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lloydskywalkers · 3 years

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Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

#answered #ninjago #tlnm #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #slight blood tw #i just. have a lot of feelings about friends #and a lot of thoughts about how the movie!ninja put each other on pedestals #not in an inherently bad way but #i think they all think so much of each other #they forget they're human #and that leads to fallout #anyways! movie bros T-T #my fic #masterofswag213

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vanchlo · 4 years

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Guitar Talk

Blurb Synopsis: Although thousands of miles away, you wouldn’t give up guitar lessons with your boyfriend, Niall, for anything. Even if he can be a little shit.

Genre: Lots of fluff, although a little sad.

Word Count: 4.5k words

Pairing: Niall x Reader

The red circle blinks in front of your eyes. Your eyes flit to your hands that begin to move effortlessly, music coming from them. Well, actually it’s coming from the guitar strings you play. Picking the strings, you play a D suspended chord before moving to the G major 7. A smile bends your lips when you play the next chord, B minor 7 without a hiccup, and the A suspended chord too. But when you get to the G major 6 chord, your fingers struggle with where to go on the strings. You stop there and make a funny face at the camera. The red circle stops blinking and you exhale, feeling the nerves worsen.

Now your fingers tap along the screen, a message composing before your eyes.

Does this sound better?

With the guitar sitting in your lap, you hit the send button. Saving the message, you swipe over to the home screen. After viewing a few snaps from friends, you reply with random selfies and messages. When you return to the home screen, the arrow in front of his name is empty. Opening the conversation again, his little brunette haired bitmoji pops up. A white cloud above his head with an ellipses appears too. Niall is typing, it says. The sound of a bubble popping greets your ears and new words appear.

sounds good luv. but looks like ur struggling with that last chord. here’s a tip - the 2nd time u play the lil sequence through, use the same finger to press down for the same two notes on that string. way easier than adding another finger to the mix. does that make sense ? xx

Your eyebrows knit together over your tired eyes. Rubbing them doesn’t help, because the words in front of you still don’t make sense. Holding your thumb down on the message, you tap Save. It’s always annoyed you how you can never remember what was said last time in a snapchat conversation, if you don’t save it. Exhaling, you try to read through his message again, but the second time isn’t the charm. No, not when Niall starts talking in guitar language. One you’ve just started to learn, with his help. But it’s always been easier for him to teach you guitar when it’s not over fricken Snapchat, you think to yourself with a silent groan. You’re tempted to go and put the guitar back on the stand in the corner where you’ve wanted to leave it since he left. But you try to play that sequence over again, but once again you mess up. Your phone chimes again with the popping noise.

Snapchat from Niall

Dragging your thumb across the screen, you sigh from frustration.

hello luv ? did u try that ? xx

Tossing your phone onto your bed, you set the acoustic guitar on the mound of bed covers. Padding out of the room in your fuzzy socks, you turn down the hallway. Even though it’s been almost two weeks, you still can’t get used to how quiet the house is without him.

Usually there would be a football match on the tv, his singing or guitar playing echoing throughout the house, or him blasting music while working out or cooking. Your most favorite of all is how he could never fail to scare you.

Whether it was walking into the study while you’re doing homework, and giving jumper cables to your sides.

Yelling ‘boo!’ when he walked in on you cleaning the kitchen, making you drop the cleaning spray.

Opening the door to the shower quietly and whispering something into your ear.

Suddenly saying ‘ah!’ while grabbing your side in the middle of a movie - a horror movie or not.

Whatever he did, you always jumped to high heavens with a scream. Although it got on your nerves sometimes, and almost made you cry when you were half asleep or the movie was scary, you miss it. You miss him.

His contagious laugh. Those wicked blue eyes. The empty cans of sparkling water sat around the house, although they annoyed you. Him yelling at the referees on the tv, even though he knows they can’t hear him. His sometimes annoyingly loud singing. Even if he always left the seat up on the toilet, but to his defense he kept saying he’d remember next time and that no, you didn’t need to get one of the fancy seats that lifted itself. You missed well, everything. His advice, that of course, you can still get, but it’s not instantaneous anymore. You can still see his smile over FaceTime or through pictures, but that’s delayed too. So is saying goodnight to him, because you have to figure out the time zones and his schedule. Getting his help on something, whether it’s figuring out where he put the strainer for the pasta, or his advice on an essay you wrote. Now, even his guitar lessons that he insisted you continue while he’s away are even harder with his absence. Although they’re frustrating and his guitar language is unintelligible at times, it’s made you feel closer to him. And that’s not something you want to give up, especially now.

You’ve kept telling yourself that it will all be over soon. He has a few more shows until he’s done with this leg of his tour, and then he’ll be home. Well, just for a few weeks before he goes out again. But then you can join him, because your courses will be done for the semester. You would have tagged along with him in a heartbeat, like you so often do. But two of your classes this semester were only offered on campus, and with the end of your degree nearing, there wasn’t any way to get around it. As you wash your hands after using the bathroom, you recall the look on his face when you told him last November. He tried to hide his disappointment, but after he asked you why you couldn’t take them online or wait on them, he found it impossible to mask any longer.

Shaking your head of the unpleasant memories, you turn off the bathroom light. The memories you shared in there still linger - Niall’s first bath bomb that left glitter on him for days, messing each other’s shampooed hair up into different dos in the shower, and the Eagles picture he has framed above the toilet that you still laugh at. Only he would hang that picture there to look at while he takes a leak. But the memories are whisked away when you hear your ringtone, a recent favorite song of yours. Then your Macbook chimes in as well, receiving the call too, because it’s synced to your phone.

Rushing to your shared bedroom, you plop onto the large bed. Huffing, you find your phone in the sea of covers after a few seconds. Your rapid heartbeat from the fear of missing the call only increases when you see the name. Or more like the picture lighting up your screen. Your heart warms at the smiling picture of a brown-haired little boy. And then it aches.

“You’re supposed to be getting ready to leave for the arena, you said,” the words fall from your lips in an annoyed sigh.

“Oh, t’anks. Jus’ wanna talk t’ me lovely girlfrien’, but guess not. ‘ll jus’ go then,” Niall responds sarcastically.

“No don’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to make you late.”

“Ya won’. Jus’ answe’,” he replies, knitting your eyebrows together. But before you can ask what you’re supposed to be answering, your phone twinkles, and then your Macbook.

You can’t stay upset as you see the message flash on your screen. Ni wants to FaceTime.

“Ni,” you begin, trying to sound stern.

“Jus’ answe’ tha bloody FaceTime befo’ I change me mind,” he tells you, his words ending in a laugh. “C’mon, love, I don’ got a lotta time.”

“Okay.”

Pressing the green Answer button, you let your phone fall into the cream covers once again. Criss-crossing your legs, you drag the laptop over to sit in front of you. A hum leaves its speaker as Niall’s image materializes on the screen in front of you. A warm smile paints his stubbly face as one soon covers yours.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi. Why the FaceTime? I mean I’m not complaining, but I thought we were going to wait until tonight,” you say, confusion rolling off of your words.

“Grab yer guitar,” is all he says, his favorite Lowden guitar suddenly appearing in the frame. “‘m gonna help ya wit’ dat part befo’ I hafta go.”

You try to hold back the smile inching up your lips, but it’s hard. You’re sure some body part of yours fills his screen as you lean over the laptop to grab the guitar.

“Oi! I thought ‘d brought t’ose shorts wit’ me. I see where they’ve gone now, ye li’l thief!” Niall exclaims from the computer. Giggling, you sit back down, the bed moving as you get comfortable. “Wha’d ye go in me suitcase befo’ I left an’ take what ya wanted?” he guffaws in his famous laugh, it having been too long since the last time you heard it. If only a couple of hours. You try not to think of how many days it’s been since you heard it without a phone in between you two.

“No!” you scoff in disbelief, settling the Gibson G-45 Studio on your lap. A present from Niall for your birthday after you agreed to let him finally teach you how to play guitar. You told him again and again not to spend a lot of money on it for you. Unbeknownst to you if he did, he only said that he wanted to get you something of quality. And he said something about how there’s no point in playing something lousy that won’t hold up to the music. Then he wouldn’t shut up about how good Gibsons are and how many guitars of theirs that he has.

“Sureeee. Now le’s jus’ try dat first verse yer learnin’. See how I can help. Oh an’ fo’ tha record, ‘m goin’ through yer drawers when I get home t’ see what else ye took o’ mine,” he smirks, shaking his head as he mutters your name.

A red blush covers your cheeks, giving him the guilty verdict he was looking for. Rolling his eyes, he rakes a hand through his flat brunette hair. He tugs on the collar of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, the frame of his hotel bed behind him. “Ye li’l shit, you,” he mumbles affectionately with another shake of his head. Sticking the white guitar pick between his lips, he holds onto it there before moving something out of frame.

Thoughts of missing his lips and what they could be doing to you right now muddle your thoughts. They cause you to fudge up the very first chord you pick. But with encouraging words from him, you carry on. It happens again when you get to that dreaded G major 6 chord.

“‘Kay, since ye ignored me Snapchat ‘bout tryin’ it wit’ tha same finga, watch me,” Niall insists, humor sticking to his words.

“I didn’t ignore it! You don’t make sense when you talk guitar, you know that? I told you that you have to dumb it down for me. Plus, I had to go pee, so there were more important matters,” you argue, resting your hands on the top curve of the natural colored wood.

“Oh ‘m sorry, love. Yer right, I gotta rememba dat. ‘Kay, so watch me now. Watch how I use tha same finger t’ play tha next note on dat string. So I pluck tha fifth string wit’ me finga on tha second fret. Then next it wants me t’ pluck tha same string, but on tha third fret,” he explains, looking back and forth between the guitar and you. He walks through every step as he plays the two notes slowly. “So ‘m gonna use me pointa finga, coz tha’s what works fer me. ‘ll play tha first note on tha second string, an’ then almost drag it down t’ pluck it again, but on tha third fret. Make sense wha’ ‘m sayin’? You try it now.”

Your head goes up and down at his words, mumbling an ‘okay.’ Hands leaving your guitar, you drag Niall’s image to the side of the screen. The note showing the guitar tablature Niall wrote comes out of hiding to help you. You scroll down until you find the G major 6 chord. With Niall watching, you nervously try the technique he showed you. It’s rocky at first, because the fingerpicking is different from the previous chord, but soon you hear applause.

“There, tha’s it. Yer gettin’ tha hang o’ it, love. I really t’ink that’ll be easier fer ye. Jus’ keep tryin’ dat technique I taught ye. An’ go slow, ye don’ need t’ speed up ‘til yer comfortable playin’ dat. Ye start off slow ‘til ye can start t’ speed up. T’ink o’ it dis way - if yer makin’ too many mistakes, then yer playin’ it too fast. But if yer not makin’ any mistakes, then speed it up a li’l,” Niall narrates, almost losing you for a second with the guitar talk again.

“Okay, I get it. Thanks, I’ll try that,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the screen awkwardly.

“Wha’? Why ye bein’ all shy, love? ‘s jus’ me, nobody else ‘s here wit’ me.”

“You know it’s hard playing in front of you,” you begrudgingly reveal, repeating this for perhaps the hundredth time.

But it never makes you settle, because it’s just as nerve-wracking each time you play for him. Or send a snapchat recording. Or when you know that he’s listening in the next room, well because he used to make comments, but that was until you got annoyed and he stopped. Or when you’d play outside in the garden to escape his ears, sure he’s eavesdropping somewhere. You know, because he did the same thing before with your singing. He’d crack the bathroom door open just to hear a hint of you singing in the shower. Or stop just around the corner from the kitchen when you sang along while cooking.

“I know ‘s nervewrackin’. It was fer me when I first started, an’ sumtimes it still ‘s when ‘m ‘round otha guitar playas. But, babe, ye gotta let dat all go. Coz ‘ve learned if ya don’t, yer not gonna get anywhere. Hey, look at me, will ye?” Niall coos from the screen of your laptop. Lifting your eyes from the covers, they return to his smiling face. “An’ I hope it counts fer sumthin’ dat ‘m yer numba one fan.”

With that, all of your nerves go out the window. He puts a smile on your face and you can’t help but nod in response. “And I’m yours,” you respond, immediately seeing his head go up and down.

