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suchalonelysunflower · 6 months

Text

Villain

Sinners and Saints - Chapter 2

Pairing: Mafia! Ashton Irwin x Fem! Hemmings! Reader

Summary: Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? After seemingly accept to help her, Ashton would not make it easy for the reader to find his good graces.

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood, guns, threats, kidnapping, murder, mentions of abuse, injury. Some grammar mistakes (English is not my first language I’m sorry)

Word count: 5.9k

Author’s Note: I’m keeping it, and if you don’t like AU’s don’t read them 🤷🏼‍♀️ Thank you all for the support with the first chapter, it means a lot 🩷 And remember to reblog, comment and like the post if you enjoyed it ❤️ Hope you like it and happy reading 🌻✨🦋

Series Masterlist

“Careful, angel” You could hear the smile in his voice dripping with condescending sarcasm “We don’t want you to get hurt”

Still, you kicked and fought and bit and yelled “fire” hoping anyone could hear and come and help, but the music was too loud and you were at least ninety percent sure the walls were soundproof. You could not see anything besides the darkness of the velvet inside of the - you guessed - bag over your head. Your heels dug into the ground as the minions Ashton probably hired from the slums tried to drag you away.

“Get the fuck away from me!”

“Motherfuck-!” One of them yelled after you sunk your teeth deep into his hand. You smiled at the faintest taste of blood that lingered on your tongue. If you were going down, at least they’d know you fought back.

Ashton rolled his eyes with a sigh “You know,” He said “You used to be fun”

“Fun?!” You yelled turning your head toward where you thought he was, still dragging your feet as two pairs of arms dragged you “I would show you fun, you sick son of a-”

“Ah-ah better be careful with your next words, angel” Ashton tutted. You felt his breath next to your ear, goosebumps jumping up on your skin as he leaned down and whispered “We both know you like it”

At that point, you were hoping you had a bag over your head so that he would miss the way your cheeks flamed up at his proximity. But if you had to guess, he probably wore a devilish smirk right now, and oh, how you wanted the satisfaction to erase it completely.

“GODFUCK-” You smiled as you heard Ashton’s groan in pain after you kneeled him near his crotch.

“Oops”

Soon, your wrists were grabbed by one of his hands, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heartbeat next to yours as he took off the covering of your face.

Hazel, angry eyes were staring right at yours, you didn’t dare look away. You couldn’t. His gaze scanned your face, lingering a second too long on your lips before his stare found yours again, looking back with something hidden in them, something that made your breath get caught up in your lungs the second you noticed the soft caressing of his thumb against the skin of your wrist. It was a challenge, it had to be. You knew Ashton’s tricks too well to fall for them so easily. But having him so close made you realize exactly why it seemed so thoughtless to give it all away.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?” He asked, words like velvet coming out of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” You answered, staring back at him with anger “Why do you have to be such an asshole?”

Ashton chuckled, “Ouch, and I thought we were getting along”

Suddenly, you felt someone yank you from his grasp and carry you over their shoulders to the exit. You kicked and screamed, but all was fruitless as you were thrown inside a car where they tied up your wrists and ankles, and covered your face with another blindfold.

“Believe me, angel. I had no intentions of tying you up this soon” Ashton’s voice came floating as you felt the seat next to you dip under his weight. You scoffed in annoyance.

“Bite me, Irwin”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, love” He said “And try and keep quiet, alright? Don’t make me gag you… Unless you want to”

The car started moving, and just like that, you were completely at his mercy.

During the whole car ride, you were completely silent and still. You didn’t even give him the satisfaction of breathing hard, and you knew you were driving him crazy. Well, if the consistent sound of tapping his fingers on his knee told you anything, that is. You had to repress a smile at that.

Ashton liked the chase and fight. You noticed it the second you saw that glint in his eyes. One does not get the name Lucifer by playing fair and liking it.

“Turn over here,” He told the driver “Take the next exit and then straight home”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, he didn’t want you to know where he lived or how to get there, it was all part of the protocol your father used with all of his associates as well. How many times have the driver picked you up from school and a random man was sitting at the back with a bag over his head and his hands bound with tape if anything?

But you’ve already sold your life to the devil. You promised everything he requested to save Luke from whatever hellhole he was caught up with. You trusted him despite yourself because no one else would’ve helped you due to the nature of your last name. Ashton knew this. He knew that you weren’t going to betray him, you couldn’t even if you wanted to while your brother was nowhere to be found. So what was all this circus? Was it just to humiliate you further?

“Someone’s awfully quiet over there” He taunted. You said nothing “Aww, cat’s got your tongue, angel?”

You kicked what you hoped was his seat and heard him laugh quietly. Your cheeks burn red as you bite your tongue from ever answering him. There will be nothing left to say until he starts helping you with the search.

Sometime later, the car came to a halt. You heard how Ashton’s men got out of the vehicle, feeling how it got lighter once they did. You were still sitting in place, not moving unless moved to become more of an inconvenience for anyone because they knew that if they tried to touch you, some of the bruises you left on them might become worse.

That’s until you felt a familiar grasp on your arm.

You tried to hit him once again, but Ashton was pulling you from a distance of a few steps ahead of you. He took you up some stairs and you heard a big door closing behind you. Suddenly, the light came through.

“Now, listen,” Ashton said as your eyes adjusted to the light and the new environment “I don’t want any funny business here, you got it?”

Your head was reeling too hard to even speak. Your eyes started to look around, familiarizing yourself with this new threat. The two of you were standing in a grand entrance lobby, the main staircase not too far behind in the room. There were guards on each door, some even waiting with firearms in their hands, ready to draw. The marble floors decorated the room with elegance, nothing you wouldn’t expect from someone in this line of business.

But what really impressed you was the size of this mansion. Of course, you had your fair share of them, coming from a big, important family, it was nothing new. But knowing that Ashton lived there alone… it sure felt lonely.

Yet, you barely had time to ponder on that as Ashton grabbed you by the arm again and dragged you up the stairs.

“You are never to leave this room, understood?”

“What?”

He opened up a door, practically throwing you inside and making you lose your footage.

“This door stays unlocked for me at all times” He sternly ordered “Don’t get in my way, don’t bother me, and don’t come looking for me. If you do, somebody better be dead or I’ll make sure they will be”

Ashton slammed the door after that, leaving you completely alone.

Immediately, you ran to the door, but when you opened it you found two guards standing with their broad backs facing you, both of them with guns.

You groaned and slammed the door shut. Falling to your knees as you desperately and angrily wiped away the tears that could not stop falling. You cursed Ashton’s name over and over again, hitting the ground until your knuckles were scraped and started to bleed a little bit. By then, almost all of your anger was contained and you were left feeling numb once again.

You stood up and cradled your hands with each other, looking around the green sage-painted room. The door of the bathroom was opened, so you went in to clean up the dirt and blood from your hands and fingertips. You noticed it had a bathtub; and towels; and the cabinet was filled with ibuprofen, bandages, and a first aid kit.

You looked back into the room and also noticed how the sheets were new, and the blankets over them were placed perfectly aligned with the pillows. You rummaged through the closet and found different outfits mostly consisting of sweatpants, hoodies, workout clothes, and a set of pajamas. The realization that Ashton got someone to get the room ready for you while you were driving to his house caught you by surprise.

Still, a cage was still a cage no matter how fancy it seemed.

The next thing you did was try to get to the windows, but as you suspected they were nailed shut and made with bulletproof glass.

“Smart,” You thought “You win this round, Irwin”

Suddenly, the antics of the day caught up with you as you let yourself fall into the sheets and the bed. You didn’t know how or when, but when you woke up, you were tucked underneath the blankets.

The next morning Ashton woke up with a major headache. His mouth was dry and his hair was sticking out in various directions. He got out of bed with a groan and with the everyday motivation coming from the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen.

But his thoughts are quickly scrambled by loud knocks at the door.

“Fuck… What?!” He shouted, rubbing his eyes, still trying to wake up.

“Sir?” One of his bodyguards talked through the other side of the door “I- uh. I’m afraid something’s happened… eh, with the guest. She- she’s not in her room, sir”

“WHAT?!

Immediately, Ashton was out of bed and putting on his sweatpants, grabbing the gun that slept next to him on his bedside table. He opened the door and put the front sight up against the guard’s neck and under his chin, making the man gulp when he saw the anger in his boss’ eyes.

“Say that again” He demanded.

“Th-the- the maid went to give her br-br-breakfast but the girl was not-”

Ashton rolled his eyes and murmured a “Fucking idiot,” before he went up to check up on the room across the hall.

Empty.

“Shit,” He cursed, punching the door frame and turning toward his crew “I want eyes on every fucking room in this house. The pool. The garden. The fucking sheds! Not a single rock left untouched! That’s Y/N Hemmings we’re talking about!”

“And if we find her?”

“When you find her you bring her to me. I’ll deal with her”

The men scurried quickly, leaving Ashton shirtless and alone in the hall. He cursed out loud and headed toward his office to check the cameras. Surely, if his idiot guards could not handle you, you still mustn't've gone too far-

Ashton backtracked a little bit, turning toward the door of the office and opening it completely. You almost laughed at his face when he saw you sitting there in front of his computer. But you quickly decided to ignore it and just go back to work. He has you trapped, but that does not mean you owe him any interactions.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked.

You noticed how his chest was rising and falling with anger he tried to keep at bay. The scars that adorned his skin seemed to come alive at that. His eyes were trained on you, waiting for an explanation.

“Starting the investigation” You shrugged.

“How did you-?”

“Please, I still remember your mum’s birthday. You’re the type of man who would use that as his password. I didn’t need to try that hard”

Ashton saw red at your comment. He slammed the gun to the desk and grabbed you by the arm, surely leaving bruises as he dragged you out.

You started to fight, punching him wherever you could. But he suddenly stopped and grabbed your other wrist with his hand, twisting it a little bit, just enough to make you complain and to stop your attempts to hurt him.

In his eyes, you could see the reason why people say he’s the angel of death. There was nothing but anger and hatred as he looked at you. It scared you for a moment, but it wasn’t going to make you run away.

“You said you would help me” You spat at him.

“I never said I would make it my priority”

“You motherfuck-” You cursed him out, trying to escape his grasp but it was useless. Yesterday he might’ve been playing a little bit, but now he was showing you his real strength.

Ashton shoved you back into your room, not even looking as he said “Change of plans, since you want to be a brat, you’ll be treated as one”

Then, he slammed the door and you heard the lock being put on.

You ran up to it, banging on it and fiddling with the knob to no avail. You cursed out his name and yelled at him, demanding to be let out.

“WE HAD A DEAL!” You’d shout until your voice gave out, but it all fell on deaf ears.

What have you gotten into?

Hours later, while you’re trying your best to pick the lock of the windows, the door opens.

“That’s not going to work, you know?” A kind voice said, “Believe me, I’ve tried”

You turned around to find the blond girl from the bar. She was smiling at you, leaning against the door frame. But the way she smiled… It seemed too familiar. Then, it hit you.

“Lauren,” You breathed her name, she laughed.

“About time you remember me!” Lauren said, walking into the room and sitting over the bed, patting the spot next to her “I almost thought you forgot about me”

“It’s not that,” You said, complying and sitting beside her “It’s just- wow, you were so little the last time we saw each other. And now…”

“I know, right? The glow-up did me good” She joked “And so it did to you. When you gave me your name yesterday, I must admit it took me a while. But when I noticed how my brother started to act…”

You rolled your eyes at her comment about Ashton “So being her prisoner is special treatment?”

“Having him agree to help you is special treatment. You know how he is”

But that was the thing, you didn’t. You’ve known of him, of his reputation, of his deeds. But Ashton Irwin was a complete stranger to you. Whoever that person at the end of the hall was, he was far away from the boy you used to know.

“Are you-?” You cleared your throat, not knowing how to ask the question.

“In the family business?” Lauren finished for you “No, I’m only working at the bar and as Ashton's assistant for a few months. Took a sabbatical from uni. Harry is also going there but he’s more applied to his studies” She laughed “Ashton never wanted us involved, even made us change our last name for a while so we don’t get connected to him or all of this.”

“I’m glad,” You smiled. “I would’ve done the same thing if I had younger siblings. My brother’s did try it with me, though. But, you know” You looked at her, and something flashed in her eyes “You look a lot like her”

“I know,” Lauren smiled at you, putting her hand over yours “And, I haven’t said it yet, but I truly am sorry about your brothers. It’s a shitty situation”

“Tell me about it,”

“But I know if anyone is going to find Luke, it’s Ashton” She assured you “And, don’t tell him this? But I did have a little girl crush on Luke way back when. So I really do hope you’ll find him”

You laughed at that, promising to keep quiet “Be honest with me, Lauren. Am I doing the right thing by trusting Ashton?”

She sighed “If I’m being honest, I would tell you that you already know never to trust anyone in this line of work. But as someone who knows Ash, and knows everything he’s been through and done… He’s a good guy, Y/N. Or at least better than the rest”

You nodded, understanding what she meant. Yet, your heart was still doubting. Still worried you made the wrong choice by coming to him.

“Oh, and before I forget,” Lauren said, getting up and handing you an old cellphone, “Ash told me to give you this”

“What for?”

“Communication, emergencies. You name it. It only has his number on it, but I snuck mine before he could notice” She gave you a wink “Talk to you later, okay?”

“Hey, Lauren?” You called for her before she left “Thank you. Thank you for everything”

The girl smiled and closed the door, leaving you alone with your thoughts and that old phone in your hands. So you decided to test it.

Me: Couldn’t you have found one phone from this generation?

Ashton: They can easily be tracked. You know that.

Ashton: So, sorry if you wanted games installed.

Me: Are you going to let me out so I can continue with the investigation?

Ashton: Are you going to be a good girl for me and do as I tell you to?

The redness of your cheeks went up to your ears. Groaning as you read that message.

Me: Fuck you, Irwin.

Ashton: Still with that attitude, angel? Too bad, I was going to ask you what you wanted for dinner. Guess the chef will skip that request, then.

Me: I will be caught dead before having dinner with you.

Ashton: Good. We can finally benefit each other, then.

You threw the phone against the wall, denting it a little bit with no damage done to the phone. This was going to be a long day.

It was 2 AM when the sound of the door banging against the wall woke you up.

“Get up,” Ashton’s voice rang through your head as you sat up “We’re leaving”

“What?”

He was standing in the middle of the room dressed in an all-black suit, his hair was pushed back, leaving just a wild stand of honey-colored curls to fall upon his forehead. To anyone else, it would seem he was headed to a party, but you knew that could not be the case. He scoffed, already annoyed.

“Are you deaf?” He asked, cocking his gun without even meeting your eyes “I said get up, we’re leaving. Now”

“I’m not going anywhere with you”

Finally, he looked up at you, refusing to accept the challenge that you presented to him.

“I don’t think you understand, angel-”

“Don’t call me-”

But before you could finish your sentence, he took two long strides to your bed and put the gun right up your forehead, fingertips on the trigger.

“When I say you jump, you ask how high. If I tell you to move, you move. This isn’t daddy’s little playground where you can make the rules, princess. I’m in charge here. You work for me. You belong to me. Understood?”

You said nothing, staring directly at him with all the hatred you felt for him at that moment. His hazel eyes mirrored yours, feeling nothing but disgust under his gaze. Yet, you knew he was serious.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, angel. But for you I’ll make an exception” He said gravely “Understood?”

“Yes,” You said through gritted teeth.

Ashton put away his gun, snapping his fingers. Never taking his eyes off you as a maid brought a change of clothes into the room. It was a long-sleeved, black cotton shirt; a pair of black cargo pants; a multipurpose belt; and a can of pepper spray.

“What’s this?” You asked, picking up the tiny can.

“You’re going to blend in with my security team”

“Then shouldn’t I be carrying a gun as well?”

Ashton laughed, “Nice try, angel”

“Irwin, I’m serious! How am I supposed to protect myself with just this?!”

“Then I guess we’ll figure it out,” He said, sparing one last look at you. “I expect you to be downstairs in five minutes”

“What if-”

“Try me. Just once and you’ll see what I’m capable of”

He left the room, leaving you alone huffing and rolling your eyes at the image of him that once was there. But, having no other option, you did as you told.

Downstairs, a couple more guards were standing with Ashton at the door. You noticed a black Range Rover ready to go just outside. One of the guards came toward you, a bag in his hand. You stopped him.

“Is that really necessary?” Ashton raised his brow, and you rolled your eyes “It’s the middle of the night, Irwin. It’s not like I would see much anyway”

The guard looked back at his boss, shrugging. Ashton looked back at you, eyes hard as steel. He didn’t say a word, just turned around and started walking to the car. For a moment, you smiled to yourself for that small victory.

You sat in the back in the middle of two guards, Ashton went up the passenger seat. You frowned. It was not normal for someone that important in this line of work to be in such plain sight. But then again, the glass and the whole car were bulletproof, and the windows were tinted black. And, to top it all off, everyone knew not to fuck up with Lucifer himself if they weren’t ready to face the consequences firsthand. After all, only a fool would try to kill death.

“One of the alarms went off at the club,” Ashton said before you could ask him “Someone tried to break into the offices, killing one of mine.”

That answers the way he was dressed, although you guessed that no matter the occasion, he would dress the part. Still, it didn’t seem like a big deal to wake all of you up in the middle of the night. You’ve walked the hidden halls of the club before, you knew they were well-guarded and with the right security system installed. Ashton surely had the right people to take care of all that. Unless…

“Lauren?” You asked, letting the worry slip in your words.

Ashton barely moved his head, you assumed that hearing the name of his sister come from you must’ve surprised him a bit.

“She’s fine,” He said, dryly “I don’t- She doesn’t work there unless I’m with her”

You nodded. Smart choice from him. Yet, that doesn’t explain why you had to come at this time. But when asked about it, Ashton just gave you the silent treatment until you got there.

Once you were parked, Ashton went out of the car almost immediately, leaving you and his men to follow him.

