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engie-ivy · 3 years

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do you have a fic where remus confronts Sirius of believing he was the spy (like maybe canon divergence - they all live) and refuses to agree that just because there was a war doesn’t mean he should’ve not trusted him or used the excuse that he’s a werewolf not to believe him

Hi!

I have fics that deal with the suspicions and false accusations during the war! But these do take on a more Fluffy path, and eventually lead to them being understanding and forgiving of each other's behaviour😅

You might like the confrontation in

If Tomorrow the World Crumbles

“Well, what am I supposed to bloody think, then?” Sirius shouted back. “You’re obviously keeping things from me! How is this sketchy behaviour going to make anything better? Why couldn’t you just come talk to me, so you could have proven that you’re not-”

“Because I shouldn’t have to proof anything to you!” A hint of pain was seeping through in Remus’s frustration. “All my life I’ve had to proof myself to everyone, and all my life I’ll have to continue proving myself, simply because of what I am, but not to you. Never to you. You’re supposed to believe in me! You’re the one person who’s supposed to be on my side.”

And here's an excerpt from my longer fic

If Only You Knew the Whole Story

He’s sitting in a chair. His arms are handcuffed behind his back and his ankles are chained to the legs of the chair. Protective spells are placed around him, making it impossible to come any closer than half a meter in his vicinity, though there isn’t much he could even do without his wand. His long, dark hair is tied in a messy bun with loose strands falling over his face, and he still has the muggle clothes on he was wearing when he got arrested.

He’d been wearing muggle clothes a lot. When James teased him about it, he told him to go try and ride a motorbike in flapping wizarding robes and then come talk to him. No one particularly minded seeing him in tight fitted muggle clothes anyway, as the man has always been unfairly good-looking.

He looks up as Emmeline enters the room, his grey eyes empty and emotionless.

Sirius Black.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. You seemed rather pissed off when you left the last time.”

“I’m pissed off at you by default. But I did some fact-checking on your previous claims.”

Black rolls his eyes. “If you looked him up in the Animagus register, I could have told you-”

“Actually, I went to a more direct source.”

“Hello, Black.” Remus steps in the room, his eyes focused somewhere on the logo on Black’s worn-out band shirt, deliberately not meeting Black’s eyes, his mask of indifference firmly in place. Emmeline understands his need to not show any emotion in front of Black.

Black’s face, on the other hand, is a whole different story. It’s hard to imagine his eyes were so void of emotion just a moment ago, as a variety of emotions passes over his face.

Disbelief. Hope. Fear. Guilt. Pain.

When he speak, soft and barely audible, his voice sounds so broken that it sends a shock through Emmeline’s body. She can tell Remus feels the same, as his eyes snap up to Black’s face.

“Remus? Please...”

“I messed up, Remus. I messed up so bad. But if only you knew the whole story-”

“You’re going to tell me the whole story,” Remus interrupts, his voice cold and bitter. “The real story.” He opens his palm to reveal the small flask of Veritaserum.

Now, Emmeline was expecting anger. Anger as Black would realise he wouldn’t be able to make up stories anymore. Anger as he saw his plans of manipulating Remus with his lies go up in smoke. Emmeline may have understood shock, that they would actually dare to force him to take the truth potion, or maybe even panic, now that his ploy is officially over.

What Emmeline did not expect, however, was the look of sheer hope on Black’s face, like he’s a dehydrated man who has been wandering the dessert for days and Remus is holding a glass of fresh, cold water.

“Yes,” he says pleading. “Yes, please...”

It completely catches Emmeline off guard, and she can tell Remus is also thrown off. He stares at Black dumbfounded and seems unsure what to do next. He fumbles with the flask, opening it and sliding it across the table towards Black.

As they can’t get near Black with the protective charms surrounding him, Emmeline doesn’t know what they would have done of he had simply refused to drink the potion, but then again, that would have said enough of itself, wouldn’t it? Now, however, Black wastes no time in bending forward, taking the flask between his lips and throwing his head back, gulping the potion down.

After Black has dropped the empty bottle back on the table, he sits motionless in his chair, his eyes closed. Remus is staring at him intently, his mouth in a hard line and his knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the edge of the table. The moment can’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Despite all her talk about only doing this for Remus, not believing anything will come of it, Emmeline feels nerves coursing through her body. There’s a heavy tension hanging in the room and the air feels thick. Emmeline can only imagine what this moment must be like for Remus.

After what seems like hours, Black slowly opens his eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

So few words hardly more than a whisper, but their impact couldn’t have been greater if he had shouted them in their faces.

Remus’s legs threaten to give out from under him and he supports himself on the table, staring at the wood while gasping for air.

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me.” Black repeats the words like a mantra.

Remus lifts his head, and upon seeing the pain, hope and confusion on his face, Emmeline wants to run to him, support him and start questioning Black, but at the same time she feels like she needs to stay out of it for now, this needs to be between them.

“What wasn’t you?” Remus breathes. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Everything. Any of it. The murders, the betrayal. Rem, I wasn’t even the Secret-Keeper!”

“But... But...” Remus tries desperately to order his thoughts. “Peter?”

Black nods silently.

Remus shakes his head. “No, no. James insisted! He would never choose anyone but you!”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Black replies as he shifts his gaze downwards, sadness reflecting in his eyes. “Not until I convinced him to. Merlin, I thought I was so clever! A perfect way to throw them off track. Who would even consider it being anyone else?”

“But you told me it was you! Those evenings we spent talking about it...”

“I lied! I lied to you, Remus.”

Remus stares at him for a while. “You didn’t trust me.” It’s not a question.

“We knew there was a spy,” Black says, looking absolutely miserable. “We just didn’t know who.”

“And I was the logical choice,” Remus states. “I assume because I’m a dark creature?”

“Yes. It was because you’re a werewolf.” Black looks Remus straight in the eyes. “Because you have fifteen years of experience keeping secrets and hiding who you are. And you’re so damned good at it! Better than anyone I know. Dumbledore always chose you for the most secret missions. You were the only one amongst us no one had any idea of where they were going or what they were doing.”

“That wasn’t by choice!”

“I know, I know. Remus, you have to understand. We didn’t think you were the traitor, we just couldn’t be absolutely sure that you weren’t the traitor.”

Remus swallows and looks away. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I felt with every fibre of my being that I could trust you and you would never hurt us!” Black speaks. “But at that time, I couldn’t allow myself to feel, I had to think. And logical thinking, shutting off all emotion, said that none of us could say with one hundred percent certainty that it wasn’t you. With Harry’s life at stake, we couldn’t afford to take any chances. It was best not to tell.”

Remus nods, but he’s still not meeting Black’s gaze.

“Remus, please look at me,” Black says earnest. “I need you to know this. We still would have died for you in a heartbeat, Lily, James and me. We still thought the world of you.”

“But I thought the worst of you!” Remus’s breath hitches. “I despised you, wanted to hate you! If I had found you that night, I would have...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, doesn’t need to.

Black doesn’t look shocked, or even angry. He just looks immensely sad.

“Why wouldn’t you have? I fucked everything up, Remus. I lied to you, I trusted the wrong people, I distrusted the wrong people, I convinced James to take a path that lead straight to his death. And I can’t even do the only thing James asked me to do in case the worst would happen! I can’t even take care of Harry, like I promised I would. I abandoned him in my failed attempt at revenge, another one of my numerous mistakes. I literally can’t think of a single thing I haven’t screwed up these last weeks.”

Remus just stares at him. Only after a long silence, he speaks.

“You really are... you.”

Black just blinks at him.

“I mean, the boy who snuck out of the dorm to keep me company in the hospital wing, the boy who bribed the house elves to make my favourite chocolate cake on my birthday, the man who wanted me to stay with him when I had no place to live and never let me go, the man who once attacked five Death Eaters on his own because one of them had tried to use the Cruciatus curse on me... That person was not a facade, an act or a lie. That person was really you. You’re really that person.”

“Telling you I was the Secret-Keeper was hard for me, as it was the first and only time I ever lied to you, I promise.”

“I know,” Remus slides down in the chair across from Black. “And it’s okay, Sirius. It’s okay.”

Sirius closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them again to look at Remus, they’re filled with relief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’s just... You’re the only person who I couldn’t bear to see me as a monster.”

Remus smiles softly. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

I hope you still like it, though it might not be exactly what you're looking for!

#thanks for the ask!#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #first wizarding war

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

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Meeting and Dating Shavonne Wright

(My crappy gif)(Requested by anonymous/The ask had three separate requests in it so I’ll respond to it later when I’m ready to start writing the others)

- You met Shavonne in school. The two of you had a class at the end of the day together but you didn’t talk to each other until halfway through the year when she saved your ass in the school bathroom.

- It was around fourth period when you just so happened to enter the bathroom after she did. She was leaning against the sink smoking and not paying any attention to you when you made your way into a stall. It was there that you found out that “that time of the month” came early and you were completely unprepared.

- You cursed quietly, panicking while rifling through your bag for a second time. You could hear her let out a short laugh in response to your outburst before she finally spoke.

“You alright in there?” The question was joking more than anything.

- You winced at the idea but swallowed your pride, asking if she had a pad or something that you could use.

“Oh shit, girl. ...Yeah, give me a minute.” She answered quietly. You could hear her heels clicking against the floor as she made her way over to the stall, her hand appearing over the top of the door to hand you one.

- You thanked her and finished up, hoping that she would leave before you got out but you had no such luck. You shyly exited the stall, flashing her a small smile as you went to wash your hands.

- She nodded at you while taking a drag from her cigarette, brushing off your second thank you as you finally left the bathroom. You let out a breath once you got into the hallway, figuring that was that and she’d forget about it by the time your class with her came around.

- So the end of the day came around and you made your way into your final class; study hall though your “teacher” let you do whatever you wanted within reason.

- Shavonne came in a few minutes after you had and, for the first time, seemed to notice that you shared the class together. She hesitated for a moment before making her way over and asking if you were “alright now”, offering you a Midol as she took a seat.

- The two of you talked on and off for the rest of the period; you blamed it more on the fact that she didn’t really have any friends in that class rather than her actual interest in you. But you’d soon be proven wrong.

- She began to sit with you nearly every day after that, your conversations moving past awkward small talk and the length at which you spoke getting longer and longer. Shavonne actually found herself trying to get to that class faster so that she could see you sooner, something she later realized was a bit odd for just two friends, especially when it came to her.

- After about a month of talking, the two of you began to walk out of class together, still making conversation as you made your way through the halls. It was there that she finally asked if you’d like to hang out after school.

- You agreed and soon found yourself sitting on her bedroom floor as she rifled through her records, trying to find a good album to listen to. She asked you what you thought of Don while her back was turned to you and you honestly answered: you didn’t know him very well but he seemed like a jerk, harmless but an ass.

- To your surprise, she agreed and told you that she was planning on breaking things off for good, hesitantly admitting that she liked someone new anyways. You started to prod just a little bit.

“They’re... well you know....” You don’t piece two and two together as she begins to subtly describe you. “Just... cute, you know?”

“I’ve never heard you call anyone cute before.” You chuckled slightly.

“Sexy. Is that better?” She teasingly corrected herself. “But they’re more cute. Like a puppy or cat or something. I don’t know she’s just different.”

Your heart skipped a beat, wondering if you heard her correctly. “She?”

“Huh?” She asked but you knew she was faking it, her voice high and nervous.

“You said ‘she’.” You replied tentatively, unsure of if it was your place to intrude.

“Alright, so it’s a she.” She muttered defensively, knowing she couldn’t play off her fumble.

“Alright.” You said and moved on to another subject of conversation.

- The two of you had your first kiss the same night she confessed that she had feelings for you. She’d dragged you out with her late one night, convincing you to come by admitting that she’d broken up with Don and “just wanted some company”.

- You were sat next to her on a field of grass, swatting mosquitoes from your legs while she smoked when she finally told you that you were the one she’d been talking about. You went silent for a long moment before you told her that you liked her too, letting her lean closer and closer until her lips brushed against yours; testing the waters before she pulled you into a real kiss.

- It’s certainly a new experience but one you wouldn’t trade for the world.

