#and then one of the backup singers messaged me and told me how good my pics looked and that the other backup singer (a new guy—I think just | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-seas-song · 3 years

Text

Red’s Gaylor Timeline

Hello! In celebration of Red's re-release, I thought I would make this timeline. Thanks to the US Copyright Office's website, we have the Date of Creation (DoC) for all but two of Red's songs. Taylor's two girlfriends during this time were Liz Huett and Dianna Argon. I am only including important and/or relevant relationship moments in this timeline; other fans have already done a great job of documenting all the different Tayliz (or Tiz) and Swiftgron moments. What I want to do here is give a chronological timeline of when Taylor wrote the songs, and who they are about. I am only looking at Taylor's romantic songs, so I am not including The Lucky One or Girl At Home.

Any bolded section in a quote is my emphasis.

Let's go!

Taylor and Liz met a few times before Liz joined her band in 2009. In Taylor's February 5, 2008 myspace post, she said: “At that point, I realized I actually know one of them! Elizabeth Huett is on Carrie Ann’s team on Dance War, and she’s been at a few of my shows! Whenever I’d talk to her in the meet and greet lines, she’d tell me about how bad she wanted to be a singer and ask for advice. It sounds strange, but there was always something different about her that stuck out in my mind. I’m SO proud of her and I hope she gets everything she’s dreaming of, because she’s a sweet heart!”

The first time Liz performed with Taylor was on February 13, 2009 at the San Antonio Rodeo. Taylor first mentioned Liz in her April 12th blog post: “On the band side, we’ve added another backup singer and her name is Liz. And she’s precious and amazing. You might have seen her perform with us on Leno. That was her first TV gig with us.”

April 23, 2009: The Fearless tour starts, with Liz as a backup singer.

May 7th, 2009 blog post:

The most obnoxious sound… … Is the hotel phone RINGINGGGGGG RINGGGINGGG RINGGGGINGGGGGGGGGGGGGFKWEJFKLCWEVNSTET at 5:30am, and it’s all the way across the bedside table, so you can’t reach it with your sleepy, fumbling attempts at picking it up and slamming it back down. Your roommate/back-up singer is leaving London this morning, and so her wake up call is at 5:30am. You don’t have to be up until 9:30, but Liz is in the shower and there’s no one here to make the screeching of the phone stop. And you’re half asleep, so it sounds even louder than it is. Slow motion, high-pitched, echoing, blasting, ringing. Never ending. The phone wake up people want to make COMPLETELY sure you’re awake. So it rings 400 million times, which is very thorough of them.. But it is the last thing you want to experience when you’re half asleep, groggy, cranky, and trying to keep your eyes closed so you don’t wake up completely and feel inclined to then blog about your trying, unfortunate situation. I think you can guess how it, inevitably, all worked out in the end. Good morning. I’m awake. Completely awake. And very inclined to blog about my trying situation.

There is no way that Taylor, as the star and headliner, would have been given a roommate. Tayliz was sharing a hotel room because they wanted to.

And May 29th, 2009 blog post:

For example: Liz and I are walking into the hotel lobby after returning from dinner. It’s a quiet, serene, beautiful hotel lobby and we’re walking in when..

Screaming voice from out of nowhere: HEY! THAT’S TAYLOR SWIFT!!

Me: Dad. Please stop doing that.

Liz's birthday is May 27th, which makes her a Gemini. This blog post implies that they went out on a dinner date for Liz's birthday.

While this timeline is about Red and not Speak Now, Liz was the romantic partner in Enchanted (DoC 2009), Ours (DoC 2009), and Mine (DoC 2010).

Red romance songs:

Stay, Stay, Stay: Liz. It's DoC is 2010; Billboard compared it to “Ours” (source); and the hidden message Taylor assigned it in 2012 is “Daydreaming about real love.”

The Moment I Knew: Liz. For some reason, I could not find a DoC! However, Taylor told Yahoo that it “was a song about my 21st birthday party, which was the worst experience ever.” (source)

All Too Well: Emily. We all know this is an iconic Taymily song. The song is about Emily getting engaged (Yes, I know that Emily said in an interview that she got engaged in February 2011. I take that with a grain of salt). @that-curly-haired-lesbian has an amazing lyric analysis about the song.

It's DoC is 2010. Taylor told Rolling Stone in November 2020:

“The first song that was written was All Too Well, and it was like a day when I was just like a broken human walking into rehearsal just feeling terrible about what was going on in my personal life, and I walked in and I remember we had actually just hired David Cook, who is now my band leader ever since then. But it was his, I think it was his first day meeting me, and I think I ended up sort of just playing four chords over and over again and the band started kicking in like Amos Heller on bass and people just started playing along with me. I think they could tell I was really going through it. And I just started singing and riffing and sort of ad-libbing this song that basically was All Too Well. And it started with ‘I walked through the door with you, the air was cold’, like it literally just was that song, but it had probably seven extra verses, and it included the f-word, and basically I remember my sound guy was like ‘Hey, I burned a CD of that thing you were doing, in case you want it.’ And I was like ‘sure’. I ended up taking it home and listening to it and I was like, ‘I actually really like this, but it definitely is like 10 minutes long and I need to pare it down, so I’m going to call Liz Rose. And she came over, I played it for her, and she was like 'Whoa, I love this.’ And so we kind of edited it and pared it down to what it is now, but that was a very serendipitous creation of song.”

Taylor improv'd the song on a rehearsal day that was also one of David Cook's first days. According to The Swift Agency, David's first performance with Taylor was the “Royal Caribbean’s Allure of the Seas in Cozumel, Mexico on January 21, 2011.” So Taylor had to have improv'd All Too Well before then. This fits with what Andrea told a fan:

This is the same story Taylor told, only with different details. This also fits with the Lover diaries, where Taylor notates: “February 2011: All Too Well lyrics 1st Draft” and “March 2011: All Too Well lyrics final Draft.” I'm certain that this is when she and Liz Rose worked on the song – Taylor would have written the first draft based on the recording, which was the actual start of creation.

Liz Rose seemingly confirmed this process in a 2019 interview:

While never a single, “All Too Well” has been an almost cult-like favorite among Swift fans. Rolling Stone named it her best song of all time, and from interviews with Swift and Rose, many fans believe there’s an even longer version of the 5-minute song. “There’s not a long version,” Rose says. “Well, there may be. The one I know of was in her brain. She had this long story and musically all the things she wanted to put in it. It was probably a 20-minute song when she called me. And she knew I could help her whittle it down and work on the brilliant pieces of it.”

December 29, 2010: Taylor and Liz are papped together in Nashville:

They are obviously miserable. Taylor told USA Today in October 2012:

Chronologically, the album began with All Too Well, a song she wrote almost two years ago with Liz Rose, one of her earliest and most regular co-writers. The song came after a six-month writing drought that followed a particularly toxic relationship.

“There's a kind of bad that gets so overpowering you can't even write about it,” she says of that time. “When you feel pain that is so far past dysfunctional, that leaves you with so many emotions that you can't filter them down to simple emotions to write about, that's when you know you really need to get out.”

This would have been Tayliz in June or July – December 2010. Liz Rose also mentioned this low time of Taylor's in her 2014 Rolling Stone interview:

When we did ‘All Too Well,’ I hadn’t heard from her in awhile. She hadn’t really been writing. I was in Nashville one day, slowly moving the last bits of junk out of my garage so I could move to Dallas. My house had already sold, so I had to come back and clean it out. I had a trailer and four guys helping me, and I was sick with some kind of sinus infection. It was just the worst day. I was in my driveway and my phone rings, and it’s Taylor saying, ‘Man, I’ve got this thing and I really need you to help me with it. Can you write today? What are you doing today?’ So I gave those guys the keys to my storage place, told them to put all my stuff into storage and drove over to Taylor’s.

It was the first song she wrote for that record, I think. She had a story and she wanted to say something specific. She had a lot of information. I just let her go. She already had a melody and she started singing some words, and I started writing things down, saying, ‘Ok, let’s use this, let’s use that.’ She mentioned a plaid shirt, and I wrote that down in a corner, and when we got to the end, I said, ‘Let’s put the plaid shirt in there.’ That turned into one of the best lines: ‘After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own/Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone/But you keep my old scarf from that very first week/’Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me.’ It was the most emotional, in-depth song we’ve ever written.

February 9, 2011: Speak Now world tour begins. It ends on March 18, 2012. This is an extremely difficult situation for Taylor and Liz. They have to spend all day with each other and continue their public narrative of being best friends.

State of Grace: Liz. DoC 2011. The hidden message is “I love you doesn't count after goodbye.” Taylor told Rolling Stone: “The first songs I wrote for the Red album are the Nashville songs, the ones that I did with Nathan Chapman, songs like State of Grace, Stay Stay Stay, All Too Well, those are songs that I wrote first and then I kind of made this journey out to LA and started working with other people.”

Sad Beautiful Tragic: Her parents. DoC 2011. The lyrics don't fit her situation with Liz at all, and her parents reportedly separated in 2011. Here is an excellent post on why it's about her parents.

Starlight: Ethel and Bobby Kennedy. DoC 2011. Hidden message: “For Ethel”. The lyrics are pretty obvious too. She performed it for Ethel on July 4th, 2012 (see here for the story).

Taylor wrote different lyrics on her arms each night of the Speak Now tour. You can see the list here and here.

May 27, 2011 arm lyric: “You gotta keep your head up but you can let your hair down.”

May 28, 2011 arm lyric: “I recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone.”

The break up/heartbroken lyrics are constant for a while.

June 11, 2011: From Taylor's October 2011 New Yorker interview:

It was late afternoon, and she was now in Detroit, preparing to play the first stadium of her tour: Ford Field, which seats fifty thousand people, and, five years ago, hosted the Superbowl. Like all her tour dates, it had sold out in less than five minutes.

[cut]

In Detroit, Swift seemed somewhat melancholy. Once in a while, I had the feeling that she was on the verge of bursting into tears. She said that she had recently decided that life is “about achieving contentment. . . . You’re not always going to be ridiculously happy.” She had written about ten songs so far for her next album. Asked to characterize them, she said, “They’re sad? If I’m being honest.” The most recent one, she said, “is about moving on.”

At one point, her security guard, Greg, came in, carrying a pair of portable iPod speakers. “Yes!” Swift said. “Where did they find them?” (Swift’s life sometimes resembles an extended iPhone commercial.) She plugged her phone into the speakers, and played a mournful country song: “Well, they ain’t gonna make a movie about a couple of fools like us.” “This is my time to hang out with Lori McKenna, who I want to be when I grow up,” Swift said, of the singer. “She’s a mom, and she lives in New England with her five kids. And she wrote ‘Stealing Kisses,’ by Faith Hill. She wrote that!” She fixed me with an intense look before cuing up another song, and asked, “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

Better Man: Liz. DoC 2011. Unfortunately, we have no other information on it.

August 2011: There was another significant moment in Tayliz's relationship in late August 2011. On August 22, Taylor made a blog post about her mini trip to Charleston, South Carolina. Liz later said, “I'll never forget the time I was going through something heartbreaking and you planned an entire group vacation just to cheer me up.”

They look close in the pictures, but Taylor's arm lyrics around this time make it clear they have made peace instead of getting back together:

August 9th: “And up in the air they would write your name there, but love would fall to pieces in the rain.”

August 10th: “If you wanna be somebody else, change your mind.”

August 13th: “I got a good heart, I just can’t catch a break.”

August 14th: “And the hardest part was letting go, not taking part”

August 18th: “Find the Grace in the things you can’t change, and help somebody if you can.”

August 19th: “Hey brother, we’re all learning to love again.”

August 23rd: “Don’t worry baby, everything will turn out alright.”

Then Taylor and Dianna meet on September 4, 2011. Taylor's arm lyrics reveal that Liz isn't happy about Swiftgron:

September 6th: “You’re just somewhere that I’ve been and I won’t go back again.”

September 7th: “You are the ever-living ghost of what once was.”

September 10th: “There was always something that meant more to you than me.”

Taylor's arm lyrics then turn happy until September 24th. On September 21st, US Weekly had reported that Dianna and Naya Rivera kissed backstage at the Emmy's Governor's Ball.

Her arm lyrics get happy again briefly in mid-October:

October 11th: “Through autumn’s advancing we’ll stay young, go dancing.”

October 14th: “Can you still feel the butterflies? Can you still hear the last goodnight?”

Before going back to sad songs on October 29th.

Begin Again: Liz and Dianna. DoC 2011. Hidden message: “I wear heels now.” Liz is the ex and Dianna is the new love interest. “The last eight months” refers to Tayliz's December 2010 breakup in “The Moment I Knew”. If you look at candids of Taylor in 2009 and 2010 she is almost always wearing flats.

Red: Liz. DoC 2012; but according to the Lover diaries, Taylor wrote it on the plane on September 7, 2011 and recorded it the next day.

The Last Time: Liz? DoC unknown. The hidden message is “LA on your break.” The Speak Now tour performed in LA on August 23rd – 28th, right after their group trip. However, both Taylor and Liz were working. Taylor told NPR:

The idea was based on this experience I had with someone who was kind of this unreliable guy. You never know when he's going to leave, you never know when he's going to come back, but he always does come back. My visual for this song is, there's a guy on his knees sitting on the ground outside of a door. And on the other side of the door is his girlfriend, who he keeps on leaving — and he keeps coming back to her, but then he leaves again. He's saying, "This is the last time I'm going to do this to you." And she's saying, "This is the last time I'm asking you this: Don't do this again." And she's wondering whether to let him in, and he just wants her to give him another chance, but she doesn't know if he's going to break her heart again. It's a really fragile emotion you're dealing with when you want to love someone, but you don't know if it's smart to.

This sounds like her relationship with Liz.

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: Dianna. DoC 2012. See @all-my-possessions wonderful post for why it is about Dianna (also, the big square framed glasses are similar to what Naya's Glee character wears). (Here is another good post about it.) It was reportedly written when Taylor first met Max Martin and Shellback in late January or February 2012.

Holy Ground: Emily. DoC 2012. Lover diaries dates it as February 2012. I know this is a controversial opinion, but the lyrics make it clear that it's about a relationship that's long past: “And the story's got dust on every page.” This automatically rules out Liz and Dianna.

The hidden message is “When you came to the show in SD.” Taylor played in San Diego on October 20, 2011. When Red was released in 2012, Taylor said:

“The song ‘Holy Ground’ was a song that I wrote about the feeling I got after YEARS had gone by and I finally appreciated a past relationship for what it was, rather than being bitter about what it didn’t end up being. And I was sitting there thinking about it after I’d just seen him and I just, I was just like, “You know what, that was good.” It was, it was good, having that in my life, and I wrote the song and I immediately heard Jeff Bhasker’s production. I hadn’t ever worked with Jeff, but he has done some amazing work. I love what he’s done on Fun’s record, and I love his diversity. He’s just so talented, and so I called him and I said “I wrote this song. I really want you to work on it with me.” And I played it for him and he was like, “Let’s go! This is great!” And, and he did such an amazing job on it.” (source)

Treacherous: Dianna. DoC 2012. Hidden message: “Won't stop till it's over.” Dan Wilson said that they wrote it in the spring and recorded it a few weeks later. Then, one of Taylor's band members tweeted about recording it in May 2012.

Come Back... Be Here: Dianna. DoC 2012. Taylor co-wrote this with Dan Wilson at the same time they wrote Treacherous. Taylor describes it as a song “which I wrote about falling for someone and then they have to go away for work. They're traveling, you're traveling, and you're thinking about them, but you're wondering how it's gonna work when there's so much distance between you.” (source)

Everything Has Changed: originally Liz and then Dianna. DoC 2012. On May 15, 2012, Taylor tweeted about being in the studio with Ed. They were papped together outside a recording studio on May 28th. However, her handwritten lyrics reference a Gemini twice. Liz is a Gemini, and Dianna is a Taurus. This makes me think Taylor wrote the first 'version', about Liz, years earlier. Also, according to Ed, they were both in a relationship when they met.

22: Dianna. DoC 2012. Lover diary dates it as the week before June 10, 2012: “I wrote 22 about how much fun I've been having this summer and this year in general.” See here for the original lyrics, which are much more romantic. Also, in the music video, Taylor wears big square framed glasses (like Naya's Glee character) for a second time, during the “make fun of our exes” lyric. The cat ears reference Dianna's birthday party.

I Knew You Were Trouble: Liz and Dianna. DoC 2012. Hidden message: “When you saw me dancing.” Lover diary dates it as the week before June 10, 2012: “The next day I brought them a chorus called 'Trouble' that's about how I should've known what I was getting into.”

Taylor told Country Weekly:

“Trouble” is a song about a guy who’s bad news. “I came up with that melody months before I went into the studio with [songwriter and producer] Max [Martin],” she says. “I walked into the studio and I was like, I want to write this song about how I felt this different kind of heartbreak recently where I’m not like, ‘Shame on you, you broke my heart’; I’m thinking, ‘Shame on me, you broke my heart. I knew the red flags. I saw them. I saw the warning signs. I walked right past them, right into your arms and then I got absolutely tricked.’ The feeling of being tricked is almost worse than being heartbroken because you knew better. You’re not blindsided. You saw this coming, but you let wishful thinking get in the way, and that’s what I’ve been guilty of a few times.”

Taylor reportedly said during Red promo that it was “almost six months before” they were scheduled to work together, but I can't find a primary source for the quote.

I think this song is about both Liz and Dianna for several reasons. In short, the chorus is about Liz and the verses about Dianna, because Liz was the 'bad girl' and Dianna had fidelity issues.

Taylor changed the lyrics to “SHE never loved me” at her only 2016 performance; about a week after Dianna got married on October 15, 2016.

Looking at the music video, Taylor is wearing the same shirt she wore in her May 8, 2009 vlog with Liz:

Taylor's hair is dyed pink; Dianna's Glee character Quinn debuted pink hair in September 2011.

Also, Taylor reportedly said that Treacherous and I Knew You Were Trouble were about the same person (source).

I Almost Do: Liz. DoC 2012. The hidden message is “Wrote this instead of calling.” It's definitely country influenced and was co-produced by Nathan Chapman; but it was not one of the songs they worked on in 2010 and 2011. Taylor and Liz stopped publicly interacting after the Speak Now tour finished and Taylor was in a relationship with Dianna. Also, Liz's behavior reportedly got out of control during the last bit of the tour in early 2012.

This Love: Dianna. DoC 2012. The Lover diaries date it October 17, 2012. Taylor had started filming the Begin Again music video in Paris on September 30, 2012 and both she and Dianna were in Paris the first week of October because it was Fashion Week. I can’t find any articles for it now, but she and Dianna had lunch together on October 3rd.

Babe: Dianna. DoC 2013. See here for an excellent post on why it's about Dianna.

This is the end of our timeline... for now! I can't wait until we get the DoC's for the new Red songs. Thanks for reading. :)

#Red #Speak Now #1989 #Mine

158 notes · View notes

nalgenewhore · 3 years

Text

ends of the earth

elide x lorcan, modern au/band au (catfish and the bottlemen), light angst with a happy ending, word count: 5197

He’d been called to place five minutes ago, but Lorcan was still in the dressing room, his phone tight in his grasp.

Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.

“Hey, it’s Elide, leave a message!”

Gods-damn it.

He clenched his jaw as the automated voice told him to speak after the beep, his knee bouncing up and down. Stealing one last glance at the door, like someone would burst through it and drag him away before he could say what he needed to, Lorcan waited anxiously.

Beep.

“Hey, Lee, it’s me. I, um, I don’t have that long ‘cause I was supposed to be in my place… five minutes ago, but I just wanted to say that…” Lorcan trailed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to order his thoughts. “I’m sorry that I’ve been gone so long.” His knee bounced again, uncontrollably. “I really miss you. Just call me back, please. I love you, sweetheart. Forever.”

With that, Lorcan hung up and shoved his phone into his bag before standing and grabbing his electric guitar from its velvet-lined case. He didn’t let any of the attendants touch it, or anyone else – besides Elide – for that matter.

He carried it out of the room with him, ducking his head as he moved through the backstage area to the left wing of the stage, where the rest of his band was waiting. Fenrys saw him first and clapped his hands together slowly, drawling, “Well, boys, aren’t we blessed? Our—”

“Can you not? For one fucking day?” Lorcan snapped, not having any of the energy he usually had to deal with his drummer’s mouth. Fenrys’ eyes widened and he all but froze, shocked by Lorcan’s response. The others quieted as well, all looking at Lorcan. He scowled and slipped the strap of his instrument over his head, tersely adjusting it so that it hung low over his hips.

When his bandmates were all still silent, he looked up, shame flooding through. “Fen, I’m- I’m sorry. It was just… stuff with ‘lide.”

“‘s’ok,” Fenrys said, shrugging. He grinned wildly, “I was being a shit.”

Lorcan nodded once in thanks or acknowledgement of Fenrys’ unsaid forgiveness, he wasn’t sure which it was. He sat down on some ledge, mindlessly tuning his guitar as they waited for the opening band to wrap their set up so that they could play.

Someone sat down next to him. Without looking, Lorcan knew that it was Rowan. The bassist was the most level-headed of them all and the only one with enough emotional maturity to talk to Lorcan about the growing issues between him and his girl. Rowan bumped his shoulder into Lorcan’s. “You, ah… feel like… talking ‘bout it?”

Lorcan snorted and chuckled lowly, “You know, not even a ‘lil bit, Ro.” He lifted his head and rolled his eyes at Rowan’s pointed look. “Hellas below, man, it’s just… we aren’t breaking up.” Neither of them wanted that, that Lorcan knew. “The touring’s a lot for both of us. It’s a lot for all of us,” he added, glancing at the rest of the band, who were all lazing on their behinds.

Rowan nodded, “Yeah. It is.” His shoulders slumped, straining against his loose cotton shirt, which was only three-quarters of the way buttoned. “You know that if you need to talk, I’m here, right?”

The lead singer just barely managed to stop his second eye-roll and nodded, lips tight. “Mm-hm. I know.”

Luckily, just then, the backstage lights flashed and Lorcan was spared from further needling. Someone came by as their opening band filed off of the stage, looking high off the ecstasy that was performing in front of a live crowd, and handed Lorcan, Rowan, Vaughan, Fenrys, and Connall their earpieces.

