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cherrykindness · 3 years

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let's make babies |

pairing: Harry Styles x Actress!Reader

summary: you and harry are doing a live on instagram, you've drunk a lot of wine and now the world knows that the future Mrs. Styles is ready to make babies.

warnings: mostly cute, but the title tells you what you need to know 🤪

"What is your favorite song from the Fine Line album?" Y/N read aloud, twirling in her right hand the second glass of wine of the evening, the one already halfway through. "Adore You and Watermelon Sugar, of course."

Harry giggled, rolling his eyes upon hearing his fiancée's statement.

"Y/N will always choose Adore You because it was obviously written for her." He accused. "She wouldn't give that answer under different circumstances."

The comments climbed up the screen continuously, most fans gushing about how cute Harry Styles and YN/LN could be while the other part was concerned with wringing even more information out of the slightly inebriated couple who had decided to do a surprise live one early Sunday morning.

As expected after being away for some time to begin filming Don't Worry, Darling in Southern California, Harry enjoyed a lazy weekend in the house he shared with his fiancée and her pets. The days were filled with late naps and relentless Netflix marathons, sublime and ethereal evenings, marked mostly by unexpected declarations and rounds of sex that used to last until the beams of light were shyly coming through the linen curtains. They were not a monotonous couple, so this order could easily be changed.

"Watermelon Sugar is nothing more than about my love for watermelons, don't get too creative." Harry replied to a fan while sporting a corner smile, the message standing out among the rest for its dozens of emojis and large print, questioning the singer about erotic content behind the lyrics of his latest hit. "I really don't know what you guys are talking about."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head before leaning it against her fiancé's chest, propped up on the soft white pillows that were spread practically all over the bed. The air conditioner was on at a minimal temperature and a light rain whipped on the panes of glass camouflaged by the cream-colored curtain, that being the projection of Y/N's favorite nights.

"You can tell them, I'm not shy." She joked, nudging her fiancé's waist.

"You know what it was written about and who it was written for." Harry replied, raising one of his eyebrows. "That's what matters."

It went without saying that much of Harry's newest album, as well as some of his earlier work, had been done in exclusive dedication to his future wife. Y/N had been the muse for a vast repertoire of romantic songs, and even though the singer preferred to keep the story behind his more explicit compositions a "secret", the relationship the two had shared for more than three years was already solid and known enough for the media and fans to distinguish hidden messages in small details.

"It's a song about what usually comes before the act of making babies." Y/N laughed as he pointed at the display. "Honestly, you guys are impossible."

"No, we make babies every day." Harry joked, making a funny motion with his eyebrows. "I would spend my entire career writing just about that."

"Harry!" The actress exclaimed incredulously, slapping her fiancé weakly on the chest. "Children might be watching this."

"You don't want to have babies with me?" He asked falsely offended, accepting the cup that Y/N offered him. "Because I want some babies with you."

Y/N laughed, rolling her eyes as she watched the internet freak out at the dialogue that had suddenly emerged. Since the beginning of the quarantine, it was kind of inevitable that the couple of artists would not become the darlings of all social media; they were fervently active with photos, videos, and lives that depicted step by step daily life in isolation, gaining more and more followers and making the media more and more fascinated by the relationship they both shared.

The wedding was scheduled for the summer of next year and it was perhaps the most anticipated event in the tabloids. Bets about what the model of Y/N's dress would be and lists presuming who would be selected for the short list of guests stood out among countless news stories about the famous people influencing pop culture today.

The possible arrival of a Styles baby was an inevitable topic in interviews. Harry and Niall were the only members of the ex-boyband that had not become fathers yet, and because they had maintained a solid relationship and were seen as one of the most enviable couples during the last four years, Y/N and Harry had gotten used to all this openly asked questions. They didn't mind, they even had fun with the montages and all the anxiety that dominated the whole internet, often mentioning the fandoms' efforts to represent them as such "cool" parents in perfectly edited pictures.

"No, guys, I'm not pregnant." Y/N amusingly clarified the doubt of dozens of new comments. "Please don't believe so many controversial news stories that appear out there. I was on twitter last week and saw several people theorizing about a possible pregnancy, most of the arguments based on a website that used photos from the set of How to Get Away with Murder in the season where I was actually playing a pregnant woman as Laurel." She laughed. "It's so funny! I know you guys love to guess these things, but we won't hide something so special when it actually happen, I promise."

"Especially because Y/N can hide absolutely nothing from anyone." Harry accused, leaving his drink on the corner table before settling into a comfortable position for the two of them. "Anyone who's a Marvel fan knows that. That's one of her most characteristic quirks."

"They gave me a fake script for the last two movies." Y/N agreed, shaking his head. "For me and Tom."

"We agreed to keep the engagement a secret for a while. The plan was to travel to Holmes Chapel to break the news to my family in person, but guess who got a call at ten o'clock at night from an angry Anne because she learned of her son's engagement from an interview Y/N gave the next day?"

Y/N gave a guilty smile, winking gracefully at the camera. "It was all James' fault! I'm sure he already suspected something, those questions were very suspicious."

"Of course the questions were suspicious, babe. You literally said you had a secret that involved both of us but that you couldn't tell because it was important that our families knew first."

"I thought he would think about a pregnancy or something!" The actress defended herself, feeling very convincing in her intonation bordering on obviousness. "That's a mania I can't get rid of, it's in my genes."

"Did you all hear that? Further proof that you guys don't have to worry about guessing when Y/N's pregnancy will be, I'm sure our baby will make sure to tell you everything while still in the womb, mom's genes will make sure of that."

"You are so funny, Harry Styles." Y/N sarcastically stated, holding back a giggle as countless messages with laughing emojis were frantically up. "Yeah, I know I talk a lot and all, but you have annoying quirks too."

It was obvious that live would be news the next day. Although they were completely open about matters concerning their relationship, nothing seemed better than receiving so much exclusive information from a Harry and S/N drunk on expensive wine.

"You wake up in a bad mood and you're dangerously sexy, that should be illegal."

Harry laughed, holding his fiancée's waist a little tighter as he felt her tumble a little further to the side, getting closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Y/N was dangerously weak for drinks, and the singer knew that the actress' body was already near its limit.

"You're the only sexy person here, love." He declared with a corner smile, evidently finding the whole situation funny. "Do you want to go to sleep now?"

"No." Y/N shook her head. "Can we watch some movie? Can we watch Sweet Home?"

"Of course, love." He murmured, giving the woman a quick kiss on the forehead.

Even though Harry knew that his fiancée was unlikely to make it past the five-minute mark of the episode, he made sure to restart the korean series at exactly the scene where she had stopped, the first chapter still halfway through after Y/N realized that it would be impossible to watch such a macabre work without a drop of alcohol in her blood.

She had been so excited by the taste of Argentinian wine and the idea of updating her fans after a few weeks away, that she had forgotten the main purpose of the live. Harry and Y/N had been apart for a few days due to the new movie the Brit was shooting in North America, all happening in an unrestrictedly careful manner due to the restrictions caused by the pandemic.

He was slowly migrating towards acting and the future Mrs. Styles couldn't be prouder. Y/N had felt on cloud nine when Harry had given her the news of his upcoming job, but her only pronouncement on the subject had been a succinct post on instagram. Just a photo of the couple on a trip to Germany with a simple heart emoji didn't seem enough for the actress' exhibitionist soul, and coming to that conclusion was the main reason she decided to invite him, already relatively changed, for a live appearance. Y/N wanted to go on and on about how much she loved that man and work on that whole honeyed speech that would bring her (once again) the title of "cutest bride of all time," but of course Harry had to come home from his trip with his favorite red wine and poison her with those sweet caresses that took her out of orbit, turning the degree of alcohol content into the least of her problems.

"You're going to kiss Florence." Y/N exclaimed suddenly, as if only now realizing that her fiancé would share the screen with Florence Pugh, one of her closest friends in that industry. "Kiss on the mouth."

The MacBook was still open and hundreds of new comments were going up every second, but Harry didn't bother one bit to warn her about the possibility of her becoming a meme the next day. He was having too much fun with the situation to worry.

"Are you jealous?"

"Yes." She stated with a pout. "I am jealous, I just don't know if I'm more jealous of her or of you."

"But you kiss me every day, babe." Harry laughed. "And you've been kissing other people's men for almost ten years." He joked.

"But I only think about you, I already told you that."

Harry shook his head negatively at the camera, knowing he was sharing with the fans the funniest side of his fiancée.

"I know that, honey." He assured, lightly stroking the actress' back. "I think we'd better turn off the TV and go to sleep now, I'm sure you'll have a terrible headache tomorrow."

The brit planned to bid his audience goodbye and put an end to that recording, but Y/N was drunk and her sense of right and wrong had already gone to space. Harry should have been quicker, however, because his fiancée's speech would be cause for new tags and the only subject for the interviewers for at least the next few months.

"I don't want to sleep, how about we make babies?"

That's what Watermelon Sugar was all about, after all.

#harry styles imagine #imagine1d #imagine harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #fluffy imagine #harry fluff #actress reader

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fallen029 · 3 years

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Nervous

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Mira tilted her head to the side though her eyes betrayed the cute, quirky questioning vibe she was going for as they, instead, seemed rather disbelieving. It was easy for Laxus to note it these days, having fallen like most other in the hall for her typical chaste trickiness and innocuous pretenses over the years, but after being far more than just a guild member to her now for a good number of them as well, he'd begun to pick up on the little things.

Like how she seemed forever trapped in a guilelessness that didn't quite entrap her as well as she thought it did.

But this was fine, the ease at which he disarmed her now, as Mira was able to pick apart the man's own fallacies and walls.

"Yeah," he grumbled to the woman's question, but she only grinned at him, as if victorious, as she picked apart his lies with ease.

"Then why are you biting at your nails?" she asked with round eyes. "You only do that when you're nervous."

And now she'd managed to annoy him.

"Mira-"

"I'm only curious," she insisted with a little shake of her head. "Dragon."

He huffed some, his chest deflating as he finally gave her his full attention. They were in the bar, as they typically were, but Mirajane had actually found a moment to take a break. Rest. S-Class trials were, at that very moment, going on and those who hadn't been chosen were sulking away from the guild for the time being while a decent sized group was off being put through the rigorous trials and tribulations that were associated with being designated part of the elite group of mages that were Fairy Tail S-Class wizards.

Laxus had no reason to be nervous.

He'd claimed his spot many years before and, at times, wondered if he even had eventually surpassed the old geezer all together. He'd be a wizard saint, someday, he knew, or at least told himself so, and that meant that he had far more concerns than something as silly as a guild distinction.

Not when may one day have the distinction among the entire continent.

S-Class trials had nothing to do with him and, if anything, he was mostly just glad to find that bar emptied out some that day.

"It's okay," Mira assured him then though and when she reached across the table, it was to grab his hand, pulling it down so that she could caress it as she looked deeply into the slayer's eyes. "I am too."

"You are what too?" he asked dumbly, confused equally by her words as he was calmed by her gesture.

"Nervous," she insisted.

"About what?"

"The same thing as you."

"I'm not," he told her, "nervous."

"Laxus-"

"What do I have to be nervous about, huh?" Then, frowning, he questioned, "What do you?"

"Well, actually, I'm nervous about a lot of things," she said, releasing his hand, but only so she could bring her own up to her cheek and rest her head there then, as she thought. "I have a shipment of meat that hasn't come in yet and I know, this weekend, if I don't get it, that I'll have to serve meals without any meat portion and the guys will be pretty upset about that, which will affect my tips, and I've been trying to save up money for my wedding. Which brings me to my next point, I've been saving for a wedding that can't yet happen because my boyfriend is dragging his feet with proposing to me even though we've talked about it a thousand times-"

"Mira," he warned, but she only shrugged.

"The dog I look after was sick last night, too," she finished. "I'm nervous about that."

Laxus, with a slight breath, questioned, "What's wrong with him?"

"He has the shits."

And he blinked. Then narrowed his eyes while the woman only gazed right back with hers earnest and honest.

Shrugging some then, Laxus said, "If you need help wrangling him down to a vet, I could-"

"Oh!" Mira sat up then. "And I'm super nervous because my baby brother is off on the S-Class trials and I want him to preform well." Shrugging, she added, "But I'm torn, because I also want all of my friends to do well. Including your best friend. Freed."

Laxus' face fell then as he realized he'd been duped (possibly; her street dog did have a hefty amount of ailments from time to time) and only looked off once more as he remarked, "Sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Laxus. To be nervous about such things." Sighing, she said, "It means that you care. About them. To be nervous for someone else. I want them all to come back, knowing that even though they can't all be the winner, at least invigorated and ready to start right back at training and trying their hardest to, eventually, be that winner. It's an honor to be nervous on someone's behalf. I'd gladly take all of Elf's nerves if it meant he could put all his focus into the trials right now."

Laxus snorted. "Yeah, well, bully for you. Freed can take care of his damn self. I don't need to worry about him, like you and your loser brother."

"Behave."

Snorting, the man looked off before saying, "I'm not worried. Over Freed. Or anything."

"Fine. Not worried then." Mira had lost some of her jolliness at the slight her boyfriend had sent towards her absent brother. "But you are thinking about it. Aren't you? Even just a little? He's your best friend. I would at least think-"

"I'm," he insisted to her with a finality in his tone he usually reserved for literally anyone who wasn't his demon, "not nervous about the S-Class trials. Or worried. Or concerned. Alright?"

Sighing, she looked off for a moment, considering the slight surge of people that had come in in the last ten minutes or so and weighing in her mind whether or not her break was officially over. Not quite ready to let it go though, when her eyes drifted back to her boyfriend, it was with another set of words on her tongue.

"If you're not nervous about the trials," she began in that tone and it was enough, just on its own, to make him regret coming into the hall that day, "then that must mean that you're nervous about something else, so what is it? Huh? Is it that you've been seeing someone else?"

"Mira, what?"

"Some other woman, is it, then? Who is she, Laxus? Huh? Don't think that I wont' make a scene here, right now, in front of everyone, because-"

"What are you-"

"-if you don't tell me what it is that you're so nervous about, then I have no choice but to assume that you're cheating on-"

"I'm nervous for my friend, alright?" And he usually wouldn't take such a tone with her, but he did then, snapping some, out of aggravation and, maybe it was a trick of the lights, but the woman could have sworn she even saw a flick of his fangs as the vein on the side of his head bulged and his eyes darkened. "I want him to be S-Class with me and I'm worried that your stupid brother or one of those other idiots will get it over him. Or that...that… He'll fuck it up himself. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?"

No.

The other people around the guildhall did not.

But they had, quite clearly, heard nearly every word of his little outburst and, feeling all those eyes on him now only made the man growl louder. He was primed for a retreat, storming off and staying away from the hall for a few days, until he could stomach a return without smashing in the face of the first person who questioned him.

Mirajane, however, wasn't going to let this happen.

Because, yes, she had been very happy with the explosion of information that had just fallen out of the slayer's mouth. She'd only been prodding at him her entire break. For it to result in such a satisfying revelation meant it hadn't all been for not.

"Awe," Mirajane giggled, clapping her hands at the slayer's misery. "You guys are just such good friends, huh, dragon? You feel a lot better, don't you? Getting that off your chest?"

"No," he told her with the same candor that he'd just exposed himself and his nerves to the entire guildhall. "I feel worse."

"Well," Mira hummed as, job complete, she got to her feet once more, she offered, "I feel better. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Demon." The moniker was more of a proclamation than an endearing term. "You're evil."

"I love you," was her purest of explanations and she meant it too, he could tell, as her deep blues flashed a bit of hurt. "Helping you admit your feelings for your friends is how I show that."

"Yeah, well," he muttered under his breath, "then you need to find new ways."

Laxus took off that night, before her shift was finished, but that was fine with the woman as she'd more than begun staying most nights at his apartment.

When she arrived, he was flicking through an old atlas, comparing it to a current map. Something for a job, was all he grumbled to her when she lightly questioned, and Mira let his tone go because, well, she had been rather insistent before, at the bar, and all things considered, he hadn't outright acted a fool.

Just mostly.

"If Elfman doesn't make S-Class," she did whisper, eventually, over dinner that night and she saw the man roll his eyes, thinking she was trying to goad him back into a conversation, "I'll cry."

Grunting, he only continued to stab at the steamed vegetables at his plate, never rightly bringing them up to his mouth, but not quite ready to admit, when he insisted in a huff that he be the one to make them, that this was a bad idea.

"Of course," she hummed again, "if he makes it, I'll probably cry then, too."

"Mira?"

"Yes?"

"I already told you what you wanted to hear," he told her plainly. "What else do you want from me?"

"I'd like you to make a big emotional plea again," she replied back with the same amount of flatness that it almost made the slayer recoil. At the sight of it though, she broke some as, with a giggle, she admitted, "I'm just talking, dragon. About my baby brother. Who wants this so badly-"

"If he wanted it badly, he'll come back S-Class," Laxus told her as, with a shake of his head, he went back to stabbing at his vegetables. "If he doesn't, then that means he didn't want it badly enough."

"Well, I'm not saying that to him, if he comes back not S-Class."

"Yeah, I figured."

"And I'm not saying that to Freed either."

"That's fine," Laxus told her. "I will. He knows where to go to hear the truth."

"A little kindness will get you a lot in life, Lax," she replied, but he only shrugged some.

"Won't get you S-Class," he retorted and, well, the next morning would finally put the entire conversation to rest.

Cana had never looked prouder than herself and, that night, never gotten drunker, than when she was finally, after wanting it for so long, so much, to find herself on the same Fairy Tail tier as her father.

He was there, Gildarts was, having been hanging around for a few days, prepared for this, and she seemed rather annoyed by all of his attention, shoving at the man's face any time he tried to hug her, but betraying her annoyance by the glistening in her eyes, every single time he, also drunkenly, announced to those amassed how proud he was of the guild's newest S-Class member.

His daughter.

Mirajane was caught as she always was, between dismayed at the heartbreak evident on the faces of those who weren't victorious and the one who was. As she comforted both Elfman and Natsu over their losses, she did take note, across the bar, of where Freed was very stoic and graceful in his defeat, but still being comforted in their own ways, by his two friends.

"Who wants to be S-Class anyways?" Bickslow questioned. "When you can be part of the most elite team in all the lands?"

"I would," Ever admitted under her breath though, still, she patted at Freed's shoulders sympathetically.

It was as they stood though that all three felt it. It had been looming, after all, the entire time. The presence of their most highly viewed mentor, Laxus, who came out of hiding, down in the game room. He'd been down there transferring his nerves into some rounds of pool, but Cana and Gildarts very loud commotion had finally caught his attention and he found himself not welcomed to the celebrations of the member he'd most desired.

At his approach, both Bickslow and Ever took a step back. They too had disappointed the man in the past, but never quite in such a grand fashion. Freed was primed to take the gold this time around, only to lose out to the guild drunk and Evergreen couldn't help but to glare over at the other woman, hating her more, even, than Titania, just for that day only.

Laxus came to a stop before the trio, eyes on Freed, and the rune mage forced himself to meet the gaze of the other man. It was just as he was beginning to open his mouth though that he caught sight of Mira, over at the bar, staring very pointedly his way and he took in a breath, instead of speaking, reconsidering his words before he was unable to take the back.

His gaze didn't soften, not exactly, but Freed was almost surprised when, instead of being reprimanded, he was welcomed with a pat at the shoulder from the man, as well as a slight grin.

"You kicked Elfman's ass, at least, right?" the slayer asked to which the other mage bowed his head a bit.

"Well, we did find ourselves across from one another and I found myself moving on while he did not, but-"

"All that matters."

"L-Laxus-"

"You'll want it more, next time," he told the other man simply. "After getting so close."

"Yes." And he balled up his fists then, Freed did, nodding his head at the man as he insisted, "I will!"

It was a celebration that night, not a pity party, as Cana was far from someone that anyone could look down upon (especially not with her father there, intent on making certain this didn't happen) and it was a good night.

For everyone.

The night peaked though, for Laxus, when towards the end of it, as he sat up at the bar drinking with the still far too giddy Gildarts, listening to the man go on about all of where he'd been (with some praise for his little girl sprinkled in there), Mirajane appeared at his side. The slayer originally thought it was to refill his mug, which he held up to help her with this, but instead of leaning down to fulfill this request, the woman instead pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering long enough for Gildarts to giggle at the man.

"Mira," Laxus questioned with a bit of a rosiness to his cheeks as the woman rightened and did, finally, begin to fill his mug with golden ale once more. Such public displays were hardly their style and the man raised his head then to question, "What was that for?"

"I just like it when you're nice, dragon." She even giggled. "I like it a lot."

But the night was busy and she was being called off again, across the bar, which left the still somewhat blushing Laxus and grinning Gildarts.

"You caught a good one, Laxus. Proud of ya."

"Shuddup."

