#AND ACTUALLY GO TO EL DORADO

[dragonnnfly]

“Loss of limb, (just one if it helps)”

13 years later and I still can’t believe Dreamworks had the balls to just amputate a 15-year old kid and handled it in like the best way possible.

DreamWorks has always had such mature themes now that I think about it, and they introduced them and handled them in a way that seems so natural to children.

Hiccup’s amputation is such a good example.

DreamWorks didn’t gloss over it either, and even they continued, in every show and every movie from then on, to show what it’s like living with a disability like that. There were some things Hiccup had a harder time doing than before, but in no way did it get in the way of his goals and dreams.

I didn’t understand how important that was when I was a child, watching the movie for the first time, but I understand it now.

DreamWorks has guts, and I’m so happy that they do

[andnowanowl]

What you may not have directly caught as a kid watching this movie is that Tannabok is aware that they are not gods very early on. But Tzekel-kan, who he is at odds with, does believe they are gods. The first scene we see of both characters is of Tannabok being a family man and Tzekel-kan being a high priest with an army who has gone off the deep end. The movie does not explicitly say why, but through sub-text you can tell El Dorado is not perfect. Chel was stealing from a temple and running away; you don't do that if your society is perfect.

In this scene, Tannabok manipulates the two idiots who have walked into his city into staying because he wants to use them somehow to depose Tzekel-Kan. They've already shifted the balance of power by being there. The real power in the city so far has been the priesthood, who are gathering up people to be zealously sacrificed. Tannabok's powers seem to be limited because he doesn't want the sacrifices but can't stop them.

This whole thing easily reflects what has historically happened and happens in white Christian society (taking your kids to church knowing there's a chance they might get molested by the priest or youth pastor because you want to get into Heaven seems like a form of human sacrifice to me), but Dreamworks made the troubled society brown people that had white people save them. 🥴

[spatio-rift]

i have another question 🙋‍♂️ who n what exactly are zanark domain to zanark if hes someone who says stuff like this

[neechees]

Negative & racist depictions, tropes, and Stereotypes regarding Native Americans in Road to El Dorado.

Mayaincatec: The film homogenizes multiple Indigenous cultures cultures into one, specifically and mainly Maya and Nahua cultures, with the story being based on a mythical place set in Colombia.

Mighty Whitey: the basis of the film comes from the Spanish lie and myth that the Indigenous Aztec population worshipped them as gods, with the city of El Dorado doing the same with Miguel and Tulio, who use this to trick Native people to steal gold from them.

Oversexualized Native Woman: Chel’s character has overemphasis on her sex appeal and sexuality, with her character design being very revealing and exageratted on her chest, hips, and thighs. There is little to no exploration of her character outside of her sexuality and servitude towards the White characters. She does not pass the Aila Test and is a near opposite. Chel is a perfect example of how many Native female characters are sexualized

Evil Shaman: The Native religious leader Tzekel-Kan is demonized as evil & plays a heavier role as the main antagonist instead of the famed genocidal colonizer Hernan Cortez. Tzekel-Kan being enslaved by Cortez at the end is depicted as a “good ending”.

Demonized Spiritualiity: connected to the above, all scenes depicting traditional Mesoamerican spirituality/religion or practices are shown as evil, barbaric, savage, scary, and associated with the main antagonist.

White Saviors: El Dorado is saved by the main White protagonists, the idea to destroy the gates to the city is Tulio’s idea, the warriors of El Dorado are portrayed as helpless and no match for the Spanish conquistadors despite Indigenous Mexican warriors going toe to toe with them, and winning against them in various battles in real life.

Whitewashed Colonialism: Cortez, despite being one of the worst colonizers in history, serves as a minor, secondary antagonist & his evilness is only vaguely implied, and never explained why it (his actions) is bad. Cortez has the same goal as Miguel and Tulio (to steal gold from Indigenous people), but the protagonists aren’t shown as bad for doing it. Colonization is essentially excused (& is never explicitly named as harmful) as long as the colonizers are “nice” about it.

There’s likely some other stuff I’m missing but these are some of the big ones that are shown in this film, & its depictions of Indigenous Peoples are extremely harmful. I also don’t wanna see anybody trying to defend any of these with somehow implying “Well it’s not ACTUALLY racist or harmful because-” etc etc save it for a vague post and take our inability to see criticism of racism within a movie you like elsewhere.

[faesdreaming]

Yandere Deity - Altar

tw: yandere behaviour, possessive/obsessive behaviour, kidnapping, diety uses he/him pronouns, gaslighting, yandere using his abilities to mess with reader’s perception of reality

“Haven’t you come to worship at my altar?”

•A lone Deity part of a forgotten pantheon, lost to the sands of time. What once was a bountiful temple; filled with offerings and gifts of fruits, meats, candles, with sounds of prayers and hymns of worship ringing through the halls, people streaming in to sing his praise, is now nothing but an empty ruin.

•He’s so very lonely. Nary a person has come to visit him in centuries. Years pass by and he has nothing, no one. Until you. A fateful eve when you happen upon the temple. Hidden away in the heart of a lush jungle, you, an archaeologist, find your El Dorado, your city of gold. You’d long since heard tales of a lost civilization, an Atlantis on land. Yet, here the remnants lay in front of your eyes.

•At the heart of the ruins lays a temple, grand and golden. Although time has chipped away at its’ grandeur, it’s still glorious, in your opinion. It’s a testament to humanity’s evolution. You don’t notice him though, no one does. But he’s noticed you. Nosy little thing, aren’t you? Impudent, little mortal wretch. He ought to kill you for your audacity. Daring to defile his sacred temple, you deserve nothing but the most painful end,

•But, you’re not actually defiling it, are you? You’re so respectful, treating every artifact as though it were the Holy Grail. You revere his temple, it’s a wonder, a marvel to you. It, you treatment, you reverence— you make him feel something new, something foreign. The attention you give him is intoxicating. He’s been forgotten, left behind. Yet, you’re here now. And he isn’t going to let you go.

•So, when a series of natural disasters occurs and suddenly your team is halved, some leaving after the first incident, others meeting fates you don’t want to recall. The others are slowly losing hope, they’ve lost friends, money, time to your passion project. This is your life’s work, you can’t just give up, can you? You don’t want to. You really don’t. But you’re smart enough to know when to cut your losses.

•Then, another freak accident hits. This time is more devastating. Nobody escaped unscathed, nobody escapes at all. Nobody is except for you. You slip in and out of consciousness. One moment, you’re in the rubble amongst your dead coworkers and friends, and suddenly you’re in a bed, soft and warm. You’re delirious, unable to actually make out anything. But you’re certain there’s someone taking care of you. A man. A beautiful man, something, someone, divine. His touch is soft and gentle. Caring even. He placates you with sweet platitudes you can’t quite comprehend in this state, but the smooth baritone of his voice makes your heart soar.

•When you fully regain consciousness, you’re able to see your surroundings. You’re in a room filled with luxury. Ornate decor, golden furniture, the whole nine yards. It’s impressive, if not a little, a lot, off-putting. How did you get here? Who was the man taking care of you? Thousands of questions and thoughts flood your mind. It’s interrupted by him, the man.

“You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”

•You blink in confusion. It’s—he’s— everything is too much. Too overwhelming. He chuckles, it’s a rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. He reassures you, slowly and gently placing a strong hand of on your shoulder. There’s something commanding in his soft tone, something compelling you to swallow the lump in your throat and obey. He laughs again and you blush.

•He introduces himself as the one who’s been taking care of you. Doesn’t offer you any explanation as to why, but you ought to be grateful. After all, you could have been left out to die. He offers you food and water. You eat like a man starved and drink the water as though it were the sweetest ambrosia. He offers to let you stay here— where is here?— with him.

“You may leave whenever you decide to leave.”

•He promises, even escorts you out of the room, down halls that moves and shift, and spin around. You’re dizzy, delirious, unable to care for yourself. He carries you back to the room. How embarrassing. Your apologies when you regain your composure are shrugged off. It’s fine, he insists. You’re sick, vulnerable. He reiterates his offer, stay until you get better— you could’ve sworn he said stay forever— and are able to fend for yourself. You nod your head in agreement. It’s the logical choice, really. You’d probably die on your own.

•He smiles a brilliant smile at you, swears he’ll care for you diligently. And he has been, hasn’t he? You’re beginning to trust him, have faith— why?— in him. He stays true to his word. Working tirelessly to care for not only your body but your mind as well. Sleepless nights are spent with him by your side, telling you folktales and myths, singing soft lullabies to lull you to sleep, or even merely conversing with you. Days are spent improving your health. He feeds you by hand sometimes when you are too weak to do it yourself. When your health shows signs of improvement, you both go on walks, exploring the extensive gardens and many palace— temple, building, you’re not sure where you are— halls.

•He gifts you with many things too. Soft silk robes, shining jewels, ancient tomes and books, everything you desire you’re given. It’s not your fault, really, that you start to love him— do you?— especially not when’s he’s so kind. So handsome, beautiful really. He looks inhuman, like something divine. He’s attentive and nurturing. Your own prince charming. Your feelings grow as time progresses— how long has it been, you need to leave— until you can’t contain it.

•One day, as he presses a warm cloth to your forehead, you notice just how close he is. How he’s just out of touch. You greedily drink it in, unconsciously inching closer until your lips are pressed against his. The kiss is soft, chaste and you immediately pull away. Your stammering and feeble apologies are interrupted by his hand cupping your cheek. He leans in, your heart thumping in your chest, and kisses you again. This time, you don’t pull away.

•He, your lover, your heart loves you too. It’s surreal— too surreal— and your days spent together become all the more special. You’re utterly content with him, he’s become the air you breathe, the light of your life, you’re everything. It’s only natural for you to become consumed by him. By your life with your beloved— to forget you ever had a life before— spending eternity forever in his arms.

“We only have until forever, love.”

[evilminji]

Oh... oh no it's all coming together ( o.o)

Ya'll remember my Danny haunts Space Games post?