Lorcan fit his in his left ear, as he had a new double conch piercing in the right, and tucked his necklace beneath the collar of his faded t-shirt. It was a simple piece of jewellery, the only one he never took off. The chain was gold and from it dangled a viper pendant, twin to the same piece that hung from Elide’s slim throat.

Fenrys and Connall were the first to walk on, one to the drumset and the other to the keyboard. They shouted back at the crowd, always ones to rile them up and feed off of the crowd’s energy.

Next was Vaughan, the backup guitarist, who wore a prideful smirk, his dark eyes scanning seductively over the mass of fans. Lorcan shook his head at his cousin and Rowan strolled out, plucking absentmindedly at his bass. He waved after he found his position behind one of the three microphones. Vaughan was behind the other, playing a riff on his guitar, his fingers sliding up and down the fretboard.

Lorcan waited a moment more, his eyes closed for a fleeting second. When he opened them, he stepped out, the lights immediately blinding and heavy on him. The cheers and screams from the sea of people were deafening, but he was used to it.

He put on a golden grin, one corner of his lips higher than the other. Elide always liked to kiss him when he was smiling like this, pressing her round and sweet lips against the corner, her fingertips resting on his jawline.

The smile faltered for a second. The very next, it was as though he’d glitched, pasting that same smile back on. Lorcan lifted one hand to pull the microphone closer to him, “Evening, Varese. How we all doing? Good?” They roared back and he chuckled, nodding his head, “Alright, alright, no need to scream and shout. That’s our job.” Lorcan glanced at the boys one by one, nodding when they nodded at him.

“Let’s kick it!” Fenrys shouted, tapping his drumsticks together before he launched into song.

Lorcan heard the music in his earpiece and played his guitar as he began to sing, “You’re simpatico… and of all the lift-homes and all the mixed feelings, you’re cuts above…”

He knew that the crowd was singing along, but he couldn’t discern the lyrics that ripped from their throats.

“And I’d co-o-o-me… you can leather me with your li-i-i-ips…”

Fenrys slammed down against his drums and Lorcan sang roughly into the mic, his eyes closed, “I’ve got to give it to you – you give me problems! When you are not in the mood…”

One song bled into the next and into the next until they reached the track they hadn’t put on the album. Lorcan had written it days ago, when they’d been flying to the next city. The minute they’d touched down, the whole band was asking their manager to take them to the nearest studio to record and perfect it.

Unlike their other songs, this one was Lorcan’s only. Only he had written the lyrics, only he had figured out the chords. The boys had just known how badly he needed this, so they’d agreed without question, without hesitation.

“This next song’s…” Lorcan started, his heart thumping against his ribcage, “about a very, very special girl. My favourite girl in the whole world, really.” And I hope she hears this. He looked back at the others and nodded, his lips set in a grim line.

He plucked at his guitar, leaning into the mic, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I got some lies to tell.”

Fenrys joined in gently, as did Connall. Still, it was only Lorcan who sang, “She hates her work, but loves to flirt.” When he’d first met Elide, they’d both been working at the same recording studio. People had told him she flirted with everyone, so he hadn’t known that she was even interested until one night she’d taken his face in her hands and kissed him in plain sight of all their coworkers, flipping them off as she did so. “It’s a shame she don’t work with me.

“She gets uptight, don’t like when I’m gone, but she won’t let on to me,” he continued, hating the fact that Elide was pulling away from him and hating the fact that he didn’t know how deeply his absence affected her.

Lorcan stepped back as they played up to the chorus, playing a little harder and letting a little more grunge bleed into the notes. He moved back to the mic, singing louder as the rest of the band started to play, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie… I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.”

He didn’t hear the cheers of the crowd, ignored them as they shouted his name and screamed. This wasn’t for them – it was for Elide. All Lorcan could do was play hard enough so that maybe she could hear, never mind that she was an ocean away.

Lorcan let go of his guitar, letting Vaughan take the lead when he took the mic, “I got mistook and took dissent, and it’s not as if you didn’t no-otice.” He leaned forward, “But I try to steer you clear of this place and I wound up with nothing to show for it!”

He stood up again, pushing his guitar around his back, “You never got that from me. She said you never got that from me, she said you never got that from me…

“Oh, but I said you got that look from me-e,” his throat felt raw. With the speakers behind him, Lorcan could hardly hear himself. As the song built back up to the chorus, Lorcan took his guitar back in hand and strummed aggressively, his head moving back and forth with the beat.

“I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try.” Lorcan inhaled sharply, “I said I’m only looking out for you, she said it’s obvious that’s a li-i-ie, I only ever put out for you, you know it’s obvious you don’t try!”

He walked backwards a few paces for his guitar solo, only looking at the ‘E’ carved into his instrument, right where the neck connected to the body. Tears burned his eyes and Lorcan blinked them away, tensing his jaw.

Then, he pulled the microphone towards him and let go of his instrument. As he sang the last lines, one hand pushed his long hair back, “I got misled, mistook, discard… anything that I said. See, I’m not the type to call you up drunk, but I’ve got some lies to tell…”

<3<3<3

Elide bit her thumbnail as the phone line droned on. Her hands shook and she paced back and forth in front of their living room window. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Please, please, please pick up.

She’d watched Lorcan’s show through a livestream from somebody in the crowd. It’d been shaky and grainy, the audio blown, but she’d heard the song and more importantly, what Lorcan had said before it.

The line clicked, “Sweetheart?”

“Hi,” she breathed, her voice airy. Elide cleared her throat, “H-hi. It’s me.”

Lorcan chuckled. He sounded almost… relieved. “I know, I just- I just didn’t… know if you were going to call.”

Her heart sank slightly and she opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Elide knew that there was a… there was a rift between them and she hadn’t made it easy for him to fix it. He doesn’t make it easy to love him, either. “I watched your show, baby. That new song…” she trailed off, not sure how to force the words out.

“Did… do you not like it?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“No! No, I loved it,” Elide said, sinking onto the windowsill and lifting her foot to rest her heel against the ledge. The hem of her boyfriend’s shirt bunched around the tops of her thighs and she fingered the holes dotting the edge. “It was great, Lor, really.” Elide looked down, her cheeks heating despite the fact that she was alone and he couldn’t see her. “Is it about me?”

“Lee… everything I write is about you,” he mumbled. “It’s all for you. I- I…” Lorcan exhaled. “Just give me a minute, won’t you? I can move somewhere else and we can FaceTime?”

She grinned and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that. I miss seeing your face.”

“I miss seeing you too,” Lorcan murmured. “Ok, I’ll call you back, alright?”

“Ok. And I love you too. Always.”

Lorcan clicked his tongue lightly, teasingly saying, “You’re such a sap.”

Elide rolled her eyes, “Good-bye.”

He was laughing as he hung up and Elide got to her feet, prancing over to their bedroom. It was late and she knew she most likely fall asleep while talking to him. It had been hard to sleep without him next to her.

Elide had just settled in when her phone rang again, this time with a FaceTime call from Lorcan. She pressed the green icon and grinned at her screen as the call connected, her boyfriend’s face coming into focus, even if it was a little grainy. “Hi, baby.”

Lorcan’s smile was lopsided, her favourite smile of his. “Hey, sweetheart.” He was in his hotel bed, one hand tucked behind him, his head cradled by his tattoo-covered bicep. “How’re ya doing?”

“I’m ok,” she said, propping her phone against the headboard and cushioning her chin with a fluffy pillow. “I went to the studio today and worked on a new song.”

“Really? D’you reckon it’s any good?”

Elide shrugged, “Not sure yet. It doesn’t have that… it doesn’t have that thing, you know?”

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, I know.”

For a moment, neither of them knew what to say, so they didn’t say anything.

Then, they both opened their mouths to talk at the same time. “I wanted to—” “We should– oh, you- you can go.”

Elide nodded, trying to summon courage she wasn’t sure that she had. “I’m… I wanted to talk. About you being gone.” Lorcan dipped his chin, his face grave as he encouraged her on. Tears sprung in her eyes and she whispered, “I miss you. Everything, everything comes back to that. I miss you. Whenever I’m angry at you, it’s ‘cause you’re not here and I- I just get more and more mad at that.” She wiped her cheeks and looked down at her hands, flicking her eyes to her bitten nails. “I’m biting my nails again.”

“You hate biting your nails,” Lorcan said softly, his eyes reflecting deep sorrow. “And-” he shifted, sitting up. “I know. I know that I’m gone too much. I know that- that I’m never there.” He frowned. “I want to come home, sweetheart, I want to be with you, I promise. I’m- I’m so tired of touring.” Lorcan rubbed his eyes. “Um… I talked to the boys. We’re… we don’t want to tour anymore. We’re just done.”

She gasped softly, her vision blurring. In a whisper, Elide told him: “Don’t say that if you don’t m-mean it.”

“Lee, of course I mean that. You really think I would…”

Elide shrugged, “I feel like I don’t know you, L. You’re... you aren’t Lorcan, you’re,” she did a dramatic hand gesture, “Lorcan Salvaterre, lead heartthrob of the Bloodsworn. And I still think that name is far too reminiscent of teenaged angst.”

He snorted and closed his yawns, rubbing his head against the crinkling crisp pillow. “Yeah… probably right about that one, love.” Lorcan sighed through his nose and slit his eyes open, “I know we aren’t finished with this.”

She nodded, fiddling with something. “Lor…” her lips trembled. “Your tour is done in a month.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But, we- we can make it. Can’t we? I mean, I’ve already written the sad song where I’m the shit boyfriend, right? We can- we can talk.” Lorcan pushed his silky hair back.

“Yeah. I’m just sad. I… I’m scared that I’ll feel like this again and we’ll never make up again. What happens then?”

Lorcan ran his tongue over his teeth and the muscles in his jaw feathered, “Lee, I… do you want to break up? Is that what you want?”

The words hit her like a blow and Elide physically recoiled, “No, of course that’s not what I want!” She made a helpless motion with her hands, “But what if that’s not enough? What if the fact that we love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together isn’t enough?” Her throat was tight, so she swallowed past it, “I… I’m scared.”

“So am I,” Lorcan said. “We want the same things, I just… I think that’s enough. Can’t that be enough?”

She shrugged and looked down at her lap, picking at the pillow case. “Maybe it is. I guess- well, not guess, but… maybe that’s all that matters, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips. Elide smiled back at him, her heart fluttering.

They spoke for a while more until their voices became drowsy and heavy with slumber. Elide pulled the duvet over her and snuggled her cheek against the pillow that smelled most like his cologne. Her eyes slipped shut and she struggled to open them again, only for them to fall shut again.

Lorcan laughed softly, “Sweetheart, go to sleep. You’re falling asleep.”

She sighed softly and hummed, “No, ‘m not. ‘m just… resting, baby.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing, hmm?” he teased, his smile easy and warm.

Elide nodded, “Yeah…” She pursed her lips and exhaled a puff of air, pulling the duvet up tighter. “Mmm… g’night, Salvaterre.”

“Sweet dreams, Lochan.”

Mere seconds later, Elide fell asleep. When she woke up in the middle of the night, her phone was still in her hand and she smiled at the screen, where the call was still happening and she could see her boyfriend sleeping like the dead. She took a screenshot and texted it to him.

sweetheart: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

sweetheart: ur kinda cute or whatever. i think im kinda in luv with u.

Then, she fell asleep once more, waking up in the morning to a screenshot he’d sent of her.

salvaterre: Sent One (1) Photo Attachment

salvaterre: i know im completely in love with you

<3<3<3

“Lorcan!” called their manager’s assistant, Luca, as he held Lorcan’s phone up. “Someone’s calling you!”

Their rehearsal, if it could even be called that, paused. Fenrys was working on his drum tricks, but Lorcan wasn’t sure that him attempting to play while Vaughan and Connall threw extra drumsticks at his set could be considered working.

Lorcan nodded and put his guitar down, loping across the room. When he was close enough, he saw that it was Elide and reached out, “Thanks, man.” Luca nodded, his curls bouncing. Lorcan picked up the call and ducked out of the rehearsal room, lifting his phone to his ear, “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she replied. “I just wanted to check in. Luca told me you guys were rehearsing.”

He snorted and walked down the dark hallway, “Rehearsing’s a bit generous, Lee. Ro is hungover and Vaughan and Connall are throwing drumsticks at Fen.”

A bright laugh bubbled from her lips. “Gods, I don’t know why I believed Luca. That boy is too kind.”

“He really is, I don’t know why he wants to work for us bastards.”

Elide hummed, “Yeah, I don’t know either. You guys aren’t that nice.”

Lorcan found a forgotten corner and sat down, his long legs splayed out before him. “We really aren’t.” He looked at his worn Chuck Taylors, the laces frayed. “How’re you?”

“Well… I’m good. I, um, I booked a gig.”

“You did? Lee, that’s amazing,” he said, sitting up straighter. “When’d you book it?”

She hesitated to answer, “...three weeks ago. I… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you but… yeah.”

Lorcan shook his head, “No, no, it’s fine. Are you excited? You haven’t played anywhere in a… long time, love.” When his band had started playing, Elide had played too, appearing in local bars and a few festivals. Then she’d stopped. She still wrote songs and recorded them, but nothing was released.

“Yeah, I know. I’m feeling good. I’m excited,” Elide told him. “Really, I am.”

“But…”

There was something she wasn’t saying.

Her swallow was audible and her voice was quiet when she spoke again, “It’s- it’s next week. And I want you to come, but you can’t. I know that.”

His heart stutterd to a stop. Lorcan opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “I- um, I’m- I’m sorry. That I won’t be there. I wish I could be.”

She laughed, but the sound was forced, “Lor, I don’t want your apology. You’ve already apologised and… it’s just something that is. The facts are that I have a gig, I want you to be there to see, but you’re on tour. And this- it’s your dream, isn’t it?”

You’re my dream, he thought. Lorcan flicked his eyes upwards, lying through his teeth, “Yeah. Yeah, this… this is my dream. I’m touring the world and sharing my music with everyone. I never thought I’d be here.” And you were supposed to be right here with me.

“Exactly, so, I’ll play more gigs. You’ll see them. It’s not like this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, you know,” Elide joked. “You- you don’t have to worry about this one show, Lor.”

“Yeah…” he said, frowning slightly. Lorcan inhaled, “Listen, I’ve got to go back to rehearsal, but I’ll call you after?”

“Oh, yeah, ‘course. Talk to you later, then.”

“I love you, always.”

“And I love you, forever. Bye, baby.” Elide hung up and Lorcan slowly got to his feet, putting his phone in his back pocket.

He walked back to the rehearsal room, his brow furrowed in thought. Lorcan tapped the side of his fist against his leg as he went back.

When he walked back in, Malakai, their manager, glanced at him, “Are you… alright there, son?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan lifted his head. “I just need your help with something.”

<3<3<3

salvaterre: i don’t have time to call you before, but you’re going to do amazing and i love you so so so much.

salvaterre: you’re going to kill it

Elide stared down at the message, using it to ground herself. She stole yet another glance at the area before the makeshift stage and her heart hammered a bit harder. Her hands shook, so she breathed in deeply and tried to calm herself.

Her friends were sitting around the table closest to the stage, all sipping on their drinks and waiting excitedly for her to start.

The bartender, who was also the owner of the bar, walked up onto the stage and nodded once at Elide for confirmation. She nodded back at Gavriel and he turned to the microphone, “Folks, I want to thank you all for coming out tonight and please give a warm welcome to Elide Lochan!”

Aelin and Lysandra cheered, while Nesryn simply clapped along with the others, smiling gently.

Elide shook her head and put her phone in her guitar case before she walked out, sitting on the stool. Gavriel helped her adjust the microphone, “Is that alright?”

She nodded and adjusted her acoustic guitar, “Yes.”

“Alright, then. Good luck.” Gavriel walked off, leaving her to play.

“Um,” Elide said into the mic, looking over the crowd, “well, this is my first gig in quite some time and I’m… really happy to be up here, so, I hope you all enjoy it.”

Someone let out a loud ‘whoop’ and she laughed, strumming the strings idly.

She took a bracing breath and then started to play a song she’d written years ago. It was her safety song, Elide supposed, the one she always played. People always seemed to like it and when she used to play more regularly, it had been a frequent request.

As Elide played, her mind wandered, thinking about the lyrics she was singing and what they meant.

Much like her boyfriend, everything she wrote was for him.

Singing about him, it both saved and ruined her at the same time.

As the last notes rang out, Elide swallowed, her chest aching. There was a gentle applause throughout the bar and she smiled. “My last song of the night is a brand new tune and I’ve never actually played it in front of anyone else, so please be gentle. It’s called Hourglass and, yeah.” Her cheeks heated in embarrassment over her awkwardness and she ducked her head as Aelin cheered, laughing softly, “Thank you, Aelin.”

She exhaled once more, “Ok…” Elide strummed gently, one cowboy-booted foot up on the spindle of the stool she sat up. “You know, when you’re gone, I struggle at night, dreams of you fucking me all the time…

“Though I know you’re tied up and I know your phone’s fucked, I’m craving your calls like a soldier’s wife…” she sang gently, her eyes shutting, “I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf.”

Elide strummed a little louder, “Come back, move in, mess my place… chest infect me, waste my days… ‘cause I know you love to drive me up the wall, I know you love to drive me up the wa-a-all…

“I wanna bring you home myself, bring you home myse-e-elf…”

The crowd was watching in silent rapture.

“And I’m so-o-o… impatient when you’re not mine. I just want to ca-a-a-tch up all on the lost time,” her voice was sultry like it usually was and she couldn’t help the emotion from bleeding into her words like she normally could, “And I’ll say I’m sorry if I sound sordid ‘cause all I really ever want is you…”

Elide vocalised sweetly as she played to the last verse, a small smile on her lips, “Offer my hand and I’ll take your name, share my shower, kiss my frame, ‘cause I wanna carry all of your children and I wanna call them,” she plucked more gently, “stup-id shit…”

She relaxed, indicating the end of the song, and she was met with loud applause. Elide smiled widely, her hands shaking.

She heard a familiar hurray and snapped her eyes to the table her friends were sitting at. Between Aelin and Nesryn, Lorcan sat, wearing a proud grin, his dark eyes glittering. Elide gaped, clapping her hand to her mouth.

Aelin got up and rushed to her, taking her guitar as Elide stood on shaky legs. “Wha- what- baby?”

He nodded once and Elide laughed, launching herself at him the moment he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, blinking back tears, “I- I can’t believe you’re here.”

Lorcan banded his arms around her waist and hugged her tight, one of his hands moving to press against her upper back. “I’ve been gone too long,” he said quietly. “And I didn’t want to miss this.”

Elide slowly pulled away and tilted her head up, tears lining her eyes, “I’m- gods, I don’t even know what to think. I’m, I’m so happy.” She laughed warmly, her hands squeezing his shoulders. After a quick look around, Elide nodded her head to the side of the bar, where they could have some privacy.

Lorcan nodded and went with her, taking their seats at an empty table. Elide sat up as high as she could and stretched over the small, round table, one hand tugging his jaw closer to her. She pressed her lips against his, somewhat melting at the first gentle brush of his tongue over the seam of her mouth. Elide parted her plush lips and gasped when his tongue licked over hers.

They drew back, never ones to display much affection in public. Lorcan’s hand cupped her face and he stroked his thumb over her cheekbone, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I missed you too,” Elide said, practically beaming. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you tell me you’d written something new? What happened to our deal, hmm?” He hooked his pinky around hers, “We pinky promised, Lee, that means something, you know.”

One of the promises they’d made to each other was to always share their music with one another first.

Elide rolled her eyes, “Call it even, then?”

“But of course, sweetheart.”

She grinned, unable to control her smile, “I still can’t believe you’re actually here.” Lorcan’s hand was resting on the table and Elide ran her fingertips over his knuckles and the various tattoos he had. “How… do you feel about it? The song?”

“It’s beautiful,” he replied softly. “You’re extremely talented, Elide, d’you know that?” She blushed and lifted her eyes to his face. Lorcan softened as he took in her face and murmured, “C’mere,” as he pulled her off her stool and fit her between his thighs. He tipped her head back and kissed her once more. She melted into him, her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as she closed her eyes. “Lee,” Lorcan started, pulling back only enough to rest his forehead against hers.

Elide could see that he was going to say something and she quickly pressed her fingers to his full lips, shaking her head. She didn’t say a word, but he understood what she was telling him. There was nothing to say. Lorcan folded his arms around her and tucked her into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head. His thumb stroked over her hair.

She smiled and inhaled the cedar and sage scent that clung to him like always. Idly, Elide toyed with his necklace, which was twin to hers. “So… how long do I get you this time?”

“A week,” he said, almost reluctant. “But, I was kinda thinking that after you…” Lorcan trailed off, nervous that she would say no.

Elide lifted her head, her hands resting on his thighs, “After? What do you mean after?”

He inhaled and spoke, his words rushed and indiscernible, “Italkedtotheboysandweallagreeditwouldbekindafunifyoucamewithusandyoucould—“

“Baby, slower, please,” Elide laughed. Lorcan blew out a breath and nodded, anxiously shoving his hair back, then settling both of his hands on her hips.

“If I asked you to come with me for the rest of the tour, what would you say?”

She gawked at him, almost taking a step back. “Are- are you serious, Lorcan?”

A nod.

“You really mean this? I would- I would come with you and do… what?”

He shrugged, “I dunno. You could sing with us. Feature artist.”

Elide laughed again, holding one of her hands to her mouth, “Of course – I would say yes.”

Relief flooded through his face and he smiled, “Really? You’d come with me?”

“Lorcan,” Elide said, softly shaking her head. She rose on her tip-toes, her lips brushing over his, “I would go with you to the ends of the earth and beyond.”

With a rakish grin, Lorcan closed the distance between them.

Always, they promised each other. I will be with you always.

<3<3<3

songs: Kathleen, Homesick, Hourglass (Catfish and the Bottlemen)

an: ahhh they kinda cute or whatevah

@mythicaitt @eyllweambassador @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @jadeaffliction @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @myshadowsingeraz @firestarsandseneschals @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @ladywitchling @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr @rowaelinismyotp @sassyhobbits @swankii-art-teacher @januarystears@flamingveritas

#elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore #i luv luv luv them.

