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spacebarnes · 3 years

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still love you ✧ t.holland.

summary: he still love her, and that's all he really know.

warnings: crying(?, cheating mentions, bad memories, i think that's all; let me know if there's another one!

a/n: sheesh, this took me days but i'm so happy with the result, make sure you read part one first! requests are open. as always, english it's not my first language so sorry about any mistakes. take care of yourself pls. (not my gif) <3

°•°•°•

"Don't forget to put the pink dress and the white boots. be ready in fifteen, please." Bella, your assistant said and closed the door to your dressing room so that you could change before the show.

It had been about a month since that fight where you and Tom broke up. As soon as your friends arrived, you packed your things and went to your old apartment. You hadn't heard from Tom in all this time, only when you happened to ask Sam or Harry when all of you hang out.

You got dressed as fast as you could and being careful not to mess up your hair. Five minutes before you left, your phone screen lit up, displaying a message from Maggie.

You opened the message as quickly as possible and as soon as you read the title of the note that your friend had sent you, you moved your finger without reading the text and go directly to the photos. It was true, the photos showed Tom outside a restaurant with a blue hair girl, and it seemed that they were together, very close.

Leaving Tom in the past was something that cost you a lot and it certainly still did, because you couldn't erase your feelings so easily overnight. You felt your eyes start to get wet, but you raised your head trying not to let the tears fall, at least not three minutes before going on stage.

Three knocks on the door alarmed you and you quickly regained your posture. "You're ready?" Bella asked and you got up to open the door and see her holding a small board in her hands. "Good, Jimmy it's already in the studio, let's go."

This interview was the first you would give after your most recent breakup, and for a fact you knew that the questions related to your ex were not going to be lacking. "Please, give it up for Y/N Y/L!" Jimmy announced and screams filled the study as you approached the couch. "How are you?" he asked kindly once you were sitting on the couch.

"Very good and you?" you returned the question with kindness.

"Great now that you're here," he gave you a smile and clasped his hands to begin the interview. "But enough about me, you recently finished your tour, how does it feel to finally rest?"

"Well, it's really awesome to finally sleep in a bed and not in a bus tour," laughter from the audience rang out at your comment, making you smile. "But, I have to say I kinda miss traveling the world and seeing so many of my fans."

"So have you spend time with your loved ones?" he asked and with that phrase, you already knew where all this was going.

"Yeah, i have. yesterday i went out with Harrison and Sam, you know, just to catch up some things." you smiled sideways and looked for those mentioned in the audience, they just made a funny face towards you.

"and what about Tom?" the question made you come out of your bubble and go back to the interview. "because we haven't seen you two together on your instagram stories or something like that, even, some fans are saying that he didn't show up to your last concert." this last information took you back to the night where it all ended, making your heart clench a bit. you swallowed before answering.

"Yeah, well, um," you started to play with your fingers, feeling the nervousness rush through your blood. "We don't talk anymore."

"Are you saying that you two break up?"

"Yeah, we did." you responded in the driest way possible to prevent the feeling from winning you over. "About a month ago, i think." the screen behind you light up, and your first instinct was to turn to see what it was about, but you regretted it the moment you saw what was projected.

"So you aren't this girl?" Jimmy asked while pointing with a control to the girl who was with Tom in the photos of the article, before answering, you turned to see Harrison and Sam in the audience, who only raised their shoulders to show that they had nothing to do with that.

"No, i'm not," you denied and resumed your initial position. "I mean, our haircolor it's different and she's holding a beer wich i usually don't drink, so." you raised your hands and folded your arms at the height of your shoulders. the interview continued until the cameramen announced that they were going to a commercial break. Harrison and Sam approached you as quickly as possible as did Bella.

"We didn't know that they would show the photos." Harrison quickly said and put his hands on the sides of your arms.

"It's fine," you smirked and then put your gaze on Bella's face, who was behind Harrison. "You know what songs I'll sing?" your presentation would be in twenty minutes and the songs were still to be chosen by Jake, your manager.

"Yeah, um," the girl quickly flipped one of the sheets on her chart to see the schedule. "London Boy and Mr. Perfectly Fine." you closed your eyes for a moment and tilted your head, accepting reality. London Boy was a song you wrote for Tom while the two of you were away and it was already out as a single, but Mr. Perfectly Fine, that was special. That song was not yet recorded and had been written this weeks of pain. Inspiration had been Tom and how he had post some pictures on instagram looking perfectly fine after all this situation. You weren't ready for Mr. Perfectly Fine, least of all right now.

"Mr. Perfectly Fine?" Sam asked, crossing his arms and looking at you before speaking. "She can't sing that song, it's not even recorded. Where's Jake?" he began to search with his gaze to the brunnete to be able to speak with him.

"It's fine," you put your hand on his shoulder. "I'll guess it's time to sing it to the world." you gave him an unconvinced smile.

"You're sure?" he asked, pulling you up so he could give you a short hug, resting his chin on your head.

"Yeah, Sammy," you smiled as you smelled his perfume. "I mean, it's just one song without Tom, how bad can it turn out, right?" you broke away from him and looked at your two friends.

None of the three wanted to admit it, but all of you knew that anything could go wrong. You knew Mr. Perfectly Fine was going to be a single, but you thought that when it came out, you would be in the couch eating a big pot of ice cream with Tom, or you would be dancing with Sam and all your friends, but this time it would be different, very different.

"I know but," Holland returned to the subject and clicked his tongue. "It's the first single without him, I thought you wanted to be crying in your room or some stuff like that." took a hit by Harrison at this last comment.

"Let me get this lad out of here before he convince you to run out of the studio." the blond boy grabbed the brunette and directed him to where they were sitting, while you took a quick drink from the bottle of water to also return to your starting position.

Finally, it was time to sing. "Everything's fine?" Bella asked as she adjusted the necklace that hung around your neck. You had had a little change and now your hair was in a high ponytail and your clothes was now a black shorts with a white long-sleeved blouse and a little pink blazer that matched your shoes.

"Yeah." you nodded and she withdrew. You were ready for the presentation, yes, but emotionally? absolutely not. You knew you could sing London Boy without any problem, but Mr. Perfectly Fine would be a big punch in your heart.

The melody of London Boy began to sound and the lights little by little were illuminating the place, letting you see yourself in front of a microphone and with a band behind.

But something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

"i'm Tom , and i suppose that you're Y/N Y/L, right?"

They say home is where the heart is

But that's not where mine lives

"i want you to move on with me and the boys, you know?"

You know I love a London boy

I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you

Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates

"so, this is Harrison and Tuwaine, and there is Harry and Sam, but you alredy met them."

So I guess all the rumors are true

"are Tom Holland and Y/N Y/L dating?"

You know I love a London boy

London Boy ended quickly even though you felt like an eternity. The music low but then rose in a second to start with the Mr. Perfectly Fine tune. You took a breath to calm yourself, but as soon as the first verse approached you searched with panicked eyes for Harrison and Sam. Harrison would hold his thumbs up towards you and Sam would whisper something in his ear, this made you more nervous.

Hello, Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breakin' mine?

"fine, i'm fucking leaving."

"it's not like you ever tried to stay."

Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby

[...]

And it's really such a shame

It's such a shame

'Cause I was Miss "Here to stay"

"of course i'll be right here when you come, dumbass."

Now I'm Miss "Gonna be alright someday"

"it's just some hard days, you know? I'll get over it, i'm fine."

And someday maybe you'll miss me

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

Applause rang out when the melody ended and you didn't sigh when, but tears ran down your cheek. You cleaned them up quickly and smiled.

"Wow, it's that a new song?" Jimmy asked as he came over to thank you and hug you.

"It is, yeah." you nodded and opened your arms to receive the interviewer. "The name is Mr. Perfectly Fine. It will be recorded soon, don't worry." you winked at the camera.

"Well, I'll guess the only thing I have left to say, it's," he look at you to get both of you to say it together and you quickly get it.

"Hello, Mr. Perfectly Fine, how's your heart after breaking mine?"

"It's falling apart, thanks for asking." Tom responded to the screen with a sour smile and closed his computer screen. Your laughter still rang out due to Tuwaine and Harry watching the show from the living room.

On the other side of the coin, Tom was not as good as he was shown. He returned to live with his friends as soon as the news that you were gone reached his ears. decided not to go looking for you thinking you wanted space for some time. His nights were crying and crying, going out to drink, being photographed with a girl but never going from there, because he felt bad having sex with her when he hadn't gotten over you, you didn't deserve that.

His bed felt cold at night, the closet was half empty, and your shampoo bottle was still in the bathroom. Tom wanted to forget you, but he couldn't if there were traces of you all over his house.

°•°•°•

"Where are you going?" Tuwaine asked Tom when he saw that he was going to leave the house.

"To get some tea, there's nothing left," he replied without looking at him, searching for the key to the front door. The key that had a black stripe of nailpolish that you had put so Tom could differentiate it from the others. Your ex ran his finger along the line, smiling to himself.

"Hell no, Thomas," Harry appeared and leaned back in the kitchen counter. "It's Sunday, remember? it's your turn to do the laundry."

"Man, c'mon," he narrowed his eyes and began to move the key between his hands. "I can do it when i get back."

"Nah ah." Harry shook his head and met glances with his brother. "You always said that. just separate it and you can go." he wrinkled his eyebrows at this answer.

"Mate, you're not my mom," he said with a smile, but his brother looked at him in a special way and he knew that look.

"Fine, fuck you anyways." left the keys on the small table in the living room and went to the laundry, where there were two baskets full of clothes. "Oh man, fuck me," he ran a hand across his forehead and walked over to the first basket. "Do the laundry." he mocked his brother and rolled his eyes.

But then, then the white shirt with a little taco appeared in his hands. He remembered very well that shirt, it was a pajama shirt that he combined with blue shorts with taco prints. He remembered that you had lost it and you could never find it. He took the garment and went back to the living room, where everyone but Sam was.

"Hey, where did this come from?" he asked, drawing everyone's attention and showed the shirt.

"Oh, I found it behind the red table, you know which one? the one that we always take to your parents' house." Harrison responded as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Tom nodded, wondering if he should do it or not, he was processing every thought that came to his head. Was it worth doing?

"You know what," he nodded and took the keys from the table, putting the shirt on his shoulder. "I'm gonna go to a place really quick."

"But the laundry-"

"I'll do it when i get back!" it was the last thing his friends and his brother heard before he walked out the front door.

"He scares me." Tuwaine said and everyone nodded with a little laugh.

Your doorbell rang and you grunted at this sound, because you had an omelette in the pan and you weren't expecting anyone, it rang another two times until your "coming!" reached the person's ears.

"What is it? I don't expect any package or I didn't order any-" your voice seemed to drop automatically when you saw him standing in front of you. her foot moved to calm her nerves and she held something white in her hand.

"Sorry for not asking and just showing up like this out of nowhere," he apologized, but seeing that you had no intention of speaking, he continued. "Um, i just found this shirt of you, it's the one with the taco and, you know, I thought you would like... can we talk please? even if it is just for closure." he practically begged you and you just nodded your head as you snapped back to reality. You turned around, implying that he would come in and close the door. You headed into the kitchen to turn off the pan and put your breakfast on a plate.

"Do you want some tea?" You were the first to speak, approaching the couch where he was already. shook his head.

"So, is it about me?" he asked once you took a seat on the couch.

"What thing?" you asked without understanding, it was early and your brain wasn't working yet.

"The song, Mr. Perfectly Fine." that took you by surprise, what kind of question was that? of course it was about him.

"Did you see the show?" you asked, ignoring her question. He nodded.

"Everyone in the house was watching it, it was hard to ignore it," he shrugged and you hid a smile at the thought that Tuwaine and Harry were still supporting you. "You didn't answer my question, tho."

"It is, Tom," you nodded and bit your lip thinking carefully what you would say. "Everything it's about you."

"Y/N-"

"Let me finish, please," you could feel your voice cracking and you didn't know if you would hold out long, it was better to speak now than never. "It's just that," you sighed before continuing. "You looked so good on your social networks, you were even more active than ever on instagram. You were photographed every Friday night with a new girl," you started playing with your hands to calm your nerves. "You looked so perfectly fine while I was destroyed." you finally finished and felt a relief to let those words out. Tom processed every word in his head, he just wanted to taste your sweet lips again and get them back together. but he knew that if he wanted that, he had to confess his feelings as well.

"I was not fine," he lowered her gaze and her heart was beating fast. "Yeah, I made out with some girls, but they were very different from you, I didn't want them to look like you." he bit the inside of her cheek as he felt the tears come to her eyes. "And I know it's not romantic at all, but I couldn't be with someone like you, I didn't feel comfortable."

"And even if I kissed them, it was never the same, I didn't take them home because you didn't deserve that. You didn't deserve that I touched another person in such a short time." he ran his hands through his hair and dropped a few tears. "And the night of your last show, yeah, I went to a house party and I kissed another girl," his confession turned your stomach, remembering the pain you felt when you saw that hickey in his neck. "It was only because we didn't see each other often and I really missed you so much. and i know it's not an excuse but it's the best i have to tell you."

"Tom, let me-"

"I still love you and I don't think I love anyone else in my whole life." he said with some desperation. you could see in Tom's eyes that he was really telling the truth. I was really having a hard time just like you, he wasn't being arrogant or a dickhead, he was being real.

"Here," you took his hand in yours looking for his contact. "What if," you started rubbing your thumb against his hand. "I let you take me on a date and we can erase this." the boy's eyes lit up at this proposal.

"Yeah, yeah of course." he said quickly, releasing himself from your grasp to wipe his tears away. "Whatever you want, baby," he covered his mouth as he told you that nickname. "sorry, Y/N."

"It's fine, darling," you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Tom?"

"Yeah?"

"I still love you too."

#fanfic #oneshot #tom holland #marvel #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland au

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barzzal · 3 years

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who’s the girl, barzy?

summary: mat gets caught up and preyed by the press as he does a post-game exclusive with the boys.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: boyfriend barzy getting all smitten

↳ genre: fluff, established relationship

↳ length: imagine; 1.4k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: omg my first barzal fic i hope y’all would like it. pls do let me know what you think so i could get better!! also, thank you @matbaerzal for answering my ask before and for being so nice! i rly appreciate it :)) hope you like !

It wasn’t until after the game that a couple of sport analysts cornered the boys in the locker room, eager to get a piece from them about the heated game they just had with the Flyers.

The questions were all being thrown at Jordan and Tito for a few minutes before it went sideways when Mat excused himself to answer a call from you.

You were already heading your way out the lounge when you called him. You didn’t want to disturb anything now that you know how stressed he gets whenever he’s in a match. He zones out pretty hard that’s why you tend to keep your distance and respect him by cheering him outside the rink.

You love it anyway, maybe a little more than you actually love him. Fine, that was a little too much, but that’s how it is. To see Mat grace the rink and be the person he was meant to, it was, indeed, everything you could ever ask for him.

“So, Mat, we’ve been hearing a lot of rumors going around outside the boy’s locker room.”

His teammates begin to laugh. Evidently teasing the now smitten Barzal, whose cheeks are much reddened that it usually was.

The two of you have gone out for only a few months and you both haven’t made it official. Not that it was important but Mat did like the idea of your name attached to his.

He ran his hand through his pitch black hair as he let out a nervous laugh. “I suppose those are the good kind?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one answering that?” The reporter asks again.

“We might’ve seen you with a certain someone strolling around Manhattan days before the big game.”

Tito taps Mathew’s shoulder, nudging him on his side like two teenage boys getting all giddy by the mere thought of a girl agreeing to go with them for the snow ball.

“They know it, barzy.” Tito teases further, earning a scoff from Mat.

“Shut up.” He says, stifling what he truly feels.

“Come on, Mat. You can tell them.” Jordan says, adding up to the banter going around the room.

Mathew can’t help but smile as he thinks of you waiting for him outside. He wanted to wrap the interview as quickly as possible but if it means that he gets to finally talk about you publicly, enough for the whole world to see; letting a few minutes of his time would be pretty much worthier compared to the number of tedious interviews he’s already done since he started playing.

“Well, er- her name’s y/n.” Mat starts with a warm smile spread on his lips.

“And she’s really amazing. I mean— I can’t even put it into words but she’s really special to me.”

Tito fakes a cough, chiding a comment underneath. “Caller. Call her.”

The reporters were quick to notice what Tito had said so they were immediately caught up on that bit of information. After all, they’re all up whatever Mathew has going on. So, the mere thought of Mathew Barzal dating? That’s big news.

“Was she the one who called earlier?” They ask to confirm.

To which Mat only nods as an answer.

“Why don’t you call her, Maty?” Jordan teases, using the name you frequently call him when you’re left alone in the room. Unfortunately, on one of those times, Jordan was nosy enough to catch the two of you in deep of each other’s presence, calling each other by their respective pet names.

The others began to cheer and join in the banter upon seeing Barzal hide his undeniable shyness from the camera.

“See? We’ve finally got a lover boy!” Tito rolls his eyes, mocking his best friend’s predicament.

“What’s the real score though? You know you’re gonna answer it anyway.”

Truth be told, you and Mat have never discussed anything that’ll lead to this question. The answer of who you both were in each other’s lives in particular. Mat is special to you, yes. It obviously goes the same for him as well but Mat, despite being a man whose calculations have been as precise as every goal he had done, couldn’t bring himself to ask you who he really was in your life.

‘“We haven’t talked about that part.” He shortly says, scratching on his eyebrow to mask his growing uneasiness.

“You can talk to her now.” Jordan suggests.

“That’s… interesting.” Tito arches a brow and throws his arm over Mat’s shoulder.

“You’d go on about this forever, huh?” Mat shakes his head. Admittedly wanting to do it himself despite all the teasing his mates were throwing at him since a while ago.

𖥸

With crossed legs and a hand on your chin, you were in no doubt beginning to grow bored of waiting for Mathew. People were walking past you already for about half an hour when you noticed that Mathew and the boys were being interviewed on the screen. You took your airpods off and decided to tune in.

The boys were laughing at Mathew who was now busy typing on his phone, all smiles as he glanced between it and the people watching him.

When your phone starts to ring and you see Mat’s caller ID flash on the screen, you assume that he wasn’t typing and doing some silly dare the boys talked him into doing. But why was he calling you when he was still in an interview anyway?

Wait, was that what this is about?

You were hesitant to pick up the call as there were a few people in the lounge but you did it anyway. You just have to hope that Mat knew what he was doing because if he’s ever going to play you like how he messes with his teammates, he’s definitely gonna hear an earful.

“Hi.” You quietly greet him, cautious people might begin looking towards where you’re seated.

“Hey.” Mat greets you back at the other end. You see his wide smile upon hearing you answer.

“Where are you right now?” He starts to ask. Knees jumping up and down, letting you know that he was starting to grow anxious.

“Uh- just, just outside. You know, where I’m usually at after the game.” You nervously laugh, afraid that by telling him where you actually are in front of everyone watching would only cost you attention you most certainly were not ready for.

“Alright, I just wanted to ask you something.” He starts, a smile still evident on his lips.

“Couldn’t it wait ‘til after your interview?”

“Well, It can. But I don’t think I’d have enough courage to ask. You know how nervous I get around you.” He chuckles. The sound you most absolutely love.

