#the newest addition to my suitcase?
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Version 2.2 Trailer - Tristes Tropiques | Reverse: 1999
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Let's gooooooo!
#reverse 1999#mother?#critters?#the bingle?#the newest addition to my suitcase?#she will be#come home anjo!#Youtube
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Tradition - CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader
Word Count: 900+
Warning: tooth rooting fluff, honestly not even sure if Europeans do christmas cards, for the sake of this they don't.
Twelve Fic of Christmas - Christmas Card
A/N: this is inspired by my family because my mom stopped doing christmas cards when my brother broke up with his ex a year after she was in the christmas card
F1 Masterlist / Masterlist
Every year in your family there would be a tradition to send out Christmas cards to extended family. It started before you were even born. Your mom took the annual Christmas card seriously. It was just a way to show family you hardly saw how big everyone was getting. This year was a bit different. Every one of your siblings including you was in a happy long-term relationship. There was a rule that each couple needed to make it through two Christmases for the other half to be on the card. This year you and Charles would be spending 3 years together which meant he would make it onto the Christmas card, and with the newest addition to the family, Leo, everyone was excited.
The photoshoot would be taking place during the Vegas gp. It was easier for everyone to travel to Vegas, with everyone finally being in the same place after months of not seeing each other. Charles was more than happy to be included. His family never did the annual Christmas card tradition and he felt this was the final leg into being fully accepted into the family.
"What are we wearing? Mom wanted to do it in the desert right? It's still going to be cold so we have to wear something warm which is perfect because it'll be for Christmas." Charles mindlessly rambled while looking through the clothes he packed for the week in his suitcase. It was adorable about how seriously he was taking this. After years you gave up putting effort into the tradition. You just showed up in whatever your mom planned for the attire to be and smiled for the numerous photos.
"Charles baby, breathe for a second. There's no need to stress so much about this Christmas card."
"You're wrong. I have every reason to stress. This is the first time I'll be on the family Christmas card. What if Leo doesn't listen and just goes crazy?" He sighed looking over to the sleeping dog who was curled up in your lap. The dog was energetic no doubt but it was funny to see him stress over the currently sleeping dog.
"Look my mom loves you and adores Leo even more. If anything she'll be lenient with the both of you. All you have to do is show up and look pretty. Can you do that?"
"I certainly can." He smiled leaning down to land a kiss to your lips.
It was the next day that your mom dragged everyone to the desert. It was perfect since Ferrari needed to do a photo shoot to debut Charles's special helmet. To be in your mom's good graces he convinced the Ferrari photographer to also do the family Christmas Card. He was pulling out all the stops to make sure this went perfectly.
"Leo! My god." He couldn't help but sigh at the dog who just wanted to roam around pulling Charles in all different directions.
"Is everyone ready?" Your mother's voice brought your and Charles's attention away from Leo and onto her.
"Yup!"
"Okay so we are going to do a group photos, then the siblings, all the males then the females, and finally all the couples get their own."
"Is there enough room on the card for all of us?" You asked seeing as that was more than you all would usually take. To be fair there were more people this year.
"Ehh, there will be enough, don't you worry."
For the better part of half an hour that's what everyone did. Follow your mom's directions while the photographer snaps away. You hated to admit but you cared how this would turn out. If these pictures came out good there would be no doubt in your mind that your mother was going to hang it in the living room of their house.
"Okay, the little family now!" Your mom said pushing everyone else out of the way as she directed you, Charles, and Leo to have your moment. You two were the last to get a photo in.
"Leo, come on," Charles begged the dog to stay still for once making everyone laugh at the cute moment.
You were pretty sure the photographer snapped every movement you guys made. No doubt because it was Charles but you were glad to see the candids that would come out of it. Finally, Leo calmed down and you managed to get a few poses in before your mom called it a wrap. grabbing Leo in his arms so he wouldn't run around anymore he led you over to the car, happy with how the day went.
"I can't wait to see how it turns out." Charles excitedly said no doubt planning to make it his wallpaper. You wouldn't be surprised if he told the photographer to put a rush on it despite the hectic gp this weekend.
"This might be my favorite Christmas Card." You confessed. After so many years of thinking it was just mindless tradition, this time it was extra special. This time you got to show off your boys.
"Thank you for letting me be in it."
"Well, this just means you're stuck with me for the rest of your life."
"I'm perfectly fine with that." He smiled pulling you in for a kiss. No way he was going to mess this up. He loved this tradition and couldn't wait for you guys to do it once you expanded your family even more.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1
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Rumours
Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife
Chapter IV: Never Going Back Again 🎼 Masterlist
Summary: Aemond answers your performance of 'Dreams' by singing yet another newly composed song during rehearsal. This time, you can't contain the rage he elicits within you.
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, smut, hatesex, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, P in V, choking, degradation, manhandling
Word count: 4880 A/N: Thank you always to my love Justine, @theoneeyedprince for helping me by having a look at the edited version 🩵
Bringing Aemond’s old hoodie on tour feels like harbouring a shameful secret.
You’d felt weak enough when you spontaneously brought it with you when you moved out of your shared flat. And when you realised it was the only thing that could make you fall asleep any time anxiety weighed heavy on your chest.
So when you packed your suitcases to tour the Seven Kingdoms, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. But the shame of still needing it; still needing the memory of him, resulted in you storing it away somewhere no one would see it, least of all yourself.
Until you sought it out.
You wake up still curled on the side of the large bed, Aemond’s scent encompassing you.
How long will his smell linger on the fabric?
Soon, it’d disappear and you’d have no trace of him left.
You reach Winterfell the next day. Luckily, you’re allowed a small break before the next performance, leaving you some time to explore the city and rehearse with the band.
You spend your day sightseeing in the capital of the North; grabbing coffee with Helaena and window shopping around the bustling city centre.
Despite the quick friendship you had established after joining the band, your relationship with Helaena has become greatly strained following your separation from Aemond.
You know she hates the tension and the fighting. She has a habit of closing off and retreating whenever she feels uncomfortable, and having two band members in an infected conflict is not something she finds easy to navigate. You still love her like a sister, and you know Aemond holds her dear as well, so you try to spare her from it all, even if your attempts aren’t always successful.
“We’ll be late for the rehearsal if we don’t leave soon”, you tell her as she’s eyeing a pair of sparkly firefly hair clips. She nods absentmindedly in response and picks up the clips,
“I know, I know. Let me just get these”, she answers with a smile, heading towards the register.
Helaena pays for the newest addition to her endless collection of insect trinkets, and you leave for the venue you’ll be performing at in two days; Winterfell Arena.
This is going to be your biggest show yet.
When your management booked the arena you were scared of not selling enough tickets to justify such a large space. But you’d been pleasantly surprised by the interest shown in the North. The last tickets had just sold, and it would be your largest audience to date.
Entering the arena, you’re taken aback by its sheer size. You can’t believe you’ll be performing in a place like this, and to a sold-out crowd. You’re suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of nauseating anxiety. Will you be able to give them a worthy show?
Will you be good enough?
The constant self doubt that plagues your mind had been easier to handle when Aemond was by your side. He’d always been your biggest supporter; chasing away all your inner demons with his reassurance.
He always made you feel better.
Now, you were left alone and with nothing but doubt keeping you company. You miss having someone to soothe you by your side.
Miss having someone to confide in.
To rely on.
The stage’s larger than any you’d ever been on before. You try to shake the nerves taking over you, but it’s hard not to get overwhelmed by the size of the hall. It’s intimidatingly large.
You and Helaena begin to set up and prepare for tonight’s rehearsal, and Jace, Erryk and Aemond drop in one by one to join. You’d expected the latter to have his usual gorgeous companion on his arm, but he surprises you by showing up alone, five minutes after the time you’d all agreed upon and without saying a word.
It isn’t like him to show up late, and you can feel the stress radiating from him, though he stays quiet.
You know he’s been working on yet another song for the new album, and today he mentioned in the group chat that he’d like to play it for you during rehearsal.
He’d sent you the name; ‘Never Going Back Again’.
Is it about his relationship with his grandfather?
When Aemond told Otto Hightower that he wanted to quit working for him at Oldtown Solicitors in order to fully focus on his music career, his grandfather had nearly cut all ties to him.
In a particularly weak moment, he’d even given you a call, insinuating that you were a bad influence on his grandson,
“I let him entertain this silly band for the sake of Helaena and Aegon! I even let him do a minor in history at the university I financed. And yet, he meets you and suddenly wants to give that all up to record an album? Talk some sense into him, won’t you?”
Aemond had been furious when you told him about the call from Otto, making it clear to his grandfather that he’d never go back to working with him or in property law. He’d been prepped and groomed since birth; the perfect heir to carry on the Hightower legacy. Not as flaky or unreliable as his older siblings. Always the dutiful son.
Aemond moves across the stage to grab his bag, pulls out a water bottle and places a tablet on his tongue.
You realise he must’ve been late due to the pain of his eye injury flaring up again. Despite his recent awful behaviour, you can’t help but feel bad for him.
When you first started dating, you’d been scared of asking about his eye. Evidently, it was a sore subject, and you didn't want to pry. Eventually, he told you about the car accident he was in when he was 10.
He’d been in the backseat of the family's car with his nephews, engaging in a petty fight. As the driver tried to de-escalate the situation in the back, he lost control of the vehicle, crashing it into a large tree by the side of the road.
The only casualty from the crash was Aemond’s left eye. A piece of metal from the car had come loose during the crash and flung back through the window, creating a scar going from his forehead down to his cheek; robbing him of his vision and permanently causing him pain.
When you started dating, you made sure to learn his routine and preferences, to make it easier and less unbearable for him when the nerve damage caused intense pain to shoot through his head.
You still remember.
He likes the room cool. He always lies on top of the duvet on his back, letting the chill air sooth his aching skin. Unless you’re there. Then he used to lie on his stomach next to you; one armed wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You’d thread your fingers through his silky hair with the softest of touches, stroking his head until the pain killers drag him into slumber.
It had been in one of those moments that he’d first told you he loves you.
You look over at Aemond as he makes his way towards his guitar, picking it up and experimentally playing a few chords to check the volume.
Did he manage the pain by himself now?
Or did he lay his head on Alys’ chest, hugging her?
Does she run her fingers through his hair?
Does she let them trace the outlines of the beautiful sharpness of his face?
Over his cupid's bow, nose bridge, cheekbones?
Does he lay his head on her chest, letting the drum of her heart lull him to sleep?
Does he allow her to come as close?
You go through the set list, discussing the order of both your older and newer songs.
Jace, Helaena and Erryk all praise your performance of Dreams, asking you to perform it each night moving forward.
Helaena, standing next to her brother, leans towards him and mumbles, “Your back-up vocals really make the chorus shine”, while offering him a gentle smile.
Aemond replies with a hum and moves to stand by one of the microphones with his guitar in hand. His usual stoic yet quietly commanding self returns when he starts to play without any explanation or introduction, fingers plucking the strings with precision. He sings,
‘She broke down and let me in’
During recording, you’d briefly glanced at the words in the recording studio, huffing a laugh at his audacity. They definitely sting more on stage. Your face turns hot and you can’t decipher if it’s from humiliation or anger. Maybe both.
He really is a dick.
‘Made me see where I’ve been’
‘Been down one time’
‘Been down two times’
‘Never going back again’
Any sympathy you’d felt for him; any longing you’d felt for him, vanishes as he sings. Another song about you, this time in the form of the final nail in the coffin that is your marriage.
And he had the nerve to ask you not to perform Dreams anymore?
‘You don’t know what it means to win’
‘Come ‘round and see me again’
Back at the hotel room, rage makes your entire body feel hot and restless.
How fucking dare he?
Never going back again?
First, he’d sung about how you broke his heart and now, he paints you like you’re the plague; like a sickness to avoid.
All you want to do is call Alysanne and spew out all the pent up emotions storming inside of you.
You place your phone on the nightstand and roughly shove the charger inside, fingers tapping furiously to call Alysanne.
She doesn’t answer and you call her again. Still no answer.
You’re so restless you can’t sit down, irritation making your skin feel hot and hands tingly.
What if you asked him to not play the song? That’s what he’d asked of you.
Unable to stay still, you grab your key card and shove your feet into a pair of white hotel slippers, heading down to where you know Aemond’s hotel room is.
You reach the door and knock on it firmly while your feet shuffle from side to side impatiently.
You're not sure what you’ll tell him, the rage inside guiding you instead of your senses.
Aemond opens the door, face unreadable and eyebrows raised in question at your sudden visit. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of green joggers and your gaze briefly flickers down to take in his shirtless stature.
“Really? Never going back?”, you question and move in closer. The heavy hotel door shut behind you, and suddenly it’s only the two of you, in his room.
He neither answers nor moves, and you’re standing so close that your clothed chest bumps into his naked one. You crane your neck to look into his eyes. His stern demeanour doesn’t quite reach them, gaze softer than you’d imagined.
Anger still guides you, and a pathetically spiteful idea prompts you to slowly kneel before him, still standing impossibly close and eyes never straying away from his.
“Not even if I do this?”
Your face is level with his crotch as you look up at him. He’s always loved this sight; you at his mercy. But not now. Now he’s at yours.
You slowly lean forward and press your lips against the exposed skin of his torso, fleetingly kissing him right by his happy trail, just above the hem of his trousers.
You’ve missed the soft smoothness of his flesh; a tender veil over the hard muscles hiding underneath. So contradictingly beautiful.
Aemond stays unmoving, eyes staring at you with a scorching intensity. You know he won’t stop you. If he didn’t want this, he’d have let you know by now.
So you press another kiss right under his navel, and feel sickly delighted by the barely-there shiver vibrating from him.
Slowly, and with light kisses to his stomach, you reach for the hem of his joggers, letting your hands softly pull down the fabric and reveal his manhood. He’s already half hard, and you have to bite back a smile.
Never going back again? Yeah right.
Your eyes never leave his as your delicate kisses trail downward, towards his cock, yet never making direct contact with it.
His face still is as impassive as always, but he’s now grown so hard his tip is leaking precum, fuelling your actions.
You haven’t been this close to him in months and it almost feels intoxicating; his smell encircling you.
You want to see him lose control; you need to see him lose control. Need to hear him beg for you.
Plead for you.
Come for you.
You squeeze your things together at the thought, arousal making an ache drum between your legs. It’s an addictive thought; imagining him pleading for you. Begging for you. Needing you.
You want him to want you.
He still hasn’t moved, or said anything. You take his silence as an invitation to continue.
Want him to want you.
Still locking eyes, you slowly graze your lips over his skin until your mouth is by the base of his cock. You know he won’t give you the satisfaction of letting you in on what he’s feeling, but that’s alright.
You’ll force it out of him.
Your hand travels up his leg and moves to grip his cock, now so hard it’s aching to be touched. You work in long, firm strokes, just the way he likes.
The staring contest continues. You know his stoic appearance is meant to frighten you, but you know him too well. You can see the cracks appearing already.
Eager to push him further, you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue out, gently swiping it over his leaking tip to collect the glistening beads of precum. You feel the proof of his arousal on your tongue, and you see his gaze flicker down to observe it in your mouth as you unhurriedly close your mouth and swallow.
He stays silent, but you see his jaw twitch.
He likes it.
Growing bolder, you move your lips back to the tip of his cock, kissing it in a far too innocent manner before wrapping your lips around him and sucking firmly.
In the briefest of moments, his eyebrows knit together and he closes his eyes.
The satisfaction you feel at his clear arousal goes straight to the thrumming between your legs, and you briefly squeeze your thighs together. You move your mouth lower, placing feather-light kisses down his length before gently swiping your tongue over his balls.
You can hear the restraint in each laboured breath he huffs through his nose.
Your soft lips envelop one of his balls, and your hands continue to stroke his length. You know he loves this; loves when you get down on your knees and worship him.
You let your tongue massage every inch as it rests in your mouth, and when you let out a moan, pure theatrics to make him succumb to you, Aemond’s jaw goes slack and his lips part uncontrollably.
Just a little further and you’ll break him.
You’ll win.
Perhaps the look in your eyes let him in on your scheme.
Perhaps he’s too close to continue.
But when he grabs you by the hair and yanks you off of him, it takes you by surprise.
“About to cum, baby?”, you mockingly ask.
He clicks his tongue and grabs your forearms to pull you up so you're standing in front of him again.
Still not saying a word, he tries so hard to appear stoic, but you can see the storm brewing within him. A sudden push to your shoulders causes you to stumble backward and land on Aemond's soft hotel bed.
“Let’s see how fucking wet you get from sucking off the man you hate”
His voice is both calm and taunting at once. His hands come up to the sides of your leggings, pulling them down with force, taking your underwear with them.
You know you’re wet, but you really don’t want him to know that.
You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
You try to press your legs together, but one of his large hands finds its place on your mound and cups it perfectly as one of his fingers slides down between your folds to meet the silky wetness there. The fact that his hand seems to fit against you perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, amplifies your desire. And rage.
“Having my balls in your mouth made you that wet, huh? Still so dirty, baby”, he teases, emphasis on the pet name to match your previous mock.
You let out a yelp as his hand briefly leaves you to land a quick smack on your exposed clit. His cocksure expression flashes by before he grabs your hips again to place you on your stomach, bare ass receiving a smack as well.
He works quickly, sitting down next to you on the bed and pulling you towards him. He places your middle on his lap, and lets his hand come down to land another smack on your asscheek.
His hand stays on your soft skin, lingering a bit longer than you’d anticipated, before travelling down between your thighs to meet your neglected centre.
“You like that too, don’t you?”, he asks as he catches your clit between his fingers and press harshly.
It stings.
It feels good.
You press your lips together to prevent any sounds from escaping, racking your brain for a way to gain back control.
Aemond’s fingers begin to draw firm circles and your mind starts to feel foggy from want. Without thinking, your hips begin to move in tandem with his fingers. He chuckles.
“I know you inside out”, he triumphs, but as you move your hips, you can feel how achingly hard he is beneath you.
You know him too.
You pull away from his lap, sitting back on your haunches on the bed, and remove your cardigan, then your tank top, and finally your bra.
You manage to startle Aemond by your sudden move, and you seize your chance at dominance by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down, so he lies on his back on the plush, white sheets of the hotel bed.
You straddle him, and move one hand down to pull down his sweatpants once again. Revealing his cock, you encircle him softly before placing his length between your folds, dragging your wetness all over him. You bite back a moan as his cock pushes on your clit again and again, hips move back and forward.
Aemond seems lost for words as well, undoubtedly enjoying you moving against him.
His seeing eye flickers wildly to take in your naked body, damaged eye not able to keep up with the rapid movements. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. You momentarily feel mesmerised by his beauty.
The realisation that you’ve missed seeing him like this, missed being with him like this, pierces your heart painfully and your hips still.
You don’t want to think about the sadness inside. You want to break him. Like he broke you.
Up until now, it’s been a constant fight for dominance; a never-ending back and forth. But you got him now.
“Beg me to fuck you”, you command, voice slightly out of breath. Aemond’s eyes are fixed on your heaving, naked chest.
“What?”, he questions, like he doesn’t understand what you’re asking.
“Beg”, you repeat, voice more demanding as your breathing calms,
“Beg me to fuck you, Aemond”
Though confusion had briefly flashed over his face, it’s now set in fury.
His eyes narrow.
Without answering you, he places one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist, manhandling your body down on his cock in one swift motion. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, much to Aemond’s satisfaction. He grins victoriously.
Fuck, it’s been so long.
He begins bucking up into you in an instance. The firm hold he has on your body feels bruising, and his fingers dig into your flesh meanly so that you won’t move.
He angles his hips, and each stroke touches your sweet spot. You bite down on your lip to hinder the moans that are fighting to escape. He’s essentially fucking you on his cock, and it feels so good you can’t think clearly anymore.
“Come on, I know you can’t keep quiet”
He pushes your body down harder, bucking his hips up faster. You can’t help but move with him, it feels so fucking good.
You’re still not going to come. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s gonna come.
You clench down on his length each time he slides in and you see the tension in his jaw; the vein bulging out at the side of his neck.
Maybe if you push him just a little bit further?
“Oh, Aemond”, you moan as you throw your head back, tightening your muscles again, gripping him like a vice.
He’s always loved getting praised.
The hand he’d placed on your shoulder moves to your throat, engulfing the entirety of it. His fingers press down on the sides,
“Shut up”
His grip tightens. The movement of your hips begin to falter as the restricted blood flow to your head amplifies your pleasure. You bite your lip harder not to moan.
He knows exactly how to get you.
He continues to fuck up into your dripping cunt, ignoring your change in pace. Each stroke of his cock within your walls feels like pure ecstasy; like sparks of sheer pleasure shooting through your body.
His expression is infuriatingly smug and you realise you must look completely blissed out as he uses your body.
You feel the familiar tightening in your lower stomach, the sign that your peak is approaching rapidly.
No no no, he can’t win!
You pull away from the grip he has on you, abruptly getting off him, internally mourning the pleasure you rob yourself of.
He needs to come. He needs to break first.
You sit next to where he’s lying on his back, hand moving down so that you can work his length again.
Aemond catches on to your scheme quickly and uses his strength to push you away, manhandling you so your face’s down in the mattress and ass exposed.
He pulls on one cheek, admiring your wet and wanting centre. When he shoves back inside with an exaggerated tut, you can’t take it anymore; the pleasure’s just too much.
His touch feels too good, no matter how harsh it is.
You try to push your face as far as possible into the bed, hoping Aemond can’t hear the moans you can’t contain any longer.