121 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 4 years

Text

Ms. Bodyguard - The knife

Summary: Jensen is used to be the hero on his show. He’s not a coward, not at all - but when he gets attacked by an unknown man the studio insists on a full-time bodyguard. Specialist in protecting people while living with them - you agree to protect Jensen, but he doesn’t like the fact a ‘small’ girl shall protect him. Will you be able to protect the unwilling actor?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Bodyguard!Reader

Characters: Clif Kosterman, Jared Padalecki

Warnings: angst, mentions of stalking/mental health problems (nothing graphic), blood, mentions of attempted murder, arguments, grumpy Jensen, mentions of injuries, language

Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist

A/N: Lyrics are taken from Paul Simon’s – Call me Al

* The reader likes to use songs as passwords (in this chapter Call me Al) and names of Greece Gods as special passcodes. Here’s a short explanation of what every code means:

Artemis – danger to life (client got attacked)

Ares – drop everything and run

Aphrodite – the client wants to be alone with a lover/love interest

Dionysus – the client is drunk/took drugs

Hades – client got hit/heavily injured/close to death

Hera – family of the client is in danger

Zeus – attacker sighted

Athena – backup needed/call the police

Poseidon – distraction needed to transfer the client safely

Nemesis – attacker/stalker down

Hephaestus – weapon needed/weapon got lost

“Hey-Betty.” Clif runs one hand down his face while he tries to make you answer his call. “I know you listen to me talking to your mailbox. I got a problem. - It’s Al…”

If you want an answer, do the whole song… An automatic answer replies and Clif takes a deep breath. He knows you do this kind of game to keep your clients safe but sometimes – it’s annoying to ‘play’ with you.

“Y/N come on. You know that only me got this number since you work alone. Give me a chance. I’ve got a client, or rather a good friend who’s in danger. Please.”

If you want an answer, do the whole song… Again, Clif sighs but he’s got no other choice, so he clears his throat and starts singing the song you chose as his password.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

While Clif sings the song, you hold your stomach, laughing hard as he is, by all means, an awful singer. Tears well up to your eyes and after weeks of being bitter you have a soft smile on your lips remembering the training with your friend.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

The song ends and you listen closely, waiting for Clif to use a specific passcode to inform you about his current situation. If you trust anyone, it’s your old friend and training partner but in your business – you can never be careful enough or you end up dead.

“Passcode: Artemis,” Clif said the password for a worst-case scenario and you answer his call.

“Y/N, my friend got a serious problem. It’s red already. Are you still in Saudi Arabia or can you come back to the states?”

“I packed my stuff Clif and you can speak freely; the line is safe.” Rubbing your sore eyes, you sit up to listen to your friend’s explanations. “But let me tell you one more thing before you start – you are one awful singer.”

Clif huffs before he grins on the other side of the line. “Did you finish your ‘princess’ job? I don’t want to mess with another job.”

A soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips hearing your friend is worrying about you and your job. “I heard she married…”

“Married and became a spoiled bitch. Let’s say we parted ways before I had to split her skull with my combat knife, Clif.” He chuckles lightly but this time, you can’t laugh with him. “Now back to your problem.”

“That bad, Riffle? What did she do?” Clif avoids your question and you wonder who is in trouble.

All you know is he worked for a TV show over the last years, nothing else. It’s not as if you had the time to stay in contact with friends while protecting a princess.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“Husband said I am no longer needed. She agreed. End of story.” Looking at your gun on the nightstand your eyes sadden.

“I protected her for six years, Clif. Now she married a rich guy and I am…disposable. I got hit by a bullet for her…twice. For years I believed she’s different, my friend, but in the end they are all the same.”

“I am sorry to hear, Riffle. Never thought that she’s a…” Clif gulps when you laugh bitterly. “A spoiled brat? At least I learned my lesson, buddy. No more princesses…”

“Great. My friend is a guy, actor and he got attacked by an unknown person last week. He tried to play it cool, but the studio is on high alert. A guy managed to sneak on set, waited for Jensen to be alone, and stabbed him.” Clif huffs at the other end of the line and you know he wants to take the blame.

“Clif, I love you but stop right now. It’s not your job, it’s the security guards’ job to keep the set safe. We both know how often people can sneak on set to take pictures, steal scripts, or crap. I will help you but only if you stop taking the blame.” Now you huff as Clif chuckles lightly.

“Okay, Riffle. When can I pick you up?” Glancing at your packed suitcases and duffle bags you try to remember which time it is in the US. “Y/N?”

“I will book a flight in the morning. Tell me where I have to be and send me his profile. I need to know everything about that guy, his family and working place. I need to meet him too before I agree to protect him.” You are adamant about your rules, so Clif agrees without arguing.

“I’ll send you the information to the FTP server. Give me three or four hours. The destination is Vancouver. I’ll pick you up and we can talk on our way. Do you know anything about Supernatural?”

“Did a ghost kick his ass or Bigfoot?” Smirking you hear Clif explaining he meant a TV show called ‘Supernatural’ and not the supernatural in general.

Good thing your friend can’t see you as you roll your eyes at his explanation about the ‘cool’ show he’s working for.

“Clif, I did not watch TV for like six or seven years. Oh-fifteen years? That’s a freaking long time for a series, dude. Now let me have some sleep. I suggest you tell your friend to stay at the hospital. There are cameras, a security team and the cops will guard his room. Do not let him go home…”

“Got it, Y/N. Goodnight and thank you.” When Clif hangs up you sigh deeply. Tomorrow you will leave the land you called home for the last six years. Even worse – you will leave a friend, as she no longer needs you…

Reaching US ground for the first time in six years feels odd, strange even. Saudi Arabia was your home for so many years and being away from Soraya, the first client you would call family feels wrong, but you had to leave.

She lied to you. She betrayed you. She wanted you gone…

Her father called you to his office right before you were ready to head out to the airport, asking you why you quit as his daughter’s bodyguard out of the blue.

You could’ve told him the truth, that his daughter is an ungrateful brat, but Abdallah was always good to you and doesn’t deserve to get into a fight with his daughter and son-in-law.

At first, he didn’t like the idea of having a woman around to protect his only child but with you, not being a man, he could be sure you can stay by her side in any situation.

It pained you to lie to him, but this was the last time you could protect your client. One last time you took the bullet when you told him you want a change of scenery.

He looked at you with disgust and kicked you out of his office. Well, that’s what you get when you try to save his daughter.

“Y/N!” Clif waves at you, a big smile on his face as you walk toward the exit. “Wait. I’ll take your bags.”

“Clif, don’t get me wrong. I know you are a gentleman and all, but I can carry my shit, okay. Now let’s get this straight. Your client is Jensen Ackles, he got attacked by a guy who blames him for fucking a z-list starlet and the cops didn’t get him so far.” Ignoring your speech Clif grabs your suitcases to place them into his car.

“Correct. Jensen had like two or three dates with that girl. They uh—Aphrodite* me a few times and after the third date they got into a fight.” Clif explains while you take notes.

“She accused him of cheating on her, he yelled back they only fucked, and I drove her home while Jay stayed at the bar.”

“Okay. What happened next?” Opening the door to the passenger seat for you Clif tries to explain the girl started to stalk Jensen.

She called him daily, send disgusting messages, and nudes to his twitter account and stood in front of his house more than once.

“Did he call the cops?” Hopping into Clif’s car you watch him shakes his head. “Let me guess. Mr. Ackles didn’t want to look like the victim. So, he’s a macho?”

“Listen, he tried not to get her into trouble. Jensen believed she would cool off and stop with that shit she pulled. He changed his number, reported her doings to twitter, and told me, the security on set and his colleagues about it.”

“I assume she didn’t stop?” Your friend shakes his head while he pulls out of the parking lot. “It got worse?”

“Awful even. She came to set, naked only wearing a thong. She cut Jensen’s name into her stomach and we had to call the cops, an ambulance, and fight off the press.”

Nodding you check the files Clif sent to you. “She’s at an asylum for four months and gets better. After she got medicated the girl realized not Jensen was her problem.”

“Maybe she lied? Maybe she’s behind the attack?”

“We checked her contacts thrice, Y/N. I am not as good as you or your former team, but we normal bodyguards are not useless either.” Patting your friend's shoulder you give him a soft smile. “No one visited her or contacted her before the attack.”

“I know, Clifie. Relax. I would never thing low about you, okay. I just need all information to see the picture.” Clif keeps his eyes on the street while you scroll through the files. “No parents. No siblings. So, no angry family. No ex-boyfriends or husbands. Check.”

“She was a loner. The girl tried to help us, but no one came to her mind.” Clif explains as you shut off your iPad.

“No secret admirer sending her flowers or cards? No one claiming he was the one attacking your client?” Your friend shakes his head and you frown.

“That’s odd, Clif. I mean, if that guy did it to avenge that girl, he would’ve shouted it from the rooftops to get her attention.”

“I know, Y/N. That’s the reason I called you for help. This is…fishy. My instinct tells me something is off with that attack and the way Jensen met that girl. I don’t want to sound like a lunatic but…”

“Dude, only as you are paranoid doesn’t mean they are not after you.” Chortling you give Clif a wink. I will dig deeper and see what I’ll find. Let me call a friend of a friend.”

“C.I.A., F.B.I., or someone else?” Giving you side-glances your friend gulps when you whisper, ‘someone else’. “What will you have to do to ‘dig deeper’?”

“Nothing. That asshole owes me his life and balls.” You smile at Clif, but he can see it’s a fake smile. Whatever past you have with this man, you’ll never tell anyone.

“I don’t need another bodyguard, Clif. For fuck's sake! She looks like a tramp or schoolgirl!” Jensen yells when you enter the room with your friend.

No matter which insults he throws at you, your face remains stoic, your eyes are trained on his face and your posture never changes.

“I don’t need a little girl protecting me! I bet if she sees Jared that girl will go for a run.” Jensen gets out of the hospital bed, hissing as his wound still hurts and he refused to take pain meds.

“Jay-uh—hey!” A tall man enters the room, a knife in his hands, and before Clif, Jensen or the guy can blink you lunge out to twist his arms behind his back to pin the tall man against the wall, face first.

He struggles in your hold but there is no escape when you kick his legs apart.

“Y/N don’t kill him! That’s Jared, Jensen’s friend, and colleague!” Clif gasps and the man you still hold pinned to the wall nods eagerly.

“He had a knife!” Voice controlled; dominant you do not let go of Jared. “Why did he come into Mr. Ackles's hospital room, a knife in his hands?”

“Sorry, but that’s a knife made of chocolate. I thought it’s funny, but I guess, the joke is on me.” Jared huffs and you look at the knife which lies abandoned on the floor.

“Okay, Jared. I will let you go but you will wait until I checked on the knife or you’ll feel my knife pierce your lung.” Warning the tall man, you reluctantly let go of him.

Clif already picked the ‘knife’ up only to break it into two halves. “Chocolate, Y/N.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Jensen gapes at you holding a combat knife in your hand. “Did you call for the Terminator?”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx

@screechingartisancashbailiff

@fallen-wolf22

@sister-winchesters99

@mogaruke

@the-is13

@helloitsmeamie203

@sandlee44

@strayrosesbloom

@notyourtypicalrose

@thewinchesterco

@marvelfansworld

@hobby27

@gh0stgurl

@flamencodiva

@jay-and-dean

@voltage-my2dlove

@spnhollis

@chonisberonica

@wittysunflower

@supernaturalenchanted

@shikshinkwon

@yolobloggers

@hhiggs

@laxe-from-outer-space

@ilovefanfic86

@linki-locks11

@eggingamazinglove

@trumpettay

@fandom-imagines1

@thenamelesschibi

@waywardbaby

@straycuties9

@drakelover78

@stuckys-whore

@zxph-yr

@i-love-superhero

@ticklemewigglysk

@deepmuffinspymaker

@katsav17

@heyitscam99

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@neii3n

@exo-nova

@cocklesbelli

@echoesofpassion

@lauravic

@shatteredabby

@deanmonandnegansbitch

@sea040561

@lemondropirwin

@lonewolf471

@wronglanemendes

@juniorhuntersam

@helpmeluci

@goodgodimaweirdperson

@shadowkat-83

@alltimesamantha

@officialmarvelwhore

@meganywinchester

@miraclesoflove

@maniacproffesor

@hollymac79

@kayla-2000

@gracefultrenchcoat494

@babygirls-fav

@spnwoman

@amiquette

@stormchasingchick32

@geekofmanyforms

@jessica-marsh09

@spnficgirl

@shut-themoonscone

@thequeenreaders

@countrygal17a

@atomicfandombomb

@kteelou

@soryuwifeyxx

@defenderrosetyler

@shortwinchester

@maybesomedaygayyyy

@octobereids

@sabascio

@that-place-called-middle-earth

@the-broken-angel-13

@bunnybaby89

@pandabiiissh

@maddiedott

@lilulo-12

@theoneandonlymelol

@mblaqgi

@clawsandshotguns

@justsomedreaming

@cassiopeia-barrow

@its-the-timey-wimey-winchesters

@mscarter213

@jo-like-josette

@mep6811

@prettydeaneyes

@rvgrsbrns

@deanwanddamons

@tearsforhan

@skittlebittzz

@certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel

@belovedcherry

@amandamdiehl

@emaanjffri

@sycochick

@nickyrose3123

@abeautifuldiaster124

@matsumama

@rynabarnesrogers-reading

@homeorbust

--------------------------------------

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2

@supernatural-bellawinchester

@negans-lucille-tblr

@deans-baby-momma

@thefaithfulwriter

@squirrelnotsam

@roonyxx

@neerness

@deansgirl-1968

@spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

@butifulsoul125

@lyinginthegingerlocks

@neen-illustrates

@janicho88

@woodworthti666

@thevelvetseries

@dreaminemz

@akshi8278

@midnightsilver16830

@mrspeacem1nusone

@ria132love

@caligraphee

@the-witch-in-silence

@justanotherwinchester

@multisuperfandom

@jason-todd-squad

@jadesupernatural

@psychicforest

@luciathewinchestergirl

@magssteenkamp

@palefiregiver

@tranquility-or-chaos

@jxackles

@michellemxndes

@addictedtofictionalcharacters

@gabifernandessn

@waywardrose13

@team-free-will-you-idjiot

@myopiamystical

@rintheemolion

@isthatabutterfly

@bluecornflowers

@rosalynshields

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#Ms. Bodyguard - The knife #angst #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen x bodyguard!reader #bodyguard reader #Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist #clif kosterman #Jared Padalecki #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles series

257 notes · View notes

quickspinner · 4 years

Text

I’ll Give You the Stars - Ch 2 Rise to the Challenge

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Out of chaos comes creation. Or at least rock concerts. Still, there was a flow to the madness backstage, an order that defied observation but still worked towards a common goal. Penny somehow located an eddy in the swirl of people where Luka and Marinette could both sit in relative safety and have a clear view of the stage. She had tall stools relocated from somewhere for the two teens to use, and advised them to plant themselves and not move lest they cause some sort of mishap (Luka pretended not to notice that Penny looked at Marinette when she said this).

While they waited, Luka took the opportunity to text Juleka to make sure she had connected with their bandmates and gotten in okay. He also gave her a brief account of everything that had happened so far and where he was now. Her response made him laugh so hard he nearly fell over.

“What?” Marinette asked, giggling.

“I think Jules is a little jealous,” he chuckled, turning his phone towards her so that she could see the stream of exclamation points and emojis Juleka had sent him.

Marinette laughed with him then, covering her mouth. “Oh, poor thing. But it’ll be easier to bring her in once you’ve got your foot in the door, and I know she knows you wouldn’t forget about her.”

Luka smiled, because she was absolutely right. He teased Juleka for a few more messages before he admitted it to her though. Then he put his phone away.

The opening act was good, blending rock music and classical instruments in a really interesting way. When they left the stage he found himself tapping out a rhythm on his knee as he listened to a new melody unfold in his mind.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there staring into space when Marinette nudged him, but when he looked at her she was holding her sketchbook and pencil out to him. She’d turned to a blank page and lined it for him. “I know that look,” she smirked. “Write it down before you lose it.”

“You’re the best,” he said, taking it from her. It was so nice to be with (next to, not with, they weren’t together no matter how comfortable they’d been today) someone who understood, he thought absently as he scribbled his thoughts into the staff she’d drawn for him. The lines weren’t perfect but they were much better than what he could’ve done freehand.

“Just promise you’ll play it for me later.” She patted his arm and he glanced up with a smile.

“Deal.”

When Jagged Stone took the stage, Luka and Marinette were on their feet instantly. Jagged Stone might be eccentric and impulsive but no one could deny that he was more than a singer, he was an entertainer . Luka spared a derisive thought for that spiritless, passionless “artist” XY. All his flash and special effects couldn’t rival Jagged Stone’s sheer charisma on stage. Standing so close, Luka could feel the music all the way down to his bones. It was exhilarating, he loved it, he’d only ever felt this connected when he was playing himself. Conversation was impossible but he caught Marinette’s hand, lacing their fingers together so that his palm pressed hers and he could feel the music through her body as well as his own. He could feel she was cringing slightly, and he glanced at her. She mouthed the word “loud” at him and he could only grin back at her and mouth back “awesome.” She rolled her eyes at him and he turned back to the stage.

When Jagged took a break, he leaned down to her. “Are you okay? We can find somewhere else to watch if you want.”

She shook her head. “I know you want to stay here. I can see you’re loving every minute of this.”

“I am, but not if you’re uncomfortable.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m getting used to it.”

Suddenly Penny appeared at their shoulders. “Luka,” she said urgently, “Jagged wants you to play when he goes back on.”

“WHAT?” Luka stared at her, too shocked to be polite.

“I tried to talk him out of it but he’s stuck on it. He’ll be out there announcing it any minute but I wanted to give you at least a little warning.” Even as she spoke the members of the small backup band were taking their places. Penny put her hand on Luka’s shoulder. “Miraculous is next up in the set list. I told him this was too much pressure but he said you could handle it. He believes in you.”

He felt Marinette's fingers dig into his arm. “Breathe, Luka!” she said urgently and he sucked in a breath, and then another one, too fast. “Are you okay?”

There was a chorus of screams and Luka looked up to see Jagged walking on stage screaming “Rock ‘n roll!”

Luka shot Penny a desperate look but there was no hope of reprieve in her expression. Apparently this was happening and he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. At least he knew Miraculous, it was one of the songs he’d played with Jagged back in the lounge. But he’d never rehearsed with these people before! It took time for a group to gel, you couldn’t just—but Miraculous was mostly guitar and vocals with a pretty basic bass and drum line, Jagged was a solo artist after all and his backup would be used to following the lead guitar, but still, he couldn’t seriously expect—

Luka saw Jagged look their way, and then turn back to the microphone, and the singer’s next words made his stomach drop through the floor.

“How about we have us a guest guitarist for this song? We’ve got one of Paris’ own young up and coming talents here with us today, let’s get him out here!”

Despite the warning Luka’s lips parted in surprise and his breath quickened again. He looked at Marinette, who stared back at him with eyes so wide they looked like they might fall out of her head. The crowd cheered mindlessly.

Luka looked back just in time to meet Jagged’s eyes across the stage. “Come on out here, Luka!” the star hollered into the microphone, waving him down.

His brain disconnected from his body. He was only dimly aware of the pressure of Marinette’s hand on his bicep, the slide of her fingers as he pulled away, the thud of his combat boots on the wood of the stage, the roar of the crowd as he crossed the stage and took with numb hands the guitar that Jagged handed him. “Whenever you’re ready, kid,” Jagged told him, yelling near his ear to be heard over the massive crowd in the stadium. “Don’t be nervous, show ‘em what you got.”

Don’t be nervous, are you serious?

Luka put the guitar strap over his head and settled it comfortably, glancing back off stage as he dug in his pocket for a pick. He could just barely see Marinette standing in the wings with her hands over her mouth, eyes still wide as saucers. He let his eyes skim once over the crowd, taking them in as best he could’ve with the blinding lights, and then he looked down at his feet again. His head shot back up as four voices (which shouldn’t have been nearly loud enough to reach him except that two of them were Ivan and Rose and one was Juleka, who seemed to hoard all her volume for special occasions like these) near the front screamed “KITTY SECTION” in unison and he grinned in their general direction, though he couldn’t see them because of the lights. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling the stage beneath his feet and the energy of the crowd crawling up through his blood. This was insane but...awesome. The thrill of performing began to push back the fear. Oddly enough, even though this was a far bigger crowd than any he’d been in front of before, this was easier than performing one on one for the King of Rock. After all, he smirked, Luka Couffaine had never failed an audience and he would not start that night. He took one more breath, raising his fist to acknowledge the screaming crowd, and then he flipped his pick, placed his fingers on the fretboard, and nodded to Jagged Stone.

The drummer counted them off, Luka began to play...and he killed it. If this was his fifteen minutes of fame he would die happy. The crowd was roaring, Jagged’s energy was contagious, and it was the best Luka had played in his life.

Luka walked off the stage in a euphoric haze, barely aware of Marinette as she took his arm and guided him back to the lounge and sat him down on the couch.

“Did that seriously just happen?” Luka asked her, putting his face in his hands. “Did I really just do that.” He drew his hands down his face until they were just in front of his mouth as he stared at nothing. “Man, what a rush.”

Marinette let out a little squeal, wrapping both hands around his upper arm and bouncing in place. “Luka, that was awesome!! You just played LIVE with JAGGED STONE and I can’t believe you just did that either, I would have DIED! I swear, I had no idea he was going to call you up there. He must have been so impressed with you.” She squealed again and threw her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him in a quick hug before leaning back again to clap her hands and bounce some more.

The adrenaline was doing weird things to his body and she was doing weird things to his heart. Luka caught her face in his hands, cupping under her jaw, and had just enough self-control left to plant his kiss on her cheek and not her mouth. “You’re amazing, Marinette,” he whispered, face still pressed to hers. “Thank you so much.”

“All I did was introduce you,” she said, blushing hard. Her fingertips came to rest shyly on his wrists. “The rest of it was all you.”

He grinned, kissed her cheek again and let her go. “Amazing,” he repeated, pulling his frantically vibrating phone out of his pocket to turn it off.

“You’re the one who’s amazing,” Marinette insisted, recovering some of her composure. “You went out there with no warning and no rehearsal and you didn’t even look scared!”

