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thebestbooksaround · 10 months

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This is a Buddie fic rec list where "one of them isn't a firefighter" That makes me warm and happy every time I read them <3

Part 1 || Part 2

Exploding Coffee Machines by inkinmyheartandonthepage (@inkinmyheartandonthepage) | 9k | General

Buck couldn’t be blamed for falling in love with his neighbour. He was powerless against the Diaz boys and wanted nothing more than to be swept up in their everything. Buck thought that Eddie felt the same, that their feelings of more than just being platonic best friends was mutual. Buck had been hopeful that Eddie inviting him to his boss’s house to meet his friends and co-workers meant that they were taking a step in the right direction.

A step that now Buck was going to be late for OR Buck gets burned at work and worries that he's blown his shot with Eddie when he runs late to meet his friends.

What is Love For $2000? by fayevian 17k | Mature

On the screen, the camera pans down as they introduce the contestants. Mary, on her 3rd day winning streak, is a dowdy teacher type. Center stage is occupied by a graying man with loopy handwriting named Auggie. And all the way to the right is… Evan. Damn. --- One night when Eddie can't sleep, he discovers the hottest Jeopardy contestant of all time (objectively). With the "help" of his team and his fairly good working knowledge of Twitter, they devise a plan to get Evan (from Jeopardy) to slide into Eddie's DMs. It works surprisingly well.

i like you so much (it's kinda gross) by brewrosemilk, stardustbuddie (@gayhoediaz) (@wh0re-behavi0r) | 10k | Explicit

Buck Buckley (@/firefighterbuck): @/eddiediaz I’ll never be able to tug your hair now, huh?

Eddie Diaz (@/eddiediaz): @/firefighterbuck It’s against the rules, anyway. You don’t look like a fighter, though. What situation would we be in that would make you want to tug my hair?

(Or: Eddie is an MMA fighter and Buck thirsts on twitter.)

you make the world taste better by farfromthstars (@buckactuallys) | 11k | Teen

They follow the room numbers down the hallway until the last door on the right. It’s slightly ajar, and when Eddie knocks politely, it opens further.

“Hey,” a cheerful, male voice says. “You guys are early!”

When Eddie spots the source of the voice, he nearly swallows his tongue.

The man is tall, with broad shoulders and huge arms, a sunny smile on his face that looks so genuine Eddie can’t help but smile back. There’s a splash of pink over his one eye, his hair is just the slightest bit curly, and his eyes are startlingly blue. He’s also about 80% legs, and leaning on a cane to walk.

Belatedly, Eddie remembers that he should say something too, not just stare at this guy approaching them.

“Uh,” he starts eloquently. “Sorry. This one was getting impatient at home ~ Newly arrived to LA, Eddie decides to take his son to parent/child cooking classes. The instructor is so much more than he expected

stupid people. by brewrosemilk (@gayhoediaz) | 160k | Explicit

New in Los Angeles, and having recently admitted to himself that he's gay, Eddie figures that hiring a sex worker might be a good way to keep his private life cut off from his job and his son. A way to keep things from becoming too complicated.

It works. For a while.

your dreary mondays by hammersmiths (@henswilsons) | 33k | Teen

“Wait, you need a sitter?” Chimney says. Eddie nods. “Maddie’s brother got back in town a few nights ago, he’s looking for work.”

Eddie frowns. He doesn’t know much about this mysterious brother of Maddie’s – doesn’t even really know much about Maddie, either, aside from being Chimney’s girlfriend – but he’s pretty sure every time he’s been brought up in conversation it’s not been particularly inspiring. “Is this the brother who flunked out of college because he spent all his tuition on a motorcycle?”

Chimney colours a little. “Um. No?”

or, Buck babysits Christopher and Eddie is—fine about it, actually.

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) by heartbeatdiaz (@heartbeatdiaz) | 4k | Teen

Eddie doesn't know much about Chris' science teacher, except that he's his son favorite and apparently knows everything there's to know. ( Those were Christopher's words. )

So when he enters the classroom, expecting an old man dressed nicely but a little old-fashioned as the science teacher, his whole life crashes to a halt.

"Evan?" The man who's leaning against the desk, looking at some papers, suddenly startles and looks up at Eddie with wide blue eyes.

"Holy shit," It's what the man says after spending at least a minute opening and closing his mouth. or; Eddie met Evan when he was a bartender in Peru and Eddie was on vacation with his cousins. They had a one night stand and Eddie woke up the next morning to an empty bed and a disappointed heart. Just for the same guy to end up being Chris' teacher years after.

always glad you came by foxwatson (@eddiediazes) | 5k | Teen

Buck is the incredibly kind but incredibly straight bartender at Eddie's local gay bar. Eddie is trying very, very hard not to be pathetically in love with him, and is failing miserably.

“Hey, you’re back,” Buck had said, greeting him with that sun-bright grin, and Eddie had yet again been reminded why he’d started questioning his sexuality.

“Well, I get one night off a week. And tonight I could really use the drink.”

Buck’s brow had furrowed, and he got Eddie his favorite beer without even asking again what it was. “You need to talk about it? Assuming I read you right and you’re the kind of guy who talks to a bartender instead of a therapist.”

Eddie had winced theatrically. “Ouch. That obvious, huh?”

“Hey, man, you’re the one that told me you started coming here on your coworker’s advice. Feels like something you’d get from a therapist, if you had one.”

see the stars with my morning eyes by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So,” Buck announces, sitting down between Hen and Chimney at the concessions stand. “I think Eddie’s trying to get me to sleep with him and his fiancée.”

or: Eddie calls Lucy his partner. Buck extrapolates.

walking on sunshine by fallingthorns (@fallingthorns) | 5k | Teen

“Shut up,” Buck grumbles at the dog. “It’s not a crush.”

Buck walks out of the room, out the backdoor, and into the yard, trying to ignore his large and judgmental dog following behind him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Buck tells him as he gets the hose out to start watering his plants. “Keep it to yourself.”

“Who are you talking to?”

Buck startles and drops the hose, doing a quick 180-degree turn and coming face-to-face with Eddie. He’s clearly standing on something, elbows folded over the top of the fence and chin resting on them as he looks at Buck. His expression looks almost fond and it kind of makes Buck want to both preen and die of embarrassment. -- Or, the one where Buck owns a doggy daycare, has a large dog with an attitude, and is hopelessly in love with his new neighbor.

Under Any Roof by moncuries (@moncuries) | 10k | Teen

Eddie Diaz does not need a noisy neighbor on top of all the shit he's trying to work out.

But he does make really good mac and cheese. -- “You know,” And Buck is meeting his eyes now. They’re uncannily blue. Like Kool-Aid or popsicles. “If you want, I could show you what I get up to up there?”

What? WHAT? Eddie feels heat spread from the tips of his ears to his toes. No way had he just gotten propositioned before sunrise in the decrepit hallway of their apartment building. “Um. No.” He backs up until his calves brush the door to 101. “Thank you, really. But no.”

my house of stone, your ivy grows by stayeven (@demieddie) | 7k | Mature

When Eddie resigns himself to buying sex toys in person—despite the popularity of online ordering now—he expects to be embarrassed and overwhelmed. What he doesn't expect is to leave with a crush on the employee with captivating blue eyes.

and we can stay all day by trippedandfell (@trippedandfell) | 3k | Teen

“So let me get this straight,” Hen says, once she’s stopped laughing at him. “Your nerd crush-

“-Evan Buckley,” Eddie miserably interjects.

“Your nerd crush,” Hen repeats, waggling her eyebrows. At the kitchen table beside her, Chimney is grinning like Christmas just came early. “Read your drunk tweet and then sent you animal facts via DM?”

or: Buck's a zoologist. Eddie's pretty sure he's in love.

#Fics I love #Buddie #Eddie Diaz #Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley #911onfox #911 fan fiction #buddiefanfiction #Buddie fic #911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 on abc

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purinfelix · 3 months

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show me how ⊹˚. ♡

pairing: reader x spiderman!carlos sainz summary: your new neighbour is a mystery to you, and so is the masked vigilante that you've heard news of around your city - but the chances of them being related are impossible, right? warnings: none! w/c: 2.8k (i don't know how to write short fics i'm sorry)

a/n: after nearly a month away, i'm back !! most of it was bc i was on holiday but also bc I've had the worst writers block ... also i can't decide if i have horrible or amazing timing given the news abt lewis butttt its ok!!! just hope yall enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3333 (just note it might be a little rough ...)

You didn’t know that much about your neighbours.

Granted, it had only been about two months since they moved into the apartment next door and for the most part, they kept to themselves. But, during this short period, you’d managed to compile a list of facts you knew about them for no reason other than pure curiosity.

You knew they hosted quests quite often, almost once a week, which you could always tell by the loud music and banter that went on late into the night whenever they did. You knew the woman of the house was an excellent cook, having often walked past their door and caught a whiff of whatever it was she was making for dinner. You knew they were a family, quite a young one, with a son who was about your age and a student at your university. You’d spotted him around campus, often donning a pair of headphones and a hoodie that silently said “Leave me alone”. You’d yet to see him smile though, which you had initially chalked up to some remnants of teenage angst, at least until you spotted him leaving the chemistry labs with an unkempt stack of notes.

Despite these facts, your neighbours were still largely an enigma to you. And for the most part, you didn’t mind - this was New York you lived in, where not knowing much about whoever lived next door wasn’t unheard of. It wasn’t like you didn’t have anything better to do than stalk them too, considering you were swamped with university work, going into your second year as a nursing major.

This painful reminder weighed down on you as you dragged your feet through your apartment door, only managing out a tired mumble as a greeting to your parents. They didn’t seem to mind though, from their spots on the couch you couldn’t make out their faces, but you could tell they were immersed in tonight’s latest news story. The bright light of the television emitted a soft glow, and you couldn’t help but lend a listening ear as you trudged past.

“This just in, reports of a masked vigilante who has been helping the local community at night,” read out the news reporter, an image of the mentioned figure showing behind him.

You couldn’t help but let out an amused scoff as you pulled your backpack higher onto your shoulder, at how ridiculous the guy looked. Even after living here your whole life you had yet to hear anything as ridiculous as some weirdo running around in a mask at night.

Pushing open the door to your dimly lit room, you collapsed onto your bed with a soft thump. The fatigue from a long day of lectures and tutorials seemed to catch up to you as your eyelids drooped and you weakly grasped at your covers in an attempt to pull them over you. Even as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, you could faintly make out the news reporter continuing.

“People are calling this figure ‘Spiderman’, due to his red and blue suit reminiscent of the bug, The individual’s identity remains unknown though, and any persons with any information are encouraged to talk to their local police about it.”

You wake to a tapping sound. It’s quiet at first, but starts to get louder and more desperate before ultimately rousing you from your sleep, confused and disoriented. You push your hair out of your face and can just make out the time on your bedside clock, which blinks “2:34am”. Wiping a line of drool dribbling down your cheek with embarrassment, you whip your neck around to locate the source of the tapping noise.

That is, until you spot it, a shadowy figure peeking out of the corner of your window. Initially, your instinct is to scream as loud as humanely possible, but instead your body freezes you in place. Resigned to just staring at the figure with eyes wide in shock, you watch in horror, as it lifts a finger to what you assume is its mouth, signalling for you to be quiet. You bob your head to signal that you understand, and your arm springs up with a mind of its own, already reaching to open the window - although whether it’s to wave it away or let it in you aren’t entirely sure.

The decision isn’t yours to make though, since the second an opening forms in your window the figure slips its fingers in and lifts it up with ease. Before you even realise it, it’s slipped seamlessly into the bedroom, your bedroom, where it stands in place. You let out a shaky breath, your hand fumbling in the darkness for you lamp which you flick on, basking your room in a warm light and illuminating the figure in front of you in all of its red and blue glory. You feel your breath hitch in your throat.

“… Spiderman?” you gasp breathlessly, and the name sounds unreal coming from your mouth, mostly because you never thougt you’d say it out loud, ever. The figure in front of you shows no reaction though, as it moves its arm, and you flinch, only before you realise it’s reaching to pull its mask off.

First pops out a long, messy mop of dark hair, which falls over his eyes just as his mask falls to the ground. Bringing up a hand, he brushed his locks out of the way to reveal a familiar face.

You’re rendered speechless, unable to do anything but let out a confused huff as you take in the features of your neighbour. Instinctively, your hand reaches out to grasp his shoulder, almost as if to make sure he’s real and not just a figment of a really really strange dream. It’s almost too much for you to wrap your head around, until he steps closer to you, further into the light, and you notice a rip in his suit not far from where your hand is, spanning from his shoulder to the centre of his chest.

You take a step back, and realise its one of many rips, some revealing gaping wounds and sores. In the light you can also notice his chest, the way it’s heaving, and the exhausted look on his face.

“Look, I’ll answer all your questions later, I just,” he pauses to chew on his bottom lip and to catch his breath, “I need your help.”

You try not to think too much about how deep his voice sounds, compared to what you expected, having never heard it before, and focus on the issue at hand. You’re inclined to do the normal thing, to turn him away, to tell this stranger to get the hell out of your room, but the desperation in his tone causes you to nod.

“Sit down,” you order, already turning to grab the first aid kit you keep on your desk. Behind you, you hear him let out a tired sigh as he sits on the edge of your bed, which groans under his weight. Kit in hand, you pull up your desk chair and scoot as close to him as you can get. It doesn’t occur to you to worry about just how close you are to your neighbour, who at this distance you’re slowly realising is a lot more attractive than you’ve ever realised, since you’re too busy worrying over his wounds.

You go through the familiar motions you’ve learnt, even with your preliminary nursing knowledge, first wetting a cotton ball with antiseptic to clean up the gory mess he’s made of himself. As soon as the cotton makes contact with his skin though, he lets out a hiss of pain, causing you to shrink back and look up at him with concern.

“Sorry,” he mumbles sternly, although the way his eye avoids yours hints at embarrassment more than anything. You try your best to work quickly, or as quickly as you can with a patient that keeps wriggling out of your touch. It occurs to you though, that this might be the best time to get some answers to your questions.

Okay, so,” you say, once you’ve finally managed to clean up all his wounds and can get to patching them up, “I think I’m owed an explanation.”

“What is there to explain?” he says, and for a moment he sounds genuinely confused - as if he’s the one who has the right to be confused in this situation - but this gives way to more of a shy tone, “I’m Spiderman, that’s all there is to it.”

“That’s all there is?” you scoff, pulling out big wads of gauze from your kit, “you don’t just become a masked vigilante overnight, tell me from the start.”

“Well actually, I kinda did,” he lets out a soft laugh, and you’re taken aback by the fact that it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him actually smile, “I got bitten by a spider one day and when I woke up the next, I had all these powers.”

“Like?”

“I mean, for one I can shoot webs.”

“What like, from your-”

“No, from my wrists,” he shuts down your question hurriedly before carrying on, “I can also stick to walls, and I have these weird tingles that tell me when things are wrong.”

“Okay,” you say, drawing out the end of your word to show that you don’t entirely believe him. “And this has been going on for, how long?”

“About a month.”

“A month?” you exclaim in shock. “What, so you’ve managed being a chemistry major on top of, being,” you pause, searching for the right word to describe what he is, “a superhero?”

“Well, it isn’t easy but- wait, how did you know I’m a chemistry major?” he leans closer to you, trying to catch your eye with a small smirk tugging at his lips, “have you been stalking me?”

“Hey, it’s not like that okay?” you mutter defensively, “You’re my neighbour, so it’s only normal I’d notice you around campus and stuff.” Avoiding his eye, you press down on a bandaid a little too hard, causing him to draw in a sharp breath, and for you to quickly apologise.

“Anyways, I’m the one asking the questions here okay?” You huff in flustered exasperation, before pausing for a bit, “Why did you come to me anyways?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, motioning to his injuries.

”I mean, yes, but why me? Wouldn’t you much rather your mum or dad do this instead of me?”

He’s quiet for a while, and he can’t bring himself to look at you when he speaks again.

”My, uhm, my parents don’t know about this,” he mumbles.

“Then, a sibling? A friend? Someone you actually know?”

Silence once more, only this time you’re the one to break it.

“No one knows?”

He nods. “No one except for you now.”

The weight of this realisation weighs down on your shoulders like a pile of bricks and you have to pull yourself back from the wound you’re tending to to let it sink in. Here he is, your neighbour, the Spiderman, revealing his identity to you and you only. For the first time that evening, you realise how truly vulnerable the man sitting on your bed has allowed himself to be with you and you can’t help but feel your heart flutter, as well as beat at the immense amount of pressure you know have to deal with.