- Lots of pda. She’s a touchy person in general so no one really suspects anything when she’s hanging all over you. She constantly has her arm around your waist/shoulder or her hand in yours.

- Quick, frenzied kisses. She’ll desperately attack your lips for a minute then pull away like nothing happened the next.

- She likes when you lay your head on her lap but; depending on her mood, she’ll either play with your hair or put things in it until you notice. Even though she messes with you, she doesn’t want you to pull away.

- She’s a tease. She doesn’t like serious talk, instead she prefers to gossip and try and get a reaction out of you, usually a nice one.

- Tv dates.

- Slumber parties, you have one; at least, once a week. You usually make whole days out of them, heading over to her house right after school and staying there until late the next morning.

- You know that picture of the two girls where one of them is putting makeup on the other while straddling their waist. That’s the two of you; you can decide who’s who.

- Bathroom smoking breaks. You tend to light her cigarettes for her since she rarely remembers her own.

- She literally has everything else you could need in her bag besides a lighter. Hair ties, tampons/pads, gum, breath mints, chapstick, tissues, pepper spray, spare money, band aids, etc.

- Playing dumb games to pass the time, especially during your free periods.

- She likes to be tall but she really isn’t. She’s constantly wearing heels and gets annoyed when you tease her about her height.

- On the same note~ She’s actually really insecure. She may not act like it on the outside but she’s always secretly trying to do things that make her look more “appealing”, skinnier, prettier, etc.

- You occasionally help her get dressed because she insists on wearing the tightest pants that she can force on and ridiculously hard to clasp necklaces.

- She can usually score some beers for the two of you from unsuspecting guys who think with the head that’s off their shoulders; if you like to drink, that is.

- She likes being helpful, at least when it somewhat benefits her. She’ll come help you with whatever you’re doing as long as it either involves her or you spending more time with her.

- She calls you “girlie”, it’s her version of a pet name, sort of ingenious since she can call you it in public without turning heads.

- Drive through restaurant dates.

- Wandering around and seeing where the night takes the two of you.

- Rollerskating dates.

- Matching nail polish.

- Bumping each other’s hips teasingly.

- Brushing her hair behind her ear for her. There always seems to be an annoying strand in her face.

- She likes to think of herself as being above “kiddie stuff” but she’s a sucker for little childish trinkets and stuffed animals. She’ll tease you for getting her something like a teddy bear but you bet your ass it’ll be sitting on her bed the next time you visit.

- She gets spooked easily and whenever she does, she has a habit of looking to and trying to latch on to you. You’re sort of used as a stress ball and a meat shield at the same time.

- Comforting hugs, she always seems to know when you need one and she’ll take one whenever you want to give her one.

- She turns into a little teddy bear when the two of you get to her house after school. Her shoes come off, she shrinks and then she turns soft. She refuses to be the little spoon, she’ll koala bear your back before she allows you to be the big spoon.

- She’s a clothing stealer; a beautiful, persistent thief that vexes you. Looking for a particular shirt? You’ll find it soon enough... with your girlfriend inside of it.

- Jodi is incredibly and adorably supportive while Kaye is most certainly a borderline lesbian herself. They’re most likely the only ones who know about the two of you.

- Her shoes in one of your hands and her hand in the other. It’s a common thing after a late night of partying since she insists on wearing heels every time she goes out.

- Special handshakes.

- Photobooth pictures. She’s got them pinned on her headboard and hidden in her pillows.

- She likes leading the way when the two of you walk together but always makes sure that you’re close behind, not wanting to leave you somewhere or let you stray too far away.

- Being really comfortable with each other. The two of you can talk about whatever you want without ever having to feel embarrassed.You’re also the only one whose secrets she actually keeps.

- She’s a real one; at least when it comes to you. Pimple on your back? She’s got it. Bled through your pants? She’ll get you another pair. Puking in the bathroom? She’ll hold your hair. It’s girl code baby and she’s mastered it.

- Shavonne’s never been jealous; actually jealous, of anyone, mainly because she’s never been in an extremely serious relationship. But with you? She certainly has a mean streak when it comes to dealing with people she deems as being too close to you.

- It’s a little hard for her to decide when she should and shouldn’t get jealous since she’s sort of new to the whole “being gay” thing. Should she be jealous of guys that flirt with you or only girls who seem to like you more than friends? She isn’t sure.

- She tries her best to deal with her jealousy on her own time and to not let you know about it. She’s sort of embarrassed since she considers herself a pretty sought after girl. She doesn’t think she should ever feel like there’s competition when she’s the one you’re with. But like I said: she’s secretly insecure and that affects how she feels more than she cares to admit.

- She’s very protective of you, insulting whoever is rude to you or tries to make you the butt of a joke. People learn very quickly that being mean/inconsiderate to you gets them on her shit list.

- She always has a comeback no matter the situation. Teasing her? She has one. Fighting with each other? She has one. You’d think she has a book full of them somewhere.

- She never stays mad at you for very long. She likes to think that she can hold a grudge but when it really comes down to it, she tries to smooth things over pretty much as soon as she can.

- She sings “love you~” more than she says it seriously but the feeling and intent is still there. You think it’s cute anyway.

- She doesn’t have anything against her hometown so she wouldn’t mind sticking around for a while. Maybe the two of you can rent/buy a house together; be ambiguously gay roommates that all the old ladies either look at weird or openly admire your “friendship”.

#shavonne wright imagine #shavonne wright headcanons #shavonne wright headcanon #dazed and confused #dazed and confused imagine #dazed and confused x reader #dazed and confused headcanons #dazed and confused headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanons #90s movie headcanon

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onestowatch · 3 years

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For Louyah, One Viral TikTok and His Closest Friends Changed Everything [Q&A]

It's a tale as old as time; through the power of friendship and the internet, Staten Island-born singer-songwriter and producer Louis Attillio Vigorito’s, better known as Louyah, life changed forever. In a car ride with his friends in New Jersey, the artist had the surprise of a lifetime when he realized his friends had secretly worked to get one of his singles, “I Used to Care,” played on the radio.

Eight million views and counting later, the 25-year-old has proven his versatility as an artist and established himself as an impressive rising talent. Raised in South New Jersey, Louyah entered the music scene as a vocalist and guitarist in metal bands Premonition and Idle Minds. After six years as a band member, he took the plunge and launched his solo career. Rather than focusing on one genre, Louyah’s strength lies in incorporating an eclectic yet balanced mix of pop, rock, rap, and R&B elements.

We had the opportunity to chat with the artist about the viral, wholesome moment, how their life has changed since then, and what fans can expect next.

youtube

It's safe to say the last month has been a whirlwind for you. You went from playing in a bunch of bands to setting off on your solo career in 2019, followed by releasing your first album to now being catapulted in front of the internet. What has been the most eye-opening experience during your journey so far?

The most eye-opening thing that hit me was that, just when I was ready to move forward with the whole album and ready to say fuck it let's put something else out, out of nowhere my friends got me on the radio, and that just changed everything. It was a very "expect the unexpected" moment.

How do you spend your time now? Has anything in your life drastically changed?

I keep writing songs! I've honestly been writing a lot of music. Other than that, I've been just kind of doing the same thing. Keeping to myself and hanging out with my friends and my family. I wouldn't say anything's changed, because I'm a very family-oriented person. So, I mean, a lot of people have definitely hit me up, and I think it's awesome. Personally, though, I don't know a lot of people and, for me, it's hard to want to do a project with someone if I know I haven't met that person. I just stick with what I know in the moment. Once I'm introduced to somebody in person, then I'll feel better about it. But as far as making music with people who are hitting me up, it's... I don't know. I just blew up and you're hitting me up. It's a weird feeling.

You want to make sure the connections you make with people are genuine and authentic before you make music together.

Definitely! But as far as you know, DMs are cool. Pink Sweat$ follows me now and that made me happy. I messaged him in 2018 and I said, “You're an inspiration to me. I can't wait to work with you,” and then he followed me and I was like, no way, you just followed me and he said, “Your music's dope,” and I was like, wow, okay. But that's it. I'm not gonna ever be like, “Let's work together! Let's do XYZ.” I feel like it should naturally play its part, just like it did. And there's gonna be a time and place where I sit in a room and he's there and he'd be like, “Louyah!” and I'd be like “Pink Sweat$! Hi.” And then from there, maybe we become best friends or maybe it doesn't have to be anything more than music.

You've mentioned that you still hang out with your friends and family and that nothing in your personal life has changed. What are some things that you do to keep yourself grounded?

I enjoy watching gamers on Twitch and the people I watch are my friends. Outside of that, I spend all my time on music. I really don't do anything else. I would love to travel and music is now giving me the opportunity to travel. Like I've never owned a car. I'm 25 and I've spent my whole life working for this moment. This is all I've ever wanted, and I'm ready for it and I've been ready for it. I've been ready to just accept everything that's happening right now.

If you could leave tomorrow, where would you go?

Japan. Catch me in Tokyo. I just think the culture is beautiful. I think everything's beautiful. I will respect it. I will love it. I will enjoy it. And I just want to see all the cool shops that they have. I want to see all the interesting foods that they make. I think the way they present things is just insane to me, and I would love love, love, love, love, love to go to Tokyo and take some cool photos at night with all the neon signs and just absorb the environment.

Now that you're working on your next record, can you tell me more about the evolution of Louyah and your creative process?

So young Louyah, just Louis. There was no Louyah. I was a 16-year-old kid that loved metal music, so I picked up the guitar and started playing. I then joined the band as a guitarist and after that band broke up, I was a vocalist, so I screamed at people for a little bit and that was interesting. There was a whole metal scene community that loved our band and what we talked about. We talked about a lot of heartfelt things.

Heartfelt things like what?

I talked about my father's struggle with addiction. And that was a big part of my life before I even ventured into Louyah. The band and I were helping people that were not able to talk about those things and just be open and be honest. I would do this thing where I would have everybody close their eyes at my show, and I would say, “Raise your hand if you're struggling with addiction.” Everybody would close their eyes and you would be so surprised at how many people raised their hands. And then I would have everybody open their eyes and I'd be like, “Alright, now look around you. What do you see?” I've watched people just start crying, because they're like, “Oh, my God, my friend is standing right next to me. And he has an addiction. And I didn't know that.” My whole thing was just being a part of that community, helping people in those realms because that was a big struggle of my life. Through my father, and me, my two brothers, my whole family, we all struggled in that. Once that had kind of cleared up, I stopped doing the band stuff. A few of the people were getting older. Some are married, some had kids. I was looking for something else to do. I didn't want to do the five-member band thing, I wanted to just do something that was a little bit more solo. So, I started Louyah.

And how was that change for you? Was it difficult setting off on your own?

That was a big change for me, because I did listen to hip-hop. I was a fan of hip-hop, I love Biggie Smalls. My parents showed me older stuff, but my brother was constantly recommending artists to check out that he thought were cool. And he was like, “Well if you're going to do hip-hop, you should do it the way you want to do it,” because I was a little on the fence about doing it. He just told me to do it the way I want to do it and see how that works. So, I've been using that method. I've been doing it the way I've wanted to do it this whole time and that's working out well. I'm still technically in a band because I work with a whole group of people. Is the band all on stage with me? No. But I think they all play a really big part just like any other band would. That's my band of brothers. One of them has been my best friend since first grade. He makes all my music videos, he does my graphic design content, and he’s also my live drummer. I remember being young and being like, “yo, we're gonna work together, one day we're gonna be in a band together....” and we are now.

Is he one of the friends that got you on the radio in that TikTok clip?

No, he wasn't one of the friends that were in the car. The reason why I put “friends” is because those guys are basically my best friends and also more or less family. But behind me in the car was my little cousin Young Pwavy. And then behind the driver is my friend Gervs. He's actually on the album. He is such a talented singer. And the person that is driving is actually my brother. All three of them went ahead to just put a smile on my face when I needed it and they knew I needed it, because I dropped this record, and just nothing happened. So they just were like, “Yo, you put a lot of work into this, and we see how much work you put into us,” because I record them and I help produce for them, and they just wanted to make me happy. They literally are the reason my whole life changed.

