
“Sorry, sweetie. But the sooner I head out, the sooner I can get back, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbles against his thigh. “I’ll make sure Uncle Tommy doesn’t eat all the dough before we bake it.
“That’s my girl,” Joel says.
________
You knew you shouldn’t have waited this long to go shopping for your little sister’s Christmas gift, but you’d picked up extra shifts at your part time job since you weren’t flying home for the holiday break and time just slipped away from you. Now you’re entering your fourth store on a desperate hunt for the one toy she hasn’t stopped talking about since it came out in October.
“It’s called a Furby and the more you talk to it, the more it learns,” she told you, showing you the fluffy toy in a catalog one day. “Isn’t it so cute?!”
“It’s…something,” you replied, staring at its dead eyes. “And that’s what you want for Christmas?”
“Yeah, I don’t know if Santa will bring it for me. I told dad about it, but he’s been really busy with work and I don’t know if he remembered to tell Santa.”
You wander around the store, looking for the garish pink and blue sign that lorded over the toy display. You finally spot it, crossing your fingers as you quickly approach what looks like a mostly barren shelf. There’s something on the bottom row, but your experience in other stores has showed you that often people abandon their unwanted items in the Furby display, leading to false hope.
“Please, please, please,” You mumble, moving quickly now. You’re trying not to break into a run in the middle of the store but after so many disappointments, you can’t be blamed for your steps turning into a light jog.
A pair of unseeing mechanical blue eyes stare back at you from the bottom shelf as you get closer. Pristine white fur, pointed ears, and a little yellow beak encased in plastic.
The last Furby.
You’re so close to success you can taste it.
You reach for the toy, ready to scoop it into your arms and take a victory march to the lone cashier left working, when a tan hand emerges from your left, landing on the box just as you touch it.
“‘Scuse me,” a deep voice says, southern drawl blanketing the words. You look up, gaze meeting the warm brown eyes of a handsome man, tall and broad with messy dark curls. He smiles, all smooth charm as he says, “I’m goin’ to need this toy.”
You stand firm. “I think I was here first, sir.”
The charming smile drops. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Look, I need this toy for my daughter. I’ve been lookin’ for one all over town.”
You place your free hand on your hip. “I need it for my little sister and I’ve also been all over town today. If you needed it so bad, why didn’t you get it sooner?”
“Pot, meet kettle,” he replies. You roll your eyes. “Come on, please? Ain’t there somethin’ else your little sister is dyin’ to have?”
“She’s talked about this toy for months,” you tell him. “And she’s worried Santa isn’t going to bring it, so I wanted to make sure I got her one.”
He smiles softly. “Sounds like my daughter. She handed me no less than five letters to Santa to mail off askin’ for one.”
“So why didn’t you get one before tonight?” You ask curiously.
“My dumbass brother,” he says. “I‘ve been workin’ overtime for the last few months, so I told him to go out and get one. He didn’t listen.”
“That sucks.”
“What about you? What made you wait so long?”
It should probably feel weird, having a full conversation with a stranger while you’re in a stand off over a Furby, but the man’s smile has your stomach twisting, wanting to know more about him and oddly thrilled that he wants to know more about you, too.
“I picked up a lot of extra shifts since I’m on break. I go to UT,” you tell him. “Time just got away from me.”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with the feelin’.”
A crackle sounds over the store speakers, a bored voice announcing, “Attention Toys R’ Us shoppers. The store will be closing in five minutes. Please make your way to the front of the store to complete your purchases.”
The man’s expression grows panicked. You sigh, taking your hand from the box.
“Get it for your daughter,” you tell him. “Keep that Santa magic going for a bit longer.”
“Are you sure?” He asks. “What’ll you get for your sister?”
You look around the store, spotting a sporting gear display. You take off in its direction.
“I’ll figure something out!”
________
“It’s a Furby!” Sarah shouts, shaking the box in her excitement. “Look, dad! Santa got me a Furby!”
“Is that so?” Joel says, sipping from his mug of coffee with a splash of Bailey’s, his own personal Christmas tradition. “See? I told ya I sent out all those letters you wrote.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She chants, running around the family room in her red plaid pajamas. Tommy, still barely awake, nods as Sarah shows him the list of features on the back.
It’s close to 9 a.m. but the Miller brothers had a late night of wrapping presents and drinking whiskey in order to have the tidy pile of brightly colored boxes ready beneath the tree for Sarah in the morning. Joel had also gotten her a new journal and a pack of Jelly pens, a few bottles of nail polish, and two new Beanie Babies for her collection. Tommy had sprung for a set of shin guards for when she starts soccer in March, something she was excited for ever since the girl she’d been paired with in her big sister after school program had played with her a few times.
It’s not much, but it’s what he could manage. Sarah is happy, her eyes lighting up with each gift she unwraps, and that’s all that matters to Joel.
A knock sounds at the door and Sarah races down the hall, Joel trailing after her trying to remind her not to open the door to strangers. The young girl doesn’t listen, instead throwing open the door and launching herself into the arms of someone surprisingly familiar.
You look up, eyes going wide in surprise he’s sure mirrors his own. Sarah drags you in by the hand, excitedly introducing you, giving Joel a name for the pretty face he’d been thinking about all last night.
“Hi, I’m Joel,” he says, holding a hand out to you. You slip your palm against his, warm and smooth, shaking his hand. The smile on your face is mischievous, the secret the two of you share dancing in your eyes.
“Nice to meet you, Joel,” you tell him. “Hope I’m not too early, Sarah said you open presents around eight and to come after that.”
“No, no, ‘course it ain’t too early,” he assures you. He realizes he’s still holding your hand, even as silence settles between you. With a laugh, he draws back, running his hand through his hair nervously. “You want coffee?”
“Sure.”
Joel leads you to the kitchen where Tommy is pulling a fresh tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven under Sarah’s careful supervision. He whacks her hand with a dish towel when she tries to reach for the steaming hot dessert and she pouts pitifully. She spots the gift bag in your hand and her eyes light up.
“Is that a present for me?” She asks.
“Sarah Elizabeth Miller,” Joel chastises. You laugh, handing the bag over to her. She rips the tissue paper from the top, reaching in for her gift with a wide smile.
“A soccer ball!” She exclaims. “Dad, you can help me practice in the backyard now!”
You share a look with Joel, one where his gaze is filled with gratitude and yours reflects understanding. The moment is made brief by Sarah trying to bounce the ball on her knee, knocking it onto a counter and subsequently being told to go put it away for now.
You introduce yourself to Tommy while Joel pulls you a mug of coffee. Sarah brings her now unboxed Furby into the kitchen, setting it in a place of honor on the dining table.
“Dad, can you put batteries in Snowball?” Sarah asks. She turns to you. “That’s his name.”
“Oh. Hello, Snowball,” you say, voice serious as you regard the toy. Joel laughs while he digs around the junk drawer for the rogue batteries that hide beneath bills and takeout menus.
As breakfast is served and toys are turned on, conversation flows between everyone easily. It’s a wonder, Joel thinks. You fit right in with his little family, like you were meant to be there all along. Maybe it’s the Bailey’s in his coffee, or maybe it’s the spirit of Christmas, but he can’t help the warmth in his chest as he watches you help Sarah with the Furby that started it all.
________
You’ve been at the Miller house since early that morning, through all three meals of the day, many rounds of coffee, a screening of Home Alone and A Christmas Story, and painting your nails with Sarah. Not once does anyone make you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome. In fact, as the day wears on, you can’t help but think that Joel, like you, doesn’t want the day to end. You keep catching his eye and the crooked smile he gives you leaves you feeling giddy.
After dinner, Joel and Tommy start gathering what looks like cookie decorating supplies. Sarah sighs and you turn to her with concern.
“It’s time for the gingerbread competition,” she says, more solemn than an eight year old ought to be. Joel leaves the room and returns with a caulking gun.
“Why does he have that?” You ask, watching as he loads a saran wrapped bag of icing into the chamber.
“They take this…very seriously.”
Tommy and Joel set up decorating stations on either end of the dining table, shooing you out of your seat. Sarah grabs a cookie from a platter on the counter and settles onto a barstool while you stand by, confused and maybe a little scared.
“Are you ready?” Sarah asks. Both men nod. “Start your construction!”
Joel and Tommy rip into the cardboard gingerbread house kits, determination in every move. Joel uses the caulking gun to lay a foundation for the floor of his house, followed by the sides and the roof in quick succession. While Joel is going for a well built structure, Tommy takes a more avant garde approach, using a combination of licorice and frosting to hold his house together.
“Are they always like this?” You ask, fascinated as you watch them.
“Sometimes they’re worse.”
Tommy chucks a peppermint at Joel’s head, the candy bouncing off his forehead and landing on his gingerbread shingles. He counters with a gumdrop that manages to hit Tommy square in the eye, angry curses falling from the younger Miller brother’s lips as he tries to recover and continue the construction of his mid-century cookie home.
“Quit fightin’ dirty,” Joel says when Tommy whines about him being unfair. “I‘ll only fight dirtier.”
You know that the words aren’t meant to be suggestive but you can feel your cheeks go warm nonetheless. The Furby in Sarah’s arms coos, a string of indecipherable words coming from its little yellow beak.
“What did it say?” You ask.
“I’m not sure. It’s still speaking Furbish,” she says.
“It said,” Joel chimes in, setting down his frosting gun, “that I’m the gingerbread construction champ.”
Joel’s little gingerbread house looks like it’s straight from a magazine. Perfectly built, structurally sound, and classically decorated with candy and sugar. You and Sarah both applaud as Tommy groans. His little house lists to the side and a glob of icing drips to the table.
“Don’t worry, Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says to her dejected uncle, patting him on the shoulder. “There’s always next year.”
“Alright, it’s time to start closin’ up shop. To bed with you,” Joel announces, steering Sarah for the stairs.
“Can’t I stay up later?” She complains. The Furby echoes her tone convincingly.
“I already fell for that last night. You’re not gettin’ away with it twice. Bed, and brush your teeth,” he replies, kissing her on the head. “Tell everyone goodnight.”
She hugs you and Tommy before heading upstairs, the Furby chirping as she goes. Tommy punches Joel lightly on the shoulder.
“You know I let you win, right?” He asks. Joel scoffs.
“The proof is in the cookie,” he says.
Tommy rolls his eyes. “Whatever, man. I’m headin’ home,” he says, hugging his brother. To your surprise, his arms wrap around you in a quick squeeze as well. “It was nice to meet you. Don’t be a stranger,” he tells you with a wink.
When the front door clicks shut, it’s just you and Joel in the kitchen. You’re inexplicably nervous now, despite spending the whole day with the man, and you busy yourself by loading the dishwasher with mugs stained by hot chocolate and coffee.
“You don’t have to do that,” Joel says, gently grasping your wrist. He removes the mug from your hand and sets it on the counter. He pulls you close, your chest brushing his as you take in a surprised breath. “This okay?”
“Yeah,” you murmur. Up close, you can see the stubble that’s grown along his jaw, the slight creases in the corners of his eyes, and that his nose is just the slightest bit crooked. A heavy palm rests on your lower back, the heat of him palpable even through your t-shirt.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice dropped low in the quiet room.
You nod, unable to form words, but that’s okay. His hand cups your cheek and his lips press to yours and your eyes flutter shut, a sigh escaping you as you lean into him. It’s soft at first, experimental. A tentative exploration of a broken boundary.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding tight as he parts your lips and his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like sugar - peppermints and hot chocolate and cookies that he’s eaten throughout the day sweetening his kiss. When he pulls back for a breath, he dips his forehead against yours, smoothing his thumb across your cheek.
“Been wantin’ to do that all day,” he tells you. He kisses you once, twice, and is about to go in for a third when a voice from upstairs interrupts him.
“Dad?” Sarah calls. Joel steps back from you, leaning past the kitchen doorway to yell back a, “Yeah?”
“Snowball won’t stop talking,” she replies. Footsteps sound on the stairs and Joel breaks away from you as Sarah enters the kitchen, Furby in hand.