"No, seriously." And Gildarts glanced over his shoulder then, to the table where his daughter was plying herself with barrel after barrel while her guild members, all so thrilled by her accomplishment, sat nearby, happily congratulating her. "I fucked up. You know. Once. With the only one that mattered. Sometimes you don't get second-chances, man." His serious tone faded though as his face contorted in a smile that didn't seem to stretch right across it as he said, "Unless you're like my Cana! No need for second-chances; she's all S-Class!"

"Yeah," Laxus snorted, "she just needed fourth and fifth and sixth-chances."

"What did you say? Eh? Laxus?"

And when Gildarts turned his head then, his face had contorted into something far darker and Laxus found it best to just sip his beer in silence for awhile.

They left together that night, Laxus and Mira did, the man a bit drunk and the woman, who'd worked the entire night away, stone cold sober, but it was fine, as she seemed high on something else.

"I'm so happy," she insisted to the man. "For Cana. It almost washes away how badly If eel for Elf."

Almost.

She was twirling and skipping that night, slightly before her boyfriend, and he only watched her for a few moments then before speaking.

"Maybe," he offered with a bit of a shrug, "he could come out with me. Elfman could. And we could train some times. To get him ready for next year."

And she stopped dancing then, Mira did, to look over her boyfriend as she instead flel into step with him. Slipping her arm into the crook of his, she snuggled up close to the man who, even drunk, only rolled his eyes.

"You're so sweet, Lax," she assured him as the man only groaned. "When you wanna be."

Even though his reaction seemed the exact opposite, slowly, Laxus was learning that, maybe, he always wanted to be.

#Miraxus #Mirajane Strauss #Laxus Dreyar #Cana Alberona #Gildarts #Freed Justine #Fairy Tail #Fanfiction

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unmaskedagain · 5 years

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Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance.

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

Not this time.

On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

They were not fine.

Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

Because everything was falling apart.

Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser. Everything would go perfectly.

…Everything went wrong.

They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

They were on their own.

Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

Marinette screamed.

They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

Marinette laughed.

She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

Marinette smirked.

Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

#ml salt #ml fic #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better

5K notes · View notes

2018shawn · 4 years

Text

no rain, no flowers | th

a/n: hi I bashed this out this afternoon idk it just happened lmao pls don’t read if sadness will trigger you in any way and i would like to say my inbox is always open for anyone feeling any form of emotion 💓 o yeh, i also wrote this on my phone so there's like no capitalisation lmao don’t come for me

warnings: urm SADness, angsty, breakup shit y’no.

word count: 2.5k

it wasn’t that you didn’t love your life, you just didn’t love your relationship with it. you knew, more than most, that without the rain, the flowers wouldn’t grow. but the rain came more often than not, and it would leave you feeling completely and utterly drenched with exhaustion, emptiness and everything in between. the days where there was a drought and flowers were blossoming with new petals were the great days. the days where you could just see flowers sprouting were the nice days. the days where the rain pushed the flowers back into the ground were the bad days. the days where it poured that hard the soil overfilled, and mud dispersed everywhere were the worst days.

and now metaphorically speaking, soil was scattered all around your feet, the rain threatening to lift it higher and higher as each minute passed by. the water in the kettle bubbled on the stove top, the gas giving a sense of warmth to the cold kitchen you stood in. london was rainy, and so was your mood. you’d spent 4 weeks and 2 days without your significant other being by your side, and more than ever, you needed him back. it wasn’t a case of wanting him, this time, it was simply and purely a necessity. of course, you couldn’t tell him this. you couldn’t let on that you needed him to come home. you could wait, you guessed, the press tours could not.

what you didn’t know, is halfway across europe, tom sensed every inch of your emotion. he nibbled at the inside of his cheek between each interview, made sure to send you a snapchat when he could get to his phone, even ordered a bunch of flowers to be delivered mid week. how ironic, you thought.

you didn’t knock tom’s boyfriend efforts, in fact, it was the complete opposite. and the more the whistle from the kettle spout screamed louder in front of you, the more you could hear it screaming for you get out. leave him. you’re not worthy. you didn’t even smile when those stupid red roses arrived perfectly displayed on your doorstep. he needed someone that squealed with excitement, someone that saw the good, instead of the bad.

pouring your tea, you ignored the ping of messages coming through to your phone, sighing and flicking the small side switch to silent. you wanted to be in a silent room, with your silent thoughts and silent mind. the cup of tea warmed your hands as your palms encased the ridiculously large, speckled mug. tom had bought you it because he’d never met anyone who loved cups of tea more than him until he met you. you’d lit the long burner, the sound of wood crackling and flames roaring soothing you somewhat, filling the space inbetween your quiet thoughts as you took small sips of your warm beverage. a single tear trickled down your cheek, landing on the blanket covering your lap, and you wondered if you were even worthy of being sat in this house. you and tom had bought it together 8 months ago, when there were enough flowers to fill a football field. month after month, the flowers died off, because you didn’t feel like home should be somewhere you didn’t feel good enough.

the sun had vanished when you woke, the window only displaying a dark view of stars and the illuminated streetlight outside your house. your neck was stiff and arm dead from the position you’d ended up in, blanket kicked to the floor and log burner burning a deep shade of amber as it began to die out. just like you’d fallen asleep with a tear escaping your duct, you’d woken up with it too. your heart was dull, aching with emptiness as your eyes wandered around your painfully empty house.

you slumped into the kitchen, placing your mug down on the kitchen counter with a clink in order to swap it for your phone. you had the usual messages from your friends, who were used to your 3-5 business days responses because you simply had to mentally prepare yourself. alongside those, were a bunch of missed calls and messages from tom and your heart felt like it was being twisted with a knife as you scrolled down the words he’d sent you.

hey bubby, todays finally finished woooo 🤟🏽 interviewer asked about you and it made me miss you more than i already do

which is a lot btw 🥺🌍

i miss eating your hair mask in the night

and how crispy it looks when you wake up 🙈

i’ll be home before you know it. i love you all the days 💙

there were more, but these were the ones which made you feel extra fuzzy inside. and despite that soft feeling, you sighed, trudging upstairs and ending up in your dressing room. he didn’t deserve this. although you loved him more than words could say, you knew you didn’t show it, no way near as much as you should. tom begged to differ; he knew you struggled. he entered the relationship knowing your mental health was knocked, barely any signs of bricks becoming stable enough to rebuild.

you pulled open the wardrobe door before pulling up your stool in order to reach the top shelf. the top shelf is where you kept all suitcases and overnight bags and because of tom’s hectic schedule, it was a good job the wardrobe was the entire length of the room because you’d have no where else to put them otherwise. there was an already empty gap from his own case like there had been for around a month. you pulled yours down, almost knocking yourself out in the process, before laying it on the floor and zipping it open. in the middle of the case was leaflets and brochures from your last holiday with tom; a water park map guide and sea life show programme. you remembered how happy you were that holiday, how you knew you’d found the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

the leaflets and brochures were soon covered by a selection of your clothes, ones you knew were necessary to take with you. when satisfied you had packed everything you needed clothes wise, you headed to the en suite bathroom, taking a couple of travel cases with you with intention of filling them all. you began by sorting through your skincare, picking the most staple pieces of your collection and leaving the ones you knew tom secretly liked to pamper himself with on a sunday.

a beckoning from a familiar voice startled you, the sound of keys dropping on the side amongst suitcase wheels dragging along the floor following the calls of your name. what, why, when, and how was he home? he wasn’t due home for another 2 weeks and he’d literally just been texting you from another country. or so you thought.

“baby? your car’s here?” he shouted, almost asking himself the question in confusion. you heard footsteps padding up the stairs as you froze, holding your half full toiletry bag in one hand and hairbrush in the other.

“i... i’m in here.” you spoke, unsure if he’d actually heard you. he immediately knew something was off from the quiver in your voice and the level of your tone. he instantly followed your sound, finding himself running through the doorway of your shared dressing room. until he saw. until he saw your almost packed suitcase of pretty much all your belongings. until he saw you through the gap of the bathroom door, another travel bag in hand. until he saw the expression on your face, a vision he’d never be able to erase. “you’re back?”

“bub, what’s going on? are you going away or something? i didn’t think your work trip was until next weekend?” he was confused, darting past your open suitcase and creaking open the door of the bathroom a little further.

“uh... it’s not. i just...” he walked up to you, thumbs delicately landing on your cheeks where they wiped away recent pools of tears. it was enough to stop you from speaking, breath hitching in your throat.

“what’s going on? i’m worried? you haven’t texted all day.” if that was why he’d come home, that was more reason for you to leave, you thought. tom couldn’t have someone that needed baby sitting. he couldn’t be flying home from important shit just because you hadn’t replied. all of this piled on top of the balance scales more, the side of pros to your relationship being sky high and unable to go any further.

“i’m sorry...” you breathed, feeling tears prick at your eyes almost straight away. he pulled you in, hand resting on the back of your head and soothingly stroking your hair as you blubbed into his chest, no concern for the growing wet patch near his collar bone.

“sorry for what my darling?” he spoke into your hair, the scent of your weekly hair mask filling his senses, making him sure you must’ve applied it last night. it was coconuty and tropical and was every bit as lovely as he’d describe you to be.

you pushed his chest away, feeling a sense of betrayal as you returned to filling your toiletry bag. his eyebrows furrowed, watching you frantically fill the bag with whatever you could, no obvious concern whether you were picking up his tootherbrush or yours. all you knew is you needed to get out of there as soon as possible. “i just, need to go.”

“go where?!” he almost shouted, clearly concerned with your sudden announcement.

“i don’t know yet. i’ll figure it out.”

he was confused and speechless. you had everything together, you had each other. it’s 2 years and 2 months since he’d first laid eyes on you and he’s regretted nothing since. but you? he figured you regretted something. the suitcase and frantic attitude were the biggest giveaways. he was in denial. surely not. you were only speaking to him 2 days ago on the phone laughing and singing about wedding songs. he hadn’t proposed yet, but boy, did he have big plans to. “what are you saying?”

“i’m saying...” you started, growing sick of wiping tears away from your eyes. he was a human barracade, but you managed to sneak round him and out of the bathroom, zipping up the small cases and putting them into your main suitcase. “i need to leave. i can’t do this.”

and those words there, shattered him into a million pieces. he’d never felt anything like it, he thought. sure, he’d lost people before. but you? you were not just people; you were his world, his life, his future. he tried to start a sentence several times, failing miserably each time as his mind blocked him from processes any full thoughts. “what... what do you mean? this?”

he followed you around the room and you only moved quicker, not wanting to get too close to his deep but inviting aftershave. “this, tom. us. it’s not right. i’m not right, well, not for you anyway.”

“what the fuck, y/n? where has this come from! if i’m away too much, tell me. if i’ve said something, tell me. if i’m bad at....”

“fuck, tom. it’s not you. it’s me.” it was so cliche, but so true. he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from wizzing around the room like a bee collecting pollen. your eyes just stared at his hand, unable to look up and look him dead in the eye.

“talk to me, darling, what’s really going on?” his grasp wasn’t harsh, you could have got out of it if you wanted to, but he guessed from the way you didn’t, you wanted to open up to him more than you thought you did. “hey...” he almost whispered, using his other hand to place his fingers under your chin, guiding your heavy head upwards until your eyes clicked. he could see pain. you could see confusion. you could do nothing but sob dramatically and you hated yourself for it. you thought you would have run out of tears by now, but from the way your legs buckled beneath you and your body curled up on the floor, you figured they were only just beginning. tom spoke reassuring words, you thought anyway, arms wrapping tightly around your shaking frame as he joint you on the carpeted floor. he rested his back against the wardrobe, pulling you further into him with no intentions of letting go. “shhh.. just breathe. breathe for me.” his palm was stroking up and down your back, his other hand taking yours, circling patterns on your skin with his thumb.

“i... i just can’t, tom. i’m pathetic. you don’t need me. you need someone who can cope with you being away. you need someone who can actually get out of bed in the morning feeling like a half decent human being. someone who can make you laugh just like you make me. someone who has got their fucking shit together.” you stuttered, through broken tears and strings of coughs. he pulled your head up, using a hand either side of your face to support you.

“don’t you dare. don’t you dare tell me i don’t need you. i don’t want to hear those words ever again. i don’t want to hear you say you’re pathetic. y/n, you’re... you’re my life. and no you might not be a half decent human being, but you’re so much more than that. you’re everything i want our children to grow up and be. although maybe i’d like them to be able to cook steak without over cooking it.” you couldn’t help but smile through the pain, remembering how many times tom had asked for medium rare and you’d served him a severely well-done sirloin. “your shit is my shit. and i know you struggle, but you gotta speak to me, baby girl. you’ve got to.”

you sighed, leaning into his palm for comfort more than anything. “you... i... i don’t deserve you.”

he felt guilty. more than ever. he meant what he said, he really did know you struggled but over the years you’d got so much better at putting on a front, pretending the world was all full of flowers when really, it was full of rain. he kicked himself for not seeing signs, for being the one not good enough for you, for letting you down and putting his career first yet again. “you deserve a million times better than me.”

his hands were snapped away from you as you stood, brushing your clothes and sighing deeply. you returned to your case, zipping it up fully and standing it upright with the handle extended. he shot up, racing over and putting his hand on the handle to drag it away from you. “no... please. don’t do this. we can talk, you can shout, you can scream, i can listen.” you tried pulling the case, but his strength was much higher than yours. you didn’t want to talk. you knew he would be better without you. you knew you was a burden. you tried tugging again, only to fail missrably and turn to face his desperate feautures and teary eyes. “please stay?”

taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @mendesficsxbombay @cosmicholland

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #boyfriend!tom #tom holland oneshot

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itsjackgilbert · 4 years

Text

Situation Comedy

INSCRUTABLE MUSIC-VIDEO GENIUS MAKES MOVIE. IT'S VERY GOOD. INSCRUTABLE FILMMAKER DOES MAGAZINE INTERVIEW. IT'S VERY BIZARRE. A VERY SMALL GLIMPSE INTO THE INSULAR WORLD OF SPIKE JONZE, WHERE MAKING AWESOMELY STRANGE FILMS, WEARING FAKE PENISES, AND GETTING BEAT UP (SORT OF) ALL ARE PART OF THE SCENERY

BY ZEV BOROW

"He came to visit me once and when he first arrived I got a phone call that I had to come pick him up because his car had been impounded because he'd been chased by, like, ten cops on bikes after he drove his car onto these little fairgrounds and did a bunch of doughnuts. So, then I had to drive him around all weekend." — Three Kings director David O. Russell

"Actors are more consistent. They tend to land their tricks." — filmmaker Spike Jonze, on who is easier to direct, actors or skaters.

"He wanted his brother to be in Three Kings, so he shot an audition tape with his brother doing the Sharon Stone role in Basic Instinct, crossing and uncrossing his legs. It was the weirdest fucking thing I've ever seen." — David O. Russell

I meet Spike Jonze at the production offices of his new movie, Being John Malkovich, which is a bizarre comedy about a love triangle between three people who find a secret portal into John Malkovich's head behind a file cabinet in an office building where the ceilings are four feet high. John Cusack and Cameron Diaz and Catherine Keener are in it. So is John Malkovich. It's really good and weird and funny, though not always in that order. Spike Jonze directed it.

Jonze is 29 years old and sort of famous for directing some of the best music videos ever made: the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage"; Fatboy Slim's "Praise You"; Weezer's "Buddy Holly"; Björk's "It's Oh So Quiet"; and other really good ones, too. He's also made some excellent commercials and two interesting short films. However, mostly because of the exceedingly cool videos he's done for, mostly, exceedingly cool people, Jonze has also become famous for being exceedingly cool. A wide and deep selection of the hippest people alive dig Jonze. They are his friends. This past July Jonze married actress, filmmaker, and fellow sort-of-famous person Sofia Coppola. Tom Waits sang at their wedding. Tom fucking Waits.

Jonze is small and wiry, with the body and demeanor of a skateboarder, which he is. He is relaxed, unfailingly polite, and has a voice suggesting a 15-year-old boy. When we meet he is wearing a T-shirt and scuffed-up $350 Marc Jacobs shoes. He tells me he's supposed to meet with Knox, an as-yet-unknown guitar player, to discuss ideas for his video and invites me along. But first we go to buy a big bag of cat food for his cat.

Jonze says Knox plays "sort of country-funkabilly-Prince-like music...really beautiful stuff." A friend gave him a tape, he says, and he fell in love with it. We get lost trying to find Knox's house.

When we finally arrive, Knox says he was asleep because Jonze was supposed to arrive hours ago. Jonze says he's sorry, that it must have been his assistant's fault. Knox is tall, with short, dark hair styled vaguely pompadour-ish. His apartment is small. Neil Young in on the CD player. An acoustic guitar rests in the corner.

"I'm the only one in the band, so I do the whole gig," Knox says. "My old man was a guitarist and my mother was, like...well, she was a capable pianist, not great. I'm from Tenness–Knoxville–that's why I go by Knox. My mother ahd a baby two years before me, a little boy, and it died at birth, and I am, like, the copy of that kid. And my little brother almost died at birth 'cause of me, so it's kind of all cyclical. But I'm still tweaking it. So, uh, what kind of ideas do you have?"

Jonze talks about making a video that's not very commercial, about something that's cool in and of itself.

Knox: "I just don't want it to be cute. Don't take this as an affront, but some of your videos are...cute. The 'Buddy Holly' thing was little fucking cute. I was thinking more of an early John Cugar-type of thing. Like 'Jack and Diane.' Maybe with some of the words on the bottom of the screen."

Jonze: "Uh, cool.... But it’s also cool to do something maybe not as literal.” He asks Knox if he wants to be in the video. Knox says maybe just his face, as a child.

Jonze says he could come over with a video camera and they could try some stuff out.

Knox: “Like what?”

Jonze: “Well, I don’t want to just throw stuff out.”

Knox: “Well, I’m not going to steal your stuff.”

Jonze laughs, sort of. There is an awkward silence.

Jonze: “How about a video with Xeroxes, just as a cool medium?”

Knox: “Yeah, well, that sounds schticky. Xeroxes are schticky.”

Jonze tries to say something about form. Knox says he likes “the Jazzercize” video Jonze did.

Jonze: “‘Praise you.’ Cool.”

Knox turns toward me and says he doesn’t think Spike looks very into it. Jonze says he doesn’t want to do anything he’s done already. He asks Knox if he saw the video he did for Sean Lennon.

Knox: “Nah. That guy’s too fuckin’ avant garde for me.”

Jonze: “No, I’m not saying that. It’s just I don’t want to make something silly out of your song, but at the same time....” He trails off.

There’s a tense silence, then Knox turns to me and asks if I have any ideas for videos. I tell him I don’t. Knox says “fuck,” loudly.

Jonze: “Look, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, and if you don’t really like my stuff maybe we shouldn’t work together. I like working with people who are....”

Knox: “Yeah, well...fuck.... Well, if you come up with some ideas, any ideas, call, but I just...shit.”

Jonze: “I should go.”

Jonze gets up. Knox begins to pace. Then he screams, “Fuck!” and throws a small wooden chair Jonze had been sitting on against the wall. It shatters.

Jonze: “Dude, chill.”

Knox: “I think you better leave!”

Jonze: “I was just....”

Knox: “Just fucking leave!”

Then Knox pushes Jonze into a wall, hard. I think to myself: Spike Jonze is about to get his ass kicked. Then, like a panther (or jaguar), Jonze jumps at Knox. They hit the floor. Jonze is on top of Knox, throwing punches at his head. After about 15 seconds, I pull them apart. Knox gets up and screams, “Wait right fucking there!” and runs into a back room. Jonze looks at me and says, “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” and runs out the door, fast.

Knox jumps out from the back room, glowering and holding a baseball bat.

DRIVING AWAY, JONZE MUSES ABOUT HOW “HECTIC” things got with Knox. He repeatedly pushes his face toward the rearview mirror and asks if I think his eye looks swollen. It doesn’t. He says nothing like that has ever happened to him before, except once “with Everlast, but it never got physical.” We pull into a 7-Eleven and he gets a juice and some Advil.

I try to ask some more questions about the movie. “I’m apprehensive about talking about it at all,” he says, “because I feel like it’s going to cloud someone’s opinion. You think about all the movies you had preconceived notions about, about all the ones you read stuff about until you were sick of them before you even saw them.

SPIKE JONZE’S REAL NAME IS ADAM SPIEGEL. He isn’t interested in talking about why, or when, he started going by Spike Jonze, or how much it has to do with Spike Jones, the 1940s band leader, but it’s probably related to the fact he grew up hanging out with a lot of competitive BMX bikers similarly fond of pseudonyms and alter egos. He was raised in Bethesda, Maryland, a well-heeled suburb of Washington, D.C., where his mother enjoyed photography and his father enjoyed being the scion of an extremely successful family-owned catalog company. Jonze is the middle child (younger brother; older sister) and was into skateboarding, photography, lots of Dischord-era punk rock, and, most of all, BMX.

