#i gave up and like recorded it and put bell sounds from online over it

[cpyclopse]

Exactly 1(one) person wanted this and as we all know thats enough for me.

Heres my attempt at drawing Jester Ghirahim.

I tried to take inspo and bits and pieces from all his outfits.

I also made a little video!!!

So yeah my 🤡 JesterHim⚜️

#yall can thank @ cursedandoutforblood for this #uhhh if someone who likes character design or whatever wants to draw jesterhim they should totally do it #idk i feel like it looks like ghirahim but it doesn't *look like* ghirahim ya feel??? maybe its only me and i just hate everything i make #when i tell you i SCOURED the house looking for bells it was like a good hour of looking through cabinets and closets and my entire room- #multiple times to find anything #i gave up and like recorded it and put bell sounds from online over it #also the ghirahim bust i did was actually made on this page i just copied it and put it on its own thing #ghirahim #skyward sword #loz #jester #jester ghirahim #mosss art #cpys art

[ybangtannies]

Hiii💜💜💜i just want to start off by saying i love your blog, your stories are really good. I just got through reading the bts profiles and i don't know if you are taking request but if you are i was wondering if you could do a scenario where yandere namjoon and y/n are best friends and one night he comes over and they end up doing it, but the next morning they just joke around because it was a mistake and they are good friends, then two weeks later she calls him tells him she is pregnant, and namjoon try to talk to her about keeping the baby because he secretly love y/n and is crazy about her.

[Here it is! I'm sorry it took me months to write this, but I hope you enjoy it! I got a little carried away and it's way longer than what I intended to be lol]

Masterlist

Word count: 2.7k

Namjoon’s eyes open wide suddenly, and frantically starts looking for your figure, and even though he doesn’t find it, he knows you’re around and awake because he can hear the shower from your en suite bathroom. He lets out a sigh and savours the memories coming to him from last night, your moans and whimpers, how good he felt being completely embraced by you and your scent; every single detail about last night and you both enjoying and pleasuring each other is engraved in Namjoon’s mind.

He knows you usually take around fifteen or twenty minutes in the shower, so he relaxes on the bed and starts thinking. What does this mean for your relationship? It surely changes everything, right? This must mean that you love him too. He knows you used to sleep around -much to his dismay, he still doesn’t understand how he put up with it, maybe because it was just sex with strangers and you made it pretty clear you wanted nothing with them- but it’s been a long time since that and if you decided you wanted Namjoon, your best friend, someone you clearly know and have already a bond formed with, to be the person you had sex with after such a long period of time, then there must be a reason behind it. Maybe you weren’t sure on how to tell him you love him too for fear of being rejected and thought sex would be the way to let him know without words? Namjoon smiles at the thought, his sweet and pretty girl, if only you knew how crazy in love he is about you. He’s been waiting for this to happen for way too long, have imagined it millions of times but reality surely does exceed fiction and now that he got a taste of what it would be really like to be with you like this, he doesn’t think he’d be able to give up this feeling for anything in the world; there’s no way, he would be insane to turn down his other half.

His stream of consciousness is cut off by the door of your bathroom opening and your figure emerging from it, you stand on the threshold and look at him with surprise.

“Oh, good morning! I didn’t think you’d be awake already, it’s pretty early and you always sleep until it’s almost lunchtime” you chuckle while entering the room, going to lift up the blind and open the window a little.

Namjoon is looking at you in awe, you’re not wearing anything he hasn’t seen on you before -a shirt and some worn out shorts- but he can perfectly see the hickeys he gave you last night on your neck since you’re wearing your hair on a side plait plus you’re still yawning even if it’s been surely more than half an hour since you woke up and adding that to the fact that now he is your boyfriend... he wonders if you’d be up for round two before having breakfast.

“Hello? Earth to Namjoon! Are you sleeping with your eyes open again or what?” Your voice is once again bringing him back to reality, your glance focused on your phone rather than on him.

“No, no, sorry, I guess I’m still a little tired. What’s up?”

You roll your eyes playfully while looking back at him, “I was asking if you wanted to have breakfast now, but you can keep sleeping if you want, I have things to do anyways.”

Namjoon accepts your offer and accompanies you to the kitchen to make breakfast; he loves how he knows his way around your apartment and how domestic it feels waking up together after having been making love all night to have breakfast and spend the morning at home, like a long-term couple.

He is about to open his mouth and address the elephant in the room once you’re both seated at your table and drinking coffee when you beat him to it.

“So, I don’t want to make things weird after last night and I don’t really think this need to be said since we’ve been friends for quite some time now and already know each other and where we stand,” Namjoon doesn’t like where this seems to be going, “the sex was really good and I think we both needed it after the stress from college but -and don’t get me wrong please- I don’t think it’s a good idea to make it something common, you know?”

Nope, Namjoon is hating this. He is quite lost, what is happening right here? What do you mean you don’t want to have sex with him anymore? Are you already breaking up with him? And what do you mean by ‘making things weird’ and ‘we’ve been friends’? What the fuck are you even talking about? Is he still sleeping? Is this one of his nightmares? That must be it, a nightmare, the worst he’s had so far.

You must sense his confusion because you chuckle a little and even blush; Namjoon wants to smile at the sight, you just look way too cute, but your words have him very confused right now.

“The sex was good, really! Amazing even, Joonie! All I’m saying is that we both know each other too much to have a friends-with-benefits relationship without fucking it up -no pun intended by the way” you laugh again lightly while sipping from your mug and grabbing a toast from the plate in between you both.

Namjoon is really thrown back by your behaviour but as much as he’d like to talk back and confess how ardently he loves you, he realises maybe now is not the right time; he is already sure about his feelings for you and what he wants but you don’t seem to be on the same page just yet and he, being the gentleman he like to think he is, will of course give you some time to figure out your feelings for him. Because of course you must be in love with him too, but maybe you’re more stubborn than he thought you to be and preferred to think your feelings for him were only of lust and not love. It’s okay, you’ll come to your senses and if not, he’ll help you find the right way to his side.

“Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about it, y/n. I know what you mean.”

Days goes by, then weeks and before Namjoon realises it’s been almost a month since that beautiful and extraordinary night he revives almost every day in the solitude of his room. It’s during one of those moments when he is remembering the way your voice sounded asking him for more, to please don’t stop thrusting into your tight and velvety walls and he is about to climax, saying your name like a mantra, that his phone starts vibrating making him jump on his bed and let out a groan, who the fuck? He is tempted to ignore it, too occupied with his hard and leaking cock on his hand to bother with answering the annoying prick that is calling him right in this moment, but then he takes a glance of your name on the screen and it’s physically impossible for him to ignore you. Namjoon sighs and tries to even his breathing and even covers his naked body with the sheet of his bed even though it’s just a regular call.

“Hello, babe, what’s up?”

“Namjoon,” uh oh, you’re using his full name plus your tone is way too plain, this cannot be good, “are you busy right now?”

He looks down at his now less hard cock and shakes his head slowly, “not at all, why? Do you need something?”

“Could you please come over?” Namjoon is already out of his bed and looking for his underwear and clothes, he doesn’t need for you to give him more details about wanting him to go to your house, but he still asks.

“Sure thing, but is something the matter? You sound serious”

A silence follows his question and Namjoon stops his movements altogether, looking straight to the wall with a frown adorning his face, “y/n? Is everything okay?”

“Just… please, come quickly, okay? I need to tell you something.”

He is about to interrogate you a little more or even ask if he needs to bring you something, but you don’t give him time and hang up just as you finish speaking. He looks at his phone with a deeper frown now and hurries up out of his house and into his car.

Namjoon arrives in record time, he’s been thinking about what could have possibly happened for you to be that dry on the phone; yesterday evening when he last saw you everything was okay, and even this morning you sent him an audio telling him how excited you were because the books you bought online finally arrived and were going to start reading them. So, what happened?

You open the door as soon as he rings the bell and without any words, sign for him to come inside. Namjoon observes your attire: sweatpants, a Superman t-shirt and your part of your hair is on a cute little bun, you look adorable and if it weren’t for the frown on your face and your apparent inability to look him in the eye, Namjoon would be cooing internally at you.

“What is happening, y/n? You’re making me worried,” he is now sitting next to you on the sofa in the little living room of your apartment.

You sigh for what seems to be the tenth time since Namjoon got here and start fidgeting with your fingers, “I don’t know how this happened… well, I know how it happened, but I don’t know how we both could be so irresponsible…”

“What happened? What did we do?” Namjoon is more nervous with each passing second, several scenarios running through his mind.

“I’m pregnant”, you guess the best way to tell him is by just doing it at once, to rip off the band aid.

A few moments of silence follow after your words, nothing can be heard, and it feels as if the world has completely stopped. You look at him cautiously and find Namjoon looking at you with wide eyes, opening and closing his mouth like he was a fish. The image is funny, cute even, and you would have laughed have it not been a moment like this.

“What?” It’s the only thing that Namjoon manages to say, he’s not sure he heard you right and doesn’t want to get his hopes up like he did before, just in case.

You mumble a little ‘wait here’ and leave the room, in the direction of your bedroom. Before he can decide if he should follow you or not, you’re back with several sticks on your hands. Your face doesn’t show the same worrisome it did when Namjoon first got here but the frown is still present, and he has to physically restrain himself from softening it and give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Here, these are the pregnancy tests. I went out this morning to get them, they’re all positive. I’m three weeks pregnant, Namjoon.”

He takes them and indeed, they all show two lines, one of them even stating what you just said: 3 weeks pregnant.

“This… this is…” Namjoon is trying to find the words to describe how he’s feeling right now; he wants to cry, to scream, to jump, but overall, he wants to hug you and kiss you silly. He is going to be a dad! And you’re the one carrying his children! He could marry you on the stop. Actually, he should start looking for rings and think about a proposal. Would you prefer to wait until you give birth? Or maybe you’d like to do it quickly before your tummy starts showing. Either way, Namjoon doesn’t mind, that’s your decision to make.

“I know it’s not ideal, don’t worry. I’m going to start looking for abortion clinics today, I want to get rid of it as soon as possible. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, I think we should both pay it since, you know, we both did it.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing, ‘abortion clinics’, ‘get rid of it’?

“We’re not gonna keep it. I’m not gonna have it, Namjoon.”

You are both standing now in the middle of your living room, looking at each other, both with a surprised look in your eyes albeit for very different reasons.

“Why not? I want to be a dad; I want to keep the baby.”

“What? Since when you want to be a father?”

“Since always?” Namjoon is trying not to raise his voice and keep his cool, he doesn’t want to upset himself more than he already is and doesn’t want to upset you either, that wouldn’t do your children any good.

You scoff and roll your eyes at his answer, “you don’t have time for that. You barely have time to eat with how busy you are with college; how do you plan on making time for a baby? You surely won’t drop college; how would you find a job then? Look, if you don’t want to pay for it that’s okay, I can afford it, it’s no biggie”

“It’s not about the money, y/n. I don’t want you to abort our baby because I want to have it with you. I’ll make time for it, we have nine months to figure it out, okay? We’ll both see how we can manage it. Maybe next year I can take fewer classes at college, and you could stop your studies for a year until the baby is old enough to leave them in a nursery without too many problems. Let’s just focus on celebrating and making an appointment with your doctor, darling, don’t worry too much” Namjoon is making his way to hug you and finally kiss you, but you take a few steps back looking at him with wide eyes, as if what he has been saying is insane.

“What the fuck? What the fuck am I supposed to be celebrating? I don’t want to be a mother; you know that I’ve told you several times before. Once I get a fucking abortion it’s when I’ll be celebrating. Look, I’m sorry if you want to be a father right now, but I don’t and I’m not gonna do it.”

Namjoon is starting to get angrier with the moment, he doesn’t understand why you have to be so stubborn. Surely, you’ve told him before about your reticence towards being a mother and how you’d rather abort if you were to ever get pregnant, but he always thought you were saying that referring to carrying the children of another person, not his.

“There’s no need for that, baby, if you just…”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Namjoon! My word is final: I’m having an abortion whether you like it or not. Now leave, please”

That’s it.

He snaps.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re not fucking getting an abortion, and that’s final. Do you understand? You’re gonna carry my children and this is just going to be the first of many to come so you better get used to the idea, is that clear, baby? I gave you enough time to fucking figure out your feelings for me, but this is way too much, I’m not gonna let you murder our children just because you are way too stubborn to realise, you’re in love with me. Now stop fucking talking nonsense before I made you myself.”

With each word that abandoned Namjoon’s mouth he got closer and closer to you until he had you trapped against the wall. You’re looking at him with horror in your eyes and his chest is heaving. He raises his hand, and you flinch and close your eyes, a yelp escaping from your mouth, but the hit never comes. Instead, you feel his fingers on your stomach softly while his other hand goes after your neck in order to bring you closer to his body.

“We’ll be okay, baby. I get that you’re nervous, but we’ll figure everything out and be the best parents to our children.” His words are disturbing, but what scares you the most is the smile on his face and how his eyes are shining with excitement and utter happiness, as if just a moment ago he wasn’t screaming and threatening you. Namjoon is finally able to give you a kiss on the forehead and you can’t do anything but stay still and feel tears falling down your face.

#yandere namjoon #yandere bts #yandere jin #yandere yoongi #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere hoseok #yandere jhope #yandere suga #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere au

[sunflowers-and-mooncakes]

To Dream of an Angel

Part 2 of Dreams of Birds and Angels a series of two one shots written for @pawsitivelymiraculous for the Maribat Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange hosted by @eat0crow!

Ao3

Part 1 can be found here

***

Damian Al Ghul knew only the bare minimum about soulmates. He had been taught by his instructors in the League that they were a phenomenon that no one quite understood. To the members, they were a hindrance and should be terminated promptly. In respect to their targets, they were used as leverage to get information.

After the young boy turned 8 years of age, he dreamt of her. A small girl with wide blue eyes who would draw dresses in bright colors. The next night, his mother would explain in hushed tones what soulmates really meant. A soulmate is someone who is meant to compliment you perfectly, and once you met them you would never want to let them go. She would whisper to him about the man who helped create him, and how desperately she wished he had been the angel meant just for her.

Angel, he thought with a humorless laugh, what a fine name for the soulmate of the Heir to the Demon.

Every night when Damian would close his eyes, he would be greeted with the sight of his blue-eyed Angel. He would watch as she played with her friends. He would laugh in amusement as she spilled flour all over herself while working in a bakery. He would frown when she was pushed around by a blonde-haired bully.

The girl puzzled the young heir greatly. She was a bizarre sort; always smiling even when being knocked around. No matter how much abuse she took from that blonde trollop, his soulmate was always kind to others and give everything she could to help them, all the while asking nothing in return. It frustrated him to see someone so wholly selfless. Didn’t she know that she would be better off trying to profit from her interactions with others?

At the age of 10, Damian’s life rapidly changed. No longer was he revered as the Heir to the League of Assassins. Now, he was in his father’s home, fighting against his father’s wards for attention, and being told to relearn everything he had ever known to be true. It was frustrating, being so out of his element, but the longer he was Damian Wayne instead of Damian Al Ghul. He realized how skewed his world had once been.

While his mother had tried to soulmates explain differently from the Leagues teachings, he had always seen her words as foolish. It seemed futile to him, her longing for something she couldn’t have. However, living in Wayne Manor also allowed the now ex-assassin to see a different side of soulmates. Grayson would often talk about his dreams of his mate Starfire with a dopey grin on his face. Similarly, Drake would mention in passing how his dreams started at an older age due to the elder Superboy having not been created yet.

It was strange, living in a house of people who weren’t constantly ready to fight him. His new siblings were perplexing. Grayson was always trying to rope him into some strange “bonding” activity. With Todd’s return came his aggressive attitude, yet occasional helpfulness. Drake was usually passed out somewhere or so full of caffeine he couldn’t even hold a proper conversation. Cain was the most tolerable, having shared similar experiences and understanding the importance of silence.

The biggest influence on his new lifestyle, however, was Alfred Pennyworth.  His dedication and care for the family was to be admired. The Englishmen had a way with words and always knew just what to say to help Damian through his many sour moods. Most importantly, the butler’s selfless love for his charges helped the young Wayne to understand his soulmate’s behaviors.

As his world changed, so did his dreams of her. He would see her take her drawing from paper and bring them to life with fabric. He would look on as she made new friends. As well as enemies. If Damian had been able to, he would have fought that sly fox himself, but the smug smile on his face when Angel put her in her place.

What was most jarring to see, was her fighting villains in a red and black spotted suit. Magic had never been something he took kindly to; it having more than once put his and his family’s lives in danger. After watching countless battles in his visions, and later finding recordings of them online after much research. He could only conclude that the nature of her powers and villains were indeed magic.

It didn’t take Damian long to figure out that his soulmate was the Parisian heroine Ladybug. However, this still did not allow him to meet her. At the very beginning of her tenure, Ladybug and the government of Paris had barred all Justice League access to the city, keeping him from getting there using the cover of Robin.

His next plan was to go to Paris as a civilian. However, he could find no way under his family’s constant hovering to get there. He couldn’t use the private jet without getting caught, and him buying a plane ticket would be immediately suspicious. The last thing he wanted was for his family to find out about his blue-eyed soulmate and get involved. While he had come to care for them more than he ever imagined, in some manners they were simple too overbearing for him to deal with.

So, Damian, rather begrudgingly, chose to let fate take its course. After much thought, he realized that his Angel may not even want to meet him. She had spent the early years of their bond watching him act as a bloodthirsty killer. She was most likely appalled. Who would want a soulmate like him anyway?

Now 18, the black-haired boy spent most of his days the same. He would take Titus for walks in the park, help his father and Drake at Wayne Enterprises, and fight back the crime of Gotham in the dead of night.

Damian was on one such walk when Titus suddenly pulled his leash out of the boy’s grasp. The dog went racing down the path and out of sight with a loud bark.

“Titus!” he called, jogging forward to see the Great Dane stopped in front of a woman who had bent down to pet him.

“I apologize, miss,” he said, coming forward and lowering himself to be at the same level as Titus and her. He put his hand on the dog’s head to pet him as well, bumping the woman’s hand slightly.

“He usually doesn’t go running off towards strangers…” he looked from the dog to the woman and trailed off. His eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat. He tried hard to control his reaction. Now that he was up close, he recognized that face. It was the face of his Angel.

The woman, noticing his change in demeanor, looked up at him. When their eyes met, her expression quickly turned to surprise as well. Looking at her now. the blurry image of her that he had known before began to fill in.

