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drakenology · 3 years

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Yeah, My Boyfriend’s In A Band

guitarist!todoroki x fem!reader

summary: something straight outta wattpad! you go to a rock band’s concert and stand front row of the stage. The band’s vocalist /guitarist catches your eye and.. well, the rest is history! this is the story of how you first met.

author’s note: soooo.. how yall been? i kinda said fuck it to the schedule i made. why force myself to make content when I just can’t ya know? I’d much rather upload content when it’s at it’s best. so enjoy! I used some lyrics from some of my favorite rock songs for this, can you guess em? Also the art work above isn’t mine!

warnings: smut (duh.), drug use (weed), size kink, pinch of daddy kink, spitting, degradation

It was a hot Saturday night. You were all dressed up and excited to see your favorite heavy metal band the Diaspora play in your city. You were a huge fan, their posters adorned your bedroom walls. You’ve been a fan since they first came out as a cover band.

The members were all pretty fuckin cute, especially the band’s front man. Todoroki Shoto.

He was so handsome; black and red half and half hair, grey sullen eyes, the sexy scar on the left side of his face only adding to the edginess of his visage. His tattoos coated his left arm in a sleeve, his eyebrow pierced as well as his lower lip. He was fucking hot. Obviously not the kind of guy who would pay any attention to you right?

You threw on the Diaspora t-shirt you bought just weeks before the show and tied it in the back so it could be a little cropped and called your uber, frantically spraying perfume in a panic that you were going to be late to the concert. You ran outside, saying goodnight to your roommate as you rush out the door and jump into the car.

“Hey. I’m Shoto Todoroki and I’m the lead singer and guitarist for the band The Diaspora. Hope to see you guys at the show tonight at 8.” You hear as smoothe and sultry voice play over the radio.

You swoon and text some buddies who were also going to the show in excitement, the rush going straight to your brain in a haze as you blast some of their music in your headphones.

When you arrive to the stadium, you spot your best friend from highschool Nejire Hado. You two actually grew up together and even graduated together. It was like you two were sisters, inseparable since birth. Nejire saw you and waved excitedly, squealing with glee and motioned you to come to her spot in line.

“Y/N!!!! Over here!!” She yelled, causing you to run over and jump up and down with her.

“I can’t believe we’re finally here!” You say.

“Me either! Hey, did you hear? There’s rumor’s going around that their having an after party after the show! We have to go, Y/N please say yes.” Nejire rambled, clapping her hands with an inability to contain her excitement.

You look down at your shoes, unsure at first. What if you aren’t even allowed inside? It could be VIP only.

“Fuck it. Let’s go!” You say, causing Nejire to scream and laugh with joy.

Suddenly, the band’s security comes outside to greet the fans waiting to come inside for the show.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, please enter in a single fil-“ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his sentence before hundreds of eager fans rush past him and squeeze into the stadium doors, running as fast as the could to get to their seats.

Luckily for you and Nejire, you had front row tickets. Those days of refreshing the page for them as they sold out every second really paid off. You grab Nejire’s hand and run inside, elbowing and clawing your way through to your spot with your best friend by your side. The lights suddenly go dim and the crowd goes insane.

The show’s about to start. You heart seemed to float up into your throat as you stood sweating and nervous, Nejire screaming her head off and jumping up and down when the band came rising up from the bottom of the stage. Smoke covers them for a while until it clears and all you see is Todoroki standing above you, the real him finally being exposed to you as you gaze from the crowd.

He was even more handsome in person. Tonight he wore black jeans and a white band tank top ,showing off his muscular and tattooed arms. Chains hung on his hip and his boots as he propped his foot up on the amplifier in front of him.

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He screamed into the mic, causing the crowd to scream impossibly louder. He smirked, causing you to feel woozy just seeing him look so smug, as if he knew the effects he had on his fans.

You could’ve died right there a happy woman as the band started to play their hit single, the gritty sound of the electric guitar sending chills up your spine as you and Nejire headbang and dance to the music. You sing along to the top of your lungs, watching as Todoroki owned the stage. You gaze up at him again to see something completely and utterly unbelievable.

He was looking right at you.

You gasp, your eyes widening as you lock eyes with him. Shoto kneeled down towards you and reached his hand out to you. You almost scream and grab his tattooed hand with both of your own and smile at him, keeping your eyes focused on his. Shoto took your hand and kissed it as he sang a pretty racy part of his song to you,

“I wanna take you home.” (sleeping with sirens fans?? your nickle aint worth my dime???? NO?)

Oh. My. God

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! Y/N, HE-“ Nejire screamed, just as excited as you. You stood there shocked and flustered, staring into space. Todoroki fucking Shoto just kissed your hand. Shoto smirked and let your hand go, continuing the rest of his show in hopes you got the message. He wanted you. It was common sense that you go to the afterparty now.

The show continued for another 2 hours, Todoroki now dripping in sweat from the hot lights shining upon him and his band.

“Thank you all so much for coming out. For those invited, I’ll see you all at the afterparty! Goodnight everyone!” Todoroki bellowed to the crowd, causing them to cheer him and the band off the stage.

You stand there, high off of every guitar riff and belt from the performance feeling sad that the concert was over. But a rush of hope filled your heart in knowing that you were going to see Shoto again soon. You and Nejire walk out of the stadium hand in hand as you discussed the plan to get to the party.

“So the party is not too far from here, exactly 15 minutes away. We could totally call an uber.” Nejire explains, saying that it’s going to be held in Todoroki’s mansion.

When you both arrive at Todoroki’s Mansion your jaws drop. A huge fountain greeted your uber driver’s car, cobblestone driveways leading you towards his front door. There were hedge sculptures all over the front yard and expensive cars adorned the driveway as you and Nejire step out of the car to see the line to get into the party. Damn. More lines.

You approach the security guard; the same one from earlier that night with a nervous wave.

“U-Um excuse me sir, we’re on the list..” You said unconfidently. Nejire nervous laughed and nudged you for sounding so unsure after giving you a long confidence pep-talk in the car.

“Sorry, kiddo. I’m not seein’ an ‘Y/N’ or a ‘Nejire’. Back o’ the line, ladies.” The security guard huffed, hardly even looking at his list.

“Nah it’s cool, Ben. Let them in.” You hear a familiar voice utter before you get the chance to turn around and walk to the back of the line. Sure enough it was Todoroki standing there, joint lit and eyes hazy. Clearly stoned.

It was like he got more gorgeous as you got closer to him, your cheeks heating up as you realize you’re literally standing in front of your fucking celebrity crush. Nejire squeals and runs inside to go find the drummer and get his number, she says drummers do it harder.

Shoto took you by the hand and led you inside the rager in his foyer. The smell of beer and weed absorbs your nostrils as you walk inside with Shoto in hand, watching as Nejire talks up the drummer with ease as if she already knew him from way back when.

Todoroki sat down on the most comfortable couch you have ever sat in with you next to him, taking a big drag of his joint and motioning it towards you.

“Wanna hit? It’s not laced. Promise.” He said cooly, slowly blowing out the smoke. You take it and take a hit, coughing a little as you puff out the smoke.

Damn this must be what rich people smoke.

“Good huh? Grew it myself. Heh.” Todoroki laughed a little as he watched you take another hit.

“Shit. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, finally.” You say, nervousness coating your tongue. Shoto gave you a warm smile, his hazy eyes gleaming in the dim lights of the room.

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Shoto said, kissing the same hand he did at the concert.

You heat up, your panties becoming slightly wet at him touching and kissing you. He smirked and grabbed you by your chin to make sure you look him directly into his grey orbs.

“When I saw you in the crowd, I almost couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” He said into your ear, causing your mind to block out any outside sound that wasn’t his voice. You gulp, blinking dumbly as you try to find the words to say something.

“I-I, um. Th-thank you.” You say, looking down into his lap. Shoto pulled away to smoke his joint a little more. You two talked all night, everyone around you both becoming irrelevant as you seemingly grow closer together.

Strangely, none of the rumors about Todoroki were true. He wasn’t this stuck up asshole the media made him out to be. He was calm and gentle, the sweetest guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with. You learned so much about him that night. He was so misunderstood.

You’re high now and completely hazy as you and Todoroki make out on the couch. You’re not sure how you two even got to this point but you loved it. One thing led to another and now you were straddling him on the couch, his hands in your back pockets as he groped and squeezed your ass.

Your lips mingled as you moan into the kiss, Todoroki’s tongue slipping into your mouth to make home of it. The kiss got so hot your pussy was sopping wet underneath your jeans as you mindlessly grind against him for some kind friction.

Todoroki pulled away and started kissing your neck, damn near ripping your clothes off in front of the entire party. You’re gasping and grabbing at his clothes, forgetting where you are as you become desperate for him. You wanted him so bad and you knew he wanted you too.

“Wanna get out of here? Go upstairs I mean.” Shoto asked, huffing into the skin of your neck as his hard dick poked at your thigh.

“God yes.” You say breathily. As soon as he got your consent he carried you upstairs, the party raising their glasses and their blunts in celebration for Todoroki getting some.

“YES! Y/N tell me everything okay!?” Nejire yelled drunkenly, pulling away from her makeout session with the band’s drummer. You giggle and wave down at her, Todoroki laughing softly as he watched the interaction between you and your best friend.

“Just so you know, princess. I’m not going to go easy on you.” Shoto said, pinning you against the hallway wall.

“I don’t want you to.” You mewl, leaning into his neck to nip at it. Shoto let out a low chuckle and nearly kicked down his bedroom door, tossing you onto his luxurious california king bed.

You take a quick look around his darkly colored room, black walls with coordinating grey funiture. Posters of his inspiration adorned his walls, almost similar to your room just $100,000 richer. He had a mirror above his bed as you look up at your reflection you see Todoroki crawl on top of you, unbuttoning and pulling your jeans off in one fell swoop.

You’re immediately embarrassed, forgetting it was laundry day at home so you threw a thong on because you didn’t have anything else to wear. It was black and lacy and oh so skimpy you quickly move your hands to cover up in shame, Shoto grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands above your head.

“Heh. How’d you know I love lace?” Shoto teased, practically salivating at the sight of your smooth legs beneath him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Shoto said, running his hands along your sides as if he was a lion playing with his prey before he ate it.

You bit your lip, dripping and hungry for some kind of touch in the places you needed him most, your nipples prodding at the thin fabric of your band tee. Yeah, you forgot to wear a bra. Shoto pulled your shirt above your head, tossing it somewhere and hissing at the sight of your bare breasts.

“No bra either? Man.. it must be my birthday. I’m gonna have fun with you, princess.” Todoroki says taking a nipple into his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you as he suckled gently following with short lick causing your entire body to catch flame.

You start moaning miserably, your whole body begging him to take you. Shoto pulls away from your nipple with a light pull of his lips and slips his hand down to your slit, caressing it agonizingly slow to tease you. He takes his other hand and presses his thumb to your lips.

“Open your mouth.” He rasped. And you did, sucking on his thumb as he rested it on your tongue making Shoto moan at the sight, humming a ‘good girl’ under his breath. Shoto held your mouth open and spit, pulling you into a sloppy kiss as he plunged his thick digits into your needy hole.

You arch your back off the bed, biting down onto Shoto’s lip as he finger fucked you without mercy. Your moans filled the air, Shoto watching you intently as he took your breast into his mouth once more.

“Sho- ah! I-I’m gonna-“ You bellow, trying to hold onto something for dear life as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

“That’s daddy to you, princess. Try again and maybe I’ll let you cum around my fingers.” Shoto hissed, slowing his pumping fingers a bit to ensure you got the point.

He was in control. You pant, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath only for it to get caught in your throat again. Desperate moans fall out of your mouth as you beg him to let you cum.

“D-Daddy!~” You gasp, Shoto leaning into your neck, his ear right next your mouth as you scream for him. You collapse into his arms, fucked out and stupid off Todoroki’s strong fingers. All those years of guitar weren’t for nothing.

“That’s it baby.. fuck, you made a mess.” Shoto cooed, slowly dragging his fingers out of you as he watched your slick stick to him sloppily. At this point, he’s so hard you can clearly see the veins in his dick jumping out of his pants, his size making you wince in pain before he even entered you.

“Think you can take all of me, princess?” Shoto asked, throwing his contricting pants and boxers somewhere across the room, releasing his impressive size for you to see. You gulp but nod, licking your lips at the sight of him.

Shoto smirked at your reaction and pumped himself a few times before teasingly tapping the head of his dick against your clit, causing you to yelp from the sensitivity of your abused core.

“Pleaseee.” You whine, Shoto grabbing you by the neck and choking you almost to tell you to shut up and be patient. He wastes no time in plunging into you, the thickness of his dick stretching your walls with a delicious sting.

You claw at his back as he bottomed out, gasping sharply as he filled you completely.

“Am I hurting you?” Todoroki asked with what little sympathy he had left in his body. You shook your head no, moaning as he stayed still inside you.

“P-P-Please move..” you mewl, chewing your bottom lip. Shoto smirked and began rutting his hips into yours at a rough pace, not really caring if you adjusted to him or not. Hard slaps and the sound of your whiny moans filled the room as the headboard of his bed slammed against the wall, probably alerting the entire party downstairs.

You’re screaming now, a moaning mess beneath him as he split you wide open. As your eyes rolled to the back of your head, Shoto throws your legs over his shoulder and starts pounding into you.

He’s going to make sure you’re unable to walk straight for the rest of the week, marking you as his.

“Fuckkk, daddy. S-Slow down.” You pleaded only for Shoto to ignore you and continue his pace, laughing at the shocked and fucked out face you were pulling.

“Told you I wasn’t taking it easy on you. Did you forget already, princess?” Shoto breathed, moving his hands to rub shallow circles into your clit.

Your toes curled up tightly as your orgasm ripped through your body, your moans reaching a cresendo as your scream Shoto’s name.

He hissed as your walls fluttered around him, your pussy gripping him tightly as he fucked into you continuosly.

“I hope you didn’t think I was through with you just because I made you cum. I’m not done yet, doll.” Shoto muttered through your pathetic whines for him to slow down.

He cooed praises at you, a “good girl” here and a “you take my dick so well” there until his thrusts got rusty and sloppy; a sign he was close to cumming.

“Shittt, where do you want me to-“

“I-Inside m-mee! Fuck, cum inside me!” You shriek. And so he did, fucking his hot stickiness into you for a while as you both moan and pant. Shoto rode out your climaxes for a while before slowly pulling himself out as he watched his cum ooze out of your abused pussy.

As Shoto flopped on the bed next to you, you both stare up at the mirror on his ceiling. You’re both sweaty and your hair was a fucking mess from being tossed around the bed for what seemed like hours.

“Shit. Probably late as fuck by now. You wanna stay the night?” Shoto asked, taking your hand and famously kissing it once more. You smile and nod, unable to form coherent sentences as you feel yourself doze off.

Todoroki jumps from his bed and opened the door, screaming from the top of the stairs, “Oi! All you motherfuckers can fuck off home!Party’s over!” You laugh and throw a pillow at him.

“Don’t be so mean, Sho. Uh.. C-Can I call you Sho?” You ask embarrassed.

“You keep fucking me like that you can call me whatever you want, angel.” Shoto groans, grabbing you by your face and kissing you sweetly.

“Honestly, I wanna go again. You down?”

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha imagines #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #bnha todoroki shoto #punk rock au!

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

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On set visits; Queen x reader x Borhap boys pt. 2

*Author's note*

And here is part 2. And that's all I've got of the Rock Angel for now. Hope you all enjoy this special binge read of the series. Soon enough the story will come to an end after a few more chapters (I've had the last chapter written for like 2 years now) but I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well as the binge reading I have provided for you all. Until next time, stay healthy, stay safe, and anyone getting their vaccines GOOD LUCK!

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@simonedk

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@bohemiansweede

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@geek-and-proud

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@wormzteef

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@starswin

___________________________________________________________

*Meeting the new Rock Angel. Filming continues*

A few days later after bonding with the actors playing my boys, I came to any day of filming I could (outside of my album recording and touring with Queen and Adam). Now the boys promised me and I knew they would follow up with it, the young actress they got to play me in as a cameo for the Live Aid sequence.

I was talking with Miami when we both heard a knock and that's when Graham King came in.

"I've got her."

"Bring her in." I said. He opened the door wider and soon came in the young woman came in.

"You wanted to see me Mrs. Kline?"

"Yes my dear come in." I said. She came in and took a seat on one of the producer's chair. "I wanted to speak to you guys privately about some things that have come up. But first I would like to know your name my dear girl."

"Ashley. My name's Ashley Johansson. But my friends call me Ash."

"Lovely to meet you Ash, from what I saw up there you—you blew me away."

"Uhh thank you. And can I just say I've been such a big fan of yours. My mum always played your first album on repeat every day when she'd take me to school. But I thank her for that cause your story has just been such an inspiration to not only me but her as well."

"I'm flattered Ash. I'm always happy to hear that I inspire people, even when I feel like I'm not really doing anything. All I do is just bring my music out into the world and try to give voice to things that other's don't deem important."

"That makes you an inspiration Mrs. Kline." She said.

"Oh please Ash darling, call me (y/n)."

"Okay....(y/n)."

"Now then straight to business. As you know Hollywood's always wanting to create biopics of anything and everything. And while I've been aware of both Queen's story as well as Elton's life being made into films. I've always been reluctant in getting my story out, but from what I saw a few days ago I feel like I might've found the right team to do just that. So my dear Ash, tell me this; who do you trust the most in Queen?" she looked at me confused but she soon realized just what I was doing.

"Brian was asking me tons of questions but that was the only question Roger ever asked me."

"And what did you tell him?"

"I told him, that.....All the members of Queen are my family. But if I had to pick, Roger has always seen each side of me. Whether it was the happiest moment of my life, or the darkest day. He's seen my true colors that none of the other band members had seen." I smiled softly and said.

"What happened after you said that?"

"He—he might not have wanted anyone to know but—I could swear I saw him wipe a tear from his eye." I smiled and lowered my head.

"That's my papa lion alright." I muttered. I looked back up to Graham and Ashley and continued, "After seeing the hard work you all have put into Queen's story, I've come to the decision along with my manager and former boss Miami, that I'm willing to sign off the rights to the film to you Graham King. And I want you my dear Ash to play me." They both looked at me in surprise.

"You're—you're serious? You-you want me to play you?"

"I can think of no other person. My uncle and father figures chose well. They—after all knew me better than I knew myself." I heard Miami chuckle softly.

"Thank you (y/n)."

"But there are conditions that I seriously must emphasize on."

"Whatever you want."

"Okay first; I will be heavily involved with the project."

"Done." He said.

"Second, there are some events I will allowed to be shown. But I absolutely refuse to have the stalking episode I was forced to suffer with be heavily shown. It can be touched on but I want nothing else about it in the film. It was hell for my family and my children were scarred for almost ten years, especially my daughter."

"It was horrifying. In my Folklore and true crime class, someone actually did a story on him in the aspect of why celebrity stalking should've been taken more into consideration." Ash said. I closed my eyes heavily trying to compose myself when I felt a hand grasp mine.

"If anything more is spoken about in regards to my Angel's stalker, the project will immediately be terminated." Miami said. I turned to him and he looked at me and nodded firmly as he patted my hand comfortingly.

"The writer's will be informed on it immediately."

"And in regard to Queen's casting, make sure that those four young boys are involved with the project. I love all four of them, they are—everything I remember when I first worked with Queen."

"It shall be done. After this film wraps up and the premiere at Wembley Stadium, you and I can meet at Abbey Road to discuss further more on the project and all the rights that need to be signed." Graham told me.