In the mid-’80s, BMXing’s popularity was exploding, and Jonze was spending much of his time at Rockville BMX, a legendary retail and mail-order BMX shop in nearby Rockville, Maryland. At age 15, he accompanied the Haro pro-BMX team on a summer tour of the U.S., serving as part-time roadie, contest announcer, T-shirt salesperson, and using an old 35-millimeter camera, team photographer. By the time he was 16, he was writing and taking pictures for skate and bike magazines. At 17, immediately after finishing high school, he moved to Torrance, California, to work at Freestylin’, the sport’s preeminent glossy. There, he met Mark Lewman and Andy Jenkins, two kindred spirits.

“We were all living together in this apartment across the street from the magazine’s offices, in the Valley, which was like the epicenter of the skateboarding and BMX world,” says Lewman, who was 18 at the time and is now a creative director at Lambesis, a San Diego–based advertising agency that deciphers youth culture. “We’d skate to work, ride ramps, listen to Black Flag and Eric B. and Rakim, and get into adventures drinking Night Train, being weird, and stomping around downtown L.A.”

They’d also make zines. First, in 1991, Homeboy, then, two years later, Dirt. Clever and funny, they became popular with the 25-and-under, proto-extreme-sport, punk/rap-inclined hipster set. During this time, Jonze also started getting hired to take photos for magazines such as Details and Interview. And he began filming skateboarding videos, including one particular deft collaboration with ‘80s skate god Mark Gonzales titled Blind Skateboard Video.

One night, backstage at a Sonic Youth concert, Gonzales gave a copy of that tape to his friend Kim Gordon, who dug it so much that she asked Tamra Davis–who had just directed her first film, Gun Crazy, and had yet to become the wife of Beastie Boy Mike D.–to work with Jonze on shooting some skateboarding segments for Sonic Youth’s video for the song “100%.” He was 21.

Jonze has always lived in something of a rarefied world inhabited by bikers, skaters, emerging rock icons, and movie stars. Even so, he notes, he first met the Beastie Boys through his sister. She and Adam Yauch met in traffic school. The Beasties and Jonze share an appreciation for the absurd. Yauch and Jonze used to do things like rent police uniforms so they could direct traffic in Manhattan.

A few short years after “100%,” Jonze was established as America’s preeminent director of unusual music videos. This fact seemed to bore him. In 1998′s Fatboy Slim “Praise You” video, the one with the dancers in front of Mann’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, Jonze credited the direction to Richard Koufey and the Torrance Community Dancers. To this day, Jonze denies having been a part of it. Earlier this year, a typed letter arrived at the Spin offices vehemently demanding Spin retract its report that Jonze directed the video. It was signed Richard Koufey and included a detailed résumé for Koufey that stated he was a dancer in the “Thriller” video, the “Love Shack” video, the film Dirty Dancing, and something called “Dancextravaganza” at the opening of a Dellamo Fashion Center.

IN ADDITION TO BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, Jonze has another movie coming out, one in which he acts. It’s called Three Kings and was written and directed by David O’Russell. The two met when Jonze hired Russell to help him write a script for Harold and the Purple Crayon, which was to be a partially animated adaption of the children’s book, and Jonze’s feature-film debut, but never made it into production. Jonze costars in Three Kings with George Clooney, Ice Cube, and Mark Wahlberg. They play four U.S. soldiers who try to steal a secret cache of Kuwaiti gold at the end of the Gulf War. It’s a different, very sharp war-genre picture. Jonze plays a redneck private who is the sidekick of Wahlberg’s more seasoned soldier.

“I’d never really acted before,” Jonze says. “A few little things with friends, but nothing serious. And it’s not like I really want to get into acting. But David was really into me doing it, and Mark was especially supportive. In some ways I feel like I had no right to do it. But it was a lot of fun.”

Russell recalls Jonze’s commitment to the project. “He stayed in character a lot on set, and I think he eventually regretted it because Mark started beating the shit out of him as if Spike was really his tagalong sidekick. We tried telling Mark to go easy on him, but he was in character too. I think Spike was upset that that was happening.

AMONG THOSE IMMERSED IN THE CULT of Spike Jonze, the Weird Al prank is infamous. As partially recounted in an issue of the Beastie Boys’ zine, Grand Royal, Mike D. and Russell Simins, the drummer for Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, interviewed by Weird Al. During the interview, they got the conversation to come around to the Beatles. Precisely at that moment, they had Sean Lennon and Yoko Ono walk by and staged something weird and funny. No one at Grand Royal can remember exactly what happened, but it included Spike Jonze dressed up as a waiter.

I didn’t know of the Weird Al prank until weeks after meeting Jonze. As such, I spent a good portion of my evening immediately following the Knox vs. Jonze incident breathlessly telling friends all about their fight, until a friend, a longtime skater, looked at me and matter-of-factly said: “He staged it.”

Two days after the fight I go to meet Jonze for lunch, and, even though I’m not sure, I tell him I now that the afternoon with Knox was staged. Jonze demurs. “That would be gnarly” he says. “Maybe we should come back to this topic after lunch.

We pull into a Carl’s Jr. Things between us are slightly tense. I keep pressing him on the issue as we walk into the restaurant. Jonze doesn’t say anything until he’s just about to order at the counter, then he says we should walk outside. I follow him into the parking lot toward a parked black sedan. There is a guy in dark sunglasses sitting there, sipping on a Coke.

“Dude, it’s off,” Jonze says. “We’re busted.”

Jonze then reveals that he’d “planned something” for right there, right then, at the Carl’s Jr. We all had back inside the restaurant, where Jonze begins walking around the seating area and tapping on what appear to be lonely Carl’s Jr. diners on the shoulder. There are four of them, strategically placed; two have video cameras hidden on them, on has a regular camera. Two of them, including the guy from the car, who is Jeff Tremaine, the art director of the skateboarding magazine Big Brother, are wearing hidden microphones.

“This was going to be an all-out assault,” Tremaine says. “I was going to walk by and bump into Spike and my drink was going to fall all over me. And then I was going to get all jacked at Spike and knock some shit on him and get into a fight.”

“I was actually going to take a punch this time,” Jonze says, “but I was also going to bite down on some blood pellets.” He shows me two small capsules of fake blood. “I wanted the whole article to be about how I keep getting my ass kicked.”

“I was going to knock over the salad bar,” Tremaine says. “We were going to have the whole thing on tape. I twas going to be a turkey shoot, like Kennedy.”

“You are all extremely fucked up,” I tell them.

Jonze says he started planning for it late last night and tells everyone he’s sorry he didn’t go through with it. Tremaine tells Jonze that he was excited to punch him. Then, everyone tells me some stories of previous pranks, the best of which is described as simply the Hard-On One. It goes something like this:

The guy who played Knox yesterday–a friend of Jonze’s who also pulls stunts like getting himself hit by a car (for a Big Brother photo shoot) and shooting himself with a gun while wearing a bulletproof vest (for fun)–puts on a pair of flimsy gym shorts, out of which sticks a large, fake rubber penis. Then, he goes out and gets into a pickup basketball game. Next, he walks into a guitar store, where, when a salesman hands him a cord to plug in, the salesman is pulled toward the fake rubber penis. After that, he makes a quick stop at a karate studio, from which he is quickly removed. Finally, he goes to get measured for a tux, where, according to Jonze, the tailor exclaims [in a thick Indian accent], “What? You always run around with your dick sticking out?”

“It’s amazing,” Jonze says. “We’ve got the whole thing on tape.”

After Carl’s Jr., Spike lobbies me to concoct a wild, made-up story with him, one I could submit in lieu of the article. He’s got some funny, clever ideas for it, too.

“SPIKE DIDN’T GROW UP WATCHING A TON OF FILMS or even TV,” says Kim Gordon, who has known Spike ever since he worked on “100%.” “So he’s not tied to any sense of history image-wise, the way most people are. He just has a real instinctual feel for what people like. And he’s willing to try absolutely anything.”

“I think he kind of looks at everything like it’s a chance to take a golf cart and make it go 60 miles per hour,” says his old friend Lewman. “It’s always been about having a really good time.” Even so, by all accounts Jonze is meticulous, tireless even, whether it concerns a feature film, or taking down a Carl’s Jr. salad bar. His willingness to go to almost any lengths to maintain the integrity of any project–no matter how seemingly small, trivial, or twisted–is nothing short of spectacular. It is probably the one quality that best portends him making very good movies for a long time. A vast portion of Jonze’s creative energies are consumed by these tiny, hysterical performances that will never make any money, that are solely for the benefit of himself and his like-minded friends.

“But it’s not about being weird for weird’s sake,” Lewman says. “I mean, Malkovich is a movie that, at its heart, is about something everyone can relate to–desperately wanting to be someone else.... I think a lot of how [Jonze] looks at the world might come from skating and biking. You do that as a kid and you don’t look at things normally. You look at a hockey rink and see a place to skateboard. You look at a bench as a thing to do tricks off of.”

I SEE JONZE ONE MORE TIME. HE MAKES IT OBVIOUS he’d rather I not write about the Knox and Carl’s Jr. pranks. Further, he mostly turns off my tape recorder any time I start to ask him anything. He tells me he doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t want to come off as a guy who is lucky enough to make cool movies with big stars but is all petulant about talking to the press. He tells me again how anything he says as far as explanation of his own work is less interesting than someone’s own interpretation of his, or any, movie. About an hour passes. I ask him to name some of his favorite movies and filmmakers.

“I like stuff that is unpredictable in terms of tone,” he says. “I like Tim Burton, The World According to Garp, Being There, all the Coen brothers’ stuff. I feel really lucky to even have the opportunity to try to make those kinds of movies.”

I ask about his movie, about what Malkovich was like.

“He’s just amazing. Really genuinely eccentric. He heard about the script and contacted us, loved the idea. It was weird because he plays himself in the movie, but it’s not really him, it’s the script’s idea of him. Whenever I see him do the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment, I’m like, this guy is my hero.”

The Dance of Despair and Disillusionment is reason alone to see Being John Malkovich. In the movie, John Cusack plays a puppeteer who enters the body of John Malkovich and forces him to give up acting for puppeteering. At one point, Malkovich acts out the dance he wants to be his ultimate master-puppeteer work, the Dance of Despair and Disillusionment. Just out of the shower, he acts it out in a towel. David Fincher, the director of Seven and Fight Club, fellow former music-video director, and close friend of Jonze, calls it “up there with Butch and Sundance jumping off the cliff, as far as greatest movie moments ever go.”

I try to get Jonze to talk about other things, videos, his commercial work. (Jonze often shoots commercials, the most recent being Lee Jeans’ “Buddy Lee” spots.) He won’t. A few days later, we talk on the phone. He asks how I’ve decided to “handle” the article, says he knows I’ll write “something good.” The next day, I call him back, ask him to clear up some factual stuff, dates he worked on things, how he first met certain people. He’s not into it. But, before we get off the phone, he does answer one question.

Me: Where did the idea for the “Sabotage” video come from?

Jonze: “Australia.”

#spike jonze #spin magazine

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sh-rare-pair-exchange · 4 years

Text

As Time Would Have It

Based loosely on the events of the final episodes of season 1, the story follows the return of Lydia Branwell to the Institute of New York but this time she ends up enjoying her time there and surprisingly she discovers something worth staying around for. Well, someone...

Rare Pair: Lydia Branwell/ Isabelle Lightwood for @sh-rare-pair-exchange and dedicated to @sfjessii

Today was the day. Maryse had gathered them all late last night, only to inform them that the Clave had sent an envoy of Shadowhunters to stay in the Institute for a while, at least until the attacks instigated by Valentine subsided and Clary knew how to fight better. Isabelle had a feeling her mother knew more than she was telling them but when had that not been the case between them? She had made peace with that a long time ago, that’s why she was now walking the halls leading to the kitchen and pestering Alec for more information on the matter.

“Do we know at least who they are sending?” – Isabelle asked as she walked into the kitchen for a cup of black tea with Alec in tow.

“I only know that we’re getting a couple of additional Shadowhunters to deal with the increasing Downworlders attacks in New York.” – He said and moved to get a cup of coffee for himself.

“How long are they staying for?” – Izzy’s curiosity was one of the things that hadn’t changed since she was a little girl.

“Iz, I literally know what you know. Mom didn’t tell me anything more but until Clary is fully trained and ready, we can’t stand with our hands crossed and wait for the next attack. Valentine’s influence in growing with each day.” – Alec said and sipped from the steaming black liquid in his cup.

“And that is exactly why we’re accepting all the help we can get from the Clave.” – Maryse walked into the kitchen too, fixing her hair and making sure it was tightly gathered in a ponytail.

The opening of the heavy institute doors alerted them than the new arrivals were already here and Maryse ushered Isabelle and Alec out of the kitchen to meet the newcomers and see who their new teammate would be.

Time seemed to stop for a second when the Lighwood siblings saw the person standing in front of everyone else, black pants, tactical shoes and a light brown blazer, head standing high and with hair carefully braided there stood none other than Lydia Branwell.

It’s been a little over three months since the most disastrous wedding of the Shadow world, or at least since the infamous wedding ceremony of Alec Lightwood and Lydia. At first there were many shocked guests and Maryse had almost gotten a heart attack as she saw her son kissing Magnus Bane but now that she had seen how happy her boy is, she was glad he had the courage to stand up for his love.

“You have got to be kidding me.” – Alec murmured under his nose but tried to keep his expression neutral as Lydia approached them. Her stance was just as confident as before even if a tad stiff, her chin holding high but her eyes were filled with uncertainty. It was safe to say that she didn’t feel completely at ease standing there either.

“Maryse. Alec. Isabelle.” – Lydia acknowledged everyone with a curt nod of her head.

“Lydia, we’re happy to have you here. Things have been getting harder to manage with the increasing attacks.” – Maryse spoke first.

“You are all welcome to start patrolling with our teams, each of you has already been assigned to one so go find your teammates.” - She added and the rest of the newcomers scrambled already having heard their orders.

“Lydia you can leave your things and meet Alec and Isabelle here in twenty minutes, you are patrolling tonight.” – Maryse said to Lydia and turned around to go back to her own work, the Clave had sent them ten more people and they didn’t have any time to waste.

“Lydia, can we talk for a second?” – Alec asked, one of his hands rubbing his neck, Izzy could tell her brother was nervous but she got the hint and excused herself.

Seeing Lydia back in the Institute made Isabelle feel a little tense, she wasn’t her biggest fan but after she heard what the blonde said at her trial and the fact that she tried to stop it made her company a little less unpleasant.

Sparing her brother and Lydia one last glance before she went to the armory, Izzy saw Lydia saying something that made Alec let out a small smile and he extended his hand, shaking hers in return before they parted ways.

Their first mission with Lydia was a success, they managed to bring down the four demons without taking any major hits themselves. Lydia might not have been the most talkative person in the world, far from it in fact but it wasn’t as if Izzy and Alec had tried to maintain a conversation going either, the three fought well together and that was enough.

The first week went by quickly, doing most of the same stuff as before, train, patrol, sleep and repeat.

Usually, Alec spent every free moment he had with Magnus and when he stopped by the Institute, he wasn’t surprise to see Lydia training there now. Izzy opted to keep her distance but kept a close eye on Lydia, she hadn’t seen her talk much with her brother since the first day they saw each other again and most of the time they spent together they’d either train or discuss the plan for their next patrol.

Two weeks went by and Izzy could see that everyone still seemed to walk on eggshells around her, beside Alec and Magnus who were actually starting to warm up to her. Most people avoided her because they thought she’d kill them only with her glance and others were simply avoiding her because they knew she’d kick their asses on the training mat and wanted to avoid bruises. During that time,

Isabelle had been watching the blonde woman stick to her own for the entire time she’d been there, she trained on her own, ate on her own and even chilled in the garden on her own. The younger Lightwood was getting curious now and small part of her was starting to feel bad for Lydia. She was a good fighter, she’d even saved Izzy and Alec’s bacons a couple of times already and hadn’t mentioned it after that. It felt like they had fallen into a comfortable routine and their improvised team functioned well.

The fact that Lydia was strikingly beautiful was also a factor that made Izzy keep her distance from her, she didn’t want to complicate the situation even further so she pretended not to notice the glances she received from Lydia when the blonde thought that Izzy wasn’t looking at her. However, the younger Lightwood couldn’t help herself and one foggy Saturday morning she broke her resolve.

The Institute was almost empty, save for the two or three Shadowhunters left that were roaming the halls and the team that was patrolling the streets now, Alec had gone to Magnus’ and Clary was spending the weekend with Jace and Simon, trying to get them not to kill each other. Lydia was alone in the training room, she’d just finished punching the boxing bag and droplets of sweat were falling down the sides of her face. Izzy looked at her as she kicked and punched the bag, she could see the muscles flexing under her skin and Lydia’s focused expression, never breaking contact with her imaginary opponent. Izzy’s mind came up with a tempting idea and she made her way to the weapons rack and then to Lydia, holding steadily a staff in her hands.

“Come on, let’s see what you’ve got,” - Isabelle said as she threw a staff at Lydia, the challenge evident in her voice.

“Are you sure? I won’t go easy on you” - Lydia arched her eyebrow as she saw Izzy getting into position.

“I have no doubt about that but I assure you I can hold my own,” - Isabelle said with a smirk at the end and felt the snake unwrap from her wrist, transforming her electrum whip in a solid staff in the blink of an eye.

And so they began, no slow swings at the beginning like with Clary, no careful movements like with Alec, no time for hesitant attacks like with Jace... Lydia was uninterrupted, fierce chain of movement. She swung her staff over her head and managed to lend a quick hit on Isabelle’s cheek. For a split-second worry flashed in the blonde’s eyes but when she saw Izzy looking at her with fierce determination instead of anger and spite, her worried lessened. The next couple of minutes every attack was met with a block and Isabelle couldn’t help but smile as she finally found an opening and sharply thrusted the end of her staff into Lydia’s stomach, making her tumble backward in pain that only lasted a couple of moments.

“You’re better than I expected.” - Izzy said with another smug smile and watched Lydia regain her position.

“I can say the same thing for you.”- The blonde tried to sound menacing but it was a difficult task to achieve while admitting Izzy was an excellent fighter, perhaps even better than herself. Their rivalry seemed to have shifted into something else in nature.

Lydia was now standing in front of Isabelle, holding her staff in position, her feet began moving as she saw the younger Lightwood circle her. The blonde was the perfect image of control even now, composed and focused even though her breathing was fast and she already had several bruises forming on her skin. Isabelle couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over the blonde’s body, smirking as she saw the other woman struggling to keep her eyes from straying down her figure was well.

“You have a good balance but you cannot control everything.” – Izzy said as she attacked.

Lydia could feel the heat coming off in waves from Isabelle’s body standing so close to her, she could also smell the faint scent of orange blossoms that clang to Izzy’s hair. For a moment her mind got clouded and she missed the way Izzy’s lips curled up as she brought her foot between Lydia’s and sent them both tumbling to the ground. Knocking Lydia’s staff out of her hands, it landed on the other side of the training room, far from her reach as well and now the blonde found herself pinned to the ground with a smirking Isabelle Lightwood on top of her.

Even though Izzy was the shorter one out of the two of them, she held her tightly pinned to the ground now and her self-satisfied smile made Lydia wonder why she had wasted those two weeks until and hadn’t talked with Isabelle on the first day like she did with Alec. She wouldn’t say she and the older Lightwood were friends yet but they were getting there and at least things between them weren’t awkward anymore. Grabbing Lydia by the wrists, Izzy let the staff transform back to a bracelet around her own wrist.

“Do you yield?” – Izzy asked and tightened her grip just to convey her point.

“I don’t give up so easily.” – Lydia said and did something no Shadowhunter had ever tried before, a bold and daring move that nobody had tried in years. She started tickling Izzy and the woman quickly rolled aside and Lydia used the moment to turn their positions.

“That’s cheating!” – Isabelle managed to say between laughs.

“Everything is fair when you’re pinned to the ground.” – Lydia said and secured Izzy’s hand under her. Even though this had started as a fight, it quickly turned into something completely else, even though they’d both tried to actively stay away from each other when they weren’t patrolling, the tension that had now settled between them was too heavy to be ignored. Lydia’s ocean blue eyes were almost black, mirroring the desire that burned in Isabelle’s and their bodies were mere inches apart when Izzy felt the other woman’s erratic heartbeat and…

A loud clash came from the kitchen breaking the moment between them, it seemed Izzy wasn’t the only one that should be prohibited from entering that space without anyone keeping an eye on her, she had only caused a few minor fires anyway.

Lydia moved from on top of Izzy as if she had burned her, she should’ve just yielded when her back hit the ground and save herself from this torture. She quickly got to her feet and was ready to walk away, leaving a stunned Isabelle behind her when she heard Izzy calling after her but decided to ignore her.

“Lydia, wait!” – Isabelle jumped on her feet too and tried to stop the other woman but the blonde’s feet were moving quickly away from her.