Luka laughed breathlessly. “Terrified is more like it.”

“It didn’t show. You walked out on that stage like you owned it.” Marinette’s eyes shone and he was pretty sure if his heart beat any faster he would keel over and die. “You’re so brave, Luka!”

“Tell that to my hands,” he muttered, raising them to show her how they shook. “And I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stand right now if my life depended on it.”

Marinette took his hand and laced her fingers through his. “That’s just the adrenaline reaction. That was a huge amount of pressure Luka and you pulled it off!”

Luka let his head drop and closed his eyes, trying to focus on breathing, on trying to slow his heart and calm the blood still singing in his veins to the beat of Jagged’s music that they could still hear, even back here. Marinette freed her hand from his and he felt her move away, but she was back moments later, pressing a cold bottle of water into his hands. He took it gratefully and threw his head back to drink it. He managed to keep himself from chugging, knowing that it would make him sick, and pressed the cool bottle to his forehead, focusing on the cold and the crinkle of the plastic in his fingers.

When he looked back at Marinette she was staring at him with a slightly glazed expression and a healthy blush that did dangerous things to him. Her blush darkened as he stared back at her, and—look away, look away now. Tearing his gaze away felt like ripping out his own heart.

Luka always felt high after performing but this was a whole other level of intensity. He really needed to be somewhere else—anywhere that was not alone with Marinette in a closed room while she was looking at him like that.

“I’m okay now,” he said roughly, standing and pulling her up with him. “Let’s go watch the rest of the show.” She squeaked as he threaded his fingers through hers and they made their way back to their place in the wings.

The only thing he remembered from the rest of the show was the feel of their hands locked together.

He was still in some weird fugue state as they said goodbye to Penny and she let them out of the security door into the night. Luka’s phone was still off but Marinette had been texting to Rose, and she guided him to the rest of the group.

As soon as he spotted them Luka broke into a run, catching up Juleka and swinging her around while she pounded his back. Rose threw herself on them both, and they were only saved from topping over by Marinette hitting them from the other side. Ivan wrapped his arms as far as he could around the whole group and nearly lifted them all off of the ground.

“Okay, okay,” Luka laughed from the center of the pile. “You guys are crushing me here!”

They all peeled away, giggling, and Luka threw an arm each around Juleka and Marinette. “You guys are seriously the best, I mean it,” he said, addressing the whole group. “It was huge, knowing you were out there.”

“Oh, Luka, this is so exciting!” Rose squealed. “You’ll be famous and you’ll get to go on tour and see so many exciting places and meet so many wonderful new people and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, Rose,” Luka laughed. “Let’s hold off on planning the world tour, okay?”

“You really were great,” Mylène said from where she was hanging back, clinging onto Ivan’s shirt tail. She looked a little shy, being the outsider of the group. Luka smiled at her.

“Thanks Mylène. I thought I was going to die once I got off that stage.”

“Did Marinette give you CPR?” Juleka mumbled beside him, and he immediately shifted his arm until he had her in a headlock.

“Somebody better watch her mouth if she wants to meet Jagged Stone anytime soon,” he grumbled, and then immediately released Juleka when he felt her perfectly manicured nails digging threateningly into his arm. “Okay, okay, not the claws, ow!” He knocked into Marinette in his haste to get away from his sister, and only just managed to twist and catch her around the waist before they both tipped over.

“You better come back to earth before someone gets hurt,” Ivan chuckled. “You’re seriously wired, Luka.”

“Sorry, Marinette.” Luka made sure she was steady and then drew away, hoping he wasn’t too red. He’d been kind of all over her all day, he knew, and while she was an affectionate person and hadn’t seemed to mind, he’d better get his act together.

Fortunately Mylène diverted her attention just then with a question he didn’t quite catch and he had a moment to get ahold of himself. Luka stepped slightly away from the group, digging in his pocket for his pick, aware that Juleka immediately moved to block him slightly so he could have a little space.

When he’d calmed himself down a bit, he returned to the group, flashing a quick smile at Juleka. “Lila?” Marinette was saying, in a tone that surprised Luka. “No, we didn’t see her, why?”

Mylène shrugged. “We invited her to come with us, but she said Jagged had already called her and offered to let her watch the show from backstage. Since you were back there too I thought you would have seen her, but I guess it’s pretty crazy backstage.”

Marinette was clearly trying to keep a neutral face, but Luka could sense something negative going on with her. Her voice sounded all kinds of wrong to him, though all she said was, “It was pretty chaotic.”

“Weird, though,” Luka said with a shrug. “I mean there wasn’t all that much room on the sides, and we didn’t see anybody in the lounge before the show. You’d think Jagged would’ve said something if one of your classmates was there.”

There was gratitude he didn’t quite understand in Marinette’s eyes when she looked up at him, but he smiled back at her reassuringly.

“Guys, it’s been awesome, but we gotta go if we’re gonna be home by curfew.” Ivan put his arm around Mylène.

“You’re staying with Rose tonight, right?” Luka asked Juleka, who nodded. “Text me when you get there, okay?” Juleka just gave him a deadpan stare, but Rose winked and nodded. He turned to Marinette. “Can I walk you home?”

“Oh, you don’t need to, I can take care of myself, it’s fine!”

“I know,” Luka smiled down at her as the others began to walk off. “Can I walk you home anyway?”

Marinette blushed prettily. “Sure.”

As soon as they got to the main sidewalk they were caught in the rest of the crowd leaving the venue. After seeing the petite girl nearly get knocked down twice, Luka pulled Marinette in front of him where he could shield her at least a little bit, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” he muttered in her ear, pulling her a little closer to him. “I’m afraid you’ll get crushed if I let you go.” He steadied her as somebody knocked into them again. “Let’s walk down to the next metro station instead, it should be less crowded there.” Luka kept his head down, hoping no one would recognize him as the guy who’d been called on stage, but no one seemed to be thinking about anything other than getting ahead.

Things did clear out considerably once they were passed the closest stop, and they both breathed a sigh of relief once the crowd had eased. Just as Luka thought they were free and clear, they passed under the light of a street lamp and suddenly he heard a chorus of “Luka!” from across the street. As soon as he looked in that direction he heard a squeal and a small cluster of people came running across the street, giggling as they stopped in front of him.

“It is you, I knew it!” one of them practically cooed, reaching out to twirl one of his blue tips. Luka took a step back, automatically shifting his arm back to move Marinette behind him.

“Sorry, have we met?” he asked, glancing across the group of four girls. They looked close to his age, but he didn’t recognize any of them.

“We saw you on stage,” another one giggled.

Ah, now he understood. He relaxed and smiled back at them. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”

“You were awesome,” gushed the girl who had touched him. “Could you sign my program?”

Luka blinked. “Sure,” he said, taking the booklet and sharpie she shoved at him. “Thanks for your support. What’s your name?”

“Veronique!”

“That’s pretty.” He smiled at her and signed her program and then the ones the other two passed him.

The last girl, who looked a little older than the others, pouted and opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, I must have lost mine. I don’t have anything for you to sign. Hmmm...” she pressed a finger to her lips thoughtfully. Luka had a feeling he knew where this was going and he was not about to let it get there. Instead he smirked, took her hand and turned it up, and signed the inside of the girl’s wrist. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “Can I get a phone number to go with it?”

“Ah, I’m keeping that top secret for now.” Luka winked. “But you can follow our band, Kitty Section, on Instagram.” He wrote their handle under his name and released her, stepping back. He reached blindly behind him and felt Marinette take his hand. “You ladies have a good night. I’m afraid I have somewhere to be, but I hope we’ll see you at Kitty Section’s next show.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just waved and pulled Marinette down the sidewalk. “Well that was embarrassing,” Luka muttered, running his free hand through his hair.

“The price of fame?” Marinette suggested, but her smile looked forced.

“At least it was good publicity for the band,” sighed Luka. “They seemed harmless enough, except the one girl. She didn’t really have a creepy stalker vibe, at least.”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” Marinette replied stiffly, and Luka snorted.

“I’ve been playing in bands since I was thirteen, Marinette, mostly with guys older than me, and I’ve picked up a thing or two about how to deal with fans. Although it’s unsettling to be the focus.” He snickered. “Trust me, when it happens to someone else it’s hilarious. The second band I played with, the lead singer was seventeen and gorgeous, and watching him trying to play up his girl fans without getting molested was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He glanced at her and smiled to himself as she relaxed. “Besides, I knew you were there to rescue me,” he teased, squeezing her hand. “You always come up with something.”

“Or maybe I would have left you there. I’m beginning to think you’re as bad a flirt as Chat Noir.”

Luka laughed heartily as they went down the metro steps. “I am so much smoother than Chat Noir. I mean, I have nothing but respect for the guy and what he does for the city, but he flirts like he learned all his lines from bad romcoms.”

“I didn’t realize you were such an expert,” Marinette sniffed as they reached the platform, pulling her hand away and folding her arms.

Luka stepped close to her, and then leaned in just a little. “Marinette. Are you going to make me say it? Again?”

She turned a highly satisfying shade of red. “N-now that I know you’re such a master flirt,” she stammered, “Maybe I shouldn’t believe anything you say.”

“Do you know what the difference is between good flirting and bad flirting really is?” He leaned the tiniest bit closer, and lightly tapped the guitar pick around her neck. “Sincerity. I meant every word I said to those girls, and every word I’ve ever said to you.”

She made a strangled, inarticulate noise, and he straightened, not even bothering to hide his smile. He stood next to her on the platform, and shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting for Marinette to regain her power of speech.

As they stood there, Luka remembered their earlier conversation, and glanced sidelong at Marinette. “So...who’s Lila?”

Marinette’s face twisted in distaste.

“Wow, that bad, huh?”

Marinette flushed. “No, I mean, well, she’s...uh…”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he told her. “But you don’t have to pretend, you’re allowed not to like someone. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Popular opinion is against you on that one,” Marinette grumbled, and then she hesitated. “And...she’s Juleka’s friend…”

Luka smiled, and bumped his arm lightly against hers. “I’m not Juleka.”

Marinette sighed, and chewed her lip for a moment, and then her shoulders slumped and she gave him a tired smile. “Honestly, she’s a liar and a manipulator and I don’t really want to ruin this night talking about her. Some other time, okay?”

“Sure,” he said softly, motioning her ahead of him to board the train. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier but you look really cute tonight,” Luka said as they settled in seats.

Marinette made a face. “Jagged called me a punk wanna be.”

Luka chuckled. “I think it’s perfect. It’s fun and still totally you. You should’ve called Juleka and let us do your hair, you’d have been adorable with pink tips.” He reached out and flicked her bangs.

Marinette giggled. “Maybe next time.”

“That’s a cool bag.”

Marinette brightened as she lifted it from her lap. “It’s hand embroidered! My Nonna Gina travels all over the world, and she brought me a shirt back from her last trip for my birthday, only it kinda didn’t fit, so I used it to make this! It doesn’t match my outfit but it’s bigger than my other one so I can fit my smaller sketchbook in it. Oh, I wish you could meet her, you’d love her. She wears a motorcycle and rides a leather jacket and—“ she stopped with a blush and a giggle, realizing she was rambling. “Anyway. She’s really cool.”

“I’d love to meet her sometime,” Luka chuckled. He folded his hands together and leaned forward a little to rest his elbows on his knees.

The weight of the day was finally starting to settle on him. He came to the unsettling realization hat he no longer knew what tomorrow would look like. Marinette has opened this incredible door for him and now he had to figure out how to walk through and keep going—and he wasn’t even sure who would be with him as he did so. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Luka?” Marinette leaned into him a little, trying to see his face.

“I’m okay. It’s just...kind of all hitting me at once.”

“Can I help?” Her fingers curled around his upper arm.

“There’s nothing wrong, it’s just...a lot. This whole thing has been like a dream,” he confessed. “It still doesn’t seem real. And I’m not really sure how I’m feeling, to be honest. It’s...scary, the idea that this big dream you have could actually happen, and…is it completely weird and ungrateful not to be sure that you want it? Or maybe I’m just scared of getting so close and then crashing and burning.”

Marinette squeezed his arm. “No, I think that’s totally natural. It’s easy to overlook all the downsides when it’s just a dream. You got a taste of the reality today, some of the bad along with the good, and it’ll probably be worse tomorrow when everyone sees it online or on the news or wherever. And I think that crashing and burning at the worst possible moment is something that every artist fears.”

“You’re an artist, Marinette.”

Her smile was sad. “And I’m a mess. I doubt myself all the time. How could I not, I’m such a disaster. Half the time I can’t even speak clearly. But then, there are moments...well, you remember Adrien, right? His dad is a super famous fashion designer, one of my idols. He sponsored a design contest at my school, and someone copied my design. So I had to stand there and defend my work to the Gabriel Agreste.” She shook her head, eyes going misty. “I killed it, Luka. I was clear and calm and I destroyed Chl-uh, the copycat designer and I won the competition. And those are the moments where I really believe it can happen. Just like when you were up on that stage today. You could have refused to go out there. You could have tried and choked. But you didn’t.” she squeezed his arm again. “You went out there and you slayed that crowd, and you loved every minute of it.”

Luka’s eyes were on his feet but a slow smile spread over his face. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I really did.”

“So hold onto that,” Marinette told him, and he lifted his gaze to hers, a tight feeling in his chest. “If this is what you want, you can totally do it. And if it turns out that it’s not what you want, that’s okay too. I didn't introduce you to Jagged to make you miserable. This is your dream, you get to decide what it looks like.”

What if it looks like you? he thought, mesmerized by her eyes, her earnestness, her kindness, and those perfect pink lips. It just wasn’t fair for her to have such a sweet little mouth.

Marinette stood up quickly. “Oops, this is our stop.”

He spent the rest of the walk out of the metro and up to the bakery trying to talk sense into himself. Sure, she liked him, but she wanted someone else, and yeah, she wasn’t dating Adrien yet, but she didn’t want to date Luka either, and he’d be putting her in a tough spot but he wanted it so badly, and he liked her and she liked him and couldn’t that be good enough for just one minute, it wasn’t like he was proposing marriage—

He opened the side door of the bakery for her and followed her into the relative privacy of the stairwell, still balanced on a knife edge of indecision.

Then she smiled at him. “Thanks for walking me home, Luka.”

Screw it.

“Marinette, can I kiss you?” he asked.

Marinette squeaked, blue eyes wide.

“Listen, I know you’re not ready for anything to change between us,” he continued quickly, “and you might not ever be, and I’m cool with that, I really am. And you can say yes or you can say no and either way it won’t change a thing. I know I’m being selfish asking, but I’m feeling so much after everything today, and I just…” He swallowed, “I just really really want to,” he finished huskily. His whole being hummed with tension. He was too much, he was too intense, he was completely going to freak her out but he couldn’t look away. He reached out to grip the stair rail beside her because he needed to feel the cool metal and the way the edges cut into his palm, but he made sure not to lean into her space, leaving her plenty of room to get away from him if she was uncomfortable.

And then she was looking at him with those soft eyes, the ones that sang to him of “really?” and “why me?” and that heart-stopping “maybe…”

“Okay,” she said quietly, cheeks perfectly pink and shoulders slightly hunched, but smiling.

“You sure?” he couldn’t help asking as he brushed his thumb against the perfect bow of her lips, a thrill skittering through him when she didn’t pull away, only nodded shyly.

He leaned down and kissed her, eyes closing as soon as he felt her plush lips under his. He kept it soft and slow, breath catching slightly when she curled her fingers in his shirt and kissed him back, following his lead easily. His free hand came up to rest against her neck, and Luka felt her shiver at the feel of his fingertips stroking lightly at her nape, his thumb just brushing her jaw. He guided her a little deeper, still slow, still tender and innocent. He was a little shocked at how good it felt. He’d kissed girls before and never really thought it was a big deal, but this…I am in so much trouble. Even caught up in her he could hear the music they made in the mingling of breath, the meeting and parting and meeting again of lips, the flutter of her pulse against his palm. He lingered, lips moving over hers until he felt her begin to pull away, and then straightened with a sigh, stroking her cheek once as he let his hand fall away.

“Wow,” she touched her lips. “Now that...that was a first kiss worth remembering.”

“Yeah,” Luka cleared his throat. “That was...really, really nice.” He raised his eyebrows slightly. “First kiss with me, or…”

Marinette blushed and looked at her feet. “First kiss at all. Um, sort of. It’s complicated? But, yes, if someone asked me about my first kiss, it would definitely be that.”

“I’m honored.” Luka took her hand, cradling it loosely in his, and waited until she looked back up at him. “Thank you for everything today, Marinette. I just...there’s no other words. Thank you.”

The smile she gave him was so full of affection that it hurt. “You deserve it, Luka. You’ve always been so supportive and so good to me, and—well, I’m happy I could do something for you.”

He smiled, and uncurled his white-knuckle grip on the stair rail to back towards the door, her hand sliding out of his as he moved away. “Goodnight Marinette.”

“Goodnight Luka.”

He had to lean against the wall for a moment once he was back outside.

#quickspins #backlog #i'll give you the stars #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #mlfics #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

51 notes · View notes

grouptalekindnesssoulstories · 4 years

Text

You can’t be my soulmate!

So, I kinda got a sugar rush when I was watching a tiktok compilation on youtube. And the idea of the first words but with multiple people popped in my head. So I decided to do a lil snippet. I may still have too much in my system but eehhhhhhh just makes my brain go zoom!

Warnings: Misgendering, manipulation, a mention of homophobia, mention of disownment

What are you laughing at hot topic? haunted each day that Virgil didn’t find his soulmate.

I love the new outfit caused Roman to switch up his attire everyday he could, but being a well-known actor made that a common sentence. Not a very common first sentence luckily.

Thanks, why wear those gloves? shamed Ethan every time they removed the aforementioned gloves.

___

I fiddled with my newest piercing, the third on my ears. I had gotten it less than two months ago, which had gotten dirty looks from my parents when i saw them. They had disowned me several years prior after learning I was gay, and trans. With a shit-eating grin, I flipped them a double bird. After they turned away in horror, I mounted my motorcycle and roared down the streets. I parked it behind the restaurant I worked at, locking it up on a special pole my brother had installed when I got hired.

“Reeem. Seen our parents lately?” I called as I shoved open the back door. He poked his head back, tilting his sunglasses down as I removed my patchwork hoodie.

“What parents. All you’ve got is me, babes. But, yes. I saw the people who birthed us a few days ago. I assume you ran across them and they disapproved?”

“Of what? My top surgery, new piercing? Answer to that one is all of it” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and waved to one of his partners, Remus. I tapped my ear after tying on an apron. He pulled out his ear so I could see the blue pin in it. I shot a thumbs-up as I straightened my posture to wait on my first table. The first few hours passed in a blur of people I didn’t care to make note of.

“Excuse me, sir. I believe we have a reservation?” A weedy man flagged me down. I raised an eyebrow as I checked the schedule.

“Only one, and that’s for R. Roy. One sec-” I turned around and shouted over my shoulder “Re? What time was the reservation coming in?”

“That’s for m-”

“Uh, 3 o’clock or so” Remus surfaced, cutting off the man.

“I’m afraid I’m here on Mr. Roy’s beh-” The man tried again, this time I cut him off.

“That was twenty minutes ago. And where did Brit go? They were supposed to be doing this”

“EXCUSE ME. I AM HERE TO MAKE SURE MR. ROY’S TABLE IS READY” The man practically screamed, cutting off our conversation.

“Ah, I’m afraid he’ll have to come himself. We only answer to our customers” Re cut in, smiling wide.

“You and I both know that isn’t true you idiot” An almost-familiar voice accompanied the man himself.

“RoRo!” My sibling-in-law immediately brightened, scooping the smaller man into a hug. I chuckled behind one hand as the man made breathless protests. When he was at last released, my laughter got louder because it was the Roman Roy, and his appearance was all mused up now.

“I’m so sorry sir! I’ll go get your backup right now!” The assistant started to buzz nervously around the famous man, reminding me of a fly.

“No, no. I’ll be fine. This is a family place, so it’s not a big deal if I look a little messed up” He soothed, waving the man out the door. My laughter had not ceased by the time he had turned his attention to me.

“What are you laughing at hot topic?” I clasped my wrist as the words tattooed across it flared with heat. I shoved the discomfort down, offering my hand.

“Only your fly-like assistant. I’m Virgil Maelstrom. I’m the younger brother of that idiot’s partner. Or one of them at least” Mr Roy took my hand, shaking it briskly before following Remus to the table near the counter. I pulled down my sleeve to see a name written under my words. Roman. I was soulmates with ROMAN ROY the singer! How did I end up with him. Emile caught me staring numbly as new words appeared beneath the original ones.

“So. Finally met your soulmate?” They asked, a soft smile gracing their features. The smile that had caused my crush all those years ago. I had long grown out of it, but it still held power for their partners and me.

“One of them I guess. It’s Roman Roy” I whispered the last part, showing them my arm. They hummed thoughtfully, messaging their own wrist. Rem had told me about his own experiences all those years ago, but to actually experience it was insane.

“Well, why don’t you go tell him?”

“I...can’t. He didn’t react to me saying anything. It was like I was just another person, y’know?”

“Well, as your sibling-in-law, I say we’re gonna tell him. C’mon” They pulled me after them. I tried to make excuses, but the doctor was in full help mode. There would be no stopping them.

“Uh, what’s up honey?” Re asked, looking confused at the determined march.

“Roman. Good to see you. I found you a soulmate” They yanked me forward as they spoke, lighting up in pride.

“Look, I’m sorry. They’re just re-” I started babbling, reaching my exposed arm up, forgetting it was free for anyone to read.

“That’s my name” A soft voice interrupted me. Then a whoop from Re shattered the shock.

“Lil’ bro! Look at that, two siblings, two chance meetings in this restaurant!”

“What did you say your name was-ow!” He cried out as words burned into his arm. Only your fly-like assistant -Virgil appeared beneath another set of words.

“I- Virgil. I’m Virgil Maelstrom. And it looks like we have another soulmate” He scooted over, nodding for me to sit by him. I took it hesitatingly, watching as his hands started moving as Remus drew him back into a conversation. The shop was closed as Roman ate, and paid for the rest of us to join him. I buzzed nervously, playing my my earring once more. It wasn’t until we were cleaning up when Roman approached me.