"Graham King, you've got yourself a deal." We both shook on it. A pact forged that a movie about the Rock Angel would come to place.

Months passed and I was busy touring alongside Queen and Adam for a time, up until Brian decided to pop in on set for a surprise visit. He told me that the boys were now filming the Rockfield farm studio scenes. Now this was one filming session I definitely didn't want to miss.

Brian and I drove up to the location in Hertfordshire, a charming little place known as Stocker's farmhouse and cottage. Since the real Rockfield farm studios wasn't suitable for filming, and ridge farm closed down back in 2003, Stocker's was the only place left.

Coming up onto the filming location, I began to see it looking sorta similar to what Rockfield was when I had used it earlier in my career.

"The studio definitely chose the perfect setting I must say." I said to Brian who was driving.

"Indeed. When the lads and I first came to Rockfield farm we couldn't believe that that was what Fred had in mind."

"But the wide open spaces sure do provide little to no distraction. Guess that's what made a Night at the Opera so successful to you guys."

"You really think so?"

"I know that's how it was for my first album. Plus why do you think your 5th album is the most talked about in regard to your earlier works."

"Suppose you do have a point." He shrugged. After about ten minutes of driving through the country roads, we finally arrived at the farm and the barn house there made me think of the real Rockfield farm studios.

"Not quite the same but the atmosphere of it just brings back memories doesn't it?"

"It does indeed. Shall we go surprise them?"

"Yes, lets." He shut the car off and we both exited the car. We walked towards the barn house where the guys must already be filming right about now since there wasn't really anyone outside. Once we got up to the door, Brian slowly and quietly opened the door but gestured me to go in first.

"Oh lady's first." He said.

"Thank you." I walked inside and Bri followed behind me. Inside I saw some of the crew walking around setting some stuff up. All around it was like the actual recording studio Rockfield farm had. From all the pictures I remember seeing in either magazines or even Brian himself, it was like I was transported back in time to when Queen recorded "A Night at the Opera".

"You know some of those amps and even Roger's kit we used at the time are here."

"Really? So you and Rog donated some of the actual gear?"

"Yep. Since the fans will be nitpicky about certain aspects it's just a fun little way to give them a taste of some of the real equipment. Even Red's here."

"No way. No wonder why you've been using those Red special copies throughout the tour. But Bri are you sure it's okay? I mean I know how protective you are of Red."

"She's been in the best of care."

"Right, right with your mini-copy. I swear even out of the wig and the clothes I can still see you in Gwilym. Are you sure you didn't have another child with a different woman besides Chrissie?"

"I'm positive." He assured me.

"Oh and speak of the devil there's your clone now. Why don't you go say hi while I go find the rest of the little rascals." I patted his shoulder and walked off. As I walked along I saw a familiar figure wearing a long blonde hair sitting next to another young man wearing long auburn hair that went past his shoulder.

I shook my head and walked up to them saying.

"God I swear it's like I transported back in time to 1975." They looked up and proclaimed my name. I was soon tackled in a sandwiched by Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were touring?" asked Ben.

"I was. But Brian decided to do a little surprise visit so I figured since I missed seeing you four so much, I figured I'd tag along and see how it's coming along. So what all have you done since I was last here?"

"We did a scene in Miami's office to represent Queen getting back together before Live Aid, a concert at Madison Square Garden, and the recording studio scene with Mike Myers." Joe explained.

"Now for the next couple of weeks we'll be doing some of the Rockfield farm recordings as well as the Bohemian Rhapsody music video, when Freddie joins Smile, and the "I want to Break free music video." Ben finished.

"Oh now that last one I've got to see for myself." I said grinning ear to ear. "I'll bet you four are gonna rock the drag look just like my boys did. Especially you Ben." I teased as I gently pinched his cheek.

"Yeah Benjamin I can't wait to see you in that skirt." Joe teased as well pinching his other cheek.

"Alright, alright you two enough." He said brushing our hands away and trying to contain his blush. I giggled softly.

"When that day comes, do I got some stories to share with you all about that day."

"We look forward to hearing them." Said Joe.

"And I look forward to telling them. Just let me know if you boys ever get bored of an old woman ranting on about the past."

"Never (y/n). We could never be bored of you. We love having you here, you've given us a lot of support and advice for playing your coworkers and family members." Ben said as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

"Yeah. We could never get bored of you. The day we get bored of you is the day the four of us stop being Queen fanatics. And this movie only keeps increasing our fandom tenfold each and every day." Joe said as he leaned up against my other shoulder.

"Aww you boys are sweet." I kissed Ben's cheek first which made him blush and softly chuckle.

"You lucky dog! I wanna Rock Angel smooch!"

"Then pucker up Joey dear." He puckered up his lips and I leaned in but at the last second I kissed his cheek which made him pout like a child. I laughed and said. "Sorry my dear, but my lips are reserved for one man."

"Can't blame a guy for trying though right?" he asked hopefully.

"No. I guess not. Now Benjamin, if you'll come with me real quick I would like to spend a little one on one time with you." I wrapped an arm around him when Joe said.

"Better not seduce him away from me!"

"Please Joe dear like I'd ever steal a man from you!" I cried back at him. We walked outside and walked towards the cottage. "Ben I've been wanting to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"When we first met; I had mentioned that I was looking forward to seeing you play the drums, but I noticed that you seemed a bit—tense." He froze right there on the spot. I turned towards him and stood in front of him. "Benjamin. Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Well I—uhh.....when I, when I went to auditioned I—might've said that I......knew how to play the drums. But I've....never drummed a day in my life."

"So you lied? You lied and ended up getting the part of playing my only father figure in the world?" I snapped.

"I'm sorry (y/n) I just really wanted the job. But I worked hard and trained over ten hours a day in the 8 weeks rehearsal time before we shot Live Aid. I just love Queen so much and I—"

"Ben." I pressed my finger to his lips. "Relax. I knew you lied the second day of filming. Roger told me."

"Did he mention the prank that Rami tried to pull on me?" I nodded as I hummed. "Damn rat."

"Oh trust me. When it comes to certain secrets, Roger cannot keep them forever. Especially when his lion cub gets involved in wanting to know." I removed my finger and cupped underneath his jawline. "But when I saw you perform the entire Live Aid sequence, it hardly seemed like you hadn't drummed a day in your life. While I don't condone for liars, I appreciate that you took the time to study just how exactly Roger drums."

"It wasn't easy. But he was supportive and he even gave me a mini drum lesson. Of course he had to step back and say 'alright. Show me what you got'."

"That's exactly like Roger. He always did the same to me whenever he gave me a drum lesson. I remember when he taught me how to play 'Don't stop me now' back when I was an intern and he told me to play it all the way through."

"Jesus that's rough."

"Depends on how you look it. Guess I got on the lighter end than you did cause he's always had a soft spot for me. But his heart's always in the right place when he mentors. Just ask his son Rufus. That boy takes everything after his father. Not just his looks but his talent too."

"Yeah. Roger has given me some good pointers on how to strike the cymbals on a certain song. Or how to properly spin the drumsticks."

"Knowing how to keep the heartbeat going. The drums are the center of the band. If one beat is off, the entire song can go to shit."

"That was always his number one rule to playing the drums. Drilled that into my head every time." I sighed reminiscing the old days of my tutorial sessions with my dad. "So he really was like your father?"

"Yeah. Out of all the members of Queen, Roger was the one I was drawn to the most. It also helped that he loved me just as much as I did him. Always there to comfort me at my lowest moments, but there to celebrate and keep me grounded when I was higher than a kite. Roger Taylor has and will always be my papa lion."

"That's so cute you guys called each other that. Anytime you came up in conversation, Roger always called you his lion cub."

"Either that or his lioness. Lioness is more for the moments when my true strength comes into play and I do something world changing. Lion cub is like a private thing between us. God I can't believe I confessed to him being a lion to me when I was drunk. But if I'm being honest, I don't regret it."

"I can see you don't, my little lion cub." I looked at him and he just gave me Roger's cheeky grin and that familiar twinkle in his eyes just made my heart flutter.

"Cheeky." I grinned. He smiled and shrugged playfully.

Yeah I know he may not look exactly like Roger when I met him but there are some mannerisms that Ben has that just made me think of my adoptive father.

We continued to walk into the cottage cause I wanted to see what they did to the inside of it. There I saw Rami sitting by the piano in the now wearing the long black hair that Fred had at the time. Jesus without the tache, he looked more like Freddie than I could ever imagine.

However that happiness soon turned to dread and absolute disgust as soon coming right beside Rami was a young man who looked like someone who I had loathed my entire life. The one man who made my life a living hell throughout my years with Queen, the poison who nearly destroyed Queen and exposed my secret to the boys.

It was Paul Prenter.

Rami and Paul were chatting away with each other and I felt sick to my stomach.

"(Y/n)? You okay?" Ben asked me.

"Excuse me." I muttered as I passed him. I trudged right over towards Rami and shielded him. "Stay. Away. From him you snake!"

"E-excuse me?" he asked confused. "I don't know what you're talking about." Typical Prenter.

"Don't play games with me Prenter! You might've fooled Freddie once but you will not do it again! I lost him because of you. You ruined his life! And I swear to you I will make you pay for it. I'm not that little girl anymore!"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n) calm down. He's not really Paul Prenter." Rami tried to reason with me.

"Freddie please I'm doing this to protect you!" I then gripped the collar of Paul's shirt and dragged him aside. "You lying son of a bitch! How dare you show yourself again!"

"Wait! Wait I'm not Paul Prenter!"

"STOP LYING TO ME!!!"

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) (M/N) KLINE LET. HIM GO!!" I turned to see Brian as well as Joe, Gwilym and Ben along with some of the crew staring at me. Brian stomped towards me and pulled me away from Paul and he said to me in a stern voice. "The real Paul Prenter is dead. He's been dead just as long as Freddie has. That's an actor playing him. Alan Leech."

My adrenaline came down and when I looked at 'Prenter' again to see that it wasn't the Paul Prenter I knew. For one thing this guy was much younger, the tache wasn't as thick as Paul's was, and his eyes weren't as cold as I remembered Prenter's, they shown with absolute fear.

Oh god.....what have I done? I collapsed to the ground trembling with regret as tears formed in my eyes. I buried my face into my arms as I softly wept. It was then I felt Brian's arms wrap around me, his head gently resting on top of mine as he rocked me slowly while I wept.

*3rd Person POV*

Rami, Joe, Gwilym and Ben looked at each other before turning towards Allen who spoke not a word but was just as worried as the four main ensemble cast was. Rami first tried to approach (y/n) but Brian looked up at him and put his hand up and shook his head.

After she went silent, Brian helped her stand up and he walked her over to the car. He allowed her to just sit there and have some time to herself. Once he shut the door, the young actors walked up to Brian and Joe asked.

"Is she gonna be okay?"

"With time. Allen I apologize ever so much but you can't blame (y/n). The real Paul Prenter he—put her through hell when she started off as an intern. One thing he did was extremely unforgivable that I don't see why we ever kept him around."

"Brian, she uhh—I know I shouldn't say this but when she was trying to defend me from Paul, she—actually called me Freddie." Brian sighed solemnly and said.

"She still blames herself."

"What do you mean?" asked Gwilym.

"Come with me lads." Brian led them over to the cottage porch and all of them sat down along either the railings, the porch swing or on the two chairs that were out. "As you know everyone in Freddie's life suffered after his death. Some of us still grieve the way we do like Roger and myself. And there are some who became so fragile like Deacy. (Y/n).....she's always lied on the in between stage. She misses Freddie beyond anything no mistake about that, but then there are days when she blames herself."

"Blames herself?" Rami asked.

"Yes. See, when Freddie first told us that he was diagnosed with AIDS. He wanted to keep it away from (y/n), because her career was skyrocketing, plus she had her own family to look after with Kelly and the twins. Freddie didn't want her to worry about him, but one year when we were all in Montreux recording our last album Innuendo, (y/n) allowed us to stay at a vacation house of hers that she had there. That's when she began to deduce just what was wrong with Fred. He told Roger and myself that the poor dear had blamed herself for not being there for him. Because—well truthfully there was a fallout with Queen and the Rock Angel for a time. Now whether we make that into the film is unknown I know writers are always doing rewrites. But she felt like had she stepped up to Prenter or held onto Freddie just a bit longer before turning her back on him, he would've been alive today."

"Jesus." Muttered Ben.

"Poor lass." Allen muttered.

"But she couldn't have known. None of you did."

"And we didn't. Because Fred didn't want anyone to know. It was his personal business and his alone. And although (y/n) says she accepts that it wasn't her fault, there are some days where she says it is. And any reminder of it just sometimes makes her snap."

"I don't blame her. I—I know exactly what she's going through because of my dad's illness. Anything regarding glioblastoma and I just freak out. But—thanks to these guys I.....don't know where I would be."

"We're here for you mate." Gwil said as he patted Joe's knee.

"So you see guys, this film is bringing back a lot of memories for her. Good and bad. So Allen I really hope you don't take offense to what just happened."

"Not at all Brian. Besides after hearing and probably thinking what the real Paul Prenter did, no wonder why she would get defensive around Rami. I hold no grudge against her."

"Thank you. Just—give her time to cool down and then you all can go see her." The five boys nodded in agreement and took the guitarist's word.

*My POV*

After a while once I calmed down and decided I needed to find young Allen Leech and apologize for my erratic behavior. I got out of the car and dapped my eyes with a handkerchief and walked towards the barn.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Kline. We're—not sure it's a good idea for you to be here right now." Said one of the crew members. That's understandable, I knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"It's not that we don't want you here it's just that, well after seeing what happened between you and Mr. Leech. We—think it'd be best if you were to not be on the set for a while." I sighed and said.

"I understand. I was way out of line. But—can you please express my deepest apologizes to Mr. Leech. As well as the boys."

"You can tell me that yourself." An Irish voice spoke up. It was then I looked up to see the five boys themselves.

"You're not going anywhere." Said Rami.

"Mr. Malek, we....."

"We heard what you said dear. Now step away from our Rock Angel so that the six of us may talk." He came up and took my hand and the boys took me into the cottage.

We came into the kitchen area and Rami gestured for me to sit down. Joe pulled out a chair and I sat down while the boys surrounded me.

"Boys; I—what you all had to witness, I have no excuse for my behavior. I am ashamed that you all had to see me act like that. Especially you Allen dear. I—hope you all can find it in your hearts to forgive me."

"I do. Seeing me remind you of someone who—was just known to be such an arsehole and black sheep in Queen's circle, I can see why you acted the way you did. I would've done the same thing too had I seen someone I hate come back and standing before someone who was once a dear friend of mine." Allen said. He came up to me and extended his hand.

"Why don't we forget this whole mess ever happened and start over? Hello Rock Angel, my name's Allen Leech." I looked up at him and smiled as I took his hand.

"Pleasure to meet you Allen darling. And please like I've told these guys, call me (y/n)." he smiled and that's when I stood up and hugged Allen and he hugged me back.

"Aww now that's sweet." Rami cooed.

"We're all friends now." Joe said with a smile.

"Yes. We're all friends. Now get in here you lot, group hug boys!" they all laughed and cheered as we all came together and group hugged each other. Forming a new bond and a new start with one another.

Thankfully the studio actually managed to let me stay the rest of the day after that whole fiasco (all thanks to the boys but mostly Allen for agreeing to not press charges on me for assault). Of course they warned me that with another outburst like that, not only would I not be allowed on set again, my consultant position would be taken away.

So I was more well behaved than usual after hearing that I would be kicked off the set.

Right now the lads were recording Gwilym's bit for the guitar solo, but what was cool was that the crew decided to allow Brian to play the solo for the fun of it. So as the playback of Freddie's voice came on, Gwilym stepped aside while Brian came in his spot and began playing his guitar solo.

I stood beside Gwilym as we both observed Brian playing the famed Bohemian Rhapsody guitar solo. I even took my phone out and took a video of what was going on. After the solo, Gwilym walked over to Brian and I made sure to get both of them in the shot.

"That's brilliant. I love that." Rami's voice spoke as Freddie from the other side of the recording studio.

"So now what?" asked Gwilym.

"The operatic section." Said Rami. Both Gwilym and Bri nodded. A grin spreading across Gwilym's face as he muttered.

"Ah-huh. The operatic section. Good."

"Of course." Brian said. Jesus just seeing them like this and hearing the same voice come out of them, it really was like we took Bri back from 1975 and brought him here.

When Dexter Fletcher called cut, I stopped my video and said.

"Oh man Jack's gonna flip when he sees this."

"Is he ever gonna come by for a visit?" Brian asked me.

"Yeah I myself would like to meet the famous Jack Kline." Joe said from the other side of the booth.

"Well unlike us where we know when our schedules begin, law enforcement doesn't get days off. Especially when he's going for the Chief's chair. But who knows maybe he might come by for a day if not a few hours."

"I hope so. It's been awhile since we've seen that husband of yours." Brian told me.

"Yeah, I know. Jack misses coming in every day just like the old days."

"I'll bet he does. Or he just misses seeing the love of his life perform and rehearse. Back in the day when you kids first started dating, he'd always have that puppy love look in his eyes as he watched up on stage. Remember the time in Seattle?"

"That was in Houston, Bri. If you're meaning the time he was so distracted by watching me that he almost ended up tripping over the stage, that was in Houston, Texas."

"Oh yeah that's right."

"Alright we've had our fun, now let's do this for real. Gwilym get to your mark. Brian and (y/n), gonna have to ask you both to get out of the shot frame please."

"Good luck Gwilym dear." I said as I gave him a peck on the cheek for luck as Brian handed him his original red special and we both walked out of the frame and stood behind the camera.

The day continued on filming the boys recording the famed song that this movie was named after and I swear to you, it was like I was seeing history happen. Like I was transported back in time to the summer of 1975 and seeing my boys (just five years before they even became my boys, back when I was just one of their millions of fans) record one of my favorite albums.

And even seeing the struggle and perfectionism that Freddie had for this song. Rami truly brought Freddie's perfectionist behavior right onto the camera and it just—had me bewildered. It was like I was seeing Freddie again, hard at work on his masterpiece.

After a long day's filming, Brian and I unfortunately had to head back to the city to actually record an album together that he was helping me produce. Since touring was over for now, the boys and I (yes including Adam) we were all focusing on our solo stuff now till the next tour came around.

And since Bri had some free time after working with a talented young woman, I had asked him to come help produce my latest album 'Resurrection'. Ever since hearing about the Queen film and also hearing that Elton as well was going to make a biopic film, the title was named in honor of their upcoming films.

Because it would show a whole new generation of audiences what their stories were and show them that like a phoenix, Queen and Elton will resurrect because you can't keep down true legendary artists.

So for about 2 weeks Brian helped produce the album and of course he and I would post on our Instagram accounts both pictures of brief videos of some behind the scenes stuff of our partnership together.

"And there she is. Working diligently as ever." I heard Bri said. I looked up from my I-Pad to see him holding his phone, probably taking a video for his collection package he likes to do on certain events on his Instagram.

"Yes and I thought you'd be helping me too."

"I am. I'm your publicity for now, then I'll go back to being your producer." I smiled and laughed as Brian chuckled. He turned his phone onto him as he spoke to his Instagram followers, "As you can see we're both working extremely hard. Now we can't give too much away, but you can expect this album to be just as powerful as her previous albums in the past."

"But we unfortunately have to go now, our special guest on the album has just arrived and like Bri said, I never give away spoilers." I said as I came in the shot now.

"Okay well you heard the Angel ladies and gents, this is us signing off till next time. Bye."

"Bye!" Brian turned off the video camera and exited his account. And just as he pocketed his phone away, my special guest came in through the doors.