Something cold and thin wrapped around Lydia’s wrist and when she brought her hand up to see what it was, she was both frustrated and surprised to see the end of Izzy’s whip coiled around her skin, enough pressure to only make her stop in her tracks as Isabelle approached her.

“You have been avoiding me ever since you came and when you finally talk to me you run away again, what is your problem?” – Izzy asked her, her dark brown eyes now filled with hurt.

“Oh, because you’ve been so welcoming Isabelle?” – Lydia asked rhetorically.

“I just…” – Izzy started but wasn’t sure where to actually start from.

“You know what forget it.” – She said and tried to end the conversation, this time it was she that was walking away.

“I didn’t want to make it weird okay?” – Lydia quickly answered frustrated and saw Isabelle stop and turn to look at her once more.

“Well, weirder at least.” – She added with a small voice and took a deep breath.

“I was the one that almost got you stripped of your runes and I know you didn’t like me before that either and now we were finally starting to work well together... I didn’t want to put at risk the way our team works.” – The blonde explained and saw Izzy cross her hands in front of her, this wasn’t her favorite subject to talk about but it was necessary.

“I saw you not only letting but also encouraging Alec to go with Magnus even though it meant destroying all your chances of leading this Institute and I also heard what you said at my hearing. I know now why you thought you were doing the right thing.” – Izzy admitted.

“Yeah well, turns out Alec wasn’t my type at all.” – Lydia said with a small shake of her head. She didn’t like having to talk about her feelings where everyone could hear her so she tried to deflect with dry humor and started walking away again.

Izzy could feel her heart beating rapidly now, she hadn’t been wrong after all, Lydia seemed to feel the same attraction as her so maybe it was time to clear the air between them once and for all. Swinging with her whip once more, Izzy tugged at Lydia’s arm until she was standing within reach again.

“Can you stop running away every time I try to tell you something or can you only talk to me while you’re on the stand?” – Izzy asked feigning frustration.

“Ugh! Do you expect me to write you a formal apology about that or…?” – Lydia was about to say something more when she felt Isabelle’s lips press against her.

The kiss was slow and hesitant at first but Lydia quickly snapped out of the surprised stupor and kissed her back, feeling Izzy smile against her.

“I expect you to stop brooding alone from now on and let me take you out tonight. It’s not our night to patrol so I can show you around the city and we can do more of this.” – Izzy said as she leaned in for another kiss.

“Deal.” – Lydia managed to say between kisses and felt Isabelle’s hands wrap around her middle, pulling her close. It was a little over three months and two weeks since the most disastrous wedding in the Shadow world and Lydia had never been happier.

#shrarepairexchange #shadowhunters #sh rare pair gift exchange #sfjessii #shrarepair2021

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no-name-mutt · 3 years

Text

And (Working Title)

Mostly unedited here. Probably many mistakes.

Ji-Woo Suzuki was six generations removed from her ancestor Shimazu Nariakira, a galvanizing feudal lord of Japan during the Meiji Restoration. Shimazu Nariakira’s most famous quote was words that Ji-Woo worked to install firmly into her life.

"if we take the initiative, we can dominate; if we do not, we will be dominated."

After years of war, scheming and destructive cajoling, Korea was annexed by Japan in 1910. Korea was considered a part of Japan until the end of WWII and subsequently, the fall of the Japanese Empire in 1945.

During this time, Ji-Woo’s great grandmother, Jeong-Ja was forcibly betrothed. Jeong-Ja (ji-young ja) was eleven years old. Jeong-Ja was arranged to marry Sora Nariakira. Sora abhorred the thought of marrying a Korean woman. Sora, as with most other Japanese people during this time, saw Koreans as second class citizens to the Japanese. In their marriage, Sora took every opportunity to order Jeong-Ja like a slave. One late night, Sora forced himself upon her and Jeong-Ja became pregnant.

A daughter was born, Hina Nariakira. While Korea was under Japanese control, it was initially illegal to change your name. As it were, Koreans that refused to change their names, were unable to enroll in school, receive mail or even receive meal rations. Eventually the colonial bureaucracy allowed the changing of names, and as much as 84% of Koreans changed their names. Speaking the Korean language was banned and Korean newspapers and printing houses were forced to close. Nearly 200,000 ancient and historical documents were burned. Korean youths were volunteered and conscripted into the Japanese army. Shinto shrines were built, and became places of forced worship. Japanese colonial policy became a clear policy of unlimited cultural erasure.

Hina attended school and became a voracious reader and journal keeper. Hina, as a product of her environment, became fluent in both Japanese and Korean. From an early age, it was evident that Hina was highly intelligent. Her vocabulary in both Korean and Japanese quickly surpassed Jeong-Ja’s and Sora’s respectively. Though Sora was quick to forbid speaking Korean in the household, Jeong-Ja taught her in private.

Sora frequently had Hina recite aloud his military orders. If there was ever a word that he didn’t understand, he would strike her. This was a sign to make the order as comprehensive as possible, though his reasoning was always, “Do not waste my time with pointless words!”

Life for Jeong-Ja and Hina was of unceasing malaise. Their only solace was in each other.

From reading Sora’s military orders, Hina became familiar with impending military movements, encampments and strategies. Hina learned of an upcoming landing of US Ships to discuss treaty possibilities. Hina devised a plan in which Jeong-Ja and her would flee their home to seek refuge with the US Navy. Somehow, discovering their plan, Sora attempted to stop the two from fleeing.

In a frenetic haste, Hina jumped on to Sora’s back, holding on to him with an arm around his neck. He drew his Manchukuo manufactured pistol, the Sugiura, and started firing wildly. Hina kept a dull pen-knife for protection and stabbed him three times in the chest, and twice in the neck. In a matter of seconds, Sora had fired every bullet in his pistol, one of which struck Jeong-ja in the head. She died instantly. Hina fled to the US Navy ship, covered in blood and alone.

The Korean peninsula has been in an imperial theater of war since the late 1800s. It remains a strong strategic naval position and is between three of the strongest and most hostile countries; Russia, China and Japan.

Hina found herself as a refugee, aboard a US battle cruiser. From Hina’s journal, we know that while aboard the ship, she was raped multiple times by a Japanese-American Navy captain. Hina became pregnant. Clinton James Suzuki was a rising star among the ranks and arranged his marriage with Hina. He thought that having a baby out of wedlock would be detrimental to his military career. Hesitant, and silently unwilling, Hina agreed to the marriage. Through this, Hina became a US citizen.The wedding was expedited and facilitated onboard the cruiser. As her belly grew, so did her hatred for Clinton Suzuki.

Hina silently imagined his death in whatever setting they found themselves in. If he choked while eating, she wouldn’t save him. If he had fallen overboard, she wouldn’t call for help. If he slipped and fell down the stairs, she would elect to simply walk away. When the two arrived back in the US, there was to be a Navy welcoming parade in port. All of the seamen were to be standing with their wives (if they were married) on the dock as the Navy cruisers came back to port. Though Hina’s husband would have preferred to not be seen with his very young and very pregnant immigrant wife, he thought it would be a great opportunity to rub shoulders with those higher in command.

As the ship was coming into port, the anchor was dropped, and four inch thick mooring lines were lashed from the anchor to the ship to the dock. Hina’s husband was the first one out on the dock behind the commanding officers, hoping that it would impress a lieutenant, admiral or anyone with any sort of authority. She happily let him stand as far away as possible from her.

As the last mooring line was being lashed, a massive and potent rogue wave rocked the ship, and snapped the thick cable. The cable whipped downward and cut him cleanly in half from the right collar bone, down through the groin. His body fell apart like a sliced melon. Hina was silently imagining him drowning in the bay, but she never could have envisioned that. For a second she was stunned, and then started to laugh hysterically. She was finally free.

Hina easily found translator work. Although Hina adhered to strict ideals of frugality, she made enough as a single mother to comfortably support her newborn son Kaito Suzuki. Kaito Suzuki stood an average five foot nine inches. His hair was short, poofy, and straw like. His arms and legs were thin and underdeveloped, though his torso was somehow, rather round. Kaito had a round face, unremitting acne and eyebrows in need of a good trimming. He attended public school. He was unremarkably below average. He found little interest in extracurricular sports and clubs; instead, he spent most of his time skipping class, smoking pot and hanging out with his like-minded friends. After barely graduating high school, Kaito was given an ultimatum, either find work or attend college. In the end, Kaito decided to move out of his mother’s house and found work as a second shift janitor at night and weekend garbage collector.

Kaito Suzuki and Ji-Woo I(the first) first met when she decided to stay late at the commercial real estate office where she worked. Kaito was just starting his shift, starting by collecting the garbage around the office. Ji-Woo I was a quiet, mild mannered individual. She came from a good home and an affluent community. Ji-Woo I was going through a “rebellious” phase and began making a flurry of short-sighted decisions all revolving around Kaito. The two developed addictions to different drugs and made small time scams in order to fund these new habits. Ji-Woo I unexpectedly became pregnant. The night they found out, Kaito grabbed her car keys and said he was going out for cigarettes and never returned. Hina was the only person in the delivery room when the daughter was born. Ji-Woo I was emotionless. She stared emptily at the crying newborn girl. Ji-Woo I looked to Hina in silent disdain. Hina nodded in affirmation. When Ji-Woo I was released from the hospital, Hina drove her to the airport and handed her some money. Neither Hina nor the newborn baby girl ever saw her again.

Hina decided to name the baby Ji-Woo II, after her mother. (Whom despite the situation, actually quite liked.)

As a baby, she cried constantly. Even in sleep, she murmured and wept in unsilence. Ji-Woo would stop crying only momentarily if she were fed pureed sweet potatoes or ripe apricots.

When Ji-Woo was six months old, she stopped breathing for nearly two minutes. Hina panicked, rushed to the emergency room. But by the time Hina arrived at the the hospital and Ji-Woo was breathing again and after that point, Ji-Woo never cried again. It’s as if she were an entirely different baby. Ji-Woo excelled in school and surpassed all of those around her. She had few friends throughout her youth. It wasn’t until her mid twenties when she learned how to simply “get along” with those around her.

Ji-Woo took a master’s degree in Japanese History. Then continued on to get a doctorate in Korean History. After a few bored years of teaching, Ji-Woo left to attend law school.

Everything about Ji-Woo was professional. Her skin was fine, with a healthy touch of melanin. She had high cheekbones and slightly sunken cheeks. A slightly upturned, pointed nose, symmetrical eyebrows. A single asymmetrically placed mole populated her face. She was beautiful. Equally strong and delicate, like the skeletal system of a great predatory bird. Her hair was long, to her lower back, though it was always pulled taut into a perfect braid. She wore simple, gold Tiffany earrings. She purchased them for herself. Ji-Woo’s wardrobe consisted mostly of well-fitting dress suits that obeyed her movements like a harshly conditioned army. There was never a loose thread out of place. Not even so much as a single piece of lint dared to adhere itself to her. She had an athletic, hidden, muscular build that I couldn’t help but to admire.

As a lawyer, Ji-Woo was ruthless. She constructed such pithy arguments, the opposition was often left speechless. And on a few occasions they were left literally stammering. Ever professional, Ji-Woo never showed any form of celebration or elation in victory. She spoke clearly, with seriousness and a dose of harnessed emphasis. Ji-Woo’s days were neither ‘good days’ nor ‘bad days’. She took on the day’s obstacles as if she had rehearsed them wholly the day before (though probably didn’t need it.).

The first time that I saw Ji-Woo Suzuki I was somehow dragged into a meeting of which I had no reason for being in attendance. I was struck by her. Though I prayed I could stay hidden, as a fly on the wall. Ji-Woo Suzuki led a team of class-action specific lawyers. Without ever speaking with her, one would simply assume she was the unquestionable leader. Only after an introduction, Ji-Woo Suzuki would offer to call her “Ji”, as a favor to you. It was not uncommon for people to reply to this offer by thanking her. Though, they were often left deciding whether to continue calling her Ji-Woo out of respect or interpreting her offer as an order. Most people continued to call her Ji-Woo or Ms. Suzuki.

I was staring at her. She was unpacking her case notes. People in the room started conversing. She uncapped a Montblanc rollerball and began to write. Just then, she stopped writing, wrinkled her brow in confusion and looked up directly at me as if to ask, “Who are you, and why are you here?” Her look was sharp, piercing but gentle. A needle and thread.

She looked right through me. And that was the first time I knew,

I was going to marry Ji-Woo Suzuki.

The meeting must have ended. I assumed so because the room had started to clear out. I hadn’t really been paying attention, not that I should have been. I wasn’t even supposed to be there in the first place!

I pretended to collect my things slowly trying to match Ji-Woo’s pace so we could incidentally leave the conference room at the same time. This was quite difficult because I had no belongings to pack up, nor a briefcase to put them in. So I took out my phone from my pocket and pretended to reply to an email. I looked up again and she was already pushing her chair in (when did that happen?!). She moved with intent. I hurriedly shoved my phone into my pocket and jumped up to meet her in the doorway.

“Hi”, I said, giving my best impression of someone far more casual than myself.

Ji looked at me quizzically, replied dryly with “Hello” and continued past me. Just like a fighter-jet breaking the sound barrier, she was gone, leaving only a potent echo. I must’ve blacked out, because the next thing I knew, she was already halfway down the hall. A paper came loose from her briefcase and she didn’t seem to notice.

This

was

chance.

I fast-walked down the hall as coolly as possible, “hey wait!” I called out. But she was already rounding the corner down the hall. I picked up the piece of paper, in perfect cursive writing it read,

I see you, do you see me?

5:00pm

My temple wrinkled in confusion. I looked up again and she was gone. The heart in my chest reminded me of its presence with a mighty thump. I felt myself sweat. Was this meant for me to find? I returned to the copy room and returned to my work.

But all I could think of was one Miss Ji-Woo Suzuki. One moment she was there, and then she was not.

In the periphery,

of where I wanted to be.

I felt invigorated. Anxious and curious.

Piqued.

I got back to the copy room and looked at my digital casio watch, 2:04pm.

My inbox of “to be copied” was now spilling out. I assumed position in front of the plastic, off-white monstrosity.

First, I’ll take the source material in my left hand! Then! I read the copy instructions and made the proper adjustments and number of copies. After the copies were completed I placed a single paper clip on the ream and set it in the pick up box. Organized alphabetically. To most people, the job would seem boring, though I would argue that there are quite a lot of nuances to it. For example: Eighteen copies of pages one through three, six copies of pages four through ten, and that’s an easy one.

A page goes in, the scanning light travels from right to left, and left to right, pages come out. I know the machine inside and out. I know because I have had to take it apart and reassemble it, not without hiccups, of course. I went home that day with a black ink stain on my chest. Like I was blasted by a shotgun, and bled black. The skin on my belly was still stained where the ink and bled through the shirt.

Occasionally pieces of dust or folded paper would cast a shadow on the rest of the page. It caused a ghastly, black, pixelated shadow to print on the copies. Sometimes the shadowed copies were fine to pass along, sometimes, they were better discarded.

At five pm, I stood outside of Ji-Woo’s office. I was nervous to enter. She sat behind a sleek mid-century desk with her legs folded. Her slate gray dress suit and Mac Pro reminded me of a brutalist era sculpture I saw once as a teenager. I didn’t understand the sculpture then, though maybe I do now.

She had nice legs, I absolutely understood that. I caught glimpses of her toned calf muscles through the gap of her desk as I paced as casually as possible in front of the open doorway.

After a few paces back and forth, I heard her call out to me, “You can come in, you know.” I froze. Then somehow came to find myself sitting in the chair across from hers. The desk remained between us. I didn’t know what to say, at that moment, I couldn’t be sure if I knew how to speak.

“I noticed you today in the Carter vs. Amadeo-Hastings meeting.” She said.

“No… I mean, yes, I was there. Just trying to learn what it’s all about.” Do you think she bought it?

“Are you interested in practicing law?”

“Uhm, yeah, interested? Definitely.”

I actually had only worked at the office for about a month. I was still fairly unclear on what business the office conducted, let alone the ‘partners’. Before, I worked at the busiest copy center in Seattle. I got let go after I yelled at a customer, “Stop breaking my shit!” and in my defense, they were going to break the

Konica Minolta c754e! Those things aren’t cheap, and the replacement parts take three weeks to get to the states.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?” She asked.

I felt a draft in the back of my agape mouth. Ji-Woo liked a breeze in the office. I found that out later that night when she told me at dinner.

We continued to see each other after work every Tuesday and during the day on Saturday. This was when Ji-Woo allowed herself recreational time. I learned a lot about Ji-Woo’s schedule during this initial period of dating. I found her structure and stoicism quite sexy. She made all of the reservations at restaurants. And not just nice restaurants, she even made reservations for tacky hole-in-the-wall places that she knew I would like. A few times she would order for me. Like a mind reader, she would always order exactly what I wanted yet never in a demeaning way. She seemed to know exactly when I wanted to speak for myself and when I was comfortable with her ordering for me.

After about a month, midday on a Friday, she sent me an email. The subject line simply read,

“Tomorrow Night 4/16/2019”

Hi Kentaro,

Please meet me at my house tomorrow night at 6:00pm. We’ll go to dinner. I’ve made reservations at 7:30. Casual attire.

This was more or less the usual date query. Though, interestingly, she signed it at just Ji. Futhermore, she would usually ask to meet at six with reservations about the time it took to get to the restaurant. Surely we weren’t going somewhere that was an hour and a half away.

That night, I was talking to an old friend of mine, Leo, on the phone. I was telling him about Ji-Woo and I. About how I eagerly awaited those Tuesdays and Saturdays. And about the one time I asked her out on a whim on a Friday night. She declined. I was upset for a while. But respected her need for personal space, and strict schedule. “It’s just how she is”.

I told Leo that we hadn’t had sex. “That’s good dude, she’s probably a Sazae Oni” he replied sarcastically. I didn’t understand his reference, but as his tone implied, it was a snide comment I’d best ignore... but didn’t.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked sharply.

“Sa-zae Oh-ni!” He said louder and slower in syllables, as if it were common knowledge. He continued, “They’re these folk tale snail mermaids that preyed on Japanese pirates. They would pretend to be in distress, but when the pirates brought them onboard, the sazae oni would chop off their balls and hold them ransom for gold. They’re like, obsessed with gold or something.” A weird silence filled the phone line as I looked around the room, waiting for him to finish.

He started again, “ok, it doesn’t matter. You’re the Japanese one, should you know what a sazae oni is?”

I held my lips taught, annoyedly.

“Well, is she someone you’d bring home to meet your mother?” He asked me. I thought about this for a while. I imagined a cartoon caricature version of my mother asking me, “Why would you want to be with someone that is so serious all the time?”

Up until this point I had never even seen the inside of her apartment. Whenever I was to meet her there, she would already be outside the gate waiting for me.

That Saturday night I took a cab to her apartment building as I usually did. It started to rain on the way over and fog grew in density the closer I got to the apartment. I didn’t check the forecast beforehand, and I didn’t have an umbrella. I arrived at the gate and Ji-Woo wasn’t around. I checked my phone for any missed messages from her, but there were none.

I buzzed her intercom. “Hi, I’m here. Are you there?”

“Still getting ready, come up.”

She buzzed me in. This was it, I was finally going to see where(and how!) she lived. 6th Floor, apartment 6F. Embarrassingly, I panted a bit when I got to her floor. I stood on her doormat, it said ‘Welcome’. I was slightly damp, everywhere. I wore an old grey knit sweater. I had washed it so many times the collar was getting tiny holes. Faded blue jeans and shabby sneakers. I checked my casio, 6:00pm exactly. “Yes! Perfect timing” I exclaimed silently as I clenched my fist in victory, then knocked on the door insouciantly. “Come in!”, I could hear Ji-Woo shout from behind the door. I opened the door, slowly. I floated in like an astronaut, opening the hatch to an alien planet. I opened it to a small foyer. There was a modern-looking coat rack which I hung my soggy jacket on. To the right was an inviting, lamp-lit living room. There was one of those long arched floor lamps spilling its light on an Eames Lounge chair. I imagined Ji-woo perched on it, with a warm beverage, reading a dense book. Floor to ceiling bookshelves and floor to ceiling windows lined the rest of the room, I realized it was a top floor corner apartment. Black and white photographs and pen drawings hung on the wall. There were blankets draped on the modern couches. It felt uncharacteristically cozy. The furniture all flowed perfectly, like it was a team of designers’ life’s work.

On the left there was another closet. Then further down, it opened up to the dining room. “In here” She shouted, from that direction.

I kicked off my tattered sneakers and the uppers deflated like popped balloons. I took one step toward the kitchen and I was struck with the most extraordinary smell. It was rich, minerally and spicy. I let my nose lead the way.

She stood at the stove. She was wearing a loose knit navy sweater that was well loved and jeans. Her sleeves were pushed up. She was wearing a nice apron. Her hair was pulled back, not in a braid, but in a perfectly round bun.

