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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 19, part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

The Man Comes Around

Over at the Wen Indoctrination Tower, which seems to exist just to torture Lan Wangji with stair climbing, Lan Wangji is climbing the stairs. Too bad his cultivation level is too low to be able to just jump up. At least this time his leg isn't broken.

This is the first vengeful stair-climb in the show, but not the last. (Parallel gifset here).

The Wen guards are stationed all the way at the pinnacle of this tower to guard...what? Why are they not at the bottom of the stairs? What is this location for, actually? This is further up the stairs than the scenes with the indoctrination lectures. Anyway, it's been three months since Wen Chao threw Wei Wuxian into the burial mounds, so naturally these guards are talking about that exact thing as Lan Wangji approaches.

Lan Wangji knocks them all down with a blast from his guqin. Did you know his guqin is named Wangji, by the way? It is. A guy who is that lazy about naming his quqin maybe shouldn't feel so superior to a guy who named his sword "whatever."

(I'm suddenly remembering a plush lamb I had as a child, whose eyes were orange, that I named "orange eyes.") (I, however, was three. And I had a lot of plush lambs. Little ones. Grown-ups found it hilarious to give them to me.) (Native speakers of English can probably guess what OP's real name is. Hint: it rhymes with Canary.) (Everybody else: there is a kid's rhyming song called Mary Had A Little Lamb. OP's name is Mary.)

Anyhoo, after Lan Wangji is finally finished with his dramatic entrance, Jiang Cheng comes flying in from wherever he's been hovering for the past 20 minutes of stair time. A bunch of Lan sidekicks also flood into the frame from wherever they were hiding during the wide shots of LWJ on the staircase.

In case you hope that CQL Lan Wangji is as much of a top (offscreen) as MZDS Lan Wangji is (on the page), here's a gif for you.

(more after the cut)

He uses the patented Lan string attack to choke this guard. Lan Wangji doesn't have to hold a guqin string in his hands to choke someone with it. He doesn't even have to tighten it, judging by how absurdly not-tight this string is.

Or maybe this guy is choking on the chin strap of his helmet. This is exactly how OP's son reacts when OP sticks a bike helmet on him. (Note: it's GOOD that they are following choking safety protocols on set. Very good. However, they could have just left the string out and pretended, and it would look better, in this instance)

The Wen guard tells Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng about the whole "thrown into the burial mounds" thing. Team Let's Find Wei Wuxian is not happy to hear this.

A Vengeful Ghost

Meanwhile, in some Wen office somewhere? Where the hell is this? Yiling, we get an ominous shot of the rooftops where Wei Wuxian is lurking and then we see Wang Lingjiao trying to sleep and having a nightmare.

Wang Lingjiao has gone to sleep with a full face of makeup on instead of washing her face before bed. She has forgotten the important maxim, Go To Sleep Pretty, Wake Up Zitty.

She leaps out of bed to go cling to Wen Chao and freak out about Wei Wuxian's ghost. Wen Chao is trying to read the sports section and has clearly had enough of this crap. This has presumably been going on for a little while now.

Wang Lingjiao is in a new outfit, which is...pajamas? It has the feel of a 1930's French peignoir set, and it's much more softly colored than her usual bright red-purple combo. If this is her pajamas is it weird that her day clothes are a lot more aggressively sexy-looking than her nightgown? A freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets.

Wen Chao rants about the Sunshot Campaign and talks some smack about Wen Qing, and then leaves to go to the bar and watch the game with Wen Zhuliu. After he leaves Wang Lingjiao freaks out for a bit and then looks at the notice he was reading.

The notice basically says that the Sunshot Campaign is kicking their ass. She should be proud for inspiring the name of the campaign with that kite-shooting bullshit she made up at Lotus Pier. Before slaughtering everyone.

No Matter What You Do, I Only Want To Be With You

Back at the Indoctrination Tower, Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are having feelings about Wei Wuxian. Jiang Chang does all the talking but Lan Wangji's thoughts are louder because a sad violin is playing Wangxian while they talk.

Jiang Cheng tells Lan Wangji about their meetup plan and says he thought WWX had dumped him to go find Lan Wangji in Lanling. Lan Wangji telepathically indicates that this didn’t happen. This means two things: 1. Lan Wangji has been hanging out in Lanling, where Jiang Yanli has been hanging out, so maybe they have bonded over the past 3 months and 2. This is the first time Jiang Cheng has talked to Lan Wangji since Wei Wuxian disappeared.

Much as my fic-loving heart would like to believe these two spent three months on the road together looking for Wei Wuxian, in fact they are both important high-level fighters in an active military campaign, and Lan Wangji was busy taking back the Cloud Recesses while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were having elective surgery. They probably both were assigned to the "Indoctrination Bureau" mission and this is the first chance they've had to talk about Wei Wuxian.

Is it heartbreaking that, while Wei Wuxian was helplessly getting his ass beat because he'd sacrificed his golden core for Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng believed Wei Wuxian had abandoned him for Lan Wangji? Yes. Yes it is.

For some reason Jiang Cheng is hesitant to believe that Wei Wuxian really was thrown into the Burial Mounds. I mean, I understand not wanting to believe Wei Wuxian is dead, but given that Wen Chao is the dude who oversaw the massacre of all of the people at Lotus Pier, including kids, why would Jiang Cheng think his guards are wrong? Maybe he just feels like Wei Wuxian is invincible, since so far he kinda has been.

The Sword is Mightier Than Not Having a Sword

While they've been chatting, the Lan disciples have found their swords. One disciple is holding Bichen (LWJ's sword), Sandu (JC's sword), and OP consults wiki Suihua (Jin Zixuan's sword). Another disciple is holding Subian (WWX's sword).

Jiang Cheng grabs Sandu while the Lan disciples, who apparently know their gongzi’s heart, offer Wei Wuxian's sword to Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji takes Subian (Bichen: What am I, chopped watercress?) and immediately tries to draw it. Like you don't do. It's sealed itself, which apparently means that it's upset. It's unclear if it's upset because Wei Wuxian is dead or if it just misses him, however.

Lan Wangji definitely misses him, and wonders, out loud inside his own head, where Wei Wuxian is. Um, he's in the Burial Mounds, dude, they just told you. Well, I guess he's actually in Yiling proper at this point, haunting Wang Lingjiao as he promised her he would.

Twa Corbies

The scene shifts to Qinghe, where there are about 12 dead bodies lying around, which in this show means that there are really a few hundred. In fact, per Jiang Yanli's statement "nothing can be seen but corpses covering the plains." The camera can't see most of them, is all.

Wen Xu's head is hanging in the doorway, and the Jins talk about how Nie Mingjue killed him, cutting his head off with just one swing. Is this foreshadowing anything, like perhaps someone else's head being cut off by Baxia in just one swing? Nope, definitely not.

A couple of crows are perched on a body, totally not eating it, but Jin Zixuan gallantly zaps them with a talisman to make them fly away anyway. It might be noteworthy that nobody used to use talismans but gradually more and more people are using them - particularly people who have spent time with Wei Wuxian.

With mony a lock of his golden hair-o, we’ll theek our nest when it grows bare-o

Asshole cousin Jin Zixun says “scavenger rights,” so Jin Zixuan puts him in charge of collecting all the bodies.

Since OP just finished watching fur-collar-happy Nirvana in Fire, these crows look to me like they are wearing luxurious fur collars. Where OP lives, crows are not this fancy.

A Romantic Corpse-Filled Interlude

Disaster het Jin Zixuan goes to help Jiang Yanli get out of the carriage but she rejects his hand just like he rejected hers back in Gusu.

Jiang Yanli is extremely shocked when she sees Wen Xu's severed head, and turns away in horror, preferring to calmly rest her eyes on dozens of crow-pecked corpses.

Jin Zixuan tries to comfort her and she tells him she'll be going now, thanks for the hospitality. He tries to say that he has to personally deliver her to a representative of the patriarchy one of her brothers, but then one of her brothers shows up.

Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng arrive, having presumably flown there from Qishan. They show that they are flying by blowing a fan on the ground and then jumping off of a box, which is better than the effects we were subjected to earlier in the episode.

Jiang Cheng rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Jiang Yanli, while Lan Wangji rushes over to have an emotional reunion with Wen Xu’s severed head. Jin Zixuan kind of spoils it for him by talking about Wei Wuxian's absence while Lan Wangji is trying to have a moment.

The whole time Jin Zixuan is talking to him, Lan Wangji appears to be gazing into the middle distance but in fact he is staring at Wen Xu's severed head. This is the guy who led the burning of Cloud Recesses, killed a bunch of disciples, and personally broke Lan Wangji's leg. Lan Wangji stares at his head for more than a full minute before glancing away.

Jiang Yanli hasn't seen Jiang Cheng since they were in Wen Qing's clinic, and she is happy he's recovered. When she asks about Wei Wuxian he gives her the bad news in the classic Jiang fashion, which is to say nothing, but look stricken until your interlocutor figures out that something is horribly wrong, but not precisely what.

Four Angry Men

Inside the fortress, Nie Mingjue is slapping the table and saying, this bad boy can hold so much resentment and vengeance. They're having a mini war council and we're getting a better sense of Nie Mingjue's anger management problem. Note for those who don't get the gif reference: this is a The Godfather joke, not a sex joke, but it can be both, if you like.

We're also getting a little more info about Baxia, who seems to be eager to go fight even without anyone wielding it. (Her? Him? Them? do swords have gender? I don't know). Well done, person below the camera frame whose job is to rattle Baxia in a menacing manner.

They've got a giant model of the battle targets, which looks like it was carved out of real rock (I mean, as much as any of the rocks on this show look like real rocks) and has its own table and everything, decorated in Nie colors. Where was this before they took Qinghe back? Has Nie Mingjue been traveling with it?

Anyway, I'm assuming Nie Huaisang made it, because it's pretty nice. Hopefully they will keep it around for tabletop gaming after the war is over.

Jiang Cheng is upset but is using his anger management mantra to help control his temper while Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji talk with Nie Mingjue.

Lan Wangji talks by leaning forward meaningfully, mostly not by using any words, but he asks for a battle assignment and Jiang Cheng immediately joins in. They both want to go find Wei Wuxian.

Nie Mingjue says Yiling is too difficult of a target, but Lan Wangji puts on his determined face, which is apparently very persuasive.

After Team Find Wei Wuxian leaves, Nie Mingjue asks Jin Zixuan to hang back so he can ask him how Meng Yao is doing. This is the first time he finds out that his ex didn't go to Lanling. Jin Zixuan tries to delicately remind him that Dad's got, like, SO many bastard children, they really don't have space for all of them. Nie Mingjue dismisses him immediately and abruptly.

Nie Mingjue might invite the straights to his party but he isn't interested in actually socializing with them.

Unconditional Soup is Only for A-Xian

Jiang Cheng can't sleep, and takes some time, now, to be sad about Wei Wuxian. Presumably he spent the prior 3 months being mad, not sad, because he really thought he just buggered off without saying anything for all that time. Which is sort of fair, but sort of not. One thing about these two bros is that for as close as they have been and as much as they love each other, their mutual understanding has some big, messy gaps.

Fortunately while he is feeling sad, Jiang Cheng does not try to draw Subian from its sheath, because wouldn't THAT be awkward.

Jiang Yanli can't sleep either, and comes to sit with him. Jiang Cheng feels bad that she's wearing herself out with worry and she says "As your sister, I have nothing to do but to worry about you." Jiang Yanli isn't one to complain but she doesn't like being inactive or helpless. In Lanling she was far from the war, but now that she's in Qinghe she'll make herself useful by tending the wounded, and later she'll help Jiang Cheng shoulder his responsibilities as he takes over the Jiang clan.

At the moment, however, all she can do is fret and make soup. As she gives Jiang Cheng a bowlful she reminds him that he absolutely has to rescue their brother who has, according to his captors, been reduced to bone dust.

With all the impossible shit that Jiang Cheng is expected to achieve - and in many instances, does achieve - he is absolutely the embodiment of the Jiang Clan's motto. Fuck his father for disrespecting him because he hadn't figured out how to do everything by the age of 16.

Definitely Not Chilling in Yiling

Back in Yiling, Wen Chao is hearing the news that the Qishan Indoctrination Bureau has fallen and that he's being called back to Nightless City. Wen Chao says he shouldn't need to go back because his dad has a new right-hand man. That new right-hand man, we will eventually learn, is Meng Yao. Wang Lingjiao, meanwhile, is hiding under the bed covers and deciding it's time to dump Wen Chao.

She locks the door and goes to pull out her jewelry box, which is locked and hidden under the bed. Maybe this is Wen Chao's jewelry box, because she acts kind of squirrely about opening it. Upon opening the jewelry box, she doesn't find jewelry but a pair of bloody fake eyeballs staring at her. She screams and freaks out and then the wind picks up and we hear the sound of a flute, playing the "I'm here to fuck your shit up" tune that Wei Wuxian likes.

Wang Lingjiao runs to the door and pulls down the protection talisman that's pasted above it, and pastes it directly to her chest instead, which is, we will learn in the next episode, the worst idea she could possibly have at this point.

Then she uses a poking stick to go flip the jewelry box open and finds it's full of ugly-ass jewelry again, plus an improbable number of weird round paper-mache biscuits that have been painted gold. None of this jewelry looks anything like the exquisite accessories people wear in this show, which means this stash was put together by the practical effects department, not by the costume department.

Anyway, Wang Lingjiao apparently thinks she can sell this fakeass stuff for a good price, so more power to her. But then we get a short glimpse of the menacing eyeballs again, this time on the floor, having moved out of the box and brought their little blood pool with them. Screeching ensues.

Next episode: Lady in Red!

Soundtrack: Twa Corbies, by Steeleye Span

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #jiang cheng #wang lingjiao #jin zixuan

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writingbeary · 3 years

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Kingdom - Reborn (pt.2)

Minyoung’s Outfit

Note:

Texts placed inside brackets are Kingdom’s show subtitles

Italicized texts are in English

Texts that are block quoted are interview cuts

────────── ♔ ──────────

During the shoot before Round 2, the time when they got the experts’ evaluation for Round 1, ATEEZ revealed the reason behind why the chose iKON as the group they wanted to exchange songs with.

"Everyone wanted to do iKON sunbaenims' songs. San did his monthly evaluation with Rhythm Ta and Minyoung's video for her highschool admission was Bling Bling. It's like we're fated to do this." Hongjoong explained moving his hands to point towards the two metioned people.

Seonghwa nodded adding in his own experience "I really like iKON sunbaenim that I even performed it at my school event."

"That's true! There's even videos of it." Hongjoong chuckled while Seonghwa shifted uncomfortably knowing the editors would probably add in the said video

"Minyoung too. She was formerly a YG trainee, so she must have had to dance to at least one song?" Jongho turned to the girl who was uncharacteristically quiet

"Me? I was a trainee there when they competed in Mix and Match. Ah but we don’t really practice Korean songs a lot there. Although, it’s like a mentality of trainees? You want to learn all the seniors’ songs in the company in case you have to perform it suddenly." Minyoung looked as if she was hiding herself cringing at her trainee days, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"So what? You literally are a member of their fanclub! I’m sure you know their songs by heart." Wooyoung pointed out making the rest of the members laugh. This information prompted the production staff behind the camera to ask if she really was a member of the iKON’s fanclub.

"I am, I also attended their concert in Sydney before. I also have membership for SF9 sunbaenim and BTOB sunbaenim. Oh but I like everyone!" Minyoung quickly added afraid she'll get misunderstood

[Photo evidences that Minyoung loves K-pop!] Photos of Minyoung’s merchandise and being in concerts or fan meetings were shown after edit.

"Ah right! But your class performed with Killing Me during the festival." Yunho exclaimed, clapping as he remembered the performance

"Oppa! Don't!" Minyoung tried to shush him but she knew it was too late. She turned to the staff worried "You're probably going to dig up videos right?"

[Of course! Here it is!]

As if teasing the girl, the editors played a clip of said performance. At this point, Minyoung knows there's no escaping what she calls her dark past.

(Group Interview)

The staff asked the group if they have tried contacting someone other groups with Hongjoong answering that he will try to do that after the show ends.

“When we started filming for Kingdom, I decided to be close with Kim Jinhwan-sunbaenim.” Wooyoung confessed making the other members laugh as he did declare that he will do whatever it takes to become close with him.

“Why do you sound so excited?” San asked laughing

“I feel like I don’t want people to know that I know you when you act like this oppa.” Minyoung mumbled evoking laughter from everyone including Wooyoung.

“What do you mean by that? You’re also like this with the other seniors!” Wooyoung grinned teasing the girl, Minyoung stuck out her tongue playfully at him.

“Even before filming Kingdom, the only groups that I don’t have anyone I personally know is iKON-sunbaenim and BTOB-sunbaenim. I’ll work hard to change that and be a successful fan.” Minyoung answered smiling shyly

“You do know Chanwoo-sunbaenim though? Through Chani-sunbaenim right?” Yunho poked the girl chuckling

“Ah right. We haven’t really talked but when it’s possible, he said he’ll schedule for our group to have a meal together with iKON-sunbaenim.” Minyoung nodded making the members smile in excitement

“Are you thinking of making it a win-win scenario with iKON?” the staff asked and with no hesitation the whole of ATEEZ answered yes.

“I think it’ll be great if we could place 1st and 2nd with iKON-sunbaenim. That’s my wish.” Hongjoong answered as the rest of the members nodded.

“People complimented our narrative in round one and that’s because they could tell that we were pirates. When performing Rhythm Ta, we need an arrangement and choreography from which people could tell exactly what we’re going for.” Hongjoong explained his ideas to the group as they conceptualize the stage for the round.

“Let’s our heads together and come up with it.” Wooyoung stated as he looked towards the other members.

“Let’s really put our heads together” Jongho joked as Hongjoong asked them to say their cheer. “Say, 9 makes 1 king.”

“9 makes 1 king! Fighting!”

(Preparation for the Stage)

“In the original song, ‘What’s up? Hurry up and nod your head.’ this is the part that I liked. It’s catchy.” Hongjoong said to the camera as he worked on the song. “I left that part in verse 1 and verse 2 but I changed the second part a bit to incorporate a Latin vibe.”

“Another thing we agreed upon is to have another movie reference for this performance. We borrowed ideas from ‘Pirates of the Carribean’ for our Round 1 performance and for this stage, we will borrow the theme from the drama called ‘Money Heist’.”

“So we’re becoming 8 pirates. It’ll be a prequel to <Wonderland>.”

(Phone call with Minyoung)

Hongjoong called Minyoung while he was arranging Rhythm Ta into their own color and was on the phone with her as the cameras were recording. Hongjoong: Minyoung-ah, so I was thinking.. Minyoung: Oh no. What is it? *nervous tone* More high notes? Oppa stop thinking. That’s bad for my heart. *laughs* Hongjoong: Instead of high notes, I'd like you to rap.

Hongjoong laughed hearing Minyoung groan over the line and there was a pause before Minyoung spoke again.

Minyoung: Oppa. Don’t do this to me. Save me. Please. I'll do the high notes or stunts Hongjoong: We have to showcase everything Minyoung-ah. You're a rapper. You already showed Atiny that you can do it. Minyoung: I knew it. Giving in to Atiny’s request for that cover was bad *sighs before letting out a laugh in resignation* Understood. I'll do it. I have to do it. I did say I'll follow your decisions all throughout and I don’t go back on my words. Hongjoong: Also, you know that we’ll be adding narration right? Minyoung: Ah no. I’ll go along with your rap request but I won’t do the narration. Hongjoong: Why? It’s in English and you’re our native English speaker. Minyoung: It’s because I’ll most likely laugh if I do it besides don’t you think having the leader do it would paint a better picture? Like you’re leading ATEEZ into a revolution. Hongjoong: *convinced* Oh you have a point there. Alright. Thanks bun. Come record your parts tomorrow and bring Seonghwa with you. Minyoung: Mhm. I'll come with Seonghwa-oppa. Fighting Joong-oppa! I’m hanging up. Bye bye~

“Let’s do it from the start.” The choregrapher called out as he counted out loud while the members dance. San laughing after they finished a part.

[Main dancer losing his mind]

Nodding, the choreographer clapped and called out “Okay let’s try the second part”

"Let me catch my breath first." San asked the choreographer

“We’re not going to jump. We’re not using our steps.” as they run through their dance routine only to find out the choreographer is doing the footwork while all the members laughed

"It's what we've been doing anyway. It's just the base footwork." the choreographer commented laughing when he saw the members' faces "Just roll your feet"

"I feel like I'm getting conned." Wooyoung laughed as he too was trying to catch a breath

Minyoung laughed as if she is losing her mind. "Why is this so difficult? This rolling is insane." before singing the song Rollin’ as she attempted the move again.

[Another one who is losing her mind.]

“I feel like we’ll all be sore after this stage.” Wooyoung remarked as the others laughed knowing that it’s going to happen.

“Where are we?” San asked as they walked into an establishment

“We’re here to practice for Kingdom.” Hongjoong answered as he explained what they need to do. They all agreed that it is important to try the action with one’s own body and Wooyoung pointed them to a place where they could practice those movements. The group went to a BB gun shooting place and played around.

“Ah. But won’t Minyoung have an advantage?” San grinned ready to tease the girl

“Why? What about me?” Minyoung asked tilting her head a bit.

