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chalkrevelations · 1 year

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OK. OK OK OK.

So, yes, the importance of Vegas telling Pete during that final hospital scene that Pete isn’t his pet, he’s the most important person in Vegas’ life is obvious. But I’ve been talking to @lu-sn and @minorfamilysupremacy about some of this, and new implications and layers of that KEEP hitting me. Bear with me a minute, because I’m trying to organize my thoughts and get them down before they get away. Back here, I talked about how Vegas’s question of whether “someone else” can feed Pete isn’t theoretical, it’s really about Kinn. And then the statement in the hospital, this “you’re the most important person in my life” is, in some ways, ALSO about Kinn, and about the main family, and about Pete’s relationship to them vs. his relationship to Vegas, and about the choices Pete’s made to stay with, and then to leave, and then to stay with Vegas.

So, from the beginning, Vegas calls Pete a dog because he is a dog for the main family. That’s the level of respect and care he gets from them. He’s a working dog, so he’s kept in good shape, and he’s a loyal hound, the way dogs can be. Even as he resigns, he tells Korn that he’ll always love the main family and feel loyalty to them (and excavating how much truth is there, and how long it’ll last in the face of Korn’s inevitable machinations of Vegas is a whole other question ...). But he is unquestionably there for the service of family members, to be used as a tool however they want to use him. We see Pete serve with loyalty and equanimity and even some surface pleasure in some of his duties, but underneath it all, we finally learn - after Vegas cracks that tailored bodyguard armor open and pulls Pete apart just as surely as he pulled apart any of his torture victims, to look at his soft squishy insides, to look at his heart, to look at his soul, to see who Pete really is under the dog collar bodyguard suit and routine the main family keeps him in (kind of just a different level of the kennel bedroom Vegas keeps him in with a dog bowl to eat out of) - we learn that Pete gets no real satisfaction from any of this, that he lives his life feeling empty and useless. So empty and useless that once he has someone see him for who he really is and treat him like an actual person and then has that snatched back out of his grasp by Vegas’s trauma responses and abuse, he would rather die than continue to live that way with Vegas. He would rather kill himself than be Vegas’s dog. So what he does is knock Vegas flat and run right back to the main family to be their dog again.

Because it doesn’t hurt as much when they only treat you as a dog and a tool. When they don’t see you as an actual person, when they haven’t seen who you really are, haven’t treated you as a person and touched you with tenderness and reverence, and looked at you like you’re the entire world and fed you and fed you and fed you until you burst with it, for the first time in your life - and then put the dog collar right back on you. Being a dog for the main family is business as usual. Being a dog for Vegas, when Vegas knows the person underneath it and - Pete now thinks he wrongly presumed - cares about that person, is unendurable. It’s so much worse than being forgotten by Kinn.

I think hearing that Vegas DOES love him during the parking lot beatdown/confession scene is part of why Pete can set aside his issues with the label and role of “pet” when he eventually disavows the personal autonomy he fought Vegas so hard for, in favor of saving Vegas’s life in the poolside scene. Vegas actually does care for him in a way that the main family doesn’t, and he’s told Pete so. This is Pete’s “I love you” back to Vegas, although I’ve also talked about how I think the beatdown and the “I’m your pet” line mirror each other as self-effacing and dehumanizing expressions of love. Which then becomes part of exactly why “You’re not my pet, you’re the most important person in my life” becomes so. very. important: Because it lets us see that Vegas knows what he’s cost Pete.

Vegas is so smart. We see that again and again and again. We see it when the lightbulb goes on almost immediately when Pete tells him that the abuse Vegas endures isn’t even about him, it’s because Kun is a shitty father. We see it when he almost immediately operationalizes this knowledge and shows up the next time he’s been smacked around having already done some self-care by putting on his soft pajama pants and Pete’s metaphorical skin. (Listen, I’ve decided the navy T-shirt is actually the same T-shirt that Pete was wearing the first time he got caught sneaking around the minor family house, that it was the dark T-shirt Pete’s wearing under the orange jumpsuit the second time he got caught sneaking around the minor family house, and then given that it’s already been stripped off of him by the time Vegas shows up to see Pete tied to a pillar in Torture Dungeon Main, it’s lying around somewhere down there for Vegas to pick up like a serial killer trophy, and now he’s wearing it like a boyfriend shirt. You will not change my mind about this.)

ANYWAY. It took Pete having a complete nervous breakdown, a suicide attempt, knocking Vegas the fuck out, and running back to the main family, but Vegas finally also seems to understand what he’s done, what he’s cost Pete. He apologizes - repeatedly - and he literally puts his life in Pete’s hands, and then he leaves Pete in control of what happens from there, no matter how much it’s killing Vegas to do so. He actually prioritizes Pete’s feelings over his own, which is one reason I will go toe-to-toe with anyone who tries to tell me that Vegas isn’t actually the best character in the show, narratively speaking, with the best defined and most compelling growth arc. And so I have no problem believing that Vegas finally understands why it hurts Pete so much to be Vegas’s dog when he’s been able to endure it for the main family, but also that what Pete is getting from the main family isn’t enough anymore. Vegas knows what it costs Pete to take on that role again at poolside, just to keep Vegas from killing himself, and maybe Vegas even understands that Pete, himself, thinks he can endure it now that he has some assurance from Vegas that Vegas actually does love him. And what’s so so so important here is that Vegas doesn’t want that for Pete. He doesn’t want to treat Pete like the main family - “that filthy family” - does. He doesn’t want to treat Pete like Vegas, himself, has in the past. He wants Pete to know that, no, Pete doesn’t have to just accept the crumbs that fall on the floor off of Vegas’s table. He gets to sit at the table. When Vegas says “You’re the most important person in my life,” he’s saying “I still see you. I see you as person, not as a dog, the way the main family does, the way Kinn does, the way Kinn still does. I understand what you were telling me when you let me know that kind of treatment doesn’t feed you, doesn’t nourish you. And I’m not going to do that to you. This relationship is not going to be a poison pill. I’m going to feed you the way you deserve to be fed, treat you the way you actually deserve to be treated.”

And that’s why this line is just as important as Pete’s choice of Vegas over Kinn at the poolside scene, when Pete rejects the idea of someone else (Kinn) feeding him. This is practically in direct response to that. Pete’s made the choice that he wants Vegas to feed him, so Vegas is taking on the responsibility to feed him properly, and in contrast to the way Kinn and the main family have been feeding him.

Vegas is promising that Pete now gets to eat whenever he wants, whatever he wants, and that’s in direct contrast to the main family’s McDonald’s Kid Meal bodyguard rations version of affection.

#pete phongsakorn #vegas theerapanyakul #and a little bit #kinn theerapanyakul #vegaspete #kinnporsche #how we feeling vegaspete nation?#these guys still got one hand around my throat and the other around my heart

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callsign-marlie · 2 years

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good boy. (18+)

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x gn!clinican (Callsign: Doc) rating: M warnings: 18+ content minors DNI!!!, SUB!HANGMAN!!!, boy's got his head in the gutter 25/8, praise kink hELL YEAH, innuendos galore, handjob mention, pegging/PinA depending on how you visualize Doc :3, thigh grinding, choking kink?, did i mention innuendos EVERYWHERE? summary: a stress test is not a good time for Hangman to imagine getting a handy from his doctor... a/n: HOOBOY THIS IS UNEDITTED. It came out like water and I wrote it in an hour and fifteen minutes LMFAO please enjoy and i'm sorry for the self indulgence. might have to do this from Doc's POV too if people are interested ;)

“Very good, Lieutenant.”

Hangman was doing his best to breathe in and out of the silicone mask covering his mouth and nose. The air collecting tube was connected to a piece swinging just above his head, creaking eerily at each foot strike. The electrodes measuring his heart rate and pulse tugged against his taut skin. The wires they were attached to were tickling each rib while he speed walked up the inclining treadmill. He was hyper aware of how much hardware he was connected to thanks to the quietness in the lab.

Doc didn’t allow music to play during stress tests. All focus needed to be on them. A shame, really.

Cardiopulmonary testing was commonplace among naval pilots to make sure their bodies were in the best possible shape to handle the strains of supersonic speeds. Anything less than above average and you’ll be doing PT every morning for the foreseeable future until you are exceptional. These tests didn’t happen often, maybe once every three years, but on a select detachment like this one, all pilots must be subject to one to ensure they would be able to handle the impending trauma for high-G flight.

“How are you doing?”

Doc’s eyes were trained on their computer screen, but he could hear the smirk in their voice as the treadmill ramped higher. “Just peachy, Doc. I could do this all day.”

Doc tore their vision from the squiggling lines to wrap a blood pressure cuff around his upper arm. This part? The worst. The constriction of that stupid wrap bothered him more than his face being covered.

“You know I’m perfect, you really gotta do that?”

“It’s just a part of protocol, Lieutenant Seresin. If I don’t track your blood pressures and you’re hypertensive under exertion here, you could blow a coronary in the sky and die before your plane incinerates you. Period, the end. Do you think I'd want that on my conscience?”, they teased. The cool metal of their stethoscope stung against his inner elbow as the cuff inflated tightly.

The treadmill ticked up again. The pace was getting awkward. He wanted to jog, but it was still too slow to keep pace. “At least I’d go out in a blaze of glory.”

Doc was silent as they released the pressure of their cuff. “Good boy, you’re doing great.” They ticked in the new number to their computer.

If he wasn’t as sturdy as he was, Hangman would have face planted. G-Good boy? Was that a fluke? Did they think they were talking to their dog? Or a kid, maybe? Doc sees all kinds of patients being such a well renowned physician to North Base and its inhabitants. He felt a flush grow across his cheeks and a warmth in his chest. Doc’s grin of satisfaction was enough to extend the fire to the pit of his stomach. “Ah, there’s the heart rate increase. Keep going.”

Jake couldn’t help his breathing getting heavier. He was doing well? As he damn well should! He was the best of the best and he was only going to prove it. The treadmill ramped further, the aviator finally taking off in a comfortable jog.

“You look great up there,” Doc encouraged, eyes running over the cut muscles of his torso. “Give me more.”

Give me more. All Jake could imagine was Doc’s hands wrapped around his neck, his breathing tight, their core straddled against his thigh as they ground down onto him, hot and hard. He could hear his own moans, loud and raunchy. Spittle would be running down the side of his lips begging to be kissed. He would be a good boy and let them work their magic, wishing they'd move slightly north to slide over his cock. He would be doing his best to look them in the eyes while they-

“You alright, Lieutenant? Your ventilation rate just increased exponentially. Get it under control. Can you do three more minutes for me?”

“A-anything for you,” he sputtered, doing his best to reign his brain in. The sweat that was pooling along his upper lip was becoming a nuisance. He felt like he was only breathing in heat. Three minutes. Just had to hold out for three more minutes…

No, he needed to push further.