That but MORE SO. Harder. Like... ZONE GAME DEVELOPER PASSION PROJECT harder. Because? Special Interest chemicals go brrrrr~☆

And you KNOW... you absolutely FUCKING KNOW! That Danny was minding his business, going about his life, hyped as FUCK for the new Space Game 5 (a niche game but so what? It has REALISTIC physics! It's set on THE MOON!).

Has NOT stopped rambling on about it.

Been driving everyone insane, because it won't be out for MONTHS.

When~?

Youngblood, probably, goes "So what? That sound BORING. There barely anything to DO in that! Not like one of OUR Super Cool ZONE Video Games™. OURS are way better! And we gave LOADS more options then THAT! Now can we get back to-"

Freeze frame, record scratch.

Wait. WHAT!?

Danny is violently answers out of that eternal child faster then you can say "Dude! Chill!" Got them manic Obsession Eyes. Oops. Youngblood forgot Danny is Space Obsessed. But also PROTECTION Obsessed. Meaning he can't LEAVE where he is protecting.

You know.... FOR SPACE.

He needs a work around to feed his Obsession. Video games do it. Since he can go INTO them, but leave at a moments notice, if trouble happens. It's like being both IN SPACE but also AT HIS POST! Double Obsession Feeding! Happy chemicals! Mmmmm, content ecto-goo~

But now? NOW?! He's learning there is BETTER Space?!

WHERE IS THE BETTER SPACE?! *kicks open the portal*

It? Is a terrifying time for everybody. Thanks A LOT, Youngblood. It takes like... five Amazons and Pandora herself tackling the little menace, to get him still long enough to get a semi-coherent answer out of him. Stop him trying to shake down random ghosts for answers they can't GIVE.

Youngblood is grounded.

DANNY has an Obsession-crash headache, is really embarrassed, but honestly no one blames him. No one acts their best when they're Obsession gets suddenly triggered that hard. It was a poor man offered El Dorado, a scholar all the secrets in the world. He got swept up in it.

That SAID, yes, there IS a video game shop near here. There are, of course, countless such shops. It's the Zone. There are countless EVERYTHING. It's the nature of the Zone. Just don't harrass any of the developers and all will be well, Phantom. They're not afraid to put YOU in time out as well.

Deal! ( /☆.☆)/ *grabby hands*

There? Are so, SO many games. For systems Danny's never even HEARD off. Alien ones, new ones, long dead ones. Zone exclusives. It's less a shop and more a sprawling maze.

His grin is FERAL.

Space. Gaaaaaaames!!!

The more realistic the BETTER. Give him that living vicariously like an Astronaut DREAM. But fantasy maybe! Or in the future! Or deep space! Alien mayhaps! There are a few. The blended Obsessions that are kinda like his. Space and video-games instead of Space and Protection.

And? Oh~

Oh they are so SO realistic.

Impossible to play on any Earth computer, too. Not a single chance. Wouldn't even TRY and run. But! He is a Fenton! And he WILL have his Space Games! If his parents can make a portal in their basement? HE can make a Bank of Ectoplasmic Supercomputers in his spare room! Or Bedroom! Depends on renting prices!

He GUTS every landfill for MILES for usable parts.

"Liberates" parts from Rogues, left and right. Fuck their evil plans! He has computers to build! The Justice League? Baffled. Alarmed. Nooooot his problem!!!

He completes his works and? Oh~ the smile is both terrifying and fangy.

Spaaaaaaaace~☆

He starts College. On line, of course, he refuses to leave Amity. And Online can be done at his pace, at his hours. So? For once? He's actually doing WELL. Even BETTER? It helps him remember to leave them games every once and a while. Eat something. Be human.

But... well... it's like a slow flip of his Obsession starving. Now that he has all the Space he could ever want? He... suddenly finds Amity... peaceful? Which is GOOD! It's... it's GOOD.

.........just not for him.

He can almost physically FEEL him mind unclenching it's death grip on the town. Finger by finger. Hands releasing, letting go, as they... reach for something. As he starts taking NOTE of crime rates in major cities. Alien attacks and Rogues, Heros spread too thin, people getting HURT.

In need of PROTECTION.

He... he doesn't WANT to be that fickle. He LOVES Amity! It's his HOME. He wasn't protecting it just because he craved something to protect! In the end, he drags it out longer then he probably should, argues with himself, ignores the problem. Is STUBBORN.

It's only after Dani starts talking about coming back to Amity to stay with him, do the college thing like he did, that he realizes...

Amity's not his Haunt anymore.

They talk. She's excited to help him find a nice shit hole of a city to protect, but also worried because he looks really gaunt. He may LOVE Space... but...

It's the GHOST in him that loves Space. The Astronaut. The Kid who refused to die, who ate a PORTAL TO THE EVERYTHING and crawled out still exsistant, who told Death not only "not today" but "not EVER"? That kid had something to protect. Was and is and always will BE, protection. Himself, his friends, his family or the town. Doesn't matter WHAT it is.

He refused to go, so he could protect them.

The part that DID, though, was starlight. And yeah, he needs it. Feeds it desperately. But it... doesn't exactly support his human half, you know? Doesn't anchor him. Make him want to eat and sleep, be human and alive, connect with people.

Space makes him ghosty.

Dani ultimately convinces him, after spraying him down with a hose and shoving a cheeseburger down his face, to move to Metropolis with her. They get ALIENS! Have Aliens HEROS! BIG DESTRUCTIVE FIGHTS. With lots and LOTS of people who need help! Plus? Gotham is within a day trip!

And UNLIKE Gotham, the Ecto isn't RANK AF in Metropolis.

Seriously, it smells like a burst sewer pipe over there.

Danny agrees. Can totally afford a modest lil place thanks to some patents. Makes one HELL OF A SCENE moving in. With his giant, ominous, futuristic, weirdly day glow green glowing bank of super computers... in this, "we love our Alien Blorbo" Metropolis.

Cause Green and Glowing sure ain't welcome round these parts! No SIR! Somebody call the COPS!

Danny isn't even half way through, when Superman lightly touchs down, a forced grin plastered to his face. The "please, God, not another Rogue. Not a new one. Please!" all but RADIATING off him.

Hmmmmm....

Danny... kiiiinda forgot not everyone was as "I see fuckin NOTHING, man" as Amity natives. Awkward. Welp! Fenton Oblivious Gene's, ACTIVATE!

"Oh, HIIIIIII~☆ Superman! What brings you round these parts? Gosh, it's an honor! Dani! Come meet SUPERMAN!"

Clark knows what he's doing. Danny knows, Clark knows what he's doing. They are both from the Midwest. They ain't gonna break first! You kidding? Clark still has to ask. Inserts himself by INSISTING on helping. A welcome to Metropolis! Ha ha! (How long we gonna lie for, kid? How long? I can do this all day.)

Clark? Learns that Danny has become ABSURDLY knowledgeable about terraforming, spacecraft, aerospace engineering and anything else related to Space Survival. Thanks to... his "games".

Which Clark is PRETTY sure? Are creatively set up, alien, training programs. Cause both of the Fentons are DEFINITELY at least partially non-human. But, eh. Who is he to judge? The "mad scientist" vibe, though... THAT is his to judge. Which he does.

Routine check ins!

And pasta bakes. Because good lord, Fenton, you are skin and bones! And? If it helps with both Watchtower maintenance AND some killer articles? Because Danny is a fountain of Space related knowledge who loves to share it? That's between Clark and the weird, semi-feral, gremlin he's adopted! (Yes, honey, he KNOWS Danny is a grown man. But I did it with BRUCE-)

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter

[crumbledcastle28]

Javier Peña: The Shittiest Goodbye

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Summary: Javier has no one saying goodbye to him. No one but you.

He smiled; you could tell even from behind your tears. His golden skin crinkled under his eyes, and he pulled you forward by the waist for a short hug. A really short hug – barely four seconds – before he stepped away and leaned down, gathering a bag in each hand.

“I’ll…I guess I’ll see you.”

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t seem to stop. Neither could he.

Warnings: feeeels, crying, kissing, yearning, longing, and all that jazz, one line that can kind of be interpreted as a size kink, but a hopeful ending.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: javi. he's always going to fucking do it for me.

A/N 2: I haven't watched narcos in like four years so if the plot is splotchy, I apologize.

If you would like to leave a like, ask, reblog, or comment, it would be much appreciated <3

Pedro Masterlist

He had told you in person, which was better than nothing.

“They’re sending me home. Tomorrow morning,” he said, putzing with the plastic chain hanging from the lamp on your desk. Eyes unable to meet yours. “My flight’s at 6.”

And then he walked away, each sound of his step away from you tipping the globe further and further off its axis.

You had known he was starting to take matters into his own hands. You had known said matters were dirty, bloody, and grey. And you had known said hands were now buried in a while lot of shit because of it.

You had known, and you still knew, walking into the El Dorado International Airport, squinting against the rising sun. You knew perfectly well who Javier Peña had gotten himself involved with and what they both had done on each other’s behalf.

The fact of the matter was – you didn’t give a shit, because what Javi was doing was moving the DEA further towards its goal than ever. It was fucking working.

In your opinion, if agents couldn’t get their hands dirty, then they couldn’t catch Escobar. Luckily for you, Javier felt similarly.

And yet, here he was, being sent home. The one person who gave you any comfort in the shitshow that had become your life. The only friend who had remained so every single day, the only one you could count on. The one man in all of South America that actually made you feel safe.

And, arguably, the only person in the entire DEA who truly wanted things to get better, even if it left a mark on his soul he could never wipe away.

These thoughts haunted you as you searched for Javi. For six in the morning, the gates were surprisingly crowded. Your tired eyes did their best to search for his prominent features – chestnut hair, perfectly highlighted with tips of blonde by the South American sun, broad shoulders, high cheekbones, curved, Roman nose, pouted lips, likely leaning on one leg, popping his hip out, with his hands on his waist. You secretly hoped he was in his Levi’s leather jacket.