“Believe me, I couldn’t forget. I know ye always will be, darlin’,” he smiles, his bubblegum lips spreading to show his straight white teeth. Memories flash in your mind from the hundreds of songs you’ve watched him perform with his guitar. On stage, and well, on the couch. “Now, will ye try it once mo’ fer me, my love?”

Nodding, you hear him cheer which sends you into a fit of giggles. Soon, his loud laugh pours from the speakers to grace your ears. One of your own trickles from your lips as you find your fingering on the guitar. He counts you off to 4, and then you take your time fingerpicking the chords. The G major 6 appears out of nowhere, but you use Niall’s trick again this time. The next words out of his mouth echo your thoughts.

“I t’ink dat went betta dat time too. Good job, love. Yer jus’ gettin’ betta an’ betta. Really, I mean it. Ever since we started t’ese lessons a year ago, yer doin’ so well. ‘m so proud o’ you, bub,” Niall grins, scratching his beard before his chin settles in his palm.

You’re choked for words, unsure of what you could say that could express your gratefulness. But you feel rest assured, knowing that he knows how much he means to you. As well as how grateful you are for him for teaching you how to play.

“Why d’ya wanna learn dis song o’ mine anyways? Neva gotta ask ya dat bit,” he questions, twirling the pick around in his finger. Absentmindedly, he kind of chews on it as he waits for your answer.

“I dunno, I’ve always liked it. It sounds so pretty, and you said it would be fun to play together since it has two parts,” you reply, the words finding their way.

“Mmmm, I see. So yer gonna finally let me play a song wit’ you, huh?”

“We’ll see,” you say, shrugging your shoulders.

“Hey, don’ go on teasin’ me. Wait, ‘s dat gray Eagles jumpa o’ mine yer wearin’? I was lookin’ all over da place fer dat when I was packin’!” Niall exclaims, his face getting closer to the camera.

“Um no, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hurry, pushing the laptop screen back to raise the camera away from your chest.

Shaking his head, he tsk-tsks your name once again. “Ye li’l bugga, you. I dunno what ‘m gonna do wit’ ye when I get home. Well actually, I might ‘ave sum new ideas since ye keep stealin’ me clothes,” Niall winks, a sly smirk sticking to his lips. His eyebrows dance amongst his forehead, sending your lips into giggles.

“Hey! They were still in your closet, so they were fair game!” you counter, inching your head forward.

Pressing his lips together, his head shakes fast. “No, no, no. Tha’s not how it works, an’ ye know it, love. Said ye can go bloody wild wit’ knickin’ me clothes, afta I packed me suitcases. I swear t’ God dat jumpa wasn’t in me closet when I went through grabbin’ stuff t’ pack. An’ it just so ‘appened t’ end up on yer body now, afta ‘m gone. Hmm, I can only wonder how dat ‘appened,” Niall quips, a smile soon peeking at the corners of his lips. You both try to hide the laughs you’re suppressing, but soon they fill the ears of the other. “Bloody hell, ‘m really gonn’ get ye when I get home soon. T’ink I might tear dat off ye soon as I walk in da door.”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” you admit, a blush warming your cheeks. You savor the sound of his laugh in your ears, and the smile spreading across his face.

“An’ ‘m hidin’ it afta dat. Coz tha’s one o’ me favourite jumpas, an’ ye know dat, too!”

You try to act all innocent, but he knows you’re guilty as hell. He knows you. From how much milk you put in your cereal, what kind of clothes you like for when he brings you home new merch of his, what new song of his you’ll love before you’ve even heard it, often why you’re crabby although sometimes he claims not to know, and while he’s gone he always knows what time you’re doing homework or when you go to bed. He never forgets a goodnight call.

“What am I gonna do wit’ ye, bub,” he sighs, scratching at his stubbly neck. Although he tries to act annoyed, a smile finds it way back onto his face as he stares into the camera. “How’s yer day been since I talked t’ ya dis mornin’? Well, mornin’ fer me.”

“It’s been fine. It’s gross here - it’s all rainy and cold,” you explain, the words guiding your eyes to the misty windows. “It kinda makes for a good studying day, though. I got a few assignments done, and then I was going to make some dinner soon, seeing it’s half-past 6.”

“I s’pose I shouldn’ be sendin’ ye photos o’ tha hot an’ sunny day we’re ‘avin’ here, then,” Niall chuckles, a teasing gleam in his eye. “But tha’s good ye got sum stuff done. Whatcha gonna make fer dinna? Did ye eat up all t’ose frozen meals I made fer ya befo’ I left?”

“No, I still have a few left. That’s a good idea, though. I didn’t really want to cook,” you smile, watching his soon mirror your own. Fuck that few second delay, you think to yourself, finding it hard to ignore.

His face freezes for a few seconds, making you sigh. The picture grows blurry but then he starts moving again. “Sorry, love, connection got bad fer a bit there. What’d ye say ye were makin’ fo dinna?” he repeats, his voice sounding far away, reminding you that he’s halfway across the world. In your chest, your heart squeezes at the thought, one that you can’t push away as well lately.

“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“No, tell me. I wanna know. I like t’ hear all t’hese li’l details, coz they make me feel like ‘m there wit’ you,” Niall insists. You swallow, feeling emotions come back up. Yeah, no thanks, you say inaudibly to yourself.

“Um, I guess one of the lasagna pieces you froze. It’s been sounding good to me lately.”

“Mmmm, ye it does sound good. Maybe ‘ll ‘ave it fer dinna tonight, too. Can be like we had dinna togetha,” he says in his Irish lilt.

This time, the words hit you harder, and it’s hard to hide the effect they have on you. Tearing your eyes away from the screen, you try to focus on your breathing to will the feelings away.

“Ye holdin’ up okay, sweetheart?” Niall ponders, once again proving how well he knows you. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence, bad timing, or he’s feeling the same way.

Exhaling slowly, you swallow past the lump in your throat. Returning your eyes to his inquisitive blues, your insides tighten at the sight. One that is so comforting and relaxing, but at the same time, it can be so painful you can’t bear it.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine,” you mumble, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Ye don’ gotta lie t’ me, y’know,” he almost whispers, before his bottom lip comes between his teeth. “T’ese guitar lessons ‘ave made it a li’l easier fer me dis time ‘round. I mean, fook, ‘s neva easy, but it takes me mind off it. I hope it does fer ye too, bub.”

You can hardly see the tip of his nose as his head has fallen. The plucking of strings follows the sound of his voice, but you’re unsure if he’s distracted by his guitar or if he’s doing it on purpose. “I feel like I always come t’ love ye a li’l mo’ when ‘m away, but now teachin’ ye guitar makes me love ye a li’l more too. Didn’ even t’ink dat was possible,” Niall admits with a small laugh, his striking blue eyes returning to yours.

“Okay, you’re really going to make me cry now, so stop it,” you confess in tear-choked words. True to your word, tears obscure your vision within seconds. You laugh, but you know it sounds fake and out of place.

“Ye betta not start cryin’, or else ye know I will too. So ye knock dat off right now, young lady,” Niall says firmly, but you hear the wavering of his voice. “‘Kay maybe dis will stop yer cryin’. Imma hide all me jumpas when I get home so ye stop bloody stealin’ ‘em, maybe me gym shorts too. Ye think I don’ know, but I know where ye hide ‘em, love. Know ye hide ‘em in da linen closet. Found sum ‘d been searchin’ all ova fo’ when I went t’ put new bedsheets on da last time. So yer secret’s out.”

His bright laugh licks your wounds, but the effect doesn’t stay. Because then you hear him sniffle, and your eyes drop to your lap. “‘s hopefully da last time we’ll hafta do dis, with ye ‘avin’ t’ stay back when I go on tour fer ye courses, but-.”

“Yeah, I registered for the fall and my advisor worked with me to be online for the rest of my degree. I just spoke to her yesterday about it,” you reveal. Lifting your eyes to his reddening ones, a smile splits your lips as you deliver the news.

“Aw, babe, tha’s wonderful! Couldn’ ‘ave heard betta news today than dat. T’ink ye jus’ made me whole bloody day!” Niall grins, pumping his arms in the air with a cheer. But as his laugh fades away, you watch him wipe under his eyes. “I know it doesn’ take ‘way da pain right now, tho’. Coz I feel meself hurtin’ everytime I wanna tell ye sumthin’, show ye sumthin’, or when I reach for ye in da middle o’ da night. Even miss ye on t’ese video calls.”

His quiet sobs accompany yours as tears trail down your cheeks. Hiccuping, you let the feelings out that you’ve been packing away for a rainy day like today. With your heavy workload this week, you didn’t want to distract yourself with the tears. You left them until nighttime, lying in your cold bed with his side empty. No laughs heard under the covers, or his fingers dancing across your ticklish ribs, or waking up to kisses along your jaw with his voice floating across your skin. None of that. You think that although the house is empty and you can hear his voice over the phone, you feel the most lonely at night and waking up alone.

“Niall,” you barely get out in between tears, and heavy thoughts. As a tear spills onto your cheek, your eyes focus on his head of hair bent over his guitar.

“But I told meself dis’ mornin’, only five mo’ days, Niall. Then tomorro’ it’ll be four, an’ then t’ree an’ befo’ not much longa, ‘s zero. Then I getta t’ come home t’ ye wearin’ me clothes, dat I know I bitch ‘bout, but I really do love,” he divulges, guitar notes floating in the air amongst his words. “Five mo’ days ‘til I can slobber ye all ova wit’ kisses, an’ fall asleep wit’ ye in me arms.”

“And steal your clothes back, and play guitar together,” you hum, watching a tear splash onto the shiny surface of your guitar.

“Mmmmhmm, an’ ‘til then ‘ll keep teachin’ ye ova FaceTime an’ bloody Snapchat,” he guffaws, pulling up the corners of your lips happily. “An’ maybe if ‘m lucky ‘ll get sum otha pics on Snapchat.”

Shaking your head, you can’t hold back the laugh behind your lips. His loud one echoes yours soon after, your cheeks growing red.

“Oh God, only five more days,” you sigh, clucking your tongue. He lifts his head, and although he’s on the other side of the planet, somehow you can feel his eyes glassy with tears stare into your soul.

“Ye, an’ yer gonna get sick o’ me with how much ‘m gonna be lovin’ on ye.”

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angryinternetduck · 4 years

Text

Sunflower, Volume Five

a teeny bit over 2.2k words on writing music, first impressions, and peppermint. no warnings I can think of. this is part five of the Sunflower Series! happy reading :)

part one | part two | part three | part four

Only Angel was, in fact, fun to record, although it got quite a bit irritating after playing through six or seven times, as all songs seemed to do. They got through it, though, and Carolina too, before setting aside a day for just writing.

Harry worked with Olivia and Charlotte to finalize the melody for the song Olivia had come up with a few weeks before, which actually worked brilliantly, and they were finished with the melody and sound the night they started.

Charlotte decided to head to a bar with the others, but Harry stayed with Olivia to start working on the lyrics. He was sat at the piano, a pencil behind his ear and his notebook propped in front of him.

As soon as Charlotte left the room, Olivia grinned and jumped onto the lid of the piano, sliding across its surface to sit in front of Harry with her guitar on her lap. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged innocently. “What?”

“Charlotte would have a fit if she saw you like that.”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Olivia replied with a wink.

“Whatever you say,” Harry laughed. He handed her the notebook and asked, “Have any ideas, then?” Olivia sighed, slipping the pencil from behind Harry’s ear and fiddling with it. “Well, I was thinking about the whole…” She paused, tapping the eraser of the pencil against the piano before asking, “You know the whole, oh, it’s a sign of the times, thing?”

“Er - yeah, sort of.”

“What if we did something along those lines?”

“Yeah, it sort of sounds like that, doesn’t it? All sad and shit?” Olivia nodded, and Harry played the melody again. He frowned, playing it again, and then remembered, “Oh, and there was something Char and I were working on -” He started again, singing along. “Just stop your crying, it’ll be alright…”

“Yeah!” Olivia exclaimed. “It could be that and - and, uh - just stop your crying, and then, it’s a sign of the times.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, yeah, that works.” He played it again, twice, once with each ending, and then Olivia played the chords on her guitar and echoed softly, “Sad and shit.” She looked up. “Like the end of the world, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“...just stop your crying,” Olivia sang, “it’s a sign of the times… now that it’s the - hope it’s not the final…” She frowned. “Welcome to the final show…” Harry nodded, playing the melody, and added, “Hope you’re wearing your best clothes…”

Olivia grinned and mimicked his accent, “Proper brilliant, you are.”