“Plus, I don’t think any of them would know how to fix me up as good as a nursing student,” he adds, still avoiding your eye, but trying his best to lighten the mood. You let him.

“Oh, and I’m the stalker?”

He avoids your question. “Are you done yet?”

“Almost, one more.”

He watches you work with a quiet, resigned expression, almost fascinated with how quickly you’ve managed to tape down the gauze and conceal his wounds. You lean back to look at your work with a proud smile, closing up your kit and going to put it away.

“Thank you,” he says, and it’s the most earnest he’s sounded all night.

“Don’t sweat it, it’s not like I could turn you away in the state you’re in.” You’re trying your best to maintain a casual composure about this whole situation, even if it means being slightly awkward.

“Good point,” he chuckles, rubbing his nape sheepishly, “well, I better get going.” He’s already reaching out to slide your window up but you stop him by holding out your hand.

“Hold on, you really think you’re going to be able to climb back into your room after that? Your injuries are far too serious, you need to rest first.”

He’s a little taken aback, “For how long?”

“I’d say, at least until the end of the night.”

“If you wanted me to stay over, you could’ve just asked,” he says slyly, and for the second time that night you’re caught off guard.

“Wh- don’t be stupid, I’m the nursing student, and that’s just my professional opinion!”

“Whatever you say doc,” you catch him scanning the room once more, “but uhm, where exactly will I sleep?”

“Oh, you can take the bed, I’ve slept on the floor plenty of times.”

“Now you’re the one being stupid, this is your room, I’ll take the floor,” he insists.

You’re still unconvinced, but you can tell he’s too tired to argue with you and decide to let him win.

“Fine,” you say, the word more a sigh than anything. He looks at you, eyes soft with gratitude and you can’t help but feel a strange pang in your chest at the sight. “Let me get you a blanket at least.”

You turn around to gather a few blankets and a pillow from your closet, which you make into a makeshift bed on the floor, and he watches you the whole time, his gaze heavy on your back. When you’re done, you stand up and dust off your hands before gesturing for him to lay in it. As he does, you climb back into your own bed.

There’s a short silence filled with nothing but the rustling of blankets as the two of you get comfortable, and some soft grunts of discomfort from where he is on the floor. Finally though, the two of you lay still.

“Good night, Spiderman,” you say, forcing a lightness in your voice that you don’t quite feel given the night’s events. You’re half expecting him not to respond, but when he does you can hear the smile in his voice, even though you can’t see him.

“Carlos.”

“Huh?”

“My name, it’s Carlos. You don’t need to call me Spiderman, at least, not now.”

“Oh, right,” you feel almost bad that it sounds like you’re making a mockery of him, and you can feel an apology forming in your mouth before he speaks again.

“Goodnight, doc,” he hums, before turning off the lamp on your desk. Your room is once again plunged into darkness, and you’re left to stare up at the ceiling, and try your best to sleep despite the millions of thoughts buzzing around in your mind.

You wake again, only this time it’s to the sound of birds chirping outside of your window and the first rays of morning sun slipping through it. You blink lazily, stretching out before forcing yourself to sit up.

The first thing you notice is the absence. The floor is empty, the makeshift bed gone and instead a pile of neatly folded blankets takes its place. There’s no sign that anyone else had been in your room, let alone Spiderman.

You peer outside your window, as if looking for a trace of him, evidence that the previous night had been more than just a weird dream, but find nothing. Instead the city wakes up with you, peoples bustling about, cars honking, just like any other day. It still feels surreal, and part of you is ready to label it a dream and move on, but you know better. You remember the desperation in his voice, the tenderness in his eyes, the wounds you had tended to.

Out of the corner of your eye though, you catch sight of a yellow sticky note balanced carefully on top of the pile of blankets. Slowly you climb out of your bed and read it, the letters ‘IOU’ scrawled in a lettering that is definitely not your handwriting. It might not be much, but it’s all the confirmation you need as you whisper a silent prayer for his safety, his health, and for the two of you to cross paths once more.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz oneshot #carlos sainz jr #cs55 #ferrari #formula one #carlos sainz fanfic #formula one fanfic #f1 #purinfelix #jet writes ★#spiderman au

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wandering-winchesters · 1 year

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Tragedy

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3,626 Summary: The reader is used to hunting solo, yet this solo hunt does not turn out quite like she had hoped. She is required to call on Dean and Sam after she is injured. Trigger Warnings: injury, firearms, blood, death. SPN level violence Requested: No A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I had fun writing it. Please let me know what you think. :)

Masterlist

I let out a sigh, tossing my laptop onto the motel bed, frustrated didn’t even begin to cover it. I had spent the last several hours searching through local records, looking for any deaths that fit the profile of the ghosty murderer floating around town, but nothing lined up. I wished Sam was here, he would’ve been incredibly helpful searching for an answer. But I had split off from them a couple weeks ago, returning to solo hunts, like the old days. They had both argued with me, tried to convince me to stay with them., but I had insisted on going off on my own again. I had to prove to myself that I still could, I felt as if I was slipping into a pit of dependance and a lack of self sufficiency.

I had spent the last six months hunting with the two Winchester boys, helping them tackle numerous cases, which was nice. However, it terrified me how comfortable I was around them, I had told myself that I wouldn’t ever get too close to someone ever again. But with them, it was too easy to fall into comfortable dependency. Especially Dean. God, Dean Winchester. His eyes could pierce my soul if I let them, they appeal to me like a siren appeals to helpless sailors. I couldn’t resist him when I was around him, causing me to make stupid choices, I went with his gut over my own and it left me feeling helpless. It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t doing anything intentionally, I just couldn’t help but fall further in love with the green eyed hunter every moment I spent with him. Which is exactly why I left, love had never come easy for me. I had lost my parents as a teenager and branched off on my own, evading the torment that would have greeted me had I gone to live with my Uncle. I never went to college, I hunted. Yet while on one of those hunts, I met Ian. Ian had been the love of my life, before he met an unfortunate end in a terrible car accident, eerily similar to the way my parents died. Death, followed me and those that I let in and loved.

So I had sworn off love, friendship and anything else that let people into my life. That was until the two Winchesters had busted down the door to the old house, guns drawn, expecting to find me in the captivity of a werewolf den. Instead, they found me. My own weapon drawn, the body of a dead werewolf at my feet. I wish I had been recording that moment, the looks on their faces were utterly priceless. I had agreed to help them on one more hunt, that turned into three, which turned into six months worth. I was getting too comfortable and I just had to get out. That’s how I wound up alone in this motel, attempting to crack the case in this podunk town. I laid down on the musty motel bed, pushing my laptop onto the far side and leaving enough room for me to lay down. I stare at the cracks in the ceiling, following the trail they make and trying to distinguish where one starts and another one ends. Then it hits me, I have been looking in the wrong place this whole time. All of the deaths had occurred at the local bar and I had assumed it was a vengeful spirit, but what if it wasn’t? What if it was a, shit- what are they called? I grab my laptop hurriedly pulling up the lore I had been reading earlier, my eyes scanning the words quickly, skimming until I land on what I was looking for. A wraith. They had all died under mysterious circumstances, but they all had the same wound on their forehead. A small, circular incision. It had to be a wraith, but who was it? There was one bartender, he was my number one suspect. I glance at the clock, it’s not too late to go now. I ensure it is loaded with silver bullets before I tuck my gun into the holster, placing it at the small of my back and covering it with my leather jacket. I glance around my room once more making sure that I am not leaving anything behind. I send Sam a quick text, updating him as to my suspicions, he had texted me earlier in the day just checking in with me, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep him updated.

The drive to the small little dive bar was short and uneventful. I checked to make sure my gun was still in place as I opened the door to the interior, the hinges in need of help judging by the loud shriek of protest they gave off as I opened it. I take in my surroundings, making note of the few people inside the bar. There were five, the bartender and four other customers not including myself. The bartender glances my way, gesturing that I can sit anywhere, he’s an unassuming man. His hair neat and well groomed, yet everything else about him is a mystery, we’ll call him blondie. I take a seat at the corner of the bar, my back to a wall and my field of view encompassing the majority of the room.

“What can I get you?” He asks, setting a coaster down in front of me. I consider him carefully, trying to determine if he was a threat. I order a beer and a water, fully prepared to sit back and wait everyone else out. The television is the loudest sound in the bar, conversations around me hushed and sparse. Most people too focused on their drinks or the television to be deep in conversation. That’s how the next hour goes, I sip my beer and observe the people around me, watching and waiting. I pull out my phone and see a text and a missed call.

-Missed call, 9:53 P.M. Sam Winchester

-10:13 P.M., From Dean Winchester- Sammy said you found a wraith? Want some backup? They can be tricky bastards.

An unconscious smile pricks my lips, the concern in his text obvious. I respond with a brief thanks, but no thanks and send Sammy another text asking if everything is okay.

A few of the other people in the room had left by this point, leaving just myself, the blonde man behind the bar and one other guy, who appeared to be in his mid thirties. I drained the last sip of my beer, setting the bottle down on the surface of the bar. I rolled my shoulders back, my upper back starting to ache from the lack of support provided by the stool that I had been sitting on for the last while. I am taken aback by another beer being set down in front of me, I hadn’t ordered it. The confusion must be clear on my face, because the bar tender gestures to the man a few seats away from me. “It’s from him.” Blondie says, a small smile pulling at his features, which confuses me further. I glance once more to the one other customer in the bar and I find his eyes are already fixed on me, dark and focused.

“Thanks.” I mutter, raising my beer towards him, suspicion heavy in my voice. For whatever reason, this rubs me the wrong way. The environment in the room had changed and every bone in my body was screaming danger. My gut said this was about to get bad.

“I figured you deserved another beer before you meet your accidental death. We knew you were a hunter from the second you pulled into town. It’s a pity, you’re too pretty to die this young. Too bad.” His words hit me like a brick to the face, my eyes close and I take a deep breath. This was it, it wasn’t one wraith it was two. In that moment, I regretted leaving the safety of numbers. Had Sam and Dean been here, it would’ve been three to two. Not two to one, with me on the losing team. I blink once more, taking one more deep breath, the kind that makes your lungs scream from too much oxygen and I hurl my beer bottle at the bartenders head. This action buying me a few seconds, enough to get off the stool and anchor my feet on the old wooden floor. Nevertheless, it wasn’t enough. Blondie had stumbled back from the impact of my beer smacking off the side of his head, however that had given the other wraith the opportunity to close the distance between us. His fist collided with the corner of my jaw he then proceeded to throw me into the hard surface of the bar. I grunt, the sheer force that he had thrown me with enough to knock the air out of my lungs. This hunt was about to go down terribly, I could handle one wraith on my own, but two? I don’t know if I could manage to take out both of them. I can already feel the throbbing in my jaw from his blow and I am dreading how I will feel in the morning, if I make it to the morning. I rest my elbows on the bar top, using my momentum to kick my feet into his chest and send him flying backwards. I use the gap I have created to pull my gun from the waistband of my pants, aim and fire a silver bullet right between his eyes. He drops, dead weight.

“NO! You’re going to pay for that, you bitch!” Blondie yells, his eyes trained on his friend who had just fallen, dead, to the floor of the bar. I turn to face him, my gun pointed directly at him. He snarls, his attention turned towards me. For whatever reason, I hesitate, my finger doesn’t pull the trigger and I don’t end him. A complete mistake, he closes the distance between us faster than I can comprehend and sends my gun clattering to the floor. His hands shoving me backwards, causing me to stumble and fall to the floor. It happens in a matter of seconds, seconds I cannot even process. My gun is no longer in my hands, but it is clutched in his grip. He points it towards me and fires, it hits me directly in the side. A scream leaves my lips, but I don’t have time to process what just happened because his body is now on top of mine, his anger clear and pulsating through him. My hands come up to defend my face, pushing him away with all of my strength, but he is stronger. I wrap my fingers around his wrist, knowing what is to follow. The spike in his wrist is already extended and it is clear that he intends to send it straight through my skull.

“Any last words?” He asks, his mouth set into a sneer, his fingers just brushing my forehead preparing to send the spike through my forehead.

I grit my teeth, every nerve in my body screaming, adrenaline pumping and thoughts rushing through me. I laugh, bitter and cold and It catches him off guard. That slight hesitation is all I need to get the upper hand, I slide my hand up from where I was gripping his arm. I grab onto the spike extended from his wrist and wrench it backwards with all of my strength, effectively breaking it in two. His scream sends shivers down my spine, the spike still clutched tightly in my fist. I pull the knife from where I keep it hidden around my neck and drive it through his skull, much like he had intended to do to me. His full weight falls onto me and I cry out in pain, his body crushing the oxygen out of my lungs and the bullet wound in my side is throbbing like no other. I manage to slide out from underneath of him, slowly and agonizingly. I scoot myself backwards towards the wall, finally reaching it and I slump back against it. I look down at the hand I had pressed to the gun shot wound on my side and wince, it’s not a pretty sight. Crimson has soaked through the white t-shirt I was wearing, a lot of blood by the looks of it. My head is spinning, either from blood loss or the blow to the head, I wasn’t sure which one. I cover my mouth as a coughing fit wracks my body and when I pull my hand away there are traces of blood there too. Fuck. This really wasn’t good. Before I could even register what I was doing, I had pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Dean. He picks up on the second ring.

“How’s it going sweetheart? Did you change your mind about wanting help with the wraiths?” He asks, his tone cheery, I can hear the roar of the Impala in the background and it brings a slight smile to my face. I must have remained silent for longer than I thought because Dean speaks again, his voice serious and concern flecked throughout. “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mmm, I took out the wraiths, but they got me good too. Any chance you’re nearby?” I groan, trying to reposition myself in such a way that I can apply better pressure to the wound in my side. I can hear the Impala accelerating, as Dean responds. “Shit. We are twenty minutes out from town, figured we’d surprise you. Where’s the bar?” I manage to give him brief directions, doing my best to recall where exactly I was.

“I’m so tired Dean.” I whisper, the phone beginning to slip from my hand and away from my ear.

“Hey, no, don’t do that. You don’t get to do that, you hear me? You stay with me, talk to me. I am almost there sweetheart.” He responds and I can hear the panic rising in his voice but its too late. Every breath is a battle, holding my phone to my ear is impossible. The amount of strength it requires is simply too much. I watch as it clatters to the floor, my eyes slowly blinking shut. I slump forward, the world around me fading into black.

—

I vaguely notice voices, irritating voices drawing me back towards consciousness. I try my damndest to ignore them, the more I focus on them the greater the pain is flowing through my body. I hear my name being yelled, my shoulders behind jostled and my body being laid flat on a hard wooden surface. My head is placed onto something soft and I take that as permission to sleep. Yet I don’t get to do that, hands grab my face pulling me back into consciousness.

“Y/N, hey, oh thank God, look at me Y/N.” Dean is leaning over me grim faced, his hand pressed tightly against my rips holding something against it. I wince, trying to pull his hand away but he stops me. Sam’s face swims into view as well, his hand cradling the back of my head.

“Dean.” I sigh, my voice weak and seemingly coming from someone other than myself. “Doesn’t seem too bad, does it?” I ask, laughing slightly before grimacing from the pain that causes. His face is pale, eyes searching for the answer to my question, he doesn’t have to answer, I know it doesn’t look good.

“Im going to get you out of here, I promise. You’re gonna be okay.” He says, lifting my shirt so he can tie the bandage around me as tight as he can. He picks me up, a yell leaving my lips in the process. I can hear him whispering reassurances and apologies as he carries me out to the Impala. It all feels like a dream, as if I am watching from above as all of this happens. I drift in and out of the darkness the entire car ride, the whole way into the motel room. Until eventually, it all fades to black once again.

—

“I don’t know what else to do Sammy, the bullet went all of the way through. We stopped the bleeding and stitched her up. But that was hours ago! She still hasn’t woken back up.” Deans voice sounds nearby, anxious and completely grating on my nerves at the moment.

“Would you shut up! ‘M trying to sleep here.” I groan, the throbbing of my nerves returning like a wave of pain rushing over me. I hear a flurry of movement, before the bed sinks down next to me and I can feel a hand rest against the side of my face. I open my eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust my eyes to the harsh lighting a stark comparison to the darkness of sleep I was used to. When my eyes his, he falls apart. Tears spring to his eyes and he breaks down before my very eyes. His mouth opens and closes multiple times, searching for something, anything to say.

“Dean, Im okay.” I whisper, my voice raspy and aching in my throat. He shakes his head, his eyes still trained on my own.