“You’re small. You can hide behind almost everything here.” San got ready to block the girl’s slap laughing

“That would also mean Yunho-oppa is a great target though. Besides I can’t win if I stay cooped up in one place.” Minyoung shook her head slapping San’s arm “But rest assured. I’ll make sure to hunt for you oppa.”

“Everyone, aim for Yeosang.” Hongjoong reminded everyone of their goal today

“Okay.” “So it’s a 7 v 1 then.”

[It looks like they came here to have fun]

“But why are we aiming at Yeosang-oppa?” Minyoung asked as they shoot Yeosang who tried expressing how being shot by bullets felt like.

“<Rhythm Ta> is the title of the song right? We need to get the rhythm and enjoy the stage to the fullest. I think people will like it if we could perform while laughing and having fun like we did today” Hongjoong explained to everyone after the day of playing

The group went for their rehearsals with the props for a final time, everyone taking their places. San and Minyoung were together as they have to lead the last group dance together.

"What are you doing?" Minyoung could be heard asking San in the background as he was talking to the camera, then feeling embarrassed with his actions.

As Minyoung was practicing the dance for her solo part, she limped slightly when trying to change positions, the staff asked her if she's doing okay. "I am! I don't think it'll affect my performance during the show, I just have my knee wrapped as extra protection."

"She hurt herself during one of our rehearsals. It's nothing serious but to be safe, she was told not to strain too much." San explained for Minyoung who returned back to practicing her routine

[The choreography as expected is intense for all the members but she continues to practice despite the injury]

Noticing the camera focusing on her, she shared what was on her mind "More than this, I'm more nervous rapping in front of the seniors live. I’m worried that people wouldn’t take to well to me rapping and I'm especially scared that iKON sunbaenim might not like it. But I have to do it, I just need to do my part well since everyone else would surely kill theirs."

[The pressure must be heavy for the 22-year old girl to face but she continues on with a smile]

As the staff asked if they could win, San confidently answered “Win? If we do what we have to do properly, if we show what we got, I think it’s possible.”

“There was some pressure but I think we could prepare it with energy solely because we ranked high.” Jongho confessed during the group interviews.

“Right. I feel like we could prepare for the stage and just purely enjoy the process because the pressure isn’t as bad as before.” Minyoung said chiming in

“We were preparing for the next round energetically because we want to achieve another good result this round.” Jongho concluded

“I’m most curious about iKON-sunbaenim’s reactions” Hongjoong piped in making Yunho nod adding in “If we’re acknowledged by them, we already succeded a bit.”

“As we won first place in the previous round, we should show a performance fit for that title. That’s what we kept on thinking.” Hongjoong smiled as the other members nodded in agreement.

“A performance fit for the winners?” San asked

“We should meet their expectations.” Hongjoong nodded

“Shouldn’t we go above their expectations?” Minyoung asked making the whole group laugh as they end the interview.

"There were a lot of new things we tried for this performance. San doing b-boying and Minyoung would have more active parts in the choreography. You also have to look forward to her rap too." Hongjoong answered confidently smiling during the interview for Round 2.

When the music played ATEEZ’s version of Rhythm Ta, Minyoung felt adrenaline pump through her body as she felt herself suddenly no longer nervous, just excited.

Everyone was surprised to hear her voice whispering their opening and even more when she rapped the pre-verse after Seonghwa's lines.

BTOB Eunkwang: She also raps? She’s insane! Didn’t she do the high note last round? BTOB Minhyuk: Right. Isn’t she a vocal?

SF9 Chani: She’s going all out, huh. *chuckle*

Minyoung took center position for the first chorus as she sang “igeon gunyang noraeniggan rhythm ta” the cameras closing in, focused on her facial expressions before panning out to their group dance.

Stray Kids Han: *excited shout* Minyoung-ah! iKON Yunhyeong: She’s an all-rounder. SF9 Dawon: What’s scary is her facial expressions. How is she this good? It’s completely different from her usual aura SF9 Inseong: She’s an actress. But I agree, her facial expressions are fascinating. All of them do but she’s standing out in this performance.

As Hongjoong finished the Money Heist speech, Minyoung and Jongho sang together for the bridge with Minyoung supporting his high note before the dance booster where San lead the dance. For the ending, Minyoung once again took center position before doing a high kick in time for the last beat and smirking at the camera as the music fades to the intro of their Round 1 performance.

THE BOYZ Hyunjae: Minyoung is crazy. Pick one thing to be good at! Goodness.

SF9 Chani: *claps, standing up* SF9 Inseong: Minyoung-ie looked impressive during that last bit

Stray Kids Han: That's my friend right there! *laughs* Stray Kids Changbin: *laughs* You sound like you’re a proud parents

iKON DK: They killed the stage. Like how we made our own from their song, they also created their own Rhythm Ta.

BTOB Eunkwang: They really made it their song. It was totally ATEEZ’ song.

ATEEZ bowed and thanked the backup dancers and the staff after their performance, all smiling as they all thought they did perfectly.

Minyoung now feeling the high from their performance settle down a bit, finally felt the pain in her knee. Yunho noticing that’s she is having a hard time walking, crouched down in front of her. "Let's go and no, it's either you get on my back or I carry you over my shoulder Young-ah." knowing she'd refuse.

Sighing, she went on his back getting carried to the backstage to get their microphones taken out and treat Minyoung.

"Did you hurt it again?" San asked approaching the two with Jongho beside him, still trying to catch his breath.

"Same old. I just feel a numb pain but nothing too serious." Minyoung smiled trying to reassure the members that managed to gather around her and their manager who gave her a cold pack for her knee.

"If it's too much, sit out the rest of the filming-" Hongjoong started to say but the girl quickly rejected the idea

"No! I want to watch the rest of the stages too." Minyoung pouted trying to win over their leader with aegyo

Laughing, Wooyoung patted Minyoung's back lightly. "Okay case closed. Minyoung is staying for the performances. Hongjoong-hyung can never resist Minyoung when she does that."

"Fine. But you have to get that checked after the shoot and you have to tell us immediately if it gets too painful." Hongjoong sighed knowing how stubborn Minyoung could get when she wants something.

(BTOB’s stage)

“Okay. Another stage that I’m looking forward to. When Stray Kids picked BTOB-sunbaenim, I was already thinking of what songs could match well with them.” Minyoung stated as she made herself comfortable in her seat, playing with the wheeled chair a bit.

“Since <God’s Menu> was already performed last round, they probably won’t pick that.” Seonghwa laughed as he watched as the girl roll around her chair using her good leg

“What if it was <Hellevator> or <Double Knot>? That would be really cool!” Minyoung exclaimed clapping her hands “They could go for a complete 180 of the song. Imagine that.”

Hongjoong laughed at her excitement as Wooyoung grinned “Yeosang-ah, you and Jongho should probably get your ears ready if she squeals.”

“A bit too late for that warning.” Jongho laughed as Minyoung lightly punched his arm in protest

As BTOB started their stage, the camera was focused on the floor label ‘Stage 1’. Minyoung pointed at the screen. “It looks like a backstage..Omo! Are they going to perform <Back Door>?”

“Oh! <Back Door> <Back Door> <Back Door> <Back Door>” Yunho exclaimed excitedly with Wooyoung when Eunkwang pretended to warm up his vocals for their performance

“This is totally rock. The style actually suits Changsub-sunbaenim a bit.” Minyoung noted as Changsub opened the song with his verse “How does he go high that easily?”

Yeosang looked at the girl chuckling “You also go up that high. You and Jongho do that easily.” to which Minyoung deadpanned “Maybe Jongho but for me, I die whenever there’s a high note in my part.” at this answer all members of ATEEZ shook their heads, disagreeing with her but decided not to say anything and just focus on the performance.

“Wow! Crazy!” Wooyoung had his mouth open during the high note while Seonghwa could be visibly scene having the time of his life at the side

“Omo!” Minyoung let out a light squeal when Minhyuk came into the screen in his robe. Seonghwa suddenly switching from a fanboy mode to a protective mode and trying to block Minyoung’s view.

“What’s with everyone showing off their physique? We cannot win that!” Wooyoung laughed

“Peniel-sunbaenim’s rap is a bit…provocative?” Minyoung mumbled as she nod along to the music. “I guess they changed the theme quite a bit.”

“Oh! They’re finally going up the stage.” Jongho pointed out as the group walked out to what looks like a concert stage

“I want to go there too! I’ll be a backup dancer for them and just vibe up the stage.” Minyoung pointed at the screen copying the movements of the backup dancers

“Omo. Here it goes. Here it goes. BTOB-sunbaenim’s harmonies” Minyoung clapped excitedly as both Changsub and Eunkwang harmonize.

The rest of the stage was spent by the whole of ATEEZ just being the fans that they are, raising their hands up and down just like the dancers on stage. Most of them had their mouths wide-open as they’re amazed by the whole performance brought by BTOB until Minhyuk ripped his shirt off prompting Minyoung’s surprised gasp and Seonghwa’s frantic hand going to cover Minyoung’s eyes.

Wooyoung laughed at the two of them. “They’re at it again.” Seonghwa trying to cover Minyoung’s view while Minyoung trying to remove Seonghwa’s hand while laughing.

(Stray Kids’ stage)

“<I’ll be your Man>? This is song is so high though! I wonder how they changed it up. Also, Stray Kids’ openings for both of these rounds sounds so..” Minyoung paused trying to think of the word “you know the feeling you get during horror movies when they suddenly turn down the music?”

“Eerie? Mysterious? Creepy?” Hongjoong listed words that the girl could be thinking of.

“Eerie. That one. It feels so eerie but like you’re anticipating something but the general tone is just so solemn or something.” Minyoung commented as she watched Seungmin’s part in the opening.

“Han Jisung aye~” Minyoung smiled as Jisung did vocal parts right after Seungmin.

“So is this the part of Kingdom where the rapper sings and vocals rap?” Hongjoong chuckled glancing at Minyoung “You rapped today when you’re usually vocals then Han sings when he usually raps.”

“Minhyuk-sunbaenim did it first on this show though and Jisung has been doing vocals parts in their songs too.” Minyoung shook her head as she pointed it out to her leader

“You should give her more parts is what I’m hearing right now.” Jongho laughed, shaking his head before returning back his focus on the performance.

“it’s a difficult song. This one.” Yunho pointed out looking forward to the stage

When the screen changed, Minyoung got startled and jumped a bit in her seat as Changbin’s rap section started. “Changbin-sunbaenim’s parts always sounds so heavy. Oh but I meant it in a good way.”

Minyoung gasped with her eyes wide when Changbin fell from the platform. “Omo!” Wooyoung who was sat at the end grinned, proud of his friend. “My friend.” making Yunho laugh at him as Hongjoong praises Changbin for his rap.

“The kid disappeared!” Minyoung exclaimed making Yeosang chuckle at her. “Are they like dead? Is that why the dancers are wearing white? What is happening?”

“He’s gone!” “Where did he go?” both Wooyoung and Yunho gasped and spoke at the same time

As soon as Han took center and sang the chorus, Minyoung clapped excitedly in her seat. “Go get it! Let’s go!” then during Felix’s parts Minyoung couldn’t help but point at the screen shouting his name “Felix! Yes, go make use of your deep voice and dig deep underground.” as all of ATEEZ let out a sound in awe.

“Wait why are there axes and spears? Omo! They’re dragging him..I did say to dig deep but..” Minyoung gasped in realization “Omo! Is he like a devil?”

Noticing the backup dancers, Minyoung mumbled under her breath “So are all backup dancers in JYP this fit? It’s like they all have toned bodies.” Yeosang who was seating next to her let out a laugh, getting the attention of the rest of the members as he waved them off indicating he’ll tell them later.

“Is that blood? Are they going to summon Felix?!” Minyoung incredibly invested at the performance would have scooted closer to the screen if not for Jongho who was holding her chair back. “What is this? Did they sacrifice the kid? Or are they trying to save the kid?”

If Minyoung was excited during the first part of the performance, imagine that being doubled when both Seungmin and Han did the high notes. She was practically beaming, proud of her friends her attention on them before noticing the heavy rapping of Changbin in the background when Wooyoung pointed it out.

“I got goosebumps” Seonghwa confessed as Wooyoung exclaimed “Changbin, he’s super cool!”

“Our I.N-ie!” Minyoung raised her hands up high when Jeongin did the last bit of the chorus. “Oh! I’ve got goosebumps.” Jongho noted as the performance ended.

“So did they like sacrifice their blood to summon Felix and then save the baby?” Minyoung asked still a bit lost

“I think so. The statue seems to represent the kid in the beginning then they gave it a heart to save him.” Hongjoong nodded clapping for the last performance of the day.

“So did they save the kid? Or was the kid a ghost? I need answers!” Minyoung pouted as Yeosang chuckled and patted her back. “I believe it’ll be up to the interpretation of the audience.”

Outtake:

After everyone has performed, Minyoung laughed to herself gaining the attention of the rest of the members. “What’s funny?” Hongjoong asked her

"Should I just take it off too? Everyone ripped their shirts off and stuff." Minyoung asked patting her jacket, shocking the other members making them jump from their seat and yell out "No!" in unison. Minyoung laughed surprised at how loud they got.

"Why would you want to do that?" Seonghwa asked frowning a bit, trying to think up a reason to discourage whatever idea is on her mind.

"I don't want to hear that from you and San-oppa. You exhibitionists." Minyoung countered jokingly making Jongho and Wooyoung laugh. "It's not like I'll actually go topless that’ll be real bad. Maybe wear something sexy. I've already tried it during <HALA HALA> and <THANXX>...kind of? anyway, so it's not like it's anything new."

"After all this time? Why?" Yeosang asked curiously as there were lots of time when fan would question her stage outfits. She would always get something that doesn’t show that much skin, take her stage outfit for today. She has layers of clothing which worked in favor for the group since they won’t need to be on the look-out too much for ill-intentioned people. After that incident during their <Wave> promotions, everyone took turns on sticking by Minyoung’s side to avoid another incident.

"I mean everyone's been ripping their shirts off or showing of their physique and by everyone I mean including the backup dancers. They look good by the way.” Minyoung reasoned, taking her phone out already looking at potential outfits.

Jongho laughed as he patted Minyoung's back "Your image. Try to protect your image, you fangirl." making Minyoung laugh shrugging

"A bit too late for that Jongho. I'm pretty sure Atiny already knows that I have my fangirl moments. Besides, when could I ever enjoy myself like this other than off stage? I’ve had my fun with hair colors so maybe I could have fun with outfits as well."

"Why not her do what she wants? Better to agree and decide with her rather than her surprising us about it." Yeosang shrugged, chuckling when Minyoung raised her thumbs up exclaiming "You know me too well oppa"

"If you're comfortable with it...it’s not like we can completely stop you from doing what you want " Hongjoong sighed in resignation, patting Minyoung's head. He would have ruffled her hair if not for the thousand pins on your hair.

"Young lady, I am going to make sure it isn't scandalous. You better let me see the outfit first." Seonghwa wagged a finger trying to look threatening but only making Minyoung laugh and agree. "Like I said, you and San-oppa are the last ones I'll want to hear those words from. Well especially San-oppa. His clothes keep getting lesser and lesser." cracking up everyone

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

That’s it for the Reborn Round! I’m not sure if it showed but I had a lot of fun writing this round as everyone did a great job and this was the stage I looked forward to the most.

I’m a bit busy this week so I cannot finish my drafted posts but I’ll post as soon as they’re ready. ♡♡♡

Thank you for reading!

-Mimi

#kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez 9th member #ateez au #ateez oc #ateez #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop imagines #ateez minyoung #park minyoung #minyoung masterlist #writing beary

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the-killer-queenie · 3 years

Text

Good Impression (Tommi Lalli x reader)

Inspired by this video and by suggestions of a couple of anons, I presented you all this Tommi/reader fic

Words: 1438

English is not my native language so sorry for the mistakes/typos you might found.

Note: for the sake of the story, let’s pretend Tommi lives in Helsinki and not in Oulu.

Hope y'all enjoy it!☺️

Tommi’s parents have invited you to spend the weekend at their house since it was going to be Tommi’s grandma's birthday and there would be a family reunion to celebrate it back in Oulu.

You hadn’t really ever left Helsinki or its surroundings, your work and studies tying you to the capital, so you were pretty excited to have this mini road trip all the way up to Tommi’s natal city and to get to know his family. It wasn’t exactly a “meet the parents” situation, since you’ve already met them one time when they were in the city visiting Tommi. So you weren’t extremely nervous although the usual bad scenarios popped up in your mind from time to time.

The night before leaving, you were sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, still trying to pack your bag. Tommi was on his phone, already laying in bed, since you planned on leaving early in the morning.

“Babe, which blouse should I take, this green one or the black one?” you asked, showing both options to him.

“I’d much prefer you without one,” Tommi said without looking up from his phone.

“Always the tease,” you said as you decided on one of them and put it on your bag.

“Remember it’s only a weekend though and it won’t be that fancy of an event…”

“I know, but I just want to make sure I leave a good impression,” you replied as you closed your bag, deciding you already had everything you’ll need for the weekend.

Having finished packing, you crawled into bed next to Tommi, who left his phone on the nightstand and wrapped his arm around you.

“There’s no way you won’t be leaving nothing but a good impression, prinsessa” Tommi whispered in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty space next to you and to sounds coming from the kitchen. Someone was not wasting any time. After having some quick breakfast Tommi had prepared and loading your bags in the trunk of the car, you were ready to leave.

“Ready kulta?” Tommi asked as he put his sunglasses on.

“Ready Tommi-bear.” you answered as you opened the music app on your phone. You have spent the week prior crafting a playlist to blast through the road trip. It had some of yours and Tommi’s favourite songs plus some duet worthy songs, since you weren’t oblivious of the fact that Tommi had a beautiful voice. So of course you didn’t waste any chance you got of hearing it.

“Ok, here we go,” he said as you pressed shuffle on the playlist.

The first song that came through the car’s speakers was Dancing Queen by ABBA. Tommi chuckled. “I thought you made the playlist, not Aleksi,” he ironically said, commenting on how the dark haired DJ plays that song on concerts, soundchecks and pretty much whenever he gets the chance.

“Hey, it’s a good song.” you said and started singing along. Tommi smiled and eventually joined in.

After a couple of duets passed by, you suddenly shut up, leaving Tommi singing on his own. He didn’t realise it wasn’t a duet anymore until a couple of minutes later, when he turned his sight from the road to you, who were softly smiling at him.

“What?” Tommi asked, and you could swear he slightly blushed.

“You should sing more often, you know?”

“Oh shut up,”

“I really mean it! Maybe I should text Niko or Joel…”

You told him how his voice was really lovely and soothing but he just brushed it off, although you could see a little smirk growing on his face.

The ride went really well and smoothly. You both chatted about everything and nothing, music playing on the back as you made sure to get some chill songs besides the karaoke worthy ones.

Since Tommi had made the road countless times, mostly because of Blind Channel gigs, he recounted some funny stories with the boys as some places you were driving though made him remember about them. Of course, the anecdotes were nothing but pure Blind Channel chaos which had you laughing up to the point of crying.

Speaking of Blind Channel, you had thrown into the mix one or two of their songs so when they came into the shuffle, you headbanged like there wasn’t a tomorrow and randomly played air drums, trying to copy Tommi’s moves when on stage, which made him laugh out loud.

“Maybe I could give you some drum lessons when we go back,” he said while tapping his fingers to the beat of the song.

You bit your lip. The image of you sitting on his lap while giving you drum lessons presented you with thousands of thoughts that you decided to keep for yourself, at least until you got back to your apartment back in Helsinki.

As you were getting closer to Oulu, you asked Tommi who he thought would be at his grandma’s party. Tommi started listing an incredible number of people, describing them and telling how they were related. Basically giving you a sort of brief of his family. But as the list grew, your nerves too started to rise up.

You passed through a sign telling you were now entering Oulu and you became quieter and started mindlessly tapping your foot. Tommi noticed the sudden change of the atmosphere.

“Hey, you’re gonna make a hole on the car’s floor if you keep with the tapping,” he said, trying to bring up the lively spirit again.

You giggle and stop with the tapping, but remained silent while looking at the passing scenery through the window.

“Nervous?” Tommi asked.

“Yeah, I guess... I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited to meet your family but at the same time there’s this voice in my head sort of panicking and questioning ``what if they don’t like me?´´” you confessed to him.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to cut ties with them if they don’t like you,” he replied with a straight face.

You gave Tommi a playful punch on his arm.

“No, but in all seriousness, I can’t think of a simple reason they won’t like you. You know, I haven’t told you this but my parents didn’t do anything but praise you after meeting you. And I’m sure they already passed on their stamp of approval to the rest of the family,” he reassured you.

Tommi’s words comforted you and made you relax a little. You turned up the music and tried to enjoy the last couple of kilometres you got left of the trip.

You finally arrived at Tommi’s parents house, who were waiting for you on the porch. They greeted you both and asked how the trip was. But before you could answer, an old lady came out of the house, calling Tommi’s name. It was his grandmother. You recognized her from some family photos Tommi had shown you ahead of the trip. She made her way up to where you were all standing and you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of the height difference between her and Tommi when she went for a hug.

“So you’re the young lady that stole my Tommi,” the woman said as she turned around to look at you. You gulped, not sure if she was being serious or just messing with you. She must have seen the panic in your face as she clarified with a laugh, “I’m only joking. For what I see, he’s actually the lucky one,” she said with a warm smile. You blushed at the woman’s words and thanked her while allowing yourself to loosen up a little.