The dining table was set for two. Plates, silverware, a wine glass for her and a beer glass for me. There were two candles and a decorative bowl. The bowl was filled with some unknown liquid that looked like molten gold. I wanted to stick my finger in it but didn’t.

She turned and saw me, and I saw her. “I didn’t mean that casual.” she said jokingly. Lately she has been making more and more jokes, but only during our dates. It was comfortable, and usually pretty funny.

“It smells so good, what is it?” I said. I walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter by the stove. She leaned over and planted a kiss on my lips. I was so surprised that it was over before I could react. There was a battle in my head between the heavenly smelling food and the thought of the kiss.

“It’s almost ready. Get us drinks from the fridge.” She instructed me. The fridge was filled with different sized glass containers. They all stacked neatly, each with a label of what it was and a date. There was a bottle of white wine and a fancy looking beer with today’s date. I took them from the fridge and opened them. She looked as though she were a professional chef. She moved with tempered urgency and precision. “Budae-Jjigae. Budae is ‘army’ or ‘army base’, jjigae is ‘stew’. It’s a recipe my grandmother taught me... a long time ago.” She stopped what she was doing and looked off into space.

A few seconds later, she regained consciousness from her memory and started to plate the food. It was finished.

It was delicious. It was perfect. It was obvious that Ji-Woo had made this dish many times and was able to recreate it perfectly. “How many other romantic interests had she made this for?” I wondered, but quickly spurned the thought. I wasn’t shy, and got a hearty second helping.

I wiped my mouth and leaned back in my chair, and polished off the last of my beer. I wanted badly to unbutton my pants and relieve the pressure on my waistband. Instead, we got up and cleaned the kitchen together.

Later on, we found each other on the sofa near the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. I was elated. Warm, with a full belly. Calm, sleepy, but present, I closed my eyes and relished.

“Do not fall asleep.”

Ji-Woo instructed me. “I will be right back.” She said.

Insubordinately, I was falling asleep when from down the hall, I heard her call me, “Come here, I need to show you something.” I sleepily approached the room at the end of the hall. A bedroom. As I got closer to the doorway, I could see a mirror’s reflection in the bedroom. It truly was a bed-room. A queen size mattress and two small side tables with lamps were the only furniture. Warm, golden light spilled out of the bedside lamps that reflected off the polished hardwood floors and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. A single, brand new candle was lit on the nightstand. But there was no lighter or matches anywhere. How was it lit?

Ji-Woo lay on the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Her right arm supported her posture. Her hair was down. It was now I could fully realize the length and volume of her hair. It flowed down her back and fanned out perfectly behind her like a ginkgo leaf. The low lighting in the room accented her dark makeup. Her eyeshadow shimmered subtly.

She was wearing a lacy bodysuit of lingerie so scant, it could hardly be described as clothing. A lacy and delicate fabric choker connected to thin straps perfectly obfuscated her nipples. Ethereal panties suspend a pair of elegant garters. The fabric adhered to her slender, toned body as if it were made custom.

She eyed me fervently,

And I was very awake then.

After it was over I felt euphoric and peaceful,

Unburdened.

I turned over, towards her in bed.

I put my head on her chest.

And I heard nothing.

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cali-holland · 5 years

Text

Favors- Shawn Mendes One Shot

Pairing: Shawn Mendes X Reader

Prompt: Your cousin’s wedding means you’ll have to see your ex again. After hearing he’s got himself a new girl, you’re desperate to get revenge.

Word Count: 3000

Tag List: @cutefluffy89 @ria132love @peterparkyourassonme

Masterlist Shawn Mendes Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

~~~

“Are you serious right now?” You asked your sister as she talked to you over the phone.

“Yes, Luke’s got a new girlfriend, so you have to bring a date.” She said, “And mom already said that you were bringing a plus one.”

“I don’t have any time to find a date!” You exclaimed, “The wedding’s a week away.”

“So that’s still a few days to find someone. Look, find a hot guy on the street and use him, or even use your boss.” She teased.

“For the last time, I am most certainly not doing that.” You said. You let out a sigh as you saw your boss coming down the hall towards you, it was as if she spoke him into being, “Look, I have to go. Bye.”

“Why the long face?” Shawn asked with a kind smile on his face.

“Can I get next weekend off? My cousin is getting married, and apparently my mom already rsvped me.” You explained, almost sheepishly.

“Of course, you know that we’re done in a few days, right? I don’t really need an assistant tour manager when I’m not on tour.” He joked, casually sitting down on the couch beside you, “But why are you really looking so glum?”

“Well, if you must know, my cousin happens to be marrying my ex’s brother, so he’s going to be at the wedding with my replacement and I just really don’t want to see him.” You stated simply, “Besides, my mom even signed me up to have a plus one and I have no one to go with me. I’ll be showing up alone, and my ex gets to rub it in.”

“What if you didn’t go alone?” Shawn suggested, placing his arm on the back of the couch so that his hand was near your head. “What if I went with you?”

“You’d be my date?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yeah, I bet me as your date would definitely beat whoever he has.”

“Wow, way to be so self-centered.” You teased, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

“It’ll be fun, plus I’ve got nothing better to do next weekend.” He said, scooting a bit closer to you, “What do you think?”

“I think you’re absolutely crazy,” You laughed, “But I am desperate for a date, so you’ll have to do.”

“So, where is this wedding?”

~~~

“My sister’s not going to believe this.” You told Shawn as you two walked through the airport with your luggage.

“Why? Doesn’t she know you work for me?” He asked.

“Yes, but she told me I should take you as my date, as a joke, so I’m just waiting for her reaction when she actually realizes I brought you.”

“Didn’t you tell anyone that I’d be coming?”

“I told my family that I was bringing a date home with me. They just don’t know who.”

“I bet they think you’re lying about it.” Shawn teased you as you stepped through the exit door.

“Oh, absolutely they think that.” You laughed. Your eyes landed on the familiar faces of your sister, and your cousin.

“Oh my god, you did not.” Your sister exclaimed as she gave you a hug.

“I told you I had a date.” You replied. You stepped back from her embrace to introduce Shawn, “This is my sister and my cousin.”

“Hi, I’m Shawn, Y/N’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” He smiled, shaking their hands politely. He acted so nonchalant about the whole thing and you tried to wrap your head around what he’d said.

“I didn’t know about a boyfriend.” Your cousin looked at you skeptically.

“We just don’t want the press knowing. We can’t be too handsy in public.” Shawn said. You two had barely talked about your family, let alone how he would be perceived by everyone. You thought his intentions were to make you look better than your ex, not for him to parade around as your boyfriend for the weekend.

“About time she moved on.” Your sister teased, helping you grab your luggage to put in the car.

When you sat in the back of the car beside Shawn, you leaned over to talk to him while your family was distracted.

“What was that about?” You asked quietly.

“Well, you want to one-up your ex, yeah? Why don’t you show him what a great rebound you got, since apparently you haven’t moved on?” He smirked, referring back to your sister’s words.

“I’m sorry I’m slow.” You replied and he let out a laugh.

The rest of the car ride was filled with your sister asking you and Shawn questions about your relationship. Shawn answered most of the questions, even going as far as physically holding your hand in his. It was nice to feel special because of him, but something didn’t sit right with you. He was your boss essentially, and he was someone that you completely admired, but it felt strange to be having him act as your boyfriend- of one month, according to Shawn.

Arriving at your parents’ house, you and Shawn unloaded your bags and headed inside, to where your parents greeted you.

“You did really bring a date.” Your mom smiled over at Shawn.

“He’s actually her boyfriend.” Your sister told her, fully falling for his story.

“Now I’m really surprised.” She joked and then introduced herself to Shawn.

“Mom, can we go put our stuff down?” You asked, before she could pull him away to another conversation.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Is it okay for Shawn to stay in the guest room?” You added and she let out a surprised laugh.

“Did you forget that it’s an office now?” She replied, “Shawn can stay in your room with you, we don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Shawn said kindly as your mind couldn’t think of any words to speak. Wordlessly, you went upstairs to your room and Shawn followed behind you.

“I swear it was a guest bedroom a month ago.” You stated, setting your bags down by your dresser.

“It’s fine, Y/N.” He laughed, placing his bags beside yours.

“I can sleep on the floor so we don’t have to share a bed.” You suggested.

“It’s literally a queen size, we can share it. Besides, what if I get cold at night and need a snuggle buddy?” Shawn gave you a cheeky smile.

“Well, damn, guess you need to get a pillow.” You said. He playfully grabbed your waist and pulled you into him.

“I think you’ll make a good snuggle buddy.” He winked at you, making you blush.

“Y/N, mom made dinner.” Your sister said, stopping in your doorway. She glanced down to where Shawn’s hands rested on your hips and pulled away from him.

“Okay, we’ll be down in a second.” You stated as she walked away.

“Gotta get used to this, babe. We’re dating now, remember?” Shawn teased you and you let out a small sigh. You were in for a long weekend.

~~~

That night, you found yourself awkwardly laying to the far left side of your bed, wanting to give Shawn his own personal space. He finished up in the bathroom and walked into your room wearing loose sweatpants and a t-shirt.

“Is it alright if I ditch the shirt?” He asked you and you turned to face him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind.” You said. You tried not to make it obvious as you watched him remove the t-shirt, but you couldn’t help it- he was just so perfectly sculpted. Sure, you had seen him briefly shirtless before because of the tour, but it was never so intimate like this.

“Like what you see?” He joked, settling into the right side of the bed.

“Maybe.” You replied, switching back to your original position where you weren’t facing him.

“Good night, Y/N.” Shawn said softly.

“Good night.” You answered, hearing him shuffle a bit under the blankets before settling on a position. After a moment of silence, you felt him shift closer to you.

“I’m cold.” He stated and you rolled back over to look at him. He stared at you with his best puppy dog eyes. You sighed before snuggling closer to him under the blankets. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Much better.” You could practically hear the triumphant grin in his voice as he spoke- he had won this time.

~~~

You woke up the next morning to your alarm going off. You blindly reached for your phone when you found yourself stuck in the bed. You then remembered the position you had let yourself get into last night as your back was pulled against Shawn’s bare chest and his arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“What time is it?” Shawn mumbled as you removed his arms from around you, trying to completely ignore how you ended up being his actual snuggle buddy.

“Time to get up. We’ve got a wedding to get to.” You said, turning off your alarm and climbing out of your bed. You looked over at Shawn while he yawned. His curly hair was a mess and his legs were sprawled out on the bed. The blankets were all over the place, and now you regretted having to make your bed in the future.

“You wanna shower first or should I?” He asked. He sat up and stretched as the blankets fell from him, completely exposing his toned, bare chest.

“I’ll go first- I take longer.” You stated. You gathered your things and left for the bathroom.

After that, you hadn’t seen Shawn much. He was off eating breakfast when you went back to your room, and then he immediately went to shower.

“Y/N? Can I come in?” Shawn asked you as he knocked on your door. You overlooked your makeup in your vanity one last time before responding.

“Yeah, it’s unlocked.” You answered, standing up from the chair.

When Shawn entered the room, his jaw dropped from seeing you. You let out a small laugh.

“You’ll catch flies.” You joked, and then took a moment to check him out in his black suit, “You don’t look too bad either.”

“You- you look- wow.” He was at a loss for words, which made you blush.

“I’ve got to one up my cousin, right?” You said, smoothing out your red dress, “I call this my revenge dress.”

“Revenge looks beautiful on you.” He finally managed to squeak out, his voice sounding nervous as he spoke.

“Thank you.” You smiled, “Are you almost ready to go?”

~~~

You never thought you’d be the type of girl to steal the bride’s spotlight on the big day, but, honestly, she wasn’t your favorite cousin and she knew exactly what she was doing when she invited you and your ex. Naturally then, walking into her reception hand-in-hand with the Shawn Mendes was the ultimate power move for you.

“You look stunning, did I tell you that?” Shawn whispered in your ear as he pulled out a chair for you.

“You’ve said that a lot recently, yes.” You replied. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down right next to you.

“So, where is this Luke?” Shawn asked, looking around the room as guests filled in. Everyone was still waiting for the bride and groom’s big entrance into the reception.

“That’s him. The blond with the blue tie.” You said, glancing over at him. He stood with his new girlfriend, talking to some of his family members.

“Eh, I can take him.” He teased with a shrug.

“Shawn, no.” You replied, shaking your head at him.

“Y/N, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Luke said, making his way over to you.

“And why wouldn’t I be at my cousin’s wedding?” You asked with a fake smile on your face.

“I thought you were too busy with work.” He replied, before turning to his girlfriend, “This Lily, my girlfriend.”

“Nice to meet you, Lily.” You answered, “This is Shawn, my boyfriend, but I think you already knew who he was.” As Luke looked over at Shawn, you saw the color drain from his face.

“Hi,” Shawn said, shaking your ex’s hand politely. Bringing his hand back down, he casually placed it on your thigh.

“Well, we should get going. They’re about to come in.” Luke stated, taking Lily’s hand and pulling her away.

“I think you won.” Shawn smiled at you.

“Yes, thank you for that.” You replied. You glanced down to where his hand rested, and he quickly moved it, blushing slightly from the mistake.

The next hour or so was making small conversation with Shawn and the few other guests at your table as the wedding party arrived and food was served. As they announced the first dance, you watched your cousin in pure happiness. A few other couples, including Luke and his new girl, stood up to dance as well. You felt a hand fall on yours and you looked over to see Shawn already staring at you.

“Want to dance? Give them something to talk about?” He asked.

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him as he stood up and led you out to the dance floor. The beginning to Tenerife Sea by Ed Sheeran began to play and Shawn pulled you close to him. His hand rested on your back as his other arm stretched, holding your hand in his. You placed your other hand on his shoulder, completely allowing yourself to lean into him during the song. Singing the lyrics softly in your ear, Shawn swayed the two of you to the beat.

“He’s watching us.” He whispered down to you during the bridge. He casually turned so that you could see Luke in the corner- his girlfriend was long gone from sight and he watched you move with Shawn.

“I haven’t seen him this jealous in a while.” You let out a small laugh.

“Shall we make him even more jealous then?” Shawn asked you quietly. Your eyes trailed up to him, confused by the question. The hand that held yours dropped and moved to cup your cheek, as Shawn pulled you in for a kiss. Every part was telling you this was wrong, but you just didn’t want it to stop. It was delicate, yet passionate, and everything you had wanted since you first met him a year ago. He pulled away from you after a moment and smiled at you. You blushed as you felt his heart racing under his shirt.

“I don’t know if that worked.” You said with a smirk.

“We better try again.” His barely finished his reply before he was back kissing you, as if you two were the only ones in the room. This time, you pulled back first- your mind finally settling on the fact that you really shouldn’t be going this far with Shawn. Your eyes darted over to see Luke now gone from the room.

“It worked.” You stated as the song ended and a peppier song began.

“Will you still dance with me anyway?” He asked while Can’t Take My Eyes Off You by Frankie Valli played.

“How can I say no?” You smiled. Though your ex had left, you and Shawn continued to dance to the songs that played, and you were completely unable to stop yourself from falling even harder for Shawn as you did so.

~~~

“Well, that was fun.” You said, settling down into your beside Shawn. He smiled over at you.

“If only you had caught the bouquet.” He teased and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re unbelievable.” You sighed.

“What happened between you and Luke?” His words were quiet, as if he was unsure if it was okay to ask the question. You were close enough to him that you could feel his nervous breathing, making you feel anxious about the conversation ahead.

“We just didn’t work out.” You said, just as quietly.

“What really happened? Why did he break up with you?”

“He didn’t.” You corrected him and his face fell, “I broke up with him. I told him I was too busy with work to have a boyfriend.” You explained, “We were together for over a year and it just hurt us too much to try to make it work long distance.”

“You broke up with him because of me?” Shawn’s voice trailed off, feeling guilty.

“Not directly because of you, but I guess so.” You shrugged lightly. “Don’t feel guilty about it. Luke’s perfect, but he’s too perfect for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“He wanted to make sure everything was perfect- he never allowed himself to make a mistake. It was difficult for me to move on because I was so used to the perfectionist attitude he had- I never realized just how wonderful imperfections are.”

“Well,” He let out a shaky breath, “Have you found someone with those imperfections?”

“I think so.” You replied with a small smile on your lips.

“You know, I think that you owe me a favor after this weekend.” Shawn said, leaning even closer to you.

“And what would you like me to do?” You asked, a smile starting to form on your face.

“Let me take you out on a proper date.”

“A date, huh? That hardly sounds like a fair trade. After all, you had to come all this way out here, you had to pretend to be my boyfriend, you had to sleep in the same bed as me, and you had to kiss me.” You stated, emphasizing each ‘had’. “A date could hardly make up for what I put you through.”

“Okay then,” Shawn replied, placing a hand on the opposite side of you as he pushed himself up to hover over you. “A date, a kiss, and a snuggle buddy. Is that a good enough exchange?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

“Oh, I plan to.” He leaned down and kissed you. His hands kept himself up, and your hands went to his hair, tugging on the curls to bring him into you.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes x reader

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ofmallory · 4 years

Text

( tati gabrielle , cis female , she/her, twenty-four ) omg ! i was walking yonge street downtown , and you’ll never guess who i saw . mallory roth ! i just saw a post about them on sixsecrets ! i think it said something like “ still no word on the status of mal roth's next album — but at least twitter stans are posting some hilarious memes about the three - year - long wait ” . isn’t that wild ? i guess it makes sense through , since they’re apparently fickle and self-absorbed . but i’ve heard they’re also ardent and ingenious ! i’ll just stick to giving them the benefit of the doubt . i mean , it’s not like i know them personally — they’re a famous singer / songwriter ! you know , i’ve actually heard rumors that ____ , but they’re just rumors … i think . i dunno . if you happen to run into them , tell them i’m their biggest fan ! ( sam , she/her , 23 , est )

* lorde career claim !

greetings and salutations! i’m sam and i’ve been thinking about this muse for aaaages, but this is my very first time writing her! character info is under the cut and of course, please message me if you would like to plot!

triggers : abandonment, theft, car accident.

STATS

FULL NAME: mallory corine roth ; born mallory im

NICKNAMES: mal, moll, mollie

GENDER + PRONOUNS: cis female + she / her

DOB + AGE: december 31st, 1995 + twenty - four

ZODIAC: capricorn

HOMETOWN: oakland, california

ORIENTATION: panromantic / pansexual

OCCUPATION: singer / songwriter

HISTORY

mallory im was born and raised in oakland, california. her mother was a nineteen - year - old pre law student at uc berkeley and her father was in the midst of his fifteen minutes of fame as a musician with a number one song on the radio. he was in town for a gig which mal’s mother attended, and then just a few weeks later she discovered that she was pregnant. her parents ( mal’s maternal grandparents ) were absolutely furious. they disowned her on the spot, kicking her out of their house and stopping their payments of her college tuition. forced to drop out, she resorted to working several small jobs at once in order to cover doctor visits and the rent for her small, run - down apartment.

much of what mal knows about her early childhood is things that she was told rather than things that she actually remembers. after she was born, her mother resumed her college courses in between her revolving door or minimum wage jobs. her parents were civil with each other. by the time that she was born, her father’s career had completely fallen off and he put most of his earnings into starting a record label ( that wasn’t very successful at first ), but he would still send them some money every once in a while.

mal was three years old when her mother began dating a local businessman. the owner of a luxury car dealership, he was slightly older and a widower with two children of his own, and he and mal’s mom fell absolutely smitten with each other. it wasn’t long before they were picking out flower arrangements and setting a date for their wedding ( mal was the flower girl and her soon - to - be stepbrothers were groomsmen ).

after the marriage took place, mal’s new stepfather was completely committed to taking care of the new members of his family. he moved them into his home, paid for mal’s mother to complete her degree, and even formally adopted his new stepdaughter, her surname officially changing to roth.

the few years that ensued were uneventful outside of a few things : mal started taking music lessons, her stepbrothers went off to college and so she became the only child of the household, and her mother completed law school and opened up a practice in the city.

mal tried countless hobbies, but nothing besides music could hold her interest for long. in high school, she joined the skater kids clique and started to rebel. it was just small things at first : sneaking out after curfew, trying cigarettes, drinking at the skate park with her friends on the weekends. her parents had noticed of course, so they scolded her a little and figured that was that. spoiler alert : it wasn’t.

at approximately two in the morning on her sixteenth birthday, mal and a few of her friends drunkenly stole a car from her stepfather’s dealership and wound up crashing into lake merritt. mal was behind the wheel at the time. fortunately, no one was seriously injured. her parents were simultaneously relieved and furious. however, they were far more interested in helping her rather than punishing her. deciding that a change of scenery and being away from her friends who they deemed to be a bad influence might be good for her, mal’s mother and stepfather sent her to live with a virtual stranger.

in the years since he had started his record label, mal’s father had upgraded his reputation, going from washed - up musician to successful businessman and mentor. he’s credited with launching the careers of several artists in the genres of rap and r & b. he was earning more money than ever, dating beautiful celebrities, and buying all sorts of expensive items for himself. he sent cards & money for birthdays & holidays and called on the phone every once in a while, but mal had never met him.

she never thought much of it. their first in - person meeting was actually rather anticlimactic. his chauffeur picked her up from the airport and brought her to his enormous bel air mansion, and he was just leaving for work when she arrived. he told her to make herself at home, and that was it.

mal spent her first few weeks in los angeles exploring her new home. she poked around the edges of the local party scene and found that it had lost its appeal for her after the accident, so she turned her attention to the one constant in her life : music.

she started accompanying her father to the studio and quickly caught onto the basics. at just sixteen years old she was writing songs that artists were literally fighting over, but as she noticed her words growing more and more personal, mal started keeping songs for herself and soon she had more than enough for an entire album.

the song royals was released in 2013 when mal was sixteen years old, written about her first impressions of los angeles as someone who had never left their less famous and glamorous hometown. it was kind of an experiment. no one really knew what was going to happen, but no one was expecting the song to become the PHENOMENON that it did.

royals was critically acclaimed, spent nine weeks at the number one spot on the billboard hot 100 chart, and went on to win two grammy awards : best pop solo performance and song of the year.

her debut album pure heroine was released in 2013 as well, and her second album melodrama was released in 2017. the long break in between albums became a literal meme that’s starting to pop up again now that it’s been around three years since mal has released something new.

she moved to toronto in 2016 while she was working on her second album. it was just supposed to be a little vacation that would hopefully help to clear her head because she was struggling to write at the time, but mal wound up falling in love with the city and decided to make it her permanent residence.