“M’kay then, what is it?”

You see him share one last look with the boys before he clears his throat as he finally asks you the one thing he’s been dying to know ever since you two had gone much exclusive.

“Beau’s been dying to know—” Mat jokes when Tito cuts him off, “That’s not me, y/n! It’s all him!”

You suppress a laugh whilst watching them clash on screen. The sight wasn’t new to you so you’d figure it wouldn’t harm to join the friendly banter going on live from the boy’s locker room.

“Why Beau? He already knows.” You bite your lower lip trying to remain calm and easy as you watch him act like a 15-year-old boy getting a girlfriend for the first time.

Mat’s eyes widened upon hearing what you said on speaker. Tito, however, despite having that conversation with you, only shrugged and acted like he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Jordan leans on the phone and says, “Just ask her, maty.”

You were quick to bury your face in your palm. Jordan continues to goof off and taunt the young lad.

Mathew rolls his eyes, which was unfortunately caught on cam, as he shifts his angle a little to the left to give himself the privacy that’s been long gone the moment he agreed on calling you live.

“What am I? I mean… are we—”

“Are we, you know?”

Mathew massages his nape, exasperated after realizing the mistake he had done not thinking things through just in case you were going to say no. Nonetheless, just like what he does for a living, he decides to just shoot for it and hope he’d get the goal he’s gonna be known for for a while.

“Let’s date. Like for real. What do you think?” He asks. Cheers loud and clear on the set.

“I thought you’d never ask, Barzy.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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chuck-the-goon · 4 years

Text

So my brother was showing me a few videos where American baseball, on friendly matches when the season’s not in, actually attach microphones and headpieces to a few players during the game? And instantly my head went straight to ‘what if they did that with Exy?’

They ask Andrew, Kevin, and Neil to give it a go first. Wymack making them do it for publicity, but also as a way for Neil to save face after his biting comebacks at post-game interviews. And also to give the foxes a slightly better rep all in.

They soon realise that they get nothing from Andrew apart from a bit of heavy breathing every now and then. The crowd and commentators put it down to Andrew’s commitment and focus and all the foxes get a good laugh at that when they watch the replay.

Kevin and Neil try not give Andrew away by snorting into their own mics, Kevin tries to hide his own guffaw the first time it happens by coughing violently enough that they ask if he needs to sit out.

Neil doesn’t say much apart from counting his steps in multiple languages, but it’s just a random number here and there. But then when the commentators ask Neil questions, he’s still as sassy as ever.

“Neil, tell us what’s going through your mind!” the second he scores.

“I’m thinking I might take my teammate up on his offer for a therapist because the voices in head are starting to give me dangerous ideas.”

“We’ll...let you play on and come back to you later then.”

But when Neil does start having fun, starts to relax a little, he gives some of the wittiest comments and opinions, and some really snarky tips for all the players. People start tuning into the foxes game’s a lot more for his dry sense of humour.

Kevin though.

Kevin ‘most handsome and well spoken and humble in the public eye’ Day is sweating. And his teammates know it, all having a small twinkle of mischief in their eyes.

Kevin is downright vicious when he’s playing, especially in his commands to other players to pass to him, or watch his back, or defend the goal. His french is downright filthy sometimes too. So this headset thing is a lesson in control for Kevin.

He does well for the most part, but you can’t hold Kevin back when his brain is in competitive mode.

And then when the commentators start asking questions mid match...it doesn’t take long for Kevin to crack.

“Your style of playing has changed so much in the past few years since you left the Ravens, how do your teammates fare in comparison, now that you all seem to be settled.”

“They’re been improving every day and I can proudly say that they are meeting every expectation I have- except Neil! Christ sake! I was right there! même votre mère pouvait voir que je me tenais là et elle est six pieds sous!”

“...Kevin, sorry son, we missed that, could you repeat that but in English?”

Neil, fuming and ready to hurl his racket at Kevin’s head a few hundred times, “Yeah, Kevin, c’mon, tell the whole world what you just said.”

Kevin goes deathly pale and doesn’t really say anything for the rest of the match, but in his post-game interview, it’s his turn to start trying to save face.

Somewhere, Jean is howling in laughter at Kevin’s expense.

And yet, this slightly unpolished version of Kevin makes him more favourable in the public eye for not being so robotic and inhuman, and that he does slip up every now and then.

Everyone kind of hates it but they’re also hella relieved.

It does take quite a bit of sucking up to do on Kevin’s part.

They give everyone else a turn on the headset: Aaron is the same as Andrew and doesn’t say much, Nicky won’t stop talking to give the other players a chance to chip in, Dan is professional as always, Matt laughs infectiously even when he stumbles, and get’s everyone’s team spirit up, Allison is flirtatious and just as sassy, Renee is the humble one and comments more on the great skills of the opposing players.

All in all, it’s an experience for all of them and Wymack regrets his decision to do this before it even finishes.

Feel free to add anything on to this!! And Kevin says something along the lines of ‘your mother could see I was standing there and she is six feet under’ which is just...harsh dude. Maybe it takes a while for the public to get over that when they translate after all. And maybe a statement or two from Neil for people to forgive and forget...

#aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #kevin day #neil josten #nicky hemmick #allison reynolds #aaron minyard #renee walker #dan wilds #matt boyd #david wymack #the raven king #the king's men #my writing

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ingek73 · 3 years

Text

Game, set, and twat: Whether it’s Meghan or Naomi Osaka, Piers Morgan’s MailOnline-enabled bullying has a pattern...

... the mediocre hack’s mediocre hack hates women who don’t dance to his tune.

Mic Wright

11 hr ago

If someone had a blog and Twitter account where they relentlessly attacked a series of high profile women — many of them women of colour — for perceived slights and their refusal to pay the writer attention, we’d usually call that person a bully and a troll, and if they persisted in that behaviour they might even find themselves facing legal consequences.

But Piers Morgan has a TV career and a MailOnline byline so he’s given impunity to mock, abuse, and denigrate women while claiming he’s just a ‘critical voice’. His latest target is Naomi Osaka, the 23-year-old tennis player who is currently ranked number 2 in the world, is the reigning champion of the US Open and Australian Open, and became the first woman to win back-to-back grand slams since Serena Williams in 2015.

By contrast, Piers Morgan is a mediocre hack who owes his controversy-baiting career to Simon Cowell who pulled him out of the dumper of history and plonked him on the America’s Got Talent panel after he was frog-marched out of Fleet Street for slapping faked photos on the front page of a national newspaper. That incident was the last in an ignominious run at The Daily Mirror and, before that, in the Murdoch press, which I have covered extensively in the past.

[image description] Twitter avatar for @Nabilu

Nabil Abdulrashid

@Nabilu

If time machines existed Piers Morgan would go backwards in time to chat shit about Rosa Parks

May 31st 2021

346 Retweets2,456 Likes]

Morgan’s latest creepy obsession was triggered — I use that word deliberately — by Osaka’s decision not to speak to the press during the French Open at Roland Garros because interviews were affecting her mental health. She subsequently withdrew from the tournament altogether after winning her first match, having been fined $15,000 for not speaking to the media and warned she was at risk of being expelled from the event.

In her statement yesterday, Osaka wrote that she had suffered “long bouts of depression” since she defeated Serena Williams in the 2018 US Open Final and received significant media attention. She continued:

I never wanted to be a distraction and I accept that my timing was not ideal and my message could have been clearer. More importantly, I would never trivialise mental health or use the term lightly.

Nothing in either of Osaka’s statements support Morgan’s sneering labelling of the player as “Narcissistic Naomi” or “world sport’s most petulant little madam”. Once again a 56-year-old man is using his vast and undeserved media platform to bully and harass a woman half his age. And — surprise, surprise — it’s actually just a new front in his obsessive one-sided war on the Duchess of Sussex.

Beneath the frankly unhinged headline, Narcissistic Naomi's cynical exploitation of mental health to silence the media is right from the Meghan and Harry playbook of wanting their press cake and eating it, Morgan writes:

Naomi Osaka is a brilliant tennis player…

… She is also the highest-paid female athlete in the world, raking in $55.2 million in the past 12 months, $5.2 million from tennis winnings and $50 million from endorsement deals with the likes of Nike, Beats by Dre, Mastercard and Nissin…

… Unfortunately, Ms Osaka is also an arrogant spoiled brat whose fame and fortune appears to have inflated her ego to gigantic proportions.

How else to explain her extraordinary decision to announce she will no longer participate in media press conferences, supposedly to protect her mental health?

Morgan is pretending that he doesn’t know that money is not an impregnable suit of armour to protect your mental health. Osaka could be the richest woman in the world and still face anxiety and depression. In fact, at just 23, the pressures of her performance-driven, endorsement-laden life are arguably more likely to lead to those feelings than a ‘normal’ one.

But rather than seeing Osaka as a young woman in an extraordinary position who is struggling with those demands and finding the hectoring, hostile, and entitled attitude of the press hard to handle at the moment, Morgan calls her “petulant” and continues:

[She] was fined $15,000 for refusing to appear in front of the media… Of course, given that she earns around $6,000 an hour, Osaka will recoup this fine while she sleeps tonight, rendering the fine utterly meaningless.

What's not meaningless is her frankly contemptible attempt to avoid legitimate media scrutiny by weaponizing mental health to justify her boycott.

Morgan departed Good Morning Britain after the row that followed his comment that he “didn’t believe a word” of the Duchess of Sussex’s statements about her mental health during the Oprah interview. Now, the mental health analyser has logged on again and he has determined that Naomi Osaka does not meet his standard of distress. Sadly, he secured his professional qualifications in this area by scrawling a certificate in crayon on the back of a Pizza Express kids menu.

[image description] Twitter avatar for @PaulbernalUK

Paul Bernal

@PaulbernalUK

What is it about Naomi Osaka and Meghan Markle that gets Piers Morgan so worked up, I wonder. Image

May 31st 2021

1,726 Retweets10,537 Likes

He claims that after reading Osaka’s Instagram post about press conferences, which he calls “an orgy of narcissistic twaddle”, “several times” he experienced “mounting fury”. Remember, this is a 56-year-old man contorting his melted waxwork face into an angry rictus over a 23-year-old woman he doesn’t know choosing not to appear at a press conference. I am not convinced that Osaka is the narcissistic one here.

Morgan continues:

One thing’s very clear: This has got nothing to do with mental health.

What Osaka really means is that she doesn’t want to face the media if she hasn’t played well, because the beastly journalists might actually dare to criticise her performance…

… This is straight out of the Meghan and Harry playbook of wanting to have the world’s largest cake and eating it, by exploiting the media for ruthless self-promotion but using mental health to silence any media criticism.

One thing’s very clear: This has got nothing to do with Naomi Osaka.

What Morgan really means is that he’s still beetroot red over a perceived slight by Meghan back in 2016, which he only started ranting about after he didn’t get an invite to her wedding and was “ghosted”. That came after two years of him tweeting about her as a “friend”.

Piers Morgan is simply using Naomi Osaka as another way to wage his sad fuck guerilla war against the Sussexes. And Osaka is just the latest in a long string of young women to fall short of his weirdo expectations.

He berated Lady Gaga on social media, attacking her after she spoke about dealing with PTSD after being raped, and goaded her so much that she agreed to an interview clearly in the hope of getting him to stop.

He attacked Arianna Grande after the Manchester Arena attack and kept up his bullying for six months until she agreed to have dinner with him after what he said was a “chance meeting”. After she had conceded to spending time in his fetid presence he shifted tack and started creepily calling her his “soulmate” — she was 26 at the time.

These obsessions with young women are often framed as “feuds” in the press, but they are, in fact, byline-enabled stalking. Morgan has a huge platform and he abuses it to get women to concede to him, to make mollifying noises, to pretend that they are his friends just to get him to stop.

The only difference between Piers Morgan and a street harasser screaming at a woman to smile is that MailOnline and ITV pay him handsomely for the privilege. Tonight, Morgan’s ‘Life Stories’ interview with Keir Starmer goes out on ITV and he’ll once again get a chance to dominate the headlines. His views are given credence by the political elite even as he continues to abuse women for attention and praise.

It’s a tactic he’s used for decades, stretching back to his time on The Sun’s Bizarre column, where he insisted on inserting pictures of himself cuddling up to celebrities. His ‘feud’/obsession with Madonna has run on for decades, beginning in his Fleet Street days when she didn’t give him the exclusive on her first pregnancy and continuing right up until now.

As with Lady Gaga, Morgan has repeatedly mocked and dismissed Madonna for saying she was raped in the past. However, unlike Gaga, Madonna has refused to pay homage to Morgan with an interview. He preemptively ‘banned’ her from his CNN show back in 2011 though she had shown not one scintilla of interest in appearing, and tried to reignite interest in his hatred for her in 2016 by saying he would end “the feud” if she apologised to him. He’s still waiting for that call.

Morgan’s attack on Osaka, which is simply another attempt to get at Meghan, came two days after a Daily Mail interview with Jan Moir in which he grumbled:

[Meghan] thinks she’s beaten me? She might be in for a surprise because I suspect I’ll be back soon. If Meghan thinks she has cancelled me or won the battle, she is in for a big shock. I’ve never been more popular.

It made me think of this moment in Mad Men:

Michael Ginsberg: What do I care? I got a million of them… a million…

Don Draper: Good. I guess I’m lucky you work for me.

Michael Ginsberg: I feel bad for you.

Don Draper: I don’t think about you at all.

Meghan is Draper. Morgan is a total Ginsberg — smug and self-satisfied, convinced that Meghan is as obsessed with him as he is with her, certain that they are having a feud between equals and not the same dynamic as every woman cursed with a sad but sinister stalker.

And while Morgan acts like he’s a brave truth-teller, he only dares pump his horseshit opinions into MailOnline’s open sewer once he’s fairly sure that there are enough other media bullies taking the same line. The Australian’s tennis correspondent Will Swanton filed his misogynist screed a full day before Morgan got round to his.

There’s a clue as to how Morgan expects young women to act around him in the latest instalment of his journals — The Diary of Samuel Creeps — which are published in The Mail on Sunday.

Recounting his visit to what sounds like a truly mind-numbing party (“…drinking cocktails, nibbling canapés and having actual ‘fun’ in the garden of the Notting Hill home of Gabriela Peacock, nutritionist to the stars.”) he describes an encounter with Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie:

Princess Beatrice arrived with her husband Eduardo. They announced her first pregnancy today, and both seemed ecstatically happy.

‘Please thank your mum for her supportive texts when I left GMB,’ I told her. ‘She’s always been very loyal to me, and I greatly appreciate it.’

‘Well, you’ve been very loyal to her,’ Beatrice replied, ‘and she appreciates that too.’

I’ve always had a soft spot for Fergie.

Princess Eugenie, who gave birth to her first child three months ago, joined her sister. ‘If you two need any parenting tips for your expanding Royal creche, I’ve had four kids so am something of an expert,’ I suggested.

Their regal eyebrows shot up in synchronised horror. ‘No, we’re good thanks, Piers,’ came the firm, unified response.

I’ve known both Princesses since they were very young, and they’ve been through a lot of tough times in the media spotlight, especially lately over their father Prince Andrew’s shameful friendship with billionaire paedophile Jeffrey Epstein.

But they never complain, or give whining interviews, or publicly trash their family, and they’re always incredibly nice, polite and good fun – which all makes such a refreshing change from their narcissistic, self-pitying, family-abusing, spoiled-brat cousins over in California.

Piers Morgan wants to be treated as famous rather than infamous, and likes women to indulge his antics and act as if they’re amused by his sweaty-handed attention. Fergie — a woman devoid of discernible talent beyond tolerating her ex-husband’s second career as the top Yelp! reviewer at Jeffrey Epstein’s houses — is a-ok with Piers because she sucks up to him. Similarly, her daughters are delightful because they’ll tolerate Morgan’s dad jokes and fetid familiarity.

Morgan is not a journalist, a truth-teller, a maverick, or a commentator in anything but bad faith. He’s nothing more than a misogynist with a MailOnline byline and some big money contracts. Don’t let him pretend to be anything else.

#piers morgan #naomi osaka #meghan markle #lady gaga #ariana grande

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darkpoisonouslove · 3 years

Text

Riven x Musa

Ok, so I keep seeing posts everywhere that basically badmouth S8 and after seeing ten seconds of the trailer (YIKES to the animation, what’s wrong with the industry that they are making everything anime? Powerpuff Gen Z, I’m looking at you – obs: I didn’t watch it fully yet) I can see where some of the criticism is coming from but anyways…

My favorite Winx!couple EVER has always been Musa x Riven since I was kid and first watched the show (Netflix is not helping ‘cause I ship them even there).

I remember yawning at Bloom/Sky, rolling my eyes at Stella/Brandom and making a completely incredulous expression that I could literally feel forming on my face at Helia/Flora (can anyone say ‘unrealistic’?). Timmy/Tecna are a second favorite.

And why my Winx OTP are Riven x Musa followed after Timmy x Tecna? Because it reflects real life. In real life you’re not gonna stumble into people whose real and deep relationship problems are solved in twenty four minutes (not even that considering that some episodes present the “problem” half-way through said 24 minute-episode).

The breakup between Riven and Musa in S6 (spoilers everywhere after all) was one of the most mature breakups in the history of breakups with the hope for the future (yes, I’m completely ignoring S7, sue me, the whole thing was one huge filler anyways). And, after reading a lot of opinions on both ends (defending Musa/attacking Riven and defending Riven/attacking Musa) and watching the episodes in question (reuniting through reconciling) I think I can give my own analysis.

Since Musa AND Riven (individually and as couple) are my favorite characters in Winx, I think I CAN give a fairly unbiased view (hopefully).

*clears throat*

Ok, keep in mind that I’m defending BOTH of them, because I ship them too hard not to.

Musa Being OC (sometimes being called ‘brat’): C'mon, people! Musa and Tecna are OC since S4 anyways, where are the tomboy and the nerd? With the sneakers, T-shirt and comfortable-looking clothes? Noooo, now they all need neat skirts and hot pink high heels and long, glamorous hair. Do they look good? Of course, but and I would totally be less pissed if there was ANY indication on the reason for the change. Are they just maturing? Expressing themselves differently? Crowd mentality? Tune and Stella finally broke Musa down and Tecna followed soon after? Was it just to please Riven and Timmy? ANYTHING (even the 'pleasing a boy’ would at least be A reason - a ridiculous one that would piss me off, but A reason none the less), was just a sudden impulse that took?

Sure, we can talk about “character growth” until we are blue in the face, but the matter of the fact is that there was none.

The changes we see in Musa and Tecna are basically the creators making them more like the rest of the Winx (I’m including Aisha in this too, where is the sporty girl that matched the boy’s interest in extreme sports? C'mon! Even Bloom and her Girl Next Door looks are replaced with Bratz and Clueless-level of outfits).

Is anyone really going to look me in the eye and say Stella wasn’t a shallow (if friendly and good-natured) Mean Girl? She got better, but as I re-watch the show (currently in S3, meaning almost half-way through the content), Stella still worries more about her hair than anything else even while under literal fire.

More and more, Musa, Tecna and Aisha are losing their identities and what made them, IMO, the more badass Winx.