Tommi’s mum invited you to come into the house, since she had prepared something for both of you to eat after the long journey. As Tommi took out your bags from the car, the old lady intertwined her arm with yours and slowly began walking towards the house.

“Now, we have many things to chat about that grandson of mine. Like, have you noticed his nose…” she started saying, lowering her voice as if it were a confidence only you were allowed to hear.

“Ei, mummo, not again…” Tommi groaned, interrupting her while escorting both of you on the way into the house.

You just giggled and continued to listen to the old lady’s complaints of his grandson's features. You might disagree with her on that but as you start approaching the house, you started to feel at ease and though to yourself that it will be a fun weekend.

Ei, mummo = No, grandma (thanks duolingo)

yeah, sorry if the end sucked but I really wanted to make the reference to the q&a video.

#tommi lalli #tommi lalli x reader #blind channel #anto (apparently) writes?

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jangmi-latte · 4 years

Note

Hey, its the anon who requested the singer scenario. I did not expect that you used musicals, especially I recognized "Defying Gravity" from Wicked and "Million Dreams" from The Greatest Showman. Because of it, I really wanted the same scenario but with Kamil, Vil, and Malleus with the fem reader who sings but this time, is singing with various languages from her world. Love your writing by the way.

❞ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞 ❝

➻ content: a singing latte

➻ warnings: none

➻ comments: welcome back to my cafe, dear anonie!

࿐. . . KALIM AL ASIM (ft. Pippin the bird) ; French

You hummed to yourself as you softly swayed, sitting on the sides of the fountain that was located in the middle of Scarabia. You were waiting for Kalim, who was taking quite a while with whatever Jamil called him for. There was nothing entirely important to do today. Classes were over and you just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend.

He brought you to his dorm so that he could hear you sing again. He loves your voice and would often tell other students about your talent. Most of Scarabia already knows about your gift at this point. Right now, Kalim just wanted to spend time with you. Maybe ride a magic carpet, away from studies and just lay on your lap while you sing.

"Where is he?" you whispered to yourself as you looked at the entrance of the dorm. You sighed as you played with the waters. Suddenly, claws gently gripped/landed on your shoulders along with a gush of wind that made your hair fly around, "There you are, Pippin," you greeted Kalim's rose-breasted cockatoo who rubbed against your cheek while chirping.

Pippin flew down to your lap, looking up at you with a small tilt of her head before she nudged your chest, "What? You want me to sing?" you giggled and gently rubbed her wings. As if she understood, Pippin bobbed her head and chirped, "If you say so."

"J’avais rêvé d’une autre vie... Quand ma vie passait comme un rêve... J’étais prête à toutes les folies...À toutes les passions qui se lèvent. [I dreamed of another life...When my life passed like a dream... I was ready for all madness... To all the passions that arise.]” you softly sang. A beautiful song from your homeland that you and your mother would always sing.

The words fluently fell from your lips, your hands continued to grace on Pippin's feathers. The bird closed her eyes and comfortably perched herself on your lap.

“J’étais si jeune où est le mal? Je voulais rire, aimer et vivre....[I was so young where is the harm? I wanted to laugh, love and live...]”

Flying down, on his magic carpet, Kalim has just ‘finished’ his duties and more or less relieved Jamil from following him around. ‘I’m just going to go to y/n!’ He told the vice dorm leader. Ah, what a relief. No, he doesn’t trust Kalim, he trusts you and he’ll cherish the small taste of freedom he’ll receive from being away from the male.

Anyways, Kalim flew around Scarabia and once he saw you, he was in the middle of flying down before he heard your melodic voice. Just a few feet above you, he laid on his stomach and leaned on his hands. He couldn’t understand the words coming out from your lips but your soft tune was enough to leave him in awe.

“Danser jusqu'à la fin du bal...Ivre du bonheur d'être libre...[Dance until the end of the ball,...Drunk with the happiness of being free...]” you continued to serenade. Pippin felt the wind softly sway around, opening her eyes, she looked up and squawked at the sight of Kalim. You hummed and followed Pippin’s direction of sight, “Oh! Kalim!” you gleamed. His magic carpet slowly and carefully moved down to you, “That was amazing, y/n!” he complimented.

“I didn’t understand anything but the way you sang it made me want to hear it again!” he laughed and jumped down from his carpet. Pippin flew up and landed on his shoulder as he sat beside you on the fountain, “I don’t mind singing it for you,” you smiled. He laid on your lap, your hands raking through his locks.

“Please do!”

࿐. . . VIL SCHOENHEIT (ft. Rook Hunt) ; Filipino

The dance studio in Pomefiore was emptied, one by one the students left, leaving you, Rook, and Vil in the room. It was training, as Vil said. It somehow went smoothly, and the dorm leader was obviously relieved it was finally over. After all, you can’t avoid having reckless first years.

The model was fixing his make up as he sat on one of the chairs, Rook was leaning by the window— probably observing the others —and you, you were sat on the floor, scanning through songs on your phone. Your earphones were plugged into ears as your soft hums was the only thing heard in the studio.

“Psst.”

“Hm?”

Vil looked up from his compact mirror with an arched eyebrow, looking at Rook in confusion. The vice dorm head moved his head as if he was pointing to your direction, “Listen,” he smirked. The confused blond looked at your form that remained focused on scanning through your phone.

“Nung nakita kita sa tagpuan ni Bathala...May kinang sa mata na di maintindihan..[When I saw you in God’s place...There’s a glint in your eyes that I couldn’t understand..]” you softly sang along with the song that echoed in your ears.

Both males did not understand the song you were singing. For sure, you have caught Vil’s attention once again. He knew about your beautiful voice, he said it was another asset that was fit for Pomefiore. He silently adored how smoothly the words left your lips, in a form of a beautiful melody.

Despite the language barrier, hearing you sing always relieves him for the stress he tries to avoid at all times. He was absentmindedly staring at you and Rook wouldn’t want to ruin the prefect’s good mood.

“Tumingin kung saan sinubukan kong lumisan...At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako’y ituro mo..[Looking where I tried to leave...and the world stopped moving...when you pointed at me..]” The song had a sad tune to it. You didn’t look sad at all, but rather, you looked so calm and at peace as the words effortlessly yet gracefully moved along your tongue. That belt you did at the end surprised both males.

You were truly talented.

“At hindi ka lumayo... Nung ako yung sumusuko...At nagbago ang mundo.. Nung ako'y pinaglaban mo.....At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako'y pinili mo...Siya ang panalangin ko...[And you did not go far...when I was the one to give up...and the world changed..when you fought for me...and the world stopped moving...when you chose me..He is my prayer...].”

“What a beautiful voix [voice], y/n!” Rook clapped which caught your attention immediately, looking at the reflection of both blonds with red cheeks, “D-Did I sing too loud?” you embarrassingly scratched your cheek, “I didn’t mind it at all,” Vil commented and closed his compact mirror and sending you a charming smile.

“I love it when you sing.”

࿐. . . MALLEUS DRACONIA (ft. Lilia Vanrouge) ; Japanese

“y/n.”

You looked over at your senior from over your shoulder. By senior, you meant the old fae that was looking at his phone with a peculiar glint in his eyes. He was probably too engrossed from whatever he was watching, “Yes, senior Lilia?” “I told thou to just address me as Lilia, dear,” he responded before laying back.

He took off the plug of his earphones from his phone, “Malleus told me about a song that he known from Ignihyde’s dorm leader,” Lilia gestured over to the fae that descended down the stairs, “That’s right. Somehow, I heard you singing it from your room,” the younger male admitted as he approached you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before turning your chair over to face them, “What song?” you asked and Lilia gave you his phone, “I guess 'twere this one. That's what Idia sent me.” You took the phone from him and listened to the song. That’s right, it was one of your favorite songs from your homeland. You smiled and read the lyrics, “I know this song. It was from my homeland indeed.” You hummed the tune.

“Can you sing it?”

You looked up at your boyfriend in surprise, “You want me to sing it?” you repeated, “Of course, child of man. I want to hear you sing again,” he said, giving you his own smile, “I would love to hark a native speaker like thou sing a song from thy homeland,” Lilia added.

With a shy closed lip smile, you nodded and glanced back at the phone, “Tsui ni toki wa kita...Kinou made wa...Joshou no joshou de..[Finally, the time has come... Everything up 'til yesterday was a preface of prologue..]” you easily followed along with the song.

Malleus has took a seat next to Lilia, his eyes admiringly stared at you. Lilia was fascinated at how your lips gracefully moved along with the words. A language so foreign yet beautifully sung by a singer. Though, they may not understand, it was soothing enough to hear something new every once and a while.

“Tobashi yomi de ii kara...Koko kara ga boku da yo...Keiken to chishiki to...Kabi no haekakatta...Yuuki wo motte...Imada katsute nai SUPIIDO de..Kimi no moto e DAIBU wo..[It's fine if you just skimming it through...Because it's my turn from now on...My experience and my knowledge...And all the courage I had let start to mildew...At an unprecedented speed..I will dive right into you]”

Another thing Malleus adored was your smile. How your lips would curve up as you sung out the lyrics, you were enjoying yourself and Malleus couldn’t have asked for more. He was pleased, “Madoromi no naka de...Namanurui KOORA ni...Koko de nai dokoka wo.. Yume mita yo...Kyoushitsu no..Mado no soto ni...Densha ni yurare... Hakobareru asa ni...[ And when I dozed off into a lukewarm can of cola, I dreamed of a world that so far from here. Searching outside of the classroom window, or in a morning that's brought from the rocking train..]”

That was quite a fast structure of words and you gracefully pulled it off. Just as the song trailed off into a musical, your laughter was heard as you gave the song back to Lilia, “It’s a beautiful song, but I must admit I don’t memorize all of it.” You stood up. “And you sung it beautifully,” Malleus said and wrapped an arm around your waist, “You can sing us to sleep with how soothing your voice is.”

“Are thou calling me out and changing mine lullabies for her songs, Malleus?” Lilia pouted, “Worry not, dear, thy voice is amazing.” He smiled at you while you giggled in return.

“Thank you.”

“I still prefer her voice over yours Lilia..”

“Hey!”

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master-sass-blast · 4 years

Text

Winter Stay-cation.

*insert pithy quip here*

Summary: A massive squall hits New York City. The snow, combined with a deep freeze, brings the city that never sleeps to a standstill once the police issue travel bans. Fortunately, you and Piotr know how to keep yourselves entertained during your impromptu stay-cation.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

Rating: G for fluff.

Word Count: 3.4k.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: The movie quote from Day Five is from Alfred Hitchcock’s “Rear Window.”

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“—continuing into the middle of next week, if not longer. Expect heavy snowfall and temperatures below freezing, with windchill taking things below zero over the weekend.”

“Good grief.” You shake your head as you watch the weather report on the morning news. “It doesn’t get that cold when I fly full speed.”

Piotr, your husband, hands you a cup of coffee and shrugs. “January is ugly month.”

You smirk into your mug. “Bet this doesn’t compare to Siberian winters.”

“Not really,” he admits with a chuckle.

“The Chief of New York City’s Fire Department has issued a statement reminding residents to be careful when using their fireplaces and to monitor children and pets.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you quip, “Don’t use fireworks as kindling, we got it.”

Piotr snorts.

“In addition, the Police Department has issued a travel advisory in light of the predicted precipitation and sub-zero temperatures. All none-essential travel is restricted until the cold snap passes.”

“Groovy. Tell that to half the city.”

Piotr grins, shakes his head again, then turns the TV off. “Looks like we will have to keep ourselves occupied here this week.”

You cast a disparaging glance outside –where the snow is already up to Piotr’s knees—then say, “Like we were going anywhere else.”

***

Day One

There’s an upside to when the “deep freeze” hits. It’s already winter break, meaning there’s no coordinating classes, figuring out how to pick up students that don’t live at the mansion, or having to get up at the balls-ugly hours of the early morning in the stupid, frigid cold.

The two of you wake up at your leisure, around nine o’clock. You laze around in bed for a bit, snuggling and chatting and smooching, then head downstairs for breakfast. You wind up setting up shop at the dining room table, catching up on grading and filling out end of the semester report cards.

“Can you check these for me?” Piotr asks, handing you a stack of essays from his art classes. “I already made content-based marks; I am just not sure about English grammar.”

“Fun fact: most native English speakers aren’t sure about their grammar, either,” you joke with a smirk.

Piotr snorts, then checks his computer clock before standing. “Is about lunchtime. I was thinking soup and sandwiches?”

You nod. “Sounds tasty.”

“Would you like anything in particular?”

“Surprise me.” You make a contented hum when Piotr leans over the table to kiss you, then smile as you watch him head to the kitchen.

You really are the world’s luckiest woman (a sentiment you feel even more keenly when he comes back with a fresh cup of hot cider for you).

***

Day Two

“We should clean.”

The two of you are sitting on the couch. Your laptops sit on the coffee table, displaying the completed efforts of uploading grades to the online gradebook that the school uses. Two mugs that once contained coffee sit next to either laptop.

You look up at Piotr. You’re tucked against his side, head leaning on his shoulder while his fingers trace designs on the sleeve of your sweater (which is technically his sweater, but that’s neither here nor there). “Huh?”

“We should clean,” he repeats as he scrubs at his face with his free hand. “House could use it.”

You crane your neck to look over his shoulder. “We don’t really have that many dirty dishes.”

Piotr snorts, then raises an eyebrow at you. “When was last time we vacuumed? Or deep cleaned bathrooms? Or washed windows?”

“We can see out the windows just fine!”

Piotr grins and shakes his head. He stands, holding his hand out to you. “Come on, myshka. Clean home, clean mind.”

“I’ll have you know that my mind is nothing but dirty, and I’m offended that you would dare insinuate otherwise.”

Piotr laughs and helps you up. “We can start upstairs and work our way down.”

***

Cleaning with Piotr isn’t so bad. He carries his fair share of the workload, does things to their proper doneness, and is a firm supporter of blasting tunes while cleaning.

“Take! Me! On!” You bounce up and down in time with the beat while you clean the sliding glass doors in your bedroom that lead out to the balcony. “I’ll… be… gone! In a day or two!”

Behind you, Piotr laughs. He’s hauling out a trashbag from the bathroom –no doubt filled with the sheer amount of crumpled paper towels it takes to get the place sanitary again. “I see you are enjoying yourself.”

“Absolutely not. I’m suffering endlessly. I’m going to die any minute now.” And then, to prove you point, you flop to the floor dramatically (taking care to use your powers to cushion your landing).

Piotr lets out a choked gasp, then clutches at his chest. “You keep scared me!”

You look up at him and laugh. “You know I can catch myself! You’ve seen me do that before!”

“Changes nothing!” He lets out a ragged breath, hand still pressed over his heart. “I could have heart attack.”

You giggle, then lift yourself off the floor with a swirl of wind. You land nimbly on your toes before him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Aw, now who’s being dramatic?”

“I fail to see how concern for your well-being is dramatic!”

You suppress a grin, opting to pop up on the balls of your feet and kiss him instead. “I’m very sorry I scared you, baby.”

“Is okay.” He kisses you gently, then gazes down at you with a rueful smile on his lips. “What am I going to do with you, myshka?”

“Dance with me?” You flash him an impish smile, then start bouncing in time to the music again.

Piotr chuckles, then takes your hands in his and bops along with you.

The two of you dance around the room –well, as much as what you’re doing can be called dancing. You sing the lyrics of the song to each other, not sticking to any particular key or tempo.

You laugh when Piotr lifts you into his arms, bridal style, then squeal in delight when he spins the two of you around.

It’s perfect.

***

Day Three

You wake up to the sound of Piotr’s phone chirping –because, even on vacation, he still keeps a daily morning alarm.

He groans as he comes to, then laughs when you roll over him and shut off his alarm for him. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

You set his phone back on his nightstand, then straddle his hips and plant your hands against his brawny chest. “You’re not making me clean today.”

Piotr smirks up at you, bushy eyebrow raising in challenge. “Oh?”

“We’re spending today in this bed,” you continue. “Just you” –you tap his chest—“and me, and as few clothes as possible. Sound good?”

He pretends to mull it over, even has he takes off the shirt he’d been sleeping in. “Are we allowed bathroom and meal breaks?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Ah, very generous. Thank you, benevolent myshka.”

“You’re very welcome.” You giggle when he grins –then let out a delighted yelp when he rolls suddenly, pinning you between him and the bed. You sigh as he kisses you, eyes fluttering shut. You arms wind around his neck, holding him against you while his hands smooth down your body.

***

Day Four

Cabin fever starts setting in between the third and fourth day. There’s only so many chores you can do, only so many papers you can grade (and you’re out of papers to grade, which doesn’t help your case), only so much sex you can have before you’re gonna start losing your mind.

Fortunately, Piotr is well-attuned to you and your mental states –meaning he notices that you’re getting twitchy before you dip into pyromania to keep yourself entertained.

“We should do something fun today,” he says during breakfast. He spreads some sour cream over his plate of blinis, then adds cottage cheese and sausage meat. “Perhaps play some video games. Ellie has been pestering me to play some multi-people games with her and Yukio.”

“Could be fun,” you say before stuffing your mouth full with Nutella-covered blini. You swallow, then ask, “What did she want to play?”

“Ah… she had two. I think… Falling Guys and Among Us?”

A slow, wicked grin stretches across your place. Fuck yeah. “Let her know we’re in.”

***

Piotr, unfortunately, turns out to be none too good at Fall Guys.

“No!” He wails, then flops back against the couch when he gets thrown off a platform and into the slime. “I could not run away!”

“You have to anticipate the enemy’s movements,” Ellie says over Discord. She’s already qualified and is spectating you and Yukio. “Predict their strategy, then counter.”

“I think it is less strategy and more ‘giant hands do not play nice with tiny controller,’” Piotr grumbles good-naturedly.

“Or maybe you got your butt kicked like a scrub,” Ellie fires back.

“I never contested that,” Piotr chuckles.

“Alright,” you say, eyes glued on your pink and yellow striped player. “I’m almost there, there’s plenty of slots left –no, you fucking pigeon! Let me go!”

“Language,” Piotr murmurs between bouts of laughter.

“It’s always a pigeon!” Ellie groans. “Fucking skyrats.”

“Language, NTW.”

You qualify for the next round (no thanks to the damn pigeon, who qualifies, too). Egg Scramble is next, and you wind up facing off against Ellie and Yukio for the win.

“Damn it!” There’s the sound of something hitting the floor –most likely Ellie throwing her controller—when she and Yukio get booted out. “Yellow always loses!”

“Is that it?” you ask while the loading screen plays. “Are we at the final round yet?”

“There’ll be one more,” Yukio says. “To finish whittling down the competitors.”

Sure enough, there’s a round of Tip-Toe –which you get through by the skin of your teeth—and then you and eight other players are sent to the finale.

“Okay, Hex-A-Gone. You’ll want to just hop from tile to tile,” Ellie advises you while the level loads. “It makes the tiles last longer.”

“Don’t be afraid to drop a couple levels at first,” Yukio adds. “You can carve out one of the lower levels, meaning anyone that falls above you will have further to go and will be more likely to get out.”

“I appreciate it, but don’t expect any miracles,” you say, laughing self-deprecatingly.

Piotr kisses the top of your head. “You can do this, myshka.”

You follow the girls’ advice; you let yourself drop down two levels, then start hopping from tile to tile to start carving out the platform.

“One guy’s already out!” Ellie announces. “You’ve got this!”

“Shit! I fell!”

“That’s okay,” Yukio reassures you. “Find a decent mass of tiles and hop, don’t run. Make them last.”

“The pigeon grabbed another player,” Piotr marvels, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, they both died, so fat lot of good it did them,” Ellie mutters.

You keep going, bounce from brightly colored hexagon to brightly colored hexagon.

“Only four left!” Ellie lets out a whoop. “Holy shit, you’re gonna make it!”

“Don’t jinx me!” you laugh as you dodge another player’s attempt to grab you. “Don’t jinx me!”

“Three left –two! It’s just you and one other guy!”

“You’ve got this, Y/N!” Yukio cheers.

You dive for a clump of tiles –and miss. “No!” You groan, then laugh as your character plummets into the pink slime. “Damn. I’m never going to do that good ever again.”

Piotr wraps an arm around your shoulders in a conciliatory hug. “You did wonderful job, myshka.”

“He’s right. That was really good. The winner fell a few seconds after you, so it was basically a coin toss as to who was gonna get the crown,” Ellie says while the winner’s animation plays on screen.

“Yeah! Great job!” Yukio congratulates you.

“Wanna do another round?” Ellie asks as she flicks between skins and accessories for her avatar.

Yukio laughs lightly. “Baby, we were going to get lunch.”

“Oh, right.”

“Perhaps we can try other game after lunch,” Piotr suggests. “‘Fall Guys’ is okay, but makes me too dizzy.”

“Yeah, sure. Text me when you guys are done eating.”

***

Among Us doesn’t go much better for Piotr, if only because he doesn’t adhere to the strategy of the game. He does his tasks without fail –which usually leaves him alone, and thus a prime target for killing or pinning a murder on. He’s also a terrible liar, which makes it easy to tell when he is the impostor.

You laugh as Piotr’s little red spaceman goes floating into space. “I honestly feel bad.”

“I don’t,” Wade says (he and Nate hopped on the Discord call when Yukio sent them an invite). “Pay for some acting classes, Chrome Dome! Give us a challenge, at least.”

Piotr starts grumbling in Russian, but it gets cut off when the round starts up again.