“Take the batteries out,” Joel suggests.
“I did.”
She turns the toy over, showing the empty battery compartment. Joel rubs the back of his neck as he thinks.
“Tell you what,” he says, holding his hands out for the toy, “Why don’t we stick it in the hall closet for the night?”
“Won’t he be scared?”
“It’s…it’s a toy, baby.” You stifle a laugh as he shoves the talking Furby beneath some towels in the linen closet and shuts the door. “There, now you can both get some sleep. You can play with Snowball again in the mornin’.”
Sarah yawns, nodding. Joel kisses her head before urging her back to bed. When he returns, his shoulders shake with silent laughter.
“What a weird toy,” you tell him, eyeing the closet suspiciously.
“Yeah, but it’s what got us here,” he says, pulling you into his arms once more.
302 notes · View notes
good-chimes · 11 months
Text
THE H.T.G.Y. FILES
Project team notes: Vat growth stage has been successful. Please note project is titled Human Tactical Ground-unit Y (H.T.G.Y.) and this is the only designation that should be used. Lab technicians who continue to use slang term hotguy will be written up. 
Senior researcher CUB-135 has been called in to consult. Please give him access to all non-sensitive files.
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: Well, hello there!
CUB-135: Hi. How’s it, uh. How’s it going?
HTGY: How’s it going? Huh, that’s the first time someone’s asked me that. Wait a minute. I know that one. How’s it going. Oh, oh, I got it. It’s going great!
CUB-135: …Cool.
HTGY: Yeah. Yeah. Isn’t it great to be alive and awake? How’s it treating you?
CUB-135: It’s magnificent.
HTGY: [laughing] Magnificent. Oh, I like that. Who are you, my friend?
CUB-135: I’m a consultant. Cub-one-three-five. The project team dragged me in because I wrote the genome.
HTGY: Consultant…. So you’re the one who does their thinking for them, huh?
CUB-135: [surprised laugh] Yeah.
HTGY: Well, I’m telling you, they need it. Buncha people prodding me to see if I can stand up! You can just ask that, can’t you? A man’s gotta have space, Cub. A man’s gotta do things under his own steam.
CUB-135: Yeah, I guess. Yeah.
HTGY: [conspiratorial] Here’s a question. Got a lot of things in my head, Cub. The ol’ memory’s all messed up. I’m new, right?
CUB-135: You’re new. That’s right.
HTGY: I thought so! How new?
CUB-135: Uhh… three days? Three days and two hours.
HTGY: Thank you! Finally. Can’t get a straight answer out of anyone here.
CUB-135: …you want your genome notes?
HTGY: Boy, do I! What’s a genome?
CUB-135: Uh. Okay. Let’s see what we can do. I need some files. A lotta files.
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: Oh, we have to stop.
CUB-135: Yeah?
HTGY: That noise means I gotta be somewhere.
CUB-135: Mm.
HTGY: Just more prodding and check-ups, I guess. Can’t take long. Come back, okay? I'll be here, at least I guess I'll be here. I've been here all the time so far. Tomorrow?
CUB-135: …
CUB-135: Alright. Tomorrow.
+
DEATH COUNT: 1
+
Project team notes: First trial (subject vs two skeletons obtained from Lab 2E spawner) did not meet expectations. Subject (H.T.G.Y.) is slow to grasp the basics of hand-to-hand combat despite neural implants. Speed below benchmark. Precision poor. Regeneration not fast enough to alter outcome of combat.
Although a disappointing start to the project, there are promising leads in some areas. Combat abilities expected to improve through repetition. Deficiencies in combat conversely allow better collection of regeneration data.
Subject observation: when returned to room, subject spent six hours seated and unmoving. Scheduling next test for tomorrow.
+
[CUB-135 OBSERVATIONS]
note to self, find a way to phrase: ‘he was a project for faster injury regeneration, you fucking amateurs, nothing in that genome makes him magically good at fighting’ in a way that doesn’t include the phrase ‘you fucking amateurs’. difficult problem. 
going back in. this one will be less fun.
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: Hey, it’s Mister Does-The-Thinking! Cub, hey, Cub!
CUB-135: Hey.
HTGY: You’re looking serious today. What’s up?
CUB-135: I’m good. I’m good.
HTGY: That’s what I like to hear. Can’t have the big-brain guy down in the dumps.
CUB-135: How was yesterday?
HTGY: Ohhh. Yesterday, Cub, yesterday. I don’t think I’m that good at fighting. There were a lot of very unhelpful skeletons, Cub. A lot of them! Really mean! I think it’s going to be regular. I am not looking forward to that.
CUB-135: Mm.
HTGY: Any chance you can make it, y’know. Fewer monsters? They hurt.
CUB-135: Sorry, man. I don’t set the tests.
HTGY: Naw, I didn’t think so. You don’t look like a guy in charge.
CUB-135: Is that right?
HTGY: You’re just, you know [hand gesture] … laid back. I like that about you.
CUB-135: Uh.
HTGY: So. Cub. Cub, Cub, Cub.
CUB-135: …yeah?
HTGY: I’ve got this thing in my head. The sky.
CUB-135: The sky? Like… all of it?
HTGY: I dunno! You people put some pictures in my memories when you made me, I think. Horizons, clouds—I know they’re made of water, but how does that work? I saw a bit during the fight and it was kind of grey? Talk me through clouds, Cub. You’re good at explaining. And the rest of it! Where does it stop? What’s above it?
CUB-135: Oh, dude. Let me tell you… let me tell you about space.
+
To: +Team_Members_HTGY_Project
From: CUB-135
Y’all,
I looked at your trial notes. Project lead asked for my thoughts. My thoughts:
- inefficient; - could get the same regeneration data from tissue samples; - waste of skeletons.
You want to find another way. The combat unit thing was doomed from the start. If you want a supersoldier you should start over with a ravager.
have a real one,
Cub
+
Project team notes: One-month project milestone. Consultancy from CUB-135 has started to be more of a problem than an asset. Unfortunately he is the only one who understands how to process the regeneration data so assistance remains necessary for now. Upskilling of team analysts in progress.
Test continue. H.T.G.Y. has been given a variety of weapons and results range from abysmal (sword) to mediocre (bow). Subject has so far lost to every creature put in front of him. If the combat goals of this project are to be met, a better training regime will be needed.
On a separate note: great interest from sponsors in mid-combat regeneration data. A variety of tests has been requested.
+
New data storage links: EXPLOSION (creeper) – File CR93; FIRE BURN (wood) – File FR02; FIRE BURN (other) – File FR03; BLOOD LOSS – File IN20; VENOM – File VM07, UNCATEGORIZED – UN45-UN51.
+
DEATH COUNT: 23
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: You know what the problem is?
CUB-135: I can guess?
HTGY: I’m so bored.
CUB-135: Okay. Didn’t see that coming.
HTGY: I’m so bored. Honestly, I’m bored most of the time. Except when I’m getting killed, which isn’t great either. Or when you’re here—you know I appreciate you, Cub, you’re a great guy, don’t get me wrong. But you’re only around every couple of days, and it’s the bits in between.
CUB-135: Mm.
HTGY: Can’t you clone yourself, or something, and leave one here?
CUB-135: Nah, outside my specialism. Hm. You talked to Mumbo much? Mumbo’s always around.
HTGY: The lab system?
[null]: Hello. Can I answer a query?
HTGY: Oh, hi, Mumbo. Yeah, I’ve talked to Mumbo. But let’s be honest, he’s not much of one to start conversations. I can never think of things to ask.
[null]: What I can communicate to subjects on this level has been restricted by administrators.
HTGY: See?
CUB-135: Get him to show you… I dunno. Cat videos. Space stuff. Forests. They won’t have locked that down.
HTGY: Forests. Yeah! Okay. Mumbo?
[null]: I’m allowed to show pictures of forests. How’s this?
HTGY: Look at that. So green. So many trees! How close is that picture from here?
CUB-135: Kinda nearby, I think. Looks like a research shot from where they caught the spiders. Lots of the wild subjects in here came from close by.
HTGY: Amazing. Hey, Cub, can you get them to take me to a forest? Tree training! Beat the spiders in their own home!
CUB-135: Why not? I’ll ask.
HTGY: They’ll say no. But it’s good to think of it out there.
+
Project team notes: Six-month project milestone. Useful data continues to accumulate. HTGY has improved with bow and crossbow, and survival rate has risen to one in ten encounters.
Unfortunately, a new issue has arisen in subject cooperation. Most tests are set up to incentivize survival, making attitude irrelevant. However non-lethal tests require participation, which has previously been forthcoming from the subject, until yesterday when he refused to participate at all.
CUB-135 seems to have a rapport. Suggest he talks with subject to encourage better attitude. This would be the first useful thing CUB-135 has done in weeks.
+
DEATH COUNT: 97
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
CUB-135: Hey. What’s up.
HTGY: Oh. Hey.
CUB-135: Not feeling it today?
HTGY: I knew it. I know why you’re here. I know why they sent you to talk to me.
CUB-135: Try me.
HTGY: It was a cat, Cub. I’ll take the fights. I’ll take the training machines, they break half the time anyway. I’ll take the spiders and the skeletons and the creepers and the fact I know way too much about what my bones look like. But I’m not shooting a cat! I don’t care if it’s safe target practice. I’m not doing it!
CUB-135: Yeah. Okay.
HTGY: …
CUB-135: So what do you wanna talk about today?
HTGY: You’re not gonna try and convince me?
CUB-135: Naw.
HTGY: Cub, I’m not shooting anything that’s not trying to kill me.
CUB-135: Yeah, I know.
HTGY: You know?
CUB-135: I read your test notes. I can guess.
HTGY: Aw, you read my test notes? You care! Don’t pretend you don’t, I can see through it.
CUB-135: What can I say. You’re an interesting guy.
HTGY: I knew it! Oh, hey, Cub, you know what? I came up with a new name for myself. What do you think—[dramatic hand gesture]—Scar.
CUB-135: …
HTGY: Cool, right?
CUB-135: Scar. Yeah. It’s cool.
+
Project team notes: CUB-135 entirely unhelpful. Schedule escalation meeting with bioprojects lead.
+
[message log start]
Lead (bioprojects): Well, you got what you originally wanted. You’re off the HTGY project.
cub-135: wait, what?
Lead (bioprojects): You’re no longer permitted in the labs on that level. I need you to turn in your badge for reprogramming.
cub-135: oh man
cub-135: here’s the thing
cub-135: i lost it
Lead (bioprojects): You lost your BADGE?
cub-135: yeah i’ve just been following people through the access doors
Lead (bioprojects): That’s against all policy. I don’t think that’s even possible. How do you get lunch?
cub-135: cheat code on the cash register. up up down down A B.
Lead (bioprojects): You’re not funny. Find your badge and turn it in to get your HTGY level access revoked.
cub-135: oh yeah. i’ll get to that.
Lead (bioprojects): You’re lucky you’re good at your job.
cub-135: just trying my best here, man
Lead (bioprojects): No interference. If the team complain to me about you again, you’re getting demoted to junior lab tech. Leave the project alone.
cub-135: sure boss.
cub-135: you got it.
[Lead(bioprojects) has disconnected]
+
Project Team Notes: Eight-month project milestone. Sponsors pleased with regeneration data. Two papers have been published to modest but positive reception.
After period of progress with HTGY’s survival rates in combat, improvement has levelled off. Subject appears to have less energy for reasons that are unclear. Random observational checks found subject watching cat videos at all hours of the day. Changes in diet and test structure have been tested to no effect. Rest time has been experimentally increased.
+
DEATH COUNT: 167
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: Hey, Cub! Long time no see!
Cub: Yeah, sorry, man. Some admin bullshit.
HTGY: Your badge looks different.
Cub: Made it myself. How’s the tests?
