#contributed even more! he's absolutely stunning i can and would cry over him. & he's such an amazing unit. ive been able to clear so

[revserrayyu]

One HSR Character a Day Day 5: Aventurine

[tender-rosiey]

FALLING

— oikawa tooru x f!reader

| part of the “it couldn’t have gone worse” collab |

word count: 1.88k

ᴀ/ɴ: lol look at that loser *sobs* I love him so much pls be real ANYWAYS this is my contribution to the it couldn’t have gone worse collab by @luvbub <33 I really tried getting the theme right ugh for some reason I feel like it isn’t accurate also let’s treat it as a late HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOORUUUUUUUUUU 😫😭💕

iwaizumi is an asshole with big biceps.

oikawa was done for, completely done for. there’s literally nothing he could do right now to redeem this situation.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU PLANNED A BLIND DATE FOR ME?!” he yells at the top of his lungs while iwaizumi is clasping his hands together, trying to compose himself.

iwaizumi sighs, “listen, I figured you should try getting out of this hole of overworking by interacting with others.”

oikawa pipes up, “hey! I interact with plenty of people! even more than you,” and he smirks in triumph.

that doesn’t last long.

iwaizumi, raises an eyebrow and a threatening fist before oikawa shrinks once again.

“but what if she is mean and one of those girls?” he shudders at the thought.

iwaizumi laughs at this excuse before assuring him, “she is a really good friend of mine and one of the sweetest people I have ever met. don’t worry,” and a smirks settles on his lips as he watches oikawa fidget with his fingers trying to come up with anything else.

“can you cancel?—“

“nope. I already told her that you are off from training so you can’t have any excuses anyways or you will end up looking like an ass.”

oikawa grumbles; now he really can’t get out of this and because it would be unfair to you as well, he decides that he will go, earning a pat on the back from iwa, “you’re really mean.”

“cry about it.”

it’s the following day when he’s getting ready for the date; he figures that he should go for a casual look since it’s a date in a restaurant that isn’t fancy. it seems like you prefer simple outings, and he finds himself adding a bonus point to your evaluation in his head.

“okay! let’s go,” he gives himself a small pep talk so he doesn’t make things awkward today though he doesn’t know why since he is normally pretty good at making conversations flow and finally he is out of the door.

not too long after, he is in front of the door of the restaurant. he goes to the table that is reserved under his name (by iwa) and sits down, looks like you aren’t here yet, but just as he thinks about it, he hears the bell of the restaurant ring and his head turns to see who it is.

his eyes widen, his lips part slightly and he feels like his heart has been stabbed by 4 million arrows of cupid. it’s you, his crush since middle school till high school and even now, it seems. you look gorgeous, absolutely stunning and he can’t take his eyes off of you.

looks like iwaizumi was still in contact with you and asked you if you are willing to go on a blind date.

“yo, y/n,” you hear him say on the other line.

you reply, “yeah, haji?”

“what if,” he pauses, “like hypothetically I set you on a blind date?”

you drop the spatula in your hand and the noise makes iwaizumi realize he might have made a mistake, “are you serious?”

“yeah, but don’t worry he is someone we both know and are close to!”

you pick your poor spatula up once again, “does he know it’s me?”

“no, it’s a little surprise for the both of you.”

you sigh, and he hears it, “if you don’t want to then I cancel it, it’s fine—“

“no, I will go.”

“really?!” you hear and you chuckle.

you hum, “yeah, I will trust your judgement.”

it hurts him just a bit that there was a chance you were going to be someone other than him, but he figures that if being someone else makes you happy then so be it.

he now sees that you are scanning the tables until your eyes land on him, and he feels his heart do a flip when he sees the relief that washes over your face. you walk towards his table, gently waving at him with a small smile and he thinks he might die from happiness.

he frantically stands up, his hand leaning on the table, “oh hey!”

“it’s been a long time—ah!” he feels his hand slip as he makes contact with floor harshly and is now on his knees, pulling the cloth on the table with him as it falls on his back and he thanks the god that there wasn’t anything on it.

“oh god! are you okay?” you ask, voice laced with concern, hand stretched out to help him which he takes.

his eyes are glued to the ground after he gets up and he doesn’t know whether he wants to scream because people are staring, or because he embarrassed himself in front of you, or that he is holding your hand.

instead, he laughs, “yeah, just my dignity is severely wounded now,” and his response makes you laugh in return.

for a moment, a smile is plastered on your faces before you both pull away, awkwardly chuckling and finally sitting down.

“sooo, how has life been since you graduated?” he attempts at striking a conversation, with a rather excited yet gentle tone.

you giggle at his excitement making a light red hue paint his cheeks, “things have been getting better these days! like yes, it gets tough sometimes but I am happy about it,” you laugh lightly, “and you? heard argentina had a blast when you got there.”

he leans back, slowly gaining the confidence to display his charm back, “oh please, do flatter me more.”

“looks like the great oikawa is as charming as ever!”

a genuine smile makes its way to his face before he continues his small theatric act, “of course! my charms are a part of the limited edition oikawa tooru package!”

“you’re back to visit japan, right?” you pause, “for how long?”

“maybe 2 weeks,” this conversation suddenly reminds him of the time when he announced his decision of traveling. back then, you were rather close. however, the both of you knew that it would be rather hard to stay in contact, specially considering the busy schedule you will have because of your universities.

so you let the world have its way and soon you and him weren’t talking anymore.

“I—“ you both start at the same time before going quiet, then speaking again at the same time, “you go first!”

an awkward small laugh leaves the two of you.

soon, your meals are served to you cutting the conversation, or at least the attempt one, off and you are first greeted by soup.

the aroma it lets out is pure heaven and you, coming here on an empty stomach, eagerly held your spoon and dove in.

“wait, y/n—“

quickly you drop the spoon to cover your mouth then reach your hand to get some water. the soup was hotter, a lot hotter than it seemed, “how are you still this clumsy?” you hear him muse while laughing and you grumble.

he ignores your glare and takes a spoonful of his soup that is rather colder than yours, humming in delight at the taste. lucky for him, karma is a bitch. for some reason, the new cloth on the table managed to stick to the band of his watch and is pulled with him, causing the contents of the bowls to spill all over the table.

he is left with his empty spoon, eyes wide, and absolutely speechless before he slams the table standing, “no more sitting in this damn restaurant!”

you don’t even have the time to reply before you’re pulled by the wrist outside, only hearing a faint, “sir?!” from the waiter.

you notice his touch is rather tender even in his hurried state and his hold is warm; you almost get lost in his touch, wanting more.

almost.

“oh, are you kidding me?!”

you hear oikawa yell, and your gaze snaps to his face, now soaked with water. his hair is damp and a pout is gracing his lips, face practically fuming, and you notice that you are pretty soaked as well.

it was raining, at 2pm in summer.

he lets go of your hand before he stomps while complaining, “honestly, if we were cursed then we wouldn’t even have THIS bad of a luck!”

it’s like a small child throwing a tantrum.

you see him holding his head as he kneels down, grumbling and mumbling about how embarrassing this is and how he hit the jackpot in bad dates.

you kneel down beside him, “am I considered part of the bad date?”

he looks at you like you’re crazy before he stand up once again, “heavens no! of course not!”

you follow suit while he continues talking.

“you’re literally the only good part of this day,” you guys start walking until you finally find shelter, “to be frank, I wanted to be able to woo you and make you swoon even on our first date.”

“but look,” then he signals at himself, “I look like a mess; I spilled the soup and fell today more times than iwa-chan has hit me.”

you giggle and he looks at you offended, “you’re laughing?!”

“it was actually quite entertaining for me,” he quirks an eyebrow and you continue, “seeing you lose your composure and stuff. it was pretty cute.”

you interject, “plus! it’s not like I don’t know you; we have known each other since middle school, jeez,” you wheeze at memory, “you act like I never saw you do things more embarrassing than this.”

“shut up! we don’t talk about!” oikawa huffs.

he rolls his eyes, letting out an aggressive, “hmph!” before retorting, “at least, you weren’t the one falling down and getting soup spilled all over your pretty date!”

soon, you slip on the slippery pavement and oikawa’s hand reaches yours in a hurry to catch you only to fall with you.

you deadpan, “you were saying?”

“I am so sorry—“ he stands up clumsily and helps you as well, and you guys are now holding hands, on the pavement, under a bus waiting stop, super soaked, and are both a mess.

he clears his throat before starting, “If you are okay with it, we could—like go on a second date? so we completely forget about this mess.”

“wouldn’t this date serve as a splendid memory?” you snicker and he flicks your forehead.

“I would rather you remember me with sweet things and being absolutely enamored by me.”

you nod, “sure, a second ‘first date’ it is then.”

“hush, if iwa asks about anything, just say it was amazing and will have a second date.”

you tilt your head, “and if he asks what happened?”

“just describe what will happen in our upcoming first date!”

you laugh, “when would that be?”

“tomorrow!” he falters a bit, “if you are free, I-I mean!”

“yeah, I am free!”

“good!”

“good!”

welp, this was awkward.

he looks at his feet for a moment, “do you want me to walk you home?”

“are you free to do that?”

he nods and you reply, “sure then.”

you feel his hand slowly inch towards yours, and you decide to just hold it; you catch him from the corner of your eyes, a small smile on his face.

bless iwaizumi the asshole and his big biceps.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen

copyright © 2020 tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[damn-stark]

La vie en rose pt.1

Pietro Maximoff x reader

Requested by anon “I think this is a good idea. So Pietro didn’t die in Age Of Ultron but dies in endgame so afterwards reader has same powers as wanda btw makes her own reality sorta like wandavision and they live in the town together and it’s basically just wandavision plot and jimmy woo and darcy are trying to get in meanwhile. I really hope this isn’t to long for you! Maybe you could do 2 parts if you’d like that? I just had this idea for a while thanks! 🤍”

Warning- ANGST, fluff, slight swearing, mentions of death and complete heartbreak

———-

“NO!”

Was it possible to feel your heartbreak, to hear the pain and agony in your ears?

One moment there was hope—hope that everything was going to be fine, that all your dreams and plans that you had made with the Pietro; the man you loved, the love of your life, was going to come true. But now there was nothing but despair as you saw his life hang by a thin line, tangled in the hand of Thanos.

“Let him go!” You growl, lifting your hands and seeing yellow hues emit from your palms as you don’t hesitate to use your powers. You dig your heels into the dirt ground and bend your wrist back to build up an energy ball and then throw it at Thanos gauntlet in a powerful stream. “Let him go!” You repeat.

Thanos gaze snaps to his gauntlet as he notices the powerful yellow hues hitting the stones, before tilting his head to look at you in stunned disbelief as he sees your eyes beginning to glow yellow as you use your other hand to shoot out more power at the stones without as much as breaking a sweat.

“I said let him go!” You bellow as you feel yourself add more strength to your attempts, seeing the yellow hues get brighter and stronger. You drift your gaze to Pietro and offer him an assuring hopeful look that he mirrors as Thanos grip around his throat falters and finally let’s him go.

Pietro at the opportunity gasps for air but doesn’t take his time to get completely better, instead he runs to you and attempts to rush you out of there, but you decline his attempts. “No, I can destroy the stones, help your sister.”

Pietro shakes his head and grabs your wrists, “I’m not leaving without you and I’m not letting this monster kill you.”

A small smile spreads on your lips and just as you’re going to respond, you feel yourself slide back as Thanos begins to use the stones against you, adding a powerful force field that blocks your actions. You snap your attention back to him and push back stronger, feeling your eyebrows pinch together and your face twist into a focused and irritated expression. It was beginning to get harder, but you pushed through and broke the force field, once again hitting the stones. Albeit Thanos didn’t like the idea and matched your attempts, aiming for your body to weaken you instead.

Pietro noticed and sped his way to stop him, in that moment in a blink of an eye missing Thanos use a stone to stop him, once again grabbing him by his throat, but this time instead effortlessly snapping his neck and looking at you with an evil smirk, knowing that what he did would stop your attempts instantly.

And it did, you stopped using your powers and ran towards Pietro's lifeless body as Thanos drops him and finds his chance to leave.

“Pietro!” You cry, dropping beside him and cradling his body, seeing his blue eyes unmoving. “Pietro?” You whimper, feeling hot tears stream down your face and an inkling of hope in your heart. But it was faint and just made up of denial.

“Pietro! Please!” You cry, brushing his hair out of his eyes and lifting him closer to you. Nothing else mattered around you, not the fight that was being fought around you, all that mattered was seeing him give any sign of life. “Pietro?”

But him giving any sign of life...was impossible.

“NO!”

——

*SOME TIME LATER*

“Pietro?” You call out, feeling your smile begin to fall as you don’t hear him respond, or see him anywhere around. “Pietro? Where are you?” Your heart begins to pick up its pace and you pick up your pace as you search the house. “Pietro?”

You stop at the center of the living room and let out a deep exhale to think clearly, to check over your surroundings, to feel him—

“Y/N.”

At the sound of Pietro's voice by your ear you jump and let out a small gasp before spinning around as you grab your chest. “Pietro, what the hell?”

Said man snickers and steps back, keeping his hands hidden behind his back. “You called.”

“Yeah,” you sigh with relief, “you weren’t around, I was beginning to worry.”

“Oh, well, there's a good explanation for that,” Pietro says as he begins to approach you with a mischievous grin on his lips, “I went to get you something.”

“Oh?” You quiered, lifting a brow and placing your hands on your hips as your eyes drop to his hidden hands. “You got me something, or did you “take something without buying?”

Pietro shrugs and begins to walk around you slowly, making sure to keep facing you. “It’s just a friendly contribution for saving the world. It’s well deserved.”

You chuckle and turn with him to keep your eyes on him. “What did you get me?”

“Close your eyes.” He commands.

You do so without hesitation and feel the warmth of Pietros hand wrap yours to pull them from your sides and keep them out in front of you. Anticipation begins to brew at the pit of your stomach at not knowing what it was, you feel yourself smile nervously wanting to take a peek, but before you could try he places something silky and long on your hands and speaks up. “Open them.”

Doing so, you instantly look down and see a pretty white silk dress; your mouth falls open in awe and you carefully grab the sleeves of the dress to lift it and get a full view of the dress. “Pietro this is beautiful.”

“It’s for our date,” he reveals softly. “Do you need help putting it on?”

You flicker your gaze up to him and grin brightly.

“I’ll go slow,” he quips softly with a smirk, “I know you like it when I go slow.”

You cup his cheek and shake your head. “How about I surprise you?”

“Fine,” he sighs in defeat. “Until then I’ll get everything ready.”

You part away and do you as you had told him, taking some time to get ready even if you could do it within seconds with your powers.

And at first, after you had finished getting ready, you were nervous to go downstairs and reunite with him—he still just had that effect on you. But as you thought of it, as you thought clearly, there was nothing to be nervous about, this was Pietro, the same man you were cellmates with while in hydra, the same man you fought by in Sokovia and Berlin, he was the same man you went in hiding with, and the same man you fell in love with. He was your Pietro. So you confidently walked to the top stairs, grabbed onto the railing and saw Pietro speed to the end of the stairs to wait for you to walk down.

He had on a nice suit and had a bouquet of roses in his hand that didn’t outshine the charming grin on his face—in the furthest corner of your mind, you knew this was wrong, but seeing this, seeing him do things like this made you happy and reminded you of him, you couldn’t let go of him yet. Not yet.

You grin brightly and feel your heart flutter. “Pietro.”

“My love.” He muttered softly.

You continue to walk down the stairs to meet him below, grabbing his hand as he offered it to you, while with his the other hand he handed you the bouquet of white roses.

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” He whispered in your ear after he had leaned in.

You grab onto his hand tighter and smile wider, “you do too.” Your eyes drift to the living room where the couch’s and the tv were replaced by a fancy candlelight dinner setup, causing you to gasp softly and take a moment to take in what he had set up. “Wow, Pietro,” you look back at him to complement his work, but it’s at that moment you look at him that you see his face as it was when he died; pale and lifeless. You tear your gaze away and cover your mouth out of the shock and fear.

Pietro notices and of course questions it. “Y/N, are you okay? Did you not like something?”

You swallow thickly and shake your head, peeking at him and noticing he was back to normal. “No, no, I loved it. I do.”

Pietro sighs, “good it took me long to plan.”

“I love it.” You repeat as you fully turn your head to look at him. “Thank you.”

Pietro stops by the table and you set down the roses, admiring the table he had set up and feeling the corner of your lips slowly tug back into a smile. “Pietro—”

“My love would you have this dance with me?”

You turn around and see him with his hand out towards you, he smiles and then you feel a breeze as he goes to quickly turn on the music that was meant to be on before.

“Now will you have this dance with me?” He asks again more confidently. “Is that how I’m supposed to ask?”

You nod, “yes you are and yes I will have this dance with you.” You take his hand and he pulls you to the middle of the room, not taking long to grab onto your waist and pull you close to him.

“I put on those old songs you like to hear.” He points out as the tune slowly plays.

“I like?” You queried, “or you like?”

“Both. We both like them.”

You express a lighthearted huff of air and begin to move with him as you both begin to sway to the music. The talking stops and the song only sounds around the house, you press yourself closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder whilst you grabbed onto him tighter out of fear he’d disappear. You inhale in deeply to take in that smell of the fancy cologne he loved to wear, to take in the smell of his shampoo he used, to remember what it felt when you smelt it when he was really alive.

“I miss you,” you sigh out with tears stinging your eyes.

“Miss me?” Pietro scoffs in a joking tone, “I’m right here.”

You swear under your breath at your accidental comment, lifting your head and parting away far enough to look into his blue eyes. “I know, I just meant like miss you when you’re gone.”

Pietro narrows his gaze on you but he doesn’t find your comment strange, (you didn’t let him find it strange) instead he makes it out as a joke and laughs. “Well you know I always come back to you as fast as I can.”

“Yeah, I know,” you whisper with a crack in your voice. “I love you, Pietro, so much. I love you.”

“You’re making me blush,” he responds smugly, cupping your cheeks and offering you a sweet smile, “I love you.”

Tears roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but not to cry at the words he uttered. And when he noticed your tears, he smiled brighter and wiped them off. “Don’t cry, I’m right here, it’s okay, I’m right here. I’ll always be by your side so you don’t have to miss me too much. Even if I do love that sentiment.”

Your bottom lip trembles, but to stop yourself from crying you pull him in for a passionate kiss, cupping his cheeks and feeling him smile under the kiss. He grips onto you tighter and deepens the kiss, stopping the both of you from dancing to focus on the kiss. Reminding you by every passing second that you never wanted this to end….

And yet an urgent knock on the door stopped the moment. Pietro parted away and rolled his eyes, focusing on the door and scoffing. “Who could it be?”

You shrug, feeling just as clueless as him, “I don’t know, let’s go check.”

“Is it Wanda? If it is, tell my sweet sister that she chose the most terrible time to come visit.” Pietro remarks as he stays in the living room as you go to open the door; seeing not Wanda, nor Vision, but two strangers that seemed just as surprised as you, or even more so.

“Hello, how can I help you?”

“Oh, wow,” a woman with glasses gasps as she studies you, “you look amazing. Damn it I missed this scene.”

You blink and laugh nervously, “what? What do you mean?”

“Y/N, who is it?” Pietro asks out loud.

“Just solicitors, please go get Wanda, Pietro.”

Without question he does as you say and the man and woman in front of you grow pale and shake their head.

“Who are you?” You repeat in a more threatening voice.

The man steps forward and you move to block his path.

“I’m Agent Woo and this Doctor Darcy,” he reveals, making you freeze.

“What?”

[merakiui]

Ok concept Time

(If you think this is too much don’t post this I understand!)