How did the two on the left went from this…

… to this:

Yeah, yeah, Musa still sings, Tecna still technobabble and Aisha is still a Warrior Princess but Aisha was the first one to go Bloom and Stella on us with Musa and then Tecna following soon after. It’s not just their clothing style, it’s the way they carried themselves too.

Right now? The only thing keeping them apart is their BF blues (different kind of blues) and some personal interests (singing, shopping, tech, the whole drama with Domino/Sparks, etc). But that’s IT, their personalities are going down the drain!

Sorry for the long-winded text, but the reason I’m expressing my disappointment at their change is because Musa’s reaction fits it. S6 we have such an AMAZING breakup (didn’t even think that was possible, WTH, right? Amazing breakup?) only for her to be mad as hell at Riven at S8? Bad writing, that has been dragging her (and the rest of the Winx) down to becoming just one unilateral, shallow character (the Specialists are also falling into that pit, what in the world did they do Helia in S8? He sounds like Thor telling about his “brave exploits” there, yikes). And continuity what? What continuity? Do they even remember how the breakup was written?

But ok, let’s put the Audience View aside for a moment and focus only on the In-Universe terms.

S6: You’ll always be my hero.

S8: What on EARTH are you doing here.

I laughed a bit, the contrast just got to me but instead of getting mad at one or the other like most of the fandom, I laughed.

Musa followed that by saying that Riven has not maintained contact and just in that I would be beyond pissed as well and giving my support to Musa. WTH, Riven? I think that each season is more less six months to a year? Sort of? Still, zero contact for so long even after ending on amicable terms and wanting to stay friends? And he went off on his own! A text now going, “I’m not dead” would be the bare basics for Musa not to worry herself bald!

BUT then I also read comments about how this was a two-way street, why didn’t Musa call either? That’s unfortunately something that I very much doubt will ever be explained. One of those: did it or didn’t it? Musa could have called and went straight to voicemail with no signs of life from Riven or she might not have called and just expected him to call as if feminism were dead and all initiative must come from the guy (which doesn’t even fit because they parted as friends).

Since we have no info on the above, I put it on both of them. It’s not fair to say, “HE should have called!” or “Why didn’t SHE call?” because we don’t have fricking context. So the only thing we can take is: no contact.

BECAUSE I put the lack of contact on both of them, Musa’s reaction was a little too much, however, Riven shows up all smirks and leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and I would have flashbacks to S1 if it wasn’t for the animation style that made all the guys look like girls. Dude! Not the time for that kind of posture. Not saying that he should be all sheepish and rubbing his arm as if he had done something horrible (again: we don’t have context on the no contact) but a more neutral approach was warranted here. Nobody does themselves any favors with that kind of attitude no matter what how high of a horse they may be (rightly or not) riding on, if anything I would react like Musa solely on that one.

Next episode we have that Riven convinced the guys to follow the girls in some mission and Musa was angry. Again: I would be too. WTH? Yes, yes, they helped and if it wasn’t for them, the Winx would gotten seriously injured but Musa did have a point saying that this demonstrated that they had no trust in them and need their hand held, it was no sanctioned mission like on Earth after all. BUT, Riven does something that I would never expect from in S1-4: he explains, he reasons it, he puts it in all the words that he does trust Musa and co and that he only wanted to show that he’d be there for her (you know? One of the main issues in S6 that made them breakup in the first place? His inability to conciliate Specialist work with supporting his girlfriend and ultimately failing or feeling like failing in both?) and Musa still pouts, crosses her arms, and turns around. Geez. I expected that one from Stella, not Musa. I think the closest Musa has ever come to THIS was back in S2 when Jared explains that Riven was the one to recommend that he interview Musa and yada yada yada and she got mad and stomped off on the poor guy that didn’t even understand what was going on (only to immediately apologize to Jared and recognizing that it wasn’t him that she was mad at… like I said: what character growth?).

Riven then goes to show that he indeed grew when he asked for advice from Sky and Brandon (WTH, right? Can we picture that happening back in S1-3? He very grudgingly would LISTEN to UNSOLICITED advice from Nabu and Helia in S4-6). And does a very, very goofy and embarrassing show of affection. Yeah… again… I can picture Stella loving the light show with her face for IDK how many people to see but not Musa (although can we really blame the guy after the series went out of its way to make Musa all Stella-like? Clothes, attitude, the only thing missing is making Riven carry her shopping bags around and call him “Shnookums” (although the mental image is already enough for me to fall over laughing, just for the face Riven would make). Still, I have to count that one against Riven if only because (as much as the show gives only lip service to it) Musa isn’t Stella.

Riven being mind controlled (again) aside, those two are back together. And on the overall? Riven showed more growth than any other character in the show COMBINED (he is the Zuko of the show), that doesn’t go to say that he didn’t make mistakes since coming back in S8 (but that was more a guy trying to win back a girl than… betraying his friends for a pair of nice legs or… IDEK like in S1 – where, mind control or not the show itself made sure to make it clear that he had free will) or that he is now the one out of Musa’s league. I think that NOW it can actually work… if the show allows him to keep the progress, Musa is the next to see her flaws and work on them (which she showed to be able to do since S2) and put effort in the relationship. The difference between them is that Musa can actually work on herself and the relationship at the same time. That’s not me saying she is better than Riven in any way, everybody has their own pace and their own way to cope, to improve and to self-reflect.

I still root for them.

~*~

PS-IDK why, but I read posts about how Riven changed so much and posts about how all his progress disappeared and he is now back to his S1 attitude and I’m just cofused. Yeah, different of opinions and so on, but such opposite opinions on the subject of a guy whose relationship was focused on three episodes?

#winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #anti stella #submission

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Shaw’s Encounter Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (and Season 2) which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

It’s important to know what’s going on in Season 2 so you wouldn’t get confused in this date. Do read this post if you don’t! :)

Parallel World Dates Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Victor

Check out @skyholders‘ translation of Lucien’s date here!

Making use of the university vacation, I return to Loveland City to begin practicing producing programs with the company.

Once I'm done with my afternoon work, I smile and lean towards Anna’s desk.

MC: We did quite a lot today. Thank you Anna.

Anna: I didn’t actually teach you much. You’re quick-witted, and you move fast.

In front of her desk, Anna looks at the time and smiles at me.

Anna: There’s nothing much left for today. Go back early, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

Standing under the office building, I look towards the continuous crowd on the road and let out a long sigh.

During this season, Loveland City is the same as always, filled with water vapour and lush greenery. This normal afternoon is similar to the peacefulness and comfort in my memory.

Everything I've been through before, along with time’s unstoppable passage, causes familiar and foreign faces to continuously overlap.

Clearing my head, I stand at the bus stop. A bus happens to stop, and it displays three numbers: 330.

My heart suddenly skips a beat. I act without thinking, stepping forward like a puppet.

“Ding.”

When I regain my senses, I’m already on the bus that’s travelling in a completely opposite direction from my home.

MC: ...

I can’t help but release a sigh, mocking myself silently in my heart.

There aren’t many passengers on the bus. I sit at the same seat as before - the one against the window.

Outside the bus windows, pedestrians weave around busily. The noon sunlight falls onto the glass, making one feel warm.

However, I can’t help but recall that scene--

The early morning. Empty streets. Everyone feeling anxious in response to the danger...

And that unreasonable person who arrives and leaves whenever he wants to.

It seems like a world away, but it was real.

An inexplicable bitterness arises in my heart, and I rub my eyes.

MC: Where... could you be now?

While I’m mumbling to myself, the bus happens to stop at a familiar crossing. I lift my head subconsciously, staring closely at the entrance, as though anticipating something.

Even after the doors shut, no one boards the bus.

I smile in self-mockery, returning my gaze to the window.

MC: It makes sense. It didn’t happen at this time originally... since he said he wouldn’t be late again, I’ll trust him for once.

With the roar of the engine, the bus continues on the road.

Suddenly, along with the sound of wheels violently scraping the ground, the bus stops.

Losing my balance, I hit the chair in front of me with a dull thud.

MC: Ouch...

Bus driver: Do you want to die! You dare to block a bus!

The driver’s cursing brings me back to my senses. Even though I know I shouldn’t harbour such expectations, I can’t help but lift my head--

Carrying a long black bag, the lavender-haired man walks over.

[Note: Some CN players pointed out that Shaw shouldn’t be carrying a long black bag i.e. guitar bag. He should be carrying a skateboard.]

Under his scattered bangs, his lazy eyes meet mine.

He still has that casual and arrogant look, and doesn’t seem to care about the episode he just caused.

The light casts a faint halo on his messy hair, making every step he takes towards me appear unhurried.

In the next second, he sits down in the seat next to me.

I feel a little confused, as though someone has pressed a “freeze” button on me. I’m so shocked that I can’t move. I can only stare at him.

He puts down his skateboard, placing it upright in between us. He crosses his legs and takes out a black mp4 from his pocket--

Only now does my blood continue to flow. I sense a wave of inexplicable happiness within me, and I blink my slightly swollen eyes slowly.

Noticing my gaze, he turns his head over, eyebrows arched high. One corner of his lips crooks up into a smile.

Shaw: You want to listen?

MC: N-no.

I wave my hands subconsciously. Only after saying this do I realise the familiarity of this conversation.

In the quiet bus, that familiar tune of <<Holiday>> flows from his earpieces, though it isn’t very clear.

The familiar scene is like a replay. My heart feels as though it’s been tapped by something, and it’s difficult to remain calm.

Feeling slightly confused by this coincidental meeting with Shaw, I can’t help but turn and give him a glance, unsure of what to say.

MC: You...

Shaw: You want to ask about this?

Shaw casually sways the black cube in his hand with a half-smile.

Shaw: It’s a music player.

Different from typical music players, it has two extra dials at the bottom. The metal panel looks very shiny and smooth, as though it hasn’t been used for long.

Even though there are many things I want to say to him, I think about the “warning”--

“Your unintentional actions may lead to irretrievable consequences.”

I bite my lip and decide to quell my ideas. I continue.

MC: ...I see.

For some inexplicable reason, a patter of rain suddenly descends on this originally sunny afternoon. Before I can think about it, the bus makes a sudden sharp turn-

MC: Oof!

After getting hit, I cover my forehead with one hand. By the time I steady myself, Shaw’s eyes have already turned into impatient arcs, and he says directly to the driver:

Shaw: Oi, drive slowly!

Bus driver: This is a public...

With disdain in his eyes, Shaw stores away his earlier nonchalance, and says coldly.

Shaw: Drive slowly, do you hear me?

Intimidated by Shaw, the driver quickly nods. Shaw runs his fingers through his hair, and regains his earlier expression in an instant.

The ends of his narrow eyes are slightly raised, and he shoots me a playful look. He curls the corners of his mouth and his smile deepens.

Shaw: You bumped my skateboard.

This brat - he’s still the same as before!

MC: I’m sorry, I’ll apologise to it then.

She recalls the last time she saw him on the roof (Ch 37 of the main storyline, before Season 2) and his casual farewell

She decides that while Shaw has re-entered her life on his own terms, she wouldn’t let him leave casually again

It starts pouring heavily, and the bus driver asks everyone to get off

Shaw refuses to do so

Shaw: You want us to get off just because you say so? Who are you to say this?

MC tells the driver that since they aren’t in a rush, they can wait for the rain to become lighter before continuing the journey

She’s also secretly happy to extend this moment with Shaw

Soon, apart from the driver, only Shaw and I are left on the bus.

I cast sweeping glances at Shaw several times. I clear my throat, about to greet him formally--

Shaw: Oi...

I’m caught off guard when he suddenly turns towards me, his eyes teasing and amused.

Shaw: You’ve looked at me so many times... tell me, what do you want?

Tremendously loud thunder resounds in the sky. Heavy rain splatters against the glass windows, leaving behind smears like those in an oil painting.

I’m caught off guard by his sudden remark.

MC: You really don’t plan to leave the bus?

Shaw: Is there a problem?

MC: It looks like the rain will continue for a long time. Simply waiting seems boring. Why don’t we have a chat?

Shaw doesn’t respond immediately. He narrows his eyes and looks at me, his eyes revealing a meaningful expression.

Realising something, I immediately straighten up and my mind starts whirring.

MC: Actually, I’m an intern producer. I recently participated in a program related to Loveland University. You should be a University student too, right? Are you interested in being interviewed?

Shaw: Not interested.

MC: ...

Even though he rejected me outright, I had already expected it. Taking a deep breath, I try again.

MC: This interview is not a typical interview. It’s even more interesting than you can imagine. It isn’t boring at all. Also, I guarantee there wouldn’t be more than five questions! How about that - are you willing to cooperate?

I widen my eyes, looking at him expectantly.

Shaw tilts his head to the side. After looking me up and down for a few seconds, he closes his eyes and leans back against the seats comfortably.

Shaw: [sighs] Fine, ask away.

I feel refreshed with his agreement, and immediately retrieve a pen and paper from my bag, putting on a serious expression.

MC: May I know what your name is...?

He pouts. After two seconds, he lazily responds.

Shaw: Shaw.

MC: Are you a student from Loveland University?

Shaw releases a lazy “mm” from his nose.

MC: Archaeology?

Once the question leaves my lips, Shaw arches his eyebrows, looking at me playfully.

Shaw: How did you know?

MC: ...based on your temperament and appearance.

Shaw: Oh. Unfortunately, you got it wrong. I just got my research qualifications, so it doesn’t count.

MC: ...

I continue wearing an unfazed expression on my face, but am secretly shocked.

This person is pretty amazing.

MC: ...since you say this, you must really like antiques then?

Shaw: They’re all right.

MC: As a contemporary university student, you definitely have other hobbies apart from your own studies, right? For instance... something band-related?

Shaw widens his eyes and looks at me once he hears my words. Afraid he’d see through me, I squeeze out a professional, business-like smile.

The corners of his lips slowly curl into a teasing smile. Just when I think he’s about to respond, he suddenly snatches away my paper and pen.

MC: Ah!

Shaw: Your handwriting is really ugly.

He sweeps over my notes, then closes the book.

Shaw: Didn’t you say it wouldn’t be boring? Your interview doesn’t seem to match what you guaranteed.

MC: This is just the beginning. I haven’t reached the interesting questions yet!

Shaw: Stop taking notes. Let’s just chat casually. Also, what’s your name?

MC: ...MC.

Shaw: Which production company are you interning at?

MC: I’m the one interviewing you. Why are you the one asking me questions now?

Shaw: You’ve asked more than enough. It’s only fair if it’s reciprocal.

In the midst of conversing with Shaw, we seem to get to know each other again seriously.

The rain has become lighter, and the bus finally reaches the final stop slowly.

Once we leave the bus, he suddenly stuffs a transparent umbrella into my hand, then turns around to leave.

The water kicked up by his black sneakers splash onto his ripped jeans.

Shaw: You’re welcome.

Shaw lifts an arm and waves it. His lazy voice drifts towards me, entering my ears.

Watching his retreating form, I grip the umbrella tightly and bite my lips.

The trajectory of destiny is always deviating, yet seems to meet sometimes. Since meeting him again was destined to happen--

I no longer hesitate, and run in the direction where Shaw left. The water under my feet splashes, but the only thing I’m afraid of is not being able to run fast enough.

Finally, I see him at the intersection in front--

MC: Shaw! Wait for me!!

Shaw doesn’t seem to hear me, and he turns right into a small path. I hurriedly chase after him and enter the corner--

MC: Oof!

I crash into a sturdy yet warm chest.

Shaw is leaning sideways against the corner of the wall, one hand gently holding onto me, and the other stuffed in his pocket. He has a calm and relaxed expression.

Shaw: What is it? You like my skateboard that much?

I immediately straighten up, and realise that I’ve knocked into his skateboard again.

MC: ...

Shaw: Why did you call out to me? Just to make things clear - the interview is already over. No matter how many questions you ask, I won’t answer.

His familiar expression makes me want to tell him many, many things. Even after opening and closing my mouth a few times, I have no idea where to start. It seems as though no matter what I say, it wouldn’t be appropriate.

After some hesitation, I finally lift up the umbrella in my hand.

MC: I... I’m here to return the umbrella!

As though responding to me, rain starts to patter down around us, and onto Shaw’s hair. It looks like a soft halo.

Slightly surprised, I look towards the inexplicable light rain. I happen to see the imperceptible smile at the corner of Shaw’s mouth.

He seems... to be in a good mood?

MC: Since it’s raining again, here, I’m returning the umbrella!

Shaw stares at me fixedly for two seconds, his smile widening. Finally, he settles on a playful smile.

Shaw: ...quite interesting.

Unable to hear him clearly, I ask “what?”. He doesn’t repeat himself, but takes the umbrella from me.

“Pa.”

The transparent umbrella suddenly opens above me. Rain drops patter continuously on the transparent umbrella.

The pitter patter of rain enters my ears.

MC: Do you feel the rain getting heavier?

Shaw: Want to avoid the rain?

MC: Ah?

Shaw: Let’s go. That place doesn’t look too bad.

He brings her to the Street Art Exhibition House

She starts talking about including this location into her program

Shaw catches her in her lie: Wasn’t her program about university students? Why is she suddenly talking about exhibitions?

MC gives an excuse on how she’s able to multi-task

Shaw: It’s best to be focused during your internship. It’s not good to be distracted.

MC: ...sounds like you have working experience?

Shaw: I don’t. Who says I need to have experience to offer advice?

Shaw: Oi, do you know me?

MC: ...!

My heart leaps, and I instantly deny it in a loud voice.

MC: How is that possible!

Shaw: Really?

MC: Of course!

Shaw: So why did you chase after me?

MC: Didn’t I say it was to return your umbrella...

Shaw: Ohhh...

He deliberately elongates his words, a doubtful expression flashing across his eyes.

MC: If you don’t believe me...

Before I finish speaking, Shaw suddenly steps on the nearby stairs, turning around to face me.

Shaw: I even thought you were here to look for this!

He whips out a key which has a rabbit doll attached to it. He waves it in his hand gently.

MC: Isn’t this...

I hastily lower my head to dig through my bag, then realise my keys are missing.

I reach out, wanting to take the key from him. Before I can say “thanks”, Shaw has already clasped the key in his palm.

Shaw: I picked this up on the bus. It belongs to me now.

MC: ...where does such odd logic come from!

Shaw: You want it? That’s not impossible. What have you prepared in exchange?

Hearing Shaw’s tone, I release a resigned sigh. After offering him a series of items in exchange, he still isn’t satisfied, and wrinkles his eyebrows.

MC: You don’t like this, and you’re not satisfied with that. Why don’t you suggest the item?

Shaw: Oi, give me your phone.

MC: What do you want?

Shaw: Why do you have so many questions?

After saying this, he points at my phone, slightly impatient.

Confused, I hand my phone over to him, and watch as his fingers rapidly tap a series of numbers. In the next second, his own phone ringtone sounds clearly.

Shaw: Done. You owe me. We’ll talk about this next time.

As he says this, he throws the keys to me with a flick of his wrist.

Seeing that he’s about to leave the exhibition house, I lower my head and look at the key in my hands. I ask:

MC: Why did you pick up this key just now?

Shaw pauses in his steps. Then, his lips curl upwards.

Shaw: Who knows... the look of you running over was even more interesting than I thought.

Standing in place, I think about his words while in a trance. Already at the door, Shaw suddenly turns around again.