Harry scoffed, looking up at her. “I don’t sound like that at all!”

“Whatever,” Olivia murmured with a grin, picking up the pencil and writing something down in the notebook. Harry messed about on the piano, suggesting more lyrics, and Olivia added on.

They stayed up well past two am, just playing with words and phrases until the others came back from the bar. Olivia slid off the piano only after they’d gotten through a verse and finished the chorus, and Harry was tempted to kiss her when she said goodnight before walking into her room.

Instead, he told himself not to be a fool and went to bed.

♬♩♪♩

They finished Sign of the Times fairly quickly, but recording it took a while. The song Olivia had started eventually became Ever Since New York, which was recorded pretty fast. Jeff was pressuring them to finalize more songs, though, so they took off another day to dedicate to writing.

Unfortunately, Harry was pretty brain dead by then, what with staying up for hours with Olivia to finish both Sign of the Times and Ever Since New York, so he spent most of the day just resting and watching rom coms with Adam and Charlotte while Olivia and Sarah sat in the other room working on Comfortable Silence.

A few minutes into My Best Friend’s Wedding, a paper airplane landed on his lap. He glanced into the other room, confused, and Sarah was rolling her eyes as Olivia grinned and gestured for him to open it.

To Julia Roberts’s biggest fangirl in the living room -

Sooo I called my friend who just got dumped (heartbreak is the best inspo yk)...

I saw your friend that I met last year

They said you’re happy now

I see you gave them my old T-shirt

That really hurt like hell

They say it silently, no not with their words

But oh yes it’s written, it’s all over their face -

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why don’t you ever tell me straight to my face?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too…

idk about some of that but uhhhh idk

So. Thoughts?

From, the dining table

Harry read it over again and nodded, flashing her the thumbs up, but Olivia shook her head. She mimed writing, and Harry frowned, glancing around him for a pencil, and Olivia sighed, chucking a pencil at him.

Charlotte squeaked as it hit her in the arm, and Harry rolled his eyes, smiling despite himself. “Sorry, Char,” he murmured, then scribbled out Like it before folding it back up and haphazardly throwing it back.

It didn’t quite work, but Olivia slid it towards her with her foot and opened it back up.

She wrote something down, and Harry watched her instead of the movie, and then Olivia threw it back. ur so boring, she’d written, and Harry scoffed, glancing over at her. He put a hand to his chest in mock hurt, and Olivia grinned.

Under that, she’d added more to the song.

I hope one day you’ll call me to tell me that you’re sorry too

But you, you never do

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Harry grinned and wrote, You’re awful dramatic, Liv - it was two weeks. He threw it towards her, and she unfolded it, read it, and flipped him off. She whispered something to Sarah, who laughed, and Harry smiled and turned back to the movie.

♬♩♪♩

Harry was starting to wonder if Olivia ever slept.

He’d come out on the porch a few days later, unable to sleep after a day long nap caused by a killer hangover, and there she was, smoking a cigar and playing her guitar softly. “Hello,” Harry said, and she looked up. “Hey,” she replied, sliding over on the bench swing.

Harry sat next to her, taking the cigar when she offered it, and inhaled deeply. “‘s good,” he said. “Sweet.” Olivia nodded. “Mhmm. Toffee, apparently.” She leaned back, fiddling with her guitar pick, and stared at the water.

Harry breathed another puff of smoke, handed it back to her, and asked, “What’d you think when you first saw me?” Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Why?” Harry rolled his eyes with a smile. “You’re always asking these deep questions - give me a chance, hm?”

There was a beat of silence as she seemed to study him, and it took all of Harry’s willpower to keep eye contact as she tucked her lip between her teeth and her brow furrowed, lost in thought.

“I thought you were awkward,” she finally said, and Harry scoffed a laugh. “You’re joking.” Olivia quirked a smile, looking back at the water and lifting the cigar to her lips. “No, really.” She smirked. “Awkward and desperate.”

“Right, well, now you’re just bullying me.”

“Oh, please,” Olivia laughed. “You didn’t even say anything! You were like, hi, and that was it! I had to, like, scramble to come up with something!” Harry scoffed again, shaking his head. “If I remember correctly -”

“Which you don’t,” she cut in with a grin.

He shot her a mocking glare and went on, “You were the one who didn’t say anything at first, and then I introduced myself!” Olivia sighed and shook her head. “We were both awkward,” she concluded, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Agree to disagree.”

“God, that show sucked,” Olivia murmured, exhaling and trying to make a smoke ring before smiling at him. “Still can’t believe you wanted me in your band after that disaster.” Harry let his jaw drop dramatically. “You were amazing!”

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head. “I was awful! I forgot half the lyrics and fucked up all the chords ‘cause I was staring at -” She cut herself off, shaking her head again, and Harry grinned. “Staring at…?” he prodded.

“There was this band there that night,” Olivia said, “and one of its members” - she breathed a dreamy sigh - “oh, he was just gorgeous! I couldn’t take my eyes off him!” She grinned, mocking curiosity and propping her chin on her fist. “I can’t seem to remember his name…”

“Does it start with an H, perhaps?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and mocking curiosity right back, but Olivia shook her head, fiddling with the cigar. “Nope,” she said with a giggle. “Think it was a Z,” she said. “Zach? Zeke? Ah - Zayn.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

“Jealous, Styles?”

“You wish,” Harry replied with a grin.

There was a beat of silence.

Olivia leaned in a bit, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Harry?” she murmured.

“Hm?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t wanna be alone,” she whispered.

Harry smiled a bit, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to be, Liv.”

She met his gaze, her eyes wide and earnest. “Promise not to break my heart?”

“I promise,” Harry breathed.

And then she leaned forward, and Harry did too, and suddenly, they were kissing.

She tasted like peppermint, like toffee and vanilla and mint and smoke. She was sunshine and sugar, her lips fitting with his like puzzle pieces. She was smiling against his lips, and Harry smiled too, because she was perfect, because they were perfect, because everything was perfect.

♬♩♪♩

Harry woke up late again the next morning.

Olivia wasn’t next to him.

So Harry stood up, and stretched, and walked to the kitchen.

Olivia was at the table, on her mobile, eating toast.

“Morning,” Harry said.

“Hi!” she chirped.

“Where’re the others?” Harry asked, and Olivia sighed. “Went to the beach, according to Sarah…” Harry raised an eyebrow as he poured a cup of coffee. “Without us?” Olivia nodded. “I know. Ridiculous.” Harry smiled, stepping behind her and glancing at the screen of her phone.

“Ooh, dancehall,” he hummed, slipping the phone from her fingers. He clicked a random one, set it on the counter next to his coffee, and held out his hand. “Olivia,” he said, with all the seriousness he could muster, “may I have this dance?”

She slid his coffee towards her and took a sip. “Can’t. I’m drinking coffee.”

“Pleeeease?” Harry dragged. “I’m bored, Liv, and the house is empty. C’mon, then.” He began to dance as the music started and held out a hand. Olivia pouted. “I can’t dance,” she told him, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Prove it.”

She gave a reluctant smile and took it.

He spun her around, and she giggled.

They danced until Olivia somehow managed to end up on the kitchen island with Harry stood between her legs, snogging breathlessly, and Harry only realized the music had stopped when Olivia pulled back and murmured, “Gotta find another song…”

“Rather have a bloody song than me, hm?”

Olivia grinned, kissing his nose as she grabbed her phone. “Hey, it’s got a good melody,” she insisted, flicking through YouTube to find another video. Harry pouted, kissing her again, and said, “Want you more than any melody, Liv…”

“Fuckin’ sap,” Olivia giggled, finally finding a song and pushing her phone away to properly kiss him. Harry smiled, but Olivia sighed, pulling away again. “Others’ll be back soon,” she said, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t care,” he said, kissing her.

Olivia laughed, sliding off the counter. She held her hand out to him and, in a pitiful imitation of his British accent, she said, “Dance with me, Mr. Styles.” Harry grinned. “Only if you promise never to do that accent again.”

“Easy enough,” Olivia replied, and Harry took her hand.

And they twirled and laughed and kissed in the kitchen like it was a dance floor.

♬♩♪♩

Jamaica ended too soon.

Harry was on a plane before he knew it, heading back to rainy London.

It was good, though, he supposed. He was getting a tad home sick.

They’d written about sixty songs. Most of them were rubbish. Well, most of them weren’t even songs. More like notes mashed together that were sort of jokes but not quite. They’d gotten some good ones, though, and Harry considered the trip a success.

It was kind of strange being without the band, though.

It was very strange being without Olivia. She was going to come to London with him, but she was needed in America for something or other. But she’d given him a few cigars, and he smoked one when he got back home to London.

It was good. Tasted like peppermint.

♬♩♪♩

aaaannnnd there she is!!!! all finished!!!!! hope u enjoyed!

tell me:

1. your favorite song on hs1 2. your most recent dream 3. your favorite holiday or!!!! tell me anything your heart desires! feedback is always much appreciated :)

and if you like what you see, you can find the Sunflower Series’s masterlist here, Fine Line: Side A’s masterlist here, and my complete masterlist here!

sunflower, vol. 6

#aaaannnd that's a rap!#hope this didn't suck hehe #it's my first like....... long fic #so #here's this!!!!#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x ofc #harry styles series #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles au #fine line #jamaica harry #sunflower

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strayneoculturekids · 5 years

Text

NCT 127 Finding Out You Can Sing

Taeyong:

-wow, he’s like not surprised at all.

-The boi always knew you were a talented and beautiful human being.

-This, however, does not stop him from hyping you up and being completely in awe of your beautiful voice in the least.

-He had just come back from dance practice and!! There you were!! With your headphones in!! Just singing away!! Not even noticing him.

-He got the biggest smile and just stood there until you finished and finally looked up and saw him and then when you got embarrassed he got an even bigger smile SOMEHOW

-He would just,,, hug you bcuz wow you’re really the most incredible person and he loves you so so much. More than he can ever express. Excitement is just like FLOWING out of him

-”You should sing more often. I really, really like listening to it”

-And now whenever he’s stressed or is having trouble sleeping, he just comes to you and begs you to sing for him because it really calms him down and just,,, wow he really is so happy to have found this out

-”wow...you complete me...huh?? What do you mean I’m too cheesy?! Meanie.”

Taeil:

-Taeil thought he loved you as much as he could possibly love anything already

-he was wrong.

-You two were just hanging out and out of nowhere, you asked him to sing for you

-so ofc he did bcuz your wish is his command and he loves you so much

-but he kind of paused for a second and after thinking for a bit, he realized he had never heard you sing before and it was always just him singing so he suddenly got all excited and asked you to sing for him

-wow you got embarrassed quickly

-but also wow did the boi persist

-so after like half an hour of him just begging, you finally gave in and started singing quietly

-he was BLOWN AWAY

-he did not know how to take this new information that you were an absolutely incredible singer so he just,,, listened,,, and smiled,,, and when you finished he just gave you the biggest hug while smiling the biggest smile

-”You’re so...wow, I love you so much”

Johnny:

-Like Taeyong, Johnny isn’t really surprised at this bcuz he fucking KNOWS how absolutely incredible you are but the boi still hypes you up so much like the supportive boyfriend he is

-You guys were probably like watching a Disney movie together and a song came on and you both started singing but a few seconds in Johnny suddenly stopped singing bcuz he like JUST heard your voice

-and wow he loves you so much

-once you notice he stopped singing, you also stop singing bcuz you felt a bit self-conscious

-ya boi Johnny Seo was not having it

-”No!!! Keep singing!! It was beautiful!!”

-shouts like the extra bitch he is and like pumps his fist into the air for encouragement

-if you protest he’d probably start fucking like CHANTING some random shit

-”Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!”

-so u give in bcuz you love him unconditionally and continue singing

-and he just,,, stares in awe.