The burning in his stomach was causing more of a problem than he anticipated. Jake never experienced a runner’s high before, but this had to be damn near close. He always thought runners were masochists putting their body through such turmoil all to chase the pavement. The way he was feeling, it had to be similar.

“Don’t stop. Push yourself.”

Push yourself. Jake’s imagination went wild at the thought of Doc’s fist twisting around his cock, their fingertips dusting over the tip before pulling away. Push yourself. He imagined himself squirming and writhing against the bed, the loss of friction agonizing when they teasingly pull away. They always came back though, fingers twisting around the head of his dick until he was purple and so hard. He was always so close… it just wasn’t enough.

“Open your eyes Lieutenant. That’s it, good job. Can you keep going?”

His legs were automatic at this point. He didn’t feel anything else. Just the pulse in his head and his constricted breathing were the only things keeping him grounded. Jake was near a sprint up the hill, running up a ladder. “I can go! I can go!”

“Give me one more minute, you’re doing so well for me!”

Did this idiot even know what they were saying?! Jake’s head was a lost cause. He could feel himself bent over and oh so full, his asshole pulling and stretching at every thrust behind them. You’re doing so well for me. He imagined himself trying to hold back his whimpers at each pound into his little hole, but their skillful fingers would knot in his hair and pull. He’d be yanked up harshly against their chest. Doc’s fingers would be flicking, pinching and pulling at his nipples as he came apart in pieces–

Jake bailed. Holy shit. His body was a complete limp noodle minus the al dente one hanging between his legs.

“Great job, well done! Excellent work!”

His chest was heaving and his mouth was completely dry. The hardness in his shorts was extremely uncomfortable as he doubled over, watching the track slow and the machine lowering itself back flat. He was trying the best he could to conceal the tent in his shorts as Doc moved behind him, their hips so close to his. He could feel their heat. He could feel just how close they were as they reached on their tip tops to undo the velcro strap of his mask with nimble fingers. He wondered what they would have felt like spreading him wide…

“All done, Lieutenant. That was one of the most emphatic passes I’ve seen yet! I’ll have the results to Admiral Simpson by tomorrow. Head to the showers, you deserve it.”

He was spun to face them, his head dizzy, as their nitrile-covered fingers worked to dig under the electrodes. They snapped them off with 10 delicious rips from his skin, the hair on his chest pulling at the sensation. He needed to grab the side rails in order to stop the moans from escaping his throat.

Doc tossed the aviator a towel to dry off and reached into the top cabinet next to their work station to grab a water bottle for him. The hem of their shirt rode up just enough to tease a view of small of their back and a full view of their ample ass in those tight as fuck scrubs.

Hangman, his face creased in concentration, trudged off the treadmill with knocking knees to reach for his t-shirt on the chair by the lab door. The standard issued naval PT shirt was on at light speed, sweat leaking through the heather gray, as he turned to wave goodbye to Doc. “Th-thanks for your time. And, uh, thanks for the water. Uh, I-I'll see you again.” A hand moved to brush the sweat off his face… and maybe extinguish part of the embarrassed burn in his cheeks while he exited the lab. No way they didn't know. No way.

“I look forward to it,” Doc cooed, their eyes drinking in his body.

He needed to get the fuck out before he creamed his shorts right there.

Their gaze lingered steadily on the soft curve of his ass for a moment too long before they sent him wink, turning back to their paperwork. “The heart never lies, Lieutenant. The heart never lies. I can see it all.”

—-

“Yo Bagman, how’d the stress test go?” Phoenix was all smiles as Jake exited the lab, peering up from her too-old lobby copy of People magazine. “Doc didn’t torture you too badly, did they? I heard they had a mean streak.”

Jake sneered at the woman. “It’s Hangman. And they said it was an emphatic pass, thank you very much. I’d like to see you weaklings try to beat my time. You won’t come close.”

Rooster, who sat beside her to wait for his own turn, looked up from his phone with a quirked brow. “Ya know, I’d be a little offended if I didn’t know you suck at running. Don’t tattle, Hangman. It’s not a good look on you when your credibility is already shakier than an earthquake.”

Bob, who was sandwiched between the two, squirmed unsteadily in his seat while attempting eye contact with Hangman. “You know, what Phoenix said is true, though. I heard they had nearly sent Coyote through the roof when he went in for his hip therapy after that basics accident he had. He said they kept saying “how well” he was doing as they started to bend him like a pretzel. He said the relief he felt when their fingers dug into just the right spot was something that…”

Jake wasn’t listening anymore. He didn’t even acknowledge them as he hustled through the door, slamming it shut behind them. Fuck those idiots.

He needed a cold shower.

---

tagging: @fangirlofallthings22

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun ff #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman top gun #hangman ff #hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin imagine

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kingteeshops · 2 months

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Bring back dollar dog night shirt

T-shirts are more than just clothes, they're a canvas for creativity and self-expression – where fashion meets art to redefine your everyday wardrobe. If you are looking for a trendy shirt, don't worry, we have you covered with the design Bring back dollar dog night shirt. Or browse through the hottest collection t-shirts and choose one that appeals to you. From vibrant and intricate designs to minimalist and thought-provoking graphics, our printed t-shirts cater to every style and taste. Crafted from high-quality, breathable fabrics, they provide unmatched comfort and durability, ensuring you not only look great but feel great all day long. Whether you're a trendsetter looking to make a style statement or a fan of classic styles, our printed t-shirts will add a touch of personality to your outfit. Up your fashion game and convey your unique style with these versatile and timeless pieces. Bring back dollar dog night shirt Don’t miss the chance! Come and grab one gift for you or your friend. 100% satisfaction guaranteed. If you want another color or a different style, you can visit Kingteeshops. Description - Solid colors are 100% cotton; Heather colors are 50% cotton, 50% polyester (Sport Grey is 90% cotton, 10% polyester); Antique colors are 60% cotton, 40% polyester. - Made from specially spun fibers that make very strong and smooth fabric, perfect for printing. - Knitted in one piece using tubular knit, it reduces fabric waste and makes the garment more attractive. - Ribbed knit makes the collar highly elastic and helps retain its shape. - Twill tape covers the shoulder seams to stabilize the back of the garment and prevent stretching. - Machine wash: warm (max 40C or 105F); Non-chlorine: bleach as needed; Tumble dry: medium; Do not iron; Do not dry-clean. Feedback - We try our best to make sure every customer is completely satisfied. - If you are happy with your purchase, please consider posting a positive review for us. This helps us to continue providing great products and helps potential buyers to make confident decisions. - If you are not happy with the purchase, please contact us to resolve the problem. The Bring back dollar dog night shirt is a fun and playful piece of clothing that is perfect for any board game enthusiast. This shirt features a unique graphic that showcases the classic board game experience of holding up cards to reveal your hand. The graphic is bold and eye-catching, with vibrant colors that make it stand out. The shirt itself is made from high-quality materials, ensuring both comfort and durability. The design is printed on a soft, breathable fabric that feels great against the skin, making it perfect for all-day wear. The Hold Up Your Cards Board Game shirt is a great addition to any casual wardrobe, and is perfect for wearing to game nights, parties, or just for lounging around the house. With its playful design and comfortable fit, this shirt is sure to become a favorite for any board game fan. You Can See More Product Click Here Read the full article

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tshirtfashiontrend · 2 months

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Bring back dollar dog night shirt

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pixenite · 9 months

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What Are Some Top Branding Phenomena Till Now In 2023

In the ever-evolving landscape of the business world, branding has emerged as a powerful and essential tool for companies to make a lasting impact on consumers. The year 2023 so far has seen a remarkable transformation in how branding is perceived and executed.

As technology advances, societal values shift, and consumer behaviors change, businesses must adapt and innovate their branding strategies. You can hire branding services in Ahmedabad to differentiate your business from the crowd. In this blog, we will delve into the branding phenomenon of 2023, exploring the latest trends, challenges, and opportunities that have shaped the branding landscape this year.

1.Purpose-Driven Branding

In 2023, consumers will be more discerning than ever, seeking meaningful connections with the brands they support. Purpose-driven branding has taken center stage as companies align their values with their target audiences. Customers are drawn to brands that champion social and environmental causes, leading to increased brand loyalty and advocacy.

Brands that genuinely embrace a purpose beyond profits have significantly gained customer trust and engagement. One of the best examples is the Dove Self-Esteem Project. The campaign shows how social media is affecting the mental health of kids. Most of Dove’s campaigns are about self-love and appreciating the real you.

2.Personalization At Scale

Thanks to advancements in data analytics and artificial intelligence, personalization has reached new heights in 2023. Brands can now deliver tailored experiences to individual customers, creating a sense of exclusivity and relevance.

From personalized product recommendations to targeted marketing campaigns, companies leverage data to foster deeper connections with their customers, resulting in increased customer satisfaction and improved brand perception. When it comes to personalization, Netflix is the best. It uses AI best with deep learning, behavioral targeting, and personalized content.

3.Augmented Reality (AR) In Branding

Augmented Reality has disrupted the branding landscape in 2023, offering immersive experiences to consumers like never before. Brands are using AR to provide virtual try-ons, interactive product demonstrations, and gamified marketing experiences.

This technology enhances customer engagement and allows brands to showcase their products in innovative and captivating ways, leaving a lasting impression on consumers’ minds. Valentino, the luxury brand, uses the app where users can sample virtual clothes in real-time from the Valentino Urban Flows Fall 2023 men’s collection and can even share looks with friends.

4.Storytelling As A Marketing Strategy

Storytelling remains a potent marketing strategy in 2023, allowing brands to connect emotionally with their audiences. Consumers are more likely to engage with a brand that tells a compelling story rather than one that bombards them with generic advertisements.

Brands are weaving narratives that resonate with their target demographics, highlighting their origins, missions, and societal impact. When it comes to storytelling, Amazon does a good job with its ad, capturing the story of a dog trying to grab the attention of family members.

5.Influencer Marketing Evolution

Influencer marketing has seen a significant evolution in 2023. Brands are now collaborating with micro-influencers with smaller but highly engaged and niche audiences. These micro-influencers often have a more genuine and authentic connection with their followers, leading to higher levels of trust and credibility in the eyes of consumers.

Also, brands focus on long-term partnerships with influencers, fostering more meaningful relationships and mutual brand loyalty. Recently Nykaa took the help of influencer marketing to launch the “Clay it Cool mask range” product. The company collaborated with micro-influencers and influencers who had a genuine interest in beauty and skincare and was a huge success on the internet.

6.Ephemeral Content Strategies

The popularity of ephemeral content on platforms like Instagram Stories and Snapchat has soared in 2023. Brands are leveraging the temporary nature of these posts to create a sense of urgency and exclusivity among their followers. The short-lived, authentic, and engaging content drives user interactions, increasing brand visibility and customer engagement.