“Call Clifford,” He ordered to the group of men standing at the door “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of his bed, remind him of the favors he owes me” He turned to another guard “You. I want the list of names of the people that came in yesterday and tonight. I want a background check on their families as well. As for you…”

“Sir, everything was accounted for. Nothing was stolen. Our team is looking for hidden mics and cameras as we speak”

“I don’t fucking care if they took anything or not” He spat “I want to know, how the fuck did they manage to get in the first place?!”

“Sir-”

“No, you listen here” Ashton threatened, just inches away from that man’s face “I’m going in there, and you better pray to your pitiful god that we don’t find anything. If I do, if I even hear about someone who did, you bet your little sorry ass that there will be hell to pay. Starting with you. Don’t make me the villain just because you don’t know how to do your job. Don’t play with me because you will find me, and that will be the last thing you do”

You stood there, shivering. If that was because of the chilly wind or Ashton’s words, you didn’t know, nor were you particularly excited to find out either. Seeing him angry was nothing new to you by now, but it was entirely different seeing his anger aimed at someone else.

Ashton dismissed his men, turning back on his heel and walking up to you. The two men that were by your side rapidly scurried away, leaving you on your own with the devil.

“Anything you want to tell me, angel?” He asked, eyes set on yours.

“What?” You scoffed “You think I had anything to do with this?”

“All I know is that you randomly appeared at my door less than 36 hours ago with some sob, pathetic story, asking for help. And now people have tried to break in”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy, insincere laugh. Yet, Ashton remained as serious as ever.

“You’re kidding,” You stated “I’ve broken all ties with my family. You know this. Why else would I ask for your help?”

“Because all Hemmings lie, angel,” Ashton said, taking a step closer to you “That’s all they do. And don’t think for a second I believe every word that comes out of your mouth just because you come here with sad eyes, demanding help. I’ve taken a risk by even considering helping you-”

“Then why did you? Why did you say you were going to do it?”

You asked out of genuine curiosity. If helping you was “such a huge risk” for Ashton, then why did he even accept it in the first place? Still, he gave you nothing with his silence.

His eyes were dark, familiar to the boy you once knew, but at the same time so far away from the memory you once held. It was impossible to get a read on him, to know what he was thinking at any given time. He was just standing there, merely a whisper away from you, yet so distant. He was a man with no conscience, no soul, and no mercy.

“I didn’t lie to you,” You told him after a while “I just want to find my brother”

Ashton contemplated you for a moment “And if I refuse to offer any help?”

“Then I will find someone who will” You lied, knowing that no one but him would be able to help you. But hoping Ashton would believe it enough not to question it “You tell me to go and I’ll leave, right? So I’ll be out of your hair if you’re so scared that I might do something”

Your intention was never to walk away, but you knew exactly what buttons to push to get a reaction out of him. And, sure enough, you didn’t walk even one step before his hand grabbed you by the wrist and turned your body around, chest colliding with his, face to face.

He held your wrist at the level of his eye, watching intently over you, trying to decide whether or not to believe you.

“You’re getting on my last nerve, angel,” He said, quietly but with a hint of a threat lacing his words.

Your eyes shifted due to his proximity, going from that hazel color of his eyes to the pinkness of his lips. You caught yourself at the last second, focusing on the chain that hung from his neck over his chest. But the smirk he gave you let you know that he caught you staring.

“Like anything you see, angel?”

You rolled your eyes “You’re impossible, Irwin”

“Maybe,” He said, a smile present in his voice as he lowered his head and whispered in your ear “But as you said, I’m your only hope”

“I didn’t-”

“SIR!” A man yelled behind you. Both turned toward him “We found something-!”

Suddenly, all you could hear was the sound of a gunshot followed by the thud the guard’s body made when it hit the floor.

Ashton turned around quickly, pushing you behind him as he tried to grab his gun from his pocket. It all happened so quickly, that you didn’t even notice the second shot being fired until Ashton groaned and grabbed the side of his arm.

You acted quickly, grabbing Ashton’s gun from his pocket as you started to fire it in the direction where you assumed the shooter was. You pulled Ashton from the back of his collar, awkwardly maneuvering him to safety while you kept shooting until you hit the back of a building. You pushed Ashton against the wall, watching briefly as he sunk to the ground while you tried to focus.

Most of your body was hidden behind that brick wall, but your periphery gave you enough balance to locate the threat. You watched a shadow run from the roof of the club to the alleyway beside it. The guns from both your parts kept shooting bullets in your direction, neither of them hitting the target.

The shadow then jumped on the hood of a car onto the passenger seat. The sound of the tires burning against the floor hurt your ears, and the headlights lit up as they sped away. And, just like that, they were gone.

Your ears kept ringing while you tried to stabilize your breathing. The beating of your heart was going ten thousand miles per hour as the reality of what just happened sunk in. But, what the hell happened?

“What happened?” You whispered to no one in particular “We were just-”

The dryness of your throat forced you to keep quiet. The truth was, you never experienced cross-fire before. You knew how to shoot a gun because your brothers taught you against your mother’s wishes. You knew the basic steps you needed to follow in case there was a shooting. Yet, this was the first time you shot someone - or against someone - and the fact that you couldn’t tell if the shaking of your hands came from fear or adrenaline disturbed you a little.

“Angel,”

You blinked, seemingly being pulled back to earth with his voice.

Ashton was sitting next to you, panting as his hand covered the side of his upper arm. He looked up at you, but the hatred you once saw in his eyes was now replaced by some sort of mischievous gleam. He was grinning at you.

“Well done,” Was all he said before a hiss escaped his lips.

“Oh my god, Ash” You kneeled by his side “I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s fine,” He said, trying to move “I’m fine, the bullet didn’t even - fuck. It didn’t even hit, barely grazed me-”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the buttons of his jacket and opening them to slide it off.

“Take a guy out for a drink first” He joked as you started to open up his shirt “Although, I can’t say that I mind-”

“For fuck’s sake, Ash. I’m trying to see where the bullet hit you!”

From your position, you couldn’t just shrug off his sleeve. So you grabbed his shoulder and pulled him from the wall, accidentally letting go too early and leaving his head to bounce off the wall by the effect.

“I told you, I’m fi-fiaaagh- The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Sorry,” You cringed, trying to locate his wound “I can’t see it properly…”

Ashton then swiftly pulled you from your hips into his lap, sitting you properly before he raised his arm and bent it with his hand behind his head.

“Better?” He asked, breathing in deeply from the pain.

You stared at him, perplexed by his actions. But then you shook your head and located the wound, trying your hardest to ignore that you were sitting in Ashton Iriwin’s lap.

His other hand danced over the side of your knee, never touching it, but barely grazing it with his fingertips. His eyes were set on every move you made, never leaving your face. When you noticed it, he smiled at the slight blush that covered your cheeks.

“So,” You said, calmly “Are you going to give me a proper gun now, Irwin?”

“I’ll consider it”

“What? I basically saved your life!”

“You have a poor technique” He shrugged “I can give you some proper points later”

“Proper points?”

Ashton then grabbed his gun from beside you, took out the bullets, and pointed it at you.

“You see this?” He said, “This is how you grabbed the gun, one misfire and you’d be out a finger, angel. You’re lucky my guns are well-calibrated. But we’ll go over that later”

“Sure,” You said, giving him a small laugh in disbelief “Well, you’re lucky that bullet barely left a cut. We- You should go disinfect it before it catches anything”

“I’ll survive then,” Ashton said, lowering his arm and letting it rest on your bent ankle. caressing the skin.

“For now, Irwin”

“Ash,” He said.

“Huh?”

“Earlier you called me “Ash” It’s the first time that I’ve heard it”

“Well, I thought you were dying, so…”

You gave him a small smile that he returned, his fingers still touching your skin as his eyes never left yours.

“We should-” You stammered “We should head back, see if anyone else is injured?”

“So that you could call Peter, “Pete” if he got himself a boo-boo?” You groaned as you rolled your eyes and got off his lap, starting to walk toward the club “I was joking!”

Soon, you and Ashton and a couple of guys from his security team were scuttering the roof from where the shadow started to shoot. There was nothing there that could lead them to anything or anyone. It was completely deserted.

“And you’re sure you’ve watched someone run-”

“Yes!” You repeated for the thousandth time, giving them a walkthrough “I saw them appear over here, and then run toward the alleyway. They jumped and got into a car, someone was already waiting there”

Ashton hummed, “We’re going to review the footage, and see if we can trace the license plate or the type of car they were using. That would narrow the list”

“A lot of enemies, Iriwn?”

Ashton shook his head “I don’t think I have anything to do with this, angel”

“What do you mean?”

He walked over to you where the shadow allegedly started shooting. He turned you around and pointed to the two guards that were marking where the two of you had stood before the shooting.

“Tell me when you see it,” He whispered to you.

You scoffed. There was nothing left to see. The man who was supposed to be Ashton is with his back exposed to the shooter while the one representing you was barely in sight. They could’ve easily-

And then it hit you.

They could’ve easily shot Ashton in the back of his neck. But they didn’t.

Ashton was not their target.

You were.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #suchalonelysunflower #ashton irwin #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #sinners and saints #don’t blame me for what you made me do #Ashton Irwin fanfic #ashton iriwn 5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer ashton #ashton 5sos #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #ashton Irwin series

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boinin · 1 month

Note

sorry i couldn't find out how to ask on your other blog.

that book binding you posted is gorgeous btw !!

I noticed that in one of the photos you included the disclaimer that you also edited it. I just had a question about how you formatted the text.

one of my biggest gripes with AO3 is text formatting (i often feel like i'm reading a legal document vs a novel/story) . Did you change how it is formatted on AO3 compared to printed?

I feel like i'm in the 0.5% that hate AO3 formatting but i thought i might as well ask in case you have any tips for that. >,>

(also how do you decide on the page size, do you just choose a standard size for all your projects? or do you vary it depending on what you are binding?)

thanks so much for taking the time to answer and for sharing your projects :) !!!!!!!!!!!

hey anon! I have asks turned off for the sideblog, but happy to answer here. Thanks very much!

I'm taking this opportunity to info-dump and link a lot of resources. I think they're useful for people new to either typesetting or bookbinding, but not all are directly related to your queries. That said, hope this is of use!

one of my biggest gripes with AO3 is text formatting (i often feel like i'm reading a legal document vs a novel/story) . Did you change how it is formatted on AO3 compared to printed?

I do a fair bit of editing when I'm binding a fic; typesetting is often the longest part of the process. Your mileage will vary depending on your experience with using word processor software, particularly the paragraph style and page style settings. Another factor is how simple/complicated you want your typeset to look. Replicating a published novel in format is difficult but learnable for a complete beginner.

I'm not equipped to give a full tutorial on how to typeset, but I'll point you towards some useful resources for ficbinding then talk about my own process.

ArmouredSuperHeavy has a tutorial on how to make Ao3's HTML downloads into a printable book in Microsoft Word. I use LibreOffice Writer myself, so this adaptation of the same tutorial is what I follow. Both are very helpful to reference as you're learning the typesetting ropes.

Personally, I don't mess around with HTML. I find it easiest to start by doing a Ctrl+A copy of the Entire Work fic view on Ao3 then pasting that into my word processor. This video tutorial by Beautifully Bound runs through how to do this in Microsoft Word using an AO3 fic as an example, including the associated steps needed to make the fic look novel-like. This is probably the best tutorial to address your gripe with AO3 formatting. Other than that, I'd recommend looking into videos or tutorials about typesetting novels for print. Same idea, and you may get more hits than searching for fanbind/ficbind typesetting tutorials.

More under the cut! Once I start yapping, it's hard to shut me up 🤷‍♀️

As a point of comparison, here's one of my fics on Ao3 and the corresponding typeset side by side:

Beautifully Bound explains this in far better detail than I will, but off the top of my head, the steps involved:

making a new document and setting the default page size to whatever size I want the book's pages to be (A5 or A6 usually). You can also set the margins at this point, taking account of your printer settings.

CTRL+A and copying the entire work's text on AO3 then pasting it into the document.

removing all hyperlinks and AO3 frontmatter, things like the author tags, summary, notes, etc as well as any website text that got copied over alongside the fic.

(optional) running a spell check and ensuring grammar usage is consistent. For me that's substituting em dashes for hyphens between clauses, enforcing curly double quotation marks for dialogue, etc. LibreOffice Writer automates a lot of this with customisable settings, via Tools -> Auto-Correct. Here's also where to make sure character names are all spelled right, convert the text to or from US to UK English, etc.

picking out fonts for the body text, headers, page numbers, etc. This is where you'll want to use paragraph style settings. Page style settings also comes in clutch if, for example, you'd like different headers on alternating pages. I like having the author on the right, the fic title on the left.

setting the body text first line indent to whatever makes sense visually). This in particular helps make the fic feel more like a novel. You can also play around with line spacing and space between paragraphs at this stage. For this A6 typeset, I had a 0.75cm first line indent, 1.15 line spacing, and 0.15 spacing between paragraphs.

(optional) formatting the first line of the work to use small capitals and to add a drop caps to the first letter of the first word. Again, this is a convention in publishing which add a novel-like feeling to a printed fanwork.

Inserting page numbers, adding images, coming up with how I wanted the "copyright" page to look—optional for the most part, but these are details that make a fic appear more like a novel.

For multi-chapter works, there's extra work in formatting chapter titles as headings so that they're referenced correctly in the automatic table of contents word processors can generate.

Once you have a typeset you're happy with, and if you're considering printing and binding it as a book, then you'll need to look into how to create and print signatures. Personally, this is something I had to actually try (and mess up a bunch of times) before I got to grips with it. Understanding how both your printer and your PDF reader work, particularly printer margins and booklet print settings, is key.

I won't go into as much detail on this, but if it's something you have an interest in, I'd recommend starting with DAS Bookbinding's tutorial. DAS has tutorials for everything bookbinding related so when in doubt, check his channel! Plenty of other YouTubers also have good videos on making signatures.

This resource is extremely useful once you've got your head around how to print signatures manually, so here's a link for anyone in that space: GitHub Bookbinding Imposer. Essentially, this does the signature creation for you, removing the need for booklet print settings in your PDF reader.

also how do you decide on the page size, do you just choose a standard size for all your projects? or do you vary it depending on what you are binding?

I have access to both A4 and A5 sized paper and my printer can handle printing on either size. In bookbinding, normally two pages are printed per side of the paper (which are then folded in half as part of a signature). That is, when I print on A4 paper, it's to make an A5 sized book. Printing on A5 paper will yield an A6 sized book.

Before I begin typesetting, I'll usually know what paper I plan to use, so the typeset will be one size down from the paper. So far, I've made softcover pamphlets at A6 size and casebound books in A5. No real method of choice for me, it's whatever I feel most suits the project.

---

If you made it this far anon, thanks for reading! Here's links to a few general resources if bookbinding is something you'd like to explore more:

DAS Bookbinding (YouTube, bookbinding in all forms)

Sea Lemon DIY (YouTube, bookbinding and other crafts)

bitter melon bindery (YouTube, bookbinding, particularly beginner friendly!)

Jess Less (YouTube, demonstrations of fanbinding and re-binding existing novels)

Papercraft Panda (blog, lots of detailed tutorial on bookbinding)

Renegade Bookbinding Guild (collective and website, loads of fanbinding-specific resources from their members and they have a helpful Discord).

#ask #mine #non bllk #bookbinding #fanbinding #ficbinding #typesetting #resources #long post

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army-of-bee-assassins · 1 year

Note

back with more questions regarding image descriptions!!

let's say there is an artwork for a fandom that is specific to one country mostly. (Czechia in this example) since the thing the fandom is based on is in Czech. should I write the image description in English or in Czech?

also I've heard somewhere that proper writing should be used in them, is that true? like if the original text is caps lock I should put it to regular. or when no punctuation is used, I should add it.

i hope these aren't stupid, questions. I'm thinking of adding descriptions to all pictures on my art sideblog and I want to do it right :)!!

hi there! sorry for the late response on this one!

so for your first question, i would write the image description in czech in that case! generally speaking, i would write in the language that most of the post's audience will be using. or perhaps whatever language the op was using. you can also do the image description in more than one language (like english and czech for example) if you want. but one language will generally be sufficient.

in terms of proper grammar in image descriptions, i am not sure that it is vital (tho people are welcome to correct me on this), but i believe that it is preferred by some people. i usually use proper capitalization and punctuation in my ids. but again, any id is better than none.

as for correcting punctuation and capitalization when transcribing text, usually the rule of thumb is to transcribe the text as-is, without editing anything. the main exception would be for an honest-to-god typo (like fully a mistake, not a misspelling that was added for comedic effect) that may affect the post's legibility. in that case, you can usually correct the spelling. but otherwise i wouldn't edit the capitalization, spelling, or punctuation. if something would be truly incomprehensible for a screen reader (like something with a lot of words intentionally misspelled), then you might transcribe it as-is, followed by a "translation"/plain text of what it's meant to say.

when it comes to things that are in all caps - there are some mixed thoughts on this. i think these days most screen readers will read all caps just normally, but certain words may instead be read as an acronym. for example, "it" in all caps might be read as "I-T", like the acronym for "information technology." another thing to note is that no screen reader (as far as i'm aware) will make any note of something being in all caps. this means that when all caps are used for emphasis, a screen reader user has no way of knowing that the emphasis was there. lastly - and maybe this is just a personal preference and doesn't extend to other people - i find it kind of difficult to read a long stretch of text (like, more than a few sentences) that is in all caps. for all of these reasons listed, i often like to transcribe all caps with normal capitalization, just with a note that indicates that it was in all caps. for example: "The sign reads: [in all caps] 'do not enter'". these sorts of notes can also be added when all caps are used for emphasis. however - i'm honestly not sure if there's an agreed best practice on the transcription of all caps text. or if there is, i still need to learn about it.

just as a general note for alt text and image descriptions - a great way to learn a bit more about how screen readers work is to try out the screen reader on your phone! pretty much all modern phones have a screen reader in the accessibility settings, and you can set up a quick shortcut to turn it on and off with ease. for my phone, i just hold down both volume keys for a few seconds to turn it on. once the screen reader is on, swipe left or right to change what is highlighted and being read, and double tap to select what is highlighted. there are more settings than that, but that's what you need for just basic navigation. once you've figured out how to use your screen reader, try it out on different tumblr posts to see what it's like, and try it out on alt text or image descriptions that you write to see if they read well.

thanks for the thoughtful questions again!