“So. Uh. Virgil? Would you. Would you w-. Wouldyoubemyboyfriend?” He stammered, so at odds with how he was when in the public eye. I nodded mutely, and he swept me into a hug.

~Elsewhere, A few months later?~

My hands shook as I reached for the top shelf. I wobbled, leaning heavily on my cane. I snarled, planting my cane firmly and stretching for the stuff I had put up there.

“Sir, do you need help?” A woman approached me. I nodded, and she got it down easily.

“Thank you mx-”

“Oh, no. It’s Mrs. Smith. Have a good day sir!” She pranced off, ignoring my protest that I was not a ‘sir’. The fire that had scarred me burned away my gender too. I hoisted the bag onto my good shoulder and walked the opposite way. I did not look forward to returning to the place I was forced to call ‘home’.

“I’m home” I called, opening the door slowly. My girlfriend ran around the corner, beaming.

“Sweetie! I missed you so much! I was gonna be so sad if you hadn’t gotten back so soon!” She nearly yelled, her face dropping slightly at the thought.

“No, I wouldn’t. You know I try to be home as soon as I can” I offered a soothing smile. She took my cane and dragged me after her. She ignored my winces, her face screwed up so she couldn’t see. I kept as quiet as I could until the tv concert of Double R. I beamed as he sung, his current outfit looking so much better on him than the previous. When it had finished, my girlfriend was fast asleep on the opposite side of the couch. On a complete whim, I stood up and limped to the door. Taking my cane, I set out on a walk.

~~~~

“Ro, be careful. You’re easily recognizable” Virgil begged as I stepped outside.

“Don’t worry my storm cloud. I promise to not draw unnecessary attention-” He snorted so I revised my statement with a glare “-I promise not to draw any attention to myself. I’ll be back soon”

“Whatever. I’ll have my phone on me, so call if you get in trouble” He closed the door behind him. We had been dating for a few months, and they’d been the best (and safest, but don’t tell Virgil that) of my life. I couldn’t wait to meet the third member of our soulmate bond though. I drew the hood of my sweatshirt, borrowed from Virge, up over my head. I wandered aimlessly for a while before deciding to get some milkshakes before heading back. I bumped into someone as I was putting in my earbuds.

“Oh my gosh, are you ok?!” I asked them, and they waved me off.

“Yea whatever” They mumbled to the ground. I offered them a hand up. They took it and when meeting my eyes, just stared.

“I love the new outfit!” They finally blurted out. I let out a yelp as my arm suddenly got warm.

“Thanks! I uh, I think you should know that you may be my second soulmate?” I said, drawing back my sleeve to show them my first message. Just like when Virgil’s message had finally appeared on my arm, there was a name there now. Blocky letters spelled out: Ethan.

“I...yea. That’s my name. I’m Ethan! Ethan Snips. They/them please” they spoke hurriedly. I nodded, sweeping them up into a hug.

“C’mon! You’ve gotta meet your other soulmate now” I smiled as they stared in disbelief when my own first sentence to them appeared with my name.

___

I was soulmates with Roman. Roy! And there was a third person. I obviously needed to meet them as I had their message left. But I had two soulmates and one of them is famous!

“Wait I- nevermind. Please, just take me to meet them” I smiled, limping after him as quickly as possible. He bought three milkshakes, which he rudely refused to give me mine until we got back. We were near his trailer when I heard her.

“She doesn’t sound happy” Roman turned nervously towards the sound.

“No, she isn’t. Hurry, please” I nearly shoved him in my haste to get away.

“Bad?” He asked, meeting my eyes. I noticed he didn’t even seem to register my scars

“Very bad” I nodded, raising a hand up towards my blind eye as if it would keep her from coming.

“HELP! SECURITY!” He screamed at the top of his lungs before scooping me up and running. I yelped, clinging to my cane and the arm wrapped around my chest.

“Princey, you idiot, what did you do!” A dark haired man appeared, one hand already on his hip.

“Reeescued someone?” Roman smiled charmingly.

“You idiot. He’s pretty, so I can see why you wanted to be knight in shining armor”

“No, you’re prettier. Handsome! Like the moon” I mumbled dazed.

“Thanks, why wear those gloves?” I saw his frazzled gaze on my threadbare gloves. I clapped one hand to my arm where warmth radiated suddenly. I raised my cane in answer.

“This is Ethan! Our second soulmate! Uh, they/them. I need to explain to the head of security why I uh...just screamed. Have fun!” Roman dashed out the door.

“I’m Virgil. I’m assuming that was your mark suddenly warm, so my name should be under it” He sat a few feet away, playing with a small ball. I checked, and that was true. He didn’t move any closer or try to continue the conversation. It seemed like his question was more of a defense mechanism than him actually asking.

“Virgil?”

“Hm? What’s up?” He looked up.

“What’s your family like?” There was a small chuckle as he picked up the ball and started tossing it between his hands.

“Well, I’m assuming you don’t want to hear about my parents. They disowned me a few years back. My older brother Remy basically raised me anyways. He married Ro’s older sibling, and Dr. Picani. I work at the restaurant they own. I met Ro a few months back when he came in, and we started dating”

“Oh.” I traced the end of my shoe in thought.

“Here. A secret for a secret? I’ll you something most people don’t know about me for something about you?”

“Uh, sure. My middle name is Daniel”

“Ohhhh that’s kinda sweet! Well, I’m trans”

“Huh. And once again society has made equal exchange impossible”

“Ah! I see we have a philosopher” Roman came back in, kicking off his shoes and handing out replacement milkshakes.

“Yea. it happened aft-After a certain`”

“You don’t have to tell us if you’re not ready. We have time” Virgil interrupted me.

“No. No, I want it in the open. I was caught in a fire, which caused serious damage to most of my left side, and my hands” I pulled off my gloves, showing the scars that across them. Virgil reached over, offering a hand in invitation. I shook my head and he withdrew it without comment. I already felt safer with these two than I had with anyone else.

#sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic roman #sympathetic virgil #manipulation #prinxieceit

32 notes · View notes

mellowmoonballoon · 3 years

Text

P2 of the Primer - Minho!

Fandom primer for fandom feels.

So, Minho, dance leader!

Minho (Lee Know, Lino...) is the Stray Kids’ Marilla Cuthbert. Very controlled with showing his feelings. Wants to feed everyone. Hard working and practical. Dresses like an old woman who is constantly freezing.

His lack of desire to embarrass himself on screen is very relatable to all anxious perfectionist introverts. He often gets confused for shy or cold because of this, when he will just not do silly things in front of the camera if he’s not sure of the result. His terrible art? He knows it’s terrible and that’s acceptable. His amazing dancing? He knows it’s amazing and that’s acceptable. Things he’s not sure about which include being vulnerable in front of strangers? NOT ACCEPTABLE. I respect that. So this “primer” will not perpetuate any “mean-ho” ideas thank you bye. (Felix calls him tsundere so if you see me use it, it’s not my fault.)

Anyway Minho is a dancer. That was his job before he joined SKZ (he toured with bts etc) and it was his primary role in SKZ for a while. When he first joined he wasn’t a good singer or rapper, but he would have been ok if he wasn’t constantly shaking because he was convinced he’d get kicked out. Which is valid because he did get kicked out.

oh also - I will treat his and Felix’s story as if the elimination wasn’t a setup just because whatever else was going on, they thought it was real.

His singing voice wasn’t great so he was asked to rap instead. He had never done it but said he’d be willing to try. They were given... what? No time? To prepare for that change and famously, Changbin rapped backup for him and Han held his hand and timed the beat with it.

so i cried, and then he did get eliminated because he messed up the lyrics next time so i cried more and then he sent a final message and i FUCKING BAWLED.

To Han: “The time I failed, was it because you weren’t holding my hand?”

Changbin helped him a lot during practice for the second song and they both felt so bad for different reasons. Minho kept saying he was sorry that someone younger than him had to be helping him and that he was failing despite it. “If I had slept one hour less, would I have been able to do it better?” and Changbin with “What did I do for him, that I couldn’t teach him better?” Anyway this show was torture but I’m gonna go back to the good stuff now.

Minho got to come back and they were a band happily ever after. Before the elimination tho he helped the other members with their dance routines. So, shit i learned about kpop peripherally: most bands are made by formula like “2 members rap, 2 members dance, 2 members sing” or something like that. Minho could dance and Changbin could rap and Seungmin could sing and the goal is rarely to get everyone to be great at everything. And Minho was like “nah.” And he made it his goal to make everyone as good a dancer as possible. So while others were helping him with singing and rapping, he was helping them with dancing.

For me a very important scene in the show was when Bang Chan kinda lost it at IN’s lack of ability to dance and he had everyone stand aside and kept telling IN to try again and Minho gave Bang Chan side-eye and went over to IN to teach him how to do it better.

baby bread’s defeated baby face :(

and Minho’s face just saying “you’re not helping” as he walked over in clear defiance of any hierarchy.

So Minho’s whole approach to the group was “I will help everyone be better at dancing”. According to Chan he picked Minho with the idea that Minho would be in charge of dancing. Which is a big fucking deal. For Bang Chan personally and band as a whole.

Changbin asking this question, who else. Chan was like “that phrasing doe?” But eventually:

(Changbin is listening but also not giving a shit, he’s just waiting for Chan to be done so he can ask what his role is and be told he’s the visual, Minho feeds him so fucking well.)

In group dances Minho tends to not stick out. In fact, Minho would really like it if no one stuck out. His goal is to have them all as synchronized as possible and he’s really good at it.

His solos fucking murder us every time tho :(

m... where was i.

Oh yeah. He’s very good at his job. He has also gotten SO MUCH better at singing. I don’t think he gets enough credit for how fucking hard he must have worked on that on top of everything else they do. I know the color of his voice doesn’t pop out like Seungmin or IN’s, but he can hold his own now. (His parts in Slump and Neverending story for example. Slump in particular because apparently Han wrote that whole ass song to fit HIS high notes and everyone just went “I guess” and then Han said “but I’ll only rap in it”.)

But enough about how much I respect him as an artist. Let’s talk about how if he is your favorite in the band, there’s a 99% chance your kink is being spit on followed by a good aftercare. Look I don’t make the rules. Just accept it like Hyunjin has.

Did he tickle him after that? Who knows. Not Hyunjin.

but he feeds him well so it’s all good.

In fact, other than making everyone dance well, Minho’s second mission in life is to make sure everyone is well fed. (He is definitely that grandmother who will tell you you’ve gained weight and then get upset when you don’t eat everything she made for you.)

Life is too short for a full compilation of Minho feeding people so here’s a little vid and a few pics.

How is this post still fucking going? How do I have so many thoughts on this one man wtf? Anyway just a quick note about his ex husband.

Back in the olden days Minho made lunch and wrote a lovely thank you letter to Seungmin and things were great. Now they jokingly call each other the divorced couple and even though they are roommates they both claim they can’t be roommates. I have a theory that could be way off but I will type it up here anyway. My theory hearkens back to the first paragraph which is that Minho doesn’t like doing things in front of the camera when he’s not sure how it’s gonna end up. And I think Seungmin for his own reasons isn’t very expressive either. And maybe sometimes on camera he didn’t react like Minho needed him to. And it ended in Minho adjusting his on camera attitude. Again, I could be way off, but the way I see it, there is safety in teasing. The same way he’ll show off his giraffe picture and be like “isn’t it beautiful” when he clearly has functional eyes, he can show his friendship with Seungmin and say “lol isn’t it horrible” and he gets the expected feedback and it’s fine. It’s better than being seen as overly needy or reaching out and not getting what you want. And tbh I think he and Seungmin pingpong this at each other and this is why every tsundere needs a Felix or Han to hug them despite the shit that’s coming out of their mouth.

But Seungmin can still recognize him by his tiddies so clearly they’re fine off camera.

As far as fan stuff goes, Minho has a regular live where he eats delicious food and talks to fans. Sometimes fans are really shitty and he plays it off but he is human and y’all need to get your shit together. But since all his fans are subs it all works out in the end. (Go on, tell me he’s your bias and you’re not a sub, I won’t believe you.)

I’m going to end this now and sneak edit when I remember other shit like I just did with BC.

Oh PS: I am not getting into Minho and Han now. Maybe ... MAYBE by the time I’m on Jisung’s profile I’ll be emotionally ready for that.

Wait did I do a whole fucking primer on Minho without mentioning his cats? Shit I’m gonna get arrested. He has 3 cats, adopted or found. He also does a shitload of charity stuff, a lot of it animal related. Ok ok ok there.

Bang Chan - Minho - Changbin - Hyunjin - Han - Felix and Felix2 - Seungmin - Jeongin

5 notes · View notes

wooowthanks · 4 years

Text

An open letter about my time at Grace Youth Klang.

I first joined when I was 13. It felt like I didn’t fit in - I was too old for GCC, too young to truly understand the youth. I flitted around, unsteady, slowly learning, slowly observing. But I thrived, eventually, even though I remained the “quiet” one there. I was forced into a zone far from my comfort. I learnt about media, taking photos and videos while not knowing what the butt an ISO was. I helped in events, in fundraising, in leading teams in camp even though I was definitely NOT a people person. I won, three years in a row (still a braggable achievement). I lead the worship team (tried), working my way up from being a backup singer. I learnt how to harmonise. I became a “leader”.

I’ve noticed - so many people, so many adults, see the easier parts. They see us hanging around at the foyer, laughing too loudly while collecting forms. They see us always at church, playing games, never leaving Taman Chi Liung restaurant. They see us taking an Instagram story of Kevin and Teo playing around, of us lying down on the somewhat clean 2nd Hall floors.

But what they focus on is this - us speaking up when we disagree with something. Our tendency towards “defying authority”. Our “laziness” when we can’t commit to yet another thing, yet another event. Our lack of cooperation. Our inability towards working with whatever person they put to lead us. Our inability to submit to authority. Our inability to bow down, and accept things for what it is.

What they don’t see, what they didn’t see - we were still just kids. We were leaders yes, but we were still youths who didn’t have a pastor to guide them. They didn’t see that we were still young people, trying to make it better for the younger ones, figuring out the unknown slowly. They didn’t see the time we so carefully carved out, from piles of university assignments to come to church for practice. They didn’t see the Sunday lunches we take so late to collect forms, and the times we leave our late lunches to collect more from those who couldn’t do it earlier. They didn’t see the personal problems we had- the burnout of giving and not receiving, the family problems, the friendships lost, the emotional turmoil. They didn’t see the numerous night long meetings held to discuss ways to improve the youth, ways to be better, to foster the spirit of excellence in everything we do. They didn’t see the times we unfailingly attended our prayer meetings and cell groups on Fridays after hours long of standing in the KTM, or the month long trainings or camp meetings we had every Saturday morning. They didn’t see the WhatsApp messages that the leaders sent to keep up with the youth, they didn’t see how those texts grew into friendships that were/ are treasured. They didn’t see that we didn’t have the time for ourselves, because we so willingly invested it in the youth.

...how could they say that we were cliquish, when all we had were one another?

Being a leader wasn’t great, but it was good, sometimes. I truly treasure all that happened in my years serving. I learnt to get a thick skin, because people are going to tell you that your work isn’t good enough and that you aren’t cut out for it, even though you’ve already given years. Because after serving non stop and feeing burnt out... maybe I just “wasn’t made for serving”, right?. I’ve gotten the chance to meet so many types of people - from the ones who will preach about knowing every single name and yet never refer you by your name despite asking for it 3 times, to the friends who will cry with you in the KTM, ready with a hug, when empty cans start to make noise. I’ve gotten to learn about myself, to work my way towards the career I will ultimately choose, I’ve gotten my first hand experience on handling clients civilly, when someone wanted the youth logo to be rainbow coloured. I’ve learned to stand up for myself, to stand up for others, to ask questions always, because it’s the right thing to do. You build each other up, you correct one another. You do not keep quiet when you know something is wrong.

Being a “leader” isn’t a cool title to bear, nor does it mean the cool custom shirts that we made and paid for ourselves at the start for use in formal events. It means sweeping the 2nd Hall floor, stacking up the chairs, early mornings and late nights for preparations, meetings with mistakes thrown at you, trainings that you sacrifice weekends for, agendas you disagree with being pushed at you. It means doing the things that people don’t see you doing, and getting called lazy, anyway.

I’m not going to say that I’ll forget the bad times here. I’ll remember the terrible politics in a place that’s supposed to be used to glorify god, I’ll remember the adults that smile at you and gossip behind your back, I’ll remember the manipulation, the lies, the misuse of “God told me to do it” or “God spoke to me” to justify a decision that is so clearly not thought through. I’ll remember the hypocrites who’ve showed everyone just how holy they are, and how they can never do wrong. I’ll remember the people who “cared” about the youth so much that they spread around about how the leaders just stayed because they cared for their positions.

When I attended SIB that one rare time, I remember someone sharing about a youth saying this to a pastor, “thank you for letting us make mistakes”. Maybe that’s what’s lacking all this while - the ability to make mistakes and to grow from them without fear. We’ve made our mistakes, yes, but each one has turned to a weight that constantly adds unto our shoulders, a fault to add unto a long list of how we always fall short.

We’ve made our mistakes, but so has some of those in authority. But instead of giving the same treatment we’ve received, we’re expected to submit to authority, unfailingly, unquestionably. But well... we’re not the first to leave, and we’re not even the second. And in all of this - we weren’t the common denominator.

Honestly, I could go on and on. About their faults, about my hurt, about my own faults. But from all of that, apart from the lessons I’ve learnt, what I’ll want to remember is this: the time Aaron Koh spilled coffee into Dillen’s nose when we all lied down in the main hall, tired from setting up for Starry Night. The time we found puppies in the drain and washed the stink out of them and got them adopted. Making wire tags for Hydrowar in the second hall. Our voices cracking when we can’t reach a note. Early first day of camp mornings and the rush to get campers settled. The late nights in camp, eating our dinners when the campers ate their suppers. Prepping for GA gifts and camp junk food with Cheryl. Building the whole stage deco wrongly twice and then building it up again only to realise that it’s upside down. Playing “bang” or uno in the multipurpose room. Soaking sessions with the committee, just one guitar, maybe one piano, and a whole bunch of young adults crying for more. BR with David, JRR and Aaron. Honey chicken rice at Taman Chi Liung, and peanut butter milkshakes at Pink Dugong after. The tired, bittersweet feeling after camps, putting the stuff back from the vans and lorries. Lying on the wheelchair ramp, too tired to move after camp at Ipoh. Ranting with Aaron Shawn. Khishan’s horrible watermelon gummies, and him making the church yeet. Josh Tan laughing so hard that he snorted maggi out his nose. Prepping for Sunday group sharing/ devo with Sam Swee at McDs. Chermaine and Cheryl teaching me how to harmonise. And so many other more that I can’t name, because that would take ages.

I left grace youth after I turned 21. I’ve lost my faith, and I’ve tried (am trying?) to rebuild it. I’ve lost some friends, and got people who now mean so much more. I’ve learnt that there’s a time to fight, and that there’s a time when fighting will never be enough. And I know I’ve left the youth earlier on, in January, and now Grace itself, but it feels apt to leave a grammar mistake ridden, ranty post about my time in youth because it’s where I’ve grown so immensely. I will miss it, but it’s time to be at places we will grow.

3 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 5 years

Text

You’ll Always Have Me

Summary: Alyssa and Ashton have been best friends ever since Alyssa moved in across the street the summer before second grade. Together, they were tackling the stereotype that boys and girls can’t just be friends. That is, until they almost kissed right before their junior year of high school. Can their friendship survive the jealousy that stems from their newfound feelings? And what happens when they realize these “newfound feelings” really aren’t all that new?

And away, and away we go!

Chapter 5

~Ashton

March 2018~

I looked in the stands, searching for her. She was easy enough to spot her hat with the school logo throw on haphazardly and backwards- a staple of her effortless style that left me feeling out of breath- and her giant “Go Ash!” poster she always brought when she watched me play. She had been to every one of my games since we became friends nearly 10 years ago. Every year she carefully crafted a new poster, the “Y” fading out when I had deemed “Ashy” too childish.

“Aly!” I shouted, waving my hands over my head.

Her head turned towards the sound of my voice, a grin spreading across her face. Then, her entire body slammed into mine, giving me her famous rib crushing hug.

“Awesome game, Ash!” she told me, her usual response after any game, win or lose.

“Thanks,” I wheezed. “Now loosen up will ya?”

She immediately let go and took two steps back. “Sorry. Did Kayla come?”

I shook my head at the mention my girlfriend. The girlfriend I had just recently gotten with because if I spent another day watching Aly flirt with boys that weren't me, I was gonna lose my damn mind. Stupid almost kiss, I thought as I cursed my existence for at least the millionth time since July. “No, but I’m taking her out later,” I finally said.

“Oh…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Aly…” I pressed. If things had been weird since summer, it was nothing compared to the weirdness of the past few weeks since I started dating Kayla. I’d been friends with Aly long enough to understand the female subtleties, and it was always fake smiles and fake laughs between those two. Which begged the question, was Aly jealous of Kayla, and if so, why? She had been the one who said no.

“It’s nothing. Honest. Kayla’s great.”

“Whatever. Don’t you have plans with Hood anyway?” We had an unspoken rule that we were always partners for anything in the classes we shared, and I was still bitter she had said yes to being his lab partner. Well, I was more bitter about how she had said yes: her giggle too high-pitched, her smile too wide.

“Aw, jealous?” she teased. Then, more seriously, “I don’t. Cal’s… well, he’s okay. But we’re not dating or anything.”

I suppressed an eye roll at the nickname. Cal? She was calling him “Cal”? Ugh… “You looked pretty cozy in Anatomy last week,” I pointed out, taking comfort by her assurance that they weren’t dating, because yes, I was jealous as all hell. Obviously.

“Ah, yes. Fluorescent lights and a dead frog. The makings of any good romance, truly.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, dude. You’re so dense.”

I rolled my eyes back at her. “He likes you, though. Which is a pretty big deal considering,” my voice trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air between us.

“Yeah, he’s popular, and he’s interested in a dweeb like me. Good for him. Oh! Text Lu and Si. We haven’t had a decent band practice in a while.”

“Shit, yeah! Your place, half an hour?”

“Race ya!” she grinned before dashing off.

A half hour later, after I found my parents and went home to change, I crossed the street to Aly’s garage, where she was already playing her guitar. “Hey,” she shouted, “Lu and Si are on their way.”

“Cool,” I replied, sitting behind the drum kit and grabbing the drumsticks. I listened to what she was playing before joining in. Luke and Sierra were our singers, but Aly and I had fun trying to sing both their lyrics and our own backup vocals. By the time we finished the song, Luke and Sierra had shown up.