The loud smacks of his hips against your backside and the lewd, wet sounds coming from your cunt fill the room.
It’s so aggressively erotic.
One of his hands finds your clit and as he starts massaging it with vigour, his other hand moves towards your head.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back so you are facing him. The grip hurts; like a thousand little needles assaulting your scalp.
“You’re gonna come, I know it. Don’t you fucking dare not look me in the eye when you do”
You’re stuck in his painful grip, yet your orgasm’s racing towards you, making you clench down on his length and moan louder and louder, no longer able to hide the effect he has on you.
The hand in your hair moves down to grab your breast roughly, nipple pinched between his fingers. You find it hard to keep your body up as pleasure makes it feel like you're floating, but Aemond’s arms around you makes it impossible for you to move. His face moves to press against yours; cheek to cheek,
“When you sing your silly little songs about what a player I am, remember that no one else can make you feel as good as I do”
And you’re gone. The orgasm hits you so hard you almost black out. It makes your entire body jerk uncontrollably, and if Aemond hadn’t been holding you, you’d be on the floor.
He keeps fucking your through your orgasm, breathing heavily and grunting at the intense way your walls contract around him.
As the movements of his hips turn sloppy and frantic, you feel his face move to press between your shoulder blades, arms still holding you tightly, like he’s hugging you from behind.
Or trying to crush you.
You can’t decide which.
You stay like that for a few moments. The room is quiet, save for your shared heavy breathing. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity between the two of you and feel too exposed, regret storming inside you like in icy waves.
Shit, what have you done?
Aemond loosens his grip around you and lowers you down on the bed much gentler than how he’d touched you before.
You stay on your stomach, burying your face in the bed as you feel Aemond shuffle behind you, softly tracing a hand down your back before getting up and making his way towards the adjacent bathroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Hearing him turn on the faucet, you quickly get up from the bed.
You have to get out before he comes back.
You frantically look for your clothes, scattered all over the hotel room floor. Trying to be as quick as you can be feels impossible when your legs still feel far wobbly, and your mind way too fuzzy, to cooperate.
You hear Aemond turn off the faucet as you pull on your leggings and underwear. You can’t find your bra, and you don’t even bother looking for it before pulling on your tank top and cardigan hurriedly.
You just need to get away.
Away from Aemond.
You step into your slippers and dart out the front door as you hear him emerge from the bathroom.
Not patient enough to wait for the elevator, you head towards the emergency exit and climb the two stories up to your room.
As soon as you're inside, you toss the hotel card key on the desk by the window and throw yourself on the bed, body jolting from the force.
You want to cry.
You want to scream.
You want to go to sleep and realise this was all just a fucked up dream.
You reach for your phone on the nightstand, now fully charged and with a few messages from Alysanne, asking you how you are and if you’d gone to the cafe she’d recommended by Winterfell Central Station.
You press her name and the small telephone icon, hoping she’ll pick up.
“Hi honey, you okay?”, she answers, voice evidently concerned from your sudden call.
You usually stick to texting, or pre-scheduled face-time dates.
“I fucked up”, you say, barely above a whisper. You hope that she’ll know what happened without you actually having to say the words. You don’t want to speak it into existence.
“Did you kill him?”, she jokes and you let out a hollow laugh.
“Worse”, you say, and Alysanne sighs on the other end.
“Was it good?”, she asks after a long pause, making you let out another snort.
“What do I do now, Aly? I was just going to push him a little and now-”
“That’s your problem. You always want to get a reaction out of him. What happened to just focusing on yourself?”
Her words feel patronising, like you’re being scolded by your parents. Yet you know she is right. You stay silent and mentally search for a reply; any excuse for your behaviour.
“Yeah”, you sigh in resignation.
You know you fucked up; that you’ve acted childish and petty. Still, the satisfied afterglow of experiencing the best orgasm you’ve had in months leaves you feeling a bit less anxious.
Alysanne tries to distract you by asking about Winterfell, the tour, and what you’re planning on wearing for the big show tomorrow.
It feels good to talk to a friend without holding anything back. Even if you appreciate Helaena’s company immensely, you know she’s being pulled between you and Aemond, and you’d rather not add to her suffering.
As Aly tells you about the guy she went on a date with last night, your phone buzzes.
You briefly glance at your screen, ready to swipe the notification away, when you notice it’s an email from your solicitors office.
You say a quick goodbye to Aly, open the email and quickly scan through the overly formal text. Your eyes flicker over the screen, taking in what’s written.
…finalised…
…shared assets…
There’s a PDF at the bottom of the email. You click on it, seeing the document you’d left for Aemond in your flat over three months ago. The empty space you’d left next to your hurried signature is now filled in, reading;
Aemond Targaryen.
A/N: Thank you for reading 🫶 If you wonder about if he signed the papers right after she left his hotel room; it’s a pdf with his signature, I imagine he actually signed it before leaving for the tour and it just reached her solicitors now.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen imagines#aemond fanfiction#aemond x you#aemond targaryen x you#rumours#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen angst#modern aemond
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drinks or coffee



lovestruck!oikawa x f!reader
summary: oikawa only wanted one more night with iwaizumi before heading off to argentina. to celebrate his new job as an athletic trainer. but turns out the party is for two people, iwa and someone else…
contents: sickening fluff | time skip!oikawa | kawa is feeling things… | idk… | red string of fate trope |
word count: 1.1k
masterlist | part 2
iwaizumi scoffed softly. “i don’t really want you there but… i guess you can…”
tonight, his new job at the jva was hosting a little something for their newest additions - two bright, freshly-hired athletic trainers. naturally, Oikawa had whined and moaned his way into coming as iwaizumi’s so-called guest of honor.
“you’re my snuggle pookie bear. you won’t regret it!” oikawa had chirped with a grin. these were his last few nights in japan before heading off to argentina. not that he was complaining - playing as their official setter was a dream. but spending one more night with his best friend? that sounded a lot more comforting at this very moment.
he heard iwaizumi groan, strained, and fed up. “i’m already regretting it… and you will not steal my spotlight tonight.”
oikawa scoffed faintly as he stuffed his final sweater into his suitcase. “i would never… how can you think so low of me, iwa?”
before he could finish his dramatic sigh, iwaizumi cut him off. “because you’re the worst.”
rolling his eyes, oikawa muttered, “anyway, iwa, pick me up tonight and i’ll be the hottest date there.”
“i hate you, shittykawa…” iwaizumi grumbled and hung up the phone, leaving oikawa pouting on the floor of his half-empty room. he looked around slowly - this might really be the last time he saw it like this. everything felt too quiet. too final. he let out a soft sigh and zipped up his suitcase.
that was it - his life in japan would end in the next 48 hours.
after what felt like days, his phone buzzed with a message from iwaizumi: ‘come down… you have 10 seconds…’
of course, oikawa ran faster than sonic straight to the car.
“this is NOT how you treat your da—”
“i will run over your foot right now.” iwaizumi snapped.
oikawa yelped and slipped into the passenger seat without another word. “thank you for inviting me, iwa. that’s very kind of you,” he said softly, fumbling with his seatbelt.
“so you know, mattsun and makki synced,” he said after a beat of silence, breaking the tension.
iwaizumi raised a brow. “those two?”
“yeah. it was only a matter of time… so what about you, my friend?” oikawa asked curiously, eyes drifting to his own red string - nearly faded away. that damn string. that faded red color kept him up st night.
“i cut my string. i don’t have time for that. my career matters more,” iwaizumi said bluntly, eyes locked on the road.
oikawa had always believed in soulmates. in the red string of fate. but he was never one to fall in love at first sight. he liked attention, sure, but it would be nice - really nice - to spoil someone special. even so, with him leaving for argentina in about 48 hours, falling in love now would be downright stupid.
the car fell silent again, and stayed that way until they pulled up to the restaurant.
“well, well, look at you. they rented out a whole restaurant in your honor?” oikawa teased.
“it’s not just for me. they hired someone else too. and you will be on your best behavior,” owaizumi warned, eyes narrowing.
oikawa raised his arms in mock surrender. “alright, i will…”
but it only took about 30 minutes for boredom to catch up with him. he scanned the room, hoping for something - anything - fun to do. just a moment to poke fun at iwaizumi. but his best friend was stuck talking to stuffy old men. oikawa groaned under his breath and played with the ice in his drink.
“i am so sorry we’re late!!”
the soft voice made him lift his head.
and then he saw you - rushing in with cat boy and owl boy. not that he cared to remembered their names. all he saw was you.
“yn, kuroo, and bokuto - good to see you,” iwaizumi greeted you and you smiled. a smile so bright it nearly blinded Oikawa.
before the conversation could go anywhere, one of the stuffy old men called you and your friends over. oikawa took advantage of that moment and rushed to iwaizumi’s side.
“iwa! who is that?” he tugged on his string, eyes wide. for a split second, he swore… swore… that the pigment had returned - it was dark red for a couple of seconds.
iwaizumi didn’t even look at him. “shittykawa, can this not be about you?”
“please, it’s important,” oikawa groaned. “just tell me her name.”
he must’ve looked truly pathetic, because iwaizumi caved. “fine. that’s yn. we’ll be working together.”
yn… yn…
yeah, that name just rolled right off the tongue.
“yn?” he repeated softly.
“yes, and that’s all you’re getting. you should be worrying about argentina. you don’t have time for a silly crush… especially not if that person isn’t even the one.” iwaizumi glanced at oikawa’s almost invisible string.
of course, iwaizumi knew oikawa wanted to fall in love. but he also knew that argentina was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. throwing that away for someone who might not even be fated to him? too risky. too stupid.
“tooru, be realistic. come on, i’ll drive you home so you can finish packing.”
oikawa nodded, though iwaizumi didn’t know - he was already done packing. he’d be returning to an empty room. a small bed. just him and his thoughts.
thoughts of you.
the girl he’d probably never see again. the girl he was already creating “what if” scenarios for. the girl he’d affectionately nicknamed as ‘the one who slipped away’. when he will talk about you to others.
as he followed iwaizumi out, he couldn't help to steal one last glance at you, for the one final time. you were laughing at something cat boy said. and it sent shivers down his spine. in the best way possible.
“let’s go…” iwaizumi called out. oikawa said his first and final silent goodbye to you.
the drive back was filled with iwaizumi’s usual lectures. unfortunately, oikawa tuned all of it out. which that would piss iwaizumi off, of course - but it was worth it. his mind was too full of you.
he wondered what kind of person you were. what you liked. what you hated. and most importantly, who was at the end of your string.
but what got his mind and heart racing was the moment he saw you - and his string seemed to darken. just a bit.
who are you, exactly?
“get out,” iwaizumi barked, snapping oikawa back to reality. they were parked at his home.
“oh. thanks, iwa…” oikawa muttered.
iwaizumi grunted and waved him off, speeding off as soon as oikawa closed the door.
left alone with his thoughts, oikawa went to his room and sat on the floor, reaching for an old volleyball. wondering what your first date will look like.
“i wonder if she prefers getting drinks or coffee?”
AN: say thank you to the rosé, the knicks, and the yankees… also for my starlight is causing me stress and stomach pains…
divider credit: @/saradika-graphics
@porty || do not plagiarise or translate any of my work. I do not own any of the Haikyuu characters all rights goes to Haruichi Furudate.
#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa tooru#oikawa x you#oikawa x reader#haikyuu#haikyuu imagines#hq oikawa#oikawa fluff#oikawa toru x reader#oikawa imagines#drabble#oikawa drabbles#haikyuu drabbles#hq x reader#hq fluff#hq x you#iwaizumi hajime#hq iwaizumi#haikyuu iwaizumi
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chapter 1 - 1942
It was June of 1942 when Cecilia met Elvis. The little girl was five and the sassy southern boy was seven.
It all happened by accident, one moment leading to the other. Pandora and Cecilia Martin were the newest addition to the neighborhood, though with wary glances their way. Heavy suitcases balanced on top of each other as a small hand tried to grasp at her mama's skirt.
"Cece, get the door, darling.", her mother instructed her, though the kid looked at the door and glanced back at her mama.
"Can't I hold the suitcases?", Cecilia suggested, making Pandora shake her head.
"Take the key, baby and open the door c'mon.", she had no other choice, but to obey. With the key in her hand and a last look at her mama struggling with all the weight of the suitcases, Cecilia struggled to get the key to fit in the lock.
"Mama, it don't fit.", she complained as she tried once again. Pandora's eyes glanced at her daughter.
"Try again."
"It don't work.", the little kid was legitimately playing with anxiety. The pressure of her mother's eyes on her and the key not seeming to work.
"Try again, sweetie, don't make me drop all them suitcases now.", Cecilia's shaky hand holding the key didn't seem to make the situation any better. Exasperated, Pandora moved closer, leaning most of her body weight on the door as she tried to balance the suitcases on one hand. "Give me the key, baby.", though before little Cecilia could even process her words, the door snapped open. Pandora hit the ground and one of the suitcases landed on Cece's foot. The little girl yelped at the pain and looked up at the reason that caused her mama to fall and get hurt.
A dark haired woman stood in front of her, who let out a small gasp at the sight. "Oh, sweetie, here let me help.", she moved the suitcases aside and helped Pandora up, who was blushing furiously.
"I'm so sorry—"
"Oh, nonsense, c'mon in. All them houses look the same, don't they? C'mon in darlin'.", she motioned to Cecilia, who was also slowly turning red. Her small eyes looked up at her mama, who cleared her throat and took her daughter's hand.
"We don't really wanna bother you, Mrs..."
"Oh silly me! It's Mrs Presley, but please call me Gladys. Come in.", the woman pulled them inside and grasped Pandora's arm, showing them the way to the living room.
"I'm Pandora Martin and this is my daughter Cecilia.", she let out a deep breath, already feeling welcomed by Gladys' warm presence. They made themselves comfortable on the couch and watched the sweet woman disappear in the kitchen. Cece fiddled with her hands in her lap and looked up at Pandora.
"We almost broke in someone's house, right mama?", she innocently questioned, making her mother sigh and dryly chuckle.
"We almost did, baby, yeah."
"Hey mama, them suitcases ain't mine, I swear.", a young voice called, making Cece sit up. Could it be a trace of a possible friend?
"I know, Booby, we got guests. Please bring them in the hallway."
"Sure mama.", and the little boy listened and moved the suitcases inside. He walked to the kitchen and noticed a small smile on his mama's face. He loved seeing her genuinely happy. "Who are the guests, mama?"
"You'll see, Booby. Now, go wash your hands and come back to greet everyone properly.", Gladys told him as she set some cookies and coffee on a tray. She carried them out and placed them on the table, smiling at the little girl.
"I know I seem a lil' pushy, but that's how we are here.", Gladys laughed a little and sat on the couch, facing Pandora, who smiled sweetly at her.
"I'm loving the warm welcome, Gladys. Actually, we are, aren't we little darling?", Pandora tickled Cece's side, making the little girl blush.
"How old are you, darling?"
"I'm five.", Cece showed her palm to Gladys, who gaped at her.
"I have a son, who's seven, sweetie. He must be here somewhere— ELVIS!", Gladys called for her little boy, who ran in the living room.
"I'm right here mama.", he mumbled under his breath and walked towards his mother, standing beside her armchair.
"Greet the guests, Booby.", yet again he mumbled another 'mama' under his breath as his pale cheeks started turning pink at his mama's nickname.
"My name is Elvis.", the little boy had caught Cece's attention. Shaky feet, messy chestnut hair and bright blue eyes. He resembled a cartoon character. If not a superhero. A young one, but nevertheless one with mighty superpowers.
Pandora smiled at the boy and looked at Cece, who was hiding her face in her mother's arm. She gently caressed her hair and brought a finger under her chin. "Why don't you tell Elvis your name, darling? I'm sure he's excited to know.", the little girl opened one of her eyes and caught a look of Elvis huffing at tapping his foot. Gladys smacked his arm, glaring at him.
"Okay.", she murmured and sat up, though not making eye contact with the boy. "My name is Cece."
"What kind of name is Cece?"
"Alright. Elvis take Cece out in the backyard, won't ya? Bring the cookies with ya and get to know each other.", Gladys handed him the tray of cookies and looked expectedly at her son, who was only able to reluctantly nod his head in response. Pandora whispered some words of encouragement to her daughter, who also unwillingly stood up and moved toward Elvis. She looked up at him and wordlessly followed him in the backyard, while the two mothers talked to each other.
The backyard wasn't particularly big, but the grass was surely as green as ever in that hot summer. But what really made little Cecilia's eyes shine, was the poorly built treehouse in the corner.
"You built this?", she couldn't help but ask. Elvis looked at her from his shoulder and followed her eye line. Her tone dripped with admiration and amazement, something he hadn't heard in a good while. Her words were by no means a compliment, but they sounded like it.
He cleared his throat. "I did. My daddy helped me a little.", he admitted and looked at the tree once again. "Would you like to go up there?"
Her eyes lit up as she furiously nodded at his offer. "Yes, please."
"Alright, you go up first, I'll pass ya the cookies and then I'll climb.", Elvis quickly explained to her, yet as he looked her way, her tiny foot was already on the ladder. Once she was safely up there, she extended her arms to grasp the tray and let Elvis up as well. Now they were both settled, small hands grasping at cookie crumbs and curious eyes wandering around the tiny house.
"You did a good job.", Cece complimented him, making him look away.
"So... your name is Cece?", she turned to look at him.
"My name is Cecilia Flora Martin.", he nodded at her words.
"My name is Elvis Aaron Presley."
"I don't know why you were so worried, sweetheart, I feel like we've known each other for years.", Gladys laughed sipping her coffee. Pandora smiled, agreeing with her.
"I'm worried Cecilia ain't gonna like it here...", she sighed. "You know with the moving and- and her dad's absence... She's gonna start fresh with the school here, so there's that at least.", Pandora's words were fumbled as she tried to avert the focus on the mention of her ex-husband. Though Gladys, as curious as she was, she needed to ask in order to understand and support her as a new neighbor and friend.
"Sorry for snooping, darling, but you said dad's absence? He ain't in the picture no more...?"
Pandora pursed her lips and opted for a sip of coffee. "He, uhm, he left us. For another family.", Gladys couldn't believe her ears.
"That son of a—"
"Cece don't know that though. I just told her he had to leave and I, uhm, don't even know how to explain something as complicated as this to someone as young as her.", Pandora's eyes filled up with tears. She blinked desperately trying to get rid of them before Gladys could notice. But who could she fool.
"Oh, darling.", Gladys stood up and sat down beside her, offering her a side hug, which Pandora gladly accepted. "When the time comes I'm sure you'll know. Cecilia is a bright lil' lady, I'm sure she'll understand. Stop stressing yourself, sugar.", she wiped away her tears with her thumb. "It'll be okay."
"It'll be okay."
"I wanna be a singer someday.", Elvis let Cece know as she munched on another cookie. The two kids had spent three hours together and it felt like they belonged there together, in that hot summer weather in the little poorly-made tree house.
The little girl's eyes lit up. "Me too!", she exclaimed, making him laugh. "I-I wanna play the guitar a-and sing a-and dance! Though mama says I should do something serious.", her revelation made his heart break a little, since that was what he kept hearing as well.
"We could sing together! We could— We could be a duo!", Elvis couldn't hold back his excitement as he had just found someone who shared his same dream and passion for music. Though that someone being five years old.
"What's a duo?"
He sighed. "When two people sing together. We could both sing and play the guitar o-or the piano.", the burst of happiness was back nonetheless. "Are you sure you wanna sing, Cece? Because that's serious."
Cece looked at him and pointed a cookie at his face. "It was me who said that first. Whadya think?", and she took a bite.
"But.", worry overtook the excitement for a second. "Would you wanna sing with me? Like in a duo?"
"Yes!", she extended her arms in the air, emphasizing her excitement. Relief fell over him as he smiled.
"What should our name be?"
"Elvis and Cece."
"No, that's too simple.", Elvis rejected her first suggestion.
"Cecee. With two "e" s at the end. Because the last one stands for your E."
"Too complicated."
"The two friends!"
"Okay, let's think of the names later...", Elvis quickly dismissed the topic. "Can you play the guitar?"
"I'm five.", she rolled her eyes. "Though my daddy bought me a guitar before he left. Mama's gonna teach me how to play."
"Where'd your daddy go?", Cece shrugged at his question. "I don't know. Mama said he had to leave."
Elvis looked down. "My daddy is in jail. I don't know when he'll come back.", he revealed, making her pout.
"I'm sorry, Elvis.", silence engulfed the two kids. The air wasn't hot anymore, no, it was tingly, full of lingering dreams and hope. He was pleasantly surprised with the maturity of her five-year old self. She wanted to be a singer, playing the guitar, while dancing. He wasn't crazy for wanting that in his life. Maybe he had found a person that finally understood him.
Maybe he had finally found a friend.
"Cece! We're going home!"
"Comin'!", the little girl set the cookie down and before she could set foot on the ladder, she turned to Elvis.
"Are we friends?"
Her little hand was outstretched as her question lingered in the air. Elvis looked at her and smiled, shaking her hand.
"We are.", he confirmed.
He had finally found a friend.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter xx
index chapter 2
#imagine#elvis 2022#elvis x reader#elvis presley#fanfiction#elvis presley fanfiction#the presleys#elvis presley x reader
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Regret Me is coming back??? I'm so excited!😭
I’m so glad you’re excited!! I’m literally buzzing that I’ve finally found the time to sit down and bring these two back. I’ve missed them all!