He had always been attracted to his mate. Once he had assumed it was simply because the strange magic of soulmates dictated it so. But now, seeing her face to face, she was more beautiful than he had ever imagined. She had a small button-shaped nose. Her blue-black hair that had once been pulled into cute little pigtails was now in one long braid over her shoulder. What drew his attention most was her big round bluebell eyes that were so kind, yet held mysteries that even he, who had seen much of her life from afar, didn’t have the answers to.

Damian looked down at his dog who seemed quite smug, almost like he knew who he had brought his owner to. It was then that he noticed the marks. On the back of their hands flew a ladybug being followed by a red-breasted robin.

“Miss?” he called, looking back up at her.

“Yes?” she replied. He would never admit it, but his heart melted a bit at the sound of her voice like tinkling bells.

As they made eye contact once again, he made a small gesture towards where their hands sat atop Titus’ head. He swore her eyes couldn’t get any wider as she looked from the marks back up to him. “It appears we are soulmates,” he said plainly as he stood up from the ground, doing his best to appear less shaken than he was. She stood as well. “It appears so,” She gave him a nervous smile and held her hand out to him. “I’m Marinette,”

The boy hesitated for a moment, having a hard time believing the situation he found himself in was real and not a fantasy.

After a moment he took her hand and shook it. “My name is Damian,”

“Well, Damian,” she smiled brightly at him. “would you like to go on a walk and get to know each other?”

He gave her a soft look back. “I certainly would.”

#Maribat #daminette #maridami #soulmarks #soulmate au #soulmate marks #soulmate dreams #Valentine's Day fic exchange #background relationships

[gloombeauty]

This chick is so insecure. The muse reference started with Jeremy Scott video with Karen Elson who blew her out of the water with style and substance. This side chick can’t stop harassing online and she is so insecure to use Jack for a singing career. She hides behind a garage band fantasy that does not exist. She is a stylist and online PR coordinator for his social media sites. Jack avoided any acknowledgment of cheating and underage dating.

He avoided it in the press and media, but online? After what, 12 years? The discussion that Jack allegedly cheated on his ex-wife Karen with a teenage fan girl is very much alive. Even more now after he admitted on his upholstery page that Olivia is his girlfriend. It cements the cheating rumor. This burns because he had Olivia play back up guitar for Karen's debut album and live touring band. He formed The Black Belles around Olivia. He gave Olivia a solo record contract despite flopping in The Black Belles. Her solo records flop. Her concerts reviews are flops. Her streaming numbers are abysmal.

I would be humiliated with Olivia's streaming numbers compare to other female TMR artists.

Courtney Love is one of the most hated women in the industry and even she has bigger streaming numbers then Olivia.

Yoko Ono, who's also very hated and sounds like a fucking banshee when she opens her mouth, has bigger streaming numbers then Olivia.

If greatly hated women like Courtney can bring in the streaming numbers, I don't know why Olivia can’t. I don’t know what else to say. 

Jack's dick made a very bad decision giving that girl a record contract.

Allegedly of course.

Karen has been a muse to many legendary fashion designers over the years. From Anna Sui to Alexander McQueen. Olivia can’t compare. Not even with Boarding House Reach or the weird ass ceiling designs Jack puts in his studio. Nope. 

#ask #olivia jean #listen to your ears not your dick jackie boy

[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Toshiya Interview 「PHY」Vol.17 Translation  1/2

He talks about the negative parts in human beings that the world has no choice but to look straight at. Also, he talks about his own melancholy. “The places, the time, and the people I cherish are not eternal, rather, they can be destroyed in an instant…. that resignation…no…I wonder if there is an awakening about that”

Note before reading: This is the first part of Toshiya’s interview in  「PHY」Vol.17 released last 19th. This part covers half of the interview.  You can already read the second part here. You can get the magazine at Cdjapan if you live out of Japan. Please buy and support it if you can. Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :) ----- It was the kind of interview that made me believe in them forever. DIR EN GREY's first digital single, 'Ochita koto no aru sora ', it’s a song like a warning bell that appeals to live without looking away from this restraining reality, as well as the desire to bet on a band of five members.  Of course, there,the feelings of how each member feels about Corona are included there. In this solo interview with Toshiya (Bass), he talked about the melancholic feelings he is having facing the current situation of the world. In his own words, he feels sometimes hesitant to say his own thoughts, the conflict, the indecision, but at the same time, he revealed the reason why a strongly man like him felt the necessity to be in this band. Text by: Higuchi Yasuyuki Photos by: Sasahara Kiyoaki Hair&Make-up : Yamaguchi Atsushi “Putting their problems aside, we have lived mediocrely. Then, facing this situation, we are unable to compete. But that's the negative part that we have been facing for a long time” -The other day, I was allowed to hold an event at a certain place. T: Thank you.  You were really helpful. -It's been a while since I witnessed the scene of the 5 of you reunited together. Your presence in the dressing room at that time, felt like a person who was really at home. T: What do you mean? (laughs) Well, I haven’t been meeting  people. -It’s a time that it’s stimulating (meeting people)… T: It’s scary, isn’t it? If you get infected, you will affect those around you, moreover, if you get someone else infected…..you think about those things after all. -Staying all time at home made you feel depressed? T: Not really. Basically, because in the first place, my life is the same as when we are doing our underground activities. -The other members believed the same (laughs) T: So, it wasn’t depressing. These activities were rather normal or even plain. Well, if I had to say something that was different than usual…. thanks to having more time than usual (the single), it was completed very smoothly. -It seems like that. T: Originally, we were planning to record while touring but the postponement of the tour gave me some time and it was very smooth. -Are you always on a tough schedule? T: It’s already rough. And at the very end I always feel like I’m compressing everything so in that sense, it was every easy to do (the single) this time. -If you had made it between tours as planned, wouldn't the single have a different style?

T: There is a possibility. However, I don't think it would be completely different…. I don’t really know. -That's right. Personally, when I listened to this song, I thought about how you would perceive the current situation as a band that can’t see what lies ahead. It’s a song with a lot of power and energy, are you worried about the future of the band? T: I see. About what your personal thoughts…. I think this band will be fine as long as the members are living, like, the band will continue on as long as the members are alive. It might be an extreme reasoning but that's what I think myself. Regardless of the Corona and what will happen after it. -Because you don’t  think that just because of this situation…. T: Yes. Because I think Dir en grey is consisted by these 5 people. Well, until now, I used to say it with words in interviews and so, but maybe recently I really came to think that. -It could be. T: In the past, being honest….when I was thinking about the band….of course I know I'm a person that would be in a band but I thought that there was no reason why it had to be these five people. -That way of thinking its not only limited to you, that’s a thing you think when you are young. T: It’s not only related to bands but also to human relationships. For example, let’s say that you insult someone on the internet. Of course, there might be a reason behind why that person got insulted but rather than insulting them, don’t say anything. You accumulate those things inside (the attacks/insults) and eventually that person will….like….* *He is is making a subtle reference to the recent news of Hana Kimura’s suicide after being harassed online. -There was this sad incident…. T: The places, the time, and the people I cherish are not eternal. A word that has no meaning at that time, the words of someone who doesn't understand the true meaning of what they are saying. With a single word that dances around with collective complicity, important things can be broken in a instant. That resignation…no… if you don’t have that awakening, that you don’t need to insult someone or do just as you please…. -Do you think you are the type of person that lets those things accumulate  in yourself? T: How should it be? But I want to cherish where I am, I know that this position is only possible with these five people, so I sometimes I don’t express my thoughts, but it’s like that for all  human beings, right? - When you started the band, you were more self-assertive but you had to change that in order to be able to continue in this band. T: That's right. After all, I'm basically a very selfish person (laughs), so I feel like I'm going to destroy the place I'm in if I'm a selfish person like I was in the past. Isn’t that scary? - You have that kind of trait rooted in yourself. T: When I was a kid, I was always selfish and selfish, for example, even if I played soccer with my friends, if I had the ball, I would go to the score goal myself. I didn’t pass it  to anyone (laughs) -But team playing is an important thing in sports…. T: I had no spirit of cooperation. I was often told that by my parents. Like “As you are not cooperative, you’re better off doing things alone than doing it with others”. -And such a person has been in the same band for over 20 years (laughs) T: That's right. That's why I feel that the band has given me spirit of cooperation with others. If not, I would still be running to the score the goal with the ball (laughs). -But that kind of person is doing the bass in a band called Dir en grey, so I think it’s a perfect balance. T: Is that so? - The members in charge of bass and drums tend to be less self-assertive and more cooperative than vocals and guitars. I think that's probably because rhythm is related to the fundamental base of music and it’s created by the instrument that play it. T: In the past, that was the impression, right? About the bass. Like being a step back from everyone and playing silently. -But you are not that type of bassist. In the first place, each of you asserts themselves on stage. T: I agree. I mean, I've never though that "because I was  the bassist I had to take a step back" (laughs) -That’s what DIR EN GREY is. I thought that it must be hard for the band to have a bassist with such a strong presence when I saw the current shooting. T: What it’s hard? -I meant that the individuality of each one of you collides violently. You can’t take pictures like these with 5 people, right? T: That's right. In a good way, it's also the band's mood. That's why I've been playing in this band with a mysterious sense of balance. I'm not going to take a step back, and while I have a desire to go forward, I'm also conscious of not going too far. “I feel that the band has given me spirit of cooperation with others. If not, I would still be running to the score the goal with the ball (laughs).” - You said that you have acquired that kind of balance in this band. T: That’s what I think. And that doesn’t apply just to me, but also to the other four members. Like, everyone is looking properly at others, not only themselves. It’s the same at lives, and of course what you want them to see it’s your playing but what I really  want them to see the most is the sight of these five people standing there. That’s what the image of a cool band might be and on top of that, each of us can shine in their own way. - As I said earlier, I think you are really a strong person. And I think that's something that all the members of this band have in common. T: That might be true. - So, your personalities collide violently, and that friction is what creates your sound. However, on the other hand, there are some moments in which you have negative thoughts, or you are not confident in yourself. T: That's right. After all, I don't have self-confidence. - Especially in your case, I feel that you often make statements like that in interviews. T: Is that so?......mmmm…..I wonder why….but it’s like... I think that saying that kind of things doesn’t matter in some cases?.... -What do you mean with ��it doesn’t matter”? T: Well, like  they ask “are you confident?”  and you are, but saying those things openly/loudly isn’t something that is bothering? I think it's only me who knows in what I am confident and in what aspects I am not. But then, do you know yourself well? If you ask me, I don’t know the answer at all. In short, you probably shouldn’t believe the words you are told. -You don’t believe in those words? T: Yes. Everything is a lie or a false image. Words, including lies and truths are mysterious. After all I believe it’s like that. Also, I think of myself as just a shallow/miserable person. Next part

#dir en grey #toshiya #phy vol 17 #phy magazine #translation #toshiyatranslations

[chemiste]

Voicemail. ~part 2~

a/n : you want it? go get it! heres the second part to voicemail!! I’m thinking a 3rd and final part for this??? if y’all want it tell me! ALSO I’ve linked what the reader is wearing and maybe what others are too so if you see a link thats what it is. also wanted to say thank you so much for the support on this one shot!! i would put those big eye emojis but im typing on a laptop and i dont think O.O is the same....

first part!!!! go read

mah masterlist

“Next on the red carpet is singer/song writer Y/N L/N, wow look at that beautiful dress!! This year at the Grammys she is up for 3 awards, Song of the Year, Best Dance Recording, and Best Solo Pop Artist!” 

The interviewer exclaimed excitedly from her podium along side the paparazzi wall. It had been a week since the songs were let out for the world and so there was definitely an electricity in the air at the awards ceremony.

“All you fans are probably watching for the most anticipated performances of tonight! Harry Styles will be singing one of his new songs from his album FineLine! Twitter is going ballistic from the recently leaked songs about is break up with L/N, we all know the cameras will be on her tonight whenever he’s mentioned! Oh look, here she comes now!”

You walked over in your beautiful award dress, safe to say you were the best dress star there. Your hair was done up and the red long dress seemed to flow around you effortlessly as you walked. 

“Hello Diane, it’s lovely to see you again.” 

You said in a polite voice, smiling to her and the camera, she handed you an extra mic, ready to drown you with questions.

“I’m going to cut to the chase— did you listen to the songs?”

Wow, this lady’s cut throat I’ll give her that.

“Oh yes! I’ve listened to all the albums nominated this year and I’m so excited.”

“Oh I was talking about—“

“I’m so incredibly grateful for the nominations, I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this album and I’m glad the fans love it as much as I do.”

You could see the Diane deflate a little, understanding you’d keep dodging questions about Harry until it was over so she moved on. 

“Yes, you’re nominated for Best Dance Recording, the music video for your song Clouds was crazy! How long did it take you to figure out how to dance while flying?!” 

You laughed, thinking back to the many rehearsals of choreography on the ground and then being connected to cables and hoisted into the air to perform it. 

“A girl never tells her secrets,” you said with a wink. 

“Well speaking of flying in a music video, I know one performance tonight will be—“

Cheers and hysteric screaming filled the fan area as someone came on to the carpet. 

“Is that? Oh look, Harry Styles enters the stage in a—, my goodness! You and him are matching!”

You couldn’t believe it.

Harry was decked out in a full red suit, hair beautifully fluffed and glimmering in the light. He had red heels that looked like Dorthy’s slippers.

And he had the faintest amount of red lipstick on, making him look like an ethereal being in red.

“Wow, we really are matching.” 

You mumbled to yourself, half forgetting you were being filmed. 

You turned back to the camera the moment you remembered, making your face emotionless so hopefully the interviewer wouldn’t pick up on your thoughts at the moment. 

You quickly thanked her and slipped off into the sea of celebrities, hearing his voice ‘hello love! So happy you could come’ to the fans hoping he would give them a signature.

You entered the award room, looking for your assigned seat. Luckily you were strangely one of the only people in there aside from a few techies working on the stage lights.

“Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, Billie Elish, Kahild… Harry….” 

You gasped, basically scoffing at what you saw next. 

“Y/N L/N? Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

You started to breathe a little faster, “Oh god, I don’t think I can do a whole ceremony next to him, after the whole thing online… and not responding to his texts.”

It’s true, when he had texted you that morning, it took you 5 hours and a shot of tequila to actually open his messages.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Hey… I don’t know if you’ve gotten a call from one of your PR people yet but, I just wanted you to know I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I don’t wish to put you through anymore than what I already have…

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

Um, but uh, if you’ve listened to the songs, just know that I really do mean the words I sang. I wish we could have, uh talked, but I understand I’m not in any position to ask for that. Just, there were a few others songs that didn’t get leaked, and uh, I’d like you to have them. You don’t have to listen to them but, it would mean a lot to me if you did.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

“Mrs. Styles.”M4A. Click to open.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

“I Should Have Fought.”M4A. Click to open.

Bastard (wasn’t allowed to block, fuck PR)

“I’m Sorry.”M4A. Click to open.

You didn’t listen to them, like the others. 

You just… couldn’t. 

It had taken you so long to get over him and grind it into your head that you didn’t do anything wrong, he did. 

Your PR team decided the best thing to do was acted like nothing had happened because if you didn’t give a response the public would have nothing to go off of, so here you were, looking at one of the scheming ideas from someone on the Award Team to see if they’d be the first to get some action between the two of you.

“Fuck that.” 

You said to yourself, looking around to make sure no one was looking, you snatched your name paper and walked about 15 seats over and changed with Lana Del Ray. 

Because you were all in the front row, you couldn’t get farther than that, but this would have to do. You quickly put Lana’s paper in your previous seat and walked out of the room, escaping the ‘crime scene’.

At least I’m sitting next to Shawn now.

You and Shawn had gotten to be friends around a year ago when you bumped into him at the recording studio and....maybe spilled your marshmallow milkshake down his shirt.

“I’m so fuckin sorry! Oh god please don’t sue me for this, or worst, tell your fans!!” 

You rambled, padding him off with the napkins from your fast food bag. You looked up at the tall Canadian in front of you that just had a smile on his face.

 “Hey don’t worry about it, uh, I’m Shawn but I guess you already knew that.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been listening to your music for a while its fantastic, I’m—“ 

“Y/N L/N, America’s Favorite Child and Feminist thats not faired to fuck you up?” 

You grinned, “Oh you saw that video?” 

He laughed, “Hell ya I did, You punching that old misogynist groping that girl on the street is one of the videos saved on my phone!”

After that day, you both caught on like a house on fire since you seemed to be in the studio at the same time, it was great having someone to throw ideas around with at 3am when everyone else had left the studio.

“Y/N! Girl! I haven’t seen you in forever!” 

You looked up from the corner of the red carpet you had been hiding standing in. Hailee Steinfeld made her way over to you in a black dress that hugged her perfectly. 

You let out a sigh of relief, you gave her a big hug, breathing in her sweet perfume. 

“Hailee you’re a life savor, I feel so out of it here.” 

She gave you a soft look, “Cause he’s here right?”

You clinched your jaw, “And we’re fucking matching! How did that even happen? It’s literally the same shade of my dress and everything! There are so many shades his team could have chose but they went with that one! And the lipstick! He’s basically a devil personified! But he’s got style!”

You quietly rambled to your fellow singer, she squeezed your hand when the bell chimed telling everyone it was time to enter. 

“Y/N, before we go in I wanted to ask if you had listened to the songs.” 

“Uh, no… I… I couldn’t hear his voice staying those things to me so I just read the lyrics.” 

Hailee gave your bare shoulder a squeeze, “Well, I don’t want to play devil’s advocate,” you smiled at her little quip, “but I did, and what’s not in the lyrics just written is the emotion you could hear in his voice. During Drunk Thoughts, theres a part that people are speculating he’s crying while recording, trying force sing it out and, it’s just, I think it’s time you spoke to him.”

Hailee was one of your most trusted friends and to hear her say this, wasn’t surprising.

You were starting to think it too.

“But, I’m scared H, what if makes it worse?”

The final bell chimed and you both started to walk inside. “I have a feeling it won’t."

                                                        ........

“What an incredible performance by Ariana Grande, next up is the show we’ve all been waiting for, or well I’ve been waiting for, here’s Harry Styles performing a new song from his nominated Album, FineLine!” 

James Corden announced from the side aisle. You felt Shawn subtly queen your hand, knowing there was bound to be a camera on you the whole time while Harry sang.

You took a deep breath,

No facials.

No twitching.

Calm.

The curtain came up from the stage, the set was a back cube cut diagonally so the audience could see the inside. 

Harry stood in a white suit sans a shirt. He wasn’t wearing shoes so you could see the painted red toe nails peeking out from underneath the too long suit pants. 

His hair had been messed with a bit, giving it a soft and fluffy just out of bed look.

Now he looks like an angel.

He held a red mic in his hand, and spoke into it.