“You weren’t, we almost lost you so many times Y/N.” His words sink in slowly, understanding for his reaction lands on me in droves.

“I’m sorry I worried you. Thank you for getting to me in time.” I reach my hand up and touch the side of his face, surprised when he leans into my touch.

“He made the twenty minute drive into an eight minute one.” Sam says, and for the first time I realize that he’s sitting in the chair a couple of feet from the bed. I chuckle lightly, unsurprised, Dean was always able to drive way too fast when he needed to, a talent almost.

We spend the next few hours talking, questions being thrown at me from every angle. I do my best to answer them, but exhaustion quickly settles in. Sam notices and mentions to Dean that they should let me get some sleep, there’s a slight argument over who will stay with me. Much to my surprise, Dean is insistent upon staying himself. Sam gives me a quick hug and excuses himself from the room, which leaves Dean and I alone. Oh so alone. It wasn’t the first time we had shared a room, but it felt completely different this time. An uncomfortable silence hangs between us, neither one of us wanting to be the one that breaks it. I shift my body, trying to prop myself up further in bed. A decision I regret as soon as I flex the wrong muscle and am greeted by a screaming pain in my side. I throw my head back, my mouth opening in a silent yell. Deans hands are on me in an instant, helping me settle into a more comfortable position. I give him a grateful smile and expect the silence to continue, but it doesn’t.

“You’re never doing this again, you hear me? You’re only ever hunting with us from now on. I could’t bear it when I found you like that and I definitely couldn’t bear it if it ever happened again.” Dean says quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. I’m quiet for a minute, considering my response carefully, unsure where his words were coming from. Dean wasn’t controlling, so it wasn’t that. Concern was evident, but I didn’t think that was enough to spur him to make that declaration.

“Dean, I am really okay. It was a bad turn of events, but I have been hunting for years on my own and I made it this far. You don’t need to worry about me, ill be-“ He cuts me off, his voice raised and his hands running through his already disheveled hair.

“You don’t get it, do you? Ever since that night, six months ago, I have worried about you. I care about you, Y/N, so worrying comes with the territory. For a time, I thought you cared about me in that way. But then you left. You just left and I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I followed after you, not wanting something to happen to you and thank god I did.” His words leave me speechless, did he mean what I think he means? Before I can protest or respond in anyway, he’s walking over to me. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning towards me. His hand comes to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me towards him ever so slightly. He leans in, his face nearing my own and my eyes flutter shut. His nose brushes my own, his breath causing goosebumps to rise on my skin.

“ I love you, Y/N and nearly losing you, made me realize that I couldn’t keep that to myself any longer. Fear in the face of tragedy and all of that.” He mumbles, his lips nearly brushing against my own as he speaks. I don’t think, I just act. I close the distance and press my lips against his own, dissolving into the kiss and I can tell he does too. His warmth envelopes me entirely, his lips, his touch, everything. When I finally pull away, my head is spinning. His words rushing through my mind, over and over again. “I love you too, Dean.” I whisper, smiling gently and I press another kiss to his lips. “Fear in the face of tragedy, how poetic.”

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starlightshadowsworld · 3 months

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Percy Jackson except Jason and Thalia were the first children born after the Big 3 vow.

Long before the events of the story.

Thalia still ends up and tree, but no one really knew what happened to Jason.

Until Sea of Monsters where instead of Tantalus showing up, Jason does.

Because if there's one thing Zeus/Jupiter's gonna do, it's punish his sons.

And just... Imagine everyone expecting some grised old being who's committed the worse crimes on earth.

But it's a kid.

It's a kid a few years older them wearing a tattered purple top.

He'd look like any other camper but there's chains on his wrists and ankles that drag behind him.

Scars covering his body and a tattoo no ones able to fully see.

His eyes mirror the sky before them and hold so much sadness that a person could drown in them.

Chiron is suprised to see him, a mix of greif and relief in his eyes as he greets him.

"It's good to see you, child."

"And you too, sir."

"None of that now, you are among friends."

Jason visibly relaxes at that, his smile goes from polite and practiced to genuine.

"Right... It's good to see you, old man."

His humour is so dry that's it's hard to tell when he's joking or not. And yet he's gotten some laughs.

It feels like a reward in itself when someone makes him laugh. His whole face lights up and for a second the sadness in him fades.

Jason's less off a new camp director as he is a glorified babysitter. And yet he takes it all in stride.

He's not a pushover and steps in to mediate, but for the most part let's everyone carry on as they wish.

If he's not around, Jason can be found sitting by his sisters tree. He talks in a hushed whisper, catching her up.

If anyone notices him crying, no one says a word.

Jason proves himself as a formidable fighter, having stopped a camper struggling with a sword technique and demonstrating it to them patiently.

Clarisse immediately challenges Jason.

He's clearly holding back but Jason does give her a fair fight. His fighting style is a lot more polished.

And yet, there's something wild about it.

He does smile at one point, when Maimer strikes him.

"I'm afraid, that little trick won't work on me."

It was a short fight but the Ares cabin definitely gained some respect for him.

Clarisse asks why he didn't use the electricity against her, and he says he can't.

Shaking his chains like that explained everything.

It's easy to forget Jason's parentage. Especially after seeing him gush over architecture with Annabeth.

Hell all he needs is grey eyes and he'd fit right in to the Athena cabin.

And yet, at the same time there's no one else who fits as Jason's parent than Zeus (well Jupiter but they don't know that.)

Jason's a natural leader, he's a great diplomat and can defuse even the most chaotic situations.

There's power in his words, authority and yet he doesn't abuse it. There's a weight that's always on his shoulders.

He's a mystery.

He doesn't sleep in the Zeus Cabin, he has a blanket and curls up on the ground. Apparently he's used too it.

Tho there's been times he has been persuaded to sleep in the Hermes cabin, it's rare he accepts.

Not that he sleeps much. People have heard the screams from his nightmares.

More often than not Jason's awake, talking to the Naids and Nymphs as he patrols camp grounds late at night.

Surprisingly none try and attack him, in fact they all treat him with respect.

Grover says that Jason's blessed by the wild by an ancient being, not that he knows who.

Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself, he will talk at length about his sister though. And old friends with a sad smile.

The past is a hard subject for him, he says bits and pieces but not much.

The camps magical food doesn't work for him. Jason goes out of camp borders and goes hunting.

He eats alone, outside and Hestia makes a fire for him. He always sacrifices some food to her.

But also to Hera, which was surprising.

"But your a son of Zeus... Does she accept offerings from you?"

"I'd hope so, I am her champion."

It takes a while for anyone to realise but Jason's chains are heavy.

In fact there are days where Jason simply can't move. Because lugging them around tires him out.

And sometimes the camps borders simply don't let him leave.

On those days some campers have hunted for him.

Jason's always suprised and thankful. He'll share and tell them not to out themselves in danger for him.

But they do so anyway.

Camp Half blood decided a long while back Jason was one of them.

He's like everyone's stressed out, tired, nerdy older brother.

Jason has no knowledge of pop culture and apparently that's a crime.

But since no tech is allowed at camp, which means a lot of reinactments of memes

He's still confused but very entertained.

They've seen him fight monsters and it's so different to how he's fought in spars.

Jason fights to survive, he doesn't have a weapon other than his own chains.

He growls, he rips monsters apart with his bare hands and teeth.

Only stopping when they've all been defeated.

It was awesome.

Tho he did almost get hit by lighting from above and had to rush back into camp.

"Can I ask, what are you being punished for?"

"Let's just say, me and my dad had a disagreement."

Zeus: He's a monster, he's nothing but trouble and a mistake.

Camp Half blood: If monster, why friend shaped?

#long post #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians

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nicknim · 5 months

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I saw someone asking for fics where branch is the kidnapped troll, and while I plan on fleshing this out, here’s just rough ideas of how it would go :)

This AU starts a few weeks after World tour. Velvet and veneer hear about Branch and see him singing with the other trolls, and made the plane of taking him to use him for his voice. When Branch is out helping assist trolltopia, he’s out in the woods gathering materials for some buildings. He's singing some tunes and stuff, maybe on old bro zone song. While he’s distracted velvet and veneer are close by and heard branch singing. It was angelic and beautiful. So when he’s not paying attention, they hit him with some local anastasia from their parents' dental clinic . And ofc later when branch is late to some meetup, people try to find him only to just straight up not. So they go to a more mystery movie and try to find branch. However it isn’t until velvet sends out the note saying branch is kidnapped, which is a month before the original timeline. JD goes to find branch himself but sees that he’s in a diamond and learns that the perfect family harmony is the only thing to break it. after John Dory finds the pop village and tells Poppy and the others about him and his brothers. So they go on a trip to find Branch and the other brothers. It’s pretty much the same but the brothers end up fighting more often bc of the stress of finding their baby brother, so poppy and I believe another troll like guy and tiny help mediate their fights. When they get to mount rageous, floyd is the one to break in with poppy and saw branch trapped in the diamond. They were happy but soon had to leave because they couldn’t free him obviously. and ofc they heard the other brothers got trapped as well . and it went the same, viva showed up. And Bridget and Gristle show up, but not on honeymoon but just to support their friends. And it goes the same and Floyd sings ‘as it was’ and they free him and he dies for a second and comes back.

or, when branch first gets to floyd, poppy isn’t with him bc something with tiny diamond being too tired. And Branch makes the decision to talk to velvet and veneer about switching with floyd. They agree after hearing him sing. So branch is now in the perfume bottle, and Floyd is let go, to find his brothers and Poppy and tiny. Fast forward to the final show, velvet and veneer are passing the spray bottle between them during the chase. And viva shows up, and it’s much more annoying trying to keep 6 trolls away from you then 3. Floyd is still too weak in this to do much but he keeps distracting velvet and veneer while others try to get the bottle. Branch’s bottle is secured on a strap attached to velvet. So when they finish the final song, branch is still stuck on the belt. Floyd would be the one to start singing. I think instead of ‘better place’ he would sing ‘as it was’ by Harry Styles. Ofc it could start as it originally sounds but then more passionate towards the end of the song. And they hit the perfect harmony and free branch and veneer admits to him and velvet being frauds. However, Floyd passed out but he didn't fade out like he does in the movie.

I like the second one a bit better, but it’s up to opinions. Hope you enjoy this rough idea, you can treat it as some suggestions. if any one makes a story and it follows most of it, pls just mention me :)

#trolls #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls brozone #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls poppy #trolls broppy

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quixoticall · 4 months

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The View Between Villages

Summary: Steve Harrington offers to be your ghostly tour guide after your mysterious, unexpected death.

AN: Hiiiii, if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been then, first of all thank you for thinking of me, and secondly, I have been sick with bronchitis for weeks. Tbh I never understood in Regency novels where they would make such a huge deal about someone being sick until now. That shit took me out. Anyway, in my convalescence I watch the show, School Spirits and I couldn’t help but see the similarities between Wally and Steve—both men of the 80s, hot labrador retriever jocks with a compulsive need for parental approval? So, that’s how this lil piece was born. I would love to continue writing in this universe so please, if you have any requests, send them in! In the meantime, I am hard at work on This Could Get Ugly and a lovely lil Eddie number inspired by another Noah Kahan song.

Warnings: School Spirit!AU, Major Character Death, talks about own death, brief mention of violence and death, angst, this is sad! Ghost!Steve and Ghost?Reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

WC: 2K

It’s Steve Harrington who first declares you dead. Admittedly it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize, it wasn’t like they sent out notices for these types of things either, as convenient as a note would’ve been:

To Whom it May Concern:

We regret to inform you that on February 12 of this year, you will unfortunately perish under unclear circumstances in the city of Chicago, Illinois at Northwestern University. Please make sure to get your affairs in order before the set date.

No, none of that, instead you had attended three whole lectures before noticing that no one was acknowledging you—not your professors when you raised your hand; not your classmates when you asked if they could loan you a pencil; not even your best friend when you ran into him in the hall. You thought it could’ve been a weird prank. Then the news began to spread, you were missing. Reported by your roommate after not having come home from a late-night study session at the library. And then they found traces of blood in the boiler room of the library’s basement.

Still, you thought to yourself, maybe you were having a really long terrible dream. Or maybe you were in a coma. Or doing one of those VR headset things. Or maybe you were dead and cursed to spend the rest of eternity haunting the very campus where you died.

Your friends were never the gym type, which is why you end up at the school’s pool in an effort to avoid the pain and desperation you feel every time you see their tired but still-hopeful faces.

That’s where you see him. Or, more importantly, where he sees you. You first spot him sitting at the edge of the pool, observing the ongoing swim team practice and are immediately struck.

Sure, you may be stuck in some weird reality where you may or may not be dead but you can still appreciate a hot person. Especially one as handsome as Pool Guy who’s striped swim trunks sit low on his hips and he has a smattering of dark hair trailing from his belly button almost up to the base of his neck. Thick, chestnut-colored hair swoops in his handsome face in golden-touched waves and gracefully frame a pair of honey-hued eyes. Of course you were going to stare.

You’re sure you stare for an indecent amount of time, but it wasn’t like that mattered, you remind yourself, you’re invisible to him like you are to everyone else.

Except you’re not invisible to him because Pool Guy was making eye contact and worse, he was waving, solidifying the fact that he is very aware of your presence. He can see you.

“Hi, you must be new here. I’m Steve Harrington, class of ‘86,” he introduces himself, with way too much verve once he swims over to where you’re still frozen in place.

“You can see me?” You ask, once you find your voice, “How can you see me?”

You reach out to grasp his offered hand and to your shock, your fingers don’t go straight through his, like it would with anyone else’s. Instead you’re enveloped in the warm solid grasp of his hand.

He cracks a smile at this, “because I’m dead too. Which, I totally get you’re probably wondering how someone this good-looking could’ve died so young but i will—“

“Dead?” you squeak out.

“Sorry,” he says with an awkward grimace, “I know not everyone likes that term, um, how do you identify—?“

You cut him off once again, “I didn’t know I was dead.”

It’s his turn to be confused.

“Really? Most people are really quick about putting it together. When they see their body the memories all come back. I mean even I put it together and I was never the smartest even before the accident—oh, shit. You’re the missing girl. The one from all the flyers.”

Clearly he’s referencing the myriad HAVE YOU SEEN ME? flyers with your face on them that paint the campus. Up until now, you had been categorically missing not dead, and now that someone has spoken your fate out loud, you’re certain it is all but sealed.

“Listen, I am so sorry. Let me go get someone who’s way better at this than I—“ you cut off his apologetic rambling,

“I need to leave right now.”

Before he can say anything else you’re running in the opposite direction as quickly as you can.

You don’t go back to the pool after that.

Being dead wasn’t so bad. Sure, you had spent a solid five weeks distraught over the loss of the life you had once lived and mourning everything you will never get to do. And yeah, it was a uniquely painful type of loneliness getting to see all your friends and never getting to interact with them, especially during those first few weeks when your disappearance was hot on everyone’s lips and heavy in the hearts of your friends. But outside of all that, being dead was okay. At least, you didn’t have to submit any more papers or do laundry.

After your encounter with Steve Harrington, class of ‘86, you decide to hole up in the library. You desperately convince yourself that if you search the shelves enough you’ll be able to find something in one of the many books that talk about the afterlife that might provide you some clarity about your newfound ghostly status. Surely there’d have to be something helpful. Anything. A ghost manual, perhaps or some graduate research paper about being stuck in between realms. You’d easily settle for a Chicken Soup for the Ghostly Soul.

Or you think traitorously to yourself, a tour guide to the afterlife, someone who has experience with being dead and a great set of abs. Every time you’re close to convincing yourself to go back to the pool, the embarrassment of your mortifying first encounter pulls you back. No way you were going to see him again. Just because you were dead didn’t mean you’d lost all your dignity.

Your internal back-and-forth ends up not mattering because he ends up coming to you.

You spot his well-coifed head maneuvering through the tall shelves from where you’ve holed yourself up on the fourth floor mezzanine and watch as he weaves through the unassuming crowd, completely unnoticed, just like you.

He’s wearing clothes this time, which both disappointing and surprising since you haven’t quite figured out the mechanics or social expectations of how often ghosts should be changing clothes. In a pair of snug-fitted jeans with a Northwestern Athletics sweatshirt and a pair of high top Nikes, he takes the winding steps up to your unofficial perch two at a time . If this is what he looks like some 40 years dead, you can’t imagine what he looked like when he had a pulse, it must have been like staring into the sun.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively when he approaches, like he’s sure you’ll run off spooked.