@louyah

If you don’t have friends like this you’re missing out ❤️ #radio #song #louyah #newjersey

♬ I Used to Care - Louyah

I can only imagine how much joy you must have felt in that moment.

I cried. I cried A LOT. Yeah. I cried to my mom, my brothers, I just cried. There was nothing to do but cry for like, three, four days straight. I would go on live and I didn't even know what to say. I would just cry. They would ask why I was crying and I was just like, “I'm happy.” I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I don't know.

What can we expect from the next stage of Louyah?

I think everyone’s in for a surprise.

So a polka album?

Yeah definitely. Or jazz. Snake jazz!

People would love it!

Yeah, of course! But seriously, I think people are in for a surprise. Like I said, this first album was released in February, and I was ready to move on and move forward. I changed a lot of things about Louyah. Let's just say this new stuff is leaning more towards hip-hop than it is pop and rock. It still has similar elements but it's more hip hop. I'm not changing my voice or anything that crazy. There are some cool things that I'm doing, especially with the new song “La Da Di Da” I just put out. I've been working hard. Like, I have too much. I have too much music that needs to be listened to.

I know genres are arbitrary, but would you call yourself a hip-hop artist? What would you call yourself if you had to call yourself anything?

Honestly, that's a great question but also the hardest question for me. It's so changeable because I could say hip-hop right now, but a week from now, I could say rock. And then another week from now, I could say, pop or alternative. I can even say acoustic, because I do make acoustic music too. So I think at this point, it's just music. For right now, I can’t slap a label onto it because a label will box me, and I do not want to be boxed in any way.

What do you want to manifest for yourself in the year to come as an artist and as a person?

First and foremost, a house for my mom and a house for my dad. Also, a place to be more creative that has more room for the whole team that we have. That's number one, because I know that needs to happen. As for other manifestations, I want diamond records. I want plaques. I want to do US tours. God, I want to tour. I love touring, and I love traveling. I want to do sold-out shows. I want to sing in front of thousands and thousands and thousands of people that just all are connecting with me in that single moment, because that always felt like a very surreal moment, and I had just a short little taste of that at my own sold-out show for five hundred to six hundred people.

I want to work with Post Malone. I want to work with Don Toliver. I want to work with JACKBOYS, Cactus Jack, and so many others. But these are big-name artists. On the real low, I've manifested the actual people that I love working with, which are Gervs, Young Pwavy, my friend Alec, and Kevin. Oh, and Dakun. I can't forget Dakun. Dakun mixes and masters everything and produces with me. I can't forget Dakun. All of those people I have manifested. I really did manifest everything I've wanted, and now it's just opened to more wants and more needs. So I'm excited to see what else comes of those things because, at this point, I don't even know what could happen tomorrow. There's something new every day.

#louyah #interview #pop #hip hop #i used to care #tiktok

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years

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Shattered Lives Ch 31 Pt 2

The room erupted and Sildie was stunned, it was never supposed to be her. She looked at Gustaf and then Oliver.

“Sildie.” Gustaf’s quiet call of her name snapping her out of her shock. Everyone was on their feet as he stood and held out a hand to help her stand. “Breathe love, let the lawyer shine though.” He said quickly as he hugged her.

“Shit.” She breathed. “Fucking shit.” She muttered looking at him. Gustaf grinned as he heard the irritation in her voice. That tone of ’for fuck sake really?’ He watched his courtroom lawyer get a grip and knew she’d be fine until she sat down again.

She slammed the tears down, now was not the time to lose her shit. She took her award from Oliver, the weight of it in her hands oddly comforting.

“It’s not often you catch me without a legal pad full of notes for closing arguments but it seems Oliver has the upper hand tonight.” She smiled and the entire room laughed and took their seats. “And although I’m not one for skewing holes in defense counsel cases, I do tend to like roasting them over an open fire.”

Opposing counsel included Gustaf thought with a grin and glanced at Lucas remembering the day she wiped the floor with him.

She was going to have to dig deep and wing it. She focused on Gustaf, the calm in her storm. He subtly pointed at his heart and mouthed two words that made it easier. ’From here’, from her heart.

“I never considered myself a recipient when the Bar Association approached me to help create it. In all honesty, had Oliver told me I’d be receiving it I probably wouldn’t have turned up tonight.” She chuckled, the light chuckle from those in the audience that knew her made her smile. “My brother was a bright light. Full of life and love, an untapped soul of compassion that ran deep. Oliver had it right, he was ruthless in the courtroom as most of us can attest, but the one thing he would never waiver on was his humanity. We are all human he would say, and we all deserve respect and compassion, no matter our lot in life, no matter our station, no matter our past doings. Always innocent before proven guilty.” She looked at Gustaf to ground herself and took a breath. “Dana was my brothers better half.” She said sarcastically. “Literally.” She chuckled and the laughter rippled. “Dana was an old soul, her kindness unfathomable, her compassion for families, especially children, incredibly strong. Her mission in life was to mend as many families as possible, to help them reconcile or resolve their differences with as little disruption to the children’s lives as she could accomplish.” She looked at Gustaf his gaze hadn’t left hers, his love giving her the strength she needed. “The loss of two beautiful souls has left its mark on us all. The void they left behind can never be filled. I miss them.” She said simply. “I miss their laughter, their strength, their compassion, their counsel. But most of all I miss what they gave to the world, what they gave to their children, honesty, commitment, respect, love.” She choked on the last word and the room was silent. She had almost lost it.

“I’m honored to have been chosen to receive this prestigious award. I only hope I can continue to be worthy of it, to strive to be a better attorney, a better person. Thank you.”

As the room erupted in applause again she stepped away and sat back down as Oliver continued with the program.

“Breathe love.” He murmured. “Breathe and relax, it’s done.” He rested his arm along the back of the chair again and held her other hand in his lap, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist, her hands were shaking violently.

She was a wreck on the inside, that hot prickle under her skin trying to gain the upper hand, on the outside the lawyer reigned supreme. Gustaf kissed her temple and stayed close, grounding her, making sure she knew she was safe, that she was loved. Oliver finished up and the band started, classic jazz and Christmas carols.

“Your boss has great taste in music.” He chuckled. “Come dance with me love.” He said gently. He didn’t want to push or rush her, but he wanted to get her alone, hold her close, and have her anxiety drop to a more manageable level.

“Sure.” She breathed, that tell tale wheeze starting to make its way out as she forced in oxygen. He helped her stand.

“Sildie?” Gustaf and Sildie turned to Lucas, hand in hand with his date.

“Not now.” Gustaf said flatly. He turned his back on them, using himself as a shield, and led her to the dance floor, pulling her in close. “I’m sorry, that was rude, but you need a moment to collect yourself.” He said gruffly.

“Thank you.” She sighed, and rested her head against his and closed her eyes. “I can’t deal with him yet, with anyone.” She’d never been more grateful to have him close to her, than right at this moment.

“That’s it love, relax. I’ve got you.” He murmured and danced her around the room, the movement and closeness leveling out her breathing. Occupying her mind with steps so she didn’t crush Gustaf’s toes helped. After the third song he felt her body yield, felt the calm settle over her again.

“I’m proud of you.” He said gently. “So very proud of you.” He kissed her temple, the slower song allowing them to dance cheek to cheek.

“I never wanted that damn award.” She chuckled. “It seemed a little silly for them to give it to me seeing as though I helped create it.”

“I don’t mean about that, though it’s very fitting and well deserved.” He said honestly. “I’m proud of you for coming here tonight, for saying what you needed to say to honor your brother. For being so damn strong. You’re incredible Sildie, don’t let anyone tell you different.” He kissed her, that slow loving kiss that blanked her mind. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She kissed him. “And thanks. I don’t think I would have made it through without you.”

“Together love, you and me. I think we make a pretty good team.” His smile was the one that made those crows feet at his eyes crinkle. She brushed her thumb over it.

“I’m so in love with you.” She kissed him, slow and sinful not giving a flying fuck who saw them. He loved her, why should she hide it? They were going to stare at them anyway.

“When would be a respectable time to leave so I can peel you out of this stunning dress and do wicked things to you?” He growled as he spun them, wondering if they could get back to the table to collect their things and disappear before Lucas caught up with her.

“A few more songs, I like this.” She said softly. “Being in your arms.” Her smile widening into a laugh as he dipped her.

“Fuck me you’re beautiful.” He murmured at her ear as he danced with her. “We can stay for however long you want, it’s all you love.” He wouldn’t let his ex get in the way of her happiness and right now this was making her happy, he’d deal with the other shit later.

His mind chewed over it as he danced. Hadn’t he spent enough time letting that bitch worm her way under his skin? Hadn’t he just spent months purging her from his life, his soul, his apartment? If you have then why the fuck are you letting her get under your skin now, that annoying voice in his head quipped. Don’t give her what she wants, that voice shouted, don’t let her see how much it hurts you, it’s what she wants, she wants a reaction. You promised Sildie to fight for her, for your relationship with her, well pony up. Don’t let Ana get between what you have with Sildie, again. He had to admit, that nagging little voice in his head had a point.

True to his word at the beginning of the evening, he danced for most of the night with her, keeping the rest of the room at bay. The music had slowed, her feet were starting to hurt but she was happy and relieved it was done. As the last song of the night started he kissed her, seductive, longing. As it ended he dipped her low and planted a kiss at the base of her throat, that peal of laughter making him smile.

Once upright they walked to the table and said their goodbyes. It looked as though Lucas had long since gone. Good, Gustaf thought, as he took a relieved breath. She didn’t need his crap tonight.

“Hang here I’ll get our coats.” He said softly and kissed her neck as she continued to talk with Elsa and Oliver. Her gentle squeeze of his hand telling him she was ok.

“Sildie, finally.” Lucas said with a smile as he brought his date over, he looked happy, happier than she’d seen him in ages. “I thought you’d never stop dancing.” He grinned.

“Hello Lucas.” Her tone cordial. She would not embarrass herself or the firm by making a scene. She would keep it all business. “It was good music.” She shrugged with a smile, trying to keep it light.

“I wanted to introduce you.” He said pointing at the blond by his side.

Then it clicked as she studied the woman up close, it was the smug smirk, the same one in the photo, the photo he burned along with the notebook. Oh fucking fuck, she thought, here we go, shit was about to get real.

“This is...”

“Ana.” She said keeping her voice even, plastering a polite knowing smile across her face. She would not play into their sick game, whatever the hell it was, and she would not jump to conclusions. There was something not quite right here, she could smell it.

“You two know each other?” Lucas looked at Ana, then Sildie, and she saw the genuine confusion on his face.

Ana hadn’t told him, interesting, she thought. What else hadn’t she told him, what else had she twisted around to paint Gustaf in an ugly light?

“Mutual friend.” Sildie said locking eyes with the woman that had caused her sweet man so much grief, so much pain. “Never had the pleasure of actually meeting in person.” Her tight smile fixed on her face as she saw the panic in Ana’s, the woman had visibly paled.

Yes, Sildie thought, you’re terrified I’m going to link you and Gustaf and your entire little facade with Lucas is going to crumble right before your eyes.

“Oh.” Lucas said a little surprised. “Mutual friend of mine or yours?” Lucas smiled, still clueless.

Sildie weighed her options and kept her eyes fixed on Ana. She saw the silent plea in the woman’s eyes for her not to voice that connection. No, Sildie thought, no you don’t get to play Lucas like this. He maybe an asshole sometimes but deep down he’s a good guy and doesn’t deserve the same fate as Gustaf at your hands.

“My mutual friend actually, Gustaf.” She said gently and looked at Lucas. The poor guy looked as if he’d been slapped in the face with a speeding freight train. He looked to Ana with bewilderment, those eyes searching for an explanation, and Sildie prepared herself for the cluster fuck that was about to unfold. The guy had to know what he was getting into with Ana. Oh the irony, she thought bitterly.

“They were together for a few years and split last year I believe.” She said simply. She didn’t want to drag out Gustaf’s dirty laundry and shove it in Lucas’s face but she’d give him the cliff notes if pushed.

“Oh, you exaggerate, it was nothing more than a quick fling.” Ana passed off nonchalantly, that saccharine sweet tone grating on Sildie’s every nerve, her glare death incarnate.

