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likeabulldigidigibombombombom · 6 months

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You’re so easy to read (Bang Chan x Fem!AFAB!reader)

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!AFAB!reader

Trope/Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, smut, slight fluff

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Protected sex (because these bitches are being safe today), cookies are NOT more important than safety! Be safe! Some awkwardness in the smut

Bangchan is not an idol in this fic. Reader and Bangchan are in University.

1,589 words (Idrk I'm bad at math)

Summary: Chan, who was your childhood best friend, moved away when he was 15. Plot twist! You two are accidental neighbors and he turns up to say hi. You talk for a bit. Stuff happens.

One sunny day, about 14 years ago, you were swinging on some playground swings. Another kid who looked 5 years old came up to you, holding out an ice-block. “Here!” He said, smiling brightly. “I have an extra and I’m not very hungry.” You took it and unwrapped the desert. “Thank you!” You smiled at him and asked, “What’s your name?”.

The two of you were an inseparable duo. You would do everything together. The teachers would sigh every year because you would end up in the same class, causing some extreme form of chaos. When you were in year 7, you two nearly burnt down the entire school because you pushed him a little too hard and he knocked over a bunsen burner. You both got suspended.

The only class that you would relax in was music. Something that both of you enjoyed and participated enthusiastically in. He was way better at it than you, but you never cared.

When you reached the age of 14, you developed a crush on him. You never acted on it out of fear of ruining your friendship. The year after that, Chan had to break the news to you that he was moving. It was to a city that was a whole flight away. After sharing a tearful goodbye and living four more years of your life, you never forgot about him. You may have lost his contact information after a year of not seeing him, but you never lost the memories, the laughter, and the feelings.

You had gone to a University far from home because you wanted to get away from some bad relationships that you had with people who lived close to your old home. You saved up money to get a dorm on campus with no roommates. It took a lot of hard work, but it paid off. You had just finished unloading all of your belongings when you heard a knock at the door.

You peeped through the keyhole and saw that it was a man holding cookies. Cookies are always more important than safety so you opened the door. “Uh, hi! My name is Chan and I live next door. I was wondering if you wanted some cookies?”

You looked at the familiar man. “Do I know you?” His eyes widened slightly. “Do I know you? Wait, what’s your name?” “Y/N. Nice to see you again Christopher.” You knew it annoyed him when you called him his full English name, but currently, he didn’t care. “Oh my gosh, I haven’t seen you in so long! How is everything going?” You suddenly remembered that he was standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies in his hand. “Do you want to come in?” “Sure!” He put the cookies down on your coffee table and hugged you before you both sat on the couch.

“So,” You shifted awkwardly in your seat trying to think of something to say. “Do you remember when we almost poisoned your Mum?” He laughed. “Oh my god! Yeah!” When you were both 10 years old, Chan’s mum asked you to bake a cake. She had poured all of the ingredients into measuring cups, and you two didn’t realise that she had poured the milk into a measuring cup as well. As you two searched high and low for milk, Chan found a bottle of bleach that he poured into the mixing bowl. Just before you were about to take a bite, Chan’s mum found the measuring cup that was still full of milk sitting on the kitchen bench. She asked where the milk was that you used and Chan pointed to the bleach.

“That wasn’t even the worst thing that we did!” He said. “We were such gremlins.” You stated. “That's for sure. I remember that when we were 14, you started acting really weird around me. I was so confused.” You felt your face heat up as you recalled the feelings for him that developed around that time. “Yeah, I can't even remember why.” You picked up a cookie and started eating it. “You look like you know.” “What do you mean by that?” “Well,” He leaned over to look closer at your face. “You’re blushing, and you don’t do that very often. You’re also avoiding eye contact, which you only do with people that you don't know, or when you’re lying.” Your face was burning at this point. You didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I think you do. You’re so easy to read. It’s cute.” The tips of his ears slowly turned red. “Now, can you please tell me why you were so awkward around me?” Butterflies began to flutter around your stomach. “I want to, but I also don’t.” You joked. “Come on, please” He wined. “I won't bite.” You sighed and spoke.

“I had a crush on you. A huge one.” He laughed. You cringed at what you had said, thinking that he thought it was stupid. “Oh, that! I already knew!” Your eyes widened. “What?” “Like I said before, you’re so easy to read.” “What are you? A psych major?” “No, a music major, pun not intended” “Your still jokes suck, they always have.” “And you’re still too scared to share your feelings.” There was silence. No one knew what to say. Chan spoke up.

“I bet I can guess what you’re thinking.” “Try me.” “Hmm… I think that you’re thinking about how embarrassing this all is, and how I'm making it worse by being a little shit.” “At least you’re self-aware.” “I can also tell that you still like me.” Your face turned crimson. “What do you mean?” You gave him an unconvincing innocent look. “Stop.” “Okay fine. Yes, I still like you.” “Good.” “Good?” “That means I can do this.”

He pressed his lips against yours. His lips were soft and his kisses were gentle. He wrapped his arms around you. The smell of his cologne was dizzying. His lips moved down to your neck as he trailed his way down to your collar. “Is this fine?” He asked, hesitating before taking off his shirt. You nodded as he lifted his shirt off, revealing his toned abs. The sight made chills run down your spine. “I thought you were blushing a lot before, but now…” He trailed off as your eyes met his.

He continued kissing you, but he was rougher this time. Your lips parted slightly, giving him room to slide his tongue in. You took off your shirt and he unclipped your bra and placed it on the floor. As you undid the fly of your jeans, he pulled out a condom from his pocket and placed it beside you. “You’re so beautiful.” He said while taking off his pants. “I’ve always thought that about you.” “So have I. You’re absolutely breathtaking.” His face turned bright red. “Okay I wasn't expecting compliments today, just give me a moment.” “How can you not expect compliments when you look like this?!” He was completely naked, standing in front of you. He hid his face in his hands. “Can we please get this over with before I die of embarrassment?” “Aw, you’re so cute.”

He kissed you again as his hand trailed down to your thighs. “Are you sure this is okay? Because I’m so hard, I seriously need to fuck you right now.” “It’s okay.” You squeezed his hand before his tongue rolled over your clit. You let out a sharp moan. He started stroking his dick while his tongue was deep inside of you. “Hey, Chan?” He looked up at you with wide eyes. He looked so pretty, the sight made your stomach do backflips.

“Could you maybe, uh, replace your tongue with your dick.” He laughed. “What the fuck was that delivery!?” “How was I meant to say it?” “I don’t know, maybe something a little more poetic.” He unwrapped the condom and rolled it down his cock. “Bang Chan sire, may you please place thine penis into my vagina?” He cackled. “I don’t even care anymore I just wanna be inside you.”

He thrusts into you with a grunt as you moan in pleasure. Your hips bucked as his pace slowly built, his dick was hitting your g-spot perfectly. He placed kisses around your breasts and stomach and moved up to suck on your neck. A singular soft kiss on your lips sent you over the edge. You let out a whine as you climaxed. Your walls clenched around Chan which caused him to whimper loudly and cum. You and Chan were both gasping for breath as he carefully pulled out of you.

“You are so pretty,” He continued, collapsing next to you. “And cute, and stunning, and perfect.” “And you are beautiful, and also all of those other words that you said.” He sat up. “Where are your cups? I’ll go get you some water.” “They’re on the top shelf in the kitchen, I can also show you where the towels are so you can shower.”

After you had both showered and cleaned up, you sat cuddled up on the couch watching a movie. “When I imagined meeting you again,” You began. “I never thought it would be like this.” He nodded. “I honestly hoped it would be like this.” “You’re such a simp.” “I’m your simp.” You rolled your eyes and tried hiding your smile underneath your hand.

“I can tell you’re smiling.” “What do you mean?” “You’re so easy to read.”

Author note: This is the first smut that I've ever written, so like always, constructive criticism is wanted! If you liked this, please follow me for more fanfics like this one <3

Masterlist

#skz imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #likeabulldigidigibombombombom #fanfic

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malereader-inserts · 4 years

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Greetings from the Avengers’ Base

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Avengers & Male!Reader Summary: How you got close to the original six Avengers Word Count: 1,291 Request: I saw ur post & thought... maybe how the reader got to know each avenger and how they became friends / a team. Some fluffy friendship shorts :3 Love ur writing, bo <3 A/n: FUCK CANON TIMELINE, WE’RE MAKING OUR OWN.

Being an orphan teenager with nothing better in your life going for you, it’s hard.

It’s strange when you’re a superhero and currently living at Avengers, under the parental care of Nicholas Fury, who has expressed that does not mean you can call him dad. Not that you wanted to anyway. You’ve been an Avenger since you were fourteen, when the first time the Avengers got together, you were part of the original group.

At first, it was daunting, no one understood why you were there and there were times you wondered why you were there too. You were too young and especially fighting for the world. You proved yourself, immensely, to the team. One by one they took turns to get to know you. They didn’t want to overwhelm you.

Tony took you under his wing, seeing a bright young man with a bright future ahead of him. He helped you with school work, he acted like a father to you. Just because the constant thought that ran through Tony’s mind was that he would be a better father than his father will ever be. He would drop anything, press meetings, conference, anything if you asked him to come play catch with him.

You looked up to Tony, you saw a side of him not many people see. You enjoyed hanging around his tower, you were fascinated with JARVIS. You watched how Tony would ramble with his robots, you got friendly with Dum-E.

You would always see Tony as your dad, in fact, Tony has been fighting for your custody, to finally adopt you. It shocked Pepper and Rhodey that he wanted to do this in his own accord.

“I’m gonna make you a Stark, one day kid.”

You smiled, leaning against his lab desk, “Good luck on that, papers are hard to convince even if you’re a billionaire.”

“A challenge worth defeating.”

Steve was the one the came around next, whilst he heavily disapprove you being part of the team, he started to get close to you when you were asking his time back in his era. You were heavily invested in your history class and when the 30s came as a topic, you knew who to ask about the times. It was nice to Steve, it allowed him to think about his days.

He likes the modern times, but he misses when times were simpler. It’s still hard for him to grasp new concepts. Then, you started to gush about his drawing that you begged him to teach you, you were a blast to be with. Whilst he taught you how to draw, you taught him the new stuff. You kept him young and never left him confused, for that he was eternally grateful for you. In fact, to this day you were still helping him out.

“So, what is tumblr?”

“Hell.”

“Wha-?”

“Just don’t touch it, Steve.”

Bruce was easy to get along when Tony was busy and you needed help on your science homework, Bruce was the next best thing. Whilst you were above average in intelligence, sometimes Bruce can lose you at times. But, once Bruce got over his fear of accidentally hulking out on you, he would talk non stop.

He’s actually a funny guy.

He can help you with Biology and Chemistry, even if you just wanted additional readings to get ahead of your peers, but when you come bouncing into the labs asking about Physics, you’ve never seen Bruce light up brighter than a Christmas tree. He gets way into it, it makes you laugh because, after a long rant - where has most definitely lost you, he looks at you asking if you got that.

To which you blankly stare at him and say no.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sorry, Bruce,” You apologised as he waves you off.

“It’s okay, I’ll go slower this time...”

“Oh god.”

Thor was confused to why a baby is on the team, after all, age is different between the two realms. You had to explain that you weren’t a babe, that you were a pre-teen and that you’re actually grown to an extent. Nevertheless, Thor had to adjust to Midgard life for a bit, that means you would experiment cooking on the poor God. You were alright at cooking at least for someone at your age.

But, there are days you feel devious where you would cook something that would be horrendous and make Thor taste it, sometimes it backfires on you and you would put together a really delicious meal, other times it becomes successful and you would see Thor’s nice exterior crumble a little bit before nicely saying it tastes good.

“How is it?”

“It’s something...” Thor says before smiling with food in his mouth, “It’s really good, (Y/n)!”

“Thanks!” Turning your back to giggle to yourself as Thor spits it in a napkin, only to give you a thumbs up when you turn back to look at him.

Clint and Natasha were different, they were constantly busy with work that they barely got to know you until they got stuck babysitting you. You had loudly got on the wrong side of Fury causing him to ground you and the two spies to look after you. It was their punishment went a mission almost went wrong.

You were pissy with them, like any other teenager going through teenage angst. You got on both the spies’ nerves, until one day you sat down and it seems like you calm down, you were easy for Clint and Natasha to handle until you heard swears and shouting coming from Nick’s office. You grin to yourself as you grabbed both the wrist of each spy and bucked it out of the room you were occupying.

Turns out, in your protest of being grounded, you decided to prank Nick. And because you couldn’t alone at the SHIELD base, you dragged both spies around with you. It got to the point that the spies were showing you hiding spaces and even helping you prank their superior.

At the end of the day, when Nick finds you in the room, he asked what you’ve been doing. You show him that you’ve been doing homework and drawing for Steve. Fury can’t prove you wrong as the two spies back you up.

“He hasn’t done anything wrong, Boss,” Clint says, forcing his mischievous smile to be concealed.

“It’s been a brat, but he’s been doing what we’ve told him to do,” Natasha backs it up.

You looked at him angelic like, “I’ve been good today.”

Nick looked annoyed, “Sure you have.”

So, as the years continued, more people joining the team, no one has gotten close to than the original six of seven members of the team. You’ve made friends with Vision, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey, but no one got as close to you as the six of them did.

So, here you stood with a party hat on your head, smiling to your family. You were living in the new Avengers’ base, it wasn’t the tower anymore, but it’s better to have somewhere to live. There are banners hanging about, saying happy birthday. Confetti and balloons sprawled on the floor, the lights are dimmed down and strobe lights flashing.

There’s a pile of presents, one that contains official adoption papers. Tony is holding the cake, it’s lit up with candles, the team is standing around or behind Tony, facing the celebrant, the kid who was heart and soul of the team.

“Happy Birthday (Y/n)!” They exclaimed.

You’re now eighteen, it’s been four years with the team, nothing can ruin your family, nothing can go any better than his. You’re happy, so they’re happy too.

“Make a wish!”

And so you did.

#Avengers #avengers imagine #avengers x male reader #x male reader #t #tony stark x male!reader #steve rogers x male!reader #Thor odinson x male!reader #bruce banner x male!reader #natasha romanoff x male!reader #clint barton x male!reader #platonic

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sifeng · 4 years

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Review: Love and Redemption

While I first started watching this drama out of pure curiosity of why people claimed it to be “the second most tragic drama” (after GMP, of course). While there are certainly aspects of this show that could be better, I find it fair to claim that it is a wonderfully made xianxia, and certainly one of the best in the genre within this decade.

Plot:

According to legends, the god of war saved the heavens in a deadly battle against the demon a thousand years ago. Both fell from the heavens and disappeared from the world. Chu Xuan Ji was born to the world lacking in the six senses which makes her rather clueless and inept. She befriends Yu Si Feng, the outstanding head disciple of Lize Palace who falls for her, thus beginning a xianxia romance that is entangled with the conspiracies from the past. The Zan Hua Tournament is being held in the Shaoyang Sect and its leader Chu Lei has two daughters - his trusted eldest daughter Chu Ling Long, and the youngest daughter Chu Xuan Ji who is lazy and terrible at martial arts. When Yu Si Feng and Chu Xuan Ji meet through a coincidence, they forge a friendship with each other. Yu Si Feng falls for Xuan Ji despite the harsh consequences that he must face as it is forbidden for students of Lize Palace to fall in love. Meanwhile, Ling Long clashes with Wu Tong after she criticized his foul actions at the tournament. In retaliation, Wu Tong accidentally injures Xuan Ji and gets expelled. Having recovered from her injuries, Xuan Ji promises to concentrate on cultivating. Four years later, Xuan Ji and Yu Si Feng meet again. Si Feng wears a mask due to a curse that can only be broken if he finds true love.

Cast:

Cheng Yi (成毅) as Yu Sifeng (禹司凤)

Yuan Bingyan (袁冰妍) as Chu Xuanji (褚璇玑)

Liu Xueyi (刘学义) as Hao Chen (昊辰)

Zhang Yuxi (张予曦) as Chu Linglong (褚玲珑)

My Opinions:

Plot (My Rating - A-):

First of all, I quite like the pacing in this drama. As the matter of fact, towards the end I actually feel like some things were rushed, not dragged out. It’s never a show that allows you to press the fast forward button, because 1. the tragic moments are super intense and dramatic, and 2. you don’t dare skip over the cute/funny moments because you know there won’t be many left. Second of all, I really appreciate that the writers of this drama really decided that they were going to make the most tragic drama ever. They really dedicated themselves to that craft, and I think they succeeded wonderfully. In terms of plot points, I absolutely loved the whole 9 lifetimes idea. It really brings out the tragedy and beauty of Yu Sifeng - he will do anything to protect those he loves, especially Xuanji. I would not complain if every single lifetime was made into a 45 minute episode, though that would be 405 more minutes of Sifeng being tortured by love on top of the infinite amount of minutes that already exist in this drama.

One problem I had, again, was with the misunderstanding that separated our two leads. I understand that this misunderstanding was one that had to do with the morals, backgrounds and fates with both of them, and thus was obviously meant to be a separating factor, but with the way the two characters were written, it felt odd that it created such an amount of misunderstanding. Overall, the plot was good, it didn’t have any revolutionary ideas, but it turned up the tragedy factor and had consistent pacing (if not too rushed towards the end). I’m sure there were probably a few plot holes here and there (one of which is why is it so easy to destroy that huge jar thing towards the end? If that’s what’s keeping the universe at balance, shouldn’t it take more than just one Yuan Lang to destroy it?), but overall, solid plot.