HTGY: Oh, let’s not talk about those. You know what, I actually decided I’m not going to remember something if it’s not worth it. All the fights are the same and they keep doing them. So! I’ve been thinking. Cub. Cub. I want a cat. Can I get a cat?
Cub: …
HTGY: Just a little one. I’ve seen some options. Mumbo has pictures. 
Cub: Dunno, dude. I can try. Might be tricky.
HTGY: [sigh] I guess you’re right. It…wouldn’t be happy, would it? Yeah. We can’t have that.
CUB: Sorry.
HTGY: No, no, it’s all right. I don’t want to make something unhappy. It was just a thought. 
CUB-135: What’s on the screen?
HTGY: [brightens up] Oh, this? Dude, I wanted to show you this! Mumbo has this drawing program where you can build houses. This is my idea for a forest house. I think you could do it with three kinds of wood and you could have, you know, all these trees over it. What do you think? I mean, I know we’ll never see a forest. But imagine it in your mind.
CUB: … You know what, my friend, you’re really something.
HTGY: Why thank you. You could say the same of yourself—come on, Cub, don’t be shy. Take the compliment!
CUB-135: I don’t—
[silence]
HTGY: Don’t what?
CUB-135: [abruptly] I dunno how much more I can take.
HTGY: …
CUB-135: I—what am I even doing? What are we doing? There’s nothing to change. There’s no way to change anything.
HTGY: … You could get me a cat.
CUB-135: I can’t! I can barely get around the access readers! I can’t even get into the project files! Ten years of research and I feel dumb, Scar, I could solve everything until I couldn’t. What would you do if you weren’t in here? Man, that’s such a stupid question. I don’t even know what I’d do if I wasn’t in here. My references are gonna be shot. Maybe I should have paid attention to something else, maybe I should have done anything else—
HTGY: I’d like to see some forests.
CUB-135: Huh?
HTGY: You said ‘what would I do’. I’d go and see some forests.
CUB-135: …
CUB-135: Forests, huh.
HTGY: Anyway, that’s not going to happen, so I guess we don’t want to waste time on it! They need you here. And you guys need me here. Right?
CUB-135: …
HTGY: Right, Cub-one-three-five?
CUB-135: Y’know something, Scar? Sometimes I think you do more thinking more than you let on.
HTGY: Huh? Naw. Why’s your badge gone red?
CUB-135: Oh shit. Shit. I gotta go.
+
[message log start]
cub-135: listen boss
cub-135: first you bump me off the HTGY project, and now i’ve just had my name taken off the ravager patent. that’s my own work.
cub-135: this keeps happening. it’s not okay.
Lead (bioprojects) : CUB-135, for the last time, this was what you signed up for.  It’s the same for all researchers. You have to put the time in while you move up the ladder.
Lead (bioprojects): Have you just noticed this is how the whole laboratory works?
cub-135: oh
cub-135: i’m noticing
cub-135: i’m noticing lots of things about this place
Lead (bioprojects): Good. If you have an issue, focus on your work and get promoted.
cub-135: yeah, see, actually
cub-135: if nothing changes, i’m going to leave. and i’ll take all my intellectual property with me.
Lead (bioprojects): Hah! Check your employment papers; you’re on a 10-year contract. It’s watertight. And even if you could get out of it, you’re banned from taking paper or data chips out of lab grounds.
cub-135: yeah?
cub-135: okay.
[cub-135 has disconnected]
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
CUB-135: Hey. Scar. Scar.
HTGY: Cub! What’s with the doohickey? It—oh, wow. That just zapped the light. Amazing.
CUB-135: Mumbo, lock transcript.
[null]: Transcript locked.
CUB-135: Okay. So. I made this thing to hijack the redstone gate down by the Drowned spawners on Lab 3B. It screws up the signal so you can get through. There’s a reservoir behind it. I put in a bubble elevator that will take you up outside the walls. I’ve got to stay behind to take out the cameras while you do it. Then I’ll get out with the evening shift.
HTGY: Wait, so I just take this and run? What if they find out about you?
CUB-135: If you do that I’m screwed, man. So don’t tell them.
HTGY: Yeah?
CUB-135: …Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. You could turn me in.
[silence]
CUB-135: Maybe you should. Yeah, all right. I guess, just—oh.
HTGY: Relax! Anyone would think you’d never had a hug.
CUB-135: …
HTGY: My friend. My friend, we are going to see some forests.
+
[AUDIO TRANSCRIPT]
HTGY: The speed! The precision!
CUB-135: Whew. Man. You did nearly drown.
HTGY: What’s important here is that I didn’t, because I am an elite escape artist. And you got out too, so I guess we can share the title.
CUB-135: We’re not far enough to say that yet. I’d bet we’re still in range of the lab systems.
HTGY: Details, details.
CUB-135: You’re bleeding.
HTGY: Oh man, I know, that was from the last test. It doesn’t matter.
CUB-135: Give me that.
HTGY: Fussy! What are you, a grandpa? Ow.
CUB-135: If you don’t stop and let me fix it you’re going to lose that finger. And I can’t grow it again when we don’t have the redstone vats.
HTGY: You were never this fussy before.
CUB-135: Yeah, well. Who even did it?
HTGY: I don’t…
[silence]
HTGY: Huh. Cub, you know what, I don’t…remember.
HTGY: Hey, though. Who everything filed and stored like a nerd? Who needs all their memories where we’re going? We’re getting out! Onwards!
[silence]
HTGY: Cub. Cub.
HTGY: Don’t look like that.
HTGY: It wasn’t your fault.
[silence]
CUB-135: Scar, I dunno what I’m doing.
HTGY: I’ve never known what I’m doing.
CUB-135: [laughs] You are…something, my friend. You are something.
HTGY: We don’t know what we're doing. And that’s amazing. Because aren’t you excited to find out?
+
Author's note: Hey, thanks for reading to the end! There's a better formatted version of this on Ao3 under username glossyblue. I've got a lot of this au but thought this stood alone well enough that someone might enjoy it. Hope you enjoyed, have a great day.
424 notes · View notes
clone-captain-spark · 17 days
Note
Congrats on 80!! Saw your post, so I'm requesting!! I love heavy and he has little rep so I would love some sort of slowburn heavy x reader, I don't really have anything specific if that's okay!! If you can't do anything with this request I understand lol but thank you 💚
A/N: Ah! Ty! And I saw your other thing as well so this is fem reader! Another note, since this is tf2, I’ll reblog it and add it to my tf2 Masterlist as well on @captain-pheonix . Enjoy!
P.S: this took long because I’ve been writing non stop for school recently, which has in turn given me writers block creatively, plus I wanted to make this a little lengthy considering it’s slow burn. Anyways, sorry about that! Life gets in the way every time I want to write, it’s crazy 🤪.
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Heavy x fem!reader slow burn: Little Big Crush
Warnings: Limited use of y/n, very mild swears
The day’s battle ended, right on schedule. You chased out the blu team and managed to stop the payload before it hit the second last checkpoint.
Red team started walking back to base. You desperately needed a shower and some food after all that. You watched as heavy was talking to medic, telling him something that made him laugh. You loved his laugh. He really was just a stoic shell full of love.
Scout suddenly stepped in from your left, breaking you out of your thoughts and making you jump. “Sooo…do you like him or not?” He wore a cheeky grin.
You took a moment before telling him, but realized if you said ‘no’, he wouldn’t believe you anyway. “…yeah. Fine.”
“Ha! Knew it. Y’know, you gotta at least hang out or talk to him sometime, right?”
“Just—stay out of it, kid. I know how to live my life.”
“Kid? I’m 27.”
“With the maturity and relationship experience of 5. Now go away.”
“Okay, you win, but I’m tellin’ ya, you’ll just regret it more if ya don’t do anythin’ .” He dashed ahead to talk with Sniper, probably making plans to get tacos like they usually do on Tuesdays.
“He’s right, isn’t he?” You spoke after a moment, over to Demo who had been walking near you two.
“Well lass,...You’re just gonna regret it if you don’t do something. For once, he’s right.”
You looked at the ground, then back at Heavy, who had finished talking with Medic, who was now telling Sniper to get his arm checked out before him and Scout’s taco night.
“Go on, talk to ‘im. There’s no harm in it.” Demo said encouragingly.
A deep breath. A few extra steps. Another deep breath. Going over a greeting in your head. Heart racing. Why is your heart racing? This should be simple.
“Hey, Heavy. I saw that play on the Spy you did today. It was a great shot.”
Heavy looks over at you and processes what you just said to him.
“Oh, yes. Thank you. Spy deserved it. He was always in intelligence.”
“Yeah.” You could feel your face turning beet red, so you looked at the ground.
“Is something the matter?”
“Oh! Hah, no, no, I’m ok, thanks.” You chuckled nervously.
Heavy hummed in response. A beat of silence.
“Doing anything fun or interesting tonight?”
“No. I just call sisters and mama. Why does (y/n) ask?”
“Uh—no reason. I don’t have anything planned either. What if we got a poker game going?”
Heavy looked happy at the thought. “This is good idea. I will ask others if they will join.”
“Cool—Well, uh, I guess I’ll be in rec room at 7, or whenever dinner is done.”
“Who makes dinner tonight?”
“I think it’s gonna be Engie. I heard he’s making chili.”
Heavy hummed. “I will see you in evening.”
“Yeah, you too.”
The team had since reached spawn and were putting their weapons and gear away. You couldn’t help but smile ear to ear to yourself as you put your things away. Part of you wished he’d stop making you fall in love.
After having a shower and a small pre-dinner snack, you headed toward your room to rest. You ran into Scout, who was dragging sniper out of his room. “C’mon, Snipes. The arm won’t get any better just sittin’ around.” He rolled his eyes at you, making you giggle. “Any luck with the big man?”
“We’re gonna have a poker game tonight, you in?”
“Oh yeah, I’ll be there—SNIPES!” He grabbed the Australian’s arm before he could slip away.
You just laughed and shook your head, walking through the doorway to your room.
——————
“Wake up, (y/n).”
You shuffled around, eyes fluttering open slowly.
“Oh, did I fall asleep?”
It took a moment for you to register that it was Heavy who was waking you up.
“Oh, hi Heavy.”
“Dinner is almost ready. Leetle Scout saw you sleeping and told Heavy to wake you up.”
“Oh. Okay.”
That amazing bastard, You thought.
“Thanks for waking me up,” You said with a smile, “didn’t realize I fell asleep.
Heavy gave you a humble nod and returned the smile. He got up to leave the room.
“Uh—Heavy?”
“Yes?”
A moment of quick, but quiet thought.
“Uh—Never mind.”
Heavy just nodded and left. What was I going to say? I love you? No. Your brain was speaking for your heart.
—————
The poker game had gotten off to a good start. There were lots of snacks, including the brownies Engineer decided to make after dinner. They were still warm from the oven, and it was safe to say they weren’t going to last more than an hour.
Scout had been weirdly often whispering over to Demo and Engie on either side of him. Obviously it was something scandalous, which is what their reaction read as. It made you ansty.
Should you have really told Scout that? But he would have figured it out anyway. Is he going to do something? Oh gosh, if he does I swear I’ll—
“Is your turn.” Heavy broke you out of your thoughts. You realized you had been zoning out for a moment.
“Oh—Thank you. Sorry.” You played the hand you had been keeping a high-stakes poker face on for most of the game so far.
A collective of groans went around the table, followed by the dejected slapping down of cards.
You were about to take the chips in the middle, but was stopped by Heavy playing his hand. A royal flush.
“Wow, where have you been keeping that?” Scout asked.
“He does have the best poker face.” You pointed out, “That makes him really good at it.”
Heavy’s ‘amazing poker face’ broke into a smirk, making you uncontrollably smile again.
The game got reset, but Scout was looking at you subtly with raised eyebrows and a smug expression, saying “oh, come on. You’re in love with this guy.”
You just rolled your eyes back at him and continued playing.
——————
Near the end of the evening, you played a hand that you managed to hold, hearing dejected slaps of cards around the table, mixed in with sighs. All except for heavy across from you, who put down his much better hand. You just laughed and pushed the chips towards him.