“Before we start, I’d like to inform you that I will be singing an unreleased song not from my album called.”

He took a breath.

"Red.”

You curled your toes in your heels the only way you’d be allowed to release the tension you felt in your body since they were covered by your dress.

Fuck, that’s why we match.

A piano started playing, a sort of dark melody that reverberated through your bones and into your soul.

It’s all I can see,

It’s all I can hear,

The sound is loud,

But it’s not clear.

The tone of your voice,

Plays in my head,

That look in your eyes,

I can tell you want me dead.

Grays are the only color I see,

Black and white and in between.

But then I saw you in that dress.

The color of blood always suited you the best.

You and your red dress.

You and your red…… dress.

Thoughts swirl around, in my mind.

Pretty eyes and satin clothes,

They plagues my dreams, in the night.

Grays are the only color I see,

Black and white and in between.

But then I saw you in that dress.

The color of blood always suited you the best.

You and your red dress.

You and your red…… dress.

You watched as he struggled to hold back the emotion in his voice, you sucked in a small breathe when his eyes made contact with yours, unwavering.

Oh… I wish could take it back.

Oh… I wish I could take it back.

Oh… I wish could take it back.

Oh… I wish I could take it back.

You and your red dress.

You and your red…… dress.

You and your red dress.

You and your red…… dress.

The song ended and the audience was silent.

 Everyone could feel the tension in the room, so you did the only you could do.

You stood and started to clap.

Shawn and Hailee immediately followed your cue and soon the rest of the auditorium was erupting with cheers and roars of excitement.

But all you could focus on was the smile on his face, looking down at you.

And the one forming on yours too.

<3

3rd part right here!

alsoooo i’d like to say a big wtf to people that white wash reader inserts! it’s so damn easy to just put a little colleague together like i did and add it so everyone can envision themselves and like,,, need a hairstyle? literally say ‘you did your favorite hairstyle’ thats perfect and a neutral way to keep everyone happy!!! people that bitch about going the extra mile are worthless writers smh

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x famous!reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #one direction #h s #1d x reader

[agentofscifi]

Super Genius Marinette Ch. 1

So, I read Marinette: Iron Man Rising & Ladybug: Young Avenger by @unmaskedagain and total loved them. Then I got the idea, what if Marinette was Ironman’s kid. I know there’s been a lot of BioDad ideas for Marinette and I wanted to try this one out. Hope you guys love it!

I stare down at my classmates over the top of my iPad. They were all chatting away about random things they would be doing during the summer and their pool party celebration after final exams. There were a few pointed jabs at me by Alya and Lila, but I simply ignored them. They’d gotten worse this year after it was revealed that I supposedly forced Lila to lie about having a lying disease to get out my expulsion the year previous. I simply rolled my eyes at their naivety. Coming next fall, this entire class would crash and burn. 

My class had a lot of potential, however, they never really did anything with it. It didn’t help that this entire room ran itself off of my scheduling, reminders, and fundraising due to my class representative job. I was still kind of angry at myself for taking the job. I was already juggling a lot of work. Being Ladybug was time-consuming enough, adding on class representative duties put me behind in my real studies. That was one secret I had been harboring for years. I am a child genius and the daughter of the famous Tony Stark.

When my mother was young she had a brief one night stand with my biological father, Tony Stark, while on vacation. When my mother was just a few months pregnant, she met my Papa at baking class. They started dating and ended up opening a store together. When I was just 1, they married. Now, shortly after my birth, my Mama called my Dad to inform him that she was pregnant. A DNA test was done on the sly. My father never revealed that he had a child and my existence was kept a secret. So secret that only my Father, Mama, Papa, Aunt Pepper, Uncle Rhodes, Uncle Happy, my Papa’s parents, and my Mama’s parents knew about it. A small circle that somehow remained small. 

My father sent birthday gifts, called and video chatted, and he even attended a ceremony in Paris when I was a child. However, all three of my parents wanted me to have a normal life. It was slightly more difficult when I managed to trick-out a computer at four and fix household appliances at six. They ended up sending me to a specialized école élémentarie. I was put on a fast-tracked schedule that had a lot of self-studying and online learning. If I kept to the schedule, I would graduate from Lycée at 14 and started University at 15. A few months younger than my father. 

I, however, insisted on attending normal school to keep up with kids my age. I didn’t care as much about starting university at an unusual age. I did skip a grade, however, as I couldn’t hide all of my knowledge. So, I started at a regular école élémentarie. Classes were general alright, I enjoyed the literature classes and speed through the science and math classes. I mostly did my advanced work in class. As long as I turned in my homework and wasn’t bothering people, my teachers didn’t care. Chloe did put a bit of a damper on friendships, as no one wanted to anger the Mayor’s daughter. However, I still enjoyed regular school. 

When I started Collége Françoise Dupont, at age 10, I was already through the first year of the materials. It got easier with me being in Madame Bustier’s class. She was a nice teacher but didn’t control her classroom very well. For two years I managed to do my advanced work without her ever knowing. Frankly, her relaxed environment made it easier for me to work ahead. When I started my third year of Collége, I had done all of the materials already. A year and a ½ of studying in a year’s worth of time. 

Of course, this is when it got messy. I received the Ladybug miraculous and made some real friends, or so I thought. All of this was fun and great, but it made working ahead more difficult. Adding on Ladybug work and class representative work made it possible for me to only do a year’s worth of Lycée work in a year. 

Father called, a little worried, but I easily calmed him down. I was still three years ahead of everyone else, plus adding on all of my design work and my class representative duties would make my college application even better. Less studying gave me more time to do independent work. My pseudonym, Maria, created several green energy products, three different popular apps, and an extremely lightweight, flame-resistant, and shrapnel resistant line for firefighters. I was a success, and I would continue to be, despite all of Lila’s mechanisms. Either way, I was in the last few hours of class with these idiots. Starting next fall, I’d be attending MIT in Massachusetts. 

I had a small, personal graduation from my specialized Lycée a week ago. I sent my transcripts from both my specialized Lycée and one from Lycée Françoise Dupont. I did get Madame Mandeleiev to help me get video footage of Lila framing me for my expulsion and write a letter explaining the issue of my rescinded expulsion on my record. A brief phone call and an email containing the Ladyblog link told MIT everything they needed to know about my classroom. I did get asked why I stayed. Truthfully, I wanted to see this through. After Lila’s return in the second half of my Troisieme year, I started collecting evidence against the Collége and Lycée Françoise Dupont for enabling bullies, extreme favoritism, and incompetence. 

“Marinette?” I glance up from my iPad to see Madame Bustier looking at me. The entire class is now looking at me. Lila is smirking next to Bustier. “Can you apologize to Lila?”

I raise one eyebrow. “What am I apologizing to Lila about?”

“For your rude and threatening words earlier, before class started, in the locker room.” Madame Buster speaks to me as if I am a small child. She’d done that to me for a while because I skipped a year. She seemed to think that because I was a year younger than everyone else, I need to be treated like a child. After Lila’s arrival, she became even more condescending. 

I glance at the clock really quickly. 2 minutes until the bell and just a few hours until I would be flying first class to New York. “I didn’t go to the locker room this morning Madame Bustier.”

Mrs. Bustier sighs. Lila smirks before sobbing loudly. It sounded horrible and fake, like some cheap amateur actress. “Oh, Marinette. I didn’t want to make a big deal about this. I just wanted you to apologize for your mean words and for stealing my iPad-I mean, oops!” Lila’s shirk is back, but the entire class misses it to turn to glare at me. Then the comments started.

“Dude, stealing is not cool!”

“Stop being such a bully!”

“I thought we could trust you!”

“I can’t believe this! I used to think you were such a good person.”

“Just give Lila back the iPad, Marinette.”

I roll my eyes, putting the iPad in my hand into my bag. “File a report.”

There’s silence. “What?” Lila looks at me in confusion. 

“File a report. If I really stole this iPad from you, go to the police. Have them do an investigation.” The bell rings above us and I stand from my seat. Everyone is still in the same spots, too stunted by my declaration to do anything. 

I walk down the stairs until I’m in front of Mrs. Bustier. I pull out a file and hand it to her. “I’m unable to be Class Representative next year. This is everything I need to hand over for my successor. All of the money earned for the Graduation trip in two years is in the class savings account. I left a page detailing how much was earned at each event this year.”

I move to leave the room, but Mrs. Bustier steps in front of me. “Marinette, we talked about this. The Marinette of the world, setting an example.” 

I met Mrs. Bustier’s eyes with a flat look. “Mrs. Bustier, I have a flight to catch, please move.”

“Marinette!” She sighs, but I had already moved around her.

Chaos starts to erupt behind me in the classroom. Students yelling about me being childish, some saying Lila should press charges, and others saying that they should just enjoy me being gone. Either way, it was no longer my problem. I didn’t have time for stupid people.

Next

#lila salt #alya salt #miraculous ladybug #avengers #marinette deserves better #Marinette is Tony Stark's kid #class salt #bustier salt #tony stark #peter parker #marvel #super genius marinette

[sweetiepie08]

RebelZ Chapter 6

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know.

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7.  Chapter 8.  Chapter 9. Chapter 10.

[-]

Dib flipped through the streaming services, looking for something to watch. The documentary had ended, pizza had been eaten, and Gaz had gone upstairs to fix some emergency with one of her online gaming groups. He knew he had surveillance tapes waiting for him on his desk, (or worse, college applications) but he wasn’t ready to check up on them just yet. He was actually enjoying some downtime for once, and he didn’t want it to end.

Then, he heard the all-too-familiar sounds of an alien spaceship landing outside.

Nope, he thought as he hit play on whatever show he landed on. Didn’t matter what, so long as he could pretend he couldn’t hear what was going on in his driveway.

Some muffled arguing came from the front door, followed by the bell ringing. Dib turned up the volume. Not getting out of this chair.

Loud pounding began, accompanied by cries of “Dib-human! Open this door!” Dib turned the volume up as loud as it would go as the pounding continued.

“Jesus Christ, Dib!” Gaz shouted from upstairs. “Just answer the door!”

“Fine!” Dib shut off the tv and stalked to the front door. When he opened it, he found two Irken idiots.

Zim and Tak hung off each other and drank from plastic bottles while their robot pets bolted right in and made themselves at home. “Hey, you grew into your head,” Tak said, lazily pointing her claw at him.

“You know, Dib, there’s a lot of reasons to hate your planet,” Zim slurred, letting himself in. “You keep chihuahuas as pets, some of you refuse to inoculate against deadly diseases, and that Game of Thrones finale was garbage! But at least you don’t need identification to buy gingzor, and that almost makes up for it.” Zim punctuated his short rant by taking a long swig from his bottle.

“And look,” Tak said, pulling a box of ginger snaps out of a plastic shopping bag, “they had edibles.”

“Are you guys drunk? What is this?” Dib grabbed the bottle out of Zim’s hands. He checked the label, gave it a sniff, and took a small taste. Yup, it was exactly what the label said it was. “This is just ginger ale.”

“Eee-yup,” Zim said, swiping his bottle back. “Your light brews aren’t as potent as the ones we’ve got on Irk, but it gets the job done.”

“Wait, are you guys seriously telling me your species gets drunk off ginger?”

“Why?” Tak asked, shoving a cookie in her mouth. “What do humans consume when they want to forget the futility of existence?”

“Uh, alcohol, usually.”

The two Irkens locked eyes, then burst into laughter. “Seriously?” Tak squealed, wiping a tear from her eye. “That’s an antiseptic.”

“Humans really are stupid,” Zim agreed.

“Not that kind,” Dib grumbled, knowing he would be ignored. Then he felt his temper boil. “What are you two doing in my house?!”

“Oh yeah,” the two brushed past him and hopped on the couch like they owned the place. “We need to crash here for a while,” Zim explained. He turned on the tv, got blasted by an old episode of The Office, then turned the volume down.

“Why?”

“We uncovered a conspiracy behind the Irken empire and our government tried to kill us.”

“I discovered,” Tak corrected. “They just caught you harboring me.”

“Eh, details.”

“The point is,” Tak went on, “we’re both marked as traitors and we need to lay low for a while.”

Dib could have sworn his ears perked like a dog’s. An intergalactic conspiracy? There was a story here so juicy he could almost taste it. Still, as he watched the earth’s total Irken population spill ginger ale on the couch and grind crumbs into the cushions, the only question on his mind was, “why here?”

“Need your lab,” Zim tossed off as if it should have been obvious.

“So? Why don’t you go back to your base and use your own lab?”

“Can’t.” Zim took a teal cube out of his pocket and tossed it in Dib’s direction.

Dib caught it and brought it up to his eye to inspect. “What’s this?”

“My base.”

“Your whole base is in this?” Dib strained his eyes, looking at the cube. “What’s going on? How did this even happen?”

“How far back in Irken history do you want to go?” Tak asked, popping open a bottle.

“Wait, you mean you’re actually going to tell me?”

She gave a non-committal shrug. “Eh…”

“Hold on, wait right there.” Dib zipped upstairs to his room, grabbed a notebook, pen, and recorder, then zipped back down. He grabbed a chair, hit record, and poised his pen. “Let’s start at the beginning.”

[-]

Dib scribbled furiously, trying to keep up with Tak’s slurred ramblings. Zim interjected occasionally to add something or explain an Irken concept, but it was clear exactly who the conspiracy hunter was.

“So, anyway, that’s when I realized this parasite has been controlling our entire society for generations and, you know, it’s just a real buzzkill to find out you’re basically living food.”

“I see,” Dib said, making a note to ask about this library planet later (maybe get coordinates?). “And this parasite has been masquerading as the Control Brains.”

“Not ‘masquerading’ exactly,” she explained. “They always were the Control Brains.”

“And, just to make sure I got this, the Control brains are what, again?”

Before they could answer, he heard a loud “eh-he-eh-hm.” He looked over to see Gaz standing in the kitchen doorway. When he met her eyes, she curled one finger, ominously beckoning him over. “Uh, one second, guys.” He put down his pen and followed Gaz into the kitchen.

“Make this quick, Gaz,” he said, peaking back into the living room. “These two are giving me everything.”

“Okay then,” she said, her voice displaying her irritation. “Just answer me this: why are there two destructive aliens drinking like civil war amputee patients on our couch?”

“Revealing their government’s secrets, that’s what,” he answered with unbridled glee. “Turns out, ginger gets them drunk and when they’re drunk, they have no filter. They’ve been rambling on and on about their creepy big-brother-like society for an hour now. Look at all these notes.” He shoved the notebook in Gaz’s face and flipped furiously through the pages. “As long as I keep them drunk and happy, they’ll keep talking. Which reminds me…” He took out his wallet, grabbed a bill, and handed it to Gaz. “Go to the store and buy them out of ginger ale. We can’t let them sober up.”

“Five bucks?” Gaz said, wrinkling her nose. “I assume you’re planning on reimbursing me for the grocery bill later.”

“This isn’t about money, Gaz.”

“Then dig a little deeper, Scrooge. I know your part-time at Dad’s lab pays more than this.”

“And you make plenty off of your twitch gaming streams,” Dib argued. “Come on, this is about furthering human knowledge.”

Gaz raised her eyebrow in her ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ way. “You’re offering me $5 to drop everything, go to the store, and buy out their entire supply of ginger ale without reimbursing me for the bill.”

“Uh…yes?”

She scoffed. “Get a pulse.”

Dib pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the corners of his eyes. Was she seriously arguing with him about money at a time like this? “Look, what if I give you an acknowledgement when I publish this baby? Like, say, in the forward?”

“You mean the part no one reads?”

“Uh…”

Gaz let out an exasperated huff and looked into the living room at the two Irkens. “So, they’ll really ramble on and on if you stuff them full of ginger, huh? About anything?”

“Yeah, pretty much. We managed to stay on topic so far. I mean, Zim did go on a tangent about the Game of Thrones finale, but we got back on track.”

Gaz smiled. “Did he, now? About what?”

“Something about Westeros crumbling as soon as the credits rolled. I don’t know. You watched that show, not me.”

“Hmm…” Gaz murmured, looking pointedly at Zim. Oh no, she was thinking… Worse! She was plotting!

“Gaz? What are you doing?”

She threw him a wicked smirk and sauntered into the living room. “Hey, Zim!” she called, clear as a bell. “That Game of Thrones finale sucked, right?”

“Don’t even get me started, Dib-sister!” Zim called back, slapping his hand on the couch. “Zim has never seen such a staggering drop in quality!”

Dib dropped his face into his hands. Was it too late to offer a twenty?”

[-]

“I guarantee Dorne and the Iron Islands rebelled as soon as they stepped out of the Dragon Pit.” Zim said, splashing ginger ale on the couch with every gesture. “I’ll bet they only voted ‘yes’ on Bran because this would be the easiest reign to overthrow.”

“Exactly!” Gaz said, slapping the arm of her chair. “Dany promised Yara independence two seasons ago. There’s no way she’s just going to watch him hand his sister a kingdom and not demand what’s owed to her.”

Dib twisted the notebook in his hands as he listened to them rant. They’d been at this since Gaz brought up the subject.

“And what was with them acting like Dany was in the wrong for executing Varys?” Zim added. “He tried to assassinate her!”

“As if Jon didn’t execute a child a few seasons ago for the same thing. And it was obvious that kid was coerced into it by the higher-ranking Night’s Watch men.” Gaz said. “You’ll notice Dany didn’t execute the child Varys manipulated into poisoning her. And he only thought she was ‘mad’ because she stopped listening to his shitty advice.”

“Their ‘advice’ lost her the Dornish forces, the Iron Fleet, and Highgarden’s armies,” Zim agreed.

“Plus another dragon and her best friend. And when she goes into mourning, he’s all ‘Welp, she’s clearly gone mad. Time to put her down like Old Yeller.’ Oh! And what was with Tyrion’s ‘everywhere she goes, evil men die’ speech? Like that’s a bad thing? Yeah, I know. That’s why I liked her.”

“You know wat she should have done?” Zim said. “She should have flown her three dragons to the Red Keep like she wanted to do last season. She could have taken the city with fewer casualties.”

Gaz nodded in agreement. “Maybe even no casualties if King’s Landing surrenders immediately.”

“Then she’d have all three dragons and all the armies in the Seven Kingdoms to fight the White Walkers with!” Zim added.

“Yeah, then maybe there’d be enough time to make the army of the dead live up to the hype! Nice Long Night. Lasted about six hours.”

“What is this show?” Tak asked. “I want to watch.”

“Enough!” Dib burst, jumping out of his seat. “Enough Game of Thrones! If you want to keep complaining, go on the internet and do it! Now can we please get back to you two spilling the secrets of your evil intergalactic empire!”