"(Y/n)!"

"Pink, my sister how have you been?" Yep you read right. I had reached out to the one and only Pink to come sing a duet with me. For years since she came up on the market, people have confused our voices cause she and I had the same powerful low range vocals.

Our first time doing a duet was—oh gosh I wanna say very early 2000's. I wanna say even just shortly after the 9-11 attack. I wanted to bring up an album that would spark some life and hope into the people of America, my in-laws especially cause when we lost Jared and Gen, the whole family felt like it was gonna come apart.

I auditioned several young female artists to sing along with me but their voices just either weren't right for the album or they sounded too nasally. But when this young woman at the time, an artist barely known came along, it blew me away at how our voices could mold well together.

So with me singing in a higher range and her taking the low range we launched the song 'Death by bombs, (live by hope)'. It was at the #1 charts in America for the entirety of the New York cleanup and became a national anthem. Pink and I were even asked for several years to sing the song every 9-11 for about 9 years.

Now here we are again six years after our last collaboration.

"You ready to do this?" I asked her.

"Angel, I was born ready. Anytime to sing with you is always gonna be a good one."

"Alright then ladies, step into the booth and let's get this song rolling."

"You got it Brian." Pink said enthusiastically as she and I walked with an arm wrapped around each other's shoulders and we walked into the booth together to begin our work.

Another week passed and when I received a message from Ben Hardy telling me that they were about to start filming my all time favorite music video 'I want to break free' I was on the first flight back to England (since I was recording the album in America) to see the shooting for myself.

I walked through the studio and everything came flooding back. The extras in the cow patterned leotards, the design of the music video set but it wasn't until I saw Joe dressed in the same granny attire that Deacy wore that hit me with pure nostalgia.

"Oh my god nana Johanna I did not know you were still alive." I said exasperatedly.

"Yeah, yeah hahaha very funny." Joe sneered.

"No, no Joe don't take my comment as an insult. You look—every ounce from what I remember Deacy looking like the day I came by with my wedding invitations."

"You were passing out wedding invitations during this music video?" he asked me. I nodded with a hum.

"Jack and I decided to come by to see the guys cause I wanted to deliver their invitations personally. And also ask them to walk me down the aisle since—well you probably know."

"Yeah I get it." He said as he came up and placed a hand on my shoulder. "So you really think I looked exactly like John did?"

"Absolutely. All that's missing is a crying girl crying out 'where's daddy! Where's daddy! That's not my daddy'."

"Okay this could be my dirty mind but that sounded—" I playfully slapped him in the back of the head.

"You're right to get your head out of the gutters young man! I was referring to his daughter Laura. I mean I wasn't there to see it, but Veronica had told me just shortly after the shoot that she had brought the kids over to see their father. Of course Michael and Robert were hysterical with laughter, but poor little Laura who was only 4 at the time was crying cause she didn't recognize her dad."

"Awww well if you wanna recreate it, I can call my sister and get my niece on Facetime to see if it'll work."

"As much as I would love to see that, let's not scar your niece up for life. But yeah, Laura kept denying that the old granny was her dad. Until he took off the wig and she recognized her daddy's fluffy hair."

"That is literally the most adorable thing I've ever heard."

"I know. Laura was a sweet kid. She was the one most attached to me when I first met her. She even recreated a bit of my song for my birthday when she was just 3 years old."

"Okay (y/n) seriously stop you're gonna give me cavities at this point." I laughed and said.

"Alright now show me the rest of the boys, I want to see them."

"They all look amazing. Except for Ben." I looked at him skeptically but he just took my hand and led me towards the kitchen part of the set. There I saw Rami by the table in the pink shirt and leather black skirt, sporting the 1950's hairdo and nails that Freddie wore that day. Gwilym by the fridge in the pink nightie and bunny slippers, along with the curlers, and of course Ben in the 'Rogerina' getup.

The same style wig, the schoolgirl outfit with the leggings, the heels. Wow he looked more of a Rogerina than the real Roger did for this music video.

I let out a wolf whistle and that's when the three of them turned towards me.

"Rogerina has returned. The women who makes men drool at her feet and women turn for her. And if my son Freddie were here, honey you would most certainly turn him."

"God (y/n) please stop embarrassing me." Ben whined.

"I shall not. My cousin Rogerina was the talk of the town back home. Of course along with Aunt Brianna and Fairy godmother Frida."

"Is that what you really called the guys when you saw them like this?" asked Gwilym.

"Who do you think started the trend names? Freddie's was—kinda last minute since....well due to certain things going on at that time. But really you guys, I love each and every one of you."

"I'm still disappointed in Ben's look." Joe bluntly stated.

"And why's that?"

"His thighs are too big. Too much rugby."

"Yes Joe I know. I've been trying to slim down as best I could but these thighs man!"

"Not everyone can please everybody Ben. But trust me when I say, fans will love this and will love you as Rogerina. Plus I think you look absolutely beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Hell yeah. You're still prettier than I am."

"Oh come on now that's never gonna happen. You are an eternal beauty."

"That's what I've been telling her for years." A voice said behind us. No way. It—it couldn't be. I turned around and my ears weren't deceiving me at all.

Dressed in grey shirt with a dark color blazer and dark blue jeans, the greying of his once blonde hair but those warm eyes of his were unmistakable. A wide smile spread across my face as I laughed out and walked towards him.

"Jack!" I hugged him and he hugged me back. I separated but kept my arms wrapped around his neck. "What are you doing here?"

"The case got solved so I figured might as well put some time off and see just what you and Freddie were talking about. So I called up Roger and asked him where the filming was at, and here I am."

"Ohhh you." I leaned forward and we gave each other a loving kiss.

"Awww." We separated from each other and I cleared my throat.

"Whoa. Okay did we just transport back in time?" asked Jack.

"No love. Boys, I'd like you to meet my husband and the love of my life for over 30 years, Jack Kline. Jack, this is Rami Malek, Gwilym Lee, Joe Mazzello and Ben Hardy." I pointed to each of the actors individually.

"It's a pleasure to meet you boys." Jack said with a wave.

"Believe us, it's an honor to meet you Mr. Kline. Brian, Rog and (y/n) have told us many stories about you." said Rami.

"Oh god, if Roger was telling the stories he made me look bad didn't he?" I playfully slapped his chest.

"Not all the time." replied Ben.

"In all seriousness, I must say.....wow this is....."

"I know right? Oh darling just wait till you see the Live Aid sequence Brian managed to record. Don't they just look the part?"

"Yeah. So much so that it's almost scary."

"Ohh and Jack dear, you remember back when George and Jackson were obsessed with Jurassic Park?"

"Lord do I ever. They practically ruined the tape." He said with a groan.

"Well—Joe here, played the young boy Tim in the film." I then saw Jack's jaw drop as he turned towards Joe.

"So you're—you were....."

"Yep. I was little Tim Murphy in Jurassic Park. My first major gig that got my name out there."

"Wow. And seeing you now dressed like this it—you look so much like him." Jack said in awe. I turned to Joe with a 'told you so' look.

"Yeah it was scary to see just how much I looked like him. I even asked my mom if she was up to anything around 1983." Jack laughed.

The rest of the day was spent seeing the boys perform the music video, as well as a couple more stage concerts from both the 70's and 80's. When Jack got to see these four young actors in full Queen costume and hair/makeup, he was blown away. As we were in the back of the extras who were the crowd, Jack kept his arms around me as we watch in awe.

His head leaning against mine as we watched Rami literally become Freddie with every strut, head turn and bent back, se saw Gwilym play a model of the red special guitar just how Brian is known for, Ben working hard in the back with the drums literally playing just like how Roger is known to play. But I know that out of the four of them, Jack was beyond amazed at seeing Joe Mazzello play his former mentor and idol John 'Disco' Deacy.

His bass playing and even doing the funky little moves that John as known to do on a more upbeat song like 'Fat Bottomed girls,' or 'We will Rock you'. We clapped along with the extras and cheered for them. I knew that with what I've seen so far, this movie was going to be—sensational. Just like the band themselves.

Later that night after wrapping for the day, Jack and I were now at home getting ready for bed.

"So, what did you think of it?"

"They picked the right actors. And the right team to work on it. You were right (y/n)."

"Of course I am." I teased.

"Don't get cheeky with me love, you know what I mean. This movie it—it's everything I hoped it would be. I just wonder if—he would've loved it." I looked at my husband empathetically and said so

"He does." I looked out towards the window up at the stars and continued, "They both do." I felt Jack wrap his arm around me and the two of us cuddled up close together and fell right asleep after a long and busy day.

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

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I completely agree with your post about Tom. People’s entitlement over their favourite celebrities goes to far. And tbh I really hate when fans act like they know for sure how he feels and what he’s thinking based on very ambiguous “evidence”. This is usually done so people can align Tom’s views with their own which requires most of the time someone else to be villanised. What I mean is that fans have no actual proof that the writers, producers and director of Loki are bad people and that Tom is unhappy with the directions the show took. There is usually nothing to be inferred about who these people are beyond their merits as professionals. But fans present their assumptions as facts anyway and that has evolved into actual harassment of the production team. All the while piggybacking on this idea that Tom thinks exactly what like them. And I am saying this as someone who hated TR and thinks Loki was deliberately made weaker/less important so Thor could shine more. And someone who hates pretty much all of Mike Waldron’s previous work on Rick and Morty. But is still feels very presumptuous to act like these people deliberate compromised the their own work because they hate Loki and his fans. And that they are filled with every prejudice know to man. And it’s also very demeaning to victimise Tom in the process. Of course some of the people involved suck but most of the time these assumptions have no basis whatsoever. And there is also an over-identification going on between some fans and Tom which isn’t healthy for anybody.

Sorry it took me several days to get to this, anon. It took me a minute to get my thoughts in order. But in a nutshell, yeah, I agree with a lot of the things you pointed out here - especially with fans acting like they know for a fact what he's thinking or feeling.

Under the cut for length and a bit of wank and disagreement w/ the "Marvel hates Loki" discourse so please skip if you don't want to see it.

A lot of the Loki series wank is rooted in whether or not Tom actually likes the series and significantly contributed to it, or if he's just saying what he has to say for publicity and his ideas and contributions were largely ignored. None of us will ever know for sure, bc none of us are Tom and none of us were directly involved in the series, so it's moot speculation, really. But it seems to basically come down to people trying to reconcile their feelings about the show with their feelings about Tom.

I don't necessarily think there's anything wrong with believing that Tom's hands were tied to an extent and/or he just says things that he has to for promotion, but I also don't think that it should be treated as fact and then used as, like, ammunition against other people working on the show. I personally have not seen anyone I know or am friendly with taking their complaints to the level of harassment of actual people irl (that seems to be more of a twitter thing, as far as I can tell, and imo comes from an entirely different place than just hating the show [I think there's an inherent meanness in people whose instincts are to harass and bully bc they want to actively make others feel like shit]) but I do see it posted as fact, time and time again, that the showrunners had a personal vendetta against Loki and were intent on making the series as bad as possible, and that Tom was helpless to do anything about it.

Which I get, in a way, bc I personally believe that the Russos had, if not a vendetta, an active dislike of Loki and a vested interest in getting him "out of the way" in a manner that would make him look pathetic in IW - but, I certainly can't say that's the case for sure, and I also think it's a little different bc Tom's contractual obligations for his film appearances were likely very different than what he (and/or his people) negotiated for the show.

That's neither here nor there but my point is, I can understand where the theories come from but I just don't think that's the case here, and seeing it so often makes me feel kinda uncomfortable (for a lot of reasons but also) bc, imo, it undermines Tom's autonomy for fans to act as if he's little more than a puppet on a string, just saying whatever he has to say to please the powers that be. Like, yes, there are legally binding contracts that probably limit how candid he can be, and we all know that he sugarcoats things and never says anything bad about anyone, which can make him seem like a bit of an "unreliable narrator" when he gushes about the show -

- but, he's also a big name celeb (I mean, the studio has always banked on his name being attached to the project bc he's the one who would draw in the most viewers). He's got clout (is that the right word?) to back him up - they wanted him, specifically, to play Loki in this series. Without Tom, there's no show. So why would they want to alienate him, silence him, or dismiss him when he comes to the table and says "here are my ideas"?

My point is, it's unfair and, yes, demeaning to act as if Tom is this voiceless, powerless victim who has no choice but to act in a series he hated that was purposefully trying to destroy his character, and then to turn around and mindlessly sing its praises while promoting it.

I think that the truth is somewhere in the middle - Tom's creative control was likely limited bc he wasn't the director and wasn't the showrunner or head writer, and no one person is ever completely in control when it comes to the end result that we, the audience, end up seeing on the screen anyway. He may not have been entirely happy with every writing or directing choice that was made. But it's also very unlikely that he had no say at all or that any input he had was dismissed (or 95% of it, as it were); again, the series is banking on his name being the draw and he has the advantage of being an authority on Loki while also being intelligent and eloquent enough to convey his perspective on the character. I think that the real issue is that Tom's current perspective and/or interpretation of Loki no longer aligns with his interpretation of OG Loki from 2011-13. Which is, admittedly, a very hard pill to swallow.

Anyway, this may have veered off in another direction and idek if you wanted this answered or to have a conversation or maybe you were just venting - but, here we are.

To make it less about Loki specifically and more about Tom in general, though, yeah, ultimately I just wish his fans wouldn't feel so entitled toward him and his opinions, or his career choices, or his love life, or his clothes. I was browsing one of the Tom ask blogs (or maybe it was a Zawe one, I don't remember now) the other day and I find it really creepy, for lack of a better word, at how invested people are in Tom's, like, day-to-day whereabouts. Someone saw him at a restaurant in NYC - I wonder if he's still there today? Where's he staying? Is he there as a tourist or for work reasons? Who could he be meeting with in New York? A producer? Another play? Will he host SNL? Is Zawe still with him or did she go back to London? etc etc like, it really goes back to my original point in my original post which is, basically, who caaaaaaaares, why are you investing so much of your day trying to figure out what Tom is doing with his?

Now I'm just venting, but yeah ... shit's weird.

#asks #a nonny mouse #charlotte replies #tom hiddleston is my favorite unicorn #disclaimer - i know a lot of my mutuals feel this way about tom and my disagreement with those takes is not meant as a personal attack #but again if my opinions hurt your feelings or make you feel like you can't trust me #please just unfollow so i don't have to keep feeling the need to apologize all over the place #for shit i post on my own blog #long post

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lokiandbuckyaremine · 3 years

Text

The Girl at the Table

Prompt: “Tom Hiddleston x (non actressxplus size) reader where reader is hanging out at the cafe while doing her work,and it so happened that the cafe is quite full,when someone(Tom) asked to share table with her,and when she noticed it was Tom(her huge celeb crush) she was so shy that she didn't even find the courage to even ask for an autograph but before Tom goes,he somehow was interested with her with how busy she was and noticing her love for books,and asked her to get coffee/tea sometime 😅😅😊” ~ Requested by @tom-hlover

Warnings: NONE

Author’s Note: HEY ALL! Omg been a while! I’m back. I’ve very involved with my Music studies and work but all good things. Will try to get things done. Love you all and hope everyone is staying happy, healthy, and safe.

MASTERLIST

Out of all places you chose to do your work, it had to be this cafe. You silently smacked your head as you heard the door once again ding and allow in yet another customer. Usually the cafe was not this busy and you always sat at the same table, at the same window, watching the same scenery. But today seemed different and you had no idea why.

Silently sipping your Chai tea, you peered around to see the crowd gathered around the counter waiting for their expensive drinks. As you resumed typing away on your computer, the barista yelled “Drink for Mr. H! We have a Chai tea latte for a Mr. H!” You frowned as you looked over to the counter and saw a tall man squeeze his was through the line. Who the hell writes their name so official on a cup? Can’t people just use their first or last names? Your thoughts amused yourself as you resumed once again to type away. Hopefully nothing else will distract you....

As if karma bit you in the butt, you soon felt the presence of another person at your table. “Pardon me, Miss. But do you mind if I share the table with you? The rest are a bit full.” You looked up at the tall figure who you soon recognized to be the “Mr. H” the barista referred to. He was strikingly handsome and British, the perfect combo for you. Contemplating getting your work done or having a hot British guy sit next to you, you smiled softly and gestured to the seat in front of you. “Please, be my guest.”

The handsome stranger “thanked you” and removed his jacket and scarf, revealing his lean and muscular figure. Looking over to him, you began to feel slightly self-conscious as you felt the pressure of his stare on you. You weren’t as skinny or curvy as most girls, which prevented you from feeling confident, but something in you made you feel even more self-conscious in front of him.

Silence fell between the both of you, but soon ended when the man cleared his throat. “Oh, ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ one of my all time favorites. Book report?” You peered above your book and noticed how blue his eyes were....almost familiar to you. “Uh yea, not really the biggest Shakespeare fan but this one isn’t too bad.” The man chuckled softly, and sipped on his latte. “Not a big fan? Shakespeare is quite brilliant with his writing. Why don’t you like him?” You shrugged and blushed at the stranger’s teasing. “I don’t know. He speaks in such a weird way that I can’t seem to understand his purpose or what the hell he is talking about. It’s exhausting and I just want to get this paper done, ya know?”

You both laughed and he couldn’t help but smile at you as you focused back at your book. “Well, I’m Tom by the way and would love to give you a hand if you’d like.” Tom....Mr. H....oh my god! TOM HIDDLESTON! You were sitting across from THE Tom Hiddleston. Not realizing how much your mouth was open, you nearly choked on your spit as you began stuttering. “Oh my god! Tom as in Tom Hiddleston?! Or should I say Mr. H!” You nearly fainted as he flashed you his gorgeous smile. “I am he, darlin. But can we keep it quiet, I’m trying to be low-profile.” He sent you a wink and your heart fluttered.

You shook you head and began to bite your cheek, trying to prevent the huge girlish smile from creeping on your face. “I’m so sorry. I’m just such a huge fan and love you and your acting. I would’ve never expected you to sit with a girl like me.” He furrowed his eyebrows at you and leaned across the table. “What do you mean, darling? Why wouldn’t I sit with you?” You shifted uncomfortably, as you began to feel small under his stare. “Well it’s just that I’m not like the other girls you’re with or you hang out with. I’m no Hollywood model or skinny or pretty like the rest. I’m just a small town girl.”

This seemed to upset Tom, as he reached over to gently tap your hand. “Look, all those girls are all about attention. Most of them are fake. They paint themselves with makeup and starve themselves to keep such an unnatural figure. It sounds so cliche, but it’s true. You, my darling, are gorgeous and are a natural beauty. One of the first things I noticed actually. I came over because you seemed so calm and content as you read your book, something I don’t see too many females do nowadays.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

Tom really was a Prince Charming. You looked over to him and flashed him a smile as he resumed to sip his latte. “Thank you, Tom. Really. Coming from a huge celebrity like you let alone an extremely attractive one means a lot.” He winked back at you and nodded. “By the way, what are you doing in this area anyways? Kind of random for you to be here.” He shifted in his seat as if he was trying to remain undercover. “Well my director and I were looking at some theaters in the area to promote our new Shakespeare drama. We are looking to expand and there are a few theaters here that have come recommended. Plus we figured it was a great place to keep low.”

Wow. Tom Hiddleston was going to be spending time in your hometown. So many thoughts went through your head. Maybe you can both----”As a matter of fact, now that you and I have met, perhaps you can show me around or make me feel at ease while I’m here. Wouldn’t want to lose such a friendly and gorgeous face as yours.” Damn, he is slick. You were gonna ask for an autograph, but this far out-beat that! “SURE! Wow, yea, I would love that. But only if you help me with this essay.” He chuckled and got up from his seat to join you. “You might want to make room, Darling. This is going to be a very long coffee date.”