Everyone got up to head to bed, because it was getting late and they had more fighting in the morning. Heavy got up to leave you and Scout to putting the cards away, but you got up too so you could talk to him at least once more before the end of the night.
“I think that’s that is best play we’ve ever had at lousy poker table, that was good!” Heavy said.
“Ha, yeah! I was just about to say that.” You laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.”
“Yes. Good game, and good night.” Heavy was smiling ear to ear, and so were you. For once, you didn’t feel like it was forced conversation, and it felt good.
You returned to the table to help Scout again, and was met with a smiling, smug face pointed directly at you.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’m a hopeless romantic.”
“I wouldn’t say that hopeless.”
“Why? ‘Cause I’m sure I’m pretty hopeless.”
“Well, I guess I just wouldn’t say that. Heavy’s kinda actin’ like he knows he likes ya.”
A pause.
“Scout…what did you do?”
“Big deal, toots. He likes ya too.”
“YOU TOLD HIM? ARE YOU CRAZY?” You were getting close to starting a fight with this guy.
“Did ya not hear me? He. Likes. You. Too. The only reason I know, and the only reason he knows is ‘cause when you left to go to the bathroom he was looking all sad. Then I asked him, ‘hey, big fella, what’s got you all sad?’ An’ he said ‘I wish I could tell her’. So, I agreed to help him out a bit, an’ I told you about him and him about you!”
Another pause, longer this time.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
You closed the poker chip case and walked over to put it back on the shelf.
“So, now what then?”
“I don’t know, that’s kinda up ta you.”
“Well…I guess, maybe I should talk to him tomorrow? And…maybe what you did isn’t so bad..”
“No worries, pal. Go get ‘em tiger, and don’t let it keep you up. You got this.”
“Thanks, Scout.”
He nodded and left the room, picking up the magazine he was reading earlier on the way out.
That was sure a lot of information in one little conversation. You still felt mad at Scout for spilling your secrets like that, but at least he had good intentions.
You stayed up about fifteen more minutes that night, writing down and going over some things to say to Heavy, and finally got to sleep around midnight, sitting in bed and having the thoughts keep you awake.
——————
At about 8:00 am, you woke up to the usual alarm for battle at 9:00. As you sat up slowly, Scout was peering through the doorway.
“Obviously someone had some trouble sleepin’?”
“Wait..whu—“
“Look at the time, toots, you got 20.”
“I slept through that!? But that thing is so loud!”
“Yep. I’ll grab you some breakfast.”
“Crap..” you muttered under your breath, turning off the clock, “Thanks.”
—————
Almost stumbling into spawn, you got your gear on at light speed.
“Mission begins in five minutes.” The Administrator sounded.
Heavy tried making eye contact with you but you just immediately looked away, fearing the awkwardness of the conversation. Of course, he didn’t know that you knew though, so you thought about using that to your advantage.
As luck would have it, Heavy came up to you first. “Does (y/n) need help getting ready?”
“Oh, uh,” should you let him help you even if you don’t need it? Or just say ‘no thanks’? No. That would be rude. “Sure.”
Oh no—did that sound forced? What if he thinks I’m terrible now? What if—
“You do not look well again. Your face is very red.”
“Oh! Is—is it? That’s weird.”
Heavy handed you the rest of your gear as you finished tying your boots.
“Heavy wishes to talk later, if you have chance?” Heavy asked humbly and unexpectedly.
“Oh, yeah. Sure. After the battle probably works.”
Heavy gave a nod and carried his gun out through spawn with Medic as the door slid open.
—————
The battle was…not great, to say the least. Your head was clouded. You couldn’t think. Not with everything going through your mind. What did Heavy want to talk about? What if something goes terribly wrong in this battle because of me? What if it hurts Heavy? Am I overthinking this?
Pyro had brought you back to reality, waving a hand in your face. You looked up at your surroundings again to find that you’d been zoning out for around five minutes, protecting the intel after the enemy Scout tried to make a run with it.
“Oh, hey, Py.”
The Phoenix mumbled something you only vaguely got.
“Sorry. Didn’t realize how long I was just stuck thinking, heh.” You laughed nervously.
Heavy, Medic and Soldier came around the corner of the hallway you and Pyro were standing in.
“If (y/n) can assist us, we may get the intelligence.” Heavy stated simply.
“C’mon, cupcakes, do it for the honour of this platoon!” Soldier shouted in his usual manner.
You gave them a nod and beckoned Pyro to follow along.
The group managed to blow up, burn and slice the way through BLU’s base, knocking out their defences with ease. Scout joined the small crowd just before they hit the intel staircase, just in time to get ready to grab it.
The familiar beeps and sensor noises of 2 leveled up sentries echoed off the walls. You needed a plan. Medic seemed deep in thought for a moment, then spoke softly as to not draw the engineers’ attention.
“Heavy, (y/n), you go. Heavy can withstand the bullets long enough if I can über you.”
A quick glance at Heavy, and another at Medic to ensure that they were ready. You could feel the über running through your veins, and so you charged into the room, first destroying the sentries to protect Heavy from any further damage. Heavy’s minigun spun loudly as it took out the engineers and their teleporters with a rain of bullets.
Scout dashed in, giving each of you a half-salute and rushing right back up the staircase again. Soldier tried to chase after him to fend off the snipers that would surely have their crosshairs on his head.
Another moment passes, the übercharge slowing and a few seconds for you and Heavy to catch your breath. He let out a laugh, smiling ear to ear.
“That was amazing! I do not think we have ever gotten intelligence so fast!”
“Yeah!” You replied, trying to match his enthusiasm.
“We make good team. You are not so bad. A true fighter.”
Medic smiled over to the both you.
“Ja! Zhat vas amazing! Good job kamerades!”
Unfortunately, the celebration was soon interrupted. The sound of a spy decloaking could be heard from behind Medic. He let out a blood curdling scream as the sound of a knife drive into his back.
“Medic!” You both yelled in unison.
Heavy and you were quick to react, blasting your weapons in the direction of the spy.
The spy lay dead on the floor. Another moment of just catching your breath. Another moment for the spy’s deadringer to uncloak him, given a second chance to stab Heavy in the back this time.
“HEAVY!” You shouted.
The exclamation gave the spy enough time to work around your gunfire and finally stab you in the back.
———————
The familiar click. You were back in respawn once again. Heavy and Medic were there too, they both looked over at you.
“Stupid spies.”
“VICTORY.” Sounded in the administrator’s voice across the RED base.
Heavy unexpectedly lifted you into the air with a huge hug. “Very good!”
You were chuckling as he lifted you up. “Yeah! You all did great!” Heavy put you down and slapped a hand on your shoulder.
“Two wins in a row, I would say zhis calls for a small celebration?” Medic proposed.
“Sounds like a plan ta’ me.” Scout said, sniper, demo, Pyro, soldier and the others all returning to spawn to return their gear.
“Guess I’ll be makin’ a beer run!” Demo said.
———————
Everyone was back in the living space of the RED base once again, people hitting the showers, getting snacks, and everyone was completing their usual after-battle-routines.
Heavy came up to you after you both had put away your gear for the day. Your heart already started racing.
“Today was very good battle.” Heavy said positively.
“Yeah. That was good. And we finally managed to get their intel.” You said back.
A moment of awkward silence as you both stood.
“Heav—“
“I—“ you both started at the same time.
“Sorry, you first.” You said with a little laugh.
“Heavy…” he started, “Heavy wishes to, maybe…”
“Do you want to go on a date?” You finished for him, extremely fast, and looking at the ground to hide your blush.
“…yes. Very much.”
After another silent moment, Heavy took a step toward you. He raised one of his giant hands up to your face, and lifted it gently to look at him.
He seemed to also be subtly flushed as he looked at you with longing eyes. You shot the same look right back at him, lighting up from the kindness deep in his eyes. You carefully placed one of your hands on top of his and just stood there.
“HA! NICE ONE, (y/n)!!” Scout shouted from the other room.
——————
The eeennnd! Hope you enjoyed this installment! Reblog to spread my writing <3 and tysm for reading. Have an awesome day!
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the-disemvoweler · 2 months
Note
hey. i KNEW this was gonna happen. i’m TELLING you- look, i’m... i like everything, i’m a great cool. i feel a good, but you make me angry! rememb- ...no! you remember..? the first time we met... you wa- you walk in- i’m on my shift, and you come in, and you got a dick slip in your... in your HEV suit. and i tried- i tried to stop you... i tried to tell you! i was stopping you, i was going “hey. yo dick out”, but you didn’t- i was tryna be nice, and then, you were talkin’ to my friend, j- jefferemm, and you’re telling him like, “awwww i don’t have my passport BLEUH MNEEUGH” but, and... he was so upset, he has anger issues, i was gonna protect you from him, we were- i was gonna be NICE to you. remember that??? no! that’s just my job! i- i mean, if there’s a dick- if, y’know, someone’s dick out on the job, i gotta stop ‘em. but like... you don’t remember? no, no! like... the first time we met. what test? LISTEN, i had a whole thing planned at the end of my shift, me and my friend... gonna go home, we were so close to clocking out, and then you show up, dick out, ruining shit.. and we’re- we were gonna go... home, and play... ohigot playstation THREE, we’ve both got playstation plus, one month... and... i got Heavenly Sword... new game out. Heavenly Sword... is NOT a rip-off of God of War. hap- happu- uhhh- Heavenly Sword was going to be the new Halo for Sony. and it was gonna be GREAT. there was gonna... Heavenly Sword was gonna have DLC where you could have 60 people in one server! throwing fraaags... n’ shit. and you RUINED that! and now i have to... go ask everyone at my job, it’s embarassing to ask for a free month of playstation plus cuz i couldn’t go home and play with my friend. YOU KNOW HOW S- how sucks that is for me??? bro!? it’s REALLY annoying! and then i have to go home, and i- i load up Youtube Yownloader to look up Heavenly Sword videos cuz i can’t DO IT because you RUINED it cuz i couldn’t go to the GameStop and get it from my friend Josh who’s the cashier. YOU WALKED IN WITH YOUR DICK OUT and ruined the whole night! My friends are here. These are the people I met online on when I had Playstation Plus. SONY CEO JACK TRETTON SURVIVED a nuclear- a nuclear bomb! SONY CEO JACK TRETTON HIRED... a Nintendo CEO Reggie and they built a big... BOMB that was gonna go off... but I saved the WORLD! so i didn’t- i didn’t have a big plan! i was ‘sposed to be nice, but you forced me to be BAAAAD so i gonna be baaad. friend. the- the- the- the big plot is slowly unraveling before our eyes, look at this. BBB. BBBB. WELCOME. AAHGHK AHH BBB BBBFBMBF BBB
what
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nicoscheer · 5 months
Text
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Do you want to discover what bands @mileskane listens to while ironing his shirts? Then listen to this episode of the music podcast @kendedital with the nicest and funniest guy in the music business!
We had a blast! ���🏽
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"I'm willing to play anywhere. Even now, if I were offered a gig at the pub across the street, l'd take it. I simply love playing. If you asked, I'd play right this moment. I just love playing, I'm not arsed. It's what it's all about." X
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Miles when being asked about AM’s new sound:
mk: "you gotta respect it, you know, like, that's me bro, i'm always gonna have his back, you know what i mean? yeah and i respect for a big band to follow their gut. that's what al does and you gotta respect it whether you like it or not. it's kind of what all great artists do."
interviewer: "like it's cool that you kinda... you want to fucking do it so you do
mk: "yeah, man, that's me boy. if he wants to sing french or sing nigerian, i'm gonna have his back, you know what i mean?"