Your eyes squinted as you peered around, lost in the sea of bodies, children, staff, and flight attendants. Suddenly, the thought of missing him wrapped its coils around you, sending a strange, foreign heat down to your toes and up your scalp. Your breathing heightened, images of him already on his flight, alone, thinking no one cared, thinking no one came from him, began to flood your brain. Your fingers grabbed at your chest, your teeth clamped around the skin of the inside of your mouth, pulling so hard you began to bleed.

He had said six, right? In the morning? Today? Had I heard him wrong?

Had he lied to me?

That thought was too much to bear, too much to process, too much too much too much –

A warm, callused hand wrapped around your forearm. You gasped, heart pounding so loud in your head that the man attached to the hand had to repeat what he was saying. His voice was muffled, his face was blurry, but everything about him was so handsome, and so familiar.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a kind of whisper-yell.

It was like you had taken a sedative, looking at Javier Peña, standing right in front of you. Not gone, not forgotten. Right here. Your nervous system evened instantly, like a bucket of warm, clean water had been dumped over your body.

You smiled at him, despite yourself. Despite the situation. Despite it all.

The edge of his lip quirked slightly, but it lasted quicker than a second, before returning to his usual scowl.

“Answer my question,” he said, pulling you towards him. He didn’t sound mad, just…shocked, and a little terrified. His touch on you was gentle, but firm.

You swallowed; eyes still locked into his. You placed your hand on his chest to steady yourself and grinned at the feel of the leather.

“Only if you answer mine first – did you really think you would get to leave without saying goodbye?”

He huffed, meeting your stare, unable to prevent the drop of humor that had culminated in his eyes. “I did say goodbye.”

“Oh please,” you said, pushing away from him. “That was the shittiest goodbye ever.”

He stayed silent for a moment, before letting out a quiet chuckle.

“Besides, six o’clock in the morning is an early call time for you,” you said. You were proved correct by the dark circles under his eyes. You wondered if he had slept at all the night before. “Had to make sure you actually made it.”

“Right,” he said, and looked around him, placing his hands on his hips. His tone suddenly became serious. “You shouldn’t be here.”

That shocked you. “Are you kidding me? Why not?”

“What if – someone sees you, from the DEA, thinks you were working with me. Then what?”

“Then I fucking deal with it,” you said. “I wasn’t going to let you leave thinking that no one would care that you were gone.”

That froze him, his eyes widening just so. The fact that he was shocked at all by that statement caused a fresh set of tears to line your eyes. It was faint, but it was noticeable.

He sighed, looking down at his shoes, allowing you to notice his bags placed on either side of his feet– a large leather carrier, and a small backpack. For a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, until a voice over the speaker interrupted him.

“Flight to Austin, Texas, boarding group one may begin boarding. I repeat, boarding group one may begin boarding for flight to Austin, Texas.”

Javier glanced down at his watch before pulling his ticket out of his back pocket, reading it over with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m group two. I should probably…”

You nodded, a wave of emotion suddenly rocking you once more. The tears were streaming now, down your face. You tried to wipe them away, put they just kept coming.

He took a step closer to you. “Why the tears, ángel?”

You sniffled, wiping your nose, doing the best you could to collect yourself. Maybe that was a good thing, as it allowed this newfound pet name to go completely over your head. The voice that came out of your mouth was nasally and cracked. “I am going to have to do so much paperwork.”

He smiled; you could tell even from behind your tears. His golden skin crinkled under his eyes, and he pulled you forward by the waist for a short hug. A really short hug – barely four seconds – before he stepped away and leaned down, gathering a bag in each hand.

“I’ll…I guess I’ll see you.”

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t seem to stop. Neither could he.

He opened his mouth, once again about to say something, when the speaker went off again.

“First call for boarding group 2 for flight to Austin, Texas. I repeat, first call for boarding group 2 for flight to Austin, Texas.”

He didn’t move an inch. There were so many things you were wishing to say in that moment.

Don’t go. Please, don’t leave me here.

I’ll be alone. I’ll be alone, with you away.

I would have done the same thing you did, working with those men.

I understand why you did it, maybe better than anyone else.

I would have done the same thing, in your shoes. A couple times, I almost joined you.

I’ll go with you, and we’ll never go back. Never. Never.

You didn’t say a word, your confidence swirling down and down, deeper and deeper inside of you. Javier licked his lips and turned around, beginning to walk away. Like he did that day at your desk. Like he did however many times you had asked to help him with what he was doing. Like he did whenever the two of you would make eye contact for just a little too long.

At that all too familiar sight, the confidence inverted itself, instead flooding upwards all at once, flooding your brain with a mantra of why the fuck not?

For once, you listened to that voice, and did the same thing Javier had done to you only moments before. You took a long stride forward, grabbed his elbow, and turned him around.

And then, you took his face in your hands, and you kissed him.

Kiss was a stretch – it was more like a quick peck, barely even felt by either party. But it was something, something that got him as close to you as you had always wanted him to be – his breath fanning your face, his chest pressed against yours, a mix of coffee and mint on your lips, which you quickly licked away. Oddly enough, it steadied your heart, calmed you down instantly.

Because you had that now. That memory. Something more than passing glances and quick hugs. A part of you, in that moment, didn’t even care what his reaction was, because that feeling alone was enough for you to live with.

The rest of you, however, short circuited at the fact that he may not have wanted that at all, and you had completely violated him in the middle of a fucking airport.

You looked up into his wide eyes for barely a second before backing away from him, the beginnings of a million sorrys forming on your tongue.

That was until the bags slipped from his hands, landing on the harsh carpeting with a thud. He then rushed forward, using one hand to frame your face, and the other on the nape of your neck to tip your head back.

There was no time for your brain to accept this as fact before he brought your lips to his own, his kiss nothing less than searing, and nothing more than perfect.

You reciprocated as soon as you were able, wrapping your arms around his back to steady yourself. The feeling of his lips upon yours was better than you had ever imagined, better than you had ever fantasized about while he sat in your peripheral vision during meetings. His lips were soft, buttery, and so was his facial hair. It tickled your nose just so, which only heightened when he tilted your head further, licking the inside of your mouth. You moved your fingers to his hair in response, tugging him so harshly into you you stumbled backwards.

It was hot and sweaty, messy and desperate, and neither of you were letting up. Not even to breathe. His hands moving down to your waist felt too good, his chest against yours too real, his hair between your fingers too addictive, his soft groan every time your tongues clashed too vivid, and your lips molding together too perfect.

You were speaking to each other, in a way. Both of your bodies reciprocated every move, grabbing and twisting and pulling, both saying the same thing over and over and over again.

I’m going to miss you so fucking much.

Small eruptions of gold began to spawn behind your eyes, ones of pure pleasure, disbelief, and dizziness. His hands turned greedy now, encompassing the span of your back like it was nothing. The hairs on his face began to burn you, the feel of his warm mouth consuming you.

It was too much, too much too much too much, but it was so fucking good –

“Final call for boarding group two for flight to Austin, Texas. I repeat, final call for boarding group two for flight to Austin, Texas.”

It was like a switch flipped in both of your brains at once, propelling the both of you off of each other instantly. He didn’t make eye contact, not even for a second – just wiped his mouth quickly, fetching both bags, and turning from you, walking towards his gate.

He disappeared within the crowd, and you did the same. Turning back towards the entrance, pushing your way through the half-awake travelers, headed god knew where for god knew what.

Your lips still thumped, and so did your heart, so much so that you didn’t really know if you could feel your feet.

There were so many thoughts you could have been having, so much intricacy to the situation, that your brain did the only thing it could – it shut it all down, completely. If it hadn’t, you worried you wouldn’t have been able to pull from him in the first place.

It wasn’t until you made it back to your apartment and set your keys down on your nightstand that the thoughts started flooding in. There were too many to dissect, too rapid to make sense of, but one outweighed them all.

Had he looked back?

In your still hazy brain, that cemented every other question you had, calmed the steady stabbing that had begun to ache inside your skull. You fell asleep, the sun now high in the sky, illuminating your room into a kind of gold. It was a nice change, after a week of grey weather, but you were too gone to the world to notice.

The last thought you had before you escaped to slumber, and the first that you had the second you returned, was all the same: had Javier Peña looked back?

***

He had. Many, many times.

Tag list: (if you would like to be added or were somehow missed, please feel free to let me know :))

@lovesbiggerthanpride @paintlavillered @xocalliexo @c4psicle @joelsflannel @thesmutslut @untitledarea @daphne-turner @queerponcho @ririi-3

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 8- hate you too

Summary: Rafe is back at Tannyhill, taking care of “business.” Pope gets himself into some trouble, and you get to talk to Rafe again. But by doing so, you betrayed the pogues and your brother.

Series masterlist

“Look at you! You’re so grown up!” Big John told you, you gave him a smile and wrapped your arms around him. It had been a while since you’ve seen him.

Everyone celebrated big John’s return to the Chateau, JJ hopping on his back with a wide smile on his face.

JJ thought of him as the father he never had, whenever your guys dad used to hit him, he always had a place at the Chateau. You had even been there quite a few times, when it got real bad.

You all sat down now, listening to them explain everything.

“Yeah, yeah, so we, um… we went to the archive in Charleston, and, uh… it was a dead end. A dry hole.. so…”

“So that’s the gold, the cross, and now El Dorado. We’re there for three, guys.” Pope spoke, pausing. “The streak continues.” He scoffed. “That’s great.”

Pope and Kiara left, you looked at JJ and he stood up. You did as well, mostly because he was your only ride at the moment.

You got him a new bike with some of the money you saved, and you were fixing the car later.

“I’m going fishing. Thanks for the beer.”

“Yea, thank you. See you guys later.” You told them, giving John B and Big John a small smile before following him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“The cross is not on the train, Rafe. It did not arrive. Somebody stole the cross.” Wards voice spoke over the phone.

“Oh my God, wait, who stole it?” Rafe spoke, feigning his confusion.