-buckle up bcuz now WHENEVER both of you have spare time, he’s gonna ask you to sing for him. His reaction to your singing is worth it though

Yuta:

-Yuta gets SO excited and has the biggest smile on the moment you agree to sing for him

-he was just practicing his singing and you were listening and holding his hand bcuz wow his voice is beautiful

-after like an hour of practicing, he takes a break bcuz his throat hurts like a mothafucking bitch

-and he’s like you should sing for me to help my throat heal quicker

-so you were like yeah sure I’ll sing for you but don’t have high expectations y’know

-holy SHIT he was blown away

-your voice,,, was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his entire life and he was pretty sure he was addicted to it

-he just like,,, smiles and watches you bcuz wow you’re the most incredible person ever and he just has so much love for you

-claps his heart out when you finish singing bcuz it was the best

-”Wah! I didn’t know you could sing! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! That was incredible!!”

-tells you that you should really sing more often and makes you promise to

Doyoung:

-Doyoung probably gets the most surprised out of all of 127

-Like,,, he wanted to surprise you by coming over to ur house bcuz he told you he wouldn’t be able to be there until the day after because he had to practice choreo

-but they ended up wrapping up quickly so he got excited and was like !!!

-Doyoung quickly rushed over to your house, hoping to catch you before you went to sleep so he didn’t have to wake you up

-when he got there and opened, he heard,,, this beautiful singing

-at first, he just thought you were playing a song but as he got closer to your room, he realized!! That was your voice!!

-He opened up the door SO quickly and you liked jumped a bit and looked over to him. His mouth was slightly agape but you could just tell that he was so excited

-”Wah! That sounded so good!”

-he probably just walks up to you and starts gushing abt how he thought it was an actual professional singer and how you’re just so incredible

-probably asks you to harmonize with him. Records it and sends it to the NCT group chat bcuz he’s so proud

-asks you to sing other members parts in songs when he’s practicing at home now,,, although most of the time the ‘practice’ ends up with him just admiring your voice

Jaehyun:

-gosh, a proud boyfriend

-almost acts like a parent who just watched their kid win best student of the year

-he just comes home, completely tired after the long day and flops down on your lap, much to your disappointment bcuz he’s super sweaty

-so you just whine and tell him to go take a shower

-he shakes his head slightly and closes his eyes,,, he’s super tired

-so,,, ofc you just HAVE to let him sleep there now bcuz he just looks so worn out and you’d feel bad if you kicked him off

-”sing for me”

-after you hesitated, he grabbed your hand and just did a small little ‘please’ and you couldn’t even THINK of not singing for the precious boy

-so you did and after a few seconds,,, his eyes just,,, shot open

-grabs you by the shoulders and instantly tells you how amazing you are with the biggest smile ever glued to his face

-he finally calms down and asks you to keep singing but u say only if he goes to take a shower.

-he agrees bcuz he would do anything to hear you sing again

-and so he takes a shower and comes to lie his head back down on your lap and just,,, falls asleep to you singing

Winwin:

-Winwin gets,,, flustered when he hears you sing for the first time

-Winwin wouldn’t ask you to sing, if he were to find out, it would be by accident

-Something like you had this song stuck in your head the entire day so you were constantly humming it

-and when you got home, you just started singing bcuz you thought Winwin was out

-he was not

-he steps into the room, mouth agape, red ears and cheeks

-boi would NOT know how to react bcuz wow you’re just such??? a good singer??? and why did he not know about this before???

-”That was...wow...”

-when he sees that you’re embarrassed too, he just walks up to you, grabs both of your hands and looks into your eyes, telling you that he really meant it

-now whenever he’s stressed or needs to calm down you can bet your ass he’s gonna come and timidly ask you to sing for him and he’s so adorable how can you deny him

Jungwoo:

-Jungwoo has a very soft voice but we all know it’s been recently revealed he’s actually an evil, excited, little devil. (but he’s still soft)

-he’d hype you up SO MUCH

-he just loves you so much and hearing you sing in your beautiful voice was magic

-a bit like Johnny in his intensity with hyping you up. He might even speak some english bcuz that’s how hype he is right now

-you were probably just singing randomly just bcuz you felt like it and Jungwoo notices and he gets SO HAPPY

-he like,,, claps his hands and probably starts doing small jumps up and down

-if you stop he furrows his eyebrows and asks why you stopped

-”Keep going! It was so good!”

-his wording when he speaks english is sometimes aggressive so I can definitely see that happening here

-“What happened, man?!?!”

-he probably only asks you to sing again on rare occasions but it’s because he cherishes it so much

Mark:

(I think I’m gonna do rapping for this one just because)

-boi would be SHOOK

-y’all were just hanging out together, probably watching NCT crack videos or looking at memes bcuz it just be like that sometimes

-then you’d be like,,, I wanna watch some NCT M/V’s

-and he’s like sure why not let’s go

-you ask him to put on Mad City bcuz that shit’s good and also it’s got ya boi Mark Lee in it with only two other people

-he plays it and,,, you rap each verse almost perfectly, even Taeyong’s rap, which mind you, is NCT’s fastest rap in one of their songs, so ofc you mess up here and there

-and Mark just,,, stares in awe,,, his mouth agape

-”woah, wait...you can rap?!”

-wow boi is surprised and you just kind of shrug nervously and suddenly Mark gets a big smile and is like woaaahhh that’s so cool and plus you’re really good at it too

-he’s pretty sure he just fell even more in love with you and he didn’t think that was possible??? But apparently so

-now he gets you to rap with him all the time, he finds it so fun and cool to be able to do this together with you now

Haechan:

-Um??? When he finds out how well you can sing he’s almost,,, offended by how good your voice is

-like he realized he had never heard you sing before while you guys were just chilling together

-so he’s like you should sing

-and you’re like yeah sure why not lezgeddit

-so you sing

-and he just

-??????

-SHOOK

-”Woah?! You can sing so good though????”

-probably challenges you to a high note battle or something bcuz he likes turning things into a competition and is an extra bitch lmao

-don’t get me wrong though, he’s majorly impressed. Probably fell way more in love with you but is too proud to admit it,,, you can totally tell by the way he blushes tho

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pinkykitten · 5 years

Text

The Shoulder Touch

Peaky Blinders

Isaiah Jesus x female! reader

Warning: none

Specifics: romance, comedy, fluff, one-shot, race neutral reader, based on a movie, gifs

People: isaiah jesus, tommy shelby, arthur shelby, michael shelby, john shelby, finn shelby, bar woman (oc)

Words: 2,399

Summary: isaiah jesus meeting you for the first time since you moved to small heath, he does the hey from spider man into the spider verse.

Authors Note: hey...so this is not an au its just like based, gave me inspiration for this fic. this is my first peaky fic so im sorry if i get some things wrong or somethings just sound stupid ur girl far from perfect. isaiah is actually one of my fav characters and miles i love him with all my heart and soul. if u havent watched spider man into the spider verse pls do urself a favor and do that rn. if you want to be tagged or request anything peaky blinders pls do loves. also this was not requested.

(not my gif! do not own!)

You were from London. Your whole life was rooted there, family, friends, every thing you’ve ever known. When you became of age to make decisions for yourself you moved to Small Heath. Every one you knew thought of you as crazy, insane to make a move to number one some where you didn’t quite know and number two (hEhheEHEehEHe im immature) some where unfortunately was more poor than you were accustomed to. You wanted to move there to find your independence. You wanted to find a simple job and live a simple life with just you yourself. All your life you were shielded away from almost everything, just once you wanted to see what the world had to offer.

But who knew it would be this hard!

“I did not realize it was going to be this bad looking.” You complained to well a goat. You were currently making your way on a boat to Birmingham. Seated with yes some passengers and also some animals you could see the shore nearby. “Well its now or never thats what I always say. Thank you for keeping me company friend.” You stood up and patted your skirt. Anticipation easing within you as you glance at the unknown.

You got off the boat and set to your new life. Yes there were some characteristics different from London but you learned to look past them. You peered down at the letter your boss had sent you. You were to start work the next day. You were a journalist, writing was your passion and seeing as this area was not so big as London than maybe you could gain popularity here.

“Its a good dream to have y/n,” you said to yourself as you headed to your apartment.

The whole day was about putting your little items you had and sticking them into your small apartment. Then since you needed food to you know live you set on going to the market not far from your living space. The day was set then with buying new outfits for your job. You did want to look spiffy! (girl thats me i wanna be spiffy naw no sticky cuz im thicccc like skippy)

Towards the end of the day you already had your dinner and decided since it was your first night here to have some fun. You made you way to a pub nearby called The Garrison. As you made your way inside you saw the majority of the people in there were...bad. You were not used to seeing these types of people. Deciding to just try to enjoy your time here you make you way to the bar.

You scanned around as you sat on a stool. Every one was mingling and you were the only odd ball. You crossed your legs all primp and proper and awaited service. A unknown woman came beside you to order her drink, “whiskey.” You admired how she looked, you could tell she knew her stuff. She seemed from around here. Her dress showed cleavage and as you peered down at your dress you thought that for this setting you needed to be a bit more out there. You examined her outfit and then yours and compared to hers yours looked like a little girls dress. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were copying her. You opened up a few buttons and awaited for her to leave to order. Your accent seemed even different from every one else’s. “Yes can I please have a whiskey as well.” You were clueless! You had never drank in your life so this was new, you just imitated what the other woman did. As you got your drink you took one tiny sip and almost spit it all out. The taste was very strong, you tried not to choke so as not to make a show. As you just endured the time there you could feel eyes behind your back.

You secretly wanted to see so you tried to look back quickly but you were too quick about it, you didn’t even get a glimpse. You could see from the corner of your eye them still staring. “What in god’s name?” You cursed under your breath as you stumbled off the stool, not knowing it was that high from the ground. Proudly got your drink and strutted to the group of men looking at you.

“Is something the matter men? I have seen you all staring at me for the past hour now, care to explain?” You sassed to the group of (delicious sexy men called the peaking puffin blinders DUHHHH) men that wore nice suits. There were a couple of them, some of them wearing the flat caps. There was a man with a neat hairstyle and a mustache, another man with his cap crooked eyeing you up and down like you were the prey. Another man with the lightest blue eyes you had ever seen, a young one with broccoli looking hairstyle (im srry finn’s hair looks so stupid!), another young one that was handsome, and another young one but he looked the most different from every one. He was dark skinned, he caught your eye. All the men looked at you sexually but all you could see was the young dark man staring into your eyes. You took a gulp feeling the bashfulness creep up on you.

“Sorry you just seem you’re not from around here,” spoke the man with ice like eyes.

“Well, you are right about that. I am not. I’m from London...actually.” You tried to sound ferocious but that just made them like you more.

“Really, London? We just were looking at you because well love you look so alone and a beautiful girl should never be alone. Names John.” He stood up and gave you a hand shake. They all introduced themselves except the one man you actually wanted to get to know.

“My name is y/n. Hey you, you didn’t say your name. Whats your name?” You smiled at him. You could tell that he was getting nervous and a bit bashful as well. He gulped and Michael had to nudge him to get him out of his trance with you. “Right well um, my names Isaiah.”

“Oooh Isaiah, what a beautiful name.” Isaiah thought his name sounded way more beautiful when you said it.

They all could feel the tension and the atmosphere of you two. Arthur coughed in order to break the awkwardness.

“May I sit?” You found the courage to ask as you stood there holding your drink. John and Arthur were about to go against you but Tommy and Isaiah both in unison stood up for you and said yes. “Why thank you.”

“So y/n, what do you do?” The raspy voice of Tommy came out.

“I’m a journalist. I love writing about the news and really I do enjoy just writing. It is my passion.” You took a sip of your drink and almost made a face of disgust. (omg i think i made that face now lol i just put in a jolly rancher but the apple one) “Wow this is strong indeed. How can you all drink that?” You cough into your hand and Arthur and John pat your back to steady yourself.

“You’re drinking the wrong thing love,” Tommy says as he hands you a glass of what their drinking.

“Right.” You brace yourself and take a huge gulp of the drink. You start coughing again and you can see that Isaiah is worried about you.

“Too strong for ya,” John laughs with the others.

“Nope, its truly delicious.” You hide yourself under the table for a second and try not to barf, “that was truly disgusting.” You whisper only to yourself.

Isaiah appears, his head under the table, “you good love?”

“Am I good, well that drink was surely not but I think I can manage. Thanks.” As you lift your head up you’re greeted with his face close to yours. “Oh hello there, Isaiah.”