Characters (My Rating - B):

Sifeng is an absolute angel. He’s probably the most heroic lead in a drama who acts totally out of selflessness, who will help his loved ones no matter what pain it puts him through, and who can remain so kind, so unbothered mentally by whatever pain everyone puts him through. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have faults. He acts irrationally in the face of love and he often mistrusts the people around him. He’s a very complete character that not only evokes viewer’s sympathy, love and admiration, but also makes sense when taking into consideration his morals. He rarely does things that are out of character. If I were to rate just his character I’d probably give an A+.

But, there are other characters in this drama. I do like Xuanji, not as much as I like Sifeng, but I like her more than most drama leads. Despite the whole lacking six senses thing being a super confusing plot hole of sorts (like she clearly likes people in the beginning, Linglong, Minyan, her father, and dislikes people, Wu Tong, but isn’t she supposed to be unfeeling? Also she screamed out of fear when she fell using the teleport tool etc etc), I liked how she wasn’t stupid, but simply naïve. She’s actually a pretty smart person, especially in the first half of the drama, when she defended Sifeng against the Five Sects, and then Minyan after he was caught from Tianxu Tang. She didn’t let herself be manipulated by her father or Hao Chen, but rather thought for herself, took into account what she knew of their characters and came to the correct conclusion that the Five Sects were being stupid. I found myself a slight bit annoyed when she took the Five Sects side on the whole Mosha Xing issue, but given that the argument was no longer Sifeng vs. her father, but rather demons vs. humans, I can sort of understand why she didn’t trust him. Also, he did lie to her a bunch of times so, I suppose that adds to the fact. Though, she failed to use the trait that I used to really like, which was the ability to take logic and character into consideration. Did she really think that Sifeng never loved her? Because like, with all the evidence right there in her memory, I find it hard for anyone logical being to come to that conclusion. Also, I really like how she eventually became as loving of Sifeng as he was of her. She was literally willing to destroy the world, and herself, just to save him.

As I have said before, no one likes Hao Chen, and that’s good. He’s obviously written to be a character that you should dislike, not only because he gets in the way of Sifeng and Xuanji, but because he is clearly so biased against demons (despite the fact that most demons aren’t even bad at all); because he manipulates Xuanji/God of War so many times and doesn’t even feel guilty whatsoever; because he always says “for the three realms” and yet happens to do things that will completely destroy the peace of the three realms. There are things to like about him, like I am pretty sure that he does actually care about the three realms, and he does want there to be peace, but his ideology about peace, and love, and war are just so skewed that he ends up doing the opposite of what he wants to do.

Other characters were mostly likable, like Linglong, Zi Hu, Teng She, Minyan (most of the time), Xiao Yinhua, Ruo Yu (sometimes), Wu Zhiqi, etc etc. Some were evil for no apparent reason like Yuan Lang (why does he want to control the three worlds? What happened to him in the past for him to become this power hungry? If these questions were answered this character could be sooooo much more compelling) and Wu Tong (again, why did he start out so violent and cruel? I understand why he become a demon and helped them, but like does he not realize that it was clearly his fault first?) Also, the Heavenly Emperor seems like such an odd character. I understand he is the emperor and so he shouldn’t hold his relationship with Bailin and Xixuan above their faults, but like why was he so okay with like letting a totally faultless Xi Xuan endure several mortal trials all ending with painful deaths? And if that was because he was being a good and fair emperor, why does he let a game board decide fate? He also just stood there while the world was ending, and it took Xuanji to convince him to help her. I would like to know more about this guy and his complete lack of ability to care about anything.

So overall, while I think the main characters were written very well, with complex characteristics, some of the villains were just left tools to push forward the plot.

Acting (My Rating - A-):

So first of all, Cheng Yi’s portrayal of Yu Sifeng was absolutely amazing. He brought out all of Sifeng’s traits super well, from shyness initially to the cruelness Mosha Xing to his loving gaze at Xuanji to the heartbreak in tragic parts. I’m pretty sure he’ll become a star after this show, and can I just say, he totally deserves it!

(Like can you see the pain in his eyes?)

I was pleasantly surprised by Yuan Bingyan here. I really like how her acting style changed along with the new role she took, as Xuanji she was bright and cheerful, as God of War she was heartless and cruel. You can see in the nine lifetimes that the way she reacts to Sifeng’s death slowly changes. Her crying scenes need a little more emotion, but overall, a super stable performance.

Chemistry/Romance (My Rating - A):

The chemistry was just amazing. I find it interesting that their kisses slowly got more and more passionate as time went on.

I think part of the reason they have such good chemistry is because of the acting. Like oh my god their tiny reactions to when the other gets hurt really gives it away that they love each other.

The romance was also written nicely. While some people complain that Xuanji didn’t suffer enough, I feel like they don’t have to be equal in suffering in order for them to be a good pairing. You could tell from the very beginning that Xuanji liked Sifeng in a different way from other people. And the fact that they went through nine lifetimes together, each one when Sifeng died because of Xuanji... it just makes their romance so much more epic. Add that with good chemistry, good kisses, and good acting, well of course people love this ship so much! Xuanji would destroy the world for Sifeng, because the only person that matters in her world is Sifeng. Sifeng would put himself through ten lifetimes of torture just so Xuanji can be happy, because so long as Xuanji is happy, he will be happy.

Music (My Rating - A): this one is simple. Just listen to the soundtrack and you’ll understand my rating. I didn’t give it an A+ though, because while all the songs are great, there isn’t one in particular that I love.

Costumes (My Rating - A-): Sifeng’s costumes are really pretty. Some of Xuanji’s are pretty too, they get prettier as the show goes on, but some of the ones early on were kind of meh.

CGI (My Rating - A+): the best CGI in a cdrama. Just look at the scenes where Sifeng shows his wings!

Overall Rating: A-

Recommend For: People who like xianxia dramas and dramas that try to incorporate a lot of themes. People who don’t mind their heart breaking a thousand times while watching a drama. People who want to find a couple that you have to root for. People who like super epic guzhuangs with lots of subplots, mythology, reincarnations etc.

#cdrama #Cdrama Review #I actually like this more than AoL #cheng yi #成毅 #Yuan Bingyan #袁冰妍 #I love the otp okay #they have such amazing chemistry

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merakiaes · 5 years

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Worth The Wait - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader (platonic)

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This is not proof-read, so sorry in advance for mistakes and weirdly formed sentences. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 3246

Summary: After your sister Martha’s passing, you’re left with John and the children to pick up the pieces. And although your relationship with John ins purely platonic, Tommy can’t help but be jealous of your relationship.

You were the first out of your sister Martha and yourself to meet the Shelbys.

You were two years older than her, the same age as John, and you and he had been classmates back when you were still in school.

The Shelbys and your family had lived in the same town your whole life, you and John seeing each other in school every day but never really talking. You had only started talking when you were sixteen.

It was around that age him and his older brother Arthur started getting into trouble, always going around the streets and picking fights with people.

Most of the times they deserved it, but still, you weren’t one to just sit back and watch, running in to save the day every time.

The first time it happened, John had been so caught up in punching the other boy that he’d accidentally hit you in the face with his elbow when you had tried to pull him back.

He had stopped only when hearing the sickening crack of your nose, turning back to look at you with wide eyes as Arthur, too, had, finally pulled himself back to reality and was yelling at him to stop.

John had wasted no time in starting to apologize, but rather than cry, you had just held your bleeding nose and punched him right back, before dragging him and Arthur off to clean them up.

From that day forward, you and John were inseparable, tight as two peas in a pod, but only as friends.

People often mistook your close friendship for young love, and it annoyed Tommy to no end, as he had developed a crush on you almost the same instant he laid eyes on you that day, watching with curious eyes as you punched his little brother in the face and then proceeded to scold both him and Arthur like you had known them forever.

Already at that time, you had actually managed to shut them up, having them hang their heads in shame while you cleaned their cuts, and it made Tommy fascinated, as he had never seen someone have so much control over them before.

Not even their aunt Polly.

At that time, Tommy had still been calm, and although sometimes a bit reckless, not half as violent as his brothers. So, most of the times, save a few when he actually joined in on the fighting, he would be stuck cleaning up his brothers with you.

It was two months later that you brought John over for dinner at your house for the first time, despite having been at theirs several times. And it was then John met Martha for the first time.

They took a liking to each other in an instant despite her being two years younger than you, and while you and John stayed best friends and attached at the hip, they started hanging out without you eventually, their relationship taking a romantic turn.

This left you with Arthur and Tommy, but since Arthur was the oldest of the brothers and had to help out with Finn, it was usually just you and Tommy.

You would spend hours on Charlie’s Yard with the horses, and stay out until late at night, just sitting around smoking cigarettes and laughing to the point where you would clutch your stomachs and be unable to breath.

For years, you and Tommy beat around the bush of your feelings to one another, as both of you were oblivious to the other’s emotions.

Tommy finally gathered up the courage to tell you one day, but then the war struck, and he decided to wait to tell you until afterwards, not wanting to leave you with that kind of heartbreak, should you love him back.

And so they left, leaving you back in Small Heath with Martha, Polly, Ada and your nieces and nephews; John and your sister sure had been busy.

You thought a lot about Tommy while they were away, but not as much as you would have if you would have stepped up your relationship before he left.

Tommy, however, thought about you every day, keeping a locket with your picture in his chest pocket, close to his heart at all times.

While away, John would talk about Martha and their children all the time. Tommy wanted to talk about you too, but for some reason, he just found himself unable to admit his feelings out loud before he had told you first.

But when the war was over, John came home and Martha was gone, having passed away in the influenza only weeks before their homecoming.

John was absolutely heartbroken and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t take care of his four children without the touch of a woman.

And so, you stuck around him from the moment he came back home.

Everyday, you would go over to his house with fresh food, getting up early every morning to go to the shop and be able to pick out the best fruit and vegetables before they were gone.

You would make them breakfast in the morning, making sure they were all fed, that the kids were ready for school, and that John actually got out of bed and headed over to the Betting Shop.

You would then hang around the Shelby residence the whole day while Polly and the Blinders tended to their business in the back, but rather than actually socialize, you prepped lunch and dinner for everyone and made sure everything was clean and in order so that Polly wouldn’t have to, taking care of Finn and John’s kids until it was time for the latter to go home to their own house.

All day, you would fuss over John and bid to his every request like you were the one he had married, taking care of his children like you were their mother. At least that’s how Tommy saw it.

He wasn’t the same after the war. He barely got any sleep at night, lying awake and listening to the sounds of shovels digging against the walls with panic, fear and anxiety rattling his bones. He craved for your touch, to be in your arms, but all you ever saw was John.

You knew it sounded horrible, but since they got back from the war, you had barely even taken the time to notice the way it had affected the older two of the three veterans. The only one you ever focused on was John, and everyone could see how jealous it made Tommy.

Before the war, he had been able to keep his romantic feelings towards you hidden good enough, but now, with the turn for the worse that his personality had taken, he was like an open book.

The only ones who couldn’t see it, were you and John, you being too busy to keep everything balanced in his and the children’s lives, and him being too wrapped up in his own chaotic mind to notice.

And though you and John had never been more than friends, everyone were now starting to doubt your constant denies to any romantic involvement with each other. Even Polly.

But they didn’t know that when you had put your nieces and nephews to bed every night, John would lay with his head in your lap and cry about your sister, remembering all of their shared moments and blaming himself for her death.

In what way it was his fault that she caught the influenza while he was away, you couldn’t quite figure out. But then again, you guessed there wasn’t really any logic in heartbreak, which was also why Tommy had been acting like a downright asshole for the past few months.

And today, when John had called for a family meeting in the backroom in The Garrison, was no different.

“Alright, John.” Tommy said in a bored toned as he wandered inside to where the rest of you were already sitting, trying his best to keep his eyes away from him where you sat beside him and sitting down on the opposite side of the table and lighting a cigarette. “Get on with it.”

You instantly glared at him, not knowing what had gotten into him. John was obviously distraught and exhausted, and yet he treated him like dirt.

Polly glared along with you, putting a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “What’s troubling you?”

John took a shaky breath, fiddling with the box of matches in his hand, toothpick hanging from his lips and eyes red from tears and the lack of sleep. “Polly, you know what it’s been like since Martha died.”

Polly nodded, doing the sign of the cross and looking up into the ceiling. “God takes the best first.”

John’s leg bounced under the table with anxiety. He looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded, telling him to go on. “Well, the truth is, my kids have been running bloody rings around me. Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours.”

You looked at him with sympathetic eyes as he spoke, knowing more than anyone how exhausted he was. You wanted to keep helping him, but you couldn’t be with them at all hours every day anymore, as you had picked up a job as a nurse that would be taking time out of your days.

But Tommy didn’t seem to understand at all what he was getting at, only giving him an uninterested look and motioning to his aunt. “Pol, give him ten bob, some shoes.” He then turned to his younger brother, quirking a brow. “Is that it, John?”

“Tommy, we’d be better doing this without you.” Polly scoffed, before turning to John. “Now, what’s you point?”

John cleared his throat, straightened himself up and speaking in a much louder and cleared voice. “What the kids need is a mother. So, that’s why I’m getting married.”

Arthur and Polly shared a hesitant glance, looking between you and John with slightly narrowed eyes as they tried to figure the whole situation out.

Suspiciously, Arthur asked. “Does this poor girl know you’re going to marry her or are you going to spring it on her all of a sudden?”

“I’ve already proposed to her and she said ‘yes’.” John nodded, and when he looked at you for confirmation, to which you put a comforting hand on top of his while offering a smile, it was like all of the air was sucked out of the room.

With the suspicions that had been going around your inner circle in the last year, with the way you had been taking care of John and the children, everyone thought the same thing, and Tommy could feel his heart breaking in his chest right then and there.

Like so many times before, he found himself wishing he’d told you about his feelings before he left for France. But it was too late now.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, only leaning his arms forward on the table and looking down, hurrying to take a drag of his cigarette in a desperate attempt to rid himself of some of the anxiety that was quickly building up inside of him.

But it did absolutely nothing to soothe him.

Polly and Arthur both looked at the two of you with wide eyes and flabbergasted expressions.

“I-“ Polly paused, blowing out a breath and shaking her head slightly. “I guess we’ve been suspecting this for a while but we… We were never really certain.”

Arthur looked confused as ever, looking between you, John and Tommy, who was still glaring into the table. “Aye, always thought you had something going on with Tommy boy before we left.”

You and John both whipped your heads around to face each other, eyes growing wide at the realization of what they were saying, catching on immediately, but you were more shocked about what Arthur had said about you and Tommy.

While John looked at Polly with a horrified expression, you simply turned to watch Tommy with widened eyes, only then realizing the way he was glaring into the table.

“What?” John questioned, looking around at everyone in the room with a bewildered expression. “You thought- You thought I meant (Y/N)?”

Arthur and Polly shared a confused glance. “Didn’t you? We just assumed...”

“With he way she’s been ‘elping you…” Arthur joined in, both distraught.

At that, you pulled your eyes away from Tommy and exclaimed together with John.

“No!”

While John only shook his head violently, you scrunched up your nose. “That’s disgusting.”

At any other time, John would have for sure made a comment to that, but now he could only nod along. “We’ve been best friends since we were sixteen. I love ‘er like my sister.”

“Then who are you talking about?” Polly was even more confused now.

John looked to you, and you nodded to him, urging him to tell them.

“It’s Lizzie Stark.” He told them. “(Y/N) and I have never and will never be anything other than friends.”

By now, Tommy had looked up again, and you could feel his stare burning into your face, causing you to turn to meet his eyes.

He wanted to comment his brother’s choice of fiancée, but the only thing on his mind right then was you.

He had never experienced a panic like the one he had felt in the moment he thought you were the one marrying his brother. Not even the war could begin to compare to it.

And everyone else were just as relieved, finally not having to deal with Tommy’s sulky and bitter attitude now that he got another chance to come clean to you about his feelings.

John, however, as he had never thought about his older brother seeing you in a romantic way, only looked confused, eyes flickering between the people in the room. “Why did you think Tommy and (Y/N) was a thing?”

Polly and Arthur exchanged another glance, before turning to look at you and Tommy who had yet to look away from each other. John did the same, and realization finally lit up on his face, followed by narrowed eyes.

“Wait a minute…”

But before he could say anything else, Polly had whisked him out of his seat, clapping her hands and beginning to move out of the room. “Right.” She said. “I think we better let these two have some privacy. Go on, out you go.”

“But I-“ John tried to protest, but he was quickly pushed out of the room when Arthur joined his aunt’s side, the two managing to stop him from re-entering together and the oldest Shelby brother only smirking at the two of you before closing the doors, leaving you alone.

But neither of you had noticed any of it, as you were still starring into each other’s eyes.

Tommy’s face was a lot more relaxed now, the cigarette almost burned all the way to his fingers as he had forgotten all about it.

You could see it then in his eyes, the hidden feelings he had harbored for you for so long, just like you had for him. You had always felt some kind of connection with him, ever since you started hanging out alone when John first started courting your sister.

But even then, you had been too self-conscious and insecure to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, your opinion always being that he could get better.

He was Thomas bloody Shelby, for Christ’s sake; he could get anyone he wanted with a simple smile.

Yet, you couldn’t understand how you hadn’t seen it before, the memories of the countless of times you had caught him staring at you absentmindedly when you were younger now coming rushing back to the surface as you relived each and every one of those moments all in one.

Reality suddenly came crashing down, and you finally realized how different everything had been since they came back from the war.

Before the war, despite John still having been your best friend, it was Tommy who had kept you company each and every day. When he came back, you should have seen the impact the war had had on him.

But you had just been so caught up in keeping John sane that you had barely even acknowledged him during the whole year.

