#I’ve done this reservoir dogs | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mlobsters · 9 months

Text

supernatural s12e12 stuck in the middle (with you) (w. davy perez)

unfortunate that that song has forever been associated with that reservoir dogs scene in my brain

not sure why this scene reminds me of the movie diner (1982), paul reiser on the brain and a group i guess

DEAN [leaning across the table to talk to Cas] Oh, dude, she is into you. WALLY Mm hmm. MARY Dean… DEAN No, this is good. We’ve been looking for teachable moments. This…

i dunno why i have such a bad attitude about the show right now. partially attributable to my overall depressed ennui situation.

ok so is this scene a reference to reservoir dogs? i recently saw the madonna discussion roundtable diner scene thing from the beginning of the movie (haven't seen in 20+ years) and oof. i didn't particularly enjoy the movie when i saw it originally and my feelings have not improved

job going sideways and bloody, set to an old song, certainly tracks with tarantino. it was a good scene, they say staring dispassionately. cas is leaking

and the title cards and jumping around in time. okay. guess we're really going there

s12e12 / s2e17 heart

ahh how things have changed/not changed (incl my screenshotting habits).

s12e12 / s1e22 / s2e1

well that sound effect when he flashes his eyes is a blast from the past. had to go find out if they did in fact use it for azazel way back when and look at that, yes. i associate it with the title screens more - so i included that too. giving my brain a little pat on the head. *rawr*

very drama, very nice shot. is that the spear of destiny? i thought that was at the bunker. did they do anything with it? can't remember. (lalala the blog search OF COURSE didn't return that post when i searched for destiny. or spear. fucking tumblr fix your shit i'm begging you)

s8e17 / s12e12 / constantine (2005)

WALLY I-I just mean, I-I heard the sales pitch– money, gear. It all sound swell, but someone walks up to you and offers you something that sounds a little too good to be true? I wonder, what’s the catch? MARY Since I’ve been working with them, we’ve taken out more than a dozen vamp nests, four werewolf packs, and a ghoul who was eating his way through Arlington. We saved a lot of people. WALLY Right. So you do trust them.

one way to deal with the american hunter problem i guess, earn the trust and turn them into cannon fodder

WALLY You meet them fancy Men of Letters? SAM British Men of Letters? DEAN Yeah, they got gear, but, uh, you know they tried to kill my brother.

reminds me a bit of how sam is willing to stow baggage for practical reasons, mary willing to work with them if it's for the greater good

from s9e22 stairway to heaven DEAN And the last time you had this kind of juice, you did kill humans and angels, and you did nothing but lie to me and Sam about it the whole damn time! SAM Can we, uh -- can we take this somewhere else, guys? Will you stow the baggage, Dean. Look, we've got a case. Let's work it. Cas, did you know the angel in that video?

SAM Wait, Mom? Uh… I just wanted to make sure that, um… you’re okay. I mean, I know… you never really wanted this. MARY Since when is life about getting what you want?

kind of a throwaway comment but also hits a little too close to home

s12e12 / s4e22

thought it might be the same painting as what was in that little fancy jail zachariah put him in during 4x22 but no, different spearing

really, show. i feel like they've done this pulp fiction sight gag before?

s5e14 my bloody valentine

lol they did, it was a soul in the briefcase

mary gonna own up to all this?

CROWLEY Your friend was stupid. You’re all… Do you know what you’ve done? Does the name Ramiel mean anything to you? SAM, DEAN, AND MARY: No. CASTIEL Yes. SAM What? CASTIEL Ramiel, Prince of Hell.

this is me throwing my hands in the air. sure, why not! never mentioned before but hey another harder-than-usual to kill baddie. did we know azazel was ... a prince of hell? also chuckled that when searching for prince you do get the canon discrepancies page about the inconsistent effect the demon knife has on various ranks of demons

and more pulp fiction, polishing a pocket watch for no reason

the lance of michael, i see. so this is six years ago crowley gives it to this prince dude, which would be s6? after michael was tucked away in the cage, he snagged it? and we're gonna retcon in some explanation of how crowley ended up with the king of hell job while multiple members of royalty were out and about

CROWLEY I don’t have friends. I make deals with those I can use. Every kingdom needs allies, even Hell. RAMIEL Allies. Is that what you call three humans with one good liver between them and a busted up angel?

snorted but also, mary got an alcohol problem too? unless sam's doin it on the side

CROWLEY I admit they don’t sound like much. But every Armageddon, every bloody, “this is the end of all things,” a Winchester stopped it. Like it or not, they’re an asset we can’t afford to lose.

crowley selling it well (but also, facts. they might start the armageddon, but they will also stop it)

CASTIEL No, you listen to me. You– Look, thank you. Thank you. Knowing you, it… it’s been the best part of my life. And the things that… [inhales sharply] the things we’ve shared together, they have changed me. You’re my family. I love you. I love all of you. Just please… please, don’t make my last moments be spent watching you die. Just run. Save yourselves. And I will hold Ramiel off as long as I can.

oh now cas gets a dramatic deathbed goodbye that won't stick

DEAN Cas, no. CASTIEL Yes. You need to keep fighting. SAM We are fighting. We’re fighting for you, Cas. DEAN And like you said, you’re family. And we don’t leave family behind.

admit i giggled at sam's like, it was a little too cheesy earnest. and tried to not giggle at dean's line. it's just too much! the music, the delivery. rousing

so mary is so committed to keeping whatever she stole from him, she's willing to role the dice and fight him? maybe that was the plan anyway. too tired to think this through :p

and crowley gets to save the (cas) day by figuring out the cure is breaking the spear of destiny the lance of michael, ok

conveniently, mary gets a pass on having to explain stealing the thing. god i do not like the homage to tarantino movie music either, what a surprise.

MARY That’s not good enough. I lost a friend. I almost lost one of my boys. KETCH And we apologize– MARY Shut up. Anything like that happens again– anything– and I will burn you down. All of you. KETCH Is that a threat? MARY It’s a promise.

has mary adopted cas too? and i like mary staring down this asshat like a boss

the colt???? oookay.

i know that voice, is it my true lucifer love mark pellegrino??? he's so much better at being creepy

LUCIFER [laughing] Ah. I know that look. Sam and Dean have got you down. Well, I still can’t believe that you’re working for the Dukes of Haphazard. Do you really think they care about you? I mean, think about it, Crowley. They kill your kind. It’s in their blood. And you know… you know… it’s only a matter of time before they come… [singsongy] for you.

dukes of haphazard lol

so they had to keep him in some elaborate cage in hell before, but now he's trapped in some little kennel in the topside "palace"?

this episode might be a record. took 2 days to get through it and probably 4 hours total. too much shit i felt the need to comment on or needed to look something up for. for the literally zero people that will ever read it. wait no, 1 person! i will read it and reference it

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 12x12 #blood #davy perez #spn clip #spn 1x22 #spn 2x01 #spn musical score #spn demon growl #christopher lennertz

1 note · View note

alemercadodraws · 5 months

Text

FallOut

Who is watching Fallout? I never played the game so I don't know how much they are sticking to the story or not. In any case I have a few observations around how normalised explicit violence has become. When Reservoir Dogs came out 32 years ago, I remember feeling something similar after the outrage it caused. But mainstream films now (from PG movies like all the Marvel ones), video games are way more explicit than anything directed to a wide audience done before. Even though they are rated for 12+ , they all seem to be directed to those eternal 18 years old who haven't grown out of it and cannot keep their attention in what they are watching unless blood and guts are thrown at them. Explicit violence has been a central element of sub-genres of every cultural expression (I am really into extreme metal for instance). I've always managed to fly over the violent bits and see them just as an aesthetic device (that, I have to admit, I tolerate less and less). But in the case of FallOut its explicit violence seems to be completely gratuitous in a really well produced and well written TV Show that would be much better without it. What do you think? ______________________ #illustration #videogames #publishing #digitalillustration #dark #ipadprocreate #drawing #graphite #graphitedrawing #ireland #irishartist #pattern #illustrator #creepy #eerie #characterdesign #lineart #instaart #instaartist #woodblock #traditional #horror #literature

0 notes

passerine-writes · 8 months

Text

Silent Sparks - Volt 80

Warnings: More angst, a lot of medical and hospital stuff (i am NOT a medical professional, i’ve merely had bad experiences with doctors), talk of de*th, ptsd and a flash back, some fluff because I couldn’t bring myself to write all angst, we get back to business in the next chapter Word count: 4720

Notes: Italics - Tsukare signing Bold italics - Family member/friend signing 'Italics with apostrophes' - Thoughts

Masterlist

Volt 79 | Volt 81

The first thing Tsukare felt was the fog clearing in his head, the weight lifting off of his body ever so slightly. Then he fully felt someone holding his hand, it was no longer the sensation of it barely existing, he could feel the warm and comforting touch. Slowly, he peaked open his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the room. Taking a shaky breath, he slowly took in the familiar surroundings of a hospital room before saying something.

“I’m never going in a vent system again.” Tsukare mumbled with a hoarse throat. He saw several people in the room. Dad, Pops, Hitoshi and Denki. Denki was already holding his hand when his Pops rushed over and cupped his face, slowly taking the oxygen mask off and setting it to the side.

“You scared us, little listener.” He said tearfully.

“I’m sorry. I heard most of what was said while I was out, I’m glad my plan worked.” Onryo managed to get out. His Dad held a cup of water for him with a straw and he gratefully took a sip. “How long have I been out?”

“Six days.” Denki said, making sure his lips could be read.

“Shit.” Tsukare muttered, the brain fog slowly lifting. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t listen to my gut the right way, I had- I had a bad feeling. I wanted to find out why instead.” He said through heavy breaths, the weight not quite lifting.

“Don’t apologize for that. We’ve all done that. I’m just glad you’re alive.” He said, his face telling another story.

“Dad? What happened while I was out?” He asked, sitting himself up more, ignoring the pain in his side. Aizawa licked his lips nervously, eyes bouncing to Denki for a moment. You can say it in front of him. Tsukare signed loosely, knowing that’s where his current concern was being placed. He sighed and took a deep breath.

“Onryo, your heart stopped twice while they did surgery to find what was bleeding internally.” He said slowly while signing. It felt like the world stopped spinning on its axis, everything was now nothing and Onryo was floating in it.

“My heart problem caught up to me?” He asked weakly. Kaminari looked terrified hearing the news.

“The doctors said a lot of the stress caught up with your body, and mixing that with your heart problem..”

“It was a bad mix.” He finished for his Pops. He nodded slightly and I took a deep shaky breath. “How’re my ears?”

“Still the same. They took a look at everything and said the damage hasn’t changed.” Hitoshi said, finally speaking.

“What else happened?” He finally asked, knowing something else wasn’t being said.

“Can Onryo and I have a minute?” Aizawa asked, nobody argued with him. Denki gave Onryo a quick kiss on the cheek and left with Hitoshi and Yamada. Aizawa handed his son his hearing aids and watched as he slowly put them in. “I need to fill you in on the cover story.” Onryo simply nodded and paid attention to what he said. “You, Fatgum and everyone involved on the stake out were investigating a warehouse after getting intel that the Reservoir Dogs had a facility where they were illegally making drugs. You had a warrant and they sent you in to scoop out the area because of your quirk but there was a small leak in one of the gas lines. The fumes mixed with an open chemical and caused a chain reaction of explosions, trapping you inside.” Tsukare nodded along, the cover story not too far off of the real reason they were there. “The press was told that you’re in Matsushita Memorial Hospital, when in reality you’re in Hirakata City Hospital. That way in case they are trying to tail you, they’re led somewhere else. Fat Gum even talked to a reporter outside to make it more believable.”