Here’s a lil sneak peek of 1975, the newest addition to Regret Me that should be out in the next few days!!
“Are you sure you can’t come now?” Harry mumbles against YN’s lips, “I can squeeze you into my suitcase.”
YN laughs, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips, “I can’t come now, you know that. I’ve got rehearsals for the next three weeks and then I’m coming.”
Harry groans and drops his head down to her neck, pressing kisses to her skin as he squeezes her. He had been like this for the past week, ever since the seven-day countdown started. YN loved how much Harry loved her and wanted to be with her, but he also knew that she needed to stay back in Los Angeles for a little while for rehearsals for her own tour that was starting in a month or so. Before she did kick off her tour though, she was going to fly out and spend a week with Harry on his, so at least they had that to look forward to. Harry understood that this was necessary for the both of them, but that wasn’t going to stop him from missing her, and it wasn’t going to stop YN from missing him.
Harry would be busy on his tour, one which has broken records with ticket sales that YN didn’t know could exist and she was so proud of him. She would be busy with rehearsals, and sorting out everything for her tour and it would be good. At this point, they had spent so much time together that YN thought Harry would be happy to have a break from her, but it seemed as though it was the complete opposite. She was hoping that spending a week together before they were both thrown into their tours at full force would at least make the time apart slightly easier.
“I know, I know,” He mumbles into her neck, finally pulling his head away so that she can look at him again, “I’m going to miss you so much, baby.”
“I’m going to miss you too, you know that,” YN mumbles against his lips, “But it’s only going to be for three weeks and then I’ll be with you.”
YN placed another kiss on his lips, running her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck one last time for a few months. She was going to miss him more than anything. Whilst YN was ready for it, she knew that it was going to be different with her support system gone. She had a different support system to focus on now – and that was her music.
“Harry, it’s time,” It was Jeff that called his name from behind her, and Harry groaned immediately.
Harry dropped his head to her shoulder again, and she wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him even closer to her if that was possible.
“I love you so much,” YN mumbled against his neck, feeling as though she wanted to cry but she wasn’t going to let herself.
“I love you too,” He pulled back and placed one more kiss on her lips, “I’ll see you soon.”
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Click Read More for the first half of Chapter 1 of Order Up, my Green Eggs and Ham The Second Serving rewrite! It’s long, so be warned lol. Also feel free to check out the full chapter when its inevitably released on Ao3!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48472795/chapters/122267893
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Sam looked at the framed photo on his wall of himself, Guy and Mr. Jenkins. He smiled as he put it into his suitcase as gently as possible. His mind began to wander as he collected his items. How was he going to introduce himself? This wasn’t like meeting a stranger, this was his mother; maybe he should practice an introduction. He shoved his luggage into his suitcase, spare red hats and loose bruckles jingled inside before he turned to his mirror.
“I’ve gotta have just the right opening line.” He said pondering his reflection, should he try his default act, goofy and personable? “‘Sup, Mom!” His heart wasn’t really in the words so he let out a chuckle to try and sell it more. “Or do you prefer Mom I-Am? Or Mrs. Mom? Or the Mother Formerly Known As Mom?” Who was he trying to fool, no one was even here. He let out a sigh “No..just be yourself.” For some reason that had become harder to do then putting on this act.
“Hi, Mom I…” he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking, he felt so nervous and he wasn’t even talking to his mother. He took off his hat- he should be polite right? He fixed his fur before looking back at the mirror, why did he feel the need to avoid eye contact with his own reflection? “I…am Sam.” He paused. “No, that's still not right.” He put his hat back on, adjusting the brim back to its proper spot. “Sam…I-am. It’s nice to finally meet you” Sam spoke, outstretching his hand to the mirror. He felt like he was about to start crying. He was so close to meeting her, so close to finally getting to ask why she left him, so close to actually having a real family. The thought almost pushed him to tears, he wasn’t sure if it was from happiness or sadness, regardless he wasn’t ready to break down now. “Put that hand away Samual I-Amual!” He said in a jokey impression of an older woman. “Where I come from Mom’s hug their sons.” His response to emotions has usually been to push them back down with some sort of humor, he didn’t have the time to waste on being sad about past events. He hugged the mirror, trying to get some comfort and imagining his mother hugging him back was at least doing something to keep his emotions from spilling out.
Guy had just come in from grabbing the mail, shuffling through the letters. All bills. He let out a sigh, he was glad that Flerz took over SnerzCo so he and Michellee had at least one source of reliable income until the shop was built. If Michellee lost her job after the Snerz fiasco they’d be in the red for sure, and he’d have to give up inventing for who knows how long. Guy glanced over at Michellee with a soft smile, he was glad that she still found some free time to paint even with her job, she was amazing at it, but he couldn’t help but notice her newest piece was a family portrait. Seeing him, Michelle and E.B. all together like a picture perfect family made his stomach feel weird, he couldn’t tell if it was butterflies or if it was twisting into knots, maybe both? He thought about really settling down with Michellee for a moment, it sounded nice, ideal even, but something about it just seemed scary to jump into. Guy chalked this up to it just being too early to consider. Yeah- that had to be it, it’d only been 5 months, there’s still plenty of time to get used to this.
He made his way to the living room, preparing to settle this new addition to the pile of bills on the coffee table. As he walked over he caught the tail end of a news segment. It seemed like two nations are going further into an ongoing conflict, something about a highly dangerous substance being stolen and they’re just blaming each other. He was never one to be interested in the news, especially segments that could easily get him overthinking and this seemed like one of them. He changed the channel to the next channel over, some basic sitcom, just for some background noise.
“I can’t believe Sam is going all the way to East—“ Michellee said while continuing to paint, before she was quickly interrupted by her daughter E.B. causing Guy to jump in surprise and drop the bill notices he had in his hands.
“I wanna go!” Said the child resting her arms on the larger stack Guy was choosing to ignore for now.
“You don’t even know where he’s going.” He replied, picking up his dropped notices.
“Don't-care-it's-not-here-take-me-there!”
“E.B., look—“
“Oh, come on. Summer vacation is so boring.” E.B. spoke in an overly dramatic manner clearly trying to get her way by prying.
“And, Mom, ever since Meepville, you’ve made huge strides in supporting my life of thrill seeking adventure!” Oh so she was going for Michellee now, man does she know how to play dirty. Guy could see it on her face, it was hard for her to say no to her only child.
“Well, yes, I’ve..uh..definitely made real…progress there.” Michellee was stuttering, she gripped her brush tight from the unexpected stress causing her to mess up Guy’s smile on the portrait and break her brush. She let out a small nervous chuckle before she walked over to her partner for support. “Well, what do you think, Guy?”
“Believe me I’d love to go on another adventure with Sam as much as E.B. would. But look at this stack of bills.” He explained, gesturing to the large pile of papers cluttering the coffee table. “First months rent on the new invention shop, bamboo for the pandog, Sam's subscription for the Egg of the Month Club…Okay I’m canceling that one, he only eats green!” Almost as if he was summoned by speaking his name, Sam burst into the room.
“Ding dong! Doorbells broken!” That overly energetic voice yelled out holding the severed remains of the house's doorbell in one of his paws; Seuss, was he trying to annoy him on purpose? He swore he heard that monotonous laugh track say an excited “Sam!!” With cheering and clapping to boot, Guy quickly turned off the T.V. he had to be serious and gentle right now. No annoying distractions.
“Operation Find My Mom begins…” Sam was doing energetic handsprings, almost seemingly bending gravity to his will as the suitcase was spinning quickly in the air before dropping to the ground upright. ��now! Because me and my best bud are on our way to East Flubria. Right, Guy?” It hurt Guy to see Sam this excited when he knew he’d have to shut down his offer; it also hurt to be pulled off the couch by the wrist.
“Actually Sam, I can’t.” Guy spoke in his gentlest voice. Sam gasped. Then he gasped again…and one more time, it was like when Sam spotted the briefcase all over again. “Whew, Sorry, I just realized I forgot our toothbrush. By the way did you say something? I kinda zoned out for a second.” Guy looked down at Sam with a soft expression, he wondered if Sam did hear him but just didn’t want to acknowledge it. Fine. He’d repeat it slower. “I. Can’t. Go. With. You.” Sam's expression fell, he stared at Guy with the most pathetic, sad look on his face. “And I can’t go without you! You’re my best friend Guy. I need you! So, I’m going to go for broke here and give it one last shot. Will you come to East Flubria with me? ” Sam said, holding his paws to his chest and clasping them tight together, he was begging Guy to go.
Yip, that hit Guy in the heartstrings, it felt very…real, as real as when they were in his treehouse back in Stovepipe, and Sam was never really like that. He turned towards Michellee, she looked concerned, she clearly didn’t want him to go. Of course, it has to come between his girlfriend and his best friend, just his luck. Guy let out a soft sigh before giving a gentle yet firm “No.”
Why’d he think he could just say no to Sam I-Am and it’d just be over and done with? He should’ve learned his lesson by now ever since those stupid eggs. Sam was showing up everywhere, in his mailbox, at the construction site of the Inventionarium, the back of his car, you name it. Guy couldn’t say yes, he had a child to help provide for now and this shop would make financial woes a thing of the past. He wondered why Sam didn’t just go without him, he didn’t really need Guy that much did he? After the zillionth no he really needed to explain why, Sam wasn’t going to get the big picture otherwise.
“I’m sorry Sam, but I just can’t go with you. I’m starting a new business. I have new responsibilities. You know what opening up this shop could mean for me and Michellee.” Sam saw that expression on Guy’s face, how gently he was trying to put this. He wasn’t trying to hurt Sam on purpose. Guy just had his own life now, and that meant not being able to see Sam whenever he wanted. Guy seemed so happy with Michellee. Without him, it made his heart ache all the same. He wanted Guy to be there with him when he met his mother since Guy was the closest thing he’s had to a family in his entire life, but who was Sam to pull Guy away from his source of happiness and family? He’d be no better than his own mother for ditching him.
“You’re right. Your family needs you, Guy. Just like mine needs me! So I’m going to find my mom and do for the I-Am’s what you’ve done for the Am-I’s.” Sam swore he saw Guy wince a little when he referred to Michellee and E.B. as his family. He shook the observation away and began walking out of the Inventionarium with Am-I’s. As he walked out he saw that a huge crowd had gathered and it thrilled Sam to see Guy’s shock turn to happiness; he was finally getting the recognition he deserved. “I should’ve known this shop would be your destiny. This place is gonna be huge!” Sam said with a small chuckle seeing Guy sheepishly wave at the excited crowd. “And look! Not one of your inventions has spontaneously exploded!” With a click the sign flipped to zero, the sign reading “0 Days Until Grand Opening”.
Then almost as if Sam had jinxed it, Guy heard a loud ‘BOOM’ behind him and suddenly he and the entire crowd were shoved forward. It was like a nuke went off, a mushroom cloud of smoke came from the shop and Guy could feel the ground quake beneath his feet, cracking the pavement and flipping the nearby cars. He swore you would have felt the ground shake from Meepville. By the time it was over Guy and the crowd could hear ringing in their ears as they peeled themselves from the pavement, a rumbling settling in their bones. Guy turned towards where his shop once stood but now only a pile of rubble and ash was left.
Guy was speechless, what cruel creator would allow him such joy for just a brief moment, thinking he’d finally done it, he’d finally done something with his life, before pulling the rug from underneath him and leaving him lower then where he started. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream, to pound the ground and ask why? But all he could let out was a shaky and defeated, “My shop…my inventions..”
Guy could hear tires squealing towards the wreckage. This was it. He was going to jail for life. He just destroyed the entire yipping town so it made sense. As he raised his paws in preparation to be shackled, he saw Gluntz step out of the vehicle and jump over the hood. “Guy! I heard about what happened and I want you to know, I will find the person who did this to you.” Of course, Gluntz wasn’t really the type who would catch on that this was just the latest failure of Guy Am-I. “Thanks Gluntz…but it was me.” Gluntz just kept on looking around making binoculars with her hands. Seuss she’s worse than Sam, how was that even possible? “I swear on my life the wretched monster responsible for this atrocity will pay! Oh, that cow looks suspicious. I’m gonna go and interrogate it.” Then off she went laughing, reverse hood flipping and speeding off to a lone hill with a single cow just…munching on grass.
This ridiculous series of events did nothing to even slightly raise his mood, if anything it just dampered it more. “Guy, I’m so sorry. I know what this meant to you.” Michellee walked over to him and gently grabbed his paws, he could barely bring himself to look into her eyes he kept glancing up at her with his shoulders slumped, he felt so embarrassed. Why’d he think that he’d ever be able to do something like this? Of course he’d mess it up; just like he always did.
Michellee glanced over at Sam, his face had a subtle hint of shock and sadness on it as he stared at Guy, not a single trace of his usual over exaggerated facial expressions. She turned her gaze back towards her partner with a gentle stare and gave one of his paws a soft squeeze. “Guy…you should go with Sam.”
Guy looked up at his girlfriend with a perplexed expression, Sam doing the same. “What? No. I can’t. I have to rebuild the shop.” He pulled away from Michelle and turned to the now ruined building, balling his paw into a fist in frustration and anger as he looked at it. “Besides, I’m responsible for every smashed window and tipped over car in town right now.” He let out a harsh sigh as he rested his face in his palm. “I must have a stack of U.Owe.Me’s a zillometer tall.”
“Guy..” Michellee spoke in the softest tone she could, she hated seeing him like this. It only showed every now and then but it’d never been this extreme before. The only time he ever seemed remotely happy was around his best friend. “I mean it…you need rest. It’d be good for you to get away…have some fun.” She said as she looked up at her partner's sulky expression, gently grabbing his free hand. Guy seemed to be considering her request, he’d been extremely stressed out lately, money was short and the shop was eating up so much of their finances. Maybe it’d be good to just…relax. Yeah…that sounded nice. Sam perked up a little as he saw a small tired smile grow on Guy’s face.
“You’re sure Michellee? I hate to think this will just be another responsibility to push on you when I leave. Wouldn’t you at least like to come with us?” Michellee waved this notion off. “Nonsense, it’ll take them at least a week to clear all of this wreckage. We’ll deal with this together when you get back. Plus I’ve still got work silly, and your job is uh…” she looked back at the rubble “currently a pile of rocks- we’ll need the money to fix all this up, so I’ll stay behind. You just need to focus on recharging.” Michellee smiled as she gave another soft squeeze to Guy’s hand.
Guy turned his head to Sam, his smile growing a little seeing how excited he seemed to be. He really wore his heart on his face. Just as Guy was about to open his mouth, E.B. cut him to the chase, although her voice was muffled. “I can come too!” Guy looked down and saw Sam's briefcase wobbling a little bit. Sam quickly caught on and opened it, causing E.B. to roll out from the luggage.
“Alright, it’s not what it looks like!”
“Really? Cus it looks like you were stowing away in my suitcase.” Sam said as he looked at E.B.
“Alright, it is what it looks like, but the point is; I’m coming with you guys!” She exclaimed, raising her arms up as she approached her mother and Guy.
Michellee let out an exasperated sigh, this girl just never gave up. “Young lady, we've discussed this.” She said in the sternest voice she could muster. She hadn’t pulled it out for awhile. “And we’ve discussed you being more fun.” Yeowch, E.B.’s tone was sweet but it cut deep. Guy could see on Michellee’s face the hurt from that comment, he felt tempted to butt in, to say that she had really learned to let loose a little and that E.B. was taking this too far just for her own gain.
E.B. looked up at her mother with an excited smile, her eyes filled with a lust for adventure and the unknown. Michellee took a soft sigh, it reminded her so much of herself at E.B.’s age. Always wanting to try something new and do the next best thing. Her torn expression shifted into a smile as she crouched down to her daughter's level. “You know what…I trust you. You can go, just…just be sure you stay safe, try not to do anything that’d make me too worried.” she said to the youngster with a playful pinch to her pudgy cheeks resulting in a slightly annoyed “mooom” but ended it with a giggle and a tight hug with her mother.
Guy smiled back towards Sam who was practically seething with excitement. “Alright Sam, we’re in.” Guy could see Sam jumping with enthusiasm. “Sklergagenatpak! That’s East Flubrian for ‘I do not speak East Flubrian but I’ll do my best to respect and acclimate to their local customs and culture.’” Guy chuckled at this, Seuss he’s such a dork. This thought screeched to a halt as he felt Sam grab his hand and start pulling him along, E.B. catching up behind them. “C’mon! You guys gotta go pack, don’t worry about the tickets, it's on me!” Guy pulled his hand away but kept walking. “Sam I know where my house is, you don’t need to pull me there.” This just made Sam flash him a big smile. “I know, just wanted to hold your hand for a sec.” He then gave a mischievous finger gun and a wink, clicking his tongue against his teeth. Even though it seemed to just be a joke, it didn’t stop Guy's face suddenly feeling all flushed and hot.
It took Sam almost 3 days to find a cold air blimp to East-Flubria on such short notice, but it at least gave the Am-I’s time to pack all their essentials. Before he even knew it he was standing in front of the ramp to get onto the blimp. It felt like he got some sort of mental whiplash just standing there, frozen in his own mind and body. This was really it. No more imagining what could be, he was going to experience it. He was snapped out of this train of thought as he heard Guy talking to Michellee.
“Be careful with my baby.” She said, sounding strained.
“I promise.” As Guy said this, he rested his hands on Michellee’s shoulders for a moment before suddenly being pulled into a tight and unexpected hug. Guy froze for a moment before slowly hugging back, not squeezing nearly as tight as Michellee was. “Guy, c’mon! The blimp’s going to leave soon!” E.B. shouted from the platform, causing Sam to realize he’d just been staring at the couple.
Guy and E.B. waved goodbye to Michellee, her smile wide as she waved back. Sam took the liberty of finding their seats across from a yellow, well dressed man who was reading from a newspaper. Sam put his luggage on top of the seat, seeing E.B. and Guy walk up the aisle and plop their suitcases next to his.
“Sam you hungry? We’re going to get something to eat farther up the blimp.” Guy spoke, staring back at him. To be honest Sam wasn’t feeling hungry (for once in his life.) His stomach felt like it was tied in a zillion knots. “Nah, I’m good…Air travel upsets the ol’ tum.” Sam joked, patting his belly and Guy nodded in acknowledgement. “Oh, well take it easy. These things can go pretty fast.” Sam nodded as he sat down. Now that he really thought about it hadn’t really thought about the last time he had a good sleep. Guess he’d been so worried about booking the flight he just wasn’t able to.
Sam rested his head against the back of the seat, man they were comfy. He felt like he was sinking into the cushions, almost as if he was being pulled into a land of clouds and chickaraffee down. Sam could feel his eyelids getting heavier and heavier, his mouth slacking open as he plunged into a deep sleep, the seat seemingly surrounding him inside a cocoon of bliss and warmth.
Then he heard an alarm clock. Son of a yip, of course he’s suddenly pulled out of the most wonderful sleep for a stupid alarm clock. As he pried his eyes open he noticed he wasn’t on the blimp anymore. Sam was lying in a bed covered in a bright green blanket. He frantically sat up, turning his head from side to side to figure out where he was. It looked like a childs bedroom. Crude colored pictures adorned the walls and plushies and toys were either strewn across the floor or half-hassardly shoved into a toy chest in the corner. The room was illuminated by an emerald green light spilling out from a nearby window and there was an unnerving lack of straight lines and symmetry. He turned towards the still ringing alarm clock, resisting the urge to hold his hands against the side of his head. The clock then began bounding, and walking out of the room, still letting out a shrill ringing that gave Sam a headache.
As the clock walked out he saw two feet walk into the door frame. He looked up and saw a figure standing in front of him wearing an apron and holding a tray of green eggs and ham, seemingly offering them to Sam. Its face was obscured by a space themed mobile in front of the figure, but deep down in his gut he could tell who it was. “…Mom?…” he breathed out apprehensively, suddenly feeling gravity shift as he began to float into the air. He tried to peek around the mobile, trying to just get the smallest idea of what his mother looked like but she turned and began running, laughing joyously but it seemed more mocking in this context. Sam moved any limb he could, trying to get closer to his mother but was always kept so tantalizingly close yet so far away. He couldn’t touch her, he couldn’t hug her to make sure she was real, he couldn't see her face. No, there was absolutely nothing for him to do but to yell for his mother, praying she could hear him and just turn around, please for the love of Seuss just turn around. No matter how hard he screamed she just kept laughing, taunting him with how happy she was without him, ignoring how tormented he felt alone.
As he kept screaming the hallway shifted, the walls seeming to melt away like wax, the wallpaper peeling away to reveal a musty abandoned smell. His mother went into the green void at the end of the hallway, fading away almost as if she went into fog. Suddenly gravity switched on again causing him to fall down into the mist, sliding down a railing of an unseen staircase so fast his hat almost flew away. All that surrounded him was that green misty vacuum that muffled his screams to the point he couldn’t tell if he was even making audible noise. Without warning the railing stopped causing him to fall beneath the fog, flailing as tears streamed down his face with broken sobs. He thought he could smell fire, smoke…ham.
The fall became less harsh, almost like a parachute was causing resistance as he was dropped into a highchair. When he blinked he could see a green egg on a spatula, hanging dangerously off the edge. He wondered for a moment how it didn’t fall. He could see his mother holding the spatula towards him, offering the egg that was once again keeping him from seeing her face.
“Here Sam, try them.”
“Sam?”
“Sam.”
“Sam!”