We had worked through our small set of cover songs when Aly’s brother came through the garage, immediately covering his ears. “I missed the peace and quiet!” he sneered.

“You only miss it because our awesomeness reminds you you’re an untalented fuck bucket,” she taunted back in traditional Clifford sibling style.

He flipped her off before he got in his truck and drove off.

Mike’s entrance and following exit caused a pause long enough for me to feel my phone ringing in my pocket. “Quick break,” I called out, digging my phone out of my pocket and answering it. “Hey, babe!”

“Ashton! I’ve been texting you like crazy! Where are you?”

I pulled my phone away to check it. 20 text messages. Oops. “Sorry, babe. I’m at Aly’s.”

“Oh.” It was the same “Oh,” Aly had used when I mentioned going out with Kayla earlier. Girls...

“Sorry,” I said again, not sure what else to say. “You could come over if you want.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll be right over.”

“Cool, see you in a bit.” I ended the call and put my phone back in my pocket.

“I’m gonna get us some water,” Aly said, quickly sliding her guitar strap over her head and setting it aside, before heading for the door.

“I’m gonna help,” Sierra said, following Aly inside.

With the girls gone, Luke turned to me. “Dude…”

“What?”

“You’re still dating Kayla?”

“Yeah…?”

“I thought you like Lyssa?

“I do.”

“So, why are you dating Kayla?!”

“Aly doesn’t like me that way. We’re just friends.”

“How do you know she doesn’t like you that way if you don’t ask her out? Have you guys talked about… y’know?”

I had told him about the almost kiss right after it didn’t happen, along with confessing my feelings for Aly. “No…”

“So, why not talk about it and see what happens?”

“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take, okay? I barely realized I liked her that way until this summer. What do I do? ‘Hey, I know we’ve been friends forever, but I didn’t realize you’d get hot, wanna go out sometime?’”

“True… But, wouldn’t you rather her get with someone who was her friend before puberty hit her like a semi over someone who only likes her because of how she looks now?”

“I don’t want anyone with her. That includes me. Aly and I have been through a lot, but this… this is different. If I’m gonna ruin relationships with girls I have crushes on, I’d rather that girl not be Aly.”

“So, you want to grow up first?”

“I guess. I dunno. It doesn’t matter anyway. Aly probably doesn’t see me that way, and I’m with Kay. Case closed.”

“Whatever you say, man.”

#you'll always have me #chapter 5 #ashton irwin #5SOS #galcal irwin

6 notes · View notes

overthere-in-neverland · 5 years

Text

Hey i was wondering if you could do one where the readers band is on tour with all time low and at night she sings herself to sleep and jack listens to her and starts developing a crush on her? You can change it up a bit so it doesn’t suck but thanks :)

AN Hey guys! Sorry it’s been three years since I’ve posted lmao. I think I’m slowly coming back to these. For one thing I’m at my job, and I work graveyard so I’m bored as hell. For another, I really miss creative writing. I’ll update you on my life if you want next time I visit this, but other than that, hello! I won’t be updating the halloween imagines for the time being, especially since I’m trying to come back to this. I know I had one (1) request to update the side blog fanfics I had going on, but as for now, I’m going to try to do it one at a time. @ my motivation? Where r u (and im so sorry i cannot sleep i cannot dream tonighttttt) Anyways! Also I just realized that it was Creeper who were atl’s opening band on the european mainland tour for lyr and now im emo all over again. The text conversation is in the story already, I just felt the need to make it for you lol

Your POV

I knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. Our manager knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. My bandmates knew we were going on tour with All Time Low. We all were well aware, and now the fans were too. But holy shit, is it surreal. Starting from nothing, playing a max of ten people, then going to 1,000 cap rooms, oh my god is it fucking incredible. Not to mention All Time Low have been my heroes for as long as I can remember.

I’m in a pop punk band, and I play the bass. I’m not quite a singer, but I can do back up. I have three other bandmates. One sings, her name is Maria, one plays guitar, that’s Drew. And we have Allison on drums. Altogether we’re pretty badass.

I had heard in the industry that Jack was a bit of a flirt. Having Drew in our band, we didn’t think much of it. Granted, Maria was engaged, and Allison’s gay, so it’s not like either of them were available. But I knew of Jack’s wiles, so I knew to stay on my toes. We were touring in Europe around the mainland for Last young Renegade, All Time Low’s new album, and it was my band’s first time being in Europe, so we were stoked. We were up at like 8 am, exploring around the city. Though trying to fall asleep is critical, especially jet-lagged. I don’t know about most things, but what I do know is anytime I go anywhere, even if it’s in the same time zone, I’m always jet-lagged. Maybe I’m just always tired?

So we arrived in Copenhagen, Denmark, the first stop on our European tour, and we meet the guys at their bus, and I’m a little star struck. Alex Gaskarth and his iconic hair. I’m not saying I’m in the fandom, but Alex’s brown hair is nothing short of iconic. Especially when it’s longer. Huge throwback to Timebomb era, and hooo boy. That was an era to be alive. Alex was wiping down the table in his bus, muttering about these “good for nothing men, who can’t even pick up after themselves.” Jack is behind him opening the fridge, then opening the cupboards, then opening the fridge, then opening the pantry, I smiled a bit at that. Zack and Rian weren’t anywhere to be found, at least from what I could see, staring down the bus’s hallway. We were to be dragging behind them in our small little van pulling a trailer. Drew coughed, and Alex looked up. “Guys!” he smiled, throwing away his wipe. “You’re here!”

Jack looked over from his rampant searching of food and smiled at us as well. I felt my face grow hot, but tried to brush it off like I was alright. I kicked my other food and looked down at the ground to try and forget I existed for a bit. I noticed Maria smiling at me, probably knowing exactly what was going on. She knew that Jack has always been a celebrity crush of mine since 2008. “What’s up,” he said to us, nodding in our direction.

“We’re in GutterPunk,” Drew responded, usually taking initiative. “Nice to meet you guys. We’ll be on tour with you throughout the mainland.”

“Sweet!” Alex smiled, and came over to us, probably intending to shake our hands. “What’ll you be riding around?”

“We kind of don’t really know yet? We have to go pick up the rental van and trailer soon. We just wanted to meet you guys.”

“Well I’m Alex,” he said gesturing to himself. “And that fiend over there is Jack.” Jack paused from his cupboard raid and waved, then went back to it. “Hope to enjoy your guys’ music and energy out there.”

“Stoked, dude.” Drew shook his hand, and turned to walk away, out of the bus. We were all standing in his way. So he had nowhere to go.

“I’ve been a fan since middle school!” Allison told him, also shaking his hand. “Y/N and I have always dreamed of touring with you guys. It’s been a dream, really. You’re a huge inspiration! At least half of it. Tre Cool has always been my biggest, but don’t sweat it. He’s a fucking god on drums.”

“Here here!” came a voice in the back.

“That’s Rian,” Alex chuckled. “He always makes himself known at any mention of Green Day.”

I thought I had seen Jack peak over at us when Allison mentioned my name, but then again, it was all happening so fast, I didn’t have any idea as to what was going on. I tucked my hair behind my ears and introduced myself to Alex. We talked a bit before we had to go to the rental agency and get our modes of transportation. It was to be about a month in the van with these guys, tightly packed. Thank god we weren’t a ska band.

After a couple days on tour in Europe, I was getting my bearings. I started to get a feel of how it would be like throughout the month. It was a show every night for a couple days, then we’d have one or two days off. Our van broke down the fifth day, and we were ready to call it quits, me being on the verge of tears, and Allison kicking the wheel of our shitty van rental. Alex graciously offered to let us stay in their bus, but we all refused, trying desperately to figure out another way to travel. He insisted.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Maria asked him as we gathered our stuff in their bus

“Oh, it’s fine!” Alex waved us off. “You’ll just stay with us. It’s not fair that we get this huge ass bus for four of us and you guys all have to share that tiny van. Make sure you get your money back though, because that’s bullshit. Jesus Christ, man. I told Fueled that we should’ve just shared a tour bus but they’re all about ‘separating bands’ or whatever. Why we ever signed to this record label I’ll never know.”

“It was your idea,” Zack chimed in. We all laughed. “Well it was! After going to Hopeless, twice, Alex wanted to branch out. Which we all agreed to anyway. It was funny though, because he complained about it every chance he got.”

“I’m well aware of that. But Fueled by Ramen seems to forget that we were once small too! Power to the little people!”

We all laughed again and gathered in their bus to prepare for the next night which was to be a day off. I was nervous, because this meant that Jack would be just down the hall, if you can even call it that, from me. It reached 1 am that night after the show, and we had all gathered in our beds to try and sleep so we could get out and do fun things around France.

I always used to sing myself to sleep to calm my nerves, and after about an hour of tossing and turning, it seemed like that was my only option if I wanted to sleep. I started off by humming softly, in case I would wake anyone up. After about ten minutes of that, and no sounds of stirs happened, I sang quietly. First was Lullabies, which is my go to song to sing when I need to sleep. Something about the line “Sing me to sleep, I’ll see you in my dreams” makes me feel at peace. After I finished with that, I heard the quiet patter of feet. I stopped for a bit, to wait to see if it came again, and when it didn’t I started again. Snuff by Slipknot is another one that calms me down, and I sang that, but right at the bridge I heard the patter again. I drew back the curtain, and saw Jack standing there. He looked scared to see me notice him, and promptly turned back towards his bed, and didn’t look back at me.

I frowned but pulled the covers up. I guess he doesn’t actually want to get to know me. I closed my eyes to try for the.. Was it the fourth time? Third time? I lost count. But I tried once more to sleep. Then I heard the pang next to me of a text message.

I promise I wasn’t trying to listen to you sing.

It was from Jack. We had all exchanged numbers at the beginning of the tour. My thumbs danced over my screen as I thought of what to say.

Don’t worry about it

I just heard it and then i couldn’t stop

It’s fine, jack. Really

Your voice is really pretty tho Can we talk tomorrow? I have something I need to tell you

What could he possibly need to tell me? I was freaking out. And now I can’t sleep even more. Fuck. This was going to be a long night.

I mean I’m awake right now

I can’t really say it right now

Well, what the fuck does that mean? I sigh and then turn around and face the wall. The bus was moving, but I felt like my stomach was moving ten thousand times faster. Him talking to me like this is the first real conversation he’s had with me. Most of the time he avoids me. Whatever it is, I guess I can wait. I prepared for a long sleepless night after that.

When I woke up, everyone was bustling about, getting ready for the day off. “Jack! Y/N!” Rian called down to us. I guess neither of us had gotten up. “We’re going out to breakfast!”

I moaned in recognition, and heard nothing from Jack, so I assumed he had gone with them. I threw my covers off and went straight to the bathroom. When I got out, I saw a tall lanky man with bed head staring at me.

“Uh. Hello.” I said stupidly.

“Hey, uh. About last night.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to say anything. I get it. I’m a backup singer for a reason.”

“No that’s not it! Um.” He stopped talking to look down at his feet. “Look. I know this is weird. Especially since I hardly know you. But, I’ve actually been following your band for a while. And dude, you’re like insanely hot. And then I find out you’re a good person too? Last night, hearing your singing it made me realize.. Fuck, this is so stupid. It made me realize I’m in love with you.” With the last uttering of those words, he looked up at me. “Sorry.”

“Are you fucking serious?” I raised my eyebrows, completely awestruck. Jack Barakat, the celebrity crush of my teen years was telling me he was in love with me? When it looked like he in fact, was not kidding, I immediately blushed and looked away. “Dude. I’ve been in love with you since I was like 14.”

A smile lit up his face as he started talking really fast, rambling. “Oh my god! Really? Holy shit okay, so like we can go get breakfast with the others, or we can go get breakfast by ourselves, we could walk down the Seine, we are in France after all. Holy fu-”

I started laughing, but grabbed his hand with mine, since he was waving it all around. “Slow down there, I can barely keep up. Let’s go get breakfast first, and talk this out. You’ve basically been avoiding me since I got here.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t really know how to strike up a conversation.”

I chuckled. “This is weird, huh?”

“So weird.” He nodded in agreement. I realized I was still holding his hand, but I didn’t let go. Instead we walked off the bus, headed towards the cafe for breakfast. My heart was in my throat but this felt right. After the initial break of the ice, he wouldn’t shut up, but I loved hearing his voice. He could talk for hours on end if he really wanted to.

#jack barakat #jack barakat imagine #jack barakat fanfiction #all time low #all time low fanfiction #all time low imagine #band imagines

33 notes · View notes

themcloughlins · 5 years

Text

Chapter 4

It had been almost a week since the two had last seen each other. They had both been sending each other text messages back and forth, talking about when they could both see each other again.

With Miranda being on tour, she didn’t have a ton of free time to fly out to NYC so Brendan planned to come out to Nashville and surprise her at her show.

Brendan hoped on the next flight available after calling off work for a couple of days. He had about an hour flight into BNA from LGA and made up the excuse to Miranda that he had an overtime shift and his text replies would be late.

Miranda was busy sound-checking for a festival she was playing that night. She wrapped up after a half-hour and went back to her bus to grab a drink before she had to leave for meet and greets.

Miranda sat with her backup singer and one of her best friends, Gwen and chatted about the show and what to expect.

Brendan got off his flight and called for an uber. He eventually got one and told the driver to head to the venue.

Once he arrived at the venue he searched around for Tom as he was the only one he had met who knew Miranda. He eventually found him outside of the buses. “Hey, Tom!” He said quietly as he didn’t know where the blonde was. “Miranda in there? She has no idea I’m here.”

Tom nodded and gave him the ok to go knock on the door after giving him a backstage pass so no one had questioned him.

Brendan pulled out his phone and sent Miranda a text. “Hey cutie, I sent you a surprise, it’s outside your bus door now.”

Miranda read the text, confused. She walked over to the door and opened it. “What the heck are you doing here?” She stepped down the steps and walked over to him, giving him a hug.

Brendan smiled. “I wanted to come to see what you did for a living.”

Miranda grinned. “Awesome! Come join me and my friend for a pre-ritual drink!” She opened the bus door.

Brendan nodded and walked in behind her. “Gwen, this is Brendan, the guy I met on GMA last week.” The two shook hands and they all had a drink before Miranda had to leave for meet and greets.

Brendan hung out with and got to know the rest of her band members.

Soon enough it was Miranda’s time to hit the stage. She walked on and sang her opening song.

Brendan couldn’t wipe the smile off his face during her entire set. He was really into her music and how well of a show she put on.

Miranda got off stage after an hour and a half set. She was tipsy but still capable of walking and speaking fine. “How’d you like the show?”She grinned.

Brendan clapped. “You’re outstanding! I might just have to come and see a second one now.” He chuckled and she smiled.

“Where are you staying tonight?” She asked him.

“I actually have no clue, I didn’t book a hotel.” He laughed.

“Why don’t you crash on my bus, come to tomorrows show while you’re at it?” She suggested. She also didn’t want the tall, dark, and handsome man to leave.

“Are you sure?” His eyebrows raised slightly and she nodded.

The two headed back to her bus. She stopped just before the door and turned to Brendan. “I just wanted to thank you, for coming out and surprising me at my show tonight. It was honestly very sweet of you.” She smiled at him.

“It’s my pleasure, you sure put on a good show, plus I’ve been kind of wanting to do something since I last saw you.” He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers.

The two found themselves in a trance of love and had a night of private intimacy.

#Miranda Lambert #Miranda McLoughlin #Brendan McLoughlin #Ranfan #fanfic

10 notes · View notes

jade4813 · 5 years

Text

A Lie, Told Often Enough, Chapter 5

Author Notes: Inspired by @fallinginloveinaflash‘s AU prompt. All credit for the idea goes entirely to her.

Title: A Lie, Told Often Enough

Rating: NC-17

Synopsis: Iris just landed her dream job at a PR firm and her first assignment is reforming the bad boy image of celebrity artist Barry Allen. He’s overly cocky and well-known for being a playboy, but Iris has never met a challenge she couldn’t handle.

Chapters: 5/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Iris said on a breathless laugh as Barry twirled her around. They were surrounded by other couples on the dance floor, but he only had eyes for her as he pulled her in close. “This wasn’t the plan at all.”

“But do you mind?” he asked, stroking his fingertips along the curve of her spine. His smile was wide – and just a little bit wicked.

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t mind.”

Bowing his head, he brushed a soft kiss along the curve of her neck, the warm caress of his breath making her shiver. She felt his tongue caress the curve of her ear, and she had to stifle a moan as she pressed her body against his. Hooking one leg over his hip, she felt his hand slide along its curve before he lifted her hard against him. She could feel his erection through their clothes, and she rocked against him, smiling when she heard him catch his breath.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he breathed, trailing a line of kisses along her jaw. His free hand cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing a small pattern against her skin. Then he sucked her lower lip between his teeth, swallowing her gasp with his kiss.

“Don’t stop,” she moaned, tracing the line of his lower lip with her tongue. “God, Barry...”

Iris was awoken from her dream by the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned as the memory of Barry’s hands against her skin slipped away. Then blinked the sleep out of her eyes, looked at her phone screen, and groaned again. She’d know who it would be even before she saw the name, but that didn’t keep her from wincing. With a sigh, she pushed the last threads of her dream aside – and chose not to think too hard about the direction it had been taking. Or its subject. Hitting the button to answer, she injected false cheer into her voice. “Mason! I can explain!”

“I certainly hope so,” he replied, not trying to hide his irritation. “Because I expected to find pictures of Barry Allen and Patty Spivot all over the web this morning. So imagine my surprise when I tired on the computer to find photos of you instead.”

Fighting a grimace, Iris explained everything that had happened the night before, ending with, “He went with the first name that came to mind. Mine. If I backed out after that, it would have done more harm to his image than going along with it.”

“Which is why, if you want to work in this business very long, you should know to always have a backup plan,” he chided her. “You should never have let yourself be put in that position.”

She sighed. “I understand. But I –”

“I’m not sure you do understand, Iris. I have a company to run and an image to protect. I��m in the business of managing other people’s images. Not setting up a dating service to the stars.”

“That’s unfair!” she protested.

“Yes. It is. But I have to live in reality, same as you. What happens when it becomes known that you work for my agency? There’s a reason we always stay in the background – why we drive the story but we never become the story. What happens when you take on your next client? What are they going to think about the headlines you’re making today?”

“I’m sure we can explain,” she offered weakly.

Mason sighed. “Iris, perception is everything. You should know that; we’re in the business of perception. Which reminds me. You’re going to have a lot of attention on you for a while. I think you should stay away from the office for a while.”

His tone caused a knot to form in her stomach. “Does this mean you’re firing me?”

Silence a little too long echoed down the phone line. Finally, he responded, “In this business, a mistake isn’t a mistake if it turns out to be a hit.”

Sucking her lower lip between her teeth, Iris nodded, even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “I-I understand,” she murmured softly. She’d received his message loud and clear. If posing as Barry’s girlfriend successfully rehabilitated Barry’s image, she’d keep her job. If it failed, on the other hand…

“Good. I’ll see you when this business with Barry Allen ends. One way or another.”

With a groan, Iris hung up the phone threw back the covers. There was no way she’d get back to sleep now.

Iris sucked in a deep breath and had to brace herself before she turned on the computer that morning. It was time to check what people were saying about her work – a task she wouldn’t have minded yesterday but was less eager to do today. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know what people were saying about Barry’s new relationship.

But it was part of her job, so she booted up the computer and started her search. The coverage was more or less what she’d expected. The photos were splashed across site after site, complete with the speculation she’d anticipated. Everyone wanted to know who Barry Allen’s new girlfriend was, but not everyone was convinced the relationship would last. Iris had anticipated that, as well.

Sucking in a deep breath, she turned to social media to check the buzz the stories were creating. She read the first few comments with relief.

“Who is she? She’s gorgeous!”

“She’s the girl he met in the coffee shop? Why couldn’t it have been me??? I drink coffee!!!! I want to be her sooooo bad. #Lucky #Jealous”

“Look at the way he’s looking at her. #Goals”

“She’s beautiful, but I’m not sure about the dress. I’d kill for those legs, though.”

“IS HE LICKING CHOCOLATE OFF HER RIGHT THERE? OH MY GOD, THAT IS SO HOT! HOW IS SHE NOT DEAD RIGHT NOW???”

But it didn’t take long to discover that not everyone was enthusiastic about the news.

“He’s dating HER? He could date anyone he wants, and he chooses a nobody? I’m not buying it.”

“I don’t think they’re dating. They just don’t look right together. I don’t know why. They just look like friends to me.”

“She looks like of like a bitch. She’s probably just after his money.”

“Fake. Why would he date her? She’s probably some new singer the studio’s trying to push. I’m betting we see a record drop by this “up and comer” in the next three months. Tops.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever heard me sing,” Iris muttered, closing the window. She paused just long enough to refill her coffee, then she grabbed her notebook on her way back to her desk. Since circumstances had changed, she was going to have to rethink her plan. On the plus side, that meant she didn’t need to worry about reworking Patty’s image anymore. She could focus solely on her assignment with Barry.

But if her job was on the line, she also wasn’t sure how much she wanted to – or could – draw things out. It was going to be a balancing act that required perfect timing. This pseudo relationship had to last long enough to sell Barry’s transformation, but it had to end before her credibility with potential future clients was shot.

With that in mind, it seemed like a good idea to dig deeper into his previous relationships – or his suspected relationships, at least. If she saw what had driven the speculation in the past, maybe she could use it to her advantage now.

A few hours later, Iris straightened in her chair, stretching the kinks out of her neck before she stood to answer the knock at the door. It almost wasn’t a surprise to find Barry on the other side. “Hey. You shouldn’t look surprised to see me,” he greeted her with a grin. “You asked me to come by today, after all.”

“Yeah, but I’m still not used to you listening to me,” she mumbled, following him into her living room. “And the fact you are immediately makes me suspicious, of course.”

Barry seemed unfazed by her skepticism. “You told me I should be attentive to my fake girlfriend. This is me, being attentive. Want to go for a walk?” She arched her eyebrows in question, prompting him to explain, “I hear it’s something couples do. And we are a couple, right? Well, kind of a couple, at least.”