“And what’s the real story?” Tsukare asked, needing to know what happened after he blacked out.

“Three bombs went off before you fell into the rubble. Your left hand was crushed in a pile of concrete and breathing in the debris, you needed a few breathing treatments. Even though Nedzu was able to pull a few strings, it took about an hour for Higari to get out there with Tetsutetsu. After that, it didn’t take long to get you out but your breathing was labored and your heart was barely beating. We believe that the Hassaikai started keeping tabs on you and Fat Gum’s agency because of the bullet the criminal had at Kirishima’s debut.”

“Okay.” He whispered, taking in everything he said.

“You know what I’m going to say.” Aizawa solemnly stated.

“The only way I’m not going on this mission is if Nighteye or Fat Gum tells me I’m not.” He told his Dad sternly. He sighed and hung his head.

“Once you’re out of here, we’re sparring. If you’re in good enough shape to spar me, then you can go.” Tsukare rolled his eyes but nodded.

“Win or lose, I’m still going.” He stated, he was already too involved in this, he can’t miss the mission now.

“Onryo, you almost died, just like him.” He paused and took a strained breath. “When you said you didn’t think you would make it out of there, it felt like the world stopped. It terrified me. We already almost lost you once, and to go through that a second time, I couldn’t take it. I know this is how you and your brother and Sunshine have felt before, I’ve had that same feeling before with your Pops, but I was never prepared to feel that with you and Hitoshi.” He licked his lips nervously and Onryo simply let him take his time. Opening up never was any of their strong suits. “I don’t have a good feeling about you going on this mission. At all. I don’t. Between the Hassaikai tailing you and the League being involved, on top of the League having an interest in you, something’s not right. I know this won’t change your mind, but I needed you to at the very least hear me out.” Tsukare reached up to give him a hug, his arms wrapping around his fathers shoulders.

“I’ll be safe, Dad. I’m always as safe as I can possibly be. A mission isn’t going to scare me out of this. I want to help people. It’s my dream.” He lightly nodded and ran a hand over his sons hair tenderly.

“I know, kid.” He sighed and gave him a small pat on his head before answering the phone. He curtly hung it up and turned towards Onryo. “Fat Gum’s here to check on you, he should be up any-”

“Kid! You’re okay!” Fat Gum announced as he swung the door open. “Heard that you just woke up, so I had to stop in and see you!”

“Hey Fat.” Onryo breathed out, giving him a weak smile.

“What’s the word? When you getting out of here?” He asked excitedly, clearly trying to keep his spirits up.

“I might be able to help with those questions. And you would be Tsukare Onryo, better known as Sonus, correct?” The topaz haired boy awkwardly nodded, Fat Gum giving him a firm pat on his shoulder before leaving. Yamada came in after him and sat beside Aizawa. “I’m sorry but per HIPAA laws, only immediate family is allowed in the room.” Onryo rolled his eyes and sighed, albeit a little dramatically.

“They’re my parents. Can we just hurry this up? I’m not a huge fan of hospitals.” She slowly nodded and stepped forward, closing the door behind her.

“I’m Doctor Endo, I assisted your surgeon in the operating room.” She went on to explain what his Dad did, about his hand and his heart, that he was in a medically induced coma, etcetera. “We currently have you on a saline drip to keep you hydrated and a naproxen drip to ease any pain or discomfort you might be feeling. And how does your hearing seem to be doing?” He stared at her blankly before taking out his hearing aids.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s changed, I still need these after all.” She awkwardly nodded and scribbled something on her clipboard.

“Alright, and do you feel any pain or discomfort?” He shook his head a little and popped his hearing aids back in. “Do you have any nausea, sensitivity to light, sensitivity to sound, head aches, blurred vision, or difficulty focusing?”

“No, I just have shortness of breath and withdrawal symptoms.” She looked at her chart quizzically, merely glancing at it before looking at his parents.

“I’m sorry, is he struggling with addiction currently?” She asked hesitantly.

“He’s on a few medications and addiction runs in his genetics. After being on certain things for so long, his body has grown a dependency on them.” She slowly nodded and looked through the chart more thoroughly.

“Okay, and uh, you said you were experiencing shortness of breath? Mind if I just take a listen real quick?” Tsukare simply nodded and let her untie the front portion of his hospital gown. He had the displeasure of watching her eyes widen in silent horror at what she saw. “Take a few deep breathes for me.” She mumbled, lip reading saving him from missing what she said. He followed her instructions as she moved the stethoscope across his chest. “It sounds like you still have some of the dust in your lungs, I’m going to get you started on oxyg-” She paused while looking at the oxygen mask set to the side. “Did someone come in and remove this already?” She quickly asked, grabbing the offending medical equipment.

“We took it off. I don’t wear masks, I have PTSD.” She managed to repress a scoff before turning to Tsukare with it.

“Unfortunately, you have to wear this if you want to get the debris out of your lungs. Just lean forward for me real quick.” She said in a tone you would use to get close to a scared animal.

“Just lean forward for me. That’s it.” Kasumi said in a sickly saccharine voice before Tsukare felt the metal over his mouth and the leather across his face.

Muted screams left his body with hyperventilation. His breathing short, eyes blurry.

‘Take it off.’

‘I was good.’

‘I didn’t use my quirk.’

‘I promise.’

‘What did I do?’

‘Make it stop.’

He came out of the flashback with his hand gripping her wrist. Everyone in the room watched as he sat there unmoving.

“You are not putting that on me.” Onryo told her firmly, his voice cold, void of emotion.

“Onryo.” Yamada said gently, moving next to her and grabbing his sons hand. “Breathe. Breathe it out. You don’t have to put it on.” He said carefully, putting some distance between him and the doctor. Onryo took a shaky breath, his body starting to shake as well. “It’s okay, you don’t have to wear it.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” He managed to whisper. He saw his Dad sign something but didn’t process it, only hearing the muffled click of the door opening. His brother and his boyfriend came in slowly, concern and confusion written all over their faces.

“Onryo. Are you alright waiting in here with Hitoshi and Kaminari? Your Pops and I need to have a word with the doctor outside.” Onryo nodded slightly, able to see the rage on his Dad’s face.

Aizawa and Yamada walked out into the hallway with Doctor Endo, it didn’t take long before the sound hero started tearing into her.

“I have half a mind to get you fired right now, lady! You had no right to try and force that mask on you, especially after he confided in you! Did you even go to med school? Pass your boards? Anything! We want to talk to your supervisor, now!” He demanded, livid that she set off one of his children into a state of panic.

“Sir, I understand your concern, but please understand where I’m coming from with this. He needs oxygen.” She tried to reason.

“Then I suggest you look at it from our perspective. One of our children almost died, his heart stopped. Twice. He’s already terrified of hospitals because most of the time you treat him as inhuman. You looked at him as if he was a monster back there. He told you no to an option because he has PTSD, you’re meant to search for another option unless you hit a dead end. Then you tried to force it on him physically. So I suggest that you direct us to one of your higher ups before you lose your job and your reputation because my husband and I are not afraid of socially humiliating you and elaborating on how ignorant your actions were today.” The doctor seemed to pale at Aizawa’s demeanor and started leading the parents towards the chiefs office.

“How mad are they?” Tsukare nervously asked his brother.

“They aren’t mad at you. They’re pissed with the doctor.” Shinsou explained, sitting in one of the chairs.

Tsukare just sat there silently, shaking in his spot as Kaminari held one of his hands before he got an idea. He tapped on the back of his boyfriends hand, catching Onryo’s attention and making him weakly smile while he slid into the hospital cot beside him. An arm wrapped around the shorter boys shoulder and he curled into Kaminari’s side, melting into his warmth. Something he hasn’t realized he had been searching for until that moment. His breaths were still labored and his chest was heavy, but Kaminari was startled at how cold his boyfriend was. His boyfriend who normally ran warmer than a grandma’s oven during the holidays, was cold. He looked at Shinsou with wide eyes and mouthed a few simple words to him.

Get help.

In two seconds, Shinsou was out the door and to the nurses station, dragging a nurse back in with him. Denki slowly got up and sat next to his lover again, holding his hand gently.

“What seems to be the issue?” The nurse asked quickly, a young lady in her mid twenties, clearly meaning business as she thoroughly looked at his chart.

“I know this is going to sound crazy, but he’s cold.” The nurse looked at the blond confused. “He’s never cold. He’s having a hard time breathing and he’s freezing, something isn’t right.” Denki said, clearly distressed.

“Tsukare?” The nurse asked, getting a hum as a response. She grabbed her stethoscope and listened closely, eyes darting back and forth between the monitor and the boy on the cot. She hit the nurse station button, getting two more people in there immediately. “I need an oxygen mask and a crash cart, now!” She turned back to the teenagers frantically as she got her hair up and gloves on. “Both of you out, now, you don’t need to see this, where are his parents?”

“Our parents are talking to the chief cause the last doctor screwed up.” Hitoshi rushed out. Kaminari was already being ushered out by one of the nurses. “I’m not leaving, he’s my brother.”

“You aren’t going to help by being in here, kid. You need to get outside.”

“You can’t put a mask on him. He needs a cannula.”

“I promise you I know what I’m doing, your brother is in good hands.” She tried to reassure but he shook his head, shoving the hands of a nurse off of him.

“He has severe PTSD, you can’t put a mask on him. That’s why our parents are talking to the chief.” She looked at the other nurse and nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get him a cannula but you have to go wait outside.” Shinsou waited, eyes darting between his brother and the nurse but he finally caved and waited outside. The third nurse escorting him out.

“Hey, is there anything else we need to know?” The man that walked him out asked.

“He can’t have any opioids or addictive pain killers. He was born an addict. He has a heart arrhythmia and a history of blacking out.” The nurse nodded and stood up fully.

“I’ll let her know, you go to the nurses station and ask them to page the chief with a 911 and have your parents sent here.” Shinsou shot up and did just that.

“I can assure you, I hear your concern, but to further ensure the right thing happens-” The chief of surgery’s words slowly died off as he looked at his pager. “We need to continue this later, I just got paged a 911 for.. your son.” Aizawa and Yamada were running out the door and down to Tsukare’s room, finding their son and Kaminari sitting outside distraught.

“Hey, what happened? Tell us what’s going on.” Mic said, crouching down in front of the two.

“I noticed he was cold and he still wasn’t breathing right, so I told Shinsou to go get help.” Kaminari said tearfully. The parents shared a look and knew who had to sit with who. Aizawa sat beside his carbon copy while Present Mic sat beside Kaminari.

“I tried staying in there but they wouldn’t let me. I made sure to tell them to use a cannula and about his medical history.” Shinsou fully said, eyes blearily staring into the ground.

“You both did the right thing.” Aizawa told them sincerely. “When Onryo wakes up again, we’re going to talk to the chief again.” Kaminari and Shinsou nodded, waiting impatiently for the nurses to return. After another ten or so minutes, the door opened.

“Are you Tsukare’s father?” The nurse asked Mic.

“We both are.” She paused for a moment but nodded.

“Tsukare’s stable now. He wasn’t getting enough air, causing everything to slow down. We gave him some epinephrine, hooked him up to oxygen and he seems to be doing a lot better now. He’s already conscious if you’d like to go in.” Yamada thanked her and the four rushed inside.