Cw drugging, implied non con, loss of virginity, SCARAMOCHE BEING A JERK

You are one of the Liyue Qixing who oversees all the banks in Liyue. Now that Rex Lapis had stopped minting the coins a new pile of responsibility had fallsed on to your shoulders. What’s frustrating is that the rest of the Qixing doesn’t want to help and you think that is because Ningguang told them not to. You and her butthead enough on passing of laws. (You want a free market while she wants more governmental regulation)

After recieving another “proposal” from Ningguang you are infuriated. To think she has the audacity to order you around? Absurd. When you seek to take a break from work in a little tea shop you found an adorable young man trying to stike up a conversation.

You know he is a Fatui from the emblem on his clothing, but you do not make it that big of a deal. The northland bank abides the rules of Liyue and brings gold to the market. Of course you agree with Ningguang that they should be treated with caution, but you never viewed them as enemies.

Well, you had to admit that it’s good to let your pent up anger out. Everyone in Liyue seems to worship Ningguang as if she is their archon now, hard to find someone who would criticize her these days.

You are careful to not spill too much, just minor things, but then your mind begins to spin and blur, you did not brought your attendants with you.

That look of horror on your face in the morning was worth countless mora to Scaramouche. Carassing your cheeks gently, he whispered his conditions of keeping this under wraps.

Marry him, so the people of Liyue would not know one of their respectable Qixing had lost her virginity to a Fatui Harbinger.

He doesn’t need to tell you what he did. You’re smart enough to figure that out.

To have one who has so much authority over others now to him makes his ego implode in geometric ratio.

(I love Ningguang I just need an opening hhhhhh)

-wonderful anon

WONDERFUL ANON, I DEMAND A COLLABORATION OTL jk jk ...unless? 👀

But whoaaa that is such a great concept! 10/10! The absolute power trip the Harbingers would get out of taking your virginity. Like,, waaahhh! Scaramouche is definitely at the top of the list for ‘jerk who lives for the virginity-claiming power trip.’ And the forced marriage too?! AAAHH WOWOWOW SCARA WOULD SO DO THAT! Please do not hesitate to bless us with more of your galaxy ideas!!!! 

Okay, ahem. Let me add my thoughts onto this amazing concept.

cw: nsfw, implied non-con, mentions of forced marriage, yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, implied drug usage

You can’t believe you fell for his false charm. More importantly, you can’t believe you didn’t bring your attendants with you. How could you act so foolishly? Even though you had taken care to divulge only minor details about yourself, such as your name and your preferred flavor of tea, it didn’t mean anything to him. He was content to listen and watch while you talked and sipped at your tea, quietly plotting all sorts of maddening things.

It’s very odd when you wake up in a plush bed with him at your side. All sorts of emotions and feelings crash into your just-barely awake self. You’re confused and worried, fearing for your own safety because you just can’t remember what happened the night prior. Your memory only goes back to the tea shop and Scaramouche with his opulent attire and charming grin. And yet now all forms of clothing have been shed and you’re so exposed. It’s more frightening than it is embarrassing, and when he smirks at your horrified expression it all crashes down on you at once.

The reason you’re so groggy and sore: drugs and sex. Of course. That has to be the only explanation for why you feel so miserable, both inside and out. And you’re absolutely speechless as he lays out the conditions, all confidence and pride, as if he didn’t just take something precious from you. Something that you were hoping to give to an actual lover and not some meddling Fatui scumbag.

“Marry you?” You repeat it without meaning to, but it still stuns you all the same. “You can’t be serious.”

“You heard me once, did you not?” His face is incredibly close to yours and you feel the uncanny need to hide under the covers. You surmise that even the most devout of prayers to Rex Lapis won’t be heard over the terrifying pound of your heart. “You shall be engaged to me and we’ll see to it that this little...secret of ours is kept under wraps. Surely that’s fair?”

“Hardly! You...” Your hands come up to cover your face and you’re caught between the urge to suffocate him in the linens or to cry rivers of tears. “You drugged me! And you... My—“

“Was it that special?” 

It was, you want to say, but you refuse to admit it. If you broke down in front of him, it would negate the strength you’re so desperately trying to uphold.

“No... But you can’t just drug someone and then have your way with them! And you can’t force them into marriage either. That’s the definition of insane.”

You feel sick and violated, pinned to a cork board like a deceased butterfly under his serious stare. And then he laughs. His lips turn upward in a sick smile and this man laughs. You’re not amused when you lower your hands to fix him with a glower, hoping he can read through your narrowed eyes and take the hint.

“Well, I did just that,” he finally says after he’s regained his composure, thin fingers grasping your chin. Your skin prickles at his deceitfully soft touch. “I suppose that, by your standards, I would be insane. Is that true?”

You’re too scared to agree and you have no idea what to do now. 

------

WOW OKAY SO!!! This is such a good concept. I just had to write a small snippet to contribute! I also had an idea concerning Ningguang! Even though the two of you disagree and don’t often get along because of your beliefs, she doesn’t think you’re a bad person. So she’s somewhat concerned when she learns that you don’t return to work after your break, and she becomes alarmed when all of your attendants claim to have no idea as to where you could’ve gone. She might not be your best friend, but you’re still one of the Liyue Qixing. Ningguang can’t just ignore it when someone with such an important role suddenly disappears.

Unfortunately, she has no idea where to start looking and the case of your disappearance is most likely handed off to someone who doesn’t exactly care that much. Either way, you’re still stuck with Scaramouche, who will make sure to limit your freedom, and as time ticks away so does your hope of escaping him. You can already hear the nightmarish chime of a forced wedding ceremony.

As for a beginning to this lovely scenario, perhaps the reader is frustrated because of all of the extra work being piled onto their schedule, and so it begins with them angrily heading out for some much-needed air, as you mentioned in the start of your concept. They decide to relax at a tea shop and that’s where they meet Scarymoose Scaramouche. >:) Perhaps he had some of his underlings stalk them and report back to him with the information, which is how he seems to know of your movements and where to find you. 

[resident-of-storybrooke]

Nothing Good Happens After 2AM (Ch 4)

Rating: M (finally earning that for this chapter)

Words: 2900

Read: ao3, ff.net CH 1 CH 2 CH 3

Summary: Emma took Killian home for the holidays as a fake date. Things seemed to be going well…until it didn’t. What happens when two fools in love didn’t confess their love over the holidays like they planned and have to go back home to reality? This. This is what happened…(A twist on fake dating during the holidays)

AN: Well....shit lol here we finally are! I wish I had a good reason for the year and a half delay. Honestly, I got one not so great review and it shook me a bit and I was already iffy about writing. But thank you to so many incredible souls being so encouraging and supporting me to get back into writing. Thank you to @kmomof4​ who read all four chapters and edited them (make sure to check them out). I really hope you enjoy this last part as I’m so happy to finally have this out for you all. A very late and final contribution to @csjanuaryjoy

tagging some of the fam squad (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @zaharadessert​ @stahlop​ @ultraluckycatnd @blowmiakisscolin​ @peggyswan​ @jrob64​ @klynn-stormz​​ @tiganasummertree​ @batana54​ @pirateprincessofpizza​​

ALL THE LOVE

Ruby made her way back up to the party, excited to see how the rest of the night would play out after her phone call to Emma. As she made her way back into Killian’s apartment she saw the Nolans as they gestured rather animatedly. Then Ruby rounded the corner and looked in to see who they were yelling at. 

Shit. 

It was Killian. 

And from the looks of it they were letting Killian have it. And he was just standing there taking it.  

What the hell did he get into in the last five minutes to warrant this? Ruby was both concerned, but mostly entertained because the sweet sunshine Charmings never yelled. She strolled into the kitchen with a grin, figuring she would enjoy the show. That was until the furious couple saw her - apparently she was their new target. 

“Ruby Elizabeth Lucas! You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Ruby was confused to say the least. How the hell was she involved in... whatever this was? 

“Um...I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Bullshit, Ruby!” She was completely taken back, Mary Margaret never swore. “You just told me that Emma thought Killian was dating Elsa. And last time I checked Killian and Emma have been together for the last three months. So please, explain yourself. Now.”

“I feel like it’s not really my place,” she said, darting her eyes toward Killian, but she could tell no one was buying it. “Listen, Snow White and Prince Charming, your poor sister felt pressured to bring a date home for the holidays. She and Killian decided to go to Ruth’s and tell y’all they were dating so you’d back the hell off. And it worked and everything was fine. Then Elsa showed up and spooked Emma because she thought she lost her chance with him. Because shocker,” she looked fiercely at Killian and had to restrain herself from smacking him upside the head, “they’re both in love with each other and are being absolutely idotic and not telling the other the truth.” She turned back toward the stunned silent Charmings, “And you two are not helping the cause!”

Killian looked up in complete shock, his eyebrows nearly reaching his hair. The Nolans stood gaping at her, obviously not expecting her brutal honesty. 

“Listen,” Ruby took a deep breath. “Cut them some slack. You two were acting like Emma was going to turn into some crazy old spinster if she didn’t find a date soon. Also, you two act as though you are a literal fairytale couple.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s hard to live up to your kind of love.”

As David stood in shock, Mary Margaret finally spoke up. “We went too far, didn’t we?” That’s when she turned to Killian. “We’re sorry, Killian. We shouldn’t have ever put you in this situation. We love you, we love Emma, and that wasn’t fair...I hope you can forgive our behavior this evening.”

Just as Killian was about to speak up, the door opened revealing an out of breath Emma Swan.

Emma was confused by the odd looks she was receiving as her welcome. She should be used to their bizarre behavior at this point, but this felt different. 

As she made her way over to the group her nerves set back in. She was here to tell Killian the truth. She was going to finally confess her love for her best friend. On his birthday. What could possibly go wrong?

“Right, well, this has been fun. Perhaps we should give these two some alone time.” Ruby elbowed the couple so Emma and Killian could have a moment.

As Emma walked towards Killian she finally took in her surroundings and realized how packed the apartment was. “I wish there were less people here…”

“Why, Swan? I love large parties, they’re so intimate. At small parties-”

“-there isn’t any privacy. I like it when you quote things to me.” Looking at him, she realized how close they were. She wasn’t even aware of her own movement toward him. Then she looked into his blue eyes. She missed them. 

She missed him. 

They stood there, taking each other in. It’d been weeks since they’d been together, really together. Neither one knew how to start. 

“Emma, you came.”

She wished in that moment she had something poetic to respond with, but that wouldn’t be Emma. “That’s what she said.”

The two instantly burst into laughter, the tension dying with every laugh. 

“I missed you, Swan.” Killian reached his hand out to tuck a loose strand behind her ear, Emma leaned into his touch. 

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry I ran…I wish I had a good excuse, but I don’t. I wanted to tell you so many times how I felt. I was going to tell you. On New Year's Eve. I was finally going to tell you. I had this whole plan. It was a good plan. And then Ruby fucking decided to be Chef Julia Child and give me food posioning. And then...I saw how happy you looked with Elsa and I thought, I thought, I’d lost my chance with you.” Emma finally found the courage to look up when she finished.

Killian’s eyes were full of unshed tears. When Emma opened her mouth to try and say something to break the tension Killian wrapped his arms around her. Emma finally took a breath. A breath she had been holding for weeks. He didn’t hate her. 

“Emma, my love, I promise nothing happened with Elsa. She was Liam’s fiance. She’s an old friend and nothing more. You though...you’re so much more than that. I’ve been a coward. I’ve hidden behind our friendship, behind the lie we told your family, and I will not do that any longer. I’ve had three words on the tip of my tongue since the night we met, I swear, and I will not waste another minute without you hearing them.”

Emma extracted herself from his grasp. “Before you do, I have something for you.” 

Killian lets out a sigh, “Really? Right now?”

Without another word Emma pulled the small red box from her clutch and handed it to Killian. He looked at her with curious eyes. “It’s your birthday, open the damn thing, Jones.”

“So demanding. Now what do we have here? It's a-” 

He stopped.  

Mistletoe. 

It was the most infuriating object that haunted his dreams - well, besides Emma. That trip to her home, the infernal garnish was everywhere. 

There was that kiss.

God, that kiss. He relieved it daily, prayed that it wasn’t the last kiss he’d ever share with Emma. Up until this moment he was convinced that would be the case.

“Well, Swan, this is quite the gift. I don’t know exactly what to say.” He scratched behind his ear, a nervous tick they were both well aware of. 

“I, um, do you wanna see if it works?” Killian’s eyes shot up to Emma.

“Well, love, seems only right I try it out with you since you were the one that gave me such a generous gift. Shall we...”

Emma cut him off with a bruising kiss, it caught him a little off guard, but it only took a moment for him to catch up. Killian didn’t give a damn that there was a party going on around them. He finally had Emma in his arms. Emma’s hands wandered to the nape of his neck, holding on for dear life. Killian’s hands roamed down her sides before anchoring on her hips, holding her tightly against him. He cursed the fact that Emma was wearing a dress, even if she did look bloody gorgeous in the tight red piece. He couldn’t wait to have that blasted thing on his floor.

They finally broke for air, still clinging to one another, foreheads touching. Killian was ready to dive back in when he looked up and remembered they weren’t alone. Mary Margaret was crying, Ruby was cheering, and David looked slightly annoyed but Killian saw the small smile he was trying but failing to hide. 

“Come on, love. I think it’s time we faced the vultures. And I’d like you to meet Elsa, if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty good idea, Captain.” Emma reached down and grabbed Killian’s hand before they walked over. 

Maybe the trope board wasn't wrong after all. 

CSCSCSCSCSCSCSCS

As the party went on, Killian and Emma were inseparable; the two constantly touching the other. At one point, while talking to Mary Margaret and David, Emma laid her head on Killian's shoulder, something she'd done a million times, but this time Killian placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

The two were in their own happy bubble. They pretended to be engaged with those around them, but they couldn't ignore but feel the sparks ignited with each touch.  

"So, Emma? It's nice to finally meet you. I'm sorry for the miscommunication. I feel as though that was my fault." Emma was confused on how Elsa seemed to be privy to their issue, but then she saw Mary Margaret across the room and assumed her friend had filled her in.

"Please, don't be. I was...scared I lost my chance with Killian."

"Oh, honey. I don't think you could ever lose this one." Killian squeezed Emma closer to prove her point. 

Turns out Elsa was hilarious and had wonderfully embarrassing stories about Killian. Emma had a feeling the two were going to be good friends after tonight. 

The party eventually wound down a little after one, slowly the various couples left. That's when Emma realized she was alone with Killian. 

Finally. 

Suddenly, Emma felt her nerves grow. They'd declared their love and haven't left the others' side since, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. She absentmindedly threw out some empty cups as she tried to plan her next move.

"Love," Killian called for her from the living room, "can you come here?" Emma slowly made her way into the room as Killian stretched out his arms to embrace her. 

"Emma, I...I know that tonight has been a lot. Our relationship has always been a lot. And I know the future is uncertain, but there's one thing I want you to be certain of - I will always be by your side. For as long as you'll let me, my love."

She didn't even know a tear had slipped until Killian pulled back to wipe it. 

"I haven't always made things easy. I get spooked easily, but I'm tired of running. I want to be with you, Killian. I love you."

"And I you, my beautiful Swan." 

The kiss started off slowly, different than the one earlier, but no less passionate. Emma brought her hands around Killian's neck, playing with the nape of his hair. As Killian kissed down her neck, Emma didn't recognize the noises that escaped her mouth.

As their kisses continued, Emma was surprised when Killian's legs hit the couch and he fell down. She hadn’t been aware that they moved. Emma said she was tired of running, and she was ready to show him. So she straddled his legs and hovered over him for just a moment.

They felt like teenagers again, making out on a couch like this. She could feel him harden beneath her, driving her wild. But, it wasn't enough, she needed more. Emma started unbuttoning his shirt, the bastard already had the top three undone. Without a second thought, she began to rake her fingers through the coarse black hair. 

"I've been dying to do this since we first met. So soft," she murmured. Killian found a spot behind her ear that made her mewl. Emma brought her lips to his ear, "I've always wondered how it'd feel against my breasts." 

With that, Killian pulled back. "My love, are you sure? We can wait. Because once I have you, I'm never going to let you go." Emma nodded slowly. As she looked into his eyes, she could barely see a trace of blue. His pupils were blown. 

Before Emma could stand, Killian wrapped his arms around her to carry her to his bedroom. He only ran into the wall twice as Emma was no doubt leaving marks on his neck. Killian gently placed her in the middle of the bed. 

"I always swore that if we got here, I would worship every inch of you."

"Killian, please, worship later. I need you now."

"Just a taste. Patience, darling." Killian was beyond thankful at that moment Emma had opted for a dress as he quickly removed her thong.  

Before she could speak, he brought his mouth to her sex. "You're already drenched for me. You..fuck...you taste delicious."

Emma couldn't speak, he was overwhelming in every sense of the word. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, not that she needed to guide him; he knew exactly what he was doing. 

Killian replaced his mouth with two fingers. "That's it, Emma. You look so beautiful like this. I want you to come for me, darling. Come and then I'll give you what you really want."

His voice was deeper, accent thicker. Emma had a feeling she could finish from his voice alone, but right now, it was his fingers and mouth that were going to do the trick. 

Emma lost all control of her limbs as he sent her over the edge. He didn't let up though, he continued slowly licking as she came back down. As her breathing returned to normal, Killian kissed up her body. 

"Worship later, Killian,” she moaned again. “Please. I need you. Now."

"So demanding, Swan,” he observed, taking his pants and boxer briefs off. “I think I like this side of you, all in a commanding voice, chills really." 

He climbed back on top of her, but instead of responding, Emma hooked her legs around Killian and flipped him, so he laid on his back. He looked up in awe, he had never been so turned on than in this moment. 

Emma decided she was tired of waiting, but before she could sink down Killian stopped her. "Give me a moment, let me grab something, I -"

"I'm clean, and I'm on the pill. I...I don't want anything between us."

"Gods, Emma. If you're sure? I'm good too, I haven't been with anyone since...since we met." 

Emma dove down to meet his lips as she sank down onto him. Killian swallowed her gasp as she adjusted to his size. Of course, he lived up to every innuendo, and Emma couldn't be happier for that than in this moment. 

For first times, they were both surprised with how easy it was to fall into rhythm with the other. There were only a few slightly awkward moments, but that didn't stop them from enjoying this moment. Emma's hips met Killian's with each thrust, quickly driving the other wild. 

"So fucking glorious, Emma. You're so tight like this. Ride my cock, such a good girl. I want to feel you come around me this time. You're stunning when you come. That's...fuck... that's it Emma, take what you need, darling."

Before Emma could even respond, Killian decided it was her turn to be flipped on her back. "Now, if I remember correctly, you wanted to know how it feels with me on top."

"That's, ugh, that's not exactly what I said. But I'm not complaining."

Emma felt that familiar sensation growing in her stomach as Killian's pace intensified. "Killian, I'm close. Together, I wanna -"

"Aye, love, together."

Killian felt her tighten around him as she moaned out in ecstasy, pulling him right after her. He gave her a searing kiss as he spilled himself inside of her. Killian fell on top of her, too exhausted to worry about crushing her for a moment. 

"Killian? As much as I love how, uh, close we are now, do you think you can move? I can't breathe, and I need to clean up."

"Oi, you're gonna give a man a complex!" Killian slowly rolled off her, in awe of the glow Emma radiated at the moment. Emma couldn't help but giggle as he was being an annoying ass, but mostly he was still...Killian. 

They were still them. Except they just had mind-blowing sex. 

She could get used to this new addition to their relationship. 

"Stay here, love. Let me." Killian was back in a moment and helped clean Emma. When he finished, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, just like before. 

