#wink wink nudge nudge /j

[octoagentmiles]

Hi! I love your analysis posts! So, I have a question: What kind of music do you think the Octonauts (And any Octo agents you want to add) would listen to, and what are their favorite song?

merci beaucoup <33 I have very little actual musical "knowledge"; I just like specific songs that go beep bap boop a specific way, but I'll try my best here—and as for their favourite songs, I'll just name some songs that remind me of them, if that's okay 👍

Barnacles likes accordion of course, so he'd probably enjoy anything that incorporates it. I can see him liking most genres tbh, he's not super picky—but he definitely likes folk and classical, and he LOVES sea shanties—almost more than Kwazii 👀

Dear Fellow Traveler - Sea Wolf

Born For Greatness - Papa Roach

AND:

Leaving London

Lost

Ship In A Bottle

Abandon Ship* (*pretend it's Kwazii singing to him)

They're all from an album by Steffan Argus, and you need to listen to them in order because they tell a story, and the whole thing is so Him fr.

See also:

Bones In The Ocean - The Longest Johns

—if you'd enjoy some Manitoba angst vibes.

Kwazii claims he ONLY listens to the jauntiest of shanties... but the secret truth is that he is pretty picky about them, and about music in general. He has auditory sensory issues, and one off note makes him want to curl up and perish, which is why he gets so upset when the Captain plays anything. As for his REAL taste: basically just Cosmo Sheldrake-core, his own singing, and anything Peso or the Vegimals play/sing.

Every Cosmo Sheldrake song ever, actually; but I recommend Come Along and The Moss the most.

The Villain I Appear To Be - Diamond Jack

Fish In A Birdcage - [band has the same name as the song]

King and Lionheart - Of Monsters And Men

I will not explain any of those- just listen to them and know that I Am Right /lh.

I forget the context, but I remember saying at one point that Shellington enjoys things that are organized and rhythmic (actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure the context was someone sharing their headcanon of him having a music stim with me—so there ya go 👍) so I can fully see him enjoying either electronica, or orchestra. Two very different things, but I rest my case.

Told You So - Nathan Evans

Tardigrade Song - Cosmo Sheldrake (I know I said every CS song belonged to Kwazii, but shh- this one's Shellington's.)

Line Without A Hook - Ricky Montgomery. just based on vibes tbh.

Tweak likes chiptune because I like chiptune and she is just like me fr /hj. Okay but actually she does LOVE electronic music—and any music that's like,, not made with traditional instruments?? Yeah. She likes chaotic music, and likes to jam out to folk with Barnacles because it feels nostalgic to her.

Bottom Of The River - Delta Rae

Crazy = Genius - P!@TD

Curses - The Crane Wives (this is also a Calico Jack song somehow- it fits both of them lol)

Pieces And Parts - Sydney Zarlengo

Sweet Hibiscus Tea - Penelope Scott

Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men BUT it's a duet between her and Barnacles /p

See also:

The Last Shanty - Derina Harvey Band

—for some Manitoba!Tweak vibes.

Dashi listens to nightcore. She also got Peso into it. Honestly I feel like the two of them are both into pretty much anything—Dashi has a preference for pop, and Peso definitely likes symphonies, ballads, and anything that's chill and lofi.

Dashi also listens to hard rock and heavy metal in her spare time, and it disorients the heck out of whoever witnesses it randomly come on in her shuffled playlists. However, the only type of music I can't see Peso liking, is really loud music; like rock or metal—so they're the exact same and polar opposites at the same time 😂

I ALSO always think of Dashi when I listen to Marina—no idea why lol—might be her accent 😅

I don't have many songs for either of em- but here's what I've got:

Peso:

Cold Cold Cold - Cage The Elephant

Anxiety Song - Human Petting Zoo

Dashi:

Right Hand Man - Something Rotten

Hermit The Frog - Marina. just vibes once again.

Inkling:

Dude exclusively listens to oldies, classics, and like,,, Beethoven probably, BUT! I feel like any one of the Octonauts could ask him to listen to anything and he would. He unironically enjoys Kwazii's music.

Octopus' Garden - The Beatles

Vegimals:

They all have ridiculously contrasting tastes; they all probably enjoy the same kind of music as their respective Octonaut counterparts—but aside from that, they mostly just make their own music so they can all be happy.

Get Back Up Again but SPECIFICALLY the version from Disney's Trolls. trust me on this.

(some) Agent songs under cut:

Calico Jack me beloved:

I headcanon that he wrote his own theme song, so he likes shanties for sure; but I feel like as the years went by and he grew as a person, his music and general interests toned down a lot—so now he's more into ballads, and very Lord Huron or Hozier-esque music.

(all the following songs are angsty but they also hit HARD ykwim?? aye 👀 /pos)

Never Love An Anchor - The Crane Wives

Farewell Wanderlust - The Amazing Devil

Problems - Mother Mother

Metaphor - The Crane Wives

Flight Of The Crows - Jhariah

(oh look a non-angsty song–)

That's Life - Frank Sinatra

Natquik my beloved²:

Barnacles 100% got his music taste from him, I cannot be told otherwise. That's all I have to say about him.

Constellations - The Oh Hellos

Snow - Ricky Montgomery

December - Ricky Montgomery

New Discovery - The Crane Wives

Runaway - Aurora

plus bonus:

Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In - Will Wood

Touch-Tone Telephone - Lemon Demon

—to satisfy my personal "I think Natquik deserves to go feral" needs.

Ranger Marsh my belov–:

Exclusively listens to folk and country, and actively refuses to branch out his horizons.

Cicada Days - Will Wood

Swarm Swamp Swim - Cosmo Sheldrake

Birdhouse In My Soul - They Might Be Giants

Tracker:

On one hand, I really like headcanoning that he likes to sing when he's alone—and is actually pretty good; but on the other hand... I think it'd be hilarious if he had unbelievably bland taste in terms of what he enjoys listening to 😂 He has no real preference, so he just lets whoever he's with control the radio. For their sake.

Hold It In - Jukebox The Ghost

I shall not/cannot explain why that song reminds me of him but it does so much-

and I don't have any more for him, RIP ✌️😔 I could probably find some easily if I looked, but I'm lazy ┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌

Paani:

He has weird taste too; but unlike Tracker, he has the most alternative underground music taste you can imagine, and he WILL subject you to it. He eats bugs in a universe of talking bugs, and I think it'd be funny if all of his interests were on the same wavelength lmao. He's just a weirdo (affectionate).

Just like Tracker I probably could find more songs if I actually tried to look—but for now all I have is this:

Water Island - My Singing Monsters

I found it on tiktok and it's literally His Song™ ever fr.

#ask #octonauts #ps every song listed is in my playlist 👀👀👀 #wink wink nudge nudge /j #i have so many more songs for each character it was kinda hard only picking a handful 😅😅 #really exposing my music taste here ain't i #i will never let paani's bug thing go. they need to explain it one day 😭 #until then i'm just gonna continue headcanoning him as a weirdo lmaoo xD #i feel like I've never said the word ''taste'' this many times before #well- ok actually i did make posts abt their favourite foods a while back- #but still hfdfhk it doesn't look like a word anymore 😂 #anyways #golistentomyplaylistokbye- (/nf) #long post

[crawley-fell]

#he looks so damn GOOD #damned good should i say *wink wink nudge nudge* #crowley #good omens #anthony j crowley #good omens 2 #gomens #david tennant #my gifs

[danganronpa96]

Chapter: 5

Motive: Restriction on food.

Victim: Latte Cookie

Killer: L

Reason: L was hungry.

huh I wonder who did it

#me when I become a webcomic genius /j #(also Latte's actual portrait wouldn't have just an X but I'm not gonna spoil the remaining death portraits lole) #anyway this was fun to make #hm I wonder why I'm putting more effort into these maybe it's because I'm not tied down with work anymore #wink wink nudge nudge

[beauxjangles]

why the fuck would I want to escape the ministry? copia better escape ME before I catch his ass. run, little man

#wink wink nudge nudge #/j #ghost band #copia #cardinal copia

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Elizabeth Propaganda

"Her father made a literal *killer robot made to slaughter children* and told her it was a gift for her, only to withhold it without explanation. Being a small child, she was excited and went to see it anyway, which caused the robot to activate and kill the unsuspecting girl. Elizabeth shows very clearly that everything she does is to win the approval of her father, who is implied to have emotionally abused her, and through the graphic novels is shown to *beat* her. Despite this, the (mostly male) fans believe that Elizabeth is a spoiled brat who got what she had coming to her for going against her father's wishes and treat her as a wholeheartedly evil person and an irredeemable, selfish villain. Again, she was a little girl."

Yukari Propaganda

Yukari

propaganda

#round 1 #round 1B #females fucked over tournament #five nights at freddy's #persona 3 #elizabeth afton #yukari takeba #I'm not biased or anything buuuuuuttttt *wink**wink**nudge**nudge* #/j btw

[luckbell-art]

Man, what I would do to become a lolita girlie

#thinking out loud #lolita fashion #lolita coord #sweet lolita #elegant lolita #j fashion #i have like two lolita dresses but that’s about it #wink wink nudge nudge #not art

[istherewifiinhell]

How is smth gonna both well regarded bit of comics history and have a reprint collected edition for purchase but not. You know. Availble for reading

#some shit #wink nudge. you know #i see an ad at the back of a mirage book and i go. well. maybe i should track it down #mr veitch [did the 3 issue demutation arc] and i found it extremely weird and frictional in the way i would love to check out smth else but #like. ew what im gonna buy smth for 'kindle' #but. dark super hero send up thing reacting the the. j@son todd thing. i mean my interest is piqued.

[radiopixelctive]

psst

do u have discord

yes yes i do

#psst psst hey hey hey #it's RadioPixelCtive6555 #wink wink nudge wink 🤙🤙 /j #HEHEJJEKEJKKHHK--

[pyxelthesilly]

Anyone you want to talk to?

”.. I’m not sure. Anyone would be fine I suppose..”

#Wink wink nudge nudge #send in the troops /j

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫

word count: 3.6k

summary: Nico in eye black. That's all.

warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT -> unprotected sex (be responsible!), oral (fem receiving), choking, slight overstimulation but not really, multiple orgasms, slight praise and slight degredation kink

note: the stadium series was three weeks ago, but im still thinking about this so enjoy!

The wind was cold as it bit at the exposed skin of your face, turning your cheeks and nose a dark shade of red. Your hands were clad in your thickest gloves, body bundled in the warmest clothes as you shuffled near the lively group of friends and family beside you. Many were in town for the stadium series game, smiles on their faces as they proudly represented their player. Excitement was filling the air as everyone conversed and waited for the guys to finally walk out.

You were standing near his sister and dad, laughing about something in the story they had been telling you when you felt your phone buzz in your jacket pocket. It was almost time for the guys to come out on the ice for their pictures and for practice, so you assumed that it was Nico sending you his usual selfie with a silly little caption attached to it. You carefully slipped one of your gloves off and grabbed your phone while there was a break in the conversation. 

When you opened to his message, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the black streaks underneath his eyes. You knew he was going to be wearing eye black, he told you so himself, but you didn’t prepare yourself for what he was going to look like with it on. Your pupils were blown slightly wider, lip subtly pulled between your teeth as your gaze stayed on the picture of him. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle nudge into your bicep that you looked away.

“Girl, you’re drooling,” Nicole chuckled, raising her eyebrows at you before she glanced at your phone, “Lucky you. J chose not to wear it.”

“He’s trying to kill me,” You shook your head, your face now flushed from the thoughts passing through your mind.

“Don’t act like you’re complaining,” She teased, bumping into your shoulder with her own.

“Oh, I’m not.”

You fell back into conversation with Nico’s family, slipping your gloves back on over your hands and shoving them into your pockets. Nina was asking about how things had been going between you and her brother, making sure he was treating you the way he should be. You assured her that he was before asking about her own love life, diving into her ventures. She was finishing up a story about her recent date when they announced that the guys were to be walking out in a few minutes, and everyone gathered close to watch.

The sound of music blaring out of the stadium interrupted your conversation, causing everyone’s heads to turn towards the platform they were walking out on. The guys trickled out of the tunnel one by one, but the second your eyes landed on Nico it was like everything and everyone else around him blurred into the background.  He was wearing their game uniform, the team beanie sat on top of head as he walked towards the ice.

Your eyes were focused on him and only him as he slipped the skate covers off and stepped onto the rink, skating around with his friends until he noticed you standing by his family. The two of you made eye contact, him dropping his left eye into a wink before he turned back to the team. You press your thighs together, your heart slamming into your chest as images of him hovering over you flooded your mind.

Nina wasn’t blind to your sudden shift in demeanor, shaking her head as she watches your eyes bashfully dart to the ground in front of you. She was silently thankful her brother had gotten her and their dad their own hotel rooms, and she made a note to not put the key to his apartment he had given her to use tonight. 

Everyone watches as the team gathered around for their team picture, their brief practice starting not much long after they finished them. You joked around with those around you, laughing at Kevin as he skated around with the football helmet on, but there was one thing at the back of your mind the entire time. Just when you thought you had composed yourself, you’d catch a glimpse of Nico and it sent you reeling back to the dirtiest parts of your mind. 