“Hi.”

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just, well, my friend Robin told me she saw you here and I wanted to come by and apologize for what happened. At the pool. I truly had no idea, sometimes I just say things without thinking, which I am working on, trust me.”

You smile, appreciative but defeated, part of you was hoping he was coming up here to tell you that there had been some sort of mistake.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, it was just a bit of shock, is all. I guess I’m still adjusting to this whole being dead thing,” you joke weakly.

“Yeah, about that, if you ever need help adjusting or learning the ropes or anything like that, I—we are always happy to help. There’s a few of us that band together and we’d love to have you. Truly,” he claws nervously at the back of his head as he makes his offer the tip of his sneaker digging into the worn library carpet.

“Thanks,” you say, genuinely, “I really appreciate that.”

He looks at you now, finally, and his gaze is golden, warm honey and it’s like a shot to the chest. Like you’ve promised him the moon. A hand is extended towards just slightly, a twitch, and you realize he’s expecting you to take it.

“I can’t right now, though,” you say, lamely and you watch his smile waver. Quickly you add, ”I need some time, I think, before it becomes permanent. If I go with you, I’m dead. Alone up here, I’m still just missing. Does that…make sense?”

He nods, furiously, “It makes total sense. You can come find me by the pool whenever you’re ready. I will be there.”

He makes a move to leave and you register the paper in his hand for the first time. It’s a flyer with your face on it, different than all the ones before.

“Wait, what is that?” You ask, fingers skimming the plush of his sweatshirt to get his attention.

“Oh, um,” he swallows thickly, “they’re having a vigil for you tonight, I wasn’t sure if you’d seen or if you were going, but if you were going, I was going to see if you wanted some company. “

His voice is small now and the regret is etched thickly on his face.

Fingers shaking, you extend a hand out for the flyer. Steve sighs but gently places it in your trembling grasp nonetheless.

It’s true, what he said about the vigil, you had no clue. You’re not sure how long you spend staring at your own face, long enough for the words to stop making sense, but not long enough for them to stop meaning anything.

Steve stays the entire time and when you sink to the floor, tear tracks heavy on your cheeks, he sinks with you. You cry, and he stays.

“I can’t go,” you admit, and then, in the same breath, plea, “How can I go?”

Next to you, Steve lets out a shuttering sigh.

“When I died, they did something similar, my parents came down from Indy and everything. I couldn’t bring myself to go either. But shit, maybe if I did, I would’ve gotten what I needed to move on from here. Closure or whatever. Or maybe not, who knows? But I will never know and I would hate for you to never know.”

It’s still too hard to go you decide, but you can’t pretend it’s not happening. Instead, the two of you sit on the roof of the library, feet dangling over the ledge watch a river of candlelight flowing through the center of campus. You can hear, faintly, as your friends make speeches talking about how kind you were, how good, how funny and undeserving until their voices fail from holding back tears.

You cry the whole time, but you don’t regret it.

The two of you stay sitting there far past the end, Steve’s arms wrapped around you, holding the pieces of you together.

After, when you’ve had enough of it all and the last candle has gone out, you turn to Steve and say, “thank you, that did make me feel better. You were right.”

He chuckles wryly.

“I don’t hear that I’m right very often,” he admits before cracking another smile, “but I could get used to hearing it, especially from you. Now, what do you say about getting some ice cream? No offense, but that thing was a total downer.”

You laugh, genuinely, not only at his joke, but the absurdity of it all before playfully shoving his shoulder. In response, Steve pretends to lose his balance and almost fall of the ledge and you both know it’s silly but it makes you smile so it’s worth it.

Dying is probably the worst thing that has ever happened to you, but at least you are not alone.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #Steve Harrington imagines #Steve Harrington x yn #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #school spirits!AU #ghost!steve Harrington

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jovialmoonprincess · 5 months

Text

AU: Journey to Redemption (Part 6)

In Silence, We Crumble

Coriolanus Snow x Fem!reader

First Part. / The Winter Ball / Champagne Problems / Frost and Thorns / The Storm Within / In Silence, We Crumble

Summary: Y/N, a young idealist in Panem, dreams of making a difference in a post-war society. As the winner of the prestigious Plinth Prize is about to be announced, a mysterious woman unveils a grim fate for Coriolanus Snow, Y/N's nemesis. Offered a chance to alter destiny, Y/N must navigate her conflicting emotions and intervene in pivotal moments to prevent Snow's descent into darkness. The story unfolds against the backdrop of complex relationships, past connections, and the challenges of a changing world, as Y/N grapples with the responsibility of shaping an unexpected destiny and challenging the very fabric of fate.

Warning(s): ANGST IM WARNING YOU ANGST

A/N: I'm on Wattpad now too, click here to read and vote there: WATTPAD

______________________________

Y/N was in the Snows' penthouse living room, acting as if she hadn't shared the best kiss of her life with her friend's cousin a week ago. It was already late when Tigris answered the door and faced a worried Mrs. Plinth. Coriolanus would arrive half an hour later, questioning the situation. His gaze quickly passed over Y/N, and a nod of the head was the most interaction between them that night.

The woman pleaded for Coryo to help rescue Sejanus, even though the boy hated the idea. There was a phone call, and the boy and Mrs. Plinth left hastily. Y/N followed Tigris to her room.

"It's late; I can't let you go alone," Tigris said anxiously, probably because Coryo had just left for the arena again.

"Okay, I'll stay here with you," Y/N replied. It wasn't the first time she had slept at her friend's house, so it didn't take much to convince her mother. Whether she liked it or not, it would be good to have company that night. Y/N had stopped worrying about Coryo's death before the Games. She was more concerned about those around him and what he might do. Every day, she hoped some situation would help the boy reflect on the future.

"You know, when I took care of Coryo, I never imagined he would turn out like this," Tigris said while painting her toenails.

"Authoritarian? Conceited? Arrogant?" Y/N thought.

"Like what?" Y/N asked, saving the insults for when she saw Coryo in person.

"He sometimes looks a lot like his father. And that's not a compliment."

"Maybe we all have something from our parents, right?"

"I wish he were a bit more like his mother."

"What was she like?" Y/N asked.

"She was beautiful, intelligent, kind, sweet... She looked like a princess," Tigris said, smiling nostalgically. "Maybe Lucy Gray could help bring out that part of him, huh?"

"Did I miss something?" Y/N was confused.

"Oh, the whole Capitol is talking about them, as if they were a couple's goal."

"Couple's goal?" Y/N couldn't help but give a sincere laugh. "As if she didn't have bigger things to worry about."

"Coryo said they kissed a few days ago."

THE KISS. THE VISION'S KISS. She saw the two kissing through a cell. If she knew it was going to happen, why did it make her so uncomfortable? Moreover, another vision had been confirmed. Wasn't she doing anything useful to change his fate?

"And what did he say about it?"

"He said it was good, it must have been his first kiss. If not the first, the one that makes the heart beat faster, you know?" Good? That bastard...

"I know," Y/N said without thinking.

"DO YOU KNOW? Have you ever kissed someone like that?" Tigris was excited.

"Oh no, I read a lot of romances..."

"I see... Y/N, you have a lot of secrets, and I will uncover them." Y/N threw a pillow at her friend, who quickly caught it.

The girls quickly fell asleep after gossiping about life in the Capitol. Tigris was very worried; she didn't want to sleep at all, but Y/N managed to convince her after a lot of effort. The two chatted quietly until eventually, one of them stopped responding. But a noise during the night would wake Y/N up.

She looked at the clock beside the bed; it was 02:15 AM. She looked at Tigris sleeping peacefully on the left side of the bed, which, by the way, was quite large. Y/N got up quietly not to disturb her friend. She arrived in the kitchen and didn't notice anything different. She decided to heat up the tea that Tigris had made earlier for Sejanus's mother.

She poured it slowly into the cup when she noticed a silhouette in the living room. She put her hand over her lips to avoid screaming too loud.

"Coryo! You scared me." she said quietly to a battered Coryo in front of her. He was wearing a coat that covered the clothes he had left with. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing. Sejanus is fine. I saved the day; I'm going to sleep," he replied as he moved away slowly.

"Oh no, I'm going to make tea, and you're going to tell me what happened." Coryo had a zero-friendly expression. But Y/N guided the boy to the living room sofa, as if she didn't care about his anger.

In a minute, she reappeared with a teacup and some cookies that Mrs. Plinth had brought. She sat next to him on the couch.

"Eat, they're very good. They taste like Christmas." The boy seemed too beaten down to resist.

"I killed a tribute."

Y/N didn't know what to say; her mind couldn't formulate any sentences.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't have a choice."

"I know, and it wasn't your fault. The Capitol, Dr. Gaul, they are the real culprits for all this. You're just a pawn on their chessboard." She wanted to ask about Sejanus, but she didn't want to start another fight over it.

"What was it like entering the arena?"

"Sejanus is an idiot. With that damn tradition of breadcrumbs. Pathetic. If anyone needs proof of the backwardness of the districts, this is a good one. Primitive people with primitive customs. How much bread has been wasted on that nonsense? Oh, no, he died of hunger! Bring bread! This 'friendship' with Sejanus is going to cause me a lot of problems." Coryo spoke lowly, mocking the pain Sejanus felt for Marcus. And it was at that moment that Y/N saw in Coriolanus what Tigris had mentioned earlier. The air of superiority, the resentment. Y/N felt a lump in her throat and involuntarily moved away from the boy. Something he didn't fail to notice.

Y/N remained silent, she had nothing to say. In fact, her desire was to go back to her room and cry until she fell asleep.

The atmosphere in the room became tense, impregnated by Coriolanus's revelation about the tribute he had eliminated and his cynicism about the districts. Y/N, although initially speechless, felt a mixture of anger and hurt growing inside her. The silence was broken when she finally spoke, her voice loaded with restrained emotion.

"Do you really think all the districts are like that? Primitive and backward? That people deserve to die for a tradition, like leaving breadcrumbs on the ground?" Y/N gave Coriolanus a penetrating look, her own district origin pulsating in her expression.

Coryo stared at her for a moment, as if assessing her reaction. "I'm just telling the truth. There is no progress in the districts, just outdated customs that lead nowhere."

His response ignited a flame of indignation in Y/N. "And what makes you think you're better? That your vision of progress is the only correct one? Do you think all districts are made up of pathetic and hungry people?"

Coriolanus retorted with a disdainful look. "Of course, they're not all the same, but it's undeniable that there is a general delay. I'm just being realistic."

His answer was like an open wound to Y/N, who felt the words echoing in her mind. She knew she couldn't change the Capitol's perception, but hearing it from someone she considered close was like a punch in the stomach.

"So, do you also think I'm pathetic?" she asked, her voice trembling but firm.

Coriolanus hesitated for a moment, looking into Y/N's eyes. "It's not the same. You're different."

"Different? How? Because I also have a district origin" Y/N felt a mix of sadness and frustration.

"It's not that..." Coryo began, but Y/N interrupted him.

"You know I'm not different. In the eyes of the Capitol, I'm also an insignificant girl from any district. Don't be hypocritical."

He sighed, seeming to rethink his words. "Look, that's not what I meant."

"But that's what you said." Y/N's disappointment was palpable.

"You don't understand. It's different with you."

“No, it’s not,” Y/N insisted, distancing herself further from him. "You're just in denial because you still see me as a girl from the capital. Because I don't feel hungry anymore? Because my father built an empire during the war? Or because you just like me, and you lie to yourself."

The room fell silent for a moment, only the echo of the words spoken hanging in the air. Coriolanus seemed lost in thought, while Y/N felt the need to get away from his presence.

"I just..."

"I didn't want you to get hurt by all this," Coriolanus finally said, his tone softer.

"Do you think words don't hurt?" Y/N let out an ironic laugh. "Sorry, but you know nothing about what it's like to be from a district. What it's like to live in the shadow of the Capitol. Don't try to tell me it's different with me because it's not. Our childhoods were similar, but the war in the districts was by far worse."

Coriolanus looked at the ground, realizing the depth of Y/N's words. A persistent tension lingered between them, as if the broken trust had created an irreparable abyss.

"I didn't want..." Coriolanus began, but Y/N interrupted.

"I think it's better if I leave before I say something I regret."

Y/N stood up, casting a last glance at Coryo before leaving.

"I hope Lucy Gray doesn't find out about your honest opinions on the districts. If you want to maintain a relationship with her."

The door closed behind her, leaving the boy alone in the room, engulfed in confusing emotions and growing pain. The night that began with gossip and laughter had now faded into confrontation and sadness.

_______________________

Just wanted to drop a quick note to say a massive thank you for all the love, likes and comments on my story. <3

A LOT OF ANGST TO YOU GUYS. CRY ME A RIVER.

Taglist: @shari-berri @h-l-vlovesvintage @tea-bobba @daenerysqueenofhearts @commanderfreethatdust @glxzillx @write-from-the-heart @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

TAGLIST AND REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!!

#the hunger games #tbosas #angst #angst with a happy ending #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #enemy to lovers #fem reader #president snow #tom blyth #coryo snow #lucy gray baird #tbosbas #ballad of songbirds and snakes #josh andres rivera #snow #tigris snow

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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 5 months

Note

Hi!! ヾ(˶•ᵕ•˶)੭o I hope all is well with you~

I have a question, but it's not related to MLQC. It's about the upcoming 3D Otome game!! Love and Deepspace really piqued my interest and curiosity these days, so if it's alright with you, may I ask about the personalities of the love interests there? Even just brief or what characters from MLQC kind-of resembles them?

I can already see a bit of Victor in Zayne/Li Shen (which is my type!!) and Gavin in Xavier/Shen XingHui though, but I'm not sure. ><

Thank you so much!! ⸜(˶ ˃ ᵕ ˂ ˶)⸝♡

hello ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ well... things are pretty hectic still, but i’m fighting through. hope everything is well with you too~

sorry for the late reply, but i wanted to compare the changes in writing in the ongoing (3rd) CBT before making assessments. and tbh, the writing is still very much under development.

they have already made several changes in the main story plot, the interactions between the heroine/ you and the love interests (majorly with Li Shen as there were severe complaints regarding unstable writing + medically wrong terms after the prev. beta). and after the feedbacks from this beta, i’m sure there will be further optimizations until the official release, so it’s still pretty early to comment on the love interests’ personalities. but if you want me to analogize the current impressions to the lovepro characters, yes, you’re right on the money haha.

Li Shen does share the same strict and stern on the outside but a big bowl of marshmallow on the inside personality as Victor + the extensive use of idioms in the sentences, the either firm or gentle hold on your hand he always has are sure to remind you of a certain someone haha. Li Shen and the heroine have a childhood connection too.

as for Shen XingHui, similar to Gavin, assumption is he’d be a knight character. he is very sweet and happy-go-lucky, but there’s a calmness to him too. might be a little too bland for some people at first, but there’s potential, plus his identity itself makes him super important to the plot, so, hold on haha.

Qi Yu is kind of like a mystery to me still. yes he gives off that enormous bratty energy, but there’s also a quiet side to him (kind of a given since he’s an artist by profession). he’s more like a blend of Kiro and Shaw?? tho it currently feels like the writers aren’t really sure about how to balance his character, whether to build him around the quiet side or to focus on the young energy. b/c while it’s not impossible for them to coexist, too much of one trait could totally strike out the other and seem delusional.

anyway, final words, my recommendation would be to keep an open mind. while these characters do share traits with the characters of their parent game, they are unique characters of their own, embracing their own characteristics and stories. and the writing approach is still subject to change, so~ ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

—

#love and deepspace #zayne #xavier #rafayel #li shen #shen xinghui #qi yu #恋与深空

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soobberries · 10 months

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Dilf!Seonghwa pt 2.

Author's Note: Mayhaps I'm tempted to make this a proper fic series and rewrite it... But for now, it's going to be a 'deconstructed fanfiction' as I call it. Let me know if you want a part 3! Feedback is always appreciated too!

Also, this hasn't been properly proofread :p

Warning: Despite this technically being based on a legal reader, since there is a somewhat large age gap - thought I would clarify:

Please be aware that I do not condone any type of relationships between minors and adults, nor do I encourage the idea of being a homewrecker. This is all just fiction! So without further ado, let’s get started!

Genre: Doesn’t exactly have one but has elements of crack and is suggestive.

Age: This is written for a somewhat mature audience so please, no under 16s. Stay safe younglings <3

Word Count: 3.9k

Part one: click here!

Yeah booooiiiiiz, let’s go!