Shaw: Also, regarding the last question you asked in the interview... come watch my band perform in Live House when you’re free. That’s all.

With these words, Shaw turns and leaves.

A fine curtain of rain interweaves with the doorway he vanished into, just like a flowing background.

And our interweaving... has just begun.

🌸 MOMENTS 🌸

Shaw: The keychain is even bigger than the key. What a bother.

MC: What kind of keychain wouldn’t be considered bothersome then?

Shaw: Why should I tell you?

Shaw: The keychain is even bigger than the key. What a bother.

MC: To thank you for picking up my keys, why don’t I treat you to a meall?

Shaw: It depends on what you plan to treat me with.

Shaw: The keychain is even bigger than the key. What a bother.

MC: You don’t find it cute?

Shaw: No.

Phone Call: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw

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ill-go-with-that-then · 5 years

Text

A NEW ERASERMIC AU I'LL NEVER WRITE!

Imagine Aizawa works at Buzzfeed, and gets the idea to write an article about how Twitch streaming is stupid and pointless (because he’s a video game snob.) He chooses Present Mic’s channel to watch at random, because he’s super popular, but Aizawa immediately goes from undercover reporter to absolute fan. No middle ground. Just “huh, okay i was wrong” and subscribes.

He tunes in to all the live streams, because Mic is very funny and also very good at video games, and it’s cool to watch him play. He has skills, his commentary is A+, and Aizawa develops a little crush. But it’s not a big deal!! Mic is a celeb, Aizawa knows they’ll never meet, it’s harmless.

Sometimes the chat for the stream gets assholes in it, as you’d expect. Mic can’t monitor the chat too much, but Aizawa has no problems telling jerks where to stick it. And once, after a particularly egregious incident where some moron said something crude about women in gaming and Aizawa ripped him a new asshole, Mic sends him a personal message thanking him and asking him if he wants to be a mod, which of course, he does. He doesn’t know how to reply - this is his big chance to talk to Mic!! So of course he just says “sure” - no further conversation.

Aizawa has, of course, zero personal details on his Twitch account. No info, no icon, his screen name is a random string of numbers, he’s a ghost. The Ron Swanson of video game enthusiasts.

So Aizawa is working at Buzzfeed, living his best life writing articles like “10 Video Game Themed Products You Can’t Live Without” because journalism is in shambles and he drinks to forget, and one day his editor is like “hey, we’re gonna do a feature on Twitch streamers. Everybody is gonna go sit and watch a stream in person and get the behind the scenes info. Here’s a list of people who agreed.” And PRESENT MIC IS ON THE LIST

One of his colleagues reaches for Mic’s info sheet, rolling his eyes and sighing. “I can’t believe these are considered celebrities. Have you ever heard of any of them?”

Aizawa practically slaps the paper out of his hand. “Present Mic is a consummate professional and his content is high-quality and entertaining. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it since it involves technology more current than a compact disc.”

The room goes silent. Nobody’s heard Aizawa say anything nice about... maybe anything? Ever? But his editor, Kayama, pounces immediately. “WELL if you like him so much, Aizawa, that can be your interview!!”

Aizawa panics. On the one hand, he wasn’t going to let anyone else take that assignment. But on the other hand, now he’s going to meet Mic IN PERSON. During a LIVE STREAM. Is he supposed to tell him he’s a fan? Is that tacky? Will his crush be obvious? What if Mic sucks in person?? This is a double edged sword.

He only gets more nervous on the day of the interview. He’s tempted to dress up a little, look his best. Mic is a good-looking guy after all, and he’s always well put together when he streams. And even though Aizawa knows, knows he really doesn’t have a chance, he still doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

BUT he also doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard. That’s not who he is, and dressing up would be admitting to himself that he DOES want something more than a simple interview, even if it’s as little as Mic’s good opinion or positive attention.

He debates too long. While he’s still thinking about it, the alarm on his phone goes off, alerting him that it’s time to leave. He’s still in his pink sweatpants and he hasn’t shaved, and he realizes, just at that moment, that he probably should have tried harder at least for the sake of professionalism. But it’s too late. He has to go.

Mic actually doesn’t live all that far away. Just a short train ride, less than 20 minutes, and Aizawa is standing in front of his nondescript apartment. It’s a little odd - Mic is a very popular streamer, theoretically with income to match, and his style seems flashy. Aizawa had expected something a little more over the top. But this place is simple. Storing that information away for later, he knocks.

“COMING!!” He hears from inside the apartment, followed by the thud of footsteps. Aizawa just has one moment to brace himself because this is it before the door opens and there he is. Present Mic himself, all smiles. “Come in, come in!! You’re from buzzfeed right? Wow, this is so exciting!!” Mic ushers him in the door, taking his jacket and hustling him into a tidy living room before Aizawa can even respond. And of course, when he finally gets himself together enough to say something, the first words out of his mouth are “You’re... tall.”

He wants to smack himself. Yes, Mic is taller than Aizawa had realized from the stream, even a little taller than Aizawa himself. But those are thinking words, not speaking words. Certainly not the first words you use to introduce yourself to your celebrity crush. But Aizawa, a champion moment-ruiner, has made his bed, and now he must cry in it.

But Mic just laughs. “Yeah,” he says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “I get that a lot. Sorry?”

“Don’t apologize,” Aizawa says immediately, then wonders if he is, in fact, under some sort of curse. “Shouta Aizawa,” he introduces himself.

“Hizashi Yamada, also known as Present Mic!” Yamada’s smile is friendly, like Aizawa hasn’t made an absolute fool of himself so far, and Aizawa has to look away from it. He glances around the room, which is tidy and clean, but cluttered with various objects that seem to have no connection to each other. There are books in a variety of languages, musical instruments, shelves of CDs, and an assortment of other things that have nothing to do with video games.

“Quite a collection you have,” Aizawa says, because it is, and because he’s curious.

“Yeah! I have too many hobbies but what can you do? Come on, I’m sure you’d rather see my workspace.” It’s not true, Aizawa has seen the office where Yamada streams before, and he’d much rather stay here and poke around, build up his mental picture about who Yamada is outside his Present Mic persona. But he’s not here for that. This is business.

But the streaming room is also not what Aizawa expects. Some things are familiar - the area visible to the camera is the same, set up and ready for tonight’s stream, but the rest of the room, the part that isn’t on screen, is PACKED. There’s a wobbly desk in the corner, covered in neatly stacked papers and binders labeled by month and year. The wall over the desk is a massive whiteboard filled with notes and ideas for upcoming streams. And there, in the lower right corner of the whiteboard, right where it would be even with Hizashi’s eyes as he sits at his desk, is a familiar string of numbers - his own Twitch username. And next to it is a little note - don’t forget. Good dude.

Aizawa sees his username and just - freezes. It hadn’t occurred to him that Mic thought of him at all outside of that one occasion he DM’d him, let alone that he considered Aizawa important enough not to forget. And the idea that Mic thinks he’s a “good dude” makes his face BURN in pleased embarrassment. He wants to say something but what? Is it weird? It’s weird, it’s too weird, and before he can think of how to do it, Mic is talking again.

“Okay, this is where the magic happens!! Actually, it’s more like weeks of frustration and repetition followed by 3-4 hours of intensely stressful streaming, but hey! People seem to like it!!” Aizawa wants to say something here - Mic is being a little too self-deprecating for his taste, but he stops himself. He can’t defend Mic’s honor to Mic himself - can he? The moment passes while he debates.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be on camera or not?” Mic says, tentatively.

“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” says Aizawa. “I’m more the behind the scenes type.”

“Totally, no problem!” Mic says, gesturing to his desk. “You can sit there, if that’s okay? The only other seat is by me.”

Aizawa looks at the chair, then back to the small couch where Mic will be streaming from. “I think I’ll have to be closer to get photos for the article, if that’s all right.”

“You’ll be on camera,” Mic bites his lip. “I mean, maybe i could re-angle it, but then the screen-“

“It’s fine,” Aizawa says. “Journalism is about hardship.”

Mic snorts, and Aizawa can’t keep a little smirk off his face, proud that he got a laugh.

The stream goes smoothly - Aizawa likes it even more like this, without the chat to distract him, and close enough to notice things he’s never seen before. Mic’s feet twitch when he’s focusing hard, and his socks have cats on them. It’s adorable. Aizawa takes no notes - he doesn’t really need to, he’s seen enough streams to write this article in his sleep, and anyway, it’s not like he’s going to forget a minute of this.

Afterwards, once they’ve signed off, Mic talks him through his post show routine, everything from calculating how much he made and comparing it to previous weeks in a spreadsheet to going over the chat. “Huh,” Mic’s eyebrows crease as he looks at the chat logs. “Things got a little out of hand tonight.”

“Oh?” Aizawa says, shuffling uncomfortably. He suspects he knows why that is.

“Yeah, one of my regular mods wasn’t on tonight. I hope he’s all right - it’s not like him to miss.”

“You have a lot of viewers,” Aizawa says, tentative now. “Do you know them all so well?”

Mic shrugs, embarrassed. “No, i wish I did! But this guy’s special, he’s really funny and he keeps all the trolls in line. I’d DM him to see if he’s okay but that’s weird, right? That’s weird. And anyway I tried to talk to him once before but he shot me down.”

“I didn’t-“ Aizawa says before he can stop himself. The curse is real. Mic stares at him, open mouthed, confused at first but then his eyes widen as he realizes what must have happened. Before he can say anything, Aizawa cuts him off. “Sorry. That i couldn’t mod tonight.” He mumbles, hand buried in his hair. He can’t meet Mic’s eyes anymore. “I’ll be back next week.”

Mic opens his mouth to speak, but Aizawa interrupts again, before he can. “And I didn’t - I didn’t shoot you down. I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me. Why would you?”

Mic blinks, and Aizawa isn’t sure what he’s going to say. Will he be mad? Aizawa kind of lied to him. Is he disappointed? Does Aizawa not look like he expected? Has he been too silent? Too unfriendly? Does Mic not want to get to know him anymore? But when Mic finally speaks, what comes out is

“I can’t believe you made me memorize that stupid fucking username, we’re picking you a new one right now.”

#erasermic #maizawa #my writing #my ramblings #I have no explanation for anything I do ever

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daydreaming-away-reality · 4 years

Text

Hearing Your Voice

Zen x Reader | ☁️ | 2.6k | Soulmate AU

You tapped your fingers on the desk, doing your best to stay quiet while in the study room. With the beautiful melody playing within your head, it was hard. Especially when the singer sounded like he had the voice of an angel.

Doing your best in trying to study, you couldn’t help but breaking into a smile and pause when you recognized a tune of the song.

I heard him sing this yesterday too.

Trying to study was hard. Not because the content was hard to grasp - no, you could have all the material down with a bit of reading and some flashcards - it was hard because you were always conflicted. Part of your brain would tell you school is important and as a university student, you had to work hard towards your future. The other part of your brain however, would be loudly screaming, hey, that song sounded familiar! We’ve heard that somewhere before, but where?!

Most of the time, you were fine. You would just study with the music playing in your head. There were moments when your heart would chime in and remind you, we’re still looking for our soulmate, (Y/N). Then studying was a challenge.

The song you could hear in your head? That was your soulmate singing. Even though you grew up hearing the voice of your soulmate singing, you were never able to find them.

Every few weeks, or months, your soulmate would have a couple of songs that he would be constantly singing. Kind of like the most popular songs of the season caught on loop by the radio stations. However, whatever songs your soulmate was singing was never these pop songs.

You were a lucky one, you knew that much.

You had friends who would be complaining about their soulmate’s choice in singing because it would be the overplayed pop songs. There was only so much one could take of the same song all the time after all.

On the other hand, shower singing stories were hilarious to hear about.

Moving back to your story...

Personally, you didn’t sing too much. Not unless you were certain no one but your soulmate was listening. Your soulmate probably heard you humming most of the time though. It was hard not to hum along to his beautiful singing.

Staring at your study notes, you shook your head.

This was going no where.

Just as you closed your notebook, someone tapped on your shoulder. Startling, you turned around and pulled down your - not plugged in - headphones.

“I had a feeling you weren’t studying,” Yoosung said, looking at you with an amused smile. “Listening to your soulmate again?”

You gave him your oops, you caught me smile. “Yeah. He’s always singing.”

Yoosung’s eyes darted around the room, then he leaned forward and asked, “You want to get out of here? Grab some food?”

You flashed him as thumbs up and packed up your stuff. Tailing after the blonde haired boy, you were greeted with actual sunlight for the first time in a few hours.

“It’s so bright out,” you whined, shading your eyes as they adjusted.

Yoosung laughed. “Vitamin D is good for you! You’re going to be a troll like in LOLOL if you don’t see the light of day, (Y/N).”

You huffed, faking indignation. “I am not a troll! I’ll show you how a troll would beat you up if you call me that again.”

The boy shook his head quickly. Although he was ranked 2nd in game, he didn’t want the risk of losing his loot by being beat up. He worked hard to earn those super rare weapons.

Way back during first year courses, you had met and became friends with Yoosung through LOLOL. You weren’t obsessed with the game as much as he was, but you did well enough to rank within top ten with a bit of effort. Nowadays, getting through your courses was your priority. LOLOL was a fun break though, when you found the odd break.

“That’s what I thought.”

“You still play LOLOL?”

“Not as much as you - but yeah.”

“We should team up sometime!”

You laughed. “Do you even study at all, Yoosung?”

“Sometimes!”

As the two of you stepped into the cafe near campus, Yoosung paused and turned to look at you.

“You said your soulmate is always singing right?” he asked.

You nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“Maybe he works in the music industry,” Yoosung mused. “Like, behind the scenes? As a producer?”

Hearing this, you paused and thought about it. Could that be a possibility?

“Maybe,” you murmured. “I’ll look into it.”

Yoosung gave you an encouraging smile. “You’ll find him one of these days, (Y/N). Don’t worry about it.”

You hoped Yoosung was right about this.

As you were walking back to your own apartment, a poster caught your eye.

Daydream: The Musical

Tickets now on sale!

The poster showed a shadowy figure surrounded by colourful nature and city scenes. Your eyes skimmed through the cast absentmindedly, as you didn’t recognize any names.

Starring: Julie Kim, Zen, Soobin Park...

Lingering in front of the poster, you decided that, it looked interesting. Pulling out your phone, you hastily took a picture so you could look further into the details of the musical later.

“Dinner,” you recalled suddenly. You needed to eat but you also needed to study still. Well, can’t study on an empty stomach. Deciding to grab something light to snack on now and throw together some leftovers later tonight, you went in search of the local bread stand in your neighborhood.

Your eyes lit up when you spotted the vendor.

Excitedly moving towards them, you missed nearly colliding with the tall man in a hat walking the same way. Stumbling, you felt a strong, steady hand on your back, helping you regain your balance.

“Oh, sorry,” you squeaked out. “And thank you!”

How did you miss this guy? He was pretty tall and stood out - his features were really handsome too. Could he be a celebrity or something? He definitely had the looks for it. You were definitely not staring.

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” he replied. “Go ahead, ladies first.”

“T-thank you!”

You stepped up in front of the stall, knowing exactly what you were going to get. Hearing the man’s footsteps behind you, you decided to thank the kind stranger from saving you from an embarrassing fall.

“Two goldfish bread - separately wrapped, please!”

“Coming right up! Done classes for the day?” the owner asked.

You bobbed your head as you handed over the payment. “Yeah. Not done studying though.”

“Ah, must be rough. Good luck on that.”

“Thank you,” you chimed back. as you accepted the bread. Turning around, you held out one bag for the handsome stranger behind you. “And thank you for saving me from tripping earlier.”

“No, no, I couldn’t -”

“I insist!”

He accepted with a grateful smile. You swear, he sparkled in the light of the sunset.

“Thank you then.”

You returned his smile with your own before heading off.

Time to prepare for the upcoming exam.

Your week had flew by rather quickly. With exams and some other assignments being all crammed into such a short amount of time made you feel like you lost a few years on your life.

Sometimes you wondered why anyone would choose to suffer.

Yet, here you were. And all you had to do was attend post secondary.

Your soulmate seemed to be busy all week as well. The sound of his voice singing the same melodies over and over were in the back of your head the entire time. He had such a soothing voice that you were certain that he was the one who was keeping you sane.

Finally gifted with free time, you decided to make the most of it.

Browsing around on your phone, the picture of the musical poster caught your eye once more. Noticing the showings aligned with your newfound freedom, you decided - why not?

Searching up the link for the theater, you looked around the website and then bought a ticket.

A sense of excitement and anticipation filled you. It’s been a while since you did anything fun. This would be a worthwhile experience.

Settling down into your seat at the theater, you couldn’t help but glance around. The place was relatively busy despite it being a weekday evening. Looking over the pamphlet that was given to you at the entrance, all the cast and crew were listed.

Your eyes skimmed over it, not recognizing any of the names except for the few you’ve seen on the promotional poster. Perhaps it would take a more theater experience before you would become familiar with any of them.

The lights began to dim and the chatter died down as music became to play. Ensuring your phone was silent, you made yourself comfortable. The moment the musical started, you were swept away in awe of the performance.

Experiencing a musical live felt different from watching a movie. It was so much more... uplifting. You were absolutely enchanted by the musical.

When the male lead became to sing his part however, that was when things felt strange to you. It felt like you were hearing an echo of their singing. None of the other actors and actresses had that effect. It took a moment, but then it dawned on you. You’ve heard this before, nights before.

It was your soulmate.

They must be singing this song too.

But when every note, pitch and pause matched the ones on stage, you had your suspicions.

After intently watching the male lead sing though, you soon drew to a new conclusion.

That was your soulmate on stage.

You continued to watch in silent surprise as your soulmate danced and sung their way across the stage. His red eyes had swept over you briefly in passing, but you could see the passion blazing. It was clear he loved his career.

Once the musical ended with thunderous applause, you immediately pulled out your phone to do some research. Since you had chosen a seat near the middle front, you knew it would take a while before you’d be able to get out.

Doing a search for ‘Zen’, with the words ‘musical actor’ hastily typed afterwards, you soon found a plethora of information about your soulmate. Zen had a dedicated fan base that loved his every production - there was even a section about his unknown soulmate. An interview caught your eye. It was dated for a few months back, but a quote from your soulmate made you pause.

“I’m really focused on my career right now - it took a lot of work to get to where I am today, but I’m happy to be here.”

He was good looking, hard working and dedicated. You knew your soulmate would be perfect, but you never expected this. Zen was basically the ideal guy.

Seeing the theater emptying out, you stood and walked out.

Sure, you had been super excited to meet your soulmate after spending late nights listening to singing, but after seeing this article, you had a feeling that he might need more time.

Zen was a busy person with a lot going on in his life. With how popular he was now, you didn’t was to disrupt anything at the moment. You would give him the opportunity to seek you out when he was ready.

Zen had nearly faltered in his singing the first time when he had heard his soulmate humming along the tune he was singing. Listening to the tune and timing of the song, they were definitely doing it alongside with him.

He remembered his eyes searching the audience hopefully. Wondering who might his soulmate be. That first night... he wasn’t able to identify her.

Nor the second, third or fourth.

When he had heard her humming the second time he was performing, he was certain that his soulmate was in the audience and made the effort to come see him perform. She must have known who he was.