When practice was over and they started to let families and friends onto the ice, you waited with Nina for Nico to get done talking to whoever he needed to. You were a little rusty with your skating abilities, so you often found yourself grasping onto her bicep to keep yourself from falling. You heard his laughter as he skated over to the three of you, his eyes full of amusement as he watches you grasp his sister.

“Versuchst du, mir mein mädchen zu stehlen,” Nico jokes at his sister, playfully narrowing his eyes at her. (Are you stealing my girl?)

“Ich bin das bessere geschwister,” She rolls her eyes. (I am the better sibling.)

Nico stops next to you, grabbing your arm and carefully pulling you into his side as he greets his sister and dad before placing a kiss to your temple. Your arm wraps around his waist to keep yourself steady as you peer up at him, your lip subtly being pulled between your teeth as your eyes dance across his face. He feels your stare on him, and he breaks his gaze away from his dad to look down at you.

“You okay,” He asked, voice quiet as he squeezed your shoulders.

“More than okay,” You giggle as your eyes briefly flit down to the streaks under his eyes to his lips. 

He notices the way your gaze drops, and he raises his eyebrows as a knowing glint sparkles in his eyes. Suddenly he’s hyper aware of the way your bottom lip was red from your teeth and you looked flushed in a different way than the others. He notices the way you swallow thickly the longer you look at him, and he knows exactly what’s going through your mind. 

He leans down, his lips hovering right above your ear as he whispers, “Good thing I got them a hotel, yeah?”

Your eyes dart back up to his, wide and excited as he gives you a smug smirk before he turns back to the others around him. He takes your hand in his own and skates around the rink, the two of you stopping and mingling with the others when he could tell you were getting a little too unsteady. When he has to do something for the media team, you try and skate around on your own, but you end up barreling into Luke and using him as a stabilizer for a while.

The rest of the skate goes by fairly quickly and people slowly begin to filter off the rink to go home and rest before the busy day that followed. You had made your way back to Nico’s family, discussing your plans for tomorrow when he approached the three of you asking if they were ready to go. He helped you off the ice and had you sit on the bench so that he could unlace your skates. 

As you watch him on one knee in front of you, his fingers undoing the tight laces, you can’t help but admire him. Loose strands of his hair had fallen out of his beanie and into his face. His eyelashes were full and long in a way that always made you a teeny bit envious because yours were nowhere near that beautiful. Warmth spread from your core as your gaze lingered on him, and you couldn’t wait to get home.

“Nico,” You called out when he slipped off the other skate, leaning down so you were centimeters away from his face, “Leave the eye black on.”

“Planned on it,” He winked, placing a small kiss to your lips before he pulled away, “I’m going to drop my sister and dad off at the hotel. I’ll see you at home. I love you!”

Time seemed to slow down when you arrived at the apartment, waiting for Nico to walk through the door. You had attempted to pass the time by changing out of your many layers of clothes and into a t-shirt from his closet. Now, you were unloading the dishwasher while you waited. However, you were too engrossed with making sure the dishes were placed the correct way that you missed the sound of the door opening. 

Nico had carefully dropped his bag by the door and slipped his shoes off, keeping his footsteps light and quiet while he approached you from behind. His eyes dragged the length of your body, taking in the way his shirt barely covered the curve of your ass and the way your legs were on full display. The sight alone made his cock twitch in his pants, but he knew he’d get to have his way with you soon.

“Hi,” He whispers as he wraps his arms around your front, pulling you into his chest as you let out a surprised squeal.

“Hi, baby,” You giggled as you further pressed yourself against him, craning your neck so that you were looking at him, “I see you left it on.”

“Of course I did,” He hummed as he spun you around so that your body was facing him, his fingers slipping underneath the material of the shirt, “Anything for you.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes as your eyes danced across his face. Nico’s hands flex on your hips, slightly pulling them into his own as he swipes his tongue across his lips. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, waiting in impatient anticipation for you to make the first move. He watches as your gaze briefly pauses over the ink on his cheeks, your pupils dilating every so subtly before you’re surging forward and slamming your lips against his own. 

His fingers press into the flesh of your hips as he backs you against the counter of the center island. Your hands tangle in his hair, gently pulling and tugging on the strands as you slip your tongue into his mouth, his low groan vibrating against your lips. He slides his hands down to grasp the backside of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you so that you were sitting on the cool marble of the counter.

“Bedroom,” You breath out as he pulls away to kiss along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck.

“No. Right here,” He mumbles, his teeth scraping the column of your throat and one of his hands grazing your inner thigh.

You let him push your thighs apart as he sucks at the skin just below your ear, your head thrown back as soft pants slip through your lips. His fingers ghost over your heat, making you whine out in desperation for his fingers, for his mouth, for him. You feel the rumble of his amusement on your throat before he’s pulling away from you, his gaze dark as he looks down at you.

“Not wearing panties,” He taunts as he cocks his head to the side, “That desperate, are you?”

“Nico,” You groan, your eyes wide and pleading, “I need you, please baby. Please.”

“Good girl,” He murmurs as he slides a finger through your folds, teasing you, “I like when you beg for it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, sending a jolt to your nerves. You can hear the soft thud of his knees hitting the floor, so you force your eyes open to see him slotted between your thighs. He’s looking up at you, smile smug and eyes shining with a wicked glint to them. He drops his gaze to the sight of you dripping in front of him, and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.

The second Nico’s lips brush against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh, your eyes are fluttering closed and you’re tilting your head back in ecstasy. He’s placing a mixture of delicate and open mouthed kisses as he moves closer and closer to your center, lighting the skin on fire in the wake of his touch. You can feel his warm breath hitting your aching pussy, sending your hand flying to tangle in his hair as he briefly flicks eyes back up to you.

He flattens his tongue in between your folds, licking a stripe between them as he grips your thighs with his hands. He brushes against your clit, your moan bouncing off the counter beneath you as you tighten your hold on his hair. You feel his laughter vibrate against you, pleasure burning your nerves as he flicks his tongue against your clit. You’re about to carefully push his face into you, your body yearning for his touch, but it was almost as if he could sense your pathetic desires as he plunges a finger into your hole and attaches his lips to the sensitive nub of nerves.

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he works his finger in sync with his mouth.

Your eyes are screwed shut, one of your hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Nico groans as you tug on his hair,  but he doesn’t stop; he doesn’t even slow down. In fact, he thrusts another one of his fingers inside of you and begins curling them against your walls. The combination of his mouth and his fingers makes the knot in your stomach tighten to the point that it becomes overwhelmingly blissful.

Nico’s movements are unyielding as your cries fill the space around you, your orgasm ripping apart every single nerve in your body as your hand drops from his hair. He keeps his fingers moving inside of you as your juices coat the bottom half of his face. He lets out a satisfied hum against your sensitive core, sending another wave of shock through your body as he pulls his face away and his fingers out of you.

He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you pant, your neck arched backwards as you try to catch your breath and your walls clench around the absence of his fingers. He stands between your legs, the feeling of his bulge pressing against you as he leans towards you to grasp your chin between his fingers. The contact causes your eyes to snap open, meeting his gaze as he brings his fingers up to your mouth.

“Open up, pretty girl,” He instructs, quirking his brow as he taps your cheek..

You drop your jaw, allowing Nico to slide the digits onto your tongue before wrapping your lips around them. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, your gaze unrelenting from his own as you taste yourself. Nico can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the tormenting urge to bury himself inside of you growing by the second.

“Good girl,” He praises as he removes his fingers from your mouth, “Think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” You eagerly nod.

Nico quickly yanks his pants down his legs, smirking to himself when he sees the black smudges on your thighs from the eye black on his face. The marks on your skin drove him crazier than he thought it would, but he didn’t give himself much time to think about it as he kicked his pants away and reached for the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head, letting you help him with his own before the both of you are completely bare.

“Du bist so schön,” Nico breaths out as his eyes drag across your body, drinking in every single centimeter of the skin as if it was the last time he’d see you. (You are so beautiful)

Your cheeks flush at the compliment you heard every single day, eyes darting away from him, but he didn’t let your stare stay away for long. He wraps his large hand around your neck and guides your focus back to him. The ink on his cheeks had faded a little, and with one fleeting glance to your thighs, you could see the remnants contrasting against your skin. It made the warmth in your stomach spread down to your already pulsing core.

“Ready, schatzi,” He tenderly asks, caressing the skin of your neck with his thumb.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod, wiggling your hips towards him as he pumps himself in his hand. He guides himself towards your center, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds as he teases your entrance. You wrap your leg around his hip trying to subtly pull him closer to you, but he’s stronger than you and he doesn’t budge. 

“Be patient,” He chastises, pulling your face to his own by his cautious grip on your neck, “You’ve been a needy slut all night. Rubbing against me in front of my family and team? Looking at me like you wanted me to bend you over in front of everyone?”

“Couldn’t help it,” You whisper as his lips ghost over your own.

“Yeah, I bet you couldn’t,” He chuckled before he slowly pushes himself inside of you, his hand gently squeezing the sides of your throat.

A moan tumbles from your lips as you grasp at his back in an attempt to keep yourself steady, the feeling of Nico’s cock stretching your walls sending you into a dizzying haze. No matter how many times you had sex with him, he had to give you time to adjust to him before he can ruin you the way he really wants to. The sharp pain between your legs slowly dulls until it’s nothing but a pleasurable ache.

Nico knows your body like the back of his hand, and he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re okay; he can feel it. He feels it in the way your entire body relaxes, in the way your walls pulse around him. He slowly thrusts into you, keeping the motion of his hips short and shallow as he gives you a little more time to get used to him, and to tease you. Your fingernails dig in his back as he moves into you at a painfully slow pace, your pleas filling his ears as you beg for more. 

“God, you’re so desperate, aren’t you,” He groans as you clench around him, “Begging for my cock, yeah?”

“I thought you liked it when I beg,” You force out, your voice breaking off into a moan as he roughly snaps his hips against your own.

Nico slams into you, his grunts meshing with your loud moans as your nails scrape against the skin of his back. The pressure on your throat is just enough to make you dizzy, intensifying every single feeling that pumps through your veins. It made your orgasm build in your stomach all over again, this time its intensity was multiplied times ten and absolutely electrifying. Nico can feel the way your walls are fluttering around him as he drives into, and he knows it won’t take long to send you over the edge for the second time. 

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the marble countertops, but it was almost smothered entirely by the noises falling from your lips as Nico drives himself into you. He watches the way your tits bounce with each passing push into you, and the way your face twists in pleasure as he hits deeper into you. His other hand was gripping the back of your thigh, digging into the flesh so hard that it was sure to leave bruises behind.

“Look at you,” Nico taunts, his voice strangled as he feels himself stutter against you, “Taking me like the needy slut you are. Moaning my name for our neighbors to hear, letting everyone know who makes you feel this good.”

You only manage a slew of whimpers and whines in response, your brain foggy with only the thought of you how good he feels inside you. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as the coil in your stomach unravels, your moans morphing into screams as you release your juices all over Nico’s cock. He doesn’t cease his movements as he feels you come undone around him, but he knows he’s not far behind you as he drops his forehead to your shoulder and his hand falls from your neck to slap against the counter.

Incoherent words are pouring out of your mouth as Nico fucks you through your orgasm, the euphoric feeling magnifying as he places open mouthed kisses to your neck. You can feel his hips falter and stutter against you, and he can feel you purposely clench around him, and that’s what sends him spiraling into his own orgasm as his groans reverberate on your skin.

“Nico,” You cry out as his name, using your grip on his back to pull him closer to you as he carefully sinks his teeth into the skin above your collarbone.

You can feel him release himself inside of you, the warm, sticky liquid coating the inside of your thighs as he slowly ceases his motions while still deep inside of you. The two of you pant in sync, trying to catch your breath while you move your hands up to tangle with the hair on the nape of his neck. Nico’s hands had found purchase on your hips as he slightly pulls away from you.

“You’ve got marks from it all over you,” He smirks, his eyes filtering from your neck and down to your thighs, “Guess we need to get those washed off in the shower, yeah?”

not a fan of the ending but i hope you liked it <3

#nico hischier #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier smut #nico hischier x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nico hischier fic

[adascore]

OUT OF THE BLUE | J. FLEMING

pairings: jessie fleming x chelsea!reader

warnings: angst. swearing. crying. jessie’s transfer.

author’s note: inspired by @pixiesfz (fic: moving on) and @jflemings (fic: inevitable), I definitely recommend checking out their versions of the transfer!

masterlist

•••••••

January, 2024

''Yeah, that does sound great. I'll, uh, think about it and call you tomorrow… Okay, thanks… Bye bye.'' Jessie hung up the phone, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She sighed as she glanced back into the living room, her girlfriend sitting on their couch, blissfully unaware of anything.

Y/N wasn't entirely oblivious to Jessie's agent researching new clubs. It had been an ongoing discussion for a while now, fueled by Jessie's frustration with her dwindling game time at Chelsea.