The realization filled you with guilt and caused a heavy frown to rise to your face, which instantly had you looking down in shame.

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing you could say, looking back up slowly to see Tommy looking at you with a confused expression.

“For what?”

You gave him a sad look. “For denying you my support when you came back. You needed it just as much as John did, and I should have seen it. But I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a small, sad smile, finally letting the cigarette go, crushing it onto the ashtray in front of him. “I suppose it’s mostly my fault. If only I’d told you before I left, maybe things would have been different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, knowing exactly what he was talking about. But still, you wanted to hear him say it, asking in a shaky breath. “Well, do you have anything to tell me now?”

Tommy looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything, before finally standing up, straightening his jacket and walking over to you.

You wasted no time in standing up to meet him, your breathing becoming heavier with the proximate position you were now in, your eyes locked together and faces so close your noses were only inches away from touching.

With patronizingly slow movement, he reached out a hand and tucked a small strand of hair behind your ear, his hands then coming to rest on your cheeks. And with a concentrated expression, he finally spoke.

“I love you, (Y/N). I have ever since we first met.”

Your lips tugged into a wide smile and you instinctively leaned into his touch, your eyes never leaving his as your hands came up to cup the hands on your cheeks. “I love you too, Thomas Shelby.”

A smile to match your own appeared on his face, and only a second later, your lips were pressed together.

The kiss was short and sweet, years’ worth of bottled up emotion spilling out in that one moment and leaving you weak at the knees.

Only when you pulled away did you notice the way his whole body was shaking lightly, a frown instantly rising to your face as you squeezed your hands tighter to his.

“You’re trembling.” You spoke in a mere whisper.

But it was loud enough for him to hear, getting him to let out a short laugh. “John’s engagement announcement gave me quite a scare.”

You laughed along with him, blushing slightly and cringing at the thought of people actually thinking you and John were a thing.

Tommy grew serious once again, caressing your cheeks gently with a small frown. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

But you could only shake your head with a wide smile, not able to care about anything other than him in that moment.

“It doesn’t matter.” You told him. “In the end, things that are meant to be always finds its way. It took time, but it was sure worth the wait.”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #finn shelby #john shelby #polly gray #john shelby x reader

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shillanseva · 4 years

Note

Mitchsen prompt: Role Reversal. Aubrey takes a liking to Beca from the first moment they met, ambushed her in the shower and then was incredibly flirty with her. Chloe is the Aca-Nazi hell bent of kicking Beca out of the Bellas. Bonus point if their personalities stay the same (Intense Aubrey, bubbly Chloe)

@madammayor28 Alright so I tried to write this prompt like four times before I finally got what I have now. I really liked this prompt so I wanted to do it right. I’m still not completely happy with it but I figured it was better to get it out there rather than drive myself nuts with it. So I hope you like it! Thanks for the prompt.

Aubrey Posen had two problems. The first of which was a tiny alt. girl by the name of Beca Mitchell who was the cutest pain in the ass that Aubrey had ever encountered. The second was her best friend and literal bubble of cheer Chloe Beale.

Now normally, Aubrey wouldn’t classify Chloe as anything other than a godsend. She was the best friend that Aubrey ever could have asked for, an amazing roommate, and just a genuinely good person. That is, until Beca arrived. Then it was like suddenly something snapped in the redhead, and the only thing Aubrey could liken the mood swings to was the possibility that Chloe’s body had been possessed by the spirit of Dolores Umbridge and Beca was a Gryffindor.

Chloe hated Beca. She hated Beca with a vehemence that shocked most anyone who had ever met the redhead. No one ever would have guessed that Chloe even had the ability to hate someone, let alone hate them as strongly as she hated Beca. Her best friend was Aubrey “General” Posen, one of the most easily disliked people on campus, and she still chose to hate Beca Mitchell, resident loner and newest weirdo at the campus radio station.

It was driving Aubrey up the wall. All Aubrey wanted to do was put together a winning acapella team. She wanted them to sing well and dance well, and she didn’t care if they got along outside of rehearsals as long as they kept their shit together during practice.

Beca had been doing her best to field Chloe’s anger. It had started at the activity fair. Beca had meandered by the booth and stopped when Chloe nearly smacked her in the face with a flier. And Chloe had been recognized immediately.

The year before, the Barden Bellas had made it to the ICCA’s after a grueling year under the leadership of Alice the Terror. She was a tyrant in every sense of the word with some added song and dance, and she blamed Chloe for their loss—probably the real start of Chloe’s problem. Chloe accidentally set the stage on fire during their last performance—something involving a broken heel and an unfortunate run in with a stage hand and his spot light. And Beca had seen the video and enjoyed it immensely. Needless to say, their first interaction didn’t go well.

Which sucked. At least as far as Aubrey was concerned, because Beca was cute. And Aubrey may have flirted with her after Chloe stormed off at the activity fair. And Beca had sort of dug it and might have given Aubrey her number—not that Aubrey would ever tell Chloe that. She would probably explode.

Aubrey had a serious toner for Beca though. The night of the activity fair when she had returned to her shared apartment with Chloe, Aubrey tried to convince Chloe that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Beca on the team. This had led to a stream of colorfully phrased insults at the brunette’s expense from her “ear monstrosities” and “emo makeup” straight down to her high school scene-kid chucks. Aubrey had liked the edgy look on Beca, but Chloe assumed it meant she should be in prison for arson or something. It was honestly shocking to Aubrey to hear the way Chloe ranted about Beca. She didn’t think Chloe had one judgmental bone in her body, but apparently Beca brought each and every one of them out. Aubrey had decided then to forget about Beca for Chloe’s sake.

And then there’d been that shower.

Aubrey was doing her best to forget about Beca. Her best, meaning she only sort of watched Beca on campus rather than full-fledged stalking her. She would catch glimpses of the freshman around campus usually with headphones in her ears or on her laptop. Sometimes she would be sitting with a guy she recognized as the other radio intern. Aubrey didn’t like when he was around, but knew she couldn’t let it bother her because she and Beca had spoken once, and Chloe’s friendship meant more than whatever fling she and Beca might have had.

She was trying to give up on talking to Beca again. She really was. So it’s not like she tried to end up in Beca’s dorm after her morning workout the week before auditions. She just hated the gym showers and Baker Hall was the closest dorm to Barden’s Wellness Center.

She had just finished rinsing the conditioner from her hair when she heard foot steps enter the locker room. The slap of flipflops against the floor made Aubrey pause and listen. She was technically breaking like ten rules by being there so she didn’t want to get caught by an RA with good timing.

Whoever had entered was humming softly to themselves. Aubrey recognized the song as Titanium, a David Guetta song if she remembered correctly. It had hit the top forty stations not too long ago and Chloe had taken a particular liking to it. Aubrey would often hear it through the walls of Chloe’s room at night when she was doing God only knows what.

The humming passed her and Aubrey returned to her shower. She pulled face wash from her shower caddy and closed her eyes enjoying the feeling of the soap against her skin, but when a voice rang out clear through the bathroom her eyes shot open.

“Shit,” she mumbled to herself as she tried to rinse the soap from her eyes. She shut down the shower and grabbed her towel before wrapping it around herself and shuffling out of the stall.

The voice that distracted her was coming from a few shower stalls over, and she went to stand in front of it. She knew she was being creepy. She knew it, and yet, she was still debating whether or not to talk to the girl behind the curtain.

“Hello?” a familiar voice said. Aubrey’s eyes widened as she realized she’d been caught. And then widened more when she realized who was singing.

“Beca?” Aubrey asked. Her heart stuttered for a second with hope. When Beca’s face appeared around the curtain, Aubrey’s smile beamed at the brunette. “You can sing?!”

The smile on Aubrey’s face was almost painful. Beca’s voice had been amazing. It was low and feminine and sort of gave Aubrey chills. Beca was slightly flushed and she wasn’t sure if it was from the heat of the shower.

“The tone of your voice is beautiful,” Aubrey said trying to back off on the excitement a little. She didn’t want to scare Beca off, especially not now that she knew Beca actually could audition for the Bellas if she could just convince her. “How high does your belt go? You have to audition for the Bellas.”

“Dude,” Beca said, smirking. “You need to breathe.”

Aubrey hadn’t even realized how quickly she was speaking and she snapped her mouth shut. She met Beca’s eyes and felt herself tense when she realized they were both very much naked. And Aubrey was very much naked standing in the middle of a dorm bathroom in a towel, completely out in the open.

Beca seemed to realize the same thing because her eyes dropped and slowly ran up Aubrey’s body and ended finally on the smirk that had settled on Aubrey’s lips.

“Like whatcha see?” Aubrey asked with a wink. Beca nodded dumbly and then shook her head when she realized what she was doing.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked.

“Looking for some action,” Aubrey responded like duh. Beca snorted and shook her head again. “Showering. The gym’s showers are gross.”

The sound of footsteps entering the locker room startled Aubrey into motion. Fearing the arrival of an RA, she pushed Beca back into the shower and ducked behind the curtain with her.

“Dude,” Beca said grabbing for anything and trying to fight the flip in her stomach that resulted from Aubrey incidentally pushing her against a wall. Aubrey set a hand over Beca’s mouth quickly.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Aubrey clarified. Beca glared at her from behind the hand, and Aubrey glanced down slightly smirking and raising an eyebrow at Beca. Her amusement grew as the slight flush on Beca’s cheeks broadened to her neck and ears.

Aubrey stood there thinking for a second. Beca really did have a lovely voice. She wanted to hear it again. Actually, she was afraid she would never hear it again. “Hey you were singing Titanium right?”

“You know David Guetta?” Beca said, eyes widening.

“What?” Aubrey said and shook her head slightly. “Have I been living under a rock?”

Aubrey watched Beca’s mouth fall a little bit and continued, “Look, I heard you singing. You sounded great. Could you maybe sing it again?”

“We’re naked,” Beca said, voice dropping incredulously. “In the shower. And you want me to sing for you?”

“It’s not like I asked you to sleep with me,” Aubrey breathed, annoyed. Though, judging by Beca’s heated face and sudden desire to look anywhere but at Aubrey, she’d say that maybe Beca wouldn’t have minded that. “Just sing it. I promise I’m not going to do anything crass.”

Beca sighed with a vocal groan, but relented after several seconds of laser-like eye contact with Aubrey. Her rich, earthy voice filled the small shower stall and sent shivers down Aubrey’s spine. She almost forgot to join her because she was so enraptured.

Beca’s eyes met Aubrey’s as the blonde turned the song into a duet. She felt her walls give way under Aubrey’s forest green eyes, and her breath hitched slightly. There eyes held each other for several seconds after they ceased singing.

“Wow,” Aubrey whispered. She hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment, but if she hadn’t spoken, there was no way she would have been able to stop herself from surging forward to kiss Beca—under normal circumstances, maybe not that big of a deal, but they were still naked. In the shower. After Aubrey had just forced herself into the poor freshman’s shower.

She held her breath for a second and looked away from Beca to calm down before meeting Beca’s eyes again. “Saturday. Bella auditions. You should be there.”

She left the shower as quickly as she dared, worried the stray RA might still be around—worried Beca might say no. That night, Aubrey had been happy, but anxious. If Chloe had noticed she didn’t say anything. She knew she was acting weird though, jumpy. She was waiting for Chloe to ask, and Aubrey knew she would never lie to Chloe which meant telling her about her morning with Beca.

The next week passed slow. Aubrey kept a look out for Beca around campus, but it seemed like the freshman was avoiding her. Aubrey didn’t really blame her, but it did leave her disappointed all the same.

When Saturday finally came Aubrey felt so anxious, she was surprised she wasn’t vibrating in place. With each passing audition, she grew more and more tense. Her jaw was sore from how hard she was clenching her teeth. When Justin announced that auditions were over, she could have cried. Chloe opened her mouth to say something to Aubrey, assuming that her friend was upset about their prospects, but when Aubrey’s eyes suddenly lit up, she snapped her mouth shut.

“Wait!” Aubrey yelled. “There’s one more.”

Chloe looked back to the stage, and felt her lip curl as a short brunette stepped out from backstage. She did a double take back to Aubrey who had suddenly relaxed, smiling back against her seat, and Chloe scowled further. Had Aubrey invited her?

“I didn’t know we were supposed to prepare that song,” Beca said with a grimace as she moved cautiously to stand in front of the pair of captains.

“That’s okay,” Aubrey smiled warmly at Beca. “Sing whatever.

“But Aubrey—” Chloe was cut off by a glare from her friend.

Beca stepped forward and then settled down onto the stage, crossing her legs. She pointed to a cup of pens that sat between Chloe and Aubrey, “May I?”

Aubrey nodded her head and Beca grabbed the cup and dumped the pens onto the table making sure that none of them fell onto the floor. When Beca sat back on the stage, she set the cup in front of her upside down and began a quiet percussive beat. Her alto voice joined the beat soon after.

Aubrey felt like she was hearing Beca for the first time all over again. She was mesmerized by the sound. She honestly felt like she could fall in love with Beca just by listening to her sing—a thought that startled her enough to look sideways at Chloe to make sure her friend hadn’t seen her going gooey-eyed.

Chloe was looking at Beca like she’d grown a third head. No way could this walking travesty have a voice like that. She was better than ninety-percent of the other singers they’d heard that day. It wasn’t acceptable. Beca didn’t even like acapella. And she definitely wasn’t Bella material.

When Beca finished her song, Aubrey was all teeth with a smile that stretched across her face. The sound of a throat clearing distracted her from the compliment she was about to bestow upon Beca, and instead she turned to Chloe who was handing a pink audition sheet to the freshman.

“You need a form,” Chloe said not looking up from her stack of papers that she was now slowly shuffling into a neat pile. “You didn’t prepare the audition song, so don’t expect to hear from us.”

Beca’s face fell, and Aubrey looked at Chloe. The red head gave her a look like “well she didn’t.”

They argued that day. Aubrey and Chloe had never fought before, but Aubrey fought for Beca on their team like she was trying to save a puppy from being euthanized—like Beca’s life depended on being in this group. And while maybe it wasn’t Beca’s life on the line, Aubrey didn’t even know how much Beca needed to be a part of the Bellas. Her dad had made her a deal that she needed to join a club or organization, and so far, the Bellas were the only thing she thought she could stomach. She certainly wasn’t going to spend an hour running in a circle with those kids she saw at orientation.

It took three hours before Chloe finally relented and agreed to recruit Beca. Aubrey had a point. They needed extra members in case they lost some along the way. Chloe just hoped Beca would be one of the ones that they lost.

Beca was surprised at how happy she was when Aubrey showed up at her dorm that night—even if she did seem like an axe murderer with that hood. Beca had actually sort of enjoyed being kidnapped by Aubrey, and not even in a kinky way. She liked the closeness of Aubrey’s hand guiding her from her lower back, and how Aubrey had to press close to Beca to pull the hood off later that night.

Aubrey knew exactly what she was doing too. She pressed herself Beca just enough to be misconstrued as innocent, just enough to be seen as Aubrey being a touchy kind of person—which she wasn’t. And Chloe noticed.

She had been watching the way Aubrey interacted with Beca. She had been watching how Aubrey stood just a little closer to Beca than any of the other Bellas when she pulled her hood off, how Aubrey had watched Beca during the anti-Treblemaker part of their oath as if trying to gauge Beca’s reaction, and how Aubrey had winked to Beca when she handed the freshman the goblet of wine when all was said and done. Aubrey had a crush but she wasn’t going to let that ruin her last chance at a national title.

Chloe decided to give her best friend the benefit of the doubt. It was hood night. Aubrey could work off her frustrations, and hopefully forget about Beca. That hope was unfortunately dashed when Chloe caught sight of Beca talking to one of the new Trebles and Aubrey watching from several feet away as she pretended to listen to Amy. She couldn’t tell if Beca was flirting with Jesse or not, but it didn’t seem to matter because his existence was all it took to rub both Chloe and Aubrey the wrong way, though for entirely different reasons.

It took an hour and at least three drinks before Aubrey finally got up the nerve to approach Beca. She did so quietly, coming to stand beside the equally quiet freshman without a word. Beca had spent most of the last hour watching others enjoy themselves from the sideline and a half full red solo cup rested in her hand.

“I’m glad you showed up,” Aubrey said quietly. “I didn’t—I didn’t think you would.”

Beca didn’t respond right away, choosing instead to follow Chloe’s figure across the party as she went to replenish her drink. “I wasn’t going to.”

Aubrey nodded. “But you did.”

Beca smirked at her. “When a hot blonde shows up naked in my shower, begging, I try not to disappoint.”

“Do you often have hot blondes show up in your shower?” Aubrey said stepping closer to Beca. Aubrey knew she was a little drunk, but damn if Beca didn’t make her feel a little light headed anyway. She wanted to be close to the brunette.

“Only ones that force me to sing,” Beca laughed, bumping her hip against Aubrey’s. It was enough to make the blonde feel a little off-balance so she reached out to grab Beca’s arm. Beca smirked at Aubrey. “Had a little to drink, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” Aubrey smiled and straightened herself. She was very close to Beca now. Aubrey’s front was up against Beca’s arm which she hadn’t released. “I’m really glad you came.”

“I’m kind of glad I came too,” Beca said leaning back against one of the concrete seats. She felt awkward saying it. She didn’t do emotions. Even admitting she was happy to be at a party felt too intimate.

“Let’s go dance,” Aubrey said suddenly yanking Beca off her seat by her arm. She yelped as she tried to keep up with Aubrey down the stairs.

“You do realize my legs are only like two feet long right,” Beca yelled after her. “Holy shit, dude. You’re gonna break my legs.”