7.Omni-Channel Branding Experience

Seamless and integrated omni channel branding experiences have become necessary for businesses in 2023. With customers transitioning effortlessly between online and offline touchpoints, brands must maintain consistent messaging, design, and customer service across all platforms.

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8.Sustainability As A Core Brand Value

In 2023, sustainability has transcended being just a buzzword and has become an integral part of branding strategies. Consumers are increasingly conscious of their environmental impact and expect brands to share their values.

Companies that prioritize sustainable practices and communicate their efforts transparently gain a competitive edge and attract a growing segment of environmentally-aware customers. One of the finest examples of sustainability is Tesla, as everyone knows about its electric vehicle, and sustainability plays a major role in its existence.

Conclusion

Purpose-driven strategies, technological innovations, and a focus on authentic connections with customers define the branding phenomenon of 2023. As businesses adapt to the ever-changing landscape, branding will remain a crucial element in gaining a competitive advantage.

By staying attuned to their target audience’s evolving needs and desires, brands can forge a path of success and make an indelible mark on the business world. You can contact Pixenite for all your branding needs. We are a reliable branding agency in Ahmedabad.

Article Source : https://www.pixenite.com/what-are-some-top-branding-phenomena-till-now-in-2023/

#BrandingService #BrandingAgency #Pixenite

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pawsandmes · 1 year

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The Ultimate Guide to Choosing a Professional Dog Groomer

To maintain their pets' health and beauty, many dog owners rely on the services of a professional styling service or a groomer with the appropriate training. Finding appropriate and compatible grooming for your pet can be as tough as selecting the right and compatible person to trim or style your hair or do other grooming services for you, in terms of personality, cost, and level of satisfaction. Naturally, there will be differences between the many pet grooming service providers. Until you and your dog have attended a particular salon multiple times, you may not be able to determine whether or not they are a good fit for you and your pet.

To assist you to choose the best dog grooming service options near you, we've included some high-level tips below. When the time comes to get your pet groomed, this will help you locate a groomer or potential groomers to try. With most experts recommending a grooming appointment once a month or once every six weeks, you and your dog will have plenty of chances to try out several groomers before you settle on the perfect one. You can do this with the help of our instructions.

Questions to Ask When Deciding on a Pet supplies and groomingService for Your Dog

Grooming services for dogs can be ranked from "excellent" to "best" based on several criteria. The specifics of this depend on the person and the animal in question. Depending on your dog's personality, its grooming demands, and other factors, Groomer A can be the best option for one person, but the worst for another. One can even ask for Bulldog pajamas online.

It should go without saying that any trimming shop or service you use should be licensed and recognized (if required in your region), clean rather than unclean, and staffed by individuals who at the very least have positive attitudes and dispositions towards their profession and the pets they service.

The frequency with which you should groom your pet is determined by factors such as breed, size, coat type, and expectations. Groomers will tell you that it's important to take your dog in for regular visits for its good. The claim is self-serving, yet it's not entirely false: Regular grooming not only keeps Fido clean but also ensures that he will be examined regularly by someone who sees a lot of dogs and can notice any potential health issues. You'll save time and money by not having to take your pet to the groomer as often when its coat is in good shape. (If you wait too long with some breeds, their coats will get too matted to keep, and they will have to go through the complete shave of shame.)

#Pet supplies and grooming #Bulldog pajamas online

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decorishing · 2 years

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[gallery] SOFT AND WARM: Fluffy and soft plush fabric cushion can keep warm and moisture insulation, to ensure your little furry friend surrounded by love & comfort, a perfect lounge spot in daily use. The round shape gives the cats who loves to curl up a sense of security as well as provides a stylish room for cats to snooze or have a good rest. STURDY AND DURABLE: Constructed by 2 layers round with 3 stands, this elevated cat hammock is stable enough to support all kinds of cats. Plastic foot pads are installed at the bottom to prevent slipping. The large comfortable sitting surface ensures that the cat is free to move. Powerful Velcro make sure the hammock keeps firmness to surround the circle. DETACHABLE AND WASHABLE: The detachable-design hammock is easy for clean up & care. Simply machine or hand wash the plush part in cold and tumble dry low or air dry. Very easy to store. Just fold it when you're not using it. VERSATILE DESIGN: Beautiful natural colors and modern design makes this hammock easy to match with any room décor perfectly. The 17.7"L x 17.7"W x15.7"H pet hammock is suitable for all cats, small dogs and other pets like rats or rabbits, up to 22 pound. 100% SATISFACTION GUARANTEED: Our goal is to provide the best quality, and professional customer service both before and after your purchase. 1-Month free return and replacement service-We want our customers to be 100% happy and satisfied. [amz_corss_sell asin="B08DF85QN8"] https://www.decorishing.com/product/savfox-soft-plush-pet-bed-anti-slip-crate-pad-mat-deep-sleep-cozy-calming-self-warming-anti-anxiety-mattress-for-large-medium-small-dog-or-cat-machine-washable-kennel-cage-cushion-36-41/?feed_id=36997&_unique_id=6282a9aae77bd

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dickwheelie · 3 years

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a jonmartin ficlet for @tmafantasyweek, not for any particular prompt, just an idea that struck my fancy.

this was inspired very loosely by @gras-art’s lovely drawings of martin with stars. it’s not the kind of thing I usually write but I had a lot of fun with it so I hope y’all enjoy :)

______________

There was once a man whose job it was to hang the stars in the night sky. If you asked him, he would tell you that he didn’t believe himself to be very good at it, but it was all that he knew.

There was once another man whose job it was to map the constellations. Though it was a simple enough task, for the constellations never changed, the man prided himself on his impeccable work.

One night, the mapmaker awoke to find that the constellations were different from the night before. Irritated and confused, he stomped up to the moon and demanded to speak to the one in charge of the stars.

The starhanger was called, and soon he emerged timidly from his tiny workshop to confront the bristling mapmaker.

“What is the meaning of this?” the mapmaker said, gesturing up at the night sky, where the stars had once been so nicely aligned into neat little columns and rows, but were now scattered, seemingly at random, across the sky. “It’s a mess!”

“Well,” said the starhanger, gathering his courage, “I had thought perhaps it was time for a change. The stars have always been placed just so. But last night, I thought it might be nice to hang them differently.” He looked sidelong at the mapmaker. “You don’t like it?”

“Of course I don’t like it!” said the mapmaker. “You can’t just go around changing the constellations whenever you like. It’s chaos, and in my line of work, chaos is precisely what we are trying to avoid.”

“But doesn’t it get a bit dull, sometimes?” pressed the starhanger. “Mapping the same constellations every night? Look,” he said, pointing at the northwestern part of the sky, “last night I hung those stars in the shape of a dog. Have you ever had the chance to map a dog before?”

The mapmaker was silent. At length, he said, “Well . . . I suppose not . . .”

“It would be a challenge,” said the starhanger.

“I do like a challenge,” said the mapmaker. “The maps are always the same, night after night. It does wear at the skin a bit.”

“Well, that settles it,” said the starhanger, happily retreating back into his workshop. “I’ll keep changing the constellations, and you’ll get to make a brand new map every night.”

Before the mapmaker could say another word, the starhanger had swung the door of his workshop shut, and he was left alone under the suddenly unfamiliar tableau of the night sky.

The following night, the mapmaker awoke to find that once again, the night sky had changed. The dog the starhanger had pointed out was gone, and in its place was a teapot, surrounded by teacups and saucers. Despite himself, the mapmaker found himself eagerly laying out a brand new scroll and setting to work.

By the time the first rays of dawn began to peek over the horizon, the mapmaker had completed his map, and for the first time in a long, long while, went to bed utterly satisfied.

The following few nights were just the same. Every night, the starhanger would hang the stars in unexpected places, and make pictures when the fancy struck him. The teapot became a sailboat, which became a book, which became a cow. The mapmaker found himself waking up each night eagerly anticipating what new thing the starhanger had made, and setting about mapping it with gusto.

One night, the starhanger hung the stars in the shape of a cat. The following morning he was surprised by a knocking at his workshop door. When he peeked out, the mapmaker stood before him, in a much more enthused manner than last time, and said to him, “Cats are my favorite animals.”

“Are they?”

“Yes! I just wanted to thank you for making one. It was wonderful to map.”

The starhanger blinked owlishly at him. “You . . . came up to the moon just to tell me that?”

“Yes,” said the mapmaker, suddenly very self-conscious. “And to tell you . . . you were right. Making a new map every night, it’s been invigorating. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed my job so much.”

“Oh,” said the starhanger, smiling shyly, “well, that’s very good to hear.”

“You won’t stop, will you?” said the mapmaker anxiously.

The starhanger bit back a wide smile. “No, I won’t.”

And indeed he did not. The starhanger, up until then, had been hesitantly experimenting, but now he decided to roll up his sleeves and give the mapmaker a real challenge.

The following night the mapmaker awoke and immediately dove for his workstation when he saw that the sky was patterned with stars in the shape of a massive spiderweb. From horizon to horizon, there was hardly a gap between the threads, and the mapmaker had to work tirelessly to map them all. At the end of the night he collapsed in his chair, utterly exhausted and happier than he had been in years.

The following few nights, the starhanger left off a bit, hanging less intricate but no less beautiful designs. One night the sky was full of swirls and eddies, as one would find in the ocean or perhaps the clouds on a windy day. Another time the starhanger gifted the mapmaker with more cats, slinking and winding their way across the sky.

Indeed, it had grown to be much like gift-giving. The starhanger was no longer thinking of his own satisfaction when he hung the stars, and similarly the mapmaker was no longer thinking of his impeccable record when he mapped them. Instead, they were both thinking of the other.

Then one night, for the first time, the mapmaker was surprised by something new in the night sky: words, spelled out in neat script. The first message, for there would be others, was brief and self-explanatory: Hello MM!

“Hello, Starhanger,” the mapmaker murmured back, as he rolled out a new scroll.

The messages quickly grew more elaborate as the starhanger grew used to writing with the stars.

Lovely night we’re having!

How was your morning?

I’m getting much better at drawing cats, look:

It’s cold on the moon. I hope it isn’t too cold where you are, MM.

Though everyone on earth puzzled over these messages, the mapmaker of course knew they were meant for him. He mapped the messages carefully and reverently, and spent all night imagining how he would reply to them.

One night, the sky read, I’d love to see one of your maps sometime.

The mapmaker wasted no time in taking a trip up to the moon, and showing the starhanger some of the maps he was most proud of.

“This is the one with all the cats,” said the mapmaker. “I really enjoyed making that one.”

“It’s lovely,” said the starhanger, and he meant it. “They all are.”

“You can keep them, if you want,” said the mapmaker.

“All of them?”

“You’ll appreciate them more than I do, I’m sure,” said the mapmaker. He glanced downwards. “And you’ve given me such beautiful things to look at every night. It only makes sense that you should keep the maps I make of them.”