Stuck in a booth, at a coffee shop, with the one and only Tom Hiddleston...this was a dream come true.

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Tag List (OPEN)

@jobean12-blog @littlenerdgirl16 @jokesonjess @jewels2876 @mashtons-dirtbag @hernameiswhatt @ballyhoobarnes @lauxeyson @thiddlestoff @thatbitchsaidhi @marvelous-heroimagines @iamwarrenspeace @violentlybarnes @moondancewrites @toddneilanderperry @mizz-kraziii @lovelybones81 @thinemineours @godohammers @buckywhoops @thatfangirl16 @thummbelina @notyourtypicalrose

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tomhiddlesedit #tom hiddleston x reader fluff #fluff #marvel #fic writing #requests #loki #tom x reader

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farchanter · 3 years

Photo

Steven Hall: Maxwell’s Demon

It’s an unsettling business, when you really look at it.

Unsettling to think that when we read a novel, we’re burning through years of a writer’s life in a matter of hours. Unsettling too, though in a different way, the realisation that a reader will rarely have any sense of the temporal disparity at all. From a reader’s perspective, the words invite movement across a page at an obvious pace, sometimes racing, sometimes ambling, sometimes moving with a slow, deliberate creep, and for all the world as though the writer is right there alongside the reader, that the two are in this together, tiptoeing, then sprinting, then pausing for breath at one another’s side. But none of that’s true. The truth is, it took me forty-eight minutes to get from writing the words ‘It’s an unsettling business’ to here, to build that little road with its various curves, slopes and rises. To work it over, to stamp its surface as flat as I possibly could, to do my best to ensure you wouldn’t trip or stumble along the way. How long did it take you to go from there, to there, to here?

Since I committed to reading more books a few years ago, I’ve read some outstanding work. My favorite discovery, however, is likely Steven Hall’s debut The Raw Shark Texts. It’s a literary laser-beam targeted right at me— it’s an ambitious, cerebral, maybe even somewhat pretentious horror story built around the idea of the transformative power of communication. It lives in a space adjacant to Mark Z. Danielewski’s seminal House of Leaves, and comes closer to that mark than any fiction I’ve read since. I don’t know that it’s strictly the best book I’ve read on this journey, but it’s such a big story— such a titantic swing for the fences— that I couldn’t help but fall in love with it and its warts.

So, when it came out that Hall’s second novel— this, Maxwell’s Demon— I was both excited and nervous. Nervous, because when an author succeeds with a book as high-brow and artsy as The Raw Sharks Texts, that tends to give them the license they need to turn their next work into something even more into the avant garde— and this jump is particularly difficult to do well. After all, House of Leaves was followed by Only Revolutions— despite that novel’s success, I found it so prose-y as to damage one’s ability to consume the story.

It came as quite the surprise, then, that when Maxwell’s Demon was finally in my hands it came across as much more restrained than The Raw Shark Texts.

Thomas Quinn is a writer living in a shadow. His father, Stanley, was one of the most celebrated journalists and poets of his generation. When his mother passes away, his father all-but vanishes from Thomas’s life, too— but not from the public. In fact, Stanley takes up a protégé— a fiction writer named Andrew Black who goes on to write Cupid’s Engine: in-universe, one of the most popular and world-changing novels of all time. And right there, on the cover, is the glowing accolade of Stanley Quinn.

Once Stanley passes, however, Black and Thomas strike up an unusual relationship. On one side is Black, one of the most venerated popular English novelists of all time. The literary press styles him as Stanley Quinn’s stylistic son. On the other is Stanley’s actual son, an author struggling to make ends meet. Yet, through Stanley, they are bound— one bitter of the other’s relationship, the other curious in turn. That strange partnership leads Black to send Quinn a mysterious photograph of an unsettling black orb. In investigating, Quinn starts down a rabbit hole of people who believe in a magical power of the written word— not magical in the sense that one’s eighth-grade English teacher would use it, but instead a literal supernatural force with the power to change reality.

In many ways, Maxwell’s Demon is an extension of the philosophy Hall explores in The Raw Shark Texts— the idea that humans don’t simply write down things that happen to them or wish would happen. Instead, the act of writing has a real ability to prescriptively recontextualize and alter the world around it.

If The Raw Shark Texts is that philosophy viewed through the lens of the horror genre (and particularly a House of Leaves lens), then Maxwell’s Demon is that same philosophy presented as a mystery novel (and, especially, it makes no pretense about what it owes The Da Vinci Code).

There’s a lot to like here, and once the book hits its stride you find yourself on a fun pendulum: you’re fully willing to accept a supernatural cause before Hall slowly presents evidence to walk you back to a mundane explanation, right before another shocking moment which casts the entirety of that mundane explanation into doubt— and the cycle begins again. Once we got there, I couldn’t read through the story fast enough.

There are two problems, after a fashion, with Maxwell’s Demon. I mention in the previous paragraph that the story has a good pace once it gets rolling, but it takes a while for that to happen. Relatedly, it lacks the “popcorn movie” feel that defines Dan Brown’s writing, the “pageturnability” that leads you to plow through Angels & Demons in one night. Brown is an expert at ending each chapter in a particular way to compell you to continue, to read just one more, which Maxwell’s Demon doesn’t do. This may be a deliberate choice— I’ve heard other writers refer to Brown’s technique as “cheap tricks"— but between the relatively slow build-up of the relationship between Black and Quinn and Hall’s predilection to philosophical explainers, I don’t think he quite nails the difficult highwire act between high-concept metafiction and mass-market pop culture he was shooting for.

There’s a truly startling twist ending here, and it achieves the same thing that a lot of modern mystery stories do— it’s so shocking it overpowers the part of your brain that would ordinarily realize that it makes no sense. If one were coming to Maxwell’s Demon purely as a mystery, one would find it disappointing. The careful layering of evidence and use of negative space which defined, say, Agatha Christie is absent. There’s no real plausible way to deduce what’s really going on from a plain reading of Maxwell’s Demon, and that would bother genre fans.

But, to my mind, this isn’t really a mystery story— it wears the clothing of a mystery, but those trappings are a vehicle for Hall’s metaphysics more than a sincere adoption of the genre per se. As someone who enjoys those metaphysics, I similarly enjoyed Maxwell’s Demon.

There’s a recurring theme of inadequacy in the story, and it humanizes Thomas Quinn to the point where it’s painful and upsetting to read. He holds an idealized version of himself— he is Thomas Quinn, novelist— but over the course of Maxwell’s Demon that ideal is slowly burned away. He is a man undergoing an identity crisis, and it feels so personal that a reader’s heart goes out to Quinn. He comes to realize that he is failing as a writer— on the verge of financial catastrophe. His wife is a successful scientists chasing down her dream, and he comes to realize that he is inadequate as a partner to her— that he is failing her romantically and sexually. He carries the weight of losing both parents, and of his father’s seeming discarding of him for Black. These bitter pills lead Quinn to make some very poor choices— but, with the care Hall takes in painting these inadequacies as the background for Quinn’s character, we can’t help but understand why he makes them. The outstanding humanization of Thomas Quinn, the careful characterization, is what carries the novel.

After two books, it’s fair to say that Hall has difficulty writing women. In both The Raw Shark Texts and Maxwell’s Demon, the characters have brilliant wives who work tirelessly to pull their husbands out of the mud. But they don’t necessarily have a ton of depth of their own— in the case of Maxwell’s Demon’s Imogen, her primary role is to shine so brightly that we both can’t look at her directly and cast all the darker Thomas’s shadows. She is the Guide on Thomas’s Hero’s Journey, but she does not seem to grow otherwise.

Possibly a spoiler in this next paragraph, although I’m going to endeavor to not spoil the entire mystery.

In fact, Hall’s tiny cast of women serves as an interesting literary device here. The moment the mystery ends, where the ending begins, involves the use of a "she” where we were expecting to read a “he”. Because there are so few women in the story— and every one of them is accounted for at that moment, save one— that single change of pronoun, that single added character is enough to collapse the wave function of the mystery into its only possible remaining solution.

So, all that to say: Maxwell’s Demon is more thoughtful than it is engrossing, but that thoughtfulness— the idea of writing as a literal magic— makes for a fun read.

#books #completion list #todo #review #steven hall #maxwell's demon #mystery #horror #metafiction #the quarantine list

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cringiness-confirmed · 4 years

Text

Seeing Harry Styles in Public

another outcome of my boredom :] requested: nuh uh warnings: fluff and cringe lol author: Abby a/n: another personal imagine because why not summary: Indigo and Abby spot Harry in a cafe... what will happen next?

*gif is not mine*

Abby stirred her frappuccino absentmindedly, her eyes glued to the book she was reading. Indigo was busy typing away on her computer, either the book that she and Abby were writing or the lyrics to another one of her songs. Both girls were too distracted by their work to see a familiar face walk into the café. It wasn’t until the man walked up to the counter that they finally recognized him.

“I’ll take an espresso, please,” the man said. Abby glanced up, instantly noticing the voice. Her eyes wandered around the café until they fell on none other than Harry Styles. Her face flushed red in realization. Once Harry had taken his order and walked back to his table she nudged Indigo.

“Did you see him?”

“See who?” Indigo asked, still focused on her computer.

“Harry Styles! I swear that he just walked past us!”

“Dunno, my song is the only thing I’m worried about now,” she replied, not bothering to look up. “But if you’re so desperate, why don’t you see for yourself?”

Abby feigned hurt. “You know I can’t do that! My face would be as red as a tomato!”

“It already is,” Indigo noted. Abby groaned and rested her head in her hands. “Complain all you want but this is your last chance to finally meet him, so it’s now or never.”

She snapped her fingers and fished out her phone from her purse. Indigo rolled her eyes and went back to her songwriting. Abby pulled up the camera and tried to take a subtle picture, failing to notice that her flash and her ringer were on. With a loud click! and a quick flash of light she was exposed. Harry glanced up and smiled.

“Ya know, if ya wanted a picture ya could’ve just asked me,” he said.

“So much for subtlety.” Abby shot Indigo a look and she grinned innocently. She cupped her hands to create a makeshift microphone and whisper-yelled “She’s a reaaaally big fan!” Abby slapped her playfully and turned back around, blushing.

“It’s true,” she said. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“Not at all, it’s always a pleasure to meet the fans.” Harry walked over to where the two girls were sitting and smiled. “Harry Styles, and who might you be?”

Abby opened her mouth but the words died in her throat. She leaned over to Indigo and whispered, “What’s my name again?” Harry laughed while Indigo facepalmed dramatically.

“This is Abby ‘I Can’t Talk in Front of Celebrities’ Henderson, and I’m her friend Indigo.”

“Nice to meet ya both! I’m assuming you’ll be wanting a picture?”

Abby tried to say something but Indigo cut her off. “Yes, my friend here would love a picture, but first she’d like to have a nice, long, conversation with you. That shouldn’t be too hard, right Abby?”

“Not helping,” she replies. “But yes, I’d be fine with just talking if that’s alright.”

Indigo smirked and said, “Are you both free for about another hour?” Abby and Harry both nodded. “Great, well I’m not, so enjoy your date!” She slammed her computer shut and ran out the door, leaving Harry and Abby both speechless.

Harry shrugged and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, I’m going on a walk, so could ya do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

Harry extended his hand and said, “Could ya hold this for me?”

She gaped at him like he had just grown a second head. “Y-you’re serious?”

“Yep,” he replied, lacing her fingers with his. “I guess you have your friend to thank.”

I nod in agreement, then get a text from her. “Speak of the devil.”

Indigo: Damn, it feels good to be a gangster

Abby: IOU big time

Indigo: I take my cash in Jane Austen books, thank you

#harry styles #one direction x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fluff #fine line #adore you harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #personal imagine #fluff overload #random writing

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magpiemorality · 4 years

Text

Remus vs. His Birthday

Long post is long, keep reading isn’t working sorry all!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, gore, murder, nsfw things; unfriendly Remus (he’s just antagonistic not unsympathetic); Remus being rude about the nsfs tag (not an opinion the author holds).

AO3

***

What exactly was the point, Remus wondered, of a birthday? Was it a celebration of cheating death? A consolation prize for getting through another solar rotation of mundane life? An apology to everyone in your life for existing?

Yeah Remus wasn’t sold. Why would you bother? If it was a celebration why celebrate only once a year, when society told you you could, rather than whenever life was actually worth celebrating? Why not impose yourself on all days, or better yet forget days were a thing at all?

(That last part sounded like Janus when he was on one of his society-is-a-con rants but Remus liked the idea. And the rants. They were pretty fun to listen to.)

Today was, apparently, Remus’ birthday, for all that meant to him. The real issue was that, irritatingly, it meant something to everyone else. And before this year, specifically this year, that would have meant squat. But this damn year it meant plans.

Plans were another thing Remus didn’t see the point of. Why think about future things when you could think about now things and just do them? He was all impulse, by design, and sticking to a plan was incomprehensible and pretty revolting to think about, torture plain and simple for a creature like him.

Remus seethed at the very concept, staring daggers at the envelope that had dropped into his home in the subconscious. Literal daggers, shredding the cheerful mint green paper of it with vicious pleasure, until the daggers were just thudding into the floor underneath and he got distracted playing target practice with various shadows of particularly nasty thoughts that crept through the dark corners down where he lived.

Daggers exhausted and eyes back to normal, he collapsed into the blow up armchair he so adored (mostly because it made brilliant fart-like noises whenever he shifted around) and wondering if plotting went against his moral stance on plans. He felt like plotting. He felt like not celebrating his birthday thank you very much.

Unfortunately the next thing to drop in was much more Thomas-shaped, and it dusted itself off nonchalantly while he considered a return to the dagger-eyes.

“J-anus.”

“Remus. Must we be like that?” Janus asked with his very carefully crafted snobbish distaste. “I come in peace.”

“Wish you’d come in pieces. That would’ve been much more fun,” Remus muttered, and as he blinked at the other side body parts started to drop piece by piece around his intruder. Janus glanced down at the first and hid a delicate shudder, returning his gaze to Remus’ face and steadfastly holding it there. Remus dropped a nose on his shoulder just to spite him. He could appreciate a good pun as well as the next side.

Janus cleared his throat. “We would like to celebrate your birthday. It’s not entirely, ah, a birthday party, per se? But Logan predicts the fans might celebrate for you, and Thomas will naturally be unable not to think of you much. The invitation was more of a heads up.”

“Attention? On moi? I’ll have to dress appropriately. Birthday suit is only right!”

“Remus-”

“What? Don’t approve? It’s not even my birthday, Snake Bell. They’re just something Daddy latched onto to make his dreams of normality come true. Besides, it’s not like anyone wants me front of mind- where worse to have your darkest thoughts after all?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Ah, points. I was thinking about those. I think the more the better-” he grinned, twirling his hand and summoning his morning star into it “-but this has precisely none. I don’t want to celebrate it. No one else wants to celebrate it. Drop it there, or I’ll drop you all one by one off a tall building. Or maybe the plank. Now pirates, there’s a fun aesthetic...”

Clearly the conversation wasn’t going the way Janus wanted because he looked visibly frustrated, pulling his hat off to rake a hand through his hair with a little scowl marring his- well, half of his face. If Remus took a meat-cleaver down the centre of his skull he wouldn’t have matching halves. Ooh, Heathers. Now there was another fun aesthetic. Imagine turning up to the joke of a celebration in a cutesy prep school outfit complete with croquet mallet. Hammer. Thing. Remus wasn’t sure of the name, but it didn’t have any points so meh. Maybe it could be a fun experiment, like the Riverdale Heathers episode, which Remus had only experienced through the triple layer disconnect of Thomas watching it and unwittingly handing it over to Janus to hide down in the subconscious where all the other undesirable memories, experiences and miscellaneous things lived. Like Remus!

But he was losing focus, and Janus was still there. Ugh.

“Just be prepared, alright? It would be highly appreciated if you didn’t just show up and antagonise Thomas on the one day he’s allowing you up front. I know it’s hard but just... ix-nay on the eath-day, ex-say and ore-gay?”

“Ooh, ore-gay, or orgy? Did you mean to say orgy?” Remus grinned sharply and Janus’ remaining composure dribbled away.

He muffled a scream into his gloved hands before glaring once more at Remus. “Just behave. Or I will put you back here, and you will stay here until even the memory of you has faded, understood?”

Remus’ mouth clicked shut and he nodded, eyes narrowed balefully under the scorching threat. “Understood. But next time you feel the need to threaten me with hiding again, maybe don’t do it in my own home, hm?”

“Wha-”

“Bye Felicia.” The sound of Janus’ screech as he was shot upwards by a giant tentacle and shoved back through the ceiling to where he belonged was like music to Remus’ ears. Scream music. Oh, how interesting, what if he took screamo music and put it to actual screams?!

It was such a good idea that he forgot about his ‘birthday’ entirely while focused on his project until the next day, when the tugging started. It was gentle at first, just the odd prod, like a big finger was occasionally checking his responses. Like he was a tiny lab rat in a giant world, and boy did that one hit a little too close to home. Home here being allofhisgreatestfearsatonce.

He didn’t want to answer the call, he really didn’t, but... Remus was curious, and impulse won out as always. Because why not go look? Why not go see? Who cared how it turned out- the fun was in the spontaneity, in the doing.

Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was not what he’d have expected had he expected anything at all. But Thomas standing with a faintly amused smile was what awaited Remus topside, out in the full force of consciousness. It burned, being here, and Remus was reminded once more that in many ways he’d not been imprisoned down below for everyone else’s safety but also his own. Damn the snake for his constant self-preservation. Remus wanted to be mad at him for leaving for once!

“Hi Remus,” Thomas greeted, that same amusement on his tone. And oh, yeah, he’d gone with the Heathers look after all. It was a warm summer day and skirts were nice and breezy, sue him. Remus struck a pose with the croquet... thing, and bared his sharp teeth.

“Did you miss me? Oh you did miss me didn’t you. I can tell! You’re just so curious about me! Well-”

“Settle down,” Logan warned, and oh. Yuck, other sides.

“Yeah why don’t you-” Remus screamed, high pitched and piercing, as his supposed twin’s voice came from right behind him, spinning and swinging and almost catching Roman in the face with the blunt weapon. Only Virgil’s quick reflexes managed to save him, leaping into the way to catch the head of the mallet like a baseball. Now baseball, there was an impulsive and dangerous sport. Why had they never taken up baseball?

Oh that was right...

“Well done Virgil!” Janus smiled. Because the snake said no. And Virgil said no. And when the two of them agreed even Dream Daddy had to comply. Whatever, it was never too late. The croquet mallet turned into a baseball bat as his thoughts flickered, but it was boring and not pointy enough, until he added the nails.

Everyone flinched back slightly, even Thomas, and Remus hefted the weapon onto his shoulder with a proud jut to his chin. Good.

Thomas looked uncertain but he tried again. “Um, that’s cool. Like from the Walking Dead?”

“Just like that! Who volunteers as zombie?!”

“Actually we had something else in mind!” Thomas interjected quickly, turning his phone around to show the screen. “Look, cool art!”

Remus didn’t miss the glance Thomas sent around the other sides for approval, but he was soon distracted by the contents of the screen. He scrolled, and scrolled, and kept scrolling. Huh. This was, actually pretty cool stuff. Plenty of blood, gore, some sexy things. And all not just about him but for him. Interesting.