"What is it, Swan?"

"Nothing, I'm just happy. It's just so surprising."

"Aye, love, me too. But this doesn't change anything. I've loved you for years now, and we'll go at whatever pace we both see fit, but I'm in this for the long haul."

"As am I, Captain."

The two laid in bed, cuddled close, and shared lazy kisses. When Emma looked at the clock, she saw it was nearly three in the morning. A few weeks ago, Emma had thought nothing good happened after two am; it turns out she was wrong. 

"Swan? Can you tell me what the bloody hell a trope board is?"

[tarithenurse]

Impervious

Fandom: MCU / TFATWS Pairing: Sam Wilson x reader Content: Mentions of hate/harrasment, bad weather, sadness, awkwardness, fluff. A/N: This is my contribution to @princessmisery666​ ‘s Daily Mix Challenge! She tossed me a song I’ve never heard before (Skin – by Sabrina Carpenter) and listening to the lyrics I had the image of a highschool prom dance scene where the main character is dancing with the partner while the jealous ass holes are staring daggers....but instead I ended up writing this – oops? Hope you enjoy! And thank you for a lovely challenge!

Impervious

I should delete my Twitter too. The day has only just begun but haters never seem to sleep, filling your online existence with a shit-ton of “negativity”.

It wasn’t as if you had planned it. It just happened!

Thinking back, you can’t help smiling at the memory of that morning a couple of years ago.

Way too early in November, cold and wet and absolutely not a day where you really wanted to be out in the horrendous morning rush and trying to weave in and out between people, with a cooling coffee in one hand, phone in the other, and an umbrella sandwiched dangerously by your shoulder and chin. Nope, the day was shitty and had just plummeted further as you hung up: you’d just had a contract cancelled. At least you wouldn’t be late.

Ready to give up your attempt at adulting (without the prospect of a new gig), you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings for a moment. Just a few seconds. But of course, that’s all it would take to ram straight into someone, crushing the paper cup between the two of you and jostling him to spill his own coffee.

On any other day, you’d probably have handled it more graciously. This day...not so much.

Scrambling for your phone (ugh, it had landed in the biggest puddle available and cracked), you rattled off frantic excuses while trying to hold back the tears. Then your umbrella got snagged by the wind and someone bumped into you, forcing you onto hands and knees and it was all...just...too much.

“Hey baby girl, don’t worry. Don’t cry,” his voice was warm and soothing just like his hands as they gripped yours, brushing off dirt gently with his sleeve, “don’t cry, ’s gonna be fine. See? No harm, no foul.”

There were scars on his hands – especially his knuckles had seen a lot of use, disrupting the gentleness of the dark skin with odd patterns – but they were steady and welcoming then as they cupped your elbows.

Still trying to push out excuses (at this point as much for your own reaction as the accident itself) between hiccups, you were not prepared for him.

His coat was practical and glistening from the rain that gathers on the treated material rather than soak into it...as opposed to your own old jacket that could double as a sponge.

“Just breathe,” he smiled from under the hood, “and stop apologizin’, ‘aight?” Well, you did shut up, too stunned by the crooked smile and the sunshine peeping out at you from his eyes. “That’s better. Lemme just grab this -” he bend for the remains of your phone -”and then...maybe I can offer ya somethin’ warm to drink?”

“Shouldn’t...shouldn’t I do that?” Your voice began to rise once more despite your best intentions. “I wasn’t watchi-”

“Nope.” You liked the way the P popped. “Gotta make sure ya fine...that’s kinda my thing, y’know.”

“O-okay...”

He had done just that: brought you to a warm café and hooked you up with their biggest mocha with chocolate powder on top (he even secured you a seat close to the heater) while still chatting about random things to calm you down.

But then his phone had rang and he’d have to leave.

You never got around to ask about his name...but later, when your brain decided to finally cooperate, you realized you didn’t have to: you had just been helped by Sam Wilson, former Falcon and the new Captain America.

That could have been the end of that.

It left you with dreams you neither wanted to share with anyone nor forget. Something inside you had woken up, wanting company but finding nothing but solitude – not that you technically were alone, of course.

You found yourself reading about Wilson’s heroic deeds both before and after the Avengers...and you kept noticing the little details that people seemed to ignore on the gossip pages or in the headlines. You fell for the man without the wings and shield.

A month later (and thankfully a few seasonal jobs too), you walked from the subway towards your little apartment after a long shoot. It was late and you were too tired to notice much about your surroundings until the winter boots of someone appeared in your lowered field of vision, making you jerk back to attention.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya,” Sam Wilson smiled disarmingly.

You were several blocks from home still. The streetlight flickered, stretching the shadows from a nearby dumpster, and towering above you were windows which all tried to block out the world for the sake of the residents living there.

“What are you doing here?” You bit your tongue in regret immediately. “I-I mean uhm...you didn’t...didn’t scare me...”

If he had been offended, Sam didn’t show it. Instead he just smiled that crooked smile, flashing what you were absolutely certain must be the prettiest tooth gap. “Let me walk ya home for starters?”

“...sure.”

It wasn’t winter anymore inside you when he was there. It was as good as you were ever going to get, knowing your dreams were unrealistic, so of course you decided to enjoy it for a little while. You walked side by side with him, basking in his warm presence until you were chatting as if he was an old friend.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing here, Sam.”

The two of you had come to a stop outside your complex. Fidgeting with your keys in the pocket, you wished that you could keep walking with him.

“Well...I was just gonna check in on you but now...this gonna sound crazy,” he pauses to scratch under the scarf, “...I was kinda hopin’ you’d let me finish that coffee with ya some day?”

He was still smiling although a bit more timidly and more towards the winter boots.

“I’d like that.” Inside you, a million sparklers were lit. “Tomorrow?”

“Hey baby girl, what ya smiling like a goof for?”

Sam’s voice calls you back to the real world – a real world where he’s coming over to you on the couch with a big mug of fresh coffee.

“You.” Closing the laptop, you push it away in favour of your boyfriend. “I was remembering how we bumped into each other.”

The memory makes him smile the way you love. “Best day in my life.”

“Same for me.” You kiss him. “I wouldn’t give us up for anything or anyone.” Not even jealous haters.

[sanghyukstattoos]

Round one

Characters: Kang Chani x Reader 

Genre: Fluff, Smut (unprotected sex, blowjob, masturbation, feeling attracted looking at an innocent- looking Chani in the morning (innocence kink?))

Words: 1259

Summary: The sun shining through the curtains may not leave much light in the room but it’s enough for you to make out the outline of Chani sleeping next to you, his graceful features stunning you, not helping your arousal in the slightest.

A/N: Tbh, I feel like a 'cold front' is quite subjective because if you look at someone with a rbf (that a lot of people tend to have) you would assume that they have a 'cold front' instantly but getting to know them would assure you that they have warm personalities, a direct contrast to the 'cold front' and that's Chani to me. Plus, I agree with you, he looks like a really handsome man with a lot of secrets 😂😂 but then he smiles and I'm like, "oh~~ an open book". Yes 😂😂 he can get it and a corruption kink huh??

I love writing for this fandom and contributing to the fics and it makes me happy knowing that there are people out there who read and support all of fantasy’s writers! Thank you for this request, I wholeheartedly agree with you on the fact that Chani isn’t innocent and don’t forget to request more and tell me how you feel about this fic!!

His beauty-

A little while ago, you had woken up, the sound of the birds chirping and the sun glaring through the curtains alerting you to the warm, rising sun of the afternoon. You stretched your limbs, the ache in your back disappearing as your hand accidently hit the headboard. Quickly retracting your hand, you looked over to Chani who was still asleep adorning tousled hair, rosy pink cheeks as soft breaths fell from the even rises and falls of his chest. The lightness in his breaths gave his form a sense of peacefulness and you smiled at the sight, the light reflecting off his skin illuminating the clearness you were so used to seeing.

Having thrown off the covers somewhere during the night, his hoodie had ridden up exposing his toned stomach while his boxers hung low on his hips, having shifted while he turned in his sleep. You squeezed your legs together at the thought, looking back up at his face but you were tempted and so your fingers lightly traced his lower stomach, barely stopping at the boxers. Cautious, you couldn't decide whether you wanted to wake him up or not, having gotten verbal confirmation from him for waking him up for sex or having sex with him while he was asleep.

For both, you had to pull his boxers down anyways and so you did, peeking at him while you pulled them down, his cock bouncing and hitting his thigh now that it was exposed to the air of the room. Taking them off you stilled when he dug the heels of his feet along the bed sheets but a couple of seconds later he still hadn’t moved and so you climbed in between his legs, grabbing his cock in between your hands and stroking him gently. You were careful not to touch his legs and enveloping his cock with your mouth, the warmth hugged his length. Bobbing your head, you started from the tip and went down on him, using your other hand to stroke the rest that you weren't able to fit into your mouth. 

The pleasure he felt between his legs made him think that it was a dream but the hands pushing his thighs apart and holding down his hips told him otherwise. Incredibly tired, he felt unable to open his eyes which went completely against the desire to confront your assault on his cock. As heat rushed to his core, his cock springed to life, becoming fully erect and releasing precum into your mouth which you used to lube his cock. Pulling away from him, a string of saliva connected his cock and your lips as you glanced at him through your eyelashes. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes squeezed shut as red dust coated his cheeks while a sheet of sweat covered his forehead, running into his hair. 

Hands fisted into the sheets, small whimpers fell from his lips, unable to trace the source of his pleasure and you continued swiping your tongue across his tip, occasionally pressing flat against the bulging vein that ran across his cock. Innocence was what he wore on his face but you knew that he was anything but, because if you were to push him down and ride him as he slept, he wouldn’t mind filling you with his cum, going for round two merely seconds later. Shedding your oversized t-shirt, you leant over opening the drawer and taking out a lube, squeezed the gel onto the tip of your fingers.

Falling forward on your hand as your other one penetrated your entrance, the squelching of your two fingers grew apparent in the room causing you to bite your lip as you held back your moans, the juices heavily coating your fingers that quickly slipped in and out of your cavern. Feeling yourself properly lubed, you slipped your fingers out and climbed on top of him, legs on either side of his waist, aligning his cock with your entrance and slipping him inside your hole. Gulping, you shifted his hoodie higher up his torso, taking in the absolutely glorious sight of his exposed, toned chest

Whimpers fell from your lips and he shifted, bending his legs at the knees and asking, "Baby, what's going on?" slurring his words. Aroused, he moaned as he saw his cock disappear into your hole, the juices coating him while your cheeks were red and flushed, hands fisting the sheets above his shoulders. You had paused at his words, staring into his eyes hoping he would understand and move inside of you. His cock twitched seeing you fuck yourself on his cock which filled your hole and sinking down caused your breasts to bounce due to the movement.

Realising what you wanted, he reached out, grasping your breast in one hand while the other guided your waist in circles, drawing out a heavy breath from the two of you. Leaning down, he swiped your nipple with his tongue briefly before laying back on the bed, jerking his hips into yours causing the tip of his cock to touch your womb, making your cry out at the sudden pleasure. You picked up the pace, bouncing on his cock now as his fingers twirled your nub, the pain arousing you while the other kneaded the flesh of your ass, using it to push you further down on him.

You leant down completely, your nipples now rubbing against his chest as his cock entered you from a new angle, hitting you even deeper each time he thrusted into your pussy. He held the back of your head, hiding you in the crook of his neck and pecking your temple while he thrusted his hips upwards releasing cries from you due to his brutal pace. Shifting your position so that you were now above him, he rested on his elbows while he ploughed his cock into your pussy saying, "spread your legs baby, more". Holding the back of your thighs, you spread your legs, allowing him to slip in and out of you with ease and at a quicker pace.

Biting your lip, your breasts bounced with the movement and he connected your lips, the warmth of his mouth meeting with yours, your tongues swirling around one another. Heavy breaths and moans filled the room as you moaned against his mouth which left to nip and lick the canvas of your neck. Throwing your head back into the pillow, you allowed him more access, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten as he sucked into your skin which grew pink, slowly turning into a darker shade. Clenching around his cock, you released your juices coating his member that was still thrusting into you. Continuing his pace, he stroked your hair comforting you when he heard you cry out at the overstimulation. Grasping his biceps, he came in to you, letting out a moan as his cum painted your walls and filled your hole, slowing down.

You whimpered and he winced as he slipped out of you, the juices flowing out of your entrance and covering your inner thighs. He laid next you, pulling you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you and bringing your leg over his waist. You snuggled into him and rubbed his back causing a smile to light up his face. ‘’Let’s go’’ he whispered and you raised your eyebrows asking, ‘’Where to?’’. Getting up, he grabbed your hand in his pulling you to the bathroom as realisation dawned on you, rushing past him into the bathroom. Seeing you speedily walk past him made him wonder what you were up to but softened even more upon seeing you sat down and waiting for him to enter as the water became warm. 

[rivetwrites]

Emo hat for the fluff alphabet? (shuichi)

//i do love me some shuichi!!

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Shuichi Saihara Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Shuichi is a very shy and not a very sociable person, so he’d prefer to stay inside and read mystery novels with you. He’d also like to watch crime shows!! Though sometimes he ruins it by saying who the culprit is by the clues given already. 

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He loves that you’re more on the calm side with him. He gets a little overwhelmed and stressed when people are energetic or careless around him, so he’s grateful to have someone as leveled as you. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Shuichi isn’t the absolute best at comforting people, but he knows how it’s like to have a panic attack. He’d give you a nice cup of tea, rubbing your back awkwardly as he lets you cry into his uniform. 

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He’d love to get married and have a child, but more in the way future rather than the near future. First, he would want you to move in with him and settle down. He works a lot, so he wants to be financially stable before getting married and having a kid.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He’s very passive in the relationship, letting everything go very slow and steady at a comfortable pace. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s only with you just for the sake of having someone, he’s in for the long run with you.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Shuichi hates arguments with a passion, but sometimes he gets extremely overstressed and would snap at you. He immediately apologizes the second it leaves his lips, his anxiety rising as he hugs you tightly. If you made him upset, he would love to be alone to read or to distract himself with work. He’s very easy to forgive if you apologize, though.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s beyond grateful. He loves having you at his side to be there with him, to make sure he’s getting enough food and sleep, since he can sometimes forget. He makes sure to do the same thing for you, no matter how much you protest, he can be stubborn if he needs to be.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Shuichi has a bit of secrets, nothing too groundbreaking, but he’d prefer to keep it to himself near the beginning of the relationship. But soon, he’d let you in on his fears and insecurities. He’s super insecure about himself and he’s afraid to lose you like almost lost his friends in the past. If you have secrets you don’t want to tell, he’ll understand and won’t bother you until you’re ready to tell him yourself.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Your relationship with him helped him gain a bit more confidence in himself. Him wearing his hat less and less with you and soon, not wearing it at all, was a huge step for him. He’s always nervous and insecure about himself, but you being there with him is a big help.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Jealousy isn’t something he feels often, but more insecurity. If he ever sees someone flirting with you, he feels like you’ll leave him. Like he’s not good enough for you. He’d be more distant, so you’ll have to confront him and make sure he knows that you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Shuichi is super shy about any kind of physical affection, so you would be the one to initiate the kiss first. Pulling him down by the collar of his uniform, you’d press a gentle kiss to his lips. He nearly passed out from the blood rushing to his cheeks as he stutters out something to say. Just silence him with another kiss before he says something embarrassing.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Poor boy would be too nervous to confess, though his feelings are painfully obvious. The constant looking away, playing with his fingers or the rim of his hat is an easy giveaway. Confessing your feelings to him will result in a sigh of relief, thankful that he doesn’t have to almost embarrass himself in an awkward confession himself.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yeah! He thinks about it a lot whenever he’s alone with you. Looking over at you as you read your favourite book and thinks, “Wow, what if they had a ring?” But he immediately shakes away the thought. He’d be the one to propose when you two are alone together. His palms are sweaty and his knees are wobbly as he gets down on one knee for you. Your wedding would be modest and small, not really wanting a huge crowd. He thinks you look absolutely stunning on your special days.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He’d mostly call you by your name, or a nickname. But “hun,” “dear,” “sweetheart,” would be regulars as well. He’d mostly call you your name in public, but would shyly call you anything else when you’re alone, which is a lot of the time.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Shuichi is already shy about affection, but he’d muster up courage to tell you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him. Just press a small hiss to his shoulder or neck and he’d be putty in your hands in seconds.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He dislikes public affection a lot, but he doesn’t mind holding your hand when you’re sitting next to him. Kisses and full on cuddling would be reserved for being alone. He never ever brags about you, talk about you, maybe, but gloating isn’t really his thing. He never wants to seem like he’s only with you just because he wants to brag to his friends, he loves you too much for that.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Shuichi is a very patient person, so talking with him about your weird interests, or your dreams to him, would be very easy. He’d love to contribute into the conversation as well, so he’d look up whatever you’re into to learn more about it so he can have something to say as well.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s not entirely romantic, but he tries to be. Big dates or crowded dates are not his thing, he’d prefer to stay home and relax with you, or go out where you two can be alone. He’s not that bad at cooking, so he’d make your favourite snacks or dinner for you whenever you two stay home for a date.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Yes!! Your goals are his goals! Though, if they’re risky or life threatening, he’ll try to talk you into a more tame goal that won’t get you in trouble. But he’s your supporter all the way through!

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He’s not into thrills at all. He always needs a routine, or he feels like he could mess up the best thing that’s happened to him, this relationship. Though, whenever you have an idea that he might enjoy, he would give it a shot. Even if it didn’t go well, he would never regret doing it with you.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s very empathetic and an amazing listener. He’s not the very best at advice, but he gives it his best. He’s pretty good at reading your emotions, hell, he knows whenever Kokichi is lying now, so he’s great at it. Whenever you feel off, he’ll shoot a few compliments your way, just to make you feel a bit better.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your relationship is very important to him. You ground him into the world, and to lose that is heart breaking to him. He would do anything in his power to make you stay with him, but he would never force you to do so. Your happiness is the most important.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

The time when Shuichi is the most affectionate is when you’re in bed together. He’s always very shy about sleeping next to you, but it soon dissolves when he’s half asleep. He’d pull you into his chest, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before falling asleep.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s not a very touchy person, and even less in public, so all affection is at home. His favourite thing is when you rest your head on his shoulder and hold his hand as you read a book. You always look so cute when you’re so focused, and he has the perfect angle to see you.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’d bury himself in work, almost losing sleep over it as he can’t truly sleep well without you by his side. Once you return home, he’d be hugging you tightly as he tells you how much he’s missed you and how much he wants to hold you.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s not much of an extravagant person, so he’d give as much as you do, maybe slightly more. He feels like you deserve the world for making him so happy.

[cecilspeaks]

175 - The October Monologues

[static] [slightly distorted] The trees are dying again. You know it, I know it. The trees know it. They have known it for decades, centuries in some cases. The shiver of cyclic, symbolic death. A rattle in the cold night air. A rustle in the footsteps of a hungry deer. It is October and something is different. It is October and the trees draw the crackling red and orange curtain in the year’s final act. It is October, and so listeners, dear listeners, Night Vale community radio is proud to introduce The October Monologues.  

Faceless Old Woman: I am lonely. Oh, I see people. I see lots of people every day. I see you right now. I see you, Caleb, sitting in your rolling desk chair, hunched over your computer. I am a faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home, watching you download yet another video game, Caleb.

But seeing people and being with people are different things. Different ideas altogether. I miss touch most of all. A father’s hand, a friend’s arms. A lover’s chest. I still touch, am touched, but it is not the same. It is not a mutual touch. My touch is unwelcome, unfriendly, unwanted. Yet I touch because I love.