“There are no more secrets, human,” Tak snapped. “We’ve told all. The only other information I could find is on this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a square, plastic information drive. “But this technology is too outdated to decode. So, unless you have access to an ancient computer…”

Dib took the square and held it up to his eyes. “This just looks like a floppy disc.”

“Really, Dib-beast?” Zim scoffed. “Your planet’s technology is antiquated, but it’s not that archaic.”

“Actually, that’s pretty outdated for us too,” Gaz said, “but our dad’s got a computer graveyard in the attic. Maybe we can get one of those to work.”

Tak regarded the disc suspiciously. “You’re serious? You think you might be able to get it to work.”

“It could be possible,” Dib answered, eyeballing the disc. It looked about the right size and shape. It may at least fit into the disc drive. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve gotten Irken and Earth technology to work together. It’s worth a shot.”

[-]

After about an hour and a few trips to the attic, they found an old monitor and hard drive they managed to turn on. As the computer booted up, they compared the Irken disc drive to a standard floppy disc. Dib was right. They seemed to match up.

“You really think this has a shot?” Tak asked again. She looked skeptical they whole time the were getting set up, but as the computer whirred to life, Dib thought he could detect a hint of hope in her voice.

“It could,” Gaz answered. “If the magnetic polarity is the same as we use on earth, the computer might be able to read the disc.”

Dib nodded along. While he was good with technology, his area of expertise was more on the engineering side. Gaz was the one with an affinity for coding.

Once the computer was ready, they popped in the drive. They all gathered around the monitor and held their breath. A buffering window popped up on the screen and they let out a collective gasp.

After a few minutes, the picture went black and green Irken text scrolled up across the screen, accompanied by, what sounded to Dib, like a series of chirps, clicks, and hisses. “Um, is it supposed to be making that-”

Tak and Zim threw a sharp hiss in his direction, then went back to staring intently at the screen. When Dib quieted and listened harder, he realized the sounds came from an organic voice and had a deliberate pattern. Holy shit, it’s reading the text! This is their language!

The voice stopped and the screen froze on another set of Irken symbols.

“Oh, my…” Zim choked out, eyes still glued to the screen. “We’ve got to write that down!”

“MiMi,” Tak commanded, “my tablet.”

“Wait, what was that?” Dib asked as he watched the two aliens scramble to scribble down the symbols on the screen. “Was that guy speaking Irken? What did they say?”

“Yes,” Zim answered. “And those are coordinates to the next place we need to go.”

“You mean, I need to go,” Tak cut in. “I’m the one who uncovered the conspiracy, remember?”

Zim scowled and stomped up to her, getting in her face. “You made this my problem when you crashed at my house, drank all my gingzor, and got my base cubified.”

“Why would I ever team up with you?” she shot back.

“I’m every bit as Irken as you are,” Zim argued. “I deserve answers as much as you.”

“Will someone please tell me what that thing said?” Dib shouted. The two stopped their bickering long enough to cast him an icy stare.

“Well,” Dib growled impatiently. If these two thought they were going to force their way into his home, spill ginger ale on his couch, tell him about an intergalactic conspiracy, and not let him in on the details, they had another thing coming.

“This doesn’t concern you, human,” Zim snapped.

“You two waltzed in here expecting me to hide you form your creepy totalitarian government and let you use my lab. Unless you want me to throw you out on your ass…”

“Fine, fine,” Tak said, waving an arm dismissively. “That voice claimed to be Krislotch. He confirmed that he left the clues that lead me to discover the truth about the Control Brains. He also claims more information is waiting on a planet at those coordinates. I must go there next if I want to solve this mystery.”

“We must go there,” Zim but in.

“This is my conspiracy, Zim,” Tak growled, turning back to him. “If there are more answered waiting on that planet, I will be the one to find them.”

“Oh yeah?” he said with a smirk. “How you gonna get there? I’m the only one with a working ship.”

“Dib’s got a ship,” Gaz chimed in. She turned to Tak. “Actually, I think it’s your ship.”

“You!” Before Dib could say anything, Tak had already jumped on the coffee table and grabbed his collar. “You have my ship?!”

“Uhh…”

“Take me to her!”

[-]

“wha-wha…WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

They group stood in the garage and stared at the collection of barely-held-together parts, also known as Tak’s ship. Dib had to admit, his last few forays into space hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing.

“It doesn’t look like this all the time,” he tried explaining. “I’ve gotten it to work. But, you know, sometimes things happen… and when they happen, I have to convince the ship to let me fix it again.”

“And why is she blue?”

“Um… I like blue?”

“Stupid human!” Tak spat, rushing up to her ship. “You have no idea what you’ve been toying with!”

“Fine,” Dib grumbled under his breath. “Only repaired it multiple times of the last six years but whatever…”

“Ship,” Tak commanded, laying a hand on the ship’s windshield. “Respond.”

“Biosignature detected,” the ship said as it began to light up. “You are Tak.”

“Yes, yes, ship! It’s me!” she cried. Dib could almost swear there were tears in her eyes.

“Hmpf, what took you so long?”

Tak looked taken aback. “I was, uh, had a lot going on, you know? Schemes and such?”

“And you never once thought to check in on your ship?”

“When I have to eject, I thought I’d lost you forever,” Tak explained, pressing both hands on the windshield. “I never wanted to leave you behind, but I’m here now. I can take you back.”

“Hey, wait a minute…” Dib protested. He started forward, but Gaz pulled him back.

“It’s her ship, dummy.”

“And how exactly did you get here?” Ship went on.

Tak hesitated. “Well, I…”

“I knew it,” Ship huffed. “You have a new ship now, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that,” Tak insisted. “Yes, I needed a new ship to get around, but I swear, it was a simple matter of transport. That ship means nothing to me. I would trade every other ship in the universe for you.”

The ship went quiet, as if thinking it over. Dib found himself oddly captivated, like when he’d accidently get sucked into his grandmother’s soap operas. He quickly shook himself out of it. This is ridiculous. She’s talking to a ship.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Ship finally said.

“I promise, Ship, I will fix you myself and, after that, I will never even look at another ship again.” She gently caressed its side and the engines purred.

“I will allow you to repair me, for now. After that, perhaps I can allow you to pilot me again, in time.”

Tak smiled and continued to pet her ship while it continued to purr. The scene was almost sweet until Zim decided to break it up.

“Well, well, well,” Zim said, a smug smile on his face, “looks like I’m the only one here with an operational ship.”

Tak only hissed in response.

“So, I guess I’ll be taking those coordinates and be on my way,” he continued, “unless someone wants to grovel for the chance to accompany me.”

Tak stomped up to Zim and unleashed a cavalcade of Irken at him. Dib wasn’t sure what she said, but if cricket/bat/snake could cuss someone out, he imagined it’d sound something like that.

“Okay,” Zim squeaked out, looking up at Tak who now towered over him. “I suppose I could let you come, but only because you asked so nicely.”

“I’m coming too,” Dib declared.

Tak and Zim both turned to him with questioning looks on their faces. “Uh, what?” Zim said.

“I’m coming. I want to see what’s on that planet, too.”

“This doesn’t concern you, human,” Tak spat.

“Excuse me? Who’s house are you two crashing at? Who’s ancient computer did you use to get those coordinates? And who’s been keeping your ship running while you’ve been got?”

“We don’t need-” Zim started, but Dib cut him off.

“Yes you do,” he shot back. “You need my lab to get your base working again. You said so yourself. And Tak, you need my garage and my tools if you’re going to fix your ship. If you want to stay here and use my equipment, to fix your stuff, you need to let me in on the conspiracy.”

The two Irkens looked at each other intently, as if holding a telepathic conversation. Dib briefly wondered if they could communicate semi-telepathically, or at least through pheromones. They did have antenna after all.

Finally, they broke their stare down and turned back to Dib. “Fine, the Dib can come,” Zim conceded.

Dib felt a jolt of excitement jump through his body. “Yeah, Gaz and I-”

“Nope,” Gaz said, turning on her heals and heading back inside.

Okay, so no Gaz. Aw well, he could at least count on her to cover for him while he’s gone. “I will get my space travel equipment and be ready to leave within the hour.”

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Zim said, and he and Tak headed back inside as well. Dib went further into the garage and began preparing the things he’s need for the trip.

“You’re seriously going to let him come along?” Tak asked as they walked away.

“Eh,” Zim said with a shrug. “If the Dib-worm wants to come to a dead planet where total species-wide genocide took place, let him.”

Dib let the helmet he’d been holding clang to the floor. “Wait, what?”

#invader zim #invader zim fanfiction #invader zim fanfic #iz fanfic #iz #parasite au #iz parasite au #zim #dib #tak #gaz #gir #mimi #rebelz #rebel zim #rebel leader tak #tak ship #sweetiepie writes #sweetiepie fanfic #sweetiepie08 #sweetiepiewrites

[onisiondrama]

(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“The New Onision Conspiracy” prev. “Hitting Your Loved Ones Is Never Ok” Speaks, September 29?, 2020 (deleted)

- Says he got 6,000 - 7,000 new followers on Twitch during one stream. Allegedly, it’s from a streamer who was trying to say Onision beats his s/o. He thought it was about Shiloh (called the cops on Shiloh stories). - He found out over stream it was actually about a record or report from November 16, 2019 where someone said it sounded like there was domestic violence in his home. He says people don’t factor in that the police are often called on streamers and Youtubers. Internet people like to waste the money of tax payers and get Youtubers and streamers swatted or call animal control all the time. - Says he was told by a police officer someone called. At the time he thought it was about his pets because it happened so often. People from the internet called and would say they’re a neighbor to get the cops to come. - Anti-o is one of the most criminal and toxic community out there because they waste tax payer money and waste the time of the police, animal control, and CPS. - Someone tried to get him swatted, but it didn’t work. They released the audio. He never listened to it, but he was told it was really bad and embarrassing for the person who called. The person who picked up the call was intelligent and saw through that person right away. Emergency receptionists deal with a lot of imbeciles, like people asking for directions to Pizza Hut. - The pizza companies don’t like anti-o’s because they were pranked so many times. He asked them to put down his number and call him to confirm if he actually ordered a pizza because people would order meat lovers pizzas to his home. They tried to pointlessly kill animals and waste the pizza company’s time and money. The prank never worked because he would never take the pizza. - Lying is the go-to for people who want to be evil online. Sarah was reported as murdered and she answered the door. Kai was reported missing and Kai answered the door. - (He was reported to animal control for farting / muffin) - People create villainous legends about him online. If you watch his Twitch you’ll know he’s boring. He’s only entertaining in videos because he’s one of the best villainous actors out there. A director tried to put him in a loving role. The director asked him why he was so awkward and weird when he was brilliant in the other roles he gave him. He says it’s because he’ll the villain. He’s Loki, not Thor. He’s the guy that plays American Psycho, not Romeo from Romeo and Juliet. - Says people created a fictional universe where he’s a super manipulative intellectual who’s playing everyone. It’s an elaborate, nonsensical concept of him. You’d think the people who he kicked out of his life would say that’s ridiculous but they were kicked out for being liars. He’s actually quite virtuous. He has morals, standards, an overwhelming respect for the truth and justice. - He can be cold like L. He’d fit in the role of L. He hates playing Light Yagami. He always depicts L (I think he meant to say Light) as an idiot in his Death Note sketches because his motivations are stupid, he’s a criminal. He acts like a hero yet he’s killing people for disagreeing with him. - Says Thanos was an idiot too. [goes into detail about Thanos’ motivations] He should have doubled the size of the planets so he doesn’t have to kill everyone. He murdered countless individuals. - People tried to use a Leafy video as evidence against him to the police. Leafy recently wrote to him and said this was all r-worded. Keemstar also pointed out how stupid this all is. Neither of them like him, but they both had to deal with crazy anti-o. You’re all conspiracy theorists whack jobs. - (Hansen trespassed, Mike went to court) - Someone on twitter said he belongs in prison, but there was no crime. - All these people’s stories don’t line up. One person says he thinks he’s a god, another person says he’s a jerk, someone said he was rude to his husband. The consistency is he’s rude to people and you guys think that concludes a prison sentence. - People jumped to conclusions with Johnny Depp, but they flipped when they saw evidence of his girlfriend being awful. - He filmed himself walking in on Shiloh in the shower with a Go Pro. (He describes the sketch.) Says she was 18 or 19. He says it was a pretend prank. They also made a Taco Bell prank where they pretended to order in a drive thru when it was closed. He pretended to shave half of her head when she was sleeping. She told them to shave her head before the video. There was another prank where he said things like she’s not good enough at the end of the video. It’s what Youtubers do, it was fake drama. At the time you guys got it. The videos got 2,000 likes and 200 dislikes. Later on it’s out of context and people don’t understand the vibe. He threw candy corn at her and she pretended to be upset. They were dating and it was part of the joke. (He dumped Shiloh for cheating and getting pregnant story.) - If someone calls the cops on you, that doesn’t mean what they said is true. The person that called was not even a verified neighbor. - He has a hater that lives across the water. He filmed him bulldozing his weeds and made a huge thing online about it. [No. That guy worked for the fish and wildlife department in their county. He was literally doing his job. He saw a violation and reported it. He sent the video to the county when he reported it. People online got a hold of the video online because it was with the public reports on the site.] Says it was primarily blackberry bushes, nettles, and devil’s club that he cleared. Things that significantly hurt adults and children. Anti-os freaked out about it and his yard is literally better now than it’s ever been. People say he destroyed his land. What a bunch of numbskulls. - He recently did a poll on twitter and asked if he made a poll for legal expenses and after he collects it he says the majority will go to fixing his car, if that’s fraud. 80% said yes. An anti-o did that and it’s not fraud? He did another poll asking if he told someone he could destroy their life and they later asked him to sign an NDA and he told them only if they sleep with him, would that be rape? People voted 8/10 yes. Says that’s what Sarah did to him. - People used to show up to their debates and after would say they never really hated him. They were just being an entertainer or liking the attention he was getting them. You’re dealing with a bunch of liars. - He’s never found someone who talked about honesty as much as him and wound up being a liar. He swears on his own life that he’s an honest person. - He says he doesn’t need to talk about things like how he was crying when his daughter fell out of a window, but he’s trying to be transparent. - Says the domestic violence call thing obviously never happened. He and Kai are not violent. Shiloh was violent. She was hauled away for threatening to frame him for murder. Her ex said she threatened to put a bowie knife in him. (Shiloh stole his money story.) You guys hail that person a hero because you don’t care about reality. - He thinks possibly someone heard him making a meltdown video, but the only neighbor he’s near is cool with him. They text every few months about bears they saw. They invited him once to a BBQ. The hater across the water watched his with their camcorder zoomed in like a peeping Tom. 🙄 - Anti-os love breaking the law. You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain. [I swear if I got $1 every time I listened to him saying that quote I’d be rich.] They think they’re heroes, but they hurt people like villains. If you’re self righteous and you hurt others because you think you’re above other people, you’re a villain.  - He’s hurt a lot of people’s feeling and made people cry because he rejected them or said what was true. A lot of people don’t like that. - He talked to Kai about all this today and he was amused. Kai was upstairs smiling and chuckling about it. - Comment section is still closed because he doesn’t want people to talk about conspiracy theories. He’s thinking about making a forum so his fans can talk about his videos.

[timextoxhajima]

NCT One Shot Collection

Member: Kun

Genre: Friendship, a teaspoon of mean girls

Word Count: 3.2k

Qian Kun had his fingers in his hair, his usual cheerful smile completely wiped off his face despite how loud and boisterous his friends at the table were.

You were at your table with your own female friends, who were all too busy scrolling on Instagram or Tumblr, looking up gifs of their favourite idols.

"y/n?" The one sitting next to you nudged your shoulder.

"She's been calling you a few times now, are you alright?" Another friend sitting opposite you put her phone down and studied your distressed expression. She watched your eyes fixate on a distant table behind her at the loudest table in the canteen hall and followed your line of vision. She turned back and sighed, looking at you with eyes of exasperation.

"If you're so worried about him, maybe you should talk to him. I've been hearing all those things about how his girlfriend is treating him too. It's not any of our business, but we know you've been friends with him longer than any of us, and since none of his friends seem to giving any shits, maybe you should," Whatever she said got the attention of the third friend at the table, sitting diagonally across you.

"I know, but have you forgotten what she did the last time I tried to step in and help him?" You shook your head, finally peeling your eyes away from him and looking down at your unfinished fruit salad.

It was only 2 weeks ago when you tried to talk to your friend of 5 years about his girlfriend, which you found was the worst possible thing that could happen to him. Qian Kun was sweet, gentle, loving. Him being a cook and being such an understanding man were just bonus points. But the downside was that it had attracted the wrong butterfly to his flame. 

Instead of a butterfly, it was more like a moth. A disgusting, brown colored, hairy moth. 

*flashback

You were at a party his friends Lucas and Ten had thrown, and the younger ones of Qian Kun's social circle, Yang Yang, De Jun and Hendery had begun telling you the stories of how horrible his new girlfriend was treating him: always expecting him to cook for her like he didn't have his own grades to worry about, wanting him to buy her expensive bags and clothes, even refusing to call him for days on edge when he shows any bit of frustration with her. 

You couldn't blame Qian Kun, because half the time the girl wasn't even around to keep him company. She would be at a club, drinking her life away and probably sucking other guys off when she had a perfect specimen of a man waiting for her. Out of goodwill and pity, you approached Qian Kun during the party, trying your best not to seem like an intruder into his toxic relationship. Yet, it was as if she had some CCTV installed in the house, because the moment you sat down next to him and began talking, she appeared before the two of you. She flashed you the most flirtatious smile you had seen on a woman, and the way she pushed back her wavy brown locks before proceeding to sit on Qian Kun's lap made you want to hurl your dinner out onto her shiny hair.

"Who's this, K?" She gleefully raised a brow at him, throwing one of her arms around his neck. Qian Kun forced out a smile, eyeing you from the corner of his eyes. You know he hated when people called him K.

"She was my partner on a big project in the school we were in before. I was in my final year and you were in year 1, right? We've been friends for more than 4 years...?" Qian Kun looked at you directly, his eyes softening, very unlike the way he looked at his own girlfriend.

"5 years this autumn," You nodded, trying your best not to look at his girlfriend.

"Aww, cute," She cooed. There was an awkward silence wafting in the air between the three of you despite how explosive the music was. "Anyhoo, K, baby, I have a thing tomorrow and we gotta cancel that lunch date we've got," She pouted, flitting her long, fake lashes at him. Qian Kun's eyes were dim and dull for a moment, like a moment of disappointment, but he recovered in a second, putting on his soft, pretty smile and nodding.