“I don’t know who stole it, Rafe!”

“That’s rough.. I- I mean it could’ve been anybody, really, right?”

“Not really, Rafe. It could be one of a very few people.”

“Well, I mean, you know, we were just giving it away anyway… so, who cares?” He shrugged. “Who cares?”

Ward exhaled, making Rafe have a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, Rafe, okay. That’s done for now. I need you to finish the list I gave you. I want you to… sign for the east river property, when that’s completed, shut down the offices-“

“Yeah, no, I- actually I wanted to talk to you about that. Uhm, I’m thinking maybe we should keep the offices.”

“..what?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking maybe I should stay down here for a while. You know, really grow the company. I think it’d be good for us, right!”

“Listen to me, Rafe-“

“No. No, no, no, you listen, okay?” He put himself on speaker. “You listening? You remember when you told me to make myself useful? Well, thats exactly what I’m doing. I’m making myself useful, alright? I can do shit, you know? Explore options… so for the benefit of all, I think I’m gonna hang out for a while, okay?”

“Rafe, listen to me, you are there for one reason. You are to act as my proxy to shut down the companies, okay? That is our one play, and if you cannot do it-“

“If I can’t do it? If I can’t do it, then what? Then what?” He shouted, “you gonna hop on a plane? Come down here? I mean- it’ll be like a goddamn Elvis sighting! Ward Cameron, everyone! Oh my God, he lives! He’s back from the dead!”

Rafe scoffed, looking down at the ring on his finger.

“I got the family ring now, Pops. Yeah, I’m wearing it, and it’s my time to step up, okay? You’re dead.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You took a deep breath, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Hold on!” Ricky shouted from inside, you heard rummaging before he came over and opened the door.

He looked at you, your eyebags dark, your clothes dirty and ruined, your expression tired.

“Holy shit.” He spoke, dropping whatever was in his hands before stumbling to pick it back up.

“I- i heard you were back and i tried texting you- but-“ he said with a laugh when you wrapped your arms around him.

“Broke and lost my phone.” You told him, smiling as you pulled away from the hug.

“Shit- uh, come in.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“And rumor has it, along with everything else, you stole that catamaran out there.”

“I didn’t s- I was with Sarah Cameron when i was on that boat. That’s their families boat!” He pointed.

“Not according to the registration. It’s Rafe’s boat, and he says you stole it. He’s keeping it here because he doesn’t want you around it.”

“Okay, Billy, come on. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m sorry kid.” Billy sighed out. “Guffy put the nix on it. Okay? I can find cheap help that doesn’t piss my clients off.” The phone started ringing and Billy glanced over. “I gotta go.” He sighed, leaving.

As JJ walked on the dock with tears begging to be let out, he heard a familiar voice shout.

“Damn, Rafe. Come on, country club. Bro, how are you gonna have this and not even tell me! You got a whole YMCA up on this bitch, dude.” Barry spoke with a laugh.

“Barry! Time to think. All right, we need to make a move.” Rafe shouted, standing up now.

“That’s all we do, bro. We been making moves.”

JJ hid, watching the conversation and listening in on it.

“Yeah, well we don’t have much time. Yo, come down here, you’re not gonna believe this shit.” Rafe spoke, all of them stepping down.

JJ sighed, thinking as he stood up. He took off his shoes, and dove into the water.

“I’m just saying we need to take this shit seriously.” JJ heard Rafe say when he went closer, now in front of the boat.

“Dude, bro, i should get a tooth made out of this, huh?” Barry asked, smiling as he held up a bar to his teeth.

“Look, don’t be touching the shit. Just put it back.” Rafe told him.

“So paranoid, bro.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the cross. I’m trying to make money.”

JJs head snapped up at his words.

“I told you, my aunt, she got some contacts. She gonna help us move these little bitches. The gems, the nuggets, the whole damn melted enchilada.” Barry told Rafe.

“These gems are mint, man. The golds bullion. We’re selling it in bars. Alright? I’m not gonna deal with some half assed pogue shit with some reject from Zale’s, bro-“

“Watch how you speaking about my auntie, dog.”

“I’m not talking about your aunt. I’m just…” JJ swum back to the dock, the rest of the conversation not important now that he knew about the gold and the cross.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Pope… he has the cross and he melted it down.”

Popes face fell, he stared out into the water.

“Fuck!” He shouted. “Of course it was Rafe.” He said as he panted.

“Yeah, I mean, we probably coulda guessed that.” You said.

“The cross of Santo Domingo, desecrated! For money? God!”

“I know.. so.. I think we need to stay calm to make a plan, but we got to stay-“ JJs sentence was cut off as Pope smashed the floorboards.

“Getting better at that.”

“This is messed up, man. Even for them.”

“I know.” JJ said.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You told them.

“And they’re just gonna keep getting away with it. They’re gonna keep doing that shit. Gonna keep winning.”

“I mean, pope, is this news to y-“

You hit JJs shoulder before he could finish that sentence, giving him a pointed look as he rubbed his shoulder.

“No. But I’m sick of being the good guy.” He said, before walking away.

“Pope.” Cleo said, but he started to run. “Pope, where are you going?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Well, I appreciate the help, you three.” Mrs. Heyward spoke, you and Cleo coming out and setting up tables.

“You know I ain’t missing Mrs. Hayward’s cooking.” JJ said with a small smile, wiping down the table.

“Unlike my derelict son. He’s usually here by now”

JJ tried to steal something off the grill, but his hand was slapped away.

“I’m sure he’ll be back any second, Mrs. Heyward. Probably just going through a rough time. It’s been hard adjusting back to normal life. For all of us.” You told her, a hopeful smile on your face.

“Either one of yall moved the pistol from in there?” Heyward spoke, pointing to the inside. “The one I keep under the register?”

“JJ?”

“Whoa, okay, I didn’t touch it. Okay?” He quickly defended

“He didn’t.” You told him.

“Yeah, well somebody did. Cause it’s gone.”

“I got my own gun, Mr. Heyward.” You held your hands up in defense when he looked at you.

“You see? I- dang it. I gotta find it.” He stormed inside, Mrs. Heyward following.

“Shit.” You muttered, turning to the both of them

“He’s going after Rafe.”

“I’ll check the marina.” You quickly spoke up. “Okay… I’ll come with.” JJ spoke, but you shook your head.

“Go with Cleo to Tannyhill. I doubt he’ll be at the marina still.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I haven’t talked to you in a minute, all right? No, look, listen, okay, the situation is we got… I got it. I got it right here. It’s bars, in bullion. All right.” Rafe spoke on the phone, pacing on the boat.

Pope held the gun, moving it up. He cocked it, pointing it to Rafe and aiming carefully with tears in his eyes.

He heard the footsteps before he heard your voice.

“Pope..” you mumbled. “If you do this, your whole life will go to shit. Trust me.”

“I don’t care.”

“But you care about your mother. And your father. What would they think?”

“I think they would understand how I feel.” Pope said, tears now streaming down his face. “For once, he would lose like we always do.”

You sighed, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, as he spoke.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. I’ve lost everything.”

“Are you kidding? You have a family, you have a home. You have friends that would kill themselves for you. Pope, you are the smartest fucking kid I know, but that is some bullshit coming out your mouth right now.” You paused for a moment.

“I know that right now it feels like nothing matters, and believe me, I’ve been there, but trust me, what you do is going to matter.” You continued.

You grabbed his arm, lowering it along with the gun, he exhaled and sobbed. You held him, letting him cry into your shoulder.

“Just breathe, dude. You’re good.”

You glanced back at Rafe on the boat, watching him pace back and forth on the phone.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m sorry, J. I already asked, but there’s no room left in the house. I’m sorry.” You told him, a sad smile on your face.

“You think you can stay at the Chateau for a while? I- I just got this new job, and I’m really trying. I swear. I’m gonna get like- I’m gonna have to get like two more, but I swear, I’m gonna get some place soon, even if it’s like.. a fucking shithole-“ you rambled on.

JJ nodded, cutting your off with his words. “I’ll figure it out, it’s all good. Don’t worry ‘bout me.”He told you, shrugging and putting his cap back on his head.

“Are you sure?”

“Jesus, I’m sure. Jb won’t mind, I already practically lived with him before, I’ll do it for years again if I have to.” He shrugged.

“Thank you, JJ. See you,” you nodded, giving him a small smile before walking away.

“See you, dude,”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Yeah, a lot happened after that. John B showed up, Big John had been kidnapped, and now JJ and John B were going to some professors house to get info on where he might be, because all they knew is he was somewhere in South America.

And you were currently working two jobs, one of which was a bartender one.

The bar was in a club on figure eight, so of course you heard a bunch of shit. But today, you couldn’t help but listening in on the conversation.

“You know that Rafe Cameron is sellin’ fucking gold? From like some… ancient artifact or something?” One man said to another, downing the shot he had just gotten.

“Sell a bit here, a little bit there. Under the radar.” Rafe had told Barry when he talked about the plan for selling the gold. Clearly, that had not worked as well as they hoped, since word got around.

You listened intently, your job of wiping up the bar now forgotten.

“What? That’s weird. Heard he’s been on his fuckin’ rocker ever since his dad, and ever since that one girl from the cut.. what’s her name?”

“You talkin’ bout Maybanks sister?” The man asked, not even glancing at you as you filled up his cup again.

“Yes!” He snapped his fingers. “Her. He’s been weird since they broke up.”

“Has he, now?” You asked them with a quirked eyebrow. It was then they looked at you, eyes widening in realization.

“I mean, shit, I see why now.” One of them mumbled when you walked away, making you smile to yourself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tannyhill parties. You hated them. You sighed as you stood in front of the house, shaking your head to yourself as you went in through the back and hopped through an open window, avoiding the dude at the front door.

Rafe really had to hire his own bouncer? That’s low.

You tried not to get spotted, and somehow it had worked. Because among all the drunk and horny teenagers, you were hidden.

You went up the stairs when you didn’t see him anywhere. And you glanced in his room, no sign of him.