“No.” Sildie said calmly, she knew the game Ana was playing and wouldn’t partake. “No exaggeration. You dated him for three years.” The facts, facts and truth always triumphed over lies and deceit.

“You’re mistaken.” Ana growled between clenched teeth.

“No, I’m not mistaken about anything, Ana. I’m well aware of who and what you are.” She said calmly, poor Lucas was hanging on every word out of Sildie’s mouth. They’d known each other for a long time, almost 25 years. Lucas knew she didn’t bullshit or exaggerate anything, in or out of the courtroom. “The lies, the deceit, the pain you caused his sister, his brother, the phantom miscarriage, your own drug use, and the attempt at destroying his sobriety and his career.” She continued as she saw the realization hit home for Lucas, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Yes, I know exactly who and what you are, Ana.” She said evenly and then looked at Lucas. “Is she the reason you think he’s no good for me?” She asked gently, the guy looked ready to crumble. Or is it because you’re jealous and still in love with me, she thought?

“He’ll cheat on you. Keep things from you.”Ana said coldly and all Sildie could do was smile as she started to play the victim of an unhappy relationship, each word from her lips embellished to suit the situation and her own twisted version of the truth. “He’s screws around when he’s on set. He’ll be done with you at some point and move on to the next just like he did with me. He’s a drunk and an addict.”

“He’s a former addict, and his sobriety is still intact, regardless of your attempts to alter the fact.” Sildie snapped, her courtroom lawyer mode well and truly engaged, she would defend her man. Gustaf had given her no reason to doubt his sobriety or his former drug use, he’d been open and honest with her about it right from the beginning.

“You haven’t answered my question Lucas.” She stated, her tone equally abrupt, her eyes still on Ana.

“He’s not good for you.” Lucas choked, his world was falling down around his ears.

“That’s still not answering the question. Is she the reason?” She asked pointing at Ana. He looked at her blankly, not sure who to believe or what to say.

“So you’ll take her word over the truth? That’s not like you Lucas.” She shook her head, she couldn’t believe it. Was he going to throw away everything he believed in over this vindictive, conniving bitch? It wasn’t easy to fool Lucas, there was a reason her brother got along so well with him, both were ruthless in the courtroom, facts and truth, always. “You know when you’re being fed bullshit. Open your eyes Lucas she’s playing you, just like she played Gustaf.”

Gustaf came back to find her in a heated conversation with Lucas, Ana at his side, that smug smirk on her face. He calmed the sudden urge to walk up and wipe that smirk off her face with his fist. “That won’t solve anything.” He muttered under his breath. “Although it would feel really good for the few seconds, right before you landed your ass in jail.” He sighed to himself.

Sildie’s body language alone told him she was well beyond pissed. “Just fucking perfect.” He muttered and his long strides ate up the floor as he surged toward her.

She saw him approach and knew she had maybe five seconds to step between both men before Gustaf lost his shit, she knew that look, lethal fury. She shook her head subtly, he had no clue what was going on or what he was walking into the middle of, and she would protect him at all costs.

He saw her shake her head and slowed, he’d promised to let her handle Lucas. That of course had changed once Ana became involved, but he gave her the floor. As he got closer he could hear their conversation, content to stay far enough behind Lucas to hear what was going on and close enough to kick his ass if necessary. He wasn’t blind drunk but he was under the influence.

“He’s not right for you.” He snapped again. “Or for the kids. Your brother...”

“For the record, in case you didn’t hear me the first time we discussed this, my relationship with Gustaf is none of your god damn business, that stipulation hasn’t changed. And you are not my brother so stop trying to assume the role.” Her tone flat. She locked eyes with him. “And pay attention because this is the absolute last time I tell you. Don’t you fucking dare bring the kids into this.” She snarled. “They are not, nor will they ever be your concern.”

Lucas blanched at her tone, he’d stepped over a line and he knew it. Even Gustaf took a small step toward them hearing that tone, wondering if he was going to have to restrain Sildie. Never bring the kids into it idiot, that was just asking for it. You may as well declare open fucking season on your ass.

“Let me make it perfectly clear to you. I don’t love you Lucas, I never have. That’s not ever going to change despite what you tell me regarding Gustaf and you need to find peace with it.” She was ready to unleash if he kept pushing her. “You need to move on.”

“It is my business when he’s deceiving you.” He seethed and she could see the pain in his eyes, she’d seen it mirrored in Gustaf’s.

“He’s deceiving me? I think you need to look a little closer to home.” She said glaring at Ana. Gustaf frowned, what the fuck did she mean by that?

“He’s an addict Sildie.” Lucas spat.

“Form...”

“I’m a former addict.” Gustaf said flatly cutting her off as he stepped to Sildie’s side. Taking her hand in his, he placed himself solidly between her and Lucas. Enough he thought, she’s taken enough shit from this guy. “And my sobriety is none of your damn business.” He added, his tone dangerous.

“Hello lover.” Ana smirked.

Gustaf, to his credit just glared at her, didn’t even utter her name. He wanted to, he wanted to rage at her for being anywhere near Sildie, but held his tongue. She wasn’t worth the effort, she wasn’t worth Sildie, because that’s the price he’d pay if he retaliated.

“Lov...” Lucas choked, looking at Ana eyes disbelieving. Her quip had been to her own detriment, confirmation that sent the poor guy into a tailspin. Sildie watched something inside Lucas snap.

“You asshole.” Lucas looked from Gustaf to Ana. “He’s the one that...” Ana played him like a fiddle and nodded, her face that of the wounded girlfriend. He looked back to Gustaf.

“So you finished fucking her up and moved on to the next one. I won’t stand by and watch you do the same to Sildie? No fucking way.” Lucas spat, suddenly turning on Gustaf drilling a finger into his chest as if this was somehow all his fault.

“Lucas!” Sildie snapped harshly, her tone telling him to get a grip as he looked at her. Ice cold fury nothing short of murderous looked back, she was beyond livid. Ana was playing him and there was nothing she could do to make him see sense.

Gustaf looked down at the finger still pressed against his chest. “You’re going to want to remove that finger before I do, permanently.” His tone was dangerously calm. Gustaf had a few inches on the guy and pounded a bag regularly, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of kicking his ass into next week. Lucas was one step away of finding out Gustaf’s absolute threshold for bullshit and invasion of his personal space. Gustaf knew the guys head was conflicted, scrambled by whatever this conversation had dragged to the surface kicking and screaming, he was also half full of alcohol, which was why he kept as calm as he did.

“You don’t deserve her, she deserves better. Not some fucking junkie who goes screwing everything in his path.” He snarled again and pushed that finger in a little harder before removing it. It wasn’t the worst Gustaf had been accused of. Sildie knew what he was before they met and Gustaf knew what he’d lose if he ever relapsed. She also knew the truth. Gustaf saw the heart wrenching pain in his eyes, the guy had just had his world turned upside down and shaken violently, he knew that feeling well.

“What Sildie deserves Lucas, is to be respected enough to make her own decisions, her own choices.” He said calmly, cutting Sildie off before she could unleash. He held out her coat so she could slip her arms in. He needed to get them out of here before he did something he’d regret and Sildie decided to redecorate the floor in crimson.

“An observation? A word of advice? You can do better.” He said nodding his chin toward Ana, the bitch just smiled that smug smile as if this was exactly what she’d planned. “You’re a good man Lucas, she doesn’t deserve you.” His tone had Lucas snapping his eyes to his and Gustaf let him see it, the grief that bitch had caused him, he let Lucas see it all.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have children to get home to and a babysitter to relieve.” He didn’t give Lucas or Ana an opportunity to respond, Sildie snatched her bag up and left.

There was more to this conversation he hadn’t heard and wouldn’t give Ana the satisfaction of being part of her game any longer than he already had been. They’d been pawns in her sick little charade with Lucas and he felt for the guy. He kept his body between Lucas and Sildie and steered her toward the door.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly as he turned the key in the ignition. “I know you said you’d handle it, but my sobriety is no ones business but ours and I do not expect you to have to fight or stand up for me, ever.” He spat, he was furious. Not at Sildie but at the entire fucking situation. “Especially when Ana is pulling the fucking strings.”

“I’m sorry that you had to.” She said quietly. “I’m sorry she was there, I didn’t know.” She took a calming breath as he pulled away from the hotel lobby, she was almost in tears. It wasn’t the confrontation, or the fact Ana had been there, it was what it would do to Gustaf, what it was already doing to him. She knew this could spiral him and he’d come too far to let it claim him again so soon.

“Hey.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles as he drove them home. “I had a great night, I’m not going to let that confrontation ruin it. You know my history, the shit with Ana, you know of my sobriety, staying clean, that’s all that matters to me love.” He was not going to let Ana in, she was just a name and he was past all that, he had to be.

“But you shouldn’t have to defend your sobriety to anyone either.” She wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or seethe. “It’s none of their damn business.” She picked at her dress suddenly wishing she’d never gone tonight.

“No it’s not, but I’ll defend it, especially when it’s being thrown in your face or used as a manipulative tool. We know the truth, that’s all that matters to me love.” He kissed her fingers and held them there. He’d keep reassuring her, himself. He wouldn’t let this get to the point it did last time.

“Did you know it was her when Lucas sat down?” She asked and then snorted a chuckle at how absurd her question sounded. “Of course you knew you’re not fucking blind.” She muttered. She felt stupid she had been so caught up in her own head she hadn’t picked up on his emotional swing.

“I knew.” He said quietly, kissing her fingers as he pulled up at a stop light.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Her tone injured.

“Sildie, you had enough going on tonight and you needed me to help get you through, you were my focus, and to be honest she’s just a name.” He kissed her fingers again as the light turned green. “Sure I was shocked to begin with. But then saw it for what it was, nothing but manipulation and vindictiveness. I don’t know what his motives were. To maybe get me to take a swing, shove some proof in your face to show you that I’m the asshole he was trying to make me out to be. I don’t know. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you, I just knew it would have sent you spiraling and you didn’t need a panic attack on top of everything else tonight. I didn’t want to turn it into a big deal.”

“He didn’t know.” She said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t know about the connection until I told him.” She sighed. Squeezing his hand she gave him the recount of the conversation before he’d been close enough to overhear it.

“Well shit.” He blew out a breath. “Now I feel like the asshole.” His huff making her smile. “I thought he already knew until I saw his reaction, I wondered how authentic it was.”

“Authentic as it gets, and I’m sorry I had to drag it all up and tell him, but he needed to know what she is. Lucas is a good guy, he doesn’t deserve to be fucked over by her.” She felt like she’d betrayed him, his pain, his grief, airing his dirty laundry for all to see. “It wasn’t my story to tell and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok love, I’m glad you told him. Asshole or not he doesn’t deserve what she’ll do to him.” He murmured as he pulled into the garage. “Already has done to him.”

“My only fucking regret is I wasn’t there to see her face when you slapped her with the hard truth. It gives me such a petty satisfaction that it sort of blew up in her face.”

He pulled up next to the minivan and turned the key, the car falling silent.

“Look at me.” He said gently, his fingers stroking her jaw asking, pleading. “I let her get between us once.” He started when her gaze locked with his. “I’m not letting it happen a second time.” He leaned across the center console and kissed her sweetly. “Did it piss me off? Sure it did, but there’s no point in me getting worked up over it and dragging it back into our life, back between what we have together.” He kissed her, lingering to nip her bottom lip. “I’m so in love with you.” He murmured, kissing her deeply.

“I love you too.”

He helped her out of the car, pressing her against it gently.

“Let it be done. Put it in the blip column for the evening.” He shrugged. She breathed out and looked at him.

“You’re really ok?” She asked gently, her finger trailing his scruff.

“I’m just fine love. I was more concerned for you.” He kissed her tenderly. “Still am. I never wanted her or any part of her to touch you.” He wasn’t just talking physically.

“She gets off on it, the pure satisfaction of playing with people’s emotions, their lives.” She said disgustedly, it made her feel ill.

“And she was high.” Gustaf murmured softly, kissing her brow.