"Okay, is dinner still on?" He questioned. She paused and hummed to herself, now twirling a bunch of her hair on her fingers. "I'll update you?" She looked at him with those disgusting "please" eyes again. The amount of effort it took you to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and throwing up was enough to get you straight As for the semester.

"Alright then," Qian Kun pressed his lips together, still trying his best to smile. She grinned like a snake, or a wasp, before you watched her wrap her fingers around his chin and finger pads press into his cheeks, pulling his face upwards to kiss her.

You were completely grossed out. You didn't have feelings for Kun, so this move was just trash. What was she trying to prove? She wasn't even cherishing him the way a normal girlfriend would cherish her boyfriend, why keep him with her?

You turn away, knowing very well that she was only doing this to spite you. She was probably forcing her tongue down the poor man's throat and biting his lips into some bleeding oblivion. After a good half a minute, she finally pulled away, satisfied.

"Hey, I'll get you a drink, wait here?" She suddenly looked to you and asked. You were about to reject the snake's offer, when she just hopped off Qian Kun's lap and patted your shoulder like you were friends with her.

Once she walked into the kitchen and out of sight, you turn to Qian Kun who was busy drinking water, washing away the poison she had left in his mouth and throat.

"Why are you still with her?" You blurted out, frowning at him the way your parents would if they ever found out about such a woman. Qian Kun remained silent despite hearing your question crystal clear above the loud sound.

"Here you go, sweetie," Her horrid voice sounded from behind you. She placed a can of Sprite into your palms, walking over to Qian Kun again and now sitting on top of him, her legs spread out on his sides as she got ready to eat his face again.

"God, help you," You mouth to Qian Kun as you got off the couch.

The drink had been expired for a year, and it caused you to miss school for half a week of the most important part of the semester - pre-examination period.

*now

"Right," Your friend nodded, then shook her head at how despicable Qian Kun's girlfriend was. "Does he know?"

You shook your head, highly doubtful that he noticed you weren't in biology lecture when he was busy keeping his girlfriend awake the entire hour. Break passed relatively quickly, your friends starting an online game that entertained all four of you until the bell rang. You went off for Psychology, sitting at the end of the line you and your three friends always sat in during lectures. Strolling into the theatre was De Jun, Lucas and Hendery, who were your age. You were friends with De Jun, the most soft-spoken one of the three, so it wasn't surprising that he decided to sit next to you and the other two next to him.

Without a word, De Jun took out a piece of paper and dropped it on your lecture table, halting your writing and motivating you to look at him with curiosity.

"Is this a confession letter, Xiao De Jun?" You teased. De Jun snorted softly and rolled his eyes.

"Just because we are both Chinese doesn't mean I have to like you."

"That's racist," You gasped playfully.

"To our own race, so it hurts a little less," De Jun said as-a-matter-of-factly. You blew out through your mouth, giving De Jun a slightly more annoyed look. You open the folded piece of paper he had given you, and in it was a short letter, written in Chinese.

I wanted to apologise in person but never got the chance or the courage to. I know what Xin Han did to you, I hope you're alright now. - Qian Kun

"I thought he didn't know," You whisper to yourself. De Jun looked over at you, knowing that he wasn't supposed to hear that.

"Just so you know, we don't like her either," De Jun said softly without looking at you, so the lecturer wouldn't catch the two of you talking. "She's been messing around with him so much, he isn't the person we know anymore."

"Haven't you tried persuading him to dump her? Why hasn't he anyway?" You shook your head in dismay, folding the piece of paper back up and stuffing it into your pencil case.

"The man doesn't want to break her heart, or seem like an asshole for breaking up with one of the prettiest girls in school," De Jun began copying some notes off the screen.

"What? 'Break her heart'? The entire school knows she's Satan's spawn, if it's any heart that's breaking, it's Qian Kun's. And for the record, she's not even that pretty,"

De Jun laughed.

-

You were at the bus stop waiting for your bus to come, when you suddenly remembered what De Jun told you earlier today. You wished you could do something for Kun, but the man was too kind and too nice to break up with anything. He would totally wait for Xin Han to dump him first just so that he wouldn't hurt her. You pull out your phone, searching for Kun's contact before you heard some snake call out your name. You look up to see Chen Xin Han walking towards you in her excessive outfit that shouldn't even be allowed to be worn in a university campus. Crop top, black leggings, boots, hoops on her ears that could fit a dolphin. You took a deep breath, silently praying to God to give you all the patience and tolerance in the world in case Chen Xin Han was in the mood to mess with you.

"I heard what happened about your absence from school recently, what was it about?" She smirked, quietly but obviously scanning you from your head to your toes. While she was dressed like a college hooker, you were in a simple long-sleeved top and ripped jeans with ankle boots.

"I think you would know better, don't you?" You reply without looking at her.

"Oh my! Was it the drink I gave you? I would never," Xin Han pressed a palm to her chest, her eyebrows tilting backwards near the edges of her eyes. She actually looked remorseful for a moment.

"Why hold on to him?" You asked, choosing to ignore what she had done to you two weeks ago.

"What?" Her tone flipped like a table. She went from fake-sweet, to downright hateful and detestable.

"Qian Kun. You don't love him. Why not let him go?" You finally look at her straight in her blue-contacts covered irises. Her hair today was straightened, long enough to touch her belly where her skin was exposed.

"You don't know..." She smirked, eyeing you cautiously.

"What? Don't know what?" You frowned for the umpteenth time today.

"He was offered training from SM Entertainment, you didn't know?"

You turn away, even more pissed off. So what if Kun was offered to train at SM? It doesn't give her an excuse to stay with him. Is she now only with him because of his very likely bright future?

"What the Hell, Xin Han? So, the sole reason why you're with him is because he might become a celebrity? That's it?" Your voice was now louder than usual, other students at the bus stop turning and watching you get angry about something Satan's spawn had said to you. She gave out a sharp, short laugh, folding her arms across her chest, eyeing you precariously.

"Maybe, maybe not. He's not your boyfriend, so why should you bother?" She took a step towards you, glaring at you straight in the eye, almost like she was daring you to challenge her.

"At least I'm more of a friend to him than you are a girlfriend, bitch," You spat, watching her shut her eyes as she felt some small drops of saliva land on her perfect cheekbones. Her demure, perfect stance was broken down immediately, and almost instantly, she was nearly clawing your eyes out. She was pulling your hair and grabbing on your clothes, the students around either taking out their phones or moving away uncomfortably.

"What the--" De Jun nearly yelled out, noticing the commotion at the bus stop right outside school. Lucas and De Jun sped towards the commotion as if their life depended on it, and when De Jun realised you were being attacked by Xin Han, he pulled you away. Lucas grabbed onto Xin Han and held her wrists together.

"Get off me!" She screamed, writhing herself free from Lucas's grasp. Yang Yang, Ten, Hendery and Qian Kun caught up. De Jun was brushing your hair aside, studying your face and arms, noticing that you had scratches on your forearms from Xin Han's long nails.

"Kunnie!" Xin Han gasped and threw herself at Kun, her hair in a slight mess and her shirt a little out of place. "Let's go. We don't hang out with low-lives," She linked arms with him and practically dragged him away. Qian Kun looked back at you, his eyes filled with remorse and regret.

"Are you okay? Jesus," De Jun had his palm on your shoulder, his eyes unable to tear away from the scratches on your arms.

"I'm alright," You shook your head. You were more bothered by the truth of Kun and Xin Han's relationship than the scratches on your arm.

"Come on, let's get you some Disney plasters," Lucas laughed, nodding his head back towards the school.

De Jun sat by you, checking the scratches on your arms as it started to bleed a little while Lucas received a first aid box from one of the office ladies.

"Did you know that he was offered training in SM?" You asked quietly, watching De Jun carefully wiped the scratches and cleaned the blood away before pasting the blue Frozen plasters on the more serious cuts. De Jun looked up at you through his fringe, taking in a deep breath and then releasing it in the most exasperated manner possible. Lucas must've heard the question, since he immediately got quiet and stood awkwardly in a corner, staring at his feet.

"Xin Han told him that if he broke up with her, she would send in horrible remarks about him. Though they might take it under investigation but it's not a risk Kun is willing to take," De Jun pressed on the plaster, pulling back once he was done.

"What? Are you for real? That's awful! Can't Kun just get a lawyer or something? He has nothing to be afraid of!" You were on the brim of punching someone, but you held back because the only person you wanted to punch wasn't in the room.

"I mean, people did film you and Xin Han fight just now, you didn't attack her but you have a ton of scratches on your arm. We could actually get a restraint order on her," Hendery strolled into the room, his hands behind his back as if he had figured out some big truth of the universe.

"Right, they did," You remembered all the cameras pointing at you. "We could... and Qian Kun could file for a restraint order too if we get evidence of sexual assault on him."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Hendery rolled his eyes. "Remember that party at our place two weeks back? We have cameras installed in the house. I'm pretty sure Xin Han giving you that can of expired drink is on that hard drive somewhere."

De Jun's eyes were gleaming when he looked at you. Finally, you could help Kun get free of Satan's spawn, but first, you chose to give her one last chance for redemption.

Xin Han had her eyes shooting darts and lasers through you and the boys behind you. They decided to come for protection and to deter Xin Han from picking a fight with you. Though she was popular in school, the boys’ reputation was of no match.

"We have evidence of you sexually assaulting Qian Kun, and assaulting me at the bus stop three days ago. I have the diagnosis of my food poisoning from the expired drink, we have the video tape of you shoving your disgusting tongue down Kun's throat at the party, and a billion versions of the fight at the bus stop, followed by physical injuries suffered by me."

Xin Han was in disbelief. You could see the blood boil through her eyes and her veins, her chest heaving up and down more obviously than before. You heard De Jun hush Hendery, knowing that he was trying his best not to laugh.

"You either get a restraining order or you leave Kun on your own accord, let's see which way you prefer," You folded your arms across your chest, watching her Satanic soul spiral out of control on the inside, the hate she had for you spilling through her eyes and through her lips.

Later that day, De Jun set up for Qian Kun to meet you face to face to share the great news. You had a voice recording of your confrontation with Xin Han on your phone. De Jun was sitting nearby while Hendery and Lucas were standing around, busy ruffling each other's necks.

"Hey, you called-- What are all of you doing here?" Qian Kun frowned, noticing that his own group of friends were standing around.

"She has something for you," De Jun smiled widely.

-

You and your three friends were busy playing the same game as you did with them a week back. Only with a much more occupied game room.

"Dude, stop firing!" Your first friend yelled.

"I'll die if I don't fire!" Lucas screamed back.

"Shut up, oh my God!" Another friend shouted.

"Back me up!" Hendery urged.

"Gonna hurl a molotov!" Your third friend announced.

You were in the game too, but you were too busy to notice how Qian Kun's eyes were fixated on you, only looking away once every while. You looked up from your phone after the game ended, finally connecting eyes with him. He was the happiest he had been in… forever, and seeing him happy made your heart feel full.

"Thank you," He mouthed.

#timetohajima #nct fanfic #nct imagine #wayv #kun #qian kun #kun imagine #kun fanfic #kun scenario #friendship #nct one shot #kun one shot #wayv one shot

[hedwigstalons]

High Expectations

This is a fic that I originally told myself I wouldn’t post any of until it was complete.   Evidently I lied.  It’s not complete but I do have 21k words and eight chapters built up already.  It was meant to be Gordon’s story of how he ended up in WASP but the other brothers have decided to put in an appearance too (I blame the boys and also @willow-salix​ for encouraging them)

I’ve also set myself a secondary challenge with this to produce a piece of art for each chapter.  I’m hoping to try out different styles and hopefully make some progress over time.  This first bit was very much about getting a feel for the tools (a challenge seeing as I first have to wrestle the drawing pad away from the small person who just likes being able to make rainbow glitter pictures)

Anyway....

xoxoxox

Summary: Jeff Tracy has very strong beliefs about what he expects from his sons.  Sometimes his expectations are at odds with what his sons themselves want from life, especially Gordon.  

Chapter One

The office was tiny, barely large enough for the single desk it contained.  It didn’t really matter.  This room no longer had a permanent resident. State wide cuts to the careers service and an investment in online guidance meant that careers advisors were stretched across districts; a few lonely individuals doing the rounds of the high schools to dispense reassurance and wisdom in statutory ten minute blocks.  As a consequence this area of the school hadn’t been refurbished in many years and had a general air of neglect.  The carpet tiles had been worn bald in a clear path to the two chairs in the room, one in front of the desk and one behind.  The painted cinderblock walls were covered in posters, bleached and faded by the California sun, bearing inspirational quotes.  

 You can do anything!

 Be the change you want to see

 Aim for the skies

 The posters mirrored the sentiments he had heard at home too many times.  Although at home they tended to come tinged with disappointment as he handed over yet another report card that didn’t meet the standard set by the siblings who had gone before.  Yale, Harvard and the Denver School of Advanced Technology had already accepted a Tracy.  Gordon just couldn’t match up to their lofty heights of academic success.  He was bright but that just got overshadowed by the glittering trio above him.  Anything he did had always been done better by at least one, but more often all, of his older brothers.  

 The pressure to achieve academic excellence had lessened slightly as his swimming training had ramped up in intensity.  As competitions progressed from local, to state, to national, to international the family had grown to accept that this was no passing hobby.  But Gordon still lived with the constant threat that he would be pulled out the pool if his grades dropped too low.  It was taking all his energy to keep on top of his school work to the required B- average insisted on by his father so that he could keep doing the one thing he felt truly good at.  The one thing that set him apart from his over-achieving brothers.

 At least the teachers didn’t judge him or at least couldn’t judge him against his more intellectual siblings.  As soon as John had graduated high school and started at Harvard, an accomplishment for which he was several years younger than the average after skipping a couple of grades, Jeff had moved himself and the youngest boys away from rural Kansas to Los Angeles.  The old farmhouse was retained but was no longer a permanent base for the family.

 The move to the city was a strategic decision by Jeff and one that was only delayed in order to allow John to complete his high school education without the disruption of an inter-state move.  For Jeff it meant the ability to site himself in the commercial heartlands expected of the business that was flourishing under his direction.  It also meant he was able to get back each night to care for his youngest children, even if he sometimes didn’t make it back to the apartment before midnight.

 It may have been expected that Jeff Tracy, an individual rapidly climbing the lists of America’s richest and most influential individuals, would have used the move as an opportunity to enrol his youngest sons in the finest educational establishment Los Angeles had to offer. But Jeff Tracy was a man raised in Kansas wheat fields.  A man for whom his own success and the successes of his eldest three sons had been built on the foundations of learning delivered in small town rural schools. What was good enough for him was good enough for all his children.  There were no private tutors or exclusive schools.  Gordon and Alan found themselves enrolled in the regular district school with its air of neglect and underfunding.

 A large part of Gordon really wanted to be back in his math class.  Not because he had any great fondness for the subject but because he found it hard in a way the others didn’t.  He was not above digging out Virgil’s old annotated English texts or Scott’s history files if he wanted a bit of extra insight for his essays but math was different. Any notes left by his siblings were generally an incomprehensible scrawl.  Not that any of them had made many math notes; they all seemed to just get it.  

 Gordon still remembered the first time after John had headed off to Harvard that he had called for help with his homework.  John had tried to be patient but there had been an unmistakeable tone of annoyance accompanied by a condescending eye roll clearly visible on the call screen.  Gordon had been left in no doubt that John found the idea of a Tracy struggling with algebra to be frankly insulting.  Virgil had displayed rather more patience and understanding but the pity that came with the help was too much for Gordon to take.  He didn’t want to find out what Scott’s reaction would be.  The golden haloed first-born was becoming increasingly distant and superior as his career in the Air Force progressed.  

 And so Gordon ploughed on alone.  Taking study guides to swim competitions to read between the heats.  Trying to juggle the conflicting demands of Team USA and Team Tracy.  The former striving for physical excellence and peak performance, the latter demanding excellence across the board.

 The careers advisor on the far side of the desk looked up at the young man sat opposite her.  The school records showed he was academically above average.  He had prospects.  

 The students that entered her office tended to fall into three broad categories.  There were the ones that didn’t really need their regulation advice session having already got their chosen career path mapped out, whether that involved furthering their education or just jumping straight into the local jobs market. There were those that were bewildered and clueless about where to turn next.  Then there were those that just didn’t seem to care and who drifted through her office much like they drifted through the rest of their school career. She wondered which she would encounter in this interview.

 “So Gordon” she smiled at the teenager, “have you considered what you want to do after you graduate high school?”

 The teen looked at her with a slightly surprised expression.

 “Swim, ma’am”  

 It was said bluntly and without preamble, accompanied by a mid-western politeness that the move to the city hadn’t shaken off. Stated as fact rather than as some hypothetical idea.  She had encountered plenty of teenagers with dreams of making it big on the sporting circuit but very few made it professional.  Usually the dreams were of football or basketball; swimming was a new one to add to her list.  

 “Swim?”

 “Yes ma’am, swim.  I’ve already got my qualifying time sorted.  Come the summer I’ll be at the Olympics.”

 Cogs clicked into place.  This was her nineteenth interview of the day and the students were beginning to blur together, even with the supplementary notes put together by the tutors that actually got to see these kids each day.  The low attendance scores suddenly made sense. Gordon Tracy, the rising star of the swimming circuit.

 “Of course.”  She flustered slightly over her notes.  It was a new experience to have a member of the Olympic squad sat before her. But she was obliged to be a sounding board for his career choice for the next ten minutes.  She couldn’t just send him back to class off the back of a one word answer.  She decided to stick to familiar territory; if they know the plan, find out the backup plan.

 “Have you considered what you will do after swimming? You have good grades here.  I’d recommend making a college application.”

 The youngster gave a hollow sort of chuckle. “Not good enough for anywhere that matters.  I think I’ll stick to what I’m good at, ma’am.”

 The interview was brought to a close by the final bell of the day and Gordon was glad to be able to scoop up his rucksack and escape the claustrophobic confines of the office.  He was sure the careers advisor meant well but he felt that the session was a pretty pointless experience.  Actually being in class would have been a better use of his time.

 As he reached the front of the school he spied Alan waiting for him in their usual spot.  The younger boy was scuffing his shoes in the dirt while waiting, the bored expression of his face breaking into smile when he saw his older brother.  They set off on the short walk back the apartment.

 “Good day, Al?”

 “Yeah, ok”

 “Much homework?”

 Alan grimaced.  He was about as fond of homework as Gordon was.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.  Well make sure you get on with it as soon as we get in.  No video games until it’s finished.”

 “Yes Sir!”  The response was accompanied by a mocking salute which earned Alan a gentle whack on the back of the head.