#i'm hoping the basic screen reader instructions work across most phones?#i know they apply for voiceover (iphone) and talkback (android)#long post #again sorry i can't be concise to save my fucking life #j.txt

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putschki1969 · 3 years

Video

youtube

H-el-ical// Q&A Corner（Vol#2）

Today PART 2 of H-el-ical//’s video project “H-el-ical// Q&A Corner” was broadcast on the official YouTube Channel. Here’s a link to PART 1

VIDEO LINK

SUBSCRIBE to Hikaru’s YouTube Channel!

H-el-ical// Official

Summary

Hikaru is answering questions which she received in the comment section of THIS video.Without further ado, let’s get to the questions:

EDIT: Sorry, I still had the text from the previous video post here so it was a bit confusing, I could have sworn I deleted it but apparently I didn’t. I think I was too exhausted yesterday to notice :P Anyways, it’s gone now so everything should make sense.

How is her fan club coming along? They are still in the process of trying to find something that works for Japanese as well as international fans. But her staff members have seen all the suggestions that fans sent in when Hikaru was asking about content ideas for the fan club on her Twitter account

Any recently purchased items she recommends? She hasn’t really bought anything lately. But she remembers buying some pants from the brand GU which she really likes. They are wide-legged with a sort of boot-cut and they are super soft. [They inserted THIS one here. It’s currently out of stock]

When she feels down or nervous, what does she do to feel better? She tries to take some deep breaths whenever she is nervous (before a live for example).

If she weren’t a singer, what would she be doing instead? Since she loves small children, she would enjoy teaching them some stuff, like the English ABC song or something. She is obviously not suited for anything super difficult but a few small English classes would be neat. It’s honestly very hard for her to answer a question like this because she can’t imagine a life where she is not a singer.

Describe yourself in a few words? “My Pace”

Is she left-handed (since she usually holds her microphone in her left hand). Any particular singing style she prefers? She is right-handed but she likes to use her right hand for gesturing while she sings. She finds that movements come easier when she is using her prominent hand. As for style, she is very adamant about fully immersing herself in the world of the song. And during lives she always makes sure to look the people in the audience in the face.

Plans/expectations for 2021? Anything she would like to change? She hopes the pandemic situation will calm down soon so she can finally meet her audience again. There are currently a few things she is preparing which she can’t talk about yet, it’s something that will push her further ahead so she is looking forward to finally announcing it. [Ahhhhh, teasing us again] As for changes, that’s always hard for her because it takes her a long time to accept change.

What would she do if she had a whole day off? Sleep, she would totally want to sleep. And maybe read a bit of manga, watch some anime, play a few games. She could also imagine doing something like go to an onsen but honestly, she prefers to stay at home.

Current favourite song? She doesn’t really listen to a lot of music in her private time so it’s hard for her to name something. However, she has recently started to listen to some K-Pop. Lots of dance music that improves your mood.

Why did she decide to learn English and how did she learn it? She has always loved Disney and she used to own a set of video cassettes with some sort of short films that were in English. She was super young back then but she still remembers the characters talking in English. That inspired her. Later on when she got older and started doing auditions for all sorts of stuff she realised that knowing English would come in handy in her work. That’s when she decided to attend a vocational university that focused on foreign languages. as for her learning methods, she likes to pay a lot of attention to pronunciation. And she focuses on learning how to speak. Grammar and such is not really her forte though. She thinks that first and foremost you have to enjoy the language or else you won’t be able to learn all those new things.

Favourite candy/snack? She prefers salty snacks over sweet candy. She loves everything that you would typically eat with alcohol, crackers and such. When it comes to cakes, she prefers fruit tarts and cheese cakes. Recently she has also liked chocolate-coated dried fruits. Generally she loves all chocolates that are bitter

Any favourite things she likes to do/eat during each season? Obviously she likes seasonal fruits because they taste best when they are in season. She can’t think of a single thing she would like to do during the different seasons. She is the type that doesn’t really go out in the summer because she doesn’t want to get sunburn. The only thing that comes to her mind is going out to take some pictures of cherry blossoms during spring. She wants everyone to comment with their suggestions/ideas. She reads all the comments that she receives on her various social media accounts so everyone, feel free to send in more questions. Eventually she will try to answer all of them.

#kalafina #video #helical #hikaru #hikaru//#h-el-ical//#helical video series #helical QA corner #helical q&a corner #summary #my summary #sorry #I was out all day so this is super late

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liquorisce · 4 years

Text

decisions, decisions pt 2

Fandom : Bleach

Pairings : Ichihime (ft. some ichi x ishi bickering which we love around here)

Rating : T

Part 1

A/N: A few months ago I wrote a post-tybw-karakura-gang-finishes-high-school kinda thing called ‘decisions, decisions’ ft career choice discussions and orihime thinking of leaving town for uni. I wanted to write some more of that stuff and more ichihime pining obvs, so here it is. also i hate myself for not being able to participate in ichihimeweek2020, i suck, but anyway, ‘nuff with the nonsense, here’s the fic:

(ps: pls be nice to me and like/reblog/comment or whatevs and tell me what u think, ily thx)

...

It’s five minutes to two, and Ichigo fought to stifle a yawn. The menacing five hundred pages of English grammar exercises in front of him wasn’t helping.

“... Unbelievable,” he curses, slamming the book shut, much to the annoyance of his bespectacled classmate sitting across him. “Why the hell can’t they just teach us proper English in school?! I’m absolutely fucking positive that Honda-sensei didn’t mention more than three tenses in her class. And what kind of English lesson takes place in Japanese anyway?!”

“... Quit your whining, Kurosaki. Some of us are trying to study here.”

Ichigo fumed. By ‘some of us,’ Ishida was pointedly referring to just himself and the long-haired beauty sitting right opposite him, who, judging by her giggling at his outburst, welcomed his distraction. The same giggling that was contributing to the problem, contributing to Ichigo’s immense distraction since after dinner.

“You’re not even human, Ishida,” he says dismissively. “Keigo’s literally made his bed on my dad’s couch, you can hear his goddamn snores, and Mizuiro left to ‘watch the stars’ with some new girl thirty minutes ago.”

“You’re the one who invited us over to your place for an all-nighter group study session and you’re calling it quits before the sun is up? As expected, you’re weak.”

He was right, this had been Ichigo’s idea, Yuzu had offered to make them dinner and his dad had plans tonight, so they were guaranteed some peace and quiet. Despite the noise and the chaos of their group, he missed hanging out with his friends. Ever since the school had given them voluntary study holidays for the upcoming University Entrance Exams, he didn’t get to see much of everyone, as they were either studying or training for competitions. Even today, Tatsuki and Chad left after dinner because they had to get up early for practice and they had decided they wouldn’t be giving the exams anyway.

Ignoring Ishida’s pointed attempts to rile him up, he turns his attention to Orihime, who despite enjoying their banter, was more focused on the cram book in front of her.

“Inoue, how are you still so motivated and so… awake?,” he asks, exasperated. “It’s almost 2 am! And you’ve been scribbling away furiously for the last thirty minutes. What are you even studying?”

“Mouuu, you’re right. I’m not able to solve this proof anyway. Maybe I should call it a night?”

“Electromagnetism?” Ishida asks, skimming the title of the chapter, “Oh, I’ve done this one, I can explain this to you if you want.”

He doesn’t know what irritates him more, Ishida’s nerdiness, or the soft look in his eyes as he unfailingly offers to help Orihime out, as he’d been doing a lot more of late, ever since they had started studying for the entrance exams together. In fact, it’d been this way this entire evening, starting from when he took a seat right next to her at the table as if he fucking belonged there, leaning over into her notebook, whenever she needed help, his arm casually brushing against her long, silken locks, her answering smile bright and incredibly close to him, and - Ichigo forces that thought to a halt because it has him gritting his teeth. “... For God’s sake, give her a break,” -

“... Shut up, Kurosaki, not everyone is applying to study *English* in University”-

“And what exactly do you mean by that, asshole?” Ichigo snarls, with more venom than needed, because despite having had enough with Ishida’s condescending attitude towards his study choices, his recent behaviour had Ichigo prickling under his skin.

“... Err, Kurosaki-kun…” Orihime starts, because she’s used to Ichigo and Ishida arguing (they’re just being affectionate, she always insists), there’s a glint in Ichigo’s eyes that’s different.

“... Exactly what I said, some of us don’t have the luxury of skipping the math and science exams,” -

“Ah, Kurosaki-kun is right! I think my brain really can’t function anymore tonight,” Orihime declares loudly, inserting herself in between them. “Kurosaki-kun, I think I will leave now. Thank you so much for hosting us today.” She bows, her formality annoying him even more, but still throwing him off guard.

As always, Orihime’s pleasant demeanour diffused the rising tempers… somewhat. With one last glare, Ishida grudgingly agreed, “Then I guess I will take my leave as well.”

Ichigo wants to be polite and say something like, “we should do this more often,” but he’s pissed off, and couldn’t wait to be rid of Ishida’s arrogant mug, so instead he offers, “Inoue, can I walk you home?”

He doesn’t notice the faint red on her cheeks or the hesitation on her face, when she mumbles, “If it doesn’t inconvenience you.” And he’s torn again - tearing his eyes away from the pretty blush dusting her cheeks unable to stop himself from wondering bitterly if she’d let Ishida walk her home without much protest.

“Ishida lives in the other direction and it would be out of his way, so I don’t mind.”

“Well then,” Ishida says, looking at her with more fondness than Ichigo would have liked, “Your eyes are all red and puffy. Sleep well. Don’t strain yourself, okay?”

“Yes sir,” she gives him the salute, “... good night!”

“... And text me that you got home safe. This idiot can’t be trusted with anything,”-

“... for fuck’s sake, just go home already!”

“Kurosaki-kun,” she whispers, amused, as she watches Ishida walk away with a cheeky grin on his face, “you’ll wake the neighbours with your angry yelling.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly, as their footsteps fall into place beside each other, “I’m sorry for all the swearing, I don’t know why I let Ishida under my skin so much.”

“Hmmm,” she says, “It’s kind of cute, your bickering. If this were a yaoi novel, I’d totally ship it!”

“... what the hell?!” His face is red, not just because the thought of him… and Ishida… Ew. But also because this is coming from Orihime, the last person he’d ever expect to engage in fantasies of this sort.

Giggling, she quickly switches to a more somber note. “You seemed... on edge today. Did something happen between the two of you?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that question. Truth be told, he’s barely able to understand it himself. Sure, there was the usual trading of insults that took place between the two of them, but it was different this time. His whole demeanour just pissed him off. The way he always seemed to know what Orihime was asking, the way he was always able to help her, the familiar way he spoke to her… and the revelation that they’d been studying together for weeks now!

“I don’t know,” he sighs, because he can’t even explain what he is feeling, let alone the reason behind it, “... I guess it’s just the stress of the exam.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” she whines, “I’m so thankful Ishida-kun is giving the same exams as me, and we can share practice questions and tips. I really wouldn’t be able to do this alone.”

He ignores her mention of him and the tick in his jaw in reaction. “But I don’t get it. You’re giving almost all the exams. Why?!? There’s surely no need.”

She blushes, ashamed, “I know it sounds stupid, but I really haven’t decided what I want to study in University. I figured if I just gave all of the exams, I would have more options to choose from.”

“... Come on,” -

“... And I will also prefer to go wherever I get a scholarship.”

His fist clenches, “... So you’re definitely applying outside of Karakura?”

“Yeah, although I’m not sure if there’s any point. It’s so difficult to aim for the National Universities, I’ll never get through. But the counselor says it’s worth a shot for the scholarship.”

“... I thought your aunt was helping you with tuition?”

“... Only till high school. And I cannot burden her anymore. I’ve received so much from her already.”

Ichigo doesn’t miss the way her voice wavers at the end, the guilt evident in her words. And he can’t stand it. “... Cheer up,” he says softly, playfully elbowing her. “You’re one of the smartest kids in school. Rank #2 after all the shit we went through last year! If anyone can do it you can.”

“... You think so?” she mumbles, looking up at him, her insecurities heartbreaking in the grey of her eyes.

Everything about her is so honest, it hurts him a little bit because his first thought is to say no, to talk her out of it, because the revelation is too sudden, too jarring - he can’t bear the thought of this town without her. But he nods, smiles encouragingly, because that’s just way too selfish.

Shaking his head out of these thoughts, he asks, “... what was the counselor’s recommendation, again? As a career path?”

“Ah, Hirata-san said maybe I should just follow my love for baking,” she says, smiling.

“... and? Why don’t you consider that? You wouldn’t have to give these blasted exams then.”

He liked the idea of this, now more than before, momentarily regretting his role in convincing her to apply to university. Orihime working in the local bakery, coming around his house everyday to share the leftovers, staying back for dinner maybe…

“... but Kurosaki-kun was the one who said I wouldn’t be very good at it!” She pouts, “You said I’d make too many things in weird flavours and nobody would want to buy them.”

Crap. He truly felt like waltzing back in time and whacking the past version of him for saying something like that. Because if it were anyone else shitting all over Orihime’s dream, he’d have sent the punk flying. Where were all these feelings coming from anyway?!

“... Shit, I didn’t mean,” -

“... it’s okay, you’re right. And besides I can work there part-time through University. I was thinking…” She took a deep breath. “Well, actually, it was Ishida-kun’s idea. Maybe I could study to become a doctor? My strength is in healing people anyway…”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Well of course, he'd say that. He's going to study medicine too." And of course he would try to talk Orihime into it. The bastard had taken every opportunity to slither by her side -

She laughs, a pretty sound, interrupting the profanity in his mind. "Yeah, he did say it would be nice to have some company… but I'm not sure." Sighing, she asks, "How did you decide on English Studies?"

It wasn't too difficult for him honestly. It helped that he was fairly certain he didn't want to study math or science going forward. "... I like stories. And I want to be able to read and share stories in a global medium, so I decided to study English."

He looks at her only to find her looking at him in fascination, "... Truth be told, I didn't spend too much time thinking about it. The career aptitude test returned similar results as well, so I just went with it." He shrugs, "I think I'll enjoy it. Let's see."

"Ahh, you sound so optimistic about your studies, Kurosaki-kun. I wish I could be like that."

They've reached her apartment building now and she turns to look at him, wistfully. He wishes he could do something for her, ease her anxieties in some way.

"What about you?" He asks.

She looks at him, puzzled.

"... You've told me all about what everyone wants you to do. What do you want to do? I'm sure you must have some inkling."

“... I,” she stops, opens her mouth again to say something, but nothing comes out. “... what I want… ah, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” She smiles wistfully to herself, because this wasn’t something that she’d ever admitted out loud.

He rolls his eyes, “... Try me.” Because she was many things, and yes, definitely silly sometimes in that unique way of hers, but he would never, could never, call her dreams silly. It’s a moment of realization for him, when he gets angry with the way she dismisses her own dreams that way, and he feels overwhelmed with the desire to pick them up, and keep them safe where no one can trample them, along with that spaced-out, wistful smile of hers.

“Well,” she gulps, nervous, “I’ve never really thought too much about going to university. Sensei says I’m wasting my potential... but honestly, I think I’ll be happy working.”

She looks at him unsurely, waiting for a reaction, an opinion, like everyone else. Everyone who’d been urging her to continue school and pursue all kinds of studies that she could possibly do, but… “I just - I want to build a simple life with someone I love. A family, maybe, someday.”

It comes out so fast, she wishes she could grab the words and shove them back in her mouth. She chances a glance at him, her cheeks hot and furiously embarrassed.

His expression is unreadable as he gazes down at her. She’s beautiful in the moonlight, he thinks, and it isn’t really a revelation to him, but the melancholy of her beauty is, the loneliness that he wishes he could extinguish as easily as he does hollows. “A simple life huh…” he murmurs. And he can almost picture it, Orihime, ten years from now, a child in her arms, a little boy maybe, with her wide brown eyes and -

“Well, looks like you have planned it out better than any of us,” he manages hoarsely, unable to look her in the eye anymore. Not with all these… feelings simmering so close to the surface. And before he can help himself, “Do you already know who this mystery man is?”

He’s come to realize how absolutely unequipped he is to hear the answer, but her unassuming statement has already taken residence inside him somehow, a burning sensation accompanying it.

His question jolts her into consciousness, and she notices they’re almost at her apartment. “Ah Kurosaki-kun is very curious today,” she laughs nervously, “only one confession per day! That’s the limit!” The fake cheer in her voice grates in her own ears but she hopes desperately it will steer him away because she’s this close to telling him sometimes, and this was one of those times. Especially in these rare moments when she feels an odd mixture of weakness and greed, where she wants to latch on to him and ask him to stay by her side, hoping selfishly that his kindness will make him say yes. But Orihime was practiced at hiding those feelings away.

“Is that right,” he smiles teasingly, albeit weakly, “... I didn’t know you were so mysterious, Inoue. Well goodnight, then.”

And as he watches her climb up the stairs to her floor, and then lean over the railings to wave goodbye one more time, he can’t help but think of that image of her again, happy and in love and so beautifully fulfilled. And he thinks of the shadow of the man next to her, who will protect that dream and that smile, and his stomach clenches bitterly.

“You deserve it,” he whispers to her retreating figure, “... You deserve all of it.”

- fin -

A/N : The ending was cheesy, I KNOW UGH

#ichihime #kurosaki ichigo #inoue orihime #bleach #liquorisce fanfiction

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iaal · 6 years

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Hisoka x Reader NSFW

That’s my first scenario and I’m a bit nervous to post it but hey everyone has to start somewhere ! I had fun writing this and I hope you guys will enjoy reading it even with my clumsy grammar? what grammar? english.

Big thanks to @surpassing-morning for her help in correcting most of my tenses and punctation!

WARNING : MILD BLOOD PLAY, MILD CREEPY HISOKA, MASSIVE PAIN IN THE ASS TRASH CLOWN

"Bite me", you mutter. Hisoka stops to look at you "Could you repeat what you just said?" his smile is soft but his eyes lit up with a predatory glint.