(You all still wind up losing because Nate’s the other impostor and racks up bodies like nobody’s business.)

“I’m still waiting for when Ellie and Dad get the impostor role together,” you comment as the defeat screen flashes on your laptop screen.

“What, so we all die in five minutes?” Wade grumbles. “So we can suffer the agony of betrayal and not honoring trust again?”

“It’s just a game, Wade,” Nate sighs. “And I apologized already.”

“Is our relationship ‘just a game’ to you, Natey? I gave you an alibi –and then you shanked me in the shower like rejected prison bitch!”

“Language, Wade,” your husband pipes up, voice world-weary. “Please.”

You all start another round once Wade calms down –which, admittedly, takes a while and a great deal of coaxing from Nathan. You grin when you see that you’re an impostor alongside Yukio –then giggle to yourself when a plan pops into your mind.

You start stalking Piotr around the map. You fake doing tasks alongside him, acting as his shadow as he treks around the map. On the corner of your screen, you watch your kill timer wind down, then wait for the right moment once it runs out, and—

Downstairs, in his art studio, your husband lets out an indignant scream when your character murders his.

You fall back onto the bed and cackle.

***

Day Five

The squall rages on outside. The world is practically buried in snow. It’s a sea of white outside your bedroom windows, blinding and sterile.

You peer at the swaths of snow blanketing every inch of ground, every tree branch, and every shrub, then nestle further under the blankets. “Ugh. I don’t even want to get out of bed today.”

Piotr chuckles, then wraps an arm around your waist. “How come?”

“Have you seen what it’s like outside? It’s disgusting!”

“I thought you liked snow.”

“I do. That’s how you know it’s bad.” You sigh as you eye the fat, fluffy flakes falling from the sky. “I wish I could, like, go outside. Go to a store or something. Leave the house.”

“Is not safe to drive yet.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh. “Is it bad that I miss the color green?”

“Nyet. Is normal.”

You smile, just a little, when Piotr kisses the back of your head. You roll over to face him. “Can we build a blanket fort today?”

He raises an eyebrow. “What… here? In bedroom?”

“Yeah. We can make it look all pretty, and snuggle in bed, and watch movies, and have sex…”

“Bozhe ty moi.” Piotr snorts, then takes a moment to study your face, your eyes. “You really want blanket fort?”

“Kind of, yeah. I just… I want something new to look at.”

The corner of his mouth turns up in a soft smile. He presses his lips against your forehead. “Alright, myshka. Let’s make fort.”

***

“When a man and a woman see each other and like each other, they ought to come together. Wham. Like a couple of taxis on Broadway.”

You let out a content, relaxed sigh, then wriggle closer to Piotr.

The fort, admittedly, is simple –but you don’t mind. While you were taking a shower, Piotr assembled the whole thing, just to give you a little surprise.

He’d brought up a couple floor lamps from the main floor, then clipped some fairy lights to them before draping the largest quilt in the house over top to make the room. He’d pinned some throw blankets to either side of the quilt to make the sides, then made the bed and assembled the pillows so the two of you could have a nice, cozy, comfy den to watch movies in.

The recurring, delighted thought of ‘he made it for me; he made it for me because he knew I wanted one’ loops around in your brain like a bumblebee drunk on fermented crab apples. You grin, then loop your arms around Piotr’s neck and kiss his cheek.

He grins, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “What was that for?”

“You made me a blanket fort.”

“You asked for one.”

“Yeah, but you made it for me. You could’ve just waited until we could both work on it.”

He shrugs, lips curving into a soft, pleased smile. “I wanted to see look on face. You were very happy.”

“Correction: I am very happy.” You kiss the tip of his nose, then his lips. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

***

Day Six

You know it’s bad when you wake up before Piotr.

You look over at your husband, who’s still slumbering away next to you –and sawing some logs, no less—then out at the winter hellscape outside, and decide there’s only one thing for it.

You’re channeling your inner Great British Bake Off contestant and demolishing the kitchen.

***

Piotr comes downstairs around ten in the morning –which is a miraculous amount of sleep in time for him—but by then, the damage has already been done.

There’s a cake cooling on the counter (you’d found a box of cake mix in the back of the pantry and decided to use it as a warm-up. The mixer is working overtime on a double batch of sugar cookies –plus there’s already chocolate chip cookie dough chilling in the fridge.

You look up from the cookbook you’d been perusing –you were thinking pie next—and flash your husband a slightly sheepish grin as he gapes at the kitchen. “Uh… good morning?”

“Myshka…”

“I made cake.”

“I can see that.” Piotr drops his heads into his hands and makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “Why?”

“Because being trapped inside is stressing me out and I want to cope by eating my weight in desserts.”

Piotr sighs, then lifts his head. He eyes the mixer, then the increasingly sheepish expression on your face. “How much is that?”

“In the bowl or in the fridge?”

“Bozhe ty moi.”

“Look, the way I see it, we can share—”

“You have that much correct. We do not need five million cookies.”

“Excuse you, I’m only making three million. Also, do you know where the lard is?”

Piotr’s face scrunches up. “Lard? Why—”

“I wanna make pie.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We already have cake. And goodness knows how many kinds of cookies.”

“But those aren’t pie.” You smile impishly at him. “Plus, like, pie has fruit, so it’s good for you. You like fruit. Think about how good it’ll be to eat something with fruit after all the cake, and the cookies…”

“Or I could just eat fruit.” He sighs, resigned and slightly frustrated, when you bat your eyelashes at him. “I will check pantry.”

***

Day Seven

“—as of today, authorities are lifting the ban on nonessential travel—”

“Yes!” You launch yourself into the air, twirling around and pumping your fists before landing lightly on the couch once more. “Finally!”

Piotr laughs and shakes his head. “What, is staying inside with me so terrible?”

“Absolutely not.” You crawl across the couch and into his lap, then give him a loud smooch. “I have enjoyed every single day of your company. However, you’ve got about fifteen minutes before I start repainting the walls out of sheer boredom.”

Piotr bursts into raucous guffaws. He puts a hand over his eyes, shoulders and stomach shaking with each laugh. He sighs, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as minute giggles slip past his lips. “Well, we do need to restock on food. And flour and butter, since someone decided to open bakery yesterday.”

You pointedly ignore the pies and full cookie jar sitting on the kitchen counter. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He snorts, then pats your thigh. “Get dressed, myshka. We will go shopping.”

“Fuck yeah!” You zip up the stairs.

Downstairs, you can hear Piotr start laughing again.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #negasonic teenage warhead x yukio #heavy on the fluff #because this year has been a shitload of angst #and quite frankly im done with it #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

If your ever bored, (I'm sending 2 requests because they were too long) can you do one of my requests? The class goes to Gotham for whatever reason. Marinette and Lila have an argument when Two-face comes in. Mari is tired of Lila and grabs him to be her lawyer, the bats as judges, and some random people on the street as the rest of the 9 judges. Can have a ship but isn't necessary.

@i-is-mysterious, so I did this instead of doing my Japanese homework.

“Well, some of you wouldn’t believe this but somehow, a French exchange student managed to capture the attention and the hearts of many Gothammites today.” The News reporter states at the desk. In an OTS next to her, there is an image of what looks to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting in what looks to be in a courtroom setting and next to his Harvey Dent, better known as Two-Face. “Let’s just say stay tone as I tell you about this extraordinary tall tale.”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng could not take Lila’s bullshit anymore. At first, it was fun and dandy, humoring the poor Italian native as she goes on with her day-to-day life, but for some reason, today was not the day to tolerate the liar.

“Will you shut the heck up!” Marinette screeches to the horrid hairstyle that is on top of Lila Rossi’s head.

Lila stares at Marinette, tears swelling her eyes as if on-demand rather than genuine. “How could you say something like that to me, Marinette. I’m only trying to explain to our friends that I know Batman personally and have helped him saved Gotham a few times in the past.”

The class looks between the two teens as if waiting for something huge to happen. Well, that didn’t take long…

“No, you’re making this a bigger mess than it needs to be. The only people Batman work with are the Justice League and whoever the hell is the current and former Robins. What you’re declaring to our class is nothing but a load of shit.” Marinette seethes gesturing to the class and the number of confused pedestrians.

Well it is at this moment when Nino decides that listening to this problem was only going to lead to a larger mess and turns up the music playing from his phone into earphones.

“Well it’s true, it not my fault that your jealous, Marinette. I can’t believe you think that I am lying about stuff like that.” Lila places a hand over her chest and tries to look for sympathy.

“Yeah, right, and I’m Ladybug.” Marinette sarcastically retorts.

Just then the doors blast opens. Goons of all heights swarm into the room, with guns blazing. Everyone not apart of the shutting gets down onto the floor. Lila begins to squirm saying all sorts of nonsense about the Bat-family and how they will save her. Marinette rolls her head and examines the room.

The goons, now forcing those into a concern talking into an earpiece, all of it was something that Marinette could understand nor hear. She sees that Nino’s was fumbling with his phone as Alya tries to take it away to film this drastic situation. Only for the earphones to unconnected from the phone. Loud music burst out from the speakers. It’s Teeth by 5 Seconds to Summer.

Marinette, feeling the beat, gets up. The goons turn to her aiming their guns at her. They yell at her to get down on the floor, sending a warming shoot, it misses. Her classmates call for her to get back down, but Marinette was already dancing to the music.

“Fight so dirty, but your love’s so sweet.” She winks at the goons before sending one to the ground by a kick in the stomach. The gun goes off, sending bullets into the ceiling. She shrugs her shoulders, before twirling to the next goon. Three bullets fly past her, not even one hitting her but the wall behind her.

“Late night devil, put your hands on me.” Marinette sings another line of words. More goons’ advances on her.

Nino seeing what she was doing grabs his phone back and turns the volume up. Marinette’s feet tap to the beat as she song continues so does the speed of her defensive attacks.

Another goon down.

Marinette dives low before swinging her feet into another goon’s legs.

“Blood on my shirt, rose in my hand. You’re looking at me like you don’t know who I am.” The song rears closer to the end, when everything suddenly stops.

There standing at the large opening of the newly made entrances stands Two-Face with his hand on a cigarette. He puffs out the smoke.

“You girl.” He calls out.

The music comes to an abrupt stop. Marinette’s body staggers with the sudden loss of rhythm. She turns around and points to herself. Narrowing her eyes, she purses her lips, before a smirk sneaks its way onto her face.

She stalks towards him before roughly grabbing his wrist.

“You’re a lawyer, right?” She asks motioning for her classmates to get up.

Two-Face is taken back, he stares at the teen girl before him. “What of it?”

“I have a problem that doesn’t want to go away and seeing as we’re in a courthouse…” Marinette’s eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Two-Face, let the students go…” There you have it, people, the Batman himself and the rest of the family have arrived. Just a little later than normal.

What happened next, no one knows how a small teen from France manages to get everyone inside a courtroom with Batman as the judge and the rest of Bat-family being the jurors. Lila stands shitless with Mlle. Bustier as her supposes lawyer.

“Order in the court. This evening we will be going off the case of the plaintiff Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the defendant Lila Rossi. Today’s trial is about slander and defamation. Overseeing this case is Judge Batman.” Nightwing states to the court.

Hush whispers echoes within the room as the views watch in anticipation.

“Your honor, my student is not at fault with any of these charges.” Caline Bustier says, pleadingly.

Batman’s response to that was a grunt, nothing more, nothing less.

“As you can see, B-man, my client has documentary proof that the defendant Ms. Rossi has claimed to in contact with various amounts of celebrities and superheroes, you included on that list.” Two-Face states pulling out a large file that magically appeared from nowhere. Let’s not talk about where.

Two-Face hands the Judge the file. Batman looks over the file. He sees names that he too is personally familiar with such as Jagged Stone and his own sons’ names.

“Objection, your honor, my student as a lying condition. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Caline cries out as Lila grips the edge of her seat.

“Your honor, I would like to call Lila Rossi to the stand.”

“Objection.”

“Overruled.”

Lila takes her place on the stand. She could have sworn that Nightwing was smirking at her as she lied her way through the bat-a-rang. Yes, a bat-a-rang was used instead of a bible, where’s in Gotham here people. That and this is no regular court appearance.

“Lila Rossi, was it? Don’t answer that, you claim that Marinette has been bullying you since your return to school.”

“Well yeah, Marinette threatens me in the bathroom, she even slapped me in the face. Then it started to go all downhill from there.”

“I don’t believe you, seeing as there are no health records stating that you had any physical injuries to your being. My client, on the other hand, has multiple claims about being injured on school property. Why is that?”

Two-Face then hands Nightwing a different file containing evidence regarding medical information. Once again don’t ask how they manage to obtain that information.

“Objection!” Mlle. Bustier calls out. “This information was never made public. How did they even get their hands on it?”

Once again Batman only grunts.

“Hey B-man, this information is legit, Ms. Rossi never had any claims of a physical injury only Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Nightwing whispers to the judge.

Batman turns to his jurors and raises the gavel.

“I have heard enough. Miss Rossi, you claim that you have helped me and my partners when you have never set foot in Gotham before this trip. Jurors, you have less than five minutes to decide her faith.”

Lila begins to protest. She calls to her teacher for help. The class, bless their naïve little minds, only sit down with popcorn in their hands.

Marinette turns to Two-Face with a smirk on her face and holds out her hand. Two-Face hits it, causing the teen’s hits to widen as she tries to hide her discomfort.

Five minutes later, Red Robin stands to the judge with a piece of paper in hand.

“We,” he yawns, “the jurors have decided that Lila Rossi is guilty of all counts of charges against her.” A random person hands the vigilante a cup of coffee. He sips it longingly.

Lila screams in shock. She tells them that she has immunity only for her claims to go on death’s ears.

The day ends with Marinette sitting on her balcony with a cup of coffee in hand with Adrien beside her.

“Did you have to dramatic today?”

“It was fun, wasn’t it? Watching her dig her own pit, but little did she knew was that the class was only humoring since her return. Everyone knows that I’m the queen of the school.” Marinette proceeds to drink her drink all while Adrien stands there eating a croissant.

#ArtXyra answers #maribat #ml x dc #no ships #miraculous crossover #dc crossover #mlb x dc

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specterchasing-a · 3 years

Text

Walking on Broken Glass || Solo

TIMING: Last night.

LOCATION: The Bend.

PARTIES: Eddie and a ghost I accidentally became emotionally attached to.

SUMMARY: Eddie spends some time with a ghostly friend, things get a little heavy, then very stupid, and then heavy again. It’s a roller coaster.

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia tw, homophobia tw

Ask any White Crest native about the derelict houses in the bend and they’ll tell you that ‘abandoned’ doesn’t always mean ‘empty.’ Squatters looking to put a roof over their heads might hunker down in the neglected homes, usually becoming a meal for something sinister, but some occupants can’t be so easily disposed of. Those who have no life to be taken from them cling to familiar places instead of moving on. Before death’s embrace, they hung pictures and changed lightbulbs. They tried to determine which color to paint their living rooms before deciding it would be too much work to relocate the furniture. After all, for something to be abandoned, it must have once been cherished.

Eddie knocked on the front door before letting himself in. He arrived later than usual with hardly any time before the sun hung its hat. Soon enough, ‘the bend’ would become ‘the buffet’ for creatures of the night. “Amira?” he called out as he nudged the door shut with his heel. Broken glass covered the living room floor and crunched under his feet as he ventured into the living room.

“You were supposed to be here hours ago,” a voice replied.

“I got tied up,” he said, turning to face the specter standing mid-way up the stairs. Amira’s arms were crossed, but a few of the stab-wounds on her chest remained visible. “What’s with the glass?”

“Oh, you know,” Amira sighed as she descended to the ground-floor. “I started thinking about how I’ll never taste freshly made coffee again and it made me so distraught that I shattered the windows.”

“As one does,” Eddie sagely responded. With a shrug, his backpack slipped off his shoulders. He tossed it onto the faded couch and began rifling through the main compartment in search of his portable speaker. “On the bright-side, the outcome of your afterlife crisis has inspired the first title on tonight’s soundtrack.” Eddie placed the speaker on the coffee table and synced it to his phone while Amira closed the distance between them. Her eyes curiously watched as he scrolled through song titles.

“Why couldn’t those have been around in the ‘80s?” she asked with a huff.

“Blame Reagan,” Eddie said before hitting play.

‘Walking on Broken Glass’ by Annie Lennox streamed from the speaker in all its soul-pop glory. Eddie shoved his phone into his back pocket and took a cursory glance around the room in search of the broom and dustpan.

“In the kitchen, where you left them,” Amira instructed.

“How do you do that?”

“What, read your mind? You act like it’s difficult.”

Eddie eyed her with light-hearted skepticism as he slipped by, careful not to pass through her. Amira didn’t like being reminded of her intangibility; it exacerbated the ache of a half-existence. From time to time, when their conversations lulled or Eddie seemed distracted, she asked if he couldn’t see her anymore, always with a look of mild panic. The thought of her killer seeing the world continue to grow and change while she faded away kept her from crossing-over. It didn’t matter that prison bars obstructed his view, she said they were both destined to cope with cages someone else put them in. Her cage had nice flowers on the wallpaper and memories of brighter days, at least.

In the kitchen, Eddie noticed the cupboard doors opening and closing along with the music and immediately grinned. Life dealt him a hand he didn’t always know how to play, but helping the dead come back to life for a little while made it seem worth it. He grabbed the handle of the broom and rejoined Amira in the living room. He watched as her shoulders bounced rhythmically.

“Looks like I’ve given Annie Lennox a brand-new fan,” he remarked.

“I’m inclined to agree.” Amira simpered at him over her shoulder. “When did this song come out?”

“Uh, the ‘90s, I believe.”

“Explains why I’ve never heard it, but I’m in love with her voice.”

“With pristine taste like that, you’re a girl after my own heart,” Eddie crooned wistfully while ushering shards of glass into a neat pile.

“I don’t think I’m your type.”

Eddie froze mid-sweep and furrowed his brow. He thought about Nell, about Alfie and Kyle, how they highlighted an aspect of himself he preferred to keep in the dark, all in unique ways that seemed to share the same conclusion. Eddie remembered the first time he saw two men holding hands in public and the way his mother told him to look away. He felt scared, not for himself, but for them. That day in the common, onlookers didn’t see an innocent display of affection, they saw something unfit for their children to be around. Eddie didn’t agree, but to think that someone might view him as a threat for something as innocuous as holding another man’s hand shook him to his core. He didn’t want that to be his life.

“Why does everyone assume I’m gay?” Eddie laughed, trying to pretend it didn’t bother him. “Is it, like, a vibe, or… ?”

“I meant because I don’t have a corporeal body, but now that you mention it…”

Realizing the error in his assumption, he quickly pulled his phone out and turned the speaker’s volume up to maximum. “I’m sorry,” he shouted. “I can’t hear you at all, Amira! You’re gonna have to speak up.” Eddie gestured to his ears and shrugged helplessly before turning away from her and making a beeline for the stairs, letting the broom hit the floor as he departed.

“Edward!” Amira called out to him.

“You got me feeling like the Ting Tings because that is not my name!”

“I don’t get that reference! Eddie, get back here, there’s still glass everywhere!”

“Shoulda thought of that before you took your anger out on innocent windows!”

Annie Lennox wailed from downstairs as Eddie barrelled towards the closest door. His hands wrapped around the handle and pulled, but to no avail.

“You idiot,” Amira scolded, suddenly right next to him. “You can’t hide from me in this house, I’m everywhere.”

“That’s so scary, why would you say that to me?” Eddie balked through laughter, still tugging fruitlessly on the door.

It didn’t take much to distract Eddie from the uncomfortable topics that plagued his mind. He perfected the art of running away from his problems at an early age like a true prodigy. Even Amira cracked a smile at how utterly ridiculous he looked trying to open a door he didn’t stand a chance against.

“Fine, you want inside that bad? Go ahead.” With a flick of her wrist, the door opened and Eddie, not letting go of the door fast enough, fell back against the upstairs railing. His chest heaved as looked down at the distance between himself and the floor.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “I could’ve died—then we’d be roommates.”

“God forbid,” Amira tittered.

Eddie elected to ignore that comment and focus on the room he now had access to. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in here,” he said as took a few steps in. Aside from the moonlight streaming in from the window, shadows dominated every corner. He squinted to bring what he could into focus: a large bed with a plush comforter, a vanity littered with objects he couldn’t quite make out, a couple of nightstands. All in all, it seemed like a perfectly normal bedroom aside from the dated furniture, but that was to be expected.

“Probably not,” Amira said, drifting in after him. “Look, Eddie, about what happened downstairs…”

Eddie turned to face her and shook his head. “We really don’t need to talk about it.”

“Okay, but let me just say that, if you were…” she trailed off with a sigh. “Whatever you end up being, it won’t matter to me.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, Amira.” He wandered over to the bed and ran his hand over the comforter. He wondered if time took away its softness or if the people of the ‘80s harbored a vendetta against comfort. “It’s everyone else.”

Eddie collapsed into bed and closed his eyes, laying on his back while Amira watched mournfully. She wanted to offer him comfort, to somehow convince him that happiness existed even for those who didn’t fit into society’s neat little boxes. The words wouldn’t come to her and, even if they did, she knew how difficult he could be. If Eddie didn’t want to listen, he wouldn’t. She wracked her brain for something that might cheer him up.

“Hey Eddie,” she said as she moved to the unoccupied side of the bed. “This is where I died, my final resting place as it were. I’m willing to share it for a while if you are.”