-
🫶🏽🫶🏽🥹🥹🥺my boys
Like I hate it that he’s always asked bout AM and TLSP cause he’s promotion his solo tour but this is 😘
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So you’re telling me they are literally promoting Miles and Liam djing with a Tlsp pic 😭😭🫠🥺
Imagine if Alex were you just casually show up behind that DJ booth
with his bosom friend Alex Turner
At Crammerock we saw him strolling backstage. We decided to put on our naughty shoes and ask him. He turned out to be very amable and he was immediately enthusiastic about our concept,
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So, you set out on your own
You shut up shop, you're leavin' home
You feel no need to settle down
In the crippled crook of your earth bound town
And you've been down this road before
Which is not to say you're bored
Or that you shouldn't want for more
It's just your expectations should be lower
There must be somethin' more than this
More than ideal homes or domestic bliss
What is there left for you to do
'Cause you've seen the future and it's nothin' new
And you've been down this road before
Which is not to say you're bored
Or that you shouldn't want for more
It's just your expectations should be lower, should be lower
And you've been down this road before
Which is not to say you're bored
Or that you shouldn't want for more
It's just your expectations should be lower, should be lower
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Apparently wasn’t happy with the text placement so had to repost it 🤣🤣🥹
His eyebrow slit and bear looking fucking clean
Also I hate everybody who lives close to Gent or Sheffield
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Miles last night with chef Tom brown and Jay Forrester at the opening of Tom’s new oyster bar (pearly queen shoreditch/ where Tom and friends repeatedly posted that the logo outside is the new bat signal 🤨y’know like miles guitarist said that the mirrorball is their bat signal) (also the fact that Tom reposted the pic of them via puppetspaces ig)
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The pictures of Miles with Tom and Jay
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So proud of him selling out within less than two hours
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Miles helping Tom with taste testing
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I love that as soon Chef Tom Brown is involved everybody starts using Miles’ music; here a custom knife made for TB using troubled son
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A nice recap of the opening night, the way Miles disappears in that hug with Tom is 🥹🥹🥹
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tinyboxxtink · 7 months
Text
"Summer Of '87" {Chapter 10}
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Tag List:
@gingertimelord
@witchwolflea
@loliakeoghan23
@fancytragedything
@eg-dr3amer3
@wanniiieeee
Hey hi hello!
Sorry these are slow, to be honest with you I jumped into this story with no set plot, so I'm winging it. So if you'd like to see this go somewhere, suggestions are welcome! I know there's gotta be some kind of catastrophic vent, i just don't know what yet.
Also forewarning:
The NEXT chapter will be very MA. SO, y'know, get ready for that.
Chapter 9
----------------
The next morning you woke up in Eddie’s arms. He had stripped down to his boxers due to the heat from your bodies,and his sweat stuck to your shoulder.
“Mmm, wake up baby,” you nudged him softly. “We gotta get downstairs before they start looking for us,” 
“Mmmmm, five more minutes,” he whined softly. 
“Alright, I’ll go fix us some coffee.” you chuckled as you changed into fresh clothes. 
Eddie turned to respond but saw you in your undergarments and let out a small gasp. 
“I’m up I’m up!” He sat up excitedly. 
“Oh lord,” you giggled while pulling your shirt on. “Tonight, baby. I promise,” 
“You’re so mean,” he pouted as there was a knock on the door.
“Eddie? Y/N?” Dustin’s voice called softly. “Please tell me you're dressed,” 
“See?!” you hissed as you tossed him his pants. “What would’ve happened if we were…y’know?!”
“No i don’t know because we haven’t done anything,” he teased as he stood up to go change in your bathroom. 
“You’re gonna get it later,” you threatened him with violence.
“Oh I hope so,” he grinned, taking it sexually. 
You flipped him a playful bird as he shut the door and you opened yours. 
“Hey!” you smiled brightly. “We’re good, just heading down actually!” 
“Cool,” Dustin sighed in relief. “Steve made breakfast,”
“He did what?!” you half laughed in disbelief as you both walked down the hall to the stairs. The smell of bacon began filling your nostrils as you headed down into the kitchen.
Steve was indeed flipping pancakes while Nancy was serving eggs and Jonathan poured the kids orange juice. All the kids sat at your huge dining room table; they all greeted you when you walked down. 
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind,” Steve gestured to his pan. “The kids were hungry, and you were so cool last night I wanted to make up for being a dick,” 
“Oh, you weren’t that bad,” you assured him as you took a seat at the bar. “But I appreciate the sentiment. I don’t think this kitchen has ever smelled this good,” 
“What?” he laughed. “You’re telling me mommy and daddy didn’t have a gourmet chef in here cooking you breakfast?”
“Steve,” Nancy nudged him. “You’re doing it again,” 
“My bad,” Steve made a face.
“It’s fine,” you waved your hand in dismissal. “And no, my parents wouldn’t ‘waste their money’ on something frivolous as a chef. Not when they had plenty of money to eat out,” 
“Wouldn’t that be more expensive than a…?” Robin started to ask. 
“I don’t bother trying to interpret my parent’s crazy, Robin,” you stopped her with a small, sad chuckle.
Eddie walked down soon after, causing greater greetings from the group. 
“Wow, Harrington,” Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re even more of a mom than I thought,” 
“Ha ha,”  Steve rolled his eyes. “And where have you been?”
“Nunya” Eddie stuck his tongue out. 
“Nice,” you rolled your eyes playfully.
“Hey!” he exclaimed. “That was a great comeback,” 
“Sure it was baby,” you kissed the tip of his nose.
“Baby?” Mike made a face. “So you guys are together?” he glanced at Dustin in protection. 
“I said it was okay,” Dustin assured him. “I think they’re cute,” 
“Oh like you and Suzie poo?” Erika asked while the others laughed. 
“Who is Suzie Poo?” You raised an eyebrow as you asked. 
“Dustin’s girlfriend,” Eddie grinned as Dustin turned red.
“A girlriend?!” you gasped. “Well, I think I’m gonna have to meet this girlfriend of yours,”
“Good luck,” he laughed. “She lives in Utah,” 
Utah?” you made a face. “Then how--?”
“Math camp,” Dustin answered before you finished. 
“Math camp?” you repeated, stifling a laugh.
Hey!” Dustin was even more offended. “Not even a day as my sister and you’re giving me shit?”
“Sister?” El asked, looking between you two. “She is your sister?” 
“Yeah, don’t you remember?” 
“But you said she is a lying sk--” 
“NO,” Mike slapped a hand over her mouth. “No, no we didn’t,” 
“Uh huh,” you crossed your arms. 
“Okay maybe we did, but we were only saying it for Dustin,”
“Riiiight,” you nodded, more than a little hurt.
“I’m sorry,” El said apologetically. “I do not like being cruel to people. Friends don’t lie,” 
“Uh…okay,” you nodded awkwardly, not really understanding her but took the apology. 
“ANYWAY,” Dustin spoke over the two of you. “We’re all friends now! And Y/N is my sister, so everyone’s happy. Right?” 
“Hell yeah!” Lucas smiled. “Now we can use the pool anytime!” 
“Anytime we ASK, Lucas.” Max corrected him. 
“Right,” Lucas mumbled while digging into his food that was now served.
“Well I can use it whenever I want,” Dustin beamed. 
“And if Dustin wants to have you guys over, just make sure you have an adult with you.” You informed them while getting coffee. 
“Adult?” WIll laughed. “Do you qualify any of our siblings to be ‘adults’?” 
“Hey I’m nobody’s sibling!” Steve protested. 
“Like it or not man, you’re their big brother.” Eddie slapped his back.
“More like babysitter,” Erika snickered.
“Alright, anyone over 18,” you clarified, trying to stop the arguing.
“So can we swim after breakfast?” El asked hopefully while wolfing down waffles.
“I mean, sure,” you shrugged while glancing at the “Adults”. “As long as your parents aren’t concerned…”
“Dude they LITERALLY never check on us,” Dustin laughed.
“He’s right,” Mike agreed. “We broke into a crazy science lab and helped El save the world without them even asking a question.”
“Wow,” you half laughed. “And I thought my parents were absent,” 
“So can we stay?” WIll smiled. You were amazed at how cheerful his demeanor was after all the shit that he went through.
“Sure,” you nodded as you finished your coffee. “I’ll just change into my suit,”
“Well, I need to go home and shower, I’ve got grown up things to do today,” Nancy shook her head as she looked for her purse.
“Grown up things?” you giggled. “It’s summer!” 
“I have a job, thank you.” Nancy acted more than offended. 
“She’s the editor at the Hawkins Gazette” Jonathan clarified. 
“Oh, sorry. That must be so esteemed,” you tried not rolling your eyes. 
“Whatever, we’ll see you later I’m sure,” Nancy rolled her own eyes as her and Jonathan walked out and to the door. 
“She’s a delight, really,” you chuckled as you refilled your coffee cup. 
“She just takes some getting used to,” Steve laughed himself. “Trust me, took me months to get her to go out with me,” 
“Yeah, I still don’t know how you put up with her,” you shook your head as the kids took off to the backyard. 
“Hey, Nancy is a badass,” Robin suddenly spoke up after entering the kitchen last.
“Where have you been, slacker?” Steve teased.
“I hate mornings,” she pouted as she went to get some coffee. 
“Well I should go see my uncle,” Eddie stretched out as he talked, revaealing a bit of his happy trail. You did your best not to blush.
“I didn’t see him last night, he’s probably worried,” he continued while taking your hands. “Unlike them my ‘parent’ actually gives a shit,” 
“Hey!” Robin hit him. “My mom’s concerned if I'm not home 10 minutes after my shift,” 
“Ouch,” you giggled. “I’d rather have a absent mom than an overbearing one,” 
“Tell me about it,” she sighed as she went to get dressed. “Twenty minutes dingus or I’m leaving without you!” 
“She means me,” Steve sighed as he put the dishes in the dishwasher.
“Yeah, I kinda got that,” you teased. “Esteemed career calling you too?” 
“Oh yeah,” he laughed sarcastically. “That video store would fall apart without me,” 
“Ooooh, Family Video?” your eyes lit up. “We should go rent a movie later!” 
“Please don’t,” Steve begged. “Munson likes to show up and fuck with me,” 
“It’s so easy, Harringto,” he chuckled. “I can’t help it,”
“Yeah yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes as he gathered his stuff. Soon Robin came down dressed as well, and they headed out.
“Well would ya look at that?” Eddie smirked while moving his mouth to your neck from behind you. “House all to ourselves,” 
“Eddie, the kids are outside,” You moaned softly. 
“Babe they’re almost taller than I am, I think they’ll be okay for a bit,”
“A bit?” you looked at him quizzically. “And how long is a bit?” 
“Long enough for us to take a shower…together,” he winked, making your face turn beet red. 
“Mmmm, that does sound tempting,” you sighed. 
“I promise to be quick,” his eyes flickered with mischief. 
“Not too quick though,” you stuck your tongue out as he raced you up the stairs. 
The kids would be fine for a bit, right?
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if you llke what you read, please considering buying me a Ko-Fi☕, it's the only source of income I have right now. https://ko-fi.com/tinyboxtink
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leclerced · 3 months
Note
do you ever feel like you just know you’re falling behind? like you know your friends are gonna achieve great and amazing things and you’re always gonna be two steps behind them, or you’re never gonna be better than them. because i’m sick and tired of being second best and always being compared especially to my friend who’s younger than me. being younger than me makes it feel all the worse
yeah. you just gotta remember that life is different for everyone, the best moment of someone else’s life is happening when you’re having your worst and vice versa. your friends are having moments that you’re missing out on right now, but you’ll experience them eventually.
and the people who compare you to others and make you feel less than, don’t deserve your time or energy. you know your friends will achieve great things because you believe in them and you have unwavering confidence that they’re going places in life. you need to have that confidence in yourself!!
i skipped college n went straight to working n my fam neverrr lets me forget it nd im like … so are you paying for it orr?? cause i cant afford that shit. meanwhile all of my friends graduated n went to school. i get sad ab it sometimes bc thats what i always wanted and it wasn’t really possible for me but thats not smth i can change. im ok w my life, i really do like my job. it’s cool, and i sometimes make merch for celebs humble brag. if you had asked me five years ago, what i thought i’d be doing today, i’d say i would be in my senior year of college getting ready to graduate, but clearly that didn’t happen. and i want to go eventually but its not in the cards rn. im not gonna stress ab things that are out of my control tbh and i know thats hard not to do but you honestly just have to remind yourself that you just lead different lives.
you got dealt a different hand than your friend, just means you have to learn to play the cards you have, y’know? enjoy the good parts of your life and don’t compare it to other’s because no matter who you are, you can always find someone who has a ‘better life’ than you do
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unsleepingtales · 2 months
Text
Fhjy e2 reactions this episode is batshit and I love them but also I’m so sad
I’ll be so real gang I am stressed and have been in a downwards thought spiral so we’ll see how this goes yeah?