"I said bite me." You move your hips straddling him closer, frustrated at the sudden stillness. He lets out a low chuckle and resume moving. His hands squeeze harder on your ass as he lower you on him again, sinking his teeth in your shoulder.

Not enough. You strengthen the grip on his hair, tighten your legs around his waist. Still not enough.

"Bite harder", you whine.

You feel his dick twitch inside you and a second later you're pushed on you back with Hisoka purring in your ear "How hard do you want it?".

The words coming out of you mouth bear no hesitation "Break the skin."

One of his hand finds its way on your hair and pull your head harshly to the side. You cry out as he bites you hard between the neck and the shoulder making a sound mixing moaning and growling. The movement of his hips become more erratic as he licks and sucks where he had just bite. That's it, that's what you wanted, you're feeling the familiar heat growing in your belly but you still need a little push to get there.

"Again." It came out as nothing but a whisper but Hisoka has heard you loud and clear. His thrusts don't have a rythm anymore he fucks you hard and fast into the matress while his teeth close on your neck again.

"Aaah Hi-Hisoka", you scream, your whole body trembling. You came hard but not as hard as Hisoka if you judge by how loud his moan and panting are, even for him. He rides the last of his orgasm before lying on you his breath labored. You wanted to enjoy the afterglow a bit more but the heavy sweaty man on top of you is making it difficult. You grab some tissues on the night stand and push Hisoka out of you, putting the tissues between your thigs. The bastard came inside, you didn't give him permission this time but you're not feeling like scolding him. You'll need to go to the bathroom but you don't think you'll be able to stand just yet. Hisoka rolls on his back an arm on his eyes, his breathing still fast. You try to control your own breathing letting your body and mind swim in cotton when you hear a giggle.

"You surprised me." You don't need to turn your head to know that he's smilling.

"Mmh?" you manage to respond.

"Asking me to bite you. I must admit I was not expecting that", Hisoka says in a sing-song voice.

"With how hard you came I would say it was a pleasant surprise", you try to use a mocking tone but your own orgasm has made your voice weak and trembling, it doesn't escape Hisoka as he laugh more frankly.

"Oh it was indeed! I didn't know you like pain and it's usually something I pick up quite fast." You bet he does. Even before starting to sleep with him you knew what kind of man Hisoka was, it's not like he tries to hide his nature. You met him at the Heaven's Arena and his reputation inside and outside the ring was known by everyone -- that's why it was so hard to get tickets for his match. You assumed that because you were not a fighter you wouldn't have to worry too much around him -- that didn't mean you were not on your guard. Not really liking the direction the conversation was taking you decide that right now was the time to go to the bathroom and even take a shower hoping the subject would be burried when you get back to bed.

"Well ", you sigh as you get up "I didn't know that I couldn't trust you to pull out".

"Sorry about that~", he doesn't even try to sound sorry.

You look at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom; you'd got two bite marks still bleeding a little on your neck and a smaller one on your shoulder. Now that your mind isn't clouded by lust anymore you're starting to get anxious, it was definitely good but you don't really know how things are going to be now -- you're aware that you have open a door and you're not too sure if it can be close again. Your hope of finding Hisoka asleep died down when you came back from your shower and you saw him sitting in bed playing with his cards. That was a stupid hope, he never fell asleep before you. He looks at you his eyes glued on the proof of your dangerous request -- you force yourself to not cover the marks with your hands and slip under the cover. Hisoka put his cards away and lean closer to you.

"So what were we talking about again ~ ?" he mused tapping a finger on his smilling lips. Of course he wouldn't drop the subject you're just praying that he only wants to tease you about it.

"I don't know, you talk a lot and most of the time I'm only barely listening", you reply grumpily.

"Oh that's mean! I'm always listening very carefully to eveything you say!" he says in a fake insulted tone. The finger on his lips moves to caress your neck just an inch under your punctured skin and his eyes squint as he looms closer “Like for this. I gave all my attention to every words" his voice had dropped an octave lower, licking his lips as he finishes his sentence. He doesn't let you react before continuing "If you had said something sooner I wouldn't have been so gentle with you all this time", he crooned.

"What are you saying? You're always rough", you scoff. You can't say it was his fault, you were the one who set the hard pace in the first place, that's how you like it and Hisoka has only happily obliged but you can't let him call himself "gentle".

"Mmh but not rough enough apparently if you still have request. I only live to satisfy, I can't bare the thought of leaving you still wanting...more." The last word was said on the crook of your neck his hot breath leaving goosebump on your skin -- there were no trace of flirt in his voice anymore and you wanted to leave. Now. Everything in your body was screaming for you to get away.

"I assure you I'm perfectly satisfied or I wouldn't be coming back for more even though you can be incredibly annoying". You kept your voice steady, determined to not show him that fear was starting to propagate in your veins. Maybe you could take his mind on something else if you just taunt him like usual.

"Tell me what you like." It cames out weirdly authoritative. Hisoka tends to cajole you into doing what he wants not order you.

"You know what I like and right now it would be sleeping." You turn your back to him and pull the cover up your chin. It doesn't look good. You have learned to know him a bit and you know how fickle he can be. It's easy for him to get distracted, losing interested quickly on whatever he was doing to jump on something else. Hisoka can also be obsessive, really obsessive. He's like that with some of his opponents, with his cards towers that he can spends hours building just to make them collapse in the end and now he really wants to know what he thought you've been hiding from him.

Hisoka press himself against you, there is no possibility to ignore that he's already rock hard when his dick grind on your ass. "I'm not tired and I would really like to continue what you started earlier", he said snaking an arm around your waist to puts his hand between your thighs. "Tell me what's more you want me to do to you.", his voice is heavy with arousal and came out more gruffy than usual. He doesn't just wants to know; the prospect of hurting you again, this time without getting caught off guard, excites him immensely. You let out a moan as he licks your neck with the flat of his tongue while his fingers start rubbing your clitoris. Your fear adds another layer on your excitation and you feel yourself getting way wetter than you should be in this situation. It's really not good. Hisoka doesn't waste any time and climbs on top of you, opening your legs to place himself between them. You never saw him so straight forward and hurried before, it only fuels your own arousal. You try to push him weakly but you stop when he starts to rub the tip of his dick along your clitoris and down your entrance.

You could come with that alone but you force yourself to speak "Hisoka I'm still sore for earlier I don't feel like going for another round right now." That's a lie, you want him right now and you need every strength left in you to not push your hips forward to slide on his dick. You're resolute to not letting lust fried your brain this time.

"Really? You seem to be feeling it if you were to ask me." He bites on the side of your neck that was left untouched earlier, not too hard but enough for you to clasp your mouth shut to swallow another moan. "Do you want me to stop now?", he punctuate his question with another bite, harder this time.

"Yes. Stop." Your words have him froze. He didn't actually expected you to take on his offer and it has backfire, it gaves you an easy way out without having to think of an excuse. He sits back on his talon and looks attentively at your face, tilting his head to the side, searching for the reason of your rejection. He must have found it because a smile split his face in two a couple of minutes later before he began to laugh. You're looking at him, being the one confused this time.

"You're scared!" He finally says still laughing. Being exposed makes you more uneasy, you don't know much about killer but you know that you shouldn't show fear in front of a predator and Hisoka is very much that, a predator and you had let him, worst, asked him to take a bit of you and now you have no idea if you'd end up being eaten alive.

"Scared?" you repeat stupidly.

"Yes you're scared of me!" His expression is of pure childish joy, his eyes are gleaming and you could almost descibe his smile as innocent, almost, making the situation more terrifying. He must have caught the change of your expression because his laughter restarts louder.

"You were never afraid...haha.. never afraid of me, at least not in our...ha...our intimate moments", he managed to says through his hilarity. You can't always say that you understand Hisoka sense of humour, you don't spend time with him for his lame joke but this time you were speechless. What's so funny about you being frightened? You sit up straighter to look at him trying to comprehend where the funny part lies or if maybe he's just out of his mind. You don't exclude the latter possibility.

"So", he chortled as the last of his laughter is dying "You like pain but you were keeping that information from me because you didn't know how far I would go. Now because the secret is out of the box after... should I call it your slip up?" he hummed opening a hand in front of him as if he was waiting for you to answer. You stay silent, reluctant to give Hisoka more proof of your fear. He let out a chuckle before resuming "After your slip up then, you're presently scared that I would want to tear of your limbs one by one and plunge my hands in you innards as you meet a slow horrendous end." His smile was growing wider and darker as he talks but his tone stayed light-hearted and playful. You gulp audibly feeling your throat going dry.

"Am I correct?"

What was he expecting you to say? He was spot on obviously but it's not like you could admit that he managed to scare you shitless without really doing anything nor can you deny that he was right. You just nod, not trusting your voice anyway.

"You wound me!" He made an exagerate hurt face placing his hand on his heart "What do you think I am? An animal?" You won't say that it was exactly how you portrayed him in your head a few moment earlier. You avert his gaze and hug your legs, you feel a bit ashamed to have show him weakness, not that anyone would blame you, he is scary and he would have no remorse killing you right now, you don't kid yourself. Every person who knows about your relation with the Heaven's Arena champion think you're crazy to simply allow yourself to be alone in the same room as him -- but the truth is, as creepy and infuriating as he can be he has never hurt you nor used his vastly superior strenght to force you to anything. Lost in you thought you didn't notice Hisoka coming closer until he was right in front of you arboring the stupidest smile you ever saw him wearing on his face.

"You're cute", he says placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Are you done making fun of me?" You mumble feeling your cheeks heating up.

"Mh no I don't think I am ~ . You're always so full of surprise you never disappointed me ~ " Hisoka praised, laughter still on his voice. He puts his heads on your knees looking at you through his bang.

"Now that you hurt my feelings how are you going to apologize?" he sigh feigning sadness. You roll your eyes biting your cheek to not ask him how HE will compensate you for the ten years of your life you just lost due to stress in the last hour. Hisoka doesn't seems to care, his hand already cupping your ass and his eyes looking at you with need.

"Fine, would that make you feel better?" you humour him, pushing yourself down to lay on your back. "I can't have you broken heart". You're not sure if Hisoka have a heart and even if he have one you don't think it would be even possible to put a scratch on it but you want him, you want that dangerous mess of a man.

"Mmmmh maybe, it's a start at least." He moves to resume his previous positions between your thighs. "Would you tell me what you like?" He starts licking at your neck, going lower toward your breast.

"Mh maybe"

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hisoka #hisoka morow #hisoka scenario #trash clown #smut #If there are mistakes that make your eyes bleed let me know!#the stupid smile Hisoka make near the end #is the one when he first met Gon #you know the one #english is hard

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chaoticneutralchocolate · 5 years

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Narumitsu Week Day 1: Beginnings

You can follow it in AO3 too here, where I’ll post the rest of the story based on the prompts!

It’s my first time writing about those two dorks ― and in English! I hope both the grammar and the story are worth enough to be read. Enjoy :)

Chapter 1: Beginnings

He really shouldn’t be doing this.

He should be either studying for his bar exam or getting some sleep and yet he found himself waiting for a stupid song to pop up in a stupid radio show like a stupid moron. What a fool. Hmm, Franziska was rubbing on him.

“After all those months… he has probably forgotten” he sighed, “or maybe he doesn’t care any more.”

Miles got up from his bed for the first time in almost five hours, two of them laying with his laptop over him. He stretched his arms in a completely not enough classy way for him but, thankfully, nobody was there to judge. He was sore and tired when he checked his watch.

“4:13 already.”

It was awfully late and just two days before his, up to this date, most important exam ever. And yet, he wasn’t studying or sleeping, he could only thank God ―or whoever was responsible― for Internet and the online radio.

And, of course, he also had to blame those goddamn 15 hours apart he had to face to listen to that ridiculous American radio show. It was stupid, of course, he could simply record it and listen to it during lunch like he usually did, no need to listen to it live.

But it was a special day.

And yet, he knew it was foolish. The last months he only got radio silence, quite literally. He shook his head, trying to avoid those thoughts, and walked to his desk where he opened the second left drawer and picked up some hand-written papers.

It was an old tradition he should keep, he kept telling himself every time he picked up his fountain pen to embarrass himself again. It began as soon as he moved with the von Karmas when he was only nine years old. Back in the day, there weren’t any other ways of communication and, fortunately, he knew that man’s―well, kid at that time― address back then so why not write him a letter to let him know how was he?

Miles was a bright boy so, from the beginning, he always wrote two letters ―just in case they went missing, that way he always had a copy to hand personally given the opportunity― but, after eight months and no answers, he realised that his letters probably never left the mansion ―not in an envelope and in a safe condition, at the very least―. Then he decided to keep writing to him but this time the letters, like the copycat ones, never left his room and he simply treasured them.

Sooner or later it would come to this, obviously. With no way of contacting he wouldn’t be able to know if his old friend ever moved so, why make the effort of sending a letter to the wrong place?

No, those letters belong with him.

Over the years he had exposed a lot on those letters. He was safer like this, keeping them close. The most coward part of himself even told him to burn them from time to time. Some days it was difficult not to listen.

Miles put the letters back on the drawer and grabbed his fountain pen, a couple of sheets of paper and a notebook to help him write on. He went back to his bed but this time he didn’t put the laptop over himself and simply put the headphones on again after finding a comfortable posture against the pillows. Only then he realised that the show had stopped and he was listening to commercials instead. He panicked for a bit, believing he had missed the rest of the show but the hour on his computer told him otherwise. He sighed and relaxed, only to began, once again, to write a new letter.

It was silly ―or, as his sister would say, foolish―, he knew, that childhood friend was now an unknown man and he couldn’t believe they would have the chance to be that close again. Still, he poured all of himself on words again, aware of the fact that those pieces of paper had been his closest friend from the last decade.

He had disposed of two sheets of paper already ―because they weren’t worth enough to be read― when the radio show came back from commercials. He checked the time again, 4:32, less than half an hour for the show to end. Miles straightened himself on the mattress, “it’s not going to happen” he muttered.

He rolled on his bed to get closer to the laptop, ready to close the not-so-legal online service that allowed him to listen to other countries’ radios live. But he stopped midway.

A familiar tune has started to play, much to his surprise. Not because he wasn’t hoping it would start playing sooner or later but just because he wasn’t expecting it.

You know, hopes and expectations are quite similar but, sometimes, they represented opposite concepts. You can hope to pass an exam and yet expect to fail it. You can hope to be accepted and yet expect to be left alone ―again―. As we all have felt sometimes, you can hope to be loved back and yet expect to be rejected.

And there was he, fulfilling his hopes and breaking his expectations. The half-written letter had fallen to the floor, now forgotten, and the laptop was now again, full-volume, over Miles’ lap. Finally, the opening of one of the best TV-series ever ―all according to Mr Edgeworth over there― finally ended, the radio speaker’s voice filled the silence.

“And our last song request today comes with a special message from ―a pause, she was probably checking her notes, thought the overworking brain of Miles― Blue.”

Miles’ heart stopped for a bit. Then he prayed for it to not become a habit. Okay, Miles, now it’s not time to worry about non-existing heart conditions, keep listening to the radio, you foolish fool. And he did, he was quite scared about that part of his brain that talked like Franziska.

The radio speaker started reading the message:

“I’m so sorry for all this time I haven’t checked on you. Honestly, I’m still not sure if you would be listening to this show any more after my sudden disappearance. But, even if you are not listening, I felt the need to say this because it’s the truth: I think about you every single day. Happy birthday, Red.”

Miles stared blankly at the screen for an immeasurable amount of time, he didn’t hear the radio speaker saying how cute she thought the message was. He was just there laying, being. Once he felt like moving again, he didn’t bother to turn off the computer or even moving it back to his desk. No, he simply slithered under the sheets.

He didn’t feel the need to study any more.

Miles already knew what he needed to know.

#nmweek19 #narumitsu #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #wrightworth #ace attorney

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langernameohnebedeutung · 5 years

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Would you have any recommendations on where one could hear/learn a German accent? I'm learning the language but my most recent teacher said that my accent/pronunciation is not very good despite being at a B1 level. I think this is probably due to I have not one, not two, but THREE separate American accents already because of how many times we moved when I was younger, so adding another accent is hell my mouth cannot keep up. Thanks for your time.

Hey sorry that I took my time answering this.Okay, first of, Josie’s personal opinion time (feel free to skip this lmao): It’s not bad to have an accent. Everyone has an accent - not just because of your native tongue but also because of the people around you, your class, family, friends or whoever you practice with. I have a German accent and probably always will have, because I learnt English from teachers with German accents, with partners and fellow pupils who had a German accent and now I study English at a German university and people around me still speak with the same accent. 90% of the conversations I hold in English are German-accented English. But at this point, I refuse to consider my accent “inferior” to...a Yorkshire accent or a New York accent just because those are “native” accents. Of course, it’s also not bad or anything to want to sound like a native speaker and I’m not going to tell you that if you truly want to speak like a native-speaker you shouldn’t pursue that interest - but it’s something few people really 100% accomplish, so pls make sure you’re not putting the actually important things like vocab, grammar and you know - enjoyment - on hold to pursue something really elusive that your teacher thinks is important. It is very hard to accomplish especially for someone not living in Germany and Germany is a country with a lot of different regional and foreign accents, so most of us have some experience with different pronunciations - so you will most likely be understood.

Now, the my actual answer to your question:

Listening to people always helps, so does talking. I noticed it when I was still in school. I started watching American shows and it strongly affected my vocabulary and pronunciation - mind you, we were taught to speak strictly British English, American English was an evil taboo - but later I discovered my love for British films and tv shows and I reverted to the English I learnt at school, for the most part (not regarding the language level but the variety). So I definitely recommend exposing yourself to native German-speakers bc otherwise, your main influence will be your fellow students.

There are a lot of German shows on Netflix - you can check if some of them have English subtitles, I know “Dark” for example does. (I’m not sure about Vorstadtweiber, but if you want to get a taste of a Viennese accent, this might also be fun to check out. “Extra3″ is a German satire show that puts all its episodes on Youtube and with a VPN you can also access the ZDF Mediathek and RTL-Now, two very big German tv channels).