Zen had lingered around after shows, hoping to see his soulmate. Hoping that she would reach out to introduce herself and he could become her knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet. It never happened though.

Regardless, it made him happy to hear her humming alongside him when he performed. She was supporting him.

He knew he was a busy person. Perhaps his soulmate knew that and kept her distance. What she didn’t know though, was Zen was dying to meet her.

He always wanted to make the effort to go find her, but never had much to go off on. His soulmate was a rare singer, so he never knew where to start.

Now that he knew though, he was constantly searching.

He noticed someone over the past few times with (H/C) hair that sat near the middle of the theater. The girl’s smile seemed to brighten when he showed up on stage. It was possible that she was another one of his fans, but at the last showing, she had tried very hard to step out of room quietly and his soulmate had stopped her soft humming at that moment too.

Zen felt certain about this.

She had to be the one.

Having finished another showing for the day, Zen tried to slip out quickly to catch up to his soulmate. Making sure not to be rude, he thanked his co-stars, staff and director before taking off. She tended to linger around a little longer, being almost the last person out. There was a chance Zen could catch up to her and he was going to take it.

Catching a glimpse of (H/C) hair, he instinctively moved towards it.

The figure seemed to have sensed him coming, because they turned around and (E/C) eyes met his.

Stopping only a few feet away from her, Zen could see the glimmer and recognition in her eyes as she looked up in awe at the musical actor.

“Great performance again tonight,” you said softly.

Finally hearing your voice in real life washed away any doubts Zen might have had.

It was you.

“Thank you,” he breathed out. He could feel his heart pounding with excitement. “It’s... really you.”

Seeing how lost for words he was, you decided to speak up.

“Hyun Ryu, right?” you asked. When he nodded, you broke into a smile. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N). Nice to finally meet you, soulmate.”

The biggest smile broke out on his face as he engulfed you into a hug. His tall stature didn’t bother him as he nuzzled into your neck. While you should have been startled, you weren’t. Knowing this was your soulmate, you felt safe being held in his arms. You relaxed and returned his hug.

“(Y/N)... I’ve been waiting for you,” Zen murmured. He pulled back a bit to look at you. “I want to get to know you better. Would you like to grab something to eat together?”

“Sure!”

“Okay, I know this great goldfish bread place -”

The two of you stopped, a distant memory resurfacing. Zen grinned fondly at you.

“ - I’ll treat you this time, though, princess.”

With all the lost time between the two of you, finally being together felt natural. Like finding an old friend and being able to catch up without any awkward moments.

Your soulmate was your perfect match and with Zen you knew that you couldn’t be happier. Just as much as you loved to listen to him inside your head, hearing his voice in real life and getting to be by his side made life all the more wonderful.

The two of you finally found you happily ever after.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger imagine #zen imagine #zen imagines #zen x reader #zen #hyun ryu #x reader #reader insert #imagine #imagines #hearing your voice

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assembledherethevolunteers · 4 years

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Future Management Chapter 3

A/N: Hi again! Sorry this took so long. It’s been a crazy week. I hope you guys are still enjoying this (and thank you to everyone for the love of my last chapter)! Please let me know what you think of this next part!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Ben Hardy had been together for the better part of a decade. After hitting a rough patch, the two of you decide to end things. However, one small surprise keeps you two connected more than you thought.

Warnings: Cursing, angst (I swear it’ll get better), fighting (verbal)

Catch Up: Prologue (https://assembledherethevolunteers.tumblr.com/post/188795655663/future-management) Chapter 1 (https://assembledherethevolunteers.tumblr.com/post/188846514968/future-management-chapter-1) Chapter 2 (https://assembledherethevolunteers.tumblr.com/post/188923255568/future-management-chapter-2)

Taglist: @lovebirdy93 @jonesyaddiction @im-an-adult-ish @taylorroger-s @amy-brooklyn99 @springholland @stassaurus @hahaboop @tcnystqks @bloatedandlonly @doctorwhatwhenandwhere If I missed you I’m sorry! Please let me know if you want to be added.

The next morning, Ben and Eliza came with you to the recording.

Ben had made breakfast, but barely talked to you outside of something for Eliza. You were wondering how him seeing Jackson again would go if he was still this mad at you, even though he had no right to be mad. Mostly because you weren’t actually dating Jackson, but also because, just like you had to remind yourself, the two of you weren’t together anymore.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Jackson smiled at you in the studio.

“Hi, Mr. Jack!” Eliza waved from Ben’s arms behind you.

“Well, hi there, Miss Eliza. How are you doing today, darlin?”

You grinned at her but noticed that Ben’s jaw had tightened.

“Good! Mummy said we can go home and play princesses after dis!”

“Well that should be a whole lotta fun, huh?”

Eliza giggled and shook her head yes. You watched as Ben moved his arms so that Eliza was even closer to him.

“Y/N? Jackson?” A woman with a headset asked.

“Yes?” You both replied.

“Can you follow me? We’ll get you in hair and makeup.”

“Alright,” you turned to Ben and Eliza. “Mommy and Mr. Jack have to go with her, but you and Daddy can…”

“Oh, Jaz?” The woman said to another. She stopped and looked at the group. “Can you take these two to Y/N’s dressing room?”

You saw this ‘Jaz’ woman look Ben up and down and then smile. You nearly saw red.

“I sure can, follow me, you two.”

You gave Eliza a kiss on her cheek. “Mommy will see you soon, okay?”

“Okay! Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mr. Jack!” Eliza waved at both of you and then Jaz led them away.

“She’s really cute,” Jack told you as you followed the woman.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Ben doesn’t seem to like me much,” Jackson said with a dry chuckle.

“It um…takes him a bit to warm up to people. He’s really a good guy. A great father.” You replied as you walked into the hair and makeup area.

Jackson just hummed noncommittally and sat down in one of the chairs. The two of you spoke with the cosmetologists as they fixed your makeup and hair.

The interview was going well. You and Jackson talked about the movie and how it was working together. The two of you had always gotten along easily. It made it easy to work with and do all these interviews.

You were about to wrap up when one of the hosts brought it up. It wasn’t really off limits, but it still kind of shook you when somebody brought it up.

“Now, Y/N, how is it being back in London? You used to live here, yeah?”

You fidgeted with your hair for just a second, a nervous gesture, before fixing a smile on your face.

“I did, yeah. I love being here! It’s so different from New York, but at the same time it’s still that go go go of a big city. And it’s that same modern feel and yet you know how much history has happened here as well. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s very true,” the female host, Holly nodded. “You sometimes forget how historic this city is.”

You could tell she was trying to hint to her cohost not to bring it up again. Thankfully, he picked up on it.

“It is, indeed, a beautiful city. Now, back to the film.”

You and Jackson finished the interview mentioning a part of the book that you wish could’ve been in the movie.

“Not to give too much away, but there’s this scene towards the end of the novel, in the last couple chapters I think?, and we just couldn’t make it work. It was written so well on the page and we tried four or five different ways to get it perfect, but we just couldn’t, so we had to scrap it. Maybe that will be an extra on the Blu-Ray or something.”

“I remember that day,” Jackson laughed. “Everybody was trying to get it exactly like it was on the page. Maybe if we had just taken a little more creative license it would’ve worked better, but like Y/N said, it was so beautiful on the page that we wanted to do it justice.”

“Well now we need to know what it is!”

You looked at Jackson and then gestured for him to continue.

“Oh great, make me do it,” Jackson nudged you with his arm. You laughed and pushed him back, letting your hand linger for maybe just a beat too long. “Again, we don’t want to give too much away, and it’s not like it’s the climax of the film, but Y/N’s character and mine are in their home, and she has a dream. I’ll leave it at that.”

“Oooh I remember that part!” The Holly’s voice rose in excitement. “I loved reading that!”

“Me too!” You matched her tone. “And we tried, we really did, it just didn’t work with the story we were working on and everybody agreed to let it go because the same thing could be conveyed with a conversation between our characters,” you shrugged and then looked to the audience. “If you’re one of those people that doesn’t read the book because a movie is coming out, may I suggest breaking that rule just this once? That scene itself is worth it.”

The other three on the set vocally agreed with you.

“Well we can’t wait to see the film, it sounds amazing and you two are just great. If your chemistry here carried on set, I think we’re in for something great!” Holly smiled at both of you and then turned to a camera.

“’See You Around’ comes out next Friday! Stay tuned and Meghan May will be showing you how to get rid of those pesky earwigs in your garden.”

The audience applauded and then the same woman that showed you and Jackson hair and makeup appeared.

“And we’re clear!”

“Thank you both, so much,” you offered your hand to the hosts. They both took and shook it in turn.

You and Jackson came off set and Eliza ran right up to you and hugged your leg.

“Good job, Mummy!”

You bent down, trying to keep your balance in your heels.

“Thank you, Lovebug! Did you have fun watching Mommy?”

Eliza nodded and then looked up at Jackson. “You did good too, Mr. Jack.”

“Thank you, Miss Eliza.”

“Well, we should probably get to lunch. Eliza will need her nap soon,” Ben’s voice came from a few yards away, a little too loud.

“Daddy! Can Mr. Jack come over to lunch?”

Jackson looked over at Ben and you noticed Ben’s eyes harden.

“I don’t think so, Birdie.”

Eliza pouted and looked at you.

“Mummy?”

You ran your hand through her hair. You opened your mouth to answer, but you were cut off.

“You know what, Miss Eliza?” Jackson drew Eliza’s attention. “I’ve actually got plans for lunch, but I’ll be sure to see you one more time before I leave.”

Eliza was still pouting but nodded.

“Okay, Mr. Jack.”

You stood up and gave Jack a hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll see you at the premiere tomorrow night?”

“Sure will,” Jackson fixed you with a huge smile. He smiled down at Eliza. “I’ll see you soon, Miss Eliza.”

“Bye, Mr. Jack!” Eliza hugged his legs before moving back to you.

You bent down and picked her up. She played with your necklace, already over the crushing disappointment.

“I’ll see you later,” Jackson said again. He looked to Ben. “Nice to see you again, Ben.”

Ben just waved before Jackson left.

You shot a glare at Ben before you started making your way out as well. You and Ben were silent, listening to Eliza talk about one of the nice people that had given her a lollipop (“But Daddy said I can’t have it until lunch”).

You buckled Eliza into her car seat and then got into the car, still ignoring Ben. Thank God Eliza kept talking because the tension in the front of the car was palpable.

Lunch wasn’t much better. You made Eliza a turkey sandwich, along with fruit snacks and carrot sticks. You and Ben avoided each other as much as possible. Once Eliza was done eating, Ben put her down for her nap.

You thought about pouring yourself some wine but decided alcohol wouldn’t help anything. Ben walked back down the stairs and then set his hands on the counter. You watched him for a moment.

“I don’t like him.”

You rolled your eyes and folded your arms across your chest.

“Why? What has he done to you?”

Ben looked at you for a long moment. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“Ben!” You hissed, trying not to raise your voice for fear of waking Eliza.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Why does it matter? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not married anymore.”

Ben opened his mouth a couple times before inhaling sharply through his nose.

“I know, I just would like to know who is around MY daughter.”

You stared at Ben, dumbfounded.

“First of all, she’s OUR daughter. Second of all, you’re kidding, right?”

“Look, if she gets attached to ‘Mr. Jack’ and he ends up being a bad guy…”

“Ben, I’m not dating Jack!” You were getting angry. Did he honestly think that you would do ANYTHING to hurt Eliza? That you would let people that would hurt her even be able to LOOK at her?

That made Ben take a moment back and then he cleared his throat.

“I…I mean, he’s still around her.”

“Yeah! And so are Gwil and Joe and Luc…”

“They’re different!”

“Why?! Because YOU know them?! Last I checked, they were also your coworkers before they were friends and…”

“So you’re comparing my best friends to some guy that you just flirt with and…”

“WE WERE IN A MOVIE TOGETHER!” You hated yourself for yelling, but you couldn’t stop it. “YOU KNOW HOW THOSE INTERVIEWS GO! THEY WANT TO SEE YOU GET ALONG WITH YOUR COSTARS!” You were fuming. He was mad because you got along with your coworker? How dare he use Eliza as an excuse for not liking somebody!

“WELL YOU PLAYED IT REALLY FUCKING WELL! HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH HIM OR NOT?!”

“MAYBE TAKE MY GODDAMN WORD FOR IT?! OR NOT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT!”

“HOW AM I NOT SUPPOSED TO WORRY ABOUT IT!?”

“BECAUSE IT’S NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS, THAT’S HOW! WHY THE FUCK DO YOU CARE IF HE AND I ARE SLEEPING TOGETHER?!”

“BECAUSE I…!”

“Mummy? Daddy?” You and Ben turned toward Eliza. She was holding her stuffed ladybug close to her face as she stood at the doorway to the kitchen. She looked about ready to start sobbing.

“Oh Birdie, what are you doing awake?” Ben’s voice softened, even though his chest still heaved. He walked over and picked up Eliza. You were quickly behind her, rubbing her back.

“I h…heard you and Mummy yelling,” Eliza’s voice shook, full of tears.

“Oh Lovebug, Mommy and Daddy are sorry,” you cooed, continuing to rub circles on her back. “We um…you know how Mommy and Daddy play pretend?” You asked her. That was how you explained what you and Ben did. It was the easiest explanation for a three-year-old.

Eliza nodded, tears still threatening to fall.

“Well, that’s all we were doing. Playing pretend.”

“You both said bad words,” Eliza whispered, almost as if she spoke louder she would break whatever tentative peace you and Ben had reached.

Ben pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“We did, and we’re sorry, love,” Ben rocked with a Eliza a few moments. Once she seemed to be calmed down, he asked “Do you want to go upstairs and get some more sleep?”

Eliza shook her head, burying her face in the crook of Ben’s neck.

“How about we watch ‘The Princess and the Frog’ and cuddle on the couch?” You offered. The Princess and the Frog was her favorite movie and you knew it could soothe her.

She peeked over at you.

“Can Daddy cuddle too?”

You looked at Ben and then back to Eliza. Why did she have to look so much like him? You tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“Of course, sweetie. Why don’t you and Daddy get comfy and…”

“No, here,” Ben slid Eliza into your arms. She buried herself deeper in your arms. You and Ben exchanged a look. “You and Mummy can get comfy and I’ll get everything ready.” Ben kissed Eliza’s nose and led you to the living room. You and Eliza started making a nest of blankets and pillows as Ben got the TV and Blu-Ray player ready.

“Mummy?” Eliza asked as you got her wrapped in a blanket.

“Yes, honey?”

Eliza was suddenly shy, which was something she never was. You rubbed her back again. “What’s the matter, Liza?”

She shook her head as Ben came over with the remote.

“Ready, lovies?”

You ignored the term of endearment as you burrowed yourself deeper into the hoard of blankets and wrapped your arms around Eliza. Ben pressed play and then placed one arm on top of yours and pulling Eliza (and you) closer to his chest.

If the two of you had still been married, this could’ve been how you spent the last three years. Cuddling on the couch, Eliza between you, watching Disney movies while the dreary English afternoon went by. Maybe after she was asleep, Ben would take her upstairs and then when he came back downstairs, the two of you would snuggle, just the two of you, maybe finish the movie if it wasn’t over yet.

Eliza was singing along to the songs, and you noticed Ben was keeping the beat with his thumb near your elbow. You hated how…normal this all seemed.

You hated that you ached for this.

Eliza giggled at the fireflies in the movie started up their song. The last thing you remembered was Ray and all his family singing “Gonna Take You There” and the feeling of Ben gently rubbing your arm.

Ben watched as your eyes fluttered closed. He’d missed that sight. He’s missed almost everything about you. Maybe that’s why it had been easier to pick a fight with you about Jackson. If he thought about the bad things, he wouldn’t beg you take him back. He felt awful for taking out his frustration on somebody who honestly seemed like a good guy and had been nothing but nice to Eliza (and you, as much as it annoyed him).

And poor Eliza. No child should have to hear their parents argue like that, whether they were together or not. Ben glanced at her. She was trying so hard to stay awake, but the song was a soft love song and it was lulling her to sleep.

“Get some sleep, Birdie,” Ben placed a kiss in her hair.

“No, Daddy,” Eliza muttered, but her eyes were already closed.

You’d always said that Eliza looked more like him, and maybe she did, but she acted just like you. She was sweet, and smart, and warm. She had her stubborn side too, even at three. It pained him when he saw her act like you, or when she used American terms for something because it just reminded him that much more of you. And when she talked about you, the way her face lit up when she saw you, it just made him miss you that much more.

Ben watched the rest of the movie, even though he basically knew it by heart.

“Because Tiana, she is my Evangeline.”

Ben looked over at you and sighed.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #rami malek #lucy boynton #queen #bohemian rhapsody #boh rhap #krissys writings #fan fic writing #reader insert #future management

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cutie1365 · 5 years

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A Kid from Queens Part 11

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: language, lmk if I should add anything

A/N: I’ve removed a lot of people from my taglists for being inactive, to be on it and stay on it you must like my posts, and comment or reblog. There’s a google form in my bio to request to be added.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

A bright stage light blinded you as you shifted back behind the curtain. A production assistant was clipping a microphone onto your dress that was so tight they’d actually made you wear spanx. Fucking spanx. You were a healthy 18 year old girl, wearing Spanx. You felt like you couldn’t breathe.

Your gaze shifted to the other side of the stage where you saw your publicist-turned-manager, Linda, give you a thumbs up and a cheery smile. You flashed her a toothy smile right back to reassure her. She had been preparing you for this all week, and you were ready. You were used to meetings with important people, investors, and shareholders; Pepper taught you well, you knew what you were doing.

“Ok people! Live in five... four...” A jaunty producer bellowed from behind the cameras.

You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes and reminding yourself why you were here. When you opened them, you put on your mask: a bright smile, wide eyes, and shoulders back. You were no longer the girl who just last week was crying in a conference room over a boy. No, for the next hour you were Y/N Stark: a girl who definitely had her shit together, sporting a nearly $5,000 Oscar de la Renta dress with some Jimmy Choos to match.

The audience roared as the large red “Applause” sign above the stage lit up.

“Thank you! Thank you for joining us and welcome to all of you at home tuning into our live broadcast of The Tonight Show!” The spirited host greeted the audience, he spoke again once their cheers died down.

“Tonight we have a very special guest. She’s a partner of Stark Industries. She’s the daughter of Iron Man! Give it up for Y/N Stark!” His voice grew more and more excited with each description.

Was that really all you boiled down to? ‘The daughter of Iron Man’? Would you ever be able to be your own person? All your accomplishments, and still, the most interesting thing about you was your paternity.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Unbeknownst to you, thirty minutes away in Queens, May Parker was flipping channels as her nephew ate dinner. Landing on channel 6, she recognized a familiar face.

“Peter, isn’t that your little friend?” She asked excitedly, pointing to the TV. He lazily draws his attention to the screen before he did a double take. Oh God, she looked amazing. He thought.

“We’re not really friends May, she’s just my boss’ daughter.” Peter spoke, hoping she’d change the subject, or the channel.

“Wow, look at that dress! She looks like a million bucks!” May smiled, in awe.