“Oh,” said the starhanger, “thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” said the mapmaker. “The past few months have been the happiest I’ve ever spent.”

“Really?” said the starhanger, warmth blooming in his chest. “Mine, too.”

The following night the sky blazed with hundreds of stars, clustered together to form the shape of a heart. The mapmaker hung that night’s map on the wall of his studio, and traced it with his finger often.

It was around that time that the mapmaker decided to do something utterly unorthodox and possibly terribly foolish, which would likely end in disaster: he decided to make his own map. A map not of the night sky, or of the stars therein, but from the mapmaker’s own imagination. A map without a guide. It was ludicrous, the mapmaker thought, but it was the only way he could think to show the starhanger what he wished to show him.

It took many weeks, as the mapmaker used his few spare hours of nighttime to work on his own map, careful not to let his official work drop in quality. It was not easy for him to map stars that were not really there, and many times he considered giving up, but then he reminded himself how beautiful the starhanger’s constellations were, and how hard he worked on them.

“If he can do that every night,” the mapmaker chided himself, “you can do this just this once.”

Finally, more than a month after he had begun his task, the mapmaker sat back and stared at the map he had invented, and found that he was satisfied. Eagerly, impatiently, he made his way back up to the moon, and knocked at the starhanger’s workshop door.

The starhanger’s face was like a star all on its own with how brightly he greeted him. “What brings you up here, unannounced?” he asked.

The mapmaker, who was holding the map behind his back, unrolled it with a flair and presented it to the starhanger. “This is for you,” he said.

The starhanger took it carefully. It was a map of the stars, yes, but not based on anything the starhanger had made. It was something new, with imaginary stars scrawled across an imaginary sky.

“I made it for you,” said the mapmaker, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I didn’t know how else to explain.”

The stars on the map formed the shape of a heart, to match the one the starhanger had made for the mapmaker (though this one was a bit more wobbly). Inside the heart, the starhanger could make out many different constellations he had gifted the mapmaker, the dog and the cat and the sailboat, among others. And in the very center of the heart, in wobbly, uncertain script, the stars spelled out, Thank you, Starhanger.

A tear formed at the corner of the starhanger’s eye. “Oh, Mapmaker,” he said, and could think of no more words.

“Do you like it?” the mapmaker asked, wringing his hands.

“Of course I like it,” the starhanger laughed, wiping at his eye. “I love it. It’s your best work, by far, I think.”

“Oh,” said the mapmaker, visibly relaxing. “Well, that’s good then.” And he pulled the starhanger into a hug.

The following night, the mapmaker awoke, looked up at the night sky, laughed, and blushed all the way to his ears. Up in the sky was a single, simple message, of only three words, and though the mapmaker had no trouble mapping it out, he lingered on the constellation long after dawn.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartin #TMAFantasyWeek #gwyneth writes #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #very weird using those tags when their names aren't even mentioned lmao but yall Get It i know

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cyborgqueenkelly · 3 years

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Spoiler review of 11x07

I find it interesting that the 2 worst episodes with the Reapers were the ones that weren't spoiled ahead of time.

This was such a mess. I'm still angry about that stupid, stupid Gabriel scene. Complete and utter nonsense. I'm not even that mad about Gabe not killing the dude. I'm just pissed AS HELL at how pointless that scene was. Like....wanting to break shit levels of pissed off.

God, I hate these Reapers so much. They are an absolute snoozefest and so unnecessary. Pope, Leah, and the rest of the gang bore me to tears and it's just awful knowing that they really serve no greater purpose. As I said a while back, this is like the garbage people all over again. They eventually gave Jadis/Anne a bigger purpose, but they basically existed to fill space and time. Now it's like they resurrected them, took them to a church, fed them after midnight, and now they're the reapers.

I honestly didn't hate the Maggie/Negan stuff nearly as much as most. I honestly genuinely enjoyed both of them. Which is surprising, because I haven't enjoyed Maggie since season 7.

I was surprised that Elijah seeing his sister made me as emotional as it did.

The CW stuff was meh for me this week, except for Eugene. I got so much satisfaction out of seeing him punch Sebastian in the face. They really nailed it with the casting for Sebastian. Even if I had never read the comic, it would've taken me about 2 seconds to despise this douche.

As for the Leah stuff, I've always felt that there would be some level of redemption for her. I don't think she's a good person. I think she has feelings for Daryl, and I think a big part of her not killing the entire family was that she couldn't do it in front of Daryl. Not necessarily that she suddenly wanted to show mercy toward someone. I think we're seeing her loyalty toward her family greatly diminishing now that he's there. She knows they're in bad shape and unstable, Pope is erratic, and Daryl could be a safer bet for her than her own group. She's self-serving and at this point, I absolutely believe she'd choose herself over her "family".

...which is why I still think it's gonna go one of two ways with her: She's going to help Daryl go against them, only to choose to die along with them...OR...she actually ends up coming back with Daryl, only to completely lose her shit when he doesn't want to be with her romantically. She helped him kill her family and now there's nothing in it for her? No way she wouldn't go absolute apeshit.

I thought the previews were interesting...There've been those pics floating around of Melissa with some of the reaper actors. I wonder if there's still hope for her ending up there. Combining that speculation with the fact that they reminded us in this episode that Dog is still there has me VERY intrigued. If she did end up there and Dog saw her....That could certainly cause a major issue.

Anyway, it's a shame that we had two fantastic episodes in a row, only to get punished with this absolute bullshit that is the reapers. I've seen LyCo and RC be MUCH better, acting wise, and I think NR has actually gotten worlds better since AK took over. So part of me wonders if the acting is subpar because none of them are into this storyline at all.

UPDATE: The more I think about it, the more I think Dog is gonna end up outing Daryl somehow.

#twd spoilers #twduniverse #twdfamily #twd caryl #twd 11x07 #twd season 11 #carol peletier #queen carol #caryl

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

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AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Pasteles de Gloria (part 3)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: T for mature themes (mentions of sex and violence)

Summary: Javier thanks you...appropriately, this time. Connie and Javier have a chat <3

Tags: Mention of blood. Reader starts to have Thots (same, girl)

Word count: 3,740

A/N: So their POVs in this chapter overlap a little bit...sorry if that throws anyone off, I’m still getting used to writing reader insert fics. The dessert and the Spanish are explained at the end :) Enjoy!

Masterlist

You hadn’t seen Javier in over a week. The first few days after that conversation had been a whirlwind of emotions- worry over whether you’d said the right things, hope that he might feel the same (plus fear that he wouldn’t), and eventually anger at his total lack of response. Until Connie told you that he and Steve had been sent on some mission.

“Nothing dangerous, but they’ll be gone for a few days. Javi must not have gotten the chance to say goodbye.” Uttered without a second’s hesitation, like it was unthinkable that Javier wouldn’t have explained himself to you if he could.

Maybe Connie knew something you didn’t.

So another several days had passed, with worry becoming the dominant theme; all your other initial feelings faded into the background as you wondered how ‘not dangerous’ DEA work could really be.

You’re settling in for another restless evening when there’s a rap on the door. Your nerves leap and jangle- you aren’t supposed to being seeing Connie again until tomorrow, so who…?

You peer through the cracked door before wrenching it open the rest of the way, your heart roaring in your ears. Javier Peña stands before you. He holds a bottle in one hand and a paper bag in the other, and looks uncharacteristically nervous. You forget you’re theoretically supposed to be upset with him as you stare at each other, wide-eyed.

He clears his throat. “Hey. Uh, sorry I disappeared on you. Boss sent me and Steve on a mission, I had to leave from work.” So Connie had been right on both accounts. He hadn’t had time to call you, and he would have if he could.

When you wait, he continues. “I thought, since I interrupted your evening the last time I was here, I could make it up to you.” He holds up the bottle, which you’re surprised to recall is indeed the same wine that you had opened the night he came to your place after reopening his wound.

You look at him in wonder, but he’s not finished. “Also, well...I can’t bake for shit, but I know somewhere that can. You ever had a pastel de gloria?” He lifts the paper bag, cracks a small, still-nervous grin.

“I haven’t,” you confirm, an answering smile growing on your face, touched by the sweetness of his gesture and the implications it holds.

“Well, you can try them tonight, because-” his confidence apparently bolstered by your response, he holds the bottle out to you, brow quirking in request. You take it, bemused at the prospect of there still being more to his plan, and he digs something out of his back pocket with an air of presentation. “-I found the sequel to a certain movie while at a market recently. I was going to bring it to Steve and Connie’s but...now seemed like a better time to watch it.”

You almost laugh out loud as you take in the cover of the tape in his hand. It’s the sequel to that movie night travesty, all right. That Javier would do all of this...you hardly know what to say.

You hope whatever expression is on your face is saying it for you, though, as you look up at him. “Thank you, Javier. This is...amazing.” And it is, much more so than would have been necessary to thank you for helping with his leg, or to make up for his unplanned disappearance after you turned down his proposition.

He chuckles, looking down in embarrassment. “You don’t actually have to watch this shit movie if you don’t want to. That part was just a joke.” You could swear he’s blushing, the faintest tinge of color in his cheeks beneath the white hallway lights. “But you should try these pastries, because they are something else.” He offers you the bag, his body shifting sideways slightly, as if he intends to hand off his gifts and then disappear. As if his wide, guileless, puppy dog eyes and the unconscious pout to his lips weren’t begging otherwise.

Well. “Of course I want to watch this shit movie, Javi. As long as you watch it with me.” You give him a teasing grin. “It was much more fun with a spoilsport.”

Relief spills over his features, washing the tension from his shoulders and the breath from his lungs. Turning away toward the kitchen, you miss the true extent of it, leaving the door open for him as you head back inside. “Bring those to the couch, I’ll get us some plates,” you call over your shoulder.

Javier follows more slowly, collecting himself. By the time you join him in the living room, carrying, plates, wine glasses, and napkins, he’s fiddling with your VCR. You pour the wine while he sets it up, although you find yourself distracted by the shifting valleys of muscle in his back beneath his tight-fitting shirt, the bottle in your hands suspended uselessly above a glass. You curse as you almost spill.

“Everything okay?” Javi joins you on the couch, a careful, hesitant distance away.

“Of course!” You’re quick to assure him. “Now, tell me about these pastries,” you urge, eyes sparkling. He unloads them onto a plate, stacking rounded pastries into a rough pyramid, each one golden brown, sprinkled with sugar, and the size of a small fist. His voice softens as he tells you about the bakery and the older woman who runs it, who insists everyone call her ‘abuela’, even grown men and gringos like him. How he discovered it entirely by accident one day, following his nose.

“The filling is usually pasta de guayaba- guava paste- but they can also have arequipe, or cheese, or all three. She gave me a some extras, so I’m not sure which ones are which here,” he says, suddenly brusque. He gestures for you to take one first, a look on his face you can’t quite identify.