“And, if you would kindly follow me, Miss Sofia.” Rafe spoke, guiding her outside.

“VIP section.” He spoke, putting an arm around her.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, only very, very special people are allowed here.. so.”

“Mm..”

“So you can see the water…” he pointed out to the ocean.

“Hey, that ain’t no Jim beam bullshit! All right? That’s Pappy Van Winkle, that’s like a days salary bro! Aye, if you don’t have a drink in your hand get the hell out of my house! Get off my property!” He shouted to the partygoers, all of them cheering at him.

“So this is the VIP life huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah.”

“Cool.” She beamed at him.

“You wanna see some more?” He asked, but before she could answer he heard a a familiar voice.

“Nice party. This shit still tastes like garbage.” You told him, holding up the red cup with some expensive shit you got downstairs.

You wouldn’t admit it stung to see him with another girl. But you did like the way her smile faltered and fell when his eyes were on you now.

“How’d you get in here? Thought I had-“

You shrugged. “I used a window. Can we talk?”

He glanced at you and back at Sofia.

“Alone.” You clarified.

“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere, yeah?” He told her quietly. She nodded.

You both went into his room, he shut the door behind him. You stood in front of him, your arms wrapped around yourself as you looked around the room.

“You wanted to talk, so talk.” He snapped impatiently.

“Jeez, okay, okay. Just cut to the chase, do you have my jacket? I haven’t been able to find it and I know I always left it here.”

“You came here, through a window, for a fuckin’ jacket?” He asked, his tone annoyed.

“No… that’s… that’s not my point. I just… Rafe, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to be.”

He was listening now.

“Why the fuck did you burn down the cross?” You asked him.

“What?” He laughed, your sudden change in demeanor was hilarious to him. “I- it’s mine. Don’t you guys get that?” He pointed to himself, his eyebrows furrowed. “Mine. I fuckin’ went to hell and back for that thing.” He pointed, voice louder now.

“Yeah, all for some fuckin’ money! Which, may I remind you, you already have plenty of. You’re being an asshole, Rafe-“

“Yeah, and when am I not with you?” He scoffed.

“Do you really wanna have this argument? Right here? And while I’m here, I broke up with you, so why are you telling people it’s the other way around? You don’t wanna seem like a pussy or something?” You are practically shouting now, happy that the music drained out the noise.

“Oh, don’t even!” He laughed. “Are you fucking-“

“It is Popes cross, not yours. And just admit you don’t wanna be seen as the boy who begged and cried for his girlfriend to come back!” You yelled at him, poking your finger into his chest.

When the fuck did you two get so close to each other? You thought.

You looked up at him, panting. He stared down at you. He grabbed your wrist, harshly holding it in his hand.

Your heart raced as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a fiery, heated kiss. One full of anger, pent up feelings. Of course, you didn’t reciprocate at first.

You fell under his spell, however, seconds later, kissing him back. His hand let go of your wrist, and were currently on your sides, pulling you even closer as you both crashed onto the floor, you straddling him.

“I- I fucking hate you.” You muttered when you both pulled away, causing him to smirk against your lips.

“Hate you too.” He told you, going back to shoving his tongue in your mouth.

————————

Taglist:

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

[indigenous-character-tournament]

Would you say that the indigenous people including Chel from The Road to El Dorado are Muisca, considering that the myth of El Dorado came from wishful thinking of greedy conquistadors wanting more gold after "discovering" the Muisca people and the Golden Man or El Hombre Dorado?

My issues with The Road to El Dorado are pretty numerous and the portrayal of the Indigenous people of El Dorado is at the center of it. Colombia is my home country and while I am not Muiska, I am Indigenous to Colombia (Iku Arhuaco) and it is what I plan to do in my graduate studies. Now I don't have the time to really like, put sources since this is going straight from the mouth. (Also rip english in case i mess up)

To answer your question before I delve into it, I would say no, that I would not consider them Muiska. The people of El Dorado bear little resemblance to the actual Muiska, be it historical or now, other than the tie between El Dorado and the Muiska people. I will say that I also won't accept any submissions from the movie as well.

Chel and her people are quite divorced from what the Muiska culture is. I've seen many people even confuse it with more Mesoamerican tribes.

The only one who truly wears gold is the zipa, such as shown in the middle image (Tisquesusa) and the legend of El Dorado comes from the ceremony at Lake Guatavita, where it was said the zipa would cover himself in gold dust and make offers to gods.

The true clothing worn is actually plentiful. As skilled weavers of cotton and sheep wool, the clothing focuses on geometrical and animal-based designs that were sacred. There is little to see in any of the designs, and in the case of Chell, she is barely clothed which is definitely not something that bodes well representation-wise considering how sexualized she is.

The architecture is completely different as well, with no true reference to what it actually looks like:

What is most important to realize is that there are still Muiska people in Colombia today, and there was no input from them in the movie at all.

It's an issue a lot of these movies had and it made them worse. I could probably go on for much longer, but I should probably cut this down. But yeah, I wouldn't consider them Muiska. (Sorry for the late reply it has been like a solid few months since this asks lmao)

[sweetienans]

Lonesome || R. Cameron

Summary

"What are you going to do with all the money?" Rafe followed you to the store that he didn't even know it was there. Stores in the cut were a new world to him.

"What are you talking about? I don't have any money" You said grabbing some apples and peaches.

"I know you do, or you will do" He reached your lower back trying to gain your attention but you slapped his hands out of it.

"Don't touch me. Rafe I swear to god I don't know what are you talking about. Are you high or something?" You tried to look to his eyes to see if they were dilated but they were the normal blue and tinted green as always.

"I heard my dad talking with one of his lawyers yesterday" he looked straight to your eyes to try to see if you were lying to him. You weren't. "Your mother is dead, and she left you all of her wealth"

Nothing ever happened. No gold, no cross, no El Dorado. Everything followed the normal course. Except for you. Your mother died, not that you actually care. She never raised you. She never appeared until now when apparently she was rich and left you all of it. You didn't want to know anything about the money even though you needed it. And if it wasn't for Rafe, you wouldn't even check the numbers on your bank account. He has a plan, a plan that he would do anything to achieve even if he has to use you.

Pairing: Rafe cameron x reader.

Warnings: use/mention of alcohol, mention of drugs, smut eventually but will be labeled. Violence (jj's father) Ward is still a bad father. 18+ MDNI!

wc: idk

Pt.1

Your house was a complete mess. Your dad has been lingering with Luke for three nights in a row, drinking, smoking, and maybe doing some lines (not your dad at least), but the mess they left was nothing in comparison to hurricane Agatha. The living was teared apart, and the fridge was empty. You'll never leave the house again even if JJ begged you.

You took a bag that you found in the closet and sighed at the sight of your home. Luke and your dad have been missing for two days at least, and that was the last footprint that they were alive. They'll come around, They'll always do. Meanwhile, you'll have to eat and buy supplies.

You passed around your old car, the one you begged your dad not to sell, the one that brought more problems than solutions, but the one that you clung to it with your life. JJ had promised to come by to help you fix the alternator, but since his dad was in your home, it was better for him to stay away.

Following the sidewalk along the street, you passed in front of the most deplored house in the cut. As in every town, they were places in places, the cut in general wasn't a bad place to live but there were parts of it that you would never allow yourself to visit. Barry's for example.

Luckily for you, your nearest store wasn't in the bad part of the cut.

You entered the small store that had everything you would ever need for a few days, some fruits, maybe pasta and tomato sauce, and something to drink. It would be just you in the house, at least for a couple of days.

The timber that announced that someone was entering the store sounded behind your ears. You were in the first aisle, near the door, grabbing and smelling some of the fruit with your basket hanging in your arm.

"Hey," a clear voice that you would recognize anywhere appeared from behind. Your mind was playing funny tricks. There was no chance that he was there.

"Rafe?" You turned around mesmerized. Rafe in the cut was no good. Rumor has it that he made some mistakes and ended up getting in Barry's radar. Totally his fault.

"Did you get it?" He asked straight. You glanced at his tall figure and returned to your task, finding the most juicy fruit in the store.

"Mm, I'm not sure I'm following," you said plainly, walking around the huge baskets of fruits.

"What are you going to do with all the money?" Rafe took one of the apples and bite it, making an annoying sound. You looked at him in disapproval.

"What are you talking about? I don't have any money, " you said, grabbing some apples and peaches and also grabbing the apple half bitten from his hand to put it in your basket.

"I know you do, or you will do." He reached your lower back, trying to gain your attention, but you slapped his hands out of it.

"Don't touch me. Rafe, I swear to god I don't know what you are talking about. Are you high or something?" You tried to look to his eyes to see if they were dilated, but they were the normal blue and tinted green as always.

"I heard my dad talking with one of his lawyers yesterday." he looked straight to your eyes to try to see if you were lying to him. You weren't. "Your mother is dead, and she left you all of her wealth"

Now you fully turn around to face him. He was expecting some kind of reaction, but this wasn't what he imagined. You looked astonished, like a million of thoughts were running through your mind in a second.

"You okay? You didn't know?" He asked emotionless. Like he was really surprised that you didn't even know. He never saw you with your mother. He had known the woman. She was a close acquaintance of his dad. You looked liked her.

"I don't know how to feel..." You said slowly, forgetting who was by your side but regaining notion in a bit. "Not that you care anyways"

"Well, now that you know, what about we do some business" He let out a charming smile, and you looked at him stunned.

You reached in your basket the half bitten apple and threw it to his chest.

"The fact that i didn't know her doesn't mean that you can be a pig about it, show some emotion and respect you asshole" you walked quickly to the next aisle praying that he would stay behind and hopefully left the store. You were wrong.

"Okay, I'm sorry. No need to throw stuff at me" He was wearing a nice white polo shirt that now was stained with apple juice and saliva. "Think about it, it's a great opportunity for the both of us, your money my mind..."