“Try a billion.” Peter muttered, thankful that May didn’t have super-hearing like him. Normally at this time, he’d be getting ready to go out for patrols, but he was curious. Why were you on live TV? You didn’t do interviews. So tonight, he decided to take his place next to May and watch, because honestly - he missed you. If this was his chance so see your smile and hear your laugh, then patrols could wait an hour.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Thank you for having me.” You nodded politely as you adjusted in your chair.

“Well it’s not everyday I have superhero DNA seated across from me.” The host joked, and you laughed politely, mentally regretting this already.

“What can I say? It’s in my blood.” You shrugged, the audience roared as the neon sign flashed. Your interviewer joining in, though you could tell it was fake.

“Yikes that was bad wasn’t it, guess I’ll leave the jokes to you.” You declared with a smile.

“I guess out of all those PhDs you have, none of them translate to being able to come up with a decent punchline.” He retorted, playfully.

“Oh certainly not, probably the opposite considering they’re in Electrical Engineering and Ethical Philosophy.” You laughed.

“Which is incredible by the way! You’re 18 and you have two PhDs. How’d you do it?” What an original question. You thought and mentally rolled your eyes.

“A lot of hard work and dedication. And, sure, I’m not oblivious to the tremendous amount of privilege that I have. Sometimes it’s about the right opportunities, and those aren’t always fair. I’m hoping one day to change that.” You spoke honestly, gaining a round of applause from the audience.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” He asked, baiting you. He knew why you were here and what he was supposed to steer the conversation towards.

“Well, systematic change doesn’t happen overnight. But as a start, we want to be able to give young people interested in science, technology and engineering a foot in the door. We’re opening up a Stark Internship program, for kids across the country to come work with us and learn from us. Anyone is welcome to apply. There are more details on our website.” You looked directly into Camera One. You felt as if you were reading from a script, you’ve practiced this so much.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Peter, isn’t that what you do?” May asked, turning to her nephew.

“Kinda, Mr. Stark said they were expanding nationwide, wanna help out more people ya know.” He lied, in reality he had no clue what you were doing. A heads up would have been nice, but it was helpful that his alibi was now legitimized.

“I like her.” May said with a soft smile, focusing back on the screen.

“What?” Peter asked, taken aback.

“I like her,” May repeated, “She recognizes her privilege and she’s giving back. Plus her shoes are to die for.”

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“That’s amazing. Does that include scholarship opportunities?” Your host inquired, just as planned.

“Of course! We already offer a few scholarships, there’s even one named after Dad and I at MIT, but we will be expanding greatly. One hundred of the applicants will receive a $50,000 scholarship, so there’s certainly no reason not to apply.” You laughed.

“You’re going to be a busy girl, doing all those interviews.” He remarked. You hated the way he called you girl. You faked a laugh before responding.

“Oh, I know, but I think it’s important for me to really have an intimate role in the selection, you want to build those personal connections. Ya know?” You nodded.

“Those are important, sure. Now, Y/N, it’s no secret that you’ve also been running Stark Industries’ Philanthropy, so what’s next on the agenda for you personally?” He asked, turning the conversation... this wasn’t planned.

“Um, sure we have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies here at Stark Industries, so we’re constantly making pretty large donations to a number of deserving causes. If you’re referring to large scale philanthropic galas then the NYC Hope Gala is coming up, which targets childhood cancer research and awareness. And of course, The Met Gala is coming up next month.” You nodded. What was he playing at here?

“And can we expect you to attend?” Something about his demeanor was changing, and you cursed yourself for agreeing to do this on live TV.

“Haven’t missed it in four years so there’s a good chance.” You assured him with a smile.

“Are you nervous to attend a public event considering what that took place at the last one?” You felt like you had just been punched in the gut, and you hoped that didn’t translate onto your face. He really was going there, and you had a feeling you knew where this was heading.

“I believe that when you live in fear, the people that orchestrated these terrible things win. So I’m not going to let that happen.” Your mind was reeling trying to figure out his next move, and what your response would be. Should you keep talking to fill the time until commercial break, in an attempt to limit whatever might be coming next? You looked at the monitor, 5 minutes until commercial, shit. A lot can happen in 5 minutes.

“When footage of the attack came out, I think it’s fair to say that the world was shocked.” There were random voices of agreement coming from the audience.

“About?” You asked, surely he wasn’t bringing this up. Your heart began to beat faster.

“I don’t think anyone expected you to stand up and fight the way you did, what prompted you to do that.” Ok this is your chance, stall. You thought.

“I- I suppose it was a spur of the moment, fight or flight sort of thing. In times of panic everyone reacts differently. I have basic self defense and martial arts training and some Stark tech, that’s about it. No crazy powers or anything. Someone once told me that if you have the ability to stop the bad things from happening, and you don’t, then they happen because of you. I knew that I could do something, so I did.” You spoke slowly, hoping to come off as sincere and thoughtful, though you were really just killing time.

“And paid the price.”

“I didn’t say it was easy. But some broken ribs are a small price to pay for saving some lives.” You tried to convince him.

“And how has it affected your relationship with the Mayor’s son, the reason you were at the gala that night?” Shit.

“I think it’s normal that trauma and stress can put a strain on a relationship, but if you’re both willing to communicate and work through it then there’s no reason it should have a negative affect.” You were immediately reminded of your interaction with Thomas last week.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Let's be honest, you were using me the entire time.” You said calmly, shouldn’t you be angry?

“Well not the entire time.” He answered with a smirk, dropping it when he noticed you were not amused.

“Thomas.” You spoke seriously, with a brow raised.

“Ok fine, like 95% of the time,” He admitted, dropping his playful tone once more, “Why are you here Y/N?”

“Because it's my turn to use you.” You stated simply, mimicking his smirk.

“What?” His eyes grew wide.

“The public needs to keep thinking were the perfect happy couple.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked, shaking his head.

“I have my reasons and you have yours.” You answered cryptically.

You weren’t surprised when he agreed, his father’s poll numbers had been dropping significantly. He wanted to get back in his father’s good graces. You were going to use this opportunity to look into the family, and the possible weapons dealings Danny Rand had warned you about. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, they say.

Plus, it gave you a good alibi to move the attention off of Peter, well, Spider-Man.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“So you’re still together, despite the rumors that you’ve split?” Your interviewer pried.

“We are still together, and doing quite well, though I appreciate your concern.” Your reply was confident, and just cocky enough to get a laugh from the audience.

“How did he react to the rumors about a midnight tryst between you and Spider-Man?” He was enjoying this, and to top it all off, blasted that damn photograph on the screen, just in case the world had forgotten.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Peter choked on his water, causing May to worryingly ask him if he’s alright. He attempts to reassure her, and silence her to hear your response.

You laughed before answering.

“Well I’d hardly consider it a midnight tryst, considering this picture was taken at 7:30. Plus Thomas was over at the time so it would be pretty hard for him to believe there was any ‘trysting’ going on.” You lied. Peter listened more intently as the interview was slowly devolving into an interrogation.

“So are you denying that you know Spider-Man?” The interviewer pressed, his tone near threatening.

“I’ve met the guy once,” Peter saw you shrug, “He saved my life, I thanked him. I’d hardly consider that knowing someone.”

It was in that moment Peter realized why you were doing all of this. You were trying to protect him, to shift the story. You wanted to get the attention off of him, and by doing that, shifted it all onto you. You were taking the fall, and once this blows over you can’t turn back. You were going to have to keep this up, this media persona. That meant more TV appearances, more interviews, more parties and galas. Becoming the exact person you didn’t want to be. Putting aside your work and research, for him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“When we come back Y/N Stark is going to answer your questions you sent in on Twitter!” He pointed his note cards to the camera with a smile.

The curtain closed as you cut to commercial break. Your smile dropped and your mask melted away.

Your publicist Linda ran on stage yelling at the host.

“What the hell was that? We told you the attack was off limits!” She scolded him, you almost thought she’d threaten to sue. You’d never seen her this worked up before.

“It’s what people care about, it’s what they want to know! No one cares about how much money you donate to some kids.” He argued, you shook your head at how heartless he was.

You stormed over to the side of the stage, you could hear Linda’s heels behind you.

“Y/N-“ She spoke once she caught up to you, you whipped around to face her.

“This is why I didn’t want to do this bullshit! I’m out here getting interrogated! What’s he gonna ask about next, huh? The incident? The fucking Accords? Jesus!” You ranted, flailing your arms about.

”Back in 10.” A stagehand informed the two of you.

“Listen, I didn’t know he was going to do that ok. But now, you’re going to get your butt back in the chair and answer their silly questions from Twitter and you’re done, ok?” She pushed you back onto the stage, you quickly took your seat as the curtain separating you and the audience was pulled open and you were back live.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a painful 15 minutes of mind numbing questions like “Who’s your favorite Avenger?” and “F Marry Kill- Thor, Captain America, and Iron Man” (which you had declined to answer, that was your dad for Christ sake), you were finally making your way back to the car. Linda was giving you instructions in preparations for your day tomorrow.

“Ok, we’ve got the Vogue interview tomorrow morning, then Elle in the afternoon so I’ll send hair and makeup over around 5:45AM, you’ll have to be up and ready. Oh, but don’t eat anything you’ll want to look nice in your dress tomorrow.” You gave Linda a side eye and eye roll when her last words came out of her mouth. You were certainly not starving yourself. If you wanted to eat, you were going to eat, and God have mercy on anyone who got in your way.

Once you returned to the quiet emptiness of your apartment, you immediately slipped out of your dress and into yoga pants and a sports bra.

You began wrapping your knuckles, and attacking the punching bag - a little coping mechanism Cap had taught you. You were furious about how the interview went.

You had doubts that people would ever stop asking about Peter, and if any of this was worth it.

Little did you know, the friendly neighborhood Spiderling was sitting on your roof, after peering in through the window and seeing your assault on the bag.

He was curious about how you were doing. You had looked so happy and put together- but was that just a brave face and a dress? He realized now it was just a mask.

When he glanced once more, he found you in the kitchen, unwrapping your bleeding knuckles and downing a shot... and then another. You looked miserable, and exhausted.

He wanted to talk to you, but he didn’t want to make things worse. He was about to leave when he noticed you pulled out your phone and open the call app.

Your finger hovered over his name and he raised an eyebrow. You had an internal struggle over whether or not to call him, instead you set the phone down and groaned, sliding it across the counter.

“F.R.I. can you set an alarm for 5AM?” You asked, though you wished you didn’t have to.

“Sure can boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied.

You slipped a robe over your athletic wear and headed onto your balcony. You leaned on the edge, and looked out onto the moonlit park with a sigh. Dropping your head to your hands once more, and gently rubbing your temples.

Leaning back up onto your elbows, you took in a deep breath.

“I know you’re there Peter.” You spoke softly, turning your head slightly but keeping your body facing out over the ledge.

And your next action surprised both of you: you invited him in.

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

Taglist in the reblog.

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gstdaisuki · 4 years

Text

A Talk with Nathan McCree

(this is a followup to my video on Nathan’s work, which you should watch(!), and a mirror of the Patreon post)

Nathan McCree is well-known for his work on Tomb Raider. If you go digging, you’ll find he’s been interviewed about the series several times. However, he’s done quite a lot more. I’d like to fill in some of the gaps. Below are snippets from my chat with Nathan about music on the Megadrive, what it’s like to work within limitations, and music in the future.

---

GST: Skeleton Krew's music is an oddity on the Megadrive. there's nothing else quite like it. I saw you mention that the soundscape was inspired by the graphics, which makes sense --they compliment each other beautifully. I want to ask what other influences you had in mind, if any. How much of the soundtrack was just created by just pushing strange sounds out of your tools?

NM: It's very difficult to say exactly where inspiration comes from. Mostly I am inspired by the kit I am using and the sounds they make, so in this case it was the sounds I was creating on the Yamaha chip inside the Megadrive. But musically at the time I was listening to a lot of psychedelic electronic bands like Ozric Tentacles, The Orb and lots of dance/trance/house music of the era.

GST: Now that you mention Ozric Tentacles, the arp sequences in Clockdrops have a similar feel to some of the tracks in Skeleton Krew. It's kind of striking, though I think the direction you went in is actually better realized because you seem to work so well within the FM on the Megadrive. (Hopefully the musical comparison isn't too offensive!)

NM: No I'm not offended by the comparison at all. I did learn a lot about synth patterns and textures from Ozric Tentacles, but again, without copying, I took what I learned and went in my own direction with it. It's important to always have a picture or an emotion of the project you are working on as this helps construct the music in a way which fits the mood of the product and as a result should gel the visuals and the animations together. The music in effect, acts as a kind of glue for the project which holds it all together.

GST: On the opposite end of the oddity spectrum, Astérix and the Power of the Gods for the Megadrive features nothing but classical songs. I'm curious if this was a decision from the game designers, or an exercise for you, or something else.

NM: It was a decision made by the game designer and programmer, Stefan Walker. Stef asked me if it were possible to convert 15 or so of the most famous classical pieces in history that were out of copyright protection (older than 90 years). Of course I said yes, and we set about listening and searching for pieces which fit that criteria and which would be suitable for the game. The conversion process from a full-orchestra down to a 6 note-polyphonic FM synthesizer was a challenge but a very enjoyable one, and the result earned the accolade "Best Megadrive Music Ever". I was rather chuffed with that.

GST: The soundtrack for BLAM! Machine Head is listed as released in 1995, which is before the game came out. Was this a promotional thing?

NM: Yes it was a promotional release of 300 vinyls. We sent a load to UK Clubs to try and get some club play time to promote the game. We succeeded a little but game soundtracks weren't really the thing back then so it gained little traction.

GST: That’s pretty amazing! That was late 1995, right on the precipice of game music leaking into the mainstream. (For reference, "Sega Tunes" came out in August 1996, "Club Saturn" in 1996, and Tommy Tallarico released his arrangement albums in mid-94 and mid-96) Did you get any feedback / reviews from the clubs?

NM: Yes we did. A few were kind enough to give us some feedback. One club I remember said about Nano-Seed, "a floor-filler!". That was good.

GST: Relatedly, what is your experience with club music? Some of the tracks on BLAM! sound perfect for the era. I wouldn't expect them to be written by someone who was previously unfamiliar with club music. Do you remember any particular songs or artists that you drew inspiration from?

NM: I was clubbing a lot in the 90s. I was going to Hot To Trot in Mansfield once a month, Renaissance in Derby in between and a few other local dance venues in Derby. In the end I was clubbing every weekend. Apart from the psychedelic bands I mentioned earlier I can't really pin-point a particular dance music artist. I was listening to so much and none of it was being repeated. I was constantly listening to new tracks. It was a very inspirational time musically and on top of all this I was writing my own dance music in my spare time outside of working at Core Design. So yeah, there was a whole lot of influence that went into the BLAM! Machinehead soundtrack. Having said that, with my writing, I always try to write something which I haven't heard before so I hope there is something unique and new about the music in BLAM! Machinehead.

GST: About Swagman: This seems like the most involved orchestral soundtrack that you had created since Soulstar. I'd like to compare the two a bit. How closely were you working with the rest of the team at this time? Swagman isn't a rail shooter so you can't match the soundtrack with the action in the levels... How much better was your gear at this point? I'd say "it doesn't sound like you struggled with your gear this time" but you actually disguised that struggle quite well in Soulstar, haha.

NM: As you say, Swagman wasn't a rail-shooter, so scripting the music to fit the game wasn't possible. Instead I used the location of each level as my main source of inspiration, and created atmospheres to fit those - The Nursery, In the Garden, Down the Well, The Crypt for example. I had some new kit by the time I started writing Swagman. Mainly the addition of the Roland JV1080 which I had expanded with the Orchestral Boards 1 & 2 and the World Expansion Board. I also had a Roland JV90 which is the keyboard version of the JV1080. That too was expanded. So I had plenty of voice-polyphony at that point and lots of very useful orchestral patches to play with. So you're right, it was less of a struggle with Swagman, but both projects were still very enjoyable to create. With Soulstar, I ended up using quite a few saw-tooth, synth-lead patches to create the brass ensembles. They actually sounded pretty good once they were buried in amongst the rest of the orchestral sounds!

GST: Battle Engine Aquila marks a soundtrack where you were freelance AND in the distant future of 2003. How much of your gear did you leave behind when you left Core Design to go freelance? And how much of it was digital instruments on your computer at this point? I ask the latter because, to my ears, this game sounds about as good as you can get without hiring a real orchestra.

NM: So obviously leaving Core Design meant saying goodbye to all the kit I had built up over the 6 years that I worked there, but of course I needed something to work with as a freelancer. So I spent a large chunk of my Tomb Raider money on a new studio for myself. Apart from the obvious stuff like a mixing desk, studio monitors and a PC, the decision needed to be made as to what instruments/synths I should buy. I had been really impressed with the Roland JV1080 so I bought one of those (and expanded it as before) and the synth geek in me also decided to by one of Roland's latest creations, the JP8000 - a fully record-able and controllable raw synth machine! With this machine it was possible to record the movement of every pot and fader straight to Cubase. A very useful tool for dance music, and to this day I still haven't used it to it's full potential. I also bought an Akai S9000 sampler which I used mainly for drums, so once again my orchestral setup was synth-based, rather than sample-based. So I started out freelance with this kit in 1998. When I got the opportunity to work on Battle Engine Aquila I decided I needed a bigger orchestra so I bought another Roland JV1080 (expanded again) and an E-MU Virtuoso 2000 orchestral synth which I quickly binned when the main controller knob became faulty and I wasn't impressed with the architecture of the signal path. I continued to use the Akai S9000 sampler for a few more years for electronic music but as soon as computers became fast enough for sample based editing inside the sequencing software, it too became a dust collector on my studio shelf along with other outboard gear which were replaced by VST instruments and Plugins. To this day I still use the 2 Roland JV1080s and my Roland JP8000, and that's about it. I'm not one of these musicians who needs to hide behind a million synths or new pieces of kit every month to convince people I can write music. I'm one of these guys who can make music from anything. A fork, knife, bottle, my kid's mini toy guitar, or glockenspiel. If it makes a note, I can use it, which I frequently have in my compositions over the years. I remember when I was working on a prehistoric game called BC, I used a metal electric fire which I scraped with a nail and hit some bricks with drum sticks to create the percussion sounds for the music. I don't need to buy new kit to be creative.

GST: I'm curious about what the limits are when it comes to crafting something unique. If you go too "far out," you'll have a unique song, but it might not resemble "music". Where's the balance between copying the songs you heard in the club and becoming autechre? Same question for non-electronic music: It's possible to get unique compositions if you go to the edge of music theory, but that can also become inaccessible. (You did seem to use odd time for the end theme of Waterlollies (11/8 by my count) though, which is always a fun technique.)

NM: Finding something new isn't about moving further and further away from music, it's about persevering with textures, ensembles, sounds, patterns and harmony until you find or create something which you haven't heard before. You have to wade through a load of stuff you have already heard until you find new waters. Sometimes that can take hours, sometimes days. You have to keep going. Adding stuff, deleting stuff. Thinking outside the box. Sometimes forgetting what you have been taught. Turning things upside down, back to front. It also helps to enter altered states of the mind when creating. This can be done in a variety of ways. Working late into the night until you are close to falling asleep for example, puts your brain into an almost dream state which helps create new things which you wouldn't normally think of during the day. This is why many creatives, and not just musicians, do their best work in the early hours of the morning. Other things can help too, drinking alcohol, but this has a negative impact on your hearing, and then of course there's marijuana which I think most musicians that have ever lived swear by! Personally for me, it's about perseverance, working at the detail and striving for perfection. Music doesn't have to be complicated or removed from tonality and harmony to be different. There are billions of combinations, it's just about looking for the new ones.