It’s especially helpful to watch out for words you’ve so far only seen in their written form so that you know you struggle with. If you hear them, maybe stop the video and try to repeat it. If you’re interested in specific accents from specific regions (which might be a bit hard, mind you) you can also look for some source material from different regions. For example the German audio of “My Fair Lady” has her speaking with a very thick Berliner accent instead of Cockney, so that’s something you might find interesting bc it’s a film you might already be familiar with. Another tip: I noticed about myself that I easily start thinking in another language, even if I’m really far from fluent and miss words. And doing that I noticed that my inner monologue still has a German accent but it’s much weaker than when you know. my actual physical mouth is involved, for some reason. I can also imitate different English accents in my head much better than I can when I speak - you might try that and even talk to yourself. If there’s no one to tell you you are doing it wrong, it becomes much easier to experiment and have fun with language.

In my experience, it also helps to imitate the accent the speakers of your target language have while speaking your language: I noticed that when I was practising Russian on duolingo: Now, duolingo makes you repeat sentences to practice your pronunciation and my Russian pronunciation was horrible - until I purposefully tried to sound “Russian” - suddenly Duo understood what I was saying. So you might try to speak German with what feels like an exaggerated German accent to you, even if it feels weird at first. (I do the same when I want to sound British)Another thing that helped me (much more than teachers ever did) is to watch English people contemplate and imitate and play with German accents - because even if it’s something I made fun of a lot these last days, it’s interesting and helpful, because if done for comedic or storytelling purposes (I’m going to give an example of that later on), it often highlights the aspects that make it sound different from a native pronunciation and help you localise these aspects in your own language use. That said - the reason I make fun especially of British people playing Germans is that their accents are often based on other British people pretending to be German, not actual Germans so it sounds...very different from the way we speak English. So keep in mind that it’s not always authentic. (Personally, I still think I learnt how not to pronounce the word “convenience” from an episode of Blackadder but that’s another story)

Okay I threatened that I would add an example on how accents in media might help you understand your own accent better:

There are many examples of English-speakers pretending to speak German, but since you are already at B1 and probably speak better German than most of them (many just say stuff without knowing the words or even...just make up sounds that they think sound German), so I picked a film scene that I mentioned in a post a few days ago: the pub scene from Inglorious Basterds (which I saw on youtube is apparently popular for language teaching purposes).

It’s interesting because Michael Fassbender is half-German and knows the language somewhat so he at least knows what the words he’s saying mean. Also, he’s surrounded by native speakers which make for good comparison material. (mind you, Inglorious Basterds is obv. a film about the NS-era so while the German they speak sounds rather modern, I can understand if you would like to avoid that content. Especially since the second video ends in a shooting.) I couldn’t find the whole scene online but if you have the DVD, you might want to look into it, because it’s much longer than the excerpts I found online and maybe you can spot more of the language patterns I will point. (It also has Christoph Waltz in it and his Austrian dialect which might also be interesting to you)

Now, what you need to know is that Fassbender plays an English spy pretending to be a German officer - but when someone points out his accent, he tries to pretend to be Swiss. He does a pretty good job speaking German actually and a German would understand every word he is saying (unlike we do with some other actors pretending to speak German) - but it’s also very obvious with every word that he’s not a native speaker (and no one would actually mistake him for Swiss.) (btw if you want to check out what an actual Swiss dialect sounds like: (x) (I could imagine it’s very difficult for English speakers, because it has a lot of “ch” sounds and is very guttural.

Now, back to Inglorious Basterds:

The first thing that’s very interesting to look at is the first 30 seconds of the first video because it’s clear that they made Fassbender exaggerate his accent because in that scene it leads to a German soldier he’s talking to noticing and pointing out his strange pronunciation. At 0:35 in the first video it’s very, very obvious when he yells the word “zurückkehren” (which finally makes the soldier address the issue)- because he pronounces it “zurück-kerr-än” - a very typical pronunciation with an English accent. Whereas a German would usually say: zurück-kehr’n” (You can compare it to one of the Germans saying “zurückkehren” at minute 2:30) It is also interesting to compare how Fassbender pronounces an “r” vs. how the Germans do it - because he pronounces it like you would in English, while the German “r” sound is a bit harsher and produced a little bit further back in the throat. (Tip: If You can feel it vibrate in your mouth, you’re doing it rrrright).

When he says “rrrrrüpelhaft” it seems as if he’s trying to pronounce the “r” like a native speaker there - but overdoes it. (Fassbender does the same exaggerated “r” sound at 2:56 with the word “Regisseur” and at 2:33 with “Riefenstahl”) - which just sounds a bit off. Compare it to Til Schweiger at 1:00 saying “betrunken (oder völlig) verrückt”. btw If you compare the way Schweiger says “sprechen” in that sentence with Michael Fassbender saying “sprechen” at 2:35 you will also notice the difference in the way they pronounce the “ch”.In that sequence at 2:30, Fassbender also says “gesehen” a lot - and always pronounces it G-esehen, while a German would probably pronounce it ge-seh-’n

youtube

Something that many German learners struggle with - that you can observe in these videos as well - is the pronunciation of infinitive verbs. German verbs, as you know, usually end in “-en” (gehen, sagen, sprechen, hoffen. etc). Now, German speakers usually barely utter the second “e” at all, it’s often: geh’n, sag’n, sprech’n - it*s something that sounds a little off sometimes when Fassbender speaks, because he often puts more emphasis on it than a German would for example when he asks “Haben Sie den Riefenstahl Film gesehen?” or at 3:24 in the second video when he says “aufsteh.en.”You can also observe the impact of the native English - at 2:50 when he says “Brüder” it comes out as “Brüddr” which sounds a lot like “brother” - while in German, the “ü” is stressed and the “r” is almost inaudible.I think the biggest challenge for English-speakers is the “ch” (which unexperienced speakers often turn into a “k” sound - for example turning “Nacht” into “nackt”, always fun). You can see Fassbender struggle a little with that a few times as well (it’s particularly important to keep in mind that there are two “ch” sounds - the one produced in the front of your mouth like in “ich” or “frech” or the one produced farther back in your mouth like in “Nacht” or “Bach” - so if you encounter a word with a “ch”, it’s best to check out which one it is.You can also see him struggle with the long words in German - he basically forces “tausendjähriges” out very quickly which sounds very strange and mechanical and at 3:20 in the second video he has a different strategy and stresses EVERY part of the world Hauptsturmbannführer: “Haupt. Sturm. Bann. Führer.” which sounds ... strange even when done for dramatic purposes. You can compare that to the way the German actor says the same word at 3:31. (especially if you pay attention to how they pronounce “Führer” you will notice the proximity issue. “Führer” is a word that many English-speakers find difficult to pronounce and I think it’s a) because many English-speakers are familiar with the word “Führer” but never heard a German pronounce it b) because of the close proximity of an “ü” and two “r” sounds. When Fassbender pronounces “Führer” it sounds very much like an English person would pronounce the world in an English context while the German guy pronounces it like a German does - that’s something else to keep in mind, that words you might be familiar with like “Volkswagen” or “Weltschmerz” or any of the others are usually pronounced with an accent when English-speakers use them (The same is, of course, true for any other loan words)

youtube

There*s a similar scene in First Class also with Michael Fassbender sitting in a pub with Nazis (seriously that’s... a huge part of his repertoire it seems) which you might want to check out bc again, he speaks German and the other guys are native speakers so if you want to keep looking for different pronunciations and accents, it might be interesting.

(Also “Auslautverhärtung” is a big issue with English-speakers and German-speakers. The reason why German speakers tend to say things like “sayin-k” and “goin-k” and “leavin-k” is because the last sound of a word is usually spoken harsher in German than it is English. English-speakers often have the opposite problem and swallow the last sound a little. I didn’t notice particularly jarring examples of that in these scenes, but it’s still something to keep in mind)

All of that said and done and dissected, I think natural development and interacting with native speakers is much more effective and fun than just trying to avoid certain pronunciations or imitate how other people sound, especially bc I don’t want to bore you with technicalities or even worse, make you nervous about speaking because honestly? Accents are fun and everyone has them. Don’t worry too much about it

If you speak slowly, people will understand you and if you spend some time around native speakers, it will help a lot, it has a strong impact on the way you speak (so obviously i recommend listening to a lot of spoken German, watch films, shows, youtube etc.) And yes, pronunciation is important - you need to be understood after all - but having an accent is natural. Everyone has at least a regional accent and I don’t understand why foreign accents are automatically considered a flaw or a sign that someone isn’t able to communicate fully in that language they learnt.

I recommend you focus on words and grammar and listening and reading comprehension and let things grow naturally and don’t actually enjoy having an accent. There’s nothing wrong with it.

#nonfandom #languages #Anonymous

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hopethishelpsthings-blog · 5 years

Text

Number 1

My first post on this website and I’m starting it at 3:44 in the morning, how classic for me, the girl with the sleeping schedule so messed she’s going to bed at 6am in the morning. I need to clarify before I even begin to start this post that even though I’m pretty sure I’ll be the only one to read it/get any use out of it, I do not promise perfect grammar, paragraphs or English. Even though I’m a native speaker and am a university student, I’m not willing to start stressing about that.

I never thought I’d be the person to need to write a blog or keep a diary to get my feelings/thoughts out, maybe I’ve just got to this point due to years of keeping them in, whether they be good or bad. I say I’ve never kept a diary but I 100% had one in year 6 that I took in one day and put in my drawer out of hopes someone would find it and people might talk about me for once, since I felt so invisible to everyone. I find it funny when I look back and want so badly to say ‘Liz!*, What are you doing?!!’. I don’t know why I’d ever wanted anyone to know my business at the age of 11, maybe it’s because my friends at the time were starting to isolate me (something that finally happened when I was 12, thanks to one stupid mistake I made).

That time in my life still follows me around to this day, it might even be the reason I have issues with feeling alone in a room of people, even now at the age of 21. I guess I’ve never really thought about where it stemmed from before because even though I had a difficult time as a teenager, I always had friends who cared about me in some capacity even if it was for selfish reasons on a lot of their parts. I know some people don’t even have that so I do consider myself lucky.

I’m slowly trying to remember why I started this post and honestly I think it’s just me trying to make sense of why I’ve felt so withdrawn recently. Right now, I am so happy with many things in my life including my wonderful boyfriend who is so supportive and my equally as wonderful friends. But there are also lots of things I don’t understand, like why my mum had to lose her husband of 30 years in her early 50′s, and why my best friend of 4 years could not come through when I needed him most. It’s starting to feel like the second I get on top of one thing, another begins to creep up behind it showing it’s devil horns.

One of those things always seems to be guilt, asking why I couldn’t be of more help when my father was ill, or why I couldn’t convince Ray* to stay. Another always seems to be this feeling that no matter how many of these things I do try my hardest to sort out/get through, it’s never going to get any easier. That’s the hardest part to struggle with, that there’s no do-overs or changing things I could have handled better, not that I take responsibility for everything that has happened in my life in recent years.

I think my overthinking and self-blame stems mostly from the painful fact that I can never tell what’s going on in someone else’s mind (although I’m not 100% sure that I’d like to a lot of the time!). I think because I know how vicious my own mind can be, not just about myself but about others too, I’m scared at the thought that others could be thinking the worst of me. Thinking to myself ‘I mean if they’re not talking to me, they must hate me right?!’. Then again, that’s probably because I’m a people pleaser and I hate not making everyone around me smile like I can on a good day.

This post has been an absolute mess but I think I just needed to get off my mind everything that’s going through it at the moment. I don’t know how but somehow I feel like this helped a lot and I think as days go by, maybe I’ll be better at structuring this!

The best way I think this could help is probably by making blogs about certain topics so I can’t go off on a tangent and can fully immerse myself on my feelings about one thing.

If anyone actually reads this (which i doubt since it’s a big boy post), I’m sorry it’s a bit of a downer but I’m glad to be able to have this outlet.

Till tomorrow (probably if I want to), Bye!

*names changed because this is my own lil secret

#blog #first #thoughts #i dont know #i hope this works #hope #young adult

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kanasmusings · 6 years

Text

[Translation] StarMyu Season 2 DVD Vol. 4 Special Drama Track 1

More StarMyu drama tracks, yay~! This is the track that comes before Hachiya’s drama www It’s all about them studying and competing about who gets the better grades LOL.

※ Please don’t re-post these translations without permission. Instead of reposting, please just like/reblog instead ^^

Under the cut, enjoy~!

[スタミュin定期試験・2年生編] “StarMyu in End of Term Exams – 2nd Year Chapter”

[0:00]

HOSHITANI: April. There was only one month left before the graduation performances.

HOSHITANI: Rehearsals are going well and we’re more focused than ever! But…

HOSHITANI: One difficult part of being a student is not being able to completely focus on that…

HOSHITANI: Yes! It’s our end-of-term exams… My very own day of tribulations are about to begin…

HOSHITANI: Volume 4: Special Drama CD.

ALL: StarMyu in End-of-term Exams: 2nd Year Chapter.

[0:48]

HOSHITANI: And so… This season has come again~…

HOSHITANI: Please help me study, oh great Tengenji Kakeru!!

TENGENJI: Again, you boor?! In the first place, how many days do you think are left before the test, huh?

HOSHITANI: U-um… One day?

TENGENJI: Why didn’t you start studying earlier?!

HOSHITANI: Um… I thought that you were busy with rehearsals, too, so…

TENGENJI: You having to rely on others (to study) in the first place makes you hopeless!

TENGENJI: Can’t you understand it by yourself when it’s taught?!

HOSHITANI: I-I can do it, too! B-but, the way our brains work is different.

HOSHITANI: I’m not like you or Tsukigami.

TENGENJI: Geez… I’d be troubled if you keep relying on me.

TENGENJI: (sighs and then clears throat) W-well… I-I happen to be free today, too.

TENGENJI: It would be okay to help the pitiful—

HOSHITANI: THANK YOU, TENGENJI!! I BELIEVED IN YOU~!!

TENGENJI: AH! Don’t jump me! I’ll fall from the chair! Tavian will wake up, you boor!

HOSHITANI: Ah, I’m sorry~ I’m sorry, too, Tavian~

TENGENJI: So, what happened to Tsukigami?

HOSHITANI: Eh?

TENGENJI: No matter how you think about it, watching over someone as easily distracted as you is hard work!

TENGENJI: I need a watcher.

HOSHITANI: I’m not Tsukigami’s problem when it comes to studying.

HOSHITANI: He already has Kuga.

TENGENJI: Ah…

TENGENJI: Then what about Nayuki?

HOSHITANI: Nayuki went home to his parents’ house.

TENGENJI: How does that happen a lot?!

HOSHITANI: (laughs) It’s okay~! I’ll study properly! I brought a lot to help with it!

TENGENJI: Huh?

HOSHITANI: It might take long so snacks are needed, right? And also, we might want to have a change of pace so I brought Tavian some toys~

HOSHITANI: Oh! I have some snacks for cats, too~

TENGENJI: You have no plans of focusing, do you?!

HOSHITANI: (shrieks) I’M SORRY!

TENGENJI: Geez… Still, I understand that it’s kind of difficult to focus in this room when there’s a healing angel around.

TENGENJI: The only choice we have is to study elsewhere.

[02:55]

HOSHITANI: And so, we’re here at the lounge~ Uh… Huh?

TENGENJI: Huh? What’s wrong?

HOSHITANI: It looks like there are visitors…

TENGENJI: Huh?

HACHIYA: Ah, Ageha, the kanji here is wrong.

AGEHA: Where?

HACHIYA: (points on the notebook) Here. Hm? This one’s wrong, too…

HACHIYA: And this one, and that one, too… Ah, you can’t write such simple kanji in hiragana, you know?

AGEHA: Are you making fun of me?

HACHIYA: Ah, no, no.

HOSHITANI: (walking towards them) Ageha, Hachiya~

AGEHA: (excitedly) Yuuta! (back in his monotone voice) And the Kabuki Noble…

TENGENJI: You totally have no interest in me, huh.

HACHIYA: A-ah, I’m sorry about that, Tengenji-kun.

HOSHITANI: What are you doing in this dorm? You’re in the 2nd dorm, aren’t you?

AGEHA: We were studying for the exam.

HACHIYA: Our dorm’s exterior is being renovated so it’s a bit noisy.

HACHIYA: So, we were borrowing the lounge here for a while.

HOSHITANI: Ageha… You have Hachiya help you study?

HOSHITANI: Are you… (excited) bad at studying, too~!?

HACHIYA: (nervous chuckle)

HOSHITANI: ALRIGHT! I found a friend!!

TENGENJI: That’s not something to be happy about! How unsightly!

AGEHA: Yuuta, you’re bad at studying, too…?

HOSHITANI: Yeah! That’s why I have Tengenji and the others help me to not get a failing score!

HACHIYA: Just like Ageha.

AGEHA: The same… as Yuuta…

HOSHITANI: I knew we had something else in common~

AGEHA: Yeah.

TENGENJI: Don’t be sympathetic to something so lame, you boors!

[04:22]

REN: Ah, Koki, we have visitors.

ALL: Huh?

REN: What are you all doing here?

NANJO: Heya~

HOSHITANI: Kitahara, Nanjo.

TENGENJI: The people keep multiplying…

AGEHA: The worst.

HACHIYA: A-Ageha…!

NANJO: (laughs) You’ve gotten along so well with Miracle Hoshitani but you still treat me the same, huh? Not that I care though.

AGEHA: Hmph.

HACHIYA: I’m sorry about this always, Nanjo-kun.

NANJO: It’s okay, really.

(Ren sits down)

REN: So, what are you losers doing? Killing time?

TENGENJI: Studying for the exam!

NANJO: All four of you?! I personally think that that’s too many…

HOSHITANI: Only Ageha and I are studying. Tengenji and Hachiya are our teachers.

HOSHITANI: Right, Ageha?

AGEHA: Yeah.

NANJO: Heh… So it’s the same as us.

HOSHITANI: Eh? Really?