“You’re fine,” Aubrey said as she reached the bottom of the stairs and caught Beca on the bottom step. “Just means I get to hold onto you,” she finished with a wink. Beca snorted. She wasn’t drunk enough for this yet. She told Aubrey to hold on for a second while she got herself a new drink and downed it almost immediately, then got another.

“I needed to get on your level,” Beca said as she returned to Aubrey. Without an answer, Aubrey pulled her out into the crowd and laid her arms over Beca’s shoulders. After about five songs, both women were seriously feeling the effects of their drinks thanks to Stacie who had been passing around shots to the other Bellas. Aubrey still managed to drink twice as much as Beca though. With each song, Aubrey and Beca only got closer and closer to each other until Aubrey’s back was pressed against Beca’s front and they were rocking slowly against each other to the beat of the song.

Beca was feeling incredibly warm by this point. Aubrey was making her feel things that she knew she was better not feeling about her new captain.

“God you’re sexy,” Beca whispered to herself then quickly glanced to Aubrey’s face to see if the blonde had heard her. Apparently, she had, because Aubrey was smirking at Beca. Here eyes were half-lidded and had darkened considerably since the beginning of the night.

“You know,” Aubrey said as she turned around. She leaned in against Beca and whispered next to her ear. “We could head back to my place.”

Beca shivered at Aubrey’s hot breath against her ear. She wanted nothing more than to say yes. She really did, but Aubrey was drunk. It wouldn’t be right. So no, she couldn’t. But she could at least make sure that Aubrey got home safe, so rather than answer, she grabbed Aubrey’s hand and tugged her out of the crowd. Aubrey took the lead soon after they left the amphitheater and pulled Beca close to her. She wrapped an arm around Beca’s waist and leaned heavily into her.

They reached Aubrey’s apartment after about fifteen minutes of walking. Luckily it was a cool, clear night and there was no rush. Beca quite enjoyed the closeness of the walk, even with Aubrey occasionally stumbling into her. She wasn’t exactly sober herself so she would sometimes stumble right back.

Aubrey fumbled with the keys in her hand until she managed to get them into the lock and push the door open. The apartment was neat and simply decorated. Beca thought it fit Aubrey’s personality.

“You have a roommate?” Beca asked, curious.

“Yeah,” Aubrey said as she collapsed onto the couch and kicked her shoes off into the wall. She let out a soft “oops” in response. “Chloe. She probably won’t be home tonight.”

“You live with Chloe?” Beca asked. Shit. She really shouldn’t be there then. “I should go then.”

“Why?” Aubrey pouted.

“Bree…” Beca said. Aubrey grinned at the nickname. “Chloe hates me. I probably shouldn’t be here when she gets home.”

“She won’t be home tonight,” Aubrey said as she grabbed Beca’s arm and pulled her down onto the couch. “Please stay with me.”

“That damn pout,” Beca said to herself. “Fine. But Aubrey…”

She wasn’t sure how to even say it without it sounding like a rejection. She liked Aubrey. There was no question about that. But she definitely couldn’t do anything with her while she was drunk.

“But Beca…” Aubrey mimicked.

Beca bit her lip, which was probably a mistake because it immediately distracted Aubrey.

“Aubrey,” Beca said pulling back from the blonde to sit on the couch and face her. “I’ll stay tonight. But you know we can’t do anything right?”

“Why?” Aubrey said quietly. She looked sad.

“You’re drunk, Bree,” Beca explained. “It wouldn’t be right. If we sleep together, I want to remember it. I want you to remember it.”

Aubrey contemplated that idea for a second. “You have to go on a date with me then.”

“Oh really?” Beca said smirking. “And what makes you think I want to date you?”

“Oh please,” Aubrey snorted. “You drooled when you saw me in that shower.”

“I liked what I saw,” Beca said. She smiled at Aubrey. A real genuine smile. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

Beca spent the night on Aubrey’s couch after Aubrey decided there was no way the tiny freshman was going to walk alone across campus where all those frat boy predators lurk. Beca thought she was ridiculous, but was also sort of flattered that Aubrey cared about her safety. She woke the next morning to a cup of hot coffee next to her on the coffee table and a note that let her know Aubrey had gone on a run and she was welcome to her fridge.

She had no idea how Aubrey could be out running after the amount of alcohol she’d consumed the night before. Beca herself stayed huddled on the couch with her cup of coffee clutched to her chest. She wasn’t a morning person, and she already sort of loved Aubrey for making her coffee. She figured she should probably leave soon though. The first Bella rehearsal was that afternoon and Beca needed to wash the booze out of her pores.

She left a responding note for Aubrey and then began the trek back across campus. She was ready to go to rehearsal about twenty minutes before she actually had to be there. She had no clue what to expect from an acapella rehearsal, especially if Chloe was in charge.

To her relief, it seemed like Aubrey ran most of the rehearsals for the Bellas. Though what they did that afternoon could barely be considered a rehearsal. It was more like gym class. They ran laps and stairs for almost an hour. Beca felt like she was dying, but was highly amused by Aubrey slapping her ass every time she passed by.

Beca felt Chloe’s eyes on her the whole rehearsal. It was like Chloe was trying to melt her brain. Her hopes for Aubrey directing all of the rehearsal were later dashed when Chloe took over to start teaching them choreography. Chloe was harsh. She made them repeat sequence after sequence until Beca felt like her feet were going to start bleeding. And she knew that Chloe was teaching them the same dance routine that the Bellas had performed the year before. It had her constantly rolling her eyes.

“Roll your eyes any more and they’ll roll out of your head,” Chloe had said reacting to Beca’s disdain.

“You sound like my father,” Beca said as she moved through the next segment of choreography.

“At least I don’t dance like your father,” Chloe responded with a glare.

Beca snorted. Honestly, she kind of liked arguing with Chloe. Pissed off Chloe’s face matched her hair. “Yeah, you’re worse,” Beca said.

“Ladies,” Aubrey warned as she walked over to Beca. She stood behind her and grabbed her arms as she moved through one of the more complicated hand motions and guided her through it. She dropped her mouth close to Beca’s ear and whispered, “We need to decide when I get to take you on our date.”

Beca chuckled and turned her head slightly to look at Aubrey. “You think I’m still gonna go on a date with you after you made me do cardio?”

“Maybe I have another workout in mind,” Aubrey said huskily into Beca’s ear. A shiver dashed down Beca’s spine.

“Tease,” Beca muttered.

“Alright ladies,” Chloe called from behind them. “Let’s call it a day. I expect to see you here tomorrow evening on time and ready to run.”

“Is she always like this,” Beca asked Aubrey.

“No.” Aubrey frowned. “She wasn’t like this until after nationals last year. If anything, I would have been the hardass normally.”

“I bet it’s hot when you boss people around,” Beca smirked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Aubrey said. Beca just nodded, liking the idea more than she would have thought. Aubrey laughed.

They were interrupted when Chloe cleared her throat behind Aubrey. “We need to plan tomorrow’s rehearsal,” she said noticing how close Beca and Aubrey were standing.

“Right,” Aubrey said. She gave Beca a sad look. “I’ll text you later okay?”

Rehearsals followed that pattern for the next couple weeks as they approached their first performance. Beca would piss Chloe off until inevitably Aubrey would step between them and distract Beca with mild flirting until Chloe moved on. Aubrey and Beca were able to plan a few dates in that time. Nothing fancy as Beca just wasn’t that kind of woman. She preferred laid back where she could get to know Aubrey without the pressure of dressing up or worrying about her image. They still hadn’t said anything to Chloe though. Aubrey couldn’t imagine how her best friend would react. She’d be angry that’s for sure. But Aubrey knew that Chloe wasn’t dumb. She knew that Chloe had noticed something was different. She just wasn’t sure if she’d noticed what.

Their first performance was a disaster that culminated in Chloe revealing that she had vocal nodules, a condition that had made Aubrey gasp in concern. Beca felt bad for the redhead. If they were that bad than it made returning to the ICCA’s that much harder for Chloe. And even though Chloe hated her, Beca kind of understood why she was such a bitch—didn’t mean she was going to lay off on her though. Chloe needed to be willing to work with the rest of the Bellas. They needed to be themselves, not the old Bellas.

By the time regionals came around, Beca and Aubrey were attached at the hip whenever Chloe wasn’t around. Beca tried not to let it bother her, but she knew Chloe was important to Aubrey and she couldn’t help wondering if Aubrey was ashamed of dating Beca. Aubrey had noticed that Beca seemed a little more reserved now whenever Chloe was around. She bickered less with the redhead and made fewer passes at her girlfriend-not-girlfriend.

Regionals seemed to make things worse for Beca. After throwing a punch to protect Jesse, and then tossing a trophy through a window, Beca found herself tossed into a jail cell. And because Aubrey couldn’t let Chloe know that she was basically in love with her rival, there were very few ways that Aubrey could help Beca. Jesse ended up being the one to call Beca’s father and bailed her out.

When Beca got back to her dorm that night and found the Bellas had camped out on her bunk at first she’d been happy, but then she’d fought with Chloe. And this time she wasn’t even trying to fight with Chloe, she was trying to help. They needed a new set list, even Aubrey could agree with that, but Chloe was adamant that they return to nationals the same way that they’d gotten there the first time. Beca’s mixes were personal so the fact that she was willing to share them meant a lot. And then she got completely rejected.

And that just added to the rejection she was already feeling when Aubrey hadn’t been the one to bail her out, but the guy who she was constantly rejecting. Beca could feel herself pulling away from the group—feel herself pulling away from Aubrey. It made everything that happened at semi-finals sort of inevitable.

“I told you she wasn’t a Bella.” The words had echoed through her mind like a gun shot in a canyon.

“Chloe don’t—” Aubrey started.

“It’s okay Aubrey,” Beca said. The hurt was evident in her eyes and she could feel the tears welling. “I mean, it’s not like you ever wanted me here anyway.”

Beca left before she could hear any of the words that followed. She knew it was a bad idea to join the Bellas. She knew it was a bad idea to even become friends with any of them, so why had she even bothered. It was obvious enough by how Aubrey kept her as a dirty little secret that she’d only wanted her there for her voice.

Beca knew she was being a little dramatic, and didn’t completely believe everything she was thinking, but that little voice of self-doubt was yelling at her for being stupid enough to get her into this situation in the first place. Not even Jesse was able to cheer her up any. Normally the overexuberant Treble was just ridiculous enough to crack a smile from Beca, but now Beca had completely blocked herself off from everyone. She ignored every text Aubrey sent her and any text form any of the Bellas. It killed her a little to do it, but she thought it might hurt more to talk to them.

The Bellas didn’t fair much better. Aubrey had shut herself away in her room after losing Beca, and Chloe couldn’t figure out what had happened. It took two days for Aubrey to finally open up to Chloe that she and Beca had been dating since basically hood night and now she’d lost her because she couldn’t bring herself to tell Chloe about them.

While Chloe couldn’t understand the appeal of dating Beca, she felt sort of terrible for the role she’d played in their breakup. Aubrey admitted they never really put a title on their relationship so it wasn’t really a breakup, but none of Aubrey’s breakups had ever hurt as much as Beca and her’s. Chloe loved Aubrey so that Aubrey was so miserable made her feel incredibly guilty.

It surprised the hell out of Beca when Chloe showed up at her dorm several days after semis. There had been a knock at the door, and Beca had gotten up and answered only to be pushed out of the way as Chloe marched into her room.

“Look,” Chloe said. “We don’t have to like each other. We don’t even need to get along, but you can’t block Aubrey out because you hate me.”

Beca blinked. She didn’t think Aubrey would ever tell Chloe about them, but she swallowed down the surprise and processed every thing Chloe had said.

“I don’t hate you?” Beca said and watched the surprise flicker across Chloe’s face. “Not completely anyway.”

“Does it matter?” Chloe asked raising an eyebrow. “Aubrey loves you and she’s locked herself in her bedroom crying because you won’t listen to her apology.”

“Aubrey loves me?” Beca asked, eyes wide.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Chloe responded. Beca shook her head.

“Aubrey wouldn’t even tell her best friend about us,” Beca said, and Chloe nodded.

“Well we didn’t exactly make that easy on her did we?” Chloe laughed.

“I guess not,” Beca said. “Look I’ll talk to her. But I’m going to do it when I’m ready.”

Chloe nodded and turned around to leave the dorm but paused for a second. “Beca?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t hate you either,” Chloe said then turned and left the room.

Beca still hadn’t talked to Aubrey when she got the text from Chloe that the Bellas were moving on to the finals because another group was disqualified. Beca debated for hours whether she would show up to that rehearsal or not. Chloe’s words still stung as they ricocheted through her mind. Maybe she really wasn’t a Bella. And she wasn’t sure she was ready to see Aubrey.

But she showed up anyway—an hour late. And she arrived to mass chaos. A puddle of vomit sat in the middle of the rehearsal space and she could only guess that Aubrey had gotten too anxious. Chloe and Aubrey were wrestling over the Bella pitch pipe and the remaining girls were watching in shocked awe.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Beca yelled as walked further into the room.

“Beca?” Aubrey reacted immediately. She sat up and released the pitch pipe from her hand which Chloe snatched up.

“Um, hey,” she said quietly.

“What are you doing here?” Aubrey responded.

Beca tapped her foot against the floor and shifted her weight. “Chloe texted me.”

“Chloe?” Aubrey turned shocked to her best friend. As did the rest of the Bellas.

“What?” Chloe said. “We would be a person short with out her… and, while it pains me to say this, she might have some points. We need to change up our style if we’re going to win ICCA’s. And if we’re going to do that, we need Beca.”

Beca nodded once at the redhead understanding that this was Chloe’s olive branch. They might never get along completely, but they could work together for a common goal.

“Alright Beca,” Aubrey said taking a few steps closer to the freshman. “What do we do?”

“Um, maybe not here,” Beca said grimacing as she pointed toward the puddle of vomit that lay on the floor not too far from the group.

They agreed to meet later that evening in the empty pool where they’d had the riff off. It was the first time the group had really listened to each other.

Later, when all the Bellas had arrived, Beca circled them together and made eye contact with them all.

“Alright,” she said. “Aubrey, would you please pick a song?”

“Bruno Mars, Just the Way You Are,” she said. She didn’t even hesitate which surprised Beca some.

“Chloe, mind taking the lead?”

The senior nodded and began the opening lines. Beca joined her several lines later with Just a Dream before passing the solo off to Aubrey. She directed the group through the songs starting different vocal beats and rhythms to fill it out. She knew there was a meaning to the songs she and Aubrey chose, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to think too hard about it. She knew Aubrey was watching her as she sang. And she knew Aubrey wanted her to look at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet the blonde’s eyes. Everything still felt too fresh, and she wasn’t sure where she stood with Aubrey. When they finished the song, they agreed to meet in two days after Beca had time to create a set list and they all went their own ways—except Aubrey and Beca.

They stared at each other for several seconds, neither sure which was meant to break the silence. Aubrey was the first to break.

“I’m sorry,” she said and took several steps towards Beca. “I should have told Chloe, and I should have stood up for you.”

“Aubrey,” Beca said softly. “You don’t need to apologize for that. I should have been more understanding—I just got insecure. I didn’t want to be your secret. I wanted to be your girlfriend…”

“You should have been my girlfriend,” Aubrey said. “I would be proud to call you my girlfriend.”

Beca chuckled softly, but tears were pricking at her eyes. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“Hey,” Aubrey said moving over to Beca and pulling her into a hug. “You’re not stupid. We both made mistakes. And we’re both kind of emotionally stunted.”

“Got that right,” Beca mumbled. She pulled away from Aubrey and missed her warmth immediately. “I need to apologize too. This would probably be better directed at Chloe, but I’m sorry for what I did at semis. And I’m sorry I took out my insecurities on you.”

“Becs,” Aubrey said. When Beca looked up at Aubrey, she surged forward and captured Beca’s mouth with her own. Beca’s lips moved against Aubrey’s in a dance she knew better than any other. God, had she missed kissing Aubrey. She knew she missed it, but she didn’t know how much she missed it until Aubrey was kissing her.

Beca threaded her hands into Aubrey’s hair and pulled the blonde closer while Aubrey’s hands landed on Beca’s hips grasping at the material of her shirt. When Aubrey nipped at her bottom lip, Beca gasped and welcomed Aubrey’s tongue eagerly into her mouth. She hadn’t even realized Aubrey had been walking them backward until Beca felt her back hit the far wall of the empty pool and she let out a soft groan. Her stomach was doing back flips over the way Aubrey’s lips moved on hers and the way her body pressed up tightly against her.

Their lips slowed down to lighter kisses and they just enjoyed the feeling of each other. Eventually they needed to break for air as both women were feeling lightheaded. When they pulled back, Aubrey rested her head against Beca’s, neither opened their eyes until Beca whispered something to Aubrey and then Aubrey’s eyes had shot wide open and she squeaked a high pitch “what?”

“I said—” Beca rolled her eyes. “I said I love you.”

Aubrey’s mouth flopped open, but Beca could see the twinkle in her eyes—the happiness in her eyes.

“I don’t need you to say it back,” Beca said quietly. “I just had to get that out of my system. I know you might not feel the s—”

Beca was cut off by lips once again covering hers, but this time softly and chastely. Just a simple touch of lips. It made Beca hum at the sweetness of the gesture.

“Beca,” Aubrey said opening slightly glazed green eyes to meet Beca’s deep navy blues. “I love you too.”