You’re definitely at risk of drooling as you pick up a pastel, Javier watching you intently. Puff pastry flakes over your plate as you take a bite.

And close your eyes in relish. A trio of flavors oozes over your tongue, each complementing the other, all of them ensconced in a sheath of sugary, flakey pastry. The creamy, neutral tang of the cheese mellowing the tart-sweet burst of fruity guava, both flavors coated in the thick, sticky-sweet burnt sugar taste of dulce de leche.

Swallowing, your eyes pop wide to look at Javier again. It’s a near-physical reaction he has to your sudden attention, an almost-flinch away from it as he awaits your verdict.

“Javier.” Your voice is serious. With slow deliberance, you lean toward him intently, reaching out to rest your hand on his forearm. You let the anticipation s t r e t c h.

“You have got to tell me how to make these.”

The breath leaves him in a rush, a huff of relief and and laughter at your dramatics. He’s hyper-aware of your hand on his skin- the casual touch reverberates through him in a way he should probably be more concerned about. It’s the first time you’ve touched him for non-medical reasons, but it heals him all the same; he feels warm, something inside him yielding in your presence.

He clears his throat. “Like I said, I can’t bake for shit. But...I can ask the abuela.” His free hand rubs at his neck, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt. The movement draws your attention, and your gaze continues lower, to the two buttons he seems to perpetually leave undone. The smooth, flushed skin beneath. Was it warm in here?

You stand abruptly. “Is it warm in here? I’ll flip the fan on. You want to press play?” You throw him a quick smile as you cross the room to the wall switch. You flip off the overhead light while you’re there, leaving just the tall floor lamp casting a bright but cozy glow.

Javi obliges, the space dimming briefly as the opening sequence begins. You plop back down on the sofa, deliberately settling slightly closer to him- friends distance away. Handing him a wine glass, you raise yours expectantly. “¡Salud!” you beam.

Despite your cheer, you feel a trickle of nervous anticipation. What shape would your relationship take with only the two of you to guide it? You’d never been alone alone together for the express purpose of just hanging out.

Javier clinks his glass with yours. “Salud,” he murmurs, his eyes crinkling upward slightly.

You order yourself to stop getting in your head. Humming around a mouthful of plum-purple wine, you set down the glass in favor of your plate, loading it with several more pastels. Blissful satisfaction fills you as a second bite confirms their perfection, and you lick sugar off your lips with a happy sigh. Beside you, Javi’s empty fingers twitch. He takes a large gulp of wine.

The movie rapidly proves to be of the same ‘quality’ as its parent. Just as quickly, you realize you didn’t need to worry about getting on with Javier. You end up having great fun at the film’s expense, frequently pausing it so Javi can explain in more detail why this or that would never happen in real life. It’s fascinating hearing him speak with such confidence, observing the minute ripples of his face as it contorts in thought. Despite his superior knowledge, he’s never condescending toward you, listening patiently to your questions and trying to answer in ways you can relate to. He sneers freely at the characters onscreen though, and you can completely picture him sitting at a one of those government conference tables, telling some poor bastard how bad his ideas are with his trademark dismissive, deadpan attitude.

There are other fascinating things about him, too. Like the way his short shirtsleeves to stretch over his arm muscles, subtle but visible, highlighted by the room’s long shadows. Like the tempting cords of his neck when he tips his head back to drink. Like more of his self-conscious glances, when he bites into a pastel and crumbs and sugar cling to his mustache. He hurriedly swipes his palm down the hairs, but you’ve caught him from the corner of your eye. You press your lips together to smother a giggle, but when he glides his tongue over his lip to catch any stray bits, your smile fades as your stomach swoops. You can sense him regarding you again as you fix your gaze on the tv. You wish you knew what was going on in his head.

Too soon the movie ends. The credits roll, but Javier shows no signs of leaving, leisurely taking out a pack of cigarettes and tapping it against his hand. “Do you mind?” he checks.

You wrinkle your nose but allow it. “As long as you do it at the window.” You stand, leaving Javi still seated, and spread your arms in a stretch, attempting to blink away some of the sleepy wine haze. “Be right back,” you tell him, taking the opportunity for a bathroom break.

After, however, before crossing the kitchen to rejoin him, you pause on the threshold of the hall. Your head tilts as you run your gaze over his unguarded stature. Javier leans against the window’s edge, his head and torso turned to exhale smoke out into the night. It doesn’t all escape immediately, gray twisting in the air around his profile, and you lose yourself in the brooding picture he paints. He believes he’s alone, but doesn’t look like he’s enjoying a peaceful smoke break- more like he’s weighed down by his thoughts, his eyes sweeping over the street without taking it in. Doesn’t he have anyone to share his burdens with?

You shuffle your feet loudly before you turn the corner, revealing your presence so he can react accordingly. As you approach, he stubs out his cigarette on the narrow sill and turns to face you, his shoulders relaxing.

“I thought of something else about that last scene,” he greets, and you’re happy to let him go on about the film, savoring the rich timbre of his voice. You talk for a little while longer, lounging by the window. He asks you more about yourself now, and you haltingly tell him about your background, how you came to arrive in Columbia. He drinks in every word, and you get the feeling he’s storing this all away, ready to reference later. As if he intends for there to be a later.

Finally it comes up. Your last interaction. “Look, I’m sorry about last time,” Javier begins. “When I, you know-” he nods jerkily in lieu of saying “tried to seduce you” out loud. “I, uh. I don’t know what I was thinking.” His gaze drops the same way it did when he was withholding how he got the cut on his leg.

You thought you had understood some of his thought process, but maybe there was more to it. “I think you do,” you disagree wryly. One shoulder lifts in a shrug. “But it’s okay, Javier. I just...didn’t want you to sleep with me just because you felt like you owed me.”

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze, yours ranging over his face and chest, searching for a reaction to what you’ve left unspoken. That you may well want him to sleep with you, but only because he actually wants to, wants you, specifically. Javier is smart, and clearly experienced with women- there’s no way he’ll miss the implication.

The longer you hold his gaze, the more clearly you see his thoughts churning, turning over everything that’s occurred between you and what it might mean, with all the analytical precision his career requires. That’s who you’ve been seeing, you realize, every time his provocative persona misses its mark with you- Agent Peña, the man who puts up a shield of derisive disdain so no one gets too close, so no one wants to. Until someone comes along who says fuck that, for whatever reasons of their own- like Steve, who demanded that Javi let him in as much as he could stand to because they’re partners, damn it, for better or for worse. Like Connie, who informed him that your well-being is important to my husband’s, so by god, you’re going to let me care about you. Like you- his neighbor and wallmate who, despite being faced with Agent Peña's rakish side, could see that there was more under the surface than just blood oozing from a knife wound.

As if realizing the window this moment is giving you, Javier shakes himself free of it, pushing off the wall. “Well, I won’t keep you up any longer,” he says gruffly. “Thanks for...this.” He gestures to the coffee table behind the couch you’re leaning on, the silent tv static jittering on the wine and pastries.

You stand too, unhurried. “Thank you, Javier. For the company, as well,” you say with sincerity.

He nods, seeming torn, perpetually caught in some internal struggle around you. Finally, he says a single word in farewell, his voice a low caress: “Vecinita.”

He starts for the door without waiting for a reply. Blinking in surprise, you spin in place. “Buenas noches, Javi,” you call, hoping your understanding reaches him.

You think it does, because he pauses for a second with his hand on the doorknob; before, with a last glance, exiting, leaving the hope kindling in your chest as the only proof it really happened.

Javier has a hard time focusing at work the next day. He and Steve have a lot of paperwork to get through, mostly material from their recent mission, but every time he shifts in his shitty desk chair he remembers how comfortable your couch was. How at ease you seemed sitting next to him on it. How badly he wanted to reach out to you, see if you felt as soft as you looked in that setting.

“Fuck,” he swears. The paper in his hand is the same one he’s been staring at for the past ten minutes.

Huffing, he shoves his work aside, snatches up his jacket, and heads home early. But his apartment offers even fewer distractions, so with a growl of frustration, he downs a whiskey and stalks back to the door.

Only to be stopped in his tracks by Connie, standing on his stoop with a coffee pot in hand. She looks startled by his sudden appearance, her fist still raised to knock.

“Hi, Javi. I heard you get back a little while ago, and I haven’t seen you since you and Steve returned. I thought we could catch up.” She speaks tentatively, clearly wary of his black scowl and riled energy.

“Did she send you?” he asks, eyes narrowing, jutting his chin to indicate your door.

Connie frowns in confusion. “No, I won’t be seeing her for a a day or three. She’s got an intensive-care patient at the hospital who needs around-the-clock attention.” Her own eyes narrow. “Should she have sent me? Did you do something?”

“No,” Javier retorts curtly. “Just- didn’t know if this was brought on by some of your gossip, is all.” Resigned to his interrogation, he steps back, opening the door for her.

Connie continues to glare suspiciously as she passes, but heads into his kitchen nonetheless, getting out sugar and mugs in a familiar ritual. She knew better than to bother checking the fridge for milk.

Once seated in the dining room, however, she doesn’t pry any further about you, or what he may have done, only continuing a previous line of conversation from their last chat. It helps, but as she gets caught up telling some work story, Javier’s attention drifts again.

He inhales from the cigarette between his fingers, remembering the taste of the one last night, filtering through the flavors of cherry-dark wine and sugar-encrusted pastry. He had tried to keep some figurative distance between the two of you, but you didn’t seem to want it, closing the gaps with questions, always looking so damn interested when the answers pertained to him or his life. Were you that fascinated by all your ‘friends’?

Javi doesn’t notice that Connie is scrutinizing him again, just like he hadn’t noticed that she’s been silent for the past minute.

“What’s she doing up there?” Connie asks loudly.

Javier chokes mid-drag, and a wicked smirk overtakes her face.

“What,” he croaks, trying desperately not to look guilty.

“Your neighbor,” Connie clarifies. “That’s what you’re thinking about, right?” She looks far too smug with herself.

“Hah,” Javier scoffs, trying to ignore the shivery goosebumps at someone calling you ‘his’. Buying time, he takes another long drag, letting it numb the sting from his cough.

Sometimes he wondered why he let himself get sucked into these coffee chats. They so rarely seemed to go well for him.

“Come on, Javier,” Connie coaxes. “I know there’s something between you two. Do you wanna talk about it?” A genuine offer, not just merciless teasing. She’s managed to wipe most of the mirth from her face, leaving a sympathetic expression behind.

He rubs his thumb along his mustache as he sighs a long stream of smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know what’s between us,” he finally says. “I’m not- I don’t do relationships.”

He isn’t sure he remembers how to. Nothing about his life here is suited to them- it’s intense, harsh, dangerous. Not to mention his network of CIs, who he pays for sex as well as information.

“Why not?” Connie asks simply.