NANJO: I came here to watch over Ren’s studies, too.

NANJO: They’re cleaning in my room at the 2nd dorm and Toraishi’s studying like crazy in Ren’s room.

NANJO: Toraishi said he can’t concentrate when someone’s there~

REN: That Izumi gets so fired up before an exam, huh.

REN: Stupid, right?

NANJO: I don’t think you have the right to say that, Ren~

HOSHITANI: (whispering) Tengenji, is Toraishi still competing against you in academics?

TENGENJI: (scoffs) He sure loves wasting effort when he knows he can’t beat me.

HACHIYA: It seems to be getting livelier with more people around.

HOSHITANI: I’m getting excited, too! I feel like I can concentrate more with study buddies~!

TENGENJI: Don’t lie, you!

AGEHA: We don’t need Nanjo Koki.

NANJO: Then how about you move someplace else?

AGEHA: How about you move somewhere else?

HOSHITANI: Ah, no fighting! I’ll sit next to Ageha~

TENGENJI: (sighs) Geez…

HOSHITANI: Alright~ Let’s all do our best to not get failing scores!

TENGENJI/NANJO: (sighs)

HACHIYA: Yes!

[06:16]

HACHIYA: Then, we’ll be continuing where we left off.

HACHIYA: Ah, Ageha, the kanji there is wrong, too.

AGEHA: Ah…

TENGENJI: (sighs) Let’s start, too. What subject do you wanna start with?

HOSHITANI: Then, uh… Math! It’s my worst subject in tomorrow’s exam.

TENGENJI: Alright. Open your textbook quickly!

HOSHITANI: Yes! I will be in your care!

NANJO: Ren, let’s start with English. It was your worst subject during the midterms.

REN: Shut it.

NANJO: Here, this page. Translate it (to English).

REN: Y-yeah…

(Ren starts writing on his notebook)

REN: H-huh…? Like this…? Um…

NANJO: Ren, the spelling’s wrong.

REN: Huh? Ah, here? (Ren erases what he wrote)

NANJO: Can you give me a break already?

NANJO: I mean, you already learned it in class. I get that you can be confused with the grammar but, at least get the spelling right.

NANJO: You do have brain cells, don’t you?

REN: Huh? Of course I do. Guilty.

NANJO: Ah~ You do have them but it’s not like they’re working, huh?

NANJO: I figured~ I mean, you got such a simple spelling wrong so I’m surprised that you even have them.

NANJO: By the way, Ren~ That translation for the first part is wrong~

REN: Eh? For real?!

NANJO: I’ll ask you this. You’re not joking, are you? Well, you’re wasting my precious time so I guess you’re not joking.

NANJO: I mean, you already get good enough grades even without a trial exam. You’re seriously just trying to ruin my time~

NANJO: By the way, for me personally, helping someone work over their mistakes is the number one most useless way of wasting time.

NANJO: Though, I guess you wouldn’t know how that feels, huh~ (laughs)

TENGENJI: H-hey…

HOSHITANI: N-Nanjo… You don’t have to go that far…

HACHIYA: We’ve been listening all this while but… I don’t think that’ll help Kitahara-kun…

NANJO: Ah, it’s okay~ If you don’t badmouth this guy he won’t have any motivation.

NANJO: Right, Ren?

TENGENJI/HACHIYA/ HOSHITANI: Eh…?!

REN: Pretty much. How do I put it…? Until that person is able to make me surrender, it wouldn’t work at all.

NANJO: Though, I don’t know how long it’ll take you to do that with my academic intellect~

NANJO: Really, Ren. You have a good looking face but your brain is only muscles.

REN: Hey, Koki. Even that’s going kinda far.

NANJO: I mean, it’s true, right~? If you had a good enough brain then you’ll get good enough scores.

NANJO: Is it possible for you to pick some brain cells up somewhere?

REN: (scoffs) You said it, huh? Guilty~

NANJO: I mean, for me personally, your sentence should be life imprisonment. Guilty over guilty, see~?

NANJO/REN: (laughs)

[09:00]

HOSHITANI: (shrieks quietly)

TENGENJI: (whispering) He got dissed so badly and yet… he’s still laughing…

HOSHITANI: (whispering) I get called positive a lot but… Isn’t Kitahara more amazing?

AGEHA: It’s more appropriate to call him a total M (masochist) instead of positive.

TENGENJI/HOSHITANI: Ah… Yeah…

NANJO: Still, this guy’s grades might be bad but, he’s got a lot of cute points as a student~

NANJO: He pulls through all the time, y’know?

REN: Of course. Plus, my grades aren’t always that bad to start with.

REN: The guys who graduated from Ayanagi’s middle school are just too damn smart.

HOSHITANI: Ah, I totally get it! Nayuki, Tsukigami, and Tatsumi and Sawatari are all smart, too!

REN: Hah? Don’t lump me in with you. I saw your results during the midterms.

REN: Your scores were waaaay less than mine. You’re guilty.

HOSHITANI: (nervous laughter)

TENGENJI: Hey! I can’t let that go after hearing it.

TENGENJI: It’s true that Hoshitani’s grades are atrocious but, compared to last year, it’s not that bad at all!

TENGENJI: Have you ever had a supplementary exam because of a failing grade, huh?!

HOSHITANI: T-Tengenji… Don’t expose me like that…

NANJO: True. That hasn’t happened to Ren.

NANJO: Though, Ren has had an all 40-point streak last year~

TENGENJI: All 40-points, you say…?!

NANJO: Compared to that, he’s gotten so much better, right~? Like Ren says, being lumped in with Hoshitani is a violation.

TENGENJI: WHAT?! You bastard, what’d you say about someone else’s student?!

HOSHITANI: Tengenji!

REN: (scoffs) Don’t get worked up, Mr. Kabuki Noble. It can’t be helped.

REN: Hoshitani, Ageha, me. Among the three of us, I’m the one with the best grades no matter how you look at it.

REN: Even if the test is tomorrow, the results will be the same.

TENGENJI: HUH?! You bastard—

(Tengenji tries to fight Ren but Hachiya and Hoshitani stop him)

HOSHITANI: Tengenji…!

HACHIYA: Please calm down!

AGEHA: I can’t let those words go.

ALL: Huh?

AGEHA: My grades have gotten better, too. Compared to my first year grades.

HACHIYA: A-Ageha?

AGEHA: I definitely won’t lose to someone like Nanjo Koki’s student.

REN: Huh? Now, you’ve done it.

NANJO: (laughs) Isn’t he just re-directing his hatred for me towards someone else~?

HACHIYA: Ageha, please don’t say something so unreasonable!

HOSHITANI: Unreasonable?

HACHIYA: There has been a time when Ageha got 30 points on all his tests last year.

HOSHITANI: 30 points?!

TENGENJI: (snickering and then bursts out in laughter)

HOSHITANI: Tengenji?

TENGENJI: Each one of you’re no big deal at all!

TENGENJI: You keep bragging like it’s something great but, my, a.k.a. Mr. Perfect’s student, Hoshitani is not gonna lose to any one of you!

HOSHITANI: EH?!

TENGENJI: Listen, Hoshitani. Today’s study session will be a special service. I’ll teach you anything and everything you need so make sure to get a better score than these losers!

HOSHITANI: N-no way…!

REN: I don’t know about getting excited over tests but, I’ll do this perfectly. I’d be guilty if I don’t win.

REN: Koki, let’s study until we make these guys cry.

NANJO: You’re getting pretty fired up over something pointless, Ren~

HACHIYA: A-Ageha, I think you better back down…

HACHIYA: Nanjo-kun and Tengenji-kun are really smart and proper teachers. I can’t even compare to them.

AGEHA: That’s exactly why Nanjo Koki’s student is making fun of me.

AGEHA: You dare to even call yourself the top star’s teammate?

HACHIYA: E-eh…?

HOSHITANI: Th-this is turning into something troubling…

NANJO: By the way, for me personally, this seems like a great way to kill time~

HACHIYA: (groans)

AGEHA: I definitely won’t lose.

REN: Bring it on.

TENGENJI: Don’t embarrass me, Hoshitani.

(Tengenji, Ren, and Nanjo laugh evilly)

HOSHITANI/HACHIYA: (sighs)

[13:00]

HOSHITANI: (sighs) This time’s study session was so difficult…

TENGENJI: I watched over your studying carefully. You better feel blessed.

HACHIYA: Th-the day has finally come… The day when we’ll find out our study session’s results…

HACHIYA: Ageha, are you prepared?

AGEHA: You’re the one who’s not prepared, right?

REN: Listen, Hoshitani, Ageha. This is a battle to see who scored better in all the subjects compared to last year’s results.

REN: Though, it’s no use to actually expect anything from you both.

TENGENJI: WHAT?!

AGEHA: That’s my line.

NANJO: Ah, looks like they’re bringing it out.

(the results are posted and students are exclaiming)

HOSHITANI: Ah, there’s my name! My scores went up!

TENGENJI: Really?!

HOSHITANI: Yeah! Plus, my average rose by 10 points!

HOSHITANI: Tengenji, I did it!

AGEHA: Mine went up, too. My average also rose by 10 points.

HACHIYA: Ageha, you did it!

REN: (scoffs) My scores are way above yours.

NANJO: But, your average also rose up by 10 points, too.

HOSHITANI: Eh…? This means…?

AGEHA: It’s a draw…?

ALL: …

HOSHITANI: (laughs)

AGEHA: Yuuta?

HOSHITANI: It’s just kinda strange~ We all studied so hard and even competed but to think that all our average would rise by 10 points~

HOSHITANI: All’s well that ends well, huh~?

TENGENJI: For real now.

REN: Geez, a result like this’s not even worth the competition. Guilty.

AGEHA: But, I’m happy that mine’s the same as Yuuta’s.

ALL: (laugh)

(a group of students suddenly cheer)

HOSHITANI: Hm?

HACHIYA: It seems like they’re getting excited over there. I wonder what’s going on.

HOSHITANI: It looks like… they’re crowding over Inumine?

TENGENJI: Huh? Didn’t he have the worst scores during the exan?

HOSHITANI: But… isn’t everyone telling him ‘congratulations’?

TENGENJI: Eh?

NANJO: Ah, Sawatari.

EIGO: Oh my, everyone. How are your test scores?

NANJO: Well, never mind ours. What’s going on with Inumine?

REN: Why’s he being congratulated when he’s got the worst score? Guilty.

EIGO: Ah, tha’s—

EIGO: Actually, Inumine’s average rose by 20 points.

HOSHITANI: Eh…?

ALL: 20 points?!

TENGENJI: And he has the worst score?! What did he do during the previous midterm exam?!

EIGO: Embarrassingly, he scored 20 points on all his subjects then.

TENGENJI: HEY!

EIGO: We have been tutoring him a week before the exam started and, he has managed to finally come through.

EIGO: As someone who’s always teaching him, I feel like I’ve gained experience, too.

EIGO: (happily) Inumine might be clumsy but he’s a very diligent student.

EIGO: See you then.

(Eigo walks away)

ALL: He’s the very image of a teacher…

==END==

※ Please don’t re-post the English translations without permission.

If you like this, please consider buying me a ko-fi here to support my work. (o^▽^o)Thank you!!

#starmyu #high school star musical #drama cd #starmyu translations #my translations #hoshitani yuuta #tengenji kakeru #Hachiya Sou #ageha riku #kitahara ren #nanjo koki #y'all to find out that Ren is an M is the best thing #and that Nanjo's a total S #at least ageha's kinda treating hachiya better #sawatari eigo #forgot to tag my best boy

33 notes · View notes

dr-m-r-ma · 6 years

Text

Jealousy / Lies

Part 17/20

Genre: drama, angst, romance Rating: PG-13 Group: Monsta X

In the previous chapter: A month later, Jooheon is still wallowing in despair while Yoonjin releases her first solo single on Valentine’s Day.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fictional and my own story. It is unrelated to the actual events and real persons of Monsta X and Starship. In regards to this particular fic, I’ve created new K-Pop groups (they don’t exist) so I don’t have to study up on other people and to avoid other complications. Parts will be written in Korean with English translations. I did not major/study in English/Korean, nor was I ever strong in English/Korean grammar, so there will be grammatical mistakes. This fanfic is written in third person and past-tense for ease of writing.

When the applause and the cheers softened, Yoonjin spoke softly into her mic, “우리 팬들 너무 고마워요. 제가… 몸 상태가 안 좋아서 활동 많이 못 하는데 이렇게 와줘서 너~~~~무 고마워요.” (Translation: “Thank you to my fans. My… body isn’t in the best condition so I can’t promote that much, but thank you so~~~ much to all those who came.”) She flashed a smile to the crowd, who in turn yelled out their “괜찮아” (Translation: “it’s okay”) and other forms of support.

She continued, “제 솔로 곡을 이만큼 사랑해주신준것만도 너무 행복해요… 너무너무 고맙고 행복한데, 또 너무 아쉽고 죄송스러워요. 활동 더 하고싶고 팬 여러분들도 계속 보고싶은데… 죄송해요, 제가 너무 약해서… 팬분들한테 더 많이 많은걸 못 주고 가네요…” (Translation: “I’m so happy with just the fact that my solo song is receiving this much love… I’m so so thankful and happy, but I’m also disappointed and sorry. I want to perform more and see my fans more…. I’m sorry, it’s because I’m too weak… I wasn’t able to give so much more to my fans this time...”)

While some of the audience lacked response, Yoonjin’s fans continued to yell it’s okay to her, seeing her tired expression and abnormally white complexion. Before stepping down from the stage, she waved to the audience and bowed fully. She said, “노래 듣고 응원해줘서 고마워요! 다음에 또 만나요!” (Translation: “Thank you for listening to and supporting my song! Let’s meet again next time!”)

As soon as she stepped off the stairs, she could feel her body suddenly feel cold and the energy drain. Stumbling over her own feet, Yoonjin held onto Manager Park and signalled him for help. With her hands gripping tightly on him, she could feel her mind go blank. Her eyes blurred as they hobbled over to her van. When the door closed and she was in her own space, she couldn’t hold on any longer -- everything went dark before her.

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Jooheon scrolled through Twitter, reading people’s thoughts on Yoonjin’s new song and reactions to the news article about her health concerns. Since he knew it was a sad song, he couldn’t bear to listen to it, for fear that her words would hurt him as well. It was already hard to live through the past month, and knowing that she suddenly had health concerns that prevented her from performing broke his heart even more. Knowing fully well that she loved singing and performing, Jooheon knew the impact on Yoonjin was too great.

When he refreshed the page, he found two new posts: one from Corel’s agency and one from Yoon. Clicking on the first one, from the agency, he read the breaking news title: “[BREAKING] Yoonjin to take a break indefinitely, Yoon to promote as Corel-P’s main vocalist.” His breath hitched and his fingers trembled as he scrolled down to read the full article.

The article reiterated, saying “due to Yoonjin’s health concerns, which have been confirmed by the agency and by Yoon’s Twitter post, Yoonjin will take a break indefinitely until she heals. Until then, Yoon will promote as Corel-P’s main vocalist. The agency has stated that this does not mean Corel is disbanding, it will just be on hiatus until Yoonjin is feeling better.” Jooheon hastily pressed the link attached to the words “Yoon’s Twitter post”. His heart dropped instantly, reading Yoon’s message to the fans.

Yoon explained in both Korean and English with the following:

“We tried to stop her from working so hard, from releasing this song, from singing because it was taking a toll on her body, but she said she wanted to sing this no matter what. She said it was mostly for herself but she also wanted to touch people’s hearts through her singing as well.

The reason why we chose to only let her perform on four stages was because (as many people may know) the song is extremely difficult to sing. Yoonjin hasn’t been well since the beginning of this year and while she made efforts to take care of her body to prepare for this song, it just wouldn’t work with her not digesting, throwing up anything she ate, not sleeping enough… It took her all to make this song and record it, as she poured her emotions into this song. She collapsed numerous times in the process, was rushed to the ER and was administered IV drips more than a couple of times.

She becomes a professional on stage, with her brave face on and sings as if the world isn’t falling apart inside her. But… if this goes on… she won’t be able to sing for a long time. Please understand that we are not letting her perform more to protect her voice and to protect Yoonjin. Please send her lots of love, because being away from singing and performing may depress her. Thank you for supporting <Into Pieces> and Yoonjin.”

Jooheon’s eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his fist tightly. It was literally excruciating to read about her horrible condition, and knowing what spurred it on… broke him. He was angry, he was upset, he was sorry, he was sad, and all these emotions pitted against each other inside of him. The whirlwind of emotions caused tears to form in his eyes while his nails dug into his palm, as he clenched harder.

Exhaling slowly, he gasped for air and tried to dry his tears by looking up at the ceiling. What he couldn’t handle was the mere thought of that strong happy girl who hummed to tunes so naturally was now weakened, in pain, unable to sing… because of him. The last memory of her standing so coldly in front of him hurt him, but he knew as much as it hurt for him, she was in much more pain.

As he wiped away the tears that managed to spill over, Jooheon quickly pulled out a pen and paper and began to write a letter to his fans, all the while listening to her song for the first time.

Before uploading the letter to the fansite, he messaged the group and their manager: “미안, 나 일 저지른다. 이렇게 해서 진짜 미안. 근데 이렇게 하는게 맞는것 같아.” (Translation: “Sorry, I’m going to cause some trouble. I’m really sorry for doing it like this. But I think it’s the right way.”)

He wrote:

Hello, this is Jooheon, JOOHONEY, Lee Jooheon.

I’m uploading this without permission and I know this might stir up some trouble, but I think this is the best and most right way to do things. I want to tell my fans first that I’ve done something that hurt someone else and me, and this is my way of asking for forgiveness and showing my genuine sincere feelings.

I was too childish and I hurt someone that I came to care about with my words and my actions. When that person found out, I realized my mistake… but it was too late. It hurt me to know how painful it was for that person. I’m writing to my fans to apologize, but also I’m selfishly asking you, my fans, to understand me and support me through this process. I know I’m being vague, but without even my fans, I think I might fall apart. So please, help me.

Thank you.