 “Hey, less of that.  I’m not Scott.  But seriously Al, just make sure you get it done.  I’ve got an extra training session tonight but only a short one; you’ll have the place to yourself until about 6.  I’ll sort us some dinner once I’m home.”

 “Will you be able to play video games with me once you’re back.”

 “Sorry, I’ll have my own work to get on with.”

 Alan’s shoulders slumped dejectedly and his feet dragged along the sidewalk.

 “Another quiet night then.”

 Gordon hated seeing Alan so flat.  The pair spent a significant amount of time together and, like all his brothers, he had a desire to protect the youngest.  He wrapped an arm around the shoulders of the shorter boy and was rewarded with a shove in the ribs.  Evidently anything even slightly resembling a hug in public was out this close to the school grounds.

 “I’ll see what I can do.”

 They had reached the apartment by this point. Gordon dashed inside to grab his swimming kit and left Alan with strict instructions to make sure he got all his homework done.  He didn’t like leaving Alan home alone but it was a regular occurrence now.  Their father wouldn’t be home for hours and with all the others moved away the youngest two had got used to fending for themselves.  He left Alan with a promise that they would spend some time together later.

 The training session passed in a blur of drills.  There were now more days with both morning and evening training in preparation for the Olympics and the extra workouts were taking their toll.  By the time Gordon reached the apartment his shoulders ached and all he wanted to do was stand under a scalding hot shower before collapsing in to bed.  Unfortunately he knew he had other responsibilities to attend to first.

 Gordon rolled his shoulders, plastered on a smile and scanned the entry system for the apartment.

 xoxoxox

 Normally weekday meals were Gordon’s domain or he was at least there to help out if Alan ventured into the kitchen.  But he had completed his homework quicker than expected and in the boredom of the empty apartment it had seemed like a good idea to start dinner.

 He took the pack of greens from the fridge, prodded the pan of pasta and gave the chicken a quick stir.  As he sliced the greens an acrid smell assaulted his nostrils.  The chicken, which had been cooking nicely until now seemed to have chosen the moment he took his eye off the ball to catch and stick to the bottom of the pan.  Carefully prepared strips of prime breast disintegrated and crumbled as he tried to scrape the dried out offerings from the base of the pan.  He cursed, turned out the stove, and went back to preparing the greens.  

 The clock ticked closer to 6pm.  Steam rose in billows from the pan of greens which had reached a rapid boil.  Perhaps he should have waited until Gordon was actually home before cooking the vegetables, the shredded leaves were starting to disintegrate.  

 At least the pasta should be ok.  

 The pasta which wasn’t boiling.

 More cursing filled the air as Alan realised his error. In his attempt to salvage the chicken he had turned off the heat under the pasta as well.  Perhaps he should have just let Gordon cook the whole thing. This was a mistake.  All he wanted to do was free up some time in the hope of getting a game in with Gordon and instead he had ruined everything.  He wondered if it was too late to dig out the emergency credit card and call for take out.  He would just have to make sure Dad took it out of his allowance rather than Gordon’s.

 The sound of the front door broke through his thoughts.

 “Hi Alan.”  The voice echoed up the hallway.  Footsteps approached, only pausing briefly as a kit bag was launched into a room, landing in a corner with a heavy thud.  Too late to salvage anything now, within moments Gordon was in the doorway.  “Hey, you cooked.  Thanks”

 “No need to sound so surprised.  Don’t thank me til you’ve tried it though.  It’s, um, not really gone to plan.”

 “I’m sure it’s fine.  Want me to drain these pans while you get the plates out?”

 Alan signalled his agreement by delving into the crockery cupboard leaving Gordon to drain and stir together the contents of the various pans.  He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the meal but Gordon seemed grateful to be spared the chore.

 Dinner was everything Alan expected it to be.  They sat opposite sides of the kitchen counter, Gordon shovelling down vast quantities of noodles while he picked at his own much smaller portion.  The meat was as dry as cardboard and stuck in his throat alongside the shards of undercooked pasta. Perhaps he ought to pay more attention in the kitchen, especially as Gordon was likely to be training more and more over the coming months.

 Gordon’s fork clattered onto the empty plate before Alan was even half way through.  He looked up to see eyes the colour of mahogany under the harsh kitchen lights looking at him with concern.

 “You ok?  You’ve hardly eaten.”

 “I’m fine.  Just wishing I’d ordered us a pizza instead.”  He waved a forkful of charred chicken to emphasise his point.

 This earned him a small chuckle and at least dispelled the worry.

 “Hey, no complaints from me over it.  I think my coach would have something so say about that too, we’ll save the pizza for the summer.  I’ll start clearing up while you finish off.  You still want that game?”

 Alan grinned.  Suddenly the pasta was a lot easier to stomach if there was a chance to thrash his brother in the goblin realms at the end of it.  

 xoxoxox

 As the clock ticked past midnight and into the small hours of the morning Gordon lay in the darkness, sleep refusing to come.  His normally comfortable bed felt too lumpy and he turned this way and that.  First facing the blank wall next to the bed, then the ceiling and finally the open room. A shelf of trophies glinted faintly in the light that managed to spill around the edges of the heavy blackout curtains.  Back in Kansas Gordon had rarely bothered closing his curtains; he had always been an early riser and was usually up long before the dawn in order to get to early morning training or fit in a gym session before school.  But the pervading yellow glow of the city from the ever present light pollution wasn’t like the peaceful moon.  On nights like this the city felt oppressive and he yearned for the open fields of home, as he still though of Kansas.  Gordon might now be able to access better training facilities and coaches which had enhanced his Olympic prospects but he had never embraced city life.

 He was exhausted.  The training session after school had been intense and he had thrown himself into the drills with maximum effort.  The gaming session had probably been a mistake but he hadn’t wanted to let Alan down.  The kid had gone to the trouble of trying to make dinner and save him a job.  Ok, the noodles had been still firm to the point of being slightly crunchy and the greens had been on the verge of turning to soup but it’s the thought that counts.  It was calories.  It was from his prescribed meal plan.  It was mostly edible.  He appreciated the level of consideration shown by a teenager who shouldn’t have any more pressing concerns than getting his chemistry paper completed and working out whether Ellen from World Studies class had a crush on him.

 His own homework had been its usual slog.  He wrote until his eyes became sticky and the notes he was reading became a jumbled blur.  Sleep should have enveloped him within minutes of climbing into bed but instead the words from his earlier interview kept churning around his head.  The thoughts drowning out even the gnawing ache in his overworked muscles.  

 What about after?

 He had always managed to stave these thoughts off before.  Whenever his father had made comments about future plans he has always managed to deflect the conversations.  He didn’t have room in his head for anything other than visualising the dream.  Why on earth should the words of a complete stranger, parroted from some state approved script, make life any different.

 He was a Tracy.  A name synonymous success and achievement.  He had found his calling in a way that set him apart from the others.  

 He was going to swim.

 He was going to represent his country.

 He was going to win.

 He ran through the visualisation that had been a constant companion in his head for years.  He could feel the flow of the water over his body as his muscles flexed in perfect synchronicity.  He could hear the roar of the crowd as the results flashed up on the scoreboard.  He rode the wave of emotion as the medal was presented.  This was the moment that would mark him out as more than just the fourth son of an astronaut.  Gordon Cooper Tracy.  A name in his own right.

 With the sound of the national anthem still ringing in his ears Gordon tried to visualise the next steps.  He tried to force the dream beyond its current conclusion but instead found only darkness.  

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #high expectations #Gordon Tracy #my art

[missmalice202]

Designing Your Melody: Chapter 04 - Chocolate

Chapter 01 - Chapter 03

“All right, mate?” Luka looks up from his guitar and sees Jagged Stone, rock star extraordinaire, poking his head into the recording studio. “Something’s got your sound all mixed up. So tell me,” he cajoles as he strides into the room, brimming with confidence and larger than life, “what’s got your knickers in a twist, eh?”

Luka stills his fingers and gives his attention the other man now sitting on a stool in front of him. He could literally feel Jagged staring at him, a look of unabashed anticipation on his face. Running his fingers through his teal tipped black hair, he closed his eyes and sighed.

He’d tried not dwell on how utterly frustrated he was. It’s been almost a week since his fateful encounter with his new inspiration, but he’s no closer to finding her. All he has is the mysterious melody playing on an infinite loop in his head and the scrap of paper that he now carries with him everywhere he goes, tucked securely in his jacket pocket. He isn’t sure where to even begin to start looking for the girl. After some serious thought, he contemplated asking Juleka if she would know how to track down a certain fashion designer because if the drawing he had in his possession was any indication, she was obviously very skilled and therefore had to be well known in the fashion industry.

But unfortunately for the guitarist, by the time he had worked up the courage to ask his sister to do some investigating on his behalf, she had been booked for a photoshoot overseas and had left the country. Sometimes he just had the worst luck. Plus, between doing deliveries in the morning and getting some studio time with Jagged to prepare for his next album, he honestly really didn’t have the time to be hunting down a single girl out of the two million residents of Paris. The odds were not in his favor.

In the end, he had resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to wait until Juleka came back and then ask her for help. Until then, the only thing he could do was tweak her melody and keep her design safe. He’s sure their paths will cross again. They had to.

“Nothing has my ‘knickers in a twist’ as you so delicately put it. I’ve just got some stuff on my mind, is all.” His fingers pluck at the strings of his guitar restlessly, the notes contradicting him wordlessly.

“Sorry to tell ya this, bloke, but that guitar of yours is callin’ you a liar. Level with me, man, anything I can do to help a rockin’ musician like yourself out, just let me know. We’ve gotta get that sound of yours back in harmony.”

“Yeah,” Luka responded listlessly, “I know, Jagged. Thanks.”

Luckily, they were interrupted by a knock on the window separating the recording studio from the control booth, signaling that the producer was ready for them to begin their session. The last think Luka wanted was to be interrogated by the flamboyant rocker, regardless of how well meaning he was.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

After their recording session was over, Luka decided to grab something to eat before heading back home to log in and get some grinding done in-game. However, he seemed to have acquired an extremely obnoxious and over-eager shadow.

“I’m telling ya, mate, that’s some of the best playing I’ve heard since I worked with your mum. You could become a superstar if you set your mind to it.” Being ambitious and hungry for attention, someone like Jagged Stone just couldn’t understand that there were some people who preferred to linger in the shadows.

“I’m happy just playing my music, to be honest. I don’t have any grand ambitions of stardom.” A small smile graced Luka’s lips. “I don’t want a record label to try to dictate what I play or how I sound. I don’t mind playing your music because it speaks to my soul, but I want my freedom when it comes to my own music”

Jagged threw his head back and laughed, holding his stomach in mirth. “I feel ya, mate. There’s times I wanna kick some of these record labels prats out on their arses. They have no respect for the artistic process. I can’t just snap my fingers and deliver a chart- topping song. It takes talent and dedication and, most importantly, they gotta feel it in their soul!

“Oh! That reminds me! Penny!” he called over his shoulder at his ever present and long suffering personal assistant, “I want you to send some chocolates or flowers or whatever it is that girls these days like to Marinette. That girl is fabulous and dedicated to her craft and I want her to know how much I appreciate her help.” She nodded, tucking a stray piece of her sleek burgundy hair behind her ear and took out her tablet, tapping a reminder in her notes.

That caught Luka’s undivided attention. The Jagged Stone he knew wasn’t the kind of guy who just gave other people presents. If anything, he expected other people to do things for him, without a seconds hesitation or complaint. For him to go out of his – or rather, his assistant’s – way to offer a gesture of appreciation was, quite frankly, unheard of!

“Who’s this Marinette girl?” he asks. “What did she do for you that was so important that you’d want to send her a gift?”

Jagged reeled back in shock. “Oh, what hasn’t she done for me? Whenever everything goes pear shaped and I’m in a pinch, I know I can count on her to help me out. I mean, one time she made the wicked rock n roll shades for me. Another time, she basically saved my career when she redid my album cover after the bloke who did the first design wouldn’t accept any of my input and came up with this absolutely bonkers cover art. And now this time, she’s really saving my skin. I had to ask a massive favor of her and in such a short amount of time too.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I just want her to know that I appreciate her style and all that fabulous girl does to help me when I’m in a bind.”

Honestly, Luka was a bit surprised. Jagged usually wasn’t one to sing another’s praises, so this “Marinette” girl must really be something special.

Luka looked at his phone to check the time. “Well, Jagged, I’ve got to run. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

“Cheers, mate. I’ll catch you next time.” Jagged saluted the younger guitarist. “Do what you need to in order to fix your sound. It’s doesn’t sound right when it’s all jumbled up like that.”

Luka waved goodbye and left the record label, heading home to his boat.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

When got back to home, the quiet slapping of waves against the hull of the boat was the only sound he heard as he strode across the deck, taking a moment to appreciate the beautiful sunset reflecting over the Seine. It was kind of lonely being the only one on board. He couldn’t wait until his sister got back in a few days. Until then, he’d just have to fill the silence in other ways. Shaking his head at his own melancholy, he ducked into the cabin and made his way to his bunk.

Deciding that he needed to find his center again after such a chaotic week, he toed off his sneakers, settled onto his bunk, crossed his legs and gently rested his wrists on his knees to meditate. Maybe that was why he had been so off lately; he just needed to clear his mind and get rid of the negative energies swirling inside his mind. Taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and relaxed into his meditation.

Thirty minutes later, he opened his eyes feeling refreshed and less off balance.

Glancing at his phone again, he figured he had time to get some gaming in before heading to bed. With any luck, Ladybug would be online too. He liked playing with the rest of his clanmates, don’t get him wrong, but Ladybug was just such a badass. Her skill was unparalleled and when they were in the midst of an intense battle, she took command of the situation and always led their team to victory. She fought with grace and made everything she did look effortless. If he were honest with himself, he just enjoyed being in her company. She had such a sweet voice that even when she was barking out orders on the battlefield, she still sounded as clear as a bell.

After logging on, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that luck, for once, was on his side: she was online. That was a relief, especially considering she’d been MIA all week due to being busing working on whatever project she had going. Deep down, he was a little jealous that “real life” was dragging her away from the UMS4, and therefore away from him. But he did have to admit that it was a bit hypocritical of him to be jealous of her being busy when he was bordering on obsession with finding someone who, if he didn’t currently have her design tucked into the pocket of his jacket, he would have thought that the whole encounter had been an extremely vivid figment of his overactive imagination.

Walking up to her avatar, his own waved in greeting. “Hey, Ladybug. Just you and I tonight, huh?”

Her avatar waved in response. “Hi, Viperion. Looks like it. Want to do some grinding and work on equipment upgrades since we don’t have enough people on our team right now to do any major missions?”

He smiled and his avatar gave a thumbs up gesture. “Sounds good. Let’s go”

As they traversed through their online world, she struck up conversation to fill the silence. “So what have you been up to this week? Anything fun and exciting?”

He chuckled softly. “Not exactly. Just working and practicing. How about you? How’s your project coming along?”

Her groan echoed in his ears, making him laugh under his breath. “Oh god, I’ve been working non stop since I last played with you. Five days, working ‘round the clock without even leaving my house. I’m pretty sure my parents were about to send a search party up to my room to check and see if I was still breathing,” she laughed.

“Oh? You still live with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “We have a very good relationship, so it works out well for us. I help them out with their shop from time to time when I have time and they give me food.”

Luka laughed, shaking his head. Sometimes she really was too cute. “That’s nice. I live with my mom and sister, but they’re out of the country right now, so it’s just me. I never thought I’d think this, but with them gone, it’s too quiet here and the music in my head is a bit overwhelming in the silence.”

There was a brief pause before she responded, “the music in your head?” He could hear the confusion in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve had this song stuck in my head for almost a week now and I can’t get it out of my head until I find what I’m looking for.”

“Uhh- Okaay, I’m not sure what you mean, but I wish you the best of luck finding what you’re looking for.” He heard her yawn audibly through his headphones. “And on that note, I’ve got to go. I have to get up early to help my parents with their shop since I have some time before the next phase of my project.”

A little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend more time with Ladybug, but he understood that she had prior commitments. “All right. Will you be on tomorrow at all? I had fun just messing around with you tonight.”

“I should be able to get on for a few hours tomorrow night. I had fun too,” she admitted. “Well, goodnight, Viperion.”

Smiling softly, he replied, “Sweet dreams, Ladybug.” And logged off himself.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Turning her console off, Marinette plugged her controller into the charge cable and turned off her desk light. Stretching her arms over her head as she walked over to the ladder leading to the loft where her bed was located, she giggled as when she realized that she had learned more about Viperion in that one conversation than she had in the months she had been playing with him since he’d joined “Miraculous Kwami”. She enjoyed playing with him. He was just so calm and collected, completely relaxed even in the most stressful situations. There were many occasions where his level head had really helped keep her calm enough to figure out how to defeat an especially tricky boss. Plus, it didn’t hurt in the slightest that his voice was really hot. Idly, while she changed into her pajamas, she wondered if his face matched his voice.

Shaking her head, she thrust that thought right out of her mind. Online was online and reality was reality. It wouldn’t do to confuse the two. For all she knew, he was a 45 year old bald man with a pot belly and a handlebar moustache. Shuddering at the thought, she shook her head again and made the decision to just leave things as they were. There are just some things that are better of not knowing.

Chapter 05

*Not going to lie, I had a lot of fun writing Jagged Stone. I also tried to stuff in as much British slang as I possibly could while still having it sound relatively natural.

Oh, and if you want to understand a little bit what Luka’s music sounds like when he’s confused and stressed out, this is what I listened to when I wrote the first scene of this chapter.

Until next time Lovelies XOXO*

#lukanette #mlvalentines2k20 #lukanette february #lukanette fic #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous fanfic #fanfiction

[abbye-s]

My Dear Paris

It had been a long day. We had walked long meters all over Paris to that honeyed music anywhere. We ran through the paved streets with that old touch that only this city could have.

The decorations were nothing more than fine appraisals of what life is all about. The bars of the balconies were thin, the legs of the tables were, the old and elegant backs of the chairs in the open-air restaurants were, the irons that built the eiffel tower were even thin ... but those were only perspectives.

Everywhere there was a romantic scent. The touch of air between you and other people was the perfect clash of scents from different worlds in a non-forced encounter. And the way the French blurted out their language melts your ears. They had that very particular way of hissing with their lips making you tickle without even saying anything.

The streets adorned with beautiful flowering trees were even more harmonious at night when the lighthouse next to them illuminated them. In one part they were fully illuminated until they reached the part where the dim light hits them through some leaves.

This city made you shiver both from the height and on its floors. His music made your eyelids flare until they closed and left your body relaxed being moved by the wind. I know it doesn't make sense, but it doesn't have an explanation either.