Jessie quietly sat back down on the couch, not wanting to disturb her partner's tv-show.

''Everything okay?'' The Canadian turned her head, finding Y/N's eyes on her.

She nodded, biting her lips. ''Yeah, good… just my agent.'' She replied, trying to mask the turmoil in her voice.

''Any news?'' Y/N asked.

Bless her heart, Jessie thought. Despite not being the biggest fan of no longer getting to be teammates, Y/N had been very supportive of her girlfriend's search, believing her talent was indeed being wasted at Chelsea.

''Uh, nothing new,'' the midfielder lied, ''she's still in talks with a few clubs.''

''Oh, okay.'' The forward smiled, redirecting her focus back to the series she was watching.

Jessie didn't want to lie, she really didn't. However, telling the love of your life that you received a great offer from an American club and that you're really considering it, isn't an easy thing to do. The Canadian tried telling herself she should only tell Y/N when it's official, but Jessie knew from the moment her agent informed her of the option, that this was the right direction for her to go.

Her game time would improve compared to Chelsea's, and Janine and Christine would become her club teammates- she'd be stupid not to accept. But Portland was far from London, and Portland was far away from Y/N, her true home.

She promised herself she would tell her when the time was right, when the offer from the Thorns was official and her future was certain.

''I think she might stay until the end of the season, and then see what her options are.'' Y/N responded to Erin, after the Scot asked about Jessie's future.

Erin nodded. ''Nice, we can give her a proper sendoff then.''

''I'd say a party, but I don't think she would want to be the center of attention.'' Millie chimed in, thinking about how they could celebrate the younger woman's time at Chelsea.

''She'd look more like a tomato than she already does.'' Erin laughed, imagining her fellow midfielder's reaction.

''But it's good that we'll have at least this last season with her. The last match is gonna be emotional, Emma leaving, Jessie leaving…'' Millie said once the laughter had died down.

Y/N nodded her head. ''Yeah, but I just want to see her happy, you know? She loves the team, but, you know, with the game time and everything.''

Both women nodded, understanding Jessie's reasons for wanting to play somewhere else.

''Do you know where she's maybe going?'' Millie asked, curiously.

The younger woman shrugged her shoulders. ''She has plenty of options,'' Y/N grinned proudly, ''I think she's staying in Europe, though- Champions League and all.''

''She's gonna become a rival.'' Erin teased, rubbing her hands together in feigned mischief.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the thought, but the underlying sadness of Jessie's departure lingered in the back of her mind.

''I also see her staying close by, at least near you.'' Millie lightly nudged her teammate's shoulder, sending a wink.

Y/N grinned back, but there was a hint of dejection in her eyes as she glanced at her friends "She's gotta do what's best for her," she said softly, her gaze drifting to the floor, "that's the most important thing.” She murmured.

As Y/N's thoughts lingered on Jessie's impending departure, she was abruptly pulled back to the present by the sound of someone's voice.

''Hey, you're ready to go?'' Jessie asked, her arrival at their table breaking the somber silence that had settled over them.

Amazing timing, Fleming, Y/N thought as her girlfriend approached their table.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jessie, her dejected mood momentarily forgotten as she met her girlfriend's gaze. "Yeah." She replied, her eyes lighting up and a smile gracing her lips.

Her friends exchanged knowing glances, their amusement evident as they observed the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor in the presence of her girlfriend.

Y/N got up from her chair. ''See you tomorrow, beautiful ladies.'' She bid her friends goodbye.

''Tomorrow, love birds.'' ''See ya!''

Jessie silently grabbed her partner's bag from the floor, and the pair walked together to the parking lot.

''They're so adorable it makes me sick.'' Erin muttered.

Millie laughed at her teammate. ''I think you might be allergic.''

As they drove out of the Chelsea training complex, a heavy silence enveloped the couple, weighing down the air in the car. Silences weren't necessarily unusual for them, but there was something about this one that had Y/N feeling confused and worried at the same time.

Glancing sideways at Jessie, Y/N noticed the furrow in her brow, the tension etched into the lines of her face. It was clear that something was bothering her, something she was struggling to articulate.

"Hey, Jess," the striker began hesitantly, breaking the uneasy silence that hung between them, "is everything okay?”

Jessie's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her gaze fixed on the road ahead as she wrestled with her thoughts. ''Yeah, just a bit tired.'' She responded, her voice strained.

Her answer did nothing to soothe her. There was a distance in the Canadian's eyes, a hesitancy in her voice that spoke volumes. "You can talk to me, you know." Y/N said, and she reached out to Jessie's hand.

For a moment, Jessie tensed up at the display of affection. Her breath was caught in her throat as she struggled with what to tell her partner. ''Can we talk about this when we're home? I don't want to have this conversation while I'm driving.'' She asked, momentarily making eye contact with her.

Y/N nodded, though the unease still gnawed at her. "Of course," she replied gently, withdrawing her hand but keeping her gaze fixed on Jessie, "we can talk about it when we get home."

The remainder of the drive passed in an uncomfortable conversation about their thoughts on the training that day.

As they finally pulled into their driveway, Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of the impending conversation sending a wave of anxiety crashing over her. She followed Jessie inside, the heavy silence hanging between them like a dense fog.

Once inside, Y/N took a seat on the couch. Her eyes fixed on the midfielder like a hawk as Jessie paced through the room.

Taking a a few deep breaths to ease herself, Jessie finally broke the silence that had enveloped them. "I... I received an offer." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N perked up at the revelation. ''An offer?'' She repeated. ''That's great, no?'' Her voice tinged with uncertainty.

But as she watched her girlfriend unconsciously shake her head, she knew there was more to the story than Jessie was letting on.

The Canadian hesitated, her gaze shifting to the floor as she struggled to find the right words. "From the Portland Thorns," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible, "they want me to play for them.”

Y/N's heart sank at the news, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. ''Portland?'' She muttered. ''In the U.S.?''

Jessie silently nodded. ''Yeah, the NWSL.'' She confirmed.

Her heart sank even further at the confirmation, the reality of the situation settling in like a heavy weight on her chest. ''Wow… that's, uh, that's amazing- with Janine and Christine, that's really nice, babe.'' She tried to muster a smile, but it felt hollow on her lips.

Despite her attempt to be supportive, the weight of Jessie's decision bore down on Y/N like a heavy burden. The thought of being separated by thousands of miles was something out of a nightmare.

But as she looked at Jessie, her heart ached at the thought of holding her back from pursuing her dreams. She knew that she had to be strong, to support her partner no matter what path she chose.

''Thank you.'' Jessie was unsure of how to proceed, it was clear that her girlfriend wasn't expecting a transfer to the other side of the world. "I... I know this isn't easy," she continued, her voice wavering slightly. "But I have to do what's best for my career.”

Y/N reached out, gently squeezing Jessie's hand. "I know," she replied softly, ''and this is gonna be really good for you.''

''So… you're not upset?''

She shook her head, a forced smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''Of course not. I know you're going to do amazing there, and I'm happy that they are seeing your talent. It's a great club, Jess. And if it means you'll be happier... then I'm all for it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Jessie's eyes as she pulled Y/N into a tight embrace. "I love you." She whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too," Y/N replied, returning the embrace, ''I think you forgot for a moment that I'm, like, your biggest fan.'' She chuckled, tears forming in her own eyes.

Jessie laughed now as well. "How could I forget?" She echoed, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked at Y/N. "You're the best.”

As the evening wore on, the weight of Jessie's decision lingered in the air, casting a somber mood over the apartment. Despite the reassurances they had exchanged, the reality of the situation still hung heavy on their hearts.

A few days later, the time came for Jessie to face her teammates and share the news of her new club. The staff had gathered the team into the meeting room with the excuse they needed to go over some past matches.

''Before we get into some of the matches, there is someone here who has some news for us,'' Emma began, ''Jessie?'' The coach signaled for the Canadian to take her spot at the front of the room.

The midfielder quietly walked towards Emma. ''Hey, everyone,” she awkwardly greeted the room, "I, uh... I have something I need to tell you.” A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned to Jessie.

Y/N's eyes became fixed on the floor, not feeling ready to hear this for a second time.

''I've received an offer from the Portland Thorns,” she said, still a bit on edge, ''and… I've decided to accept it. So this is actually my, uh, last day as a Blue.''

"I... I know this might come as a surprise," Jessie continued, her voice faltering. "you guys are an amazing group, and I'm so lucky to have shared the pitch with such incredible players. All of you will always have a special place in my heart, and, yeah, just thank you for everything.'' She finished her small speech, becoming emotional.

She received applause from the squad and staff in the room. Emma was the first to give her a hug. A flicker of irritation flashed through Y/N at the thought of their coach's role in Jessie's decision to leave, but she pushed it aside, knowing that now was not the time.

All the players got up from their seats to say their own ‘thank you's' or give their own hugs to Jessie. However, the young striker remained seated, finding herself unable to follow her teammates.

With a heavy heart, Y/N quietly rose from her seat, her footsteps barely audible as she made her way towards the door.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she almost went for the door handle. ''You okay?''

Y/N was met with Sam as she turned around, the Australian's face expressing concern over her teammate's exit without having said anything to her girlfriend.

''Yeah, just need the bathroom.'' She replied, quickly.

Sam nodded and let her go, but she was not convinced. The No. 20 shared a look with her captain who had also watched the young woman's escape.

Millie swiftly ruffled the Canadian's hair, before walking over to Sam. ''What was that?''

''I don't know, said she needed the bathroom, but she went before the meeting.'' The experienced striker explained, a furrow in her eyebrows.

''I'll talk to her.'' Turning back to Sam, she offered a reassuring smile before making her way towards the door.

She caught up with Y/N in the hallway, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. "Hey," the Brit said delicately, her voice filled with warmth and understanding. "Mind if we chat for a moment?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze fixed on the floor as she struggled to meet her older teammate's eyes. "Sure." she replied quietly.

She led the younger one to a more secluded area, not wanting anyone to eavesdrop on their more personal moment. Millie's face was full of concern as she turned to her. ''Are you okay? What happened there? Didn't Jessie tell you already?''

''She did, she did… a few days ago.'' She answered, her voice still quiet and full of emotion.

''Then, what's wrong? Why'd you leave?''

Y/N pulled her attention from the ground to Millie's eyes. ''It's just… that, like, it seemed to have only hit me now that she's actually going, you know? She's gonna go to Portland, while I'm staying here in fucking London.''

Millie's expression softened with understanding as she listened to Y/N's words, her heart aching for her younger teammate. ''I get it,'' she put her arm around her, ''it's tough knowing that she'll be so far away, especially when you're used to having her here with you every day.''

The striker nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek as she struggled to contain her emotions. "Yeah," she murmured, ''I'm…'' she trailed off.

''You're what, sweetheart?''

''I'm scared.'' Her voice was small, if her teammate wasn't standing so close to her, she probably would have missed it.

''Of what?'' The captain frowned.

''The distance, I don't think I can handle it, Millie.''

Millie's heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with tears as she wrapped her younger friend in a warm embrace. "I understand," she murmured, offering her a comforting squeeze, "it's okay to be scared. It's a big change. For the both of you.''

Y/N nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she struggled to articulate the depth of her fears. "I... I'm scared of losing her," she admitted softly, ''that she'll forget me while she's there.''

"You won't lose her," she reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity. "Jessie loves you, Y/N. And distance won't change that.”

Y/N sniffled, a small hiccup escaping her as she leaned into Millie's embrace, finding solace in her comforting words. "But what if... what if she meets someone else?" She whispered, her voice tinged with fear.

Millie's grip tightened, her heart breaking at the thought of her friend's pain. "Jessie loves you," she repeated firmly. "And nothing, and I really mean that, nothing will bloody change that.''

''Thanks, Mills.'' Y/N said, her head resting on her shoulder.

''You're welcome, darling. I'm always here for you. And Erin, and Sam, and Guro, Niamh, Z, all of us.'' She reassured her, wanting her to know that they'll stand by her while she goes through this difficult time.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over her at Millie's words. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "I... I really needed to hear that.”

''Anytime, bubs,'' the defender pecked the top of her head, ''I do think you need to tell Jessie this. It's important for her to know how you feel about all this.''

The younger one nodded, taking a moment to compose herself before pulling away from Millie. "You're right," she agreed, her voice a bit steadier now, ''I'll talk to her about it.''

Millie gave her a reassuring smile, her eyes filled with encouragement. ''Great, she'll understand. It's Jessie, remember?'' She chuckled, trying to get a grin out of her friend.

She was successful as Y/N managed to crack a smile. ''Yeah, it's Jessie,'' she straightened her posture as if ready for battle, ''thanks again, Mills. I really appreciate it.''

The defender nodded, the smile on her own face widening. ''You're very welcome, sweetheart.'' She gave Y/N a small pat on the back.

The next evening, they sat together in their dimly lit living room, trying to watch a movie. Y/N glanced over at Jessie, whose eyes were focused on the television.

"Jessie," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, ''can I, uh, talk to you about something?''