Iris looked away, pondering her options. As much as she would have liked to find a way to do her job without furthering this PR relationship, she’d realized last night it simply wasn’t going to happen. Barry’s suggestion was smart. They’d gotten their names out there; plenty of sites had already started to publish speculation about them. It was good strategy to follow up the buzz by getting out and about today, being seen doing things that typical couples would do. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “Let me grab my shoes.”

As they headed outside, Barry grabbed her hand and said, “I also thought we should talk schedules in the next couple of days. I’m going to be doing some recording this week, but we’ll need to plan our second fake date.”

“Of course,” she agreed, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Still suspicious of my motives?” he asked with a grin.

She nodded, but she didn’t bother to hide her smile as she joked, “Of course. Getting you to wear Patty’s scarf was like pulling teeth, but now you’re playing the attentive boyfriend. I can’t help but wonder if you’re up to something.”

Barry sighed. His expression grave, he admitted, “I feel bad. About last night. This wasn’t your plan, and this charade is going to put you in the public eye. That kind of media scrutiny and speculation…I know what that’s like. I know how hard it can be. I wasn’t thinking when I said your name, and I never meant to do this to you.”

Iris grimaced. If only he knew that she had bigger problems than media speculation. Her entire career was on the line. But he couldn’t have known that. “It’s all right,” she reassured him. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah? How.”

She laughed. “I could be dating someone. For real, I mean. Talk about awkward.”

He was silent for a moment, and it gave her a chance to enjoy the weight of his hand in hers. Finally, though, he said, “Oh. Well. Um. Are you?”

Seeing the attention they were drawing by bystanders on the street, she scooted closer to Barry and threw him what she hoped would be interpreted as a loving look. They had meandered to a park in her neighborhood, and she led him to a small duck pond in the center. As they paused by the water, she answered, “No. I’m not dating anyone.”

“So it won’t be a problem if I kiss you?” She gasped at his question and turned to face him. He shrugged. “I just thought…we have an audience. We’re supposed to be dating. I know you’re wanting to get people talking about us. But if you’re not ready, or if it makes you uncomfortable… I mean, I guess we’ll need to kiss eventually if we want people to believe we’re dating. But it doesn’t have to be today if you –”

Iris felt her cheeks go hot as she remembered the kiss they’d shared in her dream. His hands upon her skin, the memory haunting her even after she’d awoken. Not that she’d ever tell him about it, of course, but now she was about to kiss him for real. Was she ready for that?

“It’s okay,” she whispered, drawing him closer to her. “I’m ready.” And with her hands fisted in his shirt, she pulled him in for their first kiss.

#a lie told often enough #my fanfiction #westallen #barry allen #iris west #rock star au #fanfiction

67 notes · View notes

star-going-supernova · 6 years

Text

Very much spoilery for Chapter 5, so read no further if you still haven’t finished the game. My Other!Bendy AU was an exercise in me finding out how much I like writing out AU ideas in not-story format, so here’s another one. It’s ‘canon’ with the loop, but I’ve put a much happier, more hopeful spin on things. Enjoy!

It only takes a dozen loops or so before Henry realizes what’s going on. He has to relive his journey through the depths of the studio, no matter how long it takes or how much he tries to change his fate. He’s trapped, always forced forward and down.

It only takes another time or two for him to realize that the other players in this game of Joey’s that they’ve all been forced into are catching on as well. Their scripts start to change, they hesitate and falter, and they are confused and lost and afraid.

Henry—whatever or whoever he might be—cares. He’s gotten to know the characters he used to draw, he’s become reacquainted with the toons his old friends became, he sees the way Bendy flinches at the sight of the The End tape. And he will not stand for it.

The next time he walks through the studio’s front door, he’s ready. He’s had a lot of time to think about what he can do to help, and while he hasn’t found a way to prevent the loop from happening—not that he’ll stop looking for one—he has an idea of how he can make the whole experience a little less of a nightmare.

One by one, he tells everyone he encounters what he knows. From the Searchers and Sammy to Alice and the Butcher gang to Allison, Tom, and the Lost Ones to Bendy himself, he explains his idea. By the time he faces Bendy in the throne room, the whole studio is on board.

When he steps into the studio after that—ever more aware of the situation with every passing loop—his arrival begins the game he’d come up with.

Dying, he’d realized long ago, didn’t hurt him. The ink didn’t faze him anymore, and he had no trouble returning to life time and time again. Even the sound of his own garbled voice echoing around him was easily ignored.

And since attempting to kill him was what most of the studio was forced into doing, why not make it fun?

It was a simple point system. If you managed to kill Henry, you got a point. There were bonus points for getting him twice in a row, or killing him without taking a hit yourself, or depending on if you did it solo or in teams.

Through each other and the ink, the tallying up of points would eventually be passed to Bendy, who would record them in the throne room. When Henry returned to play the The End tape, the game was officially over, and whoever had the most points won. Bendy would travel back up to the first floor where they kept score of the winners, leaving Henry to take a nap on the throne or admire the cartoons playing on the walls.

While the others initially had some reservations about casually murdering Henry for a game, once he reassured them that it really didn’t hurt or anything, they slowly got more and more into it.

One of the first few times, Henry managed to drag a sheet along with him to his final battle with Bendy, leaning into Bendy’s path when he charged him in the grid room like a matador teasing a bull. Bendy collapsed from wheezy laughter the first time he did it, and that was one of their longest ‘battles’ to date.

And from there, they all started pushing the boundaries of what the loop allowed them to do. Sitting outside the Little Miracle Stations, chatting while Henry got his breath back. Starting and stopping the elevator during the fall like a rollercoaster ride. Writing increasingly ridiculous messages on the wall in ink, and then once Henry started bringing the Viewing Tool through the loops, in invisible ink as well.

Henry once followed Bendy down a hallway with a cutout held in front of him. Bendy obliging acted as if he didn’t notice anything amiss.

Sammy challenged Henry to a music competition one day, playing with the mostly messed up instruments while Jack Fain warbled along next to them with a group of Searchers acting as the backup singers.

Norman occasionally shut the light on his projector head off and held still in some dark corner of the maze. Henry would protest vehemently when told he screamed like a little girl the first time the looming form of the Projectionist jumped out at him, but the whole studio knew it was true.

Bendy got into the occasional habit of interrupting other toons’ attempts at killing Henry, going so far as to physically fight Norman off a few times.

Once, and only once, someone kept moving the animatronic Bendy around while Henry worked on opening the haunted house. Every time he turned a corner, there it was, scaring the living daylights out of him. It was something no one ever confessed to, though it was widely appreciated as one of the few pranks that managed to actually get a reaction out of Henry, who’d gotten so used to being snuck up on and such.

There was one loop where no one killed Henry except Henry himself. It was the only time he’d ever won the game, and no one could stop teasing him about it, since the death was from eating every single can of bacon soup from the ground level to the throne room. He’d keeled over inside Allison and Tom’s hideout, and before that loop was even over, the whole studio knew that Henry’s hard work and dedication had payed off, making it worth it to everyone for holding back on their attacks against him. Bendy hadn’t even been able to do the final battle, helplessly curled up on the floor from laughter, waving at Henry to just go ahead and play the tape.

Most memorable was the time Henry came charging into the studio, whooping ecstatically with blood on his knuckles, hollering that he’d finally gained enough control of his body in Joey’s apartment to punch the man.

Every loop, without fail, Henry would add a tally mark to one of the walls on the first floor. He’d long since lost count, hundreds of little lines spanning across the wood. It wasn’t the happiest thing to look at, but there were a lot of good times and fun memories behind those tallies, memories that he wouldn’t give up for anything.

And then, one day, Bendy shoved him back after he’d turned on the Ink Machine, and the wretched, inescapable impulse to run away didn’t consume him. Instead, Henry laid there on the floor, ink streaming down the walls on either side of him, and stared up at the ceiling. He waited for the feeling to come, for his unchanging fate to pick up his limbs like a puppet on strings, but nothing happened.

“Henry?” Bendy asked, leaning over the board he’d popped up from behind.

“I don’t feel like running,” Henry said. “I mean. There’s nothing making me run.”

Bendy vanished briefly, a wall portal reappearing beside Henry for him to step out of. Crouching, Bendy poked his shoulder. Henry didn’t move.

They stared at each other.

“Do…” Bendy started slowly, hesitantly, “do you think the loop’s broken?”

Henry sat up. Still no urge. “Take me to Alice,” he finally said.

A new portal formed, and Bendy waved him into it.

Alice was in the middle of tea with Allison and Tom when they arrived. “What,” she said. Tom dropped his teacup. “That’s not…” Allison whispered.

“Possible?” Henry finished. “Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

They visited the whole studio in this manner, and each one expressed their shock just as plainly as the last. Eventually, though, the loop seemed to kick back in, and Henry was helpless to resist as he was forced away from his friends. Being on Level 9 at the time, the loop started from there, entirely skipping the whole section in the music department, and the part in Boris’s safehouse.

And so it went. With each consecutive loop, Henry went longer and longer without its influence. The day when he never felt it again was one they all looked forward to. Henry promised himself that when it finally arrived, he’d destroy the The End tape once and for all, hopefully preventing the loop from taking control ever again.

But until that day came, he had his patient friends, his increasing tally marks, his one win ever, and an ‘old friend’ that he still punched each and every time he passed through Joey’s apartment. And for someone who’d had nothing but his own two hands and a persistent concussion just a couple hundred loops ago, Henry was pretty happy with the way things were turning out.

Not all dreams come true? Maybe. But then, maybe this one just might.

#batim #batim chapter 5 #batim chapter 5 spoilers #batim henry #Loop AU #star's puzzle pieces #life and times of star

163 notes · View notes

themurphyzone · 5 years

Text

Lucky Thirteen Ch 3

Ch 3: Three’s a Crowd

Come to Alvizo’s Cafe on Haywood Street. My treat.

He sent the text, wondering if Dakota was even awake. He’d see the text soon enough, and the promise of brunch would be incredibly tantalizing for his food-obsessed mind.

The quickest way to Dakota’s heart was through his stomach after all. Cavendish paying for the meal was just the cherry on the sundae.

The downside was that he’d also have to pay for Doofenshmirtz’s meal too. There was no way around it. Dakota would get suspicious if he didn’t pay for Doofenshmirtz. And Cavendish couldn’t afford to be seen as anything less than a gracious host.

“That’s weird, the Tip-inator’s supposed to automatically calculate the tip based on your bill and generate the right amount. I have no idea why it’s spitting out enough coins to fill up a Swiss Bank.”

The floor was completely littered in dimes and quarters, and workers had to take it slow so they didn’t trip over the metallic piles. Many patrons were shooting dirty looks at Doofenshmirtz, though he didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Can’t you turn it off?” Cavendish asked.

Doofenshmirtz rolled his eyes. “And miss a chance to do good? Society doesn’t appreciate servers and vendors enough! I should know, I used to be a bratwurst street vendor. I would do my whole ‘I am a Superstar’ routine again if it meant getting this many tips.”

Cavendish’s phone buzzed.

Be there soon. Yum!

Dakota had tacked on a slew of food emojis at the end of his message. For some reason, Dakota insisted on using cups of tea and hamburgers in every text conversation.

“Moving on. Dakota will be here in just a few minutes. Remember, your job is to make things less awkward than they already are,” Cavendish said.

Doofenshmirtz threw up his hands. “Hey man, I’m a do-gooder, not a miracle worker. But look on the bright side you unjolly green giant, you don’t have to worry about your budget. If you don’t have enough, you can just scoop some coins off the floor to make up the rest of the bill.”

Cavendish wasn’t cruel enough to subject a poor worker to counting that many coins. Go figure that Doofenshmirtz managed to figure out a way to help an employee with finances while simultaneously diminishing their efficiency at work.

Cavendish patted his lapel, making absolutely sure the ring box was secured. He couldn’t afford to lose the rings again.

The clock’s hands ticked on.

Dakota still wasn’t here.

There weren’t any new messages either.

What’s the exact timeframe of ‘soon’ in this context? A few minutes, an hour, a day, or when the Earth ceases to exist?

Doofenshmirtz snapped his fingers in Cavendish’s face, bringing him back to the present. “Geez, did you eat something last night that turns you into a praying mantis? Cause I don’t want to be anywhere near you if you’re gonna adopt the whole behead your mate thing.”

Cavendish realized that he’d been involuntarily holding his arms in front of him, bent at an awkward downward angle. The praying mantis description was somewhat accurate. He shoved his hands into his pockets, slumping against the back of his chair.

He’d never been good at hiding that particular nervous tic.

“No, I am not adopting that bug’s appalling mating or dietary habits,” Cavendish muttered petulantly.

“That’s a relief. Just thought I’d warn you from personal experience, avoid all insects during your proposal. They tend to bug the intended fiance,” Doofenshmirtz said, grinning widely at his own pun. “You see what I did there? Bug as in insect bug?”

“Yes, you’re a pungeon master entirely worthy of an Emmy award,” Cavendish muttered. “So you’ve proposed before? What did you do?”

“Wrote a musical number and hired backup singers. Jazz is Charlene’s favorite genre. Had this whole nifty bit with the saxophone. She was impressed. Then a swarm of bees were attracted to the pots of honey we used as background props and stung almost everyone. Charlene managed to escape unscathed, but the backup singers had at least four stingers each and I had to go to the hospital because of allergies. Charlene managed to smooth everyone’s feathers out, cause the backup singers weren’t that happy with me afterward.”

Note to self: Try to avoid anaphylactic shock via bee stings during proposal. Easy enough to prevent: just don’t involve honeypots in any way, shape, or form.

“Then we got married, had Vanessa...remind me to show you pictures later, she’s always frowning in her baby pictures but she looks so adorable doing it...oh, and now we’re divorced.”

Cavendish thought he’d misheard that last sentence.

Doofenshmirtz coughed. “Now that I think about it, mentioning divorce probably isn’t soothing your nerves.”

Divorced. Please let me fall to Earth’s molten core so I don’t have to deal with this anymore.

Dakota arrived half an hour later. He munched on a chocolate donut, casually wading through the pile of coins that were now ankle-deep.

“What took you so long?” Cavendish griped once Dakota sat down.

“Donut place had free samples. Figured I’d grab one for the road,” Dakota replied, licking the chocolate off his fingers. “And I can’t say no to the breakfast burritos here.”

“Yes, heaven forbid that you refuse food,” Cavendish agreed.

“Yeah, he was all worried about being jilted,” Doofenshmirtz added. “Perry the Platypus did that to me from time to time. Like, I get the mysterious secret agent schtick, but at least tell me why you can’t thwart first.”

Cavendish scowled. “I wasn’t worried about being jilted! You’re completely misconstruing the situation!”

Realizing that people were staring, Cavendish quickly buried his head in the menu and pretended to read the pancake options. Since Cavendish was preoccupied with his embarrassment, Dakota was the one who signaled a waiter to come over and take their orders.

“Blueberry pancakes with tea,” Cavendish mumbled to the waiter, regretting that he couldn’t hang onto the menu to hide behind when he needed a moment to recuperate.

Rather predictably, Dakota ordered breakfast burritos.

Doofenshmirtz decided on eggs and bratwurst. He spent four minutes rambling about the superiority of bratwurst to hot dogs before the waiter got fed up and left for the kitchen.

“How’s Milo doing?” Dakota asked. “I’m trying to lay low for a while. I think his parents are trying to get me and Cavendish to pay for a new table since we used theirs to temporarily plug a deadly vortex.”

“He told me some of my bad luck came from not thinking things through,” Doofenshmirtz said. “I think he’s onto something.”

“Yeah, he’s a smart kid,” Dakota said.

“So if I just take enough time to think about my actions, I can avoid stuff blowing up in my face at a later point. Alright, so I ordered eggs and bratwurst, and that doesn’t come with dairy, so my body won’t react from lactose intolerance, the cafe gets $10.99 from my order alone, unless the coins build up enough to cause structural damage which they’d have to spend money to fix,” Doofenshmirtz mused. He quickly pressed a button on the Tip-inator, and the coin flow trickled to a halt. “Oh, that’s useful. I found a potential consequence and I figured out how to avert it. Thinking through stuff works!”

By now, everyone’s knees were buried underneath the coins. Parents had to carry their children out the door.

The waiter finally delivered their food, then rushed over to help a coworker who was stuck behind the counter.

Cavendish tried to focus on cutting his pancakes instead of how he had nothing to talk about. How did one broach the topic of engagement?

Thank you for not letting me stay dead. Will you marry me?

Yeah, that would go over well.

“You gonna say something or what?” Doofenshmirtz asked, poking Cavendish with his fork. “Cause you’re quieter than Mother whenever she gave me the silent treatment.”

Cavendish brushed the offending utensil away. “I was about to say how...nice the sun is today.”

Dakota pointed to the gray clouds that blanketed the sky. “It’s overcast.”

“Of course,” Cavendish quickly amended. “The clouds look nice today.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Dakota asked. His breakfast burrito threatened to dump its contents all over his pants.

“Dakota, keep that greasy thing over your plate,” Cavendish scolded.

Dakota sighed in relief. “Never mind, you’re fine.”

“Look, a nonspecific thing in the ceiling!” Doofenshmirtz shouted, pointing above Dakota’s head. When Dakota glanced at the ceiling, Doofenshmirtz snatched Cavendish’s arm and hauled him to the restroom.

Cavendish yanked his arm out of Doofenshmirtz’s grip. The doc was faster than he looked.

“What’s gotten into you?” Cavendish snapped.

Doofenshmirtz scowled. “That’s my line, mustachio. The sun is nice? The clouds are nice? I can’t believe you sunk low enough to start talking about the weather! That’s like, first date material! The kind that doesn’t lead to a second date!”

“I was nervous!”

“I was nervous when I proposed! And you know what? I just did the musical number anyway! Just pop the question already!”

“Why are you even here?”

“You told Brigitte and Martin that you wanted my help! Okay, Martin seemed oddly happy that I was out of the house but oh well. They filled me on the way over here,” Doofenshmirtz said.

“You’re the worst wingman in the history of wingmen,” Cavendish growled.

“I’m beginning to understand why Perry the Platypus always seemed more annoyed when he had to wingman my dates,” Doofenshmirtz sighed. “Still, I don’t think I was ever this hopeless.”

He has a point. This is hopeless.

Cavendish turned to the sink, splashing his face with water to clear his mind.

“What do I even say?” Cavendish muttered.

“Well, if you can’t do musical numbers or long, flowery speeches, there’s always the direct approach.”

Though he was fairly certain that Doofenshmirtz and direct were complete opposites, Cavendish decided to humor him. “What’s your idea for the direct approach?” he asked.

“Some punching, a little kicking...you know if you throw your hat like a projectile he’ll probably find it cool. And trapping! Trapping him in your clutches works too!”

“Never mind. I regret asking.”

“And the manager had to bring out this really tall stepladder! And he was afraid of heights so he asked our waiter, but he was afraid of bats. So they tried getting this other girl to do it but she was afraid of ladders,” Dakota said, continuing his play-by-play of the events that Cavendish and Doofenshmirtz missed while they’d argued in the restroom. “So they got their chef out here and guess what?”

“He was afraid of ceilings?” Doofenshmirtz guessed.

Dakota shook his head. “Nope, he was scared of the spider that made its home in a top corner of the ladder. But they got the bat down, so crisis averted.”

Doofenshmirtz and Dakota laughed together, but Cavendish really didn’t see what was so funny about it. At least heights, ladders, bats, and spiders were all tangible.

Cavendish couldn’t pinpoint his fear toward one thing when it came to the dreaded question.

Their food was cleared away, then the check was dropped off. Cavendish felt a bit guilty when he saw the receipt.

“What’s up? More than you expected?” Dakota asked.

“Said it was my treat, didn’t I?” Cavendish said, carefully counting out his money to make exact change. The total price of their meals didn’t bother him, but the physical receipt did.

He looked up to find Doofenshmirtz pinching his index finger and thumb together to form a ring shape, not so subtly indicating Dakota with his other hand.

Okay, maybe I can do this. How hard can it be? Face Dakota. Open mouth. Try not to insult him. Take out ring box. Actually, speaking should go somewhere in there too.

“Dakota, there’s something-”

“WE HAVE SECURED PERMISSION TO SEARCH THIS CAFE!”

Everyone screamed as coins suddenly flew everywhere. Three men in perfectly tailored suits and sunglasses spread out, swiping through coin piles and upturning tables as they searched.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” one of the men said, stopping at their table. “Many of the patrons have stated that a machine is the source of these coins. They pointed us to your table. Do you know anything?”

Cavendish and Dakota were fully prepared to deny these accusations, but Doofenshmirtz beat them to the punch.

“The Tip-inator’s mine,” Doofenshmirtz said, brushing coins off the machine and setting it in front of the stunned agent. “Waiters won’t have to worry about bad tips again with this puppy!”

Some people were just asking to be punched in the face with an elephant.

“Counterfeiting is a federal offense. We’ll have to take you in,” the man said as he handcuffed Doofenshmirtz. Then he gestured to Cavendish and Dakota. “Are they accomplices?”

“No,” Doofenshmirtz scowled. “I was wingmaning them cause the leprechaun can’t-”

“Yeesh,” the agent grimaced, and Cavendish was grateful for his timing. “Word of advice: don’t pick felons for wingmen.”

Tell me about it.

“Wow, so this is the consequence I should’ve been wary of, not the structural damage thing,” Doofenshmirtz said as he was led to a white federal vehicle and taken away. He may have the right to remain silent, but he sure as heck wouldn’t be taking advantage of it.

“Why was he wingmaning us? Did you need a mediator cause you’re mad at me for some reason?” Dakota asked.

“Yes and no,” Cavendish said.

“This is about me dropping your Professor Time boxers into the red load at the laundromat, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not that. I wanted a nice brunch and then he goes and gets himself arrested and I’ve been overcome by the urge to strangle my twenty-year-old self for buying that Professor Time pin-up calendar...and you dropped my Professor Time boxers into the red load?”

Dakota grinned. “I plead not guilty.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Cavendish muttered.

“Thanks for the burrito. It was good. There’s an adoption fair in the mall today. You wanna go look at cute animals?”

“You go ahead. I think I need a me day,” Cavendish said. Mostly to think about his next course of action, since Operation: Propose After Brunch was a complete bust.

“Catch ya later then,” Dakota said, humming to himself as he walked off. “Goin’ to the fair. Goin’ to the fair, and then I’m gonna see some animals!”

The world didn’t end. It’s not exactly the worst case scenario.

“Krrr.”

Cavendish looked up from his sulking to find Perry the Platypus examining the Tip-inator. The men must’ve forgotten to take the machine for evidence.

“The federal agents arrested Doofenshmirtz for counterfeiting,” Cavendish explained. “He was trying to correct the issue of bad tipping.”