“Nice,” he replied with a hint of a grin. “I’d like that.”

She lowered herself onto her side, propping up on her elbow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but have you ever looked into therapy?” She peered down at him as he nodded solemnly.

“And therapy has looked into me.”

From across the room, Amira lifted a throw blanket off of the vanity’s chair-back and guided it to the bed to drape over Eddie. It felt like the closest she could get to giving him a hug, which looked exactly like what he needed as he laid next to her in silence.

“You’re gonna be okay, you know that, right?” she softly asked.

“We’ll see.”

#wickedswriting #internalized homophobia tw #// i NEEDED to get this out of my head and now i can do replies #i hope you all love amira as much as i do #walking on broken glass #homophobia tw

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knifefather · 4 years

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KnifeFather’s Kinktober 2020, 18+ NSFW ➼ Day 18: Anal play or coercion ➼ Pairing: Goth!Bruno Bucciarati ➼ Word count: 2.1k ➼ Reader is AFAB and female pronouns are used. ➼ This is part one of two. ➼ Also available on Ao3. ➼ Warning: Both the reader and Bruno are intoxicated during this fic. If drinking or recreational drug use is not your jam, please be cautious while reading this.

You attend a concert and meet the perfect stranger.

The feeling of alcohol stinging the back of your throat distracted you as best as it could from your anxiety. The club was loaded--many other people dressed in the same black clothing as you stood about, talking amongst themselves while they waited for the band to begin their set. Your friend, Narancia, was busy chatting up a girl that he had met on the way into the joint. She was petite with bright pink hair, and her sizeable, poofy black skirt bunched up around her like a cloud. You sat on the other side of him, shooting back the second shot you ordered. Or was it the third?

You were never good at these kinds of things. Even though you were surrounded by like-minded people, you could never get past that incredible hump of social anxiety. You were kinda lost without Narancia and found yourself sticking close to him when you went to shows. The club began to grow smoky pretty quickly. The stench of weed filled your nostrils, and your head began to swim.

Suddenly, you heard the place erupt in noise, whoops and hollers coming from near the stage. The two girls performing came on to set up their equipment, and already they were getting a positive reaction. The lead singer strummed her guitar, testing out the speaker. At least the music was about to begin and that would give you something to focus on. You looked over at Narancia, and he was still busy talking with the girl. Interestedly, the girl wriggled a finger under one of the black leather straps that Narancia wore on his chest. She smiled at him and tugged on it flirtatiously, her blood-red lipstick making her wolfish smile all the more predatory. He began to blush, sputtering at the attention. He was definitely going to get laid tonight. You figured you would leave him to it.

You rose from your seat and decided to start making your way towards the stage as well. The girls introduced their band and thanked the audience for attending. Most of the clubbers were near the stage now. You looked around, taking in the crowd. A few people looked interesting and you thought about going up to talk to them, but the feeling of anxiety in your gut held you in place. As you checked out the group of people, your eyes fell on possibly the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. His chin-length dark hair blended into the background, admittedly, and his equally dark outfit fitted his body wonderfully. He was talking to another man, tall and with long silver hair. They were mostly keeping to themselves, making chitchat while the music started. As you gazed at them, the man looked over in your direction, noticing your gaze. You quickly snapped your eyes away, trying to act like you weren’t looking. You were thankful when the drummer began playing the opening notes. You tossed a gaze over your shoulder, hoping to see Narancia close by, but you couldn’t see his dark purple hair anywhere. Great. You swallowed thickly and paid attention to the display on stage.

They began to play the next one. The instrumentals went much harder than the last song, and a pit began to open up behind you. You were too skittish for mosh pits, so you quickly ducked out of the way of the other concert-goers. As you moved away, you felt your back collide with someone, hard. You whipped around to apologize, only to see it was the casanova you were checking out only moments before. His painted black lips tugged into a smile while you apologized to him over the loud music.

“You’re fine,” he insisted.

“What?” you asked, the floor and stage vibrating from the sounds around you.

“I said, ‘you’re fine’,” the stranger said again, ducking down to your level and speaking a little louder. Still, you had no idea what he fucking said.

“I’m so sorry, but I have no idea--” you began, yelling over the music. Carefully, he grabbed your arm and ushered you away from the edge of the pit. It was becoming intense as they switched to another fast-paced song, the lead singer still screaming with gusto. As he led you out of the crowd, it was already noticeably quieter. You didn’t see his tall friend anywhere near. “I said,” he began, chuckling, “‘you’re fine’.”

“Thanks. You are too,” you responded without thinking. When you realized what you said, you quickly looked away from him. Did you really just do that? The man’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He looked you over, taking in your appearance. His eyes lingered a bit too long before he looked back up into your eyes. His blue ones were hypnotizing--they made you feel oddly special. They were a bit hazy, just like yours.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n. You?”

“Bruno. Y/n, would you perhaps like to come back to my place after the show?” he asked. Just then, the lead vocalist announced they were going to slow down the set. A soft, lachrymose guitar settled over the club. The singer was singing sweetly now, the steady beat of the drum syncing up with your heartbeat.

“Yes,” you answered, again without thinking. You shouldn’t--you should stay at the club with Narancia. But you had no clue where he was, and he was probably getting some. Why shouldn’t you do the same? Besides, you’d text him after a while to let him know where you were. “Do you… wanna leave now?” you asked boldly, giving him a sly smile.

“Let me tell my friend that I’m leaving,” he said before politely excusing himself to disappear into the crowd. You were alone again, hanging on the outskirts of the crowd. You smelled the skunky stench of marijuana again, and suddenly a joint was being passed to you from another stranger, a woman in a cloak with large, blocky brows. You accepted the joint and took a toke for bravery before passing it to the person next to you. It wasn’t long before Bruno was back at your side, guiding you out of the club with a hand on the small of your back. The sound of the new song playing disappeared into the background.

The night was quiet, yet clear, the streetlights illuminating more than the club did. You had a better look at Bruno under the light. Your interesting new partner was tall, with a muscular but slender built. The brilliant color of his irises stood out even more under the streetlights. You were astounded at how lucky you had gotten. Bruno was beginning to lead you away from the club, down the sidewalk.

“I live near here, so I figured we could walk a bit,” he said, waving his hand in the direction of down the street. You told him that was fine, and you both disappeared from the outside of the club. “I’m not exactly sober, so I wouldn’t want to chance driving." "I'm in the same boat as you," you replied. The slanted lights elongated both of your shadows, making your dark forms look all the more threatening. Bruno’s shirt jingled softly as he walked along, the zippers and chains shifting. You narrowed your eyes to his legs and saw more, along with form-fitting pants that you observed for longer than necessary. He began to make conversation with you, learning more about who you were and where you came from. He was native to Napoli and you were not, so he gave you many pointers about the city and what kinds of places to eat at. Specifically, one restaurant that he claimed had the best food in the city, Libeccio. He was full of knowledge about Napoli and tips on how to live in it. You had been living there for a few years and knew everything that he was telling you, but you enjoyed hearing him speak, so you didn't interrupt.

You realized how intoxicated you were when you arrived at Bruno’s place and there were steps. The platforms that you wore wearing didn’t help you either, and you struggled to climb them straight. You felt Bruno’s arms curl around your waist, and even though he was fucked up too, he still helped you. You did better than you would have on your own, so you allowed it.

When you entered his apartment, you were greeted by a grand window overlooking the rest of the city. You weren’t surprised to find that his place was decorated according to his fashion tastes. Most of his furniture was black leather with appropriate matching tables, as well as minimalistic decor mimicking an almost Victorian aesthetic. What fascinated you the most was the large collection of records that Bruno proudly displayed in his living room. The collection was contained in about three large shelves, all several inches taller than you, and all full. You then observed a small stack of records sitting on the edge of the coffee table nearby.

“I need to get another shelf. I’m running out of space,” he said, his tone a bit bashful. “You can choose some for us to listen to.” You nearly felt honored being allowed to touch his music collection. While you looked over the shelves, you realized there were several different genres contained on them, including older jazz like Miles Davis. You were relieved to be with someone that had an open ear. Days of Future Passed by The Moody Blues called out to you, so you grabbed that one and tucked it under your arm.

“So, tell me about you. You haven’t really said much about yourself,” you said without looking at him. You were busy choosing between two albums now. Bruno raised a pierced brow before responding.

“Is there anything in particular you would like to know?”

You gave a nervous chuckle before choosing The Gold Experience by Prince. “Just mostly making sure you’re not gonna murder me or something,” you said, half-joking. He was quiet for a moment, and you looked over to see his expression. He gave you a dismissive look before replying.

“I don’t want to murder you, I promise. I don’t think it would be within either of our interests,” he said, the corners of his plump, black lips pulling up in a smile. “I’m trying to make you feel good, not hurt you,” he whispered beside you, and you felt your shoulders tense. His little comment caught you off guard, and soon, you felt your stomach flutter pleasantly. You looked over at him, and he gazed back, giving you an interested, heavy-lidded look. “Unless you enjoy a little pain?” he asked, looking you up and down like he did at the club. He was closer than you remembered him being.

“Maybe I do,” you teased, setting down the records, forgetting all about them. The truth be told, you were kinky in a lot more ways than just being a masochist. “Would you like to find out?” you invited, folding your hands behind your back coquettishly. Bruno drew closer to you, pulling your hips into his grasp. When he looked down at you, his long black hair framed his face, his jaw appearing perfectly chiseled. The dark makeup he wore around his eyes made the man's gaze pop. His pupils dilated as he looked down at you.

“I would,” he responded simply, before leaning in and capturing your lips in his. Your lips--no, your whole face --tingled as the man moved his mouth over yours, smacking softly in the room. You moaned into the kiss and fisted your hands in his sweater, pulling him as close as he could be. The exchange was hot as Bruno’s warm lips slotted against yours. His kiss was hungry, yet respectful, and you could tell he was holding back on you. To get a reaction out of him, you slid your hands down his sides and to his waistline. You began to fiddle with his belt-buckle, but he caught your hands in his.

He pulled away from the kiss and gave you a pointed look. “Not yet… I want to have my fun with you first, dolcezza,” he said. He gave you a few more kisses and gazed down at you, his forehead pressed against yours. “I want this to last a while,” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. All you could do was nod and gaze back at him, your voice failing you. Still holding your hands, he guided you away from the shelves and down the hall to his bedroom. The rest of his home was decorated in the same style as the living room. The exciting adrenaline pumping through you made your vision blur, like you were caught in a whirlwind but perfectly fine with it.

#bruno bucciarati #jjba #not sfw #day 19 part 1 #my work #backup #kinktober entry #tw substance use #tw alcohol #tw marijuana

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anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya · 4 years

Text

Savior (Series 81) - Erik Černák

(This GIF is mine, but feel free to share his beautiful smile. *wink*)

I whish you a wonderful day. I decided to finally post this thing. It is the very first part of a little project of mine. I named it Series 81 (yes very creative of me, sue me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) and it is a serie of oneshots, which should make sense without reading the other parts. I am creating a new universe for this serie and all of the Series 81 oneshots will be from the same AU. Does that make sense? No? Too bad. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Part 1 of Series 81

Word count: 2577

Noise, lights, people and alcohol.

Loud music bouncing off of the isolated underground walls, to prevent the noise complaints from coming, is blending together with the voices of dancers. Dancers, who would stubbornly claim, that the sound was actually singing. If you asked anyone else, they would tell you the exact opposite.

Flashing lights could cause more than one seizure to an epileptic, but make no worries to the tipsy dancers. The dance floor is flooded by not the smallest amount of bodies per say. Only one spot remains almost empty. In the very corner, next to the DJ booth. Just a few seconds prior it was occupied by a group of young girls, dancing their night away. Gradually they slipped away to go god knows where. Safe for one.

Little blond girl is suddenly left all alone, her friends excusing themselves with a promise to be right back. They aren't. But the creepy looking guy, who's been eyeing her the entire night, is. Now he is trying to get closer to her, but she's not having any of that. She makes the bee-line for their table. However, the table is now claimed by some strangers with drinks in hands. She huffs and turns on her heel. He's still looking. More like staring.

She fidgets with her phone and clicks the contact icon. No signal. Is this some kind of a sick joke or bad karma? She thinks. She runs up the stairs and next to the very entrance, the signal is back.

The number is dialed and it rings.

She doesn't pick up.

"Why the hell can't she pick up the damn phone when I need her?" she mumbles desperately under her breath. Suddenly she remembers. Her jacket. It was left forgotten in the booth filled with strangers. She goes back. Speed-walking by the pair of eyes making her skin crawl. She asks for her jacket. When she is handed the jacket she makes a run for the bathroom. In the tiny space she splashes her face with water. It’s times like these she is really grateful for not wearing any make up at all.

She stays there for a little longer than necessary, hoping that by the time she leaves her friends will have returned already.

When she emerges and walks over to the dance floor she is met only with the disgusting stare again. She turns on her heel to leave, but is met with a hard surface she is pretty sure wasn't here couple of seconds ago. A yelp escapes her mouth and she takes a step back.

"I'm sorry, are you alright?"

The hard surface is in fact a broad chest of a tall man standing in front of her. She takes in his features. Light hair, or so she assumes since it is pretty dark in the club, besides the flashing lights. His shoulders are wide and that face...

Recognition flashes in her eyes. Her lips form an "o".

The voice speaks again. This time in English instead of her native language.

"I am fine." She finally responds, in Slovak. "I'm sorry I didn't see you I was... " she trails off. Trying to get away from that creepy dude over here. She thinks.

"Which one?" he looks around.

"What?"

"That creepy guy. Is that him?" he jabs his chin behind her. She looks over her shoulder briefly.

"Yeah," she nods.

"I'm Erik, by the way." says the not so mysterious man and extends his hand to her.

"Lucia," she accepts his hand.

"So, you want some help getting rid of him?"

"I- yeah, actually yes." She mentally face palms for tripping over her own words. He only smiles.

"Would you like to dance?" He offers. She gives him a small nod. She is led towards the dance floor with her hand in his, which makes her heart rate quicken. But not the same way like when she was followed by the creepy gaze. The blaring music pulses trough her veins while she does her best to forget the weird guy. Having Erik as a distraction right in front of her helps a lot, though. The way his eyes stay glued on her face makes her insides warm. His gaze flicks behind her and he reaches for her. He grabs her waist and leans in.

"He's looking." He talks over the music.

"So you're doing it only because he is watching us and you are definitely not using the situation to your advantage." She muses.

"I might be." A smirk stretches on his lips.

Her hands wrap around his neck and her smirk mirrors his own. The roaring noise makes her almost deaf, yet she swears she can hear her heart beating in her ears. That's what his cocky little smirk and touch do to her. She might have just met him, but she's realised one thing the moment she met his gaze. She's fucked and under his spell. She might be a little shy, but she sure as hell ain't giving up that easily. Two can play this game.

Her palm slides down his chest and back up to his arm. She traces the muscles on his arm all the way down towards his wrist. She grabs it and brings it in the air. She makes him twirl like men do to women while they dance. Erik laughs, but plays along. A smile makes its way on her features. He takes her hands. He turns her in his arms, with her arms crossed over her chest. He leans down to her ear.

"Why are you here alone?" his breath fans her neck, making a shiver run down her back.

"I am not alone," she turns and pushes his chest. His hand reaches for her wrist before she can get too far.

He spins her and brings her back to him. Putting his hands on her waist she places her small ones on his broad shoulders.

"I take it there is no boyfriend to worry about."

"If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't need you in the first place," she answers confidently.

He squeezes her hips dragging her closer. His lips grazing the delicate skin of her exposed neck while he speaks his next words."You sure do run your mouth."

The breath gets caught in her throat. "But you like it," he doesn't miss the teasing in her words. A deep groan rumbles in his chest. She might not hear it, but she does feel it under her fingers.

A familiar song comes through the speakers and she pulls away a bit. She grabs his hands and smiles big. She starts waving around their conjoined hands like a mad person. Apparently this is her dance style.

When his gaze falls upon her moving figure he smiles just as wide. He's just gotten back home from Tampa and decided to blow off some steam in a club with his friends. It's been a long season and corona delaying the playoffs sure as hell made this summer different. Thank goodness for having the bars and clubs open, with limited capacity of course. Tonight he won't be thinking about hockey, though.

Who would have thought that after everything that is happening around him he would quite literally stumble upon a woman like Lucia.

Behind Erik she spots her friends coming back in. They haven't noticed her yet, but are looking around. She slips away from his grip.

"I have to go." She looks away from his piercing gaze and makes a move to step around him.

"Wait," he catches her arm gently. "Don't run away from me. Even Cinderella left a shoe behind," he smiles.

"Smooth." The corner of her lips tugs up into a devilish smirk. "Give me your best pick-up line and I just might leave something behind."

He pauses, thinking. Then he opens his mouth as he speaks. "I've got one, but it's in English," he rubs the back of his neck. Suddenly seeming out of place.

"Try me."

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

This one is her favourite. If it's finished correctly, that is.

"No, I actually crawled from hell," she gives him an innocent smile. This is the part where she tests him.

"So that's why you're so damn hot." If it wasn't his words, then it was the smirk what did it for her. Lucia motions for Erik to hand her his phone. He happily obliges. She goes to his apps and adds herself on snapchat. He didn't think he would get her number that easily, did he?

"Here," she pushes the small box into his palm. She stands on her tiptoes and leans on his shoulder. She quickly presses a kiss to his cheek and disappears as if she's never been there. But she was. And the proof is now in his phone.

"There you are. Where were you?" one of her friends, a short brunette, asks her as soon as she approaches their group.

"Me? All of you disappeared and left me here alone. Which reminds me. Where the fuck were you?" She jumps into the defence mode immediately.

"I told you I went out to buy cigarettes. Calm down," the girl resists to roll her eyes.

"Wanna dance?" a tall equally brown-haired girl asks.

"Sure," all of them answer as one. The girls make their way to the dance floor. From the very center where they managed to squeeze in, Lucia catches a familiar par of eyes. And then another, one she would rather forget. She fixes him with a glare and resumes her dance moves. Her favourite song comes up and she squeals. She leans toward her friends. "This is my song." She yells over the loud music. They all laugh, but scream the lyrics on the top of their lungs with her.

Suddenly Lucia feels a presence behind her. She tenses, her eyes crying for help. But her friends are too busy to actually notice that. Hands settling on her waist finally get a reaction out of her. She spins pushing his chest. She is in the middle of the process of raising her hand when she realises who it is.

"Do riti Erik! You scared me!"

"I'm sorry, but that guy was getting close again so I thought I'd give you a hand, " he smiles innocently.

"Or two hands on my waist, right?" she raises her brows, a smirk stretching on her lips.

"Didn't think you'd mind,"mirroring her expression he extends his arm towards her. "Shall we dance?"

Before she has the chance to grab his outstretched hand her friends are dragging her away. She grimaces kind of apologetically.

"I'll see you,"she mouths. Yeah, in the friking TV. She thinks bitterly.

After a rather long walk through the town they finally get to the bus stop. Maybe and maybe not four police cars go by and maybe and maybe not one of them actually stops to ask if everything is okay. Because maybe and maybe not some of the girls were dancing on the bus stop.

When Lucia finally gets on the bus she fishes her phone out of her purse. She takes a pic of the darkness behind the bus window and posts it on snapchat.

Erik.Cernak

Are you going by bus?

Lucyy

Yes?

Erik.Cernak

Are you alone in a bus at night??

Lucyy

I mean, there are some people in the bus...

Erik.Cernak

What bus are you on?

Lucyy

N1 why?

Erik.Cernak

Do you get off on the terminus?

Lucyy

Yes?

Erik.Cernak

If anything happens during the bus ride text me okay?

Lucyy

Okay.

He is worried about me?

Why, yes. Erik is indeed worried about Lucia. Finding out a pretty girl from the club is going home alone in the dark, sure does make one feel unsettling to say the least.

The bus ride goes rather smoothly. It's just the fact that the guy sitting a few rows in front of Lucia on a seat facing her keeps looking at her. To say it makes her stomach bubble with uneasiness would be an understatement. The closer to the terminus the bus gets the emptier the bus is.

When it's time to get off it's only her and another older lady sitting in the very back. She steps outside into the dark of the night and looks around to make sure no danger is waiting around.

A tall male figure is standing near the lamp post. His hair is indeed blond, just like she assumed before. She approaches him with a rather quiet "ahoj".

"Hi. Where to?" he asks.

She rises her eyebrows with an amused smile playing on her lips. "At least ask me out first."

"I might. If you are nice." He smirks.

"Too bad. I am a very mean person." She shrugs.

"Are you now?" He lifts his brow.

"Yeah." She moves her shoulders again. "Come on it's kinda cold." She gestures with her hand and starts walking.

"Is that an invitation?" He follows.

"Don't push your luck Erik."

After a minute or so Erik's deep voice cuts through the quiet air of Košice. "Watcha doin' next week?"

She smirks."I am going out with this hot guy I met recently." She answers nonchalantly.

"Really? And who that might be?"He catches on her intentions quickly.

"You see he lives in Florida, you probably don't know him." She shakes her head. Just as the chilly breeze wraps its arms around her a shiver runs through her body. Soon a denim-like hoodie is placed on her shoulders.

"I though he was some local or something." He states as if he didn't just give her the only layer of his clothing other than the tight T-shirt.

"He's a Košice born guy actually." She shrugs. "Won't you be cold?" She looks up at him, but pulls the hoodie tighter.