“I wondered, but couldn’t be sure.” She watched him carefully, she was devastated Ana had been shoved in his face.

“Does or has Lucas used? Apart from alcohol?” He asked carefully.

“Not that I know of. And it’s none of my business.” She shook her head. She couldn’t go poking into his life when she’d unequivocally told him to butt out of her own.

“No, not our business, but just be careful when you’re around him.” He kissed her temple and lingered. “Especially if he continues to be with Ana. She’s a junkie Sildie, she’s into the heavy shit, or at least she was. She’ll try to bring him down with her to her level.” She nodded and his kiss was tender. “Just be careful.”

“Always love.”

“Now.” He breathed out. “Can we get back to the wonderful evening we were having? Where we’re were dancing and kissing? I remember lots of kissing.” He murmured and kissed her temple, lingering to breathe her in. “Let it be done.” His sigh shuddered as he let it all go. He didn’t want to take it any of it upstairs until he could get alone with the bag. He had some shit to deal with but it wasn’t as all consuming as before, he needed to get it right in his head.

“It has been a wonderful night.” She said softly. “And yes, let it be done. You’re right, we can’t let her get between us again.” She looked at those Viking blue eyes. “Can we go to our room?” Her voice sultry as she ran a blood red nail across his bottom lip. “I don’t think there’s been enough kissing.”

“We can.” He growled and devoured her mouth. “Come with me kitten.” He took her hand and led her to the elevator, his hands diving under her coat as soon as the elevator doors closed. He needed to feel that body he’d itched to touch all night.

***********

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea

#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction #shattered lives

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thepandapopo · 4 years

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Sylvix Week 2020 Day 1: Wedding

Synopsis: No matter what world or what timeline they exist in, Felix and Sylvain will always find each other.

Byleth becomes an omniscient immortal goddess that lists her top three favourite SylVix weddings that span across a variety of alternate universes and worlds.

You gave me a wedding prompt and I gave you a three for one deal.

Written for Sylvix Week 2020

AU in which all the canon stuff happens but Sothis is actually the goddess of multiple universes and when Byleth merges with her, she gets to see Sylvix reincarnated in world after world, but no matter what they always find each other. This is her POV recalling her three favourite weddings.

The pirate one was definitely inspired by Pirates of the Carribean because that scene was so ridiculous and all I could think about was how it was SylVix level dumb.

There are not many things in this existence that Byleth finds beautiful, not anymore at least. After living for centuries upon centuries and in worlds that one could only dream of, it was safe to say that Byleth had pretty much exhausted all there was to see in terms of beautiful things.

But one thing she will always watch over fondly and with such heart rending piety that makes her wonder if perhaps there is a god even greater than her, is the way Felix and Sylvain’s souls always find their way back to each other, regardless of what life, regardless of what world, and regardless of what circumstances shape them.

----

The first world that Byleth has the pleasure of attending their wedding is in her original life. It is the life that she remembers the most vividly and fondly, back when everything was so new and yet not because of the soul of the progenitor god that resides within her.

The cathedral in Garreg Mach is strewn with swathes of teal and maroon fabrics, hanging from the ceilings in graceful arcs interspersed with pristine white. Blue and Red Salvia pepper the towering columns in the empty pockets where the ivy parts way to reveal long expanses of white stone, restored over years of hard work and loving care.

At the base of the altar near the head of the room, Byleth stands tall and proud as the officiant of this historical event, the joining of two territories through marriage in the traditional sense, but also so wholly untraditional in the fact that it is a Duke and Margrave committing to each other in a gesture that has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with building a future free of unspoken rules and obligations.

“Stop fidgeting,” Ingrid hisses at Sylvain from her position as Best Maiden. She is a vision herself in her Gautier red gown that is just practical enough that Hilda and Annette didn’t have to blackmail her too much into wearing.

Across from her, Dimitri – Felix’s Best Man - is also staring at the shifty groom who looks like he is half a minute away from bursting into either hysterical laughter or tears. It’s a bit of an odd sight seeing the King of Fodlan not standing center stage for once, but just for today, he has gladly traded in his royal garments for a simple, but smart looking military style get up (not unlike their old school uniform) in Fraldarius blue.

And in the middle of all of them standing right by Byleth’s side is their very own Sylvain Jose Gautier, dressed in his finest linens with a black jacket lined with crimson fur and golden thread. Draped across his front is an expanse of teal cloth that sweeps back over his shoulders and billows out in a magnificent cape emblazoned with both the Gautier and Fraldarius crests. Although Sylvain has always looked noble in his own way, his roguish grin has always softened the edges of his appearance with a mask of carefree immaturity. Today though, he looks every bit the mature esteemed war general turned Margrave; his shoulders are pulled back and he stands tall even though they all know that there are more than a few individuals in the crowd who oppose this marriage. Standing next to him, Byleth can literally feel the air of assured confidence that a person exudes when they know that they are doing something so fundamentally right, that there is no way that it isn’t fate.

If anyone had told them that Sylvain would be the first person among them to be married, a trip to the infirmary for hallucination would have been the follow up course of action. But here, standing at the altar under the beaming mid afternoon sun streaming through the windows, there is nothing that seems more natural.

Even if Sylvain won’t stop fidgeting.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri’s eyes are wide with suspicion and dread, “you’re not getting cold feet, are you? Goddess, Felix will kill you.”

“Yeah, and not even the pretend kill either. He’s going to really, truly run you through with his favourite sword. That you happened to get him, might I remind you.” Ingrid elbows him again, the sharp pain a gentler reminder of what pain he might be subject to in the near future if he really is considering ditching his own wedding. In the middle of the ceremony. With hundreds of guests around them.

“No, I’m not getting cold feet.” Sylvain rolls his eyes and tenderly rubs his ribs where Ingrid keeps jabbing him. “I’m just… I don’t know. I’m impatient. We’ve been standing up here forever.”

And of course, in typical Felix fashion, he just has to be proven wrong when the massive oaken doors at the entrance of the cathedral open with a groan, just barely audible over the swelling sound of the music changing and the rustling of clothes as their guests stand to welcome in the other groom.

The first time that Byleth gets to witness Sylvain’s entire world fall apart and click back together like two perfect puzzle pieces, is when he catches sight of Felix, led down the aisle by a beaming Annette, and breathtakingly resplendent in all white.

Blown out pupils obscure burnt sienna as they rake over the vision that is Duke Fraldarius walking slowly towards him with what looks to be the most obnoxiously long dress coat ever tailed. It clings to his lithe form sinfully from his shoulders down to his hips in such a way that coax’s Sylvain’s tongue to swipe across his lips, before draping and flaring back in a style reminiscent of a bridal train. The very same golden stitching that weaves through Sylvain’s jacket also glows ethereally in Felix’s clothes, which only serves to emphasize the silky midnight waterfall that has been tamed and woven into a side braid. Atop his crown sits a golden circlet that dips and meets in the center of his brow, adorned with a topaz flanked by two garnet rubies.

It is the first time that Byleth prays to the goddess and thanks Sothis for allowing these two souls, who are just so right for each other, to finally, finally get the happiness they so deserve.

When Felix’s golden gaze finally flutters up beneath inky lashes to meet Sylvain’s, the air in the room charges with tangible electricity and chuckles murmur through the crowd as both Ingrid and Annette reach out simultaneously to stop their respective grooms from bolting towards each other.

By the time Annette hands Felix off to Sylvain, both men are staring at each other with such blatant reverence and awe that Byleth almost feels bad for clearing her throat and ruining the moment.

“Dearly beloved, thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate the union of Duke Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Margrave Sylvain Jose Gautier.”

Somewhere to her right, Annette stifles a happy sob and the couple share a small, amused smile.

“The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete; the person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends time and space and is something so pure and so wonderful, that you cannot imagine a life or world without them. For Felix and Sylvain, that moment happened back when they were children and too young to know what love meant, but old enough to know how love felt. Many of you know their story already; some of you have had the privilege to walk along side them as they each wrote their tale. But what we all have in common today is that we get to witness the moment when they begin to write their story together.”

Later in the evening, Sylvain will tease Dimitri about how constipated he looked trying to unsuccessfully supress his tears while also desperately trying not to crush the small pouch in his hands that contained Sylvain’s wedding band.

“Now, I do believe that you two have written your own vows. Sylvain, would you like to go first?”

There is a beat after Byleth asks her question before Sylvain can escape the fogginess of his mind that is filled with thoughts of Fe, Fe, Fe and comprehend what is being asked of him.

“It’s in your breast pocket,” Ingrid hisses behind him.

It’s true. Sylvain can feel the folded piece of parchment tucked snugly against his chest above his heart, but there is something in Felix’s mesmerized gaze that stays his hand and sends it reaching instead for smaller, scarred and callous ones.

“Felix…” his breath escapes him like a prayer. “My darling and dearest Fe.”

Honey brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears and Sylvain feels his chest tighten, squeezing out the lyrics of the song his heart has long been singing, but never aloud.

“For a person who has always had a silver tongue, it’s a wonder how you manage to steal all the words from me every single time. I could still try to wax poetic about how lovely you are or how lethal you look with a blade in your hand, but I feel like if I do either or those, you might just stab me.”

A soft snort and misty glare confirm his suspicion and Sylvain lets out a watery chuckle.

“Do you remember the promise we made as kids? Back then, we didn’t really know what it meant to die together, but we promised each other that anyways because the only thing we knew for certain was that we didn’t want to live without each other.”

Sylvain’s lungs burn with the effort it takes to inhale through the sobs that want to escape him. The rapid thumping of his heart threatens to burst out of his chest, and it nearly overwhelms him before a gentle hand brushes away a stray tear that has managed to escape its confines. Unwittingly, more tears fall even as Sylvain grounds himself with Felix’s touch and forges on.

“Fe, I have loved you for a very long time, even though I may not have known it. I have loved you since we were young children and you would sit in my lap for hours as I read story after story to you. I have loved you since we were old enough to train together and you would trounce me spectacularly even though I had the weapon advantage and you were such a scrawny brat. I loved you even through Glenn’s death when you shoved everyone around you away, building up the walls around your heart that I wanted so desperately to see again. I loved you when we met again at the officer’s academy and I tried to drown my problems in women and empty dalliances, and even through the war where I was so terrified that you would die before I could ever confess my feelings for you.

But Fe… despite how long I’ve loved you, I vow to you today that I will continue to love you for even longer in the years ahead. Dying is easy, but living is so much harder, and so that is why I want to build on our promise and vow to always stand by your side and live the rest of my life with you. I have loved you all my life, Felix Hugo, and I cannot imagine what my life would be without that constant. It grows each and every day, filling my heart more than I ever thought possible. Goddess… I love you Fe. I love you so very much, my beloved, and I hope that one day I’ll find the perfect words to tell you that, but for now, before all these people, I give you my heart and soul because it has always been yours from the start.”

Sylvain’s heart aches with the raw truth and gravity of his words that are so filled with love, bursting from his heart and overflowing from his eyes only to be brushed away gently by the very man who encompasses his thoughts every minute of every day. But despite how shaky his breath is, Sylvain’s hands are steady as he slips the onyx band onto the ring finger of Felix’s left hand.

“Felix? Would you like to read your vows?” It is dead silent in the cathedral, save for the few sniffs and hiccups from their closest friends.

“Sylvain.”

Byleth can see the moment that Felix steels his resolve in the same way he does right before entering battle. Right now, Felix is fighting his own demons, but he is determined to win because he owes it to Sylvain to be just as raw and open as he has laid himself out to be.

“Sylvain. I… we both know that I’m not good at words, but I want to try, for you, because I know that sometimes the voices in your head try to convince you that you’re not worthy of love, and I want to shut them up once and for all by laying everything bare in front of all these people.”

It’s funny and honestly a little bit unfair, Felix thinks to himself, how Sylvain still looks so breathtakingly beautiful even while dripping snot and fully on ugly crying.

“I’m not a good partner, Sylvain. And before you interrupt me, just shut up and listen to the rest of what I have to say. I’m not a good partner because unlike you, I don’t know how to use my words to communicate my feelings. No matter how hard I try, it always comes out sharp and… and wrong. But even though I’m just so fucking awful at it, you somehow always seem to understand me.” Felix pauses to steady his breathing and blink away the tears that are beginning to blur his favourite view.