He could feel nudging on his shoulder as he heard Guy yell to wake him up. Sam's eyes shot open, he was breathing heavily and his fur was slightly damp with sweat and tears. “Sam are you alright?” Guy said, sitting awfully close to him, his face caked with worry. Sam continued to catch his breath for a moment before he responded. “Y..yeah yeah…just uh…just a nightmare.” He said with an awkward cough before turning towards the window. “Do you…get those often?” Guy inquired, hovering his hand in the air above Sam's shoulder as if he was deciding if he should comfort him or not. Sam shrugged. “Enough to where they’re not that big of a deal anymore.” He replied, staring deep into the glass. Guy decided against touching Sam, laying his hand in his lap. “Well…we’re almost there. Are you feeling well enough to eat?” Sam turned to Guy who had a small smile on his wrinkled face. “I hear that green eggs and ham are really good on a blimp.”
Sam chuckled and gave a small nod. “Yeah…I guess I could eat.”
Sam followed Guy towards the front of the blimp, wiping the edges of his eyes to get all the crust out. Guy glanced back at Sam everyonce and awhile before they sat down at a booth, the waiter putting a booster seat down for Sam. Sam considered the menu for a moment before ordering what you’d expect. “You're not hungry, Guy?”
“No, me and E.B. ate breakfast a while ago.” Sam nodded and glanced down at the table.
“Do you know how far we are from East Flubria?” Sam questioned, drumming the table quietly to occupy his hands.
“Can’t be long now. These things can move around a million zillometers an hour, it's really impressive actually. The fact this blimp is so large yet can move so fast is a technological marvel!”
Sam smiled seeing Guy geek out over machines, it was a clear passion of his.
“Oh please, I bet you could build something way better than this in no time. Your mind is a marvel within itself.” Sam spoke without really thinking, maybe he should’ve asked for some tea with his breakfast; his mind was still a little foggy.
Guys cheeks seemed a slightly brighter orange then they usually were, maybe it was his sleepy brain pulling tricks on him. Guy cleared his throat a little before responding.
“Uhm..well uh…thank you, Sam.”
“It's nothing. I’m sure you get that all the time from Michellee.” Sam gave a cheeky wink and a slight wiggle of his brows.
Guy shifted his gaze away from Sam as he let out a soft ‘yeah’ though he didn’t seem particularly excited about it.
“She does compliment your skills right? Cus they’re undeniable.” Guy scoffed at this notion.
“The skill to make everything blow up?”
“Guy. Not everything you make blows up.”
“Really? Name one of my inventions that hasn’t exploded.”
“The tree house.” Sam said without hesitation.
“…that doesn’t count.” Guy grumbled.
“C’mon Guy you got to be kidding me! That thing is incredible! What do you mean it doesn’t count?”
“It…just doesn’t.”
“You’re just finding ways to ignore the success’ so you can focus on the mistakes Guy.”
“I can’t keep riding on highs from my pre-teen years Sam. I’ve been inventing my whole life and the only thing I have to show for it now is a pile of ash, mountains of bills and wrinkles before 30.”
Sam was catching the drift that this was stressing Guy out, which wasn’t his intention in the slightest. Time to change the subject. “Right…how’ve things been going around the house? You and E.B. getting on well?” Guy shrugged in response, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought.
“I suppose. I don’t really know what she thinks of me. I mean I’m not sure how I’d feel if my mom’s new boyfriend moved in.”
“What about you and Michellee?” Guy froze for a moment.
“We’re…fine.”
“Just fine?”
“I mean not just fine, it’s…it’s weird. She’s a great woman but sometimes…” Guy sighed and slouched slightly in his chair. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just holding her back…”
“Guy…” Sam leaned forward and gently rested his hand on Guy’s, though he needed to crawl almost entirely onto the table to reach him. “You’re not holding anyone back. You’re not a burden on anyone.” He said trying to be as genuine as he could but the held back snickers from Guy was keeping him distracted.
“Sorry, sorry.” He said while holding his free hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “You just look so ridiculous on the table like that.”
“Wow, Guy. I’m trying to be nice and you’re laughing at my poor stature. So cruel.” Sam said while tutting and shaking his head. He was unconsciously smiling hearing Guy laugh, it was such a rare sound to hear from the knox.
#fanfiction#writblr#writing#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#half of the chapter is done!#go on my ao3 to read the rest when it’s finished#briefcase buddies#briefcase boyfriends#geah netflix#geah spoilers#geah#green eggs and ham#guy am i#sam i am#sam is a simp#sam is tired#date night#rewrite#the second serving#order up#order up ao3
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OH DEAR HI I'm the anon from before HII!!
Thank you so much for reading my message, it literally made my day!!
First of all NOO THE SUITCASE?? I hope you get it back soon, that sucks 😭
For the Outlast AU, girl I read the newest chapter the second it came out, and oh boy was I screeching LMAO
I was actually kinda worried since it had been a while since the last fic and I was worried you had paused writing, but then it was THERE, and it was ASHLEY POV AGAIN AUGH (Ash is my favorite UD character LMAO)
So thoughts, where do I even begin???? I'm gonna add some of my favorite lines that I just love a lot LOL
''All because it was actually his voice. It wasn't an electronic facsimile screaming and sobbing desperately through a bluetooth earbud, and it certainly wasn't her own voice weaving his actual words through the folds of her brain during the private late night conversations the three of them hadn't been able to enjoy for almost three weeks now. It was him''
Girl I am crying already O[-[
It's so heartbreaking reading about their separation and now that it's so close for them I just wanna SCREAM
''All of which she knew because Ashley had been the one to turn that once alive inmate into a bloody, mangled corpse herself. All for the crime of them simply being the last thing that stood between her and the door that kept her from Chris and Josh.
''Ash can murder a little bit, as a treat /J
GO GIRL GO GET YOUR BOYS.
''Has her name always sounded like this? Like it had been created solely to be spoken in his voice, said like it was something holy—like she was holy?''
God I keep coming back to this line, it's just. Perfection. It's so darn good.
''Forcing himself to push off of the wall and continue his hurried stumble down the stairs, steadfastly ignoring the bright, sticky handprints that he had left in his wake. (Though really, Ashley can't help but think, what is one more mark of blood in a place that is already saturated in it.)
''I just really like this line, it's chilling!
"Okay, I gotta get this off my chest, but whoever the hell it was that suggested the couple's retreat to the insane asylum is officially being kicked out of the polycule."
SJSHSJK what would we do without our Chrissy 😭 Always gotta lighten the mood!
Also just the entire last paragraph... girl my heart is on the floor, it is in pieces, I am crying
Their reunion was just so heartwarming and with every second it took for them to see each other, I just kept waiting for the rug to be swept out from my under feet and for the angst to kick in, but NOT THIS TIME!! THEY'RE TOGETHER!!
God the way they just look at each other, taking in how much (or how little) they've changed O[-[
I don't know if half of this makes sense, I'm just rambling LMAOO
Seriously though, you deserve only the highest praise, I genuinely loved this fic, and I am eagerly waiting to inhale the next parts!!!!!
There's so much more I want to share, buy AUGH WORDS
Also writing Chrissy like that reminded me of a dream I had once I first discovered the Fandom. I think it was a text post that was like ''If Chris kissed Ashley, could he say he Chrissed her?'' and I got so mad about it I woke up LMAOOO
AAAAAHHHHHHH IM SO GLAD THAT YOU ENJOYED IT!!!!!!
(I will say though that the fact that this is another Ashley POV addition is just chance, once I actually stop working on these """"snippets"""" the plan is that the viewpoints will switch between the three of them so I hope that this doesn't deter you any on future stories for this universe askdaksldsaj)
You would not believe how much fun I had writing literally any of the parts where they were all basically close enough to touch but still so far apart that anything could happen to prevent the reunions. Pining in a completely different sense of the word there: a nice fun, obsessive, desperate pining where they're willing to do whatever and kill whoever it takes as long as they're back together. They can ALL do some murder, as a treat <3 They deserve that much I think lmao
And man, that whole name scene? From the very beginning I knew that Chris was gonna (unintentionally) distract her with her name until she couldn't take it anymore and finally interrupt him. But that whole 'holy' line? Yeah that one came out of left field for even me alskdjlaksjd Vividly remembering writing that bit and going 'oh shit, that's fucking good I am so good at this shit'... before immediately tearing out my hair for the next and calling myself a fraud probably not even thirty seconds later SDFKLJSDFJ
And that whole 'kicked out of the polycule' line? That was the one single line I had had planned out since I started writing this one like two years ago. And yet, the line had originally been a JOSH line. Delivered flatly and sarcastically and all. But when I finally got to writing that last scene in question, I started second guessing myself and wondered if it was a Chris line instead. In the end, the only reason I went with the Chris-delivery though was simply because I liked how bittersweet it would be if the line was met with not a short and tired snort, but the first time any of them had a chance for some genuine full-bodied laughter before the tears finally came on once the reality hit.
(Also, if do end up doing something with the whole "If Chris kissed Ashley, could he say he Chrissed her?" dream line than you have only yourself to blame. Gonna make you rage quit in the beginning of a fic if your not careful ;P)
#asks#anon#also i did get the original one that you sent yesterday i swear!#just didnt have the time to respond to it until just now sorry 😭
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No Me Queda Más
Pairing: Javier Peña x Latina!Reader
WC: 3,346
Warnings: angst, substance abuse: nicotine and alcohol, profanity, mentions of canon violence, blood, guns, and maybe some fluff...? Idk
text dividers by @firefly-graphics
A/N: Querida= dearest or beloved, usually as a form of affection for a romantic partner. Hermosa= beautiful
P.S.; Had this one in the drafts for months, and I was getting tired of looking at it. Please enjoy it and lemme know if I should write a second part. Thank you, XX- Angela!

The air was sticky; humid.
Rays of sun beaming down your exposed arms—face burning with a dull heat that made you want to drench yourself in an ice bath. You were starting to miss the three hours on the plane. At least it was air-conditioned.
You tighten your jacket around your waist, wiping the sheen of perspiration from your forehead with the back of your hand. It was hot, god, it was hot—maybe you should've gone with shorts instead of slacks.
Your eyes flicker ahead, zeroing in on the cardboard sign with your name on it. You find yourself frowning, lifting your palm to keep the sun from your sight. You approach the blond leaning against the driver's side of an SUV, suitcase rolling beside you.
"You must be our newest addition," The blond acknowledges you, pushing off the car before tossing the sign in the back seat through the open window. "I'm Steve Murphy," He offers his hand, looking at you through a pair of aviators, and clouds of smoke—a cigarette hanging loosely on his bottom lips.
You eyed the burning embers, an itch crawling up your neck from your withdrawal of nicotine, twitching just to have a drag. "Nice to meet you, Steve." You take his hand for a shake, swallowing thickly—eyes locked on the need to ask him for one. No. No. You quit almost a year ago, and you were doing so well. You weren't gonna break the streak now.
"Shit, sorry," Steve curses, dropping the stick to the ground—putting it out quickly. "Not a fan of smoking, huh?"
"Oh, no, it's not that." You reassure him, dismissing the fact that he put out a perfectly good stogie. "I quit ten months ago. I just..."
"You miss it?" He quirks a brow, smirking lightly—your lips pressed tightly together, and you nod, earning a soft chuckle from the blond. "I get it," Steve reaches over for your suitcase, pushing the handle down to grip the top. "Come on," He beckons with a jerk of his head. "I hope you read up on the plane cause we're gonna need all hands on deck."
You nod softly, following behind Steve, and he opens the passenger door, holding it open for you to slide in. "Thanks," You mumble, reaching for the seatbelt while he tucked your suitcase into the back seat.
Steve opens the door, getting into the SUV—settling himself in front of the steering wheel, hands already working his seatbelt just as he slams the door shut.
"Listen," You start as the engine roars to life, the car rolling onto the busy streets of Bogotá. "I know my coming here was sudden, and I doubt you wanted me here either. Believe me, If it were up to me, I'd..."
"Woah there," Steve defers, glancing over at you and your fiddling thumbs. "Since when did I say you were unwelcomed?"
Your mouth snaps shut, meeting his quick gaze before he resettles on the road ahead. The trip was unexpected—your boss practically pushing you out the door of his office with a plane ticket and the case file of the notorious narcotraficante. Miami was your home, Little Havana becoming a part of you, and as soon as you stepped foot into Colombia—you almost felt serenity.
"While it's true that my partner and I are pretty damn solid," Steve says as a matter-of-factly, tongue darting between his lips. "A fresh pair of eyes never hurts. And I'm sure Carrillo will be damn excited to meet another DEA agent who'll be on his ass."
You crack a smile, humming in response at the man beside you. "Thank you, Agent Murphy. I appreciate the consideration on your behalf. What about your partner?"
"I'm sure Peña will get over it."
You swore you stopped breathing, the lone surname bringing you back to the first night you met him.
You were just twenty-three years old. A rookie, a fresh recruit buried deep within the round-ups of Quantico. Being a DEA agent had always been a dream of yours. You wanted to be in the action, drug busts, and gunning your ass out of a bad situation when you needed to.
Though, the way you met him was a bit...unconventional.
"Oh, yes, Javi! Right there, right there!"
You froze, the bell above the bar's door ringing as it shuts behind you. You turn your head towards the sound, faint grunts, and moans emanating from the alley where the dumpsters reside. Seriously? You thought. The only reason you stepped a foot out of the bar was to have a smoke, not that you were particularly proud of the habit but, it did relieve a copious amount of stress on your behalf.
You'd only heard about the famous Javier through your roommates, how stellar his skills were back in his days. He was older than you by a few years, and you'd seen him in passing while aiding the director of your class but, you've never actually spoken to him. You certainly couldn't fathom his figure stepping out of the shadows, hands readjusting his belt buckle as one of your teammates steps out as well, hiking down her skirt. You grimaced, reaching into your pocket for your Marlboros and a lighter. You pull out a cigarette with your teeth, clasping the filter between your lips as you go to spark the butane.
His eyes meet yours in a lazy sweep, your back rested against a brick pillar—cheeks hollowing with a drag. He goes to whisper something in your roommate's ear, making her giggle and peck his cheek before waltzing back into the bar. He looks at you again, shifting his attention to the stogie gently wedged between your lips. "Think I could steal one of those from you?"
His voice was smooth, a slight thickness that was easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. Nothing like a cigarette after a fuck, right? You blow out the clouds of carbon monoxide, tipping the opened box towards him—offering him a response of sorts. Javier takes a few strides before you and plucks a fresh cigarette from the box, placing it between his full lips. "You wouldn't happen to have a-"
You beat him to the punch, sparking your lighter once again. He sends you a smile, leaning close to the flame to ignite his addiction. "Thanks," He huffs, gesturing to the smoke. You regard him with a nod, shifting your attention to the bustling noises of other trainees huddling out of the bar.
"You're one of the recruits, right?" The suddenness of his tone captures your attention once again. The left side of his face was illuminated by the warm glow of the bar, making his eyes seem golden brown—as if the afternoon sun were shining through a glass of whiskey. You nod again, unaware of just how dry your mouth had become, and the tobacco was not to blame.
"FBI or DEA?" He asks, crossing a leg over the other to transfer his weight on one leg. "Wait, don't tell me," He rushes, seeing your lips part to answer him. "Puedo adivinar?"
That makes you crack a smile, pushing off the pillar to realign your posture. "Go on, then."
Javier's vision narrowed to a pinprick, taking the cigarette out of his mouth to tap the cherry against his thumb—the ashes descending to the concrete below you. His gaze burned holes through you, the silence holding you in a grip while he distinguished his inference, making notes of the way you carried yourself—the way your eyes sparkled in curiosity and how you smiled suspiciously.
"I got it," He pipes, taking a long drag, and he shuffles closer. "It's almost too easy."
"Well?" You press, tucking your free hand underneath your arm—the night's chill biting your skin. "Which is it?"
"FBI...?"
You tilt your head, scrunching your nose, your eyes telling him that he wasn't quite there. "It's lucky that you aren't FBI, huh?" You quip, lifting your brow in question.
He hums in response, almost amused at your subtle way of calling out his lack of observance. "Damn, I thought I had you figured out, and DEA was my first choice."
"I'm sure it was." You murmur, blowing out the warm smoke from your lungs.
"Peña," He responds, a pulled smile on his lips as he outstretches his hand for you to shake. "Javier."
You untuck your hand, placing it in his frigid palm that almost swallowed yours wholly. You shivered, wrapping your fingers around his hand in a firm grip. "I know who you are," You remind him, dropping his hand to re-warm yours inside your jacket. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Oh?"
You take in the inquisitive expression, eyes flickering all over to admire the prominent features of his face. He was gorgeous, obviously, and had a mustache that could kill. His lips were pulled into a condescending smirk, cheeks flushed with a mixture of smoke and cold weather. Javier was a babe, and you'd have to be blind not to think so. Especially with those damn polos and tight jeans—it's no wonder that every woman in class fawned over him. You were so entranced that you barely missed his question. "What?"
Javier's smile widens, clearly finding your distraction humorous. It's almost as if he knew you were checking him out. "I asked if it was good or bad."
"A bit of both," You grumble, cheeks burning with discomfiture. "It's a mixture of your reputation as a trainee and a...lover." You squeezed out, almost cringing at your choice of word. It wasn't a lie, though. It seemed as if Peña had made a name for himself at Quantico, and you knew you'd never hear the end of it tonight.
"Huh," You swore he was almost proud. Peña was a ladies' man, there was no doubt about that, and he didn't mind helping out the single women when they asked for his services. But, there was something about the way you looked at him—disappointed, almost. "What can I say? I'm a lover, not a fighter."
"Is that what the alley was for?"
Javier glances over his shoulder, his encounter with the young blonde resurfacing. "Oh, that?" He shifts his focus back to you, watching as you drop the end of the cigarette to the ground, distinguishing the embers with your sneaker. "Katie's just a friend."
You nod softly, scoffing at his regard to your roommate. "Right, well..." You trail, stealing a glance at your watch. "I should get back to the academy."
"I'll walk you." Javier drops the end of the butt, dousing it out with his shoe.
"Oh, no," You quickly disagree, eyes flickering over to Katie sitting across the bar. "I don't want to trouble you and-"
"It's a twenty-minute walk, and it's dark outside." He deadpans, reaching for the zipper on his jacket to pull it up. "There's no way in hell I'm letting you walk by yourself, Hermosa. Come on," He beckons, starting down the sidewalk. "I was heading back there anyway."
Your stomach fluttered, the endearing name causing your thoughts to go fuzzy. It was just as sweet as it sounds.
"You know," He chimes, glancing over at your profile as you begin to follow him side-by-side. "You never actually told me your name..."
From then on, Javier never left your side. Within those 19 weeks at Quantico, Peña had become your mentor—advising you on every little thing you did wrong, throwing in tips when he could, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't appreciate it.
You didn't want to admit it but, you'd fallen for the Mexicano during your training even if you knew you shouldn't have. It was onerous; you couldn't help yourself, despite the many women he'd aim to please at midnight. It'd become a game of cat and mouse between the two of you, except; the mouse didn't know the cat was after him, and the cat was too shy to admit it. Sometimes, Peña was too oblivious for his own good.
"Peña?" You mumble, your stomach almost swallowing your heart whole. It couldn't be him, right? He wasn't talking about your Peña, right? What were you saying? Javier was his own person, and he wasn't yours to lose. You'd come to terms with that after he left the day of your graduation. No warning, no call—he was gone. "As in Javier?"
"Yeah..." Steve frowns, looking over at your figure in his passenger seat. Your head lowered, gaze cast down at your fiddling fingers in your lap. "You know him?" He asks, eyeing you suspiciously.
You swallow thickly, tongue darting between your lips, and you nod, meeting Murphy's curious glance. "Something like that."
"Thank you, mijita," Javier uttered gratefully, regarding the intern with a curt nod as she hands him a fresh cup of coffee—his focus divided between the evidence board and the entrance of the office.
There was a prompt start to his morning—waiting for the inevitable outcome of the war on drugs. His routine was familiar; deliberate. Peña knew what to expect from his day. He knew what Murphy would pick up for breakfast and what songs would play in the bar on Friday nights. Even the damn diversions the narcos would invoke—he had it down to the T.
What he didn't expect was the news from Carillo. Running his mouth about a new agent joining them in Bogotá. Though Horacio didn't mention who the hell it was, Javier couldn't shake the trepidation. It wasn't that he hated the idea but, it took him a while to get used to Murphy. Peña had a slight trust issue problem—so Steve had mentioned it a couple of times.
"Hey!"
Javier turns on his heel, the amicable tone of his partner's voice drawing his attention—coffee mug still in his grasp. He stares in wonder as Murphy plops down at his chair, leaning back to prop his feet on the desk—taking another cigarette between his lips.
"Well?!" Peña exasperates, arms splayed out—careful not to spill the coffee.
Steve's eyes meet his partner mid-light, half chuckling from obvious need at Javi's curiosity. "Well, what?"
"Don't be an asshole, Murphy," He deadpans, earning another snicker from the blond. "Where's the agent? Carillo sent you to go pick 'em up an hour ago."
"Yeah," The blonde concurs, puffing out a breath of smoke. "I dropped her off at the hotel. She wanted to freshen up before getting here."
"Her?" Javier inquires, stepping close to his partner's desk—gently placing the mug down. "The new agent is a woman?"
Steve nods in response, letting his legs sink back below his desk—cheeks hollowing with a trawl of the filter. "It's kind of funny," He starts as Peña crosses his arms. "It seemed as if she knew you."