I love Adaine making her mage hand look like Riz’s ringed hand that’s so fun and lovely
Also the mage hand mini is so cool
Don’t patronize me, it’s bad 😔
Goddamn they’re good
Would you be interested in healing us?? Spare healing o cleric??
I love that they could heal the hangvan
The night yorb’s art is SO cute I need a plushie of it. I’m gonna just buy galaxy patterned fleece and make one.
It feels like a stretch???
It’s gonna bite!
I just thought if I acted excited it would be good
Naur 💀
Armor of ayda!!!
Go sit on a whisky bottle you punk bitch !
Duggan and Balthazar definitely explored each others bodies we’re all agreed on this right. In my mind they had something like the cowboy and the roman soldier from night at the museum had.
“This is hot” Emily I agreeeee
Perfect example of gambler’s fallacy but y’know what this did just reinforce it
Nothing I can do! Brennan. Brennan come on.
That’s a feat I took in LIFE
They THREW that that die TRAVELLED
“You know I’m always rooting for you”
Oh GOD
No more probability smashing ok murph?
Y’know what for being fully run over by a van? 22 points of damage is not bad.
Was last episode really only two rounds of combat
He is So defeated
I’m hurting 😡
ALSO the portal is so cool. This battle set is amazing.
The blood on the windshield I can’t
Oooooof
Can she resummon Baby?? Has he died before I can’t remember?
“From when you ran me over” as if Fabian is not Solely responsible for the choices he’s made. Riz didn’t intentionally run you over babe you fell out of the van.
This is. Not great!
What hell!
Oh nooooo
Cmon Murph please
SHIT
Oh god
Oh my god you are about to kill your healer
She had 23!!
Aaaaaaaaa oh god
:( I feel bad for the cute manta ray
Ally’s gonna sue you if they hit you
With my wizarding powers and my absolutely fucked van ! Gorgug thistlespring the man that you are
OH SHIIIIIIT
Yessss
Ok yeah that makes sense that was on the bingo
Ok so the van now holds the night yorb sealed in its roof and an angel in the engine. Fantastic.
That mural is beautiful
They’re so exhausted guys. School starts tomorrow.
(What an episode to air the week I go back to class and have Such A Bad Time Guys)
Eeeeeeeeeesh
Don’t menace me!
It means something to me emotionally. Gorgug Car Guy Thistlespring <3
You wanted to do a bit so now we’re doing a bit. Suffer for your bit.
Does the back door of the van mini open?? Bc that’s sick
Ooooh Ally has custom spell cards with the d20 logo on them. Those are neat
He’s gonna stab these guys but it’s not with any of the normal zeal 😔
Jesus
Just to try and feel something
JESUS
Why do you guys careee you’re bugssss
Brennan.
Zac oh god
‘Guys I think Fig’s getting hit with the ballista right now’
She doesn’t even cutting words she just takes it 😭😭
It’s that era, The Ball 😭😭
Oh my fucking god
The noises of defeat they’re all making
I want an ice cream. Like the old days.
Just like that ART oh I’m gonna reblog that art of them at basrar’s so bloody after a fight
I love them. I missed the bad kids guys.
I think we’ve gotta go to sleep.
Wooooo
Love an aso callback
Love wins 💅
We’re done doing this!!
ARE YOU KIDDING ME
What kind of BULLSHIT
God this is so unhinged
No bonus action healing or anything Kristen?
Brennaaaaaan
So tactical. So late. So dead.
The slowest and saddest three point turn
The least enthusiastic stab
You didn’t! Have! To do it! You could! Have had! Ice cream! I! Want! To go! Home!!!
Oooooof
OOOOOF
That Turncoat 😢
This is so fucking sad.
What the fuck man
I don’t know why anything happened. Why did any of that happened.
The shard of the day yorb
Fig why would you ask that.
Riz desperately trying to keep the group together is so heartbreaking
The fucking dry guys
BY MEPHITS FOR MEPHITS
Gotta stay awake in the dome motherfuckers
Oh my GOD
They’re gonna cry man
Dome art!
Brennan what are you about to do
Daisy Cubby!!!!
Fig. What.
I’M gonna cry.
Everyone’s gonna cry.
Is it fun man. Is it really.
Map!!!
It says fuck you zac ☺️ in beautiful writing!
Emily Axford the woman you are……….
What the fuck is happening right now.
Oh god oh no
This is so horrifying
Kristen. Kristen No.
I love the map!
Oh god.
Oh the Hallariel art is FANTASTIC
Are they going on their honeymoon. I have paused the episode to write this are hallariel and Gilear going on a honeymoon did they get married and not invite their kids because they were saving the world I’m gonna be so pissed
Oh the Gilear art is cursed
Okay they’re going on a cruise.
Gilear’s voice has dropped
Oh SHIT okay so I wasn’t that far off
This is just. So fucking sad. I know that it’s gonna get happier because it’s fantasy high but right now this is so fucking sad
They’re newlyweds??? So they did fucking get married?????
Leaving for MONTHS after your only child gets back from saving the world and you got married to one of his best friends’ dad without your child or your new spouse’s child there is so horrible oh my god. I am real life mad about this.
Ok interesting things happening with Gilear and luck. Is Gilear not gonna go see Fig at Mordred before he leaves for a year???
Guys there is still almost an hour left in this episode is it all gonna be this fucking sad
Oh my god he inherited the singing barrel pirates
Good for them being unionized
Sklondaaaaaa
She’s got her own boarddddd
I love her
God they’re powerful this season
SKLONDA ART FUCKS
Oh thank god a loving mother.
It was… ssso tactical
That summer before junior year growth spurt/style shift combo is so real
Oh shit. The single mother struggling to pay for college storyline is gonna fuck me up monumentally I think. Fuck.
Scholarships are gonna be really important 🥲 line taken from my real life
Setting up a board is to riz gukgak what a spreadsheet is to me. I am him he is me.
Please god I need the thistlesprings to not make me sad
They’re so cute!!!!
Zac looks fucking near tears
Oh god any time Brennan’s face gets a little more serious and the music kicks in my heart just sinks
GORGUG AND ZELDA BROKE UP? 😭😭
That does not make any sort of sense
Staying tight with your ex’s parents is also so real lmaooo
He had a toothbrush at her house??????
The bad girls are so important to me
Awwwwwwwww
They’re aaaall crying
ZAYN THE RETURN OF ZAYN MY BEST FRIEND ZAYN DARKSHADOW
And Ragh and Lydia!! Yay!!
SANDRA LYNN FAETH THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE. I WOULD BE SO GOOD TO YOU YOU DONT’ EVEN KNOW.
Brb printing out the new Sandra Lynn art to hang on my wall
They’re so tired guys
Squeem is alive? Ok
Jawbone man.
Oh god. Literally.
Sobbing this is literally the high school mentality
Guys. Guys.
It’s a real crapshoot for me finishing things. Yep.
Babe that is not a measurement of classes.
Yes that is a thing you can do. You can take time off for extreme circumstances.
LOVE the Aguefort art. Slay.
Also love that the way Brennan gets into the Aguefort voice is to do the peace hands
He’s going on vacation with ayda?????
Ayda looks great
Oh God No
How could this possibly go wrong?
What is the quangle and why is it going to cause so many problems
Oh nooooooo
That’s so fucking sad christ alive
Oh god
Emily.
PEOPLE LOVE SKITS ON ALBUMS
“Does nobody respect the fact that it takes time to save the world” feels like the thesis of the season
Trackerbees breakup about to be confirmed??
ZAYN ART ZAYN ART ZAYN ART
Look at my best friend in the whole wide world and his pet rat. He’s so fucking pretty.
Aelwyn moved out??
Augh.
Oh that’s lovely actually
Oh aelwyn looks GOOD.
And she’s got cats and is teaching middle school??? Good for herrrr
Awww that’s sweet
Oh right somehow I completely forgot that Fig did a fucked up devil deal
Oh god fig’s spilling on her shirt. Did she somehow swap fates with Gilear or something.
Sandra lynnnnnnnn
That is a good way to think about classes :)
What??
Nooooooooooooo
Sometimes you really do just have to give Nothing constructive in an improv scene sometimes it’s better
Trackerbees breakup confirmed. Tracker’s doing great.
Still interested in the retcon or whatever happened with Tracker originally being a cleric of Lida and then switching to Galicea
Cassandra I’m sorry you and Kristen are both struggling so much
Oh Whatttt no
If Cassandra dies and goes to the astral plane I will be so sad.
Holy SHIT guys.
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youronlybean · 5 months
Note
Trick or treat! >:)
My favourite scene from chapter 2 of Home Sweet Safehouse :D
One relatively quiet afternoon, Ze was disturbed from his project brainstorming by music blaring loudly.
He wandered into the kitchen, where the sound of upbeat pop music was coming from. Ze thought the music was a little outdated, but Chilled seemed to be really feeling it. He was shaking his butt back and forth like that meme of the turtle under the faucet. His arms were doing some sort of wild circular motion whilst attempting to butter a slice of toast. It was… interesting, to say the least.
Ze cleared his throat. “Whatcha got there, Chilled?”
Chilled whipped around and pointed the butter-covered knife at him. The butter slowly slid off and hit the floor.
“Crappy speaker, iPod, and a need to move,” Chilled answered, placing the knife back down on the countertop. He grabbed a piece of kitchen paper from beside the sink and picked up the fallen butter, all while funkily shaking his limbs.
“Pfft,” Ze couldn’t repress a snort, watching as Chilled attempted to place the butter back in the fridge as he flailed around.
“Look, I know I’m not a great dancer, but sometimes you gotta feel the beat, man.” He took out a jar of jam that Ze didn’t know they had. As he began to spread the jam, the song playing ended switched to a rock song - Ze thought it might have been KISS or something, but he wasn’t sure.
“No, you’re doing great,” he snickered. A blob of jam went flying and Chilled spat out a curse as it landed on a cabinet.
“Try it, it’s therapeutic,” he suggested, once again moving to clean up his mess. He danced over and back and Ze struggled to repress his giggles.
“What you’re doing looks like torture,” he shook his head, snickering as Chilled executed a strange manoeuvre that ended with one of his arms bent uncomfortably behind his head and knocked his hat to the floor.
“Well I’m having fun, so there,” Chilled declared proudly. He re-donned his hat and continued on his quest for a jam sandwich as he jammed to the music.
Ze moved over to the coffee maker, fetching a mug from the cupboard. He turned the machine on and began to tap his fingers on the countertop as it churned out his drink, not unnoticed by Chilled, who was still grooving all around the kitchen.
“C’mon, Mr. Viking! You know you want to move it move it!” Chilled beckoned him forwards, and Ze shook his head as the last drops of coffee fell into the mug.
“I’m good,” he decided, taking a sip of hot coffee before deciding that he really ought to let it cool for a bit.
“Take my hand, I shall take thee away,” Chilled offered out his right hand.
“How romantic,” Ze noted, giving him a teasing sort of look.
“That’s- It’s not-” Chilled’s face, red as a tomato, shifted through a myriad of expressions - embarrassment, panic, and finally landing on determination, grabbing Ze’s hand and pulling him away from the coffee maker. “Y’know what? I’m the king of romance!”