Also this tumble thing was dreadfully good. He’d have to get one. Endlessly scrolling on a sea of blue was the perfect- aka worst- kind of instant gratification mixed with cybergothic horror that he’d always wanted to explore creatively not that Thomas would let him if he only understood more about it.

Around the room the other sides and Thomas stood, waiting with bated breath to see what might happen. It had been a few minutes of silence, which had Janus’ jaw dropping open and Virgil shifting nervously on his feet. Roman busied himself looking over Remus’ shoulder and trying not to wince at the gross stuff as he appreciated the art himself. Finally it grew too much and Thomas had to know. He had to!

“Is it good? Do you like it? I think there’s a lot of cool stuff there but-”

“Did you know there was an explicit tag specifically for us?” Remus gasped in delight, before frowning. “Jeez, we get our own tag. How prudish are your audience Thomas?”

“And that’s enough of that!” The phone was neatly plucked from Remus’ fingers and tossed over by Roman, shrugging when Remus glared at him. “So what do you think, Remus? They all made that stuff because they wanted to celebrate you. Janus mentioned you don’t like birthdays, but-”

Remus held a hand up to shut him up. “Okay look, it’s not my birthday. But that stuff was pretty cool. Especially the naughty bits. So, uh, thanks I guess. Don’t get used to it but thanks. And now bye! I have zombies to kill. I need to perfect my Hollywood zombie strike for maximum blood spray and noise.” He blew a kiss and vanished in a pop of noxious gas, leaving poor Roman to gag and leap away before it could get on his clothes.

Beneath them (figuratively) in the subconscious, Remus landed on a trampoline that instantly snapped to dump him on the floor with a thump, where he lay, stunned not from the fall but mostly from all the thoughtful and cool tributes to him he’d seen. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad. Maybe the point was to feel a little proud of yourself and who you were, and where you were in life. He was, maybe not entirely but certainly almost, a real functioning side in Thomas’ mind, not reduced to intrusive thoughts from time to time when the barriers wore thin.

Also he had a nail-bat now. And a whole bunch of new ideas from the art he’d seen to try out too... Where to start?

Well, apparently he had a whole year to figure that out.

Masterlist | Buymeacoffee

#writepie #ts remus #ts character thomas #ts janus #ts deceit #all sides #ts sanders sides #ts sanders sides fic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #remus sanders #his birthday!#am I late #maybe

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zkfanworkweek · 4 years

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ZFAW Content Creator Interviews: GrapefruitTwostep

Hey everyone! We hope you’re all excited for ZFAW, and to honor (ha!) ZFAW’s commitment to supporting and celebrating fan content creators in the Zutara fandom, we’re going to be rolling out a series of interviews with well-known and widely-beloved content creators over the next few weeks. We’ve got artists and fanfiction authors, some names you recognize as well as a few phenomenal up-and-coming talents, and we can’t wait for you to meet them all!

For the fifth interview, I’m highlighting a full-fledged fandom legend: @grapefruittwostep! Author of such works as “Modern Love” and “Moonlight and Sunshadow,” you can find GrapefruitTwostep’s works HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrapefruitTwostep/pseuds/GrapefruitTwostep

1. Tell us about how you came to ship Zutara. What does this ship mean to you? The first season of Avatar: The Last Airbender came out when I was about fourteen, so my preferences were already pretty set when it came to the fictional couples I liked (for reference, I was a really big Star Wars fan so Han and Leia were pretty formative to my life). It sounds kind of weird to say, but Zutara really just slotted right into the spot already waiting to accept it, right in the "literal opposites attract, enemies-to-lovers, oh no they bicker all the time please kiss" spot, but that's exactly what happened. A few measly years later, I rewatched the show in college, just after it had ended, and as an adult, I found myself more drawn to the dramatic parallels, the play between two characters who are so old before their time in a way that other characters in the show aren’t. I’ve always loved constructed family tropes, and the “mom friend/dad friend” thing is a real draw to me. So I guess the short answer is because I’m enemies-to-lovers trash. 2. What inspires you to create Zutara fanworks?

As a semi-professional writer, I’ve learned to get my inspiration from media I enjoy in a non-work context: so far, that’s been punk rock, Norwegian folktales, 80’s teen comedies, and Jane Austen novels. I love lots of other stuff too (like Dungeons & Dragons and urban fantasy and superhero comics) so I don’t think I’m ever going to run out of stuff to take inspiration from! 3. Be selfish - if you could request one fanwork based on your own art/fanfic, what would it be? What would you absolutely love to see someone create? I’ve had people send me some pieces of fanart and every time it is a joy and a delight. If I could ask for anything, it would probably be more Suki and Toph. I know! Weird choice! But writing those two is pretty much what I live for — Zutara is almost an afterthought, oops. I like to think “Jock Best Friend Suki” is one of my greatest contributions to this world/fandom and that’s the fanart that would just make my life. 4. Any words for people who are new to the fandom and/or nervous about sharing their work for the first time? I didn’t write my first fanfic until I was twenty-six. I came into this fandom so late and I did so with an incredibly self-indulgent work that I wrote entirely for me. And it went over so much better than I’d ever expected! Zutara fans are super nice. I think we get a crummy reputation from the old days of the shipping wars, but I’ve never actually experienced anything terrible. Everyone I’ve ever interacted with has been incredibly nice and really understanding about my bullshit and the support is amazing. They’re good people and they were super nice to an old lady like me who had no idea what she was doing. 5. What is your favorite Zutara-related thing you’ve made and why is it special to you? I wish I could say I love all my children the same, but Twist Me to the Left is my favorite. My father has this saying about music: “You have your whole life to make your first album, and then you have six months to make the second.” Twist Me to the Left was the reason I got into writing fic and so there’s something special about it for me that none of the other things I’ve written quite have. I feel especially bad saying that because it's not the thing that’s gotten me the most notice, but it’s the thing that’s closest to my heart and includes the most elements that were a personal influence on my life. Also, it’s got metalhead Toph which I find both generally awesome and a great joke. 6. What’s an idea for a fanwork that you have but haven’t gotten around to making?

Well, I just started my Jane Austen influenced fic, which is difficult to write and I think difficult to read (sorry), so that’s taking up my fandom brain right now. But I do really want to do a Much Ado About Noting fic so maybe when I burn myself out trying to sound like my girl Jane, I’ll do that instead. I’ve also been planning a cyberpunk AU but it has a mask aspect that, in the current climate of the world, feels … a little too soon.

7. Are you participating in ZFAW? If so, want to give us a hint as to your plans?

I would like to participate, certainly! (It’s right at the end of NaNoWriMo so I may not be at my best, but I’d really like to participate anyway, let’s see if I can do it without burning myself out.) However! I actually don’t read nearly as much fic as one would expect and so what I would really love are some recommendations! If anyone has art or writing they want me to look at, send that shit right on over to me so I can get some inspiration! I like very slow burns and AUs, but seriously, people, hook me up with whatever you’ve got.

#zfaw #zutara fanworks appreciation week #zutara #Interviews

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dinoyoongi · 4 years

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Confirm or Deny (6) - Final

SYNOPSIS: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader

GENRE: Romance, Angst

WARNINGS: Language, brief mentions of sexual situations

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

AUTHORS NOTE: The ending is here! Thank you so much to everyone who has loved and supported this story! I’m sorry that it took so long to get the ending written but I hope it’s as satisfying for you to read as it was to write! I know a few might be disappointed with it - that’s understandable - I did rewrite this chapter several times and cut out a lot that I had originally planned but ultimately I think I wrote an ending fit for me, Joonie and Sweets. <3

__________________________________

“Y/N?” Your chin snaps up at the sound of your name, eyes wide at the polite, smiling face of the young receptionist at the desk in front of the room. “The director will be ready shortly. He apologizes for the delay and appreciates your patience.”

Exhaling in relief, you bow in understanding, returning her courteous grin quickly before turning your eyes down to the screen in your lap. On your phone, Tom Hanks strides to the stage to the applause of the audience, the camera panning to different nominees in this final, ultimate category. The quick shot of BTS – of Namjoon's nervous but elated grin – makes your heart knock against your chest hard. Tom Hanks prattles for a few seconds about the achievements of the nominees before he's handed a golden envelope.

“And the Grammy for record of the year goes to … BTS!”

You don't realize you're holding your breath until you're on your feet and screaming, lightheaded and breathless from the lack of oxygen. Hand slapping over your mouth to silence your hysteria, you ignore the concerned calls from the receptionist and shakily lower yourself back onto your seat. Though seconds have passed, the group hasn't found their way onto the stage. Instead, they remain in the audience, huddled in the tightest of hug. Not a single one of them has a dry face.

You included.

They did it. Holy shit. They won a Grammy – the biggest Grammy of the night. This would make it their second after picking up the award for best group earlier in the morning. But record of the year … it's the award. And they did it. Namjoon did it.

There's a gentle tapping on your shoulder. When you glance up, you can barely make out the blurred silhouette of the receptionist through the haze of your tears.

“Are you okay? Do I need to call anyone for you?”

“N-no, I'm fine, I-I just-” you stop yourself, eyes falling down to the phone screen. She follows your gaze, mouth opening in understanding when she sees the seven of them on the stage. Her shock is quickly replaced with a warm smile. “I'll be quieter. Sorry.”

She giggles. “Don't worry about it. If you need tissues or anything, come see me at my desk, okay?”

Unable to suppress the elation, you grin as you nod, pushing the pods further into your ear and jamming the volume up button on your phone as loud as it would allow. Namjoon is already speaking and the sound of his voice immediately conjures the waterworks again. He stutters over a few pronunciations and has to pause every so often to wipe his tears, but his speech is beautiful and poignant. The words are straight from his heart, straying from any kind of notes or script that the group might have drafted on the chance that they'd actually win.

“Of course, we love and appreciate our fans – our ARMY – dearly. But we also want to thank everyone behind the scenes – our loved ones who we might have neglected and hurt in our path to get where we are. We hope that you're proud of us and that you'll stay … sweetly … by our side.”

The sobs come easily. Instantly.

Sweetly. He's talking directly to you – his Sweets.

You watch with loud sniffles until their speech is done, until they're carrying themselves off of the stage, until the last musical guest that you honestly couldn't name begins to perform. Your finger pushes at the power button on the side of your phone and when the screen fades to black, the reflection that stares back at you is a haggard mess. Grabbing a few tissues from the nice receptionist and cleaning yourself up before the most important meeting of your life is probably the best idea. But you can't seem to move.

Walking into this building a few minutes ago, you were sure of what you wanted – a fresh start, a new path, all slates wiped clean. Joining P NATION would do that for you. And this was everything that you wanted. It's everything that you've worked for.

But maybe … maybe you want Namjoon just a little bit more. You don't even know if a future with him is something that's feasible, or if it's something that he still wants. What if Big Hit refuses to let the two of you be together? What if P NATION refuses to let you date at all?

Once again you're faced with the possibility that you might have to choose the two things you want most in your entire life – your idol career or Namjoon.

You finally pry your hard stare from the phone. Looking up, there are two doors on either side of the room. One door – the door that you entered in – leads to the lobby, to the exit. The other door leads to the conference room where you'll be meeting with the directors of P NATION.

Your stomach twists, your throat suddenly tightening with the urge to vomit.

“Here,” the receptionist's voice cuts through your anxiety. She pushes a wad of tissues in your direction. When you don't move to accept them, she clicks her tongue in amusement and plops down into the chair next to yours. You're startled when she reaches out with the tissue to dab at your face gently, using the slightest pressure as to not totally destroy your makeup. “You look conflicted. It's not usually something I see from potential trainees … or in your case, idol, I guess? Most if not all of them are excited and confident and anxious to sign a contract. You … you look like you're going to toss your cookies all over the carpet. No offense.”

Despite your inner turmoil, you feel yourself cracking a smile. “None taken.”

“What your company did to you was disgusting,” she says casually, leaning over your lap to toss the tissue in a garbage bin. You blink at her in surprise. Not many people are bold enough to bring the incident – or incidents, because there were quite a few – with Hot Star to your face. “I grew up in the states so the extreme response to a dating report here just baffles me. Seriously. In the west, we want our favorite celebrities to date and be happy and healthy. We actually ship celebrities together. I remember growing up being totally in love with Freddie Prinze Jr – you don't know who that is, do you? She's All That? Scooby-Doo? None of this rings a bell? Okay, it doesn't matter, anyway – he started dating a co-star from one of his movies and I was their biggest cheerleader because I could see how happy he was. And you know what? Those two actors are still married to this day and I'm still rooting for them.”

Her rant is punctuated with a triumphant crossing of her arms as she leans back into her seat. You're confused as you gape at her. What is it that she's trying to tell you? If Hot Star and Big Hit hadn't intervened and the fans hadn't been so crazy, you and Namjoon would have a successful marriage?

She chuckles when she sees your confused expression. “Sorry, I know I'm a bit extra sometimes. My point that I have failed to get to is that … Hot Star has serious karma coming their way. I think you have the potential to do amazing things with your career. And I know from the look on your face that you're two seconds away from bolting but why don't you stick around and at least hear what they have to say?”

Her palm rises to your line of vision, a compact mirror and lip tint sat on top in a peace offering. It only takes you a few long seconds to reach out, hesitantly accepting the items with a gracious bow of your head. You're given one last encouraging grin before she stands up, bows and retreats back to the desk at the front of the room. Lowering the cosmetics into your lap, you exhale a shaky breath and pick up your phone. Though you had deleted his contact from your phone, there was no way that you didn't remember the number by heart.

You let the words flow into your fingertips, jerking your thumb to the send button before you can talk yourself out of it.

“Y/N,” the receptionist calls for you. Her eyes meet yours. “They're ready for you.”

__________________________________

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Jungkook is chanting breathlessly to himself as he grasps Namjoon's arm for support, the group shuffling quickly into the backstage area. The leader wobbles, his legs feeling as if they're made of jelly; all of his limbs feel as if they're suddenly jelly. The only part of him with substantial weight is the shiny, gold gramophone statue clutched tightly in his right hand. There's chaos as they step into the dressing room – managers, stylists and various staff shouting victoriously, some of their faces drenched with happy tears.

After all this time … they did it. The Grammys were something that all k-pop stars only fantasized about and BTS - Namjoon and his brothers – now hold two of them.

It's a feeling that Namjoon can't comprehend. It's a feeling that's too overwhelming for his body. He wants to do everything; wants to cry, he wants to scream, he wants to hug every single person in the room, he wants to tell everybody he knows. He wants …

Oh. His chest dives when your face appears in the back of his mind. This is usually when you're calling him to congratulate him, to tell him how proud you are, to remind him how hard he worked for it, to promise him a more intimate celebration when you get to spend more time together.

From the wild thumping of his heart, it's easy to decide what he wants to do the most.

Ignoring the craziness of the room, Namjoon drops onto the couch. The award is yanked out of his grasp but he lets it go, reaching instead into the pile of cellular devices left on the coffee table to collect his own phone. Booting it up, he's not surprised to see his inbox already flooded with congratulatory messages and voicemails.

However, it's your message that sits right at the very top – two minutes ago – that surprises him the most.

Congratulations, Joonie. I am so proud of you. And when you want me, I'll always be by your side.

He reads the words again. And again. And again. Over and over until the dark font transforms into a blurred silhouette from his tears. One of the members – he can't distinguish who at this point – yanks his limp body into a hug, assuming that their leader is emotional from the fact that they just made history.

That's what he should be emotional about.

But all he can think about is you.

You, who had been with him since he joined Big Hit, who trained with him and grew with him. You, who supported him more than any person on this planet. You, who swore with your entire life that BTS would win Grammys. You knew it was going to happen and he wanted to prove you right.

How can he feel victorious when you're not with him?

Rising to his feet abruptly, Namjoon seeks out his manager. Upon seeing the fierce determination in his gaze, the main wrangler of the seven idols feels his cheerful grin drop. Jerking his head into the direction of the hallway, Namjoon has made up his mind.

The company will be furious; they'll fight it as much as they can. The fans will be devastated and betrayed, some might even boycott. The boys – though they'll support him no matter what – will be understandably concerned. This is a decision that effects everybody and the only person Namjoon cares about, the only person who can make the decision … is you.

__________________________________

“How does everything look?” Mr. Park, also known as freaking Psy, asks politely, leaning in your direction from across the table. Your eyes quickly skim the first few pages of the document again. You're not familiar with a lot of the legal terms and you'd be lying if you didn't admit that there were parts of the contract that sounded slightly confusing. But for the most part – from your experience with your past contracts and your knowledge of the industry – the agreement is great. Way better than anything you ever imagined prior to walking into the building today. “Is there anything you'd like to edit? Any clauses you'd like to negotiate?”

You clear your throat, wishing your nerves would give you a break. “It all looks great, honestly. I'm really thankful for this opportunity.”

Psy frowns. “I sense a but coming.”

“No, no” you assure him with a shaky chuckle. “I'm definitely signing. I'd be crazy not to. This is such a great contract, more than someone like me could have ever hoped for after … you know, all things considered. I just … I do want to request one clause be added.”

Every pair of shoulders at the table straightens up, pens being pressed to paper and fingers set atop of their laptop keyboards at the ready.

“This might sound silly coming from me and it might be a rookie mistake to request this at the contract signing but … I want to be able to date. I want to be given the chance to have a normal, healthy relationship whether it be private or public – and I want to be the one that chooses which. When there's news about me dating, I want you to ask me first and I want you to have my back, to publish what I say and not what you think will get more attention with the media. And you can refuse, you can even add a clause that says I'm not allowed to date but to be honest, even if you tell me no, I'm still going to do it. You can rip up the papers right now if that's what you want to do. I just want to be transparent with you. I've given up so much and I don't want to give up anything more. That's the decision I made for myself before I came through these doors.”

The speech is long and you're winded when you finish, leaning back against the chair with what you hope is a quiet exhale. At the end of the table, there's a light giggling. Before you sat down, you were fully under the impression that you'd be meeting with Hyuna because it was her name on the business card that was handed to you. You knew there would be other people involved but you didn't expect it to be Psy and his entire legal team. For the majority of the meeting, Hyuna stayed silent at her end of the table, only nodding or laughing or frowning when appropriate. She offered you nothing except for polite smiles when your gazes accidentally crossed paths. Admittedly, you were confused about her role in your signing but just having her there – someone who was in your exact shoes but had the guts to actually stand up for her relationship – made a world of difference in how comfortable and confident you were speaking right now.

“I told you,” Hyuna chuckles, pursing her lips cockily and throwing a sly head tilt to Psy. Your nerves intensify as you snap your neck to the man who nods in agreement. “I told you that you should have just added that clause to save some time.”

And just like that, your mic drop moment is gone. You feel yourself trembling as you lower your eyes to the table. They knew you were going to ask for it. They were going to add a clause so that you wouldn't ask for it.

“When you say that you want to be in a relationship, do you mean that you want to be in a relationship with Kim Namjoon of BTS?” Hyuna asks curiously, fingers twirling a pen as if this this meeting wasn't about to be the cause of your impending heart-attack. Namjoon's name being spoken only adds to your panic.

“Does it make a difference if I say yes?” you stutter, your voice small.

“You said you want to be transparent with us. Don't back down now,” she warns. The sound of her pen dropping to the table is like an foghorn directly into your ear canal.

“Okay, yes. I want to be in a relationship with Namjoon,” you admit. Maybe you're just searching for any sign of discomfort in the room but you swear that you hear the hiss of someone taking in a breath. You continue anyway. “I'm not saying concretely that I will be. It's … complicated between us. But I love him more than anything else and if the chance to be with him again presents itself then … yes, I'm going to take it.”