Michael then went under, “um what are you all doing down here? Are we having a party?” You chuckled and got back up from under the table.

After having time to talk to the men and having a good chat you stand up and stretch, “well I think this is where I should part, it was lovely meeting you men and thank you for the drink.” You put money on the table but Isaiah puts his hand out to stop you, “no need. It was on us.”

You grinned at Isaiah and made you way to the exit but as you walked outside you heard the pounding of foot steps behind you. “Wait y/n!”

You turn around to bump into Isaiah, “whoops, yes?”

Isaiah was out of breath but he stood up straight and looked around shyly. “I was wondering, would you like to meet me here tomorrow? Just me and you, no one else?”

“Just you and me?” You pretended to give it some thought, “of course.”

Isaiah gave you a lovesick grin but then shook it off and pretended to be this tough guy, “alright, see you then.”

You walked out of plain sight and Michael came out, “look at you, you really like her a lot don’t you?”

Finn stepped out to greet Isaiah, “look at him. He’s already in love.” They both made fun of him and Isaiah shook his head, “you bastar*s.”

Isaiah’s P.O.V.

The date was tomorrow and Isaiah felt clueless about what to do with you. He was nervous.

“I don’t know there’s just something about this girl Michael. She’s different and I really like her.” Isaiah explained to him while him and Michael and Finn sat in the Shelby Parlour.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous for anything,” Finn raised his brow.

“Look I know you’re shy, I sometimes get like that with me girls but you need to only know one thing in this life,” Michael instructed him, placing his hand on Isaiah’s shoulder.

“I’m all ears.”

Michael chuckled, “do you know about the shoulder touch?”

“What? I mean of course I do, but um explain it to me again. I must of forgotten.”

“Right. When you see y/n tomorrow you waltz to her and with a dashing smile you put your hand on her shoulder and give her a sexual face saying, hey.” Michael did that to Isaiah and it took everything of Isaiah to not laugh at his friends face.

“Are you sure about this?”

“My friend its biology. Every girl, including y/n you do that to will fall at your feet.”

“So like this, I just go to y/n and say...hey.”

Michael shook his head, “no its like this...hey.” His voice became deeper.

“Heyyy,” Isaiah’s turned his voice deeper imitating Michael.

“No, hey,” Michael did it again, smooth.

“He-ey,” Isaiah’s voice cracked as he tried to be as charming as Michael.

(not my gif! do not own!)

“You’re ridiculous mate,” they all have a good laugh about it. “But you can do this, even though you’re a little rusty in some areas we believe in you.”

Finn gave Isaiah a freckled smile and nodded.

“Then I’m ready.”

End of Isaiah P.O.V.

As you entered the pub your eyes searched for the handsome face of Isaiah. You subconsciously pull your dress down and swash away any imaginary lint. Biting your lips in nervousness you spot Isaiah. Feeling all giddy you motion to him with a skip to your step, your giggle like music to his ears. You wave to him with a, “hello there.”

Isaiah sees you and with a shy grin he hands you some flowers, “these are for you.”

As you grab the bouquet your hand lightly touches Isaiah’s hand. He coughs awkwardly and you gasp in awe at the beauty he has given you, “my word Isaiah these are extremely beautiful.”

“Yeah, I got them because they remind me of you.”

You knit your brows and give a oblivious look, “oh, in what way?”

Isaiah gulped, “they are beautiful just like you.”

You laughed at his cheesy pick up lines, “Isaiah you flatter me too much, but I should say the same about you.” You come in contact with him and get as close as possible. “You handsome man.” With a leap of faith (YASSSS SPIDEY REFERENCE FOR DAYS LOSERS ITS ALL JUST A LEAP OF FAITH PEEPS) you placed your delicate hands on his chest, the fabric of his suit and his body making your cold hands warm.

Isaiah was having a nervous break down. He was trying to find what to do next with you. “The shoulder touch!!!” He thought as he pushed you back.

“Umm?” Was all you could mutter when he awkwardly, but you can tell he was trying to be smooth, placed his hand on your shoulder, “hey.” His voice deepened.

You sucked in your lips and tried to understand his motive, “um...hi?”

The breath that Isaiah was holding finally came out and he look defeated, “I’m sorry love. I’m trying to be this tough man but truly I’m not when I’m with you I get nervous and shy like a little school boy. Look what you did to me y/n.”

You made an evil grin and pushed Isaiah on the booth. Cautiously, you sat on his lap, the end of your dress pooling around his thighs. “So I make you nervous?”

Isaiah looked like he was well lets just say bust a nut. His heart was hammering so hard and fast, with a quick nod you got your answer.

You crossed your arms, “you’re so cute! You make me nervous and shy as well Isaiah Jesus (take the wheel) that makes me feel that you actually care.”

Isaiah sat up straighter, holding your waist against him so you wouldn’t fall. He placed your hand on his chest, “you feel that gorgeous? That’s what you make a man that ain’t scared of nothing do.”

“Funny our hearts match, its like they’re dancing.” You gave a quick peck on Isaiah’s cheek and sat beside him, holding his hand.

Isaiah felt now more at ease with you, rubbing his calloused hand against yours, “you’re something else y/n.”

You laugh, “you too lad!” You placed your hand on his shoulder, “I just wanted to say though...hey,” you deepened your voice.

Tag list: @harrington-lover, @angelgl16, @perfectlybeautifulsuit, @hyehoney, @haven-prelude (wont let me tag), @leasly, @totally-alexa21, @creamy-pasta-boi, @multireese, @fanfictionrecommendations-com, @prentisskelley, @malereaderforkpop (wont let me tag), @guardian-of-cookies, @justafangirl-97, @teenageshitposts (wont let me tag), @andreaoreas, @dippergravity (wont let me tag), @some-booty, @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople, @collectiveyou, @wtfisalltherandoms, @fangirl-4-life415

wanna be tagged in my crap? comment!

#peaky blinders #fanfiction #imagines #x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #isaiah jesus #isaiah jesus x reader #isaiah jesus imagine #miles morales #marvel #spider man into the spider verse #race neutral reader #not requested #omg i loved writing this #this was so much fun to write like i c h o k e d with laughter #the shoulder touch

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blackaquokat · 5 years

Note

64 and Acting Attorney?

Could be considered canon to my Acting Attorney ‘verse “Between the Sinners and the Saints.”

64. “It’s two sugars, right?”

Oo00oO

Foronce, Mark is at their favorite café, Amy’s Planet, before his attorney friendis. He assumes they got caught up at the office, so he goes ahead and placestheir order.

Sureenough, a few minutes later they burst into the café and rush to their seat,heaving like they ran all the way here.

Whenhe asks as much, they admit to it. “I needed the exercise,” they saydismissively between deep, heaving gulps of air. “I’m behind that desk so muchnow…”

Markshakes his head. “You know, I could have just picked you up.”

“ThenI wouldn’t have an excuse to run dramatically down the street like a movie herotrying to catch a plane. This is the most theatrical thing I’ve done in years.”

Markbursts into laughter. “That is…very sad. Maybe I need to put more effort intogetting you drunk at our get-togethers.”

Theyscoff. “You wish.”

Justthen, a waitress brings by their coffee orders.

“It’stwo sugars, right?” Mark clarifies. “That’s what I asked for.”

Theysmile and breathe in the steam emanating from the mug. “That’s exactly right.Now, what have you been up to? Did you hear back from your agent about thatmovie role you wanted?”

Markgrins and catches them up on his more recent acting offers and, in turn, askshow the new assistant attorney gig is coming along for them.

Oo00oO

Onedisastrous house party and too many decades later, Mark is in the kitchenscrambling eggs while the coffee pot does its job.

Thefamiliar tread of the District Attorney echoes down the stairwell. Mark quellsthe spike of pain at the lack of recognition in their eyes.

(Hestill can’t decide if he’s ready for them to remember everything he’s done.)

Theyslide onto a stool on the opposite side of the kitchen bar and grin at him,sleep still tugging at their eyes. “The eggs are the only reason I’m not stillin bed.”

“Fairenough.”

Afew minutes later, he puts a plate of eggs in front of them and then offersthem a mug of coffee.

Theypause after their first sip. “What did you put in this?”

“Twosugars,” Mark answers on reflex. Then he freezes as he realizes what he’s done.

Theirbrow furrows. “It’s…I think that’s how I took it before, but…how do you know that?”

“Ididn’t!” he hurries to say. “Tyler takes it the same way, it’s just a habit.”The lie leaves too quickly.

Theystare at him, and Mark wonders, not for the first time and most definitely notthe last, what the hell they’re thinking.

Eventuallythey shake their head and sip at the coffee again. “Thanks, then.”

Marksighs in relief.

ThenMark makes a mental note to tell Tyler that he’ll have to adjust his coffeepreferences for a while.

Oo00oO

100Ways to Say I Love You: Send me a Pairing and a Number!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @ren-mon , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @im-also-dead-inside , @timelords13 , @ur-fairy-god-dragon , @conceitedink , @unknown-maned-wolf , @ohnoimshook , @mayazen , @skyewardlight , @gabs-ink , @purple-anxiety-blog

#acting attorney #y/n district attorney #actor mark #actor!mark #wkm #kat writes #who killed markiplier

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darkouter · 5 years

Text

for barty, i’m going to create a canon divergent continuation bc he deserves to flourish and bug every one of ur muses

first: a reminder that my barty is book based, tho i might take inspo from the movies cause mixed canon is beautiful

anyways, rather than getting his soul a good succ by a dementor, mcgonagall mcmanages to ward off the dementor with a patronus. she and cornelius fudge think that they reacted too late, however, and that barty is a Goner. in reality, he just got overwhelmed with the feeling of hopelessness and despair, not to mention he is TERRIFIED of dementors after being tortured by them in azkaban, so he knocks out from the short encounter. mcgonagall and fudge try to take control of the situation with the dementor by removing it from the castle, and leave barty unattended (since they think he’s a husk of a person, so they weren’t worried about him leaving; also, they were addled by the whole affair and not being too careful). barty ends up waking up with no one around, so he makes his getaway.

in my canon, it is Fact that the dementor jumped his bones because voldemort ordered it to, and barty knows this. he knows that voldemort was making moves on getting the dementors to join him. barty was a iiability; voldemort knew that he needed a contingency plan in case he was caught. barty is none too pleased by this betrayal. his best and worst trait is that he is severely loyal, and having that bond broken is the worst possible thing you could do to hurt him. he spent over a decade suffering because of his short and anemic time as a death eater, only ever joining due to his admiration and imagined kinship with voldemort. barty never believed in the cause / cared about being pure-blood or about muggles. he knew tom riddle wasn’t a pureblood, and voldemort’s relationship with his father reflecting barty’s relationship with his own father is almost entirely the reason he ever created a relationship with voldemort. he felt understood and cared for, and that’s all he ever wanted; voldemort was like some paternal figure to him, in a sense. he realizes now that voldemort simply targeted and groomed him due to being barty crouch sr.’s son, and that was a huge tool for voldemort to use.

barty never tortured the longbottoms. he was present for the event, but it was more or less an induction/hazing of sorts for him by the lestranges. again, he didn’t really care much for the cause, and most of his time as a death eater was spent as a resource for ministry intel; he spent a lot of time with voldemort personally for the sake of this grooming & information gathering. really, he didn’t particularly want to participate in that side of death eater activities, and he was in over his head. he used to be a goody two shoes for most of his life (gotta impress daddy!), and being a death eater was more of an act of teenage rebellion and hitting back at the world for being neglected and abused by his father, as well as his friends joining the group (again, loyalty is his downfall). he initially got involved because of his friends being death eaters.

for the longest time, however, barty became convinced that he was responsible for the longbottoms ending up in st. mungo’s. he couldn’t rationalize why his own father would send him to azkaban without bothering to listen to him if he hadn’t done it, so he coped with that feeling of helplessness by reasoning with himself that he had to have done it. that’s the only way he can have some sense of control over his situation; that he got here for a reason, of his own volition he participated. he made the choice, and the consequences are logical in that context. these delusions were fertilized by the dementors slowly making him unhinged; he was on death’s door before his father and mother pulled him out of azkaban because of how badly they were affecting him.

now, in this canon divergent verse, he is on the run. but he no longer considers himself a death eater. the dementor’s attempted kiss traumatized him in a way that began to unravel his delusions, shaking him loose from voldemort’s grasp. everything is becoming quite clear to him.

he is very angry.

he isn’t part of the order or anything. he’s just picking off death eaters when he can, as it’s the only real thing driving him now. voldemort was his only motivation before, and he has to grasp for something else now; he picked revenge. otherwise, he’s blending in with muggles a lot, as that’s the safest space to be for him. the ministry isn’t prioritizing him as a target like they should because fudge is too damn busy discrediting dumbledore, and he fears that catching barty might result in confessions or evidence that favors dumbledore’s side (”but barty is just a delusional fanatic death eater, so nothing he says would be accurate anyways” is fudge’s logic to back this up).

he’s kind of working through his emotions about how he’s acted now, and that’s where his character arc is at in this verse. he’s armed with his father’s wand and carries their matching pocket watches with him (guess who has hangups still! maybe you could have worked that out if you hadn’t turned your dad into a fucking femur u dipshit). he’s been trying to remove the dark mark from his arm obsessively, and it’s kind of self-harm at this point because it’s not supposed to be removable by any means. he has a permanent “scar” of sorts on his inner forearm, like a patch of discoloration that’s just....... gray because he’s been experimenting with trying to get rid of the dark mark. it makes him itchy just knowing it’s there.

also i have settled on a fc finally, here is bryan dechart, a good boy

#damn icb i typed this up............... almost feel like im a proper roleplayer again #| HC: BARTEMIUS CROUCH JR.#| OOC: HEY GHOULS!