#pitch perfect #mitchsen

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spaceshipkat · 5 years

Text

Myth & Kat Read WS

before i dive in, a quick request: please do not send this to the author, as this is not meant for her but for any and all readers. we censor the name of the author, the characters, and the book title to help prevent her from accidentally stumbling across them thanks to tumblr’s fucked algorithm. my inbox is always open for anyone with reactions, questions, or thoughts as i read, so feel free to hop in there if you don’t want to reply directly to this post.

if you don’t want to see spoilers, block the tag “ws spoilers” and Myth and i are both using the tag “myth & kat read ws” to keep everything organized. we’re calling this a practice run for when we read CCity together when it releases next year, so bear with us while we figure out what works best. Myth’s post on WS can be found here, and her comments will be at the bottom of this post.

and to preface this, i go into every chapter with an open mind, but (as Myth points out) i did get more annoyed the more i read, so make of that what you will

and with that out of the way...

Chapter 1

this is a multi-POV book and chapter 1 begins with Nadya peeling potatoes. riveting. apparently people really like this beginning, so i’ve heard, but eh.

also, this is a personal nitpick, but i’m not the biggest fan of authors using the character’s first and last name when introducing them at the very beginning of the book, a la:

Nadez/hda Lap/teva glared up at the mountain of potatoes threatening to avalanche down over the table.

we’re five 2-3 sentence paragraphs in and already we’re supposed to feel fear for what’s happening, despite the only normal to exist so far is that Nadya is peeling potatoes and grumbling about the clerics who care for her (and who we’re supposed to care for later on, when Nadya starts worrying about their deaths, despite the fact we’ve met none of them)

“Did you hear that?” Konst/antin acted like she hadn’t spoken. His paring knife hung limp in his fingers as he listened.

grammar. why.

“Did you hear that?” Konst/antin asked, freezing with his paring knife pressed to a potato.

was that so difficult?

She tried to be glib, but the idea of the High Prince anywhere near the monastery made her shiver. He was rumored to be an extremely powerful blood mage, one of the most terrifying in all of Trana/via, a land rife with heretics.

ahhh i love a good exposition dump first thing. this could easily have waited until later on, when the High Prince (why is that capitalized) actually makes an appearance. at the very least, she could’ve just left it as “but the High Prince was rumored to be an extremely powerful blood mage, making her shiver at the thought of him attacking the monastery.” it’s not good, but better (as always, when i rewrite things, i try to stay with the author’s words rather than using ones of my own, simply to show that it can be done with their words--it’s not the words’ fault, but the author’s). plus, we know nothing about the monastery or why Nadya is even there, apart from peeling potatoes and making bad potato jokes that i’m sure ED hoped would add some levity to the book, so we have no reason to feel worried about the High Prince making a surprise appearance.

Filling Father Alexei’s washing bowl with a red dye that looked like blood, though, that was what had done them in.

Blood wasn’t a thing to be made light of, not in these times.

the chapter should’ve started with this prank so we’d 1) have more of a connection to Nadya and Kostya’s friendship, 2) see more of the world-building in the sense of how important blood is, and 3) actually meet one of the clerics we’re supposed to care for. also, please just write it like this, ED:

“Filling Father Alexei’s washing bowl with a red dye that looked like blood had done them in.”

again, not great, but it’s better

Father Alexei’s rage didn’t end in the cellars. After they scaled Potato Mountain—if they scaled Potato Mountain—they still had hours’ worth of holy texts to copy in the scriptorium. Nadya’s hands were already cramping just thinking about it.

this? this isn’t enough to make us care for him. in fact, the way Nadya talks about him makes us not care about him, even though we’re supposed to worry about him later on in this chapter and the next. (Potato Mountain just hurts my brain. is this supposed to pass for humor?)

Cannons only meant one thing: blood magic. And blood magic meant Trana/vians. For a century a holy war had raged between Kaly/azin and Trana/via. Trana/vians didn’t care that their blood magic profaned the gods. If they had their way, the gods’ touch would be eradicated from Kaly/azin like it had been from Trana/via. But the war had never reached farther than the Kaly/azin border. Until now. If Nadya could hear the cannons, that meant the war was slowly swallowing Kaly/azin alive. Inch by bloody inch it was seeping into the heart of Nadya’s country and bringing death and destruction with it.

why couldn’t she have found a better way to tell us this than an ill-timed info dump? we’re supposed to be worrying about an attack (with all the number of times cannons are mentioned) and yet here we’re being given a lesson.

also, i’m particularly not fond of these four sentences in particular:

But the war had never reached farther than the Kaly/azin border. Until now. If Nadya could hear the cannons, that meant the war was slowly swallowing Kaly/azin alive. Inch by bloody inch it was seeping into the heart of Nadya’s country and bringing death and destruction with it.

for one, fragments hurt me on a physical level when they’re used this often, and for another, i don’t care that the war has come, i don’t care that Nadya’s country is being invaded, i don’t care that Trana/vians want the gods eradicated. i’m typically fond of third person, and usually prefer both reading and writing it, but this is all happening so distantly that i might as well be hovering over the entire scene.

Nadya looked at Kostya, whose gaze was flint-eyed but fearful. They were just acolytes with kitchen knives.

they both actually hold their own in the fight, so no idea why this is even here besides trying to build up suspense.

Kostya grabbed her hand and shook his head slowly, his dark eyes solemn.

“Don’t do this, Nadya,” he said.

“If we are attacked, I will not hide,” she replied stubbornly.

“Even if it means a choice between saving this place and the entire kingdom?”

now would be a good time for exposition. if you have to use a reader’s lack of knowledge to build up suspense, especially in chapter 1, especially when you’re bouncing around the truth that anyone would have naturally thought of first irl, you need to revisit your stakes.

so a couple paragraphs before this:

She would protect the only family she had; that was what she was trained for

she was saying that she and Kostya were just acolytes with kitchen knives. if that’s the case, what have they been training in? (and no, i’m still not connected to the monastery at all. we’ve only seen Potato Mountain, the kitchen, and the cellar, though neither of the latter two have been described as clearly as the former, which is a problem bc they’re just floating heads rn)

Nadya had been told the protocol countless times. Move to the back of the chapel. Pray, because that was what she did best. The others would go to the gates to fight. She was to be protected.

we are seeing none of this, fwiw, and i still feel no fear

Can I have that?” Nadya reached for Anna’s dagger. Anna wordlessly handed it to her. It felt solid, not flimsy like the paring knife.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Anna said.

Kostya shot Nadya a pointed look. In the monastery’s hierarchy, Anna—as an ordained priestess—outranked Nadya. If Anna ordered her to go to the sanctuary, she would have no choice but to obey.

if Nadya isn’t supposed to fight, why would Anna hand over the fucking blade in the first place? Nadya also takes off to fight and Anna does nothing to stop her.

Nadya once wished she could blend in with the other Kalyazi orphans at the monastery, but the truth was, for as long as she could remember, when she prayed the gods listened. Miracles happened, magic. It made her valuable. It made her dangerous.

why can’t she blend in? as far as i know, she doesn’t have “i can talk to gods” tattooed on her forehead, so there’s no reason she couldn’t blend in. and for that matter, we’ve met only three people and heard of two more, so how are we to know that Nadya really doesn’t fit in?

this:

To the left ran a path leading to the men’s cells; to the right, another trailed off into the forests where an ancient graveyard that held the bodies of saints centuries gone was kept by the monastery.

should’ve been written like this:

A path on her left led to the men’s cells, the one to her right leading through the forest to an ancient cemetery holding every saint who had once lived in this monastery.

and this:

It snowed most nights—and days—on the top of the Baikkle Mountains.

should’ve been this:

Rarely did it stop snowing on the Baikkle Mountains.

still not great, but still better

Nadya scanned for Father Alexei, finding him at the top of the stairs. The priests and priestesses who trained for battle waited in the courtyard and her heart twisted at just how few of them there were. Her confidence faltered. Barely two dozen against a company of Trana/vians. This was never supposed to happen. The monastery was in the middle of the holy mountains; it was difficult—almost impossible—to reach, especially for those unused to Kaly/azin’s forbidding terrain.

it’s been hinted at that Nadya is in the monastery thanks to her power to commune with gods so she can be protected from those who would use her for that purpose (although why the Trana/vians want her is a mystery, considering they seem to be an atheist culture), so why isn’t she more well-protected? it’s common knowledge the Trana/vians are bred for war, so it shouldn’t come as too great a surprise when they decide to attack the monastery.

Nadya raised her eyebrows expectantly, willing [Father Alexei] to accept her place here. She had to stay. She had to fight. She couldn’t hide in the cellars any longer, not while heretics tore apart her country, her home.

WE HAVE SEEN NONE OF THIS. WHY ARE WE SUPPOSED TO CARE ABOUT HER COUNTRY? WHY DOES SHE CARE ABOUT HER COUNTRY? for that matter, she’s been told that, in the event of an invasion, she needs to hide in order to pray, and yet suddenly Father Alexei is cool with her standing there to fight with him???

How could the Trana/vians know she was there? The only people who knew Nadya existed were in the monastery.

Well … there was the tsar. But he was far, far away in the capital. It was unlikely news of her had spread into Trana/via.

The spell was a ploy for time; if the Trana/vians had a blood mage who could counteract her magic, it wouldn’t last.

her magic is literally given to her by the gods, and yet blood magic can counteract that? beyond that, how can she form the gods’ magic into spellwork in the first place? they’re fucking gods???

But the possibility of a Trana/vian lieutenant or general—a mage promoted because of sheer magical power alone—made her feel like running back into the sanctuary where she belonged.

[The goddess] Marz/enya scoffed at her doubt.

1) does ED realize that the ranks of general and lieutenant are nowhere near each other?

2) yay more immortal beings acting like teenagers. i love when gods scoff

imma rewrite this:

A hard chunk of ice slammed into her back, pain ramming down to her toes. She was thrown onto Kostya and they both went crashing to the ground.

like this:

A chunk of ice slammed into her back and threw her onto Kostya, knocking them both to the ground.

it’s not good, but it’s better and keeps the narration active, not passive.

The courtyard became thick with magic and steel as soldiers swarmed up the stairs.

if the cannons were just firing at the mountain (and the city at its base?), how tf did the soldiers march up 7000 steps in a matter of minutes, especially since Nadya had just frozen the stone? yeah they have blood magic, but it’d take them a few minutes to realize the ice was magicked and not natural.

Panicked prayers to the gods would only be met with more magic; Nadya had to decide for herself how it was used.

she hasn’t once wondered why the gods give her magic. sure she may have accepted it, but this is a book and readers need to at least be aware of the fact she doesn’t know why she has magic (or, if she does, that she knows why)

Pure, white light followed her touch and though she wasn’t entirely sure what it would do, she found out quickly enough when she sliced a Trana/vian soldier. She only caught his arm, but like a poison, the light blackened his flesh at the point of contact.

*squints at Sha/dow & Bone*

She staggered back into Kostya. The urge to drop her voryen needled at her hand.

I killed him. I’ve never killed anyone.

okay but she literally just said that every child of war-torn lands need to know what to do when the enemy comes calling, yet suddenly she’s quibbling over killing an enemy soldier?

Just when she thought she could take no more, [the god] Vece/slav’s presence swept in, enveloping Nadya like a heavy blanket. He soothed out the magic, pushing it away until she could breathe. She hadn’t called on him; he had simply known.

suddenly she doesn’t need to talk to the gods to make them help her? is it too much to ask that we’ll know why???

There were whispers of the Trana/vian High Prince throughout the monastery. A boy made general a mere six months after venturing to the front when he was sixteen years old. One who had used the war to fuel his already terrible grasp of blood magic. A monster.

maybe general means something else in the Trana/vian army, bc there’s no fucking way he would be made a general at age sixteen

It was a slaughter and it was her fault. The Trana/vians wouldn’t be there if not for her. If she died, would that make this massacre worth it?

yeah i don’t really care? she’s still given us nothing to base our feelings about the monastery and everyone in it on. we don’t even really have a reason to care about her yet.

She stared at him, horrified. Run? After everyone she loved had been cut down she was supposed to flee to safety? What would that make her, if she ran to save herself? The monastery was the only home Nadya had ever known.

no matter how many times you tell me that it’s her home, i still don’t care. the chapter started with her complaining about her chores, which was the first impression of her home we got, so why are we suddenly supposed to care?

She couldn’t break free. She could only stumble as Anna pulled her to a mausoleum, kicking the door open. The last thing she saw before Anna pulled her into the dark was Kostya, his body shuddering as another bolt thudded into him.

in case it wasn’t clear, i still don’t care

to conclude, this scene should’ve happened in chapter 2. the book throws us into the action far too quickly, without any buildup to make us see the normal become abnormal, to make us connected with any of the characters who we’re clearly supposed to care for, and does nothing to prove that Nadya really loves the people who look after her. if chapter 1 had started with the prank, sent them to the kitchen to peel potatoes, and ended on the attack beginning, it might’ve been different. i’m always a character reader, so i prefer slower beginnings, but i can sometimes appreciate a fast-paced one. this is not one of those times.

Myth Responds:

Welp, Kat was both more thorough and more annoyed than me, though we agree that we needed more time with the characters to care as much as the book tells us N/ady/a does. Also the awkward phrasing. This really does feel like it should have come later in the book (second or third chapter, maybe?) just to let us understand life and form a connection with other people. K/osty/a could have been a fully realized character who we mourned. We all know I’m not usually a fan of Look At This Feeling kind of writing, either.

THAT BEING SAID. I’m hopeful and nobody can take that away from me!

Bonus for Tulio gif.

#myth & kat read ws #ws spoilers

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yaachtynoboat711 · 5 years

Text

Fonder Ch. 4

A/N: Aight so boom: I hope y’all are enjoying this series so far. It’s definitely pushing me out of my fluffy comfort zone. Thanks to everyone who I’ve annoyed had be my third pair of eyes and offered suggestions for these chapters. I appreciate y’all big time. Also, I apologize for the two-week gap between the chapters. I just started school after a semester break, so I’m trying to get adjusted and find my rhythm. Thanks in advance for being patient!

Word Count: ~2.9K (a hair lengthy)

Warning(s): Angst, slow burn, plot progression

Thursday, October 23, 2014, 2:19 p.m., Elements Natural Hair Boutique, Los Angeles

Since she was finally finished with the nearly four month long legal project, Yaa now had a little over a week left in sunny California to do whatever she wanted. Tonight was her self-appointed reward for knocking the project out of the park and earning more clients. The Los Angeles chapter of the Black Yale Alumni Association was hosting their annual fundraising gala. All the BYAA chapters hosted their events the same weekend, the Connecticut event being the flagship event. Around this time last year, Yaa was preparing her ensemble for the Black Ball, totally oblivious to the fact that she would meet her soulmate at the Ball. What a difference a year makes.

“So, who are you taking as your plus one tonight?”, her loctician Nadia inquired as she intricately palm-rolled Yaa’s copper hued locs.

“Matt.”, Yaa announced giving a smirk as she kept reading the latest issue of Essence Magazine. Nadia’s eyebrows went up as she smirked.

“Damn hussy. Speaking of exes, how’s it going with you and Island Boy?”

“Things are getting...better.”

Since her breakdown, Khalida had seen a therapist. Her therapist recommended that for her sake,it’d be best to talk to Winston and try to establish a sturdy friendship. They planned to meet the afternoon after the Yale gala.

“Word? I’m happy for you, sis. Even more, you deserve someone in your life. Shit, you got the personality, smarts, and the looks to have niggas running over each other to get to you.”

Yaa spent the time under the dryer to think about what her loctician said. Her deep thoughts were interrupted with an incoming FaceTime call from Matt.

“Hey, lil ugly.”, Matt playfully chided.

“Well, if it isn’t the NECKS big thing in football. What’s good?”, Yaa snapped back. Matt’s jaw dropped when he finally processed her insult.

“Damn, fuck you, Khay. Anyways, I called to see where we would get ready at? My house or yours?” She almost didn’t hear the last question because she was snickering so.

“Well, according to the GPS, it’s in Calabasas, so I’ll be coming to you. My makeup cases are in the car now and I’m picking my dress up on the way.”

Matt shook his head, “Say less, ma. You getting those serpents tamed for the gala, I see.” He thought that the funniest thing in the world. Before he could say anything else, she hung up. I ain’t got time for his no-neck having ass.

5:00 p.m., Calabasas, California, Matt’s House

Yaa was welcomed into Matt’s spacious mansion with the sounds of hip-hop bouncing off the walls and an excited Matt embracing her.

“You look like you getting ready to fight somebody.”, Matt commented as he took the garment bag from his ex-girlfriend’s arms. She wore her smaller black bonnet, along with a Tuskegee shirt, black yoga capris, and Birkenstock’s.

“And you look like you can’t change a goddamn pillowcase. I keep telling you to leave well enough alone, Griffith.”, she replied as she gave him the “Who gon check me, boo?” look. He shook his head as he led her upstairs to his bathroom.

——

The lion-like revving of Matt’s Karma Revero engine could be heard all along the winding Calabasas back road he decided to take to the gala. He effortlessly finessed the bends and sharp turns of the road in an effort to impress Yaa. He’d had the car for not even a month and was already showing off. He occasionally glanced at the meal that sat in his passenger seat.

“I think I already told you, but you lookin’ hella delicious, ma.”, Matt complimented.

“Why, thank you, Matthew. I try to be as fresh as you.”, she humbly replied.

He took her hand into his and smiled before kissing it. “What’s that perfume you got on? It’s intoxicating.”

“Your cologne.”, she stated bluntly. The two looked at each other and laughed obnoxiously.

“You never cease to amaze me after all these years, Khay. I’m gonna miss you when you leave.”