Chilled, for a man almost twice Ze’s size, scurried with surprising speed over to where his phone and the speaker were. As Chilled fiddled around with the buttons, a slow song began to play, and Chilled headed back to Ze.
“Dance now, or else!” he declared, once again offering his hand. Ze found himself internally squirming, and wondering if it would be more awkward and embarrassing to accept or to decline.
Ignoring what felt like a pit of hot magma in his stomach, Ze took the hand on offer and was pulled closer. Chilled’s left hand found its way to Ze’s shoulder, and Ze’s right hand moved down to Chilled’s waist. Fortunately, they weren’t too close, so Ze managed to maintain coherent thought and attempted to follow Chilled’s footwork.
Or what was technically footwork, despite the terrible inaccuracies and wobbly stumbling.
For the first few minutes they drifted more-or-less smoothly across the kitchen, occasionally treading on each other’s toes and going one way when they should have been going the other. The dancing turned into more of a combat after a while, and Ze felt a strong sense of determination to win.
He knocked Chilled’s knee with his. Chilled aimed a small kick at his ankle. Ze steered them into the table. Chilled took long strides that Ze could barely follow. Ze attempted to trip him up and finally, Chilled dragged him down as well, all the way to the floor.
Ze muttered a curse as they hit the tile, making sure he didn’t land on Chilled despite the spontaneity of the fall. This resulted in him smacking a table leg with his forearm, which he was sure would bruise sooner or later.
Chilled let out a snicker, which soon evolved into hearty belly-laughs. As Ze sat up he watched Chilled wipe tears of laughter from his face and adjust his glasses. They locked eyes and Chilled barked out a laugh at the sight of Ze’s (still a bit startled) face.
“Oh, thank you,” he sighed eventually, face red from giggles and eyes wet with tears. “Thank you, Ze. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”
“That was- You had fun?” Ze blinked confusedly, wondering how Chilled had deemed such a disaster to be fun at all. “I mean, I'm glad… even if we fell.”
“Are you kidding? That was the best part! It was like something out of a movie!” Chilled’s arms flew up into the sky (happy muppet pose - Ze internally chuckled). He looked genuinely thrilled by the outcome and was still beaming like nothing could possibly be wrong in the world, cheeks still a rosy pink.
Now, Ze didn’t know a whole lot about Chilled to begin with, but one of the things he had learned through living with the guy for a bit was that Chilled loved movies. It felt almost like an honour, to be referred to as similar to something Chilled held quite dear to his heart.
Which sounded sickeningly sweet, and suddenly Ze felt like throwing up.
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uh oh, new teaser pages for Clementine Book Two, you know what that means
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It means someone has to talk about them... and that someone is me. 
We have an 11-page teaser, I’m going to go through them and give my thoughts just as I’ve done before. 
As a brief recap for Book One for those who didn’t read it or don’t remember- Clementine left Ericson and met a dude named Amos, and together they travelled to this ski lodge where these twins, Olivia and Georgia, need people to help build houses in the snow. Ricca’s also there, she’s Clementine’s love interest and her personality is she wears glasses. Things are great until Georgia decides murder is cool, so they gotta save Olivia from her and run away. They find a kitten, then take a plane that Olivia knows how to fly, so we last see her, Clementine, and Ricca escaping in said plane. 
That’s an extremely oversimplified version of the plot, if you want an in-depth review of Book One you can read my review here, but you just need to know that Clementine, Ricca, and Olivia escaped together, Amos and Georgia are dead, and they found a random kitten before taking off. 
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We have Clementine, Ricca, and Olivia walking together while playing a game of multiplication. No snow, the sun is high in the sky, and it doesn’t appear cold based on how they’re dressed. 
Something about this page bothered the hell out of me and I finally figured it out last night- 
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You thought I wouldn’t notice the dialogue change? Hmm? Well, joke’s on you! I did! This dialogue changed and I think that’s kinda funny. 
The second image there is from a little teaser Tillie posted on instagram a few months back and when she did, there were people who believed this was her throwing shade at the games which.... I still think that’s dumb. TWDG fans who hate Tillie will stretch literally anything if that means they can complain about her. I don’t know why this is different and really, it doesn’t matter. It’s one piece of dialogue I happened to notice had changed and it happened to be one that some fans got butthurt about so... do with that what you will. 
This first page looks pretty good as far as the art goes. Though I think it’s an interesting choice in how the bottom dialogue is laid out? Makes it look like the body and cooler are talking. 
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They spot a rabbit and we can see Clementine has the cat they found in a pack on her back. Ricca goes after the rabbit with her knife. 
I don’t know how Ricca thinks she can actually catch the rabbit with a knife and failing vision. You’d think Clementine would be like, “Hey, you know what we need? A bow. We should make a bow and some arrows. Surely we’re resourceful enough to make one.”
Y’know, because Clementine lived at Ericson where they had bows and that’s how they did a lot hunting. Remember Ericson, Clementine? The bows, the traps, the stews, the protective walls, sleeping in a comfortable bed, that one kid you raised, gee what was his name-?
Granted, they might not have the materials to build a functional bow, I’m just saying they should consider it. 
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....Ol? Anyone out there named Olivia, do people ever call you “Ol”? I feel like “Ollie” would flow off the tongue better? 
Anyway, Clementine has a lot of faith that Ricca’s going to catch that rabbit and they’re going to have a good meal, but Olivia? She’s big sad. Understandably so, her boyfriend was pushed off a mountain by her twin sister who she then left to die, and also her mom is dead so... I’d be pretty bummed, too. 
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Pfft, Olivia’s actually giving us some depth to her character, she’s in an emotionally exhausted and depressive state after what happened to Amos and Georgia.... meanwhile Ricca runs into a pole with a CLANG and all she can say is, “Crap,” as her glasses fall off. 
On one hand, I get it. On the other, I can’t help but be a little annoyed. I don’t like when a character who desperately needs development is having an emotional moment, they’re opening up to someone else, we’re getting a better look into who they are, we’re understanding how they’re feeling.... only to have it interrupted because... I dunno, Ricca ran into a pole, isn’t that funny? 
This happened with Clementine and Ricca in Book One. Ricca starts opening up to Clementine about her vision getting worse, and then Georgia rudely interrupted by pushing Amos to his death. 
Again, I get it, interruptions happen and we don’t want to dump every thing all at one, we gotta keep that pace flowing.  Fine, the pay off better be worth it, that’s all I’m saying. 
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I agree with Olivia- there’s no place in the world that will make me feel okay about Amos dying in Book One. He’s the best character in that book so of course he died.
Though we didn’t see a body and I’m holding out for a twist ending where Amos didn’t die and he comes back like, “You left me >:’[ and you rode in a plane without me!” c’mon, that’s villain backstory material.
...Watch Tillie bring Georgia back instead. I'll take that personally and it’ll be the crux of MY villain backstory. 
Anyway, Ricca’s run into a herd of walkers. 
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I quite like this page. I’d say visually it’s my favorite of the bunch. I like how the sky and buildings are drawn, our characters look good, and even though walkers look pretty good compared to how a lot of them were drawn in Book One. 
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Obligatory “gotta cover ourselves in walker guts,” scene. 
They drag a fallen walker into a cramped... uh some sort of building? And apparently Ricca can do math better when slathering herself in guts, so good for her. 
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Again, the walkers look pretty good, I’m impressed by the improvement. I also really like the visual of the flowers in the rain. Over all, I’d say the art has improved from Book One. I don’t know if Tillie’s just more comfortable and more in flow with the style that she’s worked out the issues from Book One or what, but it’s not as messy and I feel like I can actually tell what’s happening. 
I guess they’re eating acorns and dandelions, and we see an appearance from Dr. Barnwell, the cat in Clementine’s bag. 
By the way, I’m calling it now- that cat’s going to die. It’s an animal, the characters are attached, and what’s a cheap way to make someone feel something? Kill the cute animal. Need I remind you of Helen, Amos’ horse? 
Either the cat’s dying, or the cat’s getting a character killed. In fact, I’ll throw this prediction out here- of the three, Olivia’s the most likely to die in Book Two, I think she’s going to die because of the cat. 
The cat aside, Clementine’s leg isn’t doing too good. She’s in a lot of pain. 
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The visceral reaction I had to being reminded that Clementine named her leg Kenny put me in caveman mode, I almost started beating my fist against the wall while grunting disdainly. 
Why, oh why, did she name her leg Kenny? I must ask this once again. I know the answer is fanservice and Tillie likes Kenny as a character, but the in-world reason doesn’t work, I’m sorry, I don’t like it. 
What I do like is some character development, especially between love interests, which Clementine and Ricca supposedly are. 
Ricca’s concerned that Clementine’s pushing herself too hard and it’s making her leg worse. Clementine’s worried about Olivia, and she knows Ricca’s struggling with her vision.
Here’s the issue, and I think this page is the perfect example of this... I’ve played the games enough that if you showed me a screenshot from the game with dialogue subtitles, I could read them and hear Clementine’s voice. When I read Clementine’s dialogue here, I can’t for the life of me hear her voice. The way this is written isn’t accurate to how she talks. 
I know this medium is different, the way dialogue’s written in comics isn’t the same as game dialogue, but you can tell this is someone who hasn’t gotten her voice down. That’s frustrating because it’s Clementine. If you’re trying to market this to fans, which there is an argument to be made that this ISN’T targeted to fans of the games, then you’d think getting her voice down would be crucial but I don’t think we’re there yet. 
You have four games of source material and I think that’s a waste not to use.
Any fanfic writer can google the transcript to any of the games. You don’t even have to boot up the game, you can just find the transcripts-
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-and it’s all there. Any season, any episode. You can click through all the dialogue choices to see everything Clementine’s ever said. It’s a handy tool if you’re writing fanfiction for any character you may struggle to capture the voice of. Same thing with Youtube, there are plenty of videos showcasing every choice. 
These books are pretty much fanfiction. They just happen to by published by Skybound. I have to pay to read it, so I expect it to be a higher quality and that means an accurate voice for Clementine.... and yes, I know, I can be a little stinker and find means of reading it without paying but that’s beside the point. 
The point is I can easily go on ao3 and read fanfiction for free. I can look up fan comics for free. These books have yet to get Clementine’s character/voice down and they’re being sold in stores and that makes me a little salty. 
And I can’t even be that mad at Tillie knowing that this is her job and they have her on a short time schedule, she has other books she’s writing, she teaches, she does tours, and I dunno... I think she’s doing her best with a project she’s not familiar with. That’s the nicest way I can put it. She’s not a bad writer by any means, her other books are proof of that, which is why these Clementine books make no goddamn sense.
ANYWAY... what were we talking about? 
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Oh muh gawd, they held hands, that means they’re in love-
Okay, awkward flirting. How sweet. I guess. 
Too bad it’s interrupted YET AGAIN by something else... this time it’s Olivia getting caught by a couple of dudes. 
Before that, though, I do want to touch more on the romance here. 
I’m at the point where I can entertain the idea of Ricca as Clementine’s love interest/girlfriend. I can set Louis and Violet aside as if Clementine didn’t romance either of them, Ricca existing doesn’t take anything away from them, it’s okay. 
I’m hoping that there’s more of a focus on Ricca and her relationship to Clementine. It felt rushed in Book One, maybe we can slow down here and better set up the romance. 
I’m not still not on board, I can’t really say I’m rooting for them to finally kiss or be official. And I’ll be honest, it’ll take a lot to convince me. Unfortunately for Ricca, she has Louis and Violet to live up to, and I don’t she’s going to hit the mark. 
Also, can we stop comparing Ricca and Violet, especially now that Book One’s out and Book Two’s on the way? She’s not just Violet but with glasses, and Ricca’s vision isn’t the same thing as Violet losing hers. 
First of all, Violet only loses her sight if you don’t save her. Most who romance her also save her, so she doesn’t lose her vision in her full romance. Ricca wears glasses and her whole backstory is that her brother broke her glasses so that she had to rely on him for survival, then she found a bunch of glasses and ditched him, but now her vision is worsening to where the glasses no longer work like they should..... they’re not the same?? 