From Jooheon

*** TBC ***

A/n: short chapter... i misjudged the lengths of the later chapters (lol) should have spaced out the really long chapters a bit more (lmao)

#jooheon fanfic #jooheon fic #jooheon angst #monsta x angst #monsta x scenarios #mx scenarios #mx fanfic #mx fic #mx angst #monsta x fic #monsta x fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #lies fic

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evyisaks · 6 years

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so i’ve realized that i have some of unfinished fics and i thought that i’d just post them and if people are interested in them maybe i’ll finish but i doubt it because i can’t write lol these are not proofread and the grammar is off and it’s all a mix of present and past tense..so sorry.

anyways first unfinished isak & even fic.

It’s been almost three days after Jonas and Eva’s wedding and ever since the wedding Even has been acting weird. Isak played with the idea of Even planning of proposing to him but the thought didn’t hold long because something felt off. He tried not to overthink though because he knew that both of them were busy with work and now taking care of a 14 month old. Yes, Isak hated himself a bit for becoming the kind of person who said things like ”he’s 13 months old” or ”he’s 12 months and 2 weeks old”, but here he was.

Either way, Even has been acting weird and more so today after dinner. Isak was busy bottle feeding Oliver while Even was still lost in his own little world.

”Hey babe, are you okay?”

When Even didn’t reply, Isak decided to wait for a few more minutes. Luckily he didn’t have to ask again because he got his reply even if it took him some minutes

”Huh? Yeah sorry. I was just thinking about something.”

”I’ve noticed. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Anything you want to share?”

”Willyoubemyboyfriend”

”Come again? Are you speaking in English right now?”

”Nothing…just forget it.”

”Forget what? Even what’s going on.”

”Nothing…just…nothing”

”Okay now I’m even more curious and you’re kinda freaking me out. Tell me”

”Oh wow. The baby is crying. I have to check on him”

As Even walked, or more like ran, to get Oliver, Isak just stood there all confused while Oliver was wrapping his tiny hand around his finger. ”Your dad has been acting really weird lately.”

second unfinished evak fic

It was the second time that the flight attendant had told off the passenger next to him to turn off his phone and either turn it off completely or go on flight mode. The stranger next to him apologized and ended his phone call. This made the flight attend walk away to the next passenger who wasn’t following the strict rules.

Isak tried his best to focus on falling asleep and hoped to sleep trough the whole trip, only to wake up for toilet breaks and getting more to drink. However the stranger next to him was making it very difficult to try to fall asleep. Isak was almost certain that he could hear the strangers heart beating out of his chest and he kept tossing and turning and breathing way too loud.

It didn’t surprise Isak because what he gathered from the phone call was that his companion had a fear of flying and that it was his first time flying alone. When the tossing and turning didn’t stop, Isak decided to throw a comment directed at the person next to him. However once he turned around to face him, he got to actually see the person who was panicking next to him and damn he was beautiful.

Damn those blue eyes and blond hair.

notes for this one:

Isak and Even meet in an airplane Even is scared of flying, or he gets anxious. It’s his first time flying alone. Isak had a hell of a week and all he wants to do is sleep and drink through the flight from US to London and then London to Norway. But Isak sees and hears Even freaking out and upon seeing Even he decides to introduce himself and help him out. He does need the company. Jokes about posters on the airport and being Evens career, and Evens mom paying him. Even being sleepy and Isak letting him rest his head on his shoulder. Even getting a panic attack Isak trying to help him through it. Isak deciding to tell the story of how he found himself in US. Isak getting sad and starting to cry while telling his story. Even Telling Isak that it’s okay that he’s gonna take care of him and make him laugh all through the trip.Jokes about how Even saw a poster on the airport......about how Isak needs someone to listen to him, take care of him, buy him drinks and food, and hold his hand.

I’ve this idea since july last year.

third unfinished evak fic:

”You’re so full of crap Even. You…we had so many adventures left and don’t you dare make it seem like life with me was boring —”

”I’m not. That’s not what I was saying —”

”Yes it is! Like our relationship was making you settle into not having adventures or experience new things. But fuck you! We had so many adventures left! Like …. Like did you know that I had this whole thing planned out on how I was going to propose to you? It would happen on my 21st birthday at 21:21. So it would June 21st at 21:21, and my 21st birthday. Because you’re into that symbolic piece of crap. But I guess that won’t happen now because that time has passed. And we wouldn’t have to get married right away but still — just the thought of it would be cool. And then another adventure; Us moving out to a bigger place. Maybe getting a dog? And me graduating university and becoming a doctor! And you making more movies and becoming this amazing director. That’s adventures! Or maybe we’d travel the world after I graduated…or just travel around Europe. And then after some years we’d get married and I don’t know…maybe even adopt a kid or something. That’s all fucking adventures! So don’t come around here and say stuff like that. That we didn’t have any new things left to experience. You found someone else that you liked and that’s not the fault of our relationship, because our relationship was everything but boring. We had a future together and that should of have been a bigger adventure than anything else.”

”It should have been enough Even! Why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

notes for this one:

the reason for their break up was well...Even finding someone new but also because Even felt like him and Isak were stuck on this routine, and their days were all planned out...and it felt like they had no adventures left or any "firsts" left. And their whole relationship felt like this huge schedule and "we even started planning on when to have sex". And I mean of course Even realizes later on that it's not a bad thing at all and that he misses all of it, and that he'll always love Isak. But yeah, he finally tells Isak this and Isak goes:"We had a future together and that should of have been a bigger adventure than anything else.”

#skam #evak #mine #isak and even

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idratherstayslytherin · 6 years

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Feelings We Can’t Let Go ( A Drarry Fic) CHAPTER FIVE

Summary: Harry needs to pass his NEWTs with a decent grade in Potions. The Ministry sends Harry to France so he can study for his exam with none other than Draco Malfoy, who has been blocked from Wizarding Society for almost a year now. It was supposed to be just a few months of tutoring, but it was so much more than that.

Read Chapter One HERE

Read Chapter Two HERE

Read Chapter Three HERE

Read Chapter Four HERE

Quick note: Posting re-edited chapter here and on ao3 again, because I want to improve my English and terrible writing. I hope you enjoy it!

This chapter was written mostly by my co-writer who isn’t helping me anymore, but still deserves the credit for huge part of it. You can find her AO3 HERE . I added a bit of the text and re-written some parts that didn’t feel right or were ooc in my opinion, I also corrected grammar.

Do let me know what you think of it!

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Harry couldn’t stop but wonder how strange and complex the whole concept of time was. how it seemed to pass at different speed, depending on what was happening. He also couldn’t stop but wonder why autumn always got him nostalgic, and how that one specific season brought so many of his hidden emotions to the surface, so many things he was trying to hide, and now he was overwhelmed with them, melancholy, anger, love, fear, anxiety, guilt and loneliness. This was exactly why he wasn’t even shocked when he bumped into Draco, leaving his comfortable armchair in the back of Flourish and Blotts where he had been sitting for the large part of the day, before deciding on purchasing the copy of muggle poetry he found himself enjoying. He made his way towards the counter to pay for it. “Potter! What the fuck?” The blonde boy exclaimed, dropping two of the books he was holding. “Draco...” He automatically bent down and picked the fallen items from the floor, and gave them back to the boy, eyeing him. “You look terrible.” he said. Draco had huge purple marks under his eyes, and seemed pale and thin, way to thin. His jawline was more defined, his cheeks shrunken and his hands looked almost like just skin and bones. Harry’s heart ached from seeing him like this, even though he couldn’t quite explain why. The two of them hadn’t seen each other in ages, almost two months. It felt like forever, like the time they went to London together was just some old, faded memory, and they were nothing more than two strangers. Harry knew this was mostly his fault, he was the one who cut Draco off, never told him he was going on holiday, never sent that postcard and letter from Spain, and never contacted him after he got home, which was two weeks ago. Harry hardly even noticed those two weeks passing, as he thought back, he could hardly recall what he did. Obviously he spent time with Ginny. He accompanied Hermione to the library one day. He took up going for strolls in the November wind and even rain, taking in the sight of the masses huddled together under thick coats and robes, faces dull and tired, the light coming from the shop windows promising comfort and warmth, and the last golden leafs falling from the trees a sign of the end of something. He actually enjoyed all of this, it made him feel alive. He might have also felt unusually emotional and melancholy, but he felt alive, walking down Diagon Alley every day, the heat of his warming charms keeping him comfortable, and his thoughts keeping on his toes, which was something he desperately needed. He had been feeling restless, and soon found that the bookshop was one of the best places for relaxing, one of the best places for letting go of all of the things he felt, and stepping out of the routine of the usual day for a bit at least. It wasn’t that he minded the way his life was going, he liked waking up beside Ginny, making tea and breakfast with Hermione, preparing for finally becoming a Cursebreaker from January. It was more the fact that the days seemed to slip by without anything significant happening, and he missed that. These were those moments when he wondered about time. About how days could just pass and pass without even noticing, and then suddenly something happening, that made you snap out of the daze. And it had been this something, this significant happening he had been searching for every time he walked down the streets, but it didn’t seem to come until this very day. Because running into Draco was definitely significant, though Harry wasn’t sure whether it was significant in a good way or a bad way. He definitely missed his company, and thought it would be nice to catch up and go back to meeting every so often, and he was definitely glad because at least this was something different, as it didn’t happen every day, but it was also confusing, those very emotions that were now on the surface felt like they had been amplified, mixing with his memories of the past year, the two of them together in France, talking and making potions and going for walks in the fresh autumn weather. And now here they were again, together in the fresh autumn weather, and Harry was lost for words, not knowing whether it would be better to just apologize to Draco, or pretend that nothing had happened, and invite him around to his place or something. Harry also wanted to find out why did Draco looked like he did. He did not want the boy to the the wreck of a human, he missed seeing Draco smile and laugh. He missed the support and understanding they gave each other. Harry felt a bit torn between past and present. He wasn't sure what exactly he was feeling.

Draco looked angry, and even though Harry wasn’t the best at reading other people’s emotions, he was pretty sure it wasn’t just because he knocked his books out of his hands. “Thank you” Draco snarled. “Coming from you I could just take that as a compliment, you really do look dashing on this beautiful Wednesday afternoon.” Harry just rolled his eyes. He knew he didn’t look great, possibly incredibly sleepy and he knew his hair was a mess, but he stopped bothering about it. He had to admit that the jumper he was wearing was slightly peculiar, but that was only because it was a hand-knitted gift from Luna, who was probably the only person who thought lime green, purple, bright yellow, orange, pink and dark blue stripes looked good together. “That’s not what I meant.” Harry said after a pause. Draco just shook his head. Harry sighed, and they just stayed like that, awkwardly standing in front of each other, their glance meeting every so often, before one of them looked away. Draco was clinging onto his books like his life depended on them, picking invisible pieces of fluff or dirt from his robes with his other hand, nibbling on his lower lip and Harry was finding it difficult to look away. The little repeating movement simultaneously mesmerizing him and making him want to yell at Draco to stop it because it was distracting and irritating. But he didn’t, he just kept quiet and watched the perfect white teeth sink into the pink flesh, looking away whenever he felt Draco might notice him looking, before turning his attention back to the boy’s lips, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, wanting to say something, but not knowing where to start. “Are you quite done staring, Potter? If I look as terrible as you claim, maybe you should find someone else to look at, maybe your fiancée, as she seems to be good enough for you.” Draco snapped. “What?” Harry felt his jaw drop. “What’s this or anything got to do with Ginny?” “Oh I don’t know, but you sure enough don’t seem to understand.” “What the hell was that supposed to mean?” Harry asked with a confused look. He wasn’t kidding, he had no idea what Draco was talking about. “Be patient, maybe you’ll figure it out when you will be living in your perfect countryside home with your perfect ginger wife and five perfect ginger kids running around you.” “Five kids? Ah... Do I really look like the type who would want five kids to you?” “I don’t really know what type you look like to me anymore. Definitely not the type who one trusts not to disappear suddenly.” Draco pressed his lips together, rolled them to the inside of his mouth and closed his eyes as if regretting saying this He wished he could have bit back that last part, it was really a little too much than what he had wanted to say. Harry hated himself for realizing how much he actually missed the blonde. “I-” Harry started, but then closed his mouth. Then he opened it again, wanting to continue, he couldn't. Draco snorted. “It’s alright, Potter, you don’t need to make excuses.” the blonde boy sneered. “Now if you'll excuse me-” he pushed past Harry and shoving the books he bought in a bag he took from his pocket, made his way out of the shop in a hurry. Harry stood there agape for a moment, looking down at the poetry book he wanted to buy, but without further thinking he placed it on top of the closest shelf and dashed to the door, immediately finding himself in the usual afternoon crowd, shoving past the slow walkers, in hope of catching a glimpse of the platinum blond hair or the black clad figure of Draco. He wasn't going to let this end like this. He felt guilty about being a bit selfish, he needed Draco back in his life, but he knew he hurt the boy and shouldn't be asking him to take Harry back. It seemed like it was his lucky day, because soon he did, spotting him right as the boy slowed his pace, seemingly not too keen on ending their encounter either, assuming Harry would have caught up with him by now if he had bothered to follow. Harry did bother, and soon he stood next to Draco, after picking up his pace and pushing a few other people out of his way. “Wait, Draco!” he called. The blonde boy came to a halt, and turned around to face Harry, and stood looking at him, merely rising his eyebrow. “Look, I’m sorry. I really am. I know I fucked up and that I was an asshole, but if you don’t hate me too much.... would you want to grab some coffee with me sometime?” “At least you're correct about one thing, I do hate you.” Draco said, but his lips twitched up, and Harry could tell that Draco wouldn’t decline the offer. “Sure.” Harry smirked. Draco just shook his head, but he couldn’t keep a sheepish smile off his face. “Are you free today? I need to get a bit of shopping done, but you could come around and we could make lunch together, the others won’t be home until the evening.” “Eager much?” Draco grinned, his eyes lit up with what Harry assumed was joy. It was almost like the boy was admitting that he missed Harry too. It was only a teasing grin, but Harry couldn’t suppress the feeling of joy flooding him. He wasn’t too keen on admitting it, but he had missed the bastard. “Fine, if you are busy, next week is good for me.” Harry scoffed. Draco let out a short laugh, and grabbed Harry’s arm, dragging him back in the direction they came from. “Hey! Draco! What the hell?” Draco didn’t say a word until they arrived at Flourish and Blotts and he had picked up the copy of poetry Harry had chosen, but left there; he placed it on the counter while digging into his pockets for some cash. “You can't be seriously doing it. I can’t accept this, I’m paying for it.” “Potter, don’t be stupid, you’ve bought me stuff before, this is only a book.” Draco scoffed. “It isn’t ONLY a book. It’s a great book, you should read it.” “Merlin, Potter, why do you have to always be so difficult? You know very well what I meant.” the blonde boy sighed, and passed a few coins to the witch behind the counter who was watching the two of them bickering with great interest. “But…-” Harry started again, but Draco shushed him, shoving the book into his hand. “No buts. There you go. Read it, enjoy it. And if you are so keen on me reading it, lend it to me, it actually does look like a good piece of literature. I’m surprised you would choose something like it. Granger’s influence?” He asked with a pretend polite smile. “Sod off, Malfoy” Harry muttered, looking at the book in his hands, smoothing his right over the cover. “Back to Malfoy and Potter, are we?” “You started it.” Harry retorted. “Well you were the one who disappeared, are you seriously telling me you expected a warm welcome?” Draco said in a doubtful voice, raising his eyebrow, and running a hand through his locks, that now were even longer, they reached behind his shoulders. “I told you I was sorry, okay? I wanted to write a letter but I never sent it, and when we got back I kind of forgot, and then I thought you would hate me if I just showed up out of nowhere.” He felt embarrassed saying this, but he couldn’t help the words tumbling out of his mouth. “Now I'm definitely sure I hate you.” Draco assured him with a grin, giving him a light push towards the door. “And I will hate you even more if we don’t get moving, because if you haven’t noticed, we stopped in the middle of the bookshop and people are looking.” “I don’t care.” Harry shrugged, but lead the way out of the shop. “How can you not care?” Draco searched for Harry's eyes. Harry knew the boy was paranoid about being around other wizard and witches, he remembered Draco's stories about people treating him like some of the strict pureblood families used to treat their house elves. “Gotten used to it I guess. I mean, I have to admit, it can be really irritating, but I don’t give a damn about what they say in the papers or what people whisper behind my back. I know who I am and what I want and I don’t care about other people’s opinions. Hell I care if they see me with you, I want to be here with you, and if people can't understand that, it's their problem, not mine." Harry shocked himself with his words, he wasn't planning on the confession sounding somewhat sappy. “Don’t you now?” Draco had an amused smile on his face. “What happened to you in this past month or so that made you so mature?” “Me? Mature? That’s something I never thought you’d say about me.” Harry shook his head laughing. “There are a lot of things you would have never thought I’d say about you.” Draco muttered. “What?” Harry turned to him with a puzzled look on his face, halting. “Nothing.” The blonde boy quickly said, before glancing around. They were standing right in front of the market, which was one of those places Draco appreciated, but could never spend more than half an hour in. It was noisy and colorful and packed with old witches, most of whom were slow walkers which irritated him to no extent. “You said you needed to do some shopping.” He said nodding towards the arcade. “Oh. Yes. I forgot.” Harry said, and started walking towards the stalls with Draco following him after a dramatic eyeroll. Soon (not soon enough for Draco who was already fed up with the whole day and cursed himself for agreeing on going to Harry’s place for the day instead of settling for another date when he could actually prepare for what awaited him) they were stocked up with fruit and vegetables and fish and mushrooms and an expensive bottle of wine Draco chose and Harry insisted on paying for, heading in the direction of Grimmauld Place 12. “Have you actually ever been inside?” Harry asked, as they stood in front of the house that emerged from between number 11 and 13. “Why would have I?” Draco gave him an odd look. “I don’t know, I mean it is the Black ancestral home, I just assumed…” Harry trailed off. Then he remembered one time Draco came here, it was when they haven't seen each other for while and they both missed each other dearly, but also were furious with one another. He gasped remembering the memory of their night in Draco's flat. “You are on the family tree though, you know.” He tried to brush the whole conversation off. Draco stayed silent for a while, and Harry was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable, he wasn’t even sure why. He had basically started to feel at home at the other boy’s flat, why was it so different for them to spend time at Harry’s place? Well of course sharing the house with other people was one of the factors, but as neither of them were home, Ron and Hermione at the Ministry and Ginny at practice, it didn’t really matter. He showed Draco around the house, barely saying anything about any of the rooms, and ushering him towards the main living room, hoping that it would feel less weird once they were sitting down and comfortable, maybe even opening the wine they bought or having some butterbeer or something. But even when they were in the living room, Harry cross legged in one end of the sofa, Draco stiffly sitting in the other end, it was awkward. The whole situation, and Harry had no idea why. Sure, he hadn’t seen the other boy for a while, and sure, it’s always a little awkward when you visit someone for the first time, but it wasn’t just that. “Care to tell me about your holiday or at least something, Potter? Because if you continue to sit staring at the fireplace any longer I’ll just go home, you don’t need company for that.” This broke Harry’s trail of thoughts, and he looked up with shock, not understanding what had just happened. Draco had been like before, they laughed, they teased each other, but now that they got back to Harry’s place he was acting as distant as ever, which was making Harry burn on the inside. Draco always managed to do that, even with one look, one word, one touch. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” “With me?!” Draco echoed with a sarcastic laugh. “Nothing’s wrong with me, thank you very much, I think you are the one who should sit down and think what’s wrong with them and sort out their priorities.” “My priorities?! What the hell are you on about, Malfoy?” He saw the blonde boy wince at his surname again, and Harry almost regretted using it, but then he looked into his cold grey eyes and his emotionless face, and he decided he deserved it. “Oh sorry, I forgot you were the Golden boy and you were perfect and the whole fucking world revolves around you, I’m sorry I dared to point out that you are an enormous arse, Potter. And it was a mistake to ever think you weren’t.” “What’s wrong with you?” Harry was shouting now, desperate and furious. “Nothing” Draco snapped. “I’ll just be on my way, enjoy yourself with your poetry and your quality wine just so you don’t feel lonely before the Weasley-girl comes home” he spat, and without waiting any longer, he disapparated, leaving Harry standing up next to the couch, staring into the empty space in front of him, gaping. What the hell was this all about? Harry felt anger pumping through his veins, but he also couldn’t help but feel sad and guilty. He thought he just got Draco back, but it seemed like it wasn’t going to be as easy as he hoped. Yes, the boy was making his lose his calm, but Harry wasn't going to give up on the git. Naturally, after calming down (and reluctantly, but heading Draco’s advice drank half of the wine, straight out of the bottle) the first thing he did was to try and Floo to the boy’s flat, but he seemed to have put wards up, and Harry simply couldn’t get through. So he tried apparating into his flat, but that didn’t work either, Harry couldn’t help but wonder how the heck Draco knew all of these protective spells, and why he felt it necessary to use them to block out him. The last thing he tried before giving up for the day was apparating to his doorstep, and ringing the doorbell for what seemed like forever, but he got no reply, so he apparated back home, only to find Ginny had already arrived. “Hey, Gin” he greeted her with a smile, and pulled her in for a hug. “Where were you? I thought you’d be home because I saw all your stuff, but..?” “I um-” For some reason Harry didn’t feel like explaining all about Draco. Especially as he didn’t quite understand what was going on, which would definitely make explaining a little harder. “I was out shopping earlier and I just dumped the stuff but then I needed to get some fresh air so I popped out. It seems like I timed it just right” he said, smiling at his fiancé. It was a little forced and fake, but Ginny didn’t seem to notice, she just kissed him on the cheek before carrying on putting the stuff away in the kitchen, and chattering about her day. Harry tried to listen, he really did, but he couldn’t stop thinking about why Draco had acted so weird and how he could talk to him. Get him back. He spent most of the weekend trying to figure out how to contact Draco, as he tried to Floo and apparate to his flat both days, and he even sent a letter to him (which was actually a piece of cardboard from an old cornflakes box he found and scribbled a few words about how he didn’t understand what the fuck all of this was and that he was sorry and that they should talk), but as he expected, he got no reply, so after waiting another couple of days he decided he’d visit the boy at St. Mungo’s. Of course he had to ask a nurse to tell Draco he was there and he wanted to talk, because they wouldn’t let him in any further than the visitation area, and of course he wasn’t even surprised when the nurse told him that he was busy and had a tight schedule all day, so he just gritted his teeth and went home.