At all times I felt the need to dance in the streets where no one saw me, and even when everyone did, I wanted to let yourself be carried away by the vibrations that gently moved your body to the beat of that Parisian jazz under the moonlight when it was darkest. be the street.

The most beautiful thing in this city? That no matter where you are, there was always a piece of her flaming around, smelling and sounding like poetry in French caressing your neck causing an incredible feeling of relaxation and peace.

When the night fell we moved a little away from the city with the smell of romantic history and we entered the streets where the moon slept and the stars walked without haste. It was a quiet and beautiful neighborhood a few kilometers from the Eiffel Tower. We stayed in an apartment on the sixth floor. The wonderful and historic old structure of the building gave it that Parisian touch that you have been waiting for when you get off the plane, that touch that even if you try, no place in this world can have ... except the same and beloved Paris.

Away from the big, bustling city we both laughed at a comment he made about how foolish people were to think ill of Paris, as we walked the cobbled streets under the bright light of the moon in its prime and a beacon that it was blinking so fast that it seemed to always be on.

―Belle demoiselle― he said with that beautiful French accent marked perfectly as he released the words from his lips opening the door to the neighborhood. It was actually a neighborhood on the first floor, but the front of it had a few more floors than the rest of the homes in the neighborhood did not have, and that gave it the best virtue in the city.

When I saw this room online, I did not hesitate to rent it. I needed her more than ever in my wasted life.

―Never wait for someone that long until I see you, roseraie― That last hiss meant rosedal, where we met. We both climbed the narrow stairs to my room and the older the structure I knew the more I enjoyed being here smelling that unique smell of humidity and fresh roses with morning bread.

I had brought my record player and yesterday I had bought a couple of vinyl records in the lower part of Paris. So do not hesitate a second and place "La vie en rose" sliding my body to where he was standing. In a blink and with that grasping sensation of his scent, I took him by the shoulders and let him put his hands on my waist as he fell into the culture of those eyes that took you to unbelievable places while you looked at them.

The accordion of the song made an impressive echo in the apartment and I turned off all the lights guiding me by the light of his eyes and that of the window of the twenties that left us a sweet view of the city of Paris with each and every one of their beauties.

―Stand here ― he moved my body behind the sight and I saw him smile ―Now you are part of the beautiful France ― he brushed his thumb on my cheek caressing it and I felt it like velvet, like the tail of a cat dancing on your chin, like a tingle of irresistible emotions. And when he propels my toes up I crash his sweet, hungry lips with mine.

Yes, now it was part of the fantastic France that made you shrink your stomach from all the emotions caused by just walking a very Parisian block.

It was not the city of love or lovers. It was the city of a thousand feelings and the glitters on the moon and the houses. It was the city of the marked language in the whole country.

It was the city of breakfasts and the drops on your face. But more than anything, it was the most unique and enveloping city on the planet.

―Fait à la française avec le poivre de la lune et la saveur de vos lèvres ― I whispered in her ear.

My dear Paris… I will always have a place for you in all my culture and passion.

With love: Your beloved runner of the hundreds of aromas that your territory can give me.

Only me, your only land outside the universe.

This little story is my own completely. I am sorry if there are errors, I want to tell you that I am open to any criticism. I hope you like it as it is something new. With all my love, Abby.

#parisfrance #i love you #love story #light academia #romance #cityoflove #french

[waltzofthewifi]

Alter Ego (Marinette March #10)

Monday

Tikki glanced over Marinette’s shoulder, so Marinette adjusted her position to let Tikki see the webpage. 

“Every year, our entire school votes for winners of certain categories,” Marinette explained. “This year we have ‘Most Likely To Become Famous’, ‘Most Likely To Accidentally Stumble Upon A Million Dollars’ - I’m putting Lila down for that, she’s way too lucky, ‘Most Likely To Successfully Run A Criminal Empire’, ‘Most Likely To Be Ladybug’-”

“That’s not good!” Tikki said.

Marinette gave her kwami a reassuring pat on the head. “Don’t worry, they’re not being serious about it. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be chosen for that. I know Adrien likes to talk about how I’m an everyday Ladybug, but I don’t think anyone actually believes it.”

Tikki hummed doubtfully.

The Previous Monday

Marinette, as always, arrived to class in just the nick of time. 

But even if the bell had yet to ring, she still felt she was late. After all, clearly something had happened to have Alix and Ivan at each others throats. 

“What’s going on?” Marinette asked. 

“Alix crashed into Mylene earlier and broke her arm,” Ivan replied, voice low with anger. 

“It’s not my fault!” Alix yelled back. “She wasn’t looking where she was going either!” “You were on skates,” Ivan replied. “It was your responsibility to look where you were going, but you didn’t.” 

Marinette studied the two. They both looked mad, but in her experience, anger sometimes was just a symptom of another emotion. 

And she knew her friends well enough to guess. 

“Ivan, I know you’re concerned about Mylene, but yelling at Alix isn’t going to fix what already happened,” Marinette interceded. “I can’t say whose fault it was, but Alix cares for Mylene too. If she is at fault here, she probably already knows it. And Alix, I know you probably feel guilty, but if you messed up there’s nothing you can do now but apologize and try to do better next time.”

Ivan deflated first. “You’re right. I think I need to take a walk.”

“A wonderful idea, Ivan,” Bustier commented. 

Ivan still moved with a bit of anger as he went to grab his backpack. The door shut behind him with a bang, but no one commented. 

Alix remained tense. Marinette thought she detected the beginning of tears. 

“Alix, it’s okay if it’s your fault,” Marinette said, putting her hand on Alix’s shoulder. “You made a mistake - everyone does. The important thing is that you learn from it.” Alix didn’t budge, so Marinette added. “No one is judging you for this.” 

That deflated her. “I just - I was so worried I’d hurt her! I mean, badly! I know people who had really bad concussions from that type of collision and I thought I -” 

Alix sniffled, and Marinette opened her arms to her. The two hugged for a few seconds before Alix pulled away. 

“You're right. I need to learn from this - and I will!” 

.

Tuesday

“Okay, so Alya can get Lila’s drink, Alix can get Mylene’s drink, Ivan can get Mylene’s tray, and then Nino and Juleka can split Lila’s tray between the two of them,” Rose deduced as they walked towards the cafeteria. 

“I can get something,” Mylene argued. “Only one of my arms are broken.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that!” Rose replied. 

Alya’s phone beeped, and she peaked at the screen. “Guys, wait up - Marinette said to meet her back in Bustier’s room. She has a treat for us!” 

“Oh, I hope she brought something from her bakery,” Nino said.

“Me too,” Mylene said wistfully. 

It was a short walk back to the classroom, and the class was greeted by a delicious smell. 

“Forget pastry treats, she brought a whole lunch!” Alix said. 

Marinette greeted them. “Hey everyone! So I thought everyone could use a little cheering up after yesterday, and since I was stuck at home during that akuma attack and all, I thought it might be nice to arrange a lunch for us.”

“Marinette, you’re so nice!” Rose commented. 

“Yeah, and now we don’t have to worry about getting Lila’s and Mylene’s food,” Alix commented. 

“Thanks girl,” Alya said. “You really know how to cheer us up. 

.

Marinette was about halfway down the steps when she heard the sniffly. 

Marc.

She poked her head under the stairs, and, sure enough, Marc was sitting, looking near tears. 

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked. 

“Nothing!” Marc replied. “I just-” he sniffled again. “I got some nasty comments online about my writing, and it-”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Marinette said when he trailed off. She sat down next to her. 

“They said what I was writing was wrong, because I had one of the characters go through a fight with his parents or... or something like that, I don’t know, but it was based off of real life, and I-” Marc sniffled. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m projecting onto my characters too much.”

“Well, first of all, I read that chapter and it was amazing,” Marinette replied. “I’ve never had a fight with my parents like that, and yet I could still feel what it must have felt like. I get that such a topic is probably triggering to a lot of people, but you put a content warning and everything!

“And second of all, there is nothing wrong with projecting. I do it all the time in my designing! It’s a lot harder to tell, obviously, but when I’m looking over old designs, I can almost always tell which ones I drew when having a bad day, or when I’m angry. I found one with a lot of spikes and sharp lines and went, ‘yep, I remember what Chloe said to me that day that made me draw this.’”

“So you’re saying it’s natural?”

“Of course. Our emotions and our experiences inform who we are, and what we create. We have to use some control, of course, but I think how you use it is great! Some of my favorite stories have so-called ‘self-inserts’. Besides, you’re not the one going around insulting people online, so you are definitely not in the wrong for this situation.” 

Marc nodded. “Thanks. I feel a little better now.”

.

Wednesday

Mylene smiled at her cast. “Wow, you two are so talented!”

Nathaniel blushed, and Marinette smiled. 

“I feel a lot better about it now,” Mylene said. “You really know how to brighten someone’s day, Marinette!”

.

“It’s so ugly!” Alya complained, spinning in a circle to show off her bridesmaid’s dress to Marinette and Nino, who were sitting on the couch in her living room.

Marinette had been summoned about half an hour ago by Alya’s mom, saying Alya was “near hysterics” and needed someone to calm her down. Preferably, someone’s who fashion sense “she actually trusted”, and couldn’t use the “your my mom you’re supposed to say I look good card” on. She had originally called Nino, but then Alya had played the “your my boyfriend you’re supposed to say I look good” card immediately. 

It made Marinette think being honest was the best way to go. 

“Of course it is!” Marinette replied. “It doesn’t fit. It’s way too big in the chest.”

“But I couldn’t take anything smaller in the hips,” Alya complained. 

“That’s okay,” Marinette said, standing up. “After all, what’s the point in having a designer for a best friend if she can’t fix a dress for you.”

“You’ll fix it for me?” Alya asked. 

“Of course,” Marinette replied. “If you pull it a little tighter hear, maybe pull the neckline up a little-”

“Yes please,” Marlene cut in. 

“And then loosen it around the hips, it will look fabulous on you,” Marinette finished. “I’d have to find a fabric really similar to this, but it shouldn’t be hard.” 

“I’ll pay you back!” Alya said, almost desperately. 

“No you won’t,” Marinette decided. “When is this needed by?” 

“The wedding’s in a month,” Marlene supplied. 

“I should have time to do it by then,” Marinette confirmed. 

Alya spun and enveloped Marinette in a bear hug. “Oh, thank you girl!” 

.

Thursday

Marinette spent lunch break at the Liberty, holed up in the practice room working on sketches for the album cover she had been asked to design. 

After about half an hour, Juleka and Rose peaked in to see how she was doing. Marinette happily showed them what she was working on. 

“This is my favorite,” Marinette said. “Penny sent me the photo from the last performance. The lighting isn’t good, and if we decided to go with it, we’ll probably retake it, but it’s great for inspiration. I think we can work out the colors of the outfits a little better too - Juleka, I have this brilliant purple jacket I think you will love-”

“Thank you Marinette for doing all of this!” Rose said. 

“It’s no big deal,” Marinette replied. “Especially since Penny arranged for me to be officially commissioned and paid like I was when I did Jagged’s album.”

“You’re amazing,” Rose continued. 

“No, you’re amazing,” Marinette countered. “I’m just here to support you guys.” 

“Shut up and take the compliment, Marinette,” Juleka said, just loud enough to be heard. 

“You are wonderful,” Rose said. “And you better believe it, too.”

.

Marinette spotted the girl crying in the locker rooms when she left the bathroom after detransforming. 

“Are you okay?” Marinette asked, sitting down next to the girl. 

The girl nodded. “Yeah, I just - yeah, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look it,” Marinette replied. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” the girl answered. “It’s just - my boyfriend broke up with me, and he did it over text and I - I just -”

“Over text! How rude,” Marinette sympathized. 

The girl chuckled. “Yeah, definitely. I guess I wasn’t worth his time.”

“Sounds like he’s not worth your time,” Marinette replied. 

The girl shook her head. “You don’t know me. Trust me, I was lucky he even paid attention to me in the first place.”

“Well, maybe I want to know you,” Marinette said. “I’m Marinette.”

“Liz.”

“Nice to meet you Liz,” Marinette said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Don’t you have to be in class?” Liz questioned.

“Eh, my attendance record is already bad,” Marinette said. “Nothing I can do to make it worse.”

Liz chuckled. “Alright then. Well, it started last year when-”

.

Friday

“Your dad can’t be serious,” Nino complained. 

“He is,” Adrien replied. “I’m sorry for having to bail - I was really looking forward to tonight.”

“It’s not your fault,” Marinette argued. 

“Yeah, your dad needs to calm down,” Alya added. 

Adrien said goodbye and headed down to his limo. Marinette felt something in the back of her brain, nudging her to do something, but she couldn’t figure out what. 

Adrien was about halfway down to the car when inspiration hit. 

“Wait!” Marinette raced down the stairs and to the car, where Nathalie was waiting for him. “Hi, I’m Marinette.”

“We’ve met,” Nathalie replied.  “Well, as you know, we really wanted Adrien to study with us tonight,” Marinette said. “But the truth is, I was actually wanting his help with something else - you see, I was invited to help design a suit for this big gala happening at the hotel in June-”

“You were invited to design for the Summer Gala?” Nathalie questioned, just as Adrien walked up next to Marinette. 

“Yes,” Marinette confirmed. “And I was hoping Adrien could help me, since he’s been to something similar-”

“Well, tonight he is definitely unavailable,” Nathalie said. She checked her tablet. “But next Tuesday he should be available. I can schedule for him to join your study group for you, and this time we should have more luck keeping his schedule clear.”

“Really?” Adrien asked. “Thanks Nathalie!”

“Of course,” Nathalie replied.

.

Saturday

“Thank you for coming into school on a Saturday,” Bustier said to Marinette and Alya as they arrived. 

“No problem,” Alya replied. “After all, this is a big deal! The school needs a much better kept ramp for students who can’t use the steps, and if this is our chance to make that happen, then I’m all aboard.”

“Me too,” Marinette said. “Alya has my full support.”

“Lately it feels like you’ve been supporting me,” Alya replied. 

“This was your idea,” Marinette said. “And you were the one to get permission to do a fundraiser.”

“Yes, but only because you were willing to organize the bake sale for us!” Alya said. “Not to mention the posters you designed! And the extra help you recruited. With so many students, this is sure to be a success. Especially now that we’ll have reporters coming. The school will be forced to uphold their end of the deal.”

“Both of you have put so much work into this project!” Bustier said. “I”m so proud of you both!”

.

Sunday

“Thanks for coming over on such short notice,” Mylene’s dad said, letting Marinette in. “I don’t know what set her off, but I think it’s a girl thing.”

Marinette nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to calm her down.”

She had visited the Haprele’s apartment enough times to know which room was Mylene’s, and she knocked lightly on the door. 

“Mylene? Can I come in?” 

Mylene muttered something that sounded like a yes, and Marinette slowly entered her room. 

The room was a mess. Mylene was curled up on her bed, sniffled into her knees. She looked up with teary eyes as Marinette entered the room. 

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

“I misplaced the pin Ivan gave me,” Mylene sniffled.

It seemed so minor, Marinette knew something else was up. When Mylene hesitated for a moment, grimacing with pain, Marinette knew the what. 

“Cramps again?” Marinette questioned. “How about I get you some midol?” 

Mylene shook her head. “Just took some.” 

“Okay then,” Marinette said. She thought for a moment. “I’m going to call my mom and have her bring over some macaroons for us.” 

“Oh, please!” Mylene said. “I’ve been craving chocolate for decades.” 

“I’ll make sure she brings lots of chocolate,” Marinette confirmed. “And then I’ll help you clean up your room.” 

“And help me find the pin?”

“I’ll help you find the pin,” Marinette said. “I”m sure it’s around here somewhere.” 

Monday

“I’m going to put Alya down for Ladybug,” Marinette decided. “I bet she’ll be chosen.” 

“Maybe,” Tikki agreed. 

But probably not. 

#marinette dupain-cheng #marinette march #fanfiction #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #my writing #my fanfiction #unedited #period #mentions of periods #mentions of broken bones

[scribeofmorpheus]

Safe by My Side

Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader

For the SPOOKTOBER 2018 Competition

Requested by @smallmarvel : For your Halloween fic celebration, could I request a little Dean Winchester x reader where they go to a haunted house and Dean is acting all cool but one of the jump-scares get him? And the reader ends up "protecting" him in the haunted house even though Dean said it'd be the other way around.

Words: 3167

Warnings: Playful teasing, uhhh??? Maybe pining? Maybe?

A/N:  I wanted the reader to have this playful (almost flirtatious) banter between herself and Dean and I’m not sure if I succeeded but I loved making Cas pop out of nowhere and trying to make it a little more outrageous each time. I sorta changed up the jump scare bit, but it still kinda counts. I haven’t written anything Dean-centric in years so I may be rusty, this was written with the younger, less tortured Dean in mind.

The younger Winchester brother had dark circles under his eyes and was buried beneath a mound of papers and books. He looked exhausted.

"According to the news reports, several people were found dead after visiting a Haunted House attraction in Iowa. Eyewitnesses say they all just collapsed and turned pale. The current theory is that they all suffered from cardiac arrest," Sam informs you and Dean about the latest string of strange deaths that caught his attention. "Which is odd because all the victims seemed perfectly healthy."

Dean offered a cup of coffee to Sam -who accepted it graciously- before he took a sip from his own steaming cup, he looked far more rested than Sam, although you could tell he too was not at his best because he had let his scruff grow out more than usual. You had opted for tea that morning in fear of having a caffeine overdose -your hands were shaking plenty as it was.

"Young, healthy people suddenly dying of heart attacks… sound familiar to you?" Dean quirked a brow at his brother, undoubtedly a reference to a previous case they had worked. "We thinking Reapers again?"

Sam simply shook his head, "Official reports said heart attack, but have you ever seen a heart attack do this?"

Sam pointed at his computer screen and both you and Dean leaned in closer to get a better picture. An image of one of the victims was on display on an online forum run by fans of the occult. The image showed a young man, skin drained of almost all colour, his eyes red and hair a ghostly shade of white. A look of pure horror frozen onto his face as his lips were permanently set in a forever scream.

"Yikes," was all Dean said.

"Yikes indeed, which also means cause of death is not a heart attack or a Reaper."

"Wait, so what you're saying is that this demon or whatever it is, is literally scaring people to death?" You asked, slightly ruffled by the idea of being scared to death. Chills, unwelcomed, crawled up your spine and caused gooseflesh to spread over your skin.

Dean noticed you shiver slightly. His cheeky smile was obscured by his coffee mug.