The Canadian's brows furrowed in concern as she turned towards her partner. ''Of course.''

Y/N took a deep breath. ''First, I am so happy for you that you're going somewhere where they are appreciating your talent, and that you'll be closer to your family and your siblings...'' she began, her words slow and measured. She paused, struggling to meet Jessie's gaze. ''I just don't think that I, uh, am gonna be able to handle the distance.''

Jessie's stomach twisted with unease as she absorbed her words. In the days since it had become official that she would be moving to Portland, they hadn't really discussed how their relationship would proceed. Each of them had spoken about it with their friends, but they both seemed hesitant to broach the topic with each other, perhaps afraid of the uncertainty it might bring.

''I want to, Jessie, I really want to try- I just want you to know how I feel, it's been bothering me.''

The midfielder found it hard to respond as she observed her girlfriend who looked like she was about to burst out in tears. Tears welled up in Jessie's eyes as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "I understand," she whispered, her voice strained, "and I appreciate you being honest with me.”

Y/N's own eyes started to water. She leaned into Jessie's touch, her heart breaking at the thought of losing her. ''I love you, J Flem.''

''I love you.'' Jessie reciprocated as she took her partner into her arms, wanting her as close as possible.

''I don't know if I can handle being so far apart, not seeing you or speaking to you every day. International break is already a killer for me, and it's difficult to just go back-and-forth between Portland and London.'' The striker whispered into Jessie's neck, not able to say it any louder.

The Canadian nodded, completely understanding her perspective. ''I know,'' she whispered back, 'I never wanted to put you in this position."

For a moment, they simply held each other in silence, the weight of their unspoken fears hanging heavy in the air. But as the minutes ticked by, the reality of their situation became increasingly clear.

''I don't want to hold you back.'' Y/N said, her voice muffled against the fabric of Jessie's shirt.

''You're not holding me back at all.'' Jessie immediately retorted, ruffling her hair.

Y/N weakly chuckled. ''It feels like I am.''

''Please don't think that, babe.''

They were both aware of what was coming, they were simply wasting time as if that would somehow work and they wouldn't have to leave each other.

''I remember when I first joined Chelsea, and I was watching some of you guys' matches, and thinking you were so intimidating,'' Jessie broke the silence.

''but then you were actually one of the first people to say hi to me, and you just looked so different than on the pitch. You were smiling, and trying your best to make me feel welcome.'' She laughed, an affectionate smile playing on her lips.

Y/N grinned as well, while wiping some loose tears away. ''I just remember thinking you looking super awkward.'' She dryly responded.

Jessie gave her a light push. ''Hey!''

''I also thought you were very cute… with your flushed cheeks.'' She quickly added.

The midfielder ironically blushed at the admission.

It became quiet between the two of them again, reminiscing their early days as teammates at Chelsea.

''We'll find our way back to one another, I'm sure of it.'' Jessie nodded.

Y/n felt a lump in her throat at Jessie's words. ''We're still so young, you never know what can happen.''

''And I know what's going to happen. You and I, together- whenever, wherever that may be.'' She reassured her, her voice filled with sincerity.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening with the weight of their impending separation. "I love you, Jessie." She told her, the pair locking eyes.

"I love you too," Jessie replied, her voice catching in her throat, "more than anything."

jessie fleming requests are always welcome!

#jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso fic #chelsea women x reader

[octoagentmiles]

new octonauts news soon like to charge reblog to cast 🔮✨🪄🕯️

#octonauts #i would accept anything at this point #anb s3 promo image when #imagine if they just decide to randomly drop a new movie on us #that would be lovely #*nudging mainframe's arm* *wink wink* /j #i am bored and crave nourishment (content)

[maximumsass]

Green Eyes of Envy Pt. 1

Summary: Melissa and the reader have been teaching for a couple years together and they have a close work friendship. But there’s something that draws them to each other that neither one of them has admitted to themselves or the other. The only problem is they’re both seeing other people. Keep reading to see if they’ll make the safe choice or risk everything to explore what could be.

Writing Inspiration: It sounds like in Season 3 Gary is gonna propose to Melissa. And I am throwing a curve ball into that situation to make all my wlw Schemmenti fans keep hope in their hearts that Schemmenti will end up with a woman.

Author’s Note: Please be gentle with me. This is my first fanfic. And writing is my biggest passion so to say I’m a little sensitive when it comes to my writing is an understatement. I love you all. Please send me requests if you have them. And I’d love to hear your thoughts. Hope you enjoy my lovelies!

Word Count 2.8K

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You had been at Abbott Elementary for two years now. School was just about to start and it was in service week before the classes started. You make it a point to get in early and hopefully get into the routine of that. You walk into the empty break room and start making the first of many coffees throughout your day. Caffeine fueled you to be as high energy as the kiddos. And even though it was only in service you needed the caffeine to get through the sessions without nodding off.

You hear the break room door open and shut, you don’t look up though because you’re too focused on getting your coffee done and ready to inhale. You feel a manicured hand slide up your arm.

“Hey stranger, long time no see.” A certain redhead greets you with a grin.

“Hey Mel, how was your summer?” You look her up and down with a smile.

“Oh you know Gary and I got a place at the Jersey Shore for a couple weeks. That was the big highlight of the summer. Other than that just reading, working on the house, cooking for Gary and my family of course. How was your summer? You look very sun kissed! The sun’s a lucky guy.” She teases you with a wink.

“I went to the south of France with my girlfriend and we spent a lot of time on a boat out at sea. I guess I am a little tan. Be careful Ms. Schemmenti someone might think that you’re flirting with me.” You say with a smirk.

“Who says I’m not flirting with you?” She says in a deep husky voice right in your ear.

You roll your eyes and give her a playful nudge. You two had this unspoken chemistry since the first day you started at Abbott. But she was already with Gary the Vending Machine Guy and shortly after you got together with your girlfriend.

“No but seriously you look great Ms. (Y/L/N).” She says softly as you walk past her towards the door.

“You look pretty great yourself Mel.” You say as you open the door and look back to smile at her.

As you walk back to your classroom you replay the scene between you and Mel just moments before… it felt different. You’ve always found Mel to be drop dead gorgeous and she’s always been unusually sweet to you compared to how she is with the other teachers. If you were being honest with yourself you had feelings for her, but feelings you could never act on because of your girlfriend and Gary and because there’s a high chance she didn’t reciprocate those feelings. The interaction y’all just had was saying otherwise about her feelings towards you. Or you’re overthinking this too much and it really was just her being playful, you let out a big sigh.

“(Y/N)! I have something to share with you! Come into my classroom.” Barb says to you with a big smile.

You walk into the brunette’s classroom as you hear her shut the door. You turn around to look at her.

“What’s the news Barb?” You say with excited curiosity.

“I have been talking with Gary and he said that he’s bought Melissa an engagement ring and is going to propose to her soon! God is good!” She says excitedly with a bright smile.

Your jaw hits the floor, but as soon as it hits you fix it to mirror the smile that Barb has.

“Wow! What great news! They both deserve to be happy and feel loved and if they have that, then I guess it’s meant to be! I’m really happy for them! Our first Abbott proposal and wedding, how exciting!” You say with as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

“I knew you’d be as excited as I am! You were definitely the right choice as the first person I told! You’ll have to help me plan all the wedding stuff for her, I know that you two are close.” Barb says enthusiastically.

“Yeah just let me know whatever you need help with. I want to make this time in her life as special as possible! Thanks for telling me Barb, I appreciate it. I’ll see you in the first session.” You say as you smile and do a little wave as you walk out of her classroom.

You go to the sessions and make a point not to sit by Melissa. After the talk with Barb you physically feel sick, it makes you realize that your feelings towards Melissa aren’t just a playful game but very real. Melissa keeps looking at you, you can tell that she’s confused why you’re not sitting with her. You keep staring at her left hand and picturing her with an engagement ring on. He probably picked out the most basic ass ring for her. That’s all you can think about until you hear the lunch bell ring! Thank god! You can’t get out of there fast enough.

You hear heels behind you but you don’t look back, you can’t face the redhead right now. You get to your classroom and in your classroom is your girlfriend purposefully hiding behind a big bouquet of flowers, you let out a big squeal.

“Oh my god! You did not!!” You exclaim. Your girlfriend sets down the flowers so you can do your infamous jump into her arms as she lifts you up as you wrap your legs around her waist and kiss her. When you finally break away to catch your breath, you put your forehead against hers and gaze into her eyes with the biggest smile.

“I know that in service isn’t your favorite so I wanted to brighten your day a little.” She says with a smile.

“You’re the best girlfriend a girl could ask for!” You exclaim. As you lean in to kiss her again.

Your girlfriend clears her throat when you break away again. “It looks like we have an audience.” She says with an embarrassed smile as she nods towards the door. You look towards the door and standing there looking at you like you’re an exhibit at the zoo is Ava, Barb, Jacob, Janine, Gregory, Mr. Johnson lurking in the background and unfortunately Melissa.

You immediately scramble down from your girlfriend and make your way towards them. “Sorry for the commotion y’all, she just surprised me with flowers and I….”

“Was showing her your unyielding gratitude? Was giving her a preview of what’s going to happen tonight? Or all of the above and then some?” Ava said with a huge smirk.

“Well I am in my classroom and usually I don’t have a handful of busybodies gawking at what I do in my classroom. But I must've missed the memo about today being gawk at Ms. (Y/L/N) day.” You say smirking back, putting them all in there place.

They all mumble their apologies and then scatter. You hear Janine say to Gregory what a sweet thing for your girlfriend to do for you. No doubt making Gregory feel the need to step up his game. The only one left standing there is the redhead, and she looks weirdly pissed.

You give her a confused look. “I’ll see you in the teacher’s lounge in a few minutes Mel.” You give her a nod before shutting your classroom door.

“Sorry for creating the spectacle.” Your girlfriend says as she blushes as you turn back towards her.

“No! Don’t be sorry! I absolutely loved it! I apologize that I work with people who need to live vicariously through my life.” You chuckle.

“I think they’re just happy for you, that you have a woman who romances you during the work day.” She says with a grin.

“I am pretty lucky.” You say as you kiss her softly.

“I should be getting back to work. Glad you love the flowers. Please eat all of your lunch and I’ll see you tonight. Okay?” She says with a loving look towards you.

“Yes ma’am.” You say as you kiss her goodbye. “Have a good rest of your day at work. Love ya.” You say as she heads towards the door.

“You too! Love you more gorgeous.” She stops at the door and blows you a kiss. You grab the air kiss and put it in your pocket.

As she leaves you collect your lunch and make your way to the break room. When you enter you are met with a chorus of ow ow’s and kissing noises.

“I thought this was the week not being with children.” You tease.

“Did you really think we weren’t going to say anything?” Jacob says with a smile

“It was so cute (Y/N)! Gosh don’t you just love, love?” Janine gushes.

“Glad to be y’all’s entertainment for the day.” You say with a chuckle as you sit on the couch.

“We are very happy for you dear. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are and it looks like that young lady knows it!” Barb says to you with a bright smile.

You thank Barb as you look at her your eyes go to Melissa she still looks as pissed as she did outside of your classroom if not more.

You talk with your coworkers as you eat your lunch. You see the redhead get up for another cup of coffee. You need to ask her what’s up. You go next to the coffee machine and lean into her so only she can hear you.

“What is up with you? It looks like someone kicked your dog.” You say quietly.

“I’m fine. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The redhead quips at you.

“Well you should really tell your face that because it’s telling a different story.” You say teasingly.

“You don’t have to worry about me okay? Just worry about your little florist of a girlfriend.” She bites back.

Oh my god, is Melissa Schemmenti jealous? You think to yourself. “Look you’re obviously not okay. You’ve made it very clear that you don’t want to talk to me about it. But I’ll be here if you do want to talk.” You say gently and before walking back to the couch, you give her arm a little squeeze, saying that you’re always going to be there for her without saying anything at all.

The rest of the day flies by and Ava ends the sessions early so we could work on getting our classrooms ready for next week. You are working on a bulletin board in your classroom and Britney Spears’s Oops I did it Again is playing in the background. “I played with your heart, got lost in the game.” You sing along. You hear your door open and then close again. You’re in the zone trying to get the board just right.

“How can I help you?” You say absent mindedly.

“I’m ready to talk.” You hear the deep husky voice say.

You turn around and leaning against the door is Jessica Rabbit herself. You pause your music and walk to your desk and lean on it with your arms crossed.

“Okay I’m all yours.” You say gently.

“You were right at lunch. I wasn’t fine. I was…” You see the redhead trying to make herself okay with being vulnerable with you. You walk towards her and take her hand, letting her know that she’s safe with you. She squeezes your hand in unspoken appreciation.

“I was jealous of you and your little florist of a girlfriend.” She says quietly.

“Oh Mel. Some guys don’t get the romance thing too well. You really have to spell it out for them. For example Gary asks you how your day was. You say well (Y/N)’s significant other surprised her with flowers today and I thought it was real sweet. If someone were to surprise me with flowers, it’d make my day. Or some shit like that.” You explain to her.