After the first encounter at the fundraiser, which by the way, was ruined by some PTA moms gossiping outside the bathroom door (which caused you and Mr. Park to get the shock of your lives. Fumbling around the enclosed space in slight panic with the sudden reality check of where you two were).

It ended in him having covered your exposed self with his blazer, insisting you can keep it, secretly in hopes that it would be an excuse to somehow see you again.

Despite it being painfully awkward (read: unlawful), you were far too intrigued by Mr. Park to let that be your last encounter as well.

I mean who can blame you? It was a day that definitely took you for a ride (and perhaps not the exact one you would prefer but who knows, maybe it'll lead to the ideal one 🤪).

jk jk… Unless-

Sometimes you even question if it was a fever dream or something but… you knew it wasn't-

… the blazer stared you down a lot. It definitely was real.

So you maaaay have decided against your better judgment to look after Nila a whole lot more these days, just in the rare case you may bump into him :D

You’ve been pretty unlucky though.

You’ve become used to seeing Yerim running towards you with Nila to give you hugs though… which honestly? A very wholesome experience so you can't complain.

Yerim loved you now since Nila was her best friend and if you were taking Yerim back to Nila’s house or they were going to hang out, you’d take them out for ice cream secretly without their parents knowing (which made it even more exciting for them).

Listen, part of you knew that maybe all this was stupid, and the chances of seeing him were slim, but it wasn’t all too bad and you didn’t have anything to lose.

These two kids were basically like your own but without the burden and responsibility of being an actual parent, and you were making some decent cash over the summer (plus your mom was pleased with how much you were helping her co-worker since it helped their relationship too.)

Which was great honestly. You grew to like the two munchkins since they weren’t bad or rude. They were both a little chaotic and loud at times, but overall, just really sweet, happy kids. You couldn’t help but cherish them.

So even without seeing the handsome devil himself, you felt satisfied with your looney decision as it came with other benefits.

It wasn’t until one particular day after the girls had some late afternoon sports practice that you ended up finally seeing the man that's been plaguing your thoughts for the past while.

Of course, you were excited to see that he was indeed, not a figment of your imagination anymore, however, you weren't as happy as you thought you'd be.

In fact, you were pretty angry when you did end up seeing him…

You had good reason to be though.

After their practice, Nila asked if you and her could wait with Yerim until her mom came to fetch her so she wouldn’t be alone...and yes perhaps some undying curiosity about who the mysterious ‘Mrs Park’ actually was, was urging you to stay…

But you did also care for the two girls so it was a no-brainer when you ultimately sat down with them outside at one of the nearby benches, not really bothered.

…

Uhhhh… nevermind?

It’s been about an hour and both girls were getting restless, as well as yourself.

Where was Mrs Park, or at the very least, the driver she often sent to fetch Yerim instead?

You offered your phone to Yerim, and she was polite and thankful at the gesture, however, after dialing the number she knew off by heart twice, her mother didn’t answer, so she phoned the only other number she knew: her dad.

Seonghwa’s coupe rolled up about thirty minutes after the call, and if it weren’t for the circumstance, you’d be eyeing down his expensive car more carefully.

“Daddy!” Yerim shouted, running towards him with her arms open, only relief and excitement in her voice.

He leaned down waiting for her hug before embracing her into his arms.

“Hey sweetheart! Sorry, I made you wait, love. Why don’t you go put your stuff in the car while Daddy speaks to Y/n?”

(score, he remembers your name. Yerim must mention you at home sometimes).

The girl nodded, running towards you to give you a hug as a thank you before running off to the car with her things, Nila assisting in carrying her lunchbox and maths book to the car as well.

You stood arms crossed and all, staring him down expectantly.

Seonghwa gulped at how scary the aura you were exuding appeared to be.

“Nice to see you again,” is all he could get out with a small smile; meekly, at that.

Your knees were weak at the sight of his smile but your head was still strong.

“You made your kid wait two hours, you know that? They close facilities in fifteen minutes. How could you let her wait so long?” You spoke calmly, but Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed despite the gentle voice.

It felt like you were aggressively scolding him, despite you actually being more reasonable than perhaps the situation granted.

His chest tightened; he knew it was because he hated seeing you even slightly upset, he just wasn’t exactly sure why.

It just gave him an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if he feared something…

“Her mom was supposed to come and she didn’t. Apparently, she had work and forgot to tell me…” He uttered while gazing at the floor and clasping his hands awkwardly in front of him.

It was the first time Seonghwa didn’t have this confident flair that was always present, even if it was just in his walk.

He genuinely looked upset with himself and it made your heart drop a little, realizing that it’s not really your place to speak about what you did. You were just some girl, You crossed the line…

But it obviously wasn’t purposeful and granted, something had to be said. Being left at school by your parents can sometimes be the worst feeling after a long school day, and you know Yerim has mentioned waiting at school for a long while more than once.

“Hey,” You reached over towards him, placing your hands atop his shoulders.

“It wasn’t your fault. You were busy right?”

Seonghwa, with a spark in his eye, looked towards you, hesitantly nodding.

He had a small pout displayed and for a second you couldn’t help but wonder how the hell this handsome, adult man could look so cute.

No wait, be serious here!

“It just shouldn’t become a habit. I saw how sad Yerim looked when her mom didn’t pick up the phone, but she said she’s used to it...I, I know it’s not my place, but I just worry for her. Sorry for overstepping.”

You let out a sigh looking away, before retracting your hands, wanting to give him some personal space.

But you couldn’t because when you pulled away he grabbed your forearms pulling you to your previous spot which was closer to him.

He trailed his hands gently down your arms, grasping your hands in his own.

“It’s okay. You’re right. I just, really didn’t know,” He said tenderly.

His voice is only loud enough to reach your ears, and your ears alone.

“If you ever need me to urgently help out with Yerim, I don’t mind…” You said, trying to ignore the close proximity between the two of you and the very much intentional hand-holding.

Everything felt still and peaceful,

Perhaps it was due to the school being mainly empty and the sky getting darker but for a moment things stopped for a second, it was just you two in each other’s company while silence encompassed the two of you.

“It’s nice having someone like you care so much for her...and me as well. I’ll keep that in mind.” he gave your hands a soft squeeze.

Ignoring the heat rising to your face, you sent him a bashful smile.

"Uhh, you should get going…" You said uncertainly, trying to be responsible, but you knew deep down that you didn't want to let go of him just yet.

"You're right… Before I leave, can I have your number? For emergencies, like you said." He uttered out, letting go of your hands to reach for his phone, causing you to realize how warm his hands were keeping yours.

“I actually still need to return your blazer…” you mumbled mindlessly, as you took his phone, typing away.

He chuckled, placing his hand on the back of his neck, “Right, I almost forgot! Seems I remembered everything else about you that day except that,” he said, only to somewhat regret his ambiguous words after they came out of his mouth.

You nodded, unsure exactly what he entailed, but you had a good idea of what he may have been referring to.

You awkwardly exchanged numbers with him before you both parted ways.

This was a bad idea…Offering up your services just like that… Especially since it’s not null of selfish intentions.

But, for now, if no one is getting harmed, then, whatever.

You’ll handle what comes when you get there if you get there.

So lil time skip of about two weeks and you’re chilling, procrastinating the cleanup that you should be doing this Friday afternoon when you get a notification— Seonghwa’s name appearing on screen.

Hey, I know this is a bit sudden, but it’s the end of our business quarter and I have to stay late. Yerim will be all alone at home and no one will be there until 11pm. I’m sorry to ask this of you, but would you be willing to look after her? I promise I’ll compensate you generously.

Are you really about to look after this dude’s kid because you think he’s hot when you could rather be hanging out with friends or watching movies (or actually cleaning)?

Yeah. deal with it.

Of course! I don’t mind at all. Is there anything particular I should know (like should I bring her dinner or-)? And I hope we can discuss the compensation when you arrive home :)

Oh man… your mind really shouldn’t be jumping the gun here but it’s like, really really hard to not think about this scenario playing out…

What scenario?

Him compensating for this through physical means instead-

Iykyk.

He lets you know that there are some leftovers in the fridge that you can heat up for Yerim and sends you his address.

On your way there you can’t help but wonder why his wife isn’t there or a caretaker for Yerim. Is she also working late or are they not staying with each other..? It’s none of your business but of course, you were curious.

The whole situation just seemed weird to you so perhaps you’d see if you can figure something out from Yerim.

Upon arriving, your jaw dropped at how fancy the place was. Like yeah, he seemed like he had a decent job but to be raking in this much money? Damn…

There was a glass staircase, floors made of marble, and art pieces that you knew only wealthy people have the privilege of buying, and let’s not forget the fancy security system, that Seonghwa so graciously gave you the password to.

You laid your things down, calling out to Yerim before she shouts that she was coming.

You see her scurry down the stairs, running towards you to give you a hug. You pick her up, amused by her excitement.

“Y/n! Are you looking after me?” She asks with bright eyes and you give her a nod to which she smiles, elated.

“But your dad gave me some rules to follow and I don’t want to get in trouble. I’m sure you don’t either, right?”

She eagerly nodded, seeming to have a war flashback to when her dad got mad at her.

“Then let’s be good, alright?” You chuckled at her reaction.

You set her down, and after exploring the house nonchalantly, you played with her a bit before letting her go do her own thing in her room.

While silence filled the floor you were on, the various things lying around in the house piqued your interest.

You walked up to a small desk that had very few minimalistic ornaments and three frames, as well as some flowers that seemed to have started withering.

Upon further inspection, you realized that in the frame were Yerim, Seonghwa, and the infamous Mrs. Park. You couldn’t help but scoff at how pretty she was. Bright, bold eyes, thick heart-shaped lips, a small nose, a long neck giving her an elegant appearance, dark raven hair, and a nice figure to top it all off.

You’d be lying if you said Seonghwa and her didn’t look beautiful together.

In fact, they must’ve been the talk of their neighborhood with how well they visually complemented each other. People likely gushing over what a pretty couple they make.

You placed the frame down, picking up the vase of flowers, wanting to change the browning water.

You didn’t understand why, but you felt a bit bitter while staring at the photos.

Maybe it was because of your obvious attraction to Seonghwa or maybe it was because through small anecdotes you’ve figured out that she’s seemingly neglectful to her family.

Either way, despite her being beautiful, it irked you to stay staring at the sweet family photos.

You walked away busying yourself with the vase, thinking of how interesting it is…

They look like the perfect family in those photos, happy as ever…Meanwhile, Seonghwa has revealed to you how stressed and strained his relationship was, and you’ve witnessed Yerim look dejected whenever her mom or sometimes even her father failed to show up to school events.

When placing the flowers back in their original place, you shook your head, trying to get your thoughts in order as you made your way elsewhere in the house.

You sunk into the couch like a melting slug, wondering if this was a good idea.

‘This’ as in you taking time to somehow be involved in his life, even if it’s indirect.

It’s harmless now; you’re just some young person crushing on Seonghwa and using opportunities to see him…

The problem comes if he tempts you to throw away your self-control or even vice versa (since you know you don’t do too much thinking when around Seonghwa), and if things start escalating…

With a heavy sigh leaving your mouth, you decide that as long as you don’t overstep your boundaries, you should be fine…Right?

It isn’t long before you heat up those leftovers for Yerim and make a little plate of something for yourself.

You help her get ready for bed, as it starts getting later. You try to make it entertaining and fun for her since she seemed to be a little hesitant to sleep until her dad came home.

Through what Yerim said, it seemed like her mom hasn’t been home for the past few days.

Tucking her in bed, after reading a short story book you found lying around on the bookshelf in her room, you sat there listening as she told you about her favorite character from that book.

You chuckled at the absurd reasons she gave as to why that character was her favorite, such as the fact that they liked cereal bars and she liked them too even though some people in her class would tease her because they hated them.

While pulling the duvet up to her head as she dosed off after rambling, you gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. You stood up switching off the lights before stopping in your tracks as she called your name.

“Y/n..?”

You turned around waiting for her to continue,

“Can you come over more often?”

You couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the request.

“Hmm? Why?”

“Well, you tuck me in and it’s fun when you’re around…Plus Daddy smiles whenever I talk about you so I think he likes you.”

Does she not normally get tucked in? Does Seonghwa talk about me with her a lot?

You gave her a soft smile, “Goodnight Yerim.”

You headed downstairs, cleaning up the place a bit and doing the dishes before settling on the couch, watching whatever show was on as you waited for Seonghwa.

It was twenty minutes in when you realized looking after kids is no joke, even when they aren’t causing trouble. You were totally ready to have a nice rest after this.

You were fighting your sleep when 11:30pm hit but thankfully It wasn’t long until you heard the front door open, followed by the sound of business shoes hitting the marble.

You stretched your arms and legs, standing up and switching the TV off, turning around to look towards the hallway entrance,

“Welcome home!” You sang out to Seonghwa, who was startled at the greeting.

His tired eyes lit up at the sight of you and he let out a breathy chuckle, as he took off his coat, hanging it on the hooks near the front.

He was wearing a white dress shirt with a patterned tie and black slacks, and damn, did he look fucking hot.

You were a little embarrassed that it didn’t take much for you to get flustered and worked up but his appearance was rather stunning for someone who spent the whole day at work.

He ruffled his hair a bit, and loosened his tie, walking over towards you with a genuine smile.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard someone welcome me home,” he uttered, popping a few more buttons open, and folding up his sleeves, revealing his toned arms that you vaguely remember, “normally Yerim is either asleep when I get home, or otherwise I fetched her from school and we both came home together…” He trails off to which you nod, shyly petting your hair down, suddenly a little more conscious of your own appearance.

He comes to a stop in front of you, tilting his head, looking at you tenderly.

“It’s nice hearing it, especially so sincerely…”

You open your mouth to say something, only to close it, not fully sure how to respond. You look down to the floor, fumbling over what to say. Normally you’d be a lot quicker, but of course, it seems nothing really is normal when it comes to your behavior around Mr. Park.

He didn’t think much, before reaching out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, cradling your cheek in his palm just after. You felt your breath hitch, realizing that even if you tried to speak, you’d choke on your own words.

WHAT WAS HE DOING RN??? HELLO SIR???

He brushed his thumb against your cheek, and you were honestly, just stumped.

You didn’t know what was going on but you dreamt of this touch for far too long to slap him away like you probably should have.

“Sorry, you had some type of fluff on your cheek,” he uttered, removing his hand which you had to stop yourself from chasing.

Really..? Fluff?

You couldn’t tell if he was serious or just using an excuse…

You knew you liked him and further, you knew the attraction was mutual, but for some reason, it still all felt a bit surreal.

“Was everything okay here? Did Yerim cause you any trouble?” He said gently, his voice low.

“No, not at all! The worst thing she did was tire me out a little bit, but nothing I’m not capable of managing,” you let out an airy chuckle, opting to bite your lip just after feeling slightly awkward.

He made you nervous in a good way, but also in a way you didn’t know how to handle.

“Oh? It’s a shame. I was hoping I’d be the one responsible for tiring you out tonight,” He chuckled before immediately dying down as he processed what he just said and openly insinuated.

You almost choked, but swallowed the lump in your throat down instead.

Did he just-

What in the Wattpad was going on?

Not that you minded, I mean the delusional self in you was jumping at this.

Even so, outwardly you had no idea how to respond, feeling overwhelmed enough to just laugh nervously, and beyond your better judgment say this:

“We haven’t exactly discussed my compensation yet, Mr. Park.”

Oh fuck.

Oh.

Fuck.

You said that. YOU REALLY SAID THAT???

Panic.

He scoffs, looking away and you catch a glimpse of his reddening ears.

“You’re driving me mad” he utters under his breath, seemingly to himself, but you could obviously hear his words...

“Why the sudden formalities? ‘Mr. Park’? Y/n, surely you know by now…” His voice was low and his actions bold as he placed his hand against your waist, leaning over so that his lips were brushing against your ear.

It was giving you flashbacks of when you first met and your heart raced once again at the proximity.

“I like it when you call me by my name.”

He was firm in what he said, and his voice sounded different from anything you’ve heard before.

It took everything in you to keep standing, your legs threatening to cave in.

You placed your hands against his shoulders, both yours and his touch rather chaste considering the connotation of your words.

“Is that so? Maybe I need a reason to do that in the first place…” You uttered out, breath shaky and mind foggy.

You were hoping he understood what you meant by that, your dazed state not even concerned for any rationality.

He tightened his grip against your waist, letting his head drop against your neck as he chuckled.

“I don’t know what to do with you, Y/n,” he said, now with a lighter tone laced with uncertainty.