"Don't worry Y/N, I'll keep you safe," he nudged you playfully with his elbow, and despite the teasing tone, you noticed a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes and let out a soft sigh, serving out your signature blend of exasperation and sarcasm. You tried really hard to hide the small smile that tugged at your face muscles but being around Dean always made you feel more vulnerable, exposed. It also made it so you'd have to constantly fight off the blush in your cheeks and the dazzled glint in your eyes every time you were close to him.

You had been an ally to the Winchester brothers for going on two years, and even though you and Dean had undeniable chemistry (like two magnets pushing and pulling against each other), neither of you dared explore it further.

They were hunters and, even though it wasn't by choice, so were you. Besides, Hunters rarely got their happily ever after. And in all honesty, you weren't sure you'd be able to survive it if anything ever happened to Dean while you guys were together.

"The mighty Dean Winchester, my hero..." you teased him back after you managed to compose yourself.

The two of you held eye contact for a while until Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, making you jump a little as you took a seat next to him to look over several newspaper articles on his laptop. An article headline revealed that the house attraction was located on carnival grounds.

"Oh, Sammy-boy, carnivals. Best keep you away from those clowns," you joked.

Sam smiled a little before putting on a serious face, "Please, stop calling me Sammy-boy."

"Not a chance!" you wiggled your brows playfully as you took another sip of your tea.

"The day Y/N stops calling you Sammy-boy, is the day Dean gives up pie," Cas chimed in nonchalantly from the upper floor of the bunker. You and the boys gasped from freight, not expecting Cas to pop out of nowhere like he always does.

"Jesus, Cas! We talked about this. If you keep on popping out of thin air unannounced I'm going to have to put a little bell on your neck so we know when you're around!" You lectured the adorable trench coat wearing angel. He gave you a confused and apologetic look.

"Where would you find a bell large enough? I apologise, Y/N, I simply came here for this book," he held up a book he previously didn't have in his hands and without a word of warning, he blinked back out of sight.

"Oh, and one more thing," Cas popped back in front of you. "Hold onto this for me." He handed you a small ancient looking pendant and then disappeared again.

"Sure," you replied to thin air. "Aaand he's gone."

"Well, that was a very insightful visit..." Sam deadpanned.

"So, everyone up for a road trip to Iowa?" Dean tossed the keys to the Impala gently in one hand.

Sam grumbled, obviously not too keen about the prospect of running into clowns, especially since it was the Halloween weekend. You, on the other hand, were slightly more optimistic. You got to solve a case and celebrate Halloween with two out of three of your favourite people, Cas was away handling 'angel duties' as he had put it. You hadn't seen him in one place for longer than 5 minutes in almost two weeks.

***

When you finally arrived in Iowa and got settled into a quaint but minimalistic motel, you and the boys decided to go to a diner to get something to eat.

"So what's the plan?" You asked as you watched Dean stuff his face with the most outrageously sized burger you had ever seen while Sam gulped down his first cup of coffee of the day.

"Well I was planning on doing some more research at the motel," Sam informed you.

You smiled into your coffee cup, stifling your laugh before it could surface. Sam rose an eyebrow at you while he moved his salad about with his fork.

"What?" He asked feeling a little self-conscious.

"Afraid of running into any clowns, Sammy-boy?"

Dean smiled like a smug squirrel with cheeks full of food at your jab.

"No, just afraid of being stuck with the two of you while you trade flirtatious banter."

Dean choked on his food and your eyes went wide as a blush spread across your face.

“Well that sure as hell shut you up,” Sam leered with delight at his quip.

Once Dean finished with his burger he added: "So I guess that means you and I are going monster hunting."

You turned to him with some alarm in your expression, "Wait… but we don't know anything about this monster. Or how to kill it. If we even can kill it!" You whisper shouted.

Dean rose one brow and tilted his head with a suggestive smirk, "Don't worry. I promised to keep you safe, didn't I?"

You leaned closer to him, "Dean Winchester, my knight in shining armour." You teased

Sam groaned into his coffee.

"Oh, brother..." He whispered before looking towards a waitress and saying: "Check please."

***

"So what's the plan?" You asked Dean as you made your way towards the haunted house.

"I was kinda just going for See monster: attack it."

You shook your head, "Not a plan for that. A plan for that." You pointed at the flashing lights blinding patrons from the windows, blaring otherworldly recordings of screams and cackles next to dozens of paying visitors dressed in costumes of all shapes and sizes.

Finding the real monster on an ordinary occasion would be difficult as is since you didn't know what it looked like, but with the added difficulty of everyone being disguised, that elevated things to near impossible. Not to mention the obvious jump scare attractions and disorienting lights and sounds blaring from the PA system.

Having a third pair of eyes would have been beneficial, but Sam doing research was equally important if you wanted to figure out how to kill this monster.

You unknowingly huffed with exasperation, not looking forward to the cat and mouse act that was undoubtedly going to play out.

Dean didn't seem as bothered by all the potential problems that could arise and simply gave you a nonchalant shrug. "Well in that case, how about: hear a scream, run in that general direction?"

You clapped sarcastically, "Bravo, good to know we're all in good hands."

"Oh, you wish you knew how good these hands were," Dean winked.

You gasped before playfully jabbing his side, making him clutch his side with a coughing laugh, "Ow, your elbow is so sharp… and bony."

“It’s sharpened by years of having to listen to your terrible excuse for wit, Winchester.”

“Wow, Y/N! You wound me?” He placed his hand on his heart dramatically.

“Come on Romeo,” you shook your head at his theatrics. Dean was always more playful around you. You loved that feeling, knowing you brought out a side of him people rarely saw.

As you made your way through the entrance a glum-looking attendant stopped you with a cardboard Stop sign.

"Fifteen dollar entrance fee beyond this point. Halloween special weekend requires patrons to be in costume for free entry." He delivered his lines in a very drowsy monotone, clearly unhappy at his current employment.

"Fifteen dollars?" Dean barked in disbelief, his mouth agape when he looked at you with shock.

"I've got this," you whispered to Dean as you sauntered over to the attending clerk and gave him a heart-melting smile. The clerk didn't look up from his desk so you cleared your throat. He finally looked up, his face caught off guard by the charming smile you had on.

"My friend and I didn't know we had to wear costumes, you think you could, maybe, let it slip... Just this once?" You flipped your hair. When he looked like he wasn't going to budge, you leaned closer and dragged your finger against his name tag. "Please Chad. It would mean the world to me!"

"I'm not supposed to… Company policy," he shrugged apologetically.

You leaned closer and whispered as though you were conspirators, "Aww, come on Chad. I'd be really grateful."

The clerk blushed and stammered a bit, "I- I wish I could but..." He averted his gaze, too shy to look you in the eye for too long.

Dean grumbled disapproving beside you, it sounded a little jealous to your ears. You would be lying if you said that didn't make you feel a little wily

You over exaggerated your pout. Then you saw a stack of name tags laying on his desk. "Hey, can I borrow those?" You pointed at the stack of name tags.

"S-sure..." he handed them to you.

"And a pen?" You batted your eyes innocently. Chad handed you his pen.

You jotted down two names and stuck them on your and Dean's jackets. Yours said 'God' and Dean's said 'Lucifer'.

Dean just gave you a very unimpressed look and you simply wiggled your eyebrows, "What? Too soon?" You joked.

You turned back to the attendant, "Now we're in costume."

The clerk looked between you and Dean and then back to the name tag stuck to your left breast pocket of your jacket, "I guess that counts."

"Thanks, Chad!" You winked gleefully as you made your way into the haunted house.

You heard the clerk whisper something to himself and then Dean cleared his throat and said, "Hey, Chad, eyes back on your magazine pal."

You beamed at his overprotective streak.

***

As you searched the house, slightly tense with anticipation of some sort of scream or attack, you and Dean made small talk as you walked from one overly dramatized room to the next.

"So, you and Chad were chummy. You gonna ask him out on a date? Maybe hunt a poltergeist." Dean huffed, pretending he wasn't jealous.

"No, definitely not." You said straight-faced. Dean's green eyes lit up as a smile danced across his lips. "Vampires are more appropriate for first dates!"

Dean's smile faltered and his ears turned red slightly. You snickered.

You twirled to stand in front of him, "Oh please, Dean Winchester. You know I only have eyes for you." You jabbed, imitating your flirtatious eyelash bat from before.

Dean sighed as he ran his hands through his well-maintained scruff, but then he saw something that made him grin. With curiosity, you turned around and yelped with sudden freight.

"Fuck!" You gasped as a giant animatronic scarecrow looked down upon you.

Dean laughed, holding his sides. "You should see your face."

You punched him playfully, "Jerk! You know I hate scarecrows!"

Dean parried your playful punches and ended up griping you cross-armed against his chest. He didn't notice how tightly your back was pressed to his chest until he felt your body move along with the resounding vibrato from his deep laughs.

He let you go and cleared his throat, his hands unsure of whether to stuff themselves in his jeans or his leather jacket. You wiped the awestruck look from your face and tried to let the smell of the smoke machine wash his musk away from your brain. It was futile. You tried to return to your playful demeanour from before.

"Come on, Mr Funny Guy. Let’s go before I beat you to death with this guy’s robotic arms," you pointed to the scarecrow, making sure your eyes didn't land on its face.

"I'm shaking in my boots."

You scowled at him in faux anger and he shrunk his neck and held up his hands.

"Ladies first," you urged him to open the door.

Dean complied and as soon as the door swung open, a creepy 6 foot Easter bunny with different sized red eyes and blood-stained teeth popped from its hidden trigger switch -a bloodied fake knife in one hand.

Dean laughed at the jump scare and turned to give you a triumphant look. As soon as he did he shouted, "Jesus, Cas!" as he stumbled onto the floor from surprise.

Cas was practically covered from head to toe in black ooze. His clothes partially singed and his torso home to two daggers.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked from the floor.

"Hell happened," he said monotonously before turning to you and asking, "Do you still have that pendant?"

"Yeah," you fished it out from around your neck and handed it to him.

"Thank you. Oh and be careful, I'm pretty sure the only thing that can kill your monster is a ceremony dagger blessed by a witch doctor steeped in alligator blood."

"Alligator blood?" You asked. "Where would we get--"

Cas pulled out a 9-inch knife and handed it to you.

"Thank Sam," was all Cas offered in response before blinking out of existence.

You waltzed over and kneeled next to him, offering your hand. "Don't worry Dean, I'll keep you safe from the big, bad killer Easter bunny… Oh, and the harmless trench coat wearing angel too."

Dean tried to hide his smile when he picked up the irony of your words, but you saw it nonetheless. He accepted your hand, but before you could help him to his feet he pulled you down towards him and cupped your face close to his. And after a tantalisingly long pause, he kissed you passionately, knocking the air right out of your lungs. When your kiss broke your lips were partially kiss-swollen and your face had a blank expression. He had literally rendered you speechless.

"So that's what that’s like," He said hoarsely.

"What?" You asked in a splendorous daze, your whole body tingling.

Dean smirked, "A moment of quiet."

You were snapped out of your moment of elation by his retort and scowled at him again, slapping his chest as you untangled yourself from his strong arms.

"Oof!" He protested.

"Ha ha, Winchester," you helped him off the ground. 

When you were standing close together again the both of you tried to hide your blush when it dawned on you both what just happened. You both stepped away from each other clumsily, averting your eyes from each other's faces.

"We've got some hunting to do." You said frantically as you practically shoved the knife at him, storming ahead as you tried to shake the memory of what just happened away.

After some uncomfortable silence, Dean tried to lighten the mood again, "Are you blushing under that scowl?"

You rolled your eyes, "Say's the guy who was jealous of Chad!"

"I wasn't jealous of Chad!" He denied your allegation childishly, waving the sharp knife around dangerously causing you to bob around the knife.

"You know, I don't know how I feel about someone as jumpy as you swinging that sword around."

"It's not a sword and I'm not jumpy!" He waved the dagger again causing you to duck this time.

"I dunno, at this point I feel like I'd be safer with Sam by side. Clown phobia and all!" You quipped.

"Yeah, unless our monsters happened to look like scarecrows or clowns, or both!" He retorted. “Clownish Scarecrows! Ooh, Scarecrow Clowns! Wouldn’t that be something?”

You sighed and turned to Dean. Leaning close to him so he let his guard down. He stalled for a moment, unsure of what you were about to do.

The energy between the two of you had shifted, become more electrified now that you both knew what kissing the other felt like. Your toes were still tingling, but now wasn't the place to address his rash actions and your equally rash acceptance of them. When your lips were merely a hairsbreadth away, you snatched the giant knife and used his weight to flip him onto his back.

"Nevertheless, I still think it'd be better if I took over the role of the knight in shining armour." You said sweetly while he grunted from the impact of the fall.

"You know, it may be nice to be the damsel in distress for once," Dean joked as he picked himself up.

"Shall we?" He asked.

"After you." You replied.

***

After that night, you and Dean had found it increasingly easier to share more quiet moments together, much to Sam’s chagrin since he usually had to deal with your blatant flirting and innuendos while he was around. Cas just found the whole situation confusing.

MasterList

#Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x reader #Supernatural imagine #Spn fic #spn imagine #reader insert #spooktober #one shot #fic request #scribescribbles #supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester imagine

[mashitandsmashit]

America’s Got Talent: Season 14 - Quarter-Finals 1

Tonight, Terry Crews finally got a chance to host a live show, and he is already making an impression as strong as his muscles!

As for the acts, well, while I suppose I would have liked just a LITTLE more variety between all the singers, I think everyone had something enjoyable to offer...So to me, this was a pretty good show all things considered!

And now for the tricky part: Weighing each act’s pros, cons and overall experience...

12: Ansley Burns. I left a critical yet constructive comment on her video. Honestly, all of the problems she’s faced before still appear to be on full display: Her voice got drowned out by the band, and she still isn’t up to par with pretty much any of the other singers that made the lives (except maybe GFORCE, but I’ll get to them in a bit...) But hey, if there’s one thing that’s kept me from COMPLETELY hating her, it’s her energy and stage presence, and she has shown plenty of both of those things tonight! While the judges seemed to consider her one of the best of the night, she’s getting a much less warm reception on Youtube, so it’s hard to know where she’ll place tomorrow...

11: Carmen Carter. Indeed, this wasn’t the best song choice for her, but I guess it was a slightly different take on the song...She still sounded quite good, and there was plenty of energy like before...But I would still say she put on a better show in the previous round!

10: Luke Islam. I do like this kid, and have no issue with him advancing...Buuuuuut, this was a little forgettable...His voice is still very much there (though he might have had a shaky start), but this performance won’t really stick with me...And did anyone else feel a little seasick seeing him stand behind that slanted light? It looked like he was on the sinking Titanic and had some magic shoes that prevented him from tumbling off into the icy sea!

9: GFORCE. And here’s the theme song to their TV show...COMING TO THE DISNEY CHANNEL! ...Or Nickelodeon? I still had fun with them, but each song they perform gets a little weaker than the last, so I understand if not everyone’s feeling the girl power...

8: Voices of Service. Pretty solid performance, and the choir added to it...But you could just FEEL the obnoxious patriotism oozing from them! Also, it feels like a crime not to let the lady lead more in the vocals...

7: Bir Khalsa. I usually prefer my sideshow acts with a little more tossing, flipping, etc. But the tricks were pretty intense, and the Bollywood music playing in the background (I can hear the singer singing their name, so is it their theme song?) had me adding a little dance to my cringing! That said, the new guy’s constant screaming got a little annoying...

6: Messoudi Brothers. Throughout the previous round, I’ve been thinking to myself, “Man, Simon is actually coming off more like the tough judge he was always known as...I almost can’t remember why I hated him so much over the last few seasons...” And then when he made his comment after this performance (as well as Alex Dowis’, and ooohhh, we’ll get to that REAL soon!), I was like, “Oh, yeah! That’s why!” Like, does he even have a single clue what he’s talking about!? Is he trying to sabotage these acts with his little nitpicks!? Probably...Either way, while this didn’t quite live up to the CRAZINESS that was their Judge Cuts performance, there were still a few formations in there that impressed me! But honestly, they don’t need to keep taking their shirts off; Kinda slows the act down...If they REALLY have to woo the ladies, they can just have the shirts off from the start...Though maybe they’ll take their pants off partway through, I dunno...

5: Emerald Belles. Looks like they averted Howie’s nitpicks! And what’s more, they stepped up the moves quite a bit! I think they just gave their odds a 180 with this performance!

4: Sophie Pecora. I can see that not everyone’s a fan of this girl, but she has been slowly growing on me. This was probably her best song so far, and we even got a little bonus song with the opening package!

3: Greg Morton. Looks like he still has more movies to reenact, instead of the cartoon-themed set I was hoping for...But no matter, it’s all very entertaining, and I’d say this set flowed the best between all of the voices he did! Best performance from him so far! Of course, the REAL winner of the night was his “Pac-Man” suit!

2: Alex Dowis. Seriously, what is Simon talking about!? “It felt like something at a museum”!? And...the last one DIDN’T!? No, I disagree with him completely! Everything flowed together seamlessly, the artwork, the transitions, the effects, the narrative, it was all breathtaking! I really hope the voters are willing to look past his nitpicks and vote for this guy, because this was everything I could ask for from an act like this!

1: Kodi Lee. Okay, Kodi...You got me! This is why you’re gonna win this season!

So yeah, for a night with more than half of the acts being singers, I’d say it went relatively well! I guess I can’t expect tomorrow to be TOO rage-inducing if there’s at least a case to be made for everyone...Still, maybe just a COUPLE non-singing acts advancing tomorrow? ...Pretty please?

My Votes: So it looks like they did away with voting via phone number...Either that, or something’s wrong with the line...But if the former is true, than it probably is for the best since I do get pretty sick of hearing “Thanks for voting for Talent [#], only your first ten votes blah, blah, blah...” ten to twenty times every Tuesday night...(Though maybe they’re still recording Terry saying those lines...) Also, with the other methods, it does feel redundant, other than to give voters more room to abuse the system...So whatever, I voted with the other three things (TV, online and phone app), and gave a total of thirty votes each to Greg Morton, Alex Dowis, Bir Khalsa and Messoudi Brothers...Gotta try to get SOME non-singing acts in there, right?

Result Predictions: If Kodi was any more of a lock, he would be Fort Knox! Luke and VoS look safe as well...And I might even say that Emerald Belles has a shot, what with all of those factors I brought up in my predictions last week, plus the fact that Howie DIDN’T hate them this time! Then we have acts that are tough to call, like Greg, Ansley, Sophie, Alex and Messoudi...Either way, I’m thinking Carmen, GFORCE and Bir Khalsa will probably be the bottom three...

Tomorrow, a WHOLE bunch of old friends return, including last year’s winner and my personal favorite act of that season!