"Nah, I can hear your teeth clattering. Keep it." He shakes his head. "So when are the two of you going out?"

"Monday at two I guess." She shrugs again. She sure does shrug a lot.

"Good." He nods.

They stop in front of an old flat and she turns around to face him."Thanks for walking me home and making sure and I didn't die along the way."She laughs. He likes her laugh. He really does.

"Mom would be ashamed of me if I let a pretty lady go home alone at night. "She chuckles again. A shiver runs down his spine when the wind blows again. She makes a move to return him the hoodie, but he extends his hand and shakes his head lightly.

"I'll get it back later."

She laughs shaking her head."You guys always let us have your clothes just to see us again."

He smirks. "You caught me."

"Just try not to freeze to death."

"I'll try to stay alive till Monday. Your smile will keep me warm." He winks.

"Gosh you're cheesy." She couldn't help, but roll her eyes.

He takes a step closer."I am glad I met you."

Lucia's confident facade wavers for a second."Same here."

They just stand there looking at each other not letting out a single tone slip past their lips. Erik leans closer, his hot breath fanning over her cold cheeks. Lucia inches towards him, but not connecting their lips yet. She wants him to take the last step. And so he does, slightly leaning in meeting the pink lips of the girl he quite literally ran into.

#series 81 #series81 #erik cernak imagine #tampa bay lightning imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction #oc #slovakia #erik cernak #tampa bay lightning #nhl #hockey

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madbucker · 4 years

Text

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Eventual Daryl Dixon x female reader.

IV.

Season 1.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: Y/N follows Rick to Atlanta. They find a group willing to help them.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death, mentions of domestic abuse. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 3.6k.

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! Had this in my drafts for a few days. I hope you like it! ♥

Gif’s not mine.

“Morgan…” You couldn’t find the right words to express how grateful you were. You looked at Morgan and Duane with conflict showing in your eyes: you were happy and hopeful that you were going to find your sister in Atlanta, but you couldn’t ignore the anguish, the heartbreak of leaving them. Every second counted, and waiting a few more days could lower your chances of finding her alive, but those two had saved your life. What if leaving them lowered their chances of making it to safety? Even if you weren’t suited for survival, having someone else around could make a difference.

“Go, this is your chance. We’ll meet again, soon.” Morgan took over as if he knew how much you were feeling at the moment, embracing you not only with his arms but with his words.

Yeah, we’ll meet again, you thought. Your mind softened for a couple of seconds when you felt another set of arms hugging you tight from your side. You had only known them for a couple of weeks, but that was a lot when the world was the way it was. Weeks felt like a lifetime for you, and so it did for the men that had taken you in.

Men, because Duane was far from being a boy. It was sad, he deserved to live the rest of his childhood like you did, or like his father did. He had to, forcefully, become brave, strong, and even cold sometimes.

“We’ll meet again in Atlanta, or somewhere else, I don’t know, but we will.” You said as they let go of you. All you could do after that was forcing yourself to smile reassuringly.

“Now go and help Rick find his family too.”

“You can't leave me here... Not like this. You can't, man. It's not human. Come on, don't do this!”

Merle’s voice was faint as you ran down the stairs with everyone else. Their names were blurry in your head, the adrenaline making you forget about everything but the fact that your life was hanging by a thread.

But Merle, oh, you would never forget his name.

He was the type of person you were afraid to run into, back when you were alone. You were glad Rick was there to put him in his place, even though that hadn’t shut him up.

Finding other survivors had its downside, you guessed, but not all of it was bad.

They told you that they had a camp, that they had people. The blonde woman’s younger sister was one of them, and they said they had children, too. Maybe it was too good to be true, but since Atlanta was overrun by walkers, then that was the best you had.

Walkers, that’s what they’d named them: because that’s all they did, they were the empty carcasses of what used to be a beautifully complex human being. They just walked, and bit, and killed.

You feared your sister was one of those, roaming around the city. That thought hadn’t left your mind since you first realized how bad things had gotten there. What if she had gone to Atlanta, seeking shelter, but found her death instead? You knew you had to get out of the situation you were in before you made any decisions. The camp didn’t seem like a bad idea, you could stay there temporarily and visit the city a few more times until you found her. Maybe even bring back supplies to thank everyone for letting you stay. That was if you made it, survival was still something new, something you had to train for.

Safety in numbers felt like your best shot.

You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings until you got inside the loading dock, your eyes were fixed in what was in front of you. A walker could’ve gotten you from your sides and you wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. You were lucky enough to get to safety.

So was T-Dog, who at last second caught up with you, right before you heard Rick banging on the door.

You sat next to the two women, hugging yourself with your trembling arms. You were agitated and couldn’t catch enough air to say what you knew everyone else wanted to say.

“Hey, T-Dog,” you moaned once you could stabilize your breath, “where’s Merle?” you almost barked the asshole’s name. He looked down to his knees.

“I dropped the damn key,” he growled, angry and ashamed.

“Well, shit.” You whispered, making sure nobody heard. Merle had it coming, that was clear, but T-Dog didn’t have to carry with the guilt of leaving a man to die just because he happened to be… the way he was.

“Best not to dwell on it. Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... except, maybe, Daryl.” One of the men commented. You lifted your head and locked your eyes with his, your heart starting to beat faster once again. If for some reason Merle had someone who cared for him, then they had to love him. That was a difficult man, the one you had met back there… It must've taken a huge amount of patience and devotion to want him around for more than a few hours.

If he actually had someone who cared for him, you were completely fucked.

“Daryl?” you hesitated to ask, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“His brother.”

The scenario was so beautiful it was truly unbelievable. You were stepping out of the dock when Rick’s drowned cry caught your attention. Looking forward, you saw a kid running to hug him, followed by a woman. You quickly figured out Rick had found his family, making your heart flutter. In the shithole you were in, you figured those things were a sight to be seen, something that didn’t happen every day, so you let yourself enjoy the view.

You knew Rick’s son was young, even younger than Duane, but seeing him there made you realize how fragile he was.

Innocent, scared, too little to live through those times. And for a second, you forgot that a few hours before you thought you had no purpose left. Not finding your sister, seeing how one of the biggest cities in the country had fallen… you had started to think that there was no use in trying so hard to survive when you had nobody left.

But there he was, Carl, and there were more kids in the camp. Maybe you could do more than just survive. Trying to help them live their lives with as little worry and concern as possible was better than giving up.

“Why on earth did you leave the apartment?!” A loud, high pitched scream echoed through the camp, and it didn’t take long for you to spot her, running to you.

Her. Mayra. Your sister.

When her body slammed into yours, you fell backward as you hugged her tight, trying not to let her go, as if she could slip away from your arms at any moment. You stayed on the ground trying to take in every detail you could. Her shaky breath, the way her hair felt on your skin, how her fingers were uncomfortably pressed between the ground and your shoulder blades. Her small cries as she tried to find the exact words to say.

“I was looking for you!”, at that point, you were sobbing, not even thinking about the people whose eyes wandered from Rick to you two.

“And I was about to go back home looking for you!” She cried, steadying her breath before standing back up. You followed her actions, your sight never leaving hers.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since it all started. Weeks, for sure. Months, too, although sometimes it felt like decades.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she scanned her surroundings, fear creeping in her. She put both of her hands on your shoulders and lightly shook her head, still searching for something, you couldn’t guess what.

“Did he die?” She questioned firmly. You didn’t answer, had someone else gone to Atlanta that hadn’t made it? Someone who died before you found the group? She couldn’t be talking about…

The entire world fell on top of you. You had just discovered your sister was alive and had also just found out you left someone she cared about behind. “Did Merle fucking die?!”

The fire warmed your legs and the frog legs tasted so, so good. You hadn’t eaten anything freshly cooked in such a long time, it felt unreal. You were focused on your food and on Rick’s story, it was the first time you heard him talk in-depth about what had happened. He seemed happy, and the bags under his eyes were more subtle. His entire demeanor had changed.

“They found me…” your sister’s voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. You had a conversation pending; one that the both of you decided to ignore so you could enjoy the feeling of being back together, “... the Dixons, I mean. Merle didn’t want me around, Daryl didn’t either, but he was too kind to let it show. Thank God we found the group, like, a couple of days after I joined them.” Her eyes were lost in the flames as she spoke. She knew it hadn’t been your fault, there was no way you would leave him on purpose. “But I was about to die, Y/N. I felt the walker’s teeth on my skin, it tore the fabric on my shoulder. I just accepted it, didn’t fight back, didn’t try to escape.” She looked at you, and you realized that nothing meant shit anymore… life at that moment was constantly being on the verge of dying and knowing that the people you loved could die at any moment, too. Nothing could ever go back to what it used to be. “And, then, a freaking arrow went through the walker’s head. Clean, just like that, and it fell on top of me. I had never seen death in first person, you know. I had lost my friends after a dozen of those creeps came out of nowhere, but I didn’t see them die, I just heard the screams.”

She was your little sister, you hated to hear her that way, so hopeless and surrendering to death.

“You’re safe now, these people know how to fight-” you stared, but she stopped you before you could finish.

“I know. But one of the men who saved my ass isn’t safe. Yes, he’s not the kindest, nicest, or most selfless man, but I owe him.” You knew that feeling too well. You owed Morgan and Duane, you owed Rick, and Glenn, and so many people. None of them had behaved the way Merle did, but not only Mayra owed him, you did too.

Nodding, you sighed and looked at her in the eyes, reassuring her you would do something to get him back, anything you could.

“Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?” Shane’s loud demand made you jump slightly. Your sister nudged you on your side with her elbow and signaled you to look at Ed. She had been suspicious about him and you both had talked about it a few hours back

“It’s cold, man.”

“Then join us or put it out, we don’t want to be seen…” you spoke, managing to sound as nice as you could. You didn’t want to start anything, but you knew how dangerous it could get. You had to avoid loud sounds and bright lights. But Ed, as expected, ignored you.

“Yeah, the cold doesn’t change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?” Shane continued.

“I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once.” Ed’s answer has was harsh, you could tell he would be hard to deal with, but not everything could be perfect in such a numerous and diverse group. Everyone had different stories to tell, some of them were more tragic than others.

Shane got up and walked steadfastly towards Ed and his family’s fire, “Hey, Ed... Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?”

“Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!” Ed bossed and his wife pulled the log out of the fire almost immediately, not questioning his husband’s command. It was sad and frustrating, but knowing that stepping in could cause the wife and the little girl to get hurt forced you to stay in your place. Shane seemed to be handling the situation. He was like some sort of leader in the camp, and he had been around those people for so much longer than you, he knew what to do. At least that’s what you told yourself in an attempt to find comfort.

You saw how Shane spoke to Ed’s wife and their daughter, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the group had started a conversation to fill in the silence.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” The man -whose name you learned was Dale- questioned, deciding to talk about the elephant in the room.

“I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” T-Dog’s shameful tone showed up once again.

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Rick followed. It couldn’t turn into a competition of who was brave enough, who was the most selfless, or who was willing to sacrifice themselves.

“We were all there, it’s not a competition, any of us could’ve done something-” You intervened, hoping you could bring into the conversation the fact that you were planning on going back, but Glenn interrupted you:

“I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” You hated it, but if Daryl was as bigoted as his brother, then Glenn was right.

“I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” T-Dog stated, completely convinced of facing the consequences.

“And we keep on making a competition out of this. We all should be there and say whatever we have to say.” You said in a determined tone. You were all responsible, one way or another.

“Look, Y/N… maybe I can tell him?” Mayra whispered as the rest kept on debating who should speak up.

“I don’t know how it could help…” You said back. Yes, Mayra knew him better than you, but she hadn’t been involved, she didn’t have to.

She opened her mouth to protest, but T-Dog’s words captured your interest instantly:

“My point... Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us.”

When the fire was out and everyone got into their tents, including your sister, you still sat on the same log as before. The scenario felt strange, almost unknown to you: outside at night, under the cloudy night sky, and still not unsafe. It had been so long since you felt immortal and undefeatable, just like any other girl your age felt... like nothing could happen to you, not ever. You missed it. But beautiful as that night was, the imminent danger thickened the air.

You felt your eyes growing heavier each second. You were ready to go to sleep, so you got up and started to walk to the tent you and Mayra would share, but the sight of someone on the roof of Dale’s RV made you stop on your tracks.

Shane was keeping watch, and you wondered if he did it each night, or how had they arranged the shifts. He looked tired and the look on his face was anything but friendly.

“Hey, want to switch?” You asked approaching the stairs and climbing up, not waiting for an answer. Once you got off the stairs, your eyes wandered through the trees and landed up in the sky. If he kept watch every night, then you knew why. The view wasn’t mesmerizing, you had seen more beautiful countless times before, but the air up there was lighter, and the breeze, soothing.

“Sorry ‘bout Ed today.” Shane ignored your question. You sat down next to the chair he was sitting in.

“Don’t be, he’ll pay for what he’s doing to his family someday. Soon, I hope.” You looked up and realized his eyes were lost somewhere in the horizon. He looked tired, and if you read more into it: defeated. “Go to sleep, I’ll stay. I want to.”

It came as a surprise to you: that was all he needed to hear. He didn’t protest, he got up, handed you the shotgun and left. You didn’t know if he would be able to get some sleep, at least he could try to.

But what you did know was that you weren’t suddenly concerned about the sleeping schedule of a man you had just met. You were desperately in need of being alone. Being around so many people was something you had only dreamt about, at least for the last weeks, and although you felt the luckiest you had ever felt, the safety you had found allowed you to put your feet back on the ground.

Everything had happened so fast. You almost died, and more than once. You met people, they saved you, you left one of them to die, you found out Mayra was alive and safe, Rick’s family was with her… and you still had to figure out how to break the news to Merle’s brother.

You were going back to the city, too, as if everything that had happened wasn’t enough. You’d do it for your sister, and for the men who saved her, as questionable as they were.

And suddenly, it clicked.

The bag. The guns.

You had to remind Rick. It could save the group from an attack from walkers, or from other people. That way you knew somebody else would go back with you and you would actually have a shot of coming back alive, even if they despised Merle.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up.”

You had just finished hanging some of your clothes to dry when an unbothered and loud voice caught everyone’s attention. From their wide eyes, you could tell who had just gotten back. Merle’s brother, Daryl, sounded, moved, and acted just like him. It wasn’t just the accent, but his words, how his presence made everyone uncomfortable… you could tell they were expecting him to snap as soon as he found out. Behind him, Shane and Rick looked and nodded to each other. You approached them, determined to be a part of it even if hell broke loose.

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there.” Rick got to the point with no rambling.

“We locked the door, he’s safe from walkers.” You dared to look at him in the eyes, but regretting it as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!”

“Yeah.” Rick stepped in front of you, and without skipping a beat, Daryl attacked Rick, who shoved him off.

You took a few steps back and spotted your sister, who was just getting out of the RV. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open as soon as she realized what was happening: Daryl, Shane, T-Dog and Rick were yelling at each other. She stood in her place, everyone in the camp knew well not to intervene. Shane had Daryl on a chokehold as Rick explained to him that he wanted to have a calm discussion, which seemed to force Daryl to give in. Shane let go of him.

“What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick kept going. At that point, you guessed nothing could actually calm Dixon, he was still breathing heavily.

“It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” T-Dog cut in.

“You couldn't pick it up?” Daryl snarled.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

“If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't.”

“Hey, I told you, the door’s chained with a padlock. There’s no way walkers could get to him.” You repeated, trying your best to be concise and get to the point: Merle was still out there.

“And who the fuck are you?” Daryl took a few steps forward and stared at you in the eyes. You weren’t scared, but it did take you by surprise. You stumbled back and raised your hands, putting them in between you.

“She’s my sister, Daryl!” Mayra’s shaky voice made him turn around. You couldn’t see his face, but hers was filled with heartbreak. She felt she had failed him, as if she had broken an unspoken promise. Daryl faced you again.

“Funny, huh? How I saved your sister but you left my brother to rot.” He growled. His voice low and irritated.

Your eyes jumped from Mayra to him. You straightened your body and took a deep breath. He was right. You felt miserable, and you couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Mayra, you knew you would have to do something as soon as she told you her story.

“I know, that’s why I’m going back there. With or without you.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon oneshot

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your-daily-dose-of-fandoms · 5 years

Note

Hello! Sorry for the weird request but I was wondering how the pillars would react to a demon slayer of Mexican decent, Mexico and japan have a long history together and was wondering how they would react to their s/o culture, food, language etc.. again thank you very much, love coming from Mexico City :)

*cracks knuckles* Time for some research! I hope this is accurate, and I hope you enjoy! This was really interesting request and one heck of a project, thank you. I got a little carried away, so I'm sorry if this is not to your liking. If not, please feel free to request again!^^

Pillars x Mexican! Reader

-Ever since some Asians, Japanese people along with them, moved to Mexico in the 17th and 18th century, the demon slayer corps started to spread their community there

-All of their materials were made in Japan, and transferred to Mexico, due to being located at the crossroads of trade

- During the disturbances and civil war in the early 20th century, right after the success in economy and period of peace, it became really unsafe in Mexic and your parents decided to take a flee to Japan with you to keep you safe

- Your father was part of the Demon Slayer corps, as well as you were, being the descendant of the Japanese people who had come to live in Mexico centuries ago. Due to the course of centuries, the japanese genes weren't that visible anymore, but they were still there

- Due to having connections to the Demon Slayer corps, Ubuyashiki was able to arrange you and your parents a place to stay at the headquarters until they'd find a place to stay

- Unknown to you, a curious pillar had just heard of you and your family..

Rengoku

🔥 He'd knock on your door as soon as you've had your room arranged and decorated

🔥 Would be bold about his curiosity, straight up starting to ask questions after he had introduced himself. Not that you'd mind though

🔥 The first question that would come up to his mind, would be how you understood Japanese

🔥 You would have to explain that you had your family's roots in Japan, and that the language was kept alive the whole time spent in Mexico. In other words, you were bilingual

🔥 You two would end up talking for the rest of the day and night. He'd ask all kinds of questions about your culture and habitat. Would be extremly interested in your traditional food

🔥 Eventually would ask you to cook for him

🔥 You were able to sneak some chocolate, and some beans and spices with you as your family fled, and you'd give him a taste of them

🔥You would try to make him some mole sauce, but it'd be hard due the lack of ingredients you'd have

🔥 He would be absolutely crazy about chocolate

🔥 Before you could notice, he'd have eaten all of it, even though you took it with you to last for several months

🔥 As they say, way to man's heart is through his stomach

🔥 Anyways, he would be super curious about you, and quickly take liking to you

Obanai

🐍 He wouldn't come talk to you, until on the day after your family had been introduced to the pillars by Ubuyashiki

🐍 You would have to be the one to initiate, and you probably would, as snakes would remind you of Mexico

🐍 Suddenly he'd find you petting one of his snakes, and instead of them biting you, they would actually let you pet them

🐍 He'd be S H O O K

🐍 And that's how you two became friends

🐍 I'd like to think he'd love to listen to you talk in your native language, especially if it was Spanish. He'd be absolutely astounded to hear you speak to your parents in your native language for the first time

🐍 He wouldn't ask much, but he would enjoy listening to your stories about Mexico, frowning his eyebrows whenever you'd mention wars and disturbances

🐍 Is actually glad that you're safe now

🐍 Wouldn't admit it, but he'd kind of become your silent body guard, getting offended and giving a silent treatment to anyone who dared to treat you wrong

Muichiro

🌫 One day, you'd find a boy taking a nap behind your door

🌫 Turns out he was about to come and find out more about you, but as you hadn't been in your room, he had fallen asleep and forgotten all about it

🌫 Would be so confused as he'd wake up in unfamiliar room to the smell of something delicious

🌫 You didn't dare to wake the poor boy up, so instead, you had carried him to your room and took out some chocolate to give him when he'd wake up

🌫 He'd fall in love with chocolate, you'd find him at 3am, in your room, craving for chocolate

🌫 You would often have evening chats, as he'd sneak into your room, lay his head on your lap and ask you about Mexico

🌫 One day, he'd shyly ask for you to sing to him in Spanish

🌫 Your heart would melt

🌫 Oh god he's doing the puppy eyes, isn't he

🌫 Before you'd know it, it would become your evening tradition to sing him mexican lullabies and songs, as most of the time he'd fall in asleep on your lap, and you'd have to carry him to his room

🌫 Most of the time you were too lazy to and ended up just cuddling with him

Mitsuri

💕 At first, she'd be shy, and just stare you in curiousity half of the time from across the room

💕 And for the first time in mankind's history, her stare technique would actually work, and you'd notice her

💕 It would take a while to make her open up, but when you'd manage to do that, she'd be asking questions all the time

💕 Trust me, she'd question you about the literature, myths and arts to the point where you'd have to ask your parents for more information

💕 She'd be blushing all the time when you'd talk, she'd just love hearing your accent, and see you so enthuastic about something

💕 After hearing about the wars and disturbances, she'd let out a cry and hug you tightly, being glad that you'd be safe now

💕 Her curiousity would make you feel so special, she'd somehow get her hands on some chocolate to share with you whenever you'd be feeling down

Uzui

🎵 He'd be the first to talk to you after Ubuyashaki would have introduced your family to the pillars

🎵 He'd be ready to show around some places, and at the same time he'd have small talk with you

🎵 I mean, he'd probably be hella curious, since there rarely were any outsiders in Japan, but due to having three wives, he knew his ways around women