And I love you, Caleb. I do. I know you don’t believe me after what I did to you tonight, but I do. My love is not romantic nor maternal. It’s not platonic, either. I love you the way a deer loves a cornfield. It is safe, it is nourishing. It is in its DNA to want to be there, to hide, to eat, to play. You’re very much like a cornstalk, Caleb. You are loved and you are benign. Better than benign, you are a contribution to this world. The cornstalk is unaware that a deer loves it so much that it will bend it and stomp it until its edible morsels spill out from its crumpled empty husk. The cornstalks, there are so many cornstalks, do not understand that they are so loved by the deer as to be devoured.

You’ve seen a kitten before, Caleb, I know you have. Sometimes kittens are so cute. So so so so cute that you wanna put them in your mouth. Do you understand that kind of love, Caleb, that kind of touch? You do not, no one does. And this is why I’m lonely. But I think you know that. You’re different. You’re lonely too. That’s not what makes you different, we’re all lonely in our own way.

You’re different, Caleb, because you know I am here. You see me even when I do not want to be seen. No one has been able to do that in at least 200 years. Sometimes you speak to me. Not in terror, not in rage; I’ve heard many of these voices in my life from those who feared and detested my presence. No, you ask me my name. I won’t tell you, not yet. You tell me about your day, I’m sorry your new boss is so mean, I will rectify this. And last night, you prepared a dinner for me. You’re not a good cook, I can smell that much, but it was your gesture of generosity that touched me. You made cashio e pepe, a recipe you learned from TikTok, and you prepared a bowl just for me. You waited to see if I would appear, and when I did not, you told me you understood wanting to eat alone, so you left it for me on the dining room table, as you went to play the new flight simulator.

Few men have ever been this kind to me before being frightened into it first, or without using their kindness as a disguise. I think you genuinely understand your own quiet desperation among the mass of men. And in turn, you understand others too. I don’t trust the kindness of men, Caleb. I don’t trust the kindness of women, either. Or anyone else’s kindness, to be truthful, but I especially don’t trust men’s kindness. There are exceptions. Andre, whose kindness was loyalty and honesty, and Albert, although his was a much different kind of kindness.

But Caleb, 23-year-old, unshaven, video game loving, boss hating aimless Caleb, your kindness frightens me. I’m scared of what you want, what it is you plan to take from me. Kind men have stolen my childhood, my morals, my money, my love, my life, and my family. What will you take from me, Caleb, that I have not already lost? I’m afraid. I’m afraid to respond to your gentle bait of friendship, because I am afraid you will take my loneliness from me. I am lonely, and that is a choice I have made for myself.

One day, Caleb, you will die. I know exactly when. It will not be of my hand, although I will do nothing to stop it. It is my fate, my path, to know such things. And in your death, you will return my loneliness to me, and it will be a horror to behold, bloody and misshapen. My loneliness, not recognizing its former owner, will howl an unholy and unceasing cry, and I will not be able to bear it.

This is what I fear, Caleb, and this is why I took the bowl of cashio e pepe you left for me and hurled it against the wall, just missing your cheek. I’m not sad that you screamed at me, I’m happy that you did so. This is how it has to be. We are not enemies, Caleb, no no. I love you deeply. Deeper than you can know. I am your deer Caleb, and you are my corn.

Cecil: The fiery flash of fall leaves stuns us, captivates us. Fireworks in slow motion. Or the crackling embers of a finishing flame. Upon the leaves are written instructions for how to make oxygen, how to give life, with every exhalation. How  to find flair in fading grace, and how to raise new life by falling to your death. The leaves know they will return again, so much will return again. We return now to the October Monologues.

Michelle Nguyen: There’s this new song I like, but I don’t wanna tell you what it is. I find it kind of embarrassing. Usually I love to talk about my favorite music. There was that summer I was obsessed with the new single by Saint Vincent. The single came in the form of a glazed vase containing three blue flowers. Only one was ever made, and I got the only copy. I found it very catchy, but the flowers eventually died. Or the year I spent listening over and over to that new Janelle Monae album. I forget the name, but the cover was a black and white picture of a well, and if you didn’t share it with someone else in 7 days, you would die. Of course no one ever died, because the album was so good, people just couldn’t stop telling their friends to listen.

My favorite song of all time is a blank cassette tape still in its plastic wrapper. It was owned by a man named Gary Joy. He was a real estate lawyer, reasonably successful, but he always dreamed of being a singer/songwriter. He dreamed all the time of quitting his job and writing songs, but he had never even written one song. Then one day, in a fit of optimism and energy, he bought this cassette, intending to make his first memo. But the day got away from him, and then the week, and then the rest of his life, and he never quit being a lawyer, and he never even wrote one song. This blank cassette tape, still in its wrapper, contains the potential of all the songs he could have written but never did, which is better and more powerful than any song anyone’s actually managed to write. The potential of the thing is always more perfect than the reality of the thing. However, and this is the crucial drawback, the potential is absolutely useless and the reality, however imperfect, can be quite useful. Anyway, I like to hold Gary Joy’s unwritten demo and imagine what it would be like. Hold on, sorry. There’s a customer.

[bell dings] Welcome to Dark Owl Records. What? No, no. No. No! No. OK, bye! [bell dings] Sorry about that. Some people are so unreasonable. I don’t even know what a Taylor Swift is.

But there’s a new song I like, and it’s not cool like my other favorite songs. It’s not a song that fits the kind of image I like to project. When I put on my mirrored leggings, my extra long jorts, and my really big hat, people expect something from me. They expect me to be on the cutting edge. They expect me only to be into bands that aren’t popular yet, or will never be popular, or that frankly don’t know how to play their instruments very well. And the song I like now is not any of those things. It’s… ordinary. It’s… popular. I don’t wanna say what it is. Remember when I only listened to the sound of beez buzzing? That was a good summer. Of course I got stung once or twice or 30 times. [sighs] Hold on, sorry, there’s a customer.

[bell dings] Welcome to Dark Owl Records! Hey. Hey! Hey! Hey! HEEEEY! Thanks, nice to see you again. [bell dings] Sorry about that.

I’m tired of being cool. I was going to say trying to be cool, but trying implies the possibility of failure, and there has never been a moment when I’ve failed to be cool. But here’s the hard truth I’ve come up against: being cool is a young person’s game. And that’s not because young people are better or more interesting than older people. God no. God no. God no! It’s that coolness itself is a concept tied to youth. Coolness is a reactionary manifestation of insecurity. The more insecure you are, the cooler you need to be. It’s colorful plumage. But as I’ve gotten older, I no londer need flashy plumage. I just wanna sit in the comfort of who I am, and not worry about what that looks like from the outside.

Anyway, I can’t stop listening to “Karma Police” by Radiohead. It’s just… a good song, you know? Hold on, sorry, there’s a customer.

[bell dings] You! You’ll never catch me alive! [sound of running] [bell dings]

Cecil: An abundance of words, words falling, fluttering to the earth. Words crunching beneath our feet. They were beautiful once, the words. Now they are beginning to rot, to wilt, to compost, to ferment new growth. To fertilize new words growing upon great trunks of paragraphs and chapters, but not now. Those will come later. Now the words sputter and drop in spiraling arcs to the ground. Here, then, are the final few brightly painted words falling upon you now. The October Monologues.

Steve Carlsberg: What does it mean to be believed? I’ve always known that Night Vale isn’t like other places. As long as I can remember, I could see that. I could also see that no one else could see it. I was alone in my knowledge. Knowledge may be power, but power is often lonely. My grandfather knew. He could see that I was like him. “Steve,” he would say, “us Carlsbergs have always been the town pariahs, but just because they hate you, doesn’t mean they’re right.” I would sit at night as a kid and listen to Cecil on the radio. He was the same age as he is now, and at the time he seemed so wise. But I would hear him dismiss what I knew shouldn’t be dismissed. I would hear him cover up what should be uncovered, and I would know with a child’s certainty that it was wrong. I loved him still. Everyone in town loves Cecil. It is possible to love someone who you know is doing wrong. It’s terribly easy, in fact.

What does it mean to be believed? As a teenager, I started trying to express what I saw about the world. I gave a presentation in my social studies class called “Night Vale – there’s literally nowhere like it”, and I thought it was informative. The class all plugged their ears in unison. The teacher stopped me a minute in, glancing nervously at the 8 surveillance cameras monitoring the classroom. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” the teacher hissed at me. I remember that her breath smelled like Strawberry Jolly Ranchers, and there was a lose crumb of mascara in the sweat of her temples. “No,” I said. I didn’t know what to say. It’s not the kind of question that demands a sincere answer. The report earned me a trip to the principal’s office, and then the re-education pit, which honestly is not as bad as its name. I mean, almost not as bad. It’s pretty bad. It’s a pit, for re-education. So, certainly learned something from that re-education. I learned that you’re equally likely to be punished for being right as you are for being wrong.

What does it mean to be believed? I was a young man entering the workforce, and I had long ago learned to hide away what I knew about my city. I had learned the handshake and the smile, the nod and the necktie, all the signifiers that hid what I truly signified. All of life is a code, and I had been thought the key against my will.

I got a job as a bank teller at the Last Bank of Night Vale. I studied with great interest the townsfolk who came and went there. I learned about their lives and their secrets, and what kind of money they made for the whispered deals out back of quiet parking lots just before the sun went down, pulled up next to a black Sedan that contained their handler who they only knew by a false first name. but I couldn’t forget what I knew, even if I learned to playact that I had. What I know shapes who I am. I can’t close my eyes, not to this town I love. This weird and secret town I love.

What does it mean to be believed? Then I married into the family of Cecil Palmer, host of Night Vale community radio! And he hated me, because he could see that I knew. And after all these years, my mask had slipped a little. I’d lost my interest in hiding. I wanted to speak the truth as I knew it, nothing could be more threatening to Cecil. His life and livelihood depended on speaking the truth as the City Council wanted it. Or as the Vague yet Menacing government agencies crafted it. And here I was, pointing out to him the sky. There are glowing arrows in the sky, there are dotted lines and arrows and circles. The sky is a chart that explains the entire world! I tried to tell him, and this only made him hate me more. I tried to share who I was with him, and this only made him recoil. 

Abby listened to my stories, but she never shared my enthusiasm for the truth. “Let it lie,” she would say, “let it lie.” But that’s he point, I can’t let it lie and I can’t lie! We’ve done that for too long! We’ve let our town sit heavy under the weight of euphemism and half truth, and unless someone just said what they saw for once, we would be crushed eventually by that weight!

And then it all changed. I wasn’t alone. The others saw that we lived in a weird place. And you know what? We kept existing. Our world didn’t end merely because we dared acknowledge it. Cecil and I are friends now. I haven’t forgotten how he treated me, but I understand it and I forgive it. Forgiveness and understanding are not the same as forgotten.

What does it mean to be believed? It means everything. It means all.

Cecil: And as the leaves are done, so are the October Monologues. All that can be said has been said. And all that can be said will be said again.

Today’s proverb: Listen, it might seem like everything’s bad right now.

[ibijau]

Deathbed Wedding pt12

In which all is revealed (also on AO3)

Without waiting for an answer to her odd question, Yu Ziyuan entered the room. More puzzled than ever, the two men followed her. Nie Mingjue’s expression grew dark when he saw Meng Yao sitting on the side of Nie Huaisang's bed, checking the young man's pulse. In turn Meng Yao shot Yu Ziyuan a worried look. 

"Don't make that face," she ordered. "Did you give him the medicine yet?" 

After another anxious glance at Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao shook his head. 

"Lan gongzi asked me to wait for him. And since Lan zongzhu was leaving, I thought it was probably not necessary. I just brought it anyway in case he decided to come check here one last time." 

"You're a clever boy," Yu Ziyuan said, in such a tone that Lan Xichen couldn't have guessed if her words were meant to compliment or insult. "Let's see how clever. Throw that away, and then bring me some water." 

Watching Meng Yao empty the bowl, clean it and fill it with water, Lan Xichen could help a small cry of distress. 

"Doesn't he need that?" 

"Not anymore," Yu Ziyuan retorted, digging into her sleeve until she found a small wooden box. "Lan gongzi, as I told you the other day, I have little affection for your father, while your uncle is a friend of mine. When they both arrived here to check on your brother and discovered Nie gongzi's state, they had an argument of sorts where Qiren let it slip that Lan zongzhu had greatly wronged that boy."

Lan Xichen grimaced, while Nie Mingjue vehemently nodded. 

"Qiren thought it was a shame that even after going so far, Nie gongzi would not get his prize," Yu Ziyuan continued, opening the box to reveal some dark pills. She took one, and closed the box again. "That boy saved my son," she said, her face hardening for a moment. "What mother would not want to repay her son's saviour? At first we were not sure he would survive of course, but when we realised he would probably make it... Qiren and I discussed how to do this. Then Meng gongzi arrived from Qinghe to check on his master, so he joined our conspiracy as well and made a few suggestions. It turns out that from his previous employments, he knows a little about some unusual medicines."

Meng Yao, holding the bowl of water she had requested, paled at hearing his role mentioned and shot a terrified look at Nie Mingjue. 

"Yu-furen is too kind," he said in a strained voice. "My contributions were so small, it is Yu-furen and Lan-qianbei who did the most. I only tried to help, since my failure to fulfil my duty caused this situation." 

Yu Ziyuan scoffed at his display of humility. She took the water from him and went to sit on the side of the bed. Very carefully she pushed the pill inside Nie Huaisang's mouth, before using some water to help him swallow it. 

"It does not matter who came up with which part of this deception," she said, putting the bowl on the nightstand and turning to look at the young men. "What is important is that we decided to convince everyone that Nie gongzi's health was much worse than it is. It is easy to give that impression, with the right medicine. I realise this might have caused you some pain, but we figured neither of you would be any good at lying. Our plan was for Qiren to bring the conversation to Qingheng-Jun's refusal about the engagement, and to breach the subject of a last chance marriage, but Nie zongzhu beat us to it. For the best, I think. Lans really make for poor liars. You know the rest."

Both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen stared at her, stunned by the tale she spun for them. After so much sorrow, it was too much hope, and Lan Xichen dared not believe it yet.

"Yu-furen, are you saying that my brother is not dying after all?" Nie Mingjue asked.

"Come and check for yourself," Yu Ziyuan encouraged him, rising from the bed. "The pill should have started to eliminate the effects of the potion we were giving him." 

Immediately Nie Mingjue strode to the bed, and took his brother's wrist. He frowned at first, then gasped in surprise. It was all Lan Xichen needed. He rushed to the bed as well, taking his husband's other hand to check his pulse. It was weak still, but getting steadier, his energy returning to him already. Even his breathing, so laboured in the past few days, became more even. Instead of being a dying man, Nie Huaisang seemed to be only asleep now. 

As he had done many times in recent days, Lan Xichen broke into tears, but this time they were happy ones. 

"He'll be awake in a day or two," Yu Ziyuan announced. "Congratulations, Lan gongzi. Your marriage will last longer than expected." 

-

During the two days that followed, Lan Xichen refused to leave his husband's side unless absolutely forced to. He helped the Jiang physician care for Nie Huaisang, learned how to clean the wounds and make sure there was no sign of infection. He also fed the sleeping young man with light broth several times a day, and monitored every change he saw. 

Most of the time Nie Mingjue was there as well, watching over his brother, though he preferred to let Lan Xichen be the one fussing over him. Even if he was in a better state than they'd been led to believe, Nie Huaisang’s condition remained somewhat delicate and his brother feared he might lack the necessary gentleness. 

The only time Nie Mingjue left the room was to have a lengthy and apparently intense conversation with Meng Yao about lying to one’s sect leader, regardless of intentions. Meng Yao offered a full apology and expressed absolute repentance, though Lan Xichen had a suspicion he might not have been fully sincere. That plan had worked perfectly after all, which would have been less likely if Nie Mingjue had had to act instead of just reacting. For his part, Lan Xichen was too relieved by this happy turn of events to have the strength to be angry. 

On the afternoon of the second day, while Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were chatting together in the bedroom, they started hearing ruffling noises coming from the bed. When they checked, it was to find Nie Huaisang weakly pushing and kicking away his blankets, breathing more heavily than before, his left eye fluttering as if it were trying to open. Lan Xichen pressed one hand to his forehead, only to find it warmer than before.

“I’ll go get the physician,” he quickly told Nie Mingjue. “I won’t be long.”

Nie Mingjue nodded and knelt by the bed. He took his brother’s hand, before starting to whisper words of comfort to him. Lan Xichen threw them one last look, then hurried out of the room. He was back in less than an incense stick’s time later, Yunmeng Jiang’s physician at his side.

“He’s awake,” Nie Mingjue announced when they came in, making some room by the bed for the physician but refusing to let go of his brother’s hand. “And he can talk already. He said he’s hurting a bit.”

The physician walked straight to the bed while Lan Xichen lingered by the door, half afraid if he came close, this would turn out to be nothing more than a dream. 

"Of course he's in pain," the old lady scoffed, forcing Nie Mingjue to let go of his brother a moment so she could check his pulse. "Not too bad," she said after a moment. "Nie gongzi you're an idiot, but a lucky one. You'll recover." 

"What about the others?" Nie Huaisang asked weakly, his voice barely more than a breath. "How are they? Did they escape too?" 

"They're in a much better state than you. I'm sure Jiang gongzi will come running the instant he hears you're awake." 

The physician then turned to Nie Mingjue. 

"When he comes, don't let him stay too long, and tell him to be quiet. Nie gongzi still needs rest."

"I need food too," Nie Huaisang mumbled. "So hungry…" 

"I'll go tell the kitchen to prepare some light broth for you," the physician offered. "And I'll bring something for the pain as well. How intense is it?" 

Nie Huaisang didn't answer right away, and instead moved a little, as if trying to assess the situation, and grimaced deeply. 

"Pretty bad," he sighed. "My head is killing me, especially my right eye. I can't open it at all, it hurts so much if I try." 

"Then don't try," the physician ordered, exchanging a glance with Nie Mingjue and shaking her head. There was no need to overwhelm Nie Huaisang with all that was wrong with him, not until he was a little better and could handle the news. 

Satisfied with the state of her patient, the physician left the room. Lan Xichen, still by the door, hesitated to come closer, fearing that a too strong emotion might cause problems. Meanwhile, on the bed, Nie Huaisang sighed deeply. 

"I'm really feeling weird," he mumbled when his brother took his hand again. "Like I don't have strength at all. And earlier I even thought I heard Xichen…" 

Nie Mingjue startled, and shot a look toward Lan Xichen who still didn't dare to move, but Nie Huaisang did not notice. 

"Do you think he'll be angry at me?" the young man whispered. "I thought I'd finally done well enough, but I messed up again. His father must think I'm so weak, and if Xichen gets angry…" 

"I'm not angry!" Lan Xichen cried out, rushing to the bed and kneeling next to Nie Mingjue. "A-Sang, don't think I could be angry at you! But I certainly was worried." 

Nie Huaisang’s good eye opened wide, and he gasped in surprise. 

"You're here… I really thought I'd dreamed. And you're not angry… You're really not?" 

"Not at you," Lan Xichen replied. 

He might never stop resenting his father for the lies that had caused this situation, and he would have words with Wen Chao someday. But it would have been impossible to be upset at Nie Huaisang, he was just too happy to have him alive and mostly well. Even if they'd need to have a conversation someday about knowing one's limits and about taking risks, right then Lan Xichen only care that everything was turning out so well after all.

Nie Huaisang smiled weakly, then turned serious again as he looked. 

"Next time I'll do better," he whispered fiercely. "I'll show your father…" 

"There's no next time," Nie Mingjue snapped, making his brother flinch slightly. "It's over, no more Night Hunts for you."