“Okay then,” Psy says, his eyes flitting to a few of the men sat next to him at the table. “Get to work. She can date whoever she wants, whenever she wants and we must consult with her about her personal matters before submitting any statements to the press. Y/N, anything else to add?”

Wait, what?

“Y-you're still signing me? You're … adding the clause?” you ask in disbelief.

Psy's grin is wide as he smiles. “Of course we are. We're signing you because we want your talent, not your freedom.”

“I didn't even have to convince him,” Hyuna chirps. Your eyes are wide and watery as you gape at her with awe. “He was on board the second that I mentioned your name. What has happened to you in your career is … disgraceful. Being kicked out of Big Hit simply for being a woman, being kicked out of Hot Star because your company choose to capitalize on your relationship instead of supporting you. I know you probably think that he's just scooping up jaded k-pop stars but we're not interested in you because we pity your unfortunate background. We're interested because we're in awe of how you keep going. You were at the top of the food chain of trainees at Big Hit and when you were transferred, you had to start all over again and you did it. You debuted. And when this industry kicked you back down to square one, instead of giving up on being an idol like most others would, you took my card and called us to willingly – once again – be the lowest totem on the pole. You've got the whole package – talent, looks and perseverance. You're going places farther than any of those girls in FRNZEE could even fathom and we want to be the ones that help you get there.”

You don't realize that you're out of your seat, that you're stumbling your way in Hyuna's direction until she's in front of you and you're swinging your arms around her neck. She's startled, emitting a soft oomph as she fumbles backward but instead of pushing you away, she pats your shoulder comfortingly.

“Thank you,” you sob into chest. “Thank you so much. You have no idea. I-I just … I don't-”

Gently, she pushes you away, her hand firm on your shoulders as she bends down to meet your eyes directly. With her other hand, she uses her thumb to wipe away what you know are disgustingly hideous mascara tracks. Her smile is blinding as she grins at you encouragingly.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N,” she says warmly. Those words send a trill of warmth down your spine. “Even though it was my suggestion, who you really need to be thanking is our CEO. I have a big mouth and I use it often but he's the one who ultimately makes the decisions.”

You nod, turning to approach Psy. Unlike with Hyuna, you reign in your raging emotions, opting to bow respectfully instead of launching yourself at him. “Thank you, sir. I promise that I'm not going to let you down.”

Rounding back to your side of the table, there's no hesitance when you pick up the pen to sign your name and stamp your seal. The group waits until your pen has been placed back onto the table before they're on their feet and cheering. Their applause for simply signing with you is more encouraging than all of your positive interactions you've ever had with the Hot Star CEO combined. Psy has the super sweet receptionist – who winks in congratulations before she leaves the room – bring in a bottle of champagne and Hyuna insists on snapping a photograph of you with your contract for your future trophy case in their talent room.

You've been in this room for an hour. One hour and it feels as if you've been handed this entire new world wrapped with a shiny promise of a great future.

There's only one thing missing.

__________________________________

ONE MONTH LATER

BREAKING: Y/N officially signs with P NATION!

Months after leaving FRNZEE and Hot Star Entertainment following the dating scandal that led to her being verbally and physically attacked by BTS fans, P NATION – the entertainment company that was founded by former YG artist Psy in 2019 – has announced on social media today that they've officially signed with Y/N! Y/N was ostracized in the k-pop industry after rumors of her dating BTS leader RM were confirmed by Hot Star but denied by Big Hit. Due to backlash, Y/N was ultimately pulled from the group's comeback. The controversy also saw BTS fans attacking the then-FRNZEE vocalist in the KBS parking lot during a Music Bank recording.

We can't wait to see what kind of music Y/N will be releasing under this new label. Stay tuned for more updates!

You roll your eyes, clicking off of the article and back to the influx of incoming messages. It was too much to hope for a quick “congratulations!” article, wasn't it? Scrolling through the messages, you feel slightly overwhelmed but in a good way.

Ji-na: I feel cool because I already knew but still CONGRATS AGAIN BABE! Happy for you!!

You're giggling as you type back a response to her and a few other people before clicking the phone off and setting it down to charge. Your eyes take a long moment to adjust to the dimness of the room compared to the bright lights of your phone screen. Today has been a whirlwind of messages and phone calls and more messages and more phone calls. You just need a break from all devices.

“Y/N?” a voice from the kitchen calls. You heave yourself onto your feet, padding a few steps over to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. Per your contract with P NATION, instead of sticking you in a dorm, you're now living in an apartment building owned by somebody who works for the company. Your building neighbors include Hyuna and Hyojong who actually live on your floor and Jessi who lives a few up. It wasn't super spacious but it was cozy and private and yours. You sigh in exhaustion as you slump onto one of the stools. “Do you want mozzarella on your pasta?”

Elbows resting on the table, your chin propped onto your palms, you nod sleepily, letting your eyes flutter closed. “A lot of it, please.”

You giggle when you feel something press against your lips. Opening your eyes, you're not surprised to see Namjoon mirroring your posture, his lips on yours. He kisses you sweetly for another few seconds before pulling away. “You've had a long day. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Happy. Content. Hungry,” you say pointedly, grinning when his dimples dip from his laughter. “I'm so glad that you're here with me right now.”

“Me too, Sweets,” he says softly, sliding his hand across the table. You remove one from under your chin and meet him halfway, interlocking your fingers immediately. Like always, your heart pummels against your ribcage. It appears that Namjoon is always going to fluster you and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Considering the scale of dramatic that was yours and Namjoon's breakup, you would've thought there would have been some epic reunion consisting of hours of conversation and arguments and agreements that would lead to the reigniting of your relationship but … there wasn't. When he got off of the plane after returning from America, the first place that he went to was yours. In Daejeon. You had been in Seoul for meetings the entire day and because of what happened, your mother wouldn't let him in the house. He waited hours on the porch for you to return – after he had just gotten off a thirteen hour flight – and when you finally walked up that sidewalk to see him dozing on the uncomfortable, rickety wicker chair …. you just knew.

There didn't have to be a spectacular speech or declaration of love – you already knew you loved him and that you wanted to be with him again.

So here you were. Together.

Together – the word makes your chest clench in relief.

You eat your pasta takeout at the kitchen counter, taking turns feeding the different noodles to each other between catch-up conversation. You tell Namjoon about the concept meeting that you had earlier in the day, the meeting that would decide in what direction you want your sound to go. He tells you about the amount of celebrities – specifically ones that have stuck their noses up at the boys in the past – that are flooding Big Hit with collaboration requests following the Grammys. And when you finish up with dinner, you both retire onto the sofa. Namjoon loads Netflix and turns on a random documentary although you both know damn well that you'll only watch it for maybe twenty minutes before your restless hands and yearning lips find another way to keep each other occupied.

Tonight, though, you're surprised when he whips his phone out in front of your face. “We don't have any recent pictures together. Let's take a selfie.”

Your hair is in a messy bun and your face is bare but who are you to deny him anything?

Leaning in, Namjoon presses his lips against your cheek. You smile bashfully, assuming the picture will turn out incredibly sweet, until he uses his free hand to squeeze your cheeks together. Before you can protest, the blinding flash of the camera captures the moment. You massage the skin that was pinched when he releases you, muttering grumpily as he coos over how adorable he thinks the picture is.

“This one will be perfect,” he mumbles to himself before his fingers start moving across the screen keyboard.

You squint in confusion. “Perfect for what?”

He pretends to not hear you but you get your answer only two minutes later. The pings and beeps and notifications on your phone begin to chime rampantly again.

Ji-na: OMG NAMJOON IS TOO CUTE. YOU GUYS ARE TOO CUTE.

Your eyes narrow suspiciously at your boyfriend who lounges next to you, phone in one hand while the other kneads a spot on your ankle where it rests on his lap. “Why does Ji-na think you're too cute? What did you do?”

Namjoon chuckles incredulously. “Wow, that didn't take long at all.”

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering, he presents you with his phone that's loaded to his Weverse account. There's one post from Namjoon, added two minutes ago. The goofy selfie of the two of you with the caption: I've been an idiot – she has always been my Sweets. Congrats, babe.

“Namjoon!” you shriek in alarm, shooting up into a sitting position. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

You gawk at the man as he chuckles calmly, pulling himself off of the sofa as well. Why would he do that? And how can he be so calm? Doesn't he realize that he posted it? Doesn't he realize what he just did?

“I … Joonie, I don't understand. Help me understand. Why did you do that?”

He takes your hand in his, pushing the pad of his fingers into your skin soothingly. “I told myself that if I was lucky enough to be with you again, things would be different. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes I did last time. I don't want us to hide. I don't want us to be a secret. I know that there's going to be backlash from this – especially because of my reaction last time – but I just want to be with you, okay? Is that okay?”

Is it hot in here? You feel like you're melting.

“Joonie, of course it's okay. There aren't going to be any label issues on my end and of course I want nothing more than to be public with you – it's what I've always wanted – but … have you cleared this with Big Hit? With the boys? What's going to happen now?”

He gives you his wide, closed-mouth smile, the one that makes his dimples deep. “What's going to happen is that we're going to be happy. Together. I'm going to own up to my mistakes and take responsibility for not fighting for us the first time around. I'm going to endure the backlash with the boys at my side and … we're going to be Joonie and Sweets no matter what anyone has to say about it. Okay?”

You nod, biting your lip to stop the sudden onslaught of tears. Joonie and Sweets. It's all you've ever wanted.

He sighs. “I know this is going to get us both in a bit of hot water but I'm done hiding.”

Crawling closer to him, you snuggle into his side, sighing in contentedness when his arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

“I'm okay, Joonie. I can take whatever is thrown at us but I just have to confirm one thing for whenever my manager eventually calls,” you tell him. His eyebrow lifts questioningly. “We're both in the relationship this time, right?”

He rolls his eyes once before lunging at you, fingers digging into your sides in merciless tickles.

- T H E E N D -

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ohnobjyx · 4 years

Text

First snowflakes

This is going to be a series of posts about XZ’s situation. I’m going to try and avoid key words, because heavens know that I’ve learned about a lot of sick things that I didn’t know were possible.

This was a result of an ask (here, you’ll find an index there too).

Disclaimer: I’ll try to keep it objective, but asking what society thinks of xz is a difficult question for me, since I don’t live in China. I can only talk about how I view the situation is right now, but I’m biased (please keep this in mind) since I follow mostly xz-friendly accounts and cp fans. I’m also biased by what I perceive of that country, which may be or not an accurate perception. I needed to look for a lot of info to complete the answer to this ask, so I still insist: I may be wrong, and language barrier and cultural differences are to be taken into account here.

(I have many sources for the info that appear in my posts, but the main one is sourced in this post).

And since I think I didn’t make myself clear enough in previous posts: we will see him again. He will work again. These things always take time, but public attention shift quick and swift. However, when he’ll appear in public again is a decision that must be taken by his team and his company, so let’s be patient.

This kind of problem (haters, antis) is something every celebrity will have from time to time, but still, how big this became surprises me. I think there was a concoction of circumstances that allowed this to explode like it has, and really, he just had the worst of lucks in this matter.

So let’s start from the beginning.

2/27

Many will have heard of it, but no one wants to bring it up because it’s best to let these things cool down and disappear. So I’m going to explain what happened, but it’s one of those things I wouldn’t like being asked about. I’m open to discussion, but please make sure you have enough information before entering a discussion about it.

Before reading, keep in mind that all of this happened now 5 months ago, so it’s of no use to cry over spilled milk. Let’s try and learn something from this, so we don’t make the same mistake.

We may not like how the authorities or the fans solved the situation, but I’d ask please don’t judge them, because we weren’t there, and we don’t know how we’d have reacted. It’s easy to judge after things have happened and say “I’d have done it better!” but in fact, we can’t really know if we’d have solved it better.

So, here we go.

On 02/24, a w/ibo user shared a ao3 fanfic about xz and wyb (a fic recommendation). It basically depicted a trans xz and high-schooler wyb falling in love, and it was said to be quite detailed (as in sex scenes). It was also published in Lofter, another big site that published fanfiction. There was also an account that posted fanarts of this fanfic.

Some of XZ’s solo fans were furious, because the fic had more than 700,000 views and the XZ in the fanarts was very feminine. They felt that this kind of content was very damaging to his image and reputation.

(Please remember that they were only a very small fraction out of the millions of people that like XZ, and for writing purposes, I’ll leave them as “accusers”).

These accusers dug up the author’s name, photo, info and study place, asking their school to expel them. They also attacked the fan that had shared the fanfic and reported the work and the websites to the authorities/cyber police (remember this, it’s important). They also reported a video hosting page for b/jyx videos.

(Personal Opinion here: this is a huge example of going overboard).

As a result, suddenly ao3 crashed down. Chinese netizens couldn’t access to the website anymore.

(I don’t think the accusers were the first to report ao3... and I’ve heard of people speculating that the regulation department must have been playing around with the idea of banning it before, and this whole incident just allowed them to do so while having a scapegoat. Personally, I think there was a mixture of this and of something that will be explained in a later post).

Both the user that had shared the fanfic and the author took down every link and related post, and changed their usernames to try to stay low.

The accusers posted victorious comments, but the whole issue enraged cp fans and all of the other ao3 users, that insisted in “literary freedom, the work isn’t to blame here”. It sparked a discussion around the fact that you can dislike other people works, but to chase the creator and the website to this point is crossing a whole other line.

So on 02/27, the public started to discuss around the controversy of XZ fans denouncing the work and the site. It also sparked controversy about works that represented homosexual relationships. The websites with that kind of content that were still allowed in the country started to take down some works (literary creations and videos) and related tags were also banned. Many videos were taken down as a result too.

Accusers’ response was “we’re not wrong, we’d do the same if there’s a next time”. Their attitude further enlarged the flames, and, like this, fanfic authors, original authors, and other fandoms’ fans all got into the huge melee that this had turned into, defending their rights to create works freely. This was called the “2/27 Great Union”: people from all kind of fandoms, bystanders and haters that existed before, all started to criticize XZ’s fans for reporting ao3 and Lofter.

The great majority of XZ’s fans were greatly confused at this point, since the topic with “XZ’s fans reporting ao3” was trending, but most of them weren’t aware of what had happened. Some of them tried to argue about their ignorance but the public attention was elsewhere, so no one paid heed to them.

On 02/28, the topic of “XZ fans reporting ao3” was still on hot search for a while, but it disappeared later even though there was still a large number of people discussing it. This made people think that XZ Studio and his public relationships company were hushing the issue. This furthered the rage of the general public and so the whole anti-XZ movement started to appear (from now on, “antis”).

Let’s be aware of the fact that antis and haters existed before, and they’ll continue to exist. Even if 100 million people like him, there’s bound to be someone who doesn’t. However, the problem here is that people don’t stop at just disliking him: they are very vocal about it, try to convince other people to hate him too, they affect his works and his endorsements… If it was just a matter of popularity, things wouldn’t have gotten to this point, since the number of people who like him it’s still larger by millions.

So this is what happened on that day in February, and the issue has been named since then 2/27.

At the time, they were in the peak of the epidemic, the whole country was on lockdown and fighting the virus, so it meant that there was a lot of people that wouldn’t usually pay so much attention to this issue (there was no real life calling to them 8h minimum a day, so to say) with a lot of free time to surf the internet. And it meant that a lot of people lost an important source of entertainment (I could easily spend a couple hours a day on ao3 myself). People were worried, stressed.

(Antis also accused XZ for taking the attention away from the pandemic. I was like... but the ones diverting the attention are you people?)

While none of this absolve anybody, it sets the situation the average citizen was living in. It was just, all in all, a bad moment and a bad place.

These were just the first snowflakes, and soon, XZ found himself in the middle of a blizzard.

→ Part Two: March

#gg situation #part 1 of 7 #my post

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letitrainathousandflames · 4 years

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ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. You are NOT being rude and you, in fact, just pulled me out of a writer’s block?? I love you so much??? AAAAA???

So this right here is the setting, okay? Think of it as, collecting each part of this lovely lovely trio to then just be worried about finding a big enough bed later okay?

PLEASE BULLY ME INTO CONTINUING IT LATER AS WELL!

Rating: Explicit

Category: Multi | F/M/M/M

Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008)

Relationship: Reader/Rex, Reader/Cody, Reader/Wolffe, Reader/Cody & Wolffe & Rex

Character: CT-7567 | Rex, CT-2224 | Cody, CT-3636 | Wolffe, Reader Character

Additional Tags: clone smut, public sex, exhibitionism kink, slow burn but it’s more like medium rare? bc we want that Meat lmao, interrupted sexytimes bc duty calls, part 1/???, literally just writing as i go, as the saying goes - we’ll fuck on that bridge when we come to it, no beta we die like men

The 79’s may be loud, rowdy and a bit crowded, but it’s where the best eye candy in the republic comes to drink and chill. Bless the Republic for having an entire army of insanely hot men. Each one of the clone troopers is beautiful in their own particular way, and if you could ever stop being a shy disaster and just talk to any of them, maybe you could get to know more about them, have a fun night together and even…

You blow a few bubbles into the straw in your colorful drink, feeling the heat that travels up to your face just at the thought of getting handsy on one of them. Well, a girl can dream, right?

A man dressed in white-and-blue armor walks up to the bar, standing right next to you and speaking loudly to the bartender to make himself heard over the music.

“That neon-green thing, just like the lady’s, whatever this is.” he asks, discreetly pointing at you with his eyes still on the barman and chuckling “The whole deal, even the tiny umbrella; I’m celebrating tonight. No wounded, no dead. All my boys got back home.”

The bartender smiles wide at him, busying themself with the bottles. The clone trooper must have felt your gaze on him, because he turns to you with a small smile that makes you heart jump; moons above, he’s handsome. His hair is buzzed short and is of a light blond shade – unusual for a clone. There’s a blue leather pauldron over his shoulder, and a black kama trimmed with blue hanging from his hips; from what you’ve heard, these meant the clone was a high-rank officer, either an ARC trooper or a Commander. You would be lying if you said that didn’t make him even hotter.

You can tell he must be broad and strong even out of the armor, and you flash your tongue over your lips by reflex. Oh. Oh no, you are crushing hard on this man and you don’t even know his name. The barman sets his order down, the clone picks it up and this is your last chance to say anything before this man turns away with his drink and you never see each other again-

“Cheers!” you blurt out, raising your glass at him

The clone turns around to look at you, looking slightly confused.

“Excuse me?”

“C-Cheers.” You repeat weakily “For your men. You said you were celebrating, right?”

The man smiles wide, and there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself from falling for him now.

“Right. Cheers.” He clinks his glass against yours, takes a sip and hesitates for a moment before continuing “I’m Captain Rex, pleased to meet you. And, uh… what’s your name?”

You introduce yourself and Rex looks at you for a few seconds, mouth opening and closing at first like he’s still considering what he’s going to say. Then…

“Mind if I sit here?” he gestures at the barstool next to yours

“Not at all!” you say, painfully aware of how eager you just sounded; Rex sits down, eyeing his own colorful drink curiously “So… captain. I don’t think I’ve ever met a high rank officer before. Rare sight around here.”

Rex tries a sip from his drink to then look pleasantly surprised, taking another before setting down his glass.

“Probably because we spend most of the time buried in paperwork.”

You spend one of the nicest nights you’ve had in a long time with Rex, talking about the bar, life in coruscant and in the army, funny stories from Rex’s job and yours, and the two of you have a lot of fun trying to pick the drinks with the weirdest colors and hoping they taste good.

By the end of the night you exchange contacts, and from then on you would often meet Rex at the 79’s for some drinks and kissing that would often turn into feeling each other up while making out in a less busy corner of the bar.