GST: One more question about the early days: Does any of the original software or source code for your Megadrive music still exist?

NM: There's a possibility that I have a copy of the programme somewhere on my hard drives but it needs a special custom built PCI card installed in your PC to work and that, I do not have anymore. You see in those days, getting access to certain elements of the games console just wasn't possible like it is today. Now you install some dev tools plugin and you have direct access to every feature of the console. Back in the early 90s we had to dismantle the machine with a screwdriver, rip out the circuit boards, making notes of the chip serial numbers and manufacturers, then calling the company and asking them for a full specification of the pin numbers and what each one did. After that, we would order the chips we wanted (or rip them out of the games console itself) and design our own circuit board which included the chips we wanted and have it all re-mounted onto a custom built PCI card which we would then install into a PC. After that, it was all about programming. We followed a similar process for the Megadrive sound chip. It was a Yamaha YM2612. So we ordered a couple of these directly from Yamaha and once we had the full spec it was pretty simple to work out how to wire it up on a circuit board. All we needed to do was to add left and right phono sockets to the output pins on the chip and send the 5v power supply to it and there you go, Megadrive synth on a PC! Of course there are the other pins (24 in total) which needed connecting up to the data bus, memory access pins, read/write request lines, interrupt request line, ground pins etc. but once we'd figured all this out it was simple enough to create a circuit diagram for the board. Once we had that we sent off the design and the 2 x Yamaha chips to a circuit board manufacturing plant in the UK. A week later our 2 x Megadrive synth PCI boards arrived. We plugged one into my PC and the other into Sean (programmer)'s PC, and we got to work coding up the sequencer. Sean took care of the machine-code level programming of the synth engine and I programmed the high-level language user interface. We had the whole sequencer up and running in 4 months. So I may have the source code and sequencer files but I don't have the hardware on which it runs. Of course I could have another circuit board made but it would take some time to get all that together again.

GST: What happened to Console Sounds / Industrial Ambiance? I can’t find it anywhere.

NM: I took the album off-line. It was available as a library album for a while but the critiques viewed it as if it was an album release and began slating it for sounding like off-the-shelf music - which is exactly what it was. It was never an album release. It was just a bunch of tunes that had not been used for anything, and I was just trying to earn some money. But when the critiques got hold of it and slated it, I took it down.

GST: That's understandable, but unfortunate. Have you considered bringing the album (or any of the songs) back on a service like Bandcamp or Soundcloud?

NM: Yes I do have ideas and avenues for a lot of my music. The first thing I want to do is to officially release all my game soundtracks. After that I'll see what's left and if there's any mileage releasing any of it.

GST: Actually, how much of your music can you release on Bandcamp? I know that the rights can get tied up...

NM: Well after the Kickstarter campaign, I am now officially a record company and publisher so I can release any of my music whenever I like. I don't need a platform like Bandcamp or Soundcloud (where often the composer/performer ends up surrendering their rights for little compensation). I don't need to do that now. I can release my music myself and retain 100% of the rights, which is a better way to go. It's been a hell of a lot of work to get to the company to this point, but the infrastructure is there now, so I'm going to continue with that.

GST: Oh, that's exciting! Do you have any idea when we can expect to see some old soundtracks released? I'm also very interested in the dance music you wrote outside of Core Design. That would be a fun throwback thing.

NM: I want to start rolling my old game soundtracks out over the next few years. I have earmarked about 10 albums which I think are worthy of release. They all require some work in terms of remastering and re-recording. Some would benefit from a live orchestral recording like Soulstar, Heimdall II, Swagman and Battle Engine Aquila to name a few, but those kinds of production are very expensive so we'll have to see how funding goes for that kind of thing. In the meantime though, I will be releasing new synthetic recordings of these soundtracks - all made using the original equipment which I wrote them on, so they will sound the same, only better! Yeah there's probably an album or two of dance type tracks kicking around which could be released. Other songs too which are still unfinished so i'll need to do a bit of work to finish those up into some releasable form. So plenty of work to keep me busy for the next 5 or so years I'd say.

GST: Where can we find news about these remastered albums? Where's a good place to find you? Is there anything else you'd like to plug?

NM: The best places to keep informed as to what I'm doing career wise is on my official FB page: https://www.facebook.com/nathanmccreeofficial/ and also my Twitter page: https://twitter.com/nrpmccree As far as plugs go, please just support my concerts. They cost a huge amount of money and time to organize and I can only keep doing them if we get a good attendance. It's really important, not just for The Tomb Raider Suite, but for games music in general, and if you do like the Tomb Raider Suite album which is free to play on Spotify, please consider buying a copy. This is how us musicians make a living and it really does help us to keep going and writing more stuff which hopefully you will enjoy. A big shout out to all the fans who have supported me so far and who continue to do so - you guys rock!

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cheerioss · 5 years

Text

man bananadrien's got me thinking about this

this post by @buggachat helped too. trying another way of writing hope it's okay??

---

Adrien was asleep. He could be dreaming of sweeping Ladybug off her feet, or imagining her mask falling to reveal a very familiar just-a-friend with pigtails. Or both, who knows? Point was, he was sleeping, the world around him a distant thing.

Plagg, on the other hand, or... paw? Anyway, he was sleeping while holding a very valuable treasure, that being the delicacy that we all know as camembert. Oh stinky, gooey goodness, why bother with life when you have the king of cheese. The best gift in life. Our dear cat mini-god-of-destruction was about to end his dream monologue when he heard soft shuffling, opening his eyes to see green. More precisely, a turtle. Who was currently pulling off the ring on his chosen's finger.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry."

Oh. He realised what was happening. He was going to start waking Adrien up to stop his fellow kwami from taking him away.

"Ahhhhhh-"

And then he disappeared into the ring. He could have let me finish that last camembert first, geez, being his last thought.

The turtle dude- I mean, Wayzz guiltily floated away with the ring of the black cat, dropping a slip of paper as per his master's instructions.

---

Adrien awoke to the feeling of paper landing on his nose. It smells like some sort of tea, he mused, as he cleared his mind of dreams to focus on the words written on it.

"Adrien, you're a most incredible Chat Noir, but I cannot let you and Ladybug risk your lives to fix the mistake that I made. I hope you can forgive me. Be happy and forget all about me. Signed, Fu."

The letter dissolved in green sparkles before he could fully process the words, but when he finally did comprehend it, his eyes widened to the size of wheels of camembert.

"Plagg? Oh, sweet camembert, Plagg!"

He checked his finger, and it was ringless. He looked under his pillow, his bed, the floor, nothing. Only evidence left was a wedge of stinky cheese on his other pillow. Adrien really hoped this was a dream.

He was not given time to panic though, as his phone soon chimed in that familiar, dreadful tune. Akuma alert. Superhero instincts kicked in and drove him to his closet, looking for the perfect disguise. Dream or not he had to save his city!

"Hmm... Trench coat with fedora? Nope. Motorcycle helmet from that one movie rendezvous with Marinette plus something else? Nah. Oh! Of course! The banana suit! This is the perfect occasion to try it out."

And off he went. He wouldn't be able to climb out the window with the get up so he went through the front door. Who cares about those video cameras? Paris was at stake! Finding a scooter was also a priority now. He shot out of the mansion gates and well, you know the rest of the story.

---

Nathalie checked the video feed from the living room cameras the next morning, almost spitting out her coffee at her discovery.

"Sir? You... might want to see this."

"What is it, Nathalie? I'm still watching the news on the returned temple."

She simply shoved the tablet into her boss's line of sight, having no idea how to explain the situation.

"Is that Chat Noir running through my living room? Am I hallucinating?"

"I believe so sir, and you're not hallucinating. It does match the videos of Chat Noir running around in the streets on the Ladyblog. The one that Chat Noir himself said he was proud of in his latest interview."

"How DARE he run through my house with that monstrosity of an outfit! I will not stand!"

Not once did he suspect it was Adrien and that he was Chat Noir again. Because you know, no one can make the connections, no matter how obvious. Whatever did happen to that suit though? How did Adrien even have that in his closet in the first place? Guess we'll never know. ;)

#ml feast #feast #ml spoilers #ml #mlb #scene rewrite #but not really??#miraculous ladybug #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #bananadrien

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jamesmydeer · 5 years

Text

passing notes

james sirius x reader

notes: i didn’t intend for this to have multiple parts, but it was too long for just one post. it’s a bit different than my usual writing, but i guess it’s alright. i quite enjoy writing for jsp! i hope you enjoy! as always, feedback: appreciated. xoxo

word count: 2.9k

warnings: none

part ii

James Sirius Potter had seemingly grown accustomed to the sporadic camera flashes and countless ‘Over Here!’s. After all, he had grown up with his mom going through the same thing. He enjoyed the spotlight, clearly taking after his namesake. However, when he had to give an interview, that was a different story.

James had been dreading Puddlemere’s press conference all week. The number one thing Ginny had cautioned him on when he received the news that he was a contestor for a spot on the team was press. She knew firsthand that, as a Potter, the questions that were asked of her son would be different than his teammates.

She was right, James had come to learn. It also didn’t help that Lee Jordan made sure to attend every single press conference James was involved in. He’d go through and answer all the reporters’ generic questions alongside his teammates, few off topic questions being thrown directly at him. When he would go to leave is when Lee would snatch him, knowing James would never tell him no.

Today was no different. James could see Lee Jordan just off the stage. He smiled to himself; as much as he complained about Jordan’s questions, they were by far the highlight of his night.

As the press conference ended, James stood when his teammates did, politely smiling and waving to the crowd in front of him. Sure enough, as soon as he ascended the last step, he was tapped on the shoulder. He turned around, mock annoyance on his face.

“Let’s get it over with then,” he joked, fixing his hair for the camera. Lee laughed at him and walked over to the cameraman, making sure everything was ready to go. Once the interview was ready to begin, Lee turned to James.

“Today is gonna be a bit different,” he smiled shyly at James, who raised an eyebrow and scrunched his nose.

“I got fans to send in questions,” Lee continued, grimacing playfully at his best friend’s nephew. James groaned, immediately filled with dread. It was no secret that James was a rather attractive man. The majority of his fans, let alone fans that would submit questions, were girls. This meant that the questions would be very personal, and not about his job at all. He loved his fans, but he really wasn’t in the mood. James was pulled from his thoughts by Lee telling him they were rolling.

“Good morning everyone, welcome back to Potterwatch. I’m your host, Lee Jordan, and today I’m joined by one of my absolute favorite guests, James Sirius Potter!” James smiled brightly and waved at the camera.

“Alright James, ready to answer some fan questions?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he joked, smirking at the camera.

The interview was going good so far. The questions had been respectful. James made a mental note to thank Lee for filtering out any inappropriate questions.

“Last question, and might I say I saved the best for last. Laura from Cambridge asks ‘If you could go back and change anything from your Hogwarts years, what would it be?’”

James bit his lip in thought, wracking his brain for a suitable answer. He could always go with the generic ‘practiced more’, or ‘studied more’. For some reason, he felt the need to get a little deep with this question. He smiled at the thought of her.

“Well, I’m still single, so maybe dated more in school,” he spoke, winking at the camera; he was known for being a flirt in interviews. Lee turned to the camera and gave a suggestive look.

“Would you like to elaborate, Mr. Potter?”

James slumped his shoulders and sighed, as if to say no, but he did anyway.

“Well, there was this girl that I liked in school, but I never talked to her. I would go to the library every single day and tell myself I was going to talk to her, but then I’d chicken out.”

“Ooooooh, was she pretty?” Lee prodded.

“Yeah, she was. She was in the year below me, so we didn’t have any classes together. She would write in the same yellow book everyday for, like, four years. I’d pay good money to know what she was writing about,” realizing he was rambling, James felt the need to justify the reason why he had noticed the notebook in the first place.

“I think she wanted to be a writer,” he added, looking down towards his feet as his cheeks grew warm. Lee noticed this, and decided to wrap up the interview. Usually he would prod, but this subject seemed a little touchy.

“Well James, thanks for talking to us. We wish you good luck tomorrow,” James smiled and nodded, shaking Lee’s hand and turning towards the camera.

“Don’t forget to tune in tomorrow to see Puddlemere United take on the Chudley Cannons. River out,” and with that, Lee and James shared their goodbyes and parted ways.

When James arrived home, he started thinking back over the interview. He cringed when he remembered what he had said.

“Dear Godric,” he muttered, bringing his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose and trudging to his room to get ready for bed.

Of course everyone had seen the interview, no one Y/n’s age would dare miss a James Potter II interview. Except Y/n. Sure, she thought he was cute, but it was nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. In fact, that was exactly what it was. She had spent the duration of her Hogwarts attendance fawning over the boy.

Flipping through the channels, Y/n stopped when she saw Puddlemere LIVE! Pregame. As she settled into her couch to hear what the announcers would say about the two teams that were about to play, her phone rang. Y/n groaned, she hated talking on the phone. After checking the Caller ID, she almost didn’t pick up.

“Have you seen it?” Alice asked, skipping any sort of greeting. Alice had been Y/n’s closest friend in school, and still was.

“Seen what?” Y/n asked, grabbing the remote and turning the TV down, noticing that an interview with James had just come on.

“So you haven’t. James talked about you in an interview.”

Y/n nearly dropped her phone. There was no way he had. She didn’t even think he knew her name.

“You’re lying,” she spoke, dumbfounded.

“Serious as his middle name,” she laughed, but Y/n hadn’t seemed to hear. She remembered what was on the TV.

“I’ll call you back,” she hung up. Scrambling for the remote, she quickly unmuted her television. She pressed record as well, just in case.

She hated watching his interviews. It reminded her too much of the fact that she was infatuated with a boy she had never spoken to. Every time he smiled, smirked, or winked at the camera, Y/n’s stomach erupted with butterflies. She hated it.

She started thinking that Alice was making fun of her crush on him when Lee Jordan stated that he was on his last question.

“Last question, and might I say I saved the best for last. Laura from Cambridge asks ‘If you could go back and change anything from your Hogwarts years, what would it be?’”

If she wasn’t going to get a name drop, she might as well turn off the interview. She felt pathetic, of course he wasn’t going to say anything about her. They had been out of school for three years. If he saw her on the street, he’d probably think she was a muggle.

She reached for the remote, but it wasn’t there. She looked over, figuring it was just out of reach, but it wasn’t where she left it. She stood, looking all around her living room for the remote, but stopped when she heard Lee ask James if a girl was pretty. She looked up at the TV, and he seemed to be blushing.

“Yeah, she was. She was in the year below me, so we didn’t have any classes together. She would write in the same yellow book everyday for, like, four years. I’d pay good money to know what she was writing about.” Y/n’s jaw dropped. Alice was telling the truth. James Sirius Potter was talking about her. She needed to rewind it to get context or she thought she might explode.

“I think she wanted to be a writer.” Y/n squealed as James blushed and looked down at his feet. She turned back around to her couch, and the remote was right where she left it. She began to get frustrated, but then remembered that she hand intended on changing the channel. She plopped down, rewinding the interview to watch it from the beginning, allowing her feelings to display themselves freely.

All the other questions were tame. Favorite color, favorite teacher at Hogwarts, most memorable match while in school. One question stood out, giving Y/n an idea.

Y/n L/n entered the coffee shop that she did almost everyday, but this time with intentions other than getting coffee. James had said in the interview that his favorite restaurant was this coffee shop, which left her confused as to why she had never seen him there. Nonetheless, she walked up to the counter and smiled at the woman before her.

Y/n had grown close with the owner of the coffee shop while she was still in school. Mrs. May was a portly woman. She had coarse white hair that she wore naturally everyday. Her apron was yellow, stained with coffee and flour. She had smile lines that Y/n had figured she’d had for a long time; Mrs. May claimed to come out of the womb smiling.

“Hello Miss Y/n, how are you doing today?” Mrs. May spoke, smiling brightly at the young girl across the counter. Y/n adjusted her grip on the package.

“I’m doing just fine, thank you. Yourself?” she asked politely.

“Busy busy busy. That Potter boy said something about us in an interview. I’ve never seen so many little girls in my life.” Y/n chuckled. Of course people would come here hoping to see him.

“Well, I came here to ask a favor of you,” Y/n smiled hopefully up at the woman she shared a family-like bond with. Mrs. May pursed her lips and squinted her eyes playfully.

Y/n placed the package on the table.

“Could you give this to James Potter the next time he’s here?” Y/n asked shyly, looking down at the package. She hadn’t even thought about the yellow notebook in three years.

“You too?” Mrs. May prodded suggestively. “Lose your owl?” she joked.

Y/n shook her head, sighing. “I just–”

She was interrupted by Mrs. May putting a hand up, signaling for her to stop. She lifted the package, inspecting it. She noticed there wasn’t a to or from anywhere on it.

“You want me to tell this boy it’s from you?” she asked, eyes still trained on the uncharacteristically neat packaging. Y/n shook her head.

“You don’t have to. It’s inside.”

“Of course I’ll give it to him dear. Now, your usual?”

“I actually have to get going,” she apologized.

“Well I hope you have a wonderful day.”

“Thank you Mrs. May! Have a nice day.”

“I’ll make sure loverboy gets the package.” Y/n shook her head, turning around and walking backwards so she could face the woman she was speaking to. However, before she could get any words out, she bumped into someone.

Turning around to apologize profusely, she was met with someone she hadn’t expected to see. She looked up at him, keeping eye contact for a strange amount of time.

James spoke first. He was just as caught off guard as she was. He smiled down at her, breathing out a soft “Hi.”

“Hi,” Y/n whispered back, smiling up at him. When she realized she had just whispered, she had to force her hand from smacking her forehead. James chuckled.

“I’m really sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she muttered, avoiding any more eye contact.

“It’s quite alright,” he dismissed, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. He was just about to ask her if he could buy her a coffee when she rushed out the door.

James thought the whole situation was weird. He hadn’t seen her since Hogwarts, and a couple days after he talks about her on TV, here she is. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head and made his way to the front counter.

“Hey Mrs. May, how are things?” he asked the woman he had grown to consider a friend.

“Crowded, thanks to you.”

James figured that much. There was a group of teenagers in a corner booth staring at them. He waved at them, hearing them all squeal when he turned back to give his order.

“Sorry about that, but I’ll have–”

“Before I forget,” Mrs. May cut him off, reaching behind the counter and pulling out the package. “I was instructed to give this to you.”

She placed the package on the counter. James furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. His face fell when he realized what it was. He leaned across the table and whispered “Did they tell you to give me this?”, motioning his head towards the girls.

Mrs. May just chuckled, turning to fix his coffee and shaking her head. “Your usual?”

“Uh, yes ma’am.” James spoke, grabbing the package and going to sit down at a table at the other side of the shop from the teens.

As soon as he sat down, he tore open the package. He never had been patient, and he was eager to find out what was inside. When he saw, his eyes widened.