PERSONALITY

Perfectionist™️

I HATE EVERYBODY by halsey is honestly a perfect explanation for how she typically is in her personal relationships. she falls hard and fast, and when the relationship inevitably disintegrates she’s devastatingly heartbroken until she discovers a new infatuation. she does it with both romances and friends, moving through the lives of people around her in search of something she’s never found.

basically, she wants love but expects it to happen right away, and when it doesn’t she immediately writes off the relationship as a failure.

the type of person to literally move to a new house if her refrigerator stopped working because she doesn’t feel like getting it fixed.

almost overly generous with friends. you like her perfume? here, take the bottle! car broke down? come on, she’ll buy you a new one! material things = love is something she isn’t even aware that she believes in, but she absolutely does.

she’s REALLY self - centered though. people do often approach her for advice, but she’s just not a good listener.

lowkey insecure and worries that she’s unloveable but she’d never outright say so except for in her music.

she’s approachable, but not really the chatty, small talk type. because of this, she’s gotten a bit of an unfair reputation for being frigid in the media.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friend ( basically the one person she’s never gotten even a little bit bored of. )

friends ( usually surface level, but also former friends, childhood friends, industry friends )

industry rivals

enemies

pr relationships ( romantic, platonic, negative, but all 100% fake )

exes / hookups / ewb / fwb

her current infatuation - could be platonic or romantic

THERE IS A POTENTIAL CONNECTION THAT INVOLVES HER SECRET, SO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME IF YOU MIGHT BE INTERESTED AND WE CAN DISCUSS!

these are just some base ideas for connections, so please don’t feel limited to what’s listed here!

#sixhqintro #abandonment tw #theft tw #car accident tw #very excited to write with everyone!

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multific · 5 years

Text

Soulmates

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

Soulmate AU!

Summary: Soulmates are real. But only men can feel them from the moment they see their partner. Women will only feel the connection when they get kissed by their soulmate.

You envied men. It was so easy for them, they could just find their soulmate with one simple glance. Meanwhile, you, you had to wait.

It really sucked. And the fact that there were people who used this to get one night stands, disgusting.

You often wondered, why couldn’t both parties feel connection at the same time?

Why did women had to wait?

Gays were probably the luckiest.

Lesbians tried and many succeeded.

It felt like everyone was good at finding their partners, except you.

Every friend of yours found theirs already. Some even had children by now.

And there you were an office worker, alone in front of your desk. You wanted to find happiness, as did everyone else. But you weren’t desperate, there were times when you looked at other and envied them for their happiness, but it was only a natural reaction. You worked your way up in the company while others were having dates and weddings.

You felt like you achieved everything you could in regards to your career. You were one of the most important people in the building, you worked directly with the CEO who respected you in many ways.

Your income increased to the point where you got yourself a rather fine way of living. You bought everything you ever wanted. A house, a pet, designer clothes, after many years of using public transport, you finally had enough of the people and bought yourself a car and many more.

You lived the high life. But you worked for it.

You had a weekend off and decided to go to a nice spa hotel and relax, refresh and have a great time alone, away from work, family, friends and the amount of people that lived in the big city.

The hotel that you choose was in the mountains, had amazing view and the rooms were to die for, with a personal pool to every room, during the winter they had warm water in it, so the guests can use it.

Sounded like the perfect mini-vacation after working so hard.

The only problem was that you had to drive for four hours, up a mountain and the whole road was slippery due to the winter weather.

You drove always very cautiously.

It was your last ten minutes and you’d be finally at the hotel.

You were to cross a small village, turn left then a bit more forward and finally, you’d be there.

Unfortunately, when you stopped to let a pedestrian cross, the car behind you couldn’t stop in time and bumped into you. It was nothing serious since it wasn’t coming fast. Your car started to call the authorities, but you stopped it from doing so. You pulled the handbrake on and after you took a big breath, to calm yourself, you got out of the car.

The guy from the car behind you was already out and expecting the damage. When he noticed you, he stopped for a second then he immediately rushed to you.

“Are you hurt? I’m so sorry Miss, I saw you stop and the road is just bad and I couldn’t.”

“It’s all right. Things like this happen, the important thing is that no one is hurt.” you offered him a small smile.

Was he blushing?

“I’ll give you my insurance, one moment.” he got back to his car to get his details while you waited in the cold. Thank Gucci for those amazing fury warm coats. You got your phone to drive down his details before he came back.

Lucky for you the traffic in the village was very light, so you didn’t have to move the cars and you could speak there.

“Okay, my name is Harrison Osterfield, and my details are…”

“Got it. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’ll give you a call when I get an estimate and then we can figure things out.”

“S-sure. Thank you for not getting mad.”

“I kind of expected it. You know, slippery roads, new car, it was meant to happen. And I just knew that I wouldn’t be able to drive my new car without something happening to it.”

“I’m really really sorry.” he looked very apologetic and the fact that he was cute helped a lot with your calmness.

“I said its fine. We are not hurt, and that’s the most important a bumper can be replaced.”

After that, you took a few pictures and then both of you said your goodbyes.

Other than the minor incident, your weekend was perfect. The hotel was amazing. You had massages and even got yourself a nice manicure-pedicure treatment.

All in all, it was worth it.

But you couldn’t stop thinking about the guy. Harrison.

He had a nice accent as well. He was English and those eyes. But you couldn’t figure out why was he so shy at one moment than in the next so confident.

As you thought about it, he was only shy when he…

looked at you.

You sat up in bed.

“Don’t tell me. Is he my…. No.” You convinced yourself that you just imagined it.

He couldn’t be your soulmate, right?

***

Three days passed, and you finally had your estimate.

When you told about the incident to your boss, she laughed at the situation. But then she told you that she met her husband during a meeting. He accidentally spilled hot coffee on her and he apologized with a date. She got a kiss from him that night, a simple peck on the lips and it was enough. She felt the connection since then.

“Soulmates are interesting Y/N. Especially, how you meet them. Because even if your first impression of them is bad, they will steal your heart with a kiss.”

She also said that she hoped that it is him and you finally found him.

You texted Harrison during your lunch break.

Hey, it’s Y/N. I got the new bumper, I sent a picture of the bill, but you don’t have to worry about it. You seemed genuine and the accident wasn’t truly your fault. You don’t have to pay me back for it.

It only took him about five minutes to reply.

Hi! It’s Harrison, sorry, I’m at work right now. But I cannot leave you with that bill! I’ll pay for it, but I cannot give you it at once, can we make out a plan or something for weekly or monthly payments.

You thought about it for a second, you really didn’t want him to pay it, it’s not like you’d go bankrupt or anything. It just meant that you couldn’t buy the new fridge you wanted this month.

Can we meet somewhere? I’d rather speak in person. When do you finish work? I can get off early so I’ll be able to leave around four.

Maybe this way, you can find out if your assumption was right or not.

Sure! Meet me at…

***

He asked you to meet at a small café shop. It was a very cozy café with flowers and small decorations.

You sat down and soon a waiter came to pick up your order. You read his name tag.

Tom. And he had the same British accent as Harrison.

“Welcome to our shop, my name is Tom, what can I get you?”

“Do you have any specialties?”

“Yes, our cappuccino with vanilla or if you prefer tea, we have a new green tea from Singapore.”

“I’ll take the coffee please.”

“Sure, any dessert to go with it?”

“Yes, please, I’ll leave it up to you. Thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back with your order.”

Tom arrived back with your coffee and a slice of cake in a few minutes.

Harrison said that he would get off of work at five. You checked the time, it was a quarter to five.

You looked around the small café one more time, you noted the counter and all the different cake, cupcakes, and cookies on display, they were all Christmas themed, since it was near. You wished you’d known about the café before, you’d have loved to see the Halloween decorated ones.

You happily ate the delicious cake, but you didn’t have to wait long, as you saw Harrison walk out of the kitchen wearing an apron.

He smiled at you.

“Hi”

“Hi, so you work here!”

“Yes, I’m one of the owners and the pastry chef.”

“Really? Then I must say that this cake is the best I have ever had.”

“Thank you.”

Then an awkward silence came between you two. You went back to drink your coffee.

“So, about your bumper, I have to take responsibility. It was my fault that I bumped into you, I knew the road was slippery and I didn’t keep my distance.”

You offered him a smile.

“It’s fine, really. It wasn’t that bad either, you don’t need to stress it.”

“Yes, I have to! It was my fault! And I saw the bill, don’t tell me it wasn’t bad.”

“You see, I earn enough to afford it, I wouldn’t have bought such a car otherwise…. You know what? How about you pay me back, but not with money!” his eyes suddenly widened and that’s when you realized how bad your words sounded.

“No! No! Don’t think about that. I meant like… Bake me a cake, please. For Christmas. You see, we will have a little party in the office, and I bring the cake every year. I used to make it, but since my promotion, I don’t have much time so I just ordered it from a place, but it wasn’t too good. So, how about you make me a Cake for ten people, some cupcakes and maybe if you have the time a few cookies?”

“That’s…That’s a great idea, but it isn’t the value of the damage I caused.”

“Stop worrying about that! So, give me the goodies, and we are even fine?” you held your pinkie out for him as a promise. He, a bit hesitantly, but agreed in the end.

***

On the day of the party, he said he would deliver the sweets himself, so now you were waiting for him to call so you can pick it up.

But of course, meanwhile, your lovely co-workers were teasing you up and down about him.

“Is he cute?” many asked, and the answer was always, very.

Then, you got his call. You took the elevator and surely enough, he was standing right in front of the building with boxes in his hands.

“Harrison! Hi.” you called when you noticed he was paying more attention to the height of the building then you approaching him.

“Wow, you work here?”

“Yes.” you thought that he just realized how different the two of you were. Him, owning a shot and you working for a huge business, literally.

“I brought you everything you asked for, I’ll help you bring them in.” he said after he was finished admiring the tower, but as he turned his head and looked at you, he noticed that you weren’t wearing your usual clothes. It was a more casual look on you, and he liked it. “You look beautiful,” he said before he can even think.

“Thank you!”

During the elevator ride, silence was between the two of you, with only him and you there, you wondered if it would be fine to ask.

“H-Harrison, can I ask you something?” he looked at you, facing him, you took in his gorgeous sea-blue eyes. You blushed a little.

“Sure.”

“Is-Am I… how should I ask this? Are we- what flavor is the cake?” you couldn’t do it.

“Oh… Chocolate and vanilla.” he looked, disappointed?

The elevator came to a stop.

“OH Y/N’s back! And look she brought someone!”

“Yes, this is Harrison, he made the sweets for us.”

“Good, good. Now, will you stay and celebrate with us, Harrison?”

“I don’t think he wants to, but if you do…it is fine…”

He ended up staying. Thankfully no one mentioned that they knew who he was. Harrison looked like he enjoyed himself.

You didn’t notice the time and when it was time to leave, you offered Harrison a ride, which he took.

So now, you were in the car with the man you thought might be your soulmate, other than that, you barely knew anything about him, but the way he looked at you, you wanted to find out the reason behind it.

“Turn left here. We are nearly there,” he instructed.

“Okay. Oh, you live close to the shop.”

“Yeah, it’s more convenient this way. That’s it with the blue fence. You can stop there.” he pointed at a parking space.”

After you stopped you thought he might get out fast and just forget you, but no, he just sat there, deep in thought. Finally, he decided to speak up.

“You know, I never found it to be fair. This whole soulmate-thing. I always wanted that both men and women would feel the start of the connection at the same. A-and that day, when I ran into you, I just wasn’t expecting it. For it to happen this way.” he let out a laugh, you decided to just stay silent and let him finish. “Leave it to me to find you like this. I was terrified, running into such a car, I thought I will pay with my life. But instead of a thug or some mobster, you got out and smiled. Now I know what that feeling is when others say ‘they just knew’ because I did too. When I saw you… I just knew. You think I’m weird right?” he laughed at himself. He didn’t expect an answer though.

“No. You are not weird. I somehow knew as well. Just the way you’d look at me, it was pretty obvious, but I didn’t want to let myself believe in dreams. But now, you confirmed them for me.” you smiled at him a genuine, sweet smile. He finally looked at you.

“What did you think of me when you first saw me?”

“Honestly?” he gave a nod, yes. “My exact thoughts were ‘Wow, it’s not fair for a man to have such beautiful eyes.’ and then I went to your shop. And I felt like it was just like you. With the flowers and plants. That baby blue wall. The pictures on the wall. Even the dark wood for the display. It was like a piece of you. But we can only be sure if you kiss me.”

He started to lean over and close his eyes. But you stopped him.

“Not here, mister. Maybe bring me on a date, Friday? Sound good? At eight? How about the park near here? They have a really good bar there, the wine and the cocktails just amazing.”

“Yeah, right sorry. I’m the man, I’m supposed to say these things.”

“Who says?”

“Um… masculinity?” you laughed at his answer.

“Right, so drinks there and maybe but only if I truly like you, you can kiss me in front of the pond.”

You looked into his eyes and they were full of determination. He wanted to prove a point and make you like him, even before the soulmate connection.

“Fine by me. Be prepared to be blown away. I’m quite the romantic type.”

“I’m more than ready. Text me.” you said as you kissed him on the cheek.

“I will.”

***

Friday evening came.

It was currently almost midnight and you may or may not be tipsy with Harrison helping you walk straight. The problem? You were a rather horny drunk.

“I told you the wine is gooood.”

“I was. But it was expensive as hell.”

“Yeah, my taste is rather… what’s the word?”

“Fancy?”

“YES! Fancy, like me.”

“Sure is, Love.”

“Oooooh, do that again!”

“Hm?”

“Call me Love again and I will lose my panties right here, right now. With that accent and lipppps and eyes. How can you be real? WAIT are you an alien? Did someone sent you for me?”

“No, Love.” he whispered the last word into your ear, making you shiver in the winter evening.

Suddenly you stopped, but Harrison didn’t notice for a minute. The next thing he knew your hand was inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Where to now?” you asked.

“To the pond. You said I can kiss you there.”

“I said maybe Mr. Gorgeous Eyes.”

“Is there anything else you like about me besides my eye colour?”

“Hmmm…. Lips, jawline. But you are funny, I nearly peed myself in there. I like how much patience and affection you have for others and me. And I also happen to like your butt. OH OH and those biceps….hmmm.” you let out a sigh. “HEY and what about you, what do you like about me? Since it seems like you are already connected to me.”

He started walking again before he answered.

“I love your laugh. Your smile is beautiful it brightens up the room. I love how smooth your hair looks even if I never touched it. And you know. You are so fucking sexy, it drives me wild.”

“Gooood. At least I know Chanel is worth its money.”

“Oh please, even with a paper bag on, you’d look like a Goddess.”

You didn’t even notice that when he stopped this time, it was right by the pond. You blushed a little.

No words were spoken after that. There was no need as he leaned down to your level and captured your lips with his.

It was a simple kiss. Like a looong peck.

And that’s when you felt it. As soon as his soft lips connected with yours, your heart also did with his.

The feelings confused you a little. It was love, passion, lust, affection, and longing at the same time.

When he pulled away all you could do was look into his eyes, the moon and the lights around the park reflected on the surface of the pond which gave his face light. Only a second passed before you pulled him in for more, but this one was different. This one was full of passion. This was a kiss between two souls who had finally became one.

When you ran out of breath you pulled away from him, he gave out a groan of dissatisfaction. You hugged him with your head on his chest.

“So this is how it feels like.”

“Pretty good right?”

“Amazing.”

A few minutes of hugging passed and you became tired.

“Can you take me home?” you asked him.

“Sure, where do you live?” you lifted your hand and pointed at a skyscraper.

“Up there.”

“Very funny, Y/N.”

“I’m not joking! I live THERE!”

“So, you are telling me that you drive an expensive car around, have designer clothes and you live in a penthouse up THERE?”

“Yessss, and I love you.” his heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. Let me kiss you again.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

And after another hot kiss, you pulled back and started to walk away from him.

“It’s cold, let go home.” you said as you stopped and turned back for him. You put your hands into your pockets and waited for him. When he mimicked your movement and placed his hand into his pockets, you smirked and started to walk.

Harrison became confused, something was in his pocket. He couldn’t help but look at the thing with opened mouth and round eyes.

A thong.

“I told you. Calling me Love without any consequence? I think not.”

He placed the clothing back to his pocket and jogged to catch up to you.

“Love” he whispered into your ear, as you turned your head, he gave you a final kiss.

Soulmates or not, you definitely loved this guy.

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gruviafan-forever · 5 years

Text

CAFE LOVE (GRUVIA)

A/N: This is a modern au one shot.

Gray's age: 26 years

Juvia's age: 23 years

Today was the tenth time Gray Fullbuster is going to visit ' Nora's Cafe ' in a span of two months.

When asked about his frequent visit to the cafe by his friends, all he said was, 'the food over there was worth every penny'.

His friends especially the girls didn't believe his reason as they knew a guy never visits any place twice until and unless that has some significance in his life.

But Gray defended himself from their silly assumptions and carried on with his office work.

Slowly few months passed by and Gray's visit became a routine both to him and the cafe.

The manager of the cafe becomes delighted every time Gray paid them a visit.

One fine Saturday evening, when Gray reached the cafe his eyes widened due to shock when he saw his female friends standing in front of the cafe while grinning at him.

Gray's eyes twitched and smiled sheepishly while waving his palms at them.

"Hi girls, what brings you here?" He asked them in a surprised tone.

The beautiful blonde, Lucy Heartfillia and the Scarlet haired beauty, Erza Fernandez, both were his best female friends after Natsu Dragneel whom he considered as a frenemy and a good brother. He also happens to be Lucy's fiance.

Just a year back, Erza Scarlet married the love of her life, Jellal Fernandez in a lavish wedding ceremony which was held in one of the biggest churches of Magnolia.

Gray had known them since his childhood and all of them shared an unspoken bond of blossoming friendship since their school days which continued further even after finding their stands in their respective careers.

"Just thought of having girl's night. Nothing much." Erza spoke as she smiled at him.

Gray raised his eyebrow knowing very well their secret intentions.

"Good, so carry on. I will take my leave. Bye, have a fun filled evening."

Gray literally began to move backwards knowing that was the best thing.

Lucy caught hold of his wrist and smirked, "Well Gray, now you are here. Why don't you spend some time us? It would be fun to catch up with you."

Erza grinned and caught hold of his other wrist and pulled him into the cafe.

Now he knew there was no turning back and his secret would be out any moment from now.

Once the trio entered the cafe, one of the attendee escorted them to an empty space opposite to cash counter where a young pretty blunette sat on her desk doing some work in the computer, Juvia Locksar, the manager of Nora's Cafe.

Gray sat on the bench facing the blunette while the girls sat opposite to him.

The attendee gave them the menu and waited for them to order.

Gray fidgeted as the thought of spending time with two ladies might cause a bad impression in the eyes of certain blunette which he didn't want to happen in any case.

As if on cue, Juvia raised her head from the monitor and saw her crush staring at her which made her blush.

Seeing her flustered Gray gave his cheeky grin and waved his hand to greet her.

Juvia shyly waved her hand and mouthed him her greeting with a warm smile.

That's when her smile dropped as she took notice of two ladies who had accompanied her crush whose faces were not clear except for their hair colors.