"What do you me-" Javier almost chokes on his words, eyes rounding; astounded. The sight of you is like a rainbow after a storm. There you were, standing ten feet away—just as beautiful as he remembered. As if he ever forgot. Your name fell from his lips as a whisper—sunken into the ridges of the tumescent skin, the familiarity of each syllable grazing his tongue. "Hermosa...?" He calls out softly, taking his time to register how much you'd changed since he saw you last. You weren't some 23-year-old inexperienced trainee anymore. You were grown, skilled...an unscathed dream he wasn't worthy to taint.
You were in just as much shock as he was—reminders of him flooding in as if a reservoir had broken down once your eyes met. How was it possible for a person to get even more handsome? You had somehow managed to tune out the noise in the bullpen—focusing solely on the man in front of you as he steps a couple of feet closer. Time seemed to stop—your souls becoming the only proof of life around you. You swallow hard, shoving the unrequited feelings down into the pit of your stomach—never giving it the light of day. You let yourself smile, eyes brightening at your old friend. "Peña," You breathe out, his whiskey eyes dragging over your being.
"Well, I'll be damned," Javier's mouth pulls into a felicitous grin—his mustache curling along. It was unexpected; the hug. His arms gently came around your back—locking you in an embrace that strangely felt like home. It took only a second before you reach for him, wrapping desperate arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and cardamom. Just as I remembered. "It's been too long, querida."
Javier wasn't one for hugs. Maybe an awkward side squeeze but, that was about it. So, it definitely surprised Murphy when his partner had his arms wrapped around the new agent.
"Well, that's not something you see every day," Steve whispered under his breath, clouds of smoke intertwining with his confusion.
"How've you been?" Javier beams, pulling away suddenly to look at your face—his eyes retracing the steps of your features. "Qué haces aquí? I mean, I know why you're here, but why here in Bogotá?"
He was nervous, and there wasn't a doubt about that. Even Murphy could see it—watching his partner fumble to reconnect with the new recruit. The subtle tick Peña had of rubbing the back of his neck when a pretty girl had caught his attention. It was all there, and it didn't take a genius to see that.
Javi could recall the moment he'd taken a liking to you.
He was only there to observe, giving out a few compliments to the students that deserved them, helping to readjust their alignment and tips as such. You assumed he was there to talk to Katie but, to your surprise, he waltzed right past her—settling his broad, tall figure beside you.
"You're too tense," Peña notes, leaning closer to penetrate the soundproof Headwear. "-And your stance is off—the only thing that's gonna do is cause recoil, and you'll be shooting anything other than your target."
You huff, ignoring his notes, yet, still taking them into consideration. You loosened your shoulders, shuffling your shoes closer together to stand taller. You take a breath, squinting lightly above the muzzle before you take a shot, missing the target once again.
"Like this, Hermosa," Javier gently takes the grip from your soft hands, and you step aside. "You make sure it's loaded, obviamente." He moves closer to the counter, pushing back on the front slide, forefinger barely touching the trigger. "Don't push down either, and manage your trigger control."
You hardly noticed the lack of guns firing around you, the range quieting down as the other trainees slowly gather around to watch. If you weren't paying attention to the man in tight pants, you would've noticed the death glare your roommate was giving you.
"Aim, steady, y luego…" Before he finished his sentence, Peña took three shots—piercing the bullseye each time. "Plomo." His eyes glide over to your own, smirking cockily from the applauding crowd he gathered. "Simple."
"You either forgot that this is a learning class," You start, taking the grip back from his hands. "Or you're just that narcissistic."
"Or maybe I'm just trying to help you."
"Help me?" You rebuke, glancing down at the pistol, removing the mag to make sure it's still loaded. "We met four days ago. What's the sudden interest in me, huh? Shouldn't you be entertaining a hook-up right now?" You mumble, jerking your chin towards the angry blonde with a gun.
He frowns, straightening his posture before following your line of vision. "Katie doesn't smoke," He answers truthfully, shifting back to you. "Pero tú?"
"So, what?" You cock one of your brows, somewhat offended that he blatantly admitted he was just using you. "Am I your tobacco supplier now?"
"And," Javier adds, noticing the disappointment wash over your features. "You're the only woman who hasn't fallen for my…charming personality. And yes, the Marlboros are a bonus."
You hum in response, turning back to the target in front of you. "Class ends in fifteen minutes. Thanks for the tips, Peña."
"I was in Miami for a while," You answer, pulling Javier out of his memories. "I wasn't really doing anything, and my boss didn't like that I was having fun, so here I am."
He let himself smile, only dropping it when he realized his hands were still on you—his thumbs grazing your biceps. Javier clears his throat, awkwardly retracting his palms.
"Well, I'm glad your here."
The two of you could hear Murphy's snort from across the room, your eyes flickering to the blond's shaking head.
"Where was that attitude when I joined, huh, Peña?"
#javier peña#javier peña x reader#javier pena#narcos fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#steve murphy#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#javier pena x reader
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THAT ONE TOWER FIC - You Weren't Meant To See That
Part Two
summary: You're the newest addition to the Avengers' Logistics Team, and it’s your move-in day at the Avengers Tower. In terms of how you’re feeling, 'nervous' is an understatement. However, the seemingly arrogant Tony Stark shows you a type of hospitality you’ve never been offered before, along with the rest of the team- except for one of their new inductees, who makes more eye contact with the floor than you do.
pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader
a/n: I'll be real, this is my very first fic in about a decade since I first started writing. If there is anything wrong, please don't hesitate to leave me any criticism! I want to continue this story and have ideas for more.
disclaimer: the only places you'll find this fic, and my writing, will be my blog and my AO3. =)
gif by bonniebirddoesgifs
The cold air of the atrium sends a chill down your spine as you set your suitcases down in front of the large marble desk. You swallow the hard lump in your throat along with the intrusive thoughts. The plexiglass barrier presents a handwritten message, black ink on a piece of copy paper: ‘Back in 5 :)’
The smiley face taunts you as you stare at the message. Of course. Sighing, you drop the duffel bag that is slung on your shoulder to the floor and look around the atrium. It’s quiet for being a Thursday afternoon, especially for being smack dab in the middle of Manhattan. The large, floor-to-ceiling windows bring in as much sunlight as possible but fail to show how cold it is outside, aside from the fog creeping at the corners of them. The polished floors reflect the pillars of artificial light that are installed within the walls, emanating a soft glow.
You look down at your phone to make sure you arrived at the right time. According to the encrypted email, amongst the very specific instructions and copies of signed paperwork, your arrival was to be at 3 o’clock. You were right on time.
The receptionist, however, was not.
Anxiety begins to wash over you and your teeth being to chew on your lip. The last thing you wanted was to have it seem like you were late, especially for a day like today. Looking around once more, you shake your head and hoist your duffel back onto your shoulder and move to grab the handles of your suitcases. You’ll just find the floor yourself.
Just as you start to step back from the desk, the approaching click click click of heels on marble is heard.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to be gone for so long!”
You turn to look down the hallway at a tall and skinny blonde in a blue dress. The clicking of her heels picks up as she speed-walks toward you and moves back behind her desk. She takes the paper down from the glass and settles into her chair.
“I was waiting on coffee orders for Mr. Stark, and they were taking a bit longer than usual,” she quips breathlessly. “Were you waiting long?” She logs back into her computer and glances up at you with a raised brow.
You clear your throat. “Oh, um, no, not long.” You press your lips together into a smile but you’re positive it doesn’t come show that way.
“Oh, good. So, how can I help you?”
“I, um, I’m here for my on-boarding and move-in,” you gesture with the duffel slung on your shoulder.
“Alright, let me just…” her eyes dance while she reads the computer screen. A few clicks here, several more there. The silence only makes your palpitating heart beat louder.
“Alright! I have you checked in and Mr. Stark himself will be down shortly,” she smiles, “Would you like anything to drink? We have complimentary Pellegrino, coffee, tea?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m fine, thank you, though.”
She nods in response and returns her attention back to her computer. The end of the conversation hangs in the air, the only sound filling it is the clack clack clack of her perfectly manicured acrylics typing away.
Just as you are about to check the time again, a ding is heard from the elevators on your left. Both you and the receptionist glance in the direction of the doors around the corner in anticipation. Footsteps become closer until you see two men round the corner and stop in front of you. Tony Stark stops, his hands clasp behind his back as he stares with brown expectant eyes at you and the receptionist. He dons a faded Alice In Chains shirt and oil-stained work pants, his boots somehow surprisingly untouched by any sort of mess. Behind him stands one broad-shouldered Steve Rogers in dark blue jeans, worn boots, and a heather grey t-shirt that seems just a tad too tight for his torso.
“Katherine, you rang?” Tony asks as he glances past you. Katherine chuckles in response.
“Yes, I did. Your newest recruit is here.”
“And I’m assuming this is she?” Tony’s eyes land back on you, giving you’re a once-over and quirking his brow asking for a response.
“In the flesh,” you say. Well, that wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve said. Tony smiles and nods a thank you to Katherine.
“Well, I would hope so,” he jokes back. “Cap here will help you with your bags, if you will please follow us up to your quarters.” Steve moves swiftly to grab hold of your two suitcases and gestures for you to give him your duffel.
“Oh, no, I got this one. Thank you, though.”
He nods in respect and falls in line behind you and Tony into the stainless-steel elevator.
“Friday, take us to Level 24.”
“Of course, sir,” a voice answers from the speaker above. You look up at the source and around the space. The mirrors surrounding your trio show a hundred clones of yourselves. You suddenly feel the elevator rise quickly on the way to your destination. You glance over your shoulder at the towering Captain America and his blue eyes meet yours. He gives you a small smile and wink, returning his eyes forward.
You stand there, still staring, lips parted in slight disbelief. The elevator slows to a stop, F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces your posse’s arrival and the doors slide open.
“Welcome to your new home!” Tony presents, stepping out of the elevator and opening his arms. Steve steps out next and waits for you to do the same.
However, you stand there for a second, processing. Somehow, the gesture makes you feel a sliver of security, something you haven’t felt in a long time.
A long, long time.
You take a step, and the doors close behind you.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
“So, this is where you’ll be staying,” Tony motions to the door you’re approaching. He scans his badge on the card reader bolted into the wall next to the door. A beep, then a click, and he pushes the door open, and you follow inside.
A decently sized living area greets you; a flat screen, coffee table, and couch to the left and a small kitchen with a nice amount of cabinet space to your right. On the opposite side of the room is a sliding-glass door leading to a small balcony outside. Venturing further inside, Tony lets you explore the adjacent hallway where your bed and attached bathroom are. Your luggage is already set in front of the bed, your duffel— which Steve had insisted on taking so Tony could give you the tour— resting on top of the white duvet.
“I hope you find everything to your liking. If not, don’t hesitate to let me know and I’ll have anything changed in a heartbeat, down to the handles on the cabinets,” Tony states as you wander back out into the living room. Your living room.
You smile and nod as you look around once more. You still can’t believe this whole place— nay, apartment— is yours. You look back at Tony by the door and give him a small smile, bitten back from your teeth knowing on your lip.
“Thank you. I, I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
He chuckles and shakes his head.
“I mean, sure, kid. You’ve earned it. Hell, you beat out everyone in the application process, not to mention you were also the one who was able to out-code everyone else in the interview trials.”
You feel heat rush to your face and you look down to the floor. The mood shifts slightly.
“You sure don’t seem the most excited, though. Most people, I think, would be speechless or something,” he clears his throat and leans back against the door, “You, uh, you alright?”
Your eyes find his gaze, soft, with a hint of genuine concern. You sigh and shrug, dropping your arms to your sides.
“Yeah, I guess it’s just,” you pause, "a lot. This pales in comparison to where I’m from, honestly, and this is the first solid place I’ve had since—,” you pause and glance at the ground once more, searching the hardwood flooring for an answer like a crystal ball. Tony raises his brow in question.
“Since, um, I graduated,” you finish. It wasn’t technically a lie, truth be told.
Tony’s stare stays on you for a second more, his brow twitch in confusion, but then he relaxes and nods in understanding.
“I get it, kid,” he says, “but, hey, how about we finish this tour off in the common area? Maybe you’ll even get to meet some of the team besides myself and Cap.”
You nod and follow him out of your quarters, turning right down the wide hallway. It wasn’t too far of a walk, you noted; just about the right distance from your doorstep in case you ever decided to venture out for a midnight snack or some insomnia-fueled research.
The hallway turns abruptly into the open common area, spacious with more floor-to-ceiling windows and plenty of extra lighting everywhere. The layout reminds you of one of those office kitchens you would see while on career tours in school, like a big corporate office that allows jeans every day and is mostly ran by a handful of thirty-year-olds.
An open concept kitchen, complete with a large island and a rather large fridge and freezer. A living space with the biggest suede sectional you have ever seen, facing a flat screen that could compete with the windows in terms of size, and a coffee table of equally large size to match the couch. The rest of the space holds an off-hand glass conference room, some other tables, and large double doors that open out onto an equally spacious balcony with even more seating.
Holy shit. You feel your jaw drop.
“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” Tony quips from behind you. You spin around to him in in disbelief.
“’Ain’t much?’ Jesus Christ, Tony, this is a bigger room than the high school I went to,” you exclaim. This incites a laugh from the man, not loud, but genuine.
Just then, a few voices approach the common area. Three of them, two men and a woman. Curiosity catches you and your gaze shifts over Tony’s shoulder as he turns around to greet the new guests.
“Hey! Rocket Man! What are you doing in here?” One of the men greets. You recognize him as The Falcon, but you couldn’t exactly remember his real name. Shaun? No, Seth? No...
“Just giving the grand tour to our newest Logistics recruit, Wingman,” Tony turns, gesturing openly to you as you stand in the middle of the room. Your heart soars to your throat. You flash a nervous smile while you shove your hands into your hoodie's pockets.
“Kid,” Tony turns back to you, “this is Sam,” he gestures to the man flashing the toothy grin and sporting a beige bomber jacket.
Sam! That’s right, I remember him.
“This is Natasha,” he points to the woman, a bright redhead with stark blue eyes and a grey hoodie on her shoulders. She looks you up and down, her gaze unreadable yet intimidating. You gulp under her stare, and she smirks, giving you a small nod of approval.
Natasha, okay.
“And finally, this is James, who is lovingly referred to in this household as—“
“Bucky,” James finishes. Tony shoots him a quick, tense look and turns back to you. Bucky flashes you a small smile under tired blue eyes. A few strands of his long, chestnut hair hang by his face from falling out of his ponytail. His hands are gloved and his frame, while bold and broad, hides under a black jacket that matches the shade of his t-shirt.
“It’s, um, nice to meet you. All of you,” you laugh nervously. The heat in your cheeks won’t subside.
“Right back atcha, newbie!” Sam says, moving to you and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t you worry, if anyone is a better tour guide than Stark, it’s me.” The weight of his arm and his sudden closeness takes you off guard.
“So, where’re you from?” Natasha asks. The question catches you as off-guard as Sam did, but your answer is already on your tongue before your brain has a say in the matter.
“Indiana.”
“Oh! No shit?” Sam interrupts, “Buckaroo here is from Indiana! Aren’t ya, Buck?”
Your answer apparently caught Bucky equally off-guard. As you turn to face him, you catch him staring wide-eyed at you like a deer in headlights. You raise your brow in question, waiting for his response.
He coughs.
“Yeah, I’m uh, I'm from around there, that area,” he gestures vaguely with his hand. Immediately his eyes break from yours and his attention is back on the ground, studying the polished exposed concrete.
You, however, hold your gaze on him. Your focus withdraws from the chatter of the others as it zeroes in on Bucky. In an anxious gesture, he moves to rub the back of his neck.
Your eyes follow his hand, and you notice, for a fleeting second, a glint of light reflecting from under his sleeve, in the space where his cuff ends and his glove starts.
Leather doesn’t shine like that.
Then you feel the pit in your stomach give way like a sinkhole.
But metal does.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes/reader#bucky barnes x you#winter soldier imagine#mcu imagine#marvel imagine#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier#that one tower fic#avengers fic#avengers tower#avengers tower au#avengers au#i wanna say post-civil war and post-winter soldier#catws#cacw#first fic#mcu fic#the winter soldier#james bucky barnes
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(Maggie's POV from her Simstagram account @/maggiecwright + her non-simsta POV)
maggiecwright:
The baby of the family has graduated! Us city slickers travelled into Newcrest for the graduation of the youngest kid in our sibling set! Seeing her walk in her cap and gown with her cohort the way that the rest of us did brought a tear to my eye. We later celebrated her and my mother at a party for them, can you believe my mother has homeschooled for 30 years?! Now she can sit back, relax, and focus on being the best granny possible. Iris and Arlo love seeing all the family, there's never a shortage of cousins, aunts, and uncles to play with whenever we're with the Collins side of the family. Being back in Newcrest also meant meeting my newest nephew (who is my brother and sister-in-law's 10th kid!) and catching up with my siblings who live further away.
(Now for the regular POV)
We made plans to head into Newcrest to physically be there for Ashton's graduation, it's not everyday that your littlest sister finishes highschool. We rarely come out for the church sponsored events purely because they are a bit further out than we'd like in terms of theology, so getting to travel for a purely family event is great. Travelling for family, however, means my suitcase is 95% skirts because half the time we're at my parents house or a church members house for some event or another.
When I first started wearing pants my parents obviously weren't the biggest fans of the idea, but they accepted it was my choice as a married woman. They do however keep the rule of wearing skirts whenever we're all at home, it's technically an unspoken rule that when we're home or at an official family function its skirts only. I dont mind though, I grew up wearing skirts so there's a little slice of comfort there in wearing them whenever I'm in my childhood home or in my hometown.
The celebration was great, Amira brought little Maya with her so we were able to meet her, we were also able to meet Barrett and Kyleigh's new little one. The one time of year that we get together is Harvestfest, so it was nice not having to wait until the autumn to meet with some of my other siblings and their new additions. We also got to meet Parker's new girlfriend, this is the furthest he's gotten in a relationship courtship with a girl, so we all know at this point that what we're waiting for is an engagement. She's a lovely girl, a bit self righteous but she means well in everything she does, I can see this relationship ending in marriage so that another wedding to look forward to!
Now that Ashton is officially done with school she has more free time to travel around and see the rest of us siblings that live a bit further away from Newcrest. She’ll usually come cor a few days at a time or she’ll be with our parents or other sisters who are passing through so it’s not for long.
#fundie sims#fundiesims#quiverfull sims#quiver full sims#collins family#modest sims#collins legacy#homeschool sims#sims 4 legacy#gen 3#Ashton#Barret and Kyleigh#Maggie and Shane#Reece and Stacie#Amira and Thomas#post#maggie is at that point where she loves her family but is happy she lives a bit further away 😂#this comes at a funny time cause kelly jo did that q&a on josies story#and to me maggie is the josie of the family#but allan and casandra arent as open as KJ comes off as
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get in, loser 2
Pairing: Taeyong x female!reader
Themes: smut | mafiaboss!taeyong | carthief!reader | streetracer!reader
Word count: 8.3k
Summary: As controversial as it is, it’s Taeyong’s order for me to participate in the most prestigious race of the underground. As one may expect, it is frowned upon by other gang members.
Warnings: disregard for police enforcement | illegal street racing | improper driving | violence | character death | taeyong being the ruthless mafia boss | poor stress management | drinking
A/N !REUPLOAD! sorry I fucked something up. Next parts shall be posted on Tuesdays every two weeks.
***
Getting up early in the morning isn’t really my thing. I was the most productive during late evenings and nights, and the fact that I had to be ready unusually early fucked up my sleeping schedule. Hopefully, it was the first, and the last time my presence was requested at such an unholy hour. Right after getting introduced to my new workplace, they had to be flexible enough to let me adjust the work schedule to my preference.
Unfortunately, Taeyong didn’t specify how early Lucas wants to see me the next day. I guessed it was around 7 o’clock in the morning – it was late enough for an early bird, yet early enough for someone who doesn’t really fancy getting up at sunrise.
Having parked my starling Fiat500 in front of the building, I saw a man. He was leaned against the brick wall, smoking a cigarette. It must’ve been Lucas. Who else could’ve been? It was the asscrack of dawn, for crying out loud!
“You’ve gotta be kidding me… that’s your car?” the man asked as he flicked the butt of the cigarette, stepping on it, grinding it against the ground, visibly galled by my cute feminine vehicle.
“It’s inconspicuous,” I commented, trying to make my point. Blending in after hours was one of the most crucial things in this profession, I didn’t want to go on and scream that I steal cars and race for a living.
“You’re late,” Lucas whispered. Under any other circumstances, I would roll my eyes, but right now, I just couldn’t. I was just staring at him, slowly checking him out. He was ridiculously handsome, and I tried my best not to drool. “I’m Lucas,” he said, sending me a playful smirk.
Politely, I introduced myself despite him already knowing who I was.
“That’s impressive,” Lucas commented, and I shrugged, not wanting to go through this once again. “How did you do it? It’s not that easy to steal Taeyong’s car, let alone Yuta’s,” he added, and I sighed, trying to come up with a vague and equivocal answer.
“What can I say? You’ve gotta have charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.”
“Alright, I get it, keep your secrets,” Lucas voiced, biting his lips as if in deep thought. “Sooner or later, I’ll figure this out,” he promised and smiled, willing to take this secret with me to the grave. (I had a bad feeling in my gut, telling me Taeyong would be pissed if he found out the truth about the theft, and I was too cowardly to admit the facts.)