“Nigga, I ain’t dying. Ima be around when and if I can. R E L A X.”

8:49 p.m., Calabasas Country Club

If you didn’t know that this was an alumni fundraising gala, most would assume that it was an actual Hollywood event. The sound of camera shutters, camera people shouting at those melanated beings gracing the carpet, and the numerous interviews being conducted at the end of the carpet set the vibe of the night. Once again: Black Excellence.

Matt parked his car in front of the country club, he tossed the keys to the valet before reaching for his velvet maroon blazer. Before the valet driver could get in, he stopped him. “Hold on, boss. I got precious cargo in the passenger seat.” He ran over to Yaa’s side where he slowly opened her door. She offered her hand and he helped her out of the car, gathering her train with his other hand.

The BLUE carpet went up the moment Matt Griffith and his date walked onto the carpet. He held Yaa close to him by her waist as they went down the carpet once more as a duo. She followed suit by tickled his side, causing him to laugh.

“You gon stop, ma’am.”, he warned as she joined in his laughter.

————

Winston was wary of bringing Michelle to the gala. Not because she wasn’t Black, but he was nervous Yaa would show up looking like God’s divine example of perfection. For the small amount of time Winston and Michelle dated, he never divulged the details of his previous relationship with her. For one, it still hurt to talk about the biggest mistake he’d ever made; and two, he feared Michelle would get extremely jealous. Truthfully, Winston hoped Yaa would be there; he wanted to talk and possibly get closure.

“Winston, is Lupita coming?”, Michelle asked shaking Winston out of his thoughts.

“Uhhh...last I checked, she should be here now.”, he replied.

“Is your mysterious ex coming?”

He throat tightened and palms began to sweat. “I doubt it; she’s in D.C. by now. Why?”

“I mean, from the little you’ve told me about her, she’s a Yale grad and a traveler. Speaking of, why don’t you talk about her?”, she folded her arms in anticipation of the answer.

He probably wasn’t in reality, but he felt like he was sweating bullets. “It’s just that...the relationship could’ve ended on better terms.”, he sighed, “I just need closure, is all. I’ve been spending this time processing everything. I think I’m good now.” He was lying like all hell.

Winston felt a presence in the room. He and Michelle migrated around the venue talking and socializing with the other Black Yale grads. While in a conversation with one of his classmates and Lupita, he heard a laugh. Not just any laugh; the only vibrant, contagious social laugh he could recognize from miles away. Once again, it was her. He resisted the urge to look for her.

Noticing her friend’s sudden switch in energy, Lupita turned around to see a foxy Yaa dazzling for all to see. She excused herself from the conversation and walked over to Yaa. She tapped her shoulder.

“Heyyyyy, Khalida!”, Lupita greeted with a grin and open arms.

“Well, hello there, Ms. Academy Award Winner! I’m surprised you’re not like polishing your Oscars or filming.”, Yaa joked as she returned the hug. “You look phenomenal, Peet!”, she twirled Lupita around to get a better look of her blue ensemble.

“Not as phenomenal as you! Wow, you know how to slay anything and I’m here for it!”

Matt cleared his throat. “You need a cough drop?”, Yaa asked in a sarcastic tone. He gave her a look.

“I’m sorry. I forgot he was here. Lupita, this is my ex, Matt Griffith, NFL star. Matt, this is the most beautiful woman in existence and Academy Award-winning actress, Lupita Nyong’o.”

After their exchange of pleasantries, Lupita took Yaa to the side to inform her that Winston was also in attendance...with Michelle. As much as it hurt to hear those words come from Lupita’s mouth, Yaa sucked it up and the two returned to Matt.

“We’re going on a field trip, Matt. Come along.” Lupita commanded. Matt agreed and followed his date with her train.

Winston wasn’t paying attention; he was walking around talking with Michelle. He accidentally bumped into Lupita.

“Peet, I’m so sorry. I was talking to Michelle and wasn’t paying attention to...wh-where I...was...going.”, his thoughts and heart rate began to speed up as he looked at the sight in front of him: his ex-girlfriend.

“Hey, Khalida.”, Winston said calmly.

“Hey, you.”, she basically whispered in a sultry tone.

“You look...sublime.”

“Oh? Interesting word choice, Mr. Duke.” She raised her eyebrow and gave a faint grin. Poor Winston was intoxicated with Khalida’s presence once more—a drug that he could never get out of his system even if his life depended on it. His eyes were fixed on her, breath staggering.

Yaa’s dress was everything: it was a black, long-sleeved, sequined, floor-length curve-hugging gown with a dramatic “v” neck that accentuated her well-endowed chest. A haute Morticia Addams. Nadia styled her locs into a mid bun with a pinned bang.

Michelle looked on as they conversed. It clicked—Khalida was the one that still had his heart. She wasn’t stupid; she could sense he was holding out in their relationship in more ways than one. Michelle cleared her throat loudly to break up the two former lovers’ sappy reunion.

“Winston, aren’t you going to introduce me to your...friend? ”, Michelle said with a slightly condescending tone, looking Yaa up and down with disgust. Yaa returned a rather unbothered stare to Michelle.

“Oh...of course, Winston began clearing his throat, “Yaa, this is my girlfriend, Michelle Lee, freelance journalist. Michelle, this...this is my...ex...girlfriend, Dr. Khalida Abdullah, Attorney at Law.”, he fought a smile.

Michelle grimaced. “Oh, a lawyer, you say? What kind of lawyer? Whose firm do you work for?”, she interrogated.

“I’m a civil rights attorney and I have my own firm with my partner and best friend from Yale Law.”

“Your own law firm? You look a little too young to own anything. How old are you?”

“Grown.”

“Did you even hear the quest—“

“— Loud and clear. I said I’m grown.” Yaa maintained her calm, yet petty demeanor throughout the unnecessary exchange. All the while, Matt and Lupita exchanged glances and silent snickers. Yaa was going to hold her own without hesitation. The Louisiana Reaper v. the bell pepper. “Winston, may I speak with you in private please?”

Winston looked to an upset Michelle that just waved her hand for him to go on. “After you, Dr. Abdullah.”,he calmly suggested as he motioned her to go in front of him.

Winston made sure to hold Yaa’s train. Winston became entranced as he watched his ex’s Spanx-less bottom switch from left to right. He felt a sweat come over him. Baby girl still had him sprung. They finally walked out to the balcony. The nighttime October breeze hit Yaa’s bare skin, sending goosebumps throughout her body. The bass still bumped even outside the country club. Even with the low lighting on the balcony, Yaa’s dress still sparkled in the moonlit sky. The two stood across from each other. A lot was on their minds and rightfully so. Four months had gone by without any sense of closure. The lack of closure was pacified with many questions, hypotheses, what-if situations, and many, many tearful nights on both ends.

“So uhh—“, the former lovers said in unison. They chuckled.

“You go first.”

“No, you!”

“No...you.”

“Dammit, Winston, somebody going first.”, Yaa said crossing her arms. “I just wanted to say that one, I miss you. Two, I’m happy for you finding Michelle. Lastly, LEMME FOUND OUT YOU OUTCHEA ACTIN YA ASS OFF ON PERSON OF INTEREST, MINI!”, Yaa hyped. She playfully punched his shoulder. There was a visible shift in her body language. She re-adjusted her posture and looked down at her dress. When she looked back up at Winston, he saw a rather stoic expression come across her face. “No, but...I wanted to just speak with you in private and I’m sure you’ve wanted the same. I miss you, Chris.”

Before he spoke, Winston offered his jacket to Yaa, an offer she accepted.

“I miss you more, Yaa.”, Winston replied quickly.

“The four months that we’ve had apart have had me thinking...a lot...a little too much. While the circumstances of our break-up hurt me more than anything, I don’t harbor any ill-will or harsh feelings towards you. I still care for and love you deeply.”

The admission gave Winston a temporary sense of relief. After four long months apart from the love of his life, it was definitely a relief to know that she didn’t want to push him over the balcony ledge. However, that feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the familiar void feeling in his heart—a void left by Yaa. He missed her more she would ever comprehend. He even missed her sarcasm and readings. By this time, he stood in front of her studying her stoic facial expression.

“I still love and care for you, too, Khalida.”, Winston replied.

“Which brings me to my next point”, she began. Winston’s brows furrowed in confusion, “This time apart has also given me the opportunity to contemplate our relationship from this point forward. My therapist...recommended that I reach out to you to establish something we never had—an actual friendship.”, Yaa explained. There was a steady pause and sharp exhale before the word “friendship” left her lips. It hurt her to see Winston with Michelle and even more to not be with him.

Winston blankly stared at Yaa. He saw, heard, and comprehended every word coming out of her Ruby Woo painted lips, but everything wasn’t registering.

“Friends?”

“That’s what I said. I believe we can work as friends and support each other despite our ending. You and Michelle seem like you all are getting into a rhythm and I don’t want to be your hindrance in your loving her.”

“Ok. Yeah...friendship? No problem.”, he noted dryly.

“Winston?”

“Yes?”

“Is that what you truly want? Because I don’t want to let our connection die.”

Winston shifted his weight and sighed before laughing. “Doesn’t want our connection to die...got it. Of course, we can work on a friendship.”, he remarked in a condescending tone. He was repeating that made him lose Yaa the first time. Yaa finally picked up the hints of sarcasm.

“Winston, I don’t know why you’re being condescending and cold towards me, but you need to stop. I just came to talk and try to amends with you and salvage what little we have left between us.” Yaa felt herself getting emotional and angry simultaneously.

Winston began pacing. “Oh, now you want to talk to me when it seemed easy to give me...give us up?!”

Yaa’s eyebrows flew up and her jaw dropped. Her heartbeat began increasing and her petite frame began to tremble—she was beginning to see red. Her mouth opened to snap, but it quickly closed to save his ego and feelings. “I don’t want us to end on this note...again.”, she mumbled.

“I don’t know what you from me, Yaa. This isn’t exactly easy so stop making it look like that.”

Yaa thought long and hard on her next statement. Being a known wordsmith, she had to craft what she was going to say to make sure it would stick with Winston. That and her anger was on 100, so one wrong move and she’d snap. She finally began to speak barely above a whisper but not quite at normal speaking level.

“What I wanted from you was to make sure the plane wasn’t still malfunctioned. But...I see that it’s temporarily disabled. Whenever you get your head and your ego out of your ass, we can talk. The number won’t change. Good night, Mr. Duke.”

She briskly walked back inside of the country club, fighting tears and the urge to break down once more. She wasn’t going to force a grown ass man to do right; Khadijah and Carrie taught her better than that. Once again, his mouth and his ego ran Yaa off. Fuck, whatever happened to doing better and winning her back? The second walk-out hurt more than the first. This time, he was actually angry with himself. Out of nowhere, his fist made contact with the concrete wall. He roared out in pain as his knuckles bled. Not only was his hand in pain in excruciating pain, but so was his heart. Both injuries could’ve been prevented had he just shut up. The tears burned and clouded his eyes as he cried hysterically.

Yaa returned to find Lupita and Matt deep in conversation, Michelle was sitting down at one of the lounge tables. Right away, Matt noticed his date’s rather bubbly and sweet spirit had been messed with.

“Khay, what’s wrong? Is everything alright?”, Matt placed his hand at the small of her back as he studied her visibly upset face. She was fighting back tears.

“Everything’s not ok. Let’s just go before I’ll need to dig Johnnie Cochran up from the dead.” Peet, I’ll text you whenever I can. Lunch is still on for tomorrow.”, she muttered in a monotonous tone.

Matt found himself running after his date as she angrily walked out of the venue. The plane was totaled.

Tag List:

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @eriknutinthispoosy @whoramilaje @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @washyourlinens @turn-thy-paige @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @dramaqueenamby @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @theunsweetenedtruth @sarahboseman @iamrheaspeaks @oshasimone @vibranium-soul @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @supersizemeplz @lovelynervouschaos @cay-cah @coonflix @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @great-neckpectations @jellybean531 @yofavcocoa @storibambino @maya-leche @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @texasbama @certifiednatural @abeautifulmindexposed

#thefonderseries #winston duke x oc #winston duke imagine #winston x yaa

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smallgcds-blog · 5 years

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GOOD MORNING ! unless ur in a diff time zone, but time is a conception of human perception, so u know...... i’m cora, i'm passable at best at intros, and the haunting of hill house just got done giving me a fear of mirrors ! which doesn’t make any sense hnstly... there was like one ( 1 ) intimidating mirror on that show so idk why . a n y w a y , these are my muses ( so far ) jane, jack, and ray –

* BELLA HEATHCOTE & CISFEMALE / / here we’ve got JANE FORSTER, the HUNDRED AND TEN year old GHOST - luckily, she actually looks about TWENTY - EIGHT years old. with a reputation for being POLITE, CREATIVE, SULLEN, and STUBBORN, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. JANE has been around faulk hollow for NINETY - ONE YEARS, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear PENNIES FROM HEAVEN by BING CROSBY? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

i accidentally named her after bella’s character in pride & prejudice & zombies because my subconscious is a SABOTEUR

jane died in a car accident in 1936, which her husband survived. this is something she’s still a bit angry at him for, though she didn’t actually wish death on him – she was just jealous (but not as jealous as she was when he remarried)

not because she ever wanted him to be unhappy, but it was sort of annoying being dead and not having any say in the matter

she never showed herself to anyone she knew, except accidentally at night from time to time, because she’d died in her own bed and her husband hadn’t the sense to move, but jane sightings were generally over quickly and could be dismissed as the mind playing tricks

she’s very bitter, especially when reminded that there are some immortals who can go wherever they like and not end up back in the same house every fucking night

she’s a really good listener, but tries not to eavesdrop (she’s of the belief that human rules apply to ghosts as well)

NOT trying to be obnoxious with her haunting or get revenge or anything. just sort of the equivalent of a domovoi (tho if someone left her food she’d be insulted)

speaking of russian cryptids, she has quite a few days where she feels like a gremlin and avoids everyone (not that she’s russian??? she isn’t russian)

after her husband died, she helped, as subtly as possible, to raise his daughter, but she and his widow moved away, leaving the house empty for a while

modern music is SO irritating to her unless it’s hozier or noname or anything vaguely calming at which point she is at peace with it

she’s definitely one of those people who never make it obvious when they hate someone

some basic wanted connections i have for jane are...

a distant relative (or maybe they’re not related at all) who does a bit of detective work and is like ‘newsflash, asshole, jane’s been dead the entire goddamn time’

GHOST FRIENDS

someone living in her house who’s technically her roommate but totally doesn’t know it (she’s alright for a deceased roommate but she won’t do the dishes because she doesn’t want to ruin her nails)

something romantic, some more friendships, an enemy or two

i’d say drinking buddies but can ghosts drink? i don’t know how that would work

* OSCAR ISAAC & CISMALE / / here we’ve got RAY CALDERA, the SIXTY year old WITCH - luckily, he actually looks about THIRTY - SEVEN years old. with a reputation for being LEVEL - HEADED, EMPATHETIC, SECRETIVE, and SANGUINE, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. RAY has been around faulk hollow for FOUR YEARS, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear OHIO by CROSBY STILLS AND NASH? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

dealer in enchanted items, potions, etcetera

absolutely the person to go to if ur ever in trouble; always down to help hide a body

has a law degree, and moved to town to continue practicing (he tends to change his name around so he can continue working despite being a sixty year old who looks a little more than half that age)

used to be VERY involved in activism but now he tends to be more involved in witchcraft (he’s carrying on a tradition)

he’s very much a problem solver for fellow supernaturals, as well as the odd human

his apartment is the sparsest of places - rust cohle true detective mood

he REALLY doesn’t get out much

he only listens to music dating from like 1960-1979

originally from yellow springs, ohio

hates stephen king novels with a passion

some wanted connections for ray are...

drinking buddies (because witches, unlike ghosts, CAN drink)

i love a good ex (or maybe their relationship status is just ‘complicated’)

someone he owes a favour

& maybe someone who owes him a favour

coworkers

a mentor (i know he’s like sixty but that’s young for a witch !!!)

* RICKY WHITTLE & CISMALE / / here we’ve got JACK MOREAU, the ONE HUNDRED AND FIVE year old VAMPIRE - luckily, he actually looks about THIRTY - FOUR years old. with a reputation for being STOIC, VIGILANT, AVOIDANT, and RECALCITRANT, it’s surprising we haven’t heard more about them. JACK has been around faulk hollow for ONE MONTH, but they ain’t leaving anytime soon. you hear GOD’S GONNA CUT YOU DOWN by ODETTA? that means you’ll see ‘em soon.

he’s originally from nyc, but moves cities every few years to keep up the illusion of mortality

the family he left behind, upon becoming immortal, consisted of his younger sister and wife - jack’s parents died when he was sixteen, at which point he began supporting the family. his brother was killed two years later in an accident at the factory where they both worked, which led to jack and his sister growing closer; she’s died now, but jack made a point of visiting her every once in a while. he still has a sneaking suspicion that his sister and his widow got together after he “died” which is really fine by him - his fault for going all vampiric

he’s not clueless when it comes to technology but he spends more time reading books than anything else - his phone is one of those unbreakable nokias that time forgot, especially because technology makes him nervous for every immortal out there

because he wants to live a quiet life, he’s gotten good at avoiding other supernatural beings (though there are several exceptions to this, probably, because i want plots)

he’s considering settling down in faulk hollow - he’s used to very big cities, though, and is a believer in locations that are easy to blend into, so he’s not sure

he’s conscious of the fact that he comes across as a bit standoffish but also like... doesn’t care? he’s really rather not get to know too many people

he’s just gonna drift thru immortal life and not get involved

a firm believer in fate

jack doesn’t tend to trust anyone in power - he’s of the belief that absolute power corrupts absolutely

some wanted connections for jack are.......

someone he turned

supernatural friends, acquaintances, enemies

an on again/off again relationship which is maybe complicated by immortality or lack thereof ? i love those

someone he’s staying with while in town

someone he knew a long time ago in the bronx (who he wasn’t expecting to meet again because he assumed they’d be dead by now)

someone trying to get him involved w some drama

like this if u want to plot / are willing to talk to me about the haunting of hill house & i’ll im u !