Ever since she opened this cafe six months back, Gray had frequently visited her cafe and became her regular costumer.

Juvia had harbored those warm feelings for him since the day he began talking to her on a friendly manner which was on his 4th visit over here.

So till now, she and Gray had become best of friends who shared an amicable relationship.

They started talking via mobile just a month back much to Juvia's delight as Gray was the one who asked her number first with a huge blush on his cheeks which she swore would never forget in her lifetime.

Sometimes she wished herself to be a bit more confident and declare her love to him.

But she feared as she didn't want to ruin the best of their relationship.

After checking through the menu Erza and Lucy ordered their choice and Gray said his usual which the attendee nodded her head and went to get their respective dishes.

"So Gray, it looks like you are a regular customer here. Tell us, what's so good in this cafe?" Lucy smirked.

Erza looked around the wall paintings and decorations around the cafe which pleased and amused her.

That's when she saw the blunette who was looking at them.

She instantly turned her head to the side, then again looked at Erza as if some kind of realization dawned upon her which was same for Erza.

"Hey Juvia"

"Hello Erza-San"

Juvia got up from her chair and went near her to personally greet. When Juvia reached the table where the trio were seated.

Erza got up and hugged her which caused confusion for both Gray and Lucy.

"How are you? I never knew this was the cafe which you opened.

Sorry I couldn't visit you with Jellal during the opening day and these six months were so hectic as we were busy finishing the projects of several clients at a time." Erza apologized.

Juvia broke the hug and smiled brightly, "It's okay, nee-San. Juvia knows how busy you have been lately.

She's happy that you got time to visit her cafe. Welcome to Nora's cafe."

"Well sorry to interrupt your moment, how do you know Juvia?"

Gray asked her as he clearly heard his crush calling his friend as a sister. He was curious to know the relationship between them.

"Gray-sama, nee-san is Juvia's brother's wife, basically her sister-in-law. Didn't Juvia say to you that she has an elder brother who is married to a beautiful, elegant lady?" Juvia told him with a flustered cheeks.

Gray formed an 'O' mouth and mentally began to fidget after grasping the new found information.

'Man, so she's the sister Jellal mentioned and the cutie pie sister-in-law of Erza.

Both of them will bury me if they found out that I'm having a crush on her.' Gray thought to himself.

While Lucy and Erza were more keen on knowing the reason behind Gray's suffix and why she called him with a flushed face.

"Gray-sama??" Both Lucy and Erza asked in unison.

They looked at both Gray and Juvia whose face was cherry colored due to embarrassment while the former tried to suppress the warmth from spreading across his face.

Gray fake coughed to grab the sudden heavy atmosphere under his control, "Well Lucy and Erza, as you know she is Juvia. I befriended her here and ever since then we have been good friends."

Then Juvia continued, "Yeah, Gray-sama has become Juvia's friend for 6 months now. She never knew he could be your friend, nee-san."

Just as she was about to continue further the customers called her to collect their bills which might keep her busy for sometime.

After Juvia left, a cheeky grin appeared on both the girls face, "So Gray, now we understand the reason behind your frequent visits. She's cute and pretty. Nice choice indeed." Lucy teased him.

"Did you ask her out still?" Erza asked him as she folded her arms against her chest.

Gray decided to let the cat out of the bag and shook his head in sideways while rubbing the back of his neck.

The ladies smiled at him, "So you do like her?" Erza asked him.

"Hey I love her. Six months ago, I saw her in a day care center when I went to pick up Lyon's son. There she was happily playing and taking care of those little ones. That moment itself she entered my heart.

Luckily the next day, I entered this cafe to have dinner before heading back home. That's when I came to know she's the manager of this place. So every weekend I would end up here. She would welcome me with her warm, bright smile.

Slowly I began falling for her as I came to know more about her. Just last month, we exchanged numbers and began talking and texting on everyday basis. I'm just hoping even she feels the same towards me."

Gray said looking at his crush who was busy collecting the bills.

Lucy thought for awhile then exclaimed her idea, "Hey let's test if she also feels the same towards you.

As far as I saw the way she looked at you with that flustered face.

I'm damn sure she loves you too. To confirm your doubts, why don't we make her feel jealous?"

Gray raised his eyebrow at her idea, "What do you mean?"

"She means we are going to make Juvia jealous by hitching you with Lucy for sometime now.

If her face and mood changes then that means she also harbours those kind of feelings for you."

Erza exclaimed and her brown eyes shone with glitter.

"No...I don't want her to think that I'm committed. It will ruin my chances with her. Give some other ideas." Gray protested just then their order arrives to the table.

After taking a few bites, Lucy convinced Gray that it would be very subtle and need not worry about that.

After finishing their dishes, Lucy went to pay the bill while Gray and Erza sat waiting for the action to unfold.

Juvia smiled at her, "Oh Lucy-san, right?"

"Yes,Juvia. Here is the bill and take the card."

Lucy handed her card while Juvia swiped the card on the machine and held to Lucy so that she could enter the pin.

"So I heard my Gray visits your cafe often. Thank you for taking care of him." Lucy flashed her toothy grin.

Juvia's color faded from her face when she heard Lucy as 'My Gray'.

Her voice choked as she never expected Gray to be committed as by the way he interacted with her, seemed to her more like he was single.

"Ye...yeah, I.its okay,Lucy-san. It's Juvia's duty to take care of her customers. We must treat every customer as a king. So there's no problem." Juvia let out the words in a depressed tone.

Lucy took the hint from her voice and felt guilty for making her sad. But that was not enough to clear her doubts.

"Juvia, are you free next Saturday?" Lucy asked her in a chirpy tone.

"Well Juvia has to see the month planner to know that. May Juvia know the reason, Lucy-san?"

Lucy grinned, "I thought you could come and meet the rest of our friends. Moreover, it's my Gray's birthday before the wedding. So will you join us?"

Juvia's eyes widened due to shock and big droplet of water began to form in those blue orbs.

Juvia excused herself and ran to the locker room to let out her tears. She felt a very painful ache in heart.

"Why does it always happen to Juvia? Why can't Juvia find the love of her life?"

When she thought, she finally met her dream man but all her hopes got shattered.

She shouldn't have fallen for his charms and antics."

Juvia cried out looking at herself as a mess in front of the mirror. Just then, the door opened and entered her crush with a worried look adorned on his handsome visage.

"Juvia, were you crying?" He asked in concern and closed the gap between them.

Juvia quickly wiped her tears and smiled at him as if nothing happened.

"No Gray-sama, it's just some dirt fell in her eyes. That's all. See now Juvia is alright." She smiled at him.

Gray remained silent and looked down at her as if waiting to hear more from her.

"Juvia, are you free tomorrow morning?"

Juvia wondered why he was asking her. She guessed it must be the reason which Lucy told her to introduce her to the rest of the members of her brother's gang.

"Why do you ask, Gray-sama?"

Gray said with red cheeks, "Because we are going on a date. Be ready at 10 am. I will pick you up."

Juvia blinked her eyes in confusion and wondered whether she heard him right.

"Gray-sama, why would you take Juvia on a date? If you are getting married to Lucy-san." Juvia raised her voice.

Gray chuckled and pinched her nose, "She's getting married to my friend, Natsu whom I mentioned a few days back. Remember?

And moreover, she was playing a trick on you to find whether you also feel the same towards me.

Looks like you do feel the same way for me. I love you, Juvia. Will you be my girlfriend?"

Juvia sighed in relief and became flushed with Gray's confession.

Without further ado, she hugged him tightly and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Yes Gray-sama. Juvia is willing to be your girlfriend. If Gray-sama wishes to be her boyfriend?" Juvia grew red with the sudden bold confession.

Gray chuckled and ran his hand on her back, "Sure I would love too."

Soon the door opened to reveal Erza and Lucy with a soft smile. Lucy apologised to Juvia for playing tricks on her.

And clarified that she and Natsu was getting married next month and invited her personally.

Then both the ladies congratulated the couple in front of her.

But Erza could see a bit of disappointment in her eyes which she could make out reason behind her worry.

"Juvia, don't worry. I will make your brother to give you permission. If not, he won't be laid for another one year.

And Gray, if you make her sad, I and Jellal will break your neck. Got it?"

Erza threatened her friend and became protective of her sister-in-law.

Gray gulped and nodded his head in agreement while the girls giggled.

#gruvia #cafelover #modern au #nalu #jerza #ft juvia #ft gray #ft lucy #ft erza #fairy tail juvia #fairy tail erza #fairy tail gray #fairytail #fairy tail lucy

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patchwork-panda · 4 years

Text

If A Moment is All We Are (5.1/?)

This chapter is REALLY long so I split the text ver into 2 parts for Tumblr.

AO3 link: here

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Story type: Romance/Drama/comedy

Pairing: Dazai x OC/reader (Dazai is endgame, fic is long-running and will also feature Kunikida x OC)

OC (Kusunoki Kyou) and Ability are based off of "The Story of Your Life," written by Ted Chiang, aka the basis of the Amy Adams movie "Arrival."

Rating: M for Blood/violence/themes of depression, anxiety, suicide TW: The second half of this story will deal more heavily with themes of suicide, depression/anxiety. *No major character death will occur*

Story follows OC as she joins the ADA, partners up with the detectives to solve various cases around Yokohama and develops feelings for Kunikida and Dazai (Dazai endgame).

Written for those who want an immersive ADA experience :)

Updates every Sunday evening around 6pm PST

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It wasn’t always like this.

Okay, maybe it was.

For as far back as I could remember, the visions had always been random, random events I would see of the future. If I was in physical contact with someone, the visions would be from their future. If I wasn’t, then the visions would be from my own life. Sometimes when I was really stressed, the visions of my future would actually come in the form of a dream, like in manga or novels.

Perhaps that was the best way to explain how The Story of Your Life worked; it was like taking out a book, keeping a finger against the pages and flipping until that finger finally caught on a single page. Then, flip open that page and read the first paragraph that jumps out; the book was the person’s life and the paragraph was the event, a single scene from that person’s future that I bore witness to.

The visions didn’t always show me death, blood and despair.

In fact, the very first vision I had was that of a puppy—a cute little thing my friend Kiko gifted me at my fifth birthday party. I must’ve seemed shockingly unsurprised (and possibly rude) to Kiko and her parents, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I’d seen her giving me this puppy half a year ago.

In retrospect, the puppy vision had been great. Sure, it took some of the fun out of a surprise gift but it was still a vision about a puppy. Honestly, if my visions were nothing more than glorified versions of baby animal videos, I’d be perfectly fine with that.

Maybe then, I wouldn’t be left with this overwhelming fear of my own Ability.

I used to be able to touch people, shake their hands, and hold them. In the beginning, “The Story of Your Life” only activated with a prolonged touch...

At first, “prolonged” meant more than ten seconds. That meant getting to play tag in kindergarten, going over to friends’ houses and having sleepovers. Normal stuff. My life didn’t even change all that much when ten seconds shrank to seven some time around middle school; I was able to play contact sports and go out on shopping trips without incident. Seven seconds became five halfway through high school. Again, no need to make lifestyle changes. I could still hold hands with friends, so long as it didn’t go on for too long and I was still able to have my first kiss without seeing even a hint of my boyfriend’s future.

And then, college. Five seconds was no longer doable. It became three at best and just before I’d become a shut-in, even an instantaneous touch was enough to trigger my Ability. By then, however, I’d gotten pretty used to having the visions, so I remained relatively unbothered when I’d see a vision of the barista breaking up with his girlfriend when I got my morning coffee. In other words, managing my Ability was no big deal.

Or so I thought.

About six months ago, my visions went from being an occasional distraction to a panic-inducing nightmare. I still wasn’t sure why...

Maybe it was just luck of the draw. I’d only seen good things, mostly, for the first ten-plus years at least: faraway cities, weddings, and graduations. Every once in a while there would be a failed exam or a lost wallet but overall nothing too out of the ordinary for an otherwise regular teenager to see.

Maybe it was just a sign of the times. As I got older, so did the people around me, so the more likely it was that they were entering that phase of their lives where things could start to go south. Or perhaps their previous lives were just catching up to them.

Or maybe, it was karma finally catching up to me. I’d be lying if I said that I’d never used my Ability for personal gain before. There were a few exams I managed to ace with the help of a well-timed touch of the hand and a few pitfalls I’d managed to avoid through a combination of sheer luck and a decently fast reflex. Perhaps six months ago, whatever granted me this power finally decided that I had a good run and it needed to end in the worst way possible...

And it all happened so quickly.

I never had much control over my visions to begin with and they never really bothered me before but suddenly, they were invading every part of my life—and with each vision I saw, the accuracy increased. My dreams became more vivid than ever; I would see things that had yet to occur and before I moved out, my college roommate would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of my screams. I started passing out in the middle of class if someone so much as tapped my bare shoulder and when I came to again, it would be a minute before I remembered where I was and what I was doing. I was starting to consider seeking some kind of help until one day, I finally saw my first death.

It was horrible. I was at dinner with friends on a group date and I hit it off with one of the guys. He wanted to take me to the movies that weekend, and being relatively new to college and Yokohama in general, I agreed. Then, smiling, he’d held my hand just a millisecond too long and I saw it: him getting hit by a car while crossing the street.

I tried not to think about it too hard. Sometimes the vision were wrong. There were times when they’d been off by just a fraction of a second and because of that, I still had hope. Maybe there was a chance that things could change last minute, either by a miracle or by someone’s sheer force of will. But as time passed, my anxiety grew. He was running late and I didn’t like it. Finally, I spotted him at the intersection and, frantic, I waved him down just as the “walk” sign lit up and he started crossing the street.

That’s when it happened.

A single black vehicle, no license plate, ran a red... and ran into him.

I would remember seeing his body flying into the air for the rest of the semester.

After that, I started taking an alternate route to class, just to avoid going anywhere near the part of campus where he’d died. It wasn’t that people were whispering behind my back or accusing me of having a part of it—I just couldn’t handle the memory.

That was the first death.

The first.

It was as if some kind of floodgate had been opened. I had never seen death before that day but after...? Death became all I saw. I briefly shook hands with a foreign exchange student and immediately saw an image of a middle-aged woman lying in a hospital wing. The woman had been the student’s mother and I heard she died a week later. I could not have been responsible for the cancer that claimed her life but I spent weeks feeling guilty about it anyway. There was another incident where I accidentally, and literally, bumped into my English teacher on the way to class. I saw his brother being hit by a bus downtown. His death was announced a month later, on the morning news. When I saw it, I broke down in the middle of the cafeteria and my friend Eri had to take me home.

And it just kept happening.

I became afraid to touch people. I began wearing longer layers during the summer months and started keeping to myself. When even a brush of the hand or bumping into people on public transit could trigger a vision, I started wearing gloves. I got a lot of stares on the subway for wearing itchy winter gloves in the subtropical heat and the knitted fabric made gripping the overhead handholds difficult so I ended up changing to disposable nitrile instead. I got less stares for that but unfortunately, I eventually had to give up public transit entirely when I got squished between two tourists and had a panic attack in the middle of the car.

But giving up public transportation put me in a tough spot. My dorm was pretty far from campus and I didn’t know how to drive. If I really wanted to, I could walk but that would take far too long and make for far too many chances to see another person’s death. And I really didn’t want to ask anyone for a ride because that would just mean more questions and more explanations I wasn’t willing to give.

And yet somehow, I managed to make it work for a time, waking up early to go to class, avoiding hangouts in-between classes and running back to my dorm as soon as I got a chance. But I was still attending classes with lots of people in a crowded lecture hall and living with roommates in a dormitory building. Ultimately, the stress of trying to avoid people while also trying to keep up with increasingly difficult classes caused me to start having nightmares. They were frequent and they were bad. And I knew that these were all things that would someday happen to me: me and a friend being held hostage in an abandoned apartment building, a woman in a suit and sunglasses pointing two machine guns directly at my face, a man didn’t recognize growing steadily colder in my arms as I screamed for him not to leave me...

That following morning, I woke up sobbing—crying as if I wished I was the one who had died instead. When my roommate tried to comfort me, I jerked away out of instinct and immediately realized I’d made a mistake.

And that was it.

I couldn’t it take any more.

About a week later, I left the dorm and found myself a tiny studio apartment, one that I could still afford on my shoestring budget and more importantly, one where I could live completely alone.

Soon after, I dropped out of college and became a shut-in. In true shut-in fashion, I shunned all contact from classmates and friends in case someone came to visit and decide they needed to barge in because they couldn’t—shouldn’t—do such a thing. My apartment had become both my sanctuary and my jail. So long as nothing changed around me, none of the horrible visions would come to pass.

Thankfully, a month into my new lifestyle, the nightmares stopped.

So long as nobody came near me, I wouldn’t have to witness another death with my waking eyes...

I still remembered the night I decided to stop going to class. It was the same night I looked out the windows and saw my own reflection, touched my fingers to my face and pulled them away, confirming that it was indeed blood and not salt tears that dripped down my cheeks. I started avoiding mirrors from that day on and threw myself fully into watching anime, joining fandoms and drawing commissions, anything to distract myself from the invasive, self-destructive thoughts that grew stronger whenever I looked into a reflection of my own eyes.

Yes... Staying was the only solution. If I never stepped out of the apartment again, the world would be spared the sight of my hollow eyes and bloody tears... And I—I would be spared the curse of witnessing things I should never have seen to begin with.

***

“So you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the last six months doing...”

Kunikida frowned, tapping his pen against his chin.

“What exactly? Rent in Yokohama isn’t cheap. How have you been supporting yourself?”

“Commissions,” I explained. “I started watching a lot of anime and playing video games and fans pay good money for drawings of their favorite characters, original characters or even pictures of themselves in a stylized form.”

Summing up my Ability meant practically telling these two my entire life story, not just recalling the events of this morning, and I had to commend the detectives’ patience for sitting through what I would’ve considered a pretty long-winded explanation. Now I was even telling them how I’d stretched my budget and supplemented my allowance.

I held out my hand.

“If I could have some paper and something to write with, I could show you, if you like...?”

Dazai immediately ripped Kunikida’s notebook and pen out of his hands. Ignoring his partner’s protests, he held them out to me and, throwing his arm out to keep Kunikida from taking back his own things, sat back to watch me draw. Within seconds, a coarse outline appeared on the pages, followed by facial features: eyes, nose, hair—a minute later, I handed back Kunikida’s notebook, a quick, rudimentary pen sketch of each detective on its two open pages.

As one, they leaned in to stare at it.

“This is pretty good,” Kunikida said, looking up at me. He squinted down at the page, tracing the lines with his fingers, mumbling, “Does my hair really look like that?”

“It is... isn’t it?” Dazai agreed, rubbing his chin.

As Kunikida puzzled over the drawing, a mischievous glint appeared in Dazai’s dark eyes.

“Kusunoki-san... Have you ever considered a career as a sketch artist?”

At once, Kunikida shot him a warning look.

“Don’t even think about it, Dazai,” he growled, “Making decisions without the President’s approval—”

“I’m not making a decision, only a suggestion,” Dazai declared. “And what’s wrong with a good suggestion?”

“Dazai...”

Ignoring Kunikida entirely, he turned to me.

“Really, I don’t know how we survived like this for so long. We’re a detective agency, one of the best in the city and yet, we don’t have a sketch artist... It’s a shame, don’t you agree, Kusunoki-san? What do you think? Interested in a change of career?”

“Wait... are you asking me to join you?” I asked warily, looking from one detective to the other. “Why would you want someone like me? I can’t fight. I don’t even know how to shoot a gun.”

“I’m asking you,” Dazai said pointedly, “if you would be interested in becoming a sketch artist. I mean, it just so happens that we are in dire need of one—(“No one said that!” Kunikida roared)—and you happen to have the exact skill set we are looking for! Not to mention you’re an Ability User... Just think of all the people you could help.”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled, looking away, “Wouldn’t someone like me be more of a burden than an asset? I can’t even control my Ability, much less use it to help people—”

“But what if you could control it?”

I froze. Having had no control of my Ability for my entire life, the possibility hadn’t even occurred to me...

“There’s a way?” I asked, looking back up just as Dazai’s grin turned into a triumphant smirk. “How?”

“I could tell you,” he drawled, his smirk growing even wider, “But it’s a closely guarded secret. You’d have to join us if you want to find out... Of course, I’d be more than happy to vouch for you if you’d like to apply—”

“Dazai—!! You—!”

Kunikida was on his feet.

“We can’t just offer a job to every stray Ability User we rescue from the Port Mafia! Atsushi was one thing but—”

“Oh my, so you’d be perfectly fine sending a nice girl like her back into the jaws of the Port Mafia? Really, I thought better of you, Kunikiiiiiida-kun—”

“That’s not what I said!”

“So you agree, we should take her in?”

Kunikida’s face was in his hands.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help, but it’s not our decision to make! And besides, she’s clearly been through enough, what makes you think she would agree to—”

“I’ll do it.”