It was a small call to reality, but he wasn’t making any action to let you go.

In fact, he only wrapped his other arm around you, pulling his head away to look at you, rather intensely at that-

You felt a little doubtful under his gaze.

You could see a swirl of emotions in his eyes and he no doubt was feeling similar to you, but there was moral conflict tearing you both away from your desires.

“Sorry-” you whispered out, unable to come up with something better, only to be cut off.

“I do know, however— that I want you.”

Your breath hitched and you subconsciously slid your hands higher, wrapping them around his neck, hinting to him that the feelings are mutual.

He wanted to hear it said from you directly though. Not willing to take a chance at this moment, he pulled you closer.

“So tell me…” He trailed, eyeing your expression carefully as he brought one hand to cradle your face just as before, “What do you want?”

Oh, fuck this. Consequences can wait.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his.

“This,”

You closed the gap between you two, finally able to feel his lips against yours.

#〘manga; writing✎ᝰ〙#ateez #ateez seonghwa #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez drabbles #ateez reactions #AYOOOOOOOOO

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magnorious · 3 months

Text

Review: ‘We Take a Zebra to Vegas’, Percy Jackson Episode 6

***Spoilers Ahead for all books and show. TL;DR at the bottom***

After episode 5 I was starting to wonder if episode 3 was a fluke. Here we have the potential for the only non-book reference I wanted in the entire show: Would Nico cameo in the Lotus Casino?

Small, I know, but book fans were robbed of ever seeing him on screen once already when Titan’s Curse was never adapted and with his massive popularity, I was almost certain he’d be here. The closer we got to the Lotus Casino, however, the more I wanted to be wrong. Almost none of the characters look like they’re supposed to, many of them with inconsistent personalities to match. I went from hoping for a blink-and-you’ll miss it reference with a little scruffy 10-year-old that book fans would be able to tell is Nico by his appearance alone to hoping they’d not touch the matter with a 10-foot pole.

After the absurdly dramatic and angsty episode 5 that was supposed to be semi-dangerous and funny, there was a chance to have both the whimsy and wonder of the Lotus Casino, and the rather chilling escape. Before that, the conversation about conservation in the back of the zoo trafficking truck. There was a lot of opportunity for more quiet character moments as well as the adventure and absolutely no need for more nonsense filler.

Onto the episode and given that Hermes is in the thumbnail, are we all in agreement that he only exists here because he’s played by Lin Manuel Miranda? That’s the reason, right? He barely exists in the first book otherwise.

We start right off the bat with more interesting changes. Instead of IM-ing Luke in some random car wash, they do so in the zoo truck. The scene in the book was funnier, because it existed in the place that it did to be funny and the pay-to-pump water gave a clear time limit. But more importantly – they decided to scapegoat Clarisse… for reasons.

Why? Just why? In the book they spend 99% of their quest accusing the wrong person, Hades, and don’t realize they’re wrong until it’s too late. Everyone in the book was like “it’s Hades, it’s gotta be, his kids were Nazis” (a detail I still can’t believe exists, wow). Chiron said it was Hades, everyone said it was Hades, based on ancient biases that Hades spends the entire series proving wrong. He is the best godly parent by a country mile by the end of Book 5 and all of that groundwork started here, when Hades was just as much a victim of the Master Bolt nonsense as everyone else.

Clarisse is neither here nor there, because the writers didn’t have the foresight to script or film any scenes at camp of this random arrest that’s supposed to be important now. The jump cut from ‘the animals have a plan’ to them stopping traffic on the Vegas strip was funny, but it robbed the scene of the seriousness it should have had. More powers Percy doesn’t get: His ability to talk to horses and horse-adjacent animals.

Once they make it to the Lotus Casino, the script does this incredibly irritating thing where it removes the tension of the unknown from every hurdle they meet. Percy’s trapped alone against a mysterious monster in the book and has no idea how to beat it? Nope, Annabeth exposits all over it. They enter a seemingly-abandoned, mortal waterpark and only get suspicious once it’s too late? Nope, Annabeth figures out immediately that it’s a godly amusement park and they must be careful. Two twelve year olds and a satyr are immediately charmed by the glitz and glam of the lotus casino and get trapped for almost the rest of their time limit for the quest? Nope, Grover exposits all over that, too, ruining the mystery and any danger or threat.

Why?

The show also does the irritating thing where it creates problems just to solve them later and before you go “that’s the point of conflict” I mean it creates meaningless problems through meaningless contrivances, like every horror movie cliche that forces its characters to make illogical choices so they don’t just run away from the horror.

And another irritating thing! Spoiling bigger mysteries before their time: We didn’t learn about May Castellan until book 5. Why is this here? What purpose does this serve? Percy realizing he didn’t even know Luke’s last name for five whole years meant something to him. Seeing Luke’s tragic, mortal mother, after hating him for five years *means something* to Percy and to the readers. The gods damned Lotus Casino was absolutely not the place to discover any of this. Why did they do this?

Also, who tf is Augustus? He’s fine. Grover’s random side quest is fine. Every consecutive episode leaves me more and more annoyed with him, but it’s *fine*.

They do actually forget their purpose in the casino, thank the gods. Or, Grover does. Annabeth continues to give away May Castellan exposition like Halloween candy, smack-talking Hermes in a way that she’d never dare at 12 years old. Hermes is still only here because he’s played by Mr. Miranda. He’s fine, he’s just not Hermes. His “woe is me, loving mortals is so damn hard” speech exists. The sentiment is four books early, but it exists.

I understand why it’s here. They’re trying desperately to capture Percy’s internal conflict over whether or not the gods and his dad care about him, if he should let himself be disappointed presuming that they don’t. Problem is– in the book, Poseidon didn’t send a naiad to give him false promises of a clandestine meeting. In the book, the naiad told Percy there’d be a vague “gift” in Santa Monica, and Percy was never naive enough to think that gift would be his dad.

The entire season so far has tried to give nuance to both sides of the “do the gods care and should they be expected to” argument and it’s just not a very well written attempt. Why? Because it had five entire books to give both sides, and they’re shoving as much of it as they can here like they’re afraid they won’t get renewed for season 2. In doing so, they’ve made a tonal mess.

Once Hermes is gone and done randomly and spitefully sabotaging their quest, Percy, unseen, figures out that they’ve lost time and lost Grover. Also, Annabeth pick-pocketed the God of Thieves? Funny, but no. The script has its weird Mitichlorian moment sciencing lore by adding in the detail that lotus nectar or whatever is pumped in through the air, a question no one had and a plot hole that didn’t exist.

They do manage to keep the fear and unsettling realization that they’ve lost time, but their amnesia is inconsistent and confusing, considering that they overexplained how the casino works. Then they’re gone using a God of Thieves’ Car gimmick.

No Nico, thank the gods, unless he was one of the VR kids in the background. It would have been wonderful to see him in a better script.

In the book, they get instantly dazzled by the food, the video games, the nice clothes, nice suite, all things Percy could never dream about growing up poor. There is no Hermes and he only figures out something’s wrong when he meets other kids displaced from time and has to shake Annabeth and Grover from the illusion. They use their casino cash cards with infinite money to hail a cab all the way to LA and it’s funny.

They create more problems that didn’t need to exist by forcing Percy to drive a taxi and okay, that was genuinely funny. I am shocked, though, that Annabeth’s pride let him drive.

The episode comes to an end with them supposedly by the Santa Monica Pier… in a thunderstorm. In southern California. Odd choice, but okay. I'd say the storm exists because Poseidon's pissed but I really think it's there beacuse "dark and stormy night" fit their new vibe better than bright sunlight.

Maybe in live action it was tricky trying to make him both dry underwater and still plausibly underwater and not just rotoscoped in with a hazy green filter. For all their love of exposition, they never actually told non-book watchers about that, or that he can breathe underwater and control some currents. It’s also supposed to be night time, and yet he’s lit as if it’s high noon far above on the surface – they could have just written the beach scene at noon.

Then the naiad he was supposed to talk to in St Louis drops the bomb that the Summer Solstice deadline already passed, Poseidon got too impatient to wait for Percy after the casino delay, and the gods are now at war.

What the fu…..?

Percy resolves to keep going despite armageddon already happening apparently. She gives him exactly the right amount of pearls that he needs, not three, which would force him to choose, and then cut to black.

—

How is the best part of this episode Annabeth’s completely deadpan and exasperated Dude when Percy asks her not to make fun of him? That, and Percy driving the taxi.

Once again, to all the set designers and VFX artists and costumes and makeup and foley and music and score and everyone in between – you’re amazing, keep up the great work. To the actors, you were given a bad script and bad direction and you did the best you could.

Having just come off watching Game of Thrones for the first time and seeing little Arya, Bran, and Rickon Stark’s actors doing donuts around these three just goes to show that it’s not that child actors’ lack of experience that’s the problem. Heck even Baby Percy is better than these three. It’s how much or how little help they get in conveying what they’re supposed to. These kids were thrown to the wolves.

I don’t watch the teasers and I stay away from all marketing for the show. I don’t know who’s been cast to play any characters we haven’t already seen so what Hades and Poseidon look like are a complete mystery that I do hope pays off.

With two episodes to go they have the following left from the book to adapt: Crusty’s water beds, the DOA studios, the entire trip to the underworld and Cerberus and Hades that took two hefty chapters, the Ares fight, Percy’s trip to Olympus, Luke's betrayal and reveal, and the return home to find Hades had paid his debt.

Suddenly the mini series with an episode to burn in St Louis has to sprint to the finish line.

Maybe if they hadn’t spent ten minutes expositing with Hermes they could have at least crammed in Crusty and the DOA, but it looks like armageddon is already upon us so who knows? They might’ve just tossed out the rest of the book to write their own ending.

TL;DR This show is a mess and this episode actually has me nostalgic for the brevity of the horrible movie because they didn’t even try and it’s fun to make fun of. This is just disappointment stretched out across seven hours instead of speedrun in 90 minutes. The skeleton of the book (mostly) remains intact and to all those who keep saying “at least it’s not the movie,” you’re right. Enjoy.

#pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #review #pjo

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starpirateee · 1 month

Text

Strange magic

@holloweaneweek day 4 - Worship

Warnings: none / read on AO3 here

Over time, Miss Holloway got used to the varied stream of regulars that came through the doors of Miss Retro’s. She made sure to keep an eye on everyone who came in on a near regular basis, whether that be the group of students that came in separately but always left together, the parents that appeared sporadically after the school run…

Or that one writer.

He was a relatively quiet bloke, hardly ever spoke, and he almost always took a lonely corner in one of the booths. No matter what he chose to do, whether he brought his beat up pair of headphones or not, he was always trying to write something. His equipment included a notebook that changed every month or so, and a pen that maybe changed twice as often. Neither were very expensive, in fact his pens were always black or blue ballpoints that looked like they’d come from a five dollar multipack.

Holloway knew very little about this mysterious patron of her diner, but he intrigued her more than anyone. Mainly because he kept losing track of time and staying until long after everyone else had left.

Tonight was no exception.

She returned from washing the remainder of the dishes and emerged from the kitchen, ready to lock up. Much to her surprise, she returned to the sound of a pen scratching against paper, and glanced across the diner floor to be met by the writer. He was leaning over the notebook, headphones over his ears, and not even close to paying attention to the world.

The late evening glow was illuminating him in such a way that really complimented him, she thought. His dark hair was slick back, and her neon lights really made it sparkle. His expression was set and focused, and was perfectly reflected in the window he was leaning against.

“Hey, uh… Excuse me, sir?”

He looked up, registering her presence at the counter, and was immediately struck with the general lack of atmosphere around him. He removed a headphone, and stood up immediately. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Miss-” He muttered hurriedly, gathering his things as he rose from his seat.

“Oh no, I don’t mind! Just how lost in your own world were you?” She chuckled.

“I’ve been sitting here for- holy… Three hours, and I’ve pretty much been going strong since then… Again, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to keep ya…” He started to walk out, but her voice drew him back before he could reach the door.

“Wait! You’re gonna stay this long, and you won’t even give me your name?”

He stopped in his tracks and turned, shooting her an amused glance. “My name, huh? Do I get the same pleasure?”

“You could, if that’s what you wanted… You’re a pretty interesting guy, and the least I can hope for is a bit of conversation outta you next time you come in, huh?”

The smile playing at her lips made him smile too, and he nodded. “Alright, consider it a deal. Name’s Douglas, but most people call me Duke.” He walked back over to the counter and reached out a hand, something she took him up on immediately.

“Holloway. It’s a real pleasure.”

He returned at the end of the week, and elected to sit counterside on one of the brightly coloured barstools. Holloway got a good look at his notebook this time, and noticed that it was thick with loose sheets that he’d clearly scribbled various notes and passages across. They were spread across all of the pages, separating them into various sized clumps of what were presumably works of their own.

When she wasn’t seeing to the other customers and dealing with a kitchen that she was managing to keep from setting on fire, she was talking to Duke. Her first port of call was making a point about how much he wrote; hopefully she’d be able to take that in some kind of direction where he’d tell her more about what was going on inside those pages.

“Yeah, basically every opportunity I have, I’m out here tryna make something work… It’s the first big project I’ve had going in a while, and I might’ve gotten myself a little over-hyped for it, but I dunno, it’s pretty cool to me..” he shrugged.

“What’s the project?” She leaned forwards against the counter, close enough to notice that some of the loose sheets had been stapled, taped and sometimes glued to the main body of the notebook. Now, it looked less like loose notes and more like a case file, with evidence gathered from a whole collection of sources all over the place. It really looked like he was trying to build something here.

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to take any genuine interest in what he was doing. Absently tapping the pen against the page he was currently working on, he tried to figure out what exactly to tell her that would make her just as intrigued as when she’d asked. “So far, it’s a mess,” he played off with a chuckle, reminding himself that none of those notes were in order and hadn’t yet formed anything of a coherent story. “But, I’m looking to make it some kinda fantasy, where a woman with a crazy secret comes into the world’s most ordinary town, and has to try and keep the residents from finding her out? Something like that, anyway. I’ve not written a single thing in order yet, and it's been spread over three notebooks…”

That sounded an awful lot like…

Holloway briefly faltered, reminding herself that she didn’t come into Hatchetfield because it was the world’s most normal town. Far from, in fact. She’d come into Hatchetfield because she’d never seen a town where more weird things happened on a daily basis, and she’d managed to convince herself that she’d fit right in. So far, she’d been absolutely right. So far, nobody had even noticed.

Though, she couldn’t recall telling Duke her life story, and even if she had, then he wouldn’t be privy to remembering it at all…

A curious smile crossed her face; she was desperate to keep up the act that she hadn’t been surprised at his synopsis. “My, Duke, where do you get your inspiration from?”

“Funnily enough, I got that one from coming in here… There’s something about this place, and as soon as I sat down a couple months ago, I just knew that was what I had to do… It’s strange, I’d been struggling with inspiration for such a long time, it’s such a coincidence that I found it here…”

“Or magic,” she suggested with a raised eyebrow.

He laughed. Her shoulders sank a little, flooded with relief. “Or magic,” he echoed, and then laughed again. “Y’know what, yeah… Maybe it is magic.”

“You really got a full idea just from coming in here? My coffee’s not that good, and I promise, I’ve never laced it with anything magical-” well… Not entirely. She had tried her luck by charming the place in a certain way, but that didn’t work for her, completely disregarding what anyone else would think of it. Though, the coffee machine had never broken, and did always seem to make the coffee in just the right way…

“I swear it, the whole thing comes to me in pieces every time I sit down in here…” Duke’s tone was bewildered, he’d never really understood it for himself, but it was one of the many things that kept him coming back as often as he did. It wasn’t easy for him to write everywhere, but when it wasn’t the desk in his office, white he was trying to avoid the slowly growing pile of reports sitting at his side, then it was in her diner. And one of those places didn’t have people on the other side of the line telling him to pick up the pace on the files.

She offered him a smile. “Looks like you’ve really found your muse.”

Muse.

He thought about that even as he headed home and actually cracked on with work from his actual job. So far, he’d gotten as far as understanding what a muse was, and even then he wasn’t quite sure. Nine sisters from the old myths, that helped inspire artists and scientists alike by giving them inspiration.

In a way, that was exactly what happened. He didn’t know whether it was the energy in the diner, or it’s lovely, charming, beautiful hostess…

Who was he kidding? From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d become infatuated. People around town always said that about Miss Retro, but he’d never thought it could be quite so true. It was always something along the lines of “She makes it hard not to be in love with her…” and “I’d envy the lucky guy that finally gets to Miss Retro’s heart,” and Duke was finally starting to see why. The charm she laid on in every conversation, the genuine interest she showed in the world itself and the lives of everyone else, it was admirable. He did understand what everyone was talking about.