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mildlymaddy · 7 years

Photo

Here’s the 2nd part to my little Niam Photograph AU verse! :) 1st part available here.

Liam’s first instinct is to turn back and go hide, until he remembers that they don’t actually know each other. That boy has no idea who Liam is, is blissfully unaware that pictures of him hang in a total stranger’s bedroom. He’d probably be horrified if he knew, actually.

Liam feels his cheeks heat up, but he stays put, a little ways away, looking at the boy as he finishes his song. When ‘Neil’ looks up, grinning at the applause, his eyes fall on Liam for a second and glide away with no sign of recognition, which hurts in a really absurd way.

It’s just so strange, seeing him here, in real life, in three dimensions. Hearing his boisterous laughter rising above the crowd. He shouts something in the direction of the house, and Liam realizes with a jolt that he’s Irish.

Then Louis appears out of nowhere and swings an arm around Liam’s shoulders, dragging him towards the barbecue (Louis always dumps barbecue duties on Liam, which is fine with Liam because he likes his meat to taste like meat, and not like burnt charcoal), and Liam loses sight of the boy in the crowd.

He spends the evening catching glimpses of him. Laughing with a pretty brunette, clinking beer bottles with a man twice his size whom he looks really friendly with, boldly asking Harry for a cocktail. And, on one terrifying occasion, standing right in front of the barbecue when Liam looks up from the string of sausages he’s just put on the grill.

“D’you have any burgers left?” the boy asks, his eyes impossibly blue, his hair mussed up like someone’s been ruffling it with their hand, and who wouldn’t want to do that, really, and Liam has to gulp down before he can answer. He probably looks like a right twat, his forehead sweaty from the heat of the barbecue, wearing that stupid Batman apron that Louis bought him because Louis’s the best, alright, he loves that apron, but he’d never planned on wearing in front of someone so perfect as the boy from the pictures. He needs to get a grip.

“Sorry, just sausages at this point,” he says, because it’s eleven in the evening and he hasn’t had any burgers for a good two hours now. Did his voice always sound so stupid? Why didn’t anyone tell him before?

“Knew I should have stolen Bressie’s,” the boy mutters, and leaves with a “Thanks anyway, pal!” before Liam can make a fool of himself by offering to go buy some more burgers or begging him to have some sausage instead (just thinking about it makes Liam want to bang his head against the nearest wall).

By the time everyone has left, Liam hasn’t talked to the boy again, doesn’t even know his name.

“You alright hon?” Jade asks him as he lets himself slump down in the chair next to hers.

Liam rests his forehead against the living room table, arms curled up on either side. It’s sticky, but he doesn’t even care. “No,” he says, grunting for emphasis. He feels Jade’s fingers carding through his hair, and hooks his ankle around hers. As much as Louis is his best friend, some days Liam wonders how he’d ever go on if he didn’t have Jade’s casual touches and easy friendship. He turns his face towards her, pillowing his cheek on his forearm, and gives her his most pitiful pout. “There’s a boy,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.

“Oooh, which boy?”

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“I don’t know his name,” Liam mumbles, feeling himself blush.

He sits up straight when Louis strolls into the room, turning a chair around and straddling it, eyes way too sharp for someone who's had as much to drink as Liam knows Louis did.

“Describe him,” Louis says, his tone so commanding that Liam doesn't even protest.

“Um, well, he was blond… a bit on the skinny side… um, he was playing the guita-”

“Oh, Niall!” Louis exclaims, and Liam does a double take, sure that his ears have deceived him. “You’ve got your eyes on Niall Horan? Ha, figures.”

Niall, Liam thinks to himself, putting the name next to the pictures in his head. It's really close to the name he'd made up, and yet infinitely better. Niall.

“Niall’s a sweetheart, you should have talked to him,” Jade says, reaching up to brush her fingers against the nape of Liam’s neck.

Liam may as well go for broke. “Is he… um…”

“Is he what, young Liam?” Louis asks, tipping his chair forward with a gleeful smile. “Is he batting for the other team? Driving on the other lane? A perennial bache-”

“He’s gay,” Jade mercifully cuts in. “Or maybe bi, I’m not sure. But he used to date Zayn, before Pez snagged him.”

Liam’s heart does a complicated somersault in his ribcage, going from elated to crushed. Zayn looks like a freaking pagan god, like the people who used to get immortalized as marble statues. If Zayn is what Niall goes for, then Liam doesn’t stand a chance.

“Don’t be an idiot.”

Liam looks up to find Louis frowning at him, as if he knows exactly what’s going on through Liam’s mind. Louis knows him too well, is the problem. He doesn’t add anything, leaving the room with a purposeful stride, but comes back two minutes later holding the shorts he was wearing earlier in the night, going through the pockets. He discards the shorts once he's got his cellphone, thumb furiously tapping the screen. Liam’s own phone pings a second later.

“Here's his phone number,” Louis says while Liam fishes his phone out of his back pocket. “You should send him a text.”

“He doesn't even know who I am,” Liam says, wondering when his life turned into a teen movie. Jade rubs his arm compassionately, taking a gulp from a discarded water bottle. “We only talked when he asked me for a burger. I only had sausages left.”

“Then write to him and offer him your sausage,” Louis says, looking smug as hell when Jade snorts out water through her nose, clutching her hand to her face and wheezing.

Liam pats her absent-mindedly on the back; his cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “Lou there’s no way I’m sending anyone that kind of message,” he says, but it's too late, Louis is once again typing on his phone. “Lou…”

“Hey... Nialler...” Louis says as he types his message, “the fit bloke... who was taking care of the... bbq... at my place... would like you to try his... sausage. Game for a... date?”

Liam watches him tap his screen one last time and put his phone back in his pocket, horrified. “Lou you didn't,” he croaks out, but he knows Louis did. Louis's a prankster, but he never lies about the shit he does. That's what makes him so terrifying.

Liam buries his head in his arms, groaning. Jade’s hand moves down, palm gently rubbing his lower back through his t-shirt, but Liam still wants to dig a hole and hide in it forever.

When his phone pings again he doesn't check it straight away, not until he feels Louis lean over him, hand reaching out for the phone, and snatches it before Louis can grab it, clutching it in trembling hands.

The text notification is from an unknown number. Hiya, Louis sent me ur-

The preview ends there, but it's more than enough to send Liam’s heart into a mad spin. “Oh fuck…”

“He replied already? Nice!” Louis says, still gamely trying to steal the phone from Liam’s hand.

Liam’s pretty sure he’s going to throw up, eyes fixed on his lock screen, too scared to swipe it unlocked and get to the full message within.

“C’mon sweetheart, if he answered that fast it’s probably a good sign,” Jade says encouragingly, but Liam can’t bear the thought of them both seeing the disappointment on his face when the text turns out to be just Niall asking him if it’s a fucking joke. He gets up and walks to the downstairs bathroom in a daze, ignoring Louis’s indignant squawk.

He doesn’t look at his phone again until the bathroom door is securely locked and he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his heart in his throat. It takes him two tries to swipe his unlock pattern, and his thumb is shaking like a leaf when he taps on the message’s preview to see the full text.

Hiya, Louis sent me ur #. Guessing hes lookin over ur shouldr rn. If ur rly the bbq guy, i wouldnt mind that date tho.

Liam blinks down at his phone, his heart beating so erratically he thinks maybe he’s going into cardiac arrest or something. Niall’s followed his message with a few emojis, the wink and the sunglasses and… a hot dog.

Liam laughs despite himself, biting his lip around a grin as he sends back a time and place.

#niam #tumblr ficlet #in the end writing won #making that crappy banner took me way too long but oh well #gotta sleep now #i hope it's good!

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delctrl-archive · 7 years

Note

*MUSIC SYMBOL THO*

♫ – five times my muse swears it’s nota date and the one time it maybe is.— @sycophanticvisionary

1. CINEMA

“Just pick one.”

“I don’t know? I’m still thinking.”

“Look, it’s not that hard. You’re over-complicating it.”

“I’m just not sure.”

“Ryan, if you don’t choose, I’m going to choose for you.”

“All right, all right, gimme a minute, will you?!”

Easy for Joe to say; these are his selections. After process of elimination, the remaining films limit two in the same genre: Goodfellas or The Godfather III. Why is he not surprised this is something Joe likes? Ryan’s never been into gangster movies himself—someone has to force him to watch the first Godfather actually—so maybe he’s stalling on purpose, even though the line behind him is getting antsy.

“Sir, you need to make your choice soon. You’re holding up the line,” the box office clerk wheedles impatiently.

He wants to reject both options, if only because Ryan really wants to see Total Recall, but Joe isn’t a Schwarzenegger fan [how is that even possible? He’s amazing as Conan the barbarian]. Part of him wants to see Edward Scissorhands because that’s a unique concept and Nightmare Before Christmas is bizarre in a good way, even if as a kid Ryan finds it scary. But whatever, he has to decide, otherwise not only will people be pissed, Joe will probably walk out on him.

“Two for The Godfather.” It takes all his willpower not to sigh.

Glancing at Joe, the small smile on his lips tells Ryan he chooses well. That makes him smile in turn as they head to the snack bar.

“What do you want to eat?” he hears Joe ask, though he shrugs.

“You decide. I’m pretty cheap.”

Joe doesn’t argue, just orders them a combo popcorn and fishes for his wallet. It occurs to Ryan that Joe’s paying for everything and that makes his face hot with embarrassment. Does that mean—?

“Is this a date?” Ryan blurts.

It stills Joe from handing over a twenty-dollar bill, his eyes slowly sliding towards Ryan. Ryan swallows nervously, staring back with what he doesn’t realize is anticipated hope.

“No.”

Joe turns away to gather napkins as Ryan stands, deflated, watching. He doesn’t enjoy the movie as much as Joe does.

2. BOWLING ALLEY

Ryan’s probably never laughed as much as he had since getting out of prison, but witnessing someone as tall as Joe MacMillan try to toss a giant heavy ball down a laminated aisle and miss is ridiculously priceless. More than likely Joe doesn’t appreciate being the butt of the joke, but can’t say he doesn’t laugh either whenever Ryan misses a strike out—which isn’t a lot. He practically grows up on this game thanks to his dad’s company team. Ryan knows how to roll a ball before he knows keystrokes.

So, yes, it’s a little unfair he asks Joe to verse him, knowing the advantage he has, but it feels nice to be good at something again, especially against Joe MacMillan, a man who is seemly flawless at what he puts his mind to, regardless of skill level. [Ryan has seen the man’s code, and while it’s like looking at the aftermath of a wild keg party, there’s still some gold nuggets that can make a decent brewery. He may never be great at it, but he’s not unteachable.] When they decide to pause in Joe’s losing streak—he laughs again at the typical-wounded-ego pout on his face—they stop for a pizza break. Ryan carries a tray over with their huge slices and styrofoam soda cups; the one with the hot-pink crazy-straw indicates Ryan’s Dr. Pepper and the cup with lots of ice is Joe’s Coke. The fries they split. Ryan dunks his in too much ketchup, makes a mess of his shirt, and Joe just looks at him with fond exasperation when he gets more napkins.