Nie Huaisang sighed deeply, turning paler at the news.

"Oh. I really messed up pretty bad, uh?" he mumbled. "Is it too late? Is Xichen-ge engaged to Jiang-guniang now?" 

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, while Lan Xichen couldn't help a small laugh. 

"A-Sang, you and I are married now," he announced, gently tucking some stray hair behind his husband's ear. 

"Oh." 

Nie Huaisang's tone on that single syllable was very flat, and a frown quickly formed on his face. 

Lan Xichen felt panic rise inside his chest, his heart hammering against his ribs. He would have expected a rather different reaction to the news. Suddenly, he feared that they had made a mistake. Maybe after so much effort, so much pain, Nie Huaisang had decided Lan Xichen wasn't worth the hassle anymore. Or maybe since his head had been injured, he didn't remember his feelings. Or else… 

"Da-ge, Xichen-ge, I think I'm not awake at all after all," Nie Huaisang sighed. "Did you say we're married? Ah, that's too good to be true. It's really too good, so I must be dreaming."

Relieved to hear that was the only problem, Lan Xichen laughed again and pressed a quick kiss to his husband's cheek who gasped and turned a pretty shade of pink. It really had to be a lot to take on, especially after everything else that had happened, so it might take a little time for Nie Huaisang to accept it. And at worse, they'd have another ceremony in Qinghe when Nie Huaisang was well enough to travel, just to make sure it sank in that they were truly married. 

It would be lovely, Xichen thought, to take his bows next to his husband rather than a paper doll, and to have a true wedding night. 

It would be a discussion for later though, because right then Jiang Cheng came running into the room, shouting about how stupid Nie Huaisang was, followed quickly by the physician and a servant who carried food and medicine. 

It was fine. The conversation could wait. They had time. 

Lan Xichen smiled to his husband, who weakly smiled back, seeming a little dazed by everything that was happening, but definitely not unhappy about it. 

They had time, and what a wonderful thing that was to have. 

[judediangelo75]

Under the Celestial Lights

Hi everyone! First I would like to thank you guys for my first post for the TalbottxMC fandom. I appreciate it a lot. So this is my second contribution, this time covering the Celestial Ball. 

As you all already know, Talbott is not option (tragic I know) so this is gonna be a hint of a love triangle situation. Playing the game, I did go with Andre because I found him to be rather sweet (and cute). It was either him or Barnaby, sue me. But I pick our favorite style wizard.

I would entertain my MC liking Andre as a bit, but her endgame is Talbott. And she feels terrible for having to choose and breaking someone’s heart in that process. She doesn’t like to hurt anyone she considers a good friend.

Also this is featuring my best friend in this story, we’re co-writing our Hogwarts experience from the game.

So here it is, my version of the Celestial Ball featuring our favorite bird boy, Talbott Winger. Hope you all like it!

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

(Talbott Winger)

The Celestial Ball.

Something that caused a stir in the student population at Hogwarts. Where everyone seems to be anxious on what they will wear and who their guest will be as they'll dance the night away.

Not my scene.

Or so I thought before I saw her.

On Andre's arm was my secret crush. Judith Harris.

If I thought she looked beautiful before, she was absolutely stunning now...

If I were in my human form, I would most definitely be blushing. The dress seem to be made just to fit her and her alone. Red and gold complimenting her skin and eyes. Even the slit of the dress that showed off her leg did funny things to me. Her dark brown hair styled in curls flowing around her shoulders and upper back. Her gold eyes were outlined in black, making her eyes sharp and enticing. The dark brown, nearly black, shadow added depth to her eyes. Her lips looked soft and a bit shiny.

Andre looked like he was walking on air, a hint of a blush can found on his cheeks paired with the biggest smile on his face. He gazed at Judith with a soft lovesick expression.

'Lucky bloke...' I mentally huffed as I shifted in my little corner by the windows. I didn't even plan on going to the Ball but after a certain conversation with Judith early this morning.

---------

"Hey Talbott..." I glanced at the Hufflepuff sitting next to me. After breakfast in the Great Hall, Judith decided to join me in my hiding spot in the Courtyard.

"Yes, Judith," I asked. On the way here, she seemed to thinking about something.

"I was wondering... you plan on going to the Ball?" I rolled my eyes.

"I see no real point to go. Sure, there are people I know that'll be there, but it's not like they're looking to spend time with the weird looking loner. Plus, it's not my scene to begin with," I shrugged. I didn't notice a crestfallen expression on Judith's face.

"O-Oh... Just wondering..." I turned to the Hufflepuff who was facing the opposite direction.

"I'm going. I'm sure it'll be fun..." I arched at brow.

"You going with a guest?"

"No one asked me. I guess I'm going to be third wheeling Brooke and Penny. No wizard would want me as their guest..." I frowned. I would want her to be my guest. I opened my mouth to say something but the girl abruptly stood up.

"I got to go, I'm pretty sure getting ready for the Ball will take forever. Might as well and get a head start. I'll... I'll see you around, Talbott..." were her final words before walking back into the castle. I was left alone in the quiet Courtyard, feeling like I ruined something...

-----------

Turns out Judith did find a guest, but her eyes didn't hold it's usual spark. Whenever she was alone, I notice the look on her face. Her eyes were half lidded, it almost made her eyes enticing. But by closer inspection, her eyes looked slightly clouded and dazed. Like she wasn't truly present. She would look outside, her expression wistful before morphing to a smile when one of her friends or Andre approach her. But I know what I saw.

A look I've seen in our long classes. A look that reads she rather be somewhere else.

Or maybe in this case, with someone else...

"Heyyyyyy Talbott~" I blinked as I turned to Brooke, who was now casually leaning against the windowsill. She looked amazing, I wouldn't be surprised if she was the master mind behind her and her best friend's outfits. But that's not what I wondering about.

Just how did she see me and why is she talking to me...

"So I noticed you here all by your lonesome so I decided to come keep you company with awhile." I detect a bit of lying in that statement. I blinked at her unimpressed.

"Hey! What's with that look? I can't check up on one of my friends?" I don't know, can you? I gave her a head tilt as answer. She rolled my eyes.

"Why can I tell that you're being sarcastic with me right now?" Maybe because I am. She sighed, exasperated.

"Alright, alright. So I have a bit of an ulterior motive here, but it's nothing bad. I promise!" If I could raise a brow at her, I would. I simply sat there, waiting for her to continue.

"So I know that you fucked up, but I'm here to help you..." I flapped my wings, slightly bewildered. What was that suppose to mean? The girl rolled her eyes.

"I promised I wouldn't interfere too much but I can push you in the right direction..." I still not following completely...

"The Ball will be over soon and I wouldn't stand to see my best friend sulk any longer! So here's the plan: I gonna convince Judith to help me with something and I separate her from Andre for little while. You're gonna be hiding out in the Courtyard. While Judith is "helping" me, I gonna go back to the Great Hall and you'll make your grand entrance. I think a dance with you will make her night ten times better. You got all that, bird boy?" I simply turned around and flew out of the open window behind me.

I guess a quick stop to my room wouldn't hurt...

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

(Judith Harris)

I'm ready to just crash in my bed right now. I'm over it.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm happy to be at the Celestial Ball. After all this timing planning, it great to see that it was all worth it. Though one detail that just made me see dim colors.

I wasn't with the person I wanted to go with.

I have no clue where I possibly got the idea that Talbott would be interested in me and would go to the Ball with me. Once I heard that he wasn't going, I just mentally gave up and walked away before I could make a bigger fool of myself. I was internally wallowing in my self pity when I unknowingly bumped into Andre.

The boy seem anxious for whatever reason. I softly asked the style wizard if everything was okay. And that's when he shyly asked me if I was going to the Ball with anyone. Still kinda down about how the situation played out with Talbott, I told the stylish Ravenclaw no. Perking up a bit, he asked if I would like to go with him.

The silence that ensued was deafening. I meant what I said that I doubt any wizard would consider asking me to be their guest to the Ball. Look at the universe proving me wrong and shit. I shyly accepted Andre's offer. We're going as friends.

The universe was partially laughing at me.

I was enjoying my time with Andre, don't get me wrong. He's the definition of a gentleman. Making sure that I was okay, getting me drinks or little snacks if I needed it, showering me in compliments. Everything.

And I admit, he looked rather handsome tonight. The lights bringing out a shine in those brown eyes that never seem to leave me. Even when I was in his arms for a particular slow dance, he looked down at me with a fond expression. The way his hand was holding my own and the way its twin held by the curve of my waist was rather... intimate. The way he spoke is low hush tones as we quietly spoke during our dance felt private. For the life of me, I couldn't stop blushing because of how being that close to him made me feel. The dance was rather sweet but I knew my heart wasn't in it, which made me feel a bit guilty.

His arms weren't the ones I wanted to be in.

His brown eyes weren't the eyes I wanted looking at me with adoration and shy affection.

Andre wasn't the one I wanted to be with.

I consider him to be a good friend, an amazing mate at that. But that's as far as I'll ever see him.

I let out a soft sigh, gazing out one of the windows of the Great Hall. I wonder how Talbott is spending his night. I felt someone grab my hand, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"I brought you some more punch, Judith," Andre said, holding a goblet in his other hand. I gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, Andre..." Taking the goblet, I drank the cool beverage. Shit, I need it. With trying to help Brooke with her chaotic love life and making sure a jealous Penny doesn't rip Diego a new one, I deserve a small breather. Especially when I had to steal Diego away temporarily for a dance. Diego was a hint to overzealous about this and didn't hesitate to sweep me across the dance floor. Just as I was regretting my decisions in life when Diego talked about a possible "date", Brooke stepped in and saved my ass. I was surprised I was able to dart away so quickly in heels.

Needless to say, I need a little something to relax me.

"Heyyyyy Judith~" Oh for crying out loud, what now? I side eyed my best friend as she gave me a guileless smile.

"What did you do this time," I asked. Brooke looked at me slightly offended.

"Psh, me?! I didn't do any-" I gave her a pointed look. She had the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's nothing bad, I was wondering if you can help me find my earring..." Looking closer, I noticed that one of her clip on dragon earrings was indeed missing.

"How the heck did you manage to lose it," I asked, confused.

"I went to the Courtyard to get some air because it was getting hot in here and it must've fallen off my ear." I raised a brow.

"Wouldn't you have felt it come off? Plus, isn't it metal? So you would've heard it hit the ground," I pointed out.

"I was wondering around and was lost in my thoughts, Judith. You know I wouldn't be paying attention like that," she said with an eye roll.

"But you should've been able to find it, you do have sharp eyesight thanks to your glasses," I hinted. The girl was an avian Animagus. She should have ridiculously good eyesight.

"I must've been so much in a panic looking for it, I gonna need a second pair of eyes."

"But-"

"Oh my gosh, Judith. Are you gonna help me or not?!" I sighed and nodded to my best friend. I turned to Andre, who was smirking down at me.

"The Sorting Hat certainly was right about you having the qualities to be a Ravenclaw, Judith," he said. I rolled my eyes and let out a soft chuckle.

"But I'm not. I just tend to think about certain things more. I'll be back later..." Andre nodded, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. I was a little stunned, even as Brooke quickly dragged me to the Courtyard.

Oh Andre, why must you make this difficult?

"I'm gonna look at this side of the Courtyard and you'll look over there? Alright," Brooke said as she walked over to one end of the Courtyard. I rolled my eyes. Okay, I guess. I casted Lumos and began to search for the earring. After awhile, I came up with nothing.

"Brooke, I can't find the damn thing, you sure you dropped it out here?"

"Hello Judith..." ...that's not Brooke...

I slowly turned to find myself looking into red eyes. I felt my heart stall in my chest for a few moments.

"T-Talbott?! What are you doing here," I asked, my face felt like it was burning. The quiet Ravenclaw boy sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly unsure of himself.

"I-I... um... I'm actually here to see you..."

"R-really," I asked shyly. Sugar Honey Ice Tea, is this really happening right now? Talbott stepped closer and held my right hand, tying something around my wrist. I looked closer and blushed.

A red camellia with a gold ribbon...

You're a flame in my heart...

Do. Not. Faint.

"I know I said I didn't want to go to the Ball, b-but... I was wondering if you're willing to spare me a dance," he whispered. I looked into his eyes. His red eyes screamed his fear... but whispered his hope. My heart was jack hammering against my ribcage as I made my decision.

"I-I... I would love to dance with you..." Talbott gave me a small smile, relief washing over his features. That's when I took a moment to study him. Surprisingly, he wasn't in his class robes. His usual black slacks and dress shoes were present, but a red short sleeve dress shirt with gold tribal designs on his right side took the place of his usual vest and robe.

Has he always been this handsome?

Stupid question, yes he has been. Dear Gods, help me...

His hand slipped into my own as he led me to the middle of Courtyard. I felt my heart race as he paused to look at me. I suddenly became self conscious.

"W-what? Is there something on my face," I asked shyly. Talbott shook his head and let out a shaky sigh.

"N-no... I just... you look stunning tonight, Judith... I almost can't believe that you agreed to do this with me..." Mind if I swoon right now?

"T-thank you, Talbott... and if I can be honest right now..." I took a deep breath, my heart just threatening to make me pass out right now. Talbott's red eyes staring into my own.

"I-I-I... I actually wanted to go to the Ball with you," I confessed. Talbott froze, for a second I thought he forget to breathe. He let out a low chuckle and dropped his head.

"No wonder she said I fucked up... because I did," he mumbled, running his fingers through his hair. I blushed a bit at the sight of him looking slightly disheveled. But I picked up on what he said and mentally slapped my forehead.

Brooke...

As much as I wanna find her and shake her stupid...

She did give me an opportunity...

I reached up, taking the Ravenclaw's face in between my hands so he could look at me.

"Hey, that doesn't matter right now. We're here, aren't we? So let's make the most of it," I whispered. Talbott bit his lip before nodding. One hand found the small of my back while it's twin held my right hand. I rested my remaining hand on his shoulder, stepping closer.

Why does this feel so familiar...

"There isn't any real music for us to dance to," I pointed out. The boy smiled at me.

"I know a song... from my childhood... something my parents use to dance to. I'll share with you one day, but for right now, do you trust me," he asked, looking slightly unsure of himself. I squeezed his hand.

"I trust you, Talbott..." That was all he needed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7JXLczaxJs

Talbott led the dance. It was surprisingly slow in the beginning but picking up speed and fluidity as the song played in Talbott's head. Even more surprisingly, how I was able to keep up with him and never heard the melody. I could only imagine seeing Talbott as a little boy, sitting and watching his parents dance the same way he is now...

With me, of all people...

I snapped out of my thoughts as I felt him release my hand in favor of the holding the curve of my waist. I instinctively gripped both his shoulders and he picked me and spun me around. I couldn't help the carefree laughter that escaped me. The warmth the bubbled within my heart spread throughout my body as I looked down at him. This moment...

His eyes were shining bright under the moon light, shadowed by his dark lashes. His full lips spread into a small smile, but something about this smile was different.

It held a level of warmth and sincerity.

Fondness and affection.

Shyness and caution.

His expression spoke of emotion I wouldn't dare to name aloud. Talbott has been alone for a good portion of his life, for him to lo...

Me?

I didn't dare put any hope on it, in case I was wrong. I don't wish to be on the receiving end of a broken heart. I've seen it happened to Brooke, and I don't think I ready to face such a thing myself.

Talbott set me down, resuming our initial position and continuing our dance.

"I've never known you to be playful, Talbott," I chuckled as gazed into those captivating red eyes. He smirked at me.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Judith," he said, spinning me under his arm. I let out a laugh.

"'Tis true, Mr. Winger. You are a Keeper of Secrets, everything hidden away under an cold lock," I teased as I found myself back in his arms. The hand on my back pressed me closer to him and for a split second I almost forgot how to breathe.

"You may be on to something, Miss Harris... maybe you hold the key to that lock..." I-

I didn't get the chance to reply as Talbott braced his arm around me, dipping me with surprising grace. Time seem to slow down as he pulled me back up, both of us spinning around with grace and poise. We slowed to a stop. I felt him release my hand to find my waist yet again, pulling me closer. Both my hands pressed against his chest, leaning into him. Neither of us spoke, simply taking in the moment. Our faces were surprisingly close, our eyes half lid as we silently stared at each other.

Red and gold...

I took a deep breath, the scent of his cologne, which reminds the crisp morning air in the forest. My eyes fluttered dainty as I felt my knees weaken. Talbott's grip tighten on me, keeping me upright.

"Talbott..." came my breathless whisper.

"Yes, Judith," he whispered back. I don't know what came over me. Maybe because of the adrenaline from our dance. Maybe it was because of the comforting scent of his cologne that was just so him. Maybe it's because of how I'm noticing how dashingly handsome the loner Ravenclaw boy was, especially until the mystical moonlight.

Maybe it's because I like him more than I'm willing to admit at this current point in time...

I leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. I heard his breath hitch but he didn't push me away. I let myself to linger for a few moments, longer than necessary. I didn't want to part with him so soon, but I knew I had to go back to the Ball and Andre...

I pulled away, giving the blushing boy a smile.

"Thank you for the dance, Talbott... you made my night..." Talbott returned the smile.

"Anything for you, Judith. I know you have to go back but..." he took one of my right hand, kissing my knuckles while he looked into my eyes.

"Goodnight, little bird. Sweet dreams," he said softly. If he keeps this up, I'm gonna swoon for real...

"Goodnight, Talbott. Sweet dreams," I softly replied. I slowly began to walk away, our hands lingering until I was too far away to hold on anymore. As I approached the entrance of the castle, I glanced over my shoulder. The aloof Ravenclaw graced me with one last smile before transforming into his massive Golden Eagle and taking off. I sighed, gazing at the flower around my wrist before holding it close over my heart.

What a night under the Celestial Lights...

[clumsyclifford]

“ok you’ve been trying to put on that eyeliner almost the entire bus ride and you’re strugglin, so i’ma help you out” can you please maybe do this as a malum au?

anon this is. genuinely this is four months late and i am so sorry for that NFKDJGMKGLJ but on the bright side i didn’t forget !!!!!! 

anyway i would like to add that this fic is sneakily (heavily) inspired by Influencer by littleficlets on ao3 yes i’ve talked about it a hundred times before no i will never stop anyway. please enjoy this silliness and keep in mind that when i started writing it it WAS pride month so it made a little bit more sense. just. pretend it’s still june. and like. that there’s no virus adfgjfkgjkgjdf

-

“You’re going to blind people,” Michael tells Luke as he dabs glitter on his cheekbones.

Luke frowns briefly at him before returning to his reflection. “You’re just jealous.”

“I’m serious. There are lights on you, like, for most of the show. You’re going to blind all of our fans.”

“With your beauty,” Ashton (un)helpfully contributes from his bunk, where he’s doing something that’s probably makeup, but Michael’s not sure. “And overall sexiness.”

“Thank you,” Luke says.

“No,” Michael says. “With your fucking glitter. We already know you’re gay, Luke.”

“It’s pride month,” Luke says, pouting. “I’ll be as gay as I want.”

Michael rolls his eyes. Like Luke needs to keep telegraphing that he likes guys. But if that’s how he wants to express himself, fine. He can glitter it up all he likes.

Michael doesn’t feel like he needs to go all out with the pride makeup, but Luke had kind of insisted that they do a pride makeup night at least one night of June, so here they all are, in various states of undress as the tour bus chugs along, and occupying every mirror or iPhone front-facing camera in a desperate attempt to put on makeup on a moving bus. It’s not easy.