Was she his muse?

The source of his inspiration, the reason he was up and writing again after so long being out of it. Hell, the reason he was feeling better in himself than he had in years. All of it was down to her, come to think about it.

Thinking about her like that got him through the case files he promised he’d write up three days ago, and it took him far less time than he normally would, too. He was half expecting to fall asleep over his coffee table as he so often did, the cat piled comfortably on top of his reports. But, he had the whole workload cleared and back in his bag before midnight even hit.

He decided to put this theory and her little joke to the test. The next day, he was out around town. There were two rather pressing calls that he had to make, and while he was waiting in the time between them, he tried to lean against the steering wheel of his old pickup and draw a little inspiration from something that wasn’t Holloway. He thought about the next place he had to go; the trailer park bordering the Witchwood. That place had always seemed a little creepy to him, even if he’d never actually gone into the forest to try and dispel those feelings. But, Hannah Foster never failed to make the day more interesting, even if the case wasn’t specifically about her in herself.

He hummed to the music crackling from the radio. God, he still needed to replace that thing, it was really getting on… Maybe keep the CD drive, though, the collection in the glove department would suffer otherwise. How much was a replacement radio for a car? Would Tony be able to sort that?

When his mind finally stopped wandering for long enough to focus on the book in front of him, he noticed that he’d absently written. That was a start, maybe he really could write anywhere…

No. Nope. Those sentences had been there before he started losing track of everything.

He sighed, glaring at the notebook as if it was personally responsible for his lack of motivation. Surely, he and Holloway had been joking about the diner being magic? Surely he could get himself to write something that actually made some sense, and do it somewhere where he wasn’t thinking of her…

One sentence followed another, and then slowly but surely became a whole paragraph.

That didn’t count, he was thinking about her!

Becoming aware of that made him stop. He was thinking about her. Surely that was one huge coincidence. Surely, all he was doing here was proving that he could write in his truck if he so wanted to, it didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing!

The idea that he could’ve been so lucky to be blessed with a muse was funny to him. What had he ever done to deserve such a… Pleasure? A privilege? That kind of luck just wasn’t in the cards for him.

But, there she was, in the forefront of his mind, and his single paragraph had become three and a half before he could even think to stop himself.

She really wasn’t joking, was she?

As soon as he’d cleared things up with Hannah, which was a simple case involving going over the release files for her sister and explaining what would happen to her mother after that, he drove all the way down to Miss Retro’s, to see if he could clear the air.

Holloway saw the way Duke had come through the door, a mix of fractured confidence and sheer confusion painted on his face. He took a seat on the barstool in the far corner, and got her attention as soon as he could. “Hey, could I get a moment?” He asked, though she could see he was willing to wait for it.

So, knowing that, she nodded. “Sure, I’ve got an order coming in five, but I’ll get straight to you.”

He inclined his head, and cracked open his notebook just to prove a point to himself. In that five minutes, before she returned to him and could give him her full attention, he’d finished the page, and managed lines on the next one too. Of course the magic was working in full force here. Of course.

“So… What’s wrong?”

When he looked back up at her, she was glancing at him expectantly, seemingly knowing she’d phrased the question in the right way. He stared at her for a moment, and then looked down at the pages. The reason he was here. As if he was worried someone else would listen, his gaze darted behind him in both directions before finally settling on her again. “You weren’t kidding about that muse thing, huh?”

“What d’you mean?”

“You’re working some kinda magic on me or something… I can’t get shit done on this project unless I’m here, or you’re occupying my thoughts. I mean, I tried it in my van earlier today, and I spent more time staring out the window than I think I ever have. Soon as you come to mind, three and a half paragraphs in only a couple minutes. What? Are you actually a muse?”

There was a beat of silence. When she occupied his thoughts… Or when he was there at the diner… That made way too much sense for it to be a coincidence. He’d started this story unknowingly based on a version of the tale of her life. And now he couldn’t get it done without her. She blinked, trying to work out just how she was going to go about answering his question. Eventually, she settled on, “Seriously?”

Duke relaxed a little, thinking she was about prepared to laugh in his face. This wasn’t much of an improvement, but he could work with this. He nodded. “I’m serious. I don’t think I’ve felt stranger about anything before, but I wish I could tell you I was lying.”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“You… Do?” He raised an eyebrow.

She hummed, somewhat vacantly. There was a lot she could say about this, but he’d retain none of it, through no fault of his own. The real answer would have to be hidden in some cleverly crafted layer of charm that she’d have to act fast to work, before he started believing that she was magic and she’d have no way to tell him he was wrong. “Sometimes, people just have that effect on someone else. Who’s to say you can’t get inspiration from someone like me?”

He managed a smile, but it was still heavily rooted in the tension he felt at his shoulders. “You’re saying… People can be a source of inspiration, and it’s just one of those things?”

“Isn’t everything just ‘one of those things’?”

“I- I guess?”

“Do you… mind me being your source of inspiration?”

His answer came immediately and without hesitation. There was no need to think of the answer to that question, because he already knew how he felt about it. This was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and Holloway really didn’t seem to mind how often she was present in his head.

“No. I would honestly find a way to thank you if it wasn’t just a… thought out version of you.”

She chuckled. It sounded like a melody in itself. People used to worship the muses, didn’t they? And wasn’t the fact that she was directly responsible for a good majority of his inspiration worship in itself? He sure as hell didn’t know. It felt like he owed her something like that, but presently he still knew the difference between his head and the reality in front of him. Of course, that reality was that muses weren’t real, he just really liked thinking about her…

“I don’t mind being your muse, Duke.”

#holloweane week #holloweaneweek #duke keane #miss holloway #starkid #void offering #holloweane week 2024 #holloweane week day 4

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pandasan-power · 1 year

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Zeke is my favourite fictional character. He's just so... fascinating. He's initially presented as weird and mysterious but he turns out to be a giant dork and a huge loser with the most severe daddy issues I've ever seen.

I love him so much. Here's a very long ramble that's kinda sorta a character analysis (it's bad though).

He gives off Reddit mod energy (then again, Eren has Discord mod energy (disclaimer: I love Eren too)), has the sense of humour of a 12 year old, hangs around people who are quite a bit younger than him (granted, his only other option is creepy old military men), has smoked since he was probably like 15 and spends his life "pretending" to be stupid.

And yet he genuinely cares about other people in his own way. He really did just want to make it so that Eldians didn't have to suffer. He assumed that because he had a shit life and was treated terribly (as were his parents), everyone else was in the same boat. It never occured to him that other Eldians were happy, because, like, why would they be?

He's willing to go to the ends of the earth and beyond to fulfill his mission, which he's held on to since he was a teenager. Even though Ksaver did plant the seeds for Zeke, Zeke came up with his plan himself. Ksaver never mentioned anything about reproduction, just that the Founder could be used to alter Eldian biology.

He's devasted when Eren goes "lol jk bro" and betrays him, because he finally found someone he thought he could trust (his first mistake was trusting Eren of all people). He couldn't understand why Eren went against his plan, or what Eren was even trying to accomplish in the first place.

Also, I think it's worth mentioning that Zeke's euthanasia plan undermines everything Ymir Fritz went through. She suffered severely, but I like to imagine that she really did love her daughters to the best of her ability. Zeke saying that Eldians would be better off not existing in the first place and that he's going to get rid of them is telling Ymir Fritz that all her suffering was for absolutely fucking nothing. Whereas Eren wants Eldians to live on, because that way, Ymir can be freed, and she can see that there is beauty in the world (which she did via Mikasa, as badly explained as it was lol).

Zeke never saw that beauty. He was brainwashed and abused and taken advantage of his entire life. By his parents, by Marley (yes, even Ksaver), and, later, by Eren. To him, there was nothing redeeming about the world.

Hence his final line where he talks about what a lovely day it is and how nice/clear the sky is, but that it ultimately is too late to realise that (? I haven't read the chapter in a while, I don't remember the exact wording). That's him acknowledging that he was wrong about the world lacking beauty.

Yes, Ksaver did care for him and did love him, but he did also use Zeke for his own gain. He was projecting his son onto Zeke, as he said so himself in canon, and he was also hoping that Zeke could accomplish what he (Ksaver) wasn't able to. Zeke may not have been as determined to save the Eldians (in his own way) if he hadn't spent time with Ksaver.

Zeke and Eren are fascinating to me, because Eren threw away his humanity in order to save the world/his loved ones, yet was very upset that he had to do so (given his paths convo with Armin), yet Zeke... was stripped of most of his humanity before he had a chance to even embrace it. My personal interpretation is that he never realised he was lacking humanity (which is something Levi kept trying to point out, especially in the forest with reminding Zeke about his Rakago crime) because death and killing were so normalised to him (and to him, his enemies weren't human because they were mostly Eldians and he, as an Eldian, wasn't considered human -- or at least he may have used that as a justification for his actions), and it wasn't until the very end that it hit him.

Lastly, part of why I love the dynamic between Zeke and Levi is that they're two sides of the same coin. They're both admired and feared by people (for different reasons), are traumatised in every possible way, and are similar yet also very different.

When they're interacting, neither of them give a shit about the other's status or powers or whatever. They fight like equals on par with each other and don't hold back. Warchief Zeke? Captain Levi? Nope. They're just Zeke and Levi to each other. (And they'd be friends if they were on the same side, maybe.)

ANYWAY Zeke Yeager is a great character and I love my monkeyman so much. He had such good character development and his backstory is really well done. The "I love you, Zeke" paths scene is my favourite since in all of SnK just for how much that means for both Grisha and Zeke.

#Zeke Yeager #Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK spoilers #Shingeki no Kyojin spoilers #Attack on Titan spoilers #AoT spoilers #Character analysis #I guess #I love Zeke and I needed to get this out of my system sorry #Long post #Text post

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lolotheparagon · 4 months

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Professor Layton Games Summed Up

(MAJOR SPOILERS SINCE THESE ARE MYSTERY GAMES AND TWISTS AND TURNS ARE THIS GENRE'S BREAD AND BUTTER)

Curious Village: A professor and his kid apprentice Luke visit a village named St Mystere, thats revealed to be a secret test of character inhabited by puzzle-spouting robots set up by the late baron and his mechanic to make sure his daughter would be looked after until someone outside the village can prove themselves to be her guardian. Now that's fatherly love right there.

Pandora's Box: The professor and Luke visit a town that hasnt been changed in 50 years and visit the duke of the town to ask about Pandora's Box. A duke thinks his fiancé left him for another man when she announces her leaving town. But its actually cos she was pregnant and the town was already suffering from an air-borne illness thanks to a hallucinogenic gas that fucking killed people. And yet the duke stayed in his disease-riddled town cos of duty or some shit and sent an expensive box with a letter inside to his fiance, hoping she'll get a chance to read it. Yeah, this is Pandora's Box btw. He then pretended to be a vampire to scare people from visiting his castle. Then 50 odd years later, his granddaughter goes on this quest to find him and fix this whole misunderstanding. Why couldn't the child of the duke and his fiance be there? Cos she died giving birth, she isnt even fucking namedropped good lord. But the duke mistakes her granddaughter for his fiance cos she's the spitting image of her, but when the girl understandably hides behind Layton, the duke fucking swordfights Layton. then its revealed the duke's youth, the entire town and its people are all an illusion cos he's super high on dem hallucinogens and after the swordfight caused the whole castle to crash, the town is revealed to be a ghost town, the duke is now a withered old man and it turns out the box did make it to the duke's lover all along as there's her response letter inside!... Oh yeah the Professor and Luke were there too. What were the writers smoking and can I have some?

Lost Future: A young man who lost his parents in the collateral damage of a scientific experiment happening literally next door and grew up deciding he wants to be a terrorist. He then proceeds to manipulate and kidnap other scientists for his plans to built an ACCURATE SCALE MODEL OF LONDON UNDERGROUND, pretend to be the future self of the professor's apprentice and convince him and the professor they're in the London of the future. Then builds a giant tower robot to smash through the fake London and the real London to commit terrorism. He then gets Steven Universe redeemed cos of course he does. Fucking hell this story sucks.

Spectre's Call: The professor, Luke and a futch lesbian investigate a spectre that's rampaging throughout a misty town every night. It is revealed to be a plesiosaur fighting an excavating machine, its just the fog made them look they were one entity. And the reason the plesiosaur was fighting the machine? The villain Descole wanted to use that machine to dig up an ancient garden of legend hidden beneath the town and the plesiosaur did everything in its power to stop it cos she wanted a sick little girl named Ariana to be happy again (cos she lost her father and the townspeople thought she was a witch) and wanted to give that garden to Ariana because its pure air will be able to cure her illness. And the plesiosaur - s-she died to save Ariana and there was a beautiful statue of the plesiosaur made by the townspeople in her honour- (crying) GODDAMNIT THIS IS TOO MUCH! THIS IS SO SOFT AND SAD I FUCKING LOVE THIS GAME

Miracle Mask: The professor and the gang visit Italian Las Vegas???To visit an old friend of Layton, Angela and her husband Henry. And they're clearly in need of a divorce. Anyway, a tumblr sexyman wearing a Vendetta mask terrorises Italian Las Vegas and turns ppl into stone and doing fancy magic and shit and the professor investigate. It turns out the tumblr masked guy is actually another old friend of Layton's called Randall Ascot (YEP THATS HIS NAME) whom everyone thought he was dead and his primary motive was that his pal Henry (who started out as a servant to him btw) married Angela and he's pissed off about it so he kidnapped Angela.. Even though Angela didnt even know he survived this whole time. What is it with this series and men going completely off the rails whenever a pretty woman is involved? But oh no it wasnt Randall who was the real villain, it was Descole pulling the strings all along OOOHHHH. What is it with Layton's past friends trying to get revenge on him? Like dude's just standing there, sipping tea. This game was a mess

Azran Legacy: Okay I havent played it nor do I have the willpower to pick the game up and play it without getting bored. So I looked up the plot summary on the wiki and watched the in game cutscenes... I think this clip below sums up my entire thoughts of this game

youtube

#professor layton #spoilers #late night thoughts #level 5 #in a nutshell #curious village #pandora's box #unwound future spoilers #azran legacy spoilers #miracle mask spoilers #curious village spoilers #emmy's true identity is so bogus like omg #and descole despit being set up as the main villain in the sequels #turns out in the final game he too was a pawn #and now this old ass man is now our big bad villain with barely enough screentime to flesh him out #god the sequels were so all over the place

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willel · 1 year

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I mean there will be a reason why Joyce ultimately ends up with Lonnie. It could be a poor choice in itself, Lonnie was maybe a 'good person' outside and seemingly was a nice figure and Joyce believed that without realizing Lonnie's true face until it was too late and that they got married and then Jonathan was born... but I just wonder if their problems truly started to appear after the marriage, maybe possibly after Will was born?

Because if Lonnie was such a bad father, why didn't he leave the family right after Jonathan was born? Why did he only ever leave after Will's birth and after just deciding that there was no 'hope' for Will? We also have to realize that Lonnie actually tried to get Jonathan on his side in S1 when he said Jonathan should just leave the town.

Do not get me wrong I am not saying Lonnie wasn't a bad person. I am just saying it is rather *interesting* that he left only after Will was born but not after Jonathan was born. I mean, he clearly was staying in the family for years, but then he left after Will's birth. Maybe he believed Will had no hope to become 'normal' while he saw Jonathan as more of a valuable child.

Jonathan once said, "I don't think my parents ever loved each other" or something like that. I think that still rings true. Listen. My parents aren't AS BAD as Lonnie and Joyce (my dad was an absent father but he still isn't at Lonnie level scum and my mom is not is not the affectionate type like Joyce), but... let's just say, I understand why I was born. I was an oopsie. But my little brother???? I don't know how the hell HE was born. It's a goddamn mystery let me tell you.

Sometimes despite how incompatible two people are, they just.... end up together for a bit and create families. I'm always like "If the relationship was so bad leading up to me and everything after... WHY then, does my little brother exist? Ya'll are stupid." (yes, I call my parents stupid. They accept this.)

Until the news about the play came, I think most of us assumed Lonnie and Joyce stuck together because Lonnie baby trapped Joyce or something with Jonathan. That may still be true, but the timelines don't really add up.

Maybe it's the case that much like in season 1, Lonnie continuously pretended he's "changed" before inevitably screwing up and showing his true colors?