“Are we gonna stand here the whole day, or are you gonna show me around?” I challenged, and Lucas took a step to the side, gentlemanly letting me enter the car repair shop, following closely behind me.
“Ladies first,” he added, chuckling.
It wasn’t a typical car repair shop. The space was huge, and it could accommodate at least fifteen vehicles. On the inside, it resembled a car factory, but instead of assembling the cars, people were taking them apart.
What surprised me the most was the fact that I was the only female inside. Though I knew it was a stereotypically a male profession, men to women ratio was astounding. I didn’t mind it, though. I knew I could beat every single one of them. Gender didn’t matter at all.
“Let me introduce the guys you’ll be working with,” Lucas mentioned, and a few men stopped what they were doing to look at Lucas and me. “Please, meet Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin, and Mark,” Lucas introduced them to me, but they didn’t seem very happy to see me. If anything, they seemed a little bit hostile.
“Hi guys,” I said, smiling and waving at them, but their intimidating auras didn’t change. It was awful, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was going to work with them. They obviously didn’t like me and didn’t respect me as if worthy of the same position. And it was especially weird because I knew I was better than all of them combined.
Ignoring their angry glances, Lucas explained their roles in this division. Renjun, Haechan, and Chenle were in charge of tuning up the cars, making sure they’re up to the racing standards. Mark and Jaemin were stealing the cars and bringing them here, and Jeno and Jisung were racing. Later on, Lucas revealed I was assigned to both – car theft and racing, and of course, the boys had to voice their objection.
Apparently, they had never heard of multitasking.
According to them, it wasn’t fair for a rookie member to participate in the street races. This position had to be earned through hard work, and they just couldn’t comprehend how much effort I had put to prove my value to Taeyong.
Well… to be honest, I didn’t suspect any of the boys to ever personally talk to Taeyong. I highly doubted they had an idea of what I had to go through to get recruited. They probably had never heard of Yuta, let alone been to his area and stolen one of his vehicles.
“I hope we will work together just fine,” I declared, though deep inside, I knew it wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. I was sure the boys were to make my time there miserable.
And, oh boy, I was right…
***
Somehow, I managed to survive a week at my new workplace without quitting. At some point, I was really close to doing so, yet then I remembered what I had gone through to work here, and this thought alone kept me going. The boys were an enormous pain in the ass, but it would definitely take much more than juvenile bullying to make me leave.
I was a lot of things, but definitely, not a quitter.
Having acted tough the whole week, I needed something to help me chill, and the only person I thought of was my best friend – Doyoung. I was a gang member now, but I knew it wouldn’t matter to him – it wouldn’t have any impact on our friendship.
Within an hour, I was already at his car repair shop. Not bothering to announce my arrival, I strolled inside, looking for him. It was already weekend. All of his employees were recharging their batteries for the upcoming week, so the slim pair of legs under the Nissan Maxima must’ve been Doyoung’s.
Smirking, I slammed my hands against the hood, startling him in the process. Swiftly, Doyoung rolled out from under the car, staring at me angrily, as if refraining himself from murdering me with bare hands.
“Jesus Christ,” he yelled when he saw my face, apparently relieved it was me. “Ever since I helped you with that gig, I have terrible anxiety,” he confessed, and I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same, fearing that someone might want to get rid of me with violence.
“Good thing I stopped by,” I mused, excited to reveal my amazing plans. “I was wondering if you would like to go on vacation with me – my treat. We haven’t spent all the money Taeyong gave me that time, and he hasn’t mentioned anything if he wants the rest of it back, so I thought we could go to the beach. What do you think?”
“More like Mr. Bad Boy’s treat… It does sound tempting, though. Where is the catch?” Doyoung asked suspiciously, knowing me all too well. “Are you on another stupid assignment?”
“Well… not exactly,” I answered, looking away, nervously playing with my fingers. “They’ve accepted me as the newest addition to the family, though some of them gotta warm up to me yet,” I explained, shrugging at the thought of the relentless bullying. “But that’s not the point. Taeyong told me to get rid of the car, and I thought of kindly returning it to Yuta. It’s only logical I send him back the car plates, yet far from home because I don’t want anyone to trace it back to me.”
Judging by the look on Doyoung’s face, he wasn’t completely sold on this idea.
“It’s like killing two birds with one stone. We’ll go to the beach, post the plates to Yuta, and then enjoy the rest of the weekend, sipping drinks by the sea. It’s a two-minute risk-free adventure. What do you say? We both deserve some leisure…”
Staring straight ahead, Doyoung must’ve weighed all the pros and cons of my proposition. Ultimately he decided he deserves some alcohol drinks with cute little umbrellas in the glasses.
“What about the other car?” Doyoung asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“I’ll give it back as soon as we return.”
“Fine.”
“Great! Pack your suitcase, the plane takes off in four hours.”
As soon as we arrived, we made a short stop to mail the package to Yuta, praying for him not to trace it back to me. The parcel contained the Ferrari’s plates, a key to the storage room in Japan where Yuta’s vehicle had been kept, and a tiny piece of paper with a sorry written on it. Hopefully, once Yuta gets it back, he will forget about the car ever being stolen.
Later in the evening, we checked into the hotel I had booked, left the baggage, and hit the SPA. Having taken all available services, I was calm, I felt like a lotus flower. Doyoung, however, still was anxious and whiny.
“You need some vitamin D, my friend,” I told him, and he grimaced at me in disgust. “You know… there’s this man, his name is Jaehyun. He’s a guy from work, and I’m pretty sure he could help you let off some steam,” I offered, and Doyoung shook his head, sassily wrapping his lips around the straw, sipping on his third drink of the evening.
To be honest, I doubted Jaehyun swung for the same team, but both of them needed to get laid. Jaehyun because I was really close to start believing his gaze could be literally lethal, and Doyoung because he was so whiny and intractable to be around. I knew it wouldn’t ever work out, but I had to, at least, try.
“I appreciate the proposition, but I don’t hook up with gangsters,” Doyoung said, setting his drink on the counter. “You know what…” Doyoung started, and I rolled my eyes, knowing his further statement will be both funny and hurtful.
When tipsy, Doyoung would often state things harshly without even thinking about running around the bush. “Being your friend has become really stressful recently. It’s a matter of time until I go completely bold, and it will be exclusively your fault.”
“I know…” I agreed, sighing in helplessness. “I’ve been a terrible friend, I’m sorry,” I whispered, resting my head on Doyoung’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his hand. “I’ll never put you in danger again, I promise,” I added, acting way out of my character. Usually, I wasn’t this emotional, but I suspected it was coming from pretending to be badass all the time.
“OK, enough of the weeping, let’s buy some alcohol to go and go get drunk on the beach, waiting for the sunrise,” Doyoung pushed my off of his arm and jumped off the barstool.
“That’s the spirit!”
***
“Gather round people,” Lucas yelled as soon as he entered the car repair shop. As always, he looked like a complete snack, yet I chose not to comment on that. Though we barely spoke with one another, everybody knew how big his ego was, and I didn’t want to inflate it even more.
“What is it?” Haechan whined at Lucas, being annoyed by the interruption.
“The color festival,” Lucas revealed, and everybody grew silent at the mention of the event.
Though a regular person wouldn’t understand what’s that big of a deal, to a car racer, it was an event of the year. It’s an annual the most prestigious car race in the country – participation alone is an honor. It’s every racer’s dream to take part and win, earning a shit load of money and fame. The participation fee is 50 grand per head, after all. Every year the date is different, and only the best racers are talented enough to be a part of it. No wonder Taeyong’s gang will have its representative.
“It takes place this Friday, and Taeyong has already decided who’s gonna represent us this year,” Lucas announced, and the boys started to guess whether it would be Jisung or Jeno. If I had to nominate anyone, it would be Jeno – his drifting skills were no joke. “As I was saying, it’s Taeyong’s direct wish that our special snowflake represents us in the competition,” Lucas specified, and the boys looked at me the way Jaehyun did – with hatred and disgust.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” I chuckled drily, but the boys didn’t change their attitudes.
No way! Taeyong couldn’t… he wouldn’t. Well... I expected him to respect me after what I had done, but this… it was too much. Some drivers worked their entire lives mastering their techniques to participate, and right now, I felt as if I had my chance served on a silver platter. The boys must’ve felt the same way.
I deserved to participate, but Jeno and Jisung did as well. I wouldn’t mind sitting this one out. Their bullying was giving me a headache as it was, another reason to pick on me was the last thing I needed at the moment.
“It can’t be,” Jaemin stated, too perplexed to voice a longer statement.
“Well… it must be, Taeyong’s orders,” Lucas added with a smirk on his sexy lips, ignoring all complaints. “Guys, behave, it’s not my decision to make. You can always try next year,” he tried to console the whining boys, but it didn’t seem to work. If anything, it only multiplied the anger they felt towards me.
“It’s impossible,” I muttered, but the boys didn’t pay any attention to what I was trying to say, “I’m pretty sure it’s not final. I’ll talk to him, I think I can change his mind,” I continued, but once again my words were muffled by the loud white noise of complaining.
“You can’t just call him,” Lucas remarked, trying to remind me of my position in the hierarchy. Now, when I was a valid member of the organization, I had to follow the rules, and Lucas was my superior to whom I was obligated to report everything back. Talking to Taeyong would be highly unprofessional; I had to stick to the code.
“Can you try to persuade him?” Jisung asked, full of hope.
Lucas laughed at Jisung’s question as if it was one of the funniest things he heard in years.
“To be honest, I don’t give a fuck who’s gonna ride this year,” Lucas started truthfully, and I gasped at the harshness of his words. He didn’t sugarcoat nor beat around the bush. “It’s Taeyong’s decision, and I am in no place to question his choice, so beat it.”
His words successfully shut everyone up; Lucas was mean and straight-forward, but it had to be done. Perhaps his leading skills were a little bit rough around the edges, but they managed to get the work done.
“You,” Lucas exclaimed, looking at me. “Meet me here before the race; we’ll pick up the car,” he added, turning around, leaving me alone with the boys, so they could take out all frustrations on me.
“Fantastic.”
***
As expected, the boys, Jeno and Jisung in particular, were giving me hell. It was obvious they were unhappy with Taeyong’s decision, yet I shouldn’t be the receiving end of their relentless bullying. If I could, I’d pay Taeyong a visit and persuade him to change his mind, but just like Lucas said, I was on the very bottom of the gang hierarchy.
At this point, I’d call it quits. Unfortunately, I was too far in the game to bow out. Right now, I could only endure their harassment in hopes of quickly getting promoted, leaving them far behind. It wouldn’t be the most challenging thing I had done for the gang’s sake.
It was a Thursday night. Within 24 hours, I would compete in the most infamous race of the year, and I was beyond mortified. I had drunk half a dozen mugs of double lemon balm, yet the stress was still eating me from the inside out.
It was oddly quiet. Usually, at this time of night, something was going on, but tonight, it was silent. Without any white noise, one could hear a pin drop.
Everything suggested I was alone in the car repair shop. Having slammed down the hood, I wiped my hands in the cloth and looked around. Where was everybody? Did they forget to add me to their group chat? Did they go out for a drink without telling me?
I strolled through their stations, yet I didn’t find anybody. They really left me behind. That wasn’t cool. We weren’t best friends, but I deserved to know if there was a staff outing. Maybe this time around, I’d pass, given the plans I had for tomorrow, but any other time, I’d be down to have a beer with them.
Perhaps, they would warm up to me if we could spend some quality time together.
Once again, I looked around the space and decided to call it a day. There was nothing urgent that I had to finish, so I closed up. I really wanted to come back home, relax, and psych myself up for the upcoming race.
Yawning, I slowly made my way to my car, which was parked two blocks away from the car repair shop. Lucas had suggested it was for the best if the boys didn’t see my vehicle, since it would definitely become another reason to pick on me. Though I didn’t care what they thought of me, I ultimately decided to follow Lucas’ advice. He was my superior for a reason.
The narrow street was barely lit, yet I made my way through it with ease. I had the route memorized by heart, even though I wasn’t completely familiar with this city district.
Once the car conjured in my line of vision, I reached into my backpack, fishing for the keys.
Unfortunately, before I managed to find them, somebody grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me onto the ground. Stupefied, I looked up and saw half a dozen of persons, each of whom clad in a black hoodie and a face mask.
I was being mugged in a dark alley.
The survival instincts kicked in. The adrenaline rush hit me in a matter of seconds. Just like mothers who can lift cars to save their children, I was in a combat mode, ready to fight off all of them. I was outnumbered, but when driven on hormones, I thought I stood a chance to defend myself and kick their asses.
Quickly, I got back on my feet and took a few steps to the back to distance myself from the attackers and strategize my next move. My first idea was to run away, but that wasn’t going to work out. Two men with crowbars crept out of the shadows, depriving me of the only escape route I could think of.
“OK, think,” I whispered under my breath. There were seven of them, two of whom had crowbars, while one of them pulled out a knife. Seven against one, it didn’t sound fair. Back in the day, I had taken some self-defense lessons, but it was a long time ago. If I had some skills unconsciously memorized, they would surely be rusty.
Perhaps, I could bullshit my way out of it.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, but none of the men even flinched. They were frozen in their spots, probably waiting for the best moment to attack. “I don’t have any money on me, but I can give you my wheels,” I proposed, but once again, I didn’t get any reaction. “It’s a measly car, but I got it checked by a mechanic a few days ago. It’s as good as new.”
It was like talking to a wall. I could run my mouth, yet I would never receive any reply.
Plan A didn’t work out.
They weren’t cooperative enough for me to implement plan B.
I had no choice but to go with plan C, which consisted of fighting back, hoping they wouldn’t beat me to death. It wasn’t the most optimistic scenario, but it’s what my mind came up with after doing the math. It wasn’t a fair fight, what were the odds of me winning?
Close to zero.
When I was about to pick which guy I should attack first, the one in front of me made a cutting throat gesture. It did freak me out, but on cue, I ran up to the one with the crowbar and kicked him in the nuts before he managed to smack me with the metal. Instantly, he crumbled down on his knees, dropping the weapon on the ground.
It was my opportunity to try to even the chances.
Everything happened so fast. One second I was wiggling my body from side to side in an attempt to dodge the attack, while a moment later, I was swinging the crowbar like a baseball bat. In all honesty, I wasn’t that bad, I managed to omit most of their punches.
Unfortunately, there were too many of them. At this point, I knew I wouldn’t win. The least I could do was to try to minimize the damage.
Though I could feel a couple of bruises on my thighs forming up and my blood oozing from my shoulder, I gathered enough strength to swing the crowbar at the man, hitting him straight on the neck, knocking him out. As soon as the man’s head collided with the ground, everybody stopped in their tracks, trying to register what just happened.
They couldn’t believe that a woman successfully fought back. It was a small victory, though. Six more angry men wanted to mug me. Or rape me. Or worse.
“You bitch,” one of them yelled, going towards me with a knife as if he wanted to gut me.
I saw everything in slow motion. He ran to me, screaming, and I tightened my grip on the crowbar, getting ready to knock him unconscious, too.
Before he managed to get close enough for me to hit him, we all got blinded by the lights. There was another car in the alley, scaring the men away. In an instant, they picked up their stunned friend and ran away, disappearing in the distance.
My vision couldn’t accommodate this amount of light, so I couldn’t precisely see my savior. Unfortunately, I was unable to see the person behind the wheel, but the vehicle looked like a Ford. Too bad it drove off before I could have a better look.
Worrying the thugs might return, I limped to my car and locked myself in. My pulse was slowly getting back to normal, and the adrenaline was wearing off, making me feel the pain. Each bruise and cut was hurting me, but I inhaled, flooring the accelerator.
***
When I woke up around noon, I was sore all over. Though I had taken some painkillers and put on ointment on the fragile skin, I still felt like shit. I wasn’t the best at treating wounds, and I discovered this fact about myself in the worst timing ever.
How was I supposed to win the most meaningful race of the year when I felt excruciating pain when I had to stretch my arm? How was I supposed to operate the gearbox in this state?
By the time I had to leave my apartment, I felt only slightly better. High on meds, I drove carefully to the car repair shop, expecting Lucas to already be there. It was typical Lucas – giving vague instructions, yet at the same time, demanding precision, or in this case, punctuality.
Gingerly, I parked the vehicle outside the garage, noticing Lucas leaned against the wall, smoking what I hope was just a cigarette. Putting a smile on my face, I undid the seatbelt and exited the car, waving at my superior.
“What the hell are you wearing? Are you going to a race or Lazytown?” Lucas yelled, amused by my outfit. I could bet it wasn’t a typical outfit for street-racing.
Tonight, I chose to wear a pastel pink wig that reached down to my shoulders, a mini dress in the same shade of pink, and a pair of white combat shoes. I had my reasons to wear this type of clothing, though.
First of all – diversion; I hoped the other contestants would underestimate me upon seeing my eccentric outfit. Looks might be deceiving, and at this point, I couldn’t wait to bask in the glory of their judging stares. In this outfit, no one would think of me as a threat.
Second of all – bruises; no one paid them any attention because all the curious gazes were focused on extravagant clothes. Moreover, I could apply another layer of ointment if needed because the skimpy outfit allowed me easy access to my bare skin.
Third of all – Taeyong; pink was his favorite color and it matched his current hairstyle. It was a bold statement to demonstrate whose gang I was representing in the race.
“The outfit is going to serve its purpose, so let me live,” I murmured, not in the mood for friendly banter. Lucas was ridiculously hot, and I respected him, but right now, I didn’t feel like joking around. “What car do you have for me?”
Lucas pulled the sliding doors to the side, letting me in, following right behind me. Though I tried to control my walk, Lucas quickly caught on.
“What’s happened? Why are you walking like that?” Lucas asked in concern, and I told him everything about the men, their attempt to mug me, and the savior. I didn’t even fail to mention how I knocked one of the guys out with a powerful hit in the neck. “I don’t really think it was some random dudes,” he concluded, taking a closer look at my bruises and cuts.
“Huh?” I mused in confusion.
“I think someone wanted to make sure you’re not participating in the race,” Lucas stated. I creased my eyebrows, unable to make sense out of his suspicion. It was ridiculous. Though I knew how to race, my name wasn’t widely known in the illegal underground racing circle. “It can’t be a coincidence you’re getting attacked one night before the event.”
Well… Lucas had a point.
“Can you race?” Lucas inquired, his voice coated in worry.
I did not expect that, but it felt nice. Lucas, being my superior, looked after me, and it was the first time I felt like a legitimate member of the gang.
“I’ve taken a lot of pills, I can pull through,” I stated, smiling half-heartedly.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed, though I could already feel the medication wear off. This insignificant setback wasn’t going to stop me. I had something to prove.
“Alright then,” Lucas said, following me to the back. “Taeyong has personally chosen these cars. You can pick any of them,” he added, and I looked at the beautiful machines in amazement. “Oh, before I forget, he also said you get to keep it if you win.”
“For real?” I asked, and Lucas nodded, smiling at my reaction. “Sweet.”
Now, I really had to win.
Taeyong had selected three vehicles for me to use: BMW M2, Toyota Supra, and Porsche 718 Cayman. The three of them were white and shiny, and it was a real dilemma.
“Tough choice,” I whispered, struggling to make the ultimate decision. Each vehicle had incredible features, and it was impossible to pick the best one. It felt like having a birthday on the same day as Christmas.
“Be quick, we’ve got to go,” Lucas urged me, tapping his foot against the concrete floor impatiently. “Make up your mind, woman.”
“OK, fine, fine, let’s go with Toyota,” I answered, and Lucas put his hand into the pocket of his jeans, fished out three sets of keys, and threw one for me to catch.
“Let’s go, then,” he added, quickly making his way to the passenger seat.
“How does it feel like to win such a race?” I inquired, breaking the silence inside the car. I was speeding to the abandoned airport, while Lucas was texting with somebody, completely ignoring me. Perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bond with him, but I couldn’t help my curiosity. Three years ago, being the youngest participant, Lucas had won the race, and I really wanted to know how it felt to make history.
Who knew? Maybe I’d be the first woman to win this race this year.
“Fine, I guess,” Lucas answered dismissively, not wanting to engage in the conversation.
“Oh,” I sighed, deciding not to pry further. We would have other opportunities to talk about it.
Once we arrived, Lucas told me to park the vehicle on the start line. The race would start in an hour, and until then, I had to mingle with other drivers and make my presence known. It was time for the rich men to make their bets.
“Hmm… that’s strange,” Lucas commented when I turned off the engine. “Taeyong’s here.”
“Is that strange?”
“He hasn’t attended such an event ever since he had won it five years ago,” Lucas explained, and I nodded my head, registering the new information. When Lucas put it like that, it really seemed out of character. “Interesting,” he added, deep in thought.
When Lucas got out of the car, I searched for Taeyong in the crowd. Thankfully, it wasn’t that difficult. This time around, Taeyong was wearing a green tracksuit set, thick-rimmed black Fendi sunglasses, and a pair of simple white sneakers. With his pink-ish hair and a custom-made Dior purse loosely hanging off his shoulder, he did not fit in this picture packed with gangers. Taeyong looked like a stray 4-year-old who got lost in a dangerous alley.
Following Lucas’ example, I exited the vehicle, and leaned against the hood, posing as a confident yet quirky driver. Though I expected everyone to underestimate my skills, deep inside, I wished to be recognized as a serious competition.