On the bright side, Michael had had the foresight to do most of his own makeup before they hit the terrible roads. Now the bus keeps jerking, and every so often they’ll hear Ashton cry out “Ow! Fuck!” after the bus jolts one way or the other. His own fault for trying to do makeup in his bunk. Michael is pretty sure he’s trying to, like, save his look so he can stun Luke, but more power to him.

Luke will drool over him no matter what anyway, so it’s a pretty futile effort, but whatever.

Anyway, Michael’s more invested in what Calum is up to. Calum, sweet, beautiful Calum, who has been staring at his own reflection in his phone screen for about ten minutes, trying again and again to put on his eyeliner. They learned early on in the process of experimenting with makeup that you should do your eyeliner last, but thankfully Calum hadn’t heeded that warning, because whatever other makeup he might have put on would have been wiped away with Calum’s first failed attempt at eyeliner.

In the beginning it’s kind of hilarious, watching Calum struggle. Michael loves him — honest — but the sounds of increasing frustration as he keeps fucking up are hysterical. It doesn’t help that he looks kind of silly every time his hand jerks from a sudden bus movement that draws a long black line next to his eye. But now it’s going on ten, maybe twelve minutes, and at least Luke’s made progress with his glitter. Calum is still sitting there on the couch, looking more determined and fed up than ever, eyeliner pencil poised next to his face.

Michael takes pity. He’s not a monster.

“Hey,” he says, sitting next to Calum. 

“Not now,” Calum says.

“Don’t be rude,” Michael says. “Let me help you.”

“Absolutely not.” Calum briefly lifts his eyes from his phone screen to glare at Michael. “You’ll just draw a dick on my face.”

“Well, that can’t look worse than what you’ve got going on.”

Calum turns the glare up.

“I’m joking,” Michael says. “Look, you’ve already got raccoon eyes from all your failed attempts. Let me just do it for you. I’ve been doing eyeliner for, like, six years. I’m a pro.”

Calum gives him a skeptical look. “Your eyeliner in 2014 was awful.”

“Yeah, but I’ve improved,” Michael wheedles. “Please. I’m begging you. It’s agony watching you fail this much.”

“You love watching me fail,” Calum grumbles, but he drops his phone into his lap and caps the eyeliner pen, and Michael knows he’s gaining ground.

“Yeah, but I also love proving that I’m so much better at something than you are.” Michael holds out a hand. “Gimme.”

Calum looks cross, but he hands over the eyeliner pen. Victorious, Michael sets it aside and says, “Let me take off all this leftover smudgy stuff first,” and pulls a makeup wipe from the open pack between Calum’s knees. Calum sighs, as if Michael’s not doing him an immense favor, and looks up at the roof of the tour bus so Michael can get at the black smudges under his eyes. 

“Cute,” Michael says when he’s finished. Calum blinks a bunch and then looks at the makeup wipe, streaked in black. “Can I blow on your face?”

“Keep it PG!” Luke chides over his shoulder. Michael flips him off.

“Don’t blow on my face,” Calum says.

“The makeup wipe stuff needs to dry before I can put your eyeliner on.”

“So let it air dry.”

“That’ll take too long.”

“Patience is a virtue, Mikey.”

“You would know,” Michael says sagely. “You did try for almost fifteen minutes to put on this eyeliner, after all.”

If looks could kill, Michael would be a goner.

"I'm breaking up with you and suing for emotional damages," Calum says.

"You don't mean that," Michael says, leaning in to sweep a fluttering kiss on the tip of Calum's nose.

"Try me," Calum mutters.

Michael decides to let him be bitter for the moment, because priorities. "At least dry your face off."

Calum pulls his t-shirt over his face and wipes aggressively at it. "Good?"

Michael grins. "Aw, baby's learning to follow orders."

"Shut the fuck up."

"You love me," Michael says, and then, "Don't speak, you'll mess me up." Calum rolls his eyes. "And don't move or I'll stab your eye."

Calum huffs. Michael waits for him to still before leaning in with the eyeliner pencil. It's true he'd been pretty bad at eyeliner back in 2014, but Michael hadn't been lying when he'd said he's improved. That's mostly thanks to Lou teaching him the proper way to put it on, during the Where We Are Tour, but Michael has also practiced enough times to feel confident as he puts the pencil to Calum's face. It's also easier because it's not liquid eyeliner; that's a whole different boss battle.

Calum stays dutifully quiet as Michael works, breathing hot against Michael's wrist but saying nothing. Michael can't help but feel like this is weirdly intimate, which is strange since they've literally fucked, but somehow this feels deeper. The fact that Calum trusts him with a semi-sharp object near his face is pretty profound. Luke would never.

Finally, Michael pulls back, admiring his own handiwork. "Damn," he says. "You look hot."

Calum's lips pull into a smile, although he's obviously trying not to. "Thanks," he says. "I'll take it from here."

"You do kinda look hot," Luke puts in. Apparently he's finally finished his glitter and is now standing next to the couch. 

"Don't call Calum hot, I wanna see!" Ashton calls out.

"Then come out here, asshole!" 

"You come here!"

"Nope, sorry," Calum replies, grinning. "Just have to wait and see."

“I’m done anyway,” Ashton grumbles, and a moment later there’s a clattering noise. Ashton clumsily slips out of the bunk and straightens up, stretching his arms above his head. Michael’s pretty sure he hears something crack.

Luke whistles lowly. “Shit.”

Finally Ashton’s gaze lands on Luke, and he smiles bashfully. “You look good.”

“You look amazing for someone who did all of his makeup in an unlit bunk on a moving tour bus,” Luke returns, tripping over himself to pull Ashton into a kiss. Michael rolls his eyes. At least Ashton’s efforts have been rewarded. 

Michael, on the other hand. 

He brings his eyes back to Calum’s, still kind of floored by how good he looks with eyeliner, with the way it makes his eyes even more intense. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

“Not if you’re a little bitch about it,” Calum says, but he’s already leaning in, one hand warm against the back of Michael’s neck.

“Hey,” comes Ashton’s voice a moment later. “Let me see Calum.”

Michael breaks away irritably. “Can you not? We’re trying to make out here.”

“Hey, you do look hot,” Ashton tells Calum, ignoring Michael. Michael hits his leg. 

“Go away, asshole,” he says. “Leave us alone.”

Ashton grins. “Don’t worry, Mike, you look hot too.”

“I know that,” Michael says, although he takes the compliment to heart anyway, because he likes when people think he looks good, and he values Ashton’s opinion more than most.

(His own boyfriend excepted, obviously.)

“I need to finish doing my eyes anyway,” Calum says, giving Michael a quick kiss on the cheek. “Or you can do it, if you’re so inclined.”

“I am,” Michael decides. He smiles and reaches for the glittery eyeshadow pot balanced on Calum’s thigh. “You’re so pretty, you know.”

Calum blushes, deep red. “Stop it.”

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” Michael says quietly, “with or without makeup. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”

Calum exhales, smiling as Michael reaches for his face. His eyes flutter shut and Michael sweeps the shiny eyeshadow over his eyelids. “Love you,” is all he says, and Michael smiles, too, because that’s really what he’d been getting at.

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 2

A/N: Here’s the second part of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! Part 2 focuses on the #ppaw2021 theme of the day, Favorite TV show Pedro starred in. Obviously, I still loved Pedro best in The Mandalorian, but his performance as Oberyn Martell in Game of Thrones was absolutely exquisite!

Thank you to @pedrohub​ for the incentive to write this little fic. To @pedrocentric​, here is Part 2!

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

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A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Two

Pedro was limping back to his trailer, struggling against the urge to massage his aching groin. He had just come from the Volume to film a scene with Gina Carano, who plays Cara Dune, and Misty Rosas, who was playing the Ugnaught Kuiil. It was a simple scene actually, requiring their characters to ride through the rugged terrain of Nevarro in order to make their rendezvous with Carl Weather’s Greef Karga. In the pre-vis, they were going to ride blurrgs. In reality, the blurrgs turned out to be mechanical bulls, but with a wider girth. 

Brendan and Lateef had seen the dubious looks he was throwing at the machine and they couldn’t help laughing.

“Come on, man!” Lateef said in between wheezes. “There’s nothing to worry about. That thing won’t buck.”

“Hey! You can’t be Mando just by wearing the armor,” Brendan then goaded him. “You must ride the blurrg. Both Lateef and I have done it, so can you.”

Pedro let out a groan and gritted his teeth at that memory. Even his back was starting to ache in sympathy with his groin. “I guess I’m starting to feel my age. I really need to work out more.”

With his trailer looming not so far from him at last, he quickened his pace, wanting that ice pack he had his assistant prepare for him in the fridge. 

Before he could reach it, however, Pedro’s eyes were drawn to Werner Herzog’s trailer nearby. The German director was seated in front of his trailer beneath a beach umbrella, the Child on his lap. He was watching something on his iPad, which was propped up on its stand on top of a small table. Pedro heard snickers and he whirled to see the puppeteers Tamara Woodard, Kan, and Trevor with remote controls in their hands, hiding behind the crates. 

Deb Chow happened to be passing by and, when she saw the trio, she remarked, “You guys are the worst! You should really stop feeding that old man’s fantasies!”

“We just want to keep him happy,” Kan answered, flicking a knob so that Pedro saw Grogu’s ears go up. Sagely, he added, “We all know the stories about him and Klaus Kinski. We’re not taking any chances.” The others nodded in grim agreement, causing Deb to roll her eyes, mutter “I give up!” under her breath, and march off.

Curiosity getting the better of him in the end, Pedro cautiously approached that imperious figure. “Hi, what are you guys watching?”

Werner glanced briefly back at him and said dryly, “Oh, it’s you.” Going back to the TV show playing on his iPad, he replied, “Since you are playing our stoic bounty hunter, I thought I should explore your previous works. The Child and I were going to watch Narcos, but since it’s about Pablo Escobar, it might be too violent for the little one. So I figured the best option would be your episode in Game of Thrones.”

“Uhm, I don’t think Game of Thrones is also appropriate viewing for a kid that young,” Pedro commented in turn, only to realize what he just said. Wait! I’m talking about a puppet, not a real kid. Oh my God! This delusion is contagious! Grogu looked up then and gave him a sweet smile. But, then again, he’s so cute! Awww!

Werner’s lips pursed in a disapproving pout. “Yes, I know. I was pouring myself some iced tea when that scene of you in the brothel came on. I couldn’t cover the baby’s eyes fast enough, so he was able to catch an eyeful of ample bosoms and buttocks.” He glanced down at the baby sitting on his lap, wagging a finger. “Remember what Grandpa Werner told you. When you see a scene like that, you must never watch, you must never listen.”

Great! Pedro couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes, just as Deb had done. Now, you’re quoting Grizzly Man at him. 

At Werner’s remark, Grogu gazed up at Pedro again. There was no mistaking the now lecherous, toothy grin on his little face and the enthusiastic bobbing up and down of his brows.

Scowling, Pedro turned to the mischievous puppeteers. He mouthed out to them, “Guys! What the fuck?”

In reply, the puppeteers gave him thumbs up and wide, conniving smirks. 

“I should say though,” Werner then began thoughtfully, “I am very impressed with your performance here. Oberyn Martell, a proud, head-strong, and seductive prince desiring revenge for his poor sister… In other actors, the arrogance would overwhelm their performance, making him a figure to be detested or, worse, a caricature of similar characters in past films. But, no, behind that façade is kindness and gentleness. It’s because of your eyes, I think, and your voice. You’re speaking with a Latino accent in this one. You are from Mexico?”

“No, Chile actually.”

“You have a splendid way of expressing your emotions through tone of voice. Very few actors can do that. Brilliant performance, young man,” Werner gave that reluctant praise. “I can see why they chose you to play the Mandalorian. Even if you are not wearing the armor, you can still carry the character on your voice alone. How old were you when you did this?” “

“Uh, 38, 39, I guess.”

“And how old are you now?”

“I’m 43.” Pedro was not sure where this line of questioning was going.

“And it is only now that Hollywood has taken notice of your talent.” The German director shook his head ruefully. “Hollywood has become too reliant on the so-called ‘star power.’ I dread to think about the other precious little stars who are going unnoticed.”

Pedro was touched by Werner’s words. “It’s okay, sir. I’ve paid my dues, done my share of waiting on tables as a struggling actor. In fact, after working on Game of Thrones, I couldn’t find a single job. It took months before I got a recurring role on another TV show, The Mentalist.”

“Now, you have made it at last.”

“I’m not letting this current success get to my head. I know just how fickle Hollywood can be. To be very honest, I still don’t have that confidence. All this…” He raised his hands to the media campus surrounding them. “…All the work that I’ve been doing in the past few months, it still seems like a dream to me.”

“And that’s a very good attitude to have. Always be true to yourself. Show people who you truly are.” A wry, fond smile formed on Werner’s lips. “I suddenly remembered Klaus Kinski. He had been extremely difficult. He was a man with serious mental health problems. But he never sought to disguise his true self. It made it very hard for people like me, his family, and other people around him. Despite his foul temper, his brutality, it is that frank, straight-in-your-face honesty, I think that’s what I admired most about him.” 

Pedro chuckled. “At least, I’m not hot-tempered like Klaus Kinski.”

A towering hulk of a man marched onscreen on the iPad and Werner gasped. “That is no man! That’s a grizzly bear!”

“That’s Hafþór Júlíus Björnsson, one of the world’s strongest men. He played Ser Gregor Clegane, aka ‘The Mountain Who Rides’, in Game of Thrones.”

At that moment, a bright idea suddenly came into Pedro’s head. Should I dare ask him now? He did just praise me after all. Maybe he is already starting to accept me. Okay, I will!

“Uhm, Mr. Herzog?” Pedro began shyly. “Since you liked my past performances and appreciate my worth as an actor, may you please allow me to spend more time with the baby?”

Werner turned to him sharply, his eyes flashing like daggers. “I appreciate your worth as an actor, true. But it absolutely has nothing to do with caring for this baby.”

Pedro was crestfallen. Still, he persisted, “Sir, please. I promise you that I will and can take good care of the baby. My sister Javiera…she often entrusts the care of her kids to me.”

“But they are not your children! You are a bachelor.” Werner looked him straight in the eye. “How could you be a father to this Child when you aren’t one?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, sir, this Child is a puppet.”

“Then how can you commit to playing a father when you cannot immerse yourself in the fantasy?”

“But how can I commit when you’re keeping the Child all to yourself?”

“I have only three episodes to do in this TV show. I want to make the most of this time I have with him. We have just started filming. You have an entire season to bond with him!”

“No, I don’t! I still have to finish my commitments with Wonder Woman 1984. I only have a single episode with the Child this season, so my time here is short!”

Because the two men were arguing heatedly, none of them noticed that the Child was still watching the episode on the iPad. He was staring enrapt as the trial by combat between Oberyn Martell and the Mountain commenced. Many times, Grogu would look closely at Oberyn’s face and then gaze up admiringly at Pedro.

But then, the Mountain struck back with a vicious blow, knocking out Oberyn’s teeth. As the Child watched in growing horror, the Mountain placed his fingers over Oberyn’s eyes and pressed down.

Both Pedro and Werner were shocked when Grogu let out a high-pitched scream, his eyes wide and waving his little arms frantically. A quick glance at the iPad and Pedro realized why Grogu was in a state of mortal terror.

Before Werner could stop him, Pedro scooped the distraught Child up and started rocking him, patting his back. Grogu kept shaking his little head, rubbing his brow over the soft cloth of the cape hanging above Pedro’s collarbone.

“Sssh! Don’t cry, Grogu,” Pedro whispered soothingly in his ear, being careful that Werner did not hear the Child’s name. “It’s just a TV show. As you can see, I’m okay. He never hurt me.” To his relief, his gentle reassurances gradually calmed the Child down.

Still stunned to silence, Werner could only watch with mouth agape as Pedro placed Grogu back on his lap. To his credit, the Child raised his arms to him, wanting more hugs. Despite his longing, Pedro just gave the little one a gentle smile and a pat on the head.

“Stop watching my past works with the Child,” Pedro scolded the German filmmaker. “None of them are appropriate for kids, except for that one Touched By An Angel episode. I wouldn’t even recommend The Great Wall because he might get scared of the Tao Tei monsters.”

Having given the final word, Pedro limped off to his trailer to get that ice pack and some much-needed rest.

Neither man noticed the perplexed group of puppeteers behind them, all of them staring down at their remote controls. Kan even took to giving his controls little shakes.

When their fellow puppeteer Jason Matthews came over, Trevor asked him, “Hey, Jason! Were you controlling the puppet just now?”

“No, I was in a meeting with Dave.”

Tamara interrupted, “Did you install a mic on the kid because we just heard him scream?”

Jason stared back at them. “What mic? You know that any baby noises will be added by the sound guys later.”

Kan gripped a startled Jason’s arms. “We saw the Child move…by itself! And he also screamed, like a real baby!”

Jason grabbed Kan’s hands and slowly lowered them. “Get a grip, will ya? It’s probably just a minor malfunction. Get the puppet from Mr. Herzog and we’ll check it out.”

“But…but…”

“No buts! You shouldn’t have been playing with it to begin with. You AND Mr. Herzog.”

The puppeteers then walked off, leaving his confused crew behind. 

“But…but…we did see the Child move by itself!” they argued back feebly.

TO BE CONTINUED

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 1: Preying in the dark (Part 2)

Warnings: murder, blood and violence

Author notes: the second part is out! You can read part 1 here!

The night was heavy, tensed. The ambient silence was deafening, oppressive. Had I not heard people's miserable thoughts, the atmosphere would have been awfully quiet. At such times, the slums of Yokohama were the stage of numerous illicit exchanges — drugs, mostly, but also humans — and muffled violence. In that place, where breathing could burn one's lungs with poverty, a fight gone wrong, a drunken man attempting rape on a poor lost girl or the assassination of any notorious man running away in that kind of remote place were common, and completely mute. There would seldom be a cry, a scream, some laughter, but nothing could ever pierce the curtain of stillness draped over the shallows. It was on nights particularly well lightened up by a full moon that the thieves gangs usually made a move.

Swiftly, with a band I had been given to avoid lice upon my arrival, I tied my hair in a neat ponytail. Then, from under the thin blanket a thief had offered me as a welcome gift, I grabbed the handle of a small dagger, a weapon I had bought with the little money I had earned from my first robbery, and hung it at my belt. Thanks to rags and scraps of fabric I had found, I had managed to make myself clothes, or rather, I had repaired my own, which had suffered from numerous holes and usury. I took a deep breath and went out of the shack made of plastic I lived in, pulling the hood of my dark cloak over my head to hide my face, then reached the group of burglars who had kindly welcomed me among them when I had been wandering without a place to go. I had been taught the ways of the slums, the ways of our peculiar work, in that underground world. Surely, we did not eat everyday, but that place felt warmer to me than the luxurious mansion I had grown up in. The money we earned by stealing whether honest or not people was redistributed among children, younger than me, to contribute to feeding them. For the sake of defending myself and with the purpose of helping out during missions in mind, the thieves had also taught me how to use a knife to fight, and how to use any kind of pin to pick up a lock easily and discreetly. Gradually, I had improved my agility and strength, despite being chronically weakened by the effects of my ability. Nevertheless, these people had not given up on me and had even given me a chance to be part of their gang. I was grateful that they had not thrown me away like my parents had, and had decided to dedicate myself to their cause. This evening, we were heading to a jewellery they had been keeping an eye on for months. After countless hours of observation, they had reconstituted the schedule of the owner, and had found the perfect time to hit and steal as much jewels as possible. I was to accompany them, and could not hide my excitement as I followed them in the alleys. It would be my first real robbery, not a mere pickpocketing in the streets or a grocery theft, no. A real robbery of a jewellery. If everything went as planned, we would be very rich in an hour or so.