“Hey.” He said weakly, taking a full breath that was only slightly labored. “Did I black out?” He asked, confused on what happened.

“You didn’t get enough air and it almost didn’t go well.” Aizawa filled in gently.

“Well shit.” He sighed out.

“Hi, Tsukare?” A new voice emerged from the doorway. A man stood there, waiting to come in until he was granted permission so he wouldn’t crowd the room. “I’m Doctor Hayashi. I heard you’ve had quite the turn of events today. How are you feeling?”

“I’m able to breathe easier, so I’m good.” He hummed and jotted something down in his clipboard.

“I’ve been assigned your doctor for the rest of your stay here, I’m also a psychiatrist here at the hospital. Do you mind if we have a chat?” Tsukare scoffed and sat up a little straighter.

“I do mind, actually. Every time I’ve had to go to the hospital, someone calls to get me a psych check cause they think I’m being abused again. I’m not. They’re heroes. I’m a hero in training. They’re my family. I’m safe. And I’m tired of doctors starting to act like they actually give a shit. Where was that when I was actually being abused? When I wasn’t happy in a family that you now want to take me out of?” The doctor paused and stood there awkwardly.

“Tsukare, all I want to do is make sure you have the tools available to help you flourish in life.”

“And I do, that alone tells me you haven’t properly read my chart. I go to therapy regularly, I’m on ADHD meds, antidepressants that double for my anxiety, panic attack medication, I have several doctors I see to ensure I’m healthy. I have resources and I’m using them. Are we done?” Tsukare asked, exhausted at the situation.

“With the psychiatric portion, yes. For my sanity, I’d like to listen to your lungs and check everything over along with making sure you know how to use a nebulizer.” Tsukare gave him a curt nod and sat up a little straighter, going through everything he did earlier with the other doctor. “Alright, everything seems to be looking better already. Do you have any questions for me?”

“What’s my diet?” He asked weakly.

“I’m sorry?” The doctor asked, confused that a child would ask that question.

“I’m gonna be honest, doc, this isn’t my first trip to the hospital, and I doubt it’ll be the last. It’s not my first surgery. It’s not my first recovery. And when it comes to something serious, I’m very blunt and I’d appreciate that same courtesy.” He paused and took a deep breath. “So what’s my diet?”

“I’d like to place you on a liquid diet for a few days to see how you’re stomaching those then gradually get you back to solids.”

“Okay, and uh, when am I getting my meds?”

“Within the next hour. Anything else?”

“Yeah, how long am I staying here for?”

“I want to keep you here for two nights for observation, ensure that once we take you off of oxygen you’re still stable and monitor you.” Tsukare shot him a thumbs up and slowly sunk back into the pillows a bit.

“Sounds like a plan.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“Then I’ll be on my way. Let me or one of the nurses know if you need anything.” Doctor Hayashi said before leaving.

“Pops, did you really have to show the picture of me to Denki?” He asked with a huff of breath for a laugh.

“It’s not a bad picture.” Yamada reasoned, slowly reaching up and ruffling his sons hair.

“And ADHD word play?” Everyone laughed hearing that, something that only had good memories associated with it.

Everyone sat and talked for a while, enjoying the moment of knowing Tsukare was alive and well. Aizawa managed to put a lid on his distaste for his son growing up and having a boyfriend, knowing it was one of the few things bringing him joy and sanity at the moment. Kaminari stayed until visiting hours were over, him and Shinsou going back to the dorms for the evening. Once visiting hours were over though, the chief of surgery came down and asked to have a word with the parents again.

“Can I come?” Tsukare asked.

“Uh, I’m sorry, but I think this conversation would be best kept between adults.” He tried to reason gently but Onryo wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“And it’s about me. My health and the fact that I almost died due to medical negligence is what’s being talked about. I should be involved and allowed to have some sort of say or input.” He quipped, the doctor looking at Aizawa and Yamada in confusion.

“He’s always been a strong medical advocate for himself, we’re not going to stop him from wanting to know directly what’s going on with him.” Aizawa explained tiredly.

“Very well, better to learn sooner rather than later, I suppose.” He awkwardly chuckled and led the three back to his office, Tsukare being pushed in a wheelchair by his Pops. “I would like to start by saying, I assure you that this will be taken care of accordingly. This won’t be overlooked. To prove my sincerity, Doctor Endo is on her way to apologize for what occurred earlier.” Tsukare scoffed and waited until the door slid open to reveal the doctor from earlier, the girl looking nervous as she stepped into the room.

“I would like to formally apologize for my actions earlier, to you, the parents and to you, Tsukare. I handled that in a very unprofessional matter and I will ensure to do better in the future.” She said, her hands folded in front of her.

“I don’t believe you.” Tsukare stated dryly, everyone turning to him in disbelief.

“Now, son-”

“Don’t call me ‘son’.” Tsukare shot back to the chief. “That’s a bullshit, well rehearsed speech that every hospital makes staff learn in case something went wrong. Neither of you seem to be able to comprehend how horrific that was.” He turned his attention back to Doctor Endo. “I’m already terrified of going to hospitals. I grew up that way. But whenever I had to go, I always favored having a female doctor because compared to guys, you tend to look at the small things that may not matter. From my experience, woman take care of children at least a little better, and any time I’ve had a woman for a doctor they’ve been able to overlook me having two dad’s or being gay myself. Usually men get more dismissive and standoffish and overall perturbed at the fact unless they’re gay or want to think of themself as a cool bro-dad who’s cool with anything and everything under the sun. Doctor Endo, you lost my trust and respect today, and that’s not something easy to get back from someone. So aside from you getting clearly discomforted about me having two Dad’s, you couldn’t even try and hide the look of disgust and horror on your face when you saw my scars. But I still had a small amount of hope that you would be a good doctor towards me, despite the fact that you never even read my chart.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way for you to possibly know that.” The chief interjected, mildly offended at the child’s open statements.

“I told her I could feel my body going through withdrawal, her first question was if I was a recovering addict. If my family knows I have to go to the hospital, they bring my file with them to save time getting records from other hospitals and databases. It says in my file that I was born an addict because my birth mother was abusing opioids when she was pregnant with me. Aside from my list of medications, diagnoses and treatments, yeah, she didn’t read it.” The chief simply sat there in disbelief but didn’t say anything. “I was willing to overlook all of that. You knew I needed oxygen, and after I confided to you that I have PTSD, you brushed it off and tried to physically force it on me. You sent me into a flashback.” He said, his voice strained with emotion. “Do you have any comprehension how mentally taxing and debilitating those can be? I told you I took it off because I have PTSD and I don’t wear masks. I don’t wear masks because I was muzzled as a kid for a quirk I didn’t know how to control or because someone was in a bad mood. But to top it all off, you called for a psych eval after you were taken off my case, because instead of asking questions you assumed my parents were the one hurting me. So no, I don’t believe your rehearsed apology nor do I accept it.” The doctor looked ready to cry hearing that from a teenager.

“Tsukare, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I hope one day you can forgive me.” She said, her head hung in remorse.

“Doctor Endo, you’re free to leave. So, are we all done here?” The chief asked lightly, hoping that was the case.

“No, we’re not.” Aizawa said, turning back to the man in a white coat. “I’d like to request that you have all of your staff go through sensitivity training again, this time more thoroughly. What happened today was unacceptable. As parents, we put our trust in her because she was the main assisting surgeon for our son. Today, she simply traumatized him further. We don’t appreciate what her inability to be professional caused.”

The chief paled and knew this would be a long day.

0 notes

medinademiri · 1 year

Text

August part 2.

I FINALLY got my hair done! My hairdresser, Izzy, was able to pull off exactly what I wanted. She is a hair WIZARD.

I went to the boulder reservoir with my love. It was unfortunately cloudy and started to storm. So we weren’t allowed to swim. We drove back home and took a nap before we went out to get ice cream but that line was PACKED. So we walked a bit a went to a brewery and saw the most beautiful double rainbow. The storm was worth it. We also played bananagrams and are now on the lookout for our own bananagrams.

We had a date night and went to an Asian fusion restaurant. We got crab Rangoon, Lo mein, and chicken dumplings. After that we went to a tiki bar and hung out there. I got a drink called the Transylvania (I wanted free vampire teeth) and Dan got one called the Goldblum.

We saw a couple of movies this month. I’ll show my watch list:

I also headed out to Fresno for work. I had some time Sunday so I drove out to Yosemite and was in awe. I really believe pictures don’t do much justice. It was beautiful and I plan on going back on day.

When I got back from Fresno, we went out to dinner in Golden and got pizza. I’ve given up trying to find pizza west of the east coast. It’s a lost cause.

But Dan really wanted to go because of the salad bar lol.

After that we went to odyssey brewery and got a free beer each! It was nice. We hung out there for a bit before we headed home and watched Megan.

Megan was terrible.

We also went to the Berkeley area in Denver and got breakfast, played tennis for 2 hours, and stopped for a drink. It was SUCH a cute area.

And to wrap it all up we hiked the silver dollar trail head. It was beautiful. We went for the lake so the dogs could swim but Oliver hates swimming. Renly went in for a little bit and then came right out. After that we got back home and met up with one of dans friends in Louisville and had a really fun time there.

1 note · View note

sussex-nature-lover · 2 years

Text

Sunday 6 November 2022

Brightening Some Dark Days

I was going to go out with my camera and find some more diverse content, but it’s done nothing but absolutely throw it down. I can hardly believe that the three reservoirs in our area are only between 39-45% full. We’ve had so much rain that I’d have anticipated around 70% at least. I hope the low figures aren’t down to excessive leaks.

A few days ago our own lane was featured on the BBC news for England

photo credit BBC

It’s only a few minutes away where we go on our walks through the hop field. This isn’t even the part of the lane that has a permanent ‘FLOOD’ sign which is hinged to hide or display as needed.

Some days I’ve sat watching so many leaves fall that it looked like giant snow, but it’s really hard to capture in a photo.

I spotted this poem and it made me feel a bit better towards them

and because I love pretty things and because I can’t resist a collection, I did bring some leaves from our own trees indoors - not quite sure what I’m going to do with them yet, but look at the colours

No need to worry, there are thousands more where those came from. When It’s dry I need to get out and rake them and will make piles to leave undisturbed underneath the tree line

This was earlier in the week, at peak day time - so grey and dark. The big maple has shed all its leaves, but the little one behind the little silver birch, hasn’t even turned as yet. It’s so strange that those four trees were all planted together and yet the developmental difference is massive. The silver birch are much more golden today, kind of glow in the dark!

And at the beginning of the week the pond was almost full, so it’s just as well we didn’t add any more water in the summer. Those dog rose branches I left to help wildlife exit the pond have started to sprout roots and some hips, so I’m glad I left them. I do need to go down there and see how many leaves are in there, but again, am putting it off for now.

I think we have 3/5 in our garden, so that’s not too bad

The deer have been around again, across the lane and in the woods. The photos were from the kitchen through some rather grimy windows, all the way into the wood

Back to the weather. I’ve always been so happy that despite the field across the lane sloping towards our house, the lane is a hill that cuts across and takes the majority of the water away - hence the flood further along - but over the years I can say we get a little more water puddling in our porch than we used to.

yes, the days have been this dark

You can see from the colour of the water that it’s come off the fields and that heavy clay soil. The video below was taken from the house when it had eased off quite a bit, not so the drivers sloshing by, glad I wasn’t walking past. The best bit is around the 15 second mark when we had a fly past...not the Red Arrows this time. See if you spot them (put your speakers on)

vimeo

But like the words of my team’s football anthem, at the end of the storm and all that, well, at least until you catch sight of this week’s weather forecast!