🎵 I feel like he'd be more interested in Mexico's traditional clothing and music

🎵 As you'd complain someday how uncomfortable a kimono feels on you, he'd probably ask someone to sew you your own huipil

🎵 He'd ask help from your parents to make an accurate one

🎵 You would love it, and probably wear it especially when you'd miss home

🎵 He'd also probably pay for someone to make you proper mexican instruments if he'd learn that you play something -This man just has too much money laying around

🎵 You'd often play mexican music to him and his wives, as you'd have a drink or two and teach them some mexican dances

Shinobu

🦋 On the evening when you'd had arranged your room, she'd knock on your door and ask to come in

🦋 She'd bring you some tea, and the two of you would have a nice little chat

🦋 Or little wouldn't be an understanding, more like you two talked for the whole night

🦋 Don't talk about wars to her, it'd just make her sad even though she wouldn't admit it

🦋 She'd be asking a lot about holidays in Mexico, and she'd be interested in the day of the death. She'd like the idea of it

🦋 As the day of the death would come, she'd secretly arrange your family a little party with the help of the other pillars

🦋 You'd be so moved, that you'd probably start to cry. She'd scoop you up in her embrace, and tell you to enjoy the night. The two of you would visit her sister's grave together

🦋 I feel like she'd be interested in Mexican mythology too, not because she really cares about it, but because she loves to see your face light up when you'd tell all these amazing stories and myths

Sanemi

🌪 Wouldn't probably be interested in you the slightest at first

🌪 However, he'd catch your attention, since you were into fighting

🌪 Come on, what did you expect, when your own father was a demon slayer and boxing was popular in your country? For your whole life, you've watched people fight, it was part of you

🌪 You would often watch him train, and sometimes give him chocolate during the short breaks he was taking

🌪 He wouldn't eat it, and he would never admit it, but he stored all of the chocolate you had given to him, and took some for him from there from time to time. Rengoku once found his storage, and he had to change the place of it

🌪 However, once he heard you talking about Mexican wars to Rengoku, one beautiful day, you'd end up having him sit next to you under the cherry blossom tree and demand to know more about them

🌪 Would act all though, and be one heck of a tsundere, but would actually enjoy your talks, and whenever you weren't there watching him to train, he'd notice he'd have less motivation

🌪 At times when you'd feel like making a dEaTh WiSh you would train with him

🌪 You two would end up getting a daily routine of you at first watching him to train, and then you telling about the stories you've heard from your dad of wars and stuff while eating chocolate

Gyomei

🗿 To be honest, he would be really on the alert at first. But he'd try to push his doubts away and make a small talk with you

🗿 Somehow, you two would end up talking about Mexican religions. And turns out, he'd be really interested in them

🗿 You two would end up having hours lasting meaningful chat about the meaning of life and different religions

🗿 Surprisingly, after that, you'd have his whole trust

🗿 Would also be curious about Mexican literature, and sometimes you'd end up reading him a Mexican book, translating it to Japanese as you'd read. It'd be one hell of a work, but your Japanese skills would improve so much that soon no one would even notice that you're not a native Japanese speaker. Your accent gives it away though

🗿 You two would totally end up crying after your favorite character together

Giyuu

🌊 After he'd hear that your father and you are demon slayers, he'd get curious

🌊 He probably didn't know that there was demon slayers in the other countries too

🌊 He'd get more and more curious, but you would have to be the one to initiate

🌊 One night you'd see him sitting on a roof, probably meditating, as you'd climb up, curious of what was he doing

🌊 You two would end up having a small chat. He wouldn't ask much, but he would listen when you would tell about the demon slayer corps in Mexico

🌊 He'd be curious, you could see it from his eyes, so you would keep on explaining, now knowing that listening wouldn't bother him at all

🌊 You'd also end up explaining about Mexican boxing, and other stuff like that, and he'd get more and more comfortable around you

🌊 Sometimes he'd ask questions about the topic, but usually he'd just stay silent, watching you to get excited about the current topic

🌊 You'd probably end up finding him meditating on that roof more often after that, and it would become a nightly habit of yours to go talk to him, which'll cause you to be tired all the time

🌊 It is worth it tho

🌊 Even though he wouldn't admit it, he now never meditates somewhere else, as he likes the chats you two have

327 notes · View notes

wonderrdies · 5 years

Text

fine line

summary: Boy and girl meet. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl live happily ever after. Except boy is Harry Styles and even when love comes easy, it doesn’t come simple.

disclaimer: this is my first harry fic ever so... how terrifying. also, it is pure self-indulgent garbage and I Frankenstein-ed the shit out of it a dozen times so y’all are gonna have to forgive me. let’s do this. (btw thank you to @hsogolden for this challenge; there’s nothing quite like a goal that makes you force yourself to write)

warnings: some fluff, some angst, a tiny bit of smut and a whole lotta nonsense.

word-count: about 6,000 words

“Come on,” She yells up the stairs. “Daddy’s here!”

“Coming!” the four-year-old yells back, sock-clad feet hitting the stairs with a muffled thud.

“Jamie,” Harry calls, not as loud as they are. He knows his son can’t see him, but surely he can hear his voice; it’s not the biggest of houses. “Don’t run down the stairs. It’s dangerous.”

A quiet and frustrated okay, Daddy is heard in the background, and both the adults smile softly. Jamie’s a cute kid.

“I’m dropping him off at my mum’s and I’ll be back in a couple of hours, okay?”

She raises an eyebrow. “It’s Tuesday night. Don’t you have a song to write or whatever?”

“Can’t really miss my girl’s birthday, can I?”

She laughs, surprised, and the sound of it reminds Harry of the shy girl he met at a bar all those years ago. “It’s not my birthday yet, H.”

“Still,” Harry takes a second to look behind her and check on their son, who’s putting on his shoes while his backpack and a few toys are scattered around him. “Need any help, mate?”

Jamie mutters an agreement so She shifts in the door to let Harry in, and his own face stares back at him from a bunch of family pictures all over the shelves. He kneels beside his child and starts mindlessly tying his shoelaces, turning his attention back to her.

“You should dress up.”

“Harry,” she scoffs. “Is that an insult?”

“Nope,” he pops the p just as he finishes with Jamie’s shoes. “Get your stuff, Jamie. Let’s go see Nana.”

“Can we get milkshakes?”

“Sure, mate,” but She’s glaring at him. “Tomorrow, when it’s not so late, though.”

“But Daddy—”

“Tomorrow, baby.” She interrupts. With a kiss on their son’s brown curls, she says: “Go wait for Daddy in the car. And behave at your Nana’s. I love you.”

Jamie walks away with a “Love you, Mommy”, stuffed kitten under one of his arms and his half-closed backpack hanging on the other. Harry bends over to pick up his other toys but She stops him with a gesture. “Don’t bother, H. I’ll clean it up once you’re gone.”

“I was gonna take them with us.”

“It’s just one night, he won’t miss them,” She pauses. “Too much.”

“Guess mum will just have to entertain him, then,” he drops the toys on the couch and smiles at her. “Be ready, huh? I’ll text you when I’m near.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“Let’s get a drink. For old time’s sake.”

She nods, looking suspicious. Then his fingertips brush her cheek and her eyes soften.

“Let’s just not get wasted on a school-night, okay?”

“We’ll be alright, love,” he says, kissing the soft cheek he just touched. It feels like home against Harry’s lips.

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

7 years earlier…

Harry doesn’t notice her for a while. They’re both sitting at the bar counter, only one empty stool between the two of them, but the lighting is dim and the girl looks as closed off as one can get; stiff posture and hair hanging over her face while she stares straight ahead into the liquor shelf behind the bartender. Up until that point, she could be furniture for all he cares.

Tonight, up until that point, he had been reveling in his loneliness. Harry wasn’t one to enjoy being alone much, but after months of touring, family holidays, and being surrounded by more people than he can even imagine at any given time, he got the appeal of listening to his own thoughts for a while. Even if it made him a little restless after a few weeks of it. Even if he caught himself with his mouth open, about to make a random remark on the cute bartender or the questionable music at least twice. Even if he bounced his leg nonstop and grabbed his phone every five minutes, pondering on who to call for company.

So maybe he wasn’t reveling in the loneliness anymore. But he had dressed as ordinarily as humanly possible without wearing jeans (there were no pearls or high-heeled boots in sight) and was drinking beer instead of a Cosmo, blending in. He had to make the most of it. What could he tell himself that he didn’t already know? Maybe, Harry thought, I’m just not that interesting. If he couldn’t stand to spend half an hour hanging out with himself, had people been lying to him? He could feel the spiraling begin.

And then his song starts playing.

At the sound of his voice coming from the speakers, she turns her head. Her hair moves away with the movement, the corner of her lips twitching as if she’s about to smile. She doesn’t, but that’s when Harry notices her. The girl’s mouth moves and he’s pretty sure that if he were just a little bit closer, there’d be a faint whisper of stop your crying, baby, it’s a sign of the times. He wishes he could hear it.

He continues to shoot sideway glances, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by staring. He’s not sure he wants to be noticed, either. She’s a pretty girl singing along to one of his songs; there are many of those. He doesn’t really want to make a scene. But then again, what’s the chance that this woman won’t turn her head at all for however long they’re there?

Before he can worry about that answer, it happens. The bartender is cleaning the end of the counter to Harry’s right, and she shifts to order another drink. As soon as she does, their eyes meet. It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing a baseball hat or a beige knitted sweater and black slacks, she knows he’s Harry Styles. The more the thinks about it, the more self-conscious he becomes. Of course he’s hiding something; who wears that kind of outfit to a bar?

“Hey,” he softly says. He’s not sure how this will go, but so far it feels better than trying to entertain himself. Better than wondering.

Her hand shakes around the glass, empty except for the lime and melting ice, but her voice doesn’t quiver. “Hello.”

“Can I get your drink for you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s fine,” he calls over the bartender. “Can we get another of what she’s having? And a Cosmo.”

What the hell, he figures. It’s not like any of the few middle-aged people in tables around them will see a pink cocktail and suddenly wonder “Isn’t that…?”. Either they recognize him or don’t. When the bartender nods, he turns back to her.

“You’re not from here, are you?”

She shakes her head no.

“America?”

“Not the United States, no.”

He’s about to guess Canada, even if her accent doesn’t sound like that at all, and make a fool out of himself when she says: “I’m not a native English speaker. I teach English back home.”

“Really!” his excitement is the first thing to get a smile out of her. It kinda throws him off for a second; it comes and goes quickly, but her whole face changes around it. Looking away for a second, he notices that their drinks are about to be ready. “Can I —” Harry gestures to the stool between them.

The girl nods, and he comes closer. Their knees touch when he sits.

“Are you here for work?”

“No,” the side of her mouth twitches again. “What about you?”

“I’m home. Just taking some time off.”

“At this time of the year? Sounds like a cool job.”

It’s a bad joke, but he plays into it anyway. “Meh,” Harry shrugs. “It pays the bills.”

“Good for you,” she laughs quietly. “I got this trip for my birthday.”

“Well, happy birthday!”

“It’s not today.”

The bartender places their drinks on the counter, the liquid sloshing around a bit, and a little bit of her gin and tonic spills over her hand. “God,” the bartender says. “Sorry, I’ll get—”

“Don’t worry,” she smiles as if to say it’s okay. Then she licks the back of her hand and then her lips. Harry moves uncomfortably in his seat.

“So,” he says once the bartender leaves, taking a sip of his Cosmopolitan. Way better than that shitty beer. “Am I the first or last person to wish you a happy birthday?”

“First. I’ll turn twenty-two in two days.”

“It was an honor to get it wrong, then.”

“Not very subtle, are you?”

He blushes. Actually blushes.

There’s a silent beat where she seems torn between laughing awkwardly or just straight up bolting out of the room, but the girl settles on chugging her cocktail while Harry stutters.

“I’m —” they start at the same time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t —” he stops himself from saying he didn’t mean to flirt. He did mean to flirt. Harry just didn’t mean to be so shit at it. So he settles for: “I just noticed you singing along.”

She brings her drink back to her lips, as if asking for some time to think of what to say, but half a cocktail isn’t enough to hide her smile. He’s staring so intently that she tips the glass towards him and genuinely asks “Do you want a sip?”

Harry just shakes his head no.

“Um, yeah,” the girl starts. “I’m a big fan of yours— your work, I guess.”

“Did you go to any of the shows last year?”

“I couldn’t,” she admits. “But I’ve seen some videos. You looked like you were having fun.”

The comment makes him smile. “I really was. Where are you from? Didn’t I go to your country?”

He realizes then that he sounds pretentious. Maybe she just didn’t want to go to the fucking concert; why is he questioning this stranger as if she’s missed his sweet sixteen? Maybe she’s not even a fan and just heard his single on the radio once. God, what a disaster.

The girl looks embarrassed, like she can’t believe she’s telling him this but won’t shy away from speaking. She tells him the name of her country and explains that she doesn’t live anywhere near the big cities where he played, so she couldn’t afford the trip.

“But if you’re ever passing by again…”

“I’ll let you know,” he says. She laughs quietly, but Harry isn’t really joking. He can see himself texting a nice girl and asking her to come and watch him sing. He’s certainly more impressive up on the stage than here, doing whatever it is that he’s doing right now. “Are you traveling by yourself?”

She hesitates to answer and it makes him cringe. “I sounded like a creep, didn’t I? Jesus. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”

“Don’t worry about it,” and there it is again, the wide smile that changes her face. Out of all the things Harry Styles could do to charm a woman, acting socially inept isn’t the one he figured would win over a foreign English teacher that hangs out at random London bars for middle-aged couples on awkward dates. But here they are and the more he fucks up, the more she looks relaxed.

Harry decides to take what he can get. “I guess I haven’t been getting enough practice talking to strangers lately.”

She’s still smiling, not as wide but just as bright. “I’d probably want a break from people too if I were you. I got here yesterday and I’m already done talking to strangers. I knew it’d be hard to get around in another continent but this is a whole other level; I can’t walk two meters without asking someone for directions.”

He raises an eyebrow, teasing. “Is Google Maps not doing it for you?”

“Shut up,” she chuckles. “Data is expensive abroad, y’know? But to be honest, I’m so fucking obtuse when it comes to maps. The thing is pointing one way and the next I know, I walked miles in the opposite direction. It’s much easier to have an actual person telling me where to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, licking his lips after finishing his drink. He sees her eyes flicker down to his mouth for a second, just like his did a few minutes ago. “You have a point.”

“I do?”

“Not really. I just didn’t want you to feel bad about being a confused old lady.”

That makes her laugh, and Harry feels his heart skip a beat. It’s nice to know she thinks he’s funny.

“But you can’t really be a confused old lady, right? Being a teacher and all.”

Like she said, not subtle at all. But he wants to know more about her.

“Bold of you to assume that most teachers are not confused old ladies, but,” she too finishes her second cocktail, pushing her empty glass away from her and closer to the one Harry just left on the counter. “I’m just a confused masters-student trying to look less confused so my students won’t give me shit about it.”

“Do you like it? The whole academic thing and teaching.”

Her smile is soft around the edges, and he can see the drinks catching up to her. “They have their moments, both working hard to understand the things I’m interested in and helping people learn another language. It’s all hard but worth it,” she’s quiet for a second. “Like most things in life, I guess. What about you?”

“Do I like being an academic?”

She rolls her eyes. “Your job, silly. Is it hard but worth it?”

“I guess it’s like yours in the sense that it helps me understand the thing I’m interested in, too.”

“Music?”

“Me,” he answers, and there is that laugh again.

“God,” she says, voice dripping with good-humored sarcasm. “I hate rockstars so much.”

“Don’t we all?” he sees her staring at their empty glasses, so he offers to buy her another drink even though she looks sleepy. Harry figures he’ll drop her off wherever she’s staying so she doesn't have to walk around alone and drunk.

“I don’t think I can do another one,” she says. “But maybe we could share it? I can definitely deal with half a drink. And I’ll pay for it.”

Before he can say anything, she calls the bartender over and orders another Cosmo on her tab.

“You didn’t have to,” he says, referring both to paying and asking for a cocktail she knows he likes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he thinks it’s probably the fifth time she’s said that in not even an hour. Huh. “God, isn’t it stuffy in here?”

He doesn't think so, so it’s probably the alcohol, but he agrees while she shakes off her coat. When the girl turns so she can hang the fabric over her bar stool, Harry can see, among other quotes and drawings on her arm, the words sweet creature above her right elbow.

“Nice tattoo,” he comments, feeling weirdly proud. It’s not like he doesn’t know hundreds of people get the words he sings on their bodies, but this is different. It’s like trying to know more about someone and realizing, somehow, you already do.

“Which one?” she asks. He reaches out and brushes his fingers over it. It gives her goosebumps. “Oh. It’s a nice song.”

“Why did you get it?”

It makes him feel like an annoying interviewer, trying to get a meaningful answer that isn’t necessarily there. But he’d still like to hear what she has to say.

“I’ve heard I’m not one of those,” is her answer. His hand drops from her elbow.

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been told I’m not the sweetest creature,” the smile is gone. She shifts in her seat as if just realizing an old bruise is still tender to the touch.

Before he can decide between asking more about it and risk her thinking he’s a nosy asshole or just give his uninformed opinion and claim that’s bullshit, a Cosmopolitan is put on the bar between them.

“Thank you,” she says to the bartender. He’d thank them too, but he’s staring at that suddenly serious face, wondering what else is there to know about that tattoo. About her.

“Doesn’t it become a reminder, though?” Harry asks, and she looks back at him, not understanding the question. “The tattoo. Doesn’t it remind you that someone feels that way about you?”

“Yeah, I guess” she takes a sip of the drink and slides it over to him, their fingers touching in the process; it’s only for a second, and her hand is gone before Harry can understand why he wishes it wasn’t. “But I got it so, when I think of how he saw me, I would know I’m the one who gets to say what I am or am not.”

Harry is curious but doesn’t really know what to say to that, and it shows. She cringes.

“I always do this, you know? I drink and start getting all sad and telling people about all sorts of stuff no one wants to know. I’m sorry, Harry.”

It’s the first time he’s heard say his name. It sounds good on her accent.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, and it makes her smile because she realizes he’s been paying attention.

They share one more drink, and Harry pays for the third Cosmo of the night. By the time they’re finished with it, both of them are giggling and he has one of his hands on her bare knee. After the slightly-awkward oversharing, she proceeded to point out how a couple on the dark corner of the bar seemed, judging by their uncomfortable silence and resentful faces, to be on the brink of divorce. Harry asked her, mostly joking, if she had been around a lot of divorcing couples; she chuckled and then commented on how a dude sitting by the restrooms was probably fingering his girlfriend under the table. She never said no or proved to know about his family by asking him the same thing back.

But now the whole divorce thing was long forgotten. She and Harry had spent the last hour making up the most obnoxious stories about other customers and whispering them to each other, bodies getting closer and closer every minute.

“You know what I want?” she mutters. Between being shorter than Harry and slouching on her seat, her lips don’t reach his ear, so he can feel her breath on the side of his neck. He shivers.

“What?” he asks in the same low tone, eyes glittering with mischief and tipsiness.

Her left hand grips his bicep while she practically purrs: “I really want a milkshake.”

From the way his drunken-self gasps and moans God, yes, she might as well have said that she really wanted to suck his dick.

They pay for their drinks, shared or otherwise, and leave the bar. There aren’t many people out on the street at 1 a.m, but Harry still pulls his hat down a little.

“So,” she says. “Should I get us an uber? Where do British people get milkshakes? Is it far?”

“I’ll just call a driver.”

She looks taken aback. “Like a private one?”

Harry nods. “He’ll be here in a minute.”

And he is. She stumbles into the car along with Harry, sluggishly laying her head on his shoulder after closing the door.

“You didn’t tell me your name,” he murmurs against her hair.

So she does.

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

Between dinner, a few drinks and all the talking, they had already broken the not-staying-out-too-late rule. Turns out that rehashing a few days’ worth of parenting, teaching and music producing is time consuming even when you’re not having this much fun.

“One more?” Harry asks, pointing to her empty gin and tonic glass, the shadow of laughter still on his lips after a solid fifteen minutes of her getting progressively more aggravated about a student that “couldn’t, to save his own life, make anyone believe he read The Color Purple”.

“Yeah,” she says. “Share it with me?”

“Sure, love.”

He orders another cocktail, and She smiles at him even while thanking the waitress.

“What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” She replies, still staring shamelessly. It’s easy after all these years. “You just look really good.”

“So do you.”

She shrugs, and before he can say that she really does look beautiful and that he wishes he could prove to her just how much he thinks so (which is a cheap but sure way of making her blush), the waitress places the new cocktail between them.

“God, that was fast,” She mumbles, impressed.

After She takes the first sip, they both start at the same time. “So—”

They giggle, but since She begins sipping again, Harry speaks.

“We’ll both have a couple of months off during the summer, so I was thinking… You could go home.”

“Yeah, I should start planning once the semester ends, I’m just so—” She sighs, and Harry understands.

“I figured you could go and spend the first few weeks, or even the first month, back home while Jamie and I do our thing.” She looks like she’s about to interrupt him, so he holds up a hand as if asking her to wait. “Hear me out. You go home, spend time with your family or your old friends or, y’know, yourself, because — and don’t even fight me on this — I know you need your alone time. And after you’ve had your break, we’ll meet you there and hang out until you need to get back to prepare for next semester and I need to sort things out for the tour. You can even go somewhere else by yourself before going home or we could do a family thing before coming back to the UK if you and Jamie want to. How does that sound?”