"Let me stop you there" you said putting some pasta and tomato sauce in the basket. "There's no 'both of us' because it's not going to happen"

"Just invest your money with me goddamn it" You were railing him up in a way that not many people could.

"Invest? With you? Like in drugs?" Your left brow lifted, and he rolled his eyes. "Look, there's no money. My bank account now has two digit funds. If you can make us rich with ten dollars, then be my guest, but not today, buddy. I'm buying shit to eat"

"Don't you realize what I am telling you? You are filthy rich even more than-

"Stop it," you interrupted. "I'm not rich and If I was I would put my money were I can see results not in somebody's hand to end up in white powder that's going up your nose, now leave me alone, it's too late for you to be around here"

You walked to the register and paid to the chashier. Rafe was slowly coming from the aisle to approach you again. You could feel your eyes rolling on your skull.

"You are going to give in eventually," he murmured, right behind your ear.

"Here," you pressed two dollars against his chest, his reflex was quick to grab the bills before they were in his feet. "That's all you're going to get from me"

Given the previous events, you expected that Rafe followed you to your home to keep pushing his idea to your brain, but he didn't.

Your situation with Rafe was there. You weren't friends with him, but he wasn't a total stranger to you either. He just existed. Being Sarah's brother made you see him more than often. When you were with Sarah in Tannyhill, Rafe made his appearance glancing towards you and then disappearing until late night when you were about to go home, crossing your paths at the door.

Since you weren't a troublemaker like JJ or John B, you were actually invited to Kook's parties (Sarah doind the job) you refused most of the times but sometimes, when you got really bored at home, you made your way and enjoy partying with them. You didn't believe in Kooks vs. pogues shit.

Rafe was always in those parties. He always kept an eye on you even when you didn't notice. He always found you intriguing, and now that he had the opportunity to find out what you were hiding in that friendly facade, he wouldn't waste it.

You got home around ten. The moon was showing your path to go back to your home. It wasn't different from the other homes around the cut, but growing up, you started to look after it more than everyone else around the neighborhood. You understand that not many people have the time to arrange their gardens or clean the outside, and honestly, you didn't have the time either, but planting some flowers and tidying up the porche was something that you could find your peace on doing it.

You opened the door in your house and immediately flipped the switches on. A muffled yellow hair appeared out of nothing, scaring the shit out you

"JJ!" You dropped your bags out of the scare. "Why didn't you turn on the lights you psycho"

"I'm sorry, i thought you were asleep," he said, coming to you to grab the food from the floor.

JJ was your best friend since you were kids. Your parents, Luke, and your dad were friends and practically raised both of you together. Both with different antics, obviously, that's why every time Luke was around, you warned JJ to not come near your house. Your dad was just a man who only had a daughter and his problematic best friend and at the end of the day he ended up getting tangled in his troubles leaving you behind. You were born just for your dad to share a moment with his best friend. You didn't mind, you had JJ with you.

"Cool, I love green apples," he said, biting one of them, taking you out of your thoughts, reminding you of your encounter with Rafe. You shouldn't tell him.

"Have you seen your dad?" You asked.

"Yeah, he's in the house... your dad is there too, " you exhaled, letting go a weight in your shoulders you didn't know you had.

"Help me with the house, and you can stay," you said, placing the things in the fridge. "I'll make food, and we can watch a movie"

JJ jumped to one of the kitchen tables, hitting his head with the shelf that was above him.

"Can't," he passed his hand in the bump in his head. "John B is waiting, we're going fishing tomorrow morning. We have to find the equipment.

You rolled your eyes. It could be a lie just to now help you.

"I'm serious," he lifted his pinky to you, swearing.

"Fine," you said. "It's your loss, I was going to make pasta"

"I'll bring you fish so you don't have to buy it from Heyward," he said, jumping off the table. "You can cook it for the pogues"

They loved your cooking.

"We'll see," you said, fetching every beer can from the floor to put it on a black bag. "Be safe and please return with all your fingers"

JJ came to hug you real quick and kiss your head. He was like a brother to you.

"How would you enjoy yourself without my fingers, right?" He said, flirting to you.

You pretended to gag.

"Gross," you said while he pinched your side poking his tongue out while exiting your house.

You ended tying up until 2am. It was pretty late, but the house was clean on the inside. If somebody asked you, you would definitely prefer spending your summer by the pool drinking iced tea, but you couldn't. The image of being surrounded by a big house and a pool reminded you about what Rafe said. Was it true? Were you rich? You couldn't. If your mother had passed, the attorneys would've noticed you, and they would make you go to their office and read some kind of will. They would've reached you.

You went to your dad's room and opened the closet, looking for all of the papers he had from your birth day. The story he always told you was that your mother didn't want you, but he convinced her to continue with the pregnancy, promising her that he would leave her with you under his arm, more like a ham than a baby.

You grabbed a folder with your name on it and started flipping the pages, searching for your mother's name. You knew about the existence of the folders but never had the curiosity to find more about your mother until now.

Grabbing your phone from the back pocket of your short, you started typing your mother's name in the search bar. Results popped up quickly.

"Respected lawyer dies at the age of 47 in a car accident in the Bahamas"

The news was from only a week ago occupying the headline from the digital paper.

She died. A weird discomfort bubbled up your throat. Exiting the browser in your phone, you tapped your bank app and put the password waiting for the main page that said that you only had ten dollars left to appear.

There it was, your ten dollars in your main account.

But under it, there was a new one with more zeroes that you could count.

Shit. Rafe was right.

Author's note: Here she is, the first part. I would say it's part 1 and what comes after it's a 1.5 part because I think that there's no much Rafe here. I SWEAR that he is coming. This is just the beginning. What can you expect from this? I think some sappy, fluff, smut eventually shit but it's coming at its pace, so be patient. I have to build the mc well enough for you you enjoy it. Also there's no love triangle between rafe, main character and JJ (he is just a good friend) and yeah I hope you enjoyed 💖

Taglist:

@sublimepenguinpeach-blog @haruvalentine4321

[sepublic]

Furthermore, Belos is the type of colonizer who loathes a culture, but also feels entitled to it and is pissed off when it doesn’t bend over backwards to his demands. He wanted the glyphs of the Titan but he refused to respect her and her people, her body, her customs, and opted to take it by force; A method needlessly more complicated, difficult, and arduous than just humbling himself and learning on someone else’s terms. 

So to see some people have the fucking gall to treat Belos’ seizure of what is essentially a native resource as some W over that mean and unsuccessful Titan, disparage Luz as ‘not working’ for the glyphs like he did (ignoring how this brown girl actually put in the work of adapting to another culture), and unironically praise his ‘protestant work ethic’ is just… racist! It’s racist!!! 

It’s buying into the conservative strong man myth that Belos got where he did ‘by the grit of his own teeth’, when really he lied to and cheated people who actually put in effort and suffered the consequences for him; He stood on people’s shoulders without consent and attributed their sacrifices as his own like so many American Dream capitalists, instead of appreciating and reciprocating others’ help the way Luz did. It’s buying into the idea that Belos’ atrocities can be overlooked for the sake of admiring how he ‘got things done’, because that’s just the price of success!!! Like I dunno maybe we shouldn’t even jokingly praise a character for being a colonizing thief, a swindling capitalist in all but name.

This reminds me of that time I saw someone’s Road to El Dorado AU where Philip plays the role of one of the white Spanish dudes. Like are you fucking for real. You saw a genocidal white colonizer who impersonates a local religion he has no real understanding over to manipulate the natives for his own selfish ends and you actually said, “Okay but what if we treated it as a cute and good thing this time? What if we treated his blatant disinterest in everything that isn’t seizing the natives’ resources as a teehee trait???” I don’t care if Philip is chill and doesn’t murder people in this version of events. Y’all are just being lowkey, if not outright, racist. 

Belos is an effective satire of right-wing conservatives and radicalized white supremacists, genocidal colonizers who bastardize and appropriate cultures, “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” success stories, entitled abusers with all their excuses, and Christian self-flagellation and savior complexes. Dana based him off of televangelists, cult leaders, and her own conservative relatives. And yet so many people willingly ignore the whole point of Belos’ narrative and themes to reduce him to just “Caleb’s moody brother” or some sadboi victim of religious trauma, as if Philip didn't willingly embrace Puritan ideology regardless of whatever drawbacks it may have had, because it ultimately promised superiority…

And with the AUs that strip Belos of everything that makes him Belos for the sake of some feel-good story that undermines the show’s themes and does his victims dirty, that isn’t even an alternate version that’s just a completely different, made-up guy with none of the depth. How’s he going to learn his lesson in a redemption fic if the first thing the writer does is undo the curse to restore Philip's White Man status that he so obsessively clung onto, and lost for that very reason? How is he going to learn his lesson if the writer can't seem to properly comprehend what exactly he did wrong and the actual reasons for it???

[coldgoldlazarus]

Metroid Movie/TV Series Style Options, from most to least likely, because I have brainrot

- Live action with a more 'realistic' sci-fi aesthetic, probably leaning into the Alien influence. Could be really good, especially as a way to honor that inspiration, but could easily fall flat. Most likely to actually happen, but my least favored. If this is the route taken, I just hope it wouldn't go the way of the Halo Paramount show.

- CGI Animated with style and rendering pretty similar to the games, particularly Prime and Dread. The most simple and sensible option and so also very likely, but also a tad boring just because the games are already doing that.

- Live-action tokusatsu show. Not trying for 'realism' so much as coolness, and just really embracing Samus as a Kamen Rider. Maybe not my preferred option, but I would still love to see it just for the uniqueness of the vibes.

- The sort of in-between compromise between 'realism' and tokusatsu approaches to live-action (plus some very obvious CGI) that characterized the Prime and Fusion commercials. Not very likely at all, and would probably not land as well as just leaning fully into one direction or the other, but it would be a fun and unique approach to see, especially if it has the same sort of blend of genuine moody atmosphere and cheesy tryhard edginess as those commercials.