One night, the two of you are kissing by the dance floor when commander Cody walks up to the both of you, ignoring the men and women swooning at him along the way and stopping close to the two of you.

“Hey, Cody.” Rex smiles at him to then acknowledge his nod at you, telling him your name and introducing him to you in return “This is Cody, commander of the 212th.”

“Nice to meet you.” you smile back at Cody as the three of you dance absently to the music

You take a few moments to notice the similarities and differences between the two clones. Cody has a large scar branding the left side of his face, and his hair is black, shaped in the standard haircut most clones have, and he doesn’t have the few scattered freckles you had noticed on Rex’s cheeks and nose. But their eyes are of the same golden-brown shade, their lips full and inviting, their hollow cheeks and strong jawlines just perfect.

At one point Cody steals a glance at Rex, smirking, and Rex looks from him to you and back to him for a few beats, wetting his lips and then nodding. Cody slowly moves his hand over to your waist without touching you yet, eyes looking at you as if asking for permission.

You look at Rex with a puzzled look on your face and Rex moves in closer, pressing a kiss to your lips and speaking close to your ear over the loud music. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers prickling all over your shoulder and down your arms.

“My brother wants you, cyare.” He nips at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as he grinds against your thigh “Wants to know if that’s okay with you.”

You turn to look at Cody some more. The man is strikingly handsome just like any other clone, and his frame is that of a commander as well, big and broad and seeming strong enough to snap you like a twig with his bare hands. The hungry look in his eyes… it’s like he wants to eat you whole, his teeth dragging over his lower lip in a playful smirk.

“That’s… very okay with me.” you reply, making sure Cody could read your lips even though you speak with Rex still “But is it okay with you?”

Rex kisses a wet trail down your neck, nipping at a tendon there. His armored chest is pressed against your own, his thigh finding its way between yours, cold plastoid meeting your heated thighs.

“Us clones are used to sharing everything with one another… I’ve never shared anything as precious as you before though. M’not sure I want to.” Rex nips ever so delicately on a tendon, making you whimper softly “Maybe… if you promise you won’t forget that you are mine, I don’t think I’ll mind if you become his as well.”

The words send a warm excitement that settles in your lower stomach, and you reach for Rex’s face, making him look at you in the eyes.

“I don’t think there’s anything in this galaxy that could make me forget that I’m yours, Rex.”

Rex offers you that warm smile that always makes you weak in the knees to then press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Shall we invite him, then?”

You nod with a wide grin and soon you’re holding out your hand, pulling Cody in closer and tilting your head up to kiss him. He smiles into the kiss, and you laugh softly. You then pull back to turn your face to Rex, kissing him in turn. Every time you kiss one of them, the other traces the back of your neck with his fingers and watches you with aching need until you turn and kissed him instead. The three of you are barely dancing at all at that point, just swaying in place and becoming more and more breathless and hot with desire.

Cody is the one to interrupt all the kissing and groping between the three of you, calling you and Rex back to a more secluded spot under a staircase, far from the booming boxes that blasted music and all the merry drunks on the dance floor, so that the three of you could talk some.

Having interrupted the eager touching and kissing from before, the three of you share a moment of awkward silence before Cody sensibly breaks the moment asking about what you work with.

It leads to an interesting conversation where you get to know each other better – turns out that was the famous Marshall Commander Cody, the highest authority in the Clone Army of the Republic, and Rex himself was Captain of the 501st, the troops under the charge of the famous Jedi General Anakin Skywalker.

The two of them were interested in what you told them of your work, regardless of how boring you believe it would sound next to their own. You laugh at their jokes, enjoy their stories and share your own. At some point you start kissing them again between words, and soon enough none of you is speaking anymore, except for a few goading words and hushed hums.

You wind up pressed up between the two of them, and you press each of your palms over their codpieces. The way Rex’s eyes roll back before falling shut is truly something else, and so is the strained grunt from Cody close to your ear. Rex gropes and kneads at your breasts over your shirt and Cody’s gloved hands hike your skirt up some so that he can press his fingers over the heated skin between your thighs. The commander tugs at the edge of your underwear, kissing the side of your neck.

“Can I get this off the way?”

Moons, his voice is hungry with need and you whine a long, pleading ‘yes’ that is met with a dragging of teeth over the crook of your neck while Rex kisses you. Cody’s gloved fingers tease at your slit and you whine against Rex’s mouth. The way he rubs your clit is so good it should be illegal.

Still, you snap your eyes open and glance over Rex’s shoulder to make sure you’re not being seen by anybody. Luckily enough, the dark corner you chose seems to be hidden enough for no one seems to be staring. Being sandwiched between the two muscular men as they have their way with you in a public place is exciting, and it sends shivers down your spine.

Before you know it, you’re rolling your hips to get Cody’s fingers to tease you harder while Rex pinches your nipples between his fingers, squeezing you breasts and sucking hard at the side of your neck, certainly leaving a trail of hickeys there.

Cody picks up his pace, his own hips thrusting to get more of your touch despite the stiff codpiece that stands in the way. Rex sucks your lower lip into his mouth, and Cody’s middle finger presses against your clit over and over, dipping only ever so shallowly inside you to spread some of the moisture collecting in your heated slit over your clit to ease the friction; you giggle just at the thought of the three of you getting caught, the indecency of it all almost sending you over the edge.

You’re about to suggest that the three of you find an actually private place where you can all get rid of your clothes and move more freely when you hear a faint beep and a small square panel on Cody’s arm – the one moving up and down as he fingers you – lights up with a red hue.

“Kriff!” Cody hisses, retreating his fingers with a grimace; he takes a moment to move your underwear back in place and pulls his hand back “Sorry, I have to take this. Give me a moment…”

Cody places his hand on his ear, visibly displeased. Rex holds you close, gently rubbing your arms and giving you soft pecks to your lips.

“…Yeah?” Cody’s voice and posture suddenly shifts as he jerks himself upright, eyes going sharp “General Kenobi. What is it, sir? Yes. I understand, sir. Yessir. I’ll get the boys back in a minute.” He lowers his hand, shooting Rex the same annoyed look from before “They want us back in the base. Something urgent came up.”

Rex sighs between his teeth heavily enough to make a few strands of your hair fly up for a second. You can imagine he had other plans for tonight, probably the same ones you were having yourself.

Cody grimaces, his golden-brown eyes burning at you while Rex takes his side. You shiver at the loss of Rex’s warmth, crossing your arms.

“You have Rex’s number, right?” Cody smirks at you when you nod, licking the slickness over his gloved finger, eyes sharp at you “We’ll finish this on another occasion then…”

He says your name slowly, almost spelling it like he’s savoring it, eyes trailing over your frame like he wants to commit it to memory before departing. Rex takes your free hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

“I’ll call you soon, cyare.”

You mean to ask him what the word means, but instead you just say quietly:

“I’ll be waiting…”

You spend most of the time after that texting them every day, and while they are very sweet, both of them can only get back at you at very late hours, and the reason why they are so busy is classified. Since they’re both such high-ranking troopers you can imagine how serious it must be. So despite feeling bitter about being unable to see them anytime soon, you promise them to wait for a new date.

The dates that come barely count as dates though, rushed meetings at the bar late at night that only amount to some chatting and kissing and little beyond that before they rush back out. Maybe that’s commander-dating for you, these two are most likely the busiest clones in the GAR and you just had to fall hard for them, haven’t you?

When they finally text you saying they will soon be stationed in Coruscant while their Generals sorted out some things with the Jedi Council in two weeks and that you should pick a date for you to actually have dinner together, you have to muffle a scream of sheer giddiness into your pillow before replying that the nearest date possible sounds great.

To the hells with not looking as stars-damned eager as you are. You are damn thirsty for those two, and they better know it by now.

Two weeks later you are sitting alone in a booth at the 79’s second floor, waiting for them to arrive. You can’t help but smile in excitement, curious about the reason why this had been regarded as a special date. This is a nice space, quieter than the dance floor below, and you spot other couples having quiet conversations or simply enjoying the nice atmosphere to sit closer together and kiss.

You run a hand through your hair, fixing the upper half you had tied up in a low ponytail; you’re about to wonder what could be taking so long when they show up, climbing the stairs with smiles on their faces.

Rex and Cody. Your boyfriends. You still cannot understand how you managed to be lucky enough to have all of the three commanders completely in love with you and willing to share you with one another.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Cody strokes the back of your hand as he takes the seat in front of you, leaning to give you a kiss

“Looking prettier than ever.” Rex says softly, taking his seat next to you and kissing you as well

You can feel many eyes turning towards your direction, and you giggle shyly. Yeah, most people were just as smitten as you are over having the attention of the commander and the captain. You look from Cody to Rex with the widest smile on your face.

“I’m so happy you guys called me. I was worried about the two of you. What kept you so busy these days?” Cody and Rex hesitate and you shrug “It’s okay if you can’t tell me. You…wanna talk about something else instead?”

The two clones visibly deflate in relief when you chuckle, and Rex nods.

“Yeah, please. Don’t wanna think any more about work for the day if that’s okay with you…”

He says your name like just doing it makes him happy, and you rest your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling Cody’s thumb stroking your knuckles and staring lovingly at the commander’s eyes. Sometimes you feel like your presence is like a small vacation for them, and it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. It’s a nice feeling, knowing that you make them nearly as happy as they make you.

That is when you notice a clone dressed in white-and-grey commander armor walking up the stairs and stopping for a moment to say hi to another clone nearby. That man looked good enough to eat, big and boad as commanders go, with a large scar over his right eye and a face that said he wasn’t to be messed with. The way he carried himself probably got enemies to surrender on the spot, and right now it’s making you press your thighs together in desire as you straighten yourself up on your sit.

Cody furrowed his brows, turning his head towards the direction you were looking at to then chuckle, turned to you with a broad grin on his face.

“My, my, so you want him as well? You are an insatiable one, cyare.”

“Wha-?” you blurt out, blushing heavily “I didn’t say anything, Cody!”

The man in commander armor had just noticed Cody and Rex sitting with you in the booth and Rex waved at him as he began walking towards you.

“Didn’t have to.” Cody said just low enough not to be heard by the approaching commander “That look on your face says it all. Say, Rex, how about we invite Wolffe into our little relationship, hm?”

Rex glances at Cody to then reach a hand over your thigh under the table, caressing it so gently it pulls a sigh out of your lips. The warmth of his hands can be felt even though his gloves and the fabric of your dress, soothing and enticing all at once.

“Like I said before” Rex looks at your eyes, biting the corner of his lip “I don’t mind sharing, as long as you know you’re mine... ours.” He adds with a pointed look at Cody “All else is up to you, love.”

You are still being pulled in by the possessive look in Rex’s eyes when Wolffe sits down in front of you, placing his hands on the table and lacing his fingers.

“Rex. Cody.” He greets the fellow officers with a nod to then look at you with a small smile “And you are?...”

You introduce yourself with a smile, trying not to let it show on your face how much you’re attracted by that gruff voice and the proud posture of the clone. The three of you order some food and drinks, talking about the time Wolffe had to go on a relief mission and ended up having to find Skywalker’s protocol droid that had gotten lost; Cody’s laughter is contagious as he elbows the commander and say he can “almost see him rolling his eyes at the kriffing thing, vod”.

Wolffe reaches for a handful of chips, nodding at you.

“I’ve seen you and Rex around here before. Are you two... together?”

Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but you wonder if that was a bit of a hopeful tone in the commander’s voice. Maybe he is interested in you as well and want to check with his brothers if it’s okay to hit on you?

The way Rex licks his lips with a quick glance at you and Cody leans back on his sit some to only graze the side of his armored shin along your own makes you shiver, sputtering some.

“I’m- A-actually the three of us are together.”

You make a point to lean closer to Rex while reaching your hand out for Cody to take, and Wolffe’s eyes go from the fingers that Cody laces with yours to the cheek you rest on Rex’s shoulder guard. You are pretty sure you notice him smirk, but on the very next second he is back to his serious self, taking a sip from his glass.

“I see.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. Okay, here goes nothing. You straighten yourself up, leaning closer to Wolffe, eyes locked on his.

“Why’d you ask? You’re interested?”

You try to avoid looking at Cody because his “ooh, you didn’t!” face is bound to end up making you laugh. Wolffe, however, instead of going red or denying just leans forward as well, his gorgeous mismatched eyes staring right back at you.

“Honestly? Yes.” his gaze shifted to Rex for a second “But I’m not about stepping over anyone’s boundaries.”

Okay, that renders you absolutely speechless. The amount of provoking seduction that Cody has seem to be exactly the same amount of blunt honesty and practicality that Wolffe has, and it hits you like a ton of bricks. Rex reaches for a few chips himself, eating calmly while Cody chuckles.

“You won’t, as far as I’m concerned...” Rex says your name, hand moving over to your thigh under the table again “-She wants you. That’s fine by me. We’re all adults, we’re not jealous of each other, and if any of us ever feel uncomfortable about our deal...” he looks at you, eyes gentle and soft “We’ll talk about it, all of us, and work it out.”

“Yeah.” Cody brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles “And as long as we’re all happy, it’s nobody’s business.”

Wolffe looks at you, a small smile softening his features, and he moves his hand close to your free one, tracing your knuckles with his fingers.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

#lemon/#thank u anon #i noticed it before i only thrive in DEMAND #that's why i ask my therapist to constantly ask me to show her my new art #otherwise i don't make it #let's just say i'm a disaster adhd mess and go with that :)#my fics #to post on ao3

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lildevyl · 3 years

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FebuWhump Day 7: Poisoning

The Author becomes the Host

Summary: What was suppose to be a Celebration of his best Seller, the Author winds up being a victim of a Murder Mystery. Using what power he has left, the Author becomes the Host in order to protect his daughter, Nora Weird.

Guest Staring: @weirdmixofweirdness as Nora Weird

*****

(The Cabin)

Bottles were popping, drinks were being poured, and everyone was celebrating all around. He did it! He finally did it! He made it to the top ten Bestsellers List! He couldn’t be prouder! The Author hugged his daughter and lifted her up and spun her around. Then went and hugged his friend Dr. Iplier. He could believe it! After so many failures and none of his books selling well, he was finally able to do it!

The Author would be able to send his daughter to college, pay all of his bills off and he won’t have to worry about possibly selling his cabin. There was just one pending thing that lingered in the back of his head though. The deal he made with Darkiplier, but that’s okay. So, long as he has his daughter, Nora around, Dark can’t have full control of him! He would make sure to never be one of those pawns of Dark’s! The Author wasn’t as powerful as Dark but they were close. The Author never trusted Dark but Dark was the leader of the Iplier Egos, and with so many different Egos (Canon and Fan Made) it’s a good thing someone like Dark took control.

The Author was still a little salty about how their Creator Mark never fleshed out his story any further. But he does understand considering the circumstances of what happened. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on the past, this was the time to celebrate and look forward to the future! The Author wasn’t along anymore. He has a daughter, two good friends, and now he has a very successful career that his daughter can be proud of!

The Author entered the Kitchen of his Cabin to get more drinks and snacks to pass around. But then stopped when he entered.

“Congrats on your victory, Author,” Dark said.

“Thank you,” the Author said.

“I dare say, that you can now full fill your end of the bargain.”

“What are you talking about? You had nothing to do with my success! I finally wrote something that the people like! Granted it’s not my ideal kind of genre but it’s something! I can write for this genre for a bit and then bring out a couple of books for other genres! You had nothing to do with this so I see no obligation to keep to the deal!” The Author shouted.

“Oh contraire Author. I had everything to do with your success. After all, I’m the one with all the connections here. Or did you actually think that you were good enough to make it, without my help?” The Author said nothing. “Now, you need to uphold your end of the bargain. I hate to see something happen to your daughter. After all, she has so potential to be even more powerful, under the right guidance of course.”

“You stay away from my daughter!”

“Oh, I won’t lay a hand on her, Author. So, long as you do as we agreed.” Dark then tossed a file on the Kitchen table.

The Author knew what was in that file. Profiles and backstories of different people, that Dark wanted to be “taken care of.” Used as characters for the Author’s stories. Now that he was writing Psychological Thriller and Horror stories, it would be easy to do whatever he wanted with them. None of them had families, no partners, just roommates and/or work. It would be easy, the Author could just use them as characters and then just discard them when they are no longer valuable to him.

But he couldn’t. He honestly couldn’t. Not anymore. He has a daughter, he has two good friends that he can talk to and hangout with, he has a family now. And if the Author was actually honest with himself. He was no longer that man. He was no longer the sadistic, chaotic, violent man that he once was. He finally has a purpose in life. That void that threatened to consume, wasn’t there anymore. He couldn’t revert to that man, not now, not ever! What would Nora think of him? What would King? What would Dr. Iplier?

The Author looked at the file as if it was a bomb about to go off. Considering what Dark wanted him to do, that was a pretty accurate description.

“Okay, I’ll . . . take a look at it later on tonight.”

“Excellent. I look forward to seeing what you do.” Dark left, leaving the file on the table.

(Later on the Night)

The Author sat at his desk with a bottle of Whiskey and a glass filled with ice. He needed something to numb his damn mind. How can he actually do this? The Author poured himself a good portion of Whiskey and nearly downed it in one gulp. Looking over the file, the Author nearly lost it! What was Dark thinking?! One person was one of Nora’s teachers, although he never liked that teacher. Too old school in their ways of teaching. Another person was one of Nora’s classmates. Nora didn’t really have a problem with them, not directly at least. But the classmate had a big problem with Nora taking their spot of being the “Top Student.” Apparently no one else but them were allowed to be the top student. If anyone else bested them, then they would find something no matter how petty it was, to get that person in trouble to be number one again. Some of the others were pretty much faceless people that he didn’t even know the name of until now.

Taking a deep breath and another swig of Whiskey, the Author contemplated on what his next move would be. Then it happened. The Author felt his insides burning and he couldn’t breathe! Pain, so much pain! He collapsed from his chair and landed with a hard thud on the floor in his office. Nora came rushing in asking what’s wrong?

“Get Dr. Iplier! Tell him he needs to get here yesterday!” The Author screamed in pain.

Nora got on the phone, sobbing to Dr. Iplier, wondering what to do. Dr. Iplier must have told Nora to get something, because the next thing the Author knew. Was Nora, kneeling down to tell him that she would be right back and bolted down the hall crying. But then he showed up.

“I see that you received my gift,” Dark said with a smirk. “I knew that you wouldn’t go through with the bargain. Shame really. But don’t worry, Author. I’ll make sure that your daughter is well taken care of.” Dark disappeared from the Author’s Office.

The next thing that the Author knew was hearing his daughter Nora screaming at Dark to get away from her. The sound of a slap echoed through the hall and Dark’s booming voice. Telling Nora that she needs to respect her elders and needs to learn her place. Especially since it was her that killed her own father! Then silence.

The Author couldn’t let Dark get away with this. He didn't know where Dark took his daughter, what Dark’s plan was. But he won’t be part of it! Taking his pen, the Author wrote on his own arm.

The Author will use the last of powers to come back as a stronger character! The Author will come back just as strong as Darkiplier! The Author will come back and will protect his daughter! Protect Nora! Protect Nora at all costs!

The Author stopped moving. He couldn’t breathe anymore. His vision darkened to nothing but blackness. He felt the fading process. His body was becoming ash and the invisible wind that nobody feels, began to blow the ash away. Revealing not an empty spot where the Author once laid. But brand new body. A brand new character where the Author once was.

The Author was no more. Now, the Author is the Host.