Looking around, I stared at Taeyong and deliberately ignored Jaehyun’s death glares. Even from afar, I could sense he hated my guts. I suspected I was the reason why Taeyong was here right now, and Jaehyun was unmistakably displeased by it.
With my eyes locked on Taeyong, I noticed Lucas joined him and whispered something into his ear. Whatever Lucas had told him, it made Taeyong visibly angry.
“Attention racers,” a female voice spoke through the speakers, obtaining everyone’s attention. “The race shall begin in thirty minutes. We ask all racers to pick up the GPS device box at the judge’s lounge. Thank you for your attention and good luck.”
Every participant had to install the device in one’s car. Once set in the vehicle, the racer could see this year’s route and all checkpoints. The fastest one to clear all the checkpoints and come back to the airport would win the competition.
Following all the instructions, I got ready for the race. In a few minutes, twelve cars would leave the airport in an attempt to chase their dreams of fame and success.
I was sitting comfortably in my seat, and though on the outside, I seemed calm, the courtesy of painkillers, I was freaking out internally. I didn’t even notice someone knock on the window, making me jump in shock.
“Jesus Christ, Lucas, you scared the shit out of me,” I cursed, rolling down the window.
“I just wanted to wish you good luck,” he added, smiling genuinely. “I spoke with Taeyong, and he would like to talk to you after the race in his mansion.”
“Oh.”
And with that, Lucas walked away, letting me relax some more before the race. I just had enough time to turn on my playlist, which consisted of Britney Spears’ biggest hits. It always helped me to uplift my mood, and I really needed that.
“Three,” the woman counted out loud, and all participants turned on their engines.
“Two.”
“One.”
At once, all the cars surged forward, and people cheered enthusiastically, not even muffling the loud engine roars.
The route had seven checkpoints in total, and since the race was called the color festival, each stop was named after the rainbow color. There was no specified order in which the contestants ought to clear them, yet most of them chose to drive east, toward the indigo checkpoint.
I, on the other hand, decided to head west. The more drivers in one area, the more chances of dirty tricks, and I didn’t want to end up getting pushed out of the route into the gutter.
Only four racers mirrored my actions, and out of the five of us, I was leading. With ease, I cleared the green checkpoint, but one Britney song later, the driver of the red 2020 Lexus SC caught up to me, driving straight into my back left lights, making me lose control of the vehicle for a second. Thankfully, I managed to get a hold of the situation before I drove into the dangerous turn.
This bastard scratched my car and cleared the yellow checkpoint before me.
I couldn’t let him get away with it.
Flooring the accelerator, I quickly found myself on the right side of the Lexus, staring at the driver. I recognized him in an instant. It was Felix, and he was infamous for dangerous driving. It didn’t matter how many drivers he had to send to the hospital to win the race.
Perhaps, it would be reasonable to let him be, but I was high on meds, and the logical solution fled my mind before I managed to memorize it. The only sensible reaction I could muster in the heat of the moment was hitting him before he hit me again.
Sticking my tongue out for Felix to see, I abruptly turned to the right, pushing him out of the road. Unfortunately, I didn’t hit him hard enough. Before I drove into another sharp turn, I saw him in the rearview mirror. He was back on the lane, trying to catch up with the rest of the participants.
“Too high, can’t come down, losing my mind, spinning ‘round and round, do you feel me now?” I sang along with Britney, driving through the blue checkpoint.
I was almost halfway through the race, and it was about the time when I ran out of luck. I could hear a loud siren ringing in the distance, followed by red and blue lights. It couldn’t be a good sign. Competing against lunatics was challenging, yet on top of that, I had to lose the police.
My first thought was to let the other drivers catch up to me, and then hope the police would chase them, but I quickly realized it was a dumb idea. The racers would out-speed the police cruisers anyway; it was stupid to purposefully slow down.
The next checkpoint was near, and it was my priority. I’d deal with the police by the end of the race. Of course, only if the police cruisers could handle such speed. It was doubtful, but I chose not to underestimate them.
“Fuck, it can’t be,” I cursed when I noticed the red Lexus again. “He is stubborn,” I added, once again flooring the accelerator, trying to keep as much distance from Felix as possible. This car would be mine if I won, and I didn’t want any more damage.
Then, a few seconds later, another car appeared a couple of hundred meters behind me.
Too bad the police were too incompetent to catch them. The sirens were still ringing in the distance, so it only meant they didn’t give up yet. I didn’t think they stood a chance against any of the sports cars in the race, but it was admirable that they still tried.
The red checkpoint was a couple meters ahead, and I reasoned I needed to step up my game. In order to win, I had to think out of the box. I had to do something they wouldn’t dare. I couldn’t play it safe if I really wanted to win.
Having cleared the red checkpoint, I made a U-turn without slowing down. If it wasn’t for the breaks, the force would pull me out of the lane, sending me flying off the cliff. Felix and the other guy were visibly confused when I started driving right at them.
Going over 180 km/h, I passed them and the police cruiser before I made an abrupt turn, driving through run-down, abandoned properties. Very few people knew this short-cut, and I hoped it would give me the advantage I desperately needed.
With no problem, I cleared the orange checkpoint.
Only two more to go, I told myself, trying to uplift my mood.
The violet checkpoint resembled a war zone. Three cars were sitting on the side of the road, all scratched and damaged. Compared to this psycho who had done it, Felix was a harmless kitten. Thankfully, he hadn’t chosen to follow the same path as me. It made me sick to think I could be inside of one of these wrecked cars.
Or it was the meds overload in my system.
I couldn’t be sure.
Having passed the final checkpoint, I noticed a sports car. It was heading the same direction, so I concluded it was one of my rivals. The neon green Porsche Boxter was behind me, but it was catching up incredibly fast.
I had to get my shit together, or I was going to lose.
I could see the finishing line in the distance. Unfortunately, the green Porsche was right there, on my left side. Neither of us wanted to lose, and almost at the same time, we turned, smashing against each other. Sparks were flying everywhere, the sound of scratching metal was ringing loudly, yet no one dared to let go.
If I didn’t push him out of my way, we would tie, and this result was unacceptable. With my foot on the accelerator, I turned the steering wheel to the right as hard as I could. The vehicle barely moved to the side, yet it was still making progress.
Maybe it was pure luck, but the Porsche ran over something on the road, and its driver lost control of the car. It was my time to shine, so once again I turned to the right. The vehicles made a 90-degree turn, which resulted in me being the first one to cross the finishing line.
Oh my god, I won.
These guys could suck it because I beat them!
When I got out of the car, Taeyong and Jaehyun were gone. Lucas was the only familiar face in the crowd, and he actually ran up to me to congratulate me. “You won,” Lucas said, beaming. His smile quickly faded away upon seeing how wrecked the car was. “It was a new car,” he cried, calculating the damage.
“It’s still new,” I remarked, but Lucas didn’t find it amusing. Well… I could relate. After all, it was my car. I knew the second the painkillers wear off, I was going to in pain because of what I did to the vehicle. Hopefully, Doyoung would help me get it fixed.
A lady in a deep-cut bikini and sun-kissed tan walked up to me to hand me a bag of cash and a bottle of champagne.
“Everybody, make some noise for this year’s winner,” she screamed into the microphone, making the crowd go crazy.
I was smiling like a lunatic. People were cheering, and it was all for me.
Though I was craving champagne, I knew it wasn’t the best idea to drink it. The pills mixed with alcohol would kill me, so I opted for an alternative celebration. Swinging my arm, I threw the bottle at the car, smashing it against the scratched doors.
“Christening the car seemed appropriate,” I commented when I saw Lucas trying to process what I just did. “At this point, one more tear doesn’t make a difference.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Lucas said lifelessly, staring with concern at the vehicle. “You better go. Don’t keep Taeyong waiting. He’s not a patient person.”
***
Having parked in front of Taeyong’s big ass mansion, I made my way to the main entrance and rang the bell. The doors opened a few seconds later, and Jaehyun looked at me from head to toe, stepping to the side, letting me in.
It was my first time in Taeyong’s palace, and the interior was breathtaking. Everything looked expensive, and everyone must’ve felt the wow effect during their first visit. Though I knew he had a shit load of money, witnessing his wealth first hand was an unforgettable experience.
“Stay here, I’ll get Taeyong,” Jaehyun ordered, and I smiled sheepishly, not wanting to mess with someone who could easily murder me. “Don’t touch anything,” Jaehyun added as he turned around, catching me red-handed on trying to brush my fingers against the sculpture, which was set on a coffee table.
Two minutes later, Taeyong joined me in the spacious living room.
“Lucas told me you won,” he spoke as he plopped down onto a leather couch, putting his hands into the pocket of his disgusting green tracksuit. “Good job.”
“Is that why you wanted to see me? To congratulate me?” I asked out loud, wanting to smack myself the moment the words left my mouth. Of course, Taeyong didn’t want to congratulate me; he had invited me to his mansion before the race even began.
“No,” he replied shortly, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to forget this incident. “You know what I will never tolerate?” Taeyong asked, and I sighed in thought.
“I don’t know… Hmm… it’s a wild guess, but is it Hawaiian pizza?”
“No,” Taeyong denied, smirking at my random guess. “I will never tolerate treason, doll.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant. I hadn’t done anything to betray him, yet he still somehow found something to punish me for. No way, it wasn’t possible. Had he figured out how I really had stolen Yuta’s car?
Fuck.
“Come on, doll. Let me show you,” Taeyong whispered, standing up. With his eyes on me, he smiled and stretched his hand. Anxiously, I let him hold his palm around mine as he led me to the basement.
It wasn’t a good omen.
Despite all of my achievements, Taeyong was going to kill me.
“The pink really suits you,” Taeyong spoke out of the blue when we slowly made our way downstairs. “I really like this hair on you,” he added, playing with the ends of my wig.
“Thanks, I was hoping you’d like it,” I answered, trying not to show how intimidated I was.
“Oh, I do, doll,” he smirked, pushing a pair of big pine doors open, stepping to the side, letting me in first.
Inside the room were seven men tied to the chairs with a piece of cloth wrapped around their eyes. Since there was only one light bulb, it took me a while to recognize them.
They were my colleagues from the garage. What the hell were they doing here? Why had Taeyong imprisoned them? What had they done? It was them who had betrayed Taeyong? No, it didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t have invited me if it was about them.
“I don’t understand…” I commented, my eyes focused on the tied men in front of me. The moment when I looked at Jisung, I saw a wound on his neck.
Then it hit me.
It was them.
They had tried to kill me last night.
“As I said, I cannot tolerate treason,” Taeyong voiced as he began to rip the makeshift blindfolds off their faces. “Working against the gang is unacceptable, and you dared to hurt one of your own,” he spoke, and I trembled, afraid to witness what’s going to happen next. “Who came up with this stupid plan?”
Silence.
“Alright then,” Taeyong concluded through gritted teeth. It was the first time I saw him this angry, and I was scared. I’d shit my pants if I were the reason for his wrath. “Come here, doll,” he ordered, wanting me to join him. “Pick your weapon,” he told me, and I looked at him in confusion. What did I need a weapon for?
I looked to the right and saw pegboard tool storage on the wall. It was an impressive collection of torture weapons, and Taeyong wanted me to use them on the traitors. It was wrong on so many levels, and I really didn’t want to do it, but the perspective of wronging Taeyong seemed even worse. I would rather hurt them than let Taeyong hurt me.
“We don’t have a whole night, doll,” Taeyong urged me, and I grabbed the first thing which was in my arms’ reach. It happened to be a hammer. “Excellent choice; who should we punish first?” Taeyong asked, resting his arm over my shoulder, smiling like a maniac. Without any doubt, it was to bring him a lot of pleasure.
“I don’t know…”
“Alright, then,” Taeyong smiled in amusement before he started to sing the eeny, meeny, miny, moe counting rhyme to select the first victim. At first, I didn’t look, but once Taeyong stopped singing, I opened my eyes to see that his finger was pointing at Haechan.
“Do what you gotta do, doll,” Taeyong ordered happily, leaning against the wall, making sure he had the best view at the scene unfolding in front of him.
I wanted to cry, but I tried my best not to. As a part of a gang, it was inappropriate to show vulnerability. I didn’t want Taeyong to revoke my membership, especially when the only way to leave the gang was through excruciating death.
“Where should I start?” I asked myself under my breath, having no idea how torturing worked. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way of inflicting the least amount of pain, while maintaining the expected level of Taeyong’s satisfaction.
Having closed my eyes, I swung my arm, hitting Haechan’s palm with the hammer, making him groan in pain. “You bitch,” he cursed, and I repeated the blow a couple of times until his hand looked like a smashed pomegranate.
Haechan was yelling in pain, Taeyong was chuckling in amusement, and I tried my best to refrain myself from crying. Though I didn’t particularly like Haechan, and he had been a real pain in the ass with the bullying, he didn’t deserve such punishment. How was he supposed to work at the garage without his dominant hand? His career was basically over. It was a dick move to attack me, and though I was awfully petty, the punishment was too severe.
“Who came up with this stupid plan?” Taeyong questioned again, yet none of the boys dared to speak. Not even Haechan, who was in a tremendous amount of pain. “Here, hold this,” he added, handing me a baseball bat, “I got bored of the hammer.”
Obediently, I grabbed the baseball bat and hit Haechan in the stomach until he started coughing blood on my pink dress. “What the fuck?” I cursed, getting angry at the minor inconvenience.
“Stop it, you’ll kill him,” Jisung yelled, trying to shimmy himself out of the ties. “I did it. I told them to beat her up. She didn’t deserve to ride in this race,” he carried on, and Taeyong sighed, walking up to Jisung nonchalantly with his hands loosely tucked in the pockets.
“It wasn’t that hard, was it?” Taeyong asked as he bent a little and caressed Jisung’s chin. “I really appreciate your honesty,” he added before he pulled out a gun and shot him in the head.
It was hard to process, but he really did shoot Jisung.
“Good job, doll,” Taeyong congratulated me with a smile before he fired his gun once again, this time shooting through Haechan’s forehead. “What? He was useless without his hand anyway,” he commented upon seeing my shocked reaction.
“You’re not gonna kill them, are you?” I quietly asked as I leaned against Taeyong’s frame, clinging to his chest. None of them deserved to die, yet I hoped Taeyong would spare the remaining five.
“No, I think it was enough for them to learn their lesson,” Taeyong revealed, and I sighed in relief, glad the bloodshed was over. It was the first time I saw somebody get killed, and it was a morbid sight. I wouldn’t mentally handle the situation if he decided to murder them all.
“Can we go now? The blood makes me sick,” I confessed, and Taeyong once again wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulled me to his side, and led outside. Surprisingly, regardless of what I had seen a while ago, his hug felt genuine. “I have a question, though.”
“Shoot.”
“How did you know it was them?”
Taeyong smirked, “who do you think was in that car that scared them off?”
“You?” I asked, cocking up my eyebrow, trying to process the newfound information.
“No, what I would be doing there?” Taeyong denied, making me even more confused. “I told Jaehyun to pick you up and bring to my mansion. However, when he saw you were attacked, he drove off and hunted them down.”
“I guess I owe him big time.”
#taeyong smut#neosmutcollective#nct smut#nct angst#taeyong angst#taeyong#lee taeyong#mafia boss taeyong#nct scenario#taeyong scenario#nct fanfic#nct fanfiction#taeyong fanfic#taeyong fanfiction
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Friday Special #14
March 19th, 2021
Hello friendos, and welcome back to another Friday Special!
So with the recent announcement of Pokemon Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl for the Nintendo Switch as well as Pokemon Legends: Arceus, for this episode, we’ll be taking a look into the original titles of Pokemon Diamond, Pearl and Platinum for the DS and how they forever changed the Pokemon world.
The year is 2004.
The Pokemon movie Destiny Deoxys was just released in Japan and it’s the newest Pokemon movie to be released at that time. The Pokemon anime would still be in Gen 3 (Ruby, Sapphire, and Emerald) for a few more years.
The film features a new Pokemon that was never seen before: Munchlax, who was the first revealed Pokemon for the next Generation, Gen 4 (Diamond, Pearl, Platinum, Heartgold, and Soulsilver).
Munchlax wasn’t the only Pokemon teased before Gen 4′s release, however.
That following year in 2005, Lucario and the Mystery of Mew was released and it prominently featured several new Pokemon to the gaming public such as Lucario, Weavile, Mime Jr., and Bonsly. This now was five new Pokemon revealed to the gaming public.
Then came 2006, the crunch year.
Pokémon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea was released and it introduced more new Pokemon in the forms of Mantyke, Buizel, Chatot and the Legendary Manaphy. Also revealed that year were the first of Gen 4 Legendaries Dialga and Palkia for the new games’ box art.
In the end, Pokemon Diamond and Pearl were officially released in Japan on September 28, 2006, in North America on April 22, 2007, in Australia on June 21, 2007 and in Europe on June 27, 2007. Diamond and Pearl would also be the very first Pokemon games to be released in South Korea on Valentine’s Day in 2008, setting the precedent for future Pokemon games to be released in the region.
Diamond and Pearl were the first Pokemon games not only to begin a new Generation but also on a brand-new console, the Nintendo DS. In order to capitalize on the new system of choice and its capabilities, Diamond and Pearl were the very first Pokemon games to utilize 2.5D graphics (the effect can best be seen in various objects like buildings and the train in the Great Marsh in Pastoria City). Speaking of sprites, new and never-before-seen trainer sprites were added as well to ever-growing list of types of trainers. The list of Pokemon expanded as well, thanks to the addition of 107 new Pokemon exclusive to the Sinnoh region.
As the introduction goes for both games, you are greeted by Professor Rowan and you have the choice of either going as Lucas or Dawn, though the player does have the option to create their name for their chosen character. Their rival, Barry, also can be named by the player like in previous versions.
The game starts with your character watching a broadcast about Johto’s Lake of Rage and its elusive Red Gyarados. You then meet up at Barry’s house, who is also your best friend in addition to being your rival, and the pair go off to Lake Verity to search for Legendary Pokemon. There, you are greeted by Professor Rowan once more along with his assistant and they accidentally leave behind their briefcase and before the pair can retrieve it and return it properly, they are attacked by two random Starly and the player has to pick one out of three Pokemon to fight them with and succeed. Once the battle is concluded, the assistant comes back to retrieve the suitcase, aware of the Pokemon being used and leaves the pair with their new chosen companions. Back home, the player’s mother gives them a pair of Running Shoes to traverse faster across the land and instructs them to meet with the Pokemon Professor in Sandgem Town. Upon arriving, Prof. Rowan bestows upon you the Pokedex, sending you on a quest to retrieve data for the Pokedex of every Pokemon in Sinnoh.
Thus, the Adventure begins.
In the games, you face Battles, attain Gym Badges and work your way to defeating the Elite Four as well as the Pokemon League Champion. Along the way, you have to defeat Team Galactic, an evil organization who want to erase the entire universe in order to create a new, more perfect universe, and they need the power of the Legendaries in order to accomplish this massive and frightening goal. By defeating them, your home region of Sinnoh, and the universe at large, will be safe.
Some of the features to make a comeback in a newer fashion was the day/night system first introduced in Gen 2 (Gold, Silver, and Crystal), Pokemon Contests from Gen 3 (Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, Leaf-Green and Fire-Red) and even a new battle system which allowed for a more versatile set of moves for a Pokemon but ran into trouble with older fans as the attacks were now labeled as either physical or special instead of just by type alone.
The pair of games were met with commercial and critical success upon release with particular praise being given to the soundtrack, story, the inclusion of Wi-Fi, the voice chat function. Unfortunately, it landed criticism with the graphics with IGN being quoted as saying “everything still has that Game Boy look to it” (Which in retrospect made the games more appealing as they still appeared timeless without looking too dated). Famitsu gave it a 35 out of 40.
With this massive success, there was a growing need to continue the Generation.
In response, Game Freak created Pokemon Platinum, an enhanced version of the Diamond and Pearl.
Pokemon Platinum was released in Japan and Taiwan on September 13, 2008, in North America on March 22, 2009, in Australia on May 14, 2009, and in South Korea on July 2, 2009. Like its predecessors, it also received high praise, and was both commercially and critically successful.
There were a few notable differences between the original Diamond and Pearl versions and Platinum:
On the TV in Twinleaf Town, instead of a special about the Red Gyarados, the special instead talks about Prof. Rowan’s arrival back to Sinnoh from Kanto.
The outfits of the main characters change to be more suited to a colder environment.
Instead of recovering a suitcase in the forest and fighting Starly, you meet up with Prof. Rowan and receive your Pokemon at that time.
The sprites of important Trainers (like Gym Leaders or the Pokemon League) have their own individual animations like the Pokemon do.
Instead of facing either Dialga/Palkia depending on the version, your Legendary Battle will be with Giratina instead and it will be down in the Distortion World (more on that in a moment).
Platinum also expanded on previously introduced features such as:
Allowing up to 20 people at one time in the Wi-Fi Plaza (it was only a few people before)
Allowing your starter Pokemon to be admitted into Amity Square in Hearthrome City (in Diamond and Pearl, only a select number of “cute” Pokemon were considered)
Players can now challenge other Trainers in certain Pokemon Centers (first game in the mainline series to do this)
Faster animations with HM Moves such as Surf and during Battles
to name a few.
In regards to new Pokemon, 59 Pokemon were added to the Sinnoh Pokedex, rounding the number of entries to 210, including Legendary Pokemon. Legendary Pokemon like Shaymin were also added and other Pokemon like Rotom were enhanced either with new abilities or new forms.