#weather Autumn nature wildlife

1 note · View note

dustedmagazine · 2 years

Text

Listed: Lake Mary

An avid outdoorsperson, Chaz Prymek releases his musical output under the name Lake Mary in honor of the eponymous reservoir in Big Cottonwood Canyon, located in his birth state of Utah. Being somewhat of a nomad, he has called many American states home, and currently resides in Missouri. Over the course of his travels, Prymek has collected friends and collaborators, such that Lake Mary evolved from a solo undertaking into a loose collective of like-minded souls. On Slow Grass, he enlisted a trio of his closest musical companions to honor the life of his recently departed dog, Favorite. In a recent review, Bryon Hayes commented that the record was “[a] graceful and endearing suite, it is a testament to the bond between human and dog, a rumination on the life of a loved one.” For this edition of Listed, Prymek explores the songs and poems that inspire him to reflect on life, love, and loss.

Airport People “From Morning no. 1”

from nine mornings by airport people

There is a quiet revolution happening of more and more people putting sincerity into music again, I know it's always been there, in the way that everything has always been everything, but it seems like either it's becoming easier to find, or maybe I'm softening as I age, or sincerity is in, either way... You can hear the heart of Leon in this album, it feels so sincere to me and found me at the perfect time. I didn't know I needed this album so I could do a lot of healing work, it made space for me to grow into the changes that were happening in my life at the time, it quickly became one of my all time favorite and deeply important records. I got to play with them over this summer and I swear to you the whole room turned shades of violet and yellows and red, like the sun was rising right inside that venue.

Quelle Chris “Ain't Always Living”

DEATHFAME by Quelle Chris

This song stayed on in my car for months this summer. It made its way into my world at just the right time. Learning to love yourself and develop self-worth is an epic journey, especially under capitalism. With what little time we have between work and sleep, we try our best to love and accept love, it doesn't always stick though. We all go through so much in our home lives, we fall in love, we make new friends, we end relationships, we die, our friends die, lose jobs, we protest, we make art we want to share with the world, we plant gardens, we build communities, we cook for our friends and families, we sing songs, we dance, we exhaust ourselves trying to be alive outside work. This song became a constant reminder to look around at what and who is in my life, and to cherish that while it's here.

Ben Seretan “Light Leaks”

Ben Seretan by Ben Seretan

Ben has made so much music since this came out. All of it is mind blowing and life affirming. However, this song has got me through so many big transitions in my life, over and over. I've learned time and time again from Ben's music, that the heart has to break to let the light in. That's what this song can do, break your heart and put it back together again. This track is a part of me now.

I got to sing this song with him at a show in Brooklyn and sobbed the whole time.

Vera Jean “New Sleep”

Door 1995 by Louise DeCramer

Sometimes you meet someone once who sticks with you forever. They make their way into your heart quickly and softly, and they make a home there. Sometimes you don't even notice until it's already happened. It's not anyone's purposeful doing, it's not anyone's fault or intent. It's just one of those things. Vera Jean (Louise) has done just that. These albums have soundtracked many long drives back from the farm or swimming holes, the car is silent and grinning with exhaustion...

There is a different kind of way joy hits when you've lost.

Maya Weeks “Tethers”

Tethers by Maya Weeks

This album took me back to when I lived on the north coast. It feels like the walk to the coast, over shrubs and between conifers and pillows of fog, revealing a cold, wild and welcoming ocean. Exploring tide pools, poking at urchins, skipping rocks and harvesting kelp and mussels for dinner. It floored me when I first heard it, still does.

Ross Gay & Bon Iver “Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude”

Dilate Your Heart by Ross Gay

I haven't listened to this without weeping.

What I Didn’t Know Before by Ada Limón

was how horses simply give birth to other

horses. Not a baby by any means, not

a creature of liminal spaces, but already

a four-legged beast hellbent on walking,

scrambling after the mother. A horse gives way

to another horse and then suddenly there are

two horses, just like that. That’s how I loved you.

You, off the long train from Red Bank carrying

a coffee as big as your arm, a bag with two

computers swinging in it unwieldily at your

side. I remember we broke into laughter

when we saw each other. What was between

us wasn’t a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed

over. It came out fully formed, ready to run.

____________

This poem has been read back and forth between myself and some friends as a way to say I'm thinking of you or taking you with me.

Reconocimiento // Acknowledgement by Alejandra Pizarnik

Tu haces el silencio de las lilas que aletean

en mi tragedia del viento en el corazón.

Tu hiciste de mi vida un cuento para niños

en donde naufragios y muertes

son pretextos de ceremonias adorables

You made the silence of the lilacs fluttering

in the tragedy of wind that is in my heart.

You turned my life into a children's tale

where shipwrecks and death

are an excuse for a beloved ceremonies.

____________

When I read this once, it clicked and this book opened up to me. I read this poem aloud to Emma in the park the other day and it silenced us both. I could write many records about what this paints in my head.

People by Yevgeny Yevtushenko

No people are uninteresting.

Their fate is like the chronicle of planets.

Nothing in them is not particular,

and planet is dissimilar from planet.

And if a man lived in obscurity

making his friends in that obscurity

obscurity is not uninteresting.

To each his world is private,

and in that world one excellent minute.

And in that world one tragic minute.

These are private.

In any man who dies there dies with him

his first snow and kiss and fight.

It goes with him.

There are left books and bridges

and painted canvas and machinery.

Whose fate is to survive.

But what has gone is also not nothing:

by the rule of the game something has gone.

Not people die but worlds die in them.

Whom we knew as faulty, the earth’s creatures

Of whom, essentially, what did we know?

Brother of a brother? Friend of friends?

Lover of lover?

We who knew our fathers

in everything, in nothing.

They perish. They cannot be brought back.

The secret worlds are not regenerated.

And every time again and again

I make my lament against destruction.

____________

I have been thinking about this poem for years. You can think you know most things about somebody, until their funeral. As you watch people you've never met come and say how much this same person meant to them, stories you've never heard, then sharing making friends because you have lived on two sides of the same world. You can start to see one world fade and a new one begin in the light still shining from this person's universe that was and is much bigger than you ever expected.

Mary Oliver— Dog Songs

“You may not agree, you may not care, but

if you are holding this book you should know that of all the sights I love in this world,

and there are plenty,

very near the top of the list is this one:

dogs without leashes.”

_______________

This book is so special to me. I would read this aloud to my pup for years before she passed away.

Thank ya'll for having me.

I hope someone can find something in here to resonate with.

#listed #dusted magazine #lake mary #chaz prymek #slow grass #airport people #quelle chris #ben seretan #vera jean #maya weeks #ross gay #bon iver #ada limon #Alejandra Pizarnik #Yevgeny Yevtushenko

0 notes

crispyfryenperu · 2 years

Text

Working Hard or Hardly Working?

Well well well look’s like I’ve been missing in action for an entire month.. truthfully I have been incredibly busy! Peace Corps is not what I expected it to be. I thought I would have a lot of free time. I was going to do yoga every morning, spend my evenings learning Quechua and water coloring. Maybe start a Youtube channel, or start studying for the Professional Engineering exam. But I’m busy… and I think waking up early is not for me and will never be for me.

The sun sets a little too early for my taste, but it’s always beautiful.

Instead!! Every week I have meetings with professors, the Puesto de Salud, the JASS. Today I woke up at 7 am to present myself to all of the professors at the main school. Usually my host mom Cande leaves me a fried egg or fried cheese and potatoes, oatmeal, or her newest invention, cheese with a bit of ketchup on a tortilla. - great news, I found flour tortillas at the mercado only half an hour away. But today I woke up too early to eat breakfast - back to my American habits. The professors were receptive to my presentation and eager to work together. I’ve already worked with one teacher in this school, and it’s a challenge. The high schoolers are constantly on their cell phones. When they aren’t, they’re throwing paper snowballs or begging to go to the bathroom (and never come back). There’s a smaller elementary school a 10 minute bus ride away, with two classrooms of 10 students. Here I have done hand washing sessions already. Because of the class size and age, it’s much easier to work at this school. The challenge is there’s no internet or cell service in that area.

Handwashing session in the smaller primary school. Saturday is national hand washing day!

UPDATE from my last post, we chlorinated the water, but had some issues. The water source is a manantial (spring) and the water flow and levels vary. So even if you apply a constant stream of chlorine, the concentration in the reservoir will change. In addition, my chlorine system is just a basic tank that you adjust the knob to the amount of chlorine you want. But because the level of the chlorine solution obviously drops as it enters the reservoir, the pressure changes and the chlorine drip slows down over time. In conclusion… it’s DIFFICULT to apply the right chlorine dose to the drinking water. The community hates chlorine because it leaves white stains on their pots (that’s actually calcium and natural minerals not chlorine), and they aren’t used to the taste. So I am trying to put 0.5 mg/L of chlorine in the water, but when it suddenly goes up to 3 mg/L, everyone freaks out. I need to program a day to observe the system the entire day and at least see how much the flow from the spring truly varies. I have been so busy the last week that I haven’t even had time to do this yet.

Relaxing after disinfecting a reservoir. Ignore the time stamp.

So what have I really been doing? Water system inspections, reservoir disinfections, coordinating with the doctors, teaching hand washing, playing games with children, playing soccer, meeting the new German volunteers, preparing for my bosses to come visit, going on walks with my new friends, making salads for my family. And on Friday I had a tomato fight! The municipality has its own vivero (plant nursery). I went to help my socia propagate some plants. We were also picking baby tomatoes and pulling out the plant, and a few misplaced tomatoes resulted in the five of us covered in dirt and tomato seeds. Next up is paint balling.

Ryan’s tomato-stained shirt and hat, Gloria’s puppy that looks just like Elvis, and my friends Luz and Nathaly throwing bursting-red AND hard, green tomatoes at me. The second photo was taken with the app BeReal.

One of my host dogs, Theo has a cold and he coughs all night. Cande gives him pills. I am grateful that Elvis doesn’t get sick, that’s the one good thing about his antisocial behavior. Imagine the reverse, never talking to another human and therefore never being exposed to viruses. Since all the dogs hang out in the streets, the municipality dog, Lazzy, also has a cold. Her family has tied a lemon and a piece of onion around her neck so that she gets better.

La Lazzy con limón y cebolla

0 notes

offender42085 · 2 years

Photo

Post 0384

Adam Fulford, Colorado inmate 178473, born 1984, incarceration intake at age 33, scheduled for parole December 2037, with full release October 2049

Kidnapping, Assault, Attempted Murder, Fleeing

Nearly eight months after Fulford led law enforcement officers on a massive manhunt across Fort Collins, around Horsetooth Reservoir and into Loveland, a Judge sentenced the 34-year-old man to 35 years in prison and 24 years of mandatory parole.

During one evening, police say Fulford fled from a central Fort Collins apartment complex when they tried to serve an arrest warrant related to missed court appearance in a felony drug case. He fled on foot before hailing a taxi and directing the taxi driver to evade police, they said. During that time, the taxi driver was shot in the leg — though Fulford's defense said both the driver and Fulford said the gun discharged accidentally.

Police say Fulford hid overnight near Horsetooth Reservoir. The next morning, he stole a car at gunpoint and led law enforcement officers on a chase topping speeds of 100mph. It ended when he smashed into a car driven by Tara Hildebrand, who was taking her two young children to school in Loveland.