We arrived in front of the shop. As expected, the streets were deserted, people were sleeping and, mostly, there was no camera. In such a fancy shop, there should have been a device or two, yet... None. That detail should have caught my attention, but all impatient I was, I did not listen to my consciousness advising to be careful. I had the honour of picking up the lock of the shop and, fingers trembling in anticipation, opened the door to the Aladdin's cave to reveal showcases futilely protecting brightly shining diamonds and gems of all sorts. The cases were quickly opened and the jewels were shoved into our bags within a blink, without any resistance. Again, we should have been concerned about the lack of alarm and surveillance cameras, but could one blame us, poor and miserable humans putting our hands onto unimaginable riches for the first time? Already, the prospect of a better life was building inside my creative mind, and, overwhelmed by the joyful and exhilarating feeling of being wealthy, we made our way out of the jewellery. For once, I could understand, somehow, why greed had blinded the parents who had given birth to me. Money could make one absolutely intoxicated, addicted, and any human could go to any extent to obtain the holy boodle. I was the last one of the group and, wanting to make sure we had not forgotten anything, I stayed back a minute in the shop. It had been the brightest idea of the night.

Ripping apart the silence of the night, the infernal buzzing of machine guns erupted in the street and the deathly ballet of bullets took my companions' lives, accompanied by a choir of screeching screams. I had not heard anyone's thoughts. That useless ability of mine had not even detected the trap we had fallen into. Heart painfully thumping against my rib cage, I dashed toward the back of the shop and squeezed myself in between brooms, mops and cleaning products. In a desperate attempt to calm down my breathing, I clasped my two hands onto my mouth — a rather practical move which prevented me from crying as well.

"Take a look inside so we don't let a vermin escape." A poised voice ordered "It's too bad they had no brains. Trying to steal from a shop under the protection of the Port Mafia... Did they think we would not notice them observing us?"

I understood. The lack of surveillance cameras and the reason why no alarm had rung during our deeds... It was because, from the beginning, the shop had been watched by dogs of the Port Mafia, a notorious underground organisation. From the beginning, we had been destined to be suppressed...

"To think I could be with my wife and kids..." A man grumbled, entering the back room "Damn thieves..."

I prayed for him not to open the closet where I was hidden. If he were to find me... If he were to find me, my short life would end... Or perhaps I could beg for them to spare me...? To which cost, however...? Footsteps got closer to me and I closed my eyes, biting down onto my hands not to let out a sob which would betray my position. The door to the closet suddenly moved. His hand was set onto the knob, and he was about to open it, when...

His phone rang. With an annoyed groan, he picked up his call and stepped away from the closet. My heart was beating erratically as he assured his wife he would go home soon and I could not help a sigh from escaping my lips as he finally walked out. Was I safe...? I had been incredibly lucky to escape unscathed... Surely, I could not indulge in such dangerous activities anymore. Despite living in utmost misery, I cared about being alive and being disfigured by a machine gun was not on the top of my list of ways to die.

"Let's move on if there is no one left." The same voice as earlier demanded.

Still trembling, I sneaked out of the closet, then out of the shop to step outside, in the streets. The moon seemed to be staring down at me, terrifying, like the single eye of a cyclops, and, mimicking a spotlight pointed onto actors, showed me the terrible sight of the thieves' corpses. I covered my mouth, fearing I would throw up in disgust in front of the viscous scarlet blood oozing from the gross piles of fresh flesh. I retched as the particularly repulsive stench of decomposing bodies reached my nose and I stepped away, feeling nauseous.

Time stopped when a gunshot echoed in my back.

"Well, well, well... What do we have here? More than a vermin, it rather looks like a frightened bunny. Looks like I was right to stay back... Because I love hunting~"

I froze, unable to budge a single muscle. I could not get my body to run and remained, absolutely stunned and feet embedded in the ground, as the man walked toward me, slowly, menacingly. He appeared in my field of view, suddenly, his large coat floating around his thin body, and pointed his gun toward my forehead.

"Worry not. It will be a painless death." His voice wanted to be reassuring despite the mocking tone he used.

I ducked. The barrel of his weapon was still letting smoke out from his shot, and, luckily, I had regained some control over my body.

"Hoh...~ Persistent much...~?"

I did not let him time to savour the vision of his prey desperately trying to stay alive and ran past him, bumping into him purposely to make him lose his balance in an attempt to gain some precious seconds to escape.

Following nothing but my survival instinct, I ran away from him, epinephrine rushing through my vessels to guide my legs in the back alleys of Yokohama, in between dirty and greyish walls, all the way back to the slums, where I lived. I was panting when I finally reached my shack and immediately glanced over my shoulder to see if he had been able to follow me. No one. All of my stress suddenly dropped, bringing me to the ground as I broke into tears, too happy to be alive and to have escaped from the mafioso. Despite the thieves' death, despite the failed robbery, despite my ability taking the better of my mind, the only emotion I could feel was the deep relief of being able to see the next day's sunrise.

Upon hearing about the events which had occurred during the robbery, the remaining members of the gang had decided to chase me from the group to guarantee both my and their safety. They had also advised me to look for a shack in another part of the slums, just in case the mafioso would still be looking for me, and had wished me luck to survive. Once again, I had nowhere to go anymore... The new shack I had taken was barely bigger than my previous one; at least, I could stretch my legs while sleeping. I had lost my occupation and the place I thought I could belong to, all because we had been too careless. I sighed, staring at the wall made of plastic. What could I do? How would I occupy my days, and, mostly, how would I survive? My headache was worsening as the days passed, and I was aware that fatigue would slowly kill me if an infectious disease did not. I wanted to live, yet I did not know how to. It was simpler to die. At the very least, surrounded by eternal darkness, I would not need to wonder about means to keep myself alive. However, I did not wish to end my time in that world just yet. I wanted to try and experience life. Only, it seemed life did not want me to experience it. Determined, I decided to wander around the city during the day. Perhaps would I be able to steal one or two wallets from distracted tourists, which would be better than starving. With renewed vigour, I left my shack and headed to the centre of Yokohama.

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[imagine-what-would-happen]

A Little Bit of Grey (Part 2)

Hey guys! So part one has started to get a bit of love and I’m just so excited to continue this story so I decided to continue writing! I really hope you guys enjoy the story as much as I do! Also this part is basically half the length that the first one was but due to it being May the 4th, I’m deciding on posting two parts today, hopefully the second will be longer. So here goes nothing! P.s I watched The Rise of Skywalker tonight for the first time and I’m crying as I’m writing this. Send help.

Link to Part 1

Link to Part 3

Link to Masterlist

Word Count: 1.9k

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It was hard to keep track of time while in space... not that Kylo had much experience of living on one planet for long enough to think about the time in which the sun or suns rose and set. That was probably one thing he disliked most about the position he was in... not only being on the dark side but it was the position of being Han Solo and Leia Organa’s only heir... their son. The constant travelling between planets due to his mother���s leadership in the resistance, his father’s constant journey through space with Chewie. He would never admit it but one of his favourite memories was being hugged by Chewie as a child when his father was too busy making some deal.

Chewie wasn’t a father figure in the slightest... but he was a friend. He was the one who was there when Kylo... well when Ben needed someone to hold onto. Kylo was different... he did not need someone to hold his hand, he held himself together. He could manage more than perfectly well on his own. He didn’t need anyone; not like anyone would want to be there for him anyway.

Kylo Ren hadn’t seen the wild girl in what must have been a few days at least. It was hard after all to keep track with no sun in sight. He convinced himself that after what happened in her cell, she would be glad to be rid of him permanently, but he couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t leave his mind.

As Kylo continued his practice run through on his trial course, he could tell that he wasn’t functioning at full capacity. His swift movements were near clunky. His breathing ragged instead of timed. He saw her scared eyes everywhere as lasers shot at him, he heard her scream from the cell with every cry that his lightsaber made. His lack of focus was made obvious as he got wounded on his leg in two different spots, falling to the ground. He Force slammed the shooting droid into the wall, making it smash into several pieces in which it could not return from.

The First Order believed that if you did not get severely hurt while training, then you weren’t learning anything, thus the lasers are set to full effect, there was no option for stun. Kylo had several marks across his body from his first few times training on this ship, he promised himself he would never get another, that he was better than some dumb droid with a blaster.

He let his dark locks fall in front of his face as he bowed his leg onto his knee, his wounded leg completely laid down. He was tired of losing, of never being good enough. He especially hated asking for help, though he knew better than trying to walk on the wounded leg, and he was not about to hop all the way to his chambers. He looked over to the window that led to the corridor as a stormtrooper was passing by, he Force controlled him into going to get him whatever could suffice as a crutch. He knew he would look weak in front of everyone else, but he had no choice. Unless... unless he Force controlled his leg to be able to walk without a limp. He had no idea if that would contribute to permanent damage but he wasn’t about to wait on the floor.

He Force controlled himself up, beginning to put weight onto the damaged leg, he winced; a bolt of pain ran up his spine. This was going to be exhausting. Slowly but surely he took one step at a time using the Force for his leg, he made it to the door. This is when it was going to matter. He took a deep breath in and began walking down the illuminated and polished hallway. He tried not to shiver as he felt beads of sweat rolling down his back, licking his dried lips, he always forgot to bring water, he shook his head and nearly crumbled to the floor. He gasped, he could not lose focus.

Leg... Walk... Leg... Walk... This was all he repeated in his mind, his mantra all the way to his room where he could finally be freed from the pressures of being Kylo Ren. Being the most frightening person aboard.

His room’s door slid open and was quickly shut behind him, he finally began hopping, he was alone, he didn’t care. He was utterly exhausted. Being wounded, and trying to use the Force for over ten minutes straight was terrible. Kylo collapsed onto his abnormally huge bed, he hated it here.

This was his last thought before sleep overcame him, drifting him away from everything he knew... everything he despised.

Screaming, he could not get away from it. It surrounded him, obliterating him and reviving him with a scared gasp of his own breath. He was surrounded by darkness, all he wanted was to see something, see someone. He grasped for anything around him but it was all empty... empty darkness. It was his worst fear. He truly was alone now. He tried to reach for his lightsaber but it was nowhere near, it was gone. He reached down into his boot for his blade, it was always there. No one knew of it... no one, except her. She stepped out of the shadows holding his blade. He nearly sighed in relief to see her, her hand out stretched for him to take his blade. He looked into her eyes, as he tried to reach for it, she did a sweeping motion, holding the blade tight and slicing right across his already permanent scar across his face. Another slice across his upper arm. He hissed and retreated a few steps. He rose his hand to take control of her but the Force wasn’t with him, he truly was alone. He couldn’t see the girl anymore, but then a heat rose from the bottom of his spine, slicing all the way up, he could feel a piece of his locks becoming cut from the motion.

He bolted up, awake finally, the remanent of his scream leaving his lips, his dried lips. He bit them as he felt the pain from his leg finally reach him. He flipped on the light switch next to his bed. With a low moan, they all flickered on, he could see that he had violently kicked all his blankets off his bed, at some point he must have thrown his pillow across the room. He could feel both the dried sweat on himself and the newly formed from the nightmare.

He ran his fingers across his face, following the trail of the scar from bottom to top, he had to get the girl off his mind. If staying away from her meant this for him, he had to go see her immediately. He slowly pressed himself off his mattress, a mixture of hopping and limping as he made his way to the shower to clear his mind of the horrors that terrorized him.

He breathed in the steam around him, it both calmed him and put him on his toes. The steam felt good on his skin, he could nearly relish in all the heat, but yet he always feared that there was something or someone just passed the fog that he could not see, whatever it was, it was after him. He shook the ideas away. Get cleaned up, find a way to get to the girl without limping in front of the whole First Order.

Kylo could not last in the unease much longer, he stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself he held himself on anything available as he maneuvered across his room to his radio. He knew how he was going to see her.

The commander wanted to pace, he needed to pace, he was not sure of what he was doing. In truth, he was never sure of anything he did, but he did it either through the pressures of his own rage and emotions, or pressures from Snoke. There was no time for the Kylo Ren to second guess or even doubt himself. He sat on his desk’s chair, without realizing it, he had slowly begun spinning himself around as he got lost in his thoughts. It wasn’t until he heard a knock at his door that his breath got caught on its way out.

“Com- eherm... come in” he tried to state in a commanding tone but he sounded so off, he rolled his eyes at himself. He was getting worse by the day.

His chamber doors hissed open and there stood, with furrowed brows and arms crossed, the girl. The stormtrooper practically threw her into the room. “Commander, shall I stay to make sure the scum doesn’t get out of line?”

“No need, you’re relieved of your duties here,” Kylo stated, barely batting an eye at the uniformed man. The girl did not stand awkwardly in his room, she stood with confidence. The same look of confidence that stated that she would kill him. He was glad, at least he thought so, he wasn’t quite sure why he liked her in that state. Perhaps it would make her keep her distance, maybe it would make him hate her, he needed something.

The doors hissed one last time as the stormtrooper exited the chambers.

Kylo sat more upright and placed his arms on either armrest. He tilted his head to the girl. He wanted to offer her to sit, it was near instinct, but he figured he should go against it. He had still yet to figure out her name or how she even got aboard his home, he knew absolutely nothing about her except for her opinion about the rebellion, which was a strange one due to not seeming to favour the dark side either. “Why are you here?” he began.

Her eyes became pointed at him, shifting her weight to one leg, “You ordered your goon to bring me here, didn’t you? I can’t believe I let you out. This is such an upgrade from the cell.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing and looking away.

Seriously? We were back to this? Kylo began to push himself up to stand but then second-guessed himself. He shouldn’t show that he was weak, she would definitely try to kill him then. He took a deep breath, “I don’t care what you think, I asked you a question. You can either help yourself and answer me or I could pull through on the threat I made to you back in the cell. I can get whatever I want.” His eyes locked on hers. He didn’t mean a word of it. He didn’t want to Force her into doing anything. In the cell he did not mean it as a threat, he meant it as reassurance. He didn’t want her to be scared of him, he wasn’t even sure if he would be able to use the Force on her with how drained he was.

She searched his eyes, perhaps she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. One thing Kylo had always been good at was his bluffing face, he did have an uncontrollable rage within him, but he had an even more stubborn side, he would not break.

Two words were all that were whispered in that room.

“Try me.”

[juliaisabellphoto]

My 2020 Albums of the Year

Never requested, always provided. Here are my favorites of 2020. Here’s the playlist. 

The Secret Sisters, Saturn Return

As soon as I saw “Water Witch, featuring Brandi Carlile” on this tracklist I knew that the Secret Sisters would be a favorite of 2020. In February, I was staying with a friend in Nashville and she mentioned them as a local favorite, and when I stopped at Grimey’s to shop for records I came upon a signed copy of “Saturn Return.” I had never heard the Secret Sisters before, but there is nobody I trust more to recommend music than this Nashville friend of mine, so I bought it. I made no mistake here: this record blew me away. The soft, soulful, lullaby of “Healer in the Sky” pulled me through the pain of the first month of quarantine and soothed me as the world was turned upside down. In reading more on the record, this seems to have been the point: they say, “this album is a reflection of us coming to terms with how to find our power in the face of an unfair world… our hope is that women can feel less alone in their journey through the modern world.” There is something in the caramel-thick sweetness of these sisters’ voices that makes a listener feel as though they’ve been bewitched into calm. When I think of this album, I think of the cross-country drive I took at the beginning of the pandemic to make my way home and the happy moments that can be found in darkness. No album touched my heart this year in the way that “Saturn Return” did. 

Taylor Swift, Folklore and Evermore

Taylor Swift… can even be said? Somehow, while we all sat on our couches in quarantine, this woman created not one but two musical masterpieces. She begins “the 1” by stating “I’m doin good, I’m on some new shit,” and that says a lot about the album as a whole. She created the 2020 we all wish we experienced: soft, sweet, and gentle. Listening to Folklore feels like visiting a cabin in the woods, with a fireplace well lit. Swift tells winding stories of love, hardship, and mystery and tenderly walks us through the forest of her imagination. This magical feeling was amplified by her release of The Long Pond Studio Sessions, a film in which Swift, Jack Antonoff, and Aaron Dessner finally play the album together for the first time after recording it entirely remotely. The setting matches the sound: they play in an album in the middle of the woods, cozy and hidden from the snow. Evermore cuts through the delicate ice of Folklore: it is the color to Folklore’s black and white. Swift combines the soft folk sound of “willow” with some of her country and Americana roots in “no body, no crime,” drawing us in once again. She includes Bon Iver singing in his lower register in Folklore and then in his falsetto in Evermore: two sides of the same magic coin. The work in these two albums is Swift’s strongest ever, and solidifies the fact that no modern artist can really reach her. 

Chris Stapleton, Starting Over 

Following a three-year hiatus, all lovers of southern rock deeply needed a Chris Stapleton album. In “Starting Over,” Stapleton yet again does what he does best: combines his unique whiskey-tinged growl with the best lyricism present in country music today. This record can’t be captured in any singular fashion, neither musically nor emotionally. The title track sets a high bar for the rest of the record with a reflection on re-remembering what really matters, a message certainly relevant for this turbulent year. Stapleton’s typical outlaw-country brand is present in full with “Devil Always Made Me Think Twice,” “Arkansas,” and “Hillbilly Blood,” but other songs take him in a completely new stylistic direction. “Maggie’s Song” takes on a very classic old-time country feel, as Stapleton weaves sweet and simple stories as he processes the loss of his pup. He harnesses the energy of the Chicks as he angrily lambasts the perpetrators of the 2017 mass shooting at Route 91. The song is a Stapleton-sponsored judgment day reckoning, including the cacophonic sound of a crowd in panic and the shrieks of a gospel choir. In contrast with this energetic high, Stapleton goes deep into his blues side by finally releasing “You Should Probably Leave,” a song he has been sitting on for six years. This one feels just right to sway around the kitchen to. With each listen to “Starting Over” I find new lyrics to write down and remember, new sounds to love. 

Bad Bunny, YHLQMDLG

Bad Bunny. Our unproblematic reggaeton prince. In the wake of his many popular features and his collaborative album with J Balvin, Bad Bunny makes it clear that it is time for Balvin to share the throne of popular reggaeton. He features the original reggaeton king Daddy Yankee in “La Santa,” paying tribute to the very classic reggaeton style before mixing it and transcending beyond the classics in the following tracks. “Yo Perreo Sola” is the album’s standout track, accompanied by my favorite music video of 2020. The song is an ode to gender equality and the destruction of the patriarchal norms contributing to gender-based violence. “Yo Perreo Sola,” meaning “I twerk alone,” sets the overarching theme of consent present throughout the song’s lyrics. In the video, Benito’s backdrop references the Argentinian-born “Ni Una Menos” movement, a now global movement against gender-based violence. As if this wasn’t enough to make you adore him, the video further extends its activism to the LGBTQ community, with Benito appearing in full drag, in his normal attire, and at some points held in chains by women. He makes a statement about sexuality and gender expression in the video, twerking solo. The other jawdropper track on YHLQMDLG is Safaera, a perfect display of Bad Bunny’s skill in expanding the scope of reggaeton as a genre. In the same thirty seconds of the song, he subtly samples both “Could You Be Loved” by Bob Marley and the Wailers and Missy Elliot’s “Get Ya Freak On” - a segment I just can’t get out of my head. Bad Bunny’s prowess on this record is rounded out with the aggressive and prideful “P FKN R.” What a masterpiece. 