“I honestly never thought I could have this. I didn’t think there was a future for us because I was so sure that one day you would get fed up with me and leave. But you didn’t. No matter how much I pushed you away, or how many insults I threw your way even though what I really wanted to say was the complete opposite, you always stayed there by my side through thick and thin. And what’s more, you always understood what I was really trying to say.

I hate illogical things. I hate the idea of dying for someone or doing something I hate just because someone else happens to like it. But you… Sylvain, you make me want to do all of those things.”

Felix falters a little, swallowing the lump in his throat that wants to stop his closest guarded secret from slipping out.

“It doesn’t make any sense and it honestly frustrates me just how unwaveringly confident I am that I would die for you in a heartbeat. I would willingly go to those operas that you love so much even though I can’t stand them just so I can see that one smile that makes the world around me fall away. With you, I want to do the things that I’ve always shunned. I want to get married to you. I want to become your husband. I want to adopt children and raise a family with you. I want to grow old with you and spend our days sitting in front of a fire watching our grandchildren run around causing all sorts of mayhem that they probably learned from you.”

“So today, I will vow to you to live with you through whatever bullshit might come our way. I vow to love you until our dying breaths and beyond. But the greatest vow I will make you today, is the vow to lay down my blade and put to rest any lingering thoughts of becoming a mercenary because… because a life with you… loving you… I want that more than anything in the world. I love you, Syl.”

All around them, their friends beam at them through tears and, in Annette and surprisingly Dimitri’s case, elated blubbering. Felix wastes no time grabbing the ring from his king and slipping it onto Sylvain’s ring finger because one minute longer not being married to his favourite idiot is one more minute wasted.

No one cares that Byleth doesn’t even get to say her final line prompting them to kiss because they both lunge at each other at the same time, the crowd around them cheering and whooping, their voices echoing through the halls and much longer in Byleth’s memories.

----

Byleth’s second favourite wedding between Felix and Sylvain is unfortunately not one that she gets to officiate.

Instead, she’s busy parrying the downward strike of a soggy half pirate, half sea creature and returning a blow of her own and painting the floor beneath them a murky ink color as she cuts into its shoulder. Their ship has been boarded by Davy Jones’ and they barely have time to fire an SOS flare into the sky before they are overrun with the cursed pirates.

“Did someone call for backup?”

Sylvain’s hair is plastered to his forehead from the salty spray, but his crimson hair is still more than easy to spot from where it pops up from their starboard side where his own ship has anchored itself to the Aegis. His men let out a mighty battle cry as they dash across the wooden planks connecting their ships while others swing in from above on ropes hanging from the towering mast.

“You’re late, you fucking asshole!” Felix shouts above the sound of his handheld pistol firing straight into the face of an unfortunate pirate. The thick clam like shells around his body is explanation enough of why Felix is using his gun instead of his sword which he favors.

“Aw, Fe. Don’t be like that! You know I’d never ignore a distress call from you!”

“Then next time answer it sooner!”

Felix ducks when Sylvain jumps off the ledge over him and thrusts his own sword into an enemy that had been sneaking up behind him. Despite being rival captains of their own pirate ships, Sylvain and Felix fight like a well-oiled machine, slipping in and out of each other’s space and covering any blind spots that are exposed. It’s a bit odd seeing them fight in such a different style, but Byleth still admires the fierce skill in which Felix takes down his opponents while Sylvain always approaches more cautiously, using tactics and ploys that befit his strategic mind.

Absolute chaos reigns around the two of them and the clashing of swords peppered intermittently with the loud cracks of gunpowder igniting fill the air. The smell of the sea all around them is thick with the lingering smell of burnt sulphur and even more so the irony tint of blood.

“Are the two lovebirds bickering again?” Claude grins at Byleth as he sidesteps a tackle and plunges his blade through the back of the stumbling figure. His Golden Deer cape billows out as he turns and the bright yellow is a beacon of hope to the rest of their crew. Normally, Byleth herself would be wearing one as well, but she has been on loan from Claude and spending the past month or so aboard the Aegis with Felix helping him navigate some truly terrible waters.

“Yes. Although I do wish they would find a better time to do so.” Claude can practically hear her eye roll which just makes it all the more amusing to him.

“Byleth, you wound me! There’s never a better time for… well, anything really, than the present!” Sylvain laughs, but immediately grimaces when the body whose head he lopped off drenches him in black ichor.

Beside him, Felix looks at the new stains on his already disgusting pants and scowls. “Be more careful, you idiot! I can’t save you if you poison yourself by accidentally ingesting some of that toxic shit.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, regret burns through him and ignites his cheeks with flames.

“Oooh. Is Felix Fraldarius actually worried about me?”

“Shut up before I run you through with my sword.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Fe. Because you loooooove me.”

“Sylvain. I swear I’m going to-“

Suddenly a body goes sailing past them and Hilda stomps out from below decks where she has clearly fought her way out of. She points her axe menacingly at the two captains and if Felix didn’t just see her send a full-grown man six flying feet, Felix would have laughed. “If you’re not going to fight, then at least kiss already. We’re all sick and tired of you guys polluting the high seas with your stupid, angsty, rival love.”

“Well just because you’re bitter that your brother chases away all your-“

Sylvain doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Hilda swings her axe in a side swipe. It’s only from years of fighting that the red haired captain is able to duck in time, letting the blade of the axe connect with a unsuspecting enemy instead.

“Okay, okay! Touchy subject. I get it.”

Thankfully, their squabble fades into the chaos as they double down to repel the ghostly abominations from their ships.

However, like all the other worlds and lives in which Byleth has known Sylvain, he just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut for very long and is calling out for Felix even while more enemies somehow appear from the depths of the sea, truly outnumbering them two to one now.

“Hey Fe! Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me!”

There’s an awkward pause, only punctuated with Felix quickly shoving his sword into an oncoming enemy.

“Sylvain, this is not the time!”

“Come on, professor! Things are looking kinda bleak and I don’t really want to die without having married Fe.” Sylvain grins and shoots another enemy over his shoulder without even looking. “and plus it would totally boost morale!”

“I’m not marrying the two of you right now. Felix hasn’t even said yes yet, for crying out loud!”

Seriously, Byleth thinks to herself, she is getting way too old for this shit.

“Claude! If you won’t marry us, then Claude can! He’s a captain too, right?” Sylvain shouts up at the golden garbed leader who is sniping people from the safety of the foretop.

“Consent, Sylvain! Consent is important!” Hilda screams.

Another enemy falls from behind Felix and he turns to face Sylvain who has the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “Well, Fe? What do you say? Wanna get hitched?”

There’s a beat.

And then another.

And then,

“Claude. Marry us.”

Sylvain’s smirk is bigger than the time he struck literal gold.

“Gladly!” Claude laughs and doesn’t even blink as he shoots down enemies left and right. “Deerly beloved, we are gathered here today to-“

“Fuck your deer puns! Just get to the important shit.”

Clearly, Pirate Captain Felix is a lot less patient than Duke Felix. Or perhaps it is more to do with their current circumstance than the actual virtue.

“Jeez, fine fine! Uncultured swine, the lot of you, truly. Do you, Felix Hugo Fraldarius, take Sylvain Jose Gautier to be your lawfully wedded husband? In sickness and in health, in scurvy and even at the bottom of Davy Jones’ locker?”

“I do.” Each word is punctuated by a sword slash and the enemies around their odd band of allies begins to thin.

“And do you, Sylvain Jose Gautier take Felix Hugo Fraldarius to be your lawfully wedded pirate booty husband? To treasure him more than literal treasure? To have him in all his grumpy glory and to hold him even when he threatens to stab you?”

For someone who is very likely to die in the next ten minutes and also covered in guts and ichor, Sylvain is incredibly happy when he chirps back a gleeful “I do!”.

“Then, by the power vested in me by the guy whose ship I stole after I killed him, I now pronounce you husband and husband. So fucking kiss already.”

It’s by no means their most glamourous wedding, but Byleth can’t help but remember fondly on the matching grins on Felix and Sylvain’s faces as they kissed in the middle of that god forsaken hell of a boat, looking for all the world like the two puzzle pieces that have always fit together perfectly no matter what color or shape they may morph into with the crossing of time and dimensions.

It is such a shame really, that their small moment of respite and happiness breaks when a terrified voice pierces through the cacophony of sound.

“KRAKEN!”

----

Byleth’s third favourite Felix and Sylvain wedding is one where she unfortunately doesn’t get to be there with them, no matter how much her heart aches. Instead, she watches them from above, in a space that no mortal (and honestly not even any god) can truly begin to comprehend nor describe.

“Close it, close it. Hurry the fuck up!” Felix’s voice echoes in the dilapidated church even though his voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We can push the pews up against the door to bar it.”

Sylvain is exhausted and his chest is heaving from being on the run for the past day and a half, but he nods and gets to work anyways, heaving the heavy wooden benches over to where Felix is bracing his shoulder against the door in case any undead try to get in.

It takes a good while before either man feel safe enough to leave the door unattended. In a world overrun by zombies, there aren’t any second chances or lessons learned – one slip up is all it takes for death, or worse yet, turning into the undead.

When Sylvain’s heart and mind finally slow down enough to observe their surroundings, he wants to laugh at the absurd irony of it all. “A church? Seriously, Fe? I’m kinda surprised we didn’t burst into flames as soon as we crossed the threshold.”

“It was the best option. All the other buildings had too many entrances. This one only has the one door and all the windows are boarded up already.”

Felix is already unpacking their travel bag and setting up camp in a far corner away, tucked away from any line of vision from potential cracks in the boards or windows.

“It’s just, I thought you would automatically avoid churches; especially with how our parents tried to raise us.”

It’s a bit of a sore topic between the two of them, both having grown up as close family friend and their parents being extremely religious. Felix more so after his older brother died in the line of duty and Rodrigue fell to religion to cope.

When Felix and Sylvain came out as gay to their families, it was nothing short of awful. The Gautiers had immediately disowned Sylvain, and although he was expecting it – given their track record with Miklan who was also disowned for the same thing – it still hurt and left a large, gaping hole in his heart. Rodrigue on the other hand had only Felix left. Despite their differences, he was reluctant to lose the last family member he had, instead opting to pile brochures after brochures of conversion therapy camps on Felix’s desk until the metaphorical house of cards finally gave way to years of anger and resentment.

If either of them had known that would be the last time they would see their families before the world went to hell in a handbasket, Sylvain likes to think that maybe they would have tried a little harder to keep them in their lives.

“What’s wrong?”

Felix is looking at him with those piercing golden eyes that Sylvain adores so much. Right now, it’s the gaze that Felix uses whenever his curiosity is piqued but he knows not to push any boundaries. It’s because Felix knows when to push and pull, and how to follow the ebb and flow of his mind that Sylvain loves him with every fibre of his being.

“Just thinking,” he hums. He drags a dirt streaked hand through his hair and ignores the grimy feel of the sunset locks. “About how you’re the only family I have. The only family I want.” He clarifies when he sees the strange look on Felix’s face where he is stirring the can of soup over a pitiful fire.

They are silent for a while, letting only the wind whistling through the empty rafters overhead fill the gaps between them. If they were anyone else, the loud echoey hall would have allowed loneliness to slip its way into their space, but they’re not; they’re Felix and Sylvain, the two boys turned men who have always been at each other’s sides from diapers to survivors.

“You’re my family too.”

It’s only a whisper, but Sylvain hears the declaration clear as day and it sends his heart soaring to heights that are only possible whenever Felix is involved. So high, that a random thought manages to worm its way into his head and burrow itself deeper and deeper until Sylvain cannot help but blurt out:

“Have you ever thought about getting married? Us, I mean?”

Felix startles for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes and Sylvain can see the beginnings of a blush sneak its way up his turtleneck collar.

“What?”

“Have you ever thought about us getting married?”

“Where is this coming from? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse here.”