- 2D Animation, Genndy Tartakovsky directing. Would be super cool and stylized, and probably absolutely nail the atmosphere and indirect narrative style best, but I think outside of that one Clone Wars series, the man prefers to work on his own original projects.

- 2D Animation; just a straight-up Metroid Anime. Not impossible, but tbh probably even less likely just because while it's niche over here, my understanding is that Metroid is ironically not really successful at all in Japan itself. Nintendo has called on western developers for basically every game since Fusion for a reason, and so while they could probably call up Studio Trigger or someone to make it happen, I don't think there's too much inclination to take that route. (Especially if Zelda, the way more anime-plausible series, is being given to Hollywood as is.) But it would be pretty cool.

- That specific fucking excellent blended style that characterized the late 90s and early 00s in animated movies. A mix of like, CGI and Rotoscoping and 2D Animation, Mike Mignola influenced character designs, the works. Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Spirit, The Iron Giant, Titan AE, Lilo & Stitch, Treasure Planet, Sinbad, Road To El Dorado, Tarzan, Emperor's New Groove, Brother Bear, ect. A throwback to the Animation Golden Age IMO, basically. (In particular, Atlantis, Treasure Planet, and Lilo & Stitch having the most direct visual comparison/inspiration.) This would be an utterly perfect style for Bionicle, but work slightly less well for Metroid, admittedly, just given the vibe favors grandiosity more than eeriness, and I also don't expect it to happen at all in the first place. But I want it SO MUCH.

[potato-lord-but-not]

I totally get where you're coming from with the GP movie. Here's a fun question, who would you cast?

here’s the thing- I don’t believe in live action adaptations of discworld books. I just don’t think that’s the way to go. you CANT make groat an actual living person that man was manufactured in the freaky cartoon grandpa factory and you can’t change that. Moist can’t be portrayed by a real person because he’s NOT a real person, he’s the embodiment of the “young white protagonist with brown hair and blue eyes” which can’t really be portrayed by a real person that kind of character needs to be MADE. The way Terry describes characters can best be interpreted through an animated medium like the facial expressions their movements the way they talk THEY NEED TO BE ANIMATED I TELL YOU.

I know I could technically give a cast of voice actors but um. I’m not well versed in actors in general, but it’d definitely be easier to find someone who sounds like a dw character then looks like one.

And and dw in general is just DRIPPING with the same vibes as those early 2000s 2d movies (road to el dorado, treasure planet, etc) like that’s THE medium of choice for me.

sorry for the non-answer um anyway have a good day

[undercoverpan]

Coming home

Spider is dead.

Those are 3 words with a combined number of 12 letters. On average, each word has 4 letters, despite only 1 of them actually having 4 letters. This is the English spelling of it. In fact, when the boy had first been discovered–, sorry, when his body had first been discovered, Norm knelt down, pressed his hands to his neck and pulse and yelled out "Kerusey!" Which is Na'vi for dead. It's used as a one-word sentence here, like 'no' or 'yes'. He had declared Spider was dead with 1 very simple word, pronounced Kerr-oo-sey.

He thinks he recalls screaming after that. "Ma'itan! Ma'itan! Kerusey! Kehe, kehe, ke Ma'itan!" 

He found him rotting somewhere on the forest floor. All broken bones jutting out at odd angles and dried blood and dirt caking his body. He bore no mask and his skin was marred with thin lines across his stomach, arms, legs and back. Most disturbing was his hair, or in this case, the lack thereof. It had been as short as Jake's when he was in the military, with a long scar spanning the entirety of the back of his head. He was dressed in some flimsy medical gown, some parts already chewed up by the animals. His fingernails were bruised and dirty, and he was missing his right pinkie. He had a few missing teeth as well. Weirdly, his body was clean shaven, not a wisp of hair along his arms or legs or anywhere else.

Norm is a father scientist, he knows how you prep someone for surgery. Knows what surgical scars look like too. And once he had his fill of vomiting to the point of not being able to stand; staring dizzily at chunks of the yovo fruit he'd had moments prior; he carried his body to the lab. The human body loses 21 grams, or three-fourths of an ounce, when they die. Spider's body felt lighter than that. He could attribute it to the loss of hair. He knows that dreads, with products like gel or wax–, in Spider's case, oil–, can weigh a bit. Maybe 2 pounds; 3 if he's really pushing it. But no; he was lighter than even that.

He didn't pass anyone walking back to the lab, doing his level best to keep Spider from jostling too much. It was difficult when he had to start climbing back up. He found his legs stiffer than a board. He could barely feel the rocks and dirt beneath his feet, the scenery passing by mutely, melting away like it was never even there. Even sound could not reach him, it all seemed so far away; melting into something that was almost tranquil, like the world around him was nothing more than a sea of grey.

He reaches the lab, opens and closes the airlock and stumbles inside. The ground is cold. Spider is–, Spider is too cold. He has to warm up, and after that, maybe they can talk. He'd been gone for forever, somewhere he couldn't reach. His 'itan, cold and lonely without him. He should bring him to his room, he's tried cleaning it a little bit. Tried to preserve his scent on the blankets and pillows and clothes, keeping the door locked tight so it wouldn't be mixed in with the outside. His favourite was the bed, just laying in it like he used to with Spider when he was a baby, refusing to fall asleep unless someone was holding him. He'd sing little lullabies for him, except he only knew twinkle twinkle little star and he felt Spider deserved variety, so he sang washing machine heart and class of 2013 until he fell asleep.

He should wash Spider off before bed. Yeah, yeah, that'll help. He's going to clean him up and he thinks he'll stick him in one of his big shirts. It's easy, a mind numbing process. Dirt and blood washes away easily, but maybe that's thanks to the lack of body hair. He has Spider in his old Shakira El Dorado t-shirt, he remembers he liked their songs. As he puts Spider to bed, blue hands delicately tucking his blanket to his chin, he thought; why not relive old memories?

"Wherever, whenever, we're meant to be together.." he sings softly, recalling how Spider loved to sing along with him. "I'll be there and you'll be near, and that's the deal my dear."

______

It is not everyday that Max hears singing from Spider's room. He hears it often now, his colleague/husband often trying to reconnect to Spider that way. He always made sure to have a warm cup of tea ready for him when he did. He'd usually find him in Spider's room, clutching at some clothes or blanket, muttering desperate prayers to bring his son home, please, Eywa, let my son come home. 

Today was a surprise. Today Spider lays in his bed and Norm is singing for him. The boy is pale and unmoving, very clearly dead from where he's standing. He dropped to the floor, mug shattering and spilling tea and glass across the floor. 

"Max? Oh, be careful! Here, let me help you." He says, helping Max stand to his shaking legs. His eyes strayed to Spider's eerily still form. "Oh! Oh, Max, it's just wonderful, I found Spider! Eywa returned him to me, she let him come home!"

Max could only look at him with worry. He's dead. The boy is dead. His body is cold, stiff and pale. Their boy is dead. Kerusey. But looking at Norm's face, at the desperate and almost wild look in his eyes, as if begging for him to see what he saw. Their 'itan. Theirs, dead. 

"That's–, that's wonderful, Norm." He says tiredly. "Should I get us some food? Think we still have some episoth seeds left." Norm grins, something brighter than everything he's felt since Spider's kidnapping. 

____

Lil short babie post for u guys because ily <333 dug up an absolute banger from the drabbles and aus graveyard. P sure this is part of an au that's darker than even this lil thang.

Btw:

Ma'itan! Ma'itan! Kerusey! Kehe, kehe, ke Ma'itan! Means - My son! My son! Dead! No, no, not my son!

[runningfrom2am]

Okay pls make a part three when they get together

i wasn’t even sure i would do a part three but it was in high demand so i had to give it a shot and omg i do not regret it- they are so cute!!

hard to carry (III)

part one, two

masterlists

send more requests here!

pairing: jj x kook!reader

wc: 2.6k

You and JJ very quickly become inseparable. You just get along so well, and all the guilt you had built up about having this crush on a committed man was quickly lost when he told you about his and Kie's break up- the same night you went to The Wreck, and the same night you went for that drive. If she had cheated anyway, it's only fair that he left that relationship. It's the right thing to do.

He told you all about everything they had been through, the gold, the cross, and finally El Dorado, which made him and his friends the richest pogues on the island. Still pogues, though, nonetheless.

"Mom! Hey, come here!" You call to her, seeing her sitting on the back porch, looking over your families expansive property. She looks down over the balcony and lifts her sunglasses, smiling as her eyes land on the two of you walking towards the stairs. She quickly gets up, opening the gate at the top. "This is JJ. I told you I had a friend." You giggle and she smiles, holding her hand out to him to shake.

"It's so lovely to meet you!" She says as JJ quickly shakes her hand. "I will admit, we were skeptical that Y/N had actually made a friend already."

"Yeah, you too, Mrs. Y/L/N." JJ grins, looking between you and your mom. He can tell she looked a lot like you when she was young.

"Why does that surprise you?" You ask, playfully raising an eyebrow at her.

She waves you off with a laugh, stepping back over to the table by her sun chair and putting her glasses down. "You just haven't been out doing much other than going for runs or doing errands."

"Well, she did help me pick out the second best watermelon the grocery store had." JJ shrugs, nudging you gently with his shoulder. Your mom smiles at the two of you. The look in his eyes is something else, and in yours she sees something she's never seen before.

"Why don't you kids join your father and I for a glass of wine? We've got some fruit cut up in the kitchen and if you want to grab a bottle from the cellar that would be great." Your mom suggests, and you nod, giddy as you head for the door.

JJ hesitates to follow you, stopping in front of the door instead of stepping in. "Ma'am, I should let you know I'm only nineteen."

"And?" Your mom asks casually as she sits back down. "So's Y/N. Besides, a glass of wine has never hurt anyone."

"What about beer?" JJ laughs, looking at her hopefully.

"Okay maybe beer has, but what happens at the summer house stays at the summer house. Knock yourself out." She grins, shaking her head as she returns to her book and JJ steps inside after you, sliding the patio door shut.