Mac Miller, Circles 

A posthumous record that never should have been posthumous. A companion-piece to Mac’s 2018 record “Swimming,” Circles takes a similar tone, one of resilience through pain. The title track serves as a somber introduction, followed by the funk energy of “Complicated” and the GO:OD AM energy of “Blue World.” The song that really got to me, and many other fans of Mac, was “Good News.” It is the pinnacle of Mac’s musical insight and talent. The melody matches the melancholy of the track, as Mac sings of his desire for time and space. The melancholy is matched in “Everybody” with the lines about death feeling particularly haunting in the wake of Miller’s accidental overdose. Somehow, Miller wrote the perfect eulogy for himself prior to his passing, one that will live in the hearts of his fans forever. 

Kali Uchis, Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) ∞

I’m not quite sure what to call this record. If I just listened to “la luna enamorada,” a cover of a classic Cuban bolero, I would call it gorgeous. If I just listened to “fue mejor” featuring PARTYNEXTDOOR or “quiero sentirme bien,” I would call it sexy. If I just listened to “vaya con dios,” I would think she wrote the theme music for the next James Bond film. The bottom line of the record is Uchis’ absolute stunning use of her upper register. She hits notes that “Isolation” never would have foreshadowed, painting a dreamland for any listener. She slides back into the energy of her sophomore album in “telepatia,” but adds in moments of her new sound. She incorporates a slower reggaeton beat into no eres tu (soy yo), and dives into a heavier reggaeton sound in te pongo mal (prendelo.) My personal favorite of the record is “aqui yo mando!” with Rico Nasty: it is the perfect display of Uchis’ unique upper register combined with Rico’s trap style. Anyone passing this record up for another “Isolation” listen is missing out. 

FLETCHER, The S(ex) Tapes

This record has a story like no other, coming from a woman like no other. This EP was recorded while Fletcher quarantined with her ex-girlfriend, who also happened to film all of the music videos for it. It is this messiness that makes The S(ex) Tapes absolute magic. Fletcher’s own description of the name of the release explains the situation best:  “A sex tape is someone being captured in their most vulnerable, wildest, rawest form, and my ex has always captured me that way.” She captures all of the feelings of a breakup with someone you still love deeply, and the relationship relapse that comes with moving past those feelings. Fletcher’s special ability comes in representing these deeply painful experiences in an uplifting manner: this is a sexy pop EP meant to be danced to. Fletcher simultaneously validates all of the emotional tumult, but subtly nudges the listener toward blissful reckless abandon. It almost makes me wish I had a breakup to go through! The abrasive apathy of “Shh… Don’t Say It” and the flippant, angry vulnerability of “Bitter” are paired perfectly with Fletcher’s raw brand of distortion. In an interview with Nylon, Fletcher speaks to this: “Listen, I've done my fair share of just straight-up sad, crying in your bed music. I'm still going through shit, but I want to bop to it. We can still be emo and want to twerk at the same time.” Yes, Fletcher, we do. 

Halsey, Manic   

Prior to 2020, I wasn’t Halsey’s biggest fan. I wouldn’t have even called myself a fan. I just wasn’t that excited by her music. “I’m Not Mad” was the song that triggered a 180 for me. The heavy, dissonant kick of the drums and her raw, angry lyricism drew me in without hesitation. I suppose this was just the push I needed to fall in love with the rest of her music: the songs with similar bite, “Without Me” and “killing boys,” and the more raw side of the record in “You should be sad,” “929,” and “Graveyard.” Her vulnerability is so much of what makes this record perfect. The album fully made sense to me when I listened to her podcast feature on “Armchair Expert” with Dax Shepard. In it, she talks through the time period covered by the record and gives context to her powerful lyricism. “Manic” is a story of chasing someone she loved into drug-fueled oblivion, and then finally finding the power to leave. The album is brimming with this power, and I just can’t turn it off. 

HAIM, Women In Music Pt. III

HAIM is THE soft rock band of the modern era.Women In Music Pt. III, their most mature album yet, solidified this opinion for me in a way that I didn’t expect. There is so much to be said for this record: it is innovative and skilled, with the perfect balance of softness and hardness. Though the record is one of pain and trauma, you wouldn’t know it purely from its melodies. “Don’t Wanna” is a very classic HAIM pop rock number, and “The Steps” follows suit making frustration fun to dance to. Though one may not notice at first, in this record HAIM dives deeper than ever before. “Now I’m In It” does a phenomenal job of sonically representing the feeling of being completely and utterly overwhelmed. “I Know Alone” is a beautifully intimate rainy-day account of Danielle’s struggle with depression. Then comes “3AM” - a lighthearted song about a booty call with Thundercat-type bass and an R&B vibe - just in case you didn’t already know how much range these three sisters have. Everything about this record is filled with talent. 

Phoebe Bridgers, Punisher

Only Phoebe Bridgers could write a song about murdering a skinhead and fill it with nostalgia. “Garden Song,” the leading single preceding “Punisher,” foreshadowed a record that is just so very Phoebe: melancholy, vulnerable, and heart-wrenching. The eagerly awaited album certainly followed suit, with typical sad ballads “Halloween” and “Moon Song” played alongside more raucous, Better Oblivion Community Center-esque songs such as “Kyoto” and “ICU.” She goes bluegrass on “Graceland Too” with banjo, violin, and layered harmonies from boygenius collaborators Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker. In “Punisher,” Bridgers shares with us the wistful catharsis that she is so very talented at creating.

Noah Cyrus, THE END OF EVERYTHING 

I always underestimated Miley’s little sister, but here I am writing about her EP before I write about Miley’s in my end of the year roundup. Every piece in this record gave me chills: Cyrus’ lower register allows her to access a somber kind of ballad that I just can’t get enough of. The record starts off at a peak with the slow burn of “Ghost” and somehow manages to get even better with “I Got So High That I Saw Jesus.” This powerful song, even better in the live version where Miley joins her younger sister, builds into an almost gospel-like ode to the idea that everything will be okay. “July,” the single featuring Leon Bridges that pushed Cyrus into the national spotlight, stands as the most beautifully layered song of the EP. The soft guitar picking and choral sound complement Cyrus’ upper register. The whole record, extending through the closing title track, is a comforting, soft emotional analgesic for 2020. 

The Chicks, Gaslighter

This record is gorgeous. It is painful. The feelings Natalie Maines expresses in this record are feelings I have felt far too deeply in personal relationships, and they also are feelings everyone is feeling globally in 2020. “Gaslighter” is just straight up fun, a perfect extension of the Chicks’ energy found in “Goodbye Earl” and other older revenge numbers (but with an extra poppy Jack Antonoff twist this time.) “Tights On My Boat” is bitter, funny, and shows off Maines’ upper register with stripped guitar. “Sleep at Night” musically and lyrically embodies the pain of being betrayed. “Julianna Calm Down” is a stunning ballad of female resilience. “Texas Man” perfectly captures the bubbly feeling of moving on. “For Her” and “March March” fit in with the frustrated, betrayed, power-centered theme of the record in a very different way. The Chicks’ dualistic ability to discuss her ex-husband’s cheating alongside the band’s political views is what makes the record special: not only are we watching a woman try to move on and develop her personal strength, but we are also seeing this personal strength harnessed for political impact. They simultaneously denounce the abuse of power in both politics and relationships, while reclaiming that power for themselves in standing up for what they believe in. How very Chicks of them. 

Dua Lipa, Future Nostalgia

Dua motherfucking Lipa. This woman would have been the official owner of 2020 had we been able to dance to this record at bars and clubs. This was proven ten times over by the success of the album’s first single, “Don’t Start Now,” a song that is absolutely the MOST fun. Or so I thought… until I heard “Physical,” “Levitating,” and “Break My Heart.” What poor timing for such a phenomenal dance record, but at least she gave the people some great material for Tik Tok dances! All COVID-dance-related concerns aside, this is a really well done sophomore album for Dua Lipa. The funk elements of the album most clearly seen in “Levitating” elevate Dua’s brand of pop to a new level. The all gas no brakes nature of this dance-pop record works wonders for her - she knows what the people want from her, and she delivers. 

Megan Thee Stallion, Good News

THIS! RECORD! If WAP could be an album of the year, it would be, but it’s a standalone single and Megan Thee Stallion proceeded to release the next best thing. The explosion of Megan Thee Stallion has been a pleasure to watch in 2020, with both WAP and Savage leaving the charge. With an artist like her, it’s easy to get lost in the smash hits and ignore the prolific nature of her work. “Good News” is an immaculate rap album, brimming with sass and defiant bad bitch energy. “Shots Fired” kicks off the album with a Biggie sample and a diss to the man who shot her in the foot earlier in the year, personally my favorite track of the record. Other highlights of the record include “Don’t Stop” with a Young Thug feature, “Body” which is now a Tik Tok staple, and “What’s New.” Perhaps the most impressive work Megan does on “Good News” is “Girls in the Hood,” a rework of Eazy-E’s Boyz-N-The-Hood. She inverts the classic misogyny of the original song by emphasizing her control over men like Eazy-E in an indignant assertion of female power. This embodies Megan Thee Stallion’s essence: busting in on a male industry and making her presence known.

Rico Nasty, Nightmare Vacation

Nobody does it like Rico Nasty, and I’m convinced nobody ever will. I saw a New York Times headline titled “Can the Mainstream Catch Up to Rico Nasty?” the other day and I think the answer is a firm no. Rico is abrasive, rude, and outside the box in the absolute best way. Need an album to slap in the car when you’re feeling like a bad bitch? This. is. it. The record kicks off with “Candy,” a song with a wild beat and the iconic chorus line “Call me crazy, but you can never call me broke.” Following is a Don Toliver and Gucci Mane feature in “Don’t Like Me,” a song that truly should have hit the mainstream by now. She gets back to her signature scream-rap in “STFU” and “OHFR.” “OHFR” is the confident standout of the album, along with the reworked re-release of “Smack a Bitch,” making it clear that Rico Nasty is not a woman to be fucked with. In “Back and Forth” with Amine, Rico steps into Amine’s “Limbo” style and does it well. The record’s second single “Own It” is a more classic club banger that unfortunately didn’t get to see the dark of night in any clubs this year. Even if the mainstream never catches up to Rico Nasty, I’ll be following along with her self-labelled “sugar trap.” 

Ariana Grande, Positions

I mean, duh. Ariana just doesn’t miss. She surprised everyone with this album’s release in Fall 2020, displaying the bliss of her relationship with later-confirmed fiance. She goes dirtier than usual in the sex-centered “34+35” and “nasty,” rounding the record out with the Craig David-reminiscent “positions.” Ariana allows herself to lust for someone and even love for them in these three, but defaults to her brimming self-confidence in “just like magic” and “west side.” The album is more R&B than pop at times, with the peak of this style visible in the groove of “my hair” and the Mariah Carey ballad-like nature of “pov.” Each album, Grande shifts just a little bit, keeping us attached: “Sweetener”’s cotton-candy pop, the savage pop-trap of “thank u, next,” and the R&B conclusion of the spectrum with Positions. 

Miley Cyrus, Plastic Hearts 

This year I anticipated no record more than I did “Plastic Hearts.” Its leading single, “Midnight Sky,” described by Pitchfork as a “cocaine-dusted disco track,” channels Stevie Nicks’ eighties rock-pop era in the absolute best way. Apparently this opinion was even picked up by Stevie herself, as the two collaborated on a mash-up of “Midnight Sky” and Stevie’s “Edge of Seventeen” (the excitement from which nearly led to my passing away, by the way.) Cyrus’ voice is in the perfect place on this record, with “Plastic Hearts” emphasizing her rasp and making me want to spin around a room. She dips into the pop realm in “Prisoner” with Dua Lipa, a song that Lipa clearly influences with an unforgettably sexy music video. Every song is different on this record: “Gimme What I Want” channels the grinding rock sound of Nine Inch Nails, “Bad Karma” allows Joan Jett’s punchy style to run the show, and she slips on the shoes of Billy Idol in their collaboration, Night Crawling. Somehow, Miley manages to wear the shoes well, and 80s copycat record or not, I can’t stop listening. “Never Be Me” is where she shines most deeply, baring her soul, the complicated nature of her past few years’ journey, and her knowledge of who she is and always will be for the world to hear. I’m not sure if I’m blinded to the album’s flaws by my absolute and complete love for everything about Miley’s current persona, but I am a huge fan. 

Glass Animals, Dreamland

The sound of this album is such a blissful respite! Glass Animals gives us the fun and funky techno-pop that they always do, but dive into personal lyricism in a way that they never have before. Many of the songs actually have a storyline (an intentionally rare feat for Dave Bayley, first broken with the incredible “Agnes” on their last album.) This record explores trauma and pain in “Domestic Bliss” and “It’s All So Incredibly Loud,” Bayley using the soft sides of his voice to express pained desperation. The boisterous energy of the past two records is not forgotten in Dreamland’s intimacy, however: “Hot Sugar,” “Tokyo Drifting,” and “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” do the trick. “Space Ghost Coast To Coast” is the most intriguing song on the record: at first listen, I had absolutely no idea what Dave was discussing and assumed it was just his typical neuroscience-inspired ear-candy. Upon a deeper dive, the song addresses the factors that encouraged Dave’s childhood friend to bring a gun to school. He disguises a discussion of the risk factors involved in school shootings within his flowery, figurative linguistic excellence. This duality of blissful melody and solemn subject matter is the magic of Glass Animals. 

Empress Of, I’m Your Empress Of 

This album is an emotional electro-pop masterpiece. This record meditates on the feelings felt in the wake of a relationship’s end. She begins the album with a quote from her mother about the reality and value of struggle, then launching into a synth-filled storm of missing someone. “Love Is A Drug” is the album’s next fun dance track, addressing the addictive quality of touch after you lose someone you love and embodying the urgency of the feeling. She takes a more somber tone with the influence of Jim-E Stack in “U Give It Up,” incorporating quotes from her mother about the difficulty of womanhood and reminiscing on love lost. In “Should’ve,” the post-relationship regret is palpable in her vocal tone and production, and in “Maybe This Time” she contemplates this pain. In “Give Me Another Chance,” her emotions swing the other way, with a bouncing dance beat and pleading vocals. The album concludes with the heartfelt and pain-filled “Hold Me Like Water” and the dissonant “Awful,” leaving the listener to meditate on the mood swings of a broken relationship. 

Tame Impala, The Slow Rush 

This album came out so early in 2020 that it already feels like a vintage piece of music. Perhaps that was the point. Although “The Slow Rush” had a hard time living up to Kevin Parker��s last epic masterpiece “Currents,” it was the fix many fans like myself needed after five years without an LP. “Borderline,” the single that allowed anticipation of the album to build, stands out as one of the most essentially Parker tracks of the record. He introduces a little Toro y Moi style funk in “Is It True,” and highlights his voice more than usual in “Lost In Yesterday.” “Posthumous Forgiveness” builds in the wonderfully dissonant fashion that fans learned to love through “Eventually.” The bass track on “Glimmer” is so good that I never even noticed it had nearly no lyrics. This record is not groundbreaking by any standards in the way that “Currents” was, but it is intentionally jubilant and energetic in a way that still feels good. Even if he doesn’t shatter any expectations in “The Slow Rush,” Tame Impala’s tracklist still makes the perfect sunset companion. 

Joji, Nectar

Joji’s “Nectar” is just that: sweet R&B nectar, from the minute the first track plays. Joji’s work here is not in the individual tracks, but in the sonic experience he creates with the album as a whole. This is not an album to pick out singles from: it is a full cinematic mood adjustment. Maybe it’s the weed I smoked when I first listened, but the record feels like a wonderful progression of gentle yet rhythmic R&B songs. The transition from the soft and contemplative “MODUS” to the more upbeat trap-infused “Tick Tock” to the full R&B ballad “Daylight” featuring Diplo raises the listener’s energy gradually to a crescendo. “Run” is a gorgeous and sad confessional of disappointment, and “Sanctuary” follows as a soft and uplifting analgesic to that pain. “Pretty Boy” and “777” mark the more upbeat section of the record, filled with Joji’s accounts of living far too fast. The tracks of this record all bleed into each other seamlessly, mixing pain and confidence in an emotional rollercoaster.

Amine, Limbo

My journey to being an Amine fan started with “Caroline,” ended with “Heebiejeebies,” and started back up again when he found depth in “ONEPOINTFIVE.” His 2020 release is exactly why I came around to his music yet again. The record is soulful and fun, with the flute and cocky lyrics in “Woodlawn” and the funky beat and Young Thug feature of “Compensating.” The two songs I absolutely can’t stop listening to however, are “Can’t Decide” and “Becky.” “Can’t Decide” highlights Amine’s singing voice and dips away from rap and trap into the more traditional R&B realm. “Becky” is an intimate account of the difficulties involved with interracial dating, both in public and in the family realm. The two sides of the album, one emphasizing rhythm and immaculate production, and the other lyricism and emotion, are found in these two songs. The punchy “Pressure In My Palms” (featuring slowthai and Vince Staples) and “Riri” round out the record’s light side. In “Limbo,” Amine finds the perfect balance. 

Fleet Foxes, Shore

This album is a wave of calm. Robin Pecknold’s soothing voice is exactly what we needed more of this year. Pitchfork described his mission as “turning anxiety into euphoria,” and that is how this record feels. Each song is dynamic and filled with what makes Fleet Foxes so special. There is a choral quality to the vocals of “Shore,” as always, adding to the calm aura of the record. “A Long Way Past The Past” takes the listener on a what feels like a long walk filled with serious conversation. “Going-to-the-Sun Road,” a song that takes its name from the famous cliffside road through Glacier National Park, oozes sunshine in its Tame Impala-Bon Iver crossover sound. “Cradling Mother, Cradling Woman,” truly feels like being cradled in sound. Fleet Foxes has a knack for beginning songs by hitting the listener with a wall of sound, and that is so perfectly represented in this track. This is a seriously beautiful album. 

Cam, The Otherside

Cam’s voice is irresistible. She showed her talent for sharing painful ballads in her breakthrough single “Burning House,” and in “The Otherside” she digs deeper. She writes this record in a period of change, and captures this change and dissonance in the nostalgia of “Redwood Tree.” She teamed up with Avicii for the title track before he passed away, and it shows. His signature building melodies and guitar breaks are clear, and they go perfectly with the range of Cam’s voice. She truly shows her range in this track and this record in general, from the highs in “The Otherside” and the lows of “Changes.” “Changes” is another standout of the album, co-written by Harry Styles. This record is a gorgeous account of outgrowing love and outgrowing people after the deep bliss that you felt with them in the past. “Till There’s Nothing Left” and “Classic” are the big love songs of the record, one that melts you and one that makes you want to dance in a field of flowers. The sisterly confessional “Diane” pulls Cam back to her country roots. She ends the record with what made her famous: a beautiful, sad ballad backed only by piano. Her unique vocals are on full display as the record concludes, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more. 

Omar Apollo, Apolonio

Omar Apollo had his breakthrough in this record. His work spans languages and genres in a big way in “Apolonio.” “Kamikaze” and “Staybacik” stick to his typical R&B style, better produced than it ever has been. “Dos Uno Nueve (219)” goes a completely different direction, a Mexican corrido track featuring Yellow Room Music, honoring the Latinx musical styles that he expressed admiration for. Apollo also explores his sexuality in this album, fluidly discussing his bisexuality in “Kamikaze” and “I’m Amazing” in an exploratory manner. The whole album is generally quite exploratory, a quality that makes me even more excited for the work that is to come from Apollo. 

Also worth mentioning: 

Diplo, Diplo Presents Thomas Wesley: Snake Oil

Thundercat, It Is What It Is

Sylvan Esso, Free Love

Lauv, ~how i’m feeling~

Niall Horan, Heartbreak Weather 

J Balvin, Colores 

Kelsea Ballerini, kelsea 

Dominic Fike, What Could Possibly Go Wrong