Fulford's sister read letters from both herself and Fulford's brother, in which they described him as a caring and giving man with a wonderful sense of humor. They said the father of two was temporarily waylaid by depression and addiction amidst the trauma of losing his father, his job and his dog in a short amount of time. He also endured a breakup, they said.

They did not excuse his "egregious mistakes," they said, but they knew him to be much more than his crimes.

"Adam is not a saint, but he is a loving, compassionate, artistic father," his sister said. As she spoke, Fulford bowed his head and wiped his eyes.

The prosecution and defense offered their own contrasting narratives as to how the crime unfolded.

The Prosecutor described Fulford as a "maniac with a gun" who was not taking responsibility for his actions and distorting the events in a light favorable to himself. He said Fulford was solely responsible for the manhunt and the subsequent, high-speed chase.

He initially faced 29 allegations, and the list eventually exceeded 50, including 48 felonies.

"Let's be clear: The police don't set the speed in a chase," he said. "... The speed was entirely controlled by Mr. Fulford."

Fulford's public defender countered that Fulford never intentionally caused any injuries and that he should not be defined by his worst mistakes.

"His actions were entirely out of character," she said, going on to describe him as a talented artist and a devoted father. "This is the man that I have gotten to know."

Finally, Fulford took the stand and read from a letter he'd written on a stack of paper. During his lengthy and tearful statement, he apologized to his victims for the emotional and physical pain he caused them.

"My heart broke into 1,000 pieces when I found out that I injured a family and shot a man," he said.

He later added, "I do understand what I've done and what could have happened."

He said that, after what he described as targeting by police, he adopted an "outlaw mentality" and his mind became his own worst enemy. During the night he fled from police, he said he continued to hide and to run because he feared he'd be fatally shot.

"My fear of being killed was not paranoia," he said. "It was a certainty."

He concluded by again apologizing to his victims, thanking his family for their ongoing support and asking for forgiveness in the community.

Ultimately, the Judge accepted the sentence previously stipulated in a plea deal. Fulford was convicted of seven felonies: aggravated robbery, two counts of first-degree assault, motor vehicle theft, second-degree burglary, vehicular eluding and possession of a dangerous weapon. The Larimer County district attorney dismissed dozens of other felony and misdemeanor charges.

The Judge also sentenced Fulford in an unrelated case for which he pleaded guilty to possession of a controlled substance. He received 18 years in prison and three years of mandatory parole, to be served concurrently with his other sentence.

24 notes · View notes

killingitreservoirdogsstyle · 2 years

Note

Hey! You don’t have to respond to this, just wanted to quickly say sorry for spam liking your stuff, it’s all super amazing and I’ve been finding it as I scroll through the reservoir dogs x reader tags!! Thank you for your work in keeping us fed, I’m super happy to see that you’re active too! Looking forwards to sending a request or two when/if you’re open. Thank you again!!!

Hello anon! Firstly, please do NOT apologize! I should be the one who is so sorry for not being active as of late, I know I've been so extremely rude and brusque by not getting stuff out lately. Thank YOU so much for all your support and for liking my humble little blog, it is people like you who light up my world! I have so much gratitude for you taking time to read my posts, and I appreciate it more than I could say💖

Thank you so much, and do feel free to request things, I promise to try and get them done as soon as I can if schooling and the busy lead up to the Holidays doesn't block the way!

I hope you have a very happy holidays if you celebrate it, and I thank you so much again for your praise and support!

#killingitreservoirdogsstyle #thanks anon #thanks so much #anon submission #blog update

2 notes · View notes

agent-cupcake · 4 years

Text

Garreg Mach Café Episode Two: Lucky Seven (Yuri x Reader)

The first thing you learned about him —one of the very few things you knew about him— was that he liked sugar. A lot. You didn’t work the counter most of the time, you just made the drinks. So, you didn’t know who had ordered the heart attack inducing Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe, only that someone was looking for a cavity. Vanilla bean coffee, three pumps of vanilla syrup, and strawberry puree with ice blended and topped with whipped cream, hazelnut drizzle, strawberry drizzle, and red sprinkles.

The second thing you learned about him was his name. Or, more accurately, his lack thereof. People regularly used dumb names. It didn’t really bug you, there was no shame in entertaining someone who thought making a barista call out a drink for Phun E. Monki was the peak of modern entertainment. Not so surprisingly, you saw a lot of hipster and nerd traffic through the café so references and jokes weren’t at all unheard of. Really, this one wasn’t even that bad. Comparatively.

“Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe for Arsène Lupin,” you called, turning around.

“That’s mine,” the waiting customer responded. Shockingly, it was not the top-hat wearing gentleman thief who stood at the counter waiting for his drink. Neither was it the dweeb you expected. Your Arsène Lupin —that is, the man standing on the other side of the glistening lacquered wood countertop— certainly wasn’t normal, but not in the way you had initially assumed.

The third thing you learned about him was that he was disarmingly beautiful. He stood casually; his arms crossed with one of his hands resting lightly on his chin as he watched with a half-smile that you would have sworn had a mischievous glint. Waiting to see if the little joke got a reaction, you figured.

Well, who were you to deny him that? Pushing down the instinctual nerves of talking to someone who belonged more in the technicolor light of your two-past-midnight Instagram escapades rather than the academia chic café, you smiled back. “Here you go, Monsieur Lupin.”

That made his lips twitch in amusement, which shouldn’t have been as gratifying as it was. “Thanks,” Arsène said warmly, wrapping his fingers around the cup. It wasn’t like you were intentionally trying to notice, but his fingers were long and thin, the nails neat and manicured. Pretty hands. Attractive hands. You wondered if they were soft, or as strong as they looked, or what they might feel like-

Nope. No. You needed God.

Or Tinder

“I hope you enjoy,” you said, trying to act like you hadn’t just committed some obscene thought crime. He was supposed to leave after that. People got their drinks and either sat down or left. But he didn’t, meeting your eyes with an even gaze. Their violet coloring was striking, drawn out by the purple eyeshadow smoked out over his pale eyelids. The makeup should have been off-putting, you were less than uninterested in the pierced hoard of e-boys that had saturated the modern alternative dating market, but it wasn’t. Not on him, at least.

“This is a cute place,” Arsène said. But he wasn’t looking around the cafe, he was staring directly at you. Which… you weren’t sure if you were to buy into your ego telling you he was flirting or your paranoia that he was laughing at you. “Is it usually this busy?”

Flirting was better, for your sanity’s sake if nothing else, so you smiled, doing a quick check to make sure you weren’t missing any customers. The guy working the register was looking at his phone under the counter.

“You know, you shouldn’t pick such an obvious pseudonym when you’re canvassing a business,” you said playfully. “Charm will only get you so far.”

That made him laugh, his appraising eyes sparkling with amusement as he stabbed a straw past the whipped cream of his drink. “In my experience, charm will get you anywhere.”

“For you, maybe,” you allowed, feeling a little more emboldened by that response. Lowering your voice slightly, you leaned in as if to conspire. “I guess the real question is what you’re stealing, Monsieur Lupin, hearts or jewels?”

“Jewels, usually,” Arsène told you without missing a beat. “I have no need to steal the hearts.” He shrugged one shoulder carelessly, casually. “I collect enough of them as it is.”

A corny, over-confident line like that should have made you laugh. Unfortunately, you kind of believed it. So you raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That goes against the spirit of being a Phantom Thief, doesn’t it?”

“Why, do you want me to steal your heart?” Arsène asked. He didn’t sound serious, exactly, but neither was the question joking enough to keep a flush from crawling up your cheeks.

“Baristas don’t have hearts,” you told him theatrically, rejecting your silly reaction. “It’s a void of caffeine, student debt, and the disappointment of our parents.”

Arsène was about to respond when you heard the door jingle open. You turned, looking over your shoulder at the customers who had stepped up to the register. “It looks like you’re needed,” he said, following your eye line.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a strange stab of disappointment. Which was dumb. A little bit of banter with a handsome stranger was nice, but it shouldn’t have been anything else.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” Arsène said, smirking in a way that made you think he’d seen your dismayed reaction. “Thanks for the drink.”

He raised the cup like a toast goodbye, and you wished him a good day. It was completely ridiculous, but that quick and strange interaction played on loop in your head for the rest of the day. You went from embarrassed, to amused, to insecure, and back again dozens of times. By the next day, you weren’t sure what to think about it and you hated to think that you were watching for him, but-

Well, you were.

The fourth thing you learned about him was that he had a schedule, a specific time slot that seemed to be allocated to getting an overly sugary drink at your little cafe.

“Noa Fruit and Caramel Macchiato for Mr Pink,” you called, already expecting to see his smile based on the name alone. Not that the preparation did a whole lot in lessening the effects. Today Arsène, or Mr Pink, wore a dark striped button up tucked into black pants. The top buttons were undone, showing off the elegant column of his neck and the framing lines of his collarbones. His skin was so pale, like it had never seen the sun, the color perfectly even and milky.

“That’s mine,” he said. Redundantly. Of course it was his.

To think that you’d done your makeup with more care than usual today was embarrassing, but you were glad for it as you passed the drink to him. “Reservoir Dogs, right?” you asked, forcing yourself to not be flustered.

“Very good,” he said in a voice that was borderline condescending.

“You thought I wouldn’t know? I serve coffee in downtown, knowing Tarantino is practically a job requirement,” you said. Arsène laughed warmly, a sound that was somewhere between amusement and mocking, a sound that invited a mess of fluttery nerves to dance around in your stomach which you covered with a smile. “Mr Pink, though… he’s a long way off from being a gentleman thief.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve fallen from grace,” Arsène said, his smile an odd combination of mirth and mystery. “Lupin is... more of an ideal. Reality is hardly ever so romantic.”

“Cheers to that,” you said wryly.

“Although if I had to emulate one of them, I’d far prefer it to be the gentleman,” he said, dropping a few dollars in your tip jar. Cheeky. “Thanks for the treat.”

“Oh… Yeah,” you said, not even thinking to point out that it was your job. Unless he wasn’t talking about the coffee, which was even more baffling. “Have a nice day.”

After that came a lineup of sugary drink orders under the names of famous thieves. Some references you knew immediately, others you had to google later. And always, always, he just about made your heart stop with that smile.

It was… Maybe a week later? Your Arsène had become something like an expectation. Which was ridiculous. And stupid. But it was true, and he hadn’t been in the day before which affected you far more than you dared admit. Seeing the familiar purple head in the lineup of waiting customers was more relieving than it should have been.

A Vanilla Wyvern Wing Latte for Danny Ocean, this time. Unfortunately, there was a swath of customer’s orders that needed filling so you couldn’t give it to him personally, sliding it across the counter before rushing back to the blender. That kind of disappointed you, especially since you hadn’t seen him the day before, until you realized that he had taken a seat along the bar, writing something in a notebook and sipping on the creamy white latte.

Waiting for you? Pushing down the spark of excitement you felt about that, you finished up the orders. After that, you took a breath, grabbing a rag to at least seem productive as you inched towards him.

“You’re awfully far from Vegas, Mr Ocean,” you said. Although you called him that, you still thought of him as Arsène Lupin. Your Arsène.

He looked up from his notebook, the end of his pen pushed against his lip in a distracting way. They were so pink. And shapely, his top lip curved by a perfectly symmetrical cupids bow that no amount of lip kits could falsify. And… And you were staring. Again. He obviously noticed, what with the way he grinned when you forced your eyes up to his, but he gracefully didn’t point it out.