He's never been to your house before, since previously as you got to know each other you stuck with beach walks and car sits, or JJ showing you places around the island you haven't seen. He wasn't prepared for the almost clinical state of the newly built mansion, hardly lived in despite you being here for almost two months.

JJ whistles in awe at the home, which echos off the walls as he looks around and follows you blindly down the hall and into the large open kitchen.

You walk up to a cupboard and pull out four glasses, two for beer and two for wine, placing them on the counter. JJ is speechless. Not just because of the home, but because something about seeing you in it makes it that much more beautiful. Everything looks hardly lived in and almost sterile, but seeing the spotless white cupboards contrasted with the tone of your clothes, your hair, your skin; just makes him feel a level of content he's never encountered before.

"Mind grabbing some beers from the fridge?" You ask, drawing him out of his thoughts just as you look up and catch him staring.

"Yep, I'm on it." JJ nods, and you point to a wine cooler under the countertop by the sink.

"Can you pour those out? I'll run down and grab a bottle. I'll be like thirty seconds." You say, not giving him a chance to respond before you're hurrying out of the room and he can hear your feet hit the floor as you run down the stairs.

JJ gets going on doing what you asked, cracking one can open and lifting the cup to pour it's contents in without spilling anything. "Hey- can I help you, kid?" A deep voice makes him jump, spilling a little in the process.

"Uh- sorry, no, Y/N just asked me to pour these out. I think this one is yours." JJ says, sliding the now full cup over to the man who he assumes is your father.

"Oh. Are you Jake?" He asks, taking the glass and pointing towards JJ with one finger so he doesn't drop it.

"JJ, yeah." JJ nods, chuckling slightly.

"JJ, right. Sorry. I should probably know your name if you're gonna be in my house drinking my beer." Your dad laughs, living the cup to his lips and taking a sip.

An awkward silence falls over the room while JJ pours the second drink, praying internally that you'll come back before he has to make more small talk, he doesn't know what he would say. He doesn't know a lot about what your dad does for work, which is the default discussion topic for men first meeting each other, but all he knows is he's some big wig on Wallstreet, which he's never understood anyways. "So, Y/N/N mentioned you and your friends found that treasure, hey? That's pretty cool." Luckily your dad takes it upon himself to fill the silence instead.

"Yeah, yeah. El Dorado." JJ nods, taking the cans and putting them in the recycling.

"Did you at least get to keep any of it?" Your dad asks, smiling at him.

"Kind of, not exactly. It was complicated, legal stuff and all that. Our payouts came from somewhere else." JJ shrugs.

"Ah." Your dad nods. "So you're not working, then, I imagine?"

"Dad." You sigh, walking back into the kitchen and placing the wine bottle on the counter as JJ relaxes.

"I'm just wondering, honey." Your dad chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a quick squeeze, kissing the side of your head.

"Well, I am still working, actually." JJ decides to answer. "My buddy, John B, he took his money and opened a surf shop down on the touristy part of town, so I'm working there right now. Helpin' him out, it's lots of fun."

"Oh nice! Good to have something to do, I would get bored without work for too long." Your dad says, letting you go so you can pour the two glasses of wine.

"Dad, come sit with us outside!" You smile, taking the two glasses and heading for the door, JJ right on your heels. He's nervous to be left without you again, despite your parents seemingly being way nicer than any other kooks he's met. Especially Kie's parents- it was no secret they despised him. No doubt they were ecstatic to hear about the breakup- but him and Kie's mutual friends now won't tell him a word about it.

The four of you sit outside and talk for hours, watching the sunset and even squeezing in dinner when everyone got a little hungry. It made you so happy that JJ just fit right in with your parents- not that you were official, for gods sake he just came out of a serious long-term relationship, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't hoping that would change. It was nice that you weren't bringing home a boyfriend to meet your parents, that always made for a tense situation. This was so casual because he was just a friend. Your parents saw through that, though, not that you could tell.

By the time it was almost eleven, you left to drive JJ home, which was now temporarily John B and Sarah's house on the cut. You didn't understand the legal situation with JJ and Kie's house, unsure of whether they were both signed on it or just her, but he didn't intend on ever going back after he got all his stuff.

"Sorry, oh my god they ate up our whole night." You laugh as you get in the car, starting it up and turning down the radio before it blasted in your ears. You only had the one glass of wine a few hours earlier, knowing you would need to drive JJ home later and you didn't want to put him out for an uber or anything. You internally curse yourself for not having a few and just asking if he wanted to stay over.

"No, it's cool. They're really nice." JJ shrugs as he gets in.

"Yeah, I love my parents." You sigh happily, buckling your seatbelt and pulling down the long driveway.

"I think they liked me. Maybe." JJ thinks out loud, drumming his hands on his lap.

"Of course they liked you." You giggle, glancing over at him.

"Sweet, I can drink for free there all summer." He jokes and you nod.

"Well, we're going back to New York in about a month, so as much as you can drink in that time."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." JJ says, his mood immediately dampened by the realization that you have to leave. Suddenly he doesn't know what life was like before you, and his stomach turns at the idea of there being an after you. "Didn't you want to stay, though?"

"Of course I want to stay." You answer instantly. "I just... I doubt my parents will let me." You say sadly, focusing now on the road with both hands holding the wheel.

"Well it's not like you'll be alone, you'll have me." JJ smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "And they loved me so obviously they'll say yes."

"True... but it's more about me being alone in that big house. They don't think I'm ready to live on my own, even though I'm nineteen. I doubt they'll ever be ready, though. That's kind of parenting 101." You shrug, chewing on your lip. You want nothing more in the world than to stay, and get to spend all year with him; driving around, learning to surf, maybe getting a job at John B's surf shop like JJ said you could. It’s just a matter of getting your parents to agree.

“Well…” JJ hesitates over what he wants to say next. “I could move in, keep you company, take care of the property and stuff. Like a roommate.”

Your eyes flicker over to him quickly, your cheeks turning red. That would be the perfect solution for both of you, but the idea of living under the same roof as JJ, alone, has you blushing like crazy. “I- uh, yeah! Yeah, that would solve both our problems, wouldn’t it?” You can’t resist agreeing, and it’s not like he’s a total stranger. You’ve known him for almost two months, most of that time being spent together if he wasn’t at work. You trust him, and you just mesh so well- you can’t deny that fact.

“Totally.” JJ nods, smiling a little and looking down at his lap for a moment. “Maybe by then, though, less like a roommate.”

“Huh? Like a live in maid? That’s a generous offer JJ but my parents already have a cleaner.” You joke, making him roll his eyes.

“No, not like a maid. Have you seen John B’s house?” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I meant, like, maybe in a month, when your parents leave, I’ll be more like… I don’t know, more like a boyfriend than a roommate.” He says hopefully, suddenly noticing how quiet the music is and wishing it was louder so he didn’t have to dwell on what he just said.

“I…” You start to speak, blinking a few times to gather your thoughts. Of course you would love that. You’ve had so many feelings towards him since you first saw him, when he first spoke to you. That is what you wanted, admittedly, but is he asking now? Or is he joking? You can’t really tell, but it sounds like he’s serious. “I mean, maybe.” You shrug, going with a casual answer as you lean over to look out the window and pull into John B’s driveway.

“Maybe…” JJ mutters under his breath, nodding a little and fiddling with the ring on his finger.

You put the car in park and turn to him, lifting your legs up onto the seat in front of you and sitting criss cross after pulling off your seatbelt. Rarely ever did you get to the house and sit there for anything less than forty minutes, just talking about everything under the sun. “Is that what you want?” You ask softly, and he keeps his eyes locked on his hands as he shrugs.

“I mean, yeah. It is.”

“I just don’t want you to feel obligated for anything if you’re not ready, you’ve been through so much with the whole Kiara situation, I just want you to be comfortable first.” You explain, smiling softly at him as he looks up at you.

“I’ve never been more comfortable, Y/N. Ever. Like in my whole life.” JJ chuckles a bit. “Since I saw you at the grocery store I’ve been comfortable. Seriously.”

“Okay, that’s real sweet, but-“

“You’re my person! Do you see that too? I just- I don’t even know what it was about you, Y/N/N, I just saw you and I knew I had to talk to you. I didn’t even want a watermelon- I don’t even like them that much. They’re just kind of okay, I wanted one because you wanted one, because you were there. And after that, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you and I had to distract myself so I wouldn’t text you, so I wouldn’t cheat but I knew before I even left the store that I couldn’t be with Kie anymore I just couldn’t-” JJ rambles on, only breaking eye contact when he gestures with his hands to make sure he doesn’t hit anything.

You shake your head a little bit while he talks, trying to keep your smile from spreading too wide- you don’t want to scare him off, but hearing this makes your heart want to leap out of your chest.

You reach across the seat and place your hand on his cheek and he stops talking, his gaze falling quickly to your lips before back up to your eyes, and in a second he’s leaning over the centre console and pressing your lips together, his hands landing on your waist. He’s holding onto you so tight, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he just feels so good. So light, even, like nothing else in the world matters in this moment. To you, it doesn’t.

You pull away after what must have been a minute, giggling a little to yourself and looking down at your lap.

“Just please don’t go.” JJ mutters, leaning his forehead against your own.

“I don’t plan on it.” You whisper back, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “But if I have to, I think I can hear New York calling your name.” You laugh slightly- neither of you can ever resist a good joke or jab at one another.

JJ laughs a little at this, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. But for you, maybe I’d give it a try.”

guys i know y’all love this but this may have to be the last part unless i get a specific request for what should happen next bc i honestly do not know lol. tysm for reading and all the love!!

-Raye

taglist: @outerbankszn, @wh0reforbucknasty, @enamoredofbella, @maybankspov, @always-reading, @casualsludgeshoetoad, @sagcas-latte, @taurusvic, @madelynie, @mutual-mendes, @slut4drudy, @winterrrnight, @totalswag, @sadfury, @peachprairie, @dilvcv, @justtrying2getby, @maybaenk