When Draco was told by one of the nurses for Merlin-knows which time, that Harry Potter was waiting for him, asking about him; again, he felt his blood boiling. Then again, what was he supposed to say? He had been avoiding Harry since their ‘incident’ as he referred to that certain Friday afternoon when he thought of it, and he had really hoped the boy would give up after realising that he wasn’t going to answer or let him into his flat, but he didn’t need much time to figure out that Harry’s irritating tenacity was as strong as ever, and he wouldn’t leave him be. But he expected him to at least show up after work or something, not just come barging into the hospital sending someone to fetch Draco for him like he fucking owned the place and the nurses weren’t more than servants and message bearers. This wasn’t actually the thing that made Draco so angry about the whole situation, it was more the fact that he dropped the vial of expensive medication he had in his hand when the nurse told him Harry Potter was waiting for him; spilling it over his robes and the floor, leaving green marks that didn’t seem to completely fade even after a thorough Scourgify. And maybe also the fact that now that they met again, he couldn’t help but think about the boy, almost day and night, angry both with himself and Harry, but mostly himself for letting the boy get to him like this. From then on, every single day for a week there would be a nurse coming to find him, saying that Harry was waiting for him, and he would always tell her the same thing: he was busy. In fact he was, he had been making progress with Appoline, and working with a new patient who was assigned to him, an old wizard suffering from the long-lasting effects of a strange old curse, but this wasn’t the only reason he didn’t ever go down to see Harry. Actually this wasn’t the reason at all, if he had wanted to see the boy, he could have went down during his lunch break or anytime between his patrols, but the truth was that he didn’t want to. At all. Well that wasn’t true either, because part of him wanted nothing more than to be with Harry, but he was still angry with him, and broken by trusting someone and starting to depend on them and letting them hurt him by leaving. This was something new for him, Draco had always thought he was good at keeping his distance from people, not getting attached to anyone for his own good. And then all of a sudden the visits stopped. There was no nurse looking for him, and when he walked down to the visitation area there was no Harry waiting for him, and this made him feel even worse if that was possible. The boy had given up on him, just because he had been sulking, and now he didn’t even bother to look for him. Great! He removed the wards from his flat, but Harry didn’t come. He spent his lunch hours in the visitation area, but there was no sign of the boy. He went to Flourish and Blotts every afternoon after work, sitting in the armchair opposite to Harry’s favourite one for hours, waiting for him to show up, but he was nowhere to be seen, and not just in the bookstore, but in any of the other shops, or in the streets, and not even in the newspapers, there hadn’t been any big announcement about the Boy Who Lived for ages now, and though Draco normally hated those articles, most of them going on about what a beautiful couple Harry and Ginny would be, and guessing when their wedding will be or when will they have children and how many, but now he wished he would come across even the dumbest article that was ever written if that meant he found out what was going on with the boy. After a week he just gave up, no longer searching for him, no longer scanning the crowd on his way to work and back home for the familiar mop of messy dark hair, as he knew he wouldn’t see it. Or at least that’s what he thought, up until the first of December came, and there was an owl waiting for him at St. Mungos, squawking impatiently, a rather big parcel tied to it’s foot. He eased the bird of it’s burden, giving the rectangular package wrapped in simple brown wrapping paper a quizzical look before opening it. Inside lay a letter, messy and rushed, parts of it scribbled over, and the whole piece of parchment covered in blotches of ink, making some parts impossible to read. Underneath was a book, a collection of muggle poetry, a yellow note hanging out on the side, marking a poem. Wilfred Owen - Exposure Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knive us . . . Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent . . . Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient . . . Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous, But nothing happens.

Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire, Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles. Northward, incessantly, the flickering gunnery rumbles, Far off, like a dull rumour of some other war. What are we doing here?

The poignant misery of dawn begins to grow . . . We only know war lasts, rain soaks, and clouds sag stormy. Dawn massing in the east her melancholy army Attacks once more in ranks on shivering ranks of grey, But nothing happens.

Sudden successive flights of bullets streak the silence. Less deadly than the air that shudders black with snow, With sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause, and renew, We watch them wandering up and down the wind's nonchalance, But nothing happens.

Pale flakes with fingering stealth come feeling for our faces— We cringe in holes, back on forgotten dreams, and stare, snow-dazed, Deep into grassier ditches. So we drowse, sun-dozed, Littered with blossoms trickling where the blackbird fusses. —Is it that we are dying?

Slowly our ghosts drag home: glimpsing the sunk fires, glozed With crusted dark-red jewels; crickets jingle there; For hours the innocent mice rejoice: the house is theirs; Shutters and doors, all closed: on us the doors are closed,— We turn back to our dying.

Since we believe not otherwise can kind fires burn; Now ever suns smile true on child, or field, or fruit. For God's invincible spring our love is made afraid; Therefore, not loath, we lie out here; therefore were born, For love of God seems dying.

Tonight, this frost will fasten on this mud and us, Shrivelling many hands, and puckering foreheads crisp. The burying-party, picks and shovels in shaking grasp, Pause over half-known faces. All their eyes are ice, But nothing happens. The yellow note said “I have no idea why I wanted to show you this poem, but I do, because I like it, and I hope you like it too. I said I would lend the book to you, and now you have it, you can even keep it if you don’t mind my notes next to the ones I liked, and even if you do mind them, please don’t give me a lecture about writing in books, I already had to listen to it once from Hermione. ~ Harry” And this was how and why Draco found himself curled up on his sofa, reading muggle poetry all afternoon, tutting or sniggering at Harry’s little notes, but enjoying the poems, the way such simple words combined could result something so powerful, something he could never do. He might have always appreciated literature, he wasn’t good with words, with expressing himself. He knew Harry wasn’t either, so he hoped the boy didn’t mind that he sent the book back after having marked his own favourite poems, accompanied by a note saying that he agreed that they should meet.

Days passed, and soon it was Saturday afternoon, the very day they had agreed to meet up, and Harry should have felt nervous, he had for some time now, but he didn’t. Maybe it was the first snow of the winter, the tiny white flakes falling onto his thick robes and in his hair, melting in seconds, their perfect structure dissolving to nothing. Maybe it was the excited crowd in Diagon Alley, the witches and wizards excited about Christmas shopping. But most of all it was the fact that when he entered the café where they decided to meet, Draco was already there, his face slightly nervous, but his lips curled into an amused smile as he sat flipping through the menu, glancing at the door every so often, no traces of his previous coldness and anger, and Harry was sure everything was going to be alright. He closed the door of the cosy coffee shop, making the overhead wind chimes tinkle, causing the blonde boy to look up at him. Harry shot him a slightly nervous grin, and slid into the seat opposite the other boy, ridding himself of his robes. They sat in silence, apart from Draco ordering them a cappuccino from the waiter who had been hovering around the table for a while until they received the two cups of freshly made coffee. Harry took a sip of his, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and leant back, forcing himself to look up from the tablecloth which he had been examining for the past minutes. “Listen, Draco...” he started. He cleared his throat. “I know I’m terrible with words and I don’t really know how else to put this, but I’m sorry.” He stopped for a second, and sighed. “I know I messed up, real bad, and I don’t even have a proper excuse for avoiding you, it just happened. But I have regretted it, and I am sorry, and I never actually meant to do this to you, you don’t deserve it, I really enjoyed spending time with you and I have missed it. And I know it’s kind of an immature way to handle this but it worked before, and anyway now we are equal as you disappeared for quite a while after I came back from France, so truce?” Draco had been watching Harry with his usual emotionless face, except for the tiny smile playing at his lips, a mere twitch, something a stranger wouldn’t even notice when looking at his expression. But Harry wasn’t a stranger, and he wasn’t stupid either, even though he sometimes acted like he was. Judging by the other boy’s confidence, he had been sure that Draco was open to calling truce even before he had walked into the café. And he hadn’t been wrong. “How long have you been rehearsing this speech?” Draco asked with a smirk. “I didn’t. I improvised.” Harry huffed. “Sure you did.” “I’m telling you I did.” “And I know you are lying.” “I’m not.” “Yes you are.” “No I’m not. I may have given it a bit of thought, just so I gathered what I wanted to say, but I definitely didn’t rehearse it. Can you really imagine me spending so much time of my day on anything to do with you?” Harry snorted. Draco let out a short laugh. “I can, and I know it is true.” Harry just huffed again, but Draco knew he wasn’t even really annoyed. “Fine, truce?” He asked giving up. “Truce.” Harry grinned, extending his hand over the table. Draco took it and shook it. Holding onto the other boy’s hand which was still cold from the weather outside a little longer than necessary, he notice how natural it felt, how well their hands fit together. It felt like coming home. After this thought Harry shook his head to himself, and let go of Draco’s hand, dropping his own onto the table, going for his cup of coffee which had cooled down a bit by then, and downing more than half of it with one gulp. And suddenly everything was alright. They carried on pretty much from where they left off, Draco told Harry about his work, Harry told him how impatiently he was waiting for the new year to start so that he could start working as a Cursebreaker, and how he enjoyed Spain and thought Draco would like it apart from the crowds. Draco invited him around to his place after their third cup of coffee and they made dinner together the way they used to, it felt right. No, in fact it was more than right, it was great, and Harry felt relaxed and giddy with happiness (and maybe firewhiskey) and Draco was talkative and smiling and the usual stiffness that his posture had when they were in public was completely gone, he was more than happy to sit sprawled across his sofa with Harry after finishing their meal. Harry also kept giving Draco a look the boy couldn’t quite recognize, he was almost sure Harry never looked at him like this. Was it joy? Maybe it was interest in what Draco was talking about? Whatever it was it made Draco’s heart skip a beat faster and he couldn’t help, but feel a bit sad as he knew Harry would never feel anything more than sympathy towards him. Sure, there were a few short silences, but they weren’t the uncomfortable ones, and sure, there a few unsaid things, but Draco thought that was for the better, and sure, it took some time for Harry to snap back into reality when he realized that the other boy’s hand was right behind his head on the back of the sofa, grazing his neck every time he shifted in his seat, sending electric tingles down his spine; and sure, Draco stood up abruptly saying that he needed a refill when Harry told him Ginny and he were getting married in the second week of December and he wanted Draco to come, but it was indeed more than alright. It was the usual feeling of them being together, the usual teasing, the usual warm smiles, the usual insults that didn’t carry any weight and were more jokes than anything else, and the usual glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. But this didn't mean that when Harry started talking about his and Ginny’s wedding, Draco didn't immediately feel sick, sprinting to the kitchen where he rested his hands on the edge of the sink and tried to slow down his breathing as his eyes began to water. Harry was making him feel things that he didn’t want to feel towards the boy who was getting married. The boy who was straight (well at least Harry must have thought he was) and Draco had no chance getting together with. The thought of Harry wanting for Draco to come to the wedding was making him want to throw his glass of wine on to the wall and scream, but he had to refrain himself, he couldn't lose his cool. He had to come to the wedding, and he wanted to. For Harry. Spending time with each other seemed natural as soon as they got back to the place they were earlier on, and they found themselves meeting even more regularly, every second or third day, whether it was just staying at Draco’s place, talking and cooking, or going for a walk through Diagon Alley, popping into some shops just to look around, going to the market together, Draco putting up with the crowd, which didn’t seem as difficult as it used to, now that Harry was by his side, or anything else they thought of doing. Except for visiting Grimmauld Place 12 again. Harry couldn’t quite explain why, he couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the thought of being there with Draco. It felt wrong for some reason, but Draco didn’t seem to mind, so he tried not to think too much of it. He sure was happy enough being at the other boy’s flat, only going back to his place late at night. Harry knew this couldn’t go on like this forever, he would soon be busy with planning his and Ginny’s wedding, and they would be spending more time together, as his fiancé would start training in the mornings instead of the afternoons and evenings, realising she was never home before ten, Harry not even mentioning that he wasn’t either. Draco had become his little secret, something only the two of them knew about, and of course anyone else who saw them around. Because people did notice the odd pair of them, mostly just staring at them in shock, sometimes asking Harry if he was alright, or Draco was making him do something he didn’t want (these questions seemed to fluster Harry more, he never understood how Draco could just give a short, dismissing and sarcastic answer before clutching Harry’s arm and pulling him away; Harry always felt like he was seconds away from hexing the questioner’s balls off for assuming all kinds of things about Draco). Once someone even asked them whether they were going out, the latter question flustering the two boys equally for some reason. It was just one of their usual rounds at the market, shopping for dinner, and a young witch found them in an especially domestic moment, Draco holding an eggplant in his hand and making a funny comment about it which caused Harry to double over with laughter, clutching the blonde boy’s arm, who was laughing himself, and simultaneously trying to snatch their shopping list from Harry’s hand. The question took them by surprise, Harry sobering up quickly, letting go of Draco’s hand, and choking on his own aspirations. He stopped laughing, and Draco turning bright red, busying himself with looking at the piece of parchment he finally seized from Harry’s hand, leaving Harry to answer the question. Gryffindor mumbled something about “not knowing where the witch got the idea”, but it couldn’t have been too convincing, because the ebony-haired woman shot them a knowing glance before leaving them in a confident stride, only looking back to wink at them. Neither of them ever mentioned this again, Harry angry with himself for being so affected by the situation, Draco knowing that it would only raise questions he would rather not answer. But all was well, and that was what mattered, even if it meant people thought they were going out, and that Harry had to lie about where he was going when he sneaked off to buy Draco a Christmas present, as he still didn’t want to tell Ginny about being friends with him again, even though he wasn’t quite sure why.

#drarry #drarry fic #my writing #my fic #feelings we can't let go #draco malfoy #harry potter #fic #draco malfoy x harry potter

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