*****

Tagging: @weirdmixofweirdness, @dezzydynamite, @m4delin, @juju-on-that-yeet, @septic-dr-schneep, @febuwhump, @10ths-writing-corner, @10th-no-name-person, @lamiasluck, @lostcybertronian

#febuwhumpday7 #febuwhump day 7 #poisoning #tw poisoning #tw spiked drink #tw murder #whump #febuehump #weirdmixofweirdeness #markiplier #the author #the host #darkiplier #writersofmark

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smilexcaptainx · 4 years

Photo

C H A P T E R F O U R

Summary: In which a man who is looking for love crosses paths with a woman who despises it, or at least she tries to convince herself to.

Word Count: 1.3K

Tag list status: Open

Do you want to be on the Opening Up taglist? ASK HERE

Authors Note: Here is chapter four! I hope you enjoy!

Opening Up Masterlist

Acting was something you were literally born into. From your father being the heartthrob in his time to your mother showing up on the movie screen everywhere. It wasn't long until you were introduced to acting and you loved it. The fact that you were able to land roles with big stars and befriend the most kindest people you've ever met. But having the past that you've had, you found that acting as Chris's wife to be the hardest role you've ever played. Especially after he showed you the place that he was going to pursue the proposal.

It was the most expensive, costly and fancy place that you've ever seen. It wasn't your first time there though. You've been there before and went through the same exact situation you were going to go through with Chris tonight. The only difference? It was Chris proposing. Tonight was the only thing on your mind throughout the entire day. You couldn't focus as well as you normally did, and the director instantly noticed that.

He even pulled you aside to double check if his star was doing alright, and you reassured him that you were. Not only the director, but Chris knew that you were acting off. Chris followed you around the set all day, constantly checking with you if you were really up to the event that was going to happen tonight. You had to keep telling him that you were going to be fine, and that you were going to be better tonight. The day ended and you headed home with no other words to be spoken to with Chris.

Chris instead texted you later that night to inform you the time he was going to pick you up. You told him that you were just going to meet him there. You couldn't bare the thought of driving there with him in the car. For all you knew, you probably would throw up out of the window if you arrived there with him. Chris respected your wishes and told you to meet him at the restaurant around eight o'clock at night. Ten minutes away, you could already feel yourself beginning to second guess the entire circumstance.

You couldn't let Chris down. He was the only person who actually treated you like a person. Someone who treated you like the human being that you were. To the others, all you were to them was a star. You were the money maker. The celebrity. You hated that word, mainly because that was the only person people would refer you to as. Not your name, but a celebrity. You had to admit, you knew what you were getting yourself into, but you just didn't expect the amount of fame you currently had.

It was obvious from the beginning that Chris wanted to get to know you, and you knew you were being stubborn about the whole thing. But after the fact that he stood up for you and kept your protected from the fans really meant something to you. It showed you that he really did want to keep you safe. He really got to know you as the person you were from that time in the bakery.

You were already a half hour late from debating with yourself whether you really wanted to go through with tonight or not. Constant calls and texts from Chris but you responded to none. You finally just made up your mind and decided to go with it. You needed to face it. You needed to move on.

"You can do this [Y/N]," you told yourself confidentially, gripping tighter onto the steering wheel. "just don't think about the scene that happened last time there."

You take a deep breath as you kept your eyes on the road. The problem was that now that you mentioned it, it happened to be the only thing you could think about. Before you knew it, you were at the restaurant. The glowing lights shining brightly and perfectly draped across the building. It was just as perfect as you remembered it was. It was as if you were proposed to just yesterday, even though you knew it was last year when it happened. You were a totally different person last year.

You park your car beside the red truck and climb out of your car. The weather was on your side tonight. It wasn't freezing but it wasn't hot either, it was the perfect temperature. You lock your car and keep your head low as you quietly made your way into the restaurant, silently praying that you wouldn't get noticed.

"Hey [Y/N]," you hear the familiar voice call out. You look over your shoulder and gape at your handsomely dressed co-star approaching you with a friendly smile. "I thought for a second there you were going to stand me up."

"Chris, I'm so sorry, I just got caught up in my thoughts and—"

"It's alright [Y/N], don't worry about it," chris reassured, gently holding your hand. "you're here now, and that's all that matters. I would have waited all night for you if I had to."

Your face began to heat up from those words and you remove your gaze from his. Was he really flirting with you? Or was it just to make it seem more believable that you two were actually a thing? You didn't care either way. You needed to snap into your persona of the girlfriend who was about to be unknowingly proposed to. Chris held your hand and you two walked into the restaurant hand in hand. You couldn't stop sneaking glances over toward Chris. He looked really nice tonight. It certainly made you feel under dressed.

Chris disconnected from you for a bit and walked up to the waiter at the front desk. Chris told the man that you and him were there for the reservation. Chris went back to connect his hand with yours as the man retrieved the menus and led you two to the table of two. All the of memories flooded through your mind as you walked through the all-to-familiar area toward your table. You looked to the side to look at Chris, only to find yourself hallucinating the image of the man who took you here last. His brown hair lightly greased, his side profile looking sharp as ever.

He turned to face you, his charming steel blue eyes piercing into yours. You blinked and instantly his face disappeared and returned back to Chris's face who was glaring at you in worry.

"Are you alright [Y/N]?" chris asked softly. "You do know where we are, right?"

You lightly chuckle at his little joke as he smiled sweetly back. Your eyes fall to the ground as you continue your direction with him. You remain quiet as the waiter finally arrived at the table. Chris thanked him as he put down the menus and rushed off. Chris lets go of your hand and pulled out your seat for you to sit in. You sit down and he scooted you in. He walked to the other side while you adjusted your position.

"Are you ready for this [Y/N]?" chris asked curiously as he scooted in underneath the table. "I've got the ring locked and loaded," he explained, slowly reaching into his inside coat pocket. "I'm ready to go, are you?"

"I...I guess."

Chris froze and released his grip from the velvet cased ring box. He sighed and stared at you sternly. You avoid his gaze and stare blankly at a random spot on the table.

"Alright [Y/N], we really don't need to do this if you don't want to," chris urged hesitantly. "I don't like seeing you like this. What's going on with you? You seemed perfectly fine about this this morning."

"I have to use the restroom," you blurted, quickly scooting out from the table. "I-I'll be quick."

You shoot up from your seat and briskly walk away from the table, tears quickly forming within your eyes. Chris sighed in despair and ran his hand down his beard as he anxiously watched you practically runaway from him. If time was what you needed, Chris was more than willing to wait.

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

Opening Up Taglist:

@shikshinkwon , @kelbabyblue , @icanfeelastormbrewing , @katiew1973 , @heyiamthatbitch , @straightforwardly , @gemgemswift , @iguessweallcrazyithinktho , @denisemarieangelina , @patzammit

if your name is not present, that is simply because your privacy settings are turned off and Tumblr will not let allow me to tag you.

!! Tell me what you think about this chapter !!

#fanfiction #fanfic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #captain america #chris evans x actress!reader #opening up #opening up chapter four #my writing

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just-a-spark · 4 years

Text

The Before, and The After Part 1

A Knives Out Story

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Language, sexual content (This chapter is tame, but in the future)

Summery: A wealthy classmate of Meg’s becomes close to the family- a little too close to the playboy grandson of Harlan Thrombey. The events before, and after, Harlan Thrombey’s death.

Elizabeth Stevens fidgeted in her chair as Detective Elliott stood across from her, whispering with an officer named Trooper Wagner. She pulled her thick red hair over her shoulder, and the soft waves cascaded over her like a river of blood. She had the deep color of red that looked almost unnatural against her pale, freckled skin. Her lips were painted the same color of her locks, and the pout she sported emphasized how plump they looked.

“Excuse me?” She raised her hand to get the men’s attention, “Are you two going to question me or not? I have places I need to be.”

Trooper Wagner faced her and smiled weakly, and the woman tried to shrink back into her chair at the attention, “I’m so sorry ma’am. We’ll get started in a moment. Where do you need to be exactly?”

Elizabeth paled a little, not expecting him to ask her about her personal life, “Uh, I have a doctor’s appointment.” She rested her left hand on her stomach, her massive diamond shimmering in the fluorescent lights of the police station.

Elliott pulled out the chair across from her, and she cringed as its legs scraped against the floor, “Well, why don’t we get started then. Your husband is Phillip Stevens, correct? His father is in charge of the Thrombey Estate.” Elliott read from a file and Elizabeth nodded, “I’m assuming that is how you have come to know the Thrombey clan so well?”

“Well...” Elizabeth trailed off and looked to the back wall. She swallowed and took a deep breath, but as the memories started flooding back she smiled, “Not exactly.” Elliott smirked at her and she crossed one muscular leg over the other and leaned back in her chair, “The Thrombeys are the reason I met my husband, not the other way around.”

“Mrs. Stevens, are you aware of the reasoning behind your visit with us today?” Trooper Wagner asked from the back wall.

Elizabeth inhaled deeply and took a drink of her water, “Harlan Thrombey committed suicide a few days ago. I’m guessing you want to question me about it?”

“Your father-in-law suggested it. He said you and Harlan were close.” Detective Elliot pressed and Elizabeth bit her bottom lip nervously. Elliott and Wagner shared a confused glance, then Elliott turned back to Elizabeth, “Perhaps he was wrong?”

“No.” Elizabeth said quietly, finally looking the detective in the eye, “I knew Harlan very well. I knew all of them very well.”

“Knew? Or know?” Wagner clarified.

Elizabeth shifted in her chair, twisting her mouth to the side and looking down, “My relationship with Harlan was strained in the end, that rippled down to the rest of the family. Harlan was the center of their universe, without him, they’ll self destruct.”

Three Years Earlier

Meg Thrombey drove down the dirt road toward her grandfather’s mansion a little too fast, but they were running late for her family’s Harvest Fest picnic, and her Aunt Linda wouldn’t be pleased about it.

“Listen, you aren’t ready for my family, but I appreciate you keeping me company.” Meg laughed as her “Big Sister” from Amherst College pulled her Jimmy Choo heels off the dash.

“It’s fine. I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” Elizabeth Reynolds chuckled, looking out the window at the beautiful woods. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Just wait until you see it. His house is so creepy, but you’re gonna love it.” Meg promised as they pulled up to a metal gate. After waiting a moment, the groundskeeper let Meg in and she continued on her way, looking at her watch and swearing under her breath, “We were supposed to be here an hour ago. My family takes these stupid holiday celebrations way too seriously.”

“It’ll be fine. Better late than never. I’ll charm them by being my starstruck self.” Elizabeth bat her eyelashes at Meg and the younger girl rolled her eyes. “Of all the little sisters I could get for my last year, I can’t believe I got my favorite author’s granddaughter. What are the odds?”

“You picked me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe I saw the last name and took a chance. I was curious.” Meg looked over at the stunning redhead and she added, “I think it turned out rather well, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Meg grumbled, but Elizabeth just beamed as they approached a massive dark house.

“Holy shit.” Elizabeth mumbled as she leaned forward to get a better look. “It looks like something out of one of his books.”

“Just wait until you see the inside. I bet he’d give you the whole tour if you asked him. None of us really give a shit.”

Elizabeth feigned surprise, but she knew Meg wasn’t interested in the source of her family’s wealth. If her relatives were the slightest bit like she had described, Elizabeth deduced they wouldn’t be interested in Harlan’s books either.

Meg parked her car behind a slew of other chic vehicles, and Elizabeth let out a wolf whistle, “Damn, is your whole family successful?”

“No, my grandfather just gives everyone money.” Meg deadpanned, turning the key and pulling it from the ignition before tossing it into her bag. “Aunt Linda owns her own real estate company, Uncle Walt runs Grandpa’s publishing company.”

“So they are also super successful. Got it. Your idea of unsuccessful is not making ten million in royalties every year.” Elizabeth teased, fluffing out her thick bangs. “So what do I need to know before I go in?”

“Uncle Walt is intense, Uncle Richard is sleazy, my cousin Jacob is probably going to kill someone someday, but it’s okay, because he’s white and upper middle class.” Elizabeth snorted, then covered her mouth, knowing it wasn’t funny. Meg took a deep breath and continued, “My grandfather is going to be your best friend, and his nurse Marta is basically family. Aunt Linda is rigid but Aunt Donna doesn’t have a personality, so they kind of balance out. You might see my Great Nana, but she doesn’t talk, so don’t worry about her. And you know my mom of course.”

“Yes, love Joni.” Elizabeth hummed through her smile, “Is that everyone?”

“Everyone who’s going to show up.” Meg retorted, pushing open her door, then looking over her shoulder, “If it gets to be too much, say you need to use the bathroom. Text me and I’ll come rescue you.”

Elizabeth pushed open her own door and swung out, looking over the roof and calling, “I think I’ll be okay. I’m an adult.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Meg sing-songed as she led Elizabeth up to the front door. As she pushed it open she called loudly, “Hey, sorry we’re late!”

“About damn time you showed up!” A man’s voice called from farther in the mansion.

“That would be Walt.” Meg mumbled as a mousy looking man with a cane came around the corner. Meg gave a short wave and walked toward him, casually gesturing to her friend, “This is Lizzie. She’s my Big Sister from college. She’s a big fan of Grandpa’s books.”

“Is that so?” Walt asked as he looked Elizabeth up and down with a grin, “Well I run the publishing company. We’re hoping to bring the books to the big screen in the next couple of years. You’d like that, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. As long as they were done well. There’s nothing worse than a bad book to movie transition.” Elizabeth looked over her shoulder uncomfortably as she saw Meg’s mother walk into the room, “Oh, hi Joni!”

“Hiii Lizzie, how are you, honey?” Joni slurred as she wrapped the girl in an awkward, one armed hug. She held out her wine glass to the side and swayed a little as she pulled away, “I’m so glad you could join us today! Come on, let me introduce you to everyone-”

“That’s really not necessary Mom, I’m sure she doesn’t need to- okay.” Meg was ignored and Joni steered Lizzie toward Harlan’s study, where the author was speaking with his eldest daughter.

Lizzie’s eyes widened a little when Harlan Thrombey, the Harlan Thrombey, looked up at her with a smile. Joni shoved Lizzie forward, and the redhead was suddenly very aware that Meg hadn’t joined her, “Hi Dad, this is Lizzie, she’s Meg’s friend from Amherst. She’s part of the Big Sister program for the underclassmen.”

“Nice to meet you Lizzie.” Harlan said as he reached out and shook her hand, “This is my daughter, Linda, and my new nurse, Marta.” He gestured to a small Latina woman who waved shyly from the chair she was sitting in, filling a syringe with medicine for the older man.

“Dad, Lizzie is such a huge fan of your books. I’m sure she’d love to chat with you about them. She just couldn’t stop gushing about you when I met her during Welcome Weekend.” Joni giggled until she drowned herself out by downing her wine, “I’m going to get a refill. Linda, you want anything? Lizzie? Dad?”

“No, I think we’re fine. Thank you.” Linda said sharply with a tight lipped smile. She tilted her head to study the pale girl, but didn’t say anything for a long moment before asking, “Are you old enough to drink?”

“I’m twenty three.” Lizzie answered softly, playing with the ends of her hair and waiting to see if the white-haired businesswoman would interrogate her further.

Linda stared up at her from her spot perched on the desk, and her smile grew a little, “What do you study?”

“Writing. I’d like to be author someday.”

Linda turned to Harlan with a knowing smile, but his smirk didn’t change, “We still have some time before lunch is ready. I’ll leave you two to talk then.” Linda stood and left Harlan’s study, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Would you like me to leave as well, Mr. Thrombey?” The nurse asked, but Harlan just shook his head and squished his face, disapproving of her suggestion.

“Call me Harlan, Marta, we’ve talked about this. And no, you can stay, she can stay, right, Lizzie?”

“Of course, I- yeah, I’m just really honored to meet you!” Lizzie gushed as she took a seat across from Harlan, “I’m such a huge fan! The Needle Game is what made me want to go into writing... the twist in the end, where the body had been stored in the luggage compartment right below them the whole time. Your writing was beyond brilliant.”

Harlan chuckled as Marta smiled softly, carefully inserting the needle into the man’s lower arm. “Well, I appreciate that, Lizzie. What do you consider my weakest work?”

“Excuse me?” She asked abruptly, turning back to Harlan after studying the wooden figurines emerging from his study walls. Her mouth hung open for a moment, unsure of how to respond, “I think they are all wonderful...”

“But I want to know which one you think is the weakest.” Harlan challenged and Lizzie huffed, drawing her brows in frustration. Harlan just smiled and leaned his arm on his desk to get closer to her, “I want your honest opinion, as a fan, because an author is only as good as his worst work.”

“If I had to choose, and I hate that you’re making me,” Lizzie looked past Harlan out his study window at the sprawling grounds beyond, “I guess I’d say Nick of Time. I didn’t feel it was realistic. The writing was great, but the plot was contrived. I don’t believe Maggie would kill Nick in the end, after everything they went through.”

“But she wasn’t happy.” Harlan argued, holding the young woman’s gaze, “You would have written her as a martyr?”

“Yes.” Lizzie answered boldly, her smile growing, “I think it would have made the ending more devastating. That she murdered her in-laws but in the end she was still trapped.”

Harlan nodded thoughtfully, taking her opinion to heart, “Interesting. That’s why I asked.”

“I have a lot of thoughts. I wrote a lot of book reports.” Lizzie retorted, looking to Marta as the woman stood to leave the room, “I should probably head back out. Meg’s going to wonder where I’ve gone.”

“Go explore the house. I’ll give you a proper tour later in the day.” Harlan promised and Lizzie took that as her cue to leave.

When she opened the door, she practically walked into a brick wall of a man: tall, dark, and terribly handsome with an ugly scowl painted across his perfect face.

“Who the hell are you?” He snapped as he shrugged out of his jacket and handed it off to Lizzie, “Take care of this for me, will you?”

“I don’t work here.” Lizzie stammered, completely in shock as the man shoved past her. Her shock turned to anger and she dropped the brown trench coat on the floor. “I’m not your maid.”

Lizzie turned on her Jimmy Choo heels and stormed off to find Meg down the hall with her family. “Hey, how did it- what happened?” Meg asked frantically as Lizzie huffed and simmered, looking back over her shoulder.

“Tall, dark hair, huge ass- jerk.” Lizzie caught herself and Joni swallowed down another glass of wine, raising it in recognition.

“Asshole honey, you met Ransom. He’s an asshole.”

“Sweetheart, what did he say to you?” Linda questioned, suddenly a hundred times softer than she’d been before.

Lizzie groaned, feeling the color drain from her face at all the attention she was receiving, “It’s fine, really. He just didn’t realize I was a guest.”

“Ransom!” Linda yelled and another blonde woman that Lizzie hadn’t met yet shrunk into the corner as Joni poured herself another glass. Linda looked to a man Lizzie guessed was her husband and whispered something in his ear before yelling again, “Ransom!”

“What?” He screamed back as he stormed into the room, holding his coat over his arm until his eyes fell on Lizzie. His scowl turned to a wicked grin and he scoffed, “Oh I’m sorry? Did I offend you? Here, let me pretend like I care.” Ransom strode toward Lizzie and she stood her ground, keeping her mouth shut as he stopped inches from her, staring down his sharp nose at her freckled face. He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then dropped it and handed her his coat. “Now, can you take care of this for me? I’m going to get a drink.”

Linda and Richard chastised the man as he swept out of the room toward the kitchen while Joni yelled at the couple for raising such a terrible son. A frazzled woman in her forties scurried up to Lizzie and took Ransom’s jacket without a word, but Lizzie barely noticed.

She wasn’t sure if she was more confused or conflicted. She wanted to steer clear of that horrible man, but, part of her wanted to understand what made him tick.

#knives out #knives out fanfic #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x ofc #knives out fanfiction

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