“Do you still think you’re capable of beating me?” Ryan taunts through a grin and half a mouthful of pizza. “I mean, I gotta admit, you got spunk. Don’t think that’s good enough though.”

Joe scoffs goodnaturedly. “You’re sure of yourself. Don’t get cocky, Ryan—”

“Too late!”

“―You might be surprised. I could suddenly win this and you wouldn’t even see it coming.” Joe’s steady, self-assured voice causes doubt in any other situation but this one. Ryan’s heard it a few times when they’ve spent hours and days looking for something before finding NSFNet. That tone marks the man’s determination as well as an ace hidden up his sleeve.

Not that Ryan heeds it. There’s no way Joe can turn this around in time. There’s a little over thirty minutes of the game left and Ryan’s ahead by twenty-two. He stuffs the rest of his cheese pizza in his mouth, devours it, and slurps down more Dr. Pepper, shaking his head. “That doesn’t scare me, Joe. You’re all talk.” Ryan smirks. “C’mon, prove it.”

He’s not exactly prepared for that look Joe gives. Like he’s said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, to put that fire in his gaze; the way he stands so abruptly just screams You’ll regret that. Ryan watches a little dumbfounded as Joe steps into the little sitting area, food forgotten, then takes a minute to peruse particular bowling balls. He ends up choosing a shiny black one, as if it’s an enlarged 8-ball. It’s a surprise when Joe walks up, stands perfectly still, but suddenly executes a perfect throw with just the right amount of leverage and twist that sends the ball gliding across the lane, knocking down the white pins forming a Greek Church.

For a dumb moment, Ryan has the impression of pillars of an old god’s temple being destroyed by Joe MacMillan: a cannon ball come to wreck a false way of life.

The next half hour plays out similarly. Joe keeps nailing his shots over and over until he’s caught up to Ryan, who hasn’t said a word to joke or laugh at Joe’s expense. He realizes how easily he’s been played, that Joe is going easy on him earlier, and that miffs him the slightest bit. But in the end it’s Ryan who wins; as good as Joe apparently is at bowling, Ryan’s better.

“That was fun,” Joe announces on the drive home. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan answers, distracted, with his attention out of the window. He may still be a little bitter at how Joe played him. So he isn’t expecting the hand on his arm that gains his attention on the man driving instead.

“Hey, you okay?”

The concern in Joe’s words melt whatever ire builds. Coupled with that glance of caring worry behind horn-rimmed glasses, Ryan simply smiles and shrugs it off. “Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. We’re good.”

Joe smiles, small and delicate, and nods. “Good. Let’s play again sometime,” he encourages.

“It’s a date,” Ryan agrees mindlessly.

Joe’s smile doesn’t waver, but his eyes close off. He looks back at the road ahead, stepping on the pedal once the light turns green.

3. PARTY

Ryan’s two hours deep in Mortal Kombat, the joystick of his Nintendo 64 in danger of snapping from how vigorously he jerks it left and right, but he can’t care about that now, so close to K.O.-ing a FATALITY on Rain’s flamboyant, Japanese-purple-poncho, black death mask wearing ass. Ryan didn’t unlock Smoke as a character just to have him look pretty with his long white hair and mysticism. He’s been glued to the console ever since he buys it for himself as an early birthday present. Not even his brand new Microsoft PC has steered him from fighting fictional assassins and ninjas designed by America’s greatest video game developers.

It’s Joe’s fault anyway.

“Fault” as if Ryan’s mad—hardly. The day Joe hands this gem over in neat red wrapping paper, Ryan swears he falls in love. After replaying [and beating] Super Mario five times, he’s in need of something new; Joe delivers.

Speaking of Joe, a shrill ringing interrupts his gameplay in time for Smoke to land the finishing blow. “Yes!” Ryan praises, leaping up with arms shooting high the same moment Smoke does a victory taunt. Adrenaline plants a wide grin on his lips and he pats the wall for his phone blindly, but eventually grasps it. “Hello?” he breathes, not quite over his excitement.

“Ryan? It’s Joe.”

“Joe? Hey, man, perfect timing! I just killed it on Mortal Kombat!”

“Mortal Kombat?” Joe is genuinely confused. Figures.

“Yeah, Mortal Kombat, it’s that game you bought me a few weeks ago. For my birthday,” he tacks on just in case he really has forgotten.

“Right, I remember. I’m glad to know you’re liking it so much. Listen, can you do me a favor? I wouldn’t ask if I had somebody else, but—”

“What is it, Joe? It’s not like you to stall.”

There’s a pause, and Ryan imagines Joe’s debating telling him never mind and hanging up, but he’s happy he doesn’t. “There’s this thing I have to go to for Gordon. Business party. A lot of investors will be there—I need someone to come with me.”

“Like a date?”

“No, nothing like that. It looks bad if I go alone.” Joe is too quick to dismiss the idea, but what else is new. It no longer hurts Ryan’s feelings.

But he does chuckle to hide his scoff. “You don’t think showing up with a guy will look bad?” Ryan points out incredulously. He realizes how bad that sounds though. “Not that I have a problem with it, just—”

“Will you go with me or not?” Joe demands sharply, his voice like a cold knife.

“Sure, yeah, yeah, I’ll go. Sure. Look, I’m sorry if I—”

“Great. I’ll pick you up a six o’clock. Wear something nice.”

The line goes dead. Ryan feels like shit for putting his foot in his mouth and he knows he’s going to make it up to Joe somehow. Over the years the guy’s gotten a little more sensitive about his sexuality, the AIDS epidemic startling him into awareness and caution. Of course Joe’s never taken lightly to cracks about the gay community. Sometimes he can be downright vicious defending it.

Before Ryan has long to mope about his carelessness, he checks the clock. It’s four minutes from 5:00 PM and Joe doesn’t live far. Whatever remorse Ryan feels gets replaced by panicked annoyance at classic Joe MacMillan expecting him to break his neck getting ready in a small window of time. Ryan flicks off his television, then hops over his couch to rush down the hall towards his bedroom, shirking clothes as he goes.

He’s proud of himself when he opens the door to Joe exactly at 6:00, dressed in a starch white button-up, open maroon blazer, and black slacks. The contrast of deep red truly makes his skin glow copper. The way Joe looks him up and down slowly only adds to Ryan’s conceit. It doesn’t even diminish when Joe reaches forward to fix his black bowtie before half-smiling at Ryan. They’ll make quite the pair: Joe also looks dapper in his silver-white three-piece suit, his skin freshly scrubbed clean to give a polished peach gleam. Ryan forgets all about how much he hates parties and whether Joe admits it or not, he tries not to focus on the fact it feels very much like a date.

Ryan pretends Joe doesn’t.

4. COASTLINE

Joe invites Ryan out to the water with him. He tries to teach him to surf. It’s the first and last time he tries as they learn Ryan is stupendously awful at keeping his balance on a surfboard while the waves are rocking. He probably swallows more sea water than is healthy, but at least he coughs up some of it.

On shore Joe hands Ryan a towel that he gratefully accepts, rubbing his messy soaked hair after he’s squeezed out excessive water onto the sand dampening beneath his bum. These wetsuits make Ryan uncomfortable, a little more conservative about the skin-tight fabric than he’d like to be. He wishes he can be like Joe, who struts around in his wetsuit like he’s born to model them, or even something as simple as rolling the top half of it down, scars on display, just to lay on a towel while the sun warms them both. Joe looks mighty comfortable lounging on his back, hands atop his stomach, while Ryan imitates a drowned cat vigorously trying to groom himself. Instead of his tongue he’s got a terry cloth that’s mostly drenched—not much good for drying anymore.

“I think I’ll leave it to you from now on to be the surfing expert,” Ryan grouses, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging himself. It’s a silly attempt to heat up faster, but he’ll take what he can get.

Laughing, Joe peeks a bright eye at Ryan. “Come on, you weren’t that bad.”

Ryan snorts, tossing Joe a look as if he’s crazy. “I got booed by a water skier passing by us. I sucked, let’s face it.”

“They were kind of assholes,” Joe argues mildly.

“Those assholes weren’t wrong though,” Ryan insists.

Humming, Joe’s quiet for a second as he thinks it over. He comes to a decision shortly. “I suppose you’re right. You were pretty bad.”

Ryan sits up straighter, raising his chin, and affects a haughty air. “Thank you.”

It makes Joe laugh like he intends, yet they both go quiet afterwards. Joe tips onto his side, eyes closed, the corners of his mouth faintly curl up, Ryan staring at him for a second too long. He doesn’t want to say what this feels like—out loud—for fear of Joe shooting the idea down. Rather than humiliate himself more, Ryan bunkers down next to Joe, a respectable amount of space between them without seeming too intimate nor too distant. He tucks his hands behind his head, well on his way to relaxed. Ryan will just keep it to himself how he considers this outing to be a date as well.

5. ARCADE

Ryan has a hard time believing Joe’s never gone to an arcade to actually play on one of the machines. He knows that’s where he and Cameron almost hooked up and where he recruited her, so it possibly has a sour taste in his mouth, but he chooses a different hotspot—plus, it’s not like Joe’s life revolves around a timeline of B.C. and A.C.: “Before Cameron” and “After Cameron.” At least he hopes not. Sometimes when she’s brought up he gets this erstwhile look, one of whimsical nostalgia, but mostly wistful remembrance. Ryan has been trying since the day Joe offers home and heart to him to help remedy that ache, but it may be impossible.

The most he can do is subdue it, except admittedly this isn’t one of his better suggestions for a date.

No, not date: hangout.

Now Ryan feels bad. “We can go somewhere else if this if this is too weird for you.”

It’s not a shocker that he’s barely able to finish his sentence before Joe turns on his heel and heads back for the car. Ryan jogs after to keep up, but does give some space. Joe seems a little angry, which is probably better than his sadness. Ryan doesn’t know what to do with sad. Anger? That’s easy.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t.”

The ride to Joe’s place is thick with silence. Ryan doesn’t try to talk again, nor after they get inside and Joe handles him a little too roughly when he steers Ryan towards his closed bedroom. In the morning Ryan may have bruises from how tightly Joe holds Ryan’s wrists down or how hard he sinks his teeth in Ryan’s shoulder and he knows for certain he’ll be a little sore sitting because he asks Joe not to hold back [“Just fuck me, Joe. I can handle it.”] and that’s all Joe needs to let himself go and not treat Ryan like some breakable china doll.

In the morning Joe asks Ryan to leave and Ryan does without argument. A couple days later he calls to apologize, regardless if he’s not sure what he’s apologizing for, but Joe accepts it and Ryan feels lighter. Unfortunately they’re both busy after that.

1. DINNER

Obviously he can still be surprised. “You cook?”

Clearly there’s food set out on the table that definitely isn’t store-bought frozen meals or nearby takeout. There’s some flavored rice, what he thinks is cut-up baked fish mixed with vegetables, and cheesy broccoli. A bottle of sweet red wine even stands between two glasses.

“Yes, I can cook. Why do you sound so surprised?” Joe’s a bit insulted.

Ryan ignores it as he peels off his coat. “’Cause I mean, you’re Joe MacMillan! Cooking is so… mundane.” That makes him sound like a douche, doesn’t it? “It’s just—you didn’t strike me as the type to like that sort of thing.”

Joe eyes Ryan critically, his hard stare skeptical, like he may have made a mistake. “You’re right. I don’t really enjoy it. But I thought…” He looks across the set table and examines the placement and food choice subconsciously, his hands on the back of a chair. His fingers tighten nervously. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh, I do! I really do, you just caught me off guard, is all.” He’s quick to reassure that Joe doesn’t waste his time with this gesture. “This looks great, thanks, man.” Grinning, Ryan moves to take a seat, but is moderately amused when Joe pulls out his chair. Ryan doesn’t comment, simply lowers himself gingerly into the seat, eyes on Joe, full of unasked questions.