#faulk:intro #i wrote this intro at 5 am #and now i'm awake and it's not morning at all anymore #i'm a fraud !#as of 39 minutes ago

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maggiemay67 · 7 years

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THE CASE OF THE NOT SO SECRET VALENTINE- Johnlock fic

February 19th, 2019

Haven’t written in my blog for a while but I felt like now was a good time to start it up again. You see, the strangest thing happened to me.I received a Valentine’s card in the post six days ago. A Valentine’s card from my three year old daughter. A Valentine’s card in a red envelope. It had little love heart stickers dotted all over it and pink glitter spelling out my name.Now Rosie’s pretty smart ( for a three year old). Even Sherlock thinks she has masses of potential. He tells me that all the time. However, she still hasn’t mastered the art of formally posting a letter. She also doesn’t usually address me as John. Someone therefore had to have helped her to make and post the Valentine’s card in question. The list of suspects for me to choose from was very limited.

Mrs Hudson Molly Greg Sherlock

The Pope The Queen Mycroft…

This is the order I questioned them in. Just joking….I never bothered asking Mycroft.

Every one of the real suspects provided good reasons/alibis as to why it wasn’t them. All except one.

Can you guess which one?

When I got round to questioning suspect number four, he ( like the rest of them) was adamant that it simply wasn’t him. He casually suggested that it must have been ‘Hudders’ and she’d just forgotten in her old age. Well, he actually blamed something else entirely but I don’t want to repeat that here! Let’s just say he blamed her pressure point and leave it at that! Anyway, after Sherlock started frantically finger pointing in everyone else’s direction, I knew for definite that it was him.So I lied to him.I lied to the worlds only consulting detective and he fell for it hook, line and sinker. I told him that I had Greg (Lestrade) run the card for fingerprints. His face! His actual face when I said that! He actually asked me if Rosie’s finger prints were in the police system! When I started laughing he didn’t join in. He was being serious.

When I think about it, I don’t know why I asked the others first. It should have been obvious who helped Rosie from the moment the postman handed me the card. Sherlock’s always doing arts and crafts with her. He secretly loves glitter. Mrs Hudson is forever moaning about the amounts of glitter being sucked up into the good Hoover. Sometimes I’ll get in after a long hard shift at the surgery and when I enter Baker Street, there they are, my daughter and the ‘mad man’, lying there on the sofa, sprawled out, their exhausted sleeping faces caked in all the sparkling colours of the rainbow.

The last time Rosie and Sherlock had the paints out, Mycroft had shown up unexpectedly. Rosie accidentally tipped a red paint pot over his fancy shoes and Sherlock gave her a biscuit as a reward. When Rosie toddled over to Mycroft with the splatter painting she had made and offered it to him ( her version of a sincere apology) Sherlock just glared at him until Mycroft reluctantly accepted it. Sherlock took his hesitation as a personal insult to my daughter’s artistic abilities. God help Rosie’s future teachers! I could only laugh as Sherlock demanded that his brother leave, whilst mumbling something under his breath about the painting being better than some of the pretentious rubbish Mycroft had on his walls at home. Funny because it’s actually true!

Anyway, you might still be wondering what happened after my finger print lie forced a confession from Sherlock.He was affronted about the whole situation obviously. Couldn’t look me in the eye. I was (admittedly) being quite wicked about the whole thing.I really enjoyed making him squirm. However, as he gradually became more uncomfortable, I almost felt bad…almost…

I asked him why he had written John on the front of the card. He looked at me with utter confusion before stating that it was in actual fact my name and what else would he possibly have put.When I reminded him that Rosie’s name for me is dad, he looked even more affronted.When I questioned him on his use of pink glitter he became incredulous.These were his actual words…direct quote……

“Really, John! Can you give your daughter no credit for this situation? It was the colour she chose when I asked her to pick one for you. She also helped me sprinkle it. If you don’t believe me then have Gavin dust the glitter tube for fingerprints.Surely, as my willing accomplice, Rosie must take her share of the blame in this!I don’t know why this has grown into such a big issue.Why this card annoys you so much. It was meant to make you smile. You have been so sad recently and I concluded it was because you missed having companionship in your life, as you stopped dating after Mary and it’s been three years.I researched this extensively before deciding on the best course of action.A card on an occasion like this, from ones child, is meant to make the recipient feel valued, appreciated and loved.It is not meant to make them launch a full scale inquiry!Does it disturb you because I made an error and wrote John?I’m sorry for the Freudian slip but perhaps I was trying to remind you that Rosie is not the only person left on this earth that deeply loves and values you.”

Amazing that he can remember what he says word for word really,otherwise I couldn’t have put this in the blog. I was too busy having a complete moment of clarity/internal crisis , to pay full attention to what he was saying.There he was, standing there pleading his case like an accused would to the jury, and all I could think about was that he had just admitted how much he loved and valued me.

It worried me that he actually thought I was viewing the whole situation negatively. He couldn’t see how absolutely moved I was that he’d taken the time to help my daughter do something like that for me. Nobody else had even thought of doing that. For all of their goodness, friendship and humanity, not one of my other friends realised that I was getting to a point were I actually needed to be reminded that I was loved. Not one person except Sherlock Holmes understood that.

Sherlock was standing there giving his big drama queen spiel and all I could think about, was if he knew exactly how much he was loved and valued. Did he know that everything he had done ( particularly in the last three years) was appreciated. The man who stayed up all night and shot holes in the wall, was now ( mostly) going to bed at reasonable hours so he could get up and give Rosie her breakfast in the morning if I had to work a nightshift. The man who had eyeballs in his fridge and forensic slides everywhere, suddenly had spaces full of stuffed toys in his living room and he had willingly put them there.The man who would spend hours on his science of deduction website was now cutting it short to watch YouTube videos about sewing, cooking and how to do braiding, buns and French plaits.I suddenly, in that moment, needed him to know how much he was appreciated for all of that. The only problem with that plan was that there was no time to find the pink glitter and Rosie was down for her afternoon nap. So I had to improvise. I had been moving steadily closer to him during his rant and was mere inches from him when insanity finally took over.

I kissed him.

My lips merged with his, my arms wrapped around his back and I clung on for dear life, fearing that this would be the one and only time I would be permitted to completely open myself up and to show this man exactly what he meant to me. To show him the depth of feeling that he could stir in me at the most unexpected of moments.

As the lustful haze from my wreck less decision cleared, and just before the guilt of my actions began to form, I fully expected to be pushed away and reprimanded for selfishly violating him and his trust.I expected to be looked at indifferently and told in no uncertain terms that he was still married to his work. I did not expect his hands to find their way to my neck, or his tongue to be the one to push itself into my mouth. I imagined the noises from him to be protests rather than the guttural and raw moans of my name filling my ears in bursts of pink glitter. I never expected his body to be completely receptive to my touch and willing to press itself so intimately and tightly against my own. I expected it to be over in 30 seconds, not reaching well over five minutes of nervous fumbling and slow caresses.

When we finally did manage to prise ourselves apart, the room was filled with stunned silence. Neither of us had saw this coming. We spent a good five mins just catching our breaths and staring at one another, trying to work out how we had ended up at this point. It was Sherlock who broke the silence first. He started laughing.He was laughing the way he had done in our very first night together. It felt surreal.It wasn’t the time for laughing, not really.We were the dearest of friends. Our lives together and what we did with them mattered to a great many people. We had just decided to gamble with those lives and things weren’t ever going to be the same again. How could they be? No matter how much we would try and convince ourselves, we had just drew a very final line under the last ten years. What happened from now on would be a new beginning. It had to be. I didn’t feel like laughing was the appropriate response to that. Confusion and being scared shitless was the appropriate response to that. However, Sherlock’s laughter filled the room around us.It was infectious.I began to laugh as well.It was ridiculous.We should have been talking.We should have been working through what just happened.Instead we were standing in the kitchen of 221B Baker Street laughing our heads off.We had nearly ripped the clothes from each other’s backs, that how passionate we had gotten only ten mins before, and now we were standing at a distance with our laughs mingling in the air between us.

We didn’t have the talk that night.

Mrs Hudson appeared to tell us that Lestrade had tried to phone several times but there was no answer. That’s when the laughing quickly stopped. The game was on. We could never discuss this whilst the game was on.

Two days later and the case was solved.We still hadn’t talked about what happened in our kitchen.I went straight to the clinic after we left the crime scene and Sherlock agreed to go home and see to Rosie.It was a further 16 hours before I entered Baker Street again.

A similar and comforting sight met me when I emerged from the entrance of the flat into the living room.There was Sherlock lying sprawled on the couch, cradling Rosie in his arms.Face full of glitter.Faint scratch on his neck from were I had clawed a bit too possessively two nights before. The scene felt normal and abnormal all at the same time.

I made my way into the kitchen and was met with a tea tray of biscuits, a vase with a single red rose and a red envelope with dad/John written on it.Intrigued, I opened it and this is what was inside…

Dear Dad,

Sherlock helped me to make the last card because he felt that it was very important that you know how much I love and appreciate you. I think that you are the most wonderful father and that you have a very fetching name.Thats why I asked him to help me sprinkle it in pink glitter on the card. However, this card is not from me. I am just helping Sherlock write it because he’s useless with feelings. After discussing it with him, I’ve come to the conclusion that he is completely in love with you. Has been for years.He was just too scared to admit it to himself up until now.He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time. He knows this changes everything and he’s glad of it.Quite frankly ( if you want my opinion and Hudders opinion regarding this situation) you’ve been living with one another for years anyway, so you both might as well get some sex from this situation. What do you say?

Love Rosie x

P.s if you agree to this then come into the living room and wake Sherlock up with a kiss.

I started laughing again.I started laughing again and then I kissed him.

Why have I bothered to tell you all this? It’s not a real case after all.So why have I chosen this very intimate story about our lives together, to be the first thing I’ve blogged about for years? Well, It’s because I think it’s about time that the world knew the secret that’s been kept for a very long time. The Secret of Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes is so much more than the legend that’s been built up around him by myself and the media.The Valentine’s story is a symbol of who he really is.The heart as well as the brain. Not a freak, not a sociopath. Sherlock Holmes is the man who commands the whole of Scotland Yard one moment and then covers himself in pink glitter the next, all because my daughter demands it. Sherlock Holmes is the man who prides himself on being the smartest person in the room, but will mortify himself at the drop of a hat, all to show me that I am loved.

That’s who he really is.

I am so grateful that is who he really is.

I love him because that is who he really is.

—————————————————————————————-

“What do you think?

Sherlock had been perched on the seat next to John the whole time he was reading his blogger’s newest creation. The only indication of how affected he was came from the roughness of his voice when he finally decided to reply.

“Thank you John.Thank you.Though always remember that I would be nothing without my blogger.”

Sherlock bent down and kissed John on the head before deciding to speak again.

“You know you can’t actually post it though, don’t you.”

John shut the laptop over and sat it next to them on the couch.He turned to Sherlock and worryingly pulled the younger man’s hand into his own.

“Why not?”

Sherlock began to slowly run his fingers up and down John’s wrist as he traced circles on his skin.It reminded him of all the times previously that their hands had touched.In friendship, tragedy, anger and love. He was eventually pulled out of his thoughts by the soldier who was nervously licking his lips whilst impatiently staring at him.

“Mary was right, John .Who we really are, doesn’t matter. Not to them.Not to the ones outside Baker Street that read about our cases and sit in our client’s chairs.The only people it matters to are us, our friends and our Rosie.What you have just written is truly wonderful to me but …”

“it’s private…”

“Yes, John…”

“Okay, Sherlock. Okay.I won’t publish it.”

John lifted his laptop, opened the tab and began typing a sentence before clicking a button on the computer that allowed the draft copy of his blog to start printing. It was now Sherlock’s turn to wait patiently for John to explain what he was doing.

“Before I delete it from existence, I’m firstly going to print it out, frame it and put it in our bedroom. For our eyes only.It’s my valentine’s gift to you.”

Sherlock excitedly pulled the paper from the printer and couldn’t help but notice an obvious change to the piece that he had read only moments before.

“You changed the title, John”

“Yes. Seemed more fitting.”

“The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes.That might be your best case title yet, John!”

John grabbed Sherlock by the hand and began leading him towards their bedroom.

“Let’s go pick a spot for this.”

“Could take a while, Doctor Watson.There are a few positions I would like to test out

‘Oh,believe me, I’m counting on that, Mr.Holmes.”

HAPPY EARLY VALENTINE’S DAY, JOHNLOCKERS! Don’t stop believing!

#sherlock #johnlock #the johnlock conspiracy #johnlock fanfic #johnlock fluff #johnlock ficlet #tjlc is real #tjlc #tjlc forever #tinhatting #john watson #sherlock holmes

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tori10rambles · 7 years

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Just got back from the Power Rangers movie. Reactions under the cut in no particular order, just word vomit.

Before I start though, I want to mention the trailers I saw:

Spider-Man: Homecoming: Despite no longer being a fan of the MCU, I want to watch this movie.

Wonder Woman: HELL YES PLEASE. I’m dragging my mom with me, because she loves Wonder Woman.

Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets: Looks good.

Despicable M3: Really? This actually looks pretty hilarious, but really?

Transformers: The Last Knight: STOP IT ALREADY BAY.

Captain Underpants: ...I cannot BELIEVE this is going to be a movie. Looks fun though.

First off, was it cheesy? YES. Was it not very action-filled? I think so. Did I enjoy it? HELL YES. Also, yes, it was sometimes nonsensical, but if you went into a Power Rangers movie thinking it WASN’T going to be cheesy and nonsensical... Bruh.

I love that they all have to be friends/teammates before they can morph at all. Like, they spend more time in the movie not able to morph because they don’t trust in each other and believe in each other. And I also like that they don’t become instant masters of their powers/abilities/the zords.

There’s a lot of representation in this movie, and none of it was mocked. Billy’s autism is not made a joke, and neither is Trini’s questioning of her sexuality. It’s a miracle! And this time, we actually got “five teenagers with attitude,” which as shown, is not necessarily a good thing.

Also, I cannot believe they killed off a Ranger. Before they even morphed. I don’t care that he got better. They actually killed a ranger. And Billy! Who is literally the most enthusiastic about this entire thing, and who morphs first, albeit accidentally.

There is something really, really hilarious about the fact that the Zeo Crystal, source of all life on Earth, was buried underneath a Krispy Kreme shop. And that Rita thinks that makes Krispy Kreme something significant.

The Mythology Gags are all great. A++ work there guys. I spotted:

The fact that all the Rangers are from different social statuses/cliques is fairly reminiscent of Dino Thunder

the reference to Zack being African American in the show

the Zeo Crystals in general as a nod to Power Rangers Zeo

The Three Rules of Rangering

“It’s Morphing Time”

The original theme song

the streets named after Ranger Cities

Rita’s “Make My Monster Grow”

Rita being sent bitchslapped into space and coincidentally, past the moon aka her original base of operations

CAMEOS FROM AMY JO JOHNSON AND JASON DAVID FRANK

NEW STUDENT TOMMY OLIVER IN THE MID CREDITS SCENE which ties in nicely with Rita being the Original Green Ranger and holding the Power Coin before she was defeated

If there was a post credit scene, I did not see it because my brother’s a shit

And Rita mentions “others” willing to fight the Rangers for the Zeo Crystal, and she was an Evil Green Ranger, and there’s a mention of Tommy Oliver. All in all, I’m thinkiing the sequel, if Tommy is included, will include a suspicious Jason, which probably won’t help team morale. Also, this will complicate the apparent Jason-Kimberly attraction. But they’re teenagers, so I’m not surprised.

Oh, and if it was this hard to defeat Rita, I don’t want to imagine Zedd or the Machine Empire assuming they stick to MMPR villains.

Uh... as for actual character opinions:

Jason: That initial prank was really dumb, but I can see why he’s the Leader. His friendship with Billy is gr9, though his friendships with the other’s are also great, and the fact that he’s so defensive of his team, despite them not being a team yet is really heartwarming. His Calling Out Zordon about being scared was also a great moment. Why the heck do you look like Zac Efron though?

Kimberly: First off, did we really need to take a shot of her in her underwear? Like, really? Also, I like the fact that she knows she was an Alpha Bitch, and is trying to change. Also, she’s the only one to stick a landing after leaping across the canyon, which is totally cool. Also wtf you look so much like Amy Jo Johnson I’m in shock what sorcery is this the casting for this role was perfect.

Billy: Why did Billy have to die first!? What did he do to deserve that!? First off, autistic!Billy makes a lot of sense even for the tv show. Secondly, as the guy who previously had no real friends but wanted some, the fact that he’s the most loyal and most pure (to paraphrase Rita) makes sense. Following that, it also makes sense that Billy’s the first to morph, given trust in your teammates is what is needed to morph. Also, the fact that being with his friends is just as good as talking to his deceased father. My feels! He’s one of my favorite characters.