The redhead chuckles a little. “No that’s not what I meant. Although now that you say it Gary could improve in the romance department.” She takes a shaky breath. “What I meant was I want to be the one who is surprising you with flowers and to make you as happy as you were at lunch. And for you to fucking kiss me like you kissed her….” She explains quietly.

“Are you saying that you have feelings for me?” You ask gently as you move closer to her.

“Yeah I think I’ve been falling in love with you since you started at Abbott. I thought that I just found you pretty and I was already with Gary so I didn’t really think much of it. But then I got to really know you as a person and you stole my heart, to really know you is to love you (Y/N). But then you met your girlfriend and I didn’t want to take that away from you. And so I shoved my feelings down and tried to go on normally. But seeing you today and how it made me feel, and then of course you seeing that I was upset. I just had to tell you. I don’t expect it to be reciprocated but I just needed to tell you and then we can go back to being-“

You push her gently against the door and give her the softest kiss in the history of kisses. You feel the neediness of Melissa lips and body trying to touch as much of you as possible. You felt the same need, her warmth, her scent, her curves all pressed on you was intoxicating.

You needed air so you disappointedly had to break away. The woman standing before you looked like she couldn’t believe what just happened.

“That was so much better than I ever imagined.” You say with a smile. “Obviously the feelings are mutual. But we have people that we need to think about and if we really want to burn those bridges so we can see if we have a future together.” You say quietly.

“Do you think you’d really leave your little florist girlfriend for me?” She asks with a smirk but you can see the vulnerability in her eyes.

“I dont know, are you going to surprise me with flowers?” You tease as you lean your forehead against hers.

“Mhmmm. And so much more than that. You really do deserve the world (Y/N). And if we give this thing a shot, I’m going to do everything I can to give you just that.” She says softly gazing lovingly into your eyes.

You pull away because you need a clear head to say what you’re about to say.

“I need to tell you something. Now I’m not trying to wreck the surprise or anything but you should know this before you decide what you’re going to do. Barb pulled me into her classroom today, said she’s been talking to Gary recently. Mel he’s going to propose to you soon. Already has the ring and everything.” You say, knowing that this could totally end with her choosing him.

“Shit!” She exclaims.

You move back towards her putting your hands on her waist.

“I just want you to be happy. And if that’s choosing Gary and saying yes to his proposal, then that’s what you should do. And I’ll be fine and we’ll be fine. I’ll still be your number one after Barb.” You chuckle but you can hear the sadness in your voice.

She pulls you closer. “Why is life like this?” She says into your neck.

“Wouldn’t be fun, if it was easy.” You tease her chuckling a little. “In my mind we have two options, we can keep going as is and do the safe option. You’ll marry him. I’ll do what I’m doing and see how that ends up. And we remain friends. And if it gets too hard to work with each other. I’ll transfer out, and you’ll stay here until you retire. I’m not going to make any other aspect of your life harder. You get everything in the “divorce”.” You say quietly.

The redheads eyes fill with tears. You caress her head and stroke her hair. “It’s okay, gorgeous. I got you. Option two is we hurt two people who really don’t deserve to be hurt. But they also don’t deserve to be with someone who deep down wants someone else.” You pause to gather your thoughts

“I know that I come across as strong and independent and fine all the time. But I’ve worked on myself enough where I know that I need to be loved with gentleness, empathy, and kindness. If you really think you can love me in those ways then there’s a high possibility we can do this damn thing, and do it well. But if you know those things are hard for you because of your own stuff and it’ll be really hard to love me in those ways, please choose Gary and spare me the heartache. We both have some thinking to do.” You say softly as you lean in and kiss her forehead.

And then you turn and walk back to your bulletin board and press play on the speaker.

#wlw #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #girls like girls #fanfic #abbott elementary #lesbian #lesbian couples #queer #loveislove #alphabet mafia #bisexual #pansexual

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Couch surfer in his 30s. Oscar winner in his 40s. Why the whole world wants Taika

**Notes: This is very long post!**

Good Weekend

In his 30s, he was sleeping on couches. By his 40s, he’d directed a Kiwi classic, taken a Marvel movie to billion-dollar success, and won an Oscar. Meet Taika Waititi, king of the oddball – and one of New Zealand’s most original creative exports.

Taika Waititi: “Be a nice person and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole.”

The good news? Taika Waititi is still alive. I wasn’t sure. The screen we were speaking through jolted savagely a few minutes ago, with a cacophonous bang and a confused yelp, then radio silence. Now the Kiwi ­ filmmaker is back, grinning like a loon: “I just broke the f---ing table, bro!”

Come again? “I just smashed this f---ing table and glass flew everywhere. It’s one of those old annoying colonial tables. It goes like this – see that?” Waititi says, holding up a folding furniture leg. “I hit the mechanism and it wasn’t locked. Anyway …”

I’m glad he’s fine. The stuff he’s been saying from his London hotel room could incur biblical wrath. We’re talking about his latest project, Next Goal Wins, a movie about the American Samoa soccer team’s quest to score a solitary goal, 10 years after suffering the worst loss in the game’s international history – a 31-0 ­ignominy to Australia – but our chat strays into ­spirituality, then faith, then religion.

“I don’t personally believe in a big guy sitting on a cloud judging everyone, but that’s just me,” Waititi says, deadpan. “Because I’m a grown-up.”

This is the way his interview answers often unfold. Waititi addresses your topic – dogma turns good people bad, he says, yet belief itself is worth lauding – but bookends every response with a conspiratorial nudge, wink, joke or poke. “Regardless of whether it’s some guy living on a cloud, or some other deity that you’ve made up – and they’re all made up – the message across the board is the same, and it’s important: Be a nice person, and live a good life. And just don’t be an arsehole!”

Not being an arsehole seems to have served Waititi, 48, well. Once a national treasure and indie darling (through the quirky tenderness of his breakout New Zealand films Boy in 2010 and Hunt for the Wilderpeople in 2016), Waititi then became a star of both the global box office (through his 2017 entry into the Marvel Universe, Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion worldwide) and then the Academy Awards (winning the 2020 best adapted screenplay Oscar for his subversive Holocaust dramedy JoJo Rabbit, in which he played an imaginary Hitler).

Waititi playing Adolf Hitler in the 2019 movie JoJo Rabbit. (Alamy)

A handsome devil with undeniable roguish charm, Waititi also slid seamlessly into style-icon status (attending this year’s Met Gala shirtless, in a floor-length gunmetal-grey Atelier Prabal Gurung wrap coat, with pendulous pearl necklaces), as well as becoming his own brand (releasing an eponymous line of canned ­coffee drinks) and bona fide Hollywood A-lister (he was introduced to his second wife, British singer Rita Ora, by actor Robert Pattinson at a barbecue).

Putting that platform to use, Waititi is an Indigenous pioneer and mentor, too, co-creating the critically acclaimed TV series Reservation Dogs, while co-founding the Piki Films production company, committed to promoting the next generation of storytellers – a mission that might sound all weighty and worthy, yet Waititi’s new wave of First Nations work is never earnest, always mixing hurt with heart and howling humour.

Waititi with wife Rita Ora at the 2023 Met Gala in May. (Getty Images)

Makes sense. Waititi is a byproduct of “the weirdest coupling ever” – his late Maori father from the Te Whanau-a-Apanui tribe was an artist, farmer and “Satan’s Slaves” bikie gang founder, while his Wellington schoolteacher mum descended from Russian Jews, although he’s not devout about her faith. (“No, I don’t practise,” he confirms. “I’m just good at everything, straight away.”)

He’s remained loyally tethered to his ­origin story, too – and to a cadre of creative Kiwi mates, including actors Jemaine Clement and Rhys Darby – never forgetting that not long before the actor/writer/producer/director was an industry maven, he was a penniless painter/photographer/ musician/comedian.

With no set title and no fixed address, he’s seemingly happy to be everything, everywhere (to everyone) all at once. “‘The universe’ is bandied around a lot these days, but I do believe in the kind of connective tissue of the universe, and the energy that – scientifically – we are made up of a bunch of atoms that are bouncing around off each other, and some of the atoms are just squished together a bit tighter than others,” he says, smiling. “We’re all made of the same stardust, and that’s pretty special.”

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We’ve caught Waititi in a somewhat relaxed moment, right before the screen actors’ and media artists’ strike ends. He’s ­sensitive to the struggle but doesn’t deny enjoying the break. “I spent a lot of time thinking about writing, and not writing, and having a nice ­holiday,” he tells Good Weekend. “Honestly, it was a good chance just to recombobulate.”

Waititi, at right, with Hunt for the Wilderpeople actors, from left, Sam Neill, Rhys Darby and Julian Dennison. (Getty Images)

It’s mid-October, and he’s just headed to Paris to watch his beloved All Blacks in the Rugby World Cup. He’s deeply obsessed with the game, and sport in general. “Humans spend all of our time knowing what’s going to happen with our day. There’s no surprises ­any more. We’ve become quite stagnant. And I think that’s why people love sport, because of the air of unpredictability,” he says. “It’s the last great arena entertainment.”

The main filmic touchstone for Next Goal Wins (which premieres in Australian cinemas on New Year’s Day) would be Cool Runnings (1993), the unlikely true story of a Jamaican bobsled team, but Waititi also draws from genre classics such as Any Given Sunday and Rocky, sampling trusted tropes like the musical training montage. (His best one is set to Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears.)

Filming in Hawaii was an uplifting experience for the self-­described Polynesian Jew. “It wasn’t about death, or people being cruel to each other. Thematically, it was this simple idea, of getting a small win, and winning the game wasn’t even their goal – their goal was to get a goal,” he says. “It was a really sweet backbone.”

Waititi understands this because, growing up, he was as much an athlete as a nerd, fooling around with softball and soccer before discovering rugby league, then union. “There’s something about doing exercise when you don’t know you’re doing exercise,” he enthuses. “It’s all about the fun of throwing a ball around and trying to achieve something together.” (Whenever Waititi is in Auckland he joins his mates in a long-running weekend game of touch rugby. “And then throughout the week I work out every day. Obviously. I mean, look at me.”)

Auckland is where his kids live, too, so he spends as much time there as possible. Waititi met his first wife, producer Chelsea Winstanley, on the set of Boy in 2010, and they had two daughters, Matewa Kiritapu, 8, and his firstborn, Te Kainga O’Te Hinekahu, 11. (The latter is a derivative of his grandmother’s name, but he jokes with American friends that it means “Resurrection of Tupac” or “Mazda RX7″) Waititi and Winstanley split in about 2018, and he married the pop star Ora in 2022.

He offers a novel method for balancing work with parenthood … “Look, you just abandon them, and know that the experience will make them harder individuals later on in life. And it’s their problem,” he says. “I’m going to give them all of the things that they need, and I’m going to leave behind a decent bank ­account for their therapy, and they will be just like me, and the cycle will continue.”

Jokes aside – I think he’s joking – school holidays are always his, and he brings the girls onto the set of every movie he makes. “They know enough not to get in the way or touch anything that looks like it could kill you, and they know to be respectful and quiet when they need to. But they’re just very comfortable around filmmakers, which I’m really happy about, because eventually I hope they will get into the ­industry. One more year,” he laughs, “then they can leave school and come work for Dad.”

Theirs is certainly a different childhood than his. Growing up, he was a product of two worlds. His given names, for instance, were based on his appearance at birth: “Taika David” if he looked Maori (after his Maori grandfather) and “David Taika” if he looked Pakeha (after his white grandfather). His parents split when he was five, so he bounced between his dad’s place in Waihau Bay, where he went by the surname Waititi, and his mum, eight hours drive away in Wellington, where he went by Cohen (the last name on his birth ­certificate and passport).

Waititi was precocious, even charismatic. His mother Robin once told Radio New Zealand that people always wanted to know him, even as an infant: “I’d be on a bus with him, and he was that kind of baby who smiled at people, and next thing you know they’re saying, ‘Can I hold your baby?’ He’s always been a charmer to the public eye.”

He describes himself as a cool, sporty, good-looking nerd, raised on whatever pop culture screened on the two TV channels New Zealand offered in the early 1980s, from M*A*S*H and Taxi to Eddie Murphy and Michael Jackson. He was well-read, too. When punished by his mum, he would likely be forced to analyse a set of William Blake poems.

He puts on a whimpering voice to describe their finances – “We didn’t have much monneeey” – explaining how his mum spent her days in the classroom but also worked in pubs, where he would sit sipping a raspberry lemonade, doodling drawings and writing stories. She took in ­ironing and cleaned houses; he would help out, learning valuable lessons he imparts to his kids. “And to random people who come to my house,” he says. “I’ll say, ‘Here’s a novel idea, wash this dish,’ but people don’t know how to do anything these days.”

“Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met or a story I’ve stolen from someone.” - Taika Waititi

He loved entertaining others, clearly, but also himself, recording little improvised radio plays on a tape deck – his own offbeat versions of ET and Indiana Jones and Star Wars. “Great free stuff where you don’t have any idea what the story is as you’re doing it,” he says. “You’re just sort of making it up and enjoying the ­freedom of playing god in this world where you can make people and characters do whatever you want.”