Also saying they’re the same is pretty insulting to Vi, sooo maybe stop that? Cool? Cool.
Hand holding aside, Olivia really did that self-fulfilling prophecy of “I’m gonna mess up your plan, Clem,” huh? She’s grabbed by these dudes outta nowhere-
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-and they want them to drop their weapons. Olivia doesn’t want Clem to hand over the hatchet since that’s all they have left of Tim... uh, Tim’s that guy who got bit saving Clementine in Book One. He knew the twins, it’s a whole thing. 
Also, is that Amos’ hat on Olivia’s head? That looks like his hat. Hmm.
I guess the question is who are these dudes? Are they just random guys? Are they from the community Clementine and friends are going to join? Are they from an enemy community of that community? I dunno. This is the last page we got. 
“You kids shouldn’t be walking here, it’s not safe.”
“Who said we were kids?”
I know we’re trying to make Clementine look badass but meh. 
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Overall thoughts... maybe I’m just feeling extra nice today, but it doesn’t look that bad. 
It’s still not good, but I feel an improvement over Book One as far as the art goes. The dialogue isn’t great, and I’ve already stated my issues with Clementine’s in particular. 
I can’t say I’m excited for this, but I’m not dreading it either. I’ve preordered it, it’s set to release in October of this year, I’m going to write an in-depth review of it so that y’all don’t have to read it yourselves. I’d love to hear any thoughts on this. I’ve gotta a few asks already that I’ll get around to answering, so feel free to send anything in. 
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lake-archive · 4 months
Text
Track 3
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Fandom: Hypnosis Mic
Series: Rap God O
Characters: Rosho Tsutsujimori, Sasara Nurude, Original Character (mentioned)
AO3 Link
Track 2 - Track List - Track 4
The time would come earlier than expected, something Rosho was not necessarily prepared for. To be honest he just wanted to work the stash of papers off, all the assignments to grade, tests to look over and checking if he had to switch something up for the next lessons. Honestly, all he wanted was to get work over with and then fall to bed. Another rapper? One he had never heard of? Not today, he didn’t have the time for that, nor the energy. But of course there was one person in question who would just show up at his home and not give the teacher any rest whatsoever. Honestly, it was getting old and at this rate Rosho should just throw the uninvited visitor out. Well, he did a few times but he always knew how to return, sometimes in the most unusual ways. So there was no other option but to endure it, as much as he didn’t want to at the time. He was just a little stressed… Or very. The life of a teacher wasn’t easy, especially at times like these… But alas, luck was never on his side.
Because the moment Rosho had opened the door he was greeted by a smiling guy sitting at his table, apparently having prepared himself some tea he was slurping while having seated himself, legs folded beneath his thighs. Usually it would be a position one could quickly grow uncomfortable in yet he seemed unbothered. Instead he was just drinking up his tea in peace, at least the last sip before placing the cup down to turn his head, coming face to face with the one who was actually living in this place.
“Haha, welcome home Rosho~” The guy greeted him. No hesitation, no regret, no regard for the situation whatsoever.
“For the last time, you’re not living here Sasara!” Rosho couldn’t help himself but raise his own voice at least a little. He was a lot to keep up with at times… Some things just never change, do they?
“Haha, don’t get yer pants in a twist. Your friend’s visitin’ ya!” Sasara instead decided to reply to this with the usual laughter, appearing to be in rather good spirits as always… At the very least he was as shameless as ever. 
Who wouldn’t sigh and drop their head in utter annoyance? Especially if it was such a common occurrence. “What do you want? Please make it quick…” 
“Someone’s cold today.”
“Am I now?” 
“Yeah, not cool bro!”
“I don’t have the energy for that  right now…”
“Right right. Gotta hurry before time grows some legs and starts running.”
Rosho only shook his head, deciding to place his bag down, take his shoes off and sit down at the opposite end of the table, right across Sasara. The quicker the better. He felt a little ti–
“Then I’ll cut to the chase… Ya heard of this solO act?” Sasara interrupted those thoughts however, suddenly making sure that the other man was wide awake. After all, given the weird emphasis, who wouldn’t pay attention? 
“Solo act?” He repeated, a little baffled. What was his friend heading at? Well…
“C’mon, I’m sure your students’re talkin’ ‘bout it too!”
“About what?”
“You heard of an O, didn’t you?”
There it was, the sudden drop of the name… ‘O’... “The mysterious rapper suddenly roaming the streets?”
“Yep, that one. Causing quite a cat–a–strophe I’ve heard.”
“Don’t you mean—” But a quick interruption from himself once realizing. “Nevermind… Why are you bringing him up all of a sudden?”
“Haha, it should be obvious y’know?”
“D… Don’t tell me—”
“Let’s face this O and see if he’s O–so great! If ya catch my drift.” 
“Y… You mean—”
Before knowing it Sasara got up from his seat, grabbing Rosho by the arm and forcing him to get up, or almost. “No time to waste! Onwards! To the frontlines!” He even announced. That guy… 
“Woha! Wait, we don’t even know where O could be! Let alone how he looks like! And besides—”
“How many people run ‘round with cat ears?”
“Cat ears?” This had to be a joke… That’s not what Rosho had heard from his students, not even close! Where’s that comedian pulling this from now!? Unless this was some type of joke again… With what punchline though?
“Yeah. Y’know, cats. Ya need a re–”
“Don’t! I know! But cat ears? I heard something of a… Long black coat…”
“Ooh. Looks like he ain’t that good at hide and seek then! Him not being found yet’s a joke on its own!”
“Wha—”
“Alright, enough talk. We’re going, now!”
“Wait now!? I didn’t even—”
“See it as a nice work out. ‘sides, I’m kinda curious. Aren’t you?”
“W… Well…” Even if Rosho were to say that he wasn’t, it was merely because he did not want to know. It was just… With everything piling up… 
“It’ll be over before you know it too! C’mon c’mon!”But he was not having a say anyway because before knowing it he was dragged out of his own home, right onto the streets. Looks like Sasara was serious about finding O, especially without much further explanation than that. Yeah, that is how this eventful afternoon started… But nothing could prepare the two of them for what was lying ahead… No, really. Not even Sasara was prepared for this.
Track 2 - Track List - Track 4
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cuuno-moved · 1 year
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It’s cold in the desert at night. Jimmy’s known this for a while now.
He pulls at the Arrow’s reins, and Tango makes a face at him, but Jimmy points up at the setting sun, and for him, that’s that.
“Why’re we stopping?” Tango asks.
“It’s gonna be cold in a minute. We won’t get back to the ranch in time, so it’s better to start up a fire here.” Jimmy points at a nice little cove surrounded by rocks. “We can set up over there.”
Jimmy leads Arrow over to the little area, and he can hear the clip-clop of Tango following behind. It’s not a great place to sleep, but Jimmy brought two sleeping bags, and there’s a pretty good rock for them to tie the horses to, and Jimmy has a flint and steel in his back pocket - so it’s not as though the whole thing is gonna be miserable.
Setting it all up is pretty quiet, with Tango tying up the horses and watching Jimmy start up a fire with dried bushes and his flint and steel. There’s a pretty sweet sound of awe from Tango when the fire really starts going, and Jimmy just blinks as Tango shoves his whole hand in.
“I’ve never seen anyone make a campfire without the proper supplies,” Tango says, voice quiet and impressed.
Jimmy grins. “Something you gotta learn when you’re the sheriff of Tumble Town. Maybe I can teach you when we get back?”
“That would be pretty cool,” Tango agrees. “Got anything fun for us to do before we konk out?”
Jimmy rummages through his pack and pulls out three bottles. “Two of water and one of whiskey, if that sounds like anythin’ up your alley!”
“Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah, I wouldn’t mind a drink.” Tango grabs a bottle at random, takes a sip, then gags. “Ah, I thought this one was gonna be water.”
Jimmy laughs. “Come on then, take one of the others!”
“Nah, nah, I can take it.” Tango puffs out his chest, laughter bubbling out of his lips. “I’m a big man, y’know?”
“For sure, for sure,” Jimmy agrees. “Hold on a second, let me see if I have anything else.” He shuffles through the pack again, then gasps. “Oh, hey! I thought I lost this!”
“Oh? Oh? What’s up?” Tango’s swapped out his whiskey bottle for water, which is good, because Jimmy was kinda scared Tango was gonna drink it all.
Jimmy pulls out his harmonica with flourish. “This guy’s been mine for a long time, but I guess I put it in this bag a while ago and forgot about it? I can’t actually play, but it was a gift, and-“ he chuckles. “A gift’s a gift, you know?”
“A gift’s a gift,” Tango agrees with faux solemnity. “Can I try it though? Is that okay?”
“Yeah, man!” Jimmy offers it over, and picks up the whiskey bottle for himself. “Play us a song!” He drumrolls on his knees, and Tango laughs sheepishly.
“I dunno if it’s gonna be that good. But uh- hey, I’ll try!” Tango brings the harmonica to his lips and tries a couple notes, just getting the feel for the thing. “Okay. Okay, I think I’ve got it. Any songs you know?”
Jimmy blanks. “Uh. I dunno. Cat? Is Cat a good disc?”
Tango nods. “Yeah, yeah, let’s do Cat! Uh, not the first part, cuz I don’t think I can switch notes that fast, but-“ He laughs nervously. “Uh, yeah!”
He hums the first bit to himself, all, “dun-dun-na, dun-dun-da,” and then when he’s gotten the feel of it, he starts to play.
It’s not good, is the thing. Jimmy has heard Oli before, and despite his nervousness about playing, he knows that Oli is a musician. Before he stumbles, his music is great!
So yeah. Jimmy knows what good sounds like, and he knows that Tango’s harmonica skills aren’t it. But there’s something heartfelt and personal in the way that Tango stumbles back and changes his mind on the note. In the way he laughs into the harmonica and turns it into a weird sound. He isn’t nervous, here. Just silly. And there’s something so endearing about it that Jimmy-
“Okay!” Tango laughs. “That’s enough of the worst version of Cat you’ve ever heard. I’m gonna try something else. Uhhhhhhhhhh, any other requests? Oh! Oh, wait, I want to try and see if I can-“ Tango starts playing around with noises again.
Jimmy leans forward, resting his head on his knees, and watches, taking slow sips from a bottle. It’s his waterbottle sometimes. It’s their shared whiskey sometimes.
“Okay, I think I got it. You’re obligated as my rancher to say that this is cool, if you recognize it,” Tango tells him. Then he brings the harmonica to his lips, and out comes the notes of their horn. It doesn’t sound just like it, obviously. It’s a harmonica, and Tango doesn’t know how to play it great, but it’s no less their horn.
“Tango!!” Jimmy gasps. “That’s so- that’s so cool- that’s so smart!”
Tango laughs, then dips into as close to a bow as he can while he’s sitting. “Thank you, thank you, I aim to please.”
He’s giggling again, then, and maybe it’s the little bits of whiskey through the night, or maybe he’s tired, or maybe this has been a long time coming, but Jimmy sighs, muffled by the hand pressed to his cheek, and says, “Can I kiss you?”
Tango stops laughing, but the fire that forever roars on his head sparks higher, and some part of Jimmy forgets to be embarrassed. Forgets to backtrack. Just takes in Tango being here, in his world, where there’s no fear of dying forever or of reds or of their ranch burning down again - they’re safe, and it changes so much about them, but it doesn’t change their… Whatever they have. It doesn’t change the way they feel.
“Uh,” Tango says, and he’s put a hand over his mouth, as if it’ll cover the blush on his cheeks. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you can.”
So Jimmy shuffles closer and tugs on the bandana around Tango’s neck - the one he lended him after they became team rancher all over again - and Tango leans in, and, well. You know what they say. There’s the smell of whiskey on his lips, and Jimmy thinks that maybe this is the touch he was looking for.
OUGHOUGHHGHGOIGHFHHHOGUUHH OGUHDSIDUHF
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