A glance at her face tells Javier that it’s a serious question. He snorts. Lounging back in his chair, he raises a contemptuous eyebrow at her. “You can’t honestly tell me the DEA lifestyle is helping your marriage.”

Her face tightens, and he feels a pang of guilt. But he resolutely pushes it away- Connie knows who he is, she asked for this conversation- “My marriage isn’t up for discussion here,” she says evenly. “And besides, don’t you think that’s something for her to decide? She knows what you do, she sees you almost every day. She told me she was helping you with something- do you think she’d let herself get close to you if she was scared of your ‘lifestyle’?”

He doesn’t let it show how deeply her word affects him; but like ink dropping into water, he feels a ripple of shock. The change of color as his thoughts cloud, churn with sudden optimism. Because Connie was right, you had helped him- with a fucking secret stab wound, for christ’s sake. You’d already seen the blood and the secrets, understood that his life came with risks- and helped him without further explanation.

Javier brings the cigarette to his lips again without tasting it, unseeing gaze fixed ahead. Possible though it is that you’re not put off by the danger which hounds him, it still doesn’t mean you want to be more than friends. That was what you’d said, right? ‘Friends are a thing people have.’

But there was also what you hadn’t said last night. That- as long as it was for reasons other than feeling like he owed you- he was allowed to want to sleep with you.

Suddenly he slumps forward onto his elbows, sighing. The wrinkles on his forehead ache as he smooths his thumb over them. “I don��t know how close she wants to get,” Javi mumbles. He might be experienced at sex with women, but forming conections based on what was beneath the skin...well, not only was he rusty, but it required a frankly terrifying amount of vulnerability that he wasn’t sure he was up for.

Connie softens. “Listen, Javi, I saw the way she was looking at you during movie night. She’s interested in you, no matter how much you think she does or doesn’t know. Just- see what happens, or…ask her.” With her last words she shrugs matter-of-factly, content to drop the subject now that she’s delivered her thoughts.

His lips twist, the only begrudging acknowledgement he gives as he reflects on this. He picks up his mug and swirls the dregs of the coffee his friend had poured for him- black, like he usually takes it. He takes a sip.

For the first time, he thinks it could use a little sugar.

A/N: Get it, because he needs some of READER’S sugar AYOOOO...I’ll leave now lmao.

Spanish note for the less linguistically inclined: ‘Vecinita’ is the word ‘Vecina’ (Neighbor) plus the suffix ‘-ita’, which is attached to words as a way of describing them as ‘small’. So literally translated it says ‘little (feminine) neighbor’, but! This suffix is also used to say things in an affectionate way, so you could put it on the end of someone’s name (ie Pedrito <3), or on the end of another noun to indicate a nickname. (Disclaimer, I only speak Italian, but it has this same concept, so I think I did it right. Someone pls tell me if I did not). It’s used very casually, so it’s not really as deep as it sounded in Reader and Javi’s moment, but it was deep for Javi okay!!!

The dessert this chapter is named after translates to ‘Gloria pastries’, which according to Google, is a popular Columbian pastry. I have not actually ever encountered one of these personally, but I’ve had all the ingredients individually, so I cannot imagine them not being DELICIOUS all together. Here is a recipe I fully intend to try (it uses mozzarella cheese, but other sources say you can use any plain/white/farmer’s cheese). Guava paste is a really yummy, thick puree (think jam, but thick enough to stay in slab form at room temp) of guava fruit (obvs), which I’ve used in recipes before! I found it in a regular Weis market in central Pennsylvania lmao so I would guess it to be a thing you can find across the US. Arequipe is just another name for dulce de leche. I gotta get me and my sweet tooth to Columbia!!

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #shoutout to my boss for getting sick so I could have the last two days off to finish this #(he's fine tho it's not covid)

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cartasmojadas · 3 years

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Y’all remember that Dirk John AU that I said I wanted to write...well it has taken a turn. Now it reads more like little windows into a budding relationship.

Here’s to childhood friends!

The first time John considers the idea of boys kissing boys he’s in the fourth grade. It is also the last time he plays hide and seek.

“I think I’m too old for hide and seek,” Dirk pushes John’s face away with the hard plastic of the game controller. His older brother is supposed to be picking him up from the sleepover soon, but if the dog-shaped clock on the wall isn’t wrong, Dave is already half an hour late.

John flinches and falls back into the bed. Dirk is willing to ignore him for Rainbow Road but John’s disappointed expression holds his attention.

“You sound like Janey,” John mutters. “Everyone says they’re too old and I’m too little. But you’re only a year older! Stop treating me like I’m a baby!” John kicks his legs around and apologizes when he lands a hit on Dirk’s leg.

Dirk watches John in silence for a moment. His sisters have pointed out that he should try to be less blunt since you catch more flies with honey, not that he’s entirely sure why he’s supposed to catch flies, or how he’s supposed to speak in honey.

“You are a baby.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Dirk knows he has messed up. John’s face drops with a betrayed wail. He quickly tosses a pillow in Dirk’s direction.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Dirk swats the pillow away. He reaches over and ruffles John’s dark hair in an affectionate manner like Dirk’s own older siblings will do to him whenever Dirk is upset.

“It’s cute and fun and it means you get away with lots of stuff.”

John still wears the insult on his face as he scoots to the edge of the bed. Their legs dangle over the edge of the bed and John’s chest twists when he notices that Dirk’s feet already touch the ground.

He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and sighs.

“Yeah, but,” he sighs again, “You’re going to sixth grade next year and then I really will be too little. You’re going to hang out with all of the other big kids and you and Jane are going to forget all about me.”

Dirk scoffs, “I don’t think Jane could forget about you. She’s your sister and you live with her. I’ve tried forgetting about Rose and that’s never worked.”

John lets out a short laugh and Dirk can’t help but smile to himself. He has always thought that John has one of those faces that just doesn’t look right when they’re sad. Like his big sister Roxy. When she gets sad it makes Dirk think that everything is sad.

“Hey,” Dirk says hopping off the bed, “Let’s go play hide and seek.”

Despite John being a terrible hider (or Dirk is too good of a seeker), they have fun. Dirk finds it difficult not to fall into John’s infectious enthusiasm for the game. And while he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Dirk enjoys pretending he’s Detective Conan on the case.

John prefers to hide anyways. Whenever he’s the one looking for Dirk, it takes way too long and makes the game a little boring. John likes the feeling of anticipation that he can’t contain whenever he sees Dirk’s shadow move around and he can hear the light sound of Dirk’s muttering getting closer and closer to wherever John hides.

So when Dirk starts to count John takes off.

He runs as fast as he can through the house and out into the back yard. Dirk said this was the last round and before they play Mario Kart-- John knows he needs to make it count.

His blue sneakers light up green as he hops around assessing a new and ideal hiding location for himself.

The back yard is full of John’s typical hiding spots. There are a few trees and hedges that might work but John has already hidden behind those today. He looks at the dad-approved spots for playing in the backyard and feels the anxious frustration that comes with the pressure of a countdown bubble up.

Dirk is getting closer to the number 100 when John spots a non approved location. The realization makes John feel particularly proud of himself; hiding in a not dad-approved spot behind the tool shed? Dirk will never find him!

John sprints past the scattered and mostly abandoned playground pieces toward the toolshed. It sits under a treelined corner, which hides everything perfectly under the shade of overgrown bushes and machinery. His dad says he should stay away from that side of the house since it is full of sharp and hard metal tools, but John isn’t a baby and he can absolutely handle hiding behind some old walls.

When he sees Jake, John’s first instinct is to drop low and hide. Mostly out of habit, since he feels like the older kids are always hiding something from him but John also hides out of curiosity.

John isn’t entirely sure what is happening. His mind briefly forgets that he’s supposed to be hiding from Dirk, but instead his mind races with questions about what Jake could possibly doing behind the shed.

John shifts his weight and leans over enough to get a better view. His eyes go wide at the sight.

He’s never seen people kiss outside of some movies and for a moment John thinks that they are just whispering really close to each other. It’s not until Jake’s hand moves up and readjusts their angle, that it clicks for John.

Jake is kissing Dave, Dirk’s big brother.

John is halfway to a loud gasp that gets cut off as Dirk covers his mouth with his hand. His eyes are just as wide as John’s and he can’t help but think that it’s the most expressive he’s seen his friend be in a while. John takes in the additionally rare view long enough that he forgets his initial scandal for a moment. He fixates on the bright blush that covers Dirk’s face.

Dirk swallows hard before he looks away from where his brother is kissing John’s older cousin. When he looks down, John is staring at him confused.

He takes John’s hand and as quiet as possible, leads him back toward the house. As soon as their feet touch the bricks of the back patio, both boys sprint into the house tripping over each other and past John’s confused sister, until they reach John’s mess of a bedroom.

“What was that!” John shrieks.

Dirk hushes him and pushes John toward the window. Dirk crouches down so that he can barely look over the window sill.

“Don’t just stand there,” Dirk means to sound annoyed but his voice trails with distraction.

John watches Dirk quietly and wonders what he’s thinking about. He looks a little more like his regular self, compared to the surprised expression from earlier, if not maybe a little bit more serious.

“That was weird right?” John whispers after a moment. “Boys aren’t supposed to kiss boys, right?”

Dirk turns and rests his back against the wall. “I dunno,” he mutters, “Says who?” Dirk stares down at his hands as if in deep thought.

John squints his eyes and tries to remember, “I think Zack, the one in Mr.Jenkin’s class, said so.”

Dirk rolls his eyes, “Zack is an idiot. Don’t listen to what he says. He ate dirt once and didn’t even get paid for it.”

John hums in agreement and sits down next to his friend.

“So, not weird? That your big brother and my cousin were, were kissing?”

Dirk shakes his head slowly, almost as if he’s unsure of his own answer.

“I can’t imagine kissing anybody! So gross.” John huffs.

Dirk spares a cautious glance at John and feels relief when he sees John’s toothy grin.

“I mean, eventually, maybe,” John blushes, “I guess I am too little for kissing,” he taps his forehead and thinks, “But so are you!” he rushes, “You too Dirk, you’re too little to kiss. Just because you’re in fifth grade doesn’t mean you can kiss people. Jake is like, a hundred--”

“He’s sixteen,”

John gasps, “That’s still old! So best bro pact, right now, no kissing! Anyone!”

Dirk stares down at John’s offered pinky. His head is still swimming with rapid-fire questions that his brain tries to catalog as fast as they form.

“Dirk!” John hisses, “Promise!”

There’s something about John’s urgency that clears Dirk’s mind.

“Okay,” Dirk concedes and John beams with satisfaction. “But! You can’t tell anyone about what we saw! Best bro promise! You gotta swear on your signed Stay-Puft action figure.”

In the distance, they can hear someone call for Dirk.

“Only if you promise on your secret my little pony collection that you won’t kiss anybody!”

“Ever?”

“Ever!” John shrieks at the same time Jane calls for Dirk.