His other sphere of influence lay in Raukokore, the tiny town where his father lived. Although Boy is not autobiographical, it’s deeply personal insofar as it’s filmed in the house where he grew up, and where he lived a life similar to that portrayed in the story, surrounded by his recurring archetypes: warm grandmothers and worldly kids; staunch, stoic mums; and silly, stunted men. “Every single character I’ve ever written has been based on someone I’ve known or met,” he says, “or a story I’ve stolen from someone.”

He grew to love drawing and painting, obsessed early on with reproducing the Sistine Chapel. During a 2011 TED Talk on creativity, Waititi describes his odd subject matter, from swastikas and fawns to a picture of an old lady going for a walk … upon a sword … with Robocop. “My father was an outsider artist, even though he wouldn’t know what that meant,” Waititi told the audience in Doha. “I love the naive. I love people who can see things through an innocent viewpoint. It’s inspiring.”

After winning Best Adapted Screenplay Academy Award for JoJo Rabbit in 2020. (Getty Images)

It was an interesting time in New Zealand, too – a coming-of-age decade in which the Maori were rediscovering their culture. His area was poor, “but only ­financially,” he says. “It’s very rich in terms of the ­people and the culture.” He learned kapa haka – the songs, dances and chants performed by competing tribes at cultural events, or to honour people at funerals and graduations – weddings, parties, ­anything. “Man, any excuse,” he explains. “A big part of doing them is to uplift your spirits.”

Photography was a passion, so I ask what he shot. “Just my penis. I sent them to people, but we didn’t have phones, so I would print them out, post them. One of the first dick pics,” he says. Actually, his lens was trained on regular people. He watches us still – in airports, ­restaurants. “Other times late at night, from a tree. Whatever it takes to get the story. You know that.”

He went to the Wellington state school Onslow College and did plays like Androcles and the Lion, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and The Crucible. His crew of arty students eventually ended up on stage at Bats Theatre in the city, where they would perform haphazard comedy shows for years.

“Taika was always rebellious and wild in his comedy, which I loved,” says his high school mate Jackie van Beek, who became a longtime collaborator, including working with Waititi on a Tourism New Zealand campaign this year. “I remember he went through a phase of turning up in bars around town wearing wigs, and you’d try and sit down and have a drink with him but he’d be doing some weird character that would invariably turn up in some show down the track.”

He met more like-minded peers at Victoria University, including Jemaine Clement (who’d later become co-creator of Flight of the Conchords). During a 2019 chat with actor Elijah Wood, Waititi ­describes he and Clement clocking one another from opposite sides of the library one day: a pair of Maoris experiencing hate at first sight, based on a mutual suspicion of cultural appropriation. (Clement was wearing a traditional tapa cloth Samoan shirt, and Waititi was like: “This motherf---er’s not Samoan.” Meanwhile, Waititi was wearing a Rastafarian beanie, and Clement was like, “This ­motherf---er’s not Jamaican.”)

With Jemaine Clement in 2014. (Getty Images)

But they eventually bonded over Blackadder and Fawlty Towers, and especially Kenny Everett, and did comedy shows together everywhere from Edinburgh to Melbourne. Waititi was almost itinerant, spending months at a time busking, or living in a commune in Berlin. He acted in a few small films, and then – while playing a stripper on a bad TV show – realised he wanted to try life behind the camera. “I became tired of being told what to do and ordered around,” he told Wellington’s Dominion Post in 2004. “I remember sitting around in the green room in my G-string ­thinking, ‘Why am I doing this? Just helping someone else to realise their dream.’ ”

He did two strong short films, then directed his first feature – Eagle vs Shark (2007) – when he was 32. He brought his mates along (Clement, starring with Waititi’s then-girlfriend Loren Horsley), setting something of a pattern in his career: hiring friends instead of constantly navigating new working relationships. “If you look at things I’m doing,” he tells me, “there’s ­always a few common denominators.”

Sam Neill says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “The basis of it is this: we’re just a little bit crap at things.”

This gang of collaborators shares a common Kiwi vibe, too, which his longtime friend, actor Rhys Darby, once coined “the comedy of the mundane”. Their new TV show, Our Flag Means Death, for example, leans heavily into the mundanity of pirate life – what happens on those long days at sea when the crew aren’t unsheathing swords from scabbards or burying treasure.

Waititi plays pirate captain Blackbeard, centre, in Our Flag Means Death, with Rhys Darby, left, and Rory Kinnear. (Google Images)

Sam Neill, who first met Waititi when starring in Hunt for the Wilderpeople, says Waititi is the exemplar of a new New Zealand humour. “And I think the basis of it is this,” says Neill. “We’re just a little bit crap at things, and that in itself is funny.” After all, Neill asks, what is What We Do in The Shadows (2014) if not a film (then later a TV show) about a bunch of vampires who are pretty crap at being vampires, ­living in a pretty crappy house, not quite getting busted by crappy local cops? “New Zealand often gets named as the least corrupt country in the world, and I think it’s just that we would be pretty crap at being corrupt,” Neill says. “We don’t have the capacity for it.”

Waititi’s whimsy also spurns the dominant on-screen oeuvre of his homeland – the so-called “cinema of ­unease” exemplified by the brutality of Once Were Warriors (1994) and the emotional peril of The Piano (1993). Waititi still explores pathos and pain, but through laughter and weirdness. “Taika feels to me like an ­antidote to that dark aspect, and a gift somehow,” Neill says. “And I’m grateful for that.”

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Something happened to Taika Waititi when he was about 11 – something he doesn’t go into with Good Weekend, but which he considered a betrayal by the adults in his life. He ­mentioned it only recently – not the ­moment itself, but the lesson he learnt: “That you cannot and must not rely on grown-ups to help you – you’re basically in the world alone, and you’re gonna die alone, and you’ve just gotta make it all for yourself,” he told Irish podcast host James Brown. “I basically never forgave people in positions of responsibility.”

What does that mean in his work? First, his finest films tend to reflect the clarity of mind possessed by children, and the unseen worlds they create – fantasies conjured up as a way to understand or overcome. (His mum once summed up the main ­message of Boy: “The ­unconditional love you get from your children, and how many of us waste that, and don’t know what we’ve got.”)

Second, he’s suited to movie-making – “Russian roulette with art” – because he’s drawn to disruptive force and chaos. And that in turn produces creative defiance: allowing him to reinvigorate the Marvel Universe by making superheroes fallible, or tell a Holocaust story by making fun of Hitler. “Whenever I have to deal with someone who’s a boss, or in charge, I challenge them,” he told Brown, “and I really do take whatever they say with a pinch of salt.”

It’s no surprise then that Waititi was comfortable leaping from independent films to the vast complexity of Hollywood blockbusters. He loves the challenge of coordinating a thousand interlocking parts, requiring an army of experts in vocations as diverse as construction, sound, art, performance and logistics. “I delegate a lot,” he says, “and share the load with a lot of people.”

“This is a cool concept, being able to ­afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.” - Taika Waititi

But the buck stops with him. Time magazine named Waititi one of its Most Influential 100 People of 2022. “You can tell that a film was made by Taika Waititi the same way you can tell a piece was painted by Picasso,” wrote Sacha Baron Cohen. Compassionate but comic. Satirical but watchable. Rockstar but auteur. “Actually, sorry, but this guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Cohen concluded. “Can someone else write this piece?”

Directing Chris Hemsworth in 2017 in Thor: Ragnarok, which grossed more than $1.3 billion at the box office. (Alamy)

I’m curious to know how he stays grounded amid such adulation. Coming into the game late, he says, helped immensely. After all, Waititi was 40 by the time he left New Zealand to do Thor: Ragnarok. “If you let things go to your head, then it means you’ve struggled to find out who you are,” he says. “But I’ve always felt very comfortable with who I am.” Hollywood access and acclaim – and the pay cheques – don’t erase memories of poverty, either. “It’s more like, ‘Oh, this is a cool concept, being able to ­afford whatever I want, as opposed to sleeping on couches until I was 35.’ ” Small towns and strong tribes keep him in check, too. “You know you can’t piss around and be a fool, because you’re going to embarrass your family,” he says. “Hasn’t stopped me, though.”

Sam Neill says there was never any doubt Waititi would be able to steer a major movie with energy and imagination. “It’s no accident that the whole world wants Taika,” he says. “But his seductiveness comes with its own dangers. You can spread yourself a bit thin. The temptation will be to do more, more, more. That’ll be interesting to watch.”

Indeed, I find myself vicariously stressed out over the list of potential projects in Waititi’s future. A Roald Dahl animated series for Netflix. An Apple TV show based on the 1981 film Time Bandits. A sequel to What We Do In The Shadows. A reboot of Flash Gordon. A gonzo horror comedy, The Auteur, starring Jude Law. Adapting a cult graphic novel, The Incal, as a feature. A streaming series based on the novel Interior Chinatown. A film based on a Kazuo Ishiguro bestseller. Plus bringing to life the wildly popular Akira comic books. Oh, and for good measure, a new instalment of Star Wars, which he’s already warned the world will be … different.

“It’s going to change things,” he told Good Morning America. “It’s going to change what you guys know and expect.”

Did I say I was stressed for Waititi? I meant physically sick.

“Well…” he qualifies, “some of those things I’m just producing, so I come up with an idea or someone comes to me with an idea, and I shape how ‘it’s this kind of show’ and ‘here’s how we can get it made.’ It’s easier for me to have a part in those things and feel like I’ve had a meaningful role in the creative process, but also not having to do what I’ve always done, which is trying to control everything.”

In the 2014 mockumentary horror film What We Do in the Shadows, which he co-directed with Jemaine Clement. (Alamy)

What about moving away from the niche New Zealand settings he represented so well in his early work? How does he stay connected to his roots? “I think you just need to know where you’re from,” he says, “and just don’t forget that.”

They certainly haven’t forgotten him.

Jasmin McSweeney sits in her office at the New Zealand Film Commission in Wellington, surrounded by promotional posters Waititi signed for her two decades ago, when she was tasked with promoting his nascent talent. Now the organisation’s marketing chief, she talks to me after visiting the heart of thriving “Wellywood”, overseeing the traditional karakia prayer on the set of a new movie starring Geoffrey Rush.

Waititi isn’t the first great Kiwi filmmaker – dual Oscar-winner Jane Campion and blockbuster king Peter Jackson come to mind – yet his particular ascendance, she says, has spurred unparalleled enthusiasm. “Taika gave everyone here confidence. He always says, ‘Don’t sit around waiting for people to say, you can do this.’ Just do it, because he just did it. That’s the Taika effect.”

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Taika David Waititi is known for wearing everything from technicolour dreamcoats to pineapple print rompers, and today he’s wearing a roomy teal and white Isabel Marant jumper. The mohair garment has the same wispy frizz as his hair, which curls like a wave of grey steel wool, and connects with a shorn salty beard.

A stylish silver fox, it wouldn’t surprise anyone if he suddenly announced he was launching a fashion label. He’s definitely a commercial animal, to the point of directing television commercials for Coke and Amazon, along with a fabulous 2023 spot for Belvedere vodka starring Daniel Craig. He also joined forces with a beverage company in Finland (where “taika” means “magic”) to release his coffee drinks. Announcing the partnership on social media, he flagged that he would be doing more of this kind of stuff, too (“Soz not soz”).

Waititi has long been sick of reverent portrayals of Indigenous people talking to spirits.

There’s substance behind the swank. Fashion is a creative outlet but he’s also bought sewing machines in the past with the intention of designing and making clothes, and comes from a family of tailors. “I learnt how to sew a button on when I was very young,” he says. “I learnt how to fix holes or patches in your clothes, and darn things.”

And while he gallivants around the globe watching Wimbledon or modelling for Hermès at New York Fashion Week, all that glamour belies a depth of purpose, particularly when it comes to Indigenous representation.

There’s a moment in his new movie where a Samoan player realises that their Dutch coach, played by Michael Fassbender, is emotionally struggling, and he offers a lament for white people: “They need us.” I can’t help but think Waititi meant something more by that line – maybe that First Nations people have ­wisdom to offer if others will just listen?

“Weeelllll, a little bit …” he says – but from his intonation, and what he says next, I’m dead wrong. Waititi has long been sick of reverent ­portrayals of Indigenous people talking to kehua (spirits), or riding a ghost waka (phantom canoe), or playing a flute on a mountain. “Always the boring characters,” he says. “They’ve got no real contemporary relationship with the world, because they’re always living in the past in their spiritual ways.”

A scene from Next Goal Wins, filmed earlier this year. (Alamy)

He’s part of a vanguard consciously poking fun at those stereotypes. Another is the Navajo writer and director Billy Luther, who met Waititi at Sundance Film Festival back in 2003, along with Reservation Dogs co-creator Sterlin Harjo. “We were this group of outsiders trying to make films, when nobody was really biting,” says Luther. “It was a different time. The really cool thing about it now is we’re all working. We persevered. We didn’t give up. We slept on each other’s couches and hung out. It’s like family.”