The yellow notebook. Her notebook. He quickly opened it, noticing the note that was tucked neatly in between the cover and the first page. He grabbed the note, deciding to read it before anything else.

Hi James!

I’m very glad you finally worked up enough courage to talk to me, so be it inadvertently. Some Gryffindor you are. You know, when someone smiles at you when they catch you staring at them in the library, it’s usually a good sign. I believe this is the book you alluded to. It does me no good collecting dust in a drawer. Enjoy!

p.s. journalist, not writer.

James was at a loss for words. He didn’t even know what to think. Did she mean she liked him too? Probably not, it had been a while. James folded the paper neatly, moving it to the side. He began to flip through the pages of the book, expecting to find stories and poems. Instead, he was met with mindless doodle and miscellaneous lists. Movies to watch, books to read, and favorite songs of all time we’re not what he expected to litter the book. His favorite page was one full of all her personal usernames and passwords. He felt himself fall a little harder at her careless actions.

After going through all the songs she had listed as her favorites, James flipped to a page title ‘Celebrity Crushes’. He laughed to himself. There was no way she had looked over the book before she gave it to him. His eyes scanned over the list. He almost missed, at the bottom of the list, his own name. An ear to ear smile broke out on his face. There was no way.

Mrs. May walked over to him, handing him his coffee. She glanced at the note beside him and knew exactly what was going on. She winked at the blushing boy and walked back to the register.

He flipped to the very back of the book and ripped out a page, writing his own note.

Hi Y/n!

I don’t think you understand just how much this means to me. I spent a good chunk of my life convincing myself to try and talk to you. Some Gryffindor I am? I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be kind. Now that I know you felt the same way, I partially blame you for our lack of communication. I’m gonna assume you went back and added my name to the crushes.

p.s. you probably shouldn’t go handing out your personal information to people

He folded the paper, tucking it in the same place Y/n had left hers. He walked up to the counter, but before he could speak, Mrs. May reached her hand out.

“I’ll give it to her if you won’t,” she joked, giving him a pointed look.

“Thank you so much,” he handed her the book, then turned towards the door. As soon as he was outside, he pulled out his phone, calling the number of the Puddlemere publicist. When he didn’t answer, James left a voicemail.

“Hey, sorry to bother you. This is James. I was just wondering if you could maybe work out an interview for me with Y/n L/n. I think it would be really good for the team and all. Thanks mate.”

#harry potter #jamesmydeer #harry potter imagines #harry potter hc #harry potter imagine #james sirius potter #james sirius #james potter ii #james sirius x reader #james sirius imagine #james sirius hc #james sirius potter x reader #james sirius potter imagine #james potter ii x reader #james potter ii imagine

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fallingin-like · 4 years

Text

november 16

l’amour parle en fleus by @scribbleb-red [requested by @fuzzballsheltiepants]

see which other fics i’m reviewing this month! / my review request post!

this is a wonderful and heartbreaking fic that deals with grief and the beauty of life. it is soft and sweet, while dealing with hard topics and loss. this fic is incomplete.

disclaimer: i reviewed this fic when it had 7 chapters, so no comments on chapter 8. sorry!

this fic was stunning and i was blown away by your amazing descriptions and imagery. everything is so vivid and feels real. i was so interested in the little pieces of andrew and neil’s stories and how they pieced together to bring them to this story.

parts that stood out to me:

”he had cut himself free of the roots of his past and planted new ones, blooming in a country that should never have belonged to him, yet matched the varying shades of his soul” wow, this is such a beautiful beginning to the story, the wording you used makes it read like poetry, especially the last part of the sentence

”not on that sun-drenched afternoon” oh this is wonderful

”bruises had stiffened his face into a mask” i love the way that you wrote this

it breaks my heart to see how affected andrew is by aaron’s death. although he tries his best to show it outwardly, andrew gave up so much of himself to protect aaron

ooh the house/property you’ve described sounds so nice. do you have something specific (like an existing house) that you’re referencing?

”maybe he’d make it a challenge to sleep in all of them” whatamood andrew

”the air was clean and full of grass, as if it had only ever been breathed by wild things” oh, this is so nice

cats! sounds like a dream, to be in a bnb and find out they have cats

it sounds like fun to read a book that someone has annotated. so much that you can learn about them through how they react to the events in the novel in comparison to what you feel or think

”liked how steady and quiet king was, how sir vocalised every time they wanted something” love that you had andrew highlight these characteristics, it seems very in character

”the sound of footsteps approaching an unlockable door” EXCUSE ME DID YOU THINK YOU COULD JUST SLIDE THIS IN AFTER “a number plate, a smile, a mist rising over a river” AND THINK I WOULD NOT NOTICE. LIKE IT’S NOT A DEVASTATING SENTENCE.

”his was a skull full of a thousand momento mori. aaron was just the latest” woah what a powerful two sentences

how cute that andrew keeps all of neil’s notes! sounds like something i would do haha

ohmygoodness neil singing is bringing me back to my french classes from a long long time ago (i can remember enough to kind of work out the english translations loool)

”because worst of all, nathaniel never seemed to notice him back. it rankled… didn’t the idiot care that he was killing the world over with that voice?” yeah okay andrew, you keep thinking that’s the reason you hate that neil doesn’t notice you.

woah you descriptions of the outside is absolutely gorgeous. the colours, descriptions, and imagery are so wonderful and overwhelming and beautiful. i get so lost in the sheer volume of it all, i forget about andrew’s anger (as i’m sure he also does, a little)

andrew picking up his cigarette butt is so lovely and fitting for this section of the story

AH IT’S NEIL

”and, as the folds of material were plucked at by the wind’s childish fingers, andrew followed the sharp lines of his collarbones, the smattering of freckles, strangely warped and wefted flesh” I LOVE THIS. the wording you used is absolutely amazing

NEIL HAS PIERCINGS AND HE KEEPS LAVENDER IN THEM THIS IS THE BEST

oh, the story of aaron giving andrew his hat is so soft, such a wonderful thing shared between the two of them. it’s so small, but for us who know how much of a struggle everything is with them, a constant push and pull, it’s everything.

neil’s loft sounds so nice, how did you come up with this idea?

also prickly neil is great, i love that you have this shortly after andrew goes to touch a plant and gets pricked because of it

”a stab of hatred lanced through andrew’s stomach, white-hot, easy. sweat rolled down the centre of his back, a sour coating filled the back of his throat” ahh your descriptions are so so good

”andrew replied, popping the ‘p’ like an eyeball under a thumb.” exCUSE ME LIKE WHAT??

also i am very much a fan of neil being super strong

uhhHHHH neil has a tongue piercing?? i think andrew actually vapourized in that moment

orange! tractor! adorable!

”apathy, his brain supplied, the opposite of anger, the inverse of hate” oh this is interesting. i guess i always automatically thought of love, but when i think of this, it seems so right. hate, anger are such strong emotions, overtaking everything, making it hard to think, feeling so so much, but the absence of that feeling? oh

”and neil was leaning forward, plucking the cigarette from andrew’s fingers and taking a drag, smoke spilling between his teeth when he grinned a grin like a knife blade. andrew felt it in his gut” !!! this!!!

”addiction left people brittle. left them dry as kindling and just as easy to burn” woah

i really cannot handle these boys

NEIL IS MISSING PART OF HIS FINGER, OH MY GOODNESS I AM LOSING IT HERE.

amazing bit about the garden, never thought about it that way. it’s so true

honestly, there is just so so much to unpack. love your description of the buzzing andrew is feeling, i really like hearing andrew’s thought process, how everything turns back to aaron, love the way that, even now, he can read neil so well

THE TWINYARD EMBRACE. THE WAY THEY HOLD EACH OTHER. “‘you killed him,’ andrew said. ‘you killed her,’ replied aaron.” THIS ACKNOWLEDGEMENT THAT THEY HAVE PROTECTED EACH OTHER. THE BEGINNING OF JOINT THERAPY. THEY WAY THAT THEY SLOWLY LEARN TO LOVE EACH OTHER IN A WAY THAT’S MORE HEALTHY.

ahhhhh andrew talking to neil? this is so so good to see his progress, to see how he’s working through his grieving

oh boy, loving the little rivalry that eduard brings, the kind of tension heh

this town/market sounds amazing, so beautiful

IN THE GAME. OH DANG EDUARD YOU ARE NOT THE FARMER BOY WHO HAS THE HOTS FOR NEIL THAT I THOUGHT YOU WERE

”’well… like an american,’ said neil, like it explained everything. and it did, like a fire hissing out in the rain, andrew felt his shoulders relax, his ire cool” ahh so nice.

”because neil was so much give, when andrew needed to take” oh this is so interesting!

”neil shouldn’t be allowed to just vanish” AHH

”andrew shouldn’t have lashed out, sneered at neil’s story and spot on his honesty” NOOO ANDREW WHY

”his scars were the noughts to andrew’s crosses” oh this is so nice (like, not nice, but you know)

woah it’s really interesting hearing neil’s story while also having andrew’s commentary available with his knowledge from school. to see the personal side of it and also what was portrayed to the public

as much as i love neil with long curly hair, him with a buzzed look has me interested. paired with his cheekbones and his eyes, woahhhhh

”it looked like he’d been bled of life, colours fading until he became a negative of himself or an older version of the hollow-eyed teenager from the newspapers all those years ago.” i think this is my favourite sentence of this fic so far. makes me hurt.

AARON USED TO CALL ANDREW A TURNIP THAT IS SO ADORABLE I WANT PEOPLE TO CALL ME TURNIP (wait i just looked up what it means and although it is true i have no brains i was thinking in an affectionate way. turnips look really cute and are tiny lol)

ahhh neil in his bed in the barn during the storm ;-;

i love how you incorporated consent into andrew anchoring neil from his panic with the hand on his neck

ohmygoodness i cannot believe that neil has a PALMETTO HOODIE WITH A NAME AND NUMBER ON IT AH

”they took long walks through the fields and along the mountain paths, navigating the rocky terrain of andrew’s grief and neil’s jagged history that came so painfully close to intertwining with andrew’s own” oh this is such a beautiful sentence

NEIL HAS WATCHED ANDREW’S INTERVIEWS EXCUSE ME WHAT THAT IS SO CUTE

”he caught his reflection in the mirror and saw only himself” THIS IS AMAZING. what a transition that we get to see andrew experience

”for months andrew’s mind was a jagged thing, not knowing what he wanted or what he needed” !!

ooh love the acknowledgement that younger andrew would have denied his feelings but he’s more mature now and is more in tune with his emotions and wants!! amazing

”dinner with neil was an abundant thing. odd choice of word, but it was the only way andrew could describe it” it is an odd choice, but at the same time i think i understand it?

oh. andrew’s dream of aaron in the field. it’s so sad and soft and makes me feel blurry around the edges. what a contrast to the evening with neil. i like it though. you don’t just get over grieving. it gets better and it gets worse. it comes back again and again, even when you think it will not return. “wait for me. wait for me” i love what this adds, it feels so right

”andrew pressed every lane and shady square between the pages of his memory” so wonderful

PARLE EN FLEURS. EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE NOW.

woah aaron’s story was intense and well-told. things make a lot more sense now.

love that andrew sends nicky pictures to show everything, to share without words. they have such a unique relationship, they both care so much but are so different in the way that they show it sometimes it clashes

”it’s not the kind of pain that can be quantified. and it will still hurt in a year, in five, in ten”

i mostly skimmed the last chapter because i know that i easily internalize the thoughts and feelings that come when people write depression.

i love the way that you structured this fic. the chapter titles are perfect because throughout the fic we see andrew’s healing and grieving. it’s subtle, but he clearly shifts through the different stages that you include and i’m really impressed by how seamlessly you incorporated that into the fic. the fic’s focus slowly transfers from aaron to neil so naturally that you almost don’t notice it until you take a step away for a moment.

you do such a marvelous job with the descriptions of this fic, i liked so so many sentences that i could not possibly mention them all. the town and the fields and the surroundings sound so beautiful and stunning, you made everything so vibrant and alive. all the colours and textures and words that you used really established an amazing backdrop to the story you wrote.

and the story, i loved your approach to this, it’s very realistic. the interactions between andrew and neil are pure and natural and don’t seem forced. you created complicated, intricate relationships between all the characters, brought up the difficulty of expressing emotions and feelings with people, and trust that was built. i liked the way that you wrote the characters, and i adore neil with his flower piercings. thank you so much for writing this fic! i can’t wait to see what comes next!

#l'amour parle en fleurs #aftg fic review #raelle writes

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fromtheringapron · 5 years

Text

Scary Wrestling Stuff from My Childhood

Every Halloween season, it’s not uncommon for wrestling fans to reminisce about the moments in our great sport that genuinely scared them, and I’m certainly no exception. At the end of the day, wrestling is still a fantasy world that’s seen plenty of dark, suspenseful, and even at times supernatural bullshit. In fact, one of its biggest stars is The Undertaker, who has been in turns a mortician, a zombie, a Satanic cult leader, a desert biker, and some strange hybrid of all those characters at once.

Truthfully, nothing in wrestling scares me anymore. Well, at least not in kayfabe. Real life still provides a lot of fright in and out of the ring. When I see a wrestler get legitimately injured in the ring, you bet I’m concerned. The depressingly common trend of premature wrestling deaths is a terrifying subject on its own. But when you’re a kid, where even the most ridiculous thing in wrestling can seem real, there’s a lot in kayfabe to be scared about, and you don’t even known what the hell the term “kayfabe” even means.

So, to get in the spirit of the spooky season, I’ll give you a quick rundown of some things that personally scared me shitless watching wrestling as a youngster:

Evil Doink the Clown: Doink is usually associated with everything wrong in WWF’s New Generation era⏤one-dimensional gimmickry, cheesy beyond belief, and worst of all, out of touch. But it’s a reputation that isn’t quite deserved. The original Doink character was that of an evil clown, brilliantly brought to life by Matt Borne. As someone who churned out many rewatches of WrestleMania IX as a child, which features the character at its peak, you better believe I was terrified of this wrestling clown with lime green hair. If evil Doink’s sudden mood swings and aggression weren’t unsettling enough, the entrance music is fucking horrifying to this day. Far scarier than Pennywise and the Joker could ever wish, complete with maniacal clown cackles. Yikes, yikes, yikes. It sounds like the soundtrack to a haunted carnival episode of Are You Afraid of the Dark? on Nickelodeon. Given the rise of creepy clowns in recent pop culture, evil Doink would still get over now, and scare a whole new generation of kids to boot.

Kane, Circa ’97/‘98: Hear me out: the video package to Kane and The Undertaker’s clash at WrestleMania XIV is one of the best ever. The music, the footage, and even the random Michael Cole narration all flow together perfectly to create something goosebumpingly epic. But, damn, as kid? This was some terrifying shit. Considering I was too young to stay up and watch every episode of Raw in full, that package was like a highlight reel of pure horror. Kane has become known for taking part in some of the most infamous and illogical storylines in WWE history, but it’s often forgotten how effective a job was done to build him up as a monster upon his debut. Remember when he lit that random dude on fire on Raw? Holy fuck. Not even the Wicked Witch of the West setting fire to The Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz shook me up quite like that. The eyes peeping out of his mask was, to me, the most frightening part of his appearance. Total nightmare fuel. Generations more familiar with bald, mask-less Kane could never quite know the trauma.

Papa Shango’s Sega Genesis Theme Music: Okay, this a fairly obscure one, but my brother and I would play WWF Royal Rumble on Sega Genesis back in the day. The game was complete with cute little 8-bit versions of each wrestler’s entrance themes. The Crush theme, in particular, is a minor masterpiece. The other piece of music that made an impact on me is the version of Papa Shango’s theme. I didn’t have too much footage of Papa Shango in my childhood wrestling VHS collection so he held some mythical status to me. The original theme is creepy enough, but the Genesis version really takes you to an dark, murky swamp where Shango is hexing his latest victim. It scared me so much that I’d speed ahead the character selection screen in the game so I wouldn’t have to hear it. You can scoff at me now all you want, but I must speak my truth.

Zeus and Randy Savage Attack Hulk Hogan and Brutus Beefcake: If you’ve watched Survivor Series 1989, you may remember a segment where Mean Gene interviews Hulk Hogan and Brutus Beefcake about their upcoming match at No Holds Barred. That’s not scary at all, but it’s what happens as the interview unfolds that, for whatever reason, really tore me up when I’d put my copy of this show in the VHS. Sensational Sherri crashes the interview, with the most wild-eyed glared you could imagine, shouting at Hogan and Beefcake in her dark, garish makeup. She then throws handfuls of powder in their eyes, allowing Zeus and Randy Savage to attack them. It’s so hard to describe what’s so scary about this. No Holds Barred, both the movie and the pay-per-view, were pretty notorious failures so it’s not even like it’s remembered as a major angle or anything. If anything, I gotta think it has something to do with the sudden tonal shift from a goofy babyface interview to an all-out assault, which can be pretty striking for any young viewer.

Mick Foley, Hell in the Cell: I don’t really need to say any more, do I? The Hell in the Cell match at King of The Ring 1998 is something that warrants a post of its own, as its undoubtedly one of my favorite matches of all time. But I cannot stress this enough: watching a human being do what Mick Foley does in this match, no matter how pre-planned, is some seriously distressing shit. As an adult, you realize you’re watching this man single-handedly take years off his career. But even in kayfabe, there’s true terror in watching the full extent of Mankind’s threshold reveal itself. The dude literally fucking smiles to the camera as he’s concussed and his mouth bloodied into steak tartar. If that image alone doesn’t stay with you, I don’t know what will. Mick Foley turns this match into a mini horror movie. Years before people tuned in droves to watch Saw and Hostel, they watched Mick Foley torture himself. In the match’s most chilling moments, he turns Mankind into a character like Michael Myers or Jason Voorhees⏤just when you think he’s been completely broken in half, he’s up and ready for more.

Early Undertaker: I can’t possibly go on without mentioning The Undertaker. When you really think about it, some of things I’ve mentioned already wouldn’t have been possible without him. It seems a little cliche to even bring him up for a topic like this, but he’s the OG of cheesy wrestling horror. Plus, it needs to be said: The Undertaker, in first couple years of his WWF career, could easily scare kids. It definitely scared the kids who grew up watching that version of the character, at least. I watched Survivor Series 1990 countless times growing up so, as you could imagine, I was one of the fortunate/unfortunate children. One of the more brilliant touches of The Undertaker’s early character, outside of the creepy glare and slow approach, was the various shots of mortified children in the crowd. It seems like a minor detail, but it went a long way in establishing him as a genuine monster. Not to mention, there were things the Undertaker did during that era that, even by the family-friendly standards of early ‘90s WWF, were pretty messed-up. How about that time he locked The Ultimate Warrior in a coffin? Or when he worked with Jake Roberts to terrorize Randy Savage and Miss Elizabeth? Make no mistake, those first few years were critical in letting us know for whom the bell tolls.

And that about does it for my own personal horrors. Maybe you think mine are silly, but what about wrestling scared you growing up? Does it still scare you? Does it still give you nightmares? As you ponder, I’ll be looking over my shoulder, hoping I’m not attacked by Zeus.

#wwe #the undertaker #mick foley #sega #halloween #scary

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