Dirk wraps their pinkies together and meets John’s determined eyes one more time.

---

John doesn’t really think about kissing much after that.

And he only ever thinks about boys kissing when Jake comes out a year later.

The dreams where John is the one hiding behind the tool shed kissing a faceless blond boy with warm skin and chapped lips won’t start for a few years.

#DirkJohn #Childhood friends #Homestuck AU #I have variations of this written down in three different notebooks #as much as I wanted to write something that made chronological sense or #at least made sense to the plot of my planned AU #this kept manifesting #anyways...i'm a sucker for stories about friends #i have middle school dirk john also half written in three other notebooks.

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troddensodden · 3 years

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what i immediately think of you based on your favorite fallout 4 companion:

or maybe a better title would have been what i think based on the companion you relate to the most? im not sure that just doesnt have a good ring to it

anyway

- cait: you come across as a violent, or generally brash person, but are good at heart. your violence or harsh tendencies likely have a reason behind them. you probably had something in your past where people who you trusted ended up betraying you, or someone you idolized turned out to be someone completely different. and this had an impact on you, causing you to protect yourself in the easiest way you know—pushing people away. because if you don't have anyone important to you, then you can't go through the same thing again. (or you just like her accent. valid.) just remember, even if some people have hurt you, not everyone will. there are people who care. just let them in. don't be afraid to be vulnerable, that shows that you're truly strong.

- codsworth: you're a pretty sentimental person and struggle to leave the past behind. which, while sweet, may get in your way sometimes. but generally you are a nice person. you like to help people out, but the main source of pleasure you gain from that is the satisfaction of knowing you helped someone, rather than the happiness of just knowing that person was helped. your sentimentality likely originates from some sort of loss, whether big or small. remember, you have people in your corner. you can rely on them.

- curie: either you're into science or philosophy, or you like accents. but most likely you're a pretty sweet person. you like to help people, but it probably ends up being self-sacrificial quite often even if you don't realize it. take care of yourself!! you're important too, the satisfaction of helping other people wont be enough to help you in the long run, and you need to acknowledge that. you probably help people and use that as a scapegoat for someone you weren't able to help well enough, whether that person is you or someone else, and end up overlooking your own needs. prioritize yourself first, allow yourself to be the most important person in your life.

- paladin danse: either you like the military, or you only played the brotherhood storyline so you could have him. also, you probably have some deep-rooted insecurity based in everyone seeing you as different and judging you for it, but you don't do anything to counter it and end up avoiding people as a whole because of it. you may think of other people as too much effort, or too confusing, or generally just not worth it when there are more important things to be done. you look up to those stronger than you, and look down on those weaker than you, and use that to shape yourself. you end up leaving the real you behind, so that maybe other people will think you're just as strong as the people you admire. but you don't have to be strong all the time. its okay.

- deacon: you're secretive. not because you necessarily have anything to hide, but to protect yourself. you may have opened up to someone in the past and then lost them, or been betrayed, and now find it difficult to be honest about yourself. opening up about yourself to anyone is a sign of great trust, and something that doesn't happen often, so you have a hard time doing it at all, but especially after being hurt because of it. you keep your heart close to your chest, and hide it behind humor and lies, because at least you don't have to be honest when you're cracking jokes. a lot of these jokes are probably pretty self-deprecating, a way of venting your struggle without having to truly bare yourself to anybody. but you don't have to lie to keep people around. people will love you just as much if you're true to yourself.

- dogmeat: you're a bit of a lone wolf. whether it's for a serious reason or just a dislike for people, you find it much simpler to be by yourself. you may have trouble trusting people, or even just issues working with people because of conflict. but as much as it may seem easier to just avoid people as a whole, you cant do that forever. if you let people in, and you trust them, they'll trust you too. it will help you out in the long run. (or hey! maybe you just like dogs. thats valid.)

- hancock: you're a very accepting person. you let people open up to you, make yourself a safe space for anyone who might need it. but you don't open yourself up to others, out of fear that maybe they'll see your flaws and leave you. as accepting as you are, you struggle to accept parts of yourself, and assume others wont be able to either. you struggle to think you're good enough, and so instead you make yourself a blank slate in a way, for people to interpret however they want. you disregard yourself, your personality, your past, and try to start anew without actually resolving any of your history. which may work fine for a while, but eventually it will stack up. it never left, you just tucked it away. you need to confront your past before working on the future. accept yourself and others will too.

- maccready: you're also quite a sentimental person, but in another way. you can't leave the past behind, because it changed you. you want things to go back to the way they were, so you can maybe change the way things went, change the things you did, but you can't. furthermore, you find the world immensely unfair, and it is. and as much as you may wish things were different, they arent, and theres nothing you can do now to fix it. whether you want to forget or not, the memories stick with you, and continuously remind you what you "could have done," even if you couldn't truly have changed the outcome. forgive yourself. its okay to remember, but it's not okay to dwell on the past and keep hurting yourself over it. the past happened, but the future is still being built. live your life.

- nick valentine: you're a very giving person, and enjoy helping people. however, you can hold a grudge. whether you or someone important to you was wronged, you won't forget about it until it has been resolved. depending on the severity, a well-done apology can satiate you, but if they did something serious, you won't rest until they get what you think they deserve. not necessarily in a violent sense, but in a general manner. you recognize that the world is corrupt and unfair, and see it as your role to try to bring about some fairness in the world, but sometimes end up stretching yourself too thin. be careful. it's good to care so much about others, but be sure to care for yourself too.

- piper: you likely had to grow up too fast, because of something that happened in your past. because of that, you struggle to truly let loose. you refuse to rely on other people and insist on being self-sufficient, but you also insist on trying to take care of others too, which builds up a lot of stress that you never really learned how to relieve. so instead of taking care of your stress, you absorb yourself in work. additionally, you're very headstrong, and while being persistent is a good thing, it comes back to bite you once in a while. so make sure to be cautious. you need to protect yourself, but you don't need to always be on guard. relax, let loose. you're still young and have life ahead of you.

- preston: you've been at the lowest point in your life and back up again. this low point, though, changed you. the way you thought, the way you acted, the way you cared for people. it changed you, positively and negatively. you've seen and experienced a lot of struggle, and that made you stronger, but it also made you afraid. not afraid of getting hurt, but afraid of not being able to protect those you care about from the strife that you've seen cause the downfall of so many people. you see it as your role to protect people, as something that brings you purpose. you've probably felt that way for a long time though. someone you admired may have gotten hurt and you weren't able to protect them, and you try to make up for it by protecting everyone else. but it's not your responsibility to protect everyone. it's not your fault if you can't. protect yourself first, and find self-worth outside of your work. focus out the present, and everything else will fall into place. its okay to take a break.

- strong: you prioritize yourself over others, to the point where you may end up disregarding other peoples thoughts or feelings because you think yours are more "important." because of this, you are generally a bit judgmental and only think something is worthwhile if it will benefit you. this may originate from some sort of neglect or similar treatment in the past, where you were forces to be self-sufficient. but it is important to be able to prioritize yourself while still being kind to other people. you look down on people who you think are weak, because you were forced to be strong enough to protect yourself. but you should allow yourself to listen to other people, because they'll care about you if you care too. relationships are valuable and important, even if you have only a few of them. be more open to other people, it won't hurt you.

- x6-88: similarly, you may feel a sense of superiority over some people. however, this is likely because you were frequently admired and praised for not showing vulnerability, whether in a physical or emotional sense. you may tend to repress your emotions, out of convenience or fear of having them used against you, which ends up affecting you negatively in the long run for a variety of reasons. for one, emotions will build up, causing stress and general struggle. but also, refusing to open up can harm interpersonal relationships, causing issues with trust, honesty, and more. you may feel relationships aren't worth it, but having people in your corner in a way that's mutually beneficial is very important. vulnerability is a sign of strength, but you were likely taught the opposite, and it's hard to shake something so deeply ingrained. it's a process, but it's worth it. allow yourself to be vulnerable, allow yourself to be protected. you won't disappoint people, it's alright.

#also disclaimer #i wrote this at like midnight so if its messy or inaccurate theres my excuse #another disclaimer i havent ever used some of these companions this is all just based on what i know about them #and for others i was just projecting a lot so sorry if its inaccurate #fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout companions

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iwillbefinewith-god · 3 years

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Skip and Loafer chapter 31:

Shima excitedly holds out his hands for chocolate from Mitsumi as she stares into the chocolate bag to specifically give him a ♡ shaped one. Shima thinks of it as mere obligatory chocolate "for sure" and seems to be slightly bothered/disappointed with a twisted face he makes all while with blushy cheeks.. more signs that point to love...!

I really loved this chapter! (Even though I can't understand most of it and have to infer from the images and google translate's rough translations)

Also, for those that remember in chapter 28 when Shima gets Mitsumi a present for Christmas as thanks for all she's done to help him the past year, he is notably kind of disappointed in a similar way after giving her the gift when she didn't react as the guys made it seem she would. He starts to question a little bit his intentions in giving it to her if only for his self-satisfaction.

And so based on that, I think this last little frame in chapter 31 subtly shows how Shima is noticing his feelings towards her more. Mitsumi has already come to terms with her realization of her love for him but deciding maybe it's not necessary to act on it for now as she's happy with just being able to sit next to him and be friends (and also since she'sso focused on her goals and school while being a little bit of a late bloomer/naive. Also how refreshing is that?? In how many shojo manga (I know this one isnt a shojo but same romcom feel) is the heroine so focused on love we forget they're in school and we start to wonder when are they studying?? Pretty sure that was a gag in gsnk once too. Ok tangent over.)

Anyway, for the upcoming chapters I think we are going to see clear signs of Shima's growing affections in a romantic way for Mistumi although he hasn't fully realized it. This last bit of panels and short inner dialogue with how excited he was for the chocolate even though it wasn't homemade like all her friends had brought in (I love that the author knows when to keep her in character, she easily could have made this generic and had her put in some crazy effort even though she is shown not to be ready for that step, and made this out of character just to provoke something but didnt), he still wanted one.

(Also just love how yet again she sees him as her family dog. I love that the author referenced that point again)

Overall, I'm excited to see where the mangaka takes it as she's done a remarkable job not falling into any cliches with this very sincere and earnest story. (Even if I'm focusing on and excited for points that seem generic for sure, I assure you this is just me being obsessed with how precious all the characters are after reading for so long and now I'm being self indulgent in their super healthy friendship/relationship bc I'm drowning in work and school and need a distraction orz)

#skip and loafer #skip to loafer #skip and loafer ch 31 #romcom #manga #volume 1 comes out in north america august!!#please support the author #i got messy with some parentheses and stuff but ya ive been obsessed lately #ive always loved it but i try to hold back on getting obssessed since theres no chapters translated often #but now im just falling without abandon bc ive been stressed and need the fluff and healingness #skip to loafer chapter 31 #skip and loafer chapter 31

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anntoldst0ries · 3 years

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Lost in Translation

If someone told me a couple of months ago how invested I’d be in OH and the story, I would laugh at them. But here we are, isn’t life full of surprises :)

Apologies for mistakes, if you notice any please feel free to let me know!