Waititi has power now, and is known for using Indigenous interns wherever possible (“because there weren’t those opportunities when I was growing up”), making important introductions, offering feedback on scripts, and lending his name to projects through executive producer credits, too, which he did for Luther’s new feature film, Frybread Face and Me (2023).

He called Luther back from the set of Thor: Love and Thunder (2022) to offer advice on working with child actors – “Don’t box them into the characters you’ve ­created,” he said, “let them naturally figure it out on their own” – but it’s definitely harder to get Waititi on the phone these days. “He’s a little bitch,” Luther says, laughing. “Nah, there’s nothing like him. He’s a genius. You just knew he was going to be something. I just knew it. He’s my brother.“

I’ve been asked to explicitly avoid political questions in this interview, probably because Waititi tends to back so many causes, from child poverty and teenage suicide to a campaign protesting offshore gas and oil exploration near his tribal lands. But it’s hard to ignore his recent Instagram post, sharing a viral video about the Voice to Parliament referendum starring Indigenous Aussie rapper Adam Briggs. After all, we speak only two days after the proposal is defeated. “Yeah, sad to say but, Australia, you really shat the bed on that one,” Waititi says, pausing. “But go see my movie!”

About that movie – the early reviews aren’t great. IndieWire called it a misfire, too wrapped in its quirks to develop its arcs, with Waititi’s directorial voice drowning out his characters, while The Guardian called it “a shoddily made and strikingly unfunny attempt to tell an interesting story in an uninteresting way”. I want to know how he moves past that kind of criticism. “For a start, I never read reviews,” he says, concerned only with the opinion of people who paid for admission, never professional appraisals. “It’s not important to me. I know I’m good at what I do.”

Criticism that Indigenous concepts weren’t sufficiently explained in Next Goal Wins gets his back up a little, though. The film’s protagonist, Jaiyah Saelua, the first transgender football player in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match, is fa’afafine – an American Samoan identifier for someone with fluid genders – but there wasn’t much exposition of this concept in the film. “That’s not my job,” Waititi says. “It’s not a movie where I have to explain every facet of Samoan culture to an audience. Our job is to retain our culture, and present a story that’s inherently Polynesian, and if you don’t like it, you can go and watch any number of those other movies out there, 99 per cent of which are terrible.”

*notes: (there is video clip in the article)

Waititi sounds momentarily cranky, but he’s mostly unflappable and hilarious. He’s the kind of guy who prefers “Correctumundo bro!” to “Yes”. When our video connection is too laggy, he plays up to it by periodically pretending to be frozen, sitting perfectly still, mouth open, his big shifting eyeballs the only giveaway.

He’s at his best on set. Saelua sat next to him in Honolulu while filming the joyous soccer sequences. “He’s so chill. He just let the actors do their thing, giving them creative freedom, barely interjecting unless it was something important. His style matches the vibe of the Pacific people. We’re a very funny people. We like to laugh. He just fit perfectly.”

People do seem to love working alongside him, citing his ability to make productions fresh and unpredictable and funny. Chris Hemsworth once said that Waititi’s favourite gag is to “forget” that his microphone is switched on, so he can go on a pantomime rant for all to hear – usually about his disastrous Australian lead actor – only to “remember” that he’s wired and the whole crew is listening.

“I wouldn’t know about that, because I don’t listen to what other people say about anything – I’ve told you this,” Waititi says. “I just try to have fun when there’s time to have fun. And when you do that, and you bring people together, they’re more willing to go the extra mile for you, and they’re more willing to believe in the thing that you’re trying to do.”

Yes, he plays music between takes, and dances out of his director’s chair, but it’s really all about relaxing amid the immense pressure and intense privilege of making movies. “Do you know how hard it is just to get anything financed or green-lit, then getting a crew, ­getting producers to put all the pieces together, and then making it to set?” Waititi asks. “It’s a real gift, even to be working, and I feel like I have to remind ­people of that: enjoy this moment.”

Source: The Age

By: Konrad Marshall (December 1, 2023)

#rhys darby #taika waititi #next goal wins #our flag means death #hunt for the wilderpeople #interview

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Say have you done any ryusei headcanons yet?🤔 *wink wink nudge nudge*

I haven't yet so here they are!

He has a very infectious laugh, just the kind of laugh that you can't help but smile at.

Is actually good at hairdressing, he used to play with his mother's hair a lot as a kid and she taught him a lot. (Chifuyu refuses to ever trust him again though)

He's always willing to help people out and encourage others, even people he doesn't know.

Gets a lot of confession letters while in school

He actually tries really hard during school and puts the work in but he pretends he doesn't 

Never stops calling Peke J by the name Ronaldinho (which he chose because of the legendary footballer Ronaldinho)

Had sleepovers with Kojiro a lot while growing up

Is gifted with learning languages 

Both him and his mum are into fashion, they go on shopping trips together 

Likes the smell of perfume a lot, notices when people are wearing some.

Has his eye mask with him everywhere he goes

Sometimes he'll give Chifuyu weird nicknames just to annoy him

Is scared of dogs because he was bitten by one as a kid

One of his favourite things to do is to tease people, if he ever gets in a relationship he'll do the same to his partner

Is a good cook

His dream is to be a professional football player 

He helps his mum with the shop a lot

Has kicked a football and hit Chifuyu in the face at least once

Is good at drawing (though purposely draws Chifuyu badly whenever he asks)

Has a bit of a habit of being late

And finally, he's very good with all types of people. He's just naturally a people person, everyone just takes a shine to him.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #ryusei sato #sato ryusei #tokyo revengers spoilers

[thetriumphantpanda]

Ghost of You | J. Miller (Chapter Eight)

Series Summary / Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller.

Pairing / Joel Miller x Widow F!Reader

Word Count / 4.4k

Warnings / Soft!Joel as usual, some heavy petting, descriptions of panic attacks, descriptions of injuries (I am not a medical professional, please don't come for me), descriptions of food and alcohol, but nothing else.

Authors Note /  Okay, so this came to me in a dream when I was really stuck on how to properly move these two forward and I hope that I've managed to portray it properly. If you enjoyed this then please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or popping into my ask with some love! And if you'd like to leave a tip, you can do that over on my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Summer soon makes way for the fall, the air becoming chillier in Jackson by the day. The leaves have started to change, and you can already feel yourself missing the warmth and comfort that summer brought. The days are shorter, but that might also have something to do with the fact that you were finally back to work at the library full time, spending your days with Kate, and your evenings, more often than not, with Joel and Ellie. 

You and Joel were still taking things steady. You always returned to your home each evening and nothing had progressed between the two of you apart from the heavy make-out sessions you would sometimes have on his couch. He was careful with you, always searching your face when his hands would touch somewhere new, always asking if it was alright to put his lips to your neck, pointing to exactly where he’d put his mouth with his fingers. It was nice, you enjoyed it, and there had never been a moment where you felt he was frustrated with how slow things were going between the two of you. Always content to just sit with his arm around you, play board games with you and Ellie and just have quiet conversation in the dark of his living room. 

It was, however, frustrating you. There had been occasions where you’d stood on the porch, waiting for him to open the door, where you thought that evening would be the one. It had happened more often recently, now that Ellie had converted the garage at the end of their garden as somewhere to have her own space, but every time you felt like you wanted to ask, ask him to lay you down underneath him and take what you were desperate for, something always stopped you.  

Tonight, it was particularly cold out. Joel had set a fire which had warmed his living room, casting an orange, flickering glow over the game of monopoly that Ellie had just won. You’d been at it for hours, a back and forth of Joel trying to convince you to sell your properties to him in exchange for his utilities, you refusing and instead ganging up with Ellie to buy up most of the board, before she turned on you as well. 

“Told ya,” Joel smirks, nudging you with his elbow, “Should’a sold your blues to me, then we’d be the winners.” 

“Joel,” You chuckle, as you take the paper money from Ellie to put back in the box, “You offered me two utilities for my two blues, it was never going to happen.” 

“Hey, I offered to throw in a kiss as well,” He winks at you, to which you swat his arm, “Usually wins you over.” 

“You two a fucking gross sometimes,” Ellie laughs, “I’m going to bed, don’t stay up too long, oldies.” 

She’s out of the backdoor in a flash, leaving you to finish clearing up the game and stack it away with the others, Joel is standing from the couch at the same time, “Nightcap?” He asks. 

“Always,” You smile over your shoulder, “That’s what us old people do, right? Drink whiskey to help us sleep.” 

He chuckles as he pulls the bottle from the cupboard. This had become an almost nightly routine now, you’d have a drink or two, cuddle up until you could feel your eyes get heavy and then go home to your empty house, your empty bed. But it didn’t ever feel that lonely anymore. Sure, sometimes you’d turn over and look at the empty side of the bed and wish someone was there, but more often than not it was Joel’s form you’d imagine there at night, not Mark, although he did still make his appearances. 

The more you’d talked to Joel about him, the more comfortable you’d become with the idea that Mark would actually have really fucking liked Joel. Mark and Tommy had been close friends, and although Joel was certainly different to Tommy in many ways, you knew that if Joel had just been a friend, if Mark had continued to stay alive and healthy, they’d have been a firm trio of friends. 

“You ever think you’d spend the rest of your days living out the apocalypse playing monopoly?” You ask as Joel hands you your glass, “Because if you’d have told me twenty years ago that’s what I’d be doing, I’d have laughed.” 

He lets out a groan as he sits back down, opening his arm for you to curl up into his side like you usually do, “It does seem a bit domestic, doesn’t it?” He chuckles, taking a sip from his glass, “Nice though, especially when I got a pretty lady to cuddle up to as well.” 

“You flirt,” You chuckle, sipping your own drink, “Mark would have hated evenings like this though.” 

“Hmmm?” Joel hums, “Why’s that?” 

“Just not his style,” You shrug, “Liked his evenings quiet, we’d eat dinner and read, and he’d be in bed as soon as it was dark.” 

“You liked that?” Joel asks, hand running light touches up and down your arm. 

“I didn’t mind it,” You answer honestly, “After years of bouncing from place to place, never knowing when you were going to have to move on or when you might die, it was nice to just be still and quiet I guess.” 

“But you prefer getting your ass beat by a fifteen-year-old at monopoly?” He chuckles. 

“I wouldn’t say prefer,” You laugh along, “It’s just a nice change.” 

The whiskey, and the dying flames of the fire, are warming your bones. You finish the last of the whiskey and put the glass on the coffee table, settling back into Joel’s side, “You want a top up?” He asks, setting his own half-finished glass down. 

You look up at him, “Not right now, but I’d like a kiss if you don’t mind?” 

“Oh sweet pea, I never mind.” He grins, leaning down to capture your lips with his own. 

There’s something in the air tonight that makes you bold as brass. You push yourself up a little so Joel isn’t craning his neck down to you so much, one of your hands coming to rest on his shoulder to steady yourself as you move to loom over him. You pull your lips from him just enough to settle yourself into a more comfortable position before they’re back together, this time, your tongue running along his bottom lip, coaxing his mouth open for you. 

You don’t think you’re ever going to get tired of the way this man kisses you. Every time it’s like he won’t ever get the chance again. His big hands are cupping your face, pulling you further down, pressing your mouths closer together. The taste of the whiskey on his tongue is always intoxicating, but tonight even more so. Before you can really register what you’re doing, you throw one leg over his hip so you’re straddling his lap. There’s still a fair amount of space between the two of you, you’re hovering as far above his lap as you can manage, but Joel’s hands are moving from your face, resting on the waistband of your jeans where they are on your hips. 

He lets out a quiet moan into your mouth which sends electric shocks down your spine to settle in your tummy and God, you want more. You let your own hands grip his broad shoulders and before you know it, those big hands of his are resting on the globes of your ass, gently palming them through the denim of your jeans. His touch is electric – his hands guiding you to settle further into his lap when you feel it. You sink down just far enough to feel the unmistakable bulge at the front of Joel’s jeans against your own aching core and jolts you. Makes you panic. How could you have possibly gotten this far without even thinking? It makes you want to be sick. 

You pull away from his mouth and rest your forehead on his, “I’m sorry,” You mumble, “I’m fucking sorry Joel.” 

“Hey,” He speaks, hands moving from your ass back to your face, “Look at me, sweet pea.” 

You do, opening your eyes to meet his own, as always, not a hint of anger or frustration on his face, just one of concern, one that he’s pushed you too far and made you uncomfortable, “Why is this so fucking hard for me?” You speak, mostly for yourself. 

“Because it’s a big deal,” He says simply, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “You don’t have to be sorry about anythin’, it’s me actin’ like a damn teenager when I’ve got a pretty girl on my lap.” 

You extricate yourself from his lap, trying not to watch as he adjusts himself so his erection isn’t so prevalent in his jeans. Once he’s gotten himself more comfortable, he finishes off his whiskey before he lets out a yawn. It must be late, the game had gone on for hours and you know he’s got morning patrol tomorrow. 

“I’ll get outta your hair,” You mumble quietly, not quite sure why you’re the one feeling hurt now, “Know you’ve got an early morning.” 