She doesn’t say a thing, doesn’t even smile. She just keeps looking at him while sliding the gin and tonic glass across the table so he can have his share. Harry takes two big gulps and waits for her to speak.

“I don’t—” She stops herself. “You thought of it all, didn’t you?”

“I tried,” he laces his fingers through hers. “So you wouldn’t have to. But, y’know, it’s just an idea. And I thought it’d be better if I brought it up early so we could plan everything properly and, in case you didn’t want help paying for them, the plane tickets wouldn’t cost you an arm and a leg.”

Still silent, She looks down at their joint hands.

“Thank you, H.”

“I didn’t do anything, love.”

He touches her chin so that She’ll look him in the eyes.

“I love you,” Harry whispers.

She doesn’t have to say it too. He knows.

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

6 years earlier…

“Hey, love,” Harry whispers from the other side of the phone call. “How are things?”

She smiles a tired smile up at her dark ceiling at the sound of his voice. “Things are…” The smile fades, replaced by a shaky sigh. “Things are fine, H.”

She means things are like they have been for as long as she can remember. Difficult. A shit-paying job where she feels like a failure most of the time, too much school work, family drama and all sorts of friendship insecurities. There are good days of course, but today just isn’t one of them. She didn’t want to ruin his call, the only silver lining of the night, by complaining. So things are fine.

“What about you? Is everything good over there?”

“Everything’s great. Had some really good wine earlier today, reminded me of you. You would’ve loved it.”

“Bet you were in a villa, feeling the breeze on your hair, staring at a gorgeous canal or some fancy shit like that,” she jokes.

Harry laughs. “Yeah,” is his answer.

Oh.

“I kinda wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

“About what?”

She sits up on the bed, her room quiet except for the shifting of her body over the clothes she took off but didn’t bother to fold before laying down after work.

“You should come,” he answers on the phone.

“What?”

“To Italy.”

“Baby—”

“Come on, love. You always wanted to travel here. Come meet me.”

“Harry,” she sighs. “You’re insane.”

She can picture his face falling just by the sound of his voice. “Why?”

“It’s the middle of September; I’m working, I’m studying. I can’t even afford it. Do you need any more reasons?”

Harry sounds frustrated when he answers, and it brings tears to her eyes. So much for a silver lining. “You can take a day or two off, right? Or just stay the weekend. You know I’ll pay for your flight.”

“Baby,” she takes a deep breath, trying to not let her annoyance show. “I’m almost finished with my master’s; I won’t get it done by missing classes. And yes, you’ll pay for my flight, but that’s not the only expense that goes into traveling and I won’t depend on your money. You know this. We can go when there’s a holiday here. Or mid-December, when the semester is over. I’ll have saved some money by then. I love you for thinking of me but… I can’t, H. Not now.”

He mumbles something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I didn’t hear you,” but she knows he did it on purpose. “Can you say that again, please?”

“I said you’re making up excuses.”

‘You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I’m serious! You won’t even try.”

“How am I supposed to try? Either I can or can’t go. And I can’t.”

“You won’t even consider it,” his voice is filled with disappointment. It makes her blood boil.

“Harry, you sound like a child. Listen to me. Even if I went only for the weekend, I’d waste almost an entire day flying back and forth. We wouldn’t even have twenty-four hours together.”

“Don’t you think that sounds better than not being together at all?”

“I bet it does sound better for you, sitting your ass in a gondola, eating your rich-people cheese with your snobby friends, thinking of lyrics about fucking a girl that second-guesses putting you before herself while said girl is out there, flying to you so she can have a hug and a kiss and pretend that everything is fine.”

She’s crying by the time she stops talking, and she knows he can hear it. While she sobs, mostly angry but also starting to regret saying anything at all, he doesn’t say a thing. He could have stopped breathing altogether, considering how quiet the other end of the line is.

“Harry?” she half-pleads, half-scolds. “Talk to me!”

“I’m sorry,” his voice is uncertain, like he can’t quite figure out what to say and how to say it. “I guess I— I miss you. I’m being a prick.”

The weigh on her chest doesn’t go away with the apology, because she doesn’t know if he understands. And she just called his friends snobby and said she pretends to be happy. God. But she can’t say she’s sorry too because she won’t stop crying. She’s just so tired.

“Love,” Harry says, firmly this time. “Don’t cry, it’s okay. Have some sleep. Drink some water. We’ll talk properly tomorrow.”

“No,” she hiccups into the phone. “Wait. I’m—”

“We’ll talk, I promise,” she thinks he’ll hang up then when he hesitates, but he speaks again. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

The line goes dead. She cries herself to sleep.

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

"God," he pants against her bruised neck.

“What?” She teases. “Are you getting too old for this?”

“Shut up,” Harry laughs, still breathless. “I’m barely in my mid-thirties.” He pushes the sheets away and gets up, looking down at her naked body sprawled across the bed; if he wasn’t so tired, he’d be horny again. “Want some water?”

“Yeah. Thanks, baby.”

He walks out of the bedroom wearing absolutely nothing, which is one of the perks of a child-free house. By the time he’s back with their water, She’s wearing his teal button-up and brushing her teeth, messy natural hair framing her face.

“H,” she calls from the suite’s bathroom, speech slurred because of the toothbrush. She spits before continuing, “Can you sing me a song?”

Harry chugs his water and lays back on the bed, waiting for her without saying a word.

“Can you?” She asks again, climbing on the bed in all fours, hovering over him. “Can you?” A whisper against his mouth. But when he leans over for a kiss, she falls to the bed, suddenly grinning, and hugs his side. “Come on.”

“Such a tease,” he mumbles, already hugging her back and tangling his legs with hers.

Harry starts singing quietly, voice still a little rough even after the water, and he can feel her smiling lips against his chest.

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you…

“How romantic,” she says quietly once he’s done.

“That’s me, only doing the best for my girl” he says smugly, which makes her laugh, but then he turns serious. “I love you, you know?”

“Love you too, H.”

Harry takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you a question?”

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

5 years earlier…

The paparazzi call her name on screen. There are not many of them, but it disturbs Harry nonetheless; three or four photographers outside a restaurant, just waiting for her and yelling at her once she walks out the door. She looks nervous in a way Harry can imagine other people not noticing, fidgeting hands and a fast walk. But her face is serious and dismissive while she walks straight ahead.

“Are you Harry Styles’ new girlfriend?” one of them asks from behind the camera.

Harry pauses the video, telling himself he needs to ask someone on his team how the hell they found out who she is just by a blurry picture taken through his car window a few days ago when she’s not even on social media, which is true. But he’s also not sure he wants to hear her answer. He checks the time under the video; it was posted less than an hour ago. He should call her and ask if everything’s okay, but he just presses play again.

“No,” she answers right away. Harry feels like he’s sinking.

Why the fuck did they not discuss this before she moved to England? What was he thinking when he resisted PR’s involvement? They should’ve planned for this, coordinated answers, made up their minds so he wouldn’t feel sucker-punched and she wouldn’t be thrusted into the spotlight with no warning.

“You were in his car last Monday!” someone says, as if telling her she’s a liar.

She doesn’t bother responding to that. They keep calling her name.

“What are you and Harry, then?”

She’s almost down the subway’s stairs and there’s not many seconds left in the video, so he’s not too worried about what happens next. Harry looks at his phone, expecting her to disappear from the frame so he can text her and ask her to come over so they can talk, so he can hold her and make sure she’s not freaking out. But she slows down, considering the person’s question. She turns her head to a camera somewhere to the right of the video he’s watching, curls falling down the side of her face.

Matter-of-factly, with amused eyes but no smile, she says: “Soulmates.” And then she’s down the stairs and the video ends.

Harry stays very still. Text notifications appear over and over, more than one person saying the same thing: apparently they found her on her university’s website, where she’s listed as a doctoral student. He doesn’t open the messages, though; doesn’t even breathe until there’s a knock at the door.

Everyone else just rings the bell or asks to be buzzed in. It’s her.

Harry walks to the door, bare feet sliding on the wooden floors, and opens it. She’s standing in front of him dressed in the same black skirt and pink sweater from the video, hair messy around her serious face.

“H,” she starts. The sound of her voice relieves most of the pressure in his chest. “I—”

He doesn’t let her finish; just kisses her like he would kiss a soulmate. She steps forward, dropping her bag and closing the door with one hand while the other busies itself holding onto the soft cotton of Harry’s worn T-shirt, the feeling of his tongue against hers making her dizzy.

They stumble into the couch, her hips sitting on top of his, breathing heavily against each other’s lips. Harry takes longer than necessary stripping her of her sweater, gripping every inch of exposed skin as if he could keep it to himself. “Harry,” She whispers, asking him to hurry. The pink fabric falls to the floor and his right hand instantly pulls at her hair, her back arching so he can get one of her nipples on his mouth. “Harry,” She breathes out again, tortured, and a careless move of her hips makes them both gasp. The hand that’s not tangled in her hair squeezes her tight so hard they’re both sure it’ll bruise.

“Lay back,” he says before sucking on her other nipple, teeth grazing her skin and making her grind into him with more purpose. Despite his words, Harry doesn’t move so she can do what he’s telling her to. “I want to—” he bites her shoulder, hard, “see if—” sucks a mark into the side of her breast, “you can move like that on my face.”

She moans at his words, his mouth, his hand on her hair, tightening by the second.

“No,” she licks her lips, but never finishes the thought. Her hand drops to the one he has on her tight and squeezes it. “Can you—”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, letting go of her thigh. His hand disappears beneath her skirt, and she can feel him pushing her panties out of the way. He swipes a finger against her so lightly she can barely feel it. “Is that what you want?”

“More.”

She lifts her hips, trying to get more friction on his hand. “Come on.”

Harry slides one finger into her, then another. Her mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and she feels like she’s stopped breathing altogether once he fucks into her fast and hard, thumb brushing against her clit.

“Kiss me,” she whimpers, riding his fingers frantically, the sweat dripping down her torso sticking to Harry’s T-shirt.

Their mouths meet at the same time he squeezes a third finger into her. She moans against his lips and holds his waist under his clothes, seemingly undecided between tugging at his shirt or his belt.

“H, let me,” she murmurs the words into his lips, still pulling at his clothes.

“No,” he sounds as wrecked as she does, which is saying a lot. “Cum for me first.”

Harry stops moving his hand, tries to tease her, but she barely seems to notice, moving so desperately that he hits all the right places without even trying. With a sob, she squeezes tight around his fingers and rides out her high while clinging to Harry for dear life.

Her head falls to his shoulder, face hiding behind her hair and in his neck.

“Good?” he asks, voice raspy, wiping his soaked fingers on the side of his pants.

She doesn’t say anything for a second, just breathing hard into his skin, then sobs again. Not with pleasure.

“Love?” Harry questions in worry. “What’s wrong?”

Her body starts to shake in his arms, tears mixing with the sweat on his T-shirt’s collar. He calls her name, scared out of his mind with what this could mean. Did she come here to say she couldn’t do this anymore? He didn’t let her say a thing before kissing her. He should’ve listened, should’ve waited, should’ve asked her what ‘soulmate’ meant when it couldn’t mean ‘girlfriend’.

“I’m sorry,” she hiccups, hugging him closer even though there’s not any space between their bodies.

“What are you sorry for?” he asks quietly.

“I know this is freaking you out. I just—” and then she’s sobbing again.

“Talk to me,” Harry begs.

“I love you so much, H,” he could feel the but at the end of the sentence.

“I love you too…” he swallows before asking, “Is this about the photographers? Are you upset they were around? ‘Cause we can fix that.”

She looks up at him, the tip of their noses touching. With furrowed brows and swollen eyes, she mumbles, “You gonna have them killed or somethin’?”

He’d laugh if he could. “Not really. I’ll do something, though. Whatever it is you need me to do.”

She rests her chin on his shoulder so he can’t look her in the eyes. In a whisper, she asks: “Can you freeze us in time?”

“What?”

“I’m scared we’ll lose this,” She confesses. “I’m so in love with you, Harry and I— I don’t want us to be boyfriend and girlfriend the way I’ve learned it, owing each other and the world explanations and parts of ourselves. I want us to choose to love each other every day because we can’t help but do so — a forever that looks like the way you offered me a drink, the way you flew out to meet me after our fight and promised we’d do better, the way you kissed me today; like it’s not simple but it’s easy. ”

Harry stays silent for a while.

“I’m sorry if it makes no sense,” her voice shakes. “I think I’m just desperate not to lose myself in you while getting to keep you and— I don’t know, it doesn’t sound as reasonable as I thought it would.”

He whispers her name.

“Yeah?”

“Being with you forever, one day at a time, sounds reasonable to me.”

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

“Do you want to marry me?”

“What?”

“Marry me, love,” he laughs softly. “Do you want to?”

She’s silent, tear-filled eyes staring up at him.

“You know how I knew it was time?” Harry asks, still in a low voice like they’re somewhere sacred. Home. “We built a family out of a promise we didn’t even have to make. A while ago, even before Jamie, you told me we shouldn't owe each other, and it’s true. I won’t ever ask you for anything you haven’t already given me, because that’s how you love me too. But I’ll ask for this because it’s ours and I know it’ll stay this way.”

They’re both crying, and her shaking hands try to wipe away his tears.

“I want to,” She says.

That sudden bright smile takes over her face like it did both years and minutes ago. It doesn’t take him by surprise anymore.

#FineLineFicChallenge #harry styles #fine line #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #hsogolden

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sunbellylou · 4 years

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ask for writers !!

thank you @tomlinvelvetfics for tagging me! and thank you @soldouthaz for making this tag!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted: i’ve been writing for years now, i started with het (ew!) 1d fics in portuguese back in 2011, it was actually those little imagines we used to write, don’t know if anyone remembers hehe. i posted them on a facebook page i was part of and i remember the first thingy i wrote was something with niall, but i really don’t remember any details (but was probably bad as heck since i was 11).

my first larry fic i probably wrote around 2012 when i found out the gay fanfics world haha, i don’t remember what it was or anything tbh, in my head i always wrote and posted gay fanfic.

my first fanfic in english was a little one shot (like 400 words honestly), it was a translation of a previous work i wrote portuguese. i posted it a year and a half ago and it’s called playground love (please don’t look).

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?: i usually write from harry’s pov because i love love l o v e describing louis and how angelic he is, so usually i tend to see louis as this ethereal ish character, cause it’s usually about harry falling in love with him. so whether i like it or no, i tend to be closer to harry’s characters in my fics, i always like to put a bit of myself on him and make the character real, you know?

3. where do you often find inspiration?: honestly? anything! i’ve written fics inspired by tumblr posts, tweets, pictures, songs, movies, things that happened in my real life, books. i literally wrote a pwp because i couldn’t stop thinking about leather pants (go read my robin hood au).

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?: in the beginning it was really helping me, i’d stay up till 4am everyday just writing like crazy, but then i got into the worst writer’s block and didn’t write shit for months. (and of course right when i started getting new ideas, i started working so i have no free time).

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence? always listen to music, all the time. i can’t do anything without music. mostly because my brain is a mess and music helps me concentrate. i usually go for some chill songs, some indie pop and stuff.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?: oh my god, when i’m writing and two or more paragraphs start with the same word, one after the other. it drives me crazy!!!! and sometimes i spend hours looking for ways to word differently the sentences, just so i don’t have two paragraphs starting with “the”.

also when my paragraphs are two (or one) lines long, i can’t! it has to have three or more lines.

7. describe your ideal writing setup: at the dining table, in the middle of the night, with some soft music playing in the background and some popcorn with me!

8. favorite time of day to write?: well, just said it hehe i like writing at night.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?: woah, that’s tough because i literally write any genres! i really love writing fantasy and horror stuff, but i feel like it’s not really well accepted in the fandom? (spec horror). and when people like it, they only read from bigger authors so i usually keep myself from writing those. aaand tbh i probably already wrote most of fic genres out there, so there isn’t much left to try.

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it? i’m writer’s block bitch and i do not know how to overcome her

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult? outlining tbh, i usually don’t (and it comes back to kick me in the ass). i always have too many ideas at the same time and can’t stick to one, so outlining and finding the right plot is really hard.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable): lately i haven’t really had the chance to come up with ocs, but when i wrote original books (not fanfics and stuff), i usually started with the gender and one outstanding personality trait and went from there.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word? i love the words ethereal and breeze, omg you’ll find them A LOT on my fics. and my least favorite word is growl.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?: i think i describe the vibez in the scene really well, it’s my favorite thing to do. and i need to work more on building my sentences, because theyre always supermessy.

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?: definitely the fic i’m working on right now! i’m putting so much work on the world building since it’s a fantasy fic, so i’m planning every little detail about it. i hope other people like it too when they read it !!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?: comic sans, 12pt, single spaced. don’t come at me.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?: because english isn’t my first language, i always change like ‘th’ for ‘d’ (because it has a similar sound in portuguese), so catch me typing ‘de’ instead of ‘the’ or ‘dey’ instead of ‘they’.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?: i didn’t understand the question so i’m pretending i never read it hehe

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?: my favorite to write is probably,,, love/adoration, like harry looking at louis like he’s the whole world and thinking about how amazing he is? i love it.

and the most difficult is probably anger, i find it really hard to write like fights and stuff like that because usually i make the characters sound more sad than angry.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?: i never thought about that but,,, i hope they start finding joy in small things that happen in their day. that’s something i use a lot in my fics and i think it’s very important to bring it to real life. like enjoy that late night tea, showering in the morning, spending a summer day in the house, cleaning, etc.

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?: i think the best advice is one i got from someone i no longer talk to, they told me this when i first started writing in english and it is to stop trying to write fancy or like native english speakers, because it’s much better to write simple sentences that i’m confident about than write sentences with words i barely know how to use.

and the worst advice is TO OUTLINE! i know i should maybe i dont know but leave me alone, i hate outlining bye

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?: ok so,,, it’s a book i wrote like three years ago with original characters. it’s called great evil and i wrote it in portuguese. it’s full of violence and acid humor, about a very evil and sarcastic demon and an angry hunter. (one day i’ll translate that book and turn it into a larry fic)

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?: chronologically. always

24. how do you handle criticism?: really bad. please be careful with what words you use. i’m already really hard on myself when it comes to my writing, so sometimes someone says something and (it might be dramatic but) i feel my world crumbling and i want to stop writing right away.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?: just,,, do it. there’s no right or wrong way to do it. there’s no such thing as too much or too little, bad or good plots. every idea is a good idea. write it for yourself, write something you like. go ahead and just do it. there’s always someone out there who will enjoy your work, no matter what.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?: any comments make my day tbh, if you comment on my fic i’ll be forever grateful and will be smiling like a fool the whole day. honestly, even a “omg i loved it” comment can make my day.

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?: the one i’m writing 100%, please i want to live in a fantasy world. i wanna live in the water kingdom and have faerie louis as my king please.

and i’d like to befriend louis from my fic kiss me in your chevrolet, he’s a sweetheart and i must protecc.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?: anything! i rarely get asks so anything is good hehe

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?: it’s such a big part of my life, i spent all my teenage years writing and it really is what built my personality. it helped me being more creative with all aspects of my life and take life lightly, enjoy little things and moments.

30. why do you write?: i just love having ideas and putting out there, playing with words and finding new ways to describe daily things.

boost yourself + tags!

1a. share the last sentence you wrote:

The path through the dense forest, covered in slippery rocks and burning trees is already difficult enough, but it becomes ten times worse when you’re being pestered by small, demonic creatures.

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about:

i’m honestly only working on one fic right now and i’m super duper excited about it

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of:

"I mean, I still don't plan on watching Star Wars, so…"

The boy groans playfully, throwing his head back and Louis' eyes are suddenly really interested in the column of the guy's throat.

"Americans really have no culture." He shoulders Louis slightly, warmth spreading through Louis' dainty shoulder and making him trip to the side lightly. With a faux outraged scoff, Louis waves a dismissing hand.

“What do British people know about culture? All you do is drink tea and talk about the weather all day,” Louis teases with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Also, Star Wars is American, just so you know.” He rolled his eyes playfully, feeling surprisingly comfortable in his presence.

Skater Boy sighs comically, shaking his head, his wavy locks falling gracefully on the sides of his face and Louis can’t stop thinking about how soft his hair must be.

“You got me there.”

not posted but i kinda like it (i’m not really good with dialogues, so it was really hard to find one lmao)

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s): I will do only those that are already published:

best first lines are from a halloween fic i never finished:

Louis’ blue eyes snap open. His heart pounds fast inside his rib cage, making something as easy as breathing almost impossible. Sweat drenches his body and he feels like drowning. He feels too awake and wary as his breathing calms down, as well as his grips on the sheets under him loosen.

best last lines are from my 2019 BLFF there’s more than one place to call home:

Their life was utter chaos, and they were definitely complete opposites, and sometimes Harry wished Louis would just shut the hell up, but at the same time, Harry wouldn’t change a single thing about his life, because he had Louis, and that was all that mattered to him.

5a. link the last fic you read: it was the devil's in the details by @raspberryoatss

6a. link the last work you published: you could take a lick (but it’s too cold to bite me)

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable): cinnamons

8a. someone that inspires you: louis hehe

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year: tbh i don’t read a lot of fics, but there’s this work a friend of mine wrote. it was in portuguese and she ended up deleting it but it’s amazing.

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag! @bottomlwt @raspberryoatss

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