Felix isn’t wrong, but his flaw was that he could never really see beyond the immediate task. Which is exactly why they worked so well together – Sylvain, admittedly, was all about smelling the flowers and walking wherever his path took him, while Felix had the discipline and determination to focus in one goal and hound it with unwavering precision.

Instead of answer, Sylvain walks up to the altar at the front of the room and lays a hand against the podium, his fingers dragging through the thick layer of dust and debris, leaving behind a trail of shiny wood that peaked at him from below.

“I’ve always dreamed of marrying you, you know.”

The admission slips from his lips like a dew drop off a petal, slowly at first, but then falling to gravity and splattering on the floor between them leaving moisture pooling at the corners of Felix’s eyes.

“You… wanted to marry me?”

It’s unfathomable. It’s outlandish and impossible and all things incomprehensible but God, if Felix doesn’t want it with a burning passion that threatens to disintegrate him from the inside out.

“Want to marry you. Still do.” Sylvain flashes him that crooked grin that he loves oh so much. So much so that his heart rends every time he sees it and fills him with so much love that he finds himself uncharacteristically stepping off the metaphorical ledge and praying that he can fly with his next words.

“Sylvain. Marry me. Right here, right now.”

This time it’s the red head’s turn to gawk and splutter, and damn if it doesn’t fill Felix with a giddy smugness.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“You heard me. Marry me. We’re in a church aren’t we? Isn’t that all churches are good for?”

Sylvain wants to scold him and tell him that churches are also for praying, but bites his tongue on the bitterness that begins to coat it; Sylvain used to pray, but what’s the point when no one really listens?

(Byleth wants to go to them. She really, truly, does. But even a Goddess is not all powerful.)

Instead, Sylvain wordlessly extends his hand towards Felix and pointedly keeps his gaze to the crumbling statue of Mother Mary and the large cross that hangs ominously over their heads. When he finally feels familiar calloused hands in his, he pulls and Felix allows himself to fall into warm arms that have made him feel loved for so many years.

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Words cannot describe how much I love you. You’ve always been there by my side, through thick and thin, and honestly, I don’t really deserve you. But I vow to keep striving to become a person who is worthy of your love. I vow to live my life to the fullest everyday to become a better person for you because you make me want to be a better person.”

Each promise is punctuated with a chaste peck on the lips, each filled with more love than the last until Sylvain is murmuring his words against the plushness of Felix’s mouth.

“I vow to love you until the day I die and to protect you with everything that I am. You are my family, Fe. You are my home. And I will always come back to you – no matter where, when, or what world; I swear, I will always find my way back to you.”

Felix buries one hand in the collar of Sylvain’s fur lined jacket while the other tangles in his hair, trying to desperately pull him closer even though they are already pressed up against each other, chest to chest and hip to hip.

“Sylvain Jose Gautier. You’re an absolute idiot if you don’t know how much I love you.”

(“Fe, why are you insulting me during our vows?” “shut up.”)

“We’ve known each other forever and sometimes I take for granted just how much of my life you occupy until you’re suddenly not there, and all I’m left with is loneliness and a giant Sylvain shaped hole where my heart should be. I vow to never take you for granted ever again, because despite what you think, you are worthy of love, Sylvain. And you deserve to be happy.”

Something wet plops onto Felix’s cheek but he pays it no mind and continues with his vows, keeping his temple pressed against Sylvain’s jawline and his eyes closed.

“I vow to live by your side for the rest of my days so that I can remind you of that when the voices in your head become too loud. But above all, I vow to love you in such a way that lets you be the Sylvain that you really are, wholly and unapologetically so that you never have to hide behind a fake smile ever again. You are my home, Sylvain. I’ll always come home to you.”

When Felix raises his gaze to look at Sylvain, he cannot help but smile fondly at the teary, lovestruck expression on his face.

“You don’t have to cry about it, dummy.” He says, even as he raises himself on his tip toes to kiss away the droplets clinging to wispy lashes.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, clinging to each other in this space that they have made their vows and tied their lives together in the way that they should have long ago. They continue holding each other even as the night falls and the chill settles in, and into the morning when the tell-tale sound of unearthly groaning arrives at their doorstep.

“You have my back?” Felix asks completely nonchalantly as he unsheathes his katana and falls into a battle stance that he has long since mastered from after school lessons and then polished in real life survival.

Sylvain grins at his husband from his position perched on the highest ground available, his rifle and scope already set up and a variety of other guns, locked and loaded, littered around him.

“Always.”

----

Byleth dreads the day that Felix and Sylvain’s souls reach the end of their life spans and fizzle into nothingness, dissolving back to the void from which all souls are created and returned. But until that day comes, she continues to watch over them as they are born, and as they grow and fall in love over and over again.

Sometimes she will be allowed to step in and take a more active role in their stories, but in the times that she cannot, she knows without a doubt that they’ll be okay.

Because, after all, even if they weren’t soulmates, Byleth knows without a shadow of a doubt that Felix will always choose Sylvain, and Sylvain will always find his way back home.

XxXxXxXxX

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how-to-survive-a-factory-tour · 5 years

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How To Survive a Factory Tour - Chapter 8

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

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The room we enter is dark, the only light coming through the door, casting everything in a pale glow. Not bright enough for me to see anything properly, though. Guess I was right when I told my parents I think I need a new glasses prescription!

I’m pulled from my thoughts as the door slams shut behind us, causing me to yelp in surprise.

“Are you okay?” Logan’s voice speaks through the now pitch black.

“Yeah, it just made me jump is all...”

The lights flicker on, illuminating the room, and I have to pause a moment for my eyes to adjust. We’re in an entrance hall with a door on the other side, hand shaped coat hangers to the right, and a small stage to the left. The stage has a table with two quills and ink on it, and on the wall behind the stage is a closed red curtain.

“Hang your coats and things over there, then just stand in front of here please,” Wonka instructs as he stands on the stage.

Logan, Virgil and I head over to stand in front of the stage as Ethan and Roman head over to the coat hangers. Ethan pulls of his suit jacket, revealing him to be wearing black suspenders, and then pulls off his gloves, tucking them in the pocket of the jacket. Roman removes his purse from his shoulder. The two raise the items to hook them on the coat hangers, only for Roman to let out a small scream as the metal hands grip hold of them.

“Little surprises around every corner but nothing dangerous!” Wonka reassures. “Now over here so you can sign this.” He pulls the rope to open the curtains behind him to reveal a contract. The writing starts off large at the top, but gets smaller and smaller as it goes on, to the point where you can’t even read the bottom.

“The management cannot be held responsible for any accidents, incidents, loss of property or life or limb...” Logan mumbles the first few lines of the contract to himself, eyebrows furrowing.

“Can I ask why we need to sign this if there’s ‘nothing dangerous’?” Virgil asks.

“There’s nothing dangerous if you follow the rules,” Wonka responds. “During the last tour, the guests weren’t so good at that, and there were a few incidents. It’s why I’m only inviting young adults this time. You should be much more responsible, and therefore it’s unlikely anything should go wrong. The contract is just to be perfectly sure.”

“What if we don’t want to sign?” Ethan asks, rolling up his sleeves, allowing us to see more patches of scales running up his forearms.

“Then you can’t go in.”

“I’m signing!” Roman steps up onto the stage, picking up one of the quills. He crouches and scratches his name in the box at the bottom of the contract. I hop up next to him, grabbing the other quill and writing my name too.

“I guess if I must to get in...” Ethan goes up after Roman. Logan goes up after me, and then Virgil signs his name last.

“Excellent!” Wonka smiles, stepping off the stage. “Now, let’s g-“

He’s interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. Roman pulls his from his back pocket, groaning. “Oh, just great...”

“What is it?” Virgil asks.

“It’s my twin brother...”

“You have a twin?”

“Yep. We aren’t close. Pa used to be married to a woman called Sarah. They had me and my brother. However, then my Pa realised he was gay, and our parents split. I went with Pa, while my brother went with Sarah. Our parents force us to stay in touch, not wanting our relationship to be ruined by the separation. What they don’t know is our relationship was ruined when he ‘accidentally’ knocked me out with his toy mace when we were eight.”

Roman’s phone goes to voicemail, having been left so long, and a slightly nasally voice speaks through. “Pick up your phone! If you don’t, I’ll tell Mum you’re ignoring me, and she’ll tell Pa, and then you’ll be in for it...”

Roman huffs, answering the phone. “Yes, Remus? ... I wouldn’t call it a rumour, I was literally on the news... I wasn’t allowed to bring a plus-one, and even if I was, it wouldn’t be you... You want me to what? No way... Remus, I’m not-! ...Okay fine. But don’t call so often it gets annoying. I gotta go.” He hangs up, huffing. “Sorry for the interruption. You can continue.”

“Okay!” Wonka goes over to a nearby door, pulling keys out his pocket, as Roman pockets his phone.

“He’s going to call me throughout the tour so I can tell him what’s going on,” Roman mutters to us as we follow Wonka. “Don’t see why he needs a in-time play-by-play, but I unfortunately have no choice but to concede to his demands.”

“Hasn’t it ever occurred to you to just say no?” Ethan asks.

“I literally just told you he knocked me out when we were eight. He’s insane. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up killing me one day. I’m not going to make him too angry.”

“That isn’t how brothers are supposed to act...” I frown. I’d feel awful if I treated Emile like that!

Logan sighs, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a harsh reality to face, but not every family is as perfect as yours, Patton. I myself don’t have a very good relationship with my brother. He’s nowhere near as bad as Roman’s, but it’s far from ideal.”

I share a glance with Virgil, both of us looking sorry for the other two. I guess both of us having good relationships with our own brothers probably makes their situations sound even worse.

Unfortunately, before either of us can give Logan and Roman any words of comfort, Wonka ushers us all through a door and into a corridor. A very small and very thin corridor. I’m pushed right to the end, and – oh gosh – Logan is pushed right up to me, his head resting on my chest.

My face is on fire as I look down at him. He looks up at me, and I swear we have a moment. Our eyes are locked, my breath is caught in my throat. I could just say it. Tell him right here, right now, how I feel...

“Pat, you mind opening the door behind you?!” Roman calls, breaking the moment and snapping me out of it.

“Oh, um, right...” I turn around only to be faced with a bare wall. No door. “Uh, there isn’t one.”

“Then how do we get out?” Virgil asks, looking very uncomfortable and increasingly panicked.

“I swore there’s a door over there...” Wonka squeezes past each of us, reaching the wall behind me, and then heads back to the where he was before. “Here it is!”

“Mr Wonka, that’s where we came in,” Logan points out. “I think you brought us into the wrong corri...dor...”

He trails off as Wonka opens the door, revealing not the entrance hall, but a completely different corridor. Then, as if that weren’t strange enough, as Wonka walks down it, he seems to be getting taller.

“The corridor’s getting smaller...” Logan mumbles, which I realise it probably more plausible than Wonka growing... I probably should have thought of that first.

We all follow Wonka down the corridor. Roman is the first to need to duck, then Virgil, then myself, and finally Logan. Gosh, he’s so small, it’s so cute! Smol boi.

Wonka stops at the end of the corridor and the rest of us stand around the door. He turns to us. “This room is the heart of my factory, and my personal favourite. Everything in there is edible. You can eat almost everything!”

“Really?” My stomach growls. Good job I did skip out on breakfast!

Wonka nods. “Feel free to have a wander and try anything you want when we go inside. Oh, but I warn you, keep a safe distance from the chocolate river.” He turns back to the door and unlocks it, before pushing it open.

Wow... That’s the only thought that crosses my mind. Just... wow.

Luscious green meadows, bright blooming trees and bushes growing with sweet treats, fields of – not flowers – lollipops sprouting from the ground. And cutting right through the centre is a river of rich brown liquid: pure melted chocolate, all coming from a waterfall.

“Go ahead.” Is all Wonka has to say, and we’re running off.

I don’t even know where to start! This is my one chance to finally try all the Wonka products I could possibly ask for. There’s so much, I have no idea what to have...

Patton’s pulled a giant gummy bear off a tree and is munching at its ear. Logan has neatly broken open a gourd and is now not-so-neatly eating the jelly inside. Roman is knelt in a field of lollipops, trying to decide which one to pick. He chooses one, plucking it from the ground before sucking on it. He takes it out a moment later.