“Casinos are nothing more than a party trick,” he told you lightly, flipping his pen through his fingers before letting it drop to the paper. “I’ve got my eye on something far more valuable.” His eyes were burning into yours as he spoke.

That was the fifth thing you learned about him. Arsène could make anything sound like a double entendre. You thought of yourself as being somewhat difficult to ruffle, but even the most innocuous of comments from him could make your cheeks warm. It was the tone of his smooth, lovely voice. Always speaking under his breath, or low enough that you found yourself leaning in.

“Jewels, right?” you asked, playing it cool because you refused to fall prey to what you knew was a purposeful attempt to throw you off balance. “I heard there was an exhibit coming to town.”

“I’m not really interested in that sort of thing,” Arsène said with a little wave of his elegant hand. “You know the reprehensible means they use to get them, don’t you? So beautiful... but stained with blood. Not too dissimilar from myself, I suppose.”

That momentarily tripped you up. He sounded so genuine, even with the little quip of a joke. Most people couldn’t pull off saying something so nakedly edgy. Maybe it only worked because he was pretty, and you were a fool. So you just smiled. “You really ought to work on this whole subterfuge thing.”

Arsène’s eyes met yours. So intense. “And how would you recommend I do that?”

“Misdirection,” you told him, refocusing on wiping up the counter to avoid his gaze. “The names are bad enough. You’ve gotta at least pretend to be an upstanding member of society, right?”

“Do you think I’m not?” he asked lightly, his head falling to the side, hand braced against his cheek casually. “And here I thought I was perfectly amicable.”

“Oh,” you said. Did he sound offended? You quickly backtracked. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t think you are, it’s just that what you said-”

“I’m kidding,” Arsène said, the slightly concerned expression slipping from his face like an easily discarded mask.

You winced, internally kicking yourself. “Ah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry. That was cute,” Arsène said with that oddly infuriating unreadable grin and shutting his notebook to stand up.

“You’re leaving?” you asked, almost confused that he’d wait only to cut the conversation short.

“Haven’t you realized? I’m a wanted man. As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got things to do,” he said. “Speaking of that, I hope you didn’t miss me too much yesterday. This project is more difficult than I anticipated.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like I expect you to come by,” you said. You lied.

“No?” Arsène asked. He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious. “Fine, then. I’m not afraid to admit that I missed you. I’ll definitely see you tomorrow, though.”

“Can’t wait,” you said. And, despite the half-sarcastic affect you tried to put on, you meant it.

It only settled after he’d already left what he really had said. Missed you. Not for the first time, you toyed with the idea of giving him your number. Then again, maybe you were misreading the situation. After all, you didn’t even know his name.

Still, true to his word, he came around the same time the next day.

This time, it was a Cinnamon Dust Frappe for Garrett. Arsène, or Garrett, was wearing a sweater today in a nod to the rainy weather. Just like everything else he wore, it was entirely in service of his allure, a dark knit with leather elbow patches. White clips kept a section of his hair out of his face, which was curling at the ends. From the humidity? Or perhaps he usually straightened it?

“It took me a minute,” you admitted as you handed him his drink, “Garrett. That’s Thief, right? I have to be honest; you don’t really strike me as the gamer type.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he responded. After a moment, he added, “I haven’t got much time for games these days, but I have some fond memories from when I was a kid.”

“Probably why you’re a criminal,” you said.

If you weren’t mistaken, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second in something like surprise before that was composed into something else, his laughter driving it away. “You might be on to something with that. Video games do make kids violent, after all.”

“So, tomorrow, will it be Ezio? Or Corvo… He’s got a bit of thievery under his belt.”

Arsène scoffed. “I’d never do the same trick twice.”

That made you smile. “I look forward to it.”

After he left, you realized that you’d learned the sixth thing about him. It was such a small and mundane detail, but there was something charming and oddly intimate to imagine Arsène as a kid playing video games.

The next day, you were working register while helping to train the newbie in making drinks. It was cold. Slushy snow half-heartedly sprinkled down outside, and the heater was desperately trying, and failing, to keep the cafe warm. The repairman wouldn’t come until the following morning. All in all, your mood was rather poor.

Until the door opened and a familiar face stepped up to the counter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up here,” Arsène said.

“Desperate times,” you said with a shrug. He smiled at that, looking up at the menu contemplatively.

“I’ll have…” he said, “a Mockingbird Mocha Hot Chocolate. Medium.”

“And who might you be today?” you asked professionally, the Sharpie point poised over the side of the cardboard hot drinks cup.

“Prometheus,” he said without hesitation.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second as you tried to figure out the reference. That was… clever. The original thief. You couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement as you scribbled that on the side of the cup. The newbie already knew how to make the drink, leaving you with nothing to do. The cafe was quiet today, a rarity. It was the poor weather. People dropped in to get hot drinks, but you didn’t blame them for not sticking around. Arsène was dressed for the cold, wearing a white cape coat that was either incredibly trendy or strangely fringe. Of course, it worked perfectly on him. He looked ready to hop into a new age fashion catalog for outerwear.

“From gentleman thief to a gangster to god… Moving up in the world, are we?” you asked to fill the silence.

“On the contrary,” Arsène told you “There’s no power in being a god nobody believes in.”

“I’d definitely believe in you if you could warm it up in here,” you told him. “I’ve been freezing all day.”

“I’m sure I could think of a few ways to warm you up,” Arsène said, smirking, his eyes dancing with mischievous amusement. “After all, I’m the one who stole the first flame.”

A shaky exhale left your mouth, becoming something like an awkward laugh because he definitely had you going for a second and you knew it was on purpose but still. “That’s what you meant. Right.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Here you go,” the newbie said with absolutely perfect timing, handing Arsène his drink. At least your blush was keeping you warm.

“Thank you,” Arsène said, meeting her eyes. You were pretty sure you saw her swoon, which made sense. That was the most practical response to him, after all. He looked back to you. “Try to keep warm, I’d hate for you to be calling in sick.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said. He grinned, wishing the both of you a good day. And you did warm up. By thinking of all the ways he could keep you warm. At this point, even God Himself probably couldn’t do much about your sinful thoughts.

The next day was another cold one, meaning that it was slow. Because of that, your boss had decided that only one person was needed, and you didn’t mind if that was you. Paid hours were always welcome. More than that, and you hated yourself for it, you hoped to see your Arsène. You’d been scrolling on your phone under the register when the door opened. Winter rushed in like it had been chomping at the bit for the chance, called forth with the jingling of bells. Arsène had arrived right on time, wearing that white cloak coat and tall white heeled boots. Snowflakes shined in his hair, quick to melt in the warmth of the repaired heater. By now, you should have been immune. But you weren’t.

“Alone today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Eerie, isn’t it?” you replied, gesturing to the empty cafe. “Not that I mind, now that the heater is fixed… What will you be having today?”

“A medium Caramel Leclair Latte,” he said.

“And your name…?”

“Yuri,” he said, which you scribbled onto the cardboard.

“All right… Just gimme a second,” you said. The drink was oddly tame for him, and a lot easier to make. You were pretty sure you could whip up a latte in your sleep. He waited without saying anything, but you could feel him watching. The music was too quiet to be a distraction and you were incredibly aware that it was just the two of you which was stupid because the counter practically put you in a different realm of reality, but-

You forced your thoughts to focus on something else, considering the name he’d given you. It was oddly unassuming, at least by the standards of other names he’d given you. You couldn’t recognize it as anything in particular, either. It was Russian. Or Japanese. It being the name of a Russian thief probably made the most sense contextually, but you were drawing a blank as to the specific reference.

“I can’t figure it out,” you admitted when you finished the drink and set it on the counter between you, “who are you impersonating today?”

Arsène blinked, a second of confusion passing before his lips quirked up just a bit. “Myself, actually. I figured it was time to give you my name. You can call me Yuri. Yuri Leclerc, to be precise.”

That was the seventh thing you learned about him. Your stomach clenched. Out of nerves or excitement or happiness, you couldn’t tell. You smiled, feeling something giddy fuzz in your head. “Well... It... It’s good to meet you, Yuri Leclerc.” Yes, you liked that name. It was better than all the others, even better than Arsène.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Yuri replied smoothly.

“So… Is there a reason for this momentous revelation?” you asked.

Some of the mirth drained from his eyes as he slid two of the little coffee straws into the lid. “I’m leaving town.”

The disappointment that struck you was beyond silly, it wasn’t like you had any claim to him. You’d only just learned his name for God’s sake. “Did the police finally catch up with you?” you asked with a smile, trying to be playful.

“Not yet,” Yuri said. “I prefer to leave before they catch wise.”

“I can never tell if you’re joking or not,” you told him, shaking your head. Sure, he was smiling, but, well, he smiled a lot. It was always unreadable. Amusement at something. Life itself, maybe.

“For your own sake,” Yuri said, his eyes fixing on yours, “you should always assume I am.”

Because that really cleared it up. You decided not to worry about it too much. “But you are leaving, that’s not pretend?”

“Yeah.”

Your heart sank all over again. Stupid, stupid. At least you finally knew his name.

That made for seven things you knew about him. That was enough, wasn’t it? Lucky sevens and all that? Without thinking too hard about it, you grabbed one of the embossed café cards and a pen, scribbling your name and phone number on the back. “If you’re ever back in town or whatever, this is me,” you told him, handing it over. “Or I dunno, I get vacation time. Maybe it’d be fun to take a trip to Almyra or Albinea or wherever gentleman thieves go until the heat dies down.”

Yuri looked at the card for a long moment before tucking it into his wallet, smiling. You felt like you could read this smile, it was warm and friendly. More real than his others, the emotion catching in his eyes, too. “I wonder, do you mean that?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I might.”

“Then I do,” you said with a shrug, like it was easy as that and unsure exactly how much of what you said was strictly playful. It didn’t really matter because it made Yuri smile all over again and the look was fond enough to make your heart seize.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Until then, do you by any chance watch the news?”

“The news?” you asked, confused by the shift in topic. “Not if I can help it.”

“Well, you should, at least for a few days.”

“Am I gonna turn it on and see your mugshot slapped all over some headline about a bank robbery or something?” you asked, mostly joking. Mostly.

“What would have ever given you the impression that I’d do something like that?” he asked, feigning a tone of offense.

“Steal something?” you asked.

“Get caught,” he corrected.

You laughed, thinking of something clever to respond with. Unfortunately, the door opened to admit a trio of bundled up students, killing the moment before you spoke.

“That’s my cue,” Yuri said, picking up his coffee. “Don’t miss me too much until we meet again, yeah?”

“Only as long as you promise not to forget me,” you told him.

“It’s a deal, then.”

“Goodbye, Yuri.”

“Goodbye,” he echoed, his eyes meeting yours and voice gentle. Intimate, almost. Then he was gone, a flash of violet and white disappearing into the winter cold.

It was silly, but you kept an eye on the news like he told you, curious to know if anything would come of it or if you’d just fallen for a cute guy’s ruse. But, no, something did happen. A huge theft. The jewel exhibit that had been about to roll out downtown had been robbed. Such a feat was meant to be impossible, there was seemingly no way it could have been done. But it had and there were no suspects, no public leads. And, not surprisingly, no mugshots.

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #yuri leclerc #yuris leclair #fe yuri #yuri leclerc x reader #yuris leclair x reader #fe yuri x reader #YOU'VE BEEN HIT BY #YOU'VE BEEN STRUCK BY #ive had this idea in my head for so long #admittedly i'm not sure it turned out the way i wanted but i can't tell why #iS thIs a pERsoNa rEFeRenCe? yes

101 notes · View notes

imaginesbymk · 4 years

Text

“Find Me Under The Giant Rabbit.”