Perry tipped his hat in a silent thanks, scribbling out a note that stated he would speak to Doofenshmirtz later.

And use some cartoonish physical violence too. Cavendish chose not to question it.

Perry flipped a switch in the Tip-inator, and the coins vanished in a flash of light. Then he ripped out a wire, disabling it for good.

“When you see him, can you punch him once for me?” Cavendish asked.

Perry saluted, more than happy to oblige the request.

It wouldn’t solve his proposal problem, but it made him feel better.

AN: Talk about a trainwreck

#dakavendish #milo murphy's law #balthazar cavendish #vinnie dakota #heinz doofenshmirtz #fanfiction #lucky thirteen

17 notes · View notes

draconesinfinitum-blog · 5 years

Text

Dimensional Breach | Newton’s Separation

Length: 4,400 Words TWs: Violence, Gore, Disturbing Imagery, Language Summary: Gravity fends off an Extradimensional, and Newton is separated from him leading to this RP.

Earth Time: 10:54PM GMT, 27-May-2XXX

“Just a castaway, an island lost at seaaa-oh!”

A blue dragon walked through corridors, echoing the sounds of the dragon’s pitter-patter on the floor, and of someone’s muffled voice in a nearby room singing to themselves. The dragon nudged the door open a bit and peeked into the room, then quickly pulled his head back into the hallway, as if he had been spotted and spooked. But no one spotted him. It was just... a reflex probably. The small dragon (or rather large if you considered slightly overgrown Komodo dragon size to be a large dragon) peered back into the room.

“Another lonely day, with no one here but meeee-oh!”

In the room was a human, dressed comfortably in a T-shirt and shorts, scribbling some strange symbols on five dry erase boards sprawled out against the walls. He appeared to have small headphones on and connected into his left pocket. Probably his phone.

Some of the symbols on the boards looked familiar to the dragon, some he couldn’t recognize at all, but overall it didn’t make much sense. There was some usual lettering, some Greek letters, some arrows and all sorts of that weird math the human and a green wyvern babbled on about with each other before. And then there were symbols he definitely didn’t recognize from anywhere except when the human wrote it out before. Some strange swiggly lines, pointy looking. Who knows.

“Mooore loneliness, than any man could beeeaaaar!”

It didn’t seem like the human could hear anything other than the music he was listening to, and he didn’t turn around to see the blue dragon either, and yet the human raised his left hand and motioned a ‘come in’ to the dragon without removing his gaze from the boards. The human explained to the dragon how he was aware of his surroundings like this before, but the dragon didn’t understand the reasoning behind it. Something about the human feeling gravitational fields without using his ears and eyes to see, even so far as to say he really did have ‘eyes on the back of his head.’ But the dragon could see no eyes on the back of the human’s head. That would be really weird. Definitely weirder than how humanoids looked in general anyway.

“Rescue me before I fall into despaaaaiir.”

The dragon nudged the door open all the way and showed himself in. The first thing he did was rush over by the human’s left side and demanded pets by pulling on the human’s shirt with his teeth. And so the human rubbed the dragon’s head and neck while still writing on the board with his other hand.

“I’ll send an SOS to the world! I’ll send an SOS to the world! I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my, I hope that someone gets my... message in a bottle, yeah.”

The dragon purred from the pets and rubs.

“Message in a bottle, yeah...”

Then, the blue dragon hopped onto a bed nearby and considered it his temporary spot, like a cat finding a random place to sleep. He felt comfortable here, listening to the human’s singing and the scribbling of marker on a board. Sure, the human’s singing wasn’t professional singer quality, but it wasn’t a screechy mess either. And the dragon felt safe here, too. He swished and thumped his tail back and forth on the bed along the human’s singing.

“A year has passed since I wrote my note... I should have known this right from the staaaart.”

The dragon yawned and continued listening to the human singing the current song, then the next... then... he must have dozed off because suddenly there was no more singing, no more scribbling on the board, and most of the lights were off. The dragon panicked for a split second, lifting his head up to see if the human was still there. And sure enough, he was. Phew. The human was on his laptop a few feet away. Looked like he was reading something.

The blue dragon stretched, hopped off the bed and joined the human’s side, shoving his snout in front of the computer screen.

“...”

The human remained silent, focusing on whatever he was reading, but slowly placing his hand on the top of the dragon’s neck and rubbing the textured scales that lined it. The dragon purred and lied his head beside the keyboard. He enjoyed being petted, and the human found dragon scale texturing calming, a way to relieve stress.

“How long did I sleep?” the dragon asked, staring at the computer’s clock and forgetting what time it was when he came in.

“About two hours,” the human responded.

The dragon pulled his head away and looked at the boards. There was different symbols written on them. “D-Did you figure the thing out?” he asked, shoving his snout under the human’s arm, pushing the side of his snout against the human’s chest and giving him a great bit smile.

“Nope,” the human answered, closing his laptop and the only source of light in there. Immediately though, the human waved his hand up in the air and the lights above turned back on. “I still can’t understand why kinetic energy doesn’t interact very well with neutral matter, or how it can be moved in the first place. It’s like its own set of rules contradict each other, and I’m trying to see if it has anything to do with temporal vecto--” He stopped rambling and looked at the dragon, who’s facial expression admitted he had no idea what the human was blabbering on about.

The human gave a small nudge with his face on the dragon’s snout, similar to that of a kiss. “It’s fine. Curie and I will figure this out eventually.”

The human stood up and got down to the dragon’s level, placing his hands under the dragon’s front legs, around his middle, and effortlessly picking him up. The dragon had to weigh at least three, maybe four hundred pounds at his current size. The dragon kept his front legs wrapped around the human’s neck and lifting his head up high. “Come on, Newton. I brought more supplies yesterday, and I wanted you to try something.”

The human carried Newton down the hallway into another part of the station. He placed the dragon down carefully onto a chair in a kitchen area. Newton sat patiently, swishing his tail from side to side and waiting for the human to return from the nearby counter. He came back with a bowl of fruit, including fresh cut mango, cantaloupe, kiwi, and another bowl of some very strange food Newton hadn’t seen before.

“Here’s your usual favorites, just in case. And this right here,” the human started, holding up a very hairy red fruit, “is called rambutan. If I remember correctly, this sort of tastes like grapes... maybe. Don’t quote me on that,” he explained, ripping the hairy red shell off and exposing its shiny white interior. “Here,” he said, handing the fruit over to Newton. “Just peel and eat the white part. There’s a large inedible seed in the center, so avoid that.” The human wasn’t sure how a dragon like Newton would react to eating the seed, but he wasn’t going to risk anything. Higher leveled dragons seemed to be able eat practically anything, both edible and inedible, but Newton wasn’t at that level yet. Then again, lower leveled dragons appeared to be fine with highly inedible objects, but... He had a feeling Newton wouldn’t like the flavor of the seed anyway.

The dragon took the fruit in his front paws and carefully munched on it, taking the human’s advice to consideration. He practically removed all of the edible parts off the seed in a few seconds. “This is good!! B-But I like mango better. I think. Second best, behind mango,” the dragon said.

The human slid the bowl of rambutan over closer to Newton. “Just dig your claw a bit into the flesh, and peel that bit off,” he told Newton.

After some time, the dragon was almost done picking at the last bits of fruit in each bowl. The human didn’t bother leaving the room. He knew if he just left, it would make Newton nervous, and probably get the dragon to start following him. Possibly some kind of abandonment issues, the human thought, but Newton wouldn’t talk about what happened before they met. At least not now. Someday...

...

The human sat up straight, slowing his breathing, and stared off into the distance, focusing on something elsewhere...

“Grav?” the dragon asked, noticing something about Gravity’s composure was different. “Wh-What’s wrong?”

“Stay here,” the human told Newton, and immediately rushing out back into the hallway. Newton jumped out of the chair and started pacing back and forth. He didn’t like this, no no no. Something was wrong, and he wanted to stay close to someone he trusted. He hated being alone like this, and he had this awful feeling in the back of his mind gnawing on him. This wasn’t right...

Newton pitter-pattered his way out the way Gravity went and tried following his faint scent. At some point he lost the scent, and was running aimlessly around the station.

And then it hit him.

The cold... so cold. Newton started shivering. He could see his breath in front of him with every exhale. And that feeling from earlier; it was so much worse. His very scales felt prickly with fear. Newton felt something like this before, and it was a horrible experience, even if indirectly. The blue dragon heard yells from Gravity and other dragons from very far away, echoing through the halls. That’s the voice Newton was looking for!! He tried to pick a direction towards where he thought the voice came from, but the overhead lights shut off suddenly, leaving only the emergency backup lights to dimly light the room, and he stopped.

Paralyzed...

The dragon keeled over onto the ground. He tried to move, he tried to scream, he tried to even cry, and nothing... There was a loud deafening buzzing in his ears, but it seemed to come from his own head? That kind of deafening. Newton knew something was seriously wrong, something was wrong, wrong, wrong! The dragon tried to roll over, but nO! NO! Something within him told him DON’T turn around, DON’T look. He wanted to cry...

This horrible experience seemed to never end, but suddenly he felt a sharp stinging pain in his stomach, and he was forcibly raised high onto the wall. Newton tried screaming now, but still, nothing. He was so focused on his own pain, he couldn’t pay complete attention to the thing in front of his face.

It was a... humanoid. Hard to see any definite details. It had a cloak covering most of its body. Skeletal limbs had a firm grip on a large scythe, the pointed end embedded deep in Newton’s stomach, and seemed to be attempting to pull the scythe out of Newton with some difficulty. All Newton could remember in precise detail were the three blue glowing eyes, and such a horrendous grin that smiled from ear to ear.

Newton felt like his insides were being ripped apart and pulled out of him, his consciousness fading, but the pain getting exponentially worse. He wanted this to end. He was immensely afraid of death normally, but during this one instance...

That was, until something knocked the humanoid off Newton, and he dropped to the floor. The dragon tried standing back up, but he felt so weak to completely concentrate on what was going on. He managed to get back up on his four legs, and without realizing it, his mouth began to glow. He wanted to scream, but no words came out. It wasn’t out of paralysis this time. No, this was something Newton experienced only a couple of times before, and he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. The blue dragon just realized how upset he was, and his first instinct was to react in this way.

“NEWTON!”

The dragon released his breath towards the intruder, causing a bright explosion to demolish the room and surrounding ones within a large radius. Thankfully, it wasn’t close enough to puncture any sides of the station. The blast injured Gravity, even knocking Newton backwards into another room near the escape pods. Gravity attempted to form a barrier around the explosion beforehand, but he didn’t react fast enough. Just enough to keep Newton alive, albeit severely injured.

The intruding humanoid remained floating in the air, completely unfazed by the blast. If anything, the large scythe it held vaporized in its hands. It seemed to grin, and turned its gaze directly towards Newton in the other room.

“No...” the human managed to say under his breath. The creature quickly floated towards Newton. Gravity focused in on the creature, but couldn’t hold it still. He was still recovering and regenerating the burns from the blast, and he couldn’t do this all at once. He was running out of ideas. If Newton stayed here any longer, the creature could take his life. He couldn’t hide Newton anywhere either, or fend off the creature before it got to Newton. The damned thing took a direct annihilation blast! Instead, Gravity raised his fist. He opened his palm, causing one of the escape pods near Newton to open. He hated doing this. He hated leaving Newton by himself, but he couldn’t think of any other option. At least the escape pod had a hibernation setting on it, and maybe Newton could recover, or at least hang on while Gravity dealt with this situation first.

Before the creature could get to Newton, Gravity flicked his hand, pushing Newton into the escape pod, sealing it, and sending it off, far away from the creature.

“Be safe, Newton...”

The creature gave off a piercing shriek. Gravity finished regenerating over his burns, gaining composure now that all his dragons for sure were far away from this being, he thought. When Newton went looking for him, Gravity told Tesla to gather the other dragons as fast as they could, and get them to another part of the station. They should be able to fend for themselves should this being decide to breach their current location, especially with Gravity’s prized creation, Apex, defending the other dragons.

The creature turned its piercing three-eyed gaze towards Gravity as he walked closer. Something about this creature was familiar... The otherworldly being pulled a bone-like spike from its back, tearing it off without a sign of pain on its face, not even a twitch. Another spike grew in its place almost instantly. The being held the spike outward, and it grew longer, and longer, then curved at the end until it became a sharp piece of metal attached to the bone. It was a replacement scythe, perhaps what the previous scythe came from.

Before the being could charge at Gravity with its newly forged weapon, the human raised his hand, pointing at the being, and lowering his arm down. The being felt a huge shift in acceleration on its body, and slammed down onto the ground. Appeared it can be affected by gravitation, no matter how phantom-like it appeared. “Stay down, you piece of shit...” he told the creature. Gravity threw his arms outward, where two black swords extended from his arms. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re going to regret hurting my dragons,” he growled.

The creature struggled, fighting hard against Gravity’s powers. He pointed a sword at its head. “Why did you come here? Answer me if you want a hint of mercy.”

The creature did not respond. Instead, it looked up at Gravity and opened its glowing mouth wide. No sound came out, but Gravity could hear a deafening buzzing in his head. He immediately fell to the ground next to it, and the creature was released of his gravitational grasp. The creature swung its scythe into Gravity’s chest and pinned him to the wall, just as it did with Newton.

Gravity remembered this feeling, actually... When he was little... At night. It would come. He knew something was there. The Boogeyman, they called it, or sleep paralysis he heard once he got older. They always said the monster hid in the closet or under the bed, but no. He’d be paralyzed like this, and wouldn’t have the courage to see what was there behind him. That is, until one day his imaginary friend, his prized future creation, came and slayed the monster. How could he forget that...

Gravity attempted to move, but right. The paralysis. He felt his insides being ripped apart, and he couldn’t bring himself to think this is what Newton experienced just minutes prior. It angered him once he came to that realization. It pissed him off. Gravity managed to break free of the paralysis and shoved one of his swords into the monster’s chest. He then knocked the scythe out of the Boogeyman’s hands, raised his leg up against himself, then kicked into the creature’s head as hard as he could. The creature was sent flying backwards with the sword still embedded in its chest, falling flat on the ground with an audible clunk as the sword’s tip embedded itself into the metal floor, trapping the creature in between..

The Boogeyman tried to move, but was held in place by the sword. The sword itself was highly compressed matter, a black hole in the shape of a weapon. Spacetime curved painfully around this point, ripping any matter it came in contact with, thankfully including such a being as the Boogeyman. It didn’t hesitate though, and started to rip itself out of the sword’s place, causing a tear in its side as it slid sideways out of the weapon’s grasp. The creature raised itself back into the air, some noticeable blue glowing organs exposed and hanging out of its side with matching blood oozing out. Despite appearing organic, it certainly wasn’t...

Gravity was a little surprised at how insensitive such a creature was to itself. Not even a hesitated moment, just an immediate reflex. The creature raised its arms, showing it actually had at least two other skeletal pairs of limbs hidden under its cloak. Various other spines on its back tore off and were forged into new scythes, this time all of these floating around the Boogeyman’s form. The weapons started spinning at high speeds, then were flung towards Gravity’s direction. The weapons barely missed Gravity as he dodged. He figured now would be the time to start manipulating the local time, at least have a speed advantage over this being.

Gravity concentrated. The entire room’s minimal light source died down to a complete black as the emitted photons slowed to a pause; the minimal heat available died nearly to zero. He couldn’t see with his eyes, but he still maintained a lock onto the creature through his gravitational sensing. It was definitely massive, and it wasn’t until now that he noticed... The scythes were physically in the 3D plane. The rest of the visible humanoid just barely hovered over the surface, just enough for any available light to interact with, but not enough to be affected by anything physically, very much like a ghost. No wonder Newton’s positron breath did absolutely nothing to it.

“Fucking coward...” he muttered under his breath. He pulled the sword embedded in the ground towards his palm in a telekinetic fashion. He didn’t wait another moment, and charged at the creature, preparing to strike at its physical body...

That is... until the Boogeyman moved. Its three eyes glowed a bright ominous blue, then immediately disappeared from its previous position.

“WHAT?!”

The creature appeared behind him he sensed, but managed to strike him with a scythe in the back. He was paralyzed again. How the hell did this creature move? Gravity’s abilities were still in effect. Time was slowed to a PAUSE, so how did this creature break free from the fucking laws of time? Did it too have time manipulation abilities?

Gravity tried focusing on the creature again. If it could be flung around with gravitational manipulation, then it could be crushed. Gravity managed to break free out of the paralysis through intense focusing again, causing the creature to writhe in pain from the sudden crushing effects. Its blue eyes stopped glowing and lost contact with Gravity, and the time flowed back to normal. It fell to the ground lashing out, causing loads of glowing blue blood to scatter around the room, even on Gravity’s face and clothes when he turned around. “What the hell did you come here for? Tell me,” he ordered.

The creature continued lashing out, ignoring Gravity’s question.

Gravity hadn’t realized, but he could feel rumbling at his feet. His other dragons-- Was this creature attacking various parts of the ship while keeping him preoccupied? He hoped Apex was handling the beast from that end if that was the case...

“Tell me, or I swear I will crush you.”

No response. Instead, the creature gazed back with glowing blue eyes like before. Gravity noticed the vision around the creature was skewed and blurred, like the Boogeyman was the only thing in existence to focus on. It was doing it again, wasn’t it...?

Gravity responded by increasing the acceleration on its head, forcing its skull-like head to start cracking open, where a blue glow emanated from the cracked wound. Whatever this thing was, it certainly was proving to be a HUGE pain in the ass. It infiltrated his station, tried killing one of his dragons, tried killing him, and not even so much as a fucking explanation?

“Tell me, why did you try killing my dragon?! ANSWER ME!”

The human was so angry, he didn’t realize he applied way too much pressure on the creature’s skull. It cracked open.

The creature’s cloak vaporized, exposing its body against the faint emergency backup lights. Despite its head being cracked open, it raised itself up high, exposing even then only a tiny portion of its true body. Many more heads entered into the 3D plane beside the cracked one, surrounding it, hissing and shrieking and deformed. Multiple skeletal limbs appeared around the sides, unattached to the main body, each holding a separate scythe. On top of this, many tentacles lined with blue, unnerving eyes slithered from various parts of its grotesque body and from thin air around it.

Gravity raised a sword and pointed it towards the newly formed being. “Now do you want to answer why you’re here?” he snarled.

The Boogeyman didn’t respond again, and swung its scythes at Gravity. Gravity just barely dodged the attacks. It was time for drastic measures. The human raised arms into the air, where his swords vanished, and yelled, causing portals to form around the creature. Large swords similar to the ones Gravity wielded stabbed into the Boogeyman’s center from all angles, causing the creature to shriek and drop its scythes. The human formed a black hole between his hands, then expanded it slowly. He ran over towards the Boogeyman’s faces and smashed the deadly ball into it directly. The black hole continued to expand, twisting and bending the spacetime field around the Boogeyman.

And yet... the Boogeyman wasn’t giving up. “You motherfucker...” Gravity almost chuckled, nearly out of breath. The creature attempted to rip itself out of its prison, tearing its form apart until pieces of it were free from the black holes that swallowed up the rest of its body. “How the hell are you still alive...” the human muttered. And before his eyes, the Boogeyman attempted piecing various parts of itself together, attempting to forge a new humanoid form out of what was available.

The human flicked his wrist at the creature, causing it to be pinned against the wall while it continued fusing itself together. He snapped his fingers, causing the large sword portals and the massive black hole at their center to vanish, and forced his swords to form back in his hands. He jolted straight at the Boogeyman’s writhing body and stabbed at it many times. “Die die dIE DIE DIE!” he yelled with each stab, letting his emotions get to him over how much pain and damage this thing caused, how much more it could have caused had he not stepped in, and the fact it didn’t bother answering why it came. It just reacted. He was so sure it enjoyed causing pain earlier, but he couldn’t tell. He didn’t care. He just wanted the fucking thing to die.

The Boogeyman eventually lost the ability to regenerate itself. It gave off one last and louder shriek, a disturbing one at that... This shriek almost sounded like a child screaming in pain, until the shriek was drowned out. It foamed at the mouth and throughout its wounds, choking on its screams and the bubbling fluid. Gravity took a few steps back, a little disturbed about what was happening in front of him. The creature’s body eventually fell to the floor and violently twitched a few times before becoming lifeless. The blue glow throughout its body dimmed. The foam receded back into its body, and the body cracked into a pile of dust.

Gravity fell to his knees, finally considering just how much energy he put into this battle, and how much he let his emotions get to him. He normally kept calm, but something was unusually different about these kinds of fights. He felt scared. He felt like he was powerless against these kinds of things, like he wasn’t in control, despite obviously killing the damned thing.

The very air was still freezing, but eventually it would gradually rise back to room temperature. He stayed down for a couple of minutes to gain his breath. Gravity almost wanted to cry to himself, but then slowly stood back up and pushed through the feeling. There were other things to do, and he couldn’t show weakness at times like these, not even to himself. He’d have to check on his other dragons, assess the damages, and get Newton back.

He rushed over to the escape pod area, fiddled with the mechanisms and attempted to track Newton’s pod’s location.

Location cannot be determined... Rescanning...

Shit...

#long post #violence tw//#gore tw//#OC: Newton #OC: Gravity #OC: Boogeymen #//wow I somehow got it to exact 4400 dsfkajhgf #//this took me like 10 fucking hours oh my god #//I'm so exhausted #//and this was a complete rewrite of another thing I did that was 3000+ words long months ago because I hated how it was written

9 notes · View notes