“What if it’s us, what if it’s us and only us And what came before won’t count anymore or matter Can we try that? What if it’s you, what if it’s me And what if that’s all that we need it to be? And the rest of the world falls away What do you say?”

“What the heck was that?” I ask, wandering over to him.

Roman just holds up his lollipop. “Sweet Song Sucker.”

“What?”

“Right, you haven’t had many Wonka sweets... Basically, they’re lollipops that make you sing.” He plucks another from the ground. “Here, try it.”

“I’d rather not...” Singing in front of someone I only met yesterday? Oh, hell no.

“Go on! They’re great. Give them a chance.”

“I’d rather no-“

And I have a lollipop in my mouth, Roman having put it in as I was speaking. I take it out, hoping that only having it for a second means it won’t work.

Unfortunately, I am proven wrong.

“When I was a young boy My father took me into the city To see a marching band He said, ‘son when you grow up Would you be the saviour of the broken The beaten and the damned?’”

My hand slaps over my mouth the second the lollipop’s effects wear off. Roman just chuckles. “Just what I expected: an emo song for an emo nightmare.”

I shove his arm lightly. “Don’t ever shove a lollipop in my mouth again.”

Roman scoffs. “No way I’d ever do that! I’m asexual.”

“Ew, I didn’t mean that! You’re disgusting!”

“I said I wouldn’t!”

I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. I lie back on the grass, pulling out a couple of blades to munch on. They're mint flavoured. Nice. Roman picks a candy apple from a nearby tree, before lying beside me.

“Ooh, are we all gonna lie here together?” Patton comes over and lies with us as well, still eating the gummy bear. “Logan! Come join us!”

Logan looks up at us, and I have to hold back a chuckle at the jam around his mouth. He wipes it off with his tie before coming over, picking a gumball off a bush as he does so. “Yes, Patton?”

Patton pats the ground beside him. It takes Logan a moment to realise what Patton means, before lying down too.

“This day only just started and it’s already perfect...” Roman sighs.

“You can say that again,” Patton adds. Logan nods in agreement, blowing a bubble with his gum.

My attention, however, is on the fifth tour member. Ethan is knelt down away from us, away from Wonka. And he seems to be whispering into some bushes... I try to listen to what he’s saying, but it does not sound like English. Or any other real language, for that matter. A lot of sibilance.

“Virgil?”

I snap out of it at Roman’s voice. “Yeah?”

“I was asking you all what your favourite Disney movies are.”

“Winnie the Pooh!”

“Big Hero Six.” Patton and Logan both say theirs.

“Well, I’ve only seen a couple round Remy’s... But I’d have to say the Black Cauldron.”

“What?!” Roman sounds very offended at my decision. “But it doesn’t have any songs!”

“Exactly.”

Roman huffs, folding his arms. “But the songs are the best part...”

The Disney conversation, however, is cut short as Logan sits up. “What the heck are those?”

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Taglist: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @clone-number-1 @pumpkinminette @why-should-i-tell-youu2

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larriefails · 5 years

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These very late replies are on this post from over a month ago, for some reason X

There wasn’t a “big larry broke their friendship push” Louis said in an interview with Storyboard (a sort of news source that was published by and on tumblr) that the rumors were affecting how he and Harry behaved in public LINK

That was it... and it was in July 2012. There weren’t “a lot of articles written about it.” There were articles that reported on this. Louis just said what I pasted above. It just rippled around the interwebs after that. And Louis and Harry stayed “BFFs” for a while after that.

Harry didn’t “move out”, they all did. All five of them

The label had rented them apartments in Princess Park Manor in summer 2011, logic will tell you that they had rented them for a year, so in summer 2012, they all had to move out. You just paid attention to the parts you wanted to pay attention to

Zayn

Niall

Liam

Louis

Harry didn’t “move out because of the rumors” and there wasn’t a push that he and Louis weren’t living together because Larries broke their friendship. That’s Incorrect Larry Lore. The Princess Park Manor lease was up, they all had to buy houses, so in the summer/fall of 2012, they all went house hunting and bought houses

Harry bought his current house, Erskine, in September 2012, but he wanted to do a ton of renovations, so he temporarily moved in with a few friends (Ed Sheeran, Lou Teasdale, and Ben Winston). He also spent a lot of time with Nick

He absolutely DID move out. He couldn’t have possibly stayed in Princess Park Manor because... he didn’t have a lease anymore. In fact, not long after they moved out, fans pretended to be interested in renting it and did a tour of the apartment, took pictures and all. I remember because I was in the fandom. No, they didn’t live there anymore

Louis bought his current house in Barnet, Harry bought Erskine. That’s.. that. Larries just say that Harry’s house is too public and he’d never live there, so therefore that’s his fake house, but that’s all you have to go on about how they “definitely live together”. That and that Harry would make jokes about not having a house in 2013. But that’s because he didn’t. Because his house was being renovated. So he jumped from Ben’s attic, to Lou’s sofa, to Ed’s spare room. He didn’t have a house, he made fun of himself. You took that as shade, because of course you did

Harry absolutely lives in Hamsptead whenever he’s in London. He’s ALWAYS spotted around it. This last week alone, he was spotted all around the area. Y’all just live in denial. He had a studio built in that house so he could record there. He actually recorded part of his album there (it’s in the liner notes of his album). He also has an underground garage and entrance, so he’s not bothered when he gets there and leaves (that’s something that fans that walk around the house noticed). According to himself, he redid the whole kitchen, and who knows what else. He obviously put a lot of time, effort, and money into that house that you think he doesn’t live in despite the fact that he’s always around it. Typical Larrie fail

Paparazzi were not stopped from photographing them together. That’s a made up Larrie lie. There are paparazzi pictures of them together at several band events, arriving or leaving. They just don’t hang out outside of the band, so there’s nothing to photograph

They weren’t stopped from riding cars together. You’re talking about that one video where Harry thinks he’s got to ride the car in the front and is told that no, his car is the one in the back. That’s... it. Louis was with Eleanor, even in your made up world, what would be the issue with Louis, Eleanor, and Harry riding a car together? Nobody would’ve batted an eye.. They just had assigned cars and drivers and Harry got confused

Dan wrote sensationalist articles, there’s nothing novel about that and it proves nothing about Larry. Literally no one believes Harry and Louis hate each other. Just like we don’t believe Harry slept with 410 women in a year. We understand that tabloids are tabloids..

They hugged on stage that night because it was the 1D’s last ever concert. They all hugged on stage. There was nothing special about their hug and it would’ve been fucking weird if they hadn’t, when everyone else was hugging each other. Watch in context for yourself

youtube

Just because Harry and Louis don’t say they fucking hate you doesn’t mean they’re not bothered by you. This whole idea that print interviews are somehow meaningless is fucking ridiculous. Did you know that you legally can’t print something that the person you’re interviewing didn’t say? You can switch the wording to make the concept clearer but you can’t purposefully misquote people. And Harry has never talked about Larry in print interviews, wouldn’t that be something “they” would definitely do if “they” had the power to do so? Louis has said in interviews that Larries are disrespectful towards Eleanor and Freddie and this is either audio or video, so why you’re jerking off to “it’s in print” is beyond me

On stage they smile at fans. Not Larries. Fans. Because they’re performing for fans. This is why big Larries are so fucking harmful, propagating lies about how they specifically looked at them and smiled at them and because they’re Larries, absolute bullshit. Never proven, in fact, a lot of times it was proven these were lies. They have never sang to each other, let alone “gone out of their way” to do so. All Larrie lies. Using angles to show something that you could see from another angle wasn’t true and ignoring it when it was pointed out

Harry waving rainbow flags has Z E R O to do with Larry, you fucking piece of shit. He never waved a rainbow “always in my heart” flag. In fact, at the Rio de Janeiro concert, where they were selling rainbow flags with that bullshit written on them, Harry LITERALLY checked that the flags didn’t have anything written on them before waving them

youtube

Those fucking bears I swear to god. They were done by the crew, specifically by the stage designer Kate Moross who posted this last year on their IG stories

Google their name and you’ll see...

They don’t hate “gay rumors” what they hate is being called liars, having their family and friends harassed, Louis hates that they call the love of his life a beard and his son fake. It’s not about the fact that y’all think they’re gay (which is disrespectful when Louis has told you he’s straight and Harry has told you he doesn’t label his sexuality). It’s about everything else you have to believe in order to believe they’re gay and in a relationship

We all think that they drifted apart because they matured and changed as people with time. But we also know that their friendship was definitely affected by the pressure y’all put on them by analyzing every single one of their interactions, giving them meaning, and then using them as fodder to lie, attack, and harass

You sit in a throne of lies that make no sense @mr-mr-ontheradio

#debunked #larrie fails #mr mr ontheradio

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warmau · 6 years

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Highschool!AU Jaemin

find college!nct (here) & hs!haechan (here) | hs!jeno (here) | hs!jisung (here) | hs!renjun (here)

favorite subject: biology

least favorite subject: art

voted most likely to: make the world a better place

jaemin is the highschool student everyone already knows is going to do super well in life

like it’s highschool - no one knows anything about their future

but everyone is in agreement that jaemin? he’s going to go FAR,,,,,,

maybe he’ll be a doctor like his parents are hoping for,,,,

maybe he’ll be an idol - he definitely has the looks for it,,,,,

maybe he’ll just cure some horrible disease with one smile because WOW does he have the power to do it

jeno and jaemin are usually praised as the ‘silent, handsome’ princely types by their underclassmen fans

haechan always snorts and claims that jeno and jaemin are just hiding it - when they all hang out they’re just annoying and weird like the rest of us

renjun just coughs like ‘jealous much?’

haechan: say it to my face

jaemin, ever the peace maker: let’s all just calm down. i heard mark is coming back to visit from college soon

he definitely likes school more than other people,,,,

he’s always having fun in bio lab and is actually pretty good at math

lots of people want to be tutored by him and jaemin does his best (haechan has been trying to get him to make a business out of it)

but also,,,,sometimes he’s just too nice to say no

and ends up having to rush his own work

he’s also super sporty, part of the volleyball and track team

no one knows how he makes the time for it

has super cute clumsy moments though,,,,,like when he wore his volleyball uniform inside out

or spilled jeno’s paints all over the floor

but everyone forgives him because how can you not,,,,,,,

he looks and acts like an angel

and you know jaemin by association, you had bio lab with him and renjun and it was,,,,

a lot to say the least

but other than those occasional times in class - you aren’t all that close

to be honest,,,you admire him like alot

because he seems so put together

and like everyone else, it’s a hint of jealousy because you wish you could be like him,,,,,,,,

which is what you’re thinking about,,,,,,ironically in gym one morning

and you guys are playing volleyball which you know people are either REALLY excited about or REALLY dreading it

and you don’t even remember which side of the spectrum you’re on because,,,

you see jaemin

and he’s in his uniform, laughing at something a grumpy looking haechan is saying

you look down when you think he moves his head and try to do something with your feet

hoping he doesn’t think you’re weird for staring

or that he just didn’t see all together

so as you shuffle to the other end ,,,, you don’t expect the ball that’s been spiked your way

and when it collides with your head you jerk and slip backwards

falling to the hard gym floor with a loud, embarrassing thud

you hear sneakers against the floor

a circle of students forms around you, but they’re blurry

“o-ow?”

you mumble, the pain stating to throb where the ball hit

and you hear someones voice go

“i am so sorry, im going to get you to the nurse! just close your eyes-”

their cool hand touches your forehead and you do as they say

you don’t even try to sneak a peek at who this mystery person is

the pain gets worse

and before you know it,,,,you’re out cold

the nurse is hovering above you when you finally wake up

she’s standing there with an annoyed look on her face and you hear a voice behind her

“they woke up!”

“i can see that, now sit down and wait.”

you try to move but the nurse shakes her pen at you

“does it hurt, can you see my hand - wait how many fingers do i have up?”

you look at the three fingers and murmur the answer there’s a small tinge of pain but it’s not too bad

the nurse scribbles something down and then leaves

revealing the person sitting behind her

jaemin? why is