“Hey,” He grips your arm as you try and stand, “Stop that.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Thinkin’ I want ya to leave because we’re not having sex.” 

“I don’t think that at all.” You say, defensively. 

“Yes you do,” God why can he just always read you like this, “I’m not mad at you sweet pea, I will say it until I’m blue in the face, you take all the time you need,” He leans in as close to your ear as he possible can, “And when you’re ready, I’m gonna be so fuckin’ good to you, you won’t know your own name.” 

You gasp, giggling at his words. The longer you’d been staying with him like this, the filthier promises had been dropping from his lips. Never to pressure you, only to promise you exactly what you had in store when you felt able to give yourself to him. 

“Well,” You smile, giving his upper thigh a squeeze, “I’ll be sure to think of what that might entail when I get into bed later.” 

A smirk appears on his lips, “Only if you tell me all about it tomorrow.” 

It’s a few days later when you’re shutting up the library with Kate. She locks the door and hikes her bag higher on her shoulder, “You want to grab a drink at the bar?” She asks, “We haven’t been together in so long.” 

You know that Joel is on patrol right now and won’t be back until later, and a drink at the bar usually means a good hearty meal as well, which you would really enjoy against the backdrop of the cold evening air, so you gladly agree. You’d been a few times in the past weeks, mainly with Tommy and Maria accompanying you and Joel, and thankfully, no-one, including Vanessa, had made any comments like the first night, so you were more comfortable there now. 

You sit together with Kate, sipping a glass of whiskey and enjoying bowls of venison stew, watching as Ellie sits with a group of kids doing the same, but with glasses of juice instead. Joel had confided in you months ago that he was worried about her fitting in, that she’d struggled to make friends with people her own age, but since she’d started at the school, things had been better. She was attached to Dina and Cat by the hip most of the time, and it was nice to know she was able to enjoy being a kid for once. 

“So, how are things going with your man?” Kate teases, dropping her spoon into her empty bowl. 

“They’re okay,” You answer honestly, “Slow going, but that’s what I need.” 

“I have to say, in the past few weeks you’re almost your old self.” 

“Yeah, I feel a lot better to be honest,” You admit, “Like, I still struggle sometimes, but Belinda moved me to one appointment a month and said she thinks I’m finally on the road to a proper recovery.” 

“Good,” She smiles, clinking her glass to yours, “And it’s not all him either,” She adds, “Sure he’s rugged and handsome, but don’t let anyone think we’re giving him all the credit for making you happy, you’ve done this all by yourself, you hear me?” 

“I hear you,” You smile, taking a sip of your whiskey. 

“Now hurry up,” She says, slamming her drink back, “I’ve got a date with Pride and Prejudice.” 

You roll your eyes but knock back your own drink all the same, “You’ve read it at least six times since I’ve known you,” You stand, gathering your things, “And you’d still rather read it than spend time with me?” 

“Sorry babes,” She chuckles, “But Mr Darcy wins every time.”

As you’re leaving The Tipsy Bison, you’re suddenly all too aware that there’s hell of a commotion going on in the street. The main gates are flung open, and people are shouting and screaming to each other as horses gallop in through the gates. Then, you can see Tommy. He’s dragging someone back through the gates. Then, you realise who it is and all the colour drains from your face. He’s dragging Joel and he’s covered in fucking blood. You bend over and try to not throw up. You can feel Kate at your side, trying to pull you up to standing again, you let her, but you can feel your knees start to buckle as you try and get down the steps and onto the street. 

Maria is running towards you; you can see panic written on her face. Kate lets you go for a moment and as you’re running towards Tommy, you tumble down onto the ground, palms hitting the dirt and gravel. In any other circumstance you’d probably register the pain of landing on your knees at your age, but Maria is on the floor in front of you, bringing your face to the crook of her shoulder to shield you from whatever is going on. 

“Joel… oh my god.” Is all you can mumble, just his name over and over again into Maria’s shoulder. 

Then, you wonder what the fuck you’re doing on the floor. You look up and Tommy is coming towards you, him and another man dragging Joel, who looks to be just holding on to consciousness. You try and push yourself up, but Maria is trying to keep you grounded. 

“Let go of me!” You scream, trying to tear Maria’s arms off you, “I have to go with him!” 

“Darling, calm down.” She tries to soothe. 

“No!” Another roar from your lungs, “Let me see him!” 

You’re crying now, tears streaming down your face. You have to be near him. You have to know he’s okay. You can’t do this again, you can’t lose someone else, not like this. You’re trying to suck in breath through your mouth, but you just end up choking on the air as you continue to fight to get away, to follow behind Tommy who has rushed past you. You can see drops of blood on the ground, drop of Joel’s blood, and this is what finally causes you to throw up. His blood, on the floor, that means it’s bad. 

You can feel someone else behind you trying to pull you up as Maria helps from the front, trying to get you away from the mess you’ve made from emptying your stomach on the floor. You fall into Maria’s arms again when she wraps them around you, running a hand over your hair to try and calm you down, whispering that it’s going to be okay and that you can see him soon. 

Then, in your mind, your brain goes straight to Ellie. You’re whipping around, about to run back into the bar to get her, but when you do, you realise she’s the person who helped get you up off floor. 

“Oh my God,” You breathe, pulling her into a hug of her own, “Ellie.” 

She wraps her arms around your middle, squeezing you just as hard as you’re squeezing her before you pull away and cup her face in your hands. Her face is just as distraught as you must imagine yours is, although she’s not crying, just has a glazed look in her eye that breaks your heart even more. You don’t need to ask each other whether you’re okay. You both know the answer. You just pull back into each other and hug even tighter, until Maria is touching your lower back. 

“Let’s go to the hospital,” She says, leading you both down the street, following the very obvious trail of blood, “Tommy can tell us what the fuck is going on, if nothing else.” 

As you’re walking, you’re remembering the last time you made this trip to the hospital. Maria was guiding you then, you were crying then, knowing it was going to be the last time you got to see Mark. The last time you’d get to hold his hand. Watch the slow rise-and-fall of his chest. He was unconscious. He didn’t know you were there. He had no idea you kept hold of his hand right to the very end. 

Your feet are carrying you at this point. You don’t feel like you’re inside your body at all, don’t feel at all human. The only thing anchoring you to the real world is Ellie’s hand clutched in your own and Maria’s guiding arm around your waist. 

When you step through the doors of the hospital it’s a flurry. It looks as though Joel wasn’t the only one to get injured, although most of the other men in the waiting room look mainly walking wounded and not pouring blood out onto the ground. A nurse is tending to them as best she can, and then Tommy is bursting through the doors at the end of the hall, own clothes covered in blood, but looking like he might have gotten off scott-free, injury wise. 

“What the fucking hell happened out there?!” Maria is demanding as she lets go of your briefly to hug her husband. 

“It was a fuckin’ ambush,” Tommy spits, noticing Ellie and you stood behind her, shedding his jacket and throwing it to the side so you don’t have to look at the blood, “A whole fuckin’ group of ‘em, waiting us out at the lodge,” He lets Maria go, “Fuckin’ bastard’s took us by surprise, started firin’ all over the place, it was fuckin’ carnage,” He’s checking on Ellie next, “Thought we got ‘em all, and then outta fuckin’ nowhere this one guy manages to take a perfect shot at Joel, right through the shoulder.” 

“Can we…” You trail off as he takes you in an embrace, “Can we see him?” 

He pulls away, looking at you with eyes that says he’s sorry, and you’re not sure if he’s saying sorry because you can’t or because Joel might be dead. It makes your bottom lip wobble and more tears to spring in your eyes. 

“They’re tryin’ to dig a bullet outta his shoulder, sweetheart,” He says, “As soon as he’s comfortable we’ll let you in, alright?” 

You nod and let him, and Maria lead you and Ellie to a room that’s empty down the hall. Maria stays sat with you whilst Tommy goes to find something warm to drink, bringing back a flask of coffee that you don’t even bother to ask where he found it. He set a mug in your hands, giving Ellie some water instead, and that’s how you sit for what feels like hours. The room is mostly silent, save for the few times your emotions threaten to get the better of you and you have to take big, deep breaths to keep yourself in control. Your hand stays firmly clutched to Ellie’s; you both take turns rubbing your thumbs over each other’s hands to keep each other calm. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but a doctor is opening the door. He’s got a mask over his mouth, but no gloves on, scrubs with splatters of blood on them. Everyone in the room sits up in their chairs, waiting for the axe to drop, “He’s fine,” There’s a collective sigh of relief, “He’s lucky the bullet got lodged, we managed to pull it out and stitch him up fine, he’s just a little tired from the blood loss,” You finally let out your own breath that you’d been holding in, “He can have visitors, but one at a time.” 

You turn to Ellie, “You go first,” You say, pulling her hand for her to stand up, “He’ll want to see you.” 

She stands but doesn’t leave to follow the doctor until she’s bent down to give you a bone crushing hug. Tommy follows her out soon after, mumbling something about needing to check on the other guys, which leaves you and Maria alone. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, suddenly all too embarrassed at your outburst in the street. 

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?” 

“All that,” You gesture wildly with your hand, “Out there.” 

She gets up from her chair and kneels in front of you, comforting hands on your knees, “Don’t be so silly,” She soothes, “Even I was fucking scared by it all, I know how much he means to you, so you don’t need to be sorry, ever, you understand?”

“I just feel so stupid,” You can feel your tears starting again, “It was just a single bullet wound, why did I act like it was the end of the world?” 

“Because none of us knew that?” She offers, “He was almost unconscious girl, there was blood everywhere.” 

“I thought….” You trail off, not wanting to admit what’s on the tip of your tongue. 

“You thought you were going to lose him too?” 

All you do is nod, letting a tear trickle down your face. Maria’s cold hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears, “That man is a stubborn son-of-a-bitch,” She soothes, “Gonna take a lot more than a single bullet to tear him away from you.” 

Maria is just lifting herself from t he floor when Ellie comes back into the room, Tommy behind her with his hands resting on her shoulders, “I’m gonna take Ellie home, but he wanted to see you.” He’s motioning to you. 

“Will you be alright on your own?” You ask to Ellie, it’s a stupid question, because she’s probably one of the most self-sufficient fifteen year old’s you’ve ever met, but you want her to know that she has you if she needs you. 

“I think I’ll probably just crash,” She shrugs, clearly still reeling herself from what happened, “I know where to find you tomorrow if I need you.” 

You give her one last hug before Tommy is leading her away down the hall, pointing through the doors at where you needed to go. 

When you push open the door to his room, Joel is sat, propped up in bed with his shoulder wrapped up in what has to have been almost all the communes supply of bandages. His face is pale, and you can tell he’s in pain, so you let the door close behind you and stand right there, waiting for him to invite you closer. His shirt is ripped, where the doctor obviously didn’t want to waste time trying to get him out of it in a dignified manner, and there’s blood covering the material and his jeans have a fair splattering of it as well. 

“It looks worse than it is, I promise,” He speaks softly, motioning for you to come and sit on the chair next to his bed, “I’m sorry I scared you.” 

You shake your head as you take a seat, shuffling the chair closer to the bed, “Don’t be silly,” You respond, “You were bleeding quite profusely, you didn’t need to worry about me.” 

He offers you his hand, led on the bed, palm upturned, which you take, wrapping your own hand around his, giving it a squeeze, just to make sure he is really still here, “Are you okay?” He asks, squeezing you hand back. 

“Joel, please,” You sigh, “Don’t ask about me when you just got shot.” 

“Well, I know I’m okay, and now you know I’m okay, so I’m asking you, sweet pea, are you okay?” 

“I was so scared Joel,” You whimper, lip trembling, “I thought- oh god – that I might lose you as well.” 

He releases your hand, only to brush the tears from your face before he’s gripping it again, “You listen to me,” He speaks, you look at him, “I have been shot at more times than I remember, it’s going to take hell of a lot more than a bullet to take me away from you, do you understand me?” 

You nod, using. Your own free hand to wipe away more tears that have fallen from your eyes, “Can I hug you?” 

“Promise to watch out for my shoulder?” He teases, you nod with a small smile, “Then I’d love a hug.” 

You stand from the chair, leaning over to wrap your arms around his neck. Joel sits forward just a touch to let your arms snake around him, before his good arm is clutching around you and pulling you down. You let your head drop to the crook of his neck, where you turn and press a kiss to his skin, breathe in his scent, take him all in. 

It’s in this moment that you realise you might just have the capacity to love this man. This man who has done nothing but be kind to you. This man who has been so patient and soft and understanding at every marker of whatever this relationship was. This man who kissed you like his life depended on it, clearly capable of such extreme violence that would have kept him alive, but never once showing you that side of him. You can’t say it, not yet it’s too fast, but the panic you had felt at the prospect of losing him meant you knew exactly who he was to you. You could love Joel Miller, you wanted so desperately to love Joel Miller. You just prayed the world would give you enough time together to do it.

Joel Miller Taglist:  @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33@casa-boiardi@cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @cavillscurls @darkroastjoel @morning-star-joy

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