Trini: First, let me say hell yes for the first Ranger to be questioning her sexuality! Second, I love her snark and the way she keeps people away to keep herself from being hurt resonates with me. The entire conversation about she doesn’t fit her family’s standards of normal, which is why she doesn’t admit she’s not straight to her parents, is also really, really significant, and I feel like that resonates with a lot of teenagers.

Zack: The other favorite character I had in this movie, not only because he’s the only Asian. He’s impulsive and stubborn and he clearly loves his mother. His greatest fear is that she’s going to die and leave him all alone, much like anyone whose parents are terminally ill. And the fact that he is the first to acknowledge his deepest fear to these four other relative strangers makes my heart warm. He’s also a Jerk, but underneath that he clearly cares, and he picks up on a lot of unsaid things. Like Trini’s sexuality. The fact that he immediately stops flirting with her is also really, really appreciative.

Rita: I didn’t think it was possible for them to make Rita more evil despite how ineffectual she seemed to be in the tv show, but damn did they do it. Killing Billy, being an Evil Green Ranger, and killing people for gold to make her monster? Goddamn. Also, by being an Evil Green Ranger, that means she betrayed the people she once trusted, and who still trusted her. Which makes me wonder how the hell she can still morph.

Goldar: He’s less useless than the tv character, but he seems more like like a mindless, loyal servant in this movie. His loyalty is amazing though, and him going head to head with the Megazord was cool and very reminiscent of Rock’em Sock’em Robots to me.

Zordon: Wow. He died within the first five minutes. He��s the Big Good of the series, so I wasn’t expecting that. But then he ends up in the ship’s mainframe and I breathed easy again. Until he lashed out at the Rangers because he’s scared of what Rita can do and angry that the Rangers aren’t morphing. Then I got angry again. And again, that disappeared when he revived Billy using the Morphing Grid.

Alpha: Oh my god. So, I remember Alpha as being pretty annoying and basically there as Zordon’s arms. Not so here. Apha is clearly badass if he can train and spar with super strong Rangers.

Zords: I love the Zords. I love that they’re connected to the Rangers. I love how they’re apparently sentient. I love the Megazord and how the Rangers need practice to make it work. Also, the novelization says Rita knows teams who haven’t made a Megazord despite being a team for years. The Team did it after 11 days of knowing each other (and ten minutes morphed)

Though I have no hips for the reboot!verse so far, my new BROTPs are Jason+Billy and Trini+Zack and Trini+Kimberly.

All in all, 10/10 would watch again.

#Power Rangers #commentary #rant #IRL post

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deathbyvalentine · 5 years

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LARP Prompts

Sinister Crackers - Death Unto Darkness

Candlemas was drawing to a close, the shadows pulling tight and close. Only the flickering flames of the festive candles kept them at bay and the brightness of the fire burning in the hearth. Four figures sat on the winged chairs around the fire, backs kept to the darkness. For a few long moments, there was nothing but the small sounds of living. The sigh of the contented, the small sips of fine amasec, the creak of stretching joints.

The servitor bustled in with fresh glasses, small bowls of soaked chocolate, iho cigars. And four Candlemas crackers lying between each, separating them into partitions. The servitor placed them gingerly on the sideboard and left without ceremony. You could tell which of the figures were of noble bearing. Three of them politely ignored the new addition while one immediately got to his feet, fetching the tray and helping himself to a cigar without a moment’s hesitation. The slight woman sitting on the velvet chair tutted, but now the seal had been broken, also joined him, lighting up a little more delicately before returning to her seat.

Harrison puffed thoughtfully and turned over a cracker in his hands. It was patterned oddly, a slick green with silver lines crisscrossed through it. It was a little weighty, promising an expensive prize inside. “Traditional, eh?” He turned to Silvia, waving it a little. She nodded, eyes a little vacant, mostly paying attention to the crackling fire.

Thomasi finally stirred from her after-dinner doze, running a hand through her short black curls. “What have you discovered there? Haven’t had a go with one of those since I was a child...” She stood, crossing the room and picking up a deep purple one coloured with black stars. She also tossed the plain bright red one to Silvia. Reilly, the final of their number, shut their book with a sharp snap, holding out their hand expectantly for the last one, curiously coloured black. Thomasi happily obliged, passing it over.

The second it touched Reilly’s skin, there were four sharp cracks (louder than they ought to have been), each cracker splitting like a nut and the paper surroundings turning to ash. Silvia shrieked as her hands were coated in a thick red liquid, one she recognised as hot, fresh blood a moment later. Within it were teeth upon teeth, not human, but sharp. Harrison stared in horror as from within the paper appeared bandages, used, flies buzzing free from their confines and immediately falling on the chocolates on the tray. The bandages had a scent clinging to them, of rot and decay and death. His palms itched even when he dropped them. Thomasi simply looked confused at her prize. It was a small cube, with intricate lines forming patterns on every side. You could slide the tiles across, but the patterns never quite linked up properly. It was maddening, and her fingers already twitched to arrange and move them, to fix the errors. Reilly was left clutching a small pile of powder, separate from the dust. It clung to their skin and when they breathed, slipped inside their lungs as easily as air. Every nerve awoke as though before this, they had been half dead.

And within each, a piece of vellum. One word. “Chosen.”

The four council members didn’t even notice how the ash that had fallen to the floor seemed to be crawling to the darkest corners of the room, to hide with the dust and spiders.

Christmas Present - On Location

Laurie lay on the rug in front of the fire, open novel ignored, idly lighting his cigarette from the burning embers and taking a deep inhale. He blew out the smoke lazily, looking over at Lynn and smiling. Lynn sat cross legged at what they had both come to think of as ‘her’ chair, frowning at a pair of needles in her hands. She seemed to be attempting something like knitting, though it looked more like a mess. A lot of yarn was tangled in her lap.

“What’s this? A traditional femininity kick?” Laurie propped himself up on one elbow, peering over.

“Hm, only by technicality. My current paramour has a thing for handcrafted gifts.”

Laurie pulled a face of faux abject horror. “My god, is she a communist?” “I mean, she is a queer so the chances are more likely than not.”

“How very dare you Lynn, not all queers are communists. I myself am an utter capitalist.” “You mean hedonist dear, they’re not the same thing.” She replied, without looking up. Laurie made a low grumble of discontent but didn’t push further, turning his attention with some despair back to the novel. It was the work on which a future production was going to be based on and he had been advised to read it. The damn thing was killing his enthusiasm for the film. Normally he would get frustrated. He was a voracious reader, never without a book and nothing annoyed him more than dull prose.

But at the moment, it was almost peaceful. Christmas was two days away, his assistant had went home for the holidays, his mother had only guilted him via letter three times and Lynn had decided to spend the month here, planning how to woo her latest fancy. She had declared ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ as her tactic, but Laurie knew it was mostly pity for him that drew here here. He appreciated her not saying it outright.

Lynn was his oldest friend, and perhaps only true friend. She had been the runner on his first adult production and he had been rather captivated by this woman who swore and wore trousers and smoked. He was used to actresses, flowery creatures with long flowing tresses and drowned in perfume, and his mother who brought to mind dried flowers. Lynn was new and Laurie had always loved the novel. Ten years later, she was still here and so was he. She was the closest thing to family he had. His mother, bless her heart, was not like any family he had ever heard of and his father was hopefully rotting somewhere. Lynn was steady.

The Christmases of his childhood were formal affairs. The table would be set, the maids would prepare a meal, presents were expensive and often solemn. This Christmas would be no such thing. They would drink bottles of wine and dreadful cake, and listen to terrible jazz and dance together. Lynn would insult Laurie’s lack of commitment and he would comment on her terrible taste in women. She always went for teachers or married professionals or haughty rich women who merely wanted a little fun. She felt too much too quickly. Which was better, she countered, than Laurie who felt nothing at all.

It was a comfortable friendship, one that never felt at risk. It had survived her move to Ireland, Laurie’s brief dabble with cocaine and several meetings with his disapproving mother. Laurie had no doubt they would end up old and bitter, living together because nobody else could put up with them. He looked forward to it immensely. He glanced up at her, watching her concentrate on the craft in hand, expression perplexed. She was a mess, but she was his. He was hers, whether she liked it or not. There was some comfort in that.

Hiding the Fear - On Location

London was almost frightening in its intensity. A far cry from the quiet, uninterrupted fields that surrounded his home, the only nightlife the scurrying foxes and haunting owls. Here, it was never quiet. There was always something. Traffic, footsteps, laughter, music. He could wake up at four in the morning and go for a walk, and not be the only restless wanderer. There was always something new to discover. His idle mind flitted from one distraction to the other.

And then there were the bars. He had never visited one before theatre school. There wasn’t much opportunity in the middle of nowhere. It was like a whole new world. First there were the respectable bars where he was taken by producers and executives, where piano played softly and light smoke filled the air.

Then there were the ones Lynn took him to. Usually under buildings, lit still with gas lamps, filling the place with a smoky scent. Filled with men wearing lipstick and women wearing waistcoats. Genders were hard to guess, presentation seemed arbitrary and Laurence loved it. Every where he looked, there were people like him. Men curled together intimately, whispering in each other’s ears while women spun together on the dance floor, mouths open with laughter. Music was sultry and alive and like nothing he had heard on his mother’s record player.

He had dalliances before now. Stable boys who took a shine to him, a sneaky kiss behind the local village hall. But this was different. This was shameless desire. People looked at each other with lust, touches were loaded with meaning and nobody apologised or cringed or shied away. Lynn pushed a drink into his hand and stood beside him, a little defensively. He was so blatantly, obviously new it was almost inevitable he would accidentally offend someone. She was his guard against that. She needn’t have bothered. Two minutes in and he was gazing at a man across the bar, and she realised he wouldn’t be spending too long with him at all.

He had red lips and Laurence wanted to kiss him. It frightened him, the enormity of his desire, feeling so bright it felt like it could burn him from the inside out. When their eyes connected, it felt like an electric shock and he had to fight the urge to flinch away. A minute later and there was a hand on the small of his back, and he was lost.

He wanted to kiss him, so he did. He wanted to touch him and hold him and be fucked by him, so he let him. He made believe that he was in love and became addicted to the feeling, the flush and the rush. While Andrew didn’t last all that long, his love for the bar did. He was discreet, of course, but he came here often. There was always another boy or girl or person, always another dance, another drink. He adored it.

This is how he fell in love with London.

T67 - Rei

Their body was very small and very still. Astrid couldn’t stop looking at their hands, folded on their chest. Anything to not look at their face. They didn’t look like they was sleeping. They looked dead. Astrid fidgeted, leg jiggling, playing with the hem of her dress. It had been Rei’s once. It didn’t fit her quite right.

Funerals weren’t really a thing here. Someone would come collect the body, probably from the hospital. This was their fuck up, so they had to cover it. Then, to the club to drink themselves into oblivion and remember Rei. There would be no wearing of black, no emotional speeches, no closure. Just silence.

Astrid couldn’t feel anything. She kept waiting for the tidal wave of grief, the anger and sadness to hit, and it didn’t. She popped pills far too quickly, trying to induce chemical happiness, but that didn’t work either. All that was left was this stretching dark feeling that was very almost physical. Syn was holding her hand, but she barely noticed. She didn’t bother telling her parents in anything but a scrawled note. They didn’t really deserve an entire conversation about it, and neither of them had any idea what their children got up to.

The Saints had lived up to their name. Each and every one of them had gathered around Astrid fiercely, sorting out everything from Rei’s room to meals, stimms to sleeping. Astrid had never quite seen this side of them before, but then she had always been watching from the outside. Now she was the closest to them she had been, in more ways than one.

In the club, that’s when it finally hit. It hit like a brick, like a punch, like a freight chain. Astrid crumbled, Syn’s arms catching her and bringing her in close as she sobbed into her shoulder. The music drowned out everything but for once, it didn’t soothe. She had been here with Rei. There was no part of her life that Rei hadn’t touched.

Rei stroking her hair during her 100th break up with Syn. Rei piling blankets and sarcasm onto her during a particularly vicious hangover. Rei and her tangled together in their too-cold home watching some dreadful video. Rei and her getting ready for a night out, switching clothes and make up...

What the fuck was Astrid going to do without them?

Wayward Road - Cambion Blood Transfusion.

It was like, the sixteenth time she had almost died in two days. Her vision felt dim, her head dizzy with every movement, her limbs not quite responding correctly to her commands. She felt John scoop her up as if she weighed nothing, nothing at all, running towards the building. He dumped her on the concrete, prising the gun from her hand to use himself.

Nobody noticed her there for a few long moments, then suddenly there was a flurry of activity as Tammy dragged her into a half way sitting position, bandaging the wound in her chest. It was a simple wound, fixed with stitches, staples and glue. What wasn’t simple was the amount of her blood that had splattered into the earth. Her pulse was becoming irregular, her breathing shallow, her skin pale. Shock was the biggest killer in cases like this. And Tammy was overwhelmed, hands still stuck in one patient, a queue forming behind her.

That was when the other doctor showed up. Ash had barely spoken to him and now he was rolling his sleeve up without hesitation, jamming a needle inside and hooking himself up to her. His blood was a shade darker than normal, thicker somehow.

The moment it hit her veins she felt it. Hot, almost burning, and she felt more awake than she had ever felt. Like she had been missing something. And yet it wasn’t enough, still. Like if she had a little more, she would be complete and awake and she would finally be herself. It frightened her and she blamed it on the adrenaline because she had to. If she thought about what it was, what happened, there would be too many questions she didn’t want the answer to.

The Cad and The Diva: That one drunk moment

She amused him, nothing more, nothing less. She was a spoilt child, pampered by every director, cameraman and journalist within a five hundred mile radius. She stamped her foot and got whatever she wanted. Therefore, she was a useful contact. He got status just from being around her and everyone hastened to fulfil his demands with one glance from her. He could get used to this.

Currently they were sprawled on her hotel room bed, surrounded by empty champagne glasses, fan letters and chocolate wrappers. He had never felt quite so decadent, lying next to this gorgeous creature, sipping golden bubbles and half out of his tuxedo. This was it. This was fame and fortune and he loved every moment of it.

Gale was idly reading a newspaper review of their performances - glowing, obviously. She giggled at the idea of him as the next ideal of masculinity, his slight thin frame not exactly the picture of the modern man. She just about tossed the damn thing into the fire when it commented on the delivery of one of her lines. He did love her temper. He brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, their eyes meeting mid-laugh.

He leaned forward slightly. He could see it now, the romance splashed across every newspaper, people analysing every touch between them in interviews. The break up which would make women rejoice, as though it gave them a chance with him. The envy the men would feel. It would be a good choice, for them both, his grittiness moving her away from any hint of a good girl image.

He cupped her chin, raising an eyebrow questioningly, letting her decide if she wanted this sort of publicity or not.

AU where Owyn and Dmitri managed to get that drink

Zennor wasn’t always screaming horror. As a kid from Swanpool, Owyn sometimes found himself marvelling at the thick forest, the over abundant life of it all. It was hot and humid and dense and indescribably alien. The others may have wanted to go home. He didn’t. He was doing work here, valuable work and his brother had not died on this planet.

He lounged outside the Sacred tent, legs stretched out, sunglasses on as the sunset painted the sky a riot of pinks and purples. Behind him there was laughter and song, as there always was in the evenings here. They may be in the middle of a war, but that was no excuse to make each other miserable. Love, in all things, including down time.

Dmitri was a little way away, leaning against a tree, eyes on the road. Owyn knew he technically clocked off watch six minutes ago but hadn’t moved. Neither had Owyn. He steeled himself, standing up and going to join him. “Alright sir.” “Owyn.” “You do realise you’re not on duty any more right?” He glanced down at his watch, surprised. “I do now.” “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go for that drink.” “For the last time - “ “I know I know. But if we’re both off duty, it doesn’t count.” “Is that so?” He seemed to consider this, tongue in cheek. And then much to Owyn’s obvious surprise, he shrugged, moving his firearm to its holster. “You know what? Sure. We’re off this damn planet soon enough any way.” Owyn just about managed to pick his jaw up off the floor.

What passed for a bar in this place was actually two tents hooked together, lit by storm lanterns and three tables shoved together and piled high with bottles. Deck chairs and plastic tables made up the patron section. Generally it was crowded and noisy and barely held together. It was a place for people to get drunk cheaply and pretend mortars weren’t about to fall on them at any moment. It fulfilled this purpose admirably well.

It was not what one would call romantic.

And yet here they were, perched on chairs, knees just about touching, hands curled around the glasses in front of them. Owyn felt something like contentment bloom in his chest. He had won this particular round. Literally.

Lance Comedown - DuD

He stripped off his shirt, wincing a little. Down his arm new wounds had formed over old scars that ran from his shoulder, partly down his chest, to his wrist. It almost looked like lightning. It was from a rather nasty mechanical incident when he was seventeen.He had never made that particular mistake again. The new wounds were mild, bruising mostly from the pilot’s rigging that sat across his chest when flying. If you tended to pull off sharp acceleration and breaking, it could leave its mark. And it had. He was slightly concerned about an inflamed patch of red and purple directly in the middle of his forearm.

Sitting on the med bay bed, it wasn’t the physical he was worried about. That had been a damn good battle, he had helped, he hadn’t lost any of his squad. His heart was racing and so was his mind and soon that would fade, leaving him with nothing but an adrenaline hangover and an inability to sleep. It wasn’t death he feared. It was peace time.

A medicae fussed over him, deciding his arm was fractured. It was bound tight and he was sternly instructed not to fly for at least a week. He rolled his eyes and tutted, but knew he would ultimately listen. He didn’t want Devout to feel his pain after all. Even if she was generally mostly sympathetic.

#prose #larp #short stories #prompts

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