Kunikida’s mouth dropped open. He looked stunned.

“You will—? Wait, no, I never said I agreed—”

“Let me apply,” I said, looking him firmly in the eyes. “I want to help people. I’ve always wanted to. Isn’t that what you do here at the Agency? Use your special Abilities to make their lives better?”

“That’s true,” Kunikida admitted, folding his arms over his chest, “But this can be a dangerous job. Especially for a non-combatant. You almost died today! Why do you want to help people so bad? In fact, let me ask you...”

His eyes flashed from behind his glasses, his expression fierce.

“Why did you go so far for a neighbor with whom you weren’t particularly close?”

I glared right back.

“I had to save her.”

“But it sounds like you already did, when you pulled her off the sidewalk—”

“That’s not good enough!” I burst out, startling Kunikida. “How could I say I saved her, truly saved her, if I knew she was going to die in a week and I did nothing to stop it?”

My hands clenched into fists.

“That doesn’t count. Saving someone means seeing it through to the end, to fully committing yourself and doing what’s right! Isn’t that what you did for me? What both of you did to bring me here today?”

Kunikida was struck dumb. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Dazai got to his feet.

“I think it’s about time I take Kusunoki-san back to her apartment,” he said, making his way to the door, his long tanned trench coat swishing elegantly as he moved.

He patted Kunikida on the shoulder.

“I’ll let you think about what we should tell the President later.”

Kunikida instantly flushed an angry, embarrassed pink.

“Dazai, you—”

Ignoring his partner, Dazai called out to me.

“Kusunoki-san? I won’t be taking you back to your original apartment tonight. We’ll be going to one of the Agency’s safe houses instead. After everything that’s happened, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Port Mafia had staked out your building and had someone ready and waiting for you at home. And if you’re wondering, Yamazaki-san is on her way to her nephew’s place in Nagano, so you won’t need to worry about her.”

“But what about my things?” I asked, “What am I gonna tell the landlord?”

“It’s already been taken care of,” Dazai replied, opening the door for me. “Shall we?”

#dazai x oc #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai #doppo kunikida #fanfiction

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safflowerseason · 5 years

Text

veep rewatch 3.01

Some New Beginnings

aka - The One With the Book Tour

Richard! I love Richard. I love what he brought to the Veep ensemble and I love that the dumbest, purest person in the ensemble ended up as the sidekick to the other dumbest and most vile person in the ensemble. I didn’t mind that he suddenly had a doctorate in American constitutional law or whatever (it’s not like being an academic means you are a functional adult with practical life skills), and even though his rise to the presidency in S7 is patently stupid, I just love his bumbling, relentlessly positive, and super literal approach to life. Sam Richardson is great.

“I call it Some New Beginnings because it’s plural!”

Now begins the reign of Kathleen Felix Hager, who immediately injects more life into Selina and Amy’s business wardrobes. We won’t really see the change until the next few episodes—Selina always wears a red dress in the premiere, and Amy’s at a wedding where she can’t wear a monochrome skirt-suit or a shirt-dress—but still, it’s very exciting!! And KFH does manage a slight departure with Amy’s formalwear, which has previously tended to dark colors and conservative necklines. This turquoise dress is the brightest and lightest color we’ve seen on Amy so far, and she looks stunning.

As discussed previously, I appreciate that the costume team did not feel the need to vacuum-pack a clearly post-baby Anna Chlumsky into some Spanx underneath her dress, or choose a looser dress for her to wear. The dress is very well-tailored and they’re not trying to hide anything—every newfound curve is on display. Meanwhile, Dan looks very good in his totally-not-intentional matching suit and not at all like Amy’s boyfriend. It’s not like he’s standing next to her in pictures and sharing the cost of a wedding present and making jokes about the fact that they’re basically married. What a ridiculous notion.

Mike: See what everyone's gifting us? Some New Beginnings, Our Next American Journey. Dan: Really well written…by me. (He’s offscreen for this line, but I love this little aside…one day I’m going to write a one-shot where Dan writes Selina’s book. Ugh, Writer!Dan...so hot.)

Amy: Selina’s never been away without us this long before. Dan: I guess this is what it’s gonna to be like when our kids go to college too, huh, sweetie? Amy: Yeah, dream the fuck on, Dan. Dan: You know I'm only being nice to you because I know that Selina's gonna make me the campaign manager. Dan’s version of being nice to Amy is teasing her about their future children. I cannot. This whole exchange is just too much for my heart now. (Also, what a ballsy thing to say while Amy is ostensibly dating another man. Dan must be feeling very confident in his relationship with Amy at this moment.)

His unhinged impatience with Hughes not announcing is some neat foreshadowing that he’s going to be a terrible campaign manager.

I enjoy Mike and Wendy’s relationship…Kathy Najimy is lovely and funny, and she and Matt Walsh have a fun chemistry. She has a kind of smooth composure to her manner that’s a good contrast with the more frenetic energy of Selina’s staff.

I like to think part of the reason Dan snarks at Amy for not having a second phone is that he really just wants to be scheming with her at all times.

Selina: So, these rumors, right? I'm getting Maddox. What are you getting? Richard: I…I’m not getting a huge amount, if I'm being honest. Selina: Hey, Richard, no offense— Richard: None taken. Selina:—you’re a catastrophe.

In general, Iannucci Veep is better at marking time than Mandel Veep, but seriously…when is this wedding happening? We know it’s been two months since the S2 finale, in which both Selina and Amy appeared to be wearing clothes appropriate for mid-late D.C. spring (long sleeved dresses on both of them). So if it’s two months later, does that mean we’re in May-June? The end of June can be hot in D.C., but everyone is walking around outside dressed like it’s a pleasant spring day. Furthermore, the timeline is complicated by Episode 2, when it seems like we’re suddenly in early autumn…but also, Mike is on his honeymoon and Jonah has clearly just been fired! So WHEN is this wedding?! (Some of this confusion is obviously influenced by the uncontrollable dimensions of filming on location, such as weather…)

Love how Ben goes straight to the minibar in Selina’s suite.

Ben: So where’s the team? Selina: They’re all at Mike’s wedding…I kind of miss ‘em. *phone rings* Oh, it’s just Gary, press ignore.

Dan and Jonah’s scene in the bathroom made me actually kind of miss their DC bro antagonistic energy. I can’t believe they shared no scenes together in S7!

First mention of Bill Ericsson…considering how many political flubs/bone-headed campaign decisions Bill actually makes in the series, he doesn’t exactly live up the all-knowing ice-god of strategy reputation they give him in the beginning. (My blog is basically an anti-Bill Ericsson blog now, sorry.)

Dan: You keep a second phone there? Hypocritical…and horny. Love Reid Scott’s eyebrow arch on this line.

Jonah: “Team Veep goes into meltdown as Sec Def Maddox news breaks”….And upload the money shot. Sue: I hate how he learned English from pornography.

Richard: Ma’am, if you need any help with your campaign, I'm real good in a high-pressure situation. Selina: Really? In what sense “good”? Richard: Well, I was all over that book line thing.

It is intriguing how…active Dan is in this episode compared to Amy, or to be more specific, how his actions are highlighted by the script in a way that hers are not. He manipulates Jonah to get the ball rolling on the President’s announcement, runs back to the White House to witness/further exacerbate the fallout from that, actually asks Selina to make him the campaign manager, and in general is just furiously scheming all over the place. And it’s all explicitly tied to his desire to be the campaign-manager. Meanwhile, Amy is Hendrix-texting and presumably dealing with the Maddox news in some way, but we don’t really see her doing it. This will be a trend to follow in the first half of the season…some interesting gender dimensions to trace, for sure.

Kent: Don’t go interrupting any major sporting events! Unless it’s golf.

Jonah: I’ll be back! I’m gonna be back as the fucking President. Jonah Ryan, 2026! Staffer: That’s a midterms year, Jonah. Jonah: Well then I’ll change it!

I tend to think that Jonah’s career as a politician was a Mandel-era idea, but I do wonder with this line what Iannucci’s team of writers had planned for the character, if they also saw Jonah as an actual campaigning politician rather than just representative of the scuzzy underlings who populate D.C.

If it’s day six of the book tour, it makes you wonder how long Selina has been separated from her team. In light of Amy’s comment, it’s interesting to think about the logistical ramifications of it…six days feel like a stretch for Selina to be without her full staff, especially Gary and Amy. Not to mention Dan would want to gloat on the road about the success of “his” book. Were they just all on the book tour with Selina and then flew back to DC for a quick weekend wedding break? That would explain why they all appear to arrive together, at the very least.

“The seven foot mouth” is maybe my favorite Jonah insult of all time.

Amy’s drunk dancing is so cute! (In contrast, it is literally impossible for me to imagine Dan drunk dancing.)

#veep rewatch #3.01 #veep season three #some new beginnings #the seven foot mouth #dan x amy #selina meyer #dan egan #amy brookheimer

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okay-j-hannah · 5 years

Text

Many Conclusions

Harry Potter : Fic

Fred x Reader

Word Count: 2458

Warnings: HERE’S PART 4 BABEEEEEE! Meaning I’m warning you there’s extensive amounts of fluff to make up for lost time :) Also I got SOOO carried away here - this is the longest one yet

Request: “Surely one last part after many returns!? I feel like it’s not quite over yet I need some small form of more closure hahaha 🤗” - Anon

A/N: The moment everyone has waited for - the wedding that’s been in the works for years; but the journey meaning so much more than the destination.

Here’s a link to

Part 1: Many Battles

Part 3: Many Returns

(Y/N) stared in the mirror, applying touches to her blush while Ginny twirled her wand against her hair.

“Absolutely breathtaking, (Y/N),” she whispered, emotion evident in her throat. “This has been a long time coming.”

“Is it sad that I kind of wish we weren’t the last ones to get married,” (Y/N) whispered, a giggle in her tone.

Ginny laughed, “What’s important is that it’s finally happening!”

A baby cooed in the background and Ginny immediately left to take care of her baby girl.

It’s been quite a few years since Fred’s miraculous return to real life. The rest of the Weasley family had started their own; each married and having their kids.

Fred and (Y/N), though they spoke of it often, never became a part of the races until much later. Fred was always discouraged about this. His recovery had been slow with many twists and turns.

“Why don’t we try taking a few steps today?” (Y/N) asked, preening the vase of flowers left over from Harry and Ginny’s wedding reception. “You did so well dancing with your sister last weekend! I’m sure you can do…”

“I don’t think so, (Y/N). I’m really tired today.” He slumped in his hospital bed; the covers pulled up to his chin.

She flickered her eyes to him with slight disappointment, “How about we open that box of tricks George sent over? You know he won’t start selling them without your approval.”

Fred sighed, “Ron already reviewed them. And Angelina already has the forms written, I saw them yesterday when they visited.”

“That’s just cause she’s his girlfriend – she takes over all the things Ron neglects,” she attempted at a snicker, but frowned at his lack of reaction. “Fred, will you please look at me?”

He closed his eyes finally and mumbled, “I think my lungs are seizing again. I don’t think walking would be a…”

“But just because you froze up yesterday doesn’t mean that you will today!”

A knock on the suite door announced Hermione’s arrival, “Oh, (Y/N)! You’re beautiful. I love the curls, Ginny.” She settled her own baby carrier next to Ginny’s; little baby Hugo made soft noises in response to small Lily’s squeal of delight.

“Fred won’t be able to hold it in,” she laughed, “He can be so emotional sometimes.”

(Y/N) nodded quietly, “Especially after the accident.”

Though she was turned away from them, she could still see the exchange of sympathetic faces in the mirror.

“All I care about is getting my ten galleons from Bill,” Ginny continued, extracting a smile and moving towards the bouquet set near the window. “I just knew you guys would tie the knot before winter.”

“Is our love life just full of bets now?” (Y/N) laughed, watching Hermione use her wand to steam press the wedding dress hanging by the closet.

“We’ve all got children now, (Y/N). We’ve got to find a way to be entertained besides thrown dry cereal and finger paintings on the walls.”

She smiled at this, wondering about the children that she wanted someday. It was something that they weren’t sure would even happen, especially with the time it took Fred to even be able to do the simplest things.

It turns out that waking from a Dark Magic induced coma was difficult, but only the tip of the iceberg when it came to being fully recovered – to walk again, to laugh again, to work again.

These were the memories that she thought of as the girls helped her with her gown. These were the memories that brought up the treasure of their relationship.

“Please don’t do this, Fred!” (Y/N) yelled, no tears in her eyes this time around. She was used to this conversation at this point. “I won’t leave you because of some silly setbacks!”

Fred swallowed hard, hardness in his eyes and no famous smile on his face, “I can’t lay here and watch you throw your life away. All you do is sit here day after day and watch as I fail to improve. As I fail to do the everyday things a normal person can do!”

“And you think that’s a good enough reason to break up with me?” she scoffed. “I don’t see this as throwing my life away. This is me investing in my life! I’m making something here, Fred.”

He was sitting up in his bed, something he wasn’t able to do a week before without help, “And you’re spending too much time doing it. You’re always here, (Y/N)! Aren’t there things you wish you could be doing right now? Literally anything else than sit here and watch me struggle.”

“Of course there are other things I want to do,” she retorted, watching Fred flail his hands in agreement.

“You see? I don’t want to be the reason you…”

“There are a hundred things I want to do. But there’s no way I’m doing any of them without you there.”

He faltered, flustered that she wasn’t gaining his point. Over a dozen break ups and she still wasn’t getting the message. He almost wished he was able to storm out of the room. Then again, if he was able to he wouldn’t feel obligated to break up with her.

“Fred, I’m making something out of this. Something special and worthwhile. I’m investing my time in something that I want to last. Us.”

He refused to look at her now, his eyes growing red.

“How many times do I have to make this speech for you to understand? I’m doing this for us. I’m spending all my time here for us. I’m putting all my faith in you for us! Why won’t you fight for that?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to be the one holding you back. Bill and Fleur already have two kids, Ron and Hermione are engaged, Harry and Ginny are buying a house, and George…”

“Wants you to be standing right beside him as his best man,” (Y/N) finished. “We still have a few months to make that happen, but Fred, you’ve got to believe in yourself every bit as much as I believe in you. With the amount of crap you give me why do you think I’m still here?”

He pouted and picked at the hem of his blankets, “Because you feel sorry that…”

“Because there’s no way in hell I’m going to do anything without you. All your siblings are married? Great, we will be too one day. Some have kids already? Perfect! Then our kids will have older cousins to take care of them.” She knelt down and grasped his hand, forcing him to look at her.

His eyes watered at the sight of her face.

“Please don’t throw my investment away,” she practically begged. “Don’t make all this time I’ve spent with you worth nothing. I’ve waited months for you to wake up. I’ve waited months for you to get your feet on the ground. And I’m going to wait as many months as it takes until you’re able to take me out to dinner, get down on one knee, and ask me to be yours. It is so worth the wait, Fred.”

He gazed at her with the most broken and cracked gaze she had ever seen. The mischievous glint was long forgotten. The classic boisterous laughter was long missed.

But he cracked a smile. A watery and perfect smile.

“What have I ever done to deserve you?”

Molly frantically ran around the suite with her wand waving at anything she could tidy, “There have been five perfect weddings done under my charge and so help me this one will make it six.”

Ginny nudged her future sister-in-law with a smirk, “No matter how many weddings she’s a part of, I don’t think she’ll ever be relaxed.”

Many of the other bridesmaids laughed, finishing their own specks of make-up and hair. (Y/N) gazed at them, a feeling like no other swelling in her chest. Pure admiration.

Fleur brushing Domonique’s hair while scolding Victorie on dropping the flower petals all over the vanity. Audrey scuttling around, realizing she’s still wearing her healer cap and laughing, tossing it to her eldest daughter with a wink. Angelina cracking jokes with a group of friends, bouncing a toddler on her hip. Hermione and Luna chatting about some bizarre theories no doubt, both smiling sweetly.

It was more than (Y/N) could have asked for. Her family here to celebrate with her.

“(Y/N).” The first male voice she had heard that day: Mr. Weasley.

He strode up to her and brought her into a hug, careful not to smudge her complexion.

“How’s Molly?” she snickered, grabbing her bouquet.

“As expected,” his smile brought crinkles to his eyes. “But more importantly, how are you?”

She took a shaky breath, full of anticipated emotion, “I’m ready. I’ve been good and ready for a long time.”

He nodded, proud to call her his daughter, “I promise I won’t let you trip.”

That got her laughing, “Thank you. For doing this. I – If my dad would…”

Mr. Weasley pulled her into another hug, “This is an honor for me, (Y/N). I am honored to walk you down the aisle.” He pulled away, “Who knew I would be able to do it twice?”

Molly suddenly appeared, “Arthur, there you are! The ceremony begins in a few minutes. We need to get lined up.” She started clapping her hands together for the bridesmaids and little flower girls to get into somewhat of a formation.

(Y/N) and Arthur shared a knowing look and she lifted the bottom of her dress, following everyone out into the hallway.

She could hear the music before she even made it to the yard. The butterflies she always thought would appear didn’t. She was so sure. So steady in this. She knew this was the right thing.

She faced the line of people ready to walk down the aisle before her. The sudden fresh air of the outdoors lightened her skin and brightened her mood even more than she thought possible. The gates were opened by Bill and Fleur and they proceeded to descend down the cobblestone path towards the alter.

Pinpricks met (Y/N)’s skin and she clutched onto Arthur’s arm, excitement the prime suspect. Molly came to her side and took a deep breath, tears already on the brink of falling.

“Dear, you are so beautiful,” she whispered, covering her mouth. “Fred is the luckiest man alive.”

Fred clung onto (Y/N), his legs shaking as they slowly turned the corner and walked down the aisle and towards George. The brothers met gazes and the reaction would move even the stubbornest person.

George beamed – prouder than (Y/N) had ever seen him. Though Fred was concentrating on his legs moving, he stared at his brother. His first real companion.

This was the moment all of those hospital walks were meant for.

(Y/N) practically glowed, her own tears falling from her eyes, finally able to look up towards Fred – and not down towards his bed. She almost forgot how tall he actually was.

George held out his hand for his twin to take, reaching over to hold him steady.

“Congratulations,” Fred whispered. “I think we can stop the ceremony now. I think that’s all we needed to see.” He grinned as wide as he could, shakingly embracing his brother.

(Y/N) laughed so genuinely, covering her mouth before a sob left. That was the first real joke she had heard him say in weeks.

Soon the line began to lessen, people leaving for their seats – paving the way for (Y/N) and Mr. Weasley.

The tears were already forming before she passed the brilliantly decorated gate.

The cobblestones were littered with white and pink petals, left for the entrance of the bride. White chairs lined either side of the path, dozens of people standing to gaze at the breathtaking star.

The dancing light and soft flowers were nothing compared to the scene directly ahead.

“What is this?” Fred asked, standing by the window and practicing his breathing.

A new little puppy came bounding into the room. Their room. A flat they had bought together.

“I believe it’s called a dog,” (Y/N) laughed, watching the young animal reach at Fred’s legs, panting and whimpering.

“What I mean is why is it here?” Unable to contain himself he reached down to pick it up, letting it lick his face. He couldn’t do that a few days ago.

“Something to help,” (Y/N) responded, setting down a bag of dog supplies. “She’ll be able to help with your walking, your exercises, even your breathing.”

He chuckled as the puppy nibbled on his fingers, “What are we going to call her?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Get over here and kiss me.”

She laughed, hands behind her back, “Nope. You have to come to me – and remember, no tripping and I’ll get George to send you fireworks.”

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if it was some great challenge bestowed upon him. He wouldn’t have even tried moving a few months ago.

The alter was wooden and entwined with beautifully draped vines and leaves, perfectly framing what she wanted to see most.

Fred Weasley. Standing there. Without help.

He proudly lifted his chest, swallowing hard at (Y/N)’s appearance. The tears in her eyes were already falling. And his were close.

It was almost as if he was struggling to breathe and for a moment (Y/N) thought it was from the aftereffects of Dark Magic. But he smiled, knowing her worries, and gave a reassuring nod.

She got closer and closer to him. Without Ginny’s excellent charm work, she was sure her makeup would be ruined by now. Fred was positively beaming at her, his lip starting to quiver from holding in his emotion.

Mr. Weasley led her to his son, lifting their hands together and making his exit. The two on the stand only had eyes for each other.

Fred gazed at her so intently that she thought he’d lost something in her eyes. But a sudden bark from the audience broke the tension and the audience seated at last with a laugh.

Their dog Thalia wasn’t a puppy anymore and stood protectively around the mass of little cousins in the front row.

This was the moment. This was what they had built. This is what they had worked so hard for.

They didn’t need to say it – they already knew. Fred gave a suggestive raised eyebrow that made her laugh; giving her an up and down look before emitting a low whistle.

Playing it off with a joke as always. But she knew. She knew what this meant. They both knew what this meant.

And it was so worth the wait.

~~~

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