Maybe for years Joyce and Lonnie were on and off. I imagine since Joyce and Hopper weren't on speaking terms, maybe Lonnie did something to ruin their relationship at some point during all this.

Jonathan is born because again, Lonnie pretended to "turn a new leaf" and made his way back into Joyce's life. It immediately took a downturn I assumed. But once again, maybe he convinced Joyce he would be better and they had a second child to "fix it". But it only got worse?

I know you're like "No way Joyce is this gullible to fall for it over and over again". It's possible she did. Not because she's stupid, but I imagine her mental, emotional and financial health was not good for a long time. Here's some fun facts.

In the US, women weren't allowed to own their own bank accounts until the 1960's. That means most women relied on their fathers or husbands for finances.

It isn't until 1974 that women were allowed to have their own debit/credit cards without their husbands signing off on it. Literally.

You can see in a situation like that how throughout most of their relationship, Joyce would've been depending on Lonnie because of finances. And how with all this power over finances, Lonnie screwed his own family over with his debt and overspending.

Saying all that, I think we can say Joyce kept Lonnie around because:

She was dependent on him emotionally for a while even though he was the one making her mental health worse

She was dependent on him for finances even though he probably spent all their money and put them in debt

At one point, she probably didn't want to become a social pariah since being a single mother divorcing your husband was looked down upon

She somewhat wanted the kids to have a father even though he sucked ass (Lonnie left when Will 4-8 years old depending on the source you read)

I'd also like to say, I don't think Lonnie just left. I think over the years, Joyce has dumped Lonnie, kicked him out, and then took back on repeat.

I make this assumption based on season 1. He seems super bitter towards Joyce. When he finally comes back to town, he's once again playing up his "I'm better now" act to Joyce and Jonathan.

When Joyce discovers he's just there for the money, her reaction gives me the impression that he might've done something similar in the past. Weasel his way back into her life because of money.

She says, "I can't believe I feel for this!"

Then Lonnie goes into a spiel about how much she NEEDS him and she can't do anything right without him there.

Joyce has to threaten him to get him out of her house. Apparently he was at her door for hours, demanding to let him back in and take him back. She goes to the door with a hammer to threaten him some more.

All of this gives me the impression that it wasn't as simple as "Lonnie left". I think Joyce dumped his ass for the final time and he was forced to leave. Through his bitterness of getting dumped and removed from the home, he willingly became an absentee father and did nothing to support his family. No doubt over the years he's been waiting for a crisis to hit them which would give him an opportunity to enter their lives once more.

#stranger things #joyce maldonado #joyce byers #will byers #jonathan byers #lonnie byers

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juancarlos-ortiz · 2 months

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Marked for Carnage - Chapter 2 (Juice Ortiz x OC Fic)

Marked for Carnage Masterlist

A/N: My apologies for the lateness between uploads! I am hoping to upload 1 chapter a week at the least but I am a mum to 2 young ones and uni has just gone back so I'm trying to find time when I can. This is probably going to be a slight slowburn for Juice and Ronnie so hopefully people are into that! Also wanted to state that this series will include swearing, alcohol and drug use, violence, death and potentially smutty scenes. This is 18+ please do not read or interact if you are under 18. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2929 words

Juice frowned as he exited the clubhouse, making his way across to the garage. He had just told his brothers that his insider at city hall had told him about Hale having a warrant to search their warehouse. The warehouse that was very much blown to pieces and currently still holding the burnt bodies of two women. It had soured everyone's mood, being an issue that no one wanted to deal with right now. He slowed his steps down, a smile flashing across his face, and his mood lifting immediately as he spotted his mystery girl from the hospital a couple of days ago walking up the driveway towards the garage. Changing his direction, Juice walked into the office through the garage, hoping he was the only one there and that he could catch her on her own. To his delight, the office was empty. He rested against the front of the desk, crossing his arms - maybe or maybe not flexing them a little more than usual - and waited for her to enter.

Ronnie knocked on the office door and pushed it open when a husky voice told her to come in. To her surprise, she was greeted by the man who had called out to her at the hospital about her tattoos. Her stomach flipped as she took him in, that bright dazzling smile, and shoulders and arms pushing against the fabric of his black tshirt snugly. His choice of haircut was different, and if it was on anyone else she might roll her eyes at it, but coupled with his tattoos and the cut he wore, she decided it suited him. And she kind of liked it. "Hi," she smiled. "Hey," he grinned back. Suddenly Ronnie scrambled trying to piece together a sentence before the silence got too awkward. "My car," she blurted. He raised an eyebrow and smirked. Ronnie huffed a laugh and continued explaining. "My car… I need to pick it up. It's here. Because it’s a piece of shit," she concluded, throwing her hands up in a shrug.

Juice laughed as the woman in front of him shuffled from foot to foot, cracking her knuckles. He thought it might be too presumptuous to conclude that it was him making her nervous, but he seriously hoped it was. "Yeah sure, which car?" he asked, already knowing she drove the black Toyota but not wanting to come across as some kind of creep. She scanned through the window out to the lot, pointing at the car he had seen her drive. Juice nodded and began to look through the key case for her keys, not having any luck. "They must still be in the workshop," he explained. "I'll be right back."

Ronnie watched him walk out the door and took a seat on the small sofa near the door. Suddenly the door burst open, making her jump. "Veronica Winston," Gemma Teller smiled down at her from where she stood in the doorway. Ronnie stood and stepped into the woman's open arms, closing her eyes. "Hey Gemma," she sighed. Gemma had been the closest thing she had to a mother after her parents divorced and her mom left with Opie. She had gotten her through her teenage years pretty much up until Ronnie left town. Gemma pulled away, holding her at arms length. Then she pulled a hand back and slapped Ronnie lightly on the shoulder. "Why didn’t you tell me you were back in town, you little shit," she griped. Ronnie sighed, looking at the floor. "Was real difficult to even come back Gemma," she admitted. "Guess I just wanted to do things slowly. Not make a big deal out of it."

Juice stood at the door into the office, keys in his hand. He had seen through the window Gemma embracing the girl and them speaking as though they knew each other quite well. This was certainly intriguing. He had never seen her around but it seemed that maybe she wasn't a complete stranger to Charming. Gemma opened the door, stopping in her tracks when she saw Juice so close by. "You eavesdropping, Juice?" she asked, in her most "try me" Gemma way possible. Juice shook his head, holding the keys to the toyota up in exclamation. "Just giving these back to their owner," he pointed to the open door. Moving past Gemma, he passed the keys over to the woman, smiling when their hands touched. Her skin seemed soft, even in that fleeting moment.

After paying, Ronnie exited the office, surprised that Juice followed her out. "So," she said as they walked towards her car. "Juice?" He smiled, scratching the back of his neck as they continued to walk. "Yeah it's uh, not really a long or interesting story but. Just kind of stuck," he shrugged. Ronnie laughed softly and slowed her walking, coming to a stop and facing the man. "I'm Veronica," she stated holding her hand out to him. Juice stared at her hand before grasping it in his. It was rough, calloused no doubt from riding and working in the garage, warm against her palm. "But everyone calls me Ronnie." Juice smiled, nearly knocking the breath from her. Jesus Christ, she had hardly met the guy but he was doing a number on her. "Ronnie," he said her name as if he was testing it out on his tongue, his voice making the hair on her arms stand on end. "Nice to meet you Ronnie," he smirked and began to back away in the direction of the clubhouse. "See you around maybe?" he asked. Ronnie smiled as she made her way to her car, calling over. "That would be nice." As she reached her car she looked over to the club house, double taking when she noticed her brother sitting at a table there, glowering at her. She waved at him, rolling her eyes when he only continued to glare, sending a seething look in Juice's direction as well.

Juice smiled as he watched Ronnie getting into her car, his eyes lingering on the curves of her body that seemed to fit snug in her jeans and her soft arms exposed by the tshirt she had tucked into them - completely oblivious to Opie's death stare directed at him from where he sat. "What was that about?" he asked Juice. Juice jumped, turning to face Opie. "What do you mean?" Opie nodded his head towards where Ronnie's car had been parked, now gone. "Was just helping out a customer," Juice explained. Opie scowled at him before getting up and heading into the clubhouse where Clay was calling for Chapel. Juice stood staring at the seat that Opie had vacated in confusion. Did he know Ronnie? He hoped for his sake that that wasn't the case, and that someone had just pissed in Opie's proverbial cereal this morning and that’s why he was in a bad mood. He was into this girl. God, he wasn't looking for marriage and a mortgage - but she was beautiful, and new and exciting. Maybe they could have some fun together.

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Later that night, Ronnie placed the pizza boxes down on the bench, pulling out two plates and loading them up. She took them to the living room where she handed one to her father and took a seat on the couch next to him. Piney pursed his lips and placed the plate on the table in front of him. Ronnie rolled her eyes. "Dad, you need to eat something. Even if it is shitty pizza," she said. Piney grunted, patting the bottle of tequila at his side as if that would fill him just fine. "God your liver must be screaming," Ronnie mumbled, tearing into her first slice. "You can hardly talk," Piney stated. "Not one fresh fruit or vegetable in that fridge. And microwave boxes in your trash," he pulled a cigarette out from his cut, rolling it under his nose. "Should cook yourself some real food." Ronnie huffed and put her plate down next to her fathers.

"I grew up with you remember," she muttered. "Didn’t teach me shit." Her father snorted a laugh. "Gemma was always there. You know she would have loved to be the one to teach you. She's a better cook than your mom." Ronnie smacked her fathers shoulder. "No way was I stepping in that kitchen with Gemma," she replied. "One fuck up and she would probably cut one of my fingers off. Use them as sausages or something." She wiggled her fingers in front of her, a frown on her face. Piney smiled at his daughter. Yeah, she had been mostly vacant from his life for nearly ten years but he still couldn’t believe how much she seemed to have changed. She had been a scrappy little thing when she was in high school. All elbows and knees, her face always painted heavily with makeup. She tended to roll with the rougher kids, always wanting to be as tough as her older brother. She was always trying to follow Opie and Jax around, get in with their crew of friends but the boys wouldn’t have it. So she made her own connections, which had unfortunately led to her nearly disappearing from their lives entirely. Now, Piney took her in as she sat on the couch with him. She was filled out these days, and her face was soft and kind. She reminded him of her mother in that respect. She had grown her hair out a lot longer than she ever did in school, the brown tresses falling to her waist.

"You seem like you’re doing ok back in Charming, sweetheart," Piney remarked. Ronnie turned to him with a raised brow. "You making any friends?" he asked. "Meet any… guys." He didn't even try to hide the distasteful frown on his face as the question came out of his mouth. "Jesus Christ, dad," Ronnie uttered. "You really gonna try and give me the talk? I'm 28, and - despite trying to scrub it from memory - we stumbled through that nearly 12 years ago." Piney waved her off. "Not talkin' about that. Just want to make sure you're getting' out. Being social. I don't think having your father as your only friend is very… 'cool' these days." Ronnie smiled and nudged her father with her shoulder. "Going soft on me, old man?" she joked. "Don’t worry dad, I'll try to get out more. But," she laid her head on his shoulder. "I love spending time with you. Don’t care if its cool or not."

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Ronnie pulled her SUV into the Teller Morrow parking lot. Her father had polished off his bottle of tequila, and despite his arguments that he had made the trip plenty of times before, she refused to let him drive himself back. She had seen the results of MVAs involving alcohol and wouldn’t let that happen to her father or anyone he crossed paths with, even if the trip was short. She got out of the car and made her way around the car to help Piney. He waved her off as he got out of the passenger side. "I got it, I got it," he grunted. She helped him anyway, putting herself under his arm in support. Slowly they walked towards the clubhouse.

"Wow," Ronnie breathed as they walked in. "It's just like I remembered. But smaller somehow." She helped Piney to the bar, her arms out to steady him as he got himself seated on a stool. "Shouldn’t have bought you here as much as I did," he sniffed. Ronnie shrugged, making her way over to the wall filled with mugshots. She spotted her father easily enough, and Opie and Jax. Her smiled widened when she spotted Juice's face on the wall. His hair was grown out of the mohawk but still buzzed close, his mouth pulled tight and soft eyes staring down the camera. She felt as though she could tell he was overdoing it - that the tough guy thing wasn't 100% him. "Member's kids are always hanging around here," she reminded Piney. "Don’t matter. Still shouldn't have done it. Would have been better off if you went with Ope and your mother," Piney reached for the bottle of tequila that had been left out on the bar.

"Pops," Ronnie sighed, running a hand through her hair. "We are not having this conversation right now. I wanted to stay here. It was my choice and you and mum let me make it. End of story." Piney just scowled and knocked back a sip from the bottle. "You gonna be ok if I head out?" she asked him. He nodded and held his arm out to his daughter. She stepped into him, giving him a brief hug. "Not my first night at this bar, sweetheart." She smiled and bid him farewell. "Hey, one last thing," Piney called after her. She spun around to face him. "Your brother, he came to me today. He's," Piney waved the bottle around slowly. "Having some… money… issues." Ronnie sighed and tilted her head. "If he wanted my help dad, he would have come to me. You know what he's like. Will be too stubborn and proud if I go to him first." "He's your brother," Piney pointed the bottle at her. "Put that shit aside and help him if you can."

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Juice walked beside the Prospect through the parking lot to the clubhouse. Jax and Chibs had already jumped on their bikes and taken off. Today and tonight had been hard work, with them pulling off the fake shootout to keep Hale off their backs about the warehouse. He needed a beer, a shower and a croweater if any were around. "That shit was crazy," Half-Sack chortled, his excitement from the night seeming to last a lot longer than Juice's. "See how we were all lined up and just," Sack held his hand up in the shape of a gun. "Bap, bap, bapbapbap. Straight into that dude!" Juice rolled his eyes. "The guy was already dead," he laughed. Half-Sack dropped his hand to his side, offence flashing across his face. "Don’t rain on my parade man, that's the most action I've gotten in months!" Juice raised an eyebrow at him. "I mean," Sack scratched the back of his head. "Not like that… I get action. I mean I have before. But that's not what I meant!" Juice laughed as the Prospect fumbled.

They neared the entrance to the clubhouse when suddenly a woman walked out. Juice was surprised to find it was Ronnie. She yelped when she spotted them, holding her hand to her chest. "You okay?" Juice heard Piney yell from inside the clubhouse. "Yeah, I'm good," she yelled back. His confusion increased. What was she doing at the clubhouse this late ? Did she know Piney? He had seen her closeness to Gemma earlier. Was she more ingrained with the Son's than he realised? "Sorry, we didn’t mean to scare you," Half Sack said, smiling a little too friendlier at her than Juice liked. Ain't no way someone else was pushing up on her before he did, let alone Half-Sack. "Get inside Prospect," he snapped. Sack groaned and followed his orders.

"What are you doing here?" Juice asked. Ronnie looked taken aback at his question. "Dropping someone off," she pointed over her shoulder. "Why? You don’t like bumpin' into me Juice?" she asked, the smirk on her face heating his blood. Jesus Christ, what was she doing to him? He felt like he was 17 all over again and had no control over his body. "Actually," he began, taking a step toward her. Her eyes widened for a second before she tried to play it cool, making Juice smirk this time. "I've been hoping to bump into you since this morning," he admitted. She turned her head, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Juice eyed the movement. "Really?" she asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Yeah," he nodded. "You forgot to tip me." Ronnie's eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursing in confusion. "Tip you?"

"Mhm," he nodded. "For my outstanding service, getting your keys located for you and all that." Ronnie laughed, and Juice's heart did a funny thump in his chest. "My bad," she smiled. "And what kind of tip are you after, Juice?" she asked, her warm eyes cutting into his. Avoiding making an inuendo - although tempting - he answered. "Your number would be a good start." Ronnie huffed a smiled and laughed again, holding her hand out to him. "Gimme your phone then." She typed her number into the new contact page and handed it back to him. She walked past him towards her car, her shoulder brushing his and her scent filling his nostrils. Sweet like vanilla but also a little woody. Whatever it was he decided it was his new favourite smell. "Better put it good use, Juice," she said over her shoulder. Juice smiled, holding his phone to his chest as he watched her drive out of the parking lot. But his smile fell when he remembered how strange it seemed to be for her to be here at this time of night. And who was she dropping off? Piney? Juice turned and headed into the clubhouse in search of that beer and shower. He didn’t give a shit about finding a croweater anymore. He needed to find answers.

#juan carlos juice ortiz #juan carlos ortiz #juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz fic #juice ortiz x oc #juice soa #soa #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction #soa fandom #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy fanfiction

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