Reservoir Dogs/Pulp Fiction One Shot

SUMMARY: I read a Reddit fan theory that Mr. Pink survived, escaped the cops, got arrested and was then put on parole - leaving behind his old life and lying low as a waiter at Jack Rabbit Slims. What happens when you show up to the restaurant one night?

PAIRING: Mr. Pink/Buddy Holly waiter x Reader

TAGS: swearing, smoking + mentions of basically everything that happened in reservoir dogs which is the heist, violence, etc

NON REQUESTED

WORD COUNT: 2,870 (it’s long i’m sorry)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is probably the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, and it’s nothing tarantino would ever put in his films, also there’s no way PF and RS can legitimately tie in together 100% even though there are some factors to support otherwise, but i wanted to write this and see something lol :( leave a like/reblog + feedback!!!

[gif credit]

YOU put your car in park, shutting off the engine, and observed it from afar. It was one hell of a big restaurant, almost a bit too cartoon-like. There was a giant anthropomorphic rabbit on top, and the lights claiming the name were glowing a bright red and yellow. Mind you, this was in Los Angeles, so who wouldn’t blame you if you took one look at Jack Rabbit Slim’s, and mistake it for a restaurant at Six Flags?

Dozens of bikers came in with their motorcycles, yet their engines couldn’t even overpower the chatter coming from newcomers left and right. You ignored a heavy tattooed biker dressed in all leather and denim catcalling you from afar, and you reached the front desk.

A man dressed in uniform, most definitely in character, tipped his hat at you and led you to a table with only two chairs. You weren’t expecting anyone to join you in the other seat across. So what if you went for dinner by yourself? You didn’t bother asking anyone to join you for that matter. Not anyone you could think of at the top of your head would be any less boring.

You began tracing your fingers around the rim of the ketchup bottle when not even five seconds after sitting down, a lady approached your table with ruby red lips.

Of course, you thought. Servers were dressed up as icons from the 50s era.

“Marilyn,” you say in awe.

“Close enough,” Instead of being seated in the Marilyn Monroe section being served by a Marilyn Monroe-looking Marilyn Monroe, you were greeted with a tall Mamie Van Doren, who is just as breathtaking as Marilyn refilling everyone’s coffee mugs from the other side of the restaurant. “How about I get you started with drinks?”

Ricky Nelson’s performance on stage came to an end when Mamie arrived with your food. You looked around the place while eating. People weren’t eating by themselves. Families, friends, dates, all of them occupied their seats. Now that you’ve noticed, you sort of wished you brought someone with you, otherwise the seat across from you is used as a footrest.

So there, you propped your feet on top, and relaxed… then you sat upright. Your eyes fixated on the waiter in his section, which were the cars back in the 50s used as booths. You watch him walk towards one of them. The couple was a young woman in a blunt bob cut with bangs, and a man wearing a black suit with long black hair tied back.

You squint your eyes. It couldn’t be...

“Hi, I’m Buddy. What can I get ya?”

You blinked, dropping the half bitten French fry from your mouth. Holy fucking shit.

It was all coming back to you. The news broke out about the heist going wrong at the wholesale, all dead except for one, a cop who laid dead on the ramp inside the rendezvous was identified as Mr. Orange. Since he wasn’t supposed to know where you were from, Mr. Pink never turned up to your door as an emergency hideout, or to drag you with him on his getaway because he never had one. You never heard of him ever since.

Here he was, Mr. Pink, alive and well, wearing glasses. What the hell happened? How long has he been working here? Is he supposed to be Buddy Holly?

“How do you want that cooked? Burnt to a crisp or bloody as hell?” you hear him ask the man in the suit who ordered a steak.

“Bloody as hell, and oh, yeah, look at this- vanilla coke.”

You noticed the irony. He left you in a black suit - and he comes back in white. Like he’d ever want to be caught dead in white, or pink.

“What about you, Peggy Sue?” he asks the woman, jotting in his notepad. You recognized the pun.

“I’ll have the Durwood Kirby burger, bloody. And… the five dollar shake.”

Were you about to laugh? Call out his name? That was enough for you to get antsy in your seat, but you didn’t want to draw attention. You saw him again while finishing up half of your meal, giving the couple their drinks and disappearing back into the kitchen. He was doing his job, but it wasn’t like he was giving his one hundred percent. For someone who preached to the Gods about professionalism, Mr. Pink sure lacked work ethic. Every employee was on point with their character impersonations as if you had travelled back in time. Meanwhile, he acted like himself and seemed bored while wearing an emotionless face, as if he hated his job and epitome of his existence. It was never a dull moment for him whenever he was with you, though.

You got up to use the restroom.

“We’re lucky we got anything at all. I don’t think Buddy Holly’s much of a waiter,” you heard the man at the booth tell the woman as you walk past them, spotting their food from the corner of your eye. It’s no surprise hearing that. Mr. Pink never looked like the type to work at a job like this.

You sat back down and soon, Mr. Pink reappeared, standing over to the side and watched the announcement of the twisting contest, smoking a cigarette. You see him eyeing two pretty blonde women walking past him, and he looked back his way, now in your direction.

He finally did what you wanted him to do, and he stares at you for nearly a solid minute.

You waved awkwardly.

Mr. Pink tosses the cigarette in a random person’s ashtray and disappears behind the door once again. You darted out of your chair, and marched your way to where he headed, just as the couple he served got up on stage to participate in the twisting contest.

A Zorro waiter jumps in front of you. “Stop right there, mi amor!” his eyes darted at you through the cheap black mask he was wearing. “I believe the bathroom’s on the other side of the bar.”

“Where’s Buddy?” you ask Zorro.

“I’m afraid Mr. Holly is taking a quick break from unenthusiastically serving love birds in their cars.”

“Can you tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Once I see him.” Zorro then took out his sword and pointed it at you, a grin plastered on his face. “Now, shall I escort you back to your dining spot?”

Although you were aware this guy was only in character, you didn’t wanna risk getting kicked out, or having a realistic looking sword ripped through your body. You sighed and turned around, heading back. You noticed at your table a folded napkin beside your empty plate. Mamie Van Doren was last seen there, her back facing you with her heels clicking away on the tiles.

“Excuse me!” you called after the waitress. She ignores you, smiling down at new customers at an umbrella table.

Cocking an eyebrow, you used your finger to flatten the crease and read the note in bold handwriting.

FIND ME UNDER THE GIANT RABBIT. - BUDDY

You threw the door open and ran outside, precisely under the giant rabbit of the Jack Rabbit Slim’s sign, just like he said on the napkin. You felt like an idiot checking every direction to find no one. Not a lot of the bikers were seen riding or hanging out around the parking lot, some people were coming and going, but you couldn’t find Buddy Holly.

Defeated, you turn to walk back inside.

Mr. Pink rushed out the door and caught his breath. It looked like he was chasing you down before you could take off. A song used for the twisting contest kept playing from inside.

You didn’t run up to him and jumped in his arms or anything dramatic in that matter. You both stared at each other.

A few days before the heist you two stood across each other waiting for Mr. Brown and Mr. White inside the hideout. It was a quiet moment, not an awkward one. He just took that opportunity to study you, as you did him. It took him that moment to realize he was warming up to you.

“Well hello there, Buddy,” you smile smugly.

YOU and Pink loitered at the side of the eatery, where the back door to the kitchen was located. He had taken off his fake glasses, showing his full frame.

“Okay,” you watch him lean against the wall, lighting his cigarette. “Talk to me. What happened to you?”

“What the hell do you think? Cops tagged me when I tried driving away. I was put behind bars, and by some fucking miracle this place took me in when I needed money.”

“You didn’t know any other crime bosses looking for a lanky dude?” Pink rolls his eyes at your joke. “I know the heist went terribly wrong, I saw the news. Everyone’s dead as Dillinger.”

“That briefcase had a shit load of two million dollars worth of stones,” Pink blew smoke out. “I swear, if that asshole undercover cop was never sent to set us up, I could have been enjoying a cocktail in Santorini. You’re lucky you called in sick that day.”

You shuddered, remembering how god-awful the illness was. “Never again. I felt like I was being hot glued to a sauna.”

You remembered the day of the heist. In fact, you mentally prepared yourself for something that you’ve never done before. You braced for what was supposed to go smoothly as Joe promised. Instead, you were woken up by the worst case scenario above 38 degrees. You were thankful Joe took it easy on you and promised another job next time.

“All right, your turn. What did you do after that shit show went down?” Pink asks you.

“Just did my own thing. I wasn’t there so the cops never searched for me.” Pink took a slow drag, staring at nothing. He didn’t really look the same as before. Still lanky, except his hair was a bit more darkened and styled in curls, possibly because Buddy Holly had it permed that way. But his face read that he had been through a lot. Normally you felt zero pity for assholes like him, but you managed to blurt out, “I missed you.”

Pink, blowing out smoke in the air, eyed you up and down and furrowed his brows. “Likewise.”

Not only did it suck not being able to make money, you also couldn’t do it with Mr. Pink. As much as he kept his professionalism to a T, he squeezed in time to get along with you. It was no wonder Joe hired you - you were different than the guys, you moved differently and never felt small. Mr. Pink was drawn to that.

Maybe that was just an understatement. He grew intimidated by something he expected to experience the least from in the job, and of course, straight out of a fairytale, you had to stop and ask yourself if you felt the same way, and if what you felt was right. Neither of you had any idea. It was against the rules to give out personal information to each other, and Mr. Pink took those rules very seriously, even if it was just one job that he most likely wouldn’t come back to unless a higher pay was involved and Joe Cabot liked him enough to recruit him again.

If Mr. Pink grew too attached, if he let his guard down for one second, God forbid something would have happened to you. Without a doubt, he would have heavily blamed himself and walked away from the job without saying another word.

His options were to wait until after the robbery to make a move, or do his job, get paid and leave. Whether or not it was out of selfishness was out of the question. Mr. Pink is already selfish in an intuitive kind of way, he’d rather avoid spiraling into a wave of emotions for one person - so he chose the latter.

“What?” Pink looked at you, feeling a bit tense. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Huh? No. It’s nothing,” you blinked, realizing you were staring at him longer than you should have. You shook your head, most likely shaking off the intrusive thoughts. Maybe this wasn’t a good time to tell him what’s on your mind.

If anything, he’s most likely sleeping with the Marilyn Monroe waitress. “It’s just… you shaved the goatee.”

Pink nodded, looking a bit annoyed that there was no facial hair left on his chin to rub. “Buddy Holly had a clean face. For the record, the only advantage of this job is that I’m under disguise. Other than that, this place is a circus. I’m zooming back in time whenever I clock in.”

“It’s a 50s themed restaurant,” you state. “Working here sounds like fun. At least you get to dress up and experience pop culture.”

He scoffs. “No, fuck the 50s. Shit was all I Love Lucy and those puffy ass dresses.”

“They’re called poodle skirts, Pink.”

“Like I give a fuck what they’re called.”

“You know Buddy Holly smiled. He was a singer and a guitarist. If you keep up the attitude, no one’s gonna tip you. Nice Guy Eddie told me about your rant on tipping.”

“Ha! And? You will never find me up on that stage performing That’ll Be The Day, moving like a fucking animatronic.” Halfway finished, Pink tossed his cigarette aside and looked at you. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt your cheeks flushing. Fuck. “I am?”