So about that Distortion World bit from earlier...
For those unfamiliar, the Distortion World is only available in Platinum and it was how the player fought Giratina. The Distortion World level in particular was considered impressive at the time for the Pokemon community as it utilized 2.5D graphics that almost looked 3D.
How did they do this?
They allowed the character to move up walls in order to complete the current level as there were multiple levels.
Here is a video of the entire Distortion World walkthrough (the video is a little gritty as it was published way back in January of 2009 and it’s the original Japanese version):
youtube
At this time, this was considered insane for Pokemon in 2008/9 and it was one of Platinum’s biggest selling points. Although it may look a little dated with today’s newer titles, this the was bridge that connected GBA-styled graphics to more modern 3D ones.
So with that, Generation 4 was well underway and these games, as well as the ones that followed by the names of Heartgold and Soulsilver (a topic for another time), are still remembered fondly by fans to this day.
Thoughts From The Head
When I first got into Pokemon, I got into Pearl, making me a Gen 4 kid. I have very fond memories playing this game with my friends back in elementary school as they either had Pearl like I did or Diamond. When Platinum dropped, it was the hottest game to get on DS and I remember everyone and their mother clamoring to get a copy of it. I never did because I was broke at the time, so I wound up having enough to get a copy of Soulsilver, which I just rediscovered the Pokewalker (remember those?).
I remember the Distortion World bit like it was yesterday. A friend of mine had gotten far enough in the game to get to that point and I remember all of us crowding around behind him and glued to the screen as he traversed into this strange, new world.
We were blown away to say the least.
We also utilized the crap out of those Action Replay devices (which I used to max out both the Sinnoh and the International Pokedexes as well as the inventory), making the Champion Fight with Cynthia almost a breeze with the maxed out Rare Candies we had to boost the levels to Level 100 for the entire party. Now a couple friends of mine had managed to even hack the Platinum game to not get the special event Pokemon like Shaymin and Arceus without the special event in question, they were even able to clone Pokemon as well as steal other Trainers’ Pokemon outright with no issues (still not sure how they pulled those off).
Thanks to the announcements of the Gen 4 remasters and a mutual of mine playing Pokemon Diamond for a YouTube stream via Desmune emulator, I rediscovered my Pearl game and now I’m currently playing my second run! As of this post, I am about to take on Fantine of Hearthrome City so wish me luck!
Here’s the photos of my copy of Pearl!
I was in the process of leveling up my Chatot so she ain’t looking too good right now.
So do y’all think about all of this? Share your thoughts in the comments!
Thank you for reading!
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Woo Do-Hwan: Special Interview with Hanryu Pia – July 2020
@staidwaters - Thank you SO MUCH for rescuing my first turd of a translation from whatever overly-literal/not-fluent hell it came from. This here is a master editor!!!
@ibelongtomousse - And thank you for indulging my late-night freakouts while I tried to make this happen!
We asked Woo Do-Hwan about his experiences filming "My Country," which was his first historical drama. His character, Seon-ho, is the son of a noble family, who is discriminated against for being illegitimate and who obtained an irreplaceable friend in Yang Se-jong. Audiences were captivated by Seon-ho's low voice and the way Woo Do-Hwan made his gaze express the many tragedies the character had endured. During filming, he co-starred with his idol Jang Hyuk.





In Woo Do-Hwan’s first attempt at a historical drama, he co-starred with an admired senior:
WDH: It’s a great honor to work with him. Ten years ago, I was watching Jan Hyuk-sunbae’s work when I first started to have this dream, that I wanted to become an actor like that.
Starting with acting a minor role in the sitcom “Come, Come, Absolutely Come”, “My Country” was Woo Do-hwan’s first challenge at a historical drama. As a long-time big fan of Jang Hyuk, finally his wish to be Jang Hyuk’s co-star was fulfilled.
WDH: I especially like the historical dramas that Jang Hyuk-sunbae appears in. I knew that sooner or later I wanted to do a historical drama, and I’m really happy that I stumbled on this amazing work. Being pictured in the same camera angles as Jang Hyuk-sunbae was really exciting; my heart was pounding out of nervousness. I put more effort into preparing for this than I ever had before. I learned that Jang Hyuk-sunbae is a very passionate actor who thinks more deeply on each scene than anyone else, and I received a lot of advice from him in scenes in which we acted together. Before I became an actor, I learned a lot from Jang Hyuk-sunbae, then after I became an actor, he taught me so many things as his co-star.
In this work, Woo Do-Hwan played Seon-ho, a young man who was born into a noble family but who was discriminated against because his mother was a slave. He attempts to become a military official to work towards his dream of a new country where people would not be bound by a caste system, but his father's manipulations tear him and his best friend Hwi apart, and the girl he likes, Hee-jae, blames him for it.
WDH: Seon-ho is the loneliest and saddest character compared to any other. Every time I see him, my heart aches— that was the side of Seon-ho that I wanted to express. Nothing goes his way but even in the midst of his struggles, he still has a special place in his heart for Hwi, Hwi’s sister, Yeon, and Hee-jae. He is a warm-hearted character.
The showdown between Seon-ho and Hwi, over who would place first in the military exam, was loaded with powerful action.
WDH: I remember that filming took place on an extremely hot day. Since it was the first fight between the two of us, I was very careful with the acting in that scene, to make sure we conveyed the right things to the audience. It is an action scene, but it is crammed full of all sorts of different emotions. While filming that scene, we had some NG (No Good) takes due to accidentally hitting each other and the like, but by that time I had become very good friends with Se-jong, so we were able to laugh, forgive, and have a fun time filming.
Seon-ho struck Hwi in the moment when it looked as if the match had ended, and the exam official that Seon-ho’s father had bribed gave him first place. How did you sympathize with Seon-ho’s feelings of unintentionally betraying his best friend?
WDH: That part when Seon-ho struck Hwi on the head-- I discussed it with the director many times while reading through the script with him. If Seon-ho had been in a decent frame of mind, he wouldn’t have done such a thing. Probably a good explanation is that he was completely exhausted, in a state where he could not see clearly, and because he mistakenly thought that the match was not over, he unfortunately hit Hwi. The usual Seon-ho would absolutely never do such a thing.
AOA’s Seolhyun played Hee-jae, a heroine who is as brave as Seon-ho or Hwi, and who lives her life with strong convictions. This was your first time working with her; what was your impression of her?
WDH: I think Seolhyun is a really amazing girl. Most of the leading roles in “My Country” are played by men, so I don’t think it was simple at all for her to play a strong woman among them. But she performed the role of Hee-jae with great skill, and was very bright and cheerful on set. I felt that she is an amazing girl with a strong mental resolve, given that she was probably very busy compared to everyone else. She really has her act together; you'd never guess that she was the youngest! I learned a lot from her.
Must-have items for a rural location
This work took a long time to film and took place in a rural location. In addition to the script, we heard that there were items that he would always bring onsite.
WDH: Filming occurred all over the place for nine months, so I would often sleep at a boarding house. So I brought pillows! I always had a pillow stuffed into one side of my suitcase (laugh). It wasn’t special, it was just a pillow from home that I sleep with every day.
They say that performing in this historical drama became an opportunity to visit many different scenic spots throughout the country that he hadn’t known about before.
WDH: I didn’t know that there are so many beautiful places in Korea. We climbed various mountains and ventured deep into remote mountain interiors in order to include as many splendid views as possible in this work. So there were times when we did things like spend two hours climbing a mountain. I remember hiking up a mountain for a long time when I shot that waterfall scene with Hwi in the first episode.
Seon-ho’s straight, long hair and variety of colorful clothing were one of the highlights.
WDH: Se-jong and Jang Hyuk-sunbae grew their hair long, but my hair was a wig. I grew my bangs out because I thought my own hair would look more realistic there. It was extremely hot as a result, but there was one benefit—thanks to the wig, I did not feel the heat in the scene where I was enveloped by flames. It was inconvenient but I had fun expressing the ambiance of that time period with the long hair. I was able to wear a lot of beautiful traditional clothing. I feel like I have worn everything except the king’s dragon robes now. Armor was a lot of fun too.
His calm, deep voice was very attractive, but because it was his first time in a historical drama, he found it difficult to enunciate.
WDH: Vocalization in a historical drama is different compared to a contemporary drama. It was a bit of a long process for Se-jeong and me; we'd consult with the director and then fumble around stressing out about it. I felt a strong sense of relief after we got through the opening scenes. But the next drama that I will be appearing in after “My Country” is “The King: Eternal Monarch”, so I will once again have to take some time to transform into my period drama mannerisms (laugh). I wanted to stay immersed in Nam Seon-ho’s mindset for a little longer, but regrettably I wasn’t able to. Right away I cut my hair and started filming a new work.
He continues challenging himself to do new things-- his first romance was “The Great Seducer”, his first historical drama was “My Country”, and for his newest work, “The King: Eternal Monarch”, he will play two roles for the first time. This time what will he show everyone as he takes on this challenge?
WDH: I want to act in a historical drama again. And romances, action shows-- there are many things I'd like to do. I won't say, "I did it once already, so I don't want to do it again for a while." Even if the genre is the same, the story and characters are different, so I always keep an open mind.
After a 9 month period of long-term filming, Woo Do-hwan feels more gratitude towards his fans.
WDH: During times when I am filming or times that are physically and mentally arduous, I remind myself of how much appreciation fans have given me, that so many have been kind enough to watch my work, and I feel like I have to work hard for them, for all of you. That feeling became even stronger as I was doing “My Country”. I often think about how I can give back to fans. I am always thankful to you guys.
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Mother-in-law (Part 2)
Hi everyone! Here's part two of the 'Mother in law' fic!
Hope you like it. Enjoy!
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Three years later...
"Oh no, Helen of course we will come. It's been what three months since we last saw each other. So of course. We would love to celebrate Christmas with you." Jo's standing in the Kitchen, holding onto the wooden island while speaking with her mother-in-law over the phone. She's making a quick gaze over to her two three year olds, who are contently sitting on the couch watching Mickey Mouse.
"You want to speak to them?" Jo's slowly walking over to where her kids are watching TV, waiting for Helen's answer while she mutes the TV.
"Ok, I'll put you on speaker." Doing as she said, she clicks on the speaker button on her phone, sitting down between her babies.
"Guys say hi to grandma."
"Hi grandma." "We miss you, grandma." Her kids are scooting closer to her to speak or rather scream into the phone with excitement. They love their grandma to death.
"Hi, sweeties. I miss you too. But we will see each other very soon. You are going to visit me for Christmas."
"Really?" Both are looking excited at their mother.
"Yes. We will visit grandma for Christmas. We will celebrate with her. And aunt Amber and uncle Matt will be there too."
"And Liam and Grace?" Of course the only thing her kids care about are their cousins.
"And is the new baby there too?"
The twins love their cousins. That's another point why Jo's really happy that she kept in contact with their mother-in-law, even though Alex left her.
"Yes, Emy the new baby will be there too. Her name is Evie." Jo's looking down on her two babies, who continue to talk to her grandma. She is really happy that after all, her kids have her. If Jo would have cut the contract to Helen after that whole Alex crap, they would have no one except Jo. But instead they have a grandma, an aunt, two uncles and three cousins. Sure they also have all their aunts and uncles from the hospital, but Jo's still happy that they have blood relatives.
"Bye grandma." "See you on Christmas." "We love you." Saying their goodbyes to their grandma happily, Jo puts the phone back to normal to also say her goodbye.
"Bye Helen. We'll see you at Christmas."
After the other end says her goodbye too Jo ends the call and puts her phone down on the coffee table.
+
It's a day before Christmas and here they are. Walking out of the plane in which they were for the last seven hours. The twins are tired even though they slept through almost the entire flight. Jo is holding onto one hand of each kid, guiding them out of the plane and into the airport. After they got their suitcases they are now on their way to the exit. Jo's pulling the suitcases. The twins walk close beside her holding onto each other's hand. They walk through the exit into the freezing cold winter of Iowa. It's also snowing lightly.
"Ok, Peanuts Aunt Amber said left and then left again to the parking space."
So they are walking left and after a few meters they turn left again. Amber is standing in front of her car already waiting for them, not really bothered by all the snow.
As soon as the twins see her aunt they start running towards her.
"Aunt Amber!" "Aunt Amber, we missed you."
She's kneeling down to greet the twins, while Jo walks the last few meters towards them, pulling the suitcases through the snow.
"Hey Peanuts, I missed you too."
She's standing up again and giving Jo a welcoming hug.
"Hi, Jo."
"Thanks for picking us up, Amber. You really didn't need to, we could have taken a cab." Jo lets go of her sister-in- law again.
"Oh no. Of course I came and picked you up. It's not a big deal." Taking the suits out of Jo's hands, Amber puts them in the trunk.
"Get in, Peanuts before you turn into little snowmen." Her comment makes them giggle. Jo helps Emery into the car seat, while Amber is helping Parker to buckle up. Then they get into the car themselves.
The ride to the Karev house is cheerful. The twins tell their aunt about all the new stuff they learned in daycare and all the friends they made there. They also tell her about the newest addition to the family, Bubbles the fish, which is on holidays at Mer's house. Amber tells storys about her kids, Jo talks a little bit about work, but they bypass the 'Alex topic' completely. The Karevs understand that Jo doesn't like talking about him. They know what he did. They are in contact with him, but they never talk to Jo about him. And she appreciates that. That topic is still a soft point for her, even after three years.
Of course the twins ask about their dad all the time and Jo never refused to tell them about him. They know his name. They know that grandma Helen is their dads mom. They know that Amber and Aaron are Alex's siblings. Jo had shown them pictures of him, and told them stories, because even though he had hurt her badly, Jo wants her kids to know their Dad.
After half an hour they arrive at the Karev house. Jo and Amber unbuckle the twins and get the suitcases out of the trunk. Walking through the door they are greeted by Helen.
"My grand babies are finally here." she greets them cheerfully and puts her arms around them while they hug her legs.
"We missed you grandma." "So much, grandma."
"I missed you too." Helen's loosens her grip around her grandchildren and they do the same.
"Now take of your coats and shoes and go to the kitchen. Liam, Grace, Evie and Matt are there. I made hot chocolate." With that the twins strip off their coats and boots and run giggeling towards the kitchen. Amber follows them. Jo puts the suitcases beside the wardrobe, taking of her coat and shoes too and happyly greets her mother-in-law with a hug.
"Hi Helen."
"Jo. I'm so happy you made it. Did you have a good flight?" Jo is about to answer when she gets interrupt by the door bell.
"Are you expecting anyone?" Confused Jo looks into her mother- in-laws face, which shows confusion too.
"No." Helen walks around Jo and opens the door.
Jo can't see the visitor, she can only hear the voice. And it's like someone pours ice water down her back.
"Hi mom."
#jolex#jolex fanfic#jo x alex#jo karev#jo wilson#alex karev#Jo#Alex#grey's fanfic#grey's#greys#grey's anatomy#grey's abc#fan.4196#fan4196#fanfiction#fanfic
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Your Biggest Fan - Part 4
|| Jensen Ackles x Reader (AU) ||
Word Count: 1,310
Warnings: language. That’s pretty much it.
Series Summary: You are an up and coming mystery/suspense writer. The newest addition to your popular series was just released, which means never-ending book signings all over the country. When your overzealous agent lands you a signing in Vancouver, you meet a fan you never expected to have. And, as luck would have it, you are just as big of a fan of them as they are of you!
Series Master List
Two Months Later
New Text Message
Jensen: Hey, pretty lady! How was your day?
You smiled at your phone and leaned back in your desk chair. You had been staring at your laptop screen for the last five hours. Your publisher had given you ten months to have the next installment of your book series completed, and you only had three pages of nonsense so far.
You let out a deep sigh and turned away from your desk, towards the large window of your office.
Jensen and you had been texting each other on an almost daily basis and called or video-chatted at least once a week. It was like having a pen pal, but more modern. And, a little more flirtatious. You had to admit, there was chemistry there. But, you were so far away, and you were so focused on your new project that you weren’t able to leave your house as much as you wanted.
Oh, and not to mention that this was Jensen freaking Ackles. That was one thing that you were still having a hard time getting over.
Y/N: Oh, just trying to dump my empty brain onto paper. Nothing exciting. How about you? Were you on set today?
The smile widened over your lips as you saw your message was read almost instantly.
Jensen: Oh, I’m sure it’s incredibly exciting. ;) Do I smell another addition to your series? And yeah, we filmed for nine hours. I’m beat. About to eat some dinner. But, it was a good day.
Y/N: A new addition might be in the future… or maybe I’m working on something new? You’ll just have to wait.
Jensen: Rude. But, that’s okay. It’s something to look forward to.
Y/N: I guess, haha.
Jensen: Speaking of something to look forward to, when is your next signing up this way? It would be awesome to see you again. I would fly down to SoCal, but I’m a but tied up here. My offer for a tour of the set still stands.
You let out a deep breath, then turned back to your laptop. You couldn’t stand to stare at that laptop and the stark white wall behind it anymore. After three weeks of being home and trying to squeeze the non-existent genius out, you needed a vacation. And not just a day or two in a new town. No, you needed a week or more to be free and enjoy the destination.
Y/N: Call me.
Within seconds, Jensen was calling you over FaceTime. You quickly answered.
“Hey there, gorgeous. What’s up?” Jensen practically sang with a smile. You chuckled.
“Oh, nothing fun. But, I have an idea.” You raised an eyebrow and grinned.
Jensen smirked. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, I’ll be honest, I’m going fucking stir crazy.” You pursed your lips. “Sooo, I wanted to know if it would be okay if I take you up on your offer?” Jensen’s eyes widened along with his lips.
“You mean, for a tour of the set?” The hope and excitement behind his gaze. His tongue peeked through his lips as he waited for your answer.
“If the tour guide is up for it?” You winked, earning you a deep chuckle.
“Well, I offered darlin’. When did you want to make your way up north?” You thought about it for little over a few seconds, then picked up the tablet resting on top of your printer.
“Well, I’ll see if I can find flights for tomorrow? Or is that too soon?” Jensen’s eyes widened and his perfectly chiseled jaw dropped.
“Tomorrow? Uh, wow. Okay—”
“Sorry, that’s such short notice. What was I thinking?” You blushed as you retracted. What the hell was going on with you? You never questioned yourself. But, the startled look on his face made your heart race.
But, much to your relief, Jensen shook his head.
“No, tomorrow is fine. I mean, you probably don’t want to have a tour after a three-hour flight, not to mention all that time at an airport.” Jensen’s words came out a little faster, obviously from excitement. “Just let me know when your flight is, and I can pick you up if you want. Maybe take you to grab a meal if you want.”
“Well,” you balanced your phone in one hand, and tablet in the other, “The only flight from LAX to Vancouver leaves at noon tomorrow. So, I should land around three, and have my luggage and go through customs and everything by three-thirty?” You were actually doing this. Not that you weren’t a spontaneous person. But, you had never just up and left for another country the next day.
Well, at least not until now.
“Is the flight full?” he questioned as you navigated the travel site. Within seconds, you had your tickets in your email inbox.
“Nope, and my tickets are purchased.” You couldn’t help but giggle. This whole thing was so exciting. A spontaneous adventure. “Now, I just have to book a hotel.”
“Oh, wow. Okay, then. I’ll be at the airport by three-thirty.” Jensen offered his award-winning smile.
“Okay. Wow, this is actually happening!” You giggled in disbelief. You stared at Jensen, silent for a few moments. “Well, I guess I should go pack, then.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Your smile remained as you watched his cheeks flush. “I’ll text you later and, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Jensen winked, then ended the call.
You leaned back into your chair. Well, that just fucking happened. You were leaving for Vancouver tomorrow, meeting up with Jensen fucking Ackles, and touring the set of one of your favorite shows. All on a freaking whim.
Well, go you. It’s about damn time you did something like this. It’s not like you didn’t travel, but it was always planned and always for work. When it came to an actual vacation, it had probably been a good three years since you had gone anywhere more than an hour outside of Los Angeles County.
You stared out the window at the shining sun. Well, shit. What was the weather like in Vancouver now? It was always chillier up north. Did you already put your winter clothes into the garage? Your head spun as you processed the situation. Then, a much more important question crossed your racing mind.
“Where the hell did I put my passport?”

You let out a shaky sigh as you watched your purple plaid suitcase approached you on the conveyor belt. There were at least thirty other people still waiting for their luggage in the surprisingly crowded Vancouver International Airport.
You clutched your laptop bag at your side as you leaned down for your suitcase. Luckily, it had been one of the first one’s unloaded, which meant you could be out of there quicker and well on your way to find your tour guide.
Once the wheels of your suitcase were firmly on the streaked epoxy floor, you were heading for the glass doors. Dim light shone through the tall glass windows that lined the walls, exposing the yellow flashes of taxi’s passing by. As you neared the automatic doors, they opened, greeting you with a chilly gust of Canadian air.
Once you were on the sidewalk, you shivered. Your jacket was probably on the bottom of your suitcase, which wasn’t the best place for it. You thought a knitted pullover would be enough. But, the northern air was a little cooler than when you were last there.
Speaking of being outside, it was about time you were entering the car of your handsome friend. You peered down the sidewalk, past at least thirty faces, but didn’t get a glimpse of those gorgeous emerald eyes.
“Y/N?” you heard a familiar voice chirp from behind you. You turned towards the sound and your eyes instantly locked on glimmering emerald.
Ah, there they were.

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