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 2,358

Summary: What happens when it’s just Dr Ramsey and his thoughts?

Warnings: None, just a tiny bit of angst & fluff. A lot of introspection!

~~~~~~~

After what felt like the longest shift ever, Dr Ethan Ramsey finally entered his apartment. He closed the door, leaving the whirlwind of his professional life outside.

A biscuit golden retriever jumped at him with all the might in his paws and the sore muscles of a 37-year old diagnostician almost gave up under the pressure of furry ball of fluff.

“I’m happy to see you too, buddy. But you need to go easy on me today.”

Jenner just stared at him with those big black eyes, licked his hand and went back to solving the most important problem of the day: how to cadge some real food, the one hooomans eat.

Although he was far from contemplating whether dogs have what resembles an intelligence (it was someone else’s specialty) he couldn’t help but think Jenner knows. This constantly salivating, instinct-driven creature somehow understands what it is that Ethan asked him to do and why.

“Great, Ramsey. You are going crazy, may as well admit yourself to the psychiatric ward right now. Dr Keller will be delighted to see you. And all the predators of Edenbrook will finally have a proper fodder - Ethan freaking Ramsey has officially freaked out.”

Having poured himself a decent glass of scotch, he stood in front of a giant window overlooking the bay. The waters were quiet and calm, a total contrast to the fire burning inside him after taking a long sip. There was something soothing in the almost painful feeling. 10 years ago downing a whole glass of neat scotch was way beyond his repertoire. One of the perks of being over 35, he guessed. It was scientifically proven that man’s tastebuds change drastically after reaching certain age. He had to admit, there was at least a grain of truth in this. The gold liquid was no longer just bitter and harsh; it had texture, flavour, a complexity - something he wasn’t able to appreciate before. As a doctor, he also knew that he’s got 20, maybe 25 years of this experience left - until ruthless time and ageing will blend all tastes into one.

The lights of the night danced around the spacious living room, their gold reflections creating an aura of mystery in a dimly-lit apartment. He looked around and his gaze landed on antique vase, a present Naveen brought him from Greece for his 35th birthday. It complemented tasteful interior design, expensive decorations and custom furniture perfectly.

As beautiful as they were, all these things made him feel nothing. It was almost ironic that this unquestionably beautiful property, paid for with his own blood, sweat and tears, he couldn’t possibly care less about. Right now, he could have been in some shithole in Roxbury, sipping cheap beer and it would make no difference whatsoever. Except, it would have saved him a mini fortune, which he was now spending on this goddamn penthouse in Beacon Hill. A place he never ever spent more than 4 hours at a time in.

He smirked at the thought - that’s exactly what Naveen said about his own lake house before saying goodbye to his mentee last year. Back when he thought he was going to die soon. Was it surprising? No, everyone was expecting that Ethan will one day take Naveen’s place as the best diagnostician in the world. He considered this not so much an honour, but rather a tribute to his biggest idol, his friend, his father figure. If he was to ever repay Dr Banerji for everything he’s done for him, there was only one way - he needed to be the best among the best.

They called him the best diagnostician of his generation. Although he resented the title, this label given to him by the mutual admiration society (that he had zero respect for), he was very much aware that he was exceptional at his job. Ethan never thought of this as bragging, because bragging made people vain. He liked to think of it as self-confidence, which, as it grew stronger, made him work for his patients even harder than he ever thought possible. The people whose lives he saved, they had to have confidence in him. They had to believe that he knows what he’s doing. And how could he instil a sense of confidence in them, had he not had it himself?

“You can’t give what you don’t have.” - the sentence kept echoing in his head. Tobias used to say that to him all the time, he lived by these words. It was probably the only relic of their once unbreakable (or so they stupidly thought) bond and also the only thing relating to Tobias that didn’t make him want to gag.

So Ethan accepted his role as a successor of the greatest diagnostician in the country. Because there was a mission and a responsibility behind this fate. Because there was a sense of safety in predictable realms of medicine. Also, because… it felt like kicking Tobias right in the crotch. Although he’d never admit this to anyone, least of all himself, the unwritten competition they were subject to for the past 17 years, helped him keep a laser focus on the tasks in front of him. And every time he was able to wipe the smile off Mass Kenmore’s ‘star’ handsome face, Ethan felt satisfaction.

Becoming the man he was today required a lot of changes. He got rid of all the needs of usual Everyman. First, he swept his feelings under the carpet of indifference and cynicism. Then, he learned how to live among people, but without delving into deep and ‘meaningful’ relationships. This was his bauble and he was perfectly… content with it. That is, until it hadn’t been smashed to pieces because something happened to him.

Someone happened to him.

Oh fuck.

He made a desperate attempt to try and stop the inevitable, but it was too late.

His head was instantly flooded with images, followed by ubiquitous tingles that filled his body. In his mind’s eye, a face shaped instantly, the image so vivid that he was almost blinded by it. It’s as if the person was standing right in front of him. The feeling was as mesmerising as it was painful.

Damn it. She didn’t even have to be here to do things to him. To make him see things. Smell things. Hear things. Feel things.

Ethan and The Feelings. This band rarely played together. Ethan wasn’t really a team player and The Feelings were loud, untameable and too unpredictable for the likes of him. He had to learn to tolerate them, because wherever she went, they followed.

He couldn’t rid of her presence, no matter where he was or what he did. Not that he wanted to - he just couldn’t, for the love of god, comprehend all this. Having been a king of self-control and master of his own life, it was beyond Ethan’s understanding how this woman, almost a decade younger than him, managed to turn him into… well, Jenner. He’d do anything she’d ask him to do. He was an electric ride-on, the one they buy for children. And she was holding the remote.

No, this wasn’t the most fortunate comparison. Because an electric toy was not capable of feeling things. And he was. A lot. More than he ever thought possible and more than he wanted to.

The fear of being misapprehended stopped him from telling her that sometimes he hated what she was doing to him. Not her, he could never hate her. He hated this unexplainable power she had over him and wasn’t even fully aware of. It frightened him. That she clawed his composure back so easily. That her youth, enthusiasm and energy were like a tornado to the illusionary beach he used to inhabit in his head. The force of her personality wreaked havoc on the well-oiled cogs of the machine that was once his life.

It took all the strength he had to stay away, from the day he first saw her. No, that’s not right. From the first time he felt her. Ethan’s mind was definitely against him today, because the images materialised within seconds, before he even managed to fully accept the presence of the thought.

He was sitting in his office, wondering why the hell has he agreed to help Harper with reading pages of blabber from wannabe surgeons and doctors. They were all the same and if he got a cent for every time they got under his skin, he’d be a millionaire. But Harper was an old friend and his ex, he had a lot of respect for her. She’d just been promoted to the Chief of Medicine and although she was more than capable to do the job, he understood that transition from theatre to bureaucracy was scary and challenging for her. It was the least he could do to help and certainly a task way easier than being a shoulder to cry on.

Having gone through pages of “I wanna change the world and find a cure for cancer” he almost fell asleep on his desk. Not that there was something wrong with medical research or a quest for deeper meaning of one’s career - but what he read in those applications sounded like an extract from a beauty pageant. And, frankly, when he looked at some of the photos attached to applications, he couldn’t help but think beauty pageants were a better fit for some of these people than a hospital.

“Christ, are they giving away medical degrees for free these days?” He sighed loudly, sending another handful of pages onto the pile of would-be Grey’s as he called them, because he was more than certain that majority of these people derived their idea of work in hospital from the TV series Grey’s Anatomy. All Ethan knew was that he’s never seen anything more divorced from reality, having watched one episode after all the nurses kept chirping about Dr Derek Shepherd for a whole week.

Fully prepared for yet another disappointment, he turned the front page of next file. Looking at him was a young, beautiful woman with raven hair. Her gaze was daring and gentle at the same time. Even though it was just a photo, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked right through him.

Things only got better as he kept going through the next pages. Her application was a riveting read, it was honest, filled with passion and well written, all without being cliche. He saw the most incredible potential, but more importantly, he felt it. She made him feel things, even though he never met her. It was all just pouring from the pages. Ethan would always remember how excited and nervous it made him feel. He almost suffered from a head-on crash with gurney whilst running to Harper’s office, because he had to make sure that she gets the residency position in the hospital. His own feelings played no role here, she simply deserved this position and he knew Dr Emery won’t even question his judgement.

And then he met her.

To be honest, he completely forgot about the interns’ induction, he’s seen so many in his life already that he couldn’t care less. The new case Diagnostics Team took onboard was occupying him completely on that day.

Looking at it now, he couldn’t help but think of one of his favourite movies, Picnic at Hanging Rock. There was this line that he always felt drawn to, but could never fully understand:

“Everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place“

He was walking down the long corridor, when he heard Danny, one of the nurses, screaming. A minute later Ethan was on his knees, next to a woman in her 50s. He figured out quite quickly what was happening to her, but if his diagnosis was correct, he was going to need some help. Having lifted his gaze, he looked for a familiar face. But there was no one around. That’s when he remembered about the stupid intern induction.

“Damn it, where are the doctors?!” - he asked out loud.

“I’m a doctor!” - responded an unfamiliar voice. Ethan turned around and saw a young woman with black hair in fresh scrubs. He never saw her before and figured she must be one of the new interns.

“You, Rookie. Come here!” - he literally wouldn’t mind if she was an actress playing a doctor, he needed an extra pair of hands. Right here, right now. She kneeled on the patient’s left side, her sight piercing him, waiting for instructions. That’s when it hit him.

It was her.

The fate didn’t spare her - Ethan knew as well as she did that having to deal with Hemothorax on your first day was a tricky business. But she was brilliant. A little nervous, yes, but brilliant.

All she needed was a push. That’s why he picked her to pieces, leaving her confused and probably upset. She will understand one day and she will be grateful.

He said what he had to say and then he just disappeared behind the corridor. He couldn’t be around her more than necessary. Because she made him feel. And this was the last thing he needed right now. Or ever.

What the hell?

Dr Ramsey shook his head and woke up from his daydream. He felt his loyal furry companion licking his hand with a pleading gaze. Suddenly, the weight of the thoughts crushed him like a tidal wave, the feeling so intense that his legs instantly turned into Jell-O, forcing him to sit down. That’s exactly what he was afraid of. The moment he’s had a minute, he immediately gave into thoughts. That’s what she was doing to him. Every part of him wanted to take an extra shift, but common sense and medical knowledge prevailed. He needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, otherwise his body would give up soon, making him no use to anyone, especially not all the patients who desperately needed him.

But he was a fool to assume this was going to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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