He nodded, putting his Buddy Holly glasses back on his face. “Yeah. It’s a breath of fresh air seeing you here.” He stares down at his wristwatch for a moment.

“Your break’s done?”

“It’s been done,” he says. “Fifteen minutes ago.”

You shook your head, chuckling. “You’re so fired.”

“This isn’t the first time I stopped caring, so my boss isn’t gonna bat an eye.” He had his hand wrapped around the back door which was supported by a wooden block to keep it open. “Look, I’ll see ya arou-”

“Pink?” Your heart rose up to your throat.

He turned back to you. “Hm?”

You just had to do it. You reached up and kissed him softly. Pink didn’t shove or curse at you. His features softened, pulling you close to him and kissed you deeply. Even when you two pulled away, his arms didn’t unwrap from your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours now.

“My name’s Y/N,” you tell him.

He stares at you, no snarky, sarcastic comment left for him to give.

“I know you’re not willing to give your name up just yet, you can’t fully trust me, and I get that, but I won’t tell anyone what happened. You got lucky, I think… but I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m serious.”

“Y/N,” he says your name for the first time. “You don’t have to go all sappy for me. Karma came in hot. Jesus Christ, I mean, I left you.”

“Not really. You didn’t know me. The cops had the place staked out the entire day, there was nothing you could do.”

He looked down at his shoes. “All right. But still, I feel shitty. Can I at least make it up to you?”

“How?”

Pink shrugs. “I get paid tomorrow.”

“Good for you,” you reply. “Save it like you’re gonna lose it.”

“I’ve had this job for a while now, I got enough to last. But once I win the lottery, I’m gone.”

“To Santorini?”

“With a cocktail in my hand. But that’s besides the point, right now I got enough to take you out on a date… if you’re down.”

“Where would you plan on taking me? Here?” you laugh.

“You’re funny. How about the movies? Overruled, I’m taking you to see a movie. I gotta know where you live first. It’s okay to know now.”

You nodded, you couldn't argue with that. Besides, you two would just be making out in the dark the entire time.

His hand was back on the handle of the back door. Pink pulled it open, looked back at you and smiled for the first time tonight. That warmed your heart, and you were certain it warmed his. He watched you stuff something inside his pocket square as you told him your address. He went back inside, shutting the door on you. You walked back to the front of the restaurant to pay for the bill, and went straight home.

Mr. Pink shuffles past the chefs in the kitchen, feeling through his suit pocket to pull out his notepad and whatever you stuffed inside just moments ago.

I didn’t even serve them. Is this supposed to be for Mamie Van Doren? He stares down at the dollar bill crumpled in his hand. His frown suddenly transitions to a small but genuine smile.

Fuck it. Nothing could stop him now. He definitely owes you a date night. He quickly stuffs the tip back in his pocket square, and comes out the sliding door.

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes @aryn-the-bearheart

#reservoir dogs x reader #reservoir dogs fic #reservoir dogs fanfic #mr pink x reader #mr pink #reservoir dogs imagine #reservoir dogs #mr pink one shot #reader insert #reservoir dogs one shot #one shot #imagine #mk's faves

71 notes · View notes

mostlymovieswithmax · 3 years

Text

Movies I watched in March

Thought I’d chronicle the films I’ve been watching over the March period, from the 1st to the 31st, and how I’d rate them. If you’re looking for something to watch, perhaps this will help. A lot of these movies are available on streaming services also.

The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) - 10/10

I hadn’t watched this in a couple of years but I was blown away. Peak Scorsese.

Rushmore (1998) - 7/10

Not the best Wes Anderson movie for me but still fun.

Lion (2016) - 8/10

I discussed this at length on my podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. Great movie!

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10

Now this is one of the best Wes Anderson movies. I discuss this more on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Fantastic, funny and I watched it twice because it’s so much fun.

Inception (2010) - 10/10

Discussed on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Best Christopher Nolan movie for me, Inception is just breathtaking.

The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou (2004) - 5/10

This might be Anderson’s weakest film (at least from what I’ve seen) but it’s still not as bad as a lot of directors at their worst.

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) - 10/10

I was really on an Anderson binge in March. The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most wholesome movies I’ve seen and certainly one of his best films.

Rome, Open City (1945) - 4/10

This was filmed in Nazi-occupied Italy and from that premise, the film enticed me. Despite having some interesting qualities, I do feel that initial pull is most of what the movie has going for it.

The Prestige (2006) - 7/10

I showed this to my brother and for what it’s worth, he enjoyed it. I do think this is one of Nolan’s weaker efforts but considering how much I like it, that speaks a lot to Nolan’s filmography as a whole.

Nostalgia (1983) - 10/10

I watched Nostalgia three times in the space of a week and reviewed it on The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s phenomenal.

Kangaroo Jack (2003) - 1/10

Another one I watched for the podcast. Kangaroo Jack is truly terrible and it upset me a great deal. Avoid this movie.

Stalker (1979) - 10/10

Another Andrei Tarkovsky movie (director of Nostalgia). I watched this again during the day before my second watch of Nostalgia and while it’s hard to compare such different movies, I enjoy Stalker more. It’s a staple of Russian cinema for a reason.

Four Lions (2010) - 5/10

Watched for the podcast. I didn’t really gel with this comedy but it would certainly appeal to someone who enjoys the humour, as my co-hosts did.

Revolutionary Road (2008) - 6/10

This Sam Mendes joint was a tad too melodramatic but still boasted some great performances from Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet.

Metropolis (1927) - 6/10

This silent film is a staple in cinematic history. Its themes are as painfully relevant today as they were in the 20’s, yet despite that I found a lot of it to be intensely boring. After it hit the hour mark, I started playing it at 1.5x speed.

Crimson Peak (2015) - 4/10

A lot of great set design and costumes and colours, yet the story itself was madly uninteresting.

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind (2004) - 10/10

Who doesn’t love a good movie written by Charlie Kaufman? I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and after a third watch, it is as fascinating as it is gut-wrenching.

Godzilla (2014) - 3/10

If you wanted to see Godzilla fight a bunch of monsters for two hours, then this is not the movie for you. There’s maybe about ten minutes total of on-screen Godzilla action and considering that’s really all anyone’s watching this for, it’s amazing the titular sea lizard occupies so little of the movie.

Prisoners (2013) - 10/10

Brilliant mystery thriller by my favourite director, Denis Villeneuve. Discussed on the podcast.

Eraserhead (1977) - 7/10

David Lynch’s debut feature film went down in my estimations this time around. You can listen to why on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Still, Eraserhead is a very good movie.

Raiders of The Lost Ark (1981) - 6/10

The first Indiana Jones movie proved to be a fun romp and Harrison Ford plays the character beautifully. I’m just not a big fan of Spielberg and his average verging on pretty good but rarely ever great movies. Perhaps on a second watch, I may enjoy this more.

The Seventh Seal (1957) - 9/10

Watching this movie again was so much fun. So far, it’s my favourite Ingmar Bergman film. It’s a celebration of life and love, with an underlying sense of dread as death looms ever-present.

Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom (1984) - 5/10

I can tell why this generally looked on as the weakest in the trilogy. Harrison Ford is still great but the movie dragged a lot and felt more like a bunch of things happening for the sake of it rather than a fun action/adventure.

Indiana Jones and The Last Crusade (1989) - 7/10

The Last Crusade was a lot of fun and maybe it was Sean Connery’s inclusion, or perhaps the bottle of wine I drank through the movie elevated my enjoyment. But alcohol aside, I still believe this to be the best in the series.

Justice League (2017) - 2/10

People really weren’t kidding when they said this was bad. I watched this in preparation for the Snyder cut and I was not happy. This took years off my life.

Zack Snyder’s Justice League (2021) - 3/10

Barely any better and double the run-time of the original. I discussed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon and I was certainly not impressed. Better luck next time, Zack!

The Truman Show (1998) - 10/10

Brilliant movie and one I would highly recommend for a stellar Jim Carrey performance. This was another recommendation for the podcast.

Eighth Grade (2018) - 7/10

I was impressed with Bo Burnham’s debut feature. This is a coming of age story centred around a young girl growing up in the modern world and how it can affect the youth of today. Burnham shows a deep understanding of youth culture and a real knack for filmmaking.

Bad Education (2019) - 8/10

A real “yikes!” movie. If you want to learn a bit about the embezzlement that took place in an American school back in the early 2000’s, you need not look further than this tight drama with fantastic performances from Hugh Jackman and Allison Janney.

Twelve Monkeys (1995) - 8/10

One of the only movies where the time travel makes sense. I recommended this for The Sunday Movie Marathon and it’s pretty great.

Ready Or Not (2019) - 7/10

Despite a premise that is not wholly original and a super goofy third act, Ready Or Not is gory, violent fun with a lot of stylish art direction.

Dead Man (1995) - 3/10

Recommended on the podcast. I really did not get a lot out of Dead Man. It’s a very slow movie about Johnny Depp going through the woods and killing some people on the way, but it’s two hours long and hugely metaphorical and sadly it just didn’t connect.

Misbehaviour (2020) - 6/10

A big draw for me in Misbehaviour is Keira Knightley; I think she’s a great actor and I’m basically on board with anything she does. I’d been wanting to see this for a while and I was shocked to see just how relevant it is (being set in 1970) to the world we find ourselves in today, where women are still fighting to be heard and to be treated equally. While the film is not spectacular, I still got a lot from its themes, so recently after the murder of Sarah Everard and how women are being treated in their protest.

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb (1964) - 7/10

I was surprised at just how hilarious this early Kubrick movie is. While I can’t say it floored me or took any top spots, it’s still a great examination of the military and how they respond to threats or try to solve problems and the side of war we don’t often see in films: the people in the background sitting in a room making crucial decisions.

Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10

Wow! I can’t believe I’d never seen this before but I’d never really had access to it. Taxi Driver is a beautifully made movie with so much colour and vibrancy. De Niro puts on perhaps his best performance and Paul Schrader’s timeless script works miracles.

Sleepy Hollow (1999) - 5/10

Classic Tim Burton aesthetics in a pretty by the numbers, almost Supernatural-esque story eked out over an hour and forty minutes.

Seaspiracy (2021) - 6/10

Everyone’s going crazy over this documentary and I agree it tackles important issues we’re facing today surrounding the commercialization of the fishing industry, but a lot of what’s presented here is information already available to the public. The editing feels misplaced at times and the tone is all over the place. Nonetheless, it’s still quite fascinating to see good journalism being done in a way that exposes this side of the industry.

Pirates of The Carribean: The Curse of The Black Pearl (2003) - 8/10

Super fun and a great first instalment in a franchise that sadly seems to have peaked at the first hurdle.

My Octopus Teacher (2020) - 8/10

Great cinematography and a lovely premise, this documentary has garnered an Oscar nomination and I can see why.

The Sisters Brothers (2018) - 8/10

A really solid western I was happy to watch again. It’s a shame no one really talks about this movie because it is excellent with stunning visuals and great performances.

Pirates of The Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest (2006) - 5/10

A strangely massive drop in quality from the original. If I didn’t like the whole concept of this franchise so much, I might have had a worse time.

Reservoir Dogs (1992) - 8/10

On a second watch, Tarantino’s first feature is still wildly impressive.

Life of Brian (1979) - 7/10

This is perhaps my third time watching Monty Python’s Life of Brian and it’s still incredibly funny, however it never manages to measure up to its predecessor (and one of my all time favourites), Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

41 notes · View notes