He follows suit while he reaches for his napkin and places it on his person properly, treating his dining room as a five-star restaurant. When he looks up at his guest, Ryan scrambles to do the same after a delayed second.

Joe smiles. “I thought we could try a proper date.”

“A date?” Ryan must have misheard.

“A date,” Joe confirms.

Nope, he hears correctly. He’s not sure what to think. “So this is a date then?” he repeats dumbly. It’s hard to believe after Joe denies all the other not-dates they’ve had.

“If you want it to be,” Joe murmurs, peering at Ryan, fixated. He holds his breath.

Understanding how serious this is, Ryan slowly smiles and he notices the tense line of Joe’s shoulders relax as he breathes. “I want it to be. I do, I really do.”

#sycophanticvisionary #.meme { style: drabble; }#{ i will go down with this ship }#{ macray make me macray }#{ also i did the opposite muse saying it wasn't a date 'cause it seems more a joe thing than a ryan thing tbh }#{ hopefully i wrote joe in character. x_x he's a tough one }

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theworstbob · 7 years

Text

yellin’ at songs, 3.4.2017

giving due consideration to all the songs which debuted on the billboard chart this week, with a stunning twist ending that will leave you rocked like a hurricane

oops) "That's What I Like," by Bruno Mars

Did this debut 12.10.2016? Yes. Yes, it did. Am I making an exception because it was released as a single on 30 January? Hellz yeah. I think we always knew cheeseball Bruno Mars circa 2012 was going to resurface at some point, and it is here in full force. "Take a look in that mirror/Tell me who's the fairest/Is it you?/Is it me?/Say it's us/And I'll agree." Absolutely no thank you. But this is cheeseball Bruno Mars in the post-"Uptown Funk" era, so yeah it's corny but it's still such a tasty jam, it's fun and it's upbeat and yeah that line is bad but, honestly, saying that line is cheesy completely discredits the hyper-confident "yeah, I know you love it" way Bruno delivers it. He knows it's corny, but he also knows it's gonna make you smile, and goddamnit, he's right. There's two tracks with Future features this week, and I just listened to Future. Gimme some got damn cheese, y’all. I don’t need more bleakness in my life.

4) "Chained to the Rhythm," by Katy Perry ft./Skip Marley

Like, this. This is pop music right now, so I'll take my cheesy-ass Bruno Mars any fucking day of the week, thank you. You know you're in for a bleak and shitty time when the title of the song evokes imagery of imprisonment and enslavement. This is a song about how we're all idiots for enjoying music with our free time. It feels like going to Thanksgiving and getting cornered by your 13-year-old cousin who just watched a Tim Burton movie for the first time and thus has figured out all of life’s secrets. There's a guest verse about how They awoke lions and are about to face the consequences, which is a bizarre aside in a song about how we're all actually asleep. The song does not build to that verse, and the verse does not build off of the song. All in all, though, it's just another entry in the decade-long list of awful Katy Perry songs. "Ur So Gay" turns 10 in November. In the history books, Barack Obama's entire presidency lives within Katy Perry's career as a pop star. Why’d y’all let this happen? I downloaded my MySpace blogs, I can tell ya, I was against this from the jump. This one’s on y’all. Y'all are silly.

42) "Cold," by Maroon 5 ft./Future

Like all Maroon 5 songs, this is acceptable.

54) "Bom Bidi Bom," by Nick Jonas ft./Nicki Minaj

I'm trying to figure out why this song left me so cold. I don't want to pin it all on Nick Jonas. I think I might be judging it based on its presence on the 50 Shades of Gray soundtrack, but I have heretofore associated the 50 Shades of Gray soundtracks with a certain melodramatic trait, and this association has me feeling like "Bom Bidi Bom" is an attempt at light-hearted fare written by people who have never actually smiled. This should be fun, right? This should be tons of fun! But none of the ingredients are fun. I’m not hear to kinkshame but I wouldn’t call 50 Shades a good time, I don't think Nick Jonas is who I'm gonna seek out when I need to party (why would you call Nick when Joe made "Cake by the Ocean," this might just be one Jonas away from truly burning up), and it sure sounds like Nicki Minaj was happy to take that 50 Shades money and run. I wanted to like it! I was pumped, I thought I was gonna have a better time! This song just bom bidi bummed me out. I am so proud of what I accomplished with this paragraph, y'all ain't even realize, man.

62) "Shining," by DJ Khaled ft./Beyonce & Jay-Z

Get that paper, Bey. Get that paper, Jay. You got twins on the way. They're not gonna be cheap, and hey, I know she's killing that preschool game right now, but I don't think Blue's quite ready to live on her own yet! Hook up with the meme man and get that got damn paper! This is a reminder that, even at the peak of her powers, Beyonce can still make the occasional misstep. None of us are immortal. She will barely feel this, just as you will barely feel whatever failure you're presently going through. Take heart! (And if you've yet to find success, remember: before she was Beyonce, she had to be in an Austin Powers movie. No matter where we are, we'll all be okay.)

71) "Helium," by Sia

I respect it. It's definitely not my jam, but I respect it. I only have so much time for piano 'n strings. It's a type of song that has a high floor but a low ceiling. At some point, you start editing the Grey's Anatomy closing-moments montage this'll play over in your head. This is a Sia song, and I'm just seeing Izzy leaving McSteamy in the rain. But: this is that 50 Shades sound I was talking about! So there’s... that?

77) "Heroe Favorito," by Romeo Santos

Bob! the first three seconds of this song: Oh, yo! This might be a nice '70s soul throwback! I'm down with this! Bob! after the dude started singing: Oh. Oh, okay. So this is what you have decided to sound like. Maybe I'm just not feeling it this week. I really dug the guitar solo! There's a lot of things to like about this song! But you have to listen to this dude to get there. I think it may have just hit me in the wrong week, I'm usually down for falsetto, I should be down for this, but I'm thinking about listening to this again in three weeks to give it a fair shake, and I get the funny feeling he's still gonna have this voice.

84) "Everything 1K," by Kodak Black

So here's the thing: fuck this dude. Innocent until proven guilty and all that, but this dude seems like a real piece of shit. There are rappers who are a) not on trial for rape, and b) actually good at rapping. How about the rest of this week we listen to those guys instead!

85) "Everyday," by Ariana Grande ft./Future

This song wasn't really doing it for me until it got to the "la la la" bit, and that's what did it for me. This song is going to sit in the top 20 for a couple weeks at least and it's solely because I feel that the "la la la"s sound the way love is supposed to feel. Future shouting "everyday" over and over again? Enh. Ari trying to sell a line in which she swears? Enh. Ari singing "la la la?" THIS IS WHY I HAVEN'T STOPPED BELIEVING. (In what?) ANYTHING.

87) "Rolex," by Ayo & Teo

This is a four-minute song about a brand of luxury watches. I am sure this is for someone, and I am so happy that something in this world is for them. Other people are happy as a result of this song existing, and my heart soars like an eagle at the thought.

88) "Cash Me Outside (#CashMeOutside)," by DJ Suede The Remix God

i questioned whether there was anything of value to be gained from listening to this song, but now that i've listened to this song, well, y'know what? there was not

93) "It Ain't Me," by Kygo x Selena Gomez

"Who's gonna walk you through the dark side of the morning?" is a lyric I'd scrawl across a thousand notebooks were I ten years younger. This was a "hot track," I daresay! It's like the response track to "We Are Young" I never knew I needed. This is the most I've ever enjoyed Selena Gomez, and Kygo seems chill! This could've been way more overdone than it was! Time will tell if I'm being overly generous to the song that followed the "Cash Me Outside" remix, but I think this was pretty legit!

94) "Yeah Boy," by Kelsea Ballerini

I'm glad I get the chance to talk about Kelsea Ballerini! Kelsea Ballerini's album, The First Time, is a legitimately Great pop/country album. It's a great piece of bubblegum you can chew on for 40 minutes. Now, you likely listened to this song and noticed the presence of the line "Blue jeans and a ball cap" in the first verse, and I am aware I would excoriate a bro country schmuck for being lazy and cliched with a line like that, but here's the thing about Kelsea Ballerini and her album: it's hella basic. When I extol the virtues of The First Time, I am not singling out its grand artistic vision, because this is, on its face, standard pop/country fare. It feels so good with Kelsea Ballerini, though! There's a reason for that: when you check out the Top 50 Hot Country Songs, eleven of the 50 feature female voices. It is, legitimately, the fact that bro country cliches are being funneled through a female artist that make Kelsea Ballerini feel fresh and fun and exciting, just the simple fact of the female perspective is rare enough in country music that it qualifies as an interesting spin on old tropes. None of this is intended to discredit Kelsea Ballerini, or suggest she’s getting by due to some sort of reverse sexism that has never actually existed outside of anyone’s imagination. She is clearly a great talent -- peep how she’s getting it done on an indie label! (One with noted billionaire Terry Pegula’s backing, but, hey, indie is indie!) And I kind of slagged on the artistic vision, and that was unfair, because without some sort of unique perspective, this song still would’ve fallen flat (see: Cassadee Pope’s “Summer”), and all Kelsea Ballerini has done to date is put out quality songs. She clearly knows what she’s doing. And not for nothing: CHOREOGRAPHY! THERE'S CHOREOGRAPHY IN A COUNTRY MUSIC VIDEO! Kelsea Ballerini is a true American hero, and I'm so stoked she's had a successful couple years.

96) "Hurricane," by Luke Combs

See, this guy seems cool, at least as cool as a dude who prolly voted for Trump can seem. (I'm solely judging his beard. His social media is apolitical as far as I cared to research, and while it's encouraging he doesn't think Julian Edelman is a better receiver than Julio Jones and that he's aware of the fact of CeeLo Green's existence, that trashboy beard is just straight GamerGate. C’mon, guy.) This song is basic. "I was in a bar, you walked in, I took you home." Oh wow such a deep intricate story. I can’t think of a single other song where anyone did anything like a hurricane, you sure rocked that metaphor. But because this dude isn't conventionally attractive, this song automatically becomes more interesting, because it feels like more than “hey we found this hot guy to sing about Chevrolet summer nights,” and that makes one actually want to do basic research and see this song has been out for nearly a year and a half and the dude's just been out there grinding this whole time. It’s weird that he grinded this song, of all things, but it’s clear he worked to get here. He might have even written the entire song on his own! That’s only backhanded if you don’t know Nashville. I’m not that big on this song? But I respect him. I can't say I'm going to seek out his other works, but if I’m out of things to do some Saturday afternoon and am presented with those other works, I might give it a shot. Luke Combs: not the worst! Who'da thunk?

Now that I’ve gone on about country music for 10,000 words, which is what anyone came to hear, The top 20 20) "Beibs in the Trap," by Travis Scott (1.21) 19) "My Old Man," by Zac Brown Band (2.25) 18) "Castle on the Hill," by Ed Sheeran (1.28) 17) "Call Casting," by Migos (2.18) 16) "Running Back," by Wale ft./Lil Wayne (2.11) 15) "I'm Better," by Missy Elliott ft./Lamb (2.18) 14) "Way Down We Go," by Kaleo (1.14) 13) "Everyday," Ariana Grande ft./Future (3.4) 12) "Light," by Big Sean ft./Jeremih (2.25) 11) "Guys My Age," by Hey Violet (2.11) 10) "Good Drank," by 2 Chainz ft./Gucci Mane & Quavo (2.11) 9) "Yeah Boy," Kelsea Ballerini (3.4) 8) "It Ain't Me," Kygo x Selena Gomez (3.4) 7) "Now & Later," by Sage the Gemini (2.25) 6) "Shape of You," by Ed Sheeran (1.28) 5) "That's What I Like," by Bruno Mars (3.4) 4) "Despacito," by Luis Fonsi ft./Daddy Yankee (2.4) 3) "Issues," by Julia Michaels (2.11) 2) "iSpy," by KYLE ft./Lil Yachty (1.14) 1) "Run Up," by Major Lazer ft./PARTYNEXTDOOR & Nicki Minaj (2.18) “iSpy” cracked the top 20 this week and that makes me so incredibly hopeful for the future. Also apparently Chainsmokers and Coldplay dropped a collaboration today, so I hope everyone enjoyed Yellin’ at Songs because this is the last installment you can’t make me YOU CAN’T M

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