#That alone will never convince me to actually use some service to get music though lol. I don't need the statistics. yttmp3 for life babey

[one-boring-person]

Hey!

I was wondering if I could request a Rambo x reader set in the first movie, if that’s alright, where the reader sees him walking through town and knows that Sheriff Teasle will try to bully him out of town so she pulls over and lies about them being old friends and then they go to eat or something? And the reader actually treats Rambo like a human being and thanks him for his service to his country when she finds out he is a veteran. Oh and could the reader be female please? Thank you very much! If not then that’s totally fine 😊

And I also wanted to say that your writing is amazing!!! And the reason I ended up watching Rambo in the first place 😆

Hope you have a great night/day!

Nfhfhhhf thank you so much! I'm so glad you like my stuff! And I got you into Rambo? Hell yeah!😂 I liked this request a lot, so I hope I've done it justice!

Respect Me.

John Rambo (First Blood) x reader

Warnings: mentions of war, mentions if death

Masterlist

For once, the truck sound system seems to be playing the tape flawlessly, lacking the usual stuttering and skipping it generally likes to include in the soft flow of music. Idly, I tap my fingers along with the gentle beat, the steering wheel moving easily in my grip as I guide the beaten pick-up truck out onto the main road, falling in line with the other traffic around me. The vehicle shudders a little as I change the gears, the old truck having never liked to do anything it should do, slowly moving into a more sustainable pace as I lean back in my seat, keeping my eyes trained on the road, with a half-eye kept on the sidewalk and nearby shops. A few Christmas decorations adorn the homely stores, though it's mostly left dull and bleak, as this town always has been. Once again, I find myself wishing I could just move away from here, start a new life somewhere else. 

Ahead of me, the traffic slows, allowing someone to turn into the main flow, giving me the time to glance out of the window, scanning the sidewalk a little way away. Oddly, a familiar police vehicle has pulled up just past a nearby junction, the driver leaning out of the window to talk to someone on the pavement, who I have yet to be able to see. The car is Sheriff Teasle's, the knowledge of which does not sit well with me - If he's pulled someone over, it's not for a good reason.

Checking my mirrors, I indicate off towards the sheriff, leaving the main flow as I follow the curb round, finally able to see who Teasle is talking to. Just as I feared, it looks as if he's pulled up a random person for yet another unfair interrogation. Frowning, I regard the solemn-looking man with interest, trying to ignore the part of me that finds his somewhat crooked features incredibly attractive, taking note of his obvious vagrancy: his hair is long and shaggy, clearly being left uncut for months on end, his dust-strewn parka and faded jeans showing signs of constant wear. From what I can see, Teasle is questioning him, most likely about the guy's purpose in Hope, though he doesn't seem particularly open to this encounter. Making up my mind, I cross my fingers and hope my plan now works.

Pulling up beside the two, I stop the car and climb out, plastering on a convincing grin as I go towards the dark-haired man, greeting him as I go.

"John! I didn't realise you were in town! You should've said something!" I exclaim, pleading the man with my eyes that he'll play along, though it's somewhat unlikely.

He gives me a shocked look, head snapping round at the sound of the name, hard eyes fixing on me with suspicion and hostility, the severity of the expression sending a shudder down my spine. Teasle also looks to me, frowning.

"And to think you were left to walk along here in the cold! Jeez, you really should have called or something, I could've picked you up!" I carry on, praying that he picks up the cue, "Oh, hello there, Sheriff, how are you?"

"Not bad, thanks." Teasle replies tightly, glancing between the man and I, "You know this guy?"

"Oh, yeah. John is a family friend." I lie, smiling brightly at the man in question.

"Yeah, it's been a long while, but I thought it was time to visit again." The man finally chips in, his husky voice stirring up butterflies in my stomach, "Wanted to keep my visit a surprise, though."

"Ah, well! You're here now, at least I can give you a lift back to mine." I offer him, ignoring Teasle's sceptical look.

Giving me a taut smile, which looks more like a grimace, the man steps towards me, shooting the Sheriff a glance as he goes. Doing the same, I smile pleasantly at Teasle, and say my goodbyes, climbing back into my car as my new passenger joins me, sliding cautiously into the seat beside me. Quickly, I pull back out into the traffic, heading away from Teasle as swiftly as possible. 

"Thank you for doing that." The dark-haired man murmurs after a moment, his hands clenching around his knees as he forces himself to look out of the windscreen. 

"No problem. Teasle's an ass at the best of times, best just to stay away from him." I muse, "Do you want something to eat? There's a good place just down the road from here." 

Turning to face me, the man frowns and watches my face, as if for signs of deceit, his quiet nature giving me the impression that he's probably quite acclimatised to being treated as such. 

"How do you know my name?" He eventually asks, voice quiet.

Now it's my turn to frown as I glance across at him.

"I don't." 

"You called me John earlier. How did you know that's my name?" 

Surprised, I double take, now realising how sketchy that must look.

"Your name is John? I had no idea! That's a lucky coincidence, clears up confusion later." I chuckle dryly, "Honestly, I picked the first name that came to mind. I had no idea that it's your actual name."

He watches me for a second longer, eventually appearing happy with my response, looking away again.

"What's your name?" He asks me after a further minute.

"Me? I'm (Y/n). (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"John Rambo." John nods, flicking some hair from his face, "And if you're still offering, I'd like to get something to eat, please."

"Of course." 

Pulling up to the diner, I park the car, climbing out as I check the cash I have on me, deeming it enough for two decent meals and some drinks, hoping that it won't be too busy at this time of the day. John follows me, leaving his bedroll in the car as we walk into the small restaurant, finding a seat at one of the window booths, sitting opposite each other. He's quiet, scanning the room as soon as he's sat down, body stiff as he unzips his parka, revealing a red woolen jumper underneath. What strikes me most, however, (apart from the obvious planes of rippling muscle) are the silver dog tags hanging around his neck, jingling every so often as he moves. 

A waiter comes over to us, handing us menus with a false smile, leaving us alone together again until we've ordered drinks, at which point he returns with the beverages. Stepping away again, John and I are left with some privacy. At this moment, I take a breath and ask him the one question on my mind.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you a soldier?" 

John visibly stiffens, eyes hardening a little.

"I was." Is all he says, tone flat.

"Did you serve in Vietnam?" I ask, unable to stop myself as my curiosity gets the better of me.

Once again, John seems reluctant to answer, and instantly starts to glance around, clearly watching for an escape route.

"Yeah." He affirms, gaze returning to me.

Shock fills me at this: I'd heard horrible things about the Vietnam War, about how the soldiers (on both sides) faced terrifying situations that I'd never dream of, my heart stuttering at this admonition. 

"Really? That's...wow, that's…" I go to say something, finding myself speechless as I stare at the man before me, admiring him now in a totally new light, "God, you must be a strong person."

He blinks.

"Huh?"

"Well, you've done what I'd never be able to do, you've faced deadly situations, you've probably been in harrowing conditions and fights, I'd never have the strength to do what you did. Very few people do, so you must be a very strong person, mentally." I tell him, still in shock, "You definitely did the country proud, and I respect you for everything you've done. Thank you for that."

He stares at me in shock, eyes wide, lips parted.

"You...What?" Is all he manages, voice hitching.

"I respect you, and admire your bravery. You're a better person than any of the rest of us ever could be." I repeat, smiling gently at him.

For a long moment, he doesn't say anything, his expression remaining as it is, his body tense as he processes what I've said, clearly not quite believing me.

"You...respect me?" He stammers, quietly.

"I do." I nod, taking a sip of my soda.

"Thank you." John murmurs, pulling a face as he looks away, "You wouldn't be saying that if you knew what kinda things I've done."

"What you did isn't relevant to me, only that you served the country, and you did it with bravery, so for that, you have my respect." I reassure him, telling him the truth. 

John stays silent this time, apparently too overcome for words.

"Do you...do you need somewhere to stay?" I finally break the silence that has descended on us, tapping a rhythm out onto the table.

"No, but I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I already have, so don't worry about it. I'll figure something out." The veteran shrugs, still a little taken aback.

"You're not inconveniencing me, I wouldn't ask if you were. I have space in my house if you want to take it." I offer him, once again smiling across at him. 

For the first time, John smiles at me, his features loosening as the expression crosses his face.

"I'll take it."

#sylvester stallone #rambo #sly stallone #john rambo #john rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo x reader

[yunhoiseyecandy]

✕ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞; 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐬

✕ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫!𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ◆ 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✕ 𝐰/𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

✕ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

[𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭] @little-precious-baby , @multidreams-and-desires , @hanatiny , @latte-fairytaekwoon , @cloudyyeonnie

─────

no matter how many times he’s been on stage, adrenaline rushing through his veins, the high of it all never gets old.

and he can’t bear thinking of the day it all ends.

he remembers the first time he ever picked up a guitar, the way the tips of his fingers brushed against the rough cords as he strummed to the beat. it was something that came so natural to him, and he knew at that moment, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he hummed, this was meant to be.

it’s been almost seven years since that day, and his heart still swells whenever he thinks about how he felt. it was amazing, but it’d been hard to try and convince his parents to allow him to play, let alone buy him his own instrument.

hongjoong chuckles at the old memories, and he finds it hard to believe that he was once a fifteen-year-old boy who begged his parents to let him do what he loved, hot, wet tears running down his cheeks as he pleaded on his knees.

he loved his parents, and to see them disagree with something that meant so much to him crushed him. they used to push for him to study harder in school, beg his teachers for extra credit so he could have even a slim chance at passing the class, but that simply wasn’t who he was meant to be.

he used to be a more than acceptable student, but since he started playing in a small band that had been formed by a few friends of him, he couldn’t focus on anything but the music he adored.

music was his drug, and it would be difficult to put him in rehab. eventually, though, his parents had chosen their son over school work and caved in. that christmas they had gotten him his favorite guitar, and he can still feel the smoothness of the mahogany as he ran his fingers over it.

he’d grown greatly since then, but the rush he still gets is the only thing that hasn’t changed since.

this was who he was meant to be, and he knew that nothing else could compare. he was more than proud of himself for choosing this career path, and he knew it’s the only thing he could do best.

that’s why he always put his all into every performance, head moving to the beat while he sang his heart out till it was hard to breath. and tonight was no different, especially since he had one of the biggest record labels in his country out in the crowd, scouting for the next best performer

—

“we’re up in five, man.” san said loud enough so the rest of the group could hear. hongjoong blocked out everyone, his fingers brushing over the strings as he sang the lyrics to their song under his breath over and over again.

they couldn’t afford to screw up this gig, and it was already going to be a challenge since they had one of their group members, seonghwa, out with a cold. he was the main drummer, so they had to call for backup if they wanted any chance of success tonight.

hongjoong twisted the cap off his water bottle and took a sip before groaning, “fuck. if I keep messing up this note we’re gonna be screwed.” he’d always had trouble with that certain line, but it always got to him right before they were up.

san laughed, “yeah, well whose fault is that for not coming to practice on time?” mingi looked over to him before bursting out laughing, but it soon faded when he saw the look on hongjoong’s face. “sorry, but it’s true!”

sure, they’d all been friends for years now, but that didn’t change how annoying san and mingi could be sometimes. seonghwa really needed to get better, or hongjoong would end up losing his mind.

“doesn’t matter,” he tossed his bottle into the recycling bin, “it’s not like I’m just sitting around when I don’t show up.”

“dude, we’re just messing with you. we all know you’re the try hard amongst us three.” this time it was san who lost it at mingi’s words, both the boys heads thrown back onto the couch as they held their stomachs.

“fuck you.” was all hongjoong could say, knowing damn well they would just look at him and continue to giggle like children if he tries to defend himself. he sighed, looking to his wrist watch and then standing up to collect his belongings.

it was now time to perform, and he was more then excited as he walked out onto the stage, his bandmates following right behind him. hongjoong never really knew why he got stage fright, especially considering how many gigs they’ve had in the past.

he’s done this before, but something told him tonight was going to be different. and that eerie feeling didn’t pass on, not even when he went on stage and played like it was his last. his heart felt like it would burst through his chest at any moment, and he loved the way it made him feel.

he could taste the sweat that ran down his face and over his lips as his tongue ran over them, but he had to ignore the saltiness of it and focus on what lyric came next. 

“you say you don’t want me but you always come crawling back,”

“I’m like your drug call me your dealer I’ll give you that,”

“I’m not your baby, don’t make it seem like we’re reserved,”

“you broke my heart and I learned my worth fuckin’ try hard.”

he looked over to mingi after he sang the last word, his hands gripping the white microphone as he smirked. mingi’s hair was damp, and hongjoong assumed he’d taken a water bottle and poured it over his head after his drums solo was over.

it was a signature move that made the crowd go wild, and the red head did it at almost all of their performances. they’d done it since the beginning, as all of their fans seemed to love it.

they watched as the people in front of them threw their hands up in they air as their bodies jumped up and down, and hongjoong smiled fondly as he watched the lightsticks they had around their necks glow. 

this environment, the setting, it made him fill with joy. and maybe it was the red t-shirt you had on that was different from the rest of the crowd that made his eyes meet yours, or it just might’ve been fate, but he couldn’t seem to pull his focus away from you no matter how hard he tried.

that is, until san wrapped his arm around him and bowed towards the hundreds of people they gave their thanks to. “c’mon, it’s time to go now man.”

—

“okay let me get this straight,” your friend mia started, taking a fast swig of her martini. “hongjoong, kim fucking hongjoong, locked eyes with you?” 

you knew you must’ve sounded crazy when you told her, but you saw what you saw. “yeah, I know. sounds stupid, right?” you ran a hand through your hair as you sighed, and you couldn’t believe your own words. 

you’d been waiting months to go to one of their concerts, let alone be close enough to the stage to be able to breath the same air as them. and to have one of the members actually acknowledge you existed had over the moon. 

you can still feel the way heat crept onto your cheeks when he bit his lip, your eyes wide when he winked your way. it felt like the whole world stopped for a moment, surreal, almost. you hated how easily he got to you, too, like he knew just a smirk or a smile would make you a mess.

and it was right. because as soon as you left the venue, your legs feeling like jello as you ran to the restroom, your lace underwear was a mess that only proved how sensitive you could be.

and that only made you wonder if the small exchange you two shared made hongjoong feel the same way. 

but all your thoughts and curiosities stopped when you the hotel door slid open and revealed the man you were just thinking about, his two friends and many people with cameras trailing behind him.

“is it true you have a new solo song coming up in the next week?!” one reporter shouted towards mingi. “are you three planning to split up soon like the rumors have stated?!” san huffed as he pulled his hoodie over his face, pushing hongjoong and the taller boy forward and near some stools at the bar.

they were all relieved when security came out of the elevator and blocked the rest of the paparazzi outside the building, preventing any more unwanted people from coming in.

“I love performing, but trying to go home and sleep can be so fucking tiring.” hongjoong said, running his hand through his messy dark blue hair. san and mingi nodded, and they waved over a bar tender to order a round of beers.

“tell me about it, they just always act like they’re about to attack us or some shit,” mingi huffed, “I’m so exhausted.” it was normal for mingi to get tired and anxious after a long day, but san and hongjoong knew it would be best if he went up and slept as soon as he could.

it had been hard for the younger one ever since he’d needed a break due to anxiety, so they were careful nowadays not to push him to his limit. they cared for each other, and seeing one of their own feeling down was never a good sight. “you should go up to your room, mingi.”

san hummed, agreeing with hongjoong as he took a sip of his beer. “yeah, we’ll check up on you later.”

mingi new better than to argue with them, so he stood up and fixed his leather jacket, telling him he’d order room service and then go to sleep. “see you guys later then.”

your eyes fixed themselves on mingi as he took the elevator up, hands shaky and clammy as you realized who the two guys in front of you were. “mia, you s-see them too, right?”

her mouth was open wide when you looked over to her, and you could tell she was speechless. you tried to regain your compose and took a sip of your drink, trying everything to try and get your senses back.

she saw what you were doing and played along, realizing you wanted nothing more than to crawl up in a ball and scream into a pillow. “so.. how’s school?”

you two bursted out laughing at her words, but your knee hit the counter and both san and hongjoong looked up at you. san looked away when he saw you were okay, but hongjoong’s gaze didn’t leave yours after he recognized you as the girl from the concert. 

“shit, he’s looking at you, y/n.” you focused your eyes on the glass in front of you, toying with the hem of your shirt as you let out a shaky breath. “shut up or they’ll hear us-”

“oh, you’re the girl from the concert, right?”

—

you didn’t even know how you were in this position, his lips smashed against yours in a hot and steamy kiss as you ground your bodies into each other. but you were. 

so for now, the only thing on your mind was how his hand felt between your thighs, thumb brushing over your clit and making your legs want to give out soon.

your back arched against the door when you felt his lips ghost over your collarbone, and you could feel his lip piercing against your skin as it burned. “ngh, hongjoong,”

your clothes had been discarded long ago, only your white lace that was now soaked through on, and hongjoong still had his black ripped jeans on along with his white t-shirt. he moved you to sit on his bed, “lay back for me princess, I wanna make you feel good.”

you did as he told, sitting up on your elbows so you could watch him. his tongue swept up and down your left thigh as his fingers toyed with you over your panties., “please, just do something already..”

he smirked and gave a sharp squeeze to your other thigh, “patience, baby.” you felt him drag his lips up your body, taking his time to place wet kisses across your stomach and over your hip bones. “I bet you taste amazing.”

you groaned at his words, pulling him up to you by the nape of his neck and you crashed your lips together. he swiped his tongue over yours, groaning into your mouth as he did so. “then taste me.”

you didn’t have to say it again, and he trailed his way down your body while his fingers pulled your underwear down your legs, tossing them on the floor. you watched as he spread your legs wide for him, and you could’ve come right them and there just from the sight of his head in between your thighs.

“so pretty,” his arms wrapped around you, nails digging into the skin of your waist. his eyes didn’t leave yours when he licked a long stripe up your pussy, taking his time to swirl his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

you couldn’t help it as you reached down to grip his hair, and he moaned into you when he felt his scalp burn as you tugged. “fuck, you feel so good joongie.”

all his fans called him by that nickname, so he’s not exactly sure why it felt different when you said it. it came out like a whine, and he felt his boxers get tighter and tighter with each passing second. “tell me how much you want me, y/n.”

“I want you so bad,” you whispered into his ear after he crawled his way back up your body. “I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

he tugged his underwear down and slid them off, placing lingering kisses on your neck as he teased you with the tip of his cock. “you want me, princess? want me to have my way with you, make you come over and over again,” his breath fanned your ear, “make your cum mess up the sheets while I keep you quiet with my hand around your throat?”

you couldn’t help the borderline pornographic moan that slipped past your lips at his words, or the way your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. he placed an open mouthed kiss on your lips, shaking his head lightly before pulling away from your body. “nah ah, baby. I wanna slap that pretty ass you have while I fuck you,” without warning, he pulled you to the edge of the bed and flipped you over, pushing his hand on the small of your back. “good girl.”

your nails scratched at the fabric beneath you, pushing your ass out and groaning when he spread your legs apart. he grabbed himself and dragged his cock up and down your pussy, and he swore he’d never been harder.

you couldn’t believe this was happening right now. one of your favorite artists is about to fuck you dumb, and all because you both so happened to stay at the same hotel for one night.

“you’re so wet, y/n. fucking soaking for me.” he leaned down to bite your ear before pushing himself in you with one single thrust. he didn’t move, and you assumed he wanted to give you time to adjust. “beg for it, baby.” and only if it was that easy.

the way you screamed for him to fuck you, and all while his hand was secured tightly around your throat. 

the way your brain was starting to get fuzzy, only thoughts of how good he felt inside of you present.

the way he would land a harsh slap to your ass if you tried to muffle your moans. 

the way he would groan or hiss whenever you clenched tightly around his cock.

it was all too fucking much

but you completely lost all your senses when he pushed down on the small of your back while he fucked into you, and you swore you could feel him in places you didn’t even know existed. “r-right there, fuck!”

he was panting, and in that moment he knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing. it felt different, almost too good to give up. he knew you were his new drug, and rehab would be a bitch if he wanted to quit.

his hand squeezed one last time, halting the breath you were ready to take. you felt your nails tear the bed sheets below you as you came, and you could feel his cum fill you up as it spilled out and onto the cloth under you. 

after he pulled out, he kissed up your back and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll go get the bath ready.”

and that’s when you knew, he was way more than just some boy in a band.

─────

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop boy group #kpop fanfic #ateez #kpop #kim hongjoong #Ateez hongjoong #listen- #don't @ me for the made up lyrics vewrgnbpri #I TRIED #big oof

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Two

Word Count: 5.0K+

Author’s Note: So... Y’all quite like this one, I’m glad to be of service to you. Just started writing Part Three the now, so that’ll hopefully be up tomorrow. Uh, what else? I made a gif for this! that one up there, that was fun! Enjoy part two, let me know if you want on the taglist, thank you for reading the nonsense I write.

Warning: brief discussion of death (how the reader died), otherwise I think it’s all clear.

Check out ‘Part One’ here, and the masterlist here.

--

Y/N didn’t actively go seeking out Luke or his bandmates after the night at the club for two rather prominent reasons:

1)      Caleb had explicitly told her not to, and after 25 years in his employ, Y/N knew better than to face the wrath of the most powerful spirit she knew,

2)      She was actually nervous to talk to him again.

So, while Willie skated around the city to try and catch a glance of Alex, Y/N stay firmly put in the club for the following days. She had the privilege of going out, she normally used it to follow Willie about LA as he skated or go see new bands at her favourite music spots around the city, but those few days she barely left her apartment in the hotel.

In fact, when she eventually met Luke, it was by complete accident.

Luke had spent that past few days with Alex and Reggie, trying to convince Julie to re-join the band. They tried singing her back in, tried bribing her after Reggie managed to finally grab a cupcake from the fridge, and nothing worked. It was only on Luke’s birthday, after seeing how he acted with his parents, that Julie finally agreed to continue the band, now labelled ‘Julie and The Phantoms’ thanks to Flynn, and they were able to confirm their first proper gig at a club downtown.

It was a showcase more than anything, a chance for managers and talent scouts to find fresh faces for records, the perfect opportunity for them. Sure, Julie had to sneak out after her dad and tía grounded her, but it was worth it. The boys met her at the venue, as did Flynn, and they found spaces in the crowd to wait for their turn.

“Am I late?” Julie asked Flynn as she rushed in, to which Flynn shook her head with a sigh.

“No, you’re early.” She muttered, gesturing to the stage as Carrie walked on stage with Dirty Candy, a sight no one expected to see that night.

“Carrie? How did she get in?” Julie asked Flynn, trying her hardest to contain the eye roll as the five girls on stage took their positions.

“Daddy probably made some calls.”  Flynn muttered, Dirty Candy’s track coming on in the background.

“Isn’t she the one dating the guy you-” Luke leaned forward to ask, wiggling his eyebrows, but he was shushed by Julie quickly, who folded her arms over her chest, making Luke and Reggie chuckle a little. When the third laugh of Alex didn’t appear, the pair glanced around, only to find their bandmate had disappeared.

“Where is he?” Reggie asked, only for Alex to appear on stage with Dirty Candy, dancing his heart out along with the girls. He flounced and twirled in time with the music, though his lanky frame made every movement a little clumsy and jagged. It was only a matter of moments before Julie, Reggie and Luke were all laughing beside a rather confused Flynn.

“It’s the guys..” Julie muttered, and Flynn just nodded, Alex reappearing right beside her. “You having fun out there?” She asked Alex, who took a few deep breaths.

“It’s not me… Uh…” He smiled a little, looking over to find Reggie with a dubious look on his face and Luke struggling not to chuckle. “It’s my feet.” He explained, a grin growing on his face. “Put me back in coach.” He muttered before poofing away back onto the stage, the action earning a laugh from behind the guys and Julie, making them all stop for a moment.

Luke and Reggie shared a look with Julie, all of them confused. They were the only ones who could hear their conversations, could see one another, so why had they heard another girl laughing? Reggie turned to investigate, his eyes widening as he spotted a familiar face two tables back, and he quickly nudged Luke. When Luke didn’t respond, Reggie yanked his arm and turned him around.

“Gotta say, I really thought you were the dancer of the group Denim… But I think Alex’s takes first place.” Y/N spoke over the noise, lifting her hand to wave her fingers. “Hi Reggie.” She said with a smile, the boy gulping and waving back, before waving a hand in front of Julie’s face to get her attention.

“Reggie wh-” Julie swivelled and stopped, looking at Luke and the girl Luke was staring at, who then looked back at her with an equal amount of shock.

“Why do you look terrified?” Flynn asked suddenly, noticing her best friend had done a 180 and was staring into space.

“I can… see her…” Julie said slowly, while at the same time Y/N asked Luke a question.

“Can she see me?” Her eyes never broke from the pretty Latina girl, probably a half year younger than herself, and Luke glanced between the two. The girl looked oddly familiar, like Y/N had seen her before, met her before, but she couldn’t place it.

“I uh… I guess so. Julie,” Luke snapped his fingers in front of Julie’s face, and the girl blinked quickly, nodding to show she was back from her daze. “Julie, this is Y/N. Y/N, Julie.”

“I wish I looked as amazing as you do in turquoise.” Y/N said quickly, trying to relieve some tension before turning back to Luke, and getting a baffled ‘thank you’ from Julie in return. “Why can she see me?”

“Oh, Julie can see all of us. She’s the one that brought the guys and I back… Not sure how she can see you, but I’m new to the whole ghost thing, I’m not gonna question it.” Luke shrugged, earning a smile from Y/N. “Why are you here? Stalking us like Willie has been?”

“Not at all, if you can believe. No, I’m… I’m a big music fan, this is one of my favourite spots. Like to listen to the new age rock coming out of LA… Not whatever this is.” She gestured to the stage, one of the lights shining on her: she was dressed quite the same as the last time Luke had seen her, this time a band tee and denim skirt with doc martens on, her hair in braids. “It’s almost like I perform for a… for an after-living.” She paused on the right word for it, getting a sweet laugh from the mop-haired boy. “Why are you interfering with my personal time?” She questioned right back as Alex reappeared with the song’s ending. He took one glance at Y/N and bent over to whisper into Julie’s ear, causing her to cover her mouth and squeal.

“We, uh, we’re performing next...” Luke said quickly, glaring at his friends and shooing them away. With the action, Julie and Flynn rushed away, the former whispering in Flynn’s ear as they went, while Alex and Reggie left to ready themselves for the performance. “Sorry about that.”

“Good things, I hope?” She giggled a little, and Luke went red. “You know, I knew you were in a band, I just didn’t think it would be with a lifer. How on earth does that work?” Y/N asked with sincerity, and Luke smiled.

“You’ll have to wait and see, darling.” He teased before disappearing, leaving Julie on the stage alone.

--

Luke thought he had got off lucky, that with so much focus being around getting Julie back on board with the band would let Alex and Reggie forget about what happened after their night at the club, but as soon as they all got back rehearsing, the subject of Luke’s mystery woman came up again: the first time had been late the night after the club, when Reggie mentioned it out of the blue and got him and Alex talking it over for an hour.

“Julie, I know you’ve been busy…” Reggie started the afternoon before their show with the tell-tale signs of oncoming gossip, causing Luke to look up from his song writing journal. “But the night of the club, sorry about that by the way, Luke got more than a stamp.” He dished, and Julie stared at him wide eyed.

“It was nothing, stop talking crap Reggie.” Luke tried to defend himself, but Alex had snuck behind him and pinned him to the couch, and Reggie was already rolling up his sleeve to reveal the faded markings of a telephone number.

“Who is she?” Julie gasped, moving to the edge of the couch and resting her chin on her hands.

“No-one… Her name was Y/N… But it doesn’t matter because I won’t call her.” Luke huffed, shaking off his bandmates and turning back to his journal.

“What? Why not?” Reggie asked, appalled. “You like her, she clearly likes you… Calling you Denim all night, dancing with you…” He trailed off, but it was enough for Julie to squeal.

“A nickname and dancing? Luke, why don’t you call her?!” She demanded answers, all three of them did, quickly forming a line up of folded arms in front of the couch Luke had gotten comfy on to write. He sat up, frustrated, and slammed his book closed.

“Because, right now, we’re focused on music! Last thing I want, or need is a…” He stopped, wondering what on earth he would even call dating a fellow ghost.

“A ghoulfriend?” Alex offered, the trio stopping for a moment before laughing hysterically, leaving Luke groaning and covering his face with a pillow.

--

Watching them perform was a level of exhilaration Y/N hadn’t felt since she was… Well, alive. It gave her ghost bumps on her arms, had her tapping her feet and dancing along, triggered every happy feeling she could muster.

After a slight hiccup with the band’s name, and Luke admitting that his handwriting sucked, Julie corrected the host as she sat down at the piano.

Julie’s voice was angelic, and watching her play the piano struck chords in Y/N’s heart she didn’t know were there anymore, and she found herself standing beside Flynn, Julie’s friend, as they watched together, though very separate. Her voice brought the whole room to life after the Candy Girls’, or whatever they were called, performance: people quickly went from focusing on their drinks and food to focusing solely on her.

And then, like magic, the boys’ and their entire set up, instruments and all, appeared on stage for the chorus. Even as a ghost, Y/N was as surprised as the other audience members, who had grabbed out phones to record and done double takes when the rest of the band appeared on stage from thin air.

She couldn’t help that her gaze fell on Luke, strumming away on his guitar in the sleeveless tee that just proved her point from a few nights ago about his arms: he was more than distracting, he was striking, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Not as Julie sang like a member of heaven’s choir, not on Alex’s drum solos, never: her eyes were caught on him.

It seemed that quite soon after her eyes had found their home on him, Luke’s eyes found their home on her. As he sang along with Julie, he couldn’t seem to stop the passion in his voice, the unwavering eye contact that the pair held with Y/N letting her know that whatever the lyrics meant, they were for her in some way. The eye contact didn’t go unnoticed by his bandmates, Reggie and Alex finding themselves sharing a glance at Luke’s grin as he sang, Julie getting in on it as they came to the song’s final bridge. Luke dragged his eye contact from Y/N to look over at Julie, who couldn’t stop smiling, wiggling her eyebrows for a moment to make Luke chuckle as he sang.

And then, the song ended, and Y/N watched the boys vanish the same way they appeared, earning another gasp from the crowd before the audience erupted with applause. She took it as her cue to go home, opting to save the congratulations for the band at another time instead of passing them on through Julie.

Within a moment, she was down the street from her home, from the hotel she had called home for 25 years. Each step along the quiet street took her high from the performance further and further away, until it was simply a spark in her heart, and she was humming the song as she started towards the building’s side entrance.

“So, what did you think?” The voice caught Y/N off guard, causing her to spin round with the intention to maim before she matched the voice to the person: Luke was a few paces behind her, still in his clothes from the concert, fiddling with a guitar pick between his fingers.

“You want the honest or the kind review?” She teased back, walking towards him with a smirk, one of her hands coming to undo her first braid. Luke watched for a moment as she quickly unfurled the hair until it bounced past her shoulders in waves, only looking back at her eyes once she had moved to the second braid.

“Honest, always.” Luke replied, smiling as Y/N slipped the hairbands onto her wrist and ran her fingers through her hair before replying.

“Well…” She paused, a smile forming on her face as she shook her head. “I think it might be the best musical performance I’ve ever had the privilege to watch. You were all just… Electric.” She concluded, thinking over each word, leaving Luke with a dumbfounded expression.

“I thought I said honest.” He chuckled, and Y/N grinned.

“The kind review wouldn’t have fluffed your ego so much.” She replied. “Take the truth however you want, but I’ve spent years watching bands perform and I have never seen any as good as you four.” She said with a blush and a smile that Luke could only just catch in the dim lighting.

“Can we go somewhere?” He asked after a moment, causing Y/N to look up into his eyes with a grin.

“The beach two blocks away is deserted any time past 10…” She suggested, and Luke held out his hand to her, offering to travel together. She took it with one last look back at the side door entrance, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw someone… But they disappeared before she had a good look, and a blink later she was on sandy shores, the waves rolling and causing her to smile.

“Where shall we bunker down?” Luke asked, and Y/N kept a tight grip on his hand, leading him to her favourite spot on the beach.

It was on the rocks, far enough back that the sea could never reach it, and high enough that they were given a perfect view of the whole bay, cliffs blocking the crystal clear water in on each side. The rocks were free of algae and moss, and too low for birds’ nests: the perfect spot on the beach.

They found themselves quite soon after sat cross-legged beside one another, watching the stars twinkle above them and the sea roll in, crashing quietly against the rocks further out.

“You certainly found the best spot on the beach.” Luke said after a moment, his voice so quiet it almost blended with the natural sounds around them. He didn’t like the idea of disturbing such tranquillity with his voice, and his choice of volume brought a beautiful smile to Y/N’s face.

“It took me most of my childhood, but I did it.” She said with a half-hearted chuckle, beginning to poke her finger through a hole in her top. Neither of them was quite sure what to say, so Luke took lead, turning 90 degrees to face her, prompting Y/N to do the same, the pair now face to face inside of side by side.

“20 questions, easiest way to get through all the simple stuff.” He proposed, and when not met with a no, he continued. “What’s your full name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?”

“Luke Patterson.” He replied, and Y/N got the feeling she knew the name.

“Age. I’m 17.” She asked, and he smiled.

“17, a month away from voting… Favourite colour?”

“Don’t have one and I don’t think you do either.” She responded, met by a laugh and a nod. “Interest outside of performing?”

“Songwriting… You?”

“Nothing really…” She trailed off a little at that, and Luke frowned, reaching out and taking her hand in his.

“When did you die?” He asked, and Y/N smiled. She liked that they had moved on to what they actually wanted to know about each other.

“My birthday in ’95.” She shrugged with a sad smile, and Luke nodded. How uncanny, for her to die on her birthday, for it to be his…

“’95 as well, would you believe… Can I ask another question?” His thumb started rubbing the back of her hand. “How long have you been… Like this?”

“I uh… Coming on 25 years now… But it feels like 7 when you work at the Club.” She shrugged. “I uh… A lot of my co-workers, they tell me about this dark room they were in… Some of them for decades, but it felt like a day… I never got that… Did you?”

“25 years of it, actually… I appeared here about a month ago.” Luke answered, and the pair fell silent for a few minutes. There was a question eating at them both, neither quite courageous enough to ask. Instead, they held one another’s hands, rubbing their thumbs in circles, feeling the occasional jolt of electricity.

“How did it happen?” Y/N finally asked, though when Luke looked up her eyes were on their hands.

“Reggie, Alex and I all died on the same night… Same thing.” Luke sighed, letting out a laugh. “We ate some bad hot dogs, died within the hour.” He shrugged, and Y/N let out a giggle. “Yeah, I know. Weird way to go… What about you?”

“I uh… I don’t know exactly.” She stopped for a moment, removing her hands from his and placing them down on the rock below. “It was my birthday, obviously… My cousin convinced me to get a tattoo, promised me my parents would get over it. So we went to this parlour on the boulevard at Venice, they put on my favourite song to calm me down, the tattoo took maybe a half hour?” She gestured to her wrist, where a stamp from the club lay. “It’s under the stamp now. But anyway, thought my parents wouldn’t mind, but they went crazy. Livid. And I mean I wasn’t a perfect kid by any means, but for whatever reason the tattoo tipped them over the edge. They told me to leave and never come back… And I didn’t.” She looked up finally, seeing Luke’s brows furrowed from her story, urging her to go into the more grisly details.

“It’s been so long I don’t remember my birthday, I never celebrated it enough to care and remember the date, not even as a kid, but I remember that year, on my birthday, it was uncharacteristically cold. Not just for LA, but for the season, whenever it was. And I spent most of that night wandering. I didn’t want my cousin to know the bad news, or my aunt to see the tattoo, so I just wandered… Stumbled upon the beach… Found my rock…” She trailed off for a moment, and Luke glanced down at where he was sat: it became painfully clear that this is where she had died.

“I don’t really know what got me in the end. If it was hypothermia or some undiagnosed heart defect, you know maybe something happened when I fell asleep and I didn’t know. All I do know is… I woke up that next morning and… And I looked at my body from above, and my lips were blue… I went to the funeral, not a lot of people came, and then I just wandered again… Meet Caleb, rest is history.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N… I really am.” Luke whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek Y/N hadn’t even noticed was there. She sniffled and let out a happy sigh, however forced it was, and patted the stone beneath her.

“It’s just what happened… I’ve enjoyed my afterlife a whole lot more.” She quickly wiped her cheeks again, making sure any stray tears were gone. “Are you better at singing or guitar?” she asked, trying to get the game back on track, and Luke obliged her.

“Well, you tell me. You, after all, are the musical critic.” Luke leaned forward as he spoke, earning a quick intake of breath from his counterpart. It felt nice, making her nervous… It felt nice to talk to a girl again, to hold hands with her like he wasn’t dead…

“Ah, but that’s not fair. I don’t play guitar, I have an uninformed opinion.” She refuted with a smile, and Luke’s eyes seem to light up for a moment.

“You sing?” He asked, and Y/N’s face dropped. She hadn’t said that, had she? But, by saying she didn’t play guitar, she implied she sang. Shit…

“I uh… No, not really.” She tried to brush it away, searching for another question to ask like she could pick it out of the air, but nothing came to her, and Luke watched her quick grab at escape with befuddled amusement.

“Your words say no, the look on your face says yes…” He said, bringing her back from her search with a hand on her shoulder. “I’d love to hear you sometime.”

“What? My voice? No, no you would not. I’m about two paces from a strangled cat compared to you, compared to Julie and the guys? You all sound perfect.” Y/N smiled, blowing a loose strand of hair from her eyes. The wind was picking up a little, and the faintest of tingles brushed their skin.

“Perfect isn’t everything… Seriously, if you ever want to, my offer stands.” Luke smiled at her, and she felt her heart beginning to race a little. His emerald green eyes were boring into her soul, sending a blush to her cheeks and nonsense to her lips.

“I… Uh… I’m…” She didn’t like the feeling, letting her guard down in front of him, letting him in on a guilty pleasure. It felt like she was digging underneath some invisible barricade she had created, stepping into her personal space with reckless care and abandon. “It’s getting late… You should be getting home, as should I.” She said quickly, standing up and brushing off the dust from her shorts. Luke followed suit, a frown on his face at the sudden ending of their get together.

“It was…  It was really nice to see you again.” He said with a half-hearted smile, and Y/N looked up at him.

“You know… Maybe you should think again about Caleb’s offer… I sing sometimes, at work… Just backing vocals really, but.” She stopped, running her hand up her arm as the cold settled into the salty air. As much as she liked her beach, she hated it on nights like this. “I’d really like to see you again… Come by the club if you get a chance…” She said quickly, walking over and pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek in a surprising turn of events. For a moment, she was so convinced she’s just leave, just let it go and not look back, leave the job up to Willie. And yet, there she was, practically asking him out.

“I will. Come by the club… See you again.” He responded quickly, his hand coming up to his cheek absentmindedly. She just… It left a soft feeling, warm and gentle and he wasn’t quite sure what else, but it made his heart thump a little harder.

He had forgotten what crushing on a girl felt like.

“Good…” She nodded, the pair falling into an awkward silence, neither sure where to go from there. The wind was picking up again, and looking back inland they could both see the sky was slowly changing colour from a midnight blue to a pastel, with tinges of green welcoming a soft yellow. Morning was fast approaching, and they both had places to be. “Well, this is now a little awkward…” Y/N laughed a little, running a hand through her hair. “I’m gonna go… See you around, Denim. Tell your band they were great for me.” She waved her fingers as she took a few steps back, vanishing in a flash and leaving Luke to stare out at the ocean, decorated with the reflection of the overhead stars.

He walked back to Julie’s studio that night, keen to ponder the happenings of the night as he made his way through the city. He didn’t mean to pass the Orpheum on his way, but he did, stopping outside for a moment and glancing up at the neon sign that suddenly flickered off with the morning arriving. By the time he had gotten back to Julie’s, it was about time she would be heading for school, and he entered the studio to three expectant faces: Reggie, Alex, and Julie, all looking fairly worried for his safety.

“Where have you been?” Julie asked, Luke simply shrugging in response as he went over to the couch, lying back on the comfy pillows.

“I went for a walk.” He shrugged, glancing over. Their expressions had changed from worry to excitement all of a sudden, and it was freaking him out. “What?”

“Lipstick on your cheek says otherwise…” Alex mumbled, turning back around to his drum kit as Reggie and Julie sat on each side of Luke, Julie on the couch end and Reggie in the middle, making it rather difficult for Luke to escape. “Never seen you smitten before Luke. Was it the girl from the club again?” Alex asked with a toss of his drumstick, spinning it in the air before catching it with ease and taking a seat at his side of the room.

“Wait, the girl at the bar last night? The one I could see? Y/N?” Julie asked, receiving nods from Alex and Reggie, the latter of whom was closely examining Luke’s cheek. “She was pretty.” She drew the words out in a childish tone, craning her neck and batting her lashes to make Alex laugh from across the room, and Luke frown.

“I can’t believe she would be into you… You should have seen her at the club Julie, apologies again, I mean… She looked like a movie star.” Reggie rambled, and Luke had to flap him off with a laugh.

“Why don’t we stop pestering me about nothing and get back to rehearsal… And you, Julie, need to be at school.” Luke reprimanded her with a grin, “Isn’t it your big dance performance with a Mr Nick?” He teased, quickly getting the attention from him onto Julie as Alex and Reggie bombarded her with questions as she headed for the door.

“We’ve got a gig, tonight. We can sort out the order of the set list later, but pick what you want to show off. Dad’s getting it filmed for us.” Julie called, and she glanced back, catching Luke’s eye as she opened the door, the look they shared letting Luke know he wasn’t done talking about his mystery girl.

--

“You look sad, my little sunset.” A voice called to Y/N from across the club as she stood behind the bar, a row of polished glases to her right. she had spent most of her morning there, and as Caleb’s voice sounded the absentminded movement her fingers played on the countertop halted. The night before had been a success, one she was meant to attend, and by the tone of his voice and the fact he walked to her instead of teleporting, Y/N knew Caleb wasn’t happy with her.

“I’m fine.” She dismissed him and picked up another glass to polish, but the answer clearly wasn’t good enough.  A blunt object came under her chin, Caleb’s cane, tapping her head up and away from the glass she was polishing to look him in the eye.

“Y/N, how long have we worked together?” He asked.

“25 years, Mr Covington.”

“And did I not give you everything you ever wanted? A home, a family, a job you love?” He asked again and Y/N gulped.

“Yes, Mr Covington… You did.” She managed, the cane moving away from her neck, and for a moment she thought she had satisfied his ego.

With a forceful swoop of the cane, Caleb ran the metal topper through the row of freshly cleaned glasses Y/N had been working on, drawing a scream from the girl as glass shattered around them.

“Then why is it you run around behind my back?! HUH?!” He bellowed, and Y/N took a step back, lifting herself onto the back side of the bar to avoid the glass, to be further away from Caleb. “First Willie, now you… Your job was to tempt the boys back to the club, not go to their shows and fall for their lead guitarist, Y/N!” He continued, and she felt a tear roll down her cheek.

“C-caleb I’m… I’m sorry I…” She tried to apologise, but he cut her off as he jumped over the bar, his feet crunching on glass as he landed. Their faces were inches from one another, Y/N doing her best not to let out the sob that was clogging her throat.

“25 years… I taught you every trick in the book, everything I knew. I made you management material, I made you powerful…” He hissed, causing Y/N to flinch. “And look at you… A few days with some 90s teen heartthrob on your mind and it’s all been undone.” He sighed, the disappointment so clear to Y/N, it only made the tears run faster down her cheeks. “Take an hour. By the time you get back, you’ll have left your childish crush and fantasies somewhere else, you’ll come back to work the strong girl I know.” He started away, smashing one last glass for good measure, and earning a scream from the terrified girl.

“Whatever that boy did or said, remember this: love is weakness, and I don’t tolerate the weak.” Caleb reminded her, starting his saunter to wards his apartment, just beyond the backstage area. 

“It would be such a shame if I had to let you leave us, Y/N. Weakness is a breach of contract after all.”

--

Part Three is here...

--

Tags: @im-a-writer-right​ @elioelioeli0​ @jenjen889​ @walkingonshunshine​ @parkeret​ @lolychu​ @leahstypewriter​ @j-mar-memester​ @sunsetcurve-h​ @musicconversedance​

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

it wasn’t power i coveted; it was acceptance.

Titans 3.06

y’know, i was just thinking the other day that 1.06/1.07 and 2.06/2.07 were the best episodes of their respective seasons, so i have great hopes going in to this one. fingers crossed!

as always, typing this up as i see the episode.

SPOILERS AHEAD

1. oh! um... that was a Cold Open, all right. *nudges* get it? cold? because it’s snowing? and two people got murdered in cold blood? eh?

... oh, i’ve just started.

1.5. i wonder if “i want to be sipping pina coladas on a beach with you” is the new “i’m just one day away from retiring.” i was so on edge after that--i kept expecting that car to explode. even so, the way they died wasn’t an anticlimax: brutal, and quick. 

1.75. so i’m assuming that’s the titular lady vic! this show better bring up why this doll was important or why these two cops needed to be killed, and not leave it to the ether like jericho’s little mindscape jaunt in 2.08 (i’m still dying to know what that was about???)

2.

i love how deliberately unappealing wayne manor is. 

(sorry for the pic quality. i don’t have hbo max! ssshhh.)

2.3. i love the many references to “home” and “our house” when they’ve been here for less than a week and saw one of their friends get blown into pieces. i mean, i unironically love it: home is where family is, after all!

2.5. i’d like to say that kom is playing some sort of long game here, especially given the build-up we had last season and some of the more niggling details this season: why did kom choose now to use her bond to lure kory when she’s been on earth for months? why did justin call kory now, just around the time that she started getting kom’s visions? and what about kom’s ability to exactly imitate other people? hmmm.

2.75. the reason i wrote i’d like to say is that i’ve made the mistake of assuming plot complexity where there is none; i was so invested in the jason todd orchestrated his own death theory for instance, when it turns out that oops! ra’s al ghul just happened to leave a little lazarus puddle in gotham, and oh yeah! scarecrow just happens to have a network of henchmen working for him on the outside and a fully functional laboratory and a weapons cache fit for a new supervillain in the basement of the high security psychiatric unit/prison that he’s in! 

(no i’m not bitter, why do you ask)

2.8. iiiii don’t know what to say about the implications of sex slavery being a thing on tamaran, so i’m not going to say anything at all. for now.

3. gotham, six years ago... wasn’t it five years before s2 that jericho died and the titans disbanded? and when was the flashback from 1.06 where dick let zucco die? i think it was after the events of 2.08: jericho? i can’t seem to find any transcripts or reliable information online, so i’m going to have to rewatch 1.06 at some point. 

(i love the old-fashioned batman music in this heist scene)

3.5. “security is a joke... it’s my way of keeping my dad on his toes”. what you’re an ethical thief now, like an ethical hacker? i don’t think that excuse is going to sell, barbara, on the day you do encounter a decent security system and your father is forced to arrest you.

(then again, gotham’s security is piss-poor. did you know that you could just walk into arkham asylum without any official clearance, ply one of its most dangerous inhabitants with contraband, and said inmate could get away with having an entire laboratory and weapons cache--NO I’M NOT GOING TO LET THIS GO)

3.8 so that flashback between dick and barbara was really cute! and also illuminating:

a) dick sounds so light, so... um. look. i have some apologies to tender to mr thwaites, because while i’ve always thought he does a fine job as dick grayson, i’ve never been terribly fond of his cadence as he delivers dialogue. it’s often monotonous, i thought, but then again, he’s usually delivering exposition or dealing with one soul-crushing crisis or the other. so i was pleasantly surprised to hear dick sound so carefree and alive in his conversation with barbara, laughing frequently, his emotions so bare and bubbling to the surface. it’s really a fantastic contrast to the traumatised and world-weary dick grayson that we see now, even more so than the costume department just bunging a backwards-baseball cap on mr thwaites’ head and hoping that will convince us of his relative youth. 

b) and god, when he wakes up from that memory, all alone in his bed, bleeding from bullet holes in his shoulder (bullet holes that are--in a somewhat convoluted way--barbara’s fault)? yikes. it’s great. you have my apologies, mr thwaites!

c) can you imagine dick just... crawling back to wayne manor, trying not to be seen by anybody, shedding his suit and just... collapsing onto his bed without even tending to his wound? the sheer emotional and physical exhaustion of it? 

d) it’s so interesting to see how barbara and dick approach the idea of legacy--a big theme on the show!--in this flashback. barbara is the one bucking the idea that she should follow in her father’s footsteps, while dick seems pretty content with the batman-and-robin setup, and even tries to get barbara to join their team (robin-girl. pfffft). obviously after this several traumatic things happen wherein dick ends up questioning and then resenting his role as robin, his relationship with batman or even returning as a vigilante at all. and barbara... ends up replacing her father as commissioner. it’s tragic, really. 

e) the dynamic between dick and barbara in the flashback reminds me of how it was between dick and donna in 1.08 and even between kory and dick in early s1. it’s like having an older, strong-willed woman by his side means he gives over the steering wheel for a while and lets himself... unspool, a little bit. it’s kinda endearing.

also:

*pinches his cheeks*

3. you know, we talk about dick and Eldest Daughter Syndrome, and that’s definitely valid, but here gar seems to me the embodiment of it, with all the emotional gardening and firefighting that he’s expected to do. he’s kind of the guy expected to keep his shit together and take care of everyone else while they are falling completely to pieces, unable to carve out time to process his own trauma. he’s also picked up dick’s and kory’s tendencies to bottle up their struggles and shun appearing vulnerable, and he’s struggling in the shadow of both dick and kory undergoing acute crises, his best friend (and frequent confidante) on the other side of the world, and seeing hank die, utterly helpless to stop it. 

i’m glad that he got a chance to tell dick even a smidgeon of what he really feels, and i hope this is at least a semblance of a wake up call for dick to actually sit down and work with the people he repeatedly calls family.

3.5. it’s heartening to see that dick immediately makes it his priority to go talk to gar. but don’t blow off kory in the process, man!

4. i’m really loving this dynamic between kom and conner--i get the idea that both of them consider each other as Unknowns, alien two times over. but conner’s only ever known the titans, who embrace being different, and kom’s only ever known... well. 

anyway, kory is Really Stressed, and honestly? #relatable. 

when you’re forced to bring an estranged family member to hang out with your friends...

4.5. i love that the titans are spending so much time in the kitchen. a real family!

5. jonathan crane is a creep and i absolutely cannot stand him.

5.25. how did he get a whole lab setup (in the basement of a hospital...?) with a bunch of whitecoats to work for him? how did he just waltz into the viewing room of an operation theatre when he’s one of the most wanted men in gotham right now? why is jason wandering around maskless when--presumably--as the adopted son of the most famous person in gotham he’d be a tad more recognisable than your average joe?

why do i expect this show to answer anything anymore?

5.5. that’s not necessarily a criticism, mind; i’ve said since season 1 that titans is very comics-like in this aspect, all about the Aesthetic and the splash-page splendour rather than the niggling unimportant details of how or when the characters got to said location. like. the camera gliding over the operation being set-up, lady vic bursting in and doing her murder dance (imagine the luck of the poor intern who chose this day and this surgery to assist) and jason, shocked and slack-jawed, framed by blood.

5.75. it’s a sobering reminder for jason that, though he chose this path in order to gain control over a world that seemed like it was rapidly spinning out of his grip, he’s only succeeded in handing over even more control to a man with an agenda that is very clearly not aligned with his own. he’s in too far to stop now, though.

5.9. i have a lot more thoughts about jason! saving it up for the end of this recap, though.

6. more kitchen time! i better see dick do some cooking soon...

(”our kitchen”! it still delights me! kitchens are So Important)

6.25. so much of dick’s issues have revolved around his relationship with bruce, so it’s completely understandable that in the wake of a huge crisis where bruce literally asks dick to replace him and be a “better” him, dick would default to all the worst things he learned from the man. and i’m glad kory’s having none of it, but come on, guys. the woman’s literally fetched her fratricidal sister out of a hole in the ground with no idea what said sister is going to do next and experiencing a burgeoning sense of guilt far, far beyond her history with the titans, and dick’s too far into his autocolonoscopy that he can’t see that she needs help.

6.5. “he services your urges”--well, as far as we know, kory is the last person he had sex with...

7. “i hope [gar] isn’t angry with me...” SIR! i thought you’d already spoken to him! smh, as the kids say. kory wouldn’t be needing to reassure you if you just took the effort to build two way emotional relationships with the rest of the team. @superohclair​ was taking about dick’s relatively low emotional intelligence? i agree.

7.5. “i got my own problems [...] you and barbara? fix it.” YOU TELL HIM, KORY

8. man i really like this weird, sad tension between dick and barbara--this sense that both of them are approaching the other based on how they remember them and are ultimately disappointed by the truth. barbara thought she could trust dick to... well, be a better batman, but dick has not only failed at that in her eyes, but repeatedly undermined her while exploiting the authority that she gave him. in dick’s eyes, this is nothing like the barbara that he knew, rebellious and ready to do whatever it takes to find something. 

like. this show sometimes really hits me in the chest about the ways it shows kids grow into adults and into caretakers, and the way it’s stop-start, the ways nothing can happen at all for a long time and then it’s Crisis Central all at once and there’s no space to breathe. the weird sort of sadness that comes with nostalgia. 

8.5. oracle name drop! i agree with barbara, any system that can just randomly tap into gotham phonelines is a monster.

8.7. (i don’t know if it’s my imagination, but is dick holding himself... differently in this episode? like that wound is definitely bothering him, and he’s running on fumes)

9. man, that was a really sweet scene between kom and conner. “feeling alien in your own world”... “not quite here nor there”

honestly this team runs on conner and gar’s faith in their value as a family, and it’s a sign of conner’s generous heart that he extends that opportunity to blackfire. this arc of maturation for him, where he’s now able to consciously choose which parts of himself he can use to do the thing he wants to so--save people--has been so fulfilling to recognise. this baby’s grown with the titans! and what he’s learnt is that people can get fucked up, but the titans is a place where they can be fucked up, and grow.

MY MAN CONNER

10. oh man i’m drinking in the gar-dick interaction in this episode like i’m three days into the desert and it’s the only source of water for miles around!

a) gar is absolutely not dealing with dick’s bullshit this episode and I LOVE IT. it’s such a far cry from the man who was idolising dick/robin back in s1 and expecting him to solve all their problems. dick is fallible, dick is fucked up, but he Tries His Best and that’s ok.

b) dick, huffing and puffing through that vent, unable to put any pressure on his left shoulder, trying to have a heart to heart with gar... fuck i love this asshole. 

c) bruce took in a kid who was suffering... “and made him into a weapon”. well. i absolutely agree with dick that it was bruce who put these kids into these horrible situations with him and they came away with a bucketload of trauma to add to the one that they already had. but we know that bruce was really trying with jason, and at the end of s2, dick was coming to acknowledge that bruce had offered him something that wasn’t just darkness. jason’s death and bruce’s reaction to that shattered that fragile progress.

d) “gotham got to me too.” i feel more sympathetic towards dick running off on his own than most, and it’s not just because i’m an unapologetic stan.  we’ve seen before that dick... devolves when overwhelmed, and he lashes out and makes ill thought out decisions and just Does Not Deal. it happened after hearing the news that deathstroke had returned in s2, and it didn’t help that everyone around him was reeling at the news, either. this time, however, he has his salvation in his family, and despite some stupid decisions like running off and kidnapping supervillains without telling his team, he’s been really on the ball this season. thinking clearly and logically, holding it together and working on a plan, thinking two steps ahead of the villains... yes.

e) gar needing to believe that jason isn’t beyond redemption... there’s a lot of blood on his hands, too, from when he was manipulated by cadmus last season. it makes sense why he’d relate to jason’s predicament, and i hope dick picked up on that.

f) my head just added a plaintive ow after dick jumped feet first into the storage room

i need, crave gifs of this scene!

11. *sits on hands* i’m going to talk more about red hood, i promise!

12. more gar and dick! is it my birthday??!!

(actually, according to the tamil calendar, it is my birthday! my “star” birthday)

12.5. excellent. dick using some implausible training that bruce taught him to solve a mystery? passing some of that knowledge onto gar? that proud smile when he sees gar perfectly execute moves that he taught him? MY HEART IS EXPLODING

13. aw, i love flashback!dick and barbara, they’re so cute <3

13.25. why does it not surprise me that the way he proposes a relationship to barbara is by saying “we make sense”? this guy can deduce exactly who was present where and what weapon they were holding from a garbled audio recording but other times he’s utterly clueless, and that’s a consistent character beat right from s1

13.5. so.... that’s why lady vic has it out for... barbara....? i don’t get it. it’s flimsy. but hey! the fun thing about titans is that i don’t have to get it. the payoff has nothing to do with the plot.

14. i can’t believe that barbara fell for that, but at least that wheelchair fight looked awesome, so.

15. oh yeah, i forgot that red hood bullied the mob into helping him and scarecrow... at least that explains the whitecoats and the elaborate set-up.

15.5. honestly i love how this dynamic between kory and kom is developing, though i wish more of the team would pay attention to it. time to call justin, i think!

16. i wonder what happened after that second flashback where barbara got hurt during that heist. did she give up on doing any more (maybe jim caught her)? was it because dick was called away by bruce and then the titans and got caught up in his own issues? maybe barbara froze him out because she wasn’t looking for the relationship that he was looking for? maybe the idea of doing that with someone turning into batman-lite was just... unappealing? scary?

whatever it is, it doesn’t look like dick ever processed the end of that relationship. it’s very intriguing to see where their dynamic goes next.

17. so.... what, did vic deliver some fear toxin to barbara? i... what?

17.5. and i TOLD YOU that they would never explain that doll or why vic attacked those two cops at the beginning! oh, titans. never change. 

18. did jason just randomly have tim’s restaurant burgled? god, i’m feeling a bit nauseous... are they going to kill tim’s father?

18.25. i feel like the rest of the season is going to wrestle with jason’s culpability in the horrible stuff he’s doing and i’m already seeing that prospect divide fans. on one hand, his story is taking a lot of oxygen away from other equally interesting story arcs, and he’s done some truly awful things, like indiscriminate murder, threatening to kill children, blowing up hank, and potentially killing tim’s parents. 

there’s something to be said for the kind of hold that crane has over him, and the so-called ‘anti-fear’ drug that he keeps plying jason with--he’s alone, drugged almost constantly (to the level of dependence), fresh from the trauma of being bludgeoned to death. he hasn’t conquered fear; he’s ruled by it. on the other hand, given that he’s the one character on the show given an obvious and identifiable ‘mental illness’ arc (maaaaybe dick too), one can argue that it’s irresponsible to show this progress into such violence: jason was vulnerable because he was struggling, and that left him vulnerable, but it took only a push before he became a fucking serial killer.

but that could mean we underestimate the degree of that vulnerability, and the mechanics of this universe where he fell into the clutches of the one supervillain perfectly designed to exploit that vulnerability. that helpless spiral into further and further self-destruction is all too real. it’s valuable to know that someone who has sunk that low can still seek help--actual help--and get it. 

18.5. i don’t know. it’s not a question i’m going to resolve at the end of an overlong recap at 1 in the morning. i don’t believe it’s even a question that titans can resolve. but i am interested in where they’re going next with jason.

19. this episode was genuinely great! i’m pumped for the rest of the season!

#titans #titans spoilers #meta #dick grayson #koriand'r #barbara gordon #garfield logan #conner kent #komand'r #jason todd #jonathan crane #a byronic cupcake #badass strawberry truffle #manic pixie pop tart #a tragic jalebi #this is a 3k+ MONSTER yikes

[shhhlikeme]

Can I request hcs for Oikawa, Ushijima and Kenma reacting to when their S/O calls them "daddy" as a joke in front of their team 😂😂

ANON, ARE YOU AWARE THAT I’M A WHORE FOR USHIJIMA AND KENMA OR DID YOU JUST RANDOMLY REQ THEM? I won’t be writing Oikawa because tbh I don’t like writing for him, he just doesn’t do it for me —sorry!!! Lmao, either way, I hope you enjoy b/c this might be my favourite story so far: 

A reminder that ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!!! They’re GROWN grown, aight?

(slight NSFW)

————————————

Ushijima Wakatoshi | Kenma Kozume | Reacting to Their S/O Calling Them “Daddy” In Front Of The Team!

—————————————————————-

Ushijima

“Hey, daddy?”

Ushijima stops immediately when he hears it

You were on a team outing at a poppin nightclub and you pretended to be a wee bit more drunk than you were so you could get away with saying it

In Tendou’s private bottle service booth, the team wanted to explode when they heard you, all of them turning to their captain

especially Tendou who let out a childish ‘oooooooooooooooooooooooooo’ and wiggled his arms

Toshi, calm as ever, just looks you up and down in your skin tight club dress and says in his deep, panty-dropping voice:

“Yes, baby?”

even though it was a joke trying to get your statuesque bf to crack in public you’re the one who almost rips his clothes off

He is sooooo FINE

And not fazed at all that you’d called him that in front of his friends

It made you HOT, like you were burning up

Toshi is the type of s/o that honestly wants you to do whatever you want as long as you were safe and happy doing it, so he didn’t mind in that sense that you called him daddy in front of his team

Issa whole man girl. Fuck you thought?

The team felt and embraced Ushijima’s infectiously calm energy, just like they do on the court, subconsciously convincing themselves that what you just said wasn’t a big deal

This was Wakatoshi’s strategy and inside he was pleased when his team went back to taking shots out of the bottle and dancing

The team felt that it wasn’t a big deal because Ushijima didn’t make it a big deal. Simple math

But although your boyfriend didn’t appear like it, let it be known that to him: what you said was a very big deal.

Toshi made sure that all his teammates were back to partying and not paying attention to him when he pulled you closer and used one big hand to squeeze your ass in that dress

He knows that’s your weakness, and you squeal as quietly as you can, hiding your face in his chest

Ushi leaned down smoothly, pressing his lips to your ear as he said quietly,

“Listen. Are you listening?” His deep voice vibrated through his chest which meant it vibrated on your boobs that were pressed to his chest. When you didn’t answer fast enough Toshi squeezed your ass again, making you moan. Luckily, the music in the club drowned you out. You nodded.

“You begged me to come here when I didn’t want to, Y/N. And now I’m here. You said you want me to stay until it closes but if you call me daddy again I’m carrying you back home without a second thought.” Ushi leaned away from you to happily clink glasses with drunk Tendou who was yelling at everyone to cheers. Your man was so well disguised. If his teammates were paying attention they probably thought he was telling you his favourite tv show with how calm his demeanour was. When Wakatoshi felt that no attention was on him again, his lips suddenly returned to your ear and he moved his hand to squeeze your other ass cheek. You moaned as you could feel your panties soak. Your hubby sounded calm as ever in your ear,

“And if that happens, Y/N, I’ll unintentionally have you walking with a limp like I did on our honeymoon. I will not be able to control myself. Am I understood?”

You nod, wanting him inside you so badly. Conjuring up some liquid courage you lifted your head from his chest to look him in the eye. You two held each other’s heated gazes for a minute before you mouthed:

“Yes, Daddy,” because he never said anything about inaudibly saying it.

“Hm.” Grunted Wakatoshi, his eyes darkening in the nightclub. He tugged the bottom of your dress down a little so that no other guys could see your private parts as he roughly lifted you over his shoulder with one arm.

RIP to your limp-free walk for a week or two b....definitely two

sorry not sorry

He warned you and you tried it

wish I was you

Kenma

Your boyfriend was being anti social as usual.....at a 5-year Nekoma Volleyball Team reunion in Lev’s mansion

He was the best boy you’ve ever met, and you rarely had issues with him, but sometimes you did want him to interact with your friends instead of standing in the corner playing video games.. just a little 👌🏾

While chatting and laughing with the other girlfriends, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Kuroo talked to your boyfriend in the corner, no doubt trying to get him to join the actual event and mingle

You could see your blonde baby shake his head while staring at his game thing like he always did, and you sighed

Kuroo turned to you and pretended to hang himself, his way of telling you that his attempts didn’t work

Of course not, smh.

When Kuroo walked past you he leaned down to say that if ‘Kenma won’t go to the party then the party would go to him’

Not knowing what that meant, you just nodded before excusing yourself from your girlfriends to meet up with your boyfriend.

From behind, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder.

He jumped but soon relaxed knowing it was you getting into your favourite position.

The two of you didn’t say anything, having a silent conversation instead

You two just stared at the screen and Kenma upped another level, he was so into it and you could tell.

“Kenma.”

No answer.

“Kenma.”

Still no answer. You used your other nickname for him.

“Kay? Hell-o?”

Still no answer. Smirking, you tried using your ”other” nickname for your boyfriend instead. The one you used when he was anything but shy like how he’s acting now.

“Haven’t you already beat that game, daddy?”

Even if Kenma’s ears didn’t hear you, his dick definitely did. Unfortunately, at the same time that the naughty nickname exited your lips, you heard a collective gasp. You and Kenma both snapped your heads up, seeing Kuroo and the team had just walked over, and heard you.

That must have been what Kuroo meant earlier when he said he’d bring the party to Kenma.

Kenma closed his eyes, biting his lip then sighing loudly.

You laughed nervously. “Whoops. Did I say th-that?”

“You totally did.” Exclaimed Lev with a huge smile on his face.

“I heard it!” Yamamoto raised his hand like this was class time and the teacher just asked who’d like some candy.

“You’re so awesome, Kenma.” Praises Yaku. “You have a hot girlfriend, and she calls you—??” Kuroo clasped his hand over his old libero’s mouth, knowing that Kenma was sure to leave if they kept mentioning what they just heard like this.

“Hey Kenma, we are about to go inside and play some video games in there in Lev’s home theatre. Why don’t you come?”

Kenma opened his eyes, hearing immense comfort in his favourite thing to do. He could not turn down surround sound video games. You still had not released your arms around his waist. Kenma nodded to his best friend and told them to go on a ahead and that he will meet them there in a second.

Tetsuro ushered them all away like the true captain that he is, even after 5 years.

When they walked away, Kenma turned so that he was facing you. You looked at him with your cute ‘I’m sorry’ face that your boyfriend was literal putty for. He sighed when he saw you making that face, and all the anger he had toward you for saying that aloud dissipated.

“Y/N, that was really embarrassing.” He said in his normal dry tone.

It was your turn to shut your eyes in embarrassment. “I know, Kay, I’m so sorry. I promise I didn’t know they were there! I was too wrapped up in the game. I’ll never call you the d word again—“

Kenma watched you, his beautiful girlfriend, practically begging for his forgiveness. He didn’t like it. “I know you’re sorry, don’t worry about it.” He kissed your forehead. He looked around to make sure no one was listening. “And wait—you mean you’ll never call me the d-word again in public, right? Or ever?”

“Ever.” You said quickly. “I’ll embarrass you-“

“No.” Kenma said sternly. “Please keep calling me that in private. I love it, Y/N.” he told you he loved it very quietly, you could hear his voice drop with seduction. Kozume was thinking about all the times you called him that when he was having the time of his life between your legs and it turned him on. Kenma pulled you flush against him so you could feel his hard-on and you almost fainted. You loved when he was hard. It signified that pleasurable times were to come. You wanted him so bad.

But, you were at a party, and Kenma never let himself get carried away sexually in public.

Well, until today.

He pressed his boner harder against you.

“I’m telling you. I love it. So keep calling me daddy when we’re having sex. Or just whenever we are completely alone. Please.”

You gulped.

“Okay, Kenma.” You whined, wishing that you weren’t stuck at this reunion party anymore but writhing under your man at home in your shared bed.

A thought hit you and you reached in your pocket to feel for your set of keys. You remembered that you drove here, which only meant one thing: one really, great thing:

there was always the car..........

#kenma kozume #ushijima wakatoshi #sexy haikyuu #haikyu requests #haikyuu boys #haikyuu!! #haikyuu scenarios #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #ushijima x y/n #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #SMAU

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 2 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 2

“I’m honestly surprised your parents allowed you on this trip, Danny,” his friend Sam mentioned as they and their other friend, Tucker, packed their bags onto the bus.

The now seventeen year old Danny shrugged as he focused on trying to make sure his bag wouldn’t be squished in the luggage compartment of the bus during the trip. He brought a foldable telescope with him in case he had a chance to stargaze, and he didn’t want it to get broken.

His school, Casper High, had some sort of deal with one of the local National Parks. The school was allowed to camp at the park at a reduced rate as long as the students helped the Forest Rangers with some minor tasks. Both parties considered it a win-win situation as the Park Service received some extra hands, and the school was able to pride itself on the survival and conservational experiences its students received. Technically, the trip was voluntary for seniors, but the teachers indirectly pressured the students to participate.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised they convinced Tucker to go,” Danny eventually replied after he was satisfied with the location of his bag.

“You’re telling me!” Tucker whined as he waited for his two friends while he fiddled with his PDA. “My mother actually threatened to stop making her meatloaf for me if I didn’t go! They said, “It would be good for me”. Can you believe that?”

“I think a little bit of hiking do you some good.” Sam poked him in the stomach for emphasis.

As Tucker shouted in protest, Danny and Sam exchanged a glance. Tucker did not like the outdoors, and he was very vocal about it. His world primary consisted of technology, and while it was amazing what he could do with his handheld and twenty minutes, his physical prowess was lacking.

“But seriously, Danny,” Tucker injected after he finally fended off Sam, “how did you convince your parents to let you come?”

Danny shrugged as he headed towards the door of the bus. Shouts from the teachers made it clear they would be boarding soon. “It seems like the school board managed to somehow convince them. All I know is that they had a meeting with them to raise concerns and to tell them I wasn’t going to go, but they came back stating it was fine. It must have been one heck of a persuasive argument.”

“That’s because my mother was involved.” The boys glanced over to see Sam angrily kick a rock out of the way. Her parents were often a taboo topic. “I thought I told you she was on the school board. I don’t know the full details of it, but I know she was preparing counterarguments to objections.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents are so gung ho about this trip. You’d think they’d consider camping beneath them.”

“It’s because of the prestige. They can brag that their daughter and their daughter’s school has ties to a government agency.”

While Danny raised an eyebrow, he admitted it seemed petty enough of a reason. Sam’s parents were very wealthy and liked to show off their wealth, much to their daughter’s dismay. They often argued with her regarding her appearance, music tastes, friends, after school activities, and other issues as they believed their daughter’s choices reflected poorly on them. However, they were usually fine with their daughter’s activism regarding conservation and animal rights as long as she didn’t go too far with it, such as the time she tried to stage a break out at the local zoo.

Their conversation ended as the boarding began. The three somehow managed to get the back of the bus, which allowed them to continue to talk without interruption. Most of the other students tended to avoid their group. They didn’t know why until one of the band members, Mikey, once asked Tucker how he put up with being so close to Danny. Confused, Tucker asked him to elaborate.

According to Mikey, a lot of the other students felt unnerved by Danny. As polite and quiet as he tended to be, there was something odd about him that no one was directly able to pinpoint. Mikey said he thought it could have been his eyes, citing how at times it almost seemed like Danny saw the world in a slightly different way than the rest of them. Tucker just laughed it off and explained that Danny had a traumatic event as a child so he often seemed unusually reserved. Mikey seemed to accept that answer, and afterwards, at least some of the students involved with the band were more open towards Danny.

The Fentons moved to Amity Park two years after Danny’s disappearance, so the majority of the student body was unaware of the event. If he was honest, Danny would never have told Sam and Tucker what happened, but his parents’ eccentricities forced the issue.

When his parent’s found out about Sam’s activism the first time she and Tucker visited their house, they made her swear she would not take their son into the woods with her. When he was finally allowed to take them to his room after Sam promised she wouldn’t, he hesitantly explained why they were so intense. His friends were very understanding, though they were just as puzzled about the entire thing as he was. Tucker even offered to hack into the old case file if Danny ever decided to look into it.

Sam did mention that it did help explain why they sometimes caught him staring off into space. She figured he was probably traumatized by something he couldn’t quite remember. Danny mentioned his sister once told him something similar, but he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened.

What he never admitted to his friends was that he knew why he sometimes seemed distant. Ever since his disappearance, he sometimes saw figures out of the corner of his periphery. Usually, he thought it was another person, but when he tried to check, whatever it was had disappeared. More recently, however, the figures seemed to let him glimpse them for a second or two. He could never make out anything other than the vague shape as a person. Since no one else seemed to notice them, he figured it was some weird sort of paranoia due to a repressed memory.

….

About a half hour after they left, Danny received a voicemail from his parents. He had forgotten he had put it on silent, but there was no way he could call them back while he was on the bus since Mr. Lancer was the chaperone for his bus, and that man was a stickler for the rules. Instead, he made a mental note to call them back as soon as he had permission as he clicked the play button.

His mother’s voice sounded absolutely frantic. “Daniel, you call me as soon as you get this! I don’t know what came over us, but we never should have let you go without some sort of protection. I should have never have let you go. If the teachers won’t let you call us, jest remember to never be the last or first in line, and never, under any circumstances, go anywhere alone. And, this is important Danny, if anyone you don’t know offers you food, don’t take it.” His dad could faintly be heard in the background talking about some sort of weaponry he made.

“And here I thought only my mom could sound like that. What was that about?” Sam asked. Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t going to let it drop until he had an answer.

“I think my parents finally realized I was going into the woods,” he replied as he put his phone away.

“I thought you said they were fine with you going,” Tucker chimed in while he rummaged through his back for a snack.

Danny didn’t immediately answer. He glanced away for a moment before finally he decided to open up about something which had been bugging him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but my parents almost seemed like they were in a daze after that school meeting. They were so adamant I was not going to be allowed to go on that trip, and then they just changed their minds and stopped voicing their concerns. It was so weird that I actually called Jazz.”

It was true. He had called his sister at collage because of how out of character it was. While Jazz understood his concern, she reassured him one of the teachers or other parents managed to ease their concerns, and/or they realized some of their worries were silly and unfounded. He tried to tell her there was something more to it as she couldn’t physically see how off they were, but she just told him he was being paranoid and to enjoy himself.

Tucker whistled. “It must have been weird for you to do that.” Both Sam and Tucker knew full well how Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton tended to overanalyze almost everything. As a result, Danny often tried to avoid asking her questions regarding why a person would act in a certain way. The resulting explanation was often too lengthy to be interesting.

“As weird as that is, do you really think anyone in Amity would do something like drug or hypnotize your parents?” Sam argued.

“I… I don’t really know. Look, I never told you guys this,” Danny sighed as he steeled himself, “but, there has been a second incident prior to us moving. Our old house had a wooded area behind it. It wasn’t dense or anything, and you could see in it for like a half mile… but, according to my parents, and Jazz confirmed it, I went missing again for several hours in those woods. I don’t remember saying this, but they said I mentioned something about my playmate from the forest in Arkansas payed me a visit. There’s been an unspoken worry that this guy is following us for some reason.”

Neither of his friends said anything for a while until Sam spoke up. “That’s really messed up, but do you really think that’s the case? How would this person be able to find you? Do you even know what he or she looks like?”

He shook his head. “You know my parents are big names in fringe science. It’s possible he found us that way. I know that it’s really unlikely… It… It’s just… it was too weird, you know? With how my parents go on and on about other dimensions and being spirited away, them just suddenly changing their minds went against everything they believe.”

“Don’t worry, Danny. You’re with us and a bunch of other students. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And if something does happen, Sam can chase off the bad guy with those boots of hers. Ow!” Tucker glared at Sam as he rubbed his shin. “That was a compliment.”

She just snickered which caused the two to start bickering. The familiarity of it helped ease some of Danny’s worries. He knew he was just being paranoid, and that it was very unlikely anyone did something to his parents. It was just that he couldn’t shake off his uneasy feeling.

….

Their camp ground was in the Cuyahoga Valley region which was on the outskirts of the Allegheny plateau. The hills in the area were rolling due to the plateau and ancient glacial activity, but they were nowhere near as large as the ones found closer to the mountains in the next state over. Like many forests in the plateau, it was surprisingly old and dense.

Danny was unsettled by it. The hardwood trees blocked out a large percentage of the sun which cast permanent shadows on the area. Not only was it unlikely he would be able to stargaze, he kept thinking he saw something peek out from behind the trees. Chalking it up to paranoia, he decided to focus on the interior of the bus until they reached their destination. He didn’t need to freak out this early in the trip.

Due to the amount of students, the school split them into groups of about thirty and split them around the park. His group was sent to a series of cabins near one of the ranger stations. There were five or six assigned to each cabin. Thankfully for Danny, Tucker was also assigned to the same cabin.

After Mr. Lancer told them some general rules, they were told they had an hour to settle in before they would met up for lunch. The unpacking was fairly uneventful, though Danny was dismayed to learn some of the football players would be in his cabin. Most of them tended to leave him alone, but the one, Dash, liked to bully him. It was strange since he was the only person aside from Sam and Tucker who would come anywhere near him. Thankfully, other than a warning to keep his weirdness to himself, the football players decided to ignore him and Tucker.

He unpacked fairly quickly, so he decided he had enough time to try to contact his parents. Stepping outside, he tried to make a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end, but the signal must have been poor as the call was extremely choppy. After several minutes of trying to figure out what she was saying, he told her he would ask the Rangers if they had a land line he’d be able to use before he ended the call. He frowned as he checked the bars on his phone. There signal was strong enough that the call shouldn’t have been that choppy, but it was a cheaper phone since he had a bad habit of breaking them, so that could have been the reason.

They ate lunch at a mess hall in the camp complex. It was a fairly modest meal, but the beef and gravy was surprisingly good. Danny mused it was probably because his parents often experimented with cooking which often created strange results. He was also surprised that there was a vegetarian option available for Sam, but the school must have called ahead to let them know.

When they were finishing up, Mr. Lancer announced that one of the Rangers had an announcement. Danny glanced over to see a stern man, possibly in his late thirties, move towards the front of the room. He was fit and weathered, but every once in a while, there was a haunted look in his eyes.

The ranger, Rusty, gave the group a rundown of the general rules. He then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “This is unprecedented, but we are going to need your help for a search for a missing person.” Murmurs of excitement ran through the students. “This is a serious matter, and I request you pay attention. We have our search and rescue people and volunteers out right now looking for a twenty-two year old male. He is Caucasian and was last seen in a red jacket and blue jeans. He goes by Aiden.”

“Because you are not properly trained,” Rusty continued, “I only ask that you walk along the nearby trails for a couple hours in groups of two or more. Each group will be given a walkie-talkie. If you see or hear anything strange, call it into us. Don’t go off the trails. We don’t need more people getting lost today.” He fell silent and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before adding, “If you hear what sounds like screaming, particularly a woman screaming, call it in immediately. Large cats sometimes make that kind of sounds, and we definitely have Bobcats around. Luckily, they tend to avoid people, but we do like to know when we have signs of them.”

Twenty minutes later, the teens separated into their groups. Each group was provided a map, compass, and walkie-talkie. Rusty took them to a large map posted outside the Ranger station and explained a little about the area. The trails he wanted them to take circled the surrounding area and were well marked. Before he let them go, he again warned them to report anything off, but did try to reassure them by letting them know other rangers would be regularly sweeping the area.

“Well, isn’t this a reassuring start to our trip,” Tucker sarcastically mentioned as he tried to figure out the map.

“It can’t be helped,” Sam told him as she ripped the map out of his hands and corrected it before handing it back to him. “They must be desperate if they’re asking students to help.”

“Hey, I’m not used to replying on handheld maps.”

“You could try bringing it up on GPS,” Danny mentioned as they headed towards the one trail.

“That’s a great idea!” Tucker fiddled with his PDA for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Are you okay, dude? You sound a little off.”

“Oh, I guess this would hit a little too close to home,” Sam mentioned as she examined his expression.

Danny sighed as he glanced away from her. “Kind of. Even though I don’t remember it, I was in this exact same situation before. I hope they find the guy, at least for his family’s sake.”

The trio fell silent as they began their walk on one of the easy trails. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though Tucker complained starting about halfway through the hike. Sam tried to distract them by identifying some of the local flora, but it only worked for so long.

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost dinner time. Danny was glad to be back around the group. Although he never mentioned anything to his friends, he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. The trees seemed oppressive at times, and he was honestly surprised he didn’t have a panic attack while they were on the trail.

After dinner, he asked Rusty if there was a phone he would be able to use. Rusty told him that he would have to wait until the morning because they needed the line for the search. Danny understood and thanked the man.

Before he had a chance to head back to his cabin, Rusty called out to him, “While you’re here, make sure you never go off on your own.”

“I know. I mean, my parents drilled that into me for years,” Danny admitted with a shrug.

Rusty examined him closely before stepping closer and whispering, “You’ve witnessed something strange in the past. I can tell by the look in your eyes and how tense you are. In any heavily wooded area, the more open you are to the unusual, the more likely it might show up again.” He walked off without another word. Unnerved, Danny returned to his cabin and waited for his friend.

Tucker still wanted to complain about the amount of walking they did when he returned to the room, which prompted a discussion regarding how in the world Sam was able to enjoy things like that. Danny was about to bring up what the ranger told him when the football players burst into the room. Normally, Danny would just ignore them, but this time, he was intrigued by their excited whispers.

“Hey dweebs,” Dash addressed them, much to Danny and Tucker’s surprise, “did you hear what happened?” An evil grin appeared on his face when they told him they didn’t. “Kwan overheard the rangers talking earlier. You know that guy they were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “Did they find him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t alive.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of chapter notes :

The Cuyahoga (Ky-ah-HOE-ga) Valley is a real place. I chose it for some very specific reasons. 1) The forests in that area are extremely large 2) I’m fairly familiar with the landscape and weather as I grew up in another part of the Allegheny plateau 3) The parks in that area are a bit unusual as you have a mix of privately owned and government owned areas which I’m using to my design as there’s more leeway with what they can and can’t build in those areas 4) some old towns have been “swallowed” by the national park including one famous “helltown”

The Allegheny (Al-ah-gain-ie) plateau is one part of the Appalachian Mountains, which are said to be the oldest mountains in the world. You don’t really have the high peaks or rock terrain associated with other ranges since they’re so worn, but there are a lot of hills, valleys, creeks, and streams. There are also a lot of coal mines since it’s a coal rich area. What’s also very strange about the plateau is that you can be in a town or suburbs, but within 15-20 minutes, you can be on the outskirts of a deep forest. There are also some swamps and marshy areas within the plateau as well.

Also, a lot of the names for natural landmarks in the Allegheny plateau originate from the tribes who originally settled there. There are even some burial mounds in the Cuyahoga area.

#so i heard you like folklore #danny phantom #danny fenton #danny phantom au #dp #dp au #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fantasy #supernatural #sam manson #tucker foley #maddie fenton #jack fenton #vlad plasmius #folklore #sooooooooo much folklore #Verboten

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Winner’s Curse Ch. 22

“Please please come in quickly,” the honorable wizard Yen Sid urged Uma, barely muffling his own coughs from the dusty air of Judge Frollo’s “house.” Quite ironically or perhaps more telling, Judge Frollo’s abode was the basement of a brothel. A cruel twist of temptation or perhaps a house of convenience since it was no secret that Frollo indulged in his hypocritical desires while preaching at his imaginary pulpit during the day.

But Uma wasn’t here to hear how she was destined for hell. It was night, the perfect time to meet the rest of the Anti-Villain Club while Frollo was away.

It felt like the situation was getting more dire the more time past. Amplified by the restlessness Uma felt because they weren’t getting anything done!

Sometimes Uma wanted to give in to her temptation to just dump the Auradonians for themselves. They didn’t really offer her any information or skills that she needed. Plus, they were slow at best. Uncaring and disobedient at worse, far more concerned with their own problems and feelings. They didn’t know how to work with a team or for a cause other than themselves.

Such royal behavior. Must be nice to put your moods first when your need for food, shelter and safety were never in question.

So it was a breath of fresh air to meet with the Anti Villains. Though they did not give her the assuring efficiency of her pirate crew, they were still Vks, her people. And she would need all the allies she could get if they were to stop the Coven.

Yen Sid gestured to the faded rug with, of course, an image of a man bleeding and crucified while a red devilish monster stabbed at his torso with a pitchfork.

Frollo’s erstwhile, rebellious daughter, Claudine took the head of the rug with Diego De’Vil and Yzla on both sides of her. Harold, Jason, Hadie, Big Murph, Hermie Bing, Eddie Balthazar, Celia and a blonde girl that Uma didn’t recognize rounded out the rest of the circle. Uma took place across from Claudine and Yen Sid stood by, pacing around.

“What news can you give us?” Yen Sid asked, starting the meeting abruptly.

Uma hadn’t noticed when Yen Sid signalled to her from the alleyways but the elder wizard looked even older. He was hunched over, not from age but like there was an invisible yoke on his shoulders. His face was riddled with new lines of wrinkles, stress and fatigue. And he was pale. So pale.

Uma had seen that sort of sickly paleness before. The sheen of sweat from a non-existent flu. He looked like death. The Isle after 20 years was starting to take its toll.

Though Uma had no personal attachment to the wizard nor did she care for his method of teaching goodness so Vks would be accepted in Auradon, when they should be accepted because they like any other person should have a home without abuse or poverty, she respected what he was trying to do. He didn’t see them all as one mass of worthless deviants to be scorned and ignored. He could have stayed in Auradon, doing nothing like all the rest of the so-called good guys, but he didn’t.

And this place was slowly killing him.

This place was going to be the death of all them if Uma’s revolution didn’t work.

Uma cracked her neck, inhaled and began to brief them, even though her report didn’t offer much encouragement that their plans were going to be successful.

“Our communications link with King Ben no longer works thanks to the Isle’s crappy service. However, we were able to inform him that the invasion is taking place in less than a week before we were cut off.” “Circe is officially on our side and will assist Yen Sid on more complex, powerful spells against Nerissa and the others.”

“The rest of the Coven-” “Believes.. Well actually tolerates the idea that you and Calix are still loyal. Lala still is on their side but Jade thinks she can convince her to switch again. Zevon and Ginny are lost causes. But you are going to round up your crew, and Harriet’s crew for extra manpower.” Yzla interrupted, and shrugged at Uma’s glare, “Jade told me.” “Ah yes.” Uma pursed her lips, shaking it off to not act too ruffled. She had been aware that Yzla and Jade were close but she didn’t particularly like that they were discussing things without her. That’s how plans got overturned. And people were overthrown.

Uma pushed that thought away as too paranoid. After all, they were all here for the same thing. Escape, not power.

“Yes, so you already know that. I do believe we will be able to persuade the rest of the Isle on our side.” “Wait the rest of the Isle. Like you mean some other kids right? Or the Hun gang. Not not the whole Isle?” Eddie asked. “I meant the rest of the Isle. The adult henchmen. The orphaned kids. The Huns, the mercenaries, the prostitutes. Anyone and everyone who has no power or big villain names.” The rest of the club looked at turns confused, intrigued and disbelieving at her.

“They are like us. They gain nothing from the Coven gaining more power. They get everything if they helped the revolution. No more oppressors. And a promise from King Ben to take all of us off the Isle to better housing, new jobs and actual food. A better life.”

“Whether Mal likes it or not.” Uma added internally. That had been the one thing she managed to speak to King Ben about, and surprisingluy he agreed wholeheartedly. He had seemed horrified when she described the living conditions that children dealt with. The way teens had turned to violence among other things to survive their abusive parents. He didn’t think he’d be able to convince Auradon should be abolished completely. Big villains would probably stay indefinitely. But he was welcome to her suggestions for programs to hep Vks.

“That’s why I need your input. King Ben is putting me in charge of VK Integration Programs and I want to know what we need.” “Uh, that’s nice. A truly Christian thing to do,” Claudine sneered saracastically, she had always been the most doubting of anyone having good intentions what with who she had for a father, “But shouldn’t we get out of here before we plan any VK Integration Programs?”

“This is part of how we are going to persuade the rest of the Isle to help us,” Uma smoothly bridged the two disparting ideas, “We need solid plans with how, what, when. Something solid and real that people can imagine and believe in. When the other Vks and adults hear of these programs, these programs that are as real as when King Ben invited the Core Four, they will be willing to fight for their chance to get in. They will rise up against the Coven so that they could be free.”

Claudine and Diego still looked suspicious, but Jason, Harold, and Big Murph practically had stars in their eyes. Hermie was smiling shyly and Hadie was tapping his chin thoughtfully. He was the first to pitch in.

“I think there should be something for the victims of Hans and Lars.” Everyone turned to look at him which caused the spiky-blue haired teen to flush and clam up. , Uma nodded empathetically, “Continue.” “Well, I mean-uh.Well we all had it bad. But Prince Hans is another level of bad. I went there once with dad for one of Staylan’s parties and I lurked around and man, that dude is nuts. He has photos of his “harem” all “sexy bruised” and stuff. And Lars…”

Uma narrowed her eyes. She didn’t need Hadie to elaborate on Lars. Gil had already told her everything she needed to know about the icy sadist. It was a term that was generally thrown around for an island full of villains with bloodlust, but Gil described the sickeningly calm way Lars acted. How Lars almost described it in seductive terms the way a whip would constrict a person’s throat until the breath left them. The calculating gaze he’d watch the ones he picked as “lovers.” Apparently a sadism that he picked up from his dad.

“Yeah, everyone knows Drizella is his favorite. Poor Dizzy.” Eddie shook his head.

Dizzy had always been left alone with her grandmother, Lady Tremine, but Uma had always assumed that Drizella, like almost all the parents on the Isle, was neglectful and uncaring. She hadn’t thought that Drizella may have been dealing with her own things.

And why wouldn’t she? That was Gil’s mother had to go through everyday with being Gaston’s unfavorite. While Uma was more concerned with the kids on the Isle, she could see now that some adults may need help too.

“Great. Center for sadist victims. What else have we got?”

“Do we have to go to school if we go to Auradon? I just don’t think I need it. My band is doing pretty well and I bet those royal dorks never heard music like mine.” Diego mock-shredded on his guitar

Uma cocked her head. She got his point. She didn’t think there was anything Auradon Prep had that could teach her anything useful. Like smizing as she heard from Celia Faciliar’s letters from Freddie. Plus there were some teens near adulthood like Harriet who probably wouldn’t want to be forced into classes when they could get jobs. Same with adults who never learned to read in their lives and still didnt want to.

“I’ll talk about it with King Ben. What else?” Uma said.

“Food that isn’t covered with flies. Fresh food, not trash.” Hermie said.

“Uh that’s just a given. None of their food is rotten.” Celia told the lithe brunette before Uma could clarify that good food comes with the territory.

Several ideas were thrown around, but the main ones came down to food, homes away from the possible revenge of their parents and others, and none of the Goodness 101 that Celia heard Freddie taking.

“Great. Now the important thing is that you spread the word of these programs to the other. You have to make people want this badly enough that they will fight. Act like its their only chance because it is. From there, I will send my crew to organize them to key points and learn some better and dirtier fight tactics.” Uma announced.

The rest of the Club nodded somberly at the announcement. There was not much emotion from Uma’s command. No relief, excitement or even nervousness. Just a numb sort of nod that they understood. But the words, “This is your only chance,” clearly rang in their heads.

It was now or never.

Everyone slowly got up to leave, thinking their own thoughts except the blonde who slipped to walk next to Uma, expertly slinking through the alleyways.

“Hi, um, I know we haven’t met before but um.. I’m Cosette.” The literally dirty blonde introduced in a fake high voice, clearly highlighting her nervousness, “I’m Gaston’s daughter. Gil’s half sister? You know Gil right? I mean, of course you do. I’ve seen him and everyone knows he hangs with you. I’m sorry I’m babbling. It’s just this is all so new-”

Uma stopped walking so she could give her her full attention. Yes, now that she stopped to actually look at Cosette, she could see a bit of the resemblance. The blonde hair, the high forehead and cheekbones. She looked older, maybe Harriet’s age, though her ample chest peeking from her corset gave the impression of a woman in her 20s. Unlike Gil, she didn’t have the usually confused look in her eyes. Just scared.

That look heightened Uma’s protective instincts. The helpless usually did that, as unvillainous as that was, plus the Gil resemblance.

“Why haven’t I heard of you before?” Uma asked skeptically even though she was pretty sure Cosette was honest.

“Um I’m a girl. Dad wouldn’t acknowledge me. Actually he tried to throw me away and try again which is why Mom left and… it seemed safer to avoid him. But- but I heard from Celia about this Anti-Villain Club when I went in for a reading, and Celia said you���d come so I thought I’d ask you. You know, for permission.” Uma thought. The story was realistic enough. But there was too much to do right now to focus on a family reunion. Unless…

“I will. You have my word. But first, how good would you say your fighting and/or spying skills?”

#uma #celia facilier #hermie bing #eddie balathazar #winner’s curse #yen sid #cosette legume #hadie #claudine frollo #big murph #diego de’vil #yzla #jason #harold #anti villain club #my fanfic #my fanfiction #disney descendants #chapter twenty two

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

#good omens #adam young #good omens headcanons #fanfic #post-canon #please excuse any errors and americanisms #long post #tardis-stowaway's writing & stuff

[milkcrates]

tagged by @jingyismom to share 10 things about myself! it was so lovely to read your post to get to know you better!! can't guarantee my answers will be nearly as interesting but I Already Know I'm gonna ramble (sorry in advance) so for everyone's sake I'll continue under the cut~

1. When I was around 8 yrs old, we had this old broom that looked like the one from kiki’s delivery service and I was convinced it was magical, so I used to run around my backyard with it and try to fly. It was kinda sad though bc every time it didn’t work I’d be like “IT’S BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT BELIEVING HARD ENOUGH” and then I’d try again, thinking ‘this time for sure’, and it. wouldn’t work again. so I’d try Extra Hard and then it still wouldn’t work and eventually I stopped believing in magic LMAO poor cloud :’) but I don’t think I’ve fully grown out of it bc every time I see a broom I’m like... but what if 👀

2. I make playlists for fucking EVERYTHING and most of them are soundtracks to whatever escapist daydream I’m indulging in at the moment, like “songs I’d listen to if I had my own sci-fi spaceship” or “songs for getting stuck in haunted parallel worlds”. And yup, you guessed it, “songs for flying around on a magic broom”. (plus fanfic-writing playlists bc I’m That Person)

3. I love the idea of solo-travelling around the world and meeting new people that way, but really I’m too much of an introvert to be able to do it. I’d probably end up wandering around alone everywhere I go- which actually sounds kinda nice, but I think after a while I’d be too lonely eating all my meals by myself. (Also, having the money? and time? couldn’t be me lmao) But I like to imagine that one day I’ll be able to travel the world with some friends or something! Unrealistic maybe but I can dream 🤧

4. My grandparents live on a farm in rural Romania and I used to go every summer to visit! Cue nostalgic montage of playing with the chickens and stealing apples from the neighbours (sorry neighbours, I was small and hadn’t fully developed a moral compass yet) and swimming in the creek. I don’t go as often anymore because, again. Time and money. Wish I could though, bc I can feel myself starting to lose the language ahh sorry grandma 🥺

5. Speaking of Romania, one time I was hiking in the mountains and it started thunderstorming when we were at the top of the mountain, which was equal parts terrifying and fun bc there weren’t any trees that high to give us any cover. So we were trying to navigate the trail in the rain and then I heard? whistling?? and before you say it was the wind, it Wasn’t The Wind this was like someone whistling a full-on song. But every time I looked around there was no one there and it all felt very surreal and mega creepy. I don’t believe in ghosts but if their existence is ever proven this would be the first thing I’d think of. because wtf.

6. Most of my dreams exist in the same... universe? general area? idk but I keep having dreams that take place in this very large and very confusing university, half of which is in a huge greenhouse, and the other half is all twisty underground tunnels. Not sure how I know it’s a university bc I’ve never dreamed of taking classes there, but idk it just has vibes.

7. Gonna steal a personality trait from @jingyismom and say that I too am very into music, but unfortunately I don't really have any talent for one specific instrument. It's more like, I'm kinda okay at a couple of different instruments– mainly guitar, piano, and alto sax. (and a tiny bit of flute?? but like. I'm Not Good) I was pretty serious about sax for a while when I was doing jazz band!! and I still know how to play all the notes but... I'd probably sound like a goose if I picked it up again now :')

8. I love love love making things with my hands! I made one (1) spoon in a metal-working class a while ago and since then I've been itching to do something similar again, but I don't have any of the equipment for it (especially in, y'know, quarantine). Semi-recently discovered diy how-to-forge-your-own-sword videos and boy oh boy do they make me Yearn!!! imagine! making your own sword! oof

9. oh god these are all so long so I'll try to make these last ones short dskjhds I love How To Train Your Dragon and I have the entire OST memorized cause it's just That Good

10. um. umm ummmmm omg idk anything else. I used to eat play-dough as a kid? lmao

I think I've seen this game go around a bit so I'm sorry if you've already been tagged but- @sheeptopus, @milkoolongtee, @aurltas, @fantasiavii bc I'd like to get to know y'all better 🥺 BUT absolutely no pressure!! also no pressure to write as much as I did I just don't know how to shut up

and to anyone else that wants to do this, pls consider yourself tagged (if you think I'm not talking about you, I'm Talking About You) don't be shy!! 💖💖💖

#we all ate weird shit as kids tho #most of these were gonna be abt romania and i was like... did i use up all my Interesting Points(tm) in my childhood?? #and now i am potato? Yes #i think past me would be kinda disappointed w how boring my life is now #'you mean you're not exploring the world and saving dragons?' 'nope but hey i'm writing fanfic' #(gets smacked by 7yo cloud) #again tysm for the tag!! i love learning more abt moots! 💞💞 #this was fun it felt like a sleepover :') #tag games #not cql

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tryst-Chapter 10

I did it! I finally edited this thing. Still not completely happy, but they are, so 🤷‍♀️s! If you enjoy let me know. I love a like, reblogs are love, and anons are lifeblood! 😘!!

Tam

Inglewood

There seems to be an equilibrium they have reached, Helene decided one balmy afternoon home alone of her tiny apartment patio. She pictured it like a piece of a Johnny Cash song, them walking the golden line in the middle of U.S. streets. If they were to veer either way the emotional equivalent of oncoming traffic would flatten them.

Though she supposed that line felt pretty roomy, like an estate broker's favorite word, spacious.

Maybe it's a tightrope, and any imbalance means they smash upon the hard, unforgiving ground.

Helene had convinced herself that this was her own conception, that her lover, her boss, her Harry, didn't feel it as well.

Until she heard the album.

She'd been at the Paris listening parties, so she'd heard snippets, and she'd been in the studio a time or two, so she had heard rough stones being polished to diamonds, chord progressions and roughed out lyrics and melodies. That was all up until this point.

Helene was offered a choice, the whole of staff was, to hear the album early or with everyone else.

She had declined. Because she had a very clear picture of what it was about, who it was about. It stung. Not because she was unaware of his sorrow, or how he missed her, the other French girl, the one worthy of homage, but because, she had been there too- with him too. Every step of the way and through Paris and Rome, and Japan and Australia too.

It hurt.

As much as her eyes were open, muscle memory of the drill, the words cemented on her brain to console herself. He was in an open relationship, Helene was not in that relationship, she was simply a reason for the unbolted window. Always making cameos, never the headliner.

So, the album, as great as she kept hearing it was, would be confirmation of her role, or lack thereof. She wasn't ready for that truth.

She'd better get ready. Helene would be hearing it soon no matter what, and seeing him. It had been a little bit since Cancun, but the show was going on, and she was involved, expected. It wouldn't do to cry over her lack of lyrical odes in front of the fans, they all knew her name and face, and she wasn't so good a liar they'd believe a disclaimer of happy tears.

Before the first show went on, her own show needed to get on the road. It was time for her to break a leg, or her heart as it were. Her set up was optimal for a breakdown.

Empty hotel room, qui Tissues on the toilet seat, qui Full hot bath, qui Goblet of red wine, tout a fait.

Helene was as ready for heartbreak, or it's residue if that's where she was now, as ready as one can be.

Her clothes are easy to quit, sweats and a TPWK tank exclusive to crew. The water is hot, her skin will redden to match her tear streaked face.

The level of melodrama she's reaching for this is impressive to even herself.

"Allons-y" she mutters and presses play.

And Clairemeant, she loves it. From first cord, she can imagine being in his stupid convertible driving to Shanghri la. Helene wishes he had played this when they went, a moment of California dreamin. She knows the next couple, as everyone does, in his world at least. Soon the whole world probably. They were radio besties, not just friendly.

It's the next few tracks where her preparations pay off. The tears come. For him, for her, and for Helene herself. The worst part isn't even her own pain; the waterworks are for Harry. She can hear his broken heart and bad decisions.

God, she hopes he does not count her among those.

But She, She is a new place to be. It's exactly what she would expect him to make and miles beyond expectation.

Then Sunflower, god, is it ridiculous to feel like there are glimmers of them? If kraft services counted as kitchens. It's the toothpaste. It's the fact that on their first go, they didn't know each other. Not really. She was his employee. She knew him, intimately, from all the watching, much less creepy than it sounds when it was her job. But she was somewhere between an insider and an outsider. Always an observer, never a participant was the lot of a photographer.

Except when Harry pulled her into the shenanigans, onto his lap, or some other harmless flirty gesture she couldn't forget.

Helene never lived in a canyon, though all of Paris seemed to rise around her some days. That one was nothing to do with her, and after a couple songs reprieve her heart seized all over again.

Helene loved that he'd made a song for his motto. It had all the silly he made cool. Even if he broke her heart sometimes, she loved how her kindness grew watching him cultivate and sow his own. The harvest was in the venues, and her heart.

After that happy high, she's not ready for the closer. Though she suspects she may never have been, no matter practice or preparation.

Fine Line throws her, thrills her, and makes her think.

Is it her? Is it them? Is it like most of the rest,  Camille?

Helene is aware she is simplifying. Music isn't exactly clear in its inspiration or intention. There may be shades of her throughout.

In this last song, she feels more than shades.

Had they ever been anything besides a fine line? Somewhere between one thing and the next.

She hesitates to think something more, that denigrates their friendship. Romance isn't necessarily superior, that's a bought and sold fairy tale she has tried to unlearn.

But, if she is honest, being together would have felt like more, better. Because she wanted him, wanted him to want her.

Some of the lyrics trouble her.

She didn't think she was unknowable though. Maybe at the end, when she let him open her completely everywhere, and then promptly hopped over into one territory and only tread their old familiar line  accidentally once.

Could she ask him? Would she? Tomorrow?

Non, that's not like her. Helene's direct in desire, but not in definition. Probably why they got stuck walking the line.

But they were alright. What a comfort that was.

Whatever the truth, the inspiration, when she heard it live, tomorrow, she would pretend or hyperextend. Believe. She'd believe it was about her.

———————————————————————————

Helene always forgets what it's like to see his face in person, be in a room with him. On paper and in her mind when she is away, she can rationalize. 'He's handsome. But not extraordinary. You know better looking men, have shared more time with some.'

And then he is nearby, and her entire body is aware of him.

Moreover, so is everyone elses. That is his power, super prowess. He has this energy that galvanizes every libido in range. The hell of it, it turns on a dime and you want to ruffle his hair just after riding his face. He's so sexy and frustratingly endearing.

His gap between adorable and sexy is so small, and bowtied to perfection.

"What's new pussycat?" He whispers near her left shoulder before she can even fully take him in.

"Enfin!" She could see the rear of her brain case. Harry turned her body into his hug and was responding to her exaggerated exclamation.

"See Jeffrey, I told you she had the best eye roll!" He giggles a bit and holds her long, in that way anybody else probably couldn't get away with. Someone might rightly think they'd tasted every part of one another if he didn't hold everybody like this.

Helene takes the opportunity to smell him. He always smells good to her, even his stink. Sweat drenched and ball's empty or dandied up and stage worthy, he tasted like her first meal out when she returns home to Paris.

" I cannot believe you remember that conversation." She said into his neck.

It quelled his laughter.

"How could I forget the look of disgust on you and Sarah's faces. Too good to not use!"

"You gonna use it on Sarah too? Or would Mitch put your nose between your pretty eyebrows?"

"Don't mock my eyebrows!" He pulls back, but she's still within the walls of his body, bracketed by his arms. "They just grow like this."

"Qui," she snorted. "Don't forever I've photographed you being groomed, ma belle."

"She's  just cleaning them up! I swear."

"She just took your man card Harry." Jeff 's snickering.

"He didn't have a man card since long ago." She and Jeff laugh together.

"Heeeey!" His offended face goes soft around his smiling eyes. He tilts her body away from the small backstage crowd and she wonders where they are going. She's still going; her toes have all but left the ground while he leads her with his whole body.

She follows her heart.

Helene always feels small, but he makes her feel deliciously tiny. He leads her down a corridor, past people he waves to and she would have stopped to hug in other circumstances. She'd missed this circus family. Finally, she just has to ask, "Harry, where are we going? I don't have my equipment." If he wanted her to capture the moment, she needed a camera. He did this sometimes, this drag to a piece of personal history or set up he saw well in his mind's eye. His enthusiasm always contagious.

He didn't exactly have that energy going on now, he seemed nervous rather than excited.

"That's a bit unfortunate. S'ok though I only want a mental picture of your face. When you tell me." He pulls her through a door, a different dressing room from last time, which she realizes upon entry is actually an office.

"Where are we?" Helene asks as he positions himself between her and the door like she might make a break for it.

"Irving's office." He explains off hand. "Now tell me, what' d you think?"

"Quoi?" She can feel the screw of her face to the left. She has no idea what he could mean, she'd been so busy keeping up with his footsteps, she had no idea what he was on mentally. They didn't always connect easily, he wasn't always an open book, but she'd figured out how to crack him a time or two. It was easier with a camera at her eye, or both of them naked.

"Of the album, my album." He pinches his bottom lip and wrings his hands a tad.

"The album?" Her brain's slow. Why were they talking about this?

"You' re the only one who hasn't text me, or responded. That's included I mean."

"Included?" What?

"Please stop repeating me in one word questions, Helene!" He looks up and blows out a breath. "Did you like it? Are you upset?"

"Upset?"

"Helene!"

"Harry, lower your voice."

"Apologies." He takes her hand. "Now, did you like it?"

Ah, it was easy to forget how praise was like water on a neglected plant to him. He just wanted assurance that her love of his work would fill her photos again.

"Qui, clairement, it's gorgeous."

"And?" He looks, she couldn't quite place it, Like a puppy trying to sneak into your bed. Hopeful but preemptively scolded.

"And?" She opens her palms to him, subconsciously trying to release his nerves about whatever he's asking her opinion of.

"Did you hear it? At all." He rolls his eyes, but it was so clearly at himself that Helene takes no offense. "Hear us I mean?"

"I didn't want to presume." She starts after a pregnant pause.

"Presume, tournesol, presume." He leans close and she can really smell him. Not pungent like Mexico after hours of sun, or after a night on stage. But, days lazing or loitering in Italy under warm skies.

She shakes her head at him. She felt a spark of recognition that she'd classified as hope during that song, but, "that one is not all me."

"No, not entirely. It is an idea, a feeling fleshed out, but an ode none the less." He assures her, all eye contact and vulnerability.

He's closer now, enough to touch. And she could have? Would, but she had a more important question, a deeper song to address. Though she had to admit, most days Sunflower was her favorite. "Am I in any others?"

"Glimpses. Though one is mostly you." He gives her an encouraging smile, mischief around its edges.

She sucks in a breath. She really wants to know, she's become so much more that she was since she met him. Braver, kinder, richer in many ways. Could she be direct as well? What would Dominique, her most forward friend, do? "And the ending. That feels like a beginning?"

"Fine line?" His dimple's out. Helene might feel upset that he's a cat and she's the mouse if he wasn't a Tom to her Jerry.

"Qui, fine line?" If she just lifts her hand, his jaw will fit just so, always has., or the beautiful curve of his shoulder.

"That one," he's smiling like the time he presented her cake on her birthday. "I realized in Mexico is you!"

"Not until Mexico?" Now she didn't want to touch him, not even his fine shoulder.

"I knew while writing, the glimpses of you, but only one part was, her, was" he swallowed. She hoped it wasn't still pain slicing his throat as he forced the feeling down. She'd even take regret. "Camille" he took her hand. More friendly than the conversation. "The rest, the hope, is you." The nerves were foreign to him when he was with her, he didn't wear them well, his only awkward fit.

Helene let's her eyes fall closed while his breath wafts over her face. That was more Harry. The taste of caffeinated mint. The familiarity messes with her head, it's a bit false but never forced.

She wants to accept his compliment, even though he's undercut it with an inconvenient truth. Their relationship was not one. They were friends, they slept together sometimes, he was her boss and her muse. But they were never together, and  "that's nice, Harry, but, forgive me if it seems, well convenient."

"Convenient?" Oh, his brows are as tangled as his growing curls. Damn him.

"Me belle, it's hard not to notice who is not here, but everywhere on the album." He narrows his eyes in response to her observation. "And I also have someone else to call baby."

"You're with someone?" His pretty brows nearly touch above his nose.

"Qui." It was a bit of a stretch, really. A man she is dating, fucks occasionally. They're not exclusive, and she likes him, Rene, but no more has developed With anybody else, since she gave Harry Carte Blanche with her body. She had liked him, them, a few of them, thought they had potential. She supposed they still did, it just hadn't developed. Helene has never pushed them down the hill.

It hadn't stopped her from being with Harry in Mexico.

Helene talks about him now, hoping it will slow down the ball rolling from the top of the hill in Harry's mind. If he'a just realized he wrote about her and still believed sharing that notion just after she spent several hours marveling, begrudgingly, over his words to another woman, her clothes would fall off over one song for herself, well, he might be right. But she needed some kind of defense mechanism.

She's lacking a chastity belt, Rene's specter would have to do.

"How long?" He asks quietly.

"A bit." She wasn't going to give him details. That was showing him the chinks in her honor.

"Oh, ok, well, that's good." He clears his throat, looks at her with murky eyes. "I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you, as well." She hugs him, to touch him and reassure him. "This album, tour, will be a great success."

"Yeah, yeah." He says trying to believe it. "Now that it's out there, I hope so. But we are going to make it fun. You up for some fun, Helene? This time out?"

She's  confused, last time was fun, but she supposed her life was changing so fast, she had no grand expectations to carry on her shoulders and no one broke her heart during tour.

That came after. He must be going into this round with a different attitude.

"Yeah, fun sounds good." He high fives her and she can't help but laugh at him. It turns into another hug, and all the distancing she'd done during this conversation ceased when he kissed her flaxen hair.

"Break, break a leg, Harry." He smiles, the nerves making it quiver just a bit as they go their separate ways.

—————————————————————————— The album closer is approaching and Helene is suddenly nervous. Sunflower kinda made her shake, luckily it's such a damn happy jam, her feelings didn't sweep her away. It's already been a magical night, and she knows the magic doesn't end with the album. Harry has some amazement up his pink sleeve.

His outfit had been distracting, not like Paris or Madrid, but it's so pretty and such a cute silhouette. Helene realizes while she is snapping away. It was distracting because she wanted it herself. It might overwhelm her small frame, but that pink would look good on anyone. He might loan it to her, Sarah and Mitch wore his clothes sometimes.

She's at least as close.

Closer.

He says something before he begins, and it's loud so Helene has to translate it twice, figure out his words and then think them in French. The song's started before she realizes he's said its a difficult song to perform for the first time.

She can't put her finger on why, but she feels for him, for herself. Her brow is knit up like that time she tried to make a Christmas scarf and the little piece of her heart she took back from him breaks free from its stitches and goes to him, right where he stands on his big stage.

The music starts and it's the build that gets her. Just like the first time. She admits she listened to this one repeatedly, Listen one- physical experience, listen two- listening for the glimpses she thought she had caught of herself. Listen three- cry time.

Helene does not want to weep, but it seems she might be in good company. Harry's doing his closed eyes thing. She teased him about that onetime.

"Is it easier to hear how good you are if you close your eyes?" She'd asked this from the head of the bed while he lay across the bottom rubbing her feet.

"What?"

She supposed it was a nonsequiter. "When you sing and when you fuck, you close your eyes sometimes. Is it so you can focus on the screaming?" She pushed him with her foot and gave him a flirtatious smile.

"I don't need to hear the screams to know I'm good." He'd smirked at her and she would have kicked him off the expensive high hotel bed, but he continued too quickly, "To be honest," oh he was serious now, "It's when I get emotional. Or I need to focus."

"Like to hit a note?" She likes his explanation. He keeps his eyes closed sometimes when he's inside her. She hopes that, she, makes him feel; she's too afraid to ask him about that though.

"Or to make you hit a note!" He'd dropped his emotional temperature quickly, grinned and tackled her. "Let's see if we can get you to a G7!"

She did not hit any whistle notes, her orgasm had actually been pretty silent, but the build up had been harmonious.

The conversation came back to her now. His eyes were definitely closed, as they had been during Falling, and a few other times. But, he'd said this was hers, theirs, and he seemed to be feeling, if her memory served, and she remembered so much about Harry, she trusted it.

And then, as her eyes are unquestionably about to spill over to wet the forum floor with her fellow Harry fans, his open. They find her like he's been tracking her all night, and that may be true, though that is more her job, to always be aware of him and his location. But she's rooted there now. She may never leave this spot, Because there is emotion in his eyes, it's not humid like hers, but it's intense.

He eventually shifts to connect with a paying customer, but Helene is a mess. She has to go back stage to collect herself.

She almost misses Stevie, and even if he wrote songs about her, Helene is fairly certain she would get fired for that. The rest of the show is a blur. She snaps it by muscle memory.

Helene also doesn't stay for the after party, it's all to much. It's a departure from her normal behavior, she would almost always stay, with her camera, and to be with everybody. Tonight she's planned to. She missed them dearly, she just couldn't after that moment.

Harry doesn't have that luxury, it's his party, which is why he doesn't knock on her hotel room door until 3am.

She thought she'd got away with it.

Helene's still awake, barely, and when she answers the door, she knows she's mussed. He's seen her like this before, he's caused it. She's too tired to care much.

"Harry," she sighs. "It's late, Cherie."

"You left, and I needed to talk to you." He walks in like he owns the place. She supposes he did pay for it. He just turns to look at her, and if she didn't already feel exhausted beyond measure, those eyes on her may have sparked the fire he lit long ago in her belly.

"Go ahead." The sooner he unburdens himself the better, she looks longingly at her bed.

And then he just sighs and says, "are we?"

She's doubts the face she makes is attractive, "are we what?"

"Alright? Are we alright?"

God, that's a major question. What they are is a shadow of existence, some half way place between what they could have been, what they should be, and then what they are. It a very strange set of loops, like the comparison charts from school. They are colleagues, no doubt, friends, thankfully, and lovers, occasionally. Do any of those designations mean they are alright?

Because she doesn't want occasional lovers. She's put distance between them because she wants more. Halfway is not alright to her.

"Helene?" Oh, she's just been biting her lip this entire time. She really wants to go to bed, but, they should get this done before tour. Does she tell him she wants to be the dead center of his life, or just leave it at they are alright and go to dreamland.

Either are scary in their own right and he's distracting.

He's wearing comfy clothes, the yellow shirt and large trousers she'd snapped him arriving at the forum in. The shirt hugs his body and it makes it difficult for her to pretend she doesn't want to be really open about her feelings. Sometimes isn't enough, not anymore, maybe not ever.

"Let's sit."

"Uh oh." Harry exhales.

"Uh oh?" She looks up at him.

"Is the next sentence 'we need to talk?'"

"Well, we do, or you wouldn't be here on the wrong side of the sun."

"Fair enough." He sighs and sits back, his head hits the back of the couch. He's stretched out, and her small frame would fit well between his hips and chin. She's tempted to do it, to straddle him. Then the talk won't happen, and all these things will be left up in the air. And she will be narrative adjacent, still.

But she's in his narrative, right? If the song is about her? Is that enough?

So she sits with him. "Harry," she takes his hand and he looks so hopeful. "What does it mean to be alright?" Helene is surprised by her own question. It's direct, perhaps not as direct as it could be. She's unsure what he's asking. Is he asking her for more of the same? Today's same, where they are flirty friends and colleagues. Or the alright of yesterday, where she's his friend and employee with benefit.

That's not alright.

Or does it mean something else, something more. Like the feeling after the build in the music, hopeful, open ended: a chance taken.

He finally yanks his eyes open, and Helene remembers he performed an entire concert and went to an after party. That he is center stage in many peoples life. Is she insane to want to be his locus? Harry opens his mouth, then closes it.

"I guess, I don't know."

Helene nods. It's not a surprise, he just wants harmony and everybody happy. He may not have thought beyond them being ok on the surface. He's not ready for the conversation she thought he was asking about.

"We're fine Harry. You're tired, you should get to bed." She stands to show him to the door,  is suddenly back to wholly exhausted herself.

He's shaking his head.

"Harry's it's 330. We need sleep."

"I didn't like that you left."

"You don't get to make me stay at a party. It's not part of my duties."

He's still shaking his head. "No, I'm not saying this right. It's not alright."

"What isn't?" God, she's frustrated, wants him to be clear.

"That you don't want to be around me. I miss you." Well that's obvious for him, and wrong.

She closes her eyes. "Did you ever consider, maybe it's that I want to be around you too much."

"What do you mean?" He looks puzzled but there is light around his eyes, blue skies and clouds.

She sighs. Someone has to be vulnerable, Might as well be her. She knows how straightforward he just was must pain him. "I mean, I don't want to be with you at the party," he's cringing. "well, not just." She takes a fortifying breath. "I miss you too, but I miss what we could have been as well. And I can't," she could do this. "I can't just sleep with you when you are feeling lonely anymore. We are either friends or we are more. It's not fair to me. I can't walk the fine line anymore."

He's looking at their interlaced fingers. A drop hits her hand.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers

Her heart breaks. He doesn't want this. She tries to take her hand from his. Dammit, why did they have to do this in her room? She can't run away now.

"No, no." He looks  up. Why's he sad when she's getting rejected? "I'm sorry I took you for granted, or made you feel like you were my second choice."

She'd not said that.

"I can read between your lines, Helene." He touches her cheek. "I had feelings for you, but I was already with Camille. And then, I was mourning. And it takes me bloody ages."

She wants to role her eyes. She supposes it's kinda true, but he was mourning his rejection.

"I've realized since then, my heart was bruised, but my ego was what got broken. And I wasn't in a place to offer you anything. Not until Mexico, but then things just got busy and we didn't talk."

"We never do." She purses her lips.

"We need to." He holds her chin in his hands. "So, I'm asking. Will you cross the line with me?"

God, her heart is swelling, and she's afraid to look at his face. Is he really asking what she is hearing? "Harry, amor, what does that mean? I can't speak in metaphors." She can, but it's trouble with him. He's a metaphor himself with his figurative edges and blurred meanings.

He sighs, chuckles to himself, and lets go of her hand. He cups her face and draws her eyes up to the tide pools of his. The tides in, he's teary. "I want to do it together, not have you cross the line hoping I follow, or me waiting on the side for you thinking you understood what I was asking for. But together."

She huffs, she stilll, always, doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about. "What line Harry?" She assumes when someone is holding your face gently you shouldn't be yelling in their face in return, but he is so frustrating. "I still don't know what you are saying."

He laughs at himself, or at her, or them. "I'm saying, we should do this, you and me. Like a real relationship. Not just when we are together on tour or meeting up for me to work. But you come home with me to London, or Malibu, or wherever. Or I go with you to Paris, and we don't leave."

"Are you suggesting we move in together?" She's smiling, finally. The edges of her lips would be at her  earlobes if they could be. "You may want to ask me to be your girlfriend first."

"We've been moving at a glacial pace for years. But that's not really what I meant—"

"I know." She shakes her head fondly. "So?"

"So-" he takes a big breath. "Will you be my girlfriend, Helene?"

Oh god, this is what it feels like to look at the sun. To be the sun. "Yes!" It's a whisper, but full of emotion if not voice.

She's not sure why she is so overcome by it that she can't speak, but she can move, she's straddling his lap a moment later.

He laughs, "it's hard to kiss you when you are giggling." But he's vibrating along with her and his bunny teeth clack against hers just as much. His hand is in her hair and it's not until it slides down to cup her jaw that she can't laugh anymore.

Not when he is looking at her like that. His heart is in his eyes and her face is in his hands. Harry's eyes always sparkle, but the combination of mirth and awe shakes her like an earthquake.

The kiss goes better then, or it more closely resembles a kiss, in that their lips form to one another, going from right angle to straight line to acute in time. His tongue has always been devilish and she wonders if it's vocal training that renders it so.

She's more vocal than him, as always, and she's panting his name when his hand engulfs her throat before sliding her silk pajama top off her shoulder to kiss her neck, collarbones, the tops of her breasts. Her nipples stand high on her plum sized mounds and they always trill along the roof of his mouth deliciously. His other hand is around her hip and he's gripping it fiercely to move her over him.

She's halfway there on his question alone, but their venue seems a bit uncomfortable. Helene almost reconsiders her position on their positioning when Harry has that perfect mouth between her breasts and below and the back of the couch is perfect to hold onto while she arches back, back, back. She's bent in two when he pulls her up to his mouth.

This time she is getting his teeth. Why's he giggling again, this is serious business? If she could just concentrate, get him to focus for a moment, she can have her first orgasm of the night.

"Harry, Cherie." She tríes again, her tongue ready to slide over his lips and into that pattern that makes her shiver when his teeth block her again. "Please kiss me!" She's frustrated.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to move to the bedroom, girlfriend, but you're very focused." He's still smiling and her ire melts at the appellation.

Does she want to go to the bedroom? She won't have the back of the couch to hold onto, but she will have Harry.

She stands and drops her loose shorts. As is usual, Harry has most of his clothes on and she's suited up for her birthday.

"Alright." He breathes and she's in his arms and he's finally giving her the tonguing she loves en route. Her in the altogether seems to have finally got him from mirth to girth, pressing against her and filling the void at the apex of her thighs the way only he has.

She's happy Harry seems to have been enjoying their bodily arrangement as much as she is, when he sits on the side of the bed and maneuvers to the middle with her still draped around his waist. He's said before he loves how maneuverable she is, and she is loving her tiny stature at the moment too.

Her hands are pulling his t shirt free and tossing it away. She loves the golden hue of his skin, he's always a little tan, even in winter. The milk and honey of their bodies against one another always delights her. She goes for the button on the jeans she'd like for herself. They won't fit her, but he always fits, snug at first and then just right.

He kicks them free and then she's back on top of him doing the wiggle to get his inside her, pressing over the largest part before the pressure keeps up and then everything slips into place, the audible pop of his tip still her favorite part.

They both exhale, and smile into each other's eyes. Helene touches the corner of his eyes and they twinkle back at her. "Hi boyfriend."

He chuckles and she moans over the tiny vibration it causes. "You're ready then?"

He already knows the answer to this question. Helene braces her hand behind her while she nods and then his hand is beneath her ass flexing her pelvis over his own.

He really is her prince of rock and roll. She rolls up over him and rocks over his dick until he's closing his eyes and drilling her hips. He's split her open, bottom up and it's intense.

"Give me a minute." He chokes after less time than she expected.

"Too much?" She likes that the shoe is on the other foot, usually she needs a break from his unrelenting physicality, Harry the athlete in the bedroom as well.

She supposed it takes emotion to force Harry to a quick release.

She's keeps flexing around him until he puts his head to her collarbone and then looks up to glare at her. "You're walking a fine line!" He says before he laughs at his own joke.

"I'm not waking anywhere. I'm loving you." She let's that sit there while her hips are quiet. That's all she's going to say about that. He stares at her intensely.

"Let me see you love me, then." She likes when he gives orders, even when their sex is closers to making love than fucking.

Helene obliges him, caves her belly back and starts the ride again, notches her head next to his, like the teeth of zipper, so she can watch with him.

It gets her there, but he's a little ahead of her. He's stilling her hips again. "Stop." It's a beg.

"Just come bebe." She whispers into his sweaty skin.

"You're not ready." He protests.

"We have all night, you can spread me open, all. night. and all day tomorrow, and after." She smiles at him. "All the time in the world to know me!"

"Yeah?" He's gleeful like a kid finding tooth fairy money.

She nods and starts moving, directs his gaze down. The edge of pleasure closer than she expects. Harry is rarely wrong about pleasure. Helene's happy her climb surprises them both.

She reaches the peak and plummets with him on the rollercoaster of emotions tonight's brought. Screams with the thrill.

It's more than fine, the white light explosion behind her eyelids. They've found the right side of the line.

They'll be alright.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #Inglewood #fine line live #chapter 10 #halene #tryst

[doctorcanon]

The Final Days of Ryoko Shinonome (Modern AU Idea)

Just something that randomly came to me. A modern AU with the Older pilots in mind. It would take place in Okinawa during the closure of several Army Bases (that have reopened since) in 2007 when Bush was in office and leaving several Japanese and American servicemen who fought in the Middle East at the height of the conflict without any VA benefits, unable to join the Japanese Defense Force and many with debilitating injuries, specifically loss of eye sight. Will handle subjects such as: Terminal Illness, Narcissistic Parental abuse, PTSD, Infidelity and Death = like lots of discussion about death.

Ryoko Shinonome: A 35 year old civil engineer who has been diagnosed with metastatic brain cancer. Despite battling it for a number of years, she now has a very limited time to live. Suffering from cognitive impairment and Vascular Dementia, she needs constant round the clock care. Her adopted brother Ei moved in with her after her fiance Tetsuya suddenly called off the wedding shortly after her diagnosis. However, she often forgets and Ei has to break her heart all over again. On the days she’s aware of her condition, she’s started getting her affairs in order and is currently working with Renya Gouto to arrange her own funeral and cremation. 

Ei Sekigahara: Ryoko’s younger brother, though they aren’t related by blood. Her primary caretaker due to the fact that he’s recently been released from military service and doesn’t have a 9 to 5 job. The stress of Ryoko’s care and his own personal demons have really done a number on his mental health. He ends up having to hire a hospice nurse who encourages him to attend a support group for veterans. Can and will kill Tetsuya Ida on sight. 

Iori Fuyusaka: Ei Sekigahara’s girlfriend and Tsukasa Okino’s Younger sister, a beloved elementary school teacher and all around ray of sunshine. She and Ryoko didn’t really get along in the first place but the latter got violent with her during one of her episodes. She truly does want to help, but only seems to be making the situation worse. Something her mother Chihiro says she’s quite good at.

Keitaro Mirua: A Routine Care hospice nurse hired by Ei Sekigahara for Ryoko, also a former soldier. Honestly, the man is a goddamn saint; he’s sweet, kind and maybe even a little shy. He’s been through a lot after he was injured in the field. Now that he has control over his life, he wants to help others. He attends a support group for former combat veterans and encourages Ei to attend as well. Trying to find the perfect ring to propose to his girlfriend.

Takatoshi Hijiyama: Miura’s closest friend and Tsukasa Okino’s husband. Also attends the same support group. Really, really struggling to adjust to civilian life, even more so after realizing that his injuries are more severe than originally thought. He has, however, discovered a great love of cooking through his physical therapy and enjoys taking care of his often workaholic husband, sometimes too much if you ask Tsukasa.

Tsukasa Okino: Former coworker and friend of Ryoko Shinonome and very talented Biomedical Engineer. Tends to get really lost in his work and hasn’t heard from Ryoko in a long time and is shocked to hear that her condition is terminal. This puts a lot into perspective not just with his husband but with his family. He decides to reach out to his estranged sister Iori. Unfortunately, Iori wants to bring their mother into it.

Yuki Takamiya: A physical therapist who once treated Shinonome and became pretty close with her and Ei. Occasionally comes by to drop off meals and see how Sekigahara is doing. Sometimes she invites him to the kickboxing gym to get him out of the house, she thinks that the support group is a good idea. After all, therapy helped her a great deal after her husband passed away.

Shu Amiguchi: Met Yuki Takamiya while visiting Ryoko, his former coworker, at the hospital and hasn’t left her alone since. A fellow engineer, he’s much smarter than he lets on. He works pretty closely with Okino too. He was actually really close to Ryoko since she dated his brother Tetsuya. Ei doesn’t really like him, but his weekly visits make Ryoko happy so they don’t talk that much. He believes that Tetsuya broke up with her because of her condition and that was the last straw and he stopped speaking to him.

Natusno Minami: Miura’s girlfriend, Iori’s coworker and Yuki Takamiya’s little sister. The absolute life of the party and a joy to be around. She’s the reason Keitaro Miura is still alive. Knows Ei more through the kickboxing gym and hasn’t really made the connection that Keitaro’s newest patient is Ei’s sickly sister that he keeps mentioning. She and Miura have been dating for almost six years now and she’s really starting to wonder if they are ready to spend their lives together.

Tomi Kisaragi: The elementary music teacher at the same school as Natsuno and Iori and a voice teacher outside of those work hours. The sounding board for a lot of relationship issues despite the fact that she’s not that helpful. She and Tsukasa Okino are old friends from high school. She’s the one who convinced him to help Megumi get a job at Shikishima as an engineer. May or may not have a history with Tetsuya Ida. She doesn’t like to talk about it.

Nenji Ogata: Tomi’s Not-boyfriend and a supervisor at Shikishima’s sales branch is often used as a liaison with the R&D department. Since he was desperate to make a name for himself outside of his family name, Nenji has an...interesting past. After falling on some hard times, his father, a former executive of Shikishima, gave him a job. Needless to say, his department doesn’t like him and he takes on a lot of extra work and stresses himself out. A frequent visitor to the kickboxing gym so he knows Takamiya, Minami, Hijiyama and Sekigahara pretty well. 

Juro Kurabe: Once known as Juro Izumi. An old friend of Ei Sekigahara who suffered a TBI in the field and is basically a different person. Underwent cognitive therapy alongside several other patients including Ryoko Shinonome. He and Ryoko are close friends and he’s just devastated about her diagnosis. Another person who will assassinate Tetsuya Ida on sight. Works with Yuki Takamiya quite a bit but is having a lot of trouble with mobility. 

Megumi Yakushiji: She really looks perfect on the outside. She’s great at her job, a great cook and a near perfect caretaker to her husband Juro. However, appearances can be deceiving. The man she married and the man she’s taking care of are two different people. But her love for Juro might not be enough to get her through their hardest day, sometimes he doesn’t even remember her. There’s only one person who sees the cracks in her facade, not her best friend Tomi or her coworker Tsukasa but Tsukasa’s husband Takatoshi who keeps asking her for recipes. 

Renya Gouto: An Undertaker at Ashitaba City’s Death Services and Mortuary. He knew Ei and Ryoko in high school but now is making arrangements for Ryoko’s cremation and general funeral services. Out of everything he’s done, he’s never spoken to someone who wants to arrange their own funeral and is the only other person who knows that Ryoko is arranging her own funeral without Ei knowing. He’s a close friend of Dr. Morimura therefore he’s familiar with Iori and Tsukasa. That’s not a good thing.

Chihiro Morimura: Dr. Chihiro Morimura is a retired oncologist who is trying to repair her relationship with her kids Iori and Tsukasa. Unfortunately, she sucks at it. While she can help Iori with her situation with Ei and his sister, she and Tsukasa will probably never get along. Who would have thought that years of narcissistic abuse would affect their relationship?

Tetsuya Ida: Ryoko’s ex-fiancee. Broke up with Ryoko after she was diagnosed with brain cancer. Has no idea about her severe condition but wouldn’t be surprised. He still works at Shikishima but not in the engineering department. Refuses to talk about her and is quite aware that several people are out for his head. He doesn’t care.

Miwako Sawatari: A kindergarten teacher who’s a bit of a gossip but really does it out of love. She knows a little bit about everyone. She works at Iori and Natsuno’s school, is a close friend of Nenji, she’s one of Yuki’s patients, and volunteers at Ashitaba Death Services. What I’m saying is, she’s the only person who knows exactly what’s happening.

#13 sentinels #13 sentinels: aegis rim #13 sentinels spoilers

[modestlyabsurd]

Breaking Bread (Loki x Reader)

"Mm."

A ... grunt? Growl? A hum? A noise. A deep noise, and it came from Loki's bed. "Where are you going?" he asks, heavy sleep in his voice.

Damn. You really tried not to wake him up.

"I was just gonna go look for a vending machine or something."

"A what?"

You shift on your feet, "Y'know, a vending machine or a drink machine. You put in some money, you pick what you want to eat and it pops it out for you."

Loki stretches his arms, "Sounds very Midgardian." He slouches back against the headboard. "And you're going to go search for one of these machines by yourself?"

"Well, yeah."

"Really? On this foreign garbage planet, in the middle of the night, dressed in your sleep wear?"

"I'm hungry, okay?" you whine, now feeling stupid about the whole thing. "I didn't eat dinner earlier."

"You wasted the Grandmaster's kind, generous, complementary food service?" Loki chides.

"Oh, well excuse me for liking my food to not be wiggling around and staring at me while I eat it!"

He shakes his head. In the dark, your eyes have adjusted and you can see him more clearly; a smirk on his face and the most ridiculously perfect bed head you've ever seen. He's sitting upright, his lower half covered by the blue sheets and you avert your eyes upon seeing his upper half exposed.

"When's the last time you've eaten?" Loki asks, after putting together that every meal the two of you have been provided has been of a similar nature - very much alive, and that he hasn't actually seen you eat anything either.

All you wanted to do was go find a fucking vending machine. Not get the third degree.

A snarky reply is centimeters away from falling from your mouth, but then you consider how different Loki sounds. He's ... concerned. And not just because you woke him up; he's genuinely concerned.

You decide to answer honestly, even though it takes a moment to remember the last thing you consumed. "Do you remember those little bowls of fruit - at least I think it was fruit - but it was served as a side with those blue, tubular creatures that you said tasted like fermented meat?"

Loki's eyes widen, before he drops his face into his hand. That was yesterday morning.

Now he's alarmed. Humans can't go long periods of time without food or water before their bodies begin the grueling process of dehydration and starvation. He's seen what can happen to those unfortunate and impoverished enough to experience it - Asgardians, at least. Never a Midgardian. He can't let that happen. Not since ... well, not since he made that promise.

The silence from Loki makes you fidget. You try to break it, "It was good, anyway. Tasted like berries but was shaped like a garlic bulb. I was gonna try to find more of it if I can't find a vending machine."

He sighs. "You're not wandering these hallways and sectors alone." It wasn't a charming, lighthearted question. It was a statement.

And it was also a relief.

"You'll come with me?" you ask, picking at your fingernails in anticipation.

Loki bites his tongue, rolls his eyes. It's as if you're a child begging for sweets, with your big innocent eyes and hopeful little voice. He feels guilt tripped, even though he can tell that's not what you're doing; it's just you. The innocence, the hope. The excitement.

"Yes - " you inhale sharply before he can finish, "I'll assist on your hunt for food suitable enough for your needs."

You exhale, a huge smile coming with it, and have to control yourself from jumping for joy. "Thank you! ... Ah, are you decent under there?"

He smirks at you. "I'm wearing trousers, if that's what you mean."

~

The hallways of this Sakaarian palace are a flamboyant shade of drab. The architectural effort is visible in the abstract door frames and corridors, painted in bright contrasting colors. These halls in particular are an artificial sunny yellow with dark blue accents - a seemingly modern appealing design. And it would be, if not for the green and brown bloodstains obviously from the mutilated victims of the Grandmaster.

They're all around. On the golden ceilings, the blue diamond patterned floors, on the chandeliers and sconces. A faint stench lingers in the air of these hallways; the best way you've found to describe it is burnt. Pair that with the stains and it's almost enough to kill your appetite.

Not quite enough, though. And it's not like Loki would let you turn back now that you've interrupted his sleep.

In the distance you hear the thumping bass music and constant hustle of Sakaar, but in these hallways, it's dead quiet. Your footsteps achingly echo with every step the two of you make. They remind you of just how big and unfamiliar this place is. How alone you are, in that you're the only living human on this planet.

Of the few people - or, beings that you've walked past so far, none have been friendly. They all seem to detest your existence, as if you smell bad or look horrifying. For the most part you keep your eyes on your little slippers padding across the glittery floor.

You must admit, though, having Loki with you takes away some of the fear about walking around this place late at night.

Unbeknownst to you, you hadn't actually woken Loki up. He knows better than to sleep in a place like this; rest will do just fine. But that doesn't mean he was prepared to drop everything and go blindly walking the palace in search for a "vending machine".

As he walks now, after putting on some more appropriate attire - lightweight boots, proper leather trousers and a skin-tight blue tunic, all courtesy of and chosen by the Grandmaster himself - he glances down at you. He notices your inward demeanor. You're taking small steps, you're breathing shortly, and he can't even see your face with your head hanging so low.

Isn't this what you wanted? he wonders. He's doing as you asked for Norn's sake.

You near two civilians congregating near a corridor to another sector. Wearing typical skimpy Sakaarian wear, both were as tall if not taller than Loki. One was frighteningly thin and the other was frighteningly large. They appeared similarly built as you and Loki, save for their bleached white skin and black gums surrounding animalistic fangs.

With eyes an unsettling shade of gold, they widen and they immediately lock onto you - not you and Loki, but you - like cats watching a mouse. The tiny hairs on Loki's neck stand on end. He immediately narrows his own eyes at the creatures, daring them to do anything further. They don't even as much as glance away from you.

Loki claims ownership. His right hand brushes your right shoulder guiding you closer to him, once again daring the aliens to make a move. The two of you pass the corridor and Loki cranes his neck to watch the creatures, long after you've passed them. His arm stays around you, connecting you at the hips the entire time.

Monsters...

"They didn't look very nice, did they?" you laugh nervously from below him. Loki looks down at you and notices you ever so slightly, probably unconsciously, leaning into him.

His face feels hot. Quickly he retracts his arm.

"Ah, no. No, they didn't."

You on the other hand, were coming down from being fucking terrified. Those people looked at you like their next meal; at any minute you thought they may step closer and say something or do something or attack ... Relief, when Loki pulled you close and hid you away, is a huge understatement.

"Thank you. For protecting me and all." You lightly elbow Loki in the arm - for emphasis, of course - sending him shuffling a foot or so outward.

He dramatically collects himself and says, "Don't get used to it. I could sense your fear from a millennia away."

Straightening his tunic and looking forward, he doesn't look at you again. He was too annoyed with everything, including himself.

But you glanced at him as you walked. He had to be tired and was definitely a little on-edge, which wasn't completely unusual. He's taking the whole trapped-on-Sakaar thing much more gracefully than you, but that isn't saying much. Yet somehow he remains composed and in control. Reserved.

Except when you elbowed him. You really caught him off guard and you haven't stopped grinning since you did it.

Seeing his ever so serious eyes locked in front of him, his clenched jaw and tight mouth. Ridiculously long, dark eyelashes, fluttering in his stupid little frustrated way. That may have played a part in your grinning also.

His intense green eyes meet yours while you're watching him. "What?" he snaps.

"Oh, nothing," you chirp. I could get used to this, you think to yourself.

Loki's face twists up in offense. "If you think that I - "

"Look!" you grab his forearm and run to a sign on the wall. It had an arrow, with an image that vaguely resembled a plate of food. Vaguely. It also had some lines that could possibly mean something if you were to understand Sakaarian, or whatever. "Wonder what it says."

"It says 'Food, this way.'"

You scoff. "Not funny, Loki."

"I'm telling the truth! It says 'Food, this way.'"

"How can you read that?!"

Loki sighs. "Have I given you a reason not to trust me?"

You think of what happened moments ago. "No," you say timidly.

"Very well. The sign is a directory sign to the eatery. I think my duties here are finished. Good night." With that Loki starts to walk back down the hallway.

"Wait!" you call, a bit louder than you meant to. He's already a few feet ahead of you now, but groans and stops to give you an unnerving glare. "You can't just leave me here, you said it yourself!"

"What I said was you can't wander these hallways alone," he corrects. "I've brought you right to your destination. What more? Would you like me to hold your hand all the way through the eatery as well?"

... Yes?

"Now if you'll excuse - "

"Loki," you plead, trying to think of a convincing reason for him to stay - something to do with him, maybe - but you think of nothing, and now if looks could kill you'd be a bloodstain with all the others.

With no other choice, you desperately explain yourself. "Look, the truth is I don't stand a chance in this place alone. I mean, did you see how those things looked at me? By the looks of it I'm probably gonna be mauled in cold blood in the middle of this floor and they'll all gather to watch! No one would bat a eye. No one - " you shove his chest sending him backwards, "no one but you. Maybe. I don't know," you hiss.

Loki licks his teeth. Sorting through conflicting thoughts; mostly from the fact that someone just laid hands on him, and that that someone was you. All else aside he's rather impressed with the nerve you do possess. You unknowingly could survive here, perhaps, if not for your innate earthliness.

He sucks on his bottom lip while eyeing your ironic fluffy slippers. "Fine," he nods, looking up. "if that's what you want. I'll be your personal chaperone."

Finally, a bit of understanding! Your arms outstretch for a gracious hug - until the cold blade of his voice, as well as a silencing pointed finger stop you dead in your tracks.

"But if you give me one reason - one reason, to believe that you'd betray me, you will be all alone to fend for yourself in this wasteland. Do you understand?"

You nod. Dry mouthed.

"Good. I don't wish to repeat myself."

And, what a perfect time for your stomach to growl perhaps the most obnoxiously it ever has, in your life. A reminder as to why you're here in the first place.

You squirm and fidget with the hem of your sleep shirt, "Sorry."

For the millionth time and counting, Loki sighs and rolls his eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

~

"Why does everything have to be alive?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down, for Heaven's sake. And don't be so disrespectful to the culture of these people."

You look blandly at your plate. It appears nearly full with it being so small, since apparently Sakaar cares greatly about portion control.

The food court, eatery, cafeteria - whateverthefuck, was displayed in a ring formation with patrons on the inside and servers on the outside. Surprisingly you weren't the only patrons at such an hour; a handful of people stood around eating and drinking cocktails - minding their own business, thankfully.

You find Loki contemplating the mixing bar to the left serving drinks, but he ended up staying with you. He translated the description of each food from the charming little labels standing near them. Charming, indeed, compared to the elaborate display of every item. At first glance to you, they appear to be expensive delicacies, until Loki read the labels.

And while the water-centipede noodle soup looked very appetizing at first, that ended when you approached and the bugs begun to stir.

Throughout the menu you're left with few alternatives that weren't moving. Your plate currently consisted of a tiny loaf of stale bread and a blue jam made of the same fruit from the other morning (which you couldn't begin to pronounce the name of). It won't sustain you for too long, but you've already gone this far on way less.

That's of no comfort to Loki, though.

Though he won't say it, he relates to your disgust and is still plotting on a way to escape this place. He hasn't forgotten about the obedience disk implanted in your skin - quite the opposite, as he continues to recast his Seidr on it every night, while you sleep. To keep you from complaining about it. But if it's not one thing, it's the next ...

Like now. You can't possibly survive long on a mere bit of bread and jam. He can't even do that. Oh, but it's the only thing that isn't alive. Death? You'll face death with a mighty fist! Unless death is alive, of course.

Loki does have a conscience, so he can't just abandon you here. But Gods, you're making him want to.

"Come on, there's a few more courses to choose from," he urges you forward.

The last two items looked promising. One was a pyramid display of small black eggs, which were in fact not eggs at all. "What are they?" you ask Loki.

"They're called 'eyes of the dead'. It consists of - "

"Nope."

Loki scoffs, "Would you let me finish?"

"No, I'm not eating something that has eyes."

"You are insufferably prejudiced."

When you say nothing in return, Loki feels a pang of regret. After all, the eyes are rather unsettling. He likely wouldn't eat them either. Especially now that they can't seem to look away from him, following his every move.

"I guess this is my last choice," you sigh. "Looks promising, at least."

He finally musters the courage to look away from the nasty creatures. You're standing somberly by the end of the court; he leans over your shoulder to read the label and is astonished.

You look up and find Loki's jaw dropped, his face close enough that you can see the green ocean swirling in his eyes. "You okay?"

Loki glances down at you, still in shock. "This is from Asgard."

"Really?" you blink. "What is it?"

He shudders. "They're calling it 'Tastes of Asgard', but it's just mutton chops, sheep's cheese and honey cake."

That sounds like heaven. Or Asgard, apparently.

But before your stomach takes over your mind, the answer to Loki's distress hits you. "How do they know what you eat in Asgard? Unless you've told them?"

Loki eyes you wordlessly, but says enough.

You hiss, "You don't think there's more Asgardians here, do you?"

"We'll talk about it privately. For now, do you want to try this or not?"

Your minds still running a mile a minute. How could anyone else from Asgard end up here? This place is for bottom feeders! You and Loki stick out like sore thumbs in this landfill with Loki practically being royalty and you - well. You being with him. You begin to shift on your feet anxiously when your eyes land on the mutton again.

Another opportunity to try food from Asgard may never arise again. Of course you want to!

"On one condition."

Loki huffs and rolls his eyes. "What?"

"Will you try some with me?"

~

Those emotional nights when cheese and crackers are more satisfying than the most elaborate Thanksgiving dinner; that's what you thought of. Somehow you were reminded of home. The Sakaarian bread was stale, but had a pleasant sourness that complimented the sweet, blue fruit jam and the sharp sheep's cheese. It was a means of comfort.

And when you and Loki played rock paper scissors to see who would try the "mutton" first, he indeed informed you that it wasn't authentic sheep from Asgard, but rather it was from Midgard. You tried it next and were pleased.

It didn't cross your mind how little manners you were using - wiping the grease and jam from your mouth ravenously - until you looked across the balcony and noticed that Loki had barely eaten any of his food. Instead, he gazed into the empty, colorful Sakaar sky. Something was bothering him.

"Why aren't you eating?" you slur, covering a mouthful of honey cake with your hand.

Your voice breaks Loki away from his thoughts briefly. He cringes. "You've killed what little appetite I'd acquired."

"I told you I was hungry," you defend yourself. A moment of silence passes as Loki looks back to the sky. It was easy to stare at, as it seemed to lure you in. As if it were trying to hypnotize you into believing there was some kind of beauty here. But the real beauty sat beside you.

"Do you think there's more of your people here?" you mutter.

Loki nearly bites back something about his true heritage, but chooses not to. He senses your honesty, your naivety. He absently cuts his honey cake with his fork. "I think there's one person in particular here."

"Who?"

He smirks despite himself. "Well, this meal is the true indicator. It isn't the same as I recall, but it's a cheap attempt to replicate it."

You stay quiet, confused as hell. You take another bite of the delicious honey cake that tastes anything but cheap.

"I knew this would happen eventually. It always does."

"What?" you ask urgently, not wanting him to veer away.

"This is Thor's favorite meal."

~

another tale from Sakaar! I love these. And to those who read the whole thing, I seriously applaud you. I don't know what happened. It started as one little sentence/idea and it just kept going and going and going and going and

tag list: @sydneyss-worlddd @afinedilemma @fire-in-her-veinz @belladonnabarnes @drakesfiance @internetgremlin @dragon-chica @triggeredpossum @tarynkauai

#this has the loosest plotline #and i love it #sakaar is very vague #and thats how the tales of sakaar shall be #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fluff #loki series #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki #tom hiddleston #thor #thor odinson #thor ragnarok #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu #modestlyabsurd

[no6secretsanta]

Gala Grind

WOO SECRET SANTA! 

@allxkka this is for you! YOU ASKED FOR AN AU, high school, college, or theater and well, THIS HAPPENED. All three of those things get mentioned in this fic? So… : ) Hope you enjoy.

(should be up on my archive by now, if it isn’t, it will be shortly)

---

Hours earlier, Nezumi had watched as the average hotel lobby transformed into an expensive-looking Gala hall, courtesy of staff members with dead eyes. At the time, he’d found it impressive, the way the white cloth tables, goody-bags, and endless floral arrangements were able to grant the blank room a weighted sort of potential energy.  

Now, though, he was confident that he had only watched the room go from one form of emptiness to another. Goody-bags were swept under chairs in an unending flood of expensive champagne and cheap conversation. Nezumi could feel the flowers wilting.  

“What’s the name of this company anyway?” he asked the man sitting across from him. The placard at his seat read: “Yoming”.

“Civitas Rosis. You don’t know of us?” Yoming replied. As he spoke a shiny gold watch on his wrist caught the light.

Nezumi’s finger traced the rim of his champagne glass - of course it was empty, now when he needed it most. “I’m a plus-one,” he said. “Guest of a guest. That is quite a name." 

"It’s Latin. The title is from one of our parent companies we outgrew,” Yoming said, with the air of a proud conqueror. “The taking of their title was a sort of symbolic representation of our independence. We’re the kind of place that never forgets the little steps that helped us get where we are.”

“Oh, I see. A real rags-to-riches Cinderella story.”

“We consider it more David and Goliath,” Yoming said, dark eyes glinting. Nezumi envisioned a future where he strangled him with his necktie, unbuckled the watch from his wrist, and pawned it off for a lifetime supply of macaroons. It was a bright future.

“Of course,” Nezumi drawled. “Although…in this David and Goliath story David would have to put on Goliath’s skin after he took him down. A little too graphic to market, don’t you think?”

The businessman fluffed up like an offended bird. “What did you say your name was?”

“My name? Rikiga,” Nezumi simpered, and then flashed his teeth. “Most sincere apologies. Are you always so defensive or did you steal that from your dead parent company too?”

The silence between them stretched for a full minute - not that anyone could tell over the boot-licking and networking chatter that filled the rest of the dining area. 

“Who are you guest of?” Yoming asked, slowly.

The caterer, Nezumi thought, but he wasn’t about to get Shion into trouble with his millionaire undercover boss. He pointed blindly at the name plaque next to him. Yoming’s face scrunched.

“Tori, I should have known.”

Nezumi had no idea who this Tori was, but he felt a fleeting sort of guilt for the resigned way Yoming said his name, and the speed at which he stood.

“Good day, Mr. Rikiga,” Yoming said in a tone of voice that made it abundantly clear nothing good was about to happen.

“A pleasure meeting you!" 

Yoming was dialing a number on his cellphone with frightening speed as he ducked out of the room. Poor Tori.

Oh well. It was time to leave that table anyway. First though…

The goody-bags were mostly filled with useless nonsense: Business cards and Civitas Rosis plastic shot glasses and salt-shakers, but there was a gem at the bottom. Nezumi dumped the junk into Tori’s abandoned bag, but rescued the carefully-wrapped bag of cookies and a card to Karan’s bakery - painfully sincere amongst all the company-labelled knick-knacks and trappings. 

Like a certain someone.

Nezumi exhaled. He probably shouldn’t have picked a fight. He hoped this minor tiff wouldn’t reflect negatively on Karan and Shion’s impeccable skills and service. He popped one of the cookies in his mouth, chewed.

"Nezumi!”

Shion. He was clumsily weaving through the tables - balm to Nezumi’s exhausted soul, relentlessly appealing in his all-black formal catering uniform.

“You look nice,” Nezumi swallowed appreciatively, before popping another cookie in his mouth, looking him up and down.

Flattery and exhaustion warred on Shion’s face. He pulled out the seat next to Nezumi, but then pushed it back in, evidently, deciding standing would be better.

“Something to say, Shion?”

“I have a favor to ask,” Shion said.

He held Nezumi’s hand in both of his. Nezumi stopped chewing.

 —

“Please Nezumi, their singer is sick!” Shion grumbled, following Nezumi into the bathroom so they could keep the conversation private. “They need someone to sing a few songs and say just a few nice things about the company and I know you’ve done galas before—hey. Don’t look like that. You have the training for this!” 

“I dropped out, Shion,” Nezumi replied, colder than he meant to be.

Training was a bit of a trigger word if he was being completely honest. As a proud college dropout, he had recently come to terms with the fact that the best thing his stint in academia had given him was ecologist-turned-caterer Shion.

Shion was not deterred. He shook his head, quickly slipping an OUT OF ORDER sign onto the door to the men’s bathroom.

“Listen to me—"

“—Why are you carrying that?” Nezumi asked, temporarily distracted.

“Sometimes caterers need some time alone,” Shion clarified without hesitation. “I’m not giving up on this. You’re the only one who can do this Nezumi, and your voice is beautiful. You have soul. That’s all an audience needs. A diploma doesn’t matter— You taught me that.”

Ugh, Nezumi had. Theoretically. Shion had been miserable in grad school, signing up for all the most difficult labs to challenge his own brilliant mind. It had been a mistake. A brilliant mind wasn’t what his professors wanted— cutting corners was, and Shion wasn’t going to do that.

Shion had dropped first. A month later, Nezumi made the same call, but for very different reasons.

Pursuing a degree in theater, in all honesty, had been a mistake.

His heart had wanted it, though. Nezumi’s stupid heart, still beating, ever-longing, ready to make important life decisions with the loudest possible voice no matter how deeply he buried it in his chest. His heart had won him over during the lonely years after high school— singing in bars for tips. It had convinced him that with education maybe that could be a job—his full-time job. A job where he wouldn’t have to scrape by and beg.

So, he had saved. He had saved and he paid for some classes. An education. Rags-to-riches, right?

As it turned out, Nezumi paid a lot for academia to teach his heart what his head knew already: love was disappointing. Love didn’t fill your stomach, or your pockets. Love left you with debt—left you with dreams. Singing wasn’t a career—it was a survival mechanism.

So yeah, he didn’t much like to be reminded of his training. He didn’t particularly like to be reminded of his soul, either.

“Shion—” he started, but Shion kissed him before he could finish, pressing him gently into the wall of the nice hotel bathroom. His heart took over— no more thoughts— as he wrapped his arms around Shion’s shoulders and felt the fabric of his stupid hot catering uniform. Warm. Shion was so fucking warm, all the time.

He had just about forgotten what they were talking about when Shion broke away, eyes impossibly bright.

“I know you,” he whispered, voice low and urgent enough to send a tiny, tiny tremor down Nezumi’s spine. “I know you, Nezumi, and you love to perform. Why are you resisting? What’s holding you back? Let me help.”

His hand was on Nezumi’s cheek, and Nezumi felt his resolve crumble.

Dammit. Damn him. Damn this. Damn the excitement in Nezumi’s veins, the stupid thrilling call of the stage. Damn this man, this infuriating, wonderful man that knew Nezumi’s stupid, stupid, stupid, theatrical heart.

“I’ll sing, Shion,” he said, finally, meeting the torrent that was Shion’s eyes. “I just can���t promise any miracles. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I’m not asking for miracles, Nezumi,” Shion replied, grinning victoriously. His lips were red; his cheeks appealingly flushed. “Just you. Just your voice. That’s always been enough, you know.”

Nezumi’s heart may have lost when it came to his college education, but with Shion…Well. Maybe the debt was worth it.

—-

Nezumi stood in front of the crowd, microphone in hand. His set list and suggested script sat on a music stand in a black binder. No one would have to know there was actually no paper in the binder, but rather that everything had been hastily scrawled on a napkin by the company treasurer.

Nezumi tapped the microphone once. Feedback echoed through the gala hall, but hey, it caught everyone’s attention so mission accomplished.

“Having fun tonight?” he offered to the stuffy suits and ties. He was rewarded with polite applause.

God, Nezumi thought. Sounds like a fucking golf game. He almost missed the constant cat-calls of his bar. Almost.

His heart was beating though, thudding in a way that clearly never got the message this was stupid and pointless. His eyes scanned the crowd and found Karan and Shion at their modest table in the back. He smiled, for them, slipping into the role of gala MC.

Shion really did look great in that uniform.

“Let’s give another round of applause for our lovely host Civitas Rosis — long may they reign!”

The sarcasm didn’t slip through to his voice but judging by the rewarding scowl on Yoming’s face and the expanding smile on Shion’s— it was understood by the parties that needed to hear it.

Shion, to Nezumi’s surprise and delight, couldn’t stand Yoming either. He had apparently been flirting at Karan for almost the entire party, and Shion, for all his gullibility, had a bullshit detector that could rival Nezumi’s. When he had heard about Nezumi’s earlier argument, seconds before Nezumi was shoved to the stage, his face had changed. There was a rare, vengeful glint in his eyes as he whispered: Honestly, I’m glad you did— now maybe I’ll be able to resist arguing with him, myself. Maybe.

Fuck, Nezumi loved him.

It was a stray thought, but a true one, and one Nezumi didn’t have time to over-consider as he picked up the mic and began to sing, voice echoing through the lobby.

Yoming, pleasingly, had a deep scowl on his face, but Karan was mouthing the words next to him. Yeah that wouldn’t last.

Nezumi’s life hadn’t really gone according to plan.

He was a college drop-out singing in a hotel lobby that meant nothing to him, and for a company he couldn’t stand.

But still, he smiled as he sang. It wasn’t to survive— wasn’t for an ill-advised money-making dream, but for the caterer watching with enamored eyes in the back of the room.

It was fun. His heart pulsed in his chest, poor, but satisfied.

It was his best performance yet.

#secretagentfan #allxkka #no6 #no 6 #no.6 #no. 6 #no6secretsanta #gala grind #nezumi #submission

[bubbyyerrr]

Broken Bow and Hochatown

5 Senses

Audio Reading:  https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PT2nvmg6Rn5rwvz6lqsgjeFvF_iRNzVz/view?usp=drivesdk

         Broken Bow and Hochatown look like a run-down Hallmark representation of a small town in the country. There are trees and wildlife everywhere and the lake and rivers are clear and (for the most part) free of pollution. The scenery changes a bit when hundreds of tourists crowd the one road and every camping spot along the lake, but they all seek the same middle-of-nowhere getaway.  The smell of Broken Bow- pine trees mixed with lake water and grills- persists through tourism's popularity.

           Broken Bow feels like a hot, sticky air constantly surrounding you and eventually being cleared by the breeze being carried above the soft waves of the lake. It feels like the first breath of fresh air when you step through the door of your home after a long workday. It sounds like high schoolers’ trucks with enlarged mufflers black-smoking and letting everybody in the neighborhood know that they have arrived. Broken Bow sounds like the warm hellos of a people that have known each other their whole lives because it seem like everybody here has.

           Broken Bow tastes like a confusing amount of Tex-Mex mixed with fast food and the occasional good burger. It tastes like local coffee beans and homemade ice cream. Broken Bow encapsulates the full feeling of a summertime feel good movie. The sights, smells, sounds, tastes, and feelings are all quite familiar to me, to the point where I have taken them each for granted. It feels of something unique and treasured by many for its beauty in the small things.

My Love for the Small Town

My experience with Broken Bow and Hochatown is substantial, seeing as I have lived there for the majority of my life. The irony is that I had to leave for college to realize its significance and impact on my life. In high school I was more than a little frustrated with my place of living. The “city” of Broken Bow had nothing for teenagers to do throughout the year. I wanted a bowling alley, a laser tag arena, a coffee shop, or anything else that a bigger city had. In high school, my friends and I would go to a parking lot adjacent to the Wal-Mart parking lot and sit in one person’s car and listen to music and talk. If we were not spending the night and playing video games, then this was our next best option in our eyes.

           I suppose there is a charm to its uniqueness, but I was quite blind to it having only experienced its lack of activities compared to other places. Teenagers of Broken Bow have it easy now. There are two coffee shops and a bowling alley is coming to Hochatown, I would not be at all surprised if a laser tag arena was soon to follow! I am quite happy with it, despite my obvious previous frustrations, however. I now experience it in mediation as a place to escape, as many many others have.

Sustain the Environment

Broken Bow and Hochatown should be preserved as an escape to pure nature with minimalized pollutants in the water and air. My hope is that every tourist that visits would share my view and take care of the environment of the small town. People visit this place because of the clear water and sense of peace with being surrounded by nature, and if that were to be ruined or contaminated, people would come here less and drastically decrease the business that the town has thrived from. The State Park of Beaver’s Bend is well protected, but I encourage anyone staying in cabins or camping to treat the nature around you kindly so that it may continue to welcome others who visit.

Come Visit you City Slickers

I would encourage anybody that has never been to Broken Bow/Hochatown to visit with a plan of activities for each day. Floating the river is a very popular choice among tourists and locals, and there are plenty of canoe and kayak rental places that will take you to the river and pick you up when you have finished your route. It is a great way to spend the day in the sun and water and encourages little competitions among families and friends or a peaceful journey for the lone wolf types. I would encourage newcomers to the area to come in with a fresh conviction to take a step away from staring at screens all the time. Beauty is not found in the lens of a camera but the purity of the moment captured by not only the sight but the sounds and feelings of the moment.

Source: https://www.vrbo.com/vacation-rentals/usa/oklahoma/broken-bow?noDates=true&k_clickid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&ds_cid=71700000080047762&ds_kids=p60860309934&ds_kid=39700060860309934&ksprof_id=700000002166899&ksdevice=c&ktarget=dsa-1183032255545&kloct=&klocf=9026684&ds_aid=58700006721571344&ha_t=:g:&gclid=CjwKCAjwuvmHBhAxEiwAWAYj-KvnJaKnEyvEjDVLuL5DySkqXXfVUSPAfUCi1V3-TquPPPTnJW-GCRoCFacQAvD_BwE&gclsrc=aw.ds

Covid Changes to Broken Bow

Whenever the pandemic hit, Broken Bow initially followed a soft lockdown and the majority of residents did not leave their homes as frequently. After a few people got it and got over it, however, this changed for the entire town. Many people ceased to take it seriously or their view of the virus became “If I get it I get it”.

Broken Bow and Beaver's Bend are located in an overwhelmingly conservative area of the United States. With that being said, you can imagine that many things did not change in Broken Bow for the most part. Our Wal-Mart asked people to wear masks, but they were ignored, and no employees enforced the mask policy or social distancing. While the franchise restaurants, excluding two, stayed the same and flourished from drive-thru and delivery experiences, the “Mom and Pop” restaurants were hit quite hard by the initial drop in business. One of our biggest, most-frequented restaurants in town, Papa Poblanos, was heavily impacted at first, but they introduced an “Order Online” option that brought a significant chunk of their revenue back to normal.

As the virus progressed and calmed down, tourism has spiked back almost as intensely as it dropped. The cabin businesses faired very well, as did all of the attractions in Hochatown. Every store and restaurant you go to, it is quite easy to point out who is a tourist and who is a local based on who has a mask and who does not. Throughout the rise and fall of the virus, Broken Bow has managed to maintain an optimistic attitude, and gives tourists from all over a safe haven to escape.

All of the following photos are from Broken Bow photographer, Matt Cameron. Matt has done photography for multiple cabins and the other photos are of Broken Bow lake, Mountain Fork River and a mountain in the Broken Bow area. Each photo is from his account on instagram, @cameronphotography.ok Link: https://www.instagram.com/cameronphotography.ok/

Now that you’ve been Convinced

1.     Prepare your budget. You should not worry about money on your vacation/detox so save money where you can, to enjoy it later.

2.     Gather your party. Do you have a group of people or your family that you’d love to escape with? If you’re going alone, this step is significantly less important.

3.     Prepare your mind and body for a change by adapting sleep and thought patterns. It can be very difficult to not think about work or other things while vacationing, so prepare yourself.

4.     Let people know ahead of time that you will not be on your phone as much (hopefully not at all).

5.     Look for the perfect place to stay. There are hundreds of cabins in Broken Bow, so find one you love!

6.     Reach out to the cabin booking services and talk about your favorite place. Get a good relationship with them so if you need anything while there, they can oblige easily.

7.     Look into possible activities that you think you might enjoy. While there is some awesome stuff to do here, you may not be able to do it all, so prioritize as much as possible!

8.     Plan out your days ahead of time. Make an itinerary if wanted, but do not be too strict with the timelines.

9.     Pack well! Your vacation is almost here, but do not get too overzealous and forget something. Make a list ahead of time and add on as the time gets closer.

10.  Make a banger playlist. No trip is complete without tunes to jam to. That road anticipation can be alleviated with some sick beats.

11.     Practice your most hick accent on the way. This step is crucial.

12.     As you arrive, just throw your bags on the bed and go eat! Get some experience and good food on the first day. My highest of recommendations to Grateful Head.

13.     Get that phone out of here! You will ruin it in all the water around here anyways!

14.     Enjoy every moment of the day. If you need a nap, take it. If you want a snack, you deserve it. Stick to the itinerary, but if something goes off schedule, that is okay! That is why you prioritized!

15.     Take a walk or a few out in nature before you go. You can take some time away from the constant distractions from everyday life and actually think in the sounds of nature. A vacation is nothing without a proper detox.

My blog over Broken Bow was an interesting one. I have written about my hometown before but never in this capacity and to this magnitude. My focus on the hometown and not so much the important events of my life in them was strange but welcome. My blog served as an homage to the place I grew up, even though I have not been overly fond of it. It became an appreciation of the roots of my parents and grandparents.

The colors used on my blog were the default colors of Tumblr. I am not sure how customizable the layout of blogs on Tumblr are. The pictures I used that I am proud of are the pictures of Matt Cameron, a wonderful photographer friend of mine. I wanted my blog to reflect a familiar place of peace that you could go to to collect your thoughts. The audience for my blog is people who have never visited Broken Bow or Hochatown before.

I put my blog together just assignment by assignment as I went through them. I feel it is strong in capturing the beauty of a small town getaway. The blog does not accurately depict the frustrations of limited activities there. I could relate the blog to my college career because of the surprising amount of musically talented people in Broken Bow. It honestly does not have much to relate to apart from the musically inclined people there.

This post was for Dr. Hembrough’s ENG 3903 course.

[i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle]

Chapter 18: The Royal Ball, Part 6 - Sweetie Belle’s Performance

While their much older friends and/or family are having their fun, the Cutie Mark Crusaders have had a table for themselves where they’ve been playing together and enjoying the performances that have shown up thus far themselves. Clapping for Trixie’s show, getting some good laughs from Autumn’s Puppet Show, and Sweetie Belle in particular enjoying Coloratura singing The Magic Inside again. 

They continue to have some banter between them, until they’re joined by a family member of Apple Bloom and former fellow cutie mark crusader, Babs Seed. Who eventually found her talent in being a barber in Manehattan and is currently under the tutelage under of one of the most famous hair stylists in Manehattan. While she was here, she thought she’d visit her cousin and her friends for a little bit

Babs Seed: Hey there, Apple Bloom! How’s my cuz, doin’?

Apple Bloom: Oh hey Babs! Nice t’ see ya! Ya’ll still having ah nice time at that barber shop ya work fo’?

Babs: Yeah! I get chosen whenever somepony wants a cool haircut, such as mohawks or the different kinds of punk-style haircuts

Scootaloo: Niicceeee! Maybe I should get one of your hairstyles sometime, Babs!

Babs: Haha, I’d love to have a hoof at styling your hair in cool ways some day, Scoots.

Sweetie: I may need your services sometime too, Babs. I’ve gotten into singing metal, could be useful for such performances.

Babs: Awww yeah! That would be pretty nice too, Sweetie. I have been wondering how you’ve all been. Been up to anything lately? Maybe tell me how you all were invited here?

Apple Bloom: Sure thing! Ah was mah sister’s first invite when she got t’ the farm, then ah would go t’ get inviting Zecora here as mah sister invited others in our family, as well as Rara and Autumn.

Babs: Yeah, thanks to ya sister we got some pretty awesome, and funny in the case of Autumn Blaze, performances tonight! Though I also kind of got to thank her for inviting Rara for another reason, as in turn she’d bring me. I was taking care of Photo Finish’s mane at the time Applejack was there in Manehattan so I couldn’t quite come across her. Anything else happen though, Apple Bloom?

Apple Bloom: Well.. all that’s left is sort o’ sad, Ah must warn ya. But what ah did next was try t’ see if Grand Pear was available t’ go, he didn’t end up goin’ but we’d find him visiting the graves o’ mah late parents…

Babs: Oh… yea… visiting the graves of dead beloved relatives is always a bummer… I hope this ball is making ya feel better though.

Apple Bloom: It is, yeah.

Babs: How about you, Scoots? Whatcha been up to?

Scootaloo: Hm, it has been a while since we last saw eachother hasn’t it?

Babs: Well, I was at the party ya held that ya girls held to try to convince ya parents to let you stay in Ponyville. But I suppose I haven’t been made too aware of what ya’ve done in a little more then 2 years.

Scootaloo: Is that so? Then I guess you’re not quite very are of… this!

Scootaloo shifts her body from the waist down into her seapony tail in front of Babs, and bends it in a way that would be impossible to bend hooves in to prove it’s a real fish-like tail. Scootaloo now sitting with her sea pony tail dangling down from the side of her chair.

Babs: WHOA! Ya can turn half-fish?! Just like the hippogriffs with their necklaces, but ya don’t have a necklace! How are ya doing it?

Scootaloo: A wish from Twilight, really. But there’s more to this then just that, I’ve been training myself to use this form and get even better at swimming. And just two weeks ago? I was able to convince Spitfire and the Wonderbolts to make a new branch called the Waterbolts! I can’t join yet despite helping start it, but they got decent number of good swimmers from Mount Aeris/Seaquestria to get it started. Along with some of the best fliers there too who will try to become proper Wonderbolts in the near future.

Babs: That’s awesome! Dang Scoots, ya’ve made history!

Scootaloo: Just wait till’ I’m all grown up and I’m the fastest swimmer on the planet! That will be the real kind of history I want to make!

Babs: Yeah! That’ll be a sight to see one day, ya could even do a show in the Manehattan Bay! See how fast it takes for ya to do 20 laps around The Statue of Friendship!

Scootaloo: Yeah! Exactly! It’s gonna be awesome!

Scootaloo transforms back to her pony form

Babs: Now how about you, Sweetie. You mentioned you found out you’re a bit of a metal singer. Mind explaining that?

Sweetie: Of course! After being invited by my sister, we would eventually get to Vinyl Scratch and Octavia’s house to invite them. I decided I’d stay with them a little bit as Rarity got her invitees. I decided to give their karaoke machine a try, and picked a few songs I wanted to sing for them. All of the ones I chose were some level of Metal/Hard Rock. And I guess I did great, as I left them impressed to the point that they actually want me to sing another song here at the ball just to show my voice.

Babs: No way, you’re going to be performing?! When?

Sweetie: Well either me or Cheese Sandwich is next. As soon as Octavia and Vinyl Scratch are called, I’m going to need to head over to see them to get ready.

Babs: So ya plan on rocking the palace in a little bit?

Sweetie: Weellllll the song I chose for the ball isn’t going to be a super intense song, it’s still made by a band that generally does metal, but it’ll be one of their softer ones. I decided I would try to make my first ever solo appearance in front of an audience with something intent on evoking emotions rather then a bang your head kind of tune.

Babs: Yeah, that’s probably respectable. What’s the song?

Sweetie: Mother’s Soul from Stalliondust

Babs: Oooooh, that is a good one. Can’t wait to hear your singing voice, Sweetie. Ya obviously have a talent in music going by your cutie mark, so this will be great to see!

Apple Bloom: Ooo! Ah think ah see the palace staffer walking t’ the stage t’ announce the next performance!

Indeed, as Apple Bloom noticed the palace staffer once again goes up to the stage as the audience once again quiets down to let him speak.

Palace Staffer: Thank you, thank you. Our next performance includes backing instruments from Octavia and Vinyl Scratch. Who will joined by a young rookie singer by the name of Sweetie Belle, showing off her singing talent for the first time solo in front of a big crowd!

This intrigued many in the audience who were aware of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia but have never met Sweetie. Though for those who do know Sweetie, loud cheers could be heard. Especially from her sister and her parents.

Sweetie: Oh my gosh! I’m next!. Seeya soon Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Babs! I need to get ready!

Scootaloo: Good luck, Sweetie!

Apple Bloom: Ya’ll do great! We know ya will!

((Story continues after the break))

Sweetie Belle quickly hops off her chair and rushes to wherever she can find Vinyl Scratch and Octavia. Eventually, she just manages to get to them before they were starting to walk behind the curtains on stage.

Sweetie: Hey! Vinyl! Octavia! I’m here!

Octavia: Hello, Sweetie Belle. Are you ready to debut your singing talent for the world to know?

Sweetie: Yes… I’m no longer shy about my singing. It’s time I finally put my front hoof forward.

Vinyl Scratch nods, and gives Sweetie an approving grin.

Octavia: That’s good to hear. By the way, you picked a great song. I know it’s not quite as intense as some of the ones you sang for us, but it may be a song that’s soft enough to endear your voice. And even if they’re surprised that you end up doing mostly more intense songs that aren’t to everypony’s taste, they can respect the range of your voice.

Sweetie: Thanks, Octavia

With that the 2 musicians, and the little aspiring singer all head backstage to take their places. Vinyl provides the machine that will play an instrumental of the song Sweetie sings, and Octavia provides a little extra symphonic metal elements into Sweetie’s choice of song. And of course, Sweetie on her own in the middle of the stage with a microphone. Soon, the curtain starts raising and the audience can see the three on stage. Claps are heard for the performance’s start.

Rarity: Good luck, Sweetie darling!

Sweetie smiles hearing the voice of her sister and takes a few heavy breaths. Before the song begins to play. Octavia already playing her instrument.

Mother’s Soul by Stalliondust ((To the tune of Angel’s Son by Sevendust))

Sweetie: Life is changing… annnnd…

I can’t… goooo on… withouuuut you…

Rearranging, annnnd… I will be strong!

I’ll stand byyyyyy you…

You were fighting… everyday…

Soooo hard to hide the pain…

I know you never said goodbye…

I had so much left to saaaaay…

(Sweetie puts her mouth closer to the mic to sing the first use of the chorus more quietly)

One last sooooong…

Given to a mother’s soooul…

As soon as you were gooone…

As soon as you were gooooone…

(Sweetie puts her mouth back from the mic, and starts to pick up the intensity as the song itself does)

I have a new life now…

I live through you!

What can I do?!

I feel so alone now…

I pray for you!

We still looove yooou!

You were fighting… everyday…

So hard to hide the pain…

I know you never said goodbye…

I had so much left to saaaaaaay…!

(The song picks up to it’s highest intensity)

One last soooong!

Given to a mother’s sooooooul!

As soon as you were goooone!

As soon as you were goooooone! Ooooh!

One last soooong! Ooooh!

I can’t believe, you’re gone!

Given to a mother’s sooooooul!

Iiiiii can’t beliiiieve!

As soon as you were gooone!

As soon as you were… gooone a ohhh a ohhh a

The song finishes, many of the audience’s mouth agape from Sweetie’s cover of the song. Soon claps are heard and they start spreading across the crowd until the entire crowd claps and starts cheering for the young singer. Not all were necessarily clapping, but that’s because instead they were emotionally moved by the lyrics for one reason or another. Many of the members of the M.I.L.F. club among them, being this is a song dedicated to a deceased mother, anyone in the audience who has a deceased parent, especially Applejack who took the lyrics to heart and is already wiping tears from her eyes. Starlight was still next to her, and is patting her on the back.

Applejack: *sniff* Such a-ah  b-b-beautiful s-so-song… *sob* W-w-well done, S-s-sweetie B-belle… *sniff*

Starlight herself also tears up a bit from the song since while it’s known this is for a deceased mother. The lyrics could still somewhat apply to a missing one, and she still can’t rule out the possibility that her mother is dead anyway.

Sweetie Belle walks off the stage and is immediately approached by her sister and her fellow crusaders.

Rarity: That was amazing, Sweetie! You really gave the crowd a show!

Apple Bloom: We knew ya’ll would ace this!

Scootaloo: Yeaaaah! You rocked it!

Suddenly, another pony comes to approach Sweetie Belle. It’s Coloratura herself quite impressed with Sweetie’s talent.

Rara: That was a top-notch performance, Sweetie. you have a voice that I think the whole world will want to hear. In fact, if you ever feel like you’re ready to start making record deal. My place can be open to you some day, and I’ll be your sort of manager.

Sweetie: Wait.. you… as my manager?!

Rara: Not immediately of course, I think you still have a little bit of your childhood to have before you do. But say when you think you’re ready to start selling records in your teenage years or older.

Scootaloo: Kinda like just how it will still be a few years until I’m ready to become a trainee for the Waterbolts!

Sweetie: My gosh, Coloratura… this is such an honor… even if this is still some years away… you have no idea how happy I am that you recognize my talent… Even if we’re kinda getting into different genres. You’re mainly a pop singer right?

Rara: That’s true, but because I’m a pop singer doesn’t mean I can’t manage other types of singers. I started self-managing ever since I kicked Sven Gallop out, and I felt as I got comfortable I’d eventually get to helping other singers find a footing. And I’ll be a nicer manager then Sven ever will be.

Sweetie: Well then, yes! Of course I’d love you to be my manager when I’m ready to start my music career in full!

Rara: On a side note, I know the stallion who wrote the song you sang. He unfortunately lost his mother to an illness, and that song was dedicated to her. And he would of loved to hear your cover of the song. Perhaps some day, you’ll get to perform your cover again while he’s in the audience.

Sweetie: Yeah… I figured the song was about a deceased mother. But nice of you to tell me the real story behind the song’s making. And that would be cool to have the actual band’s writer and lead singer listen to my cover! But if it’s ok, I think I’d like to return to my table with my friends, I still very much appreciate reserving a spot for me at your studios. So thank you, Coloratura.

Rara: No problem, Sweetie. I can’t wait to see what comes next for your music career.

Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo return to the table they were sitting. Many tables they’re passing by with strangers waving to the young Sweetie, as it seems she’s made a decent amount of fans already. Babs Seed is still at the table and sees the group approach.

Babs: Great singing, Sweetie Belle! Ya did great up there.

Sweetie: Thank you very much, Babs!

Once they’re seated, they don’t get much time before another pony approaches. Though it’s a pony the Crusaders are very fond of: Cheerilee, their school teacher.

Cheerilee: Hello, Cutie Mark Crusaders!

Apple Bloom: Miss Cheerilee!

Scootaloo; Hiya!

Sweetie: I’m so happy to see you’re here!

Cheerilee: I’ve been having a pretty good time here, thanks for thinking of inviting me Sweetie. And also… you did a great job out there on stage. I’m very proud of you, Sweetie. I know one day you will make it big in the music industry.

Sweetie: Thank you!

Cheerilee: Also, I want to talk to Scootaloo a little bit

Scootaloo: Oh no.. am I in trouble for something?

Cheerilee: No, not at all. I just want to congratulate you on starting up the Waterbolts!

Scootaloo: Huh? How’d you find out about that? I don’t think I told you yet.

Cheerilee: Me and Spitfire are actually good friends! While talking to her, she told me all about what you did in Mount Aeris/Seaquestria

Scootaloo: Oh nice! I can’t join it myself yet, but you bet I’m going to continue to swim as much as I can until then!

Cheerilee: I’ve seen you swim sometimes in Saddle Lake, the School of Friendship’s moat, and the rivers in town! You are really fast in the water! You’ll no doubt be a star, once you’re old enough to get in the Waterbolts.

Scootaloo: Thank you, Miss Cheerilee!

Cheerilee: And now Apple Bloom, mind if I ask if you have any idea where your big brother is?

Apple Bloom: Big Mac? Ah think he’s on a table with his wife, Sugar Belle.

Cheerilee: Ah, of course. They are certainly a cute couple.

Sweetie: You’re not going to fight with Sugar Belle... Are you?

Cheerilee: What? Why would I fig- Oooooooh, do you still think I have romantic interest in Big Mac? We were just friends, granted, we were only acquaintances until your love potion shenanigans.

Sweetie: Well… you did still say one of the names you called him while under the effects of the potion, after you were cured.

Cheerilee: Oh hahahaha, me and Big Mac just decided to prank you girls at that moment.

Apple Bloom: Ah think only Sweetie really thought ya had feelings for him. Ah’d know if ya’ll were together after that Love Potion incident.

Scootaloo: Yeah, you fooled me with that prank at first, but over time it probably would of been more clear if you really did become special someponies for real at some point.

Cheerilee: Then I guess Sweetie Belle must be slightly holding on to a ship she once had for me. I remember when you were upset that I didn’t kiss Big Mac, and you popped out of the bush yelling “OH COME ON” *giggles*

Sweetie: Nuh uh… I tried to help Big Mac get with Sugar Belle too! Though… it is still a shame that you still don’t have a special somepony.

Cheerilee: Well, what if I told you why you never did that Hearts and Hooves Day so long ago? Besides the fact that love potions override everything in a pony’s mind order to hypnotize ponies into loving eachother and won’t necessarily make it likelier that the two ponies become special someponies after being cured.

Cheerilee moves on closer in order to whisper, and the 3 hold up their ears to hear.

Cheerilee: I’m not into stallions at all, I’m into mares. You had the wrong orientation the whole time!

Scootaloo: Oh! Oh! Oh! Just like my Aunts!

Apple Bloom: Lyra & Bon Bon too!

Sweetie: Oooooooooh, I see. Well… I’ll guess I’ll have to rearrange some things at home later then. Hehehehe…

Scootaloo: *rolls her eyes* Great, now she’s going to spend a whole night shuffling her shipping chart…

Cheerilee giggles

Cheerilee: Anyhow, I guess I won’t bother Big Mac just yet, if he’s on a little bit of a honeymoon with Sugar Belle. I can always see him later.

Apple Bloom: What did ya even want t’ see him fo’?

Cheerilee: Nothing all that special, just if I can ask him if he can reserve some Sweet Apple Acres apples sometime when we get back.

Apple Bloom: Ya’ll could o’ asked me that

Cheerilee: Yeah but I wanted a lot of apples, enough that it’d be hard for you to carry all by yourself

Scootaloo: Whatcha going to do with all those apples?

Cheerilee: Just stock back up many, many jars of applesauce back home. And maybe save some for slices and/or eating them normally.

Apple Bloom: Well, even if ya don’t get Big Mac at some point later. Me and Applejack can probably get ya what ya want.

Cheerilee: True, I suppose. I guess I’ll just get back to the table I was sitting at for now, who knows when that final performance is going to start after all.

Sweetie: All that’s left is Cheese Sandwich before the night finishes with some dancing. So yeah! What ever is left of the ball should be quite fun, though it almost certainly means this ball is nearly over.

Scootaloo: It’s been a pretty fun night! All parties come to an end eventually, but they saved some cool stuff for last with one of the best party ponies around, and then we’ll all get to dance!

Apple Bloom: Ah guess seeya, Miss Cheerilee! Thank ya’ll for being such ah great teacher fo’ us. Mind if we get ah hug from ya before ya go?

Cheerilee: Oh of course I will, anything for 3 of my favorite students!

Cheerilee lowers herself to the ground by sitting on the floor and hugs around the 3 fillies. And then head back to her table.

Meanwhile, back at the table of the M.I.L.F. club, Twilight’s had enough fun talking with the other mothers and getting Trixie’s mom to be a member too (Stellar Flare was chosen to make Dandy Lion recite the club’s oath)

Twilight: Well this was a lot of fun, all of you. But I think I’m going to head elsewhere now, if I don’t see any of you the rest of the night. Hope you had a wonderful time here

Windy: We absolutely have! And no problem, Princess!

Velvet: Of course, dear. You have a fantastic rest of the night!

Twilight walks off waving to all the other mothers and once Twilight’s far enough, they continue their family gossiping. Twilight herself ponders where to go next, and realizes she still hasn’t seen Celestia and Luna here. And she figured it was going to be important to inform Celestia of her plan with Spike and Malakhar to visit the spot where Spike’s birth mother died. She eventually finds the two Alicorn sisters on their own table and heads on over to where they’re sitting. Celestia sees Twilight approach and smiles.

Celestia: Hello, Princess Twilight. Thank you for inviting us, it’s been a fantastic time. And a decent amount of great performances.

Luna: I never knew Sweetie Belle had such a beautiful singing voice. That was wonderful to hear

Twilight: You’re welcome both of you, and yeah, Sweetie’s going to be a fantastic musician one day. Thee’s no doubt about that, after that performance. But I actually went to see you because I have something important to ask of you for tomorrow morning, Princess Celestia

Celestia: Oh? Do tell what it is.

Twilight: Remember when you told me the story about where you got Spike’s egg and where his birth mother died? I told the story to Spike 2 weeks ago, and he said at one point he wants to visit that cave the day after the ball. And I thought I’d ask you to be there since you could likely help show where it was. I guess it turns out Malakhar was also there at the time, and I may have him accompany us as well to give directions, but I still wanted to ask if you could still help us if we went to you in the morning to go see it.

Celestia: I’d be happy to lead you to the cave, and oh? Malakhar was there too? Interesting, he must of been the teenage colt that handed me the egg back then. He did look familiar when I saw him, but he’s certainly a lot bigger then he was then. Does Spike perhaps wish to have a moment of silence to mourn his birth mother?

Twilight: Well, probably not quite on the same level as others. But he does want to pay his respects, especially if everything in your dream came true, she’s very much responsible for the path our lives took. Even if we can’t speak to her, it’d at least feel respectful in that way

Celestia: Completely understandable, I along with Malakhar will take you and Spike to the cave in the morning. But first, how has your night gone? Any interesting things happen for you?

Twilight: Besides enjoying the performances, I guess the night started with me and my friends telling each other what happened in our individual inviting trips. Including myself telling most of what you told me about Spike’s egg and Sunset Shimmer to my friends. But after that, I met up with my Canterlot friends. And sometime during all that, the Prince of Saddle Arabia, Theandri the 2nd surprised Moondancer as we were talking. And absolutely swept her off her hooves, kinda literally. They’re currently still on their first date as of this very moment.

Celestia: Awwwww, that’s so adorable!

Twilight: Though that’s not even the only thing about this, at some point… Moondancer called me to head on over where they were… and weirdly enough in a plan the Prince told Moondancer to do… Moondancer confessed… that she had a crush on me as far back as when we were teens.

I didn’t even know she was Bisexual, I guess that was because she still mostly preferred looking for stallions. But I guess I became an exception, it somewhat makes me feel even more bad for not even saying goodbye before you sent me to Ponyville. I think Moondancer understands that saving the world, and freeing your sister was in the grand scheme of things more important then her party, but it nonetheless hurt her pretty bad since she had planned of finally gathering the courage to tell me. I likely only would of said I don’t feel the same way, but because I didn’t go at all. A part of her never really got an answer, so she had to know what I would of said, so she could completely move on.

Celestia: Wow… If only I had known that long ago, even if the result would have been the same… that you don’t have the same feelings for her… Moondancer was still one of the students at my school, I would of gladly personally given her the chance when there was time after Luna was freed. No pony’s heart should be left with an unanswered heart for a decade

Twilight: But at least she now has the Prince. I can already tell they’ll be a close couple, Theandri II risked giving up Moondancer if hypothetically I wanted a relationship with her now, and Moondancer felt like she preferred to satisfy her long-lasting feelings towards me. An act of kindness that no doubt Moondancer will never forget.

Celestia: Certainly something that’s somehow heartwarming, but also a little heartbreaking at the same time. Good to see both the Moondancer and the Prince happy. I’m sure the Sultan and the Sultana are also pleased they may possibly know who becomes Sultana when they step down.

Twilight: Haha, believe me I saw them celebrating from their balcony when their son and Moondancer’s date started.

Celestia giggles

Celestia: Good for them, but now… anything else Twilight?

Twilight: Well all that’s else that happened is I met and joined a club of other mothers of Equestria that was co-founded by my own mom, and includes many of my own friend’s mothers

Celestia: Ah… that does sound quite cute, thanks for sharing how your night’s been.

Twilight: It’s pretty close to the end isn’t it? Only one more performance, then a moment to dance and then either anyone here is brought back home or they stay in the palace rooms for the wedding in 3 days.

Celestia: Indeed, but everyone’s certainly got their slice of fun here.

Twilight: It was good to talk to you once again, Princess. I think I’m going to head back to the table I was at originally to be with my friends and Spike again for the rest of the night. But I’ll see you again soon tomorrow morning to go to that cave.

Celestia: Have yourself a good rest of the night, Twilight. And yes, I shall see you in the morning.

Twilight heads out to the table she started at during the night, as the royal ball etches closer to the end.

UP NEXT: Chapter 19: The Royal Ball, Part 7 - The Taste Of Fresh Dough On The Tray

#Secrets Of The Dragon's Tear #Babs Seed #Apple Bloom #Scootaloo #Sweetie Belle #Octavia Melody #Octavia #DJ Pon3 #Vinyl Scratch #Rarity #Applejack #Starlight Glimmer #Coloratura #Rara #Cheerilee #Twilight Sparkle #Genie #Princess Celestia #Princess Luna #Luna #Celestia

[confusion-core]

Story

Despite the title, this isn't a fictional story. This is a true account of my experience with self harm, because I've heard it can be therapeutic to write about it, plus I want somebody to hear this story, especially if it'll mean somebody else will be discouraged from doing it in the future. Trigger warning for references to mental illness, self harm, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, maybe ED. If you don't wish to read about any of those things, please don't read this. If you know me in real life, please don't read this and just pretend you didn't see it, especially if you're a close friend, because I don't want anybody close to me knowing about these things. Also if anybody tries to reblog this with a joke or make light of it, they will immediately be blocked.

I'm gonna start from when I was very young, so that you have full context, and work my way up from there, because every part of this is important to understand the whole story.

3 years old - I hadn't yet said my first words (I was non verbal until I was 7) but I taken my first steps. This would be a cause for celebration, but honestly I wasn't really in the mood for celebrating. This next bit's kind of shaky because a lot of it is from 2nd hand accounts and I have trouble remembering from around this time, except for the days where I start remembering every detail of it. My mother was just starting to get the full effects of her thyroid problem, but she hadn't yet been diagnosed with it because she didn't trust the doctors apparently. Another thing she didn't trust was me and my one year older brother, and she thought we were out to get her. She'd spend hours alone in the living room crying and hiding from us, one of the few scenes I can regularly remember because I had/have a lot of dreams about how my dad would stand in front of the door, trying to convince us to not go in when all we wanted was to help her. I don't hold this against her, because she wasn't in her right mind at the time, but I do hold it against my father that he didn't send us to stay with somebody else for fear of somebody calling child protection services.

9 years old - My mother told me that I might have a thyroid problem like she and my uncle did, and I couldn't stop thinking about it because I knew that the one reason I didn't resent her was because she had no way of telling in that time with limited information, so if I didn't do my best to figure it out then I'd be doing the same to my kids, but I wouldn't have any excuses. I'd be letting them down, and that idea hurt me on a much deeper level than having been on the receiving end myself.

12 years old - My mother had forgotten about taking me to a doctor over time, and I never brought it up because I knew it'd lead to a conversation with her about how it affected me and I really didn't want to have that talk. Not then, not now, not ever. It's not that I thought she would be offended, but I knew it would break her heart to hear it from her own son. And so, at this point, I couldn't stop spiraling thinking about it, and every time I thought about it I'd get little flashes in my mind's eye of what I was there for, it lead to me laying in bed just shaking thinking of doing that to my children while knowing I could've done something about it and neglected to. One night, I just broke. I wanted to break something but I didn't have anything on hand, so I just picked up something sharp, maybe it was a razer I think, it might have just been a regular blade, and slashed it at my wrist. The first time didn't cut too deep, but after a moment I realised that the pain made everything else seem just a little less high-stakes. I did it again, and again, and again, the whole time still shaking and crying until I was a bloody, snotty mess. I did the same again the next day and the next after that etcetera for the next month or so, but everyday I'd cut just a little deeper. It did make me feel better, temporarily, but the cuts hurt like a bitch, I'd be whimpering from somebody laying their hand on my arm.

13 years old - A year later, I'd almost completely stopped when it came the time of year when I did it the first time, and I started feeling anxious and shaky all over again, and again I did it. At this point, I started feeling sick to my stomach at the thought of food, throwing up and starving myself for days at a time, and other times I wouldn't be able to stop eating. My mother found the scars, I told her it was a one time thing.

... then I did it again, the next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that.

Around the 3 year milestone it stopped bringing me that sense of clarity, and just made me feel empty. Pain in general started making me itch for more, I'd fall over and suddenly all I'd want would be to bang my head one more time. I still feel that, and I recently found out that that's because you can become chemically addicted to pain, and I did. It was miserable, I started wishing that it would end. Last year, it almost did when I had my mouth full to bursting with painkillers, ready to swallow when when my mother's dog came into the kitchen. I panicked and spat them into the sink, and sat on the floor and cried. My dog comforted me, usually he's happy and energetic but he has amazing empathy and is seriously good at reading the room when it matters. People keep asking me why he suddenly became my favourite thing in the world overnight, and I just tell them he's cuter but in reality it's because I literally owe him my life. I would actually be dead if it weren't for him, and I love him for that, and the fact that he knew just how to help.

16 years old - New Year's Day, I was helping my family set up for dinner. Everything started looking kind of blue for some reason, I was getting tunnel vision and suddenly I felt dizzy, as if I were drunk. I wanted to mention this but my mother was saying something and I didn't want to interrupt, even though I couldn't understand a word she was saying, and being a pushover became my downfall. My vision went dark, but I could tell I was still standing, and I could see a bunch of shapes and lines in white in the darkness, and what appeared to be the outline of a person facing away from me. I couldn't see anywhere I was going, and I just stumbled blindly. After about 5 seconds, I felt something on the back of my knee and toppled, and as I hit the floor my vision suddenly came back. I was splayed out on the floor, my sister was looking at me and my mother and panicking, asking me what was going on, and I just kept telling her I didn't know. She said she was going to take me to a doctor, but never got round to it, and after a while I realised that it was a hallucination, since I still get them sometimes on much lower levels like hearing slide whistles and circus music. I digress, though, the night of that New Year's, I was still shaken by what happened and when I went to grab a glass in my bedroom I didn't close my hand and it smashed against the floor. I was still shaken, and in kind of a daze, and I took one of the shards and dragged it straight across my arm. Then several more times.

Now - it's been almost half a year since I last did it, and yeah, I still have nightmares about being an infant with a chemically imbalanced mother, and I'm still not sure if I have a thyroid problem or not, and I can't look at shadows without being reminded of New Year's Eve, but this is all shit I could've worked out in therapy. Now, I turn into a sniveling shaking mess acting like a scolded puppy whenever I hear a glass break, I can't listen to my favourite song because I listened to it while doing the deed once, and I literally have a chemical addiction to pain. None of the latter would've been true if I hadn't done it that one very first time, so to anybody who wants to "try it out" or "see what it's like", please, I beg of you, don't do it. It's not worth the youth it'll take away from you.

#tw sh #cw sh #tw ed #cw ed #tw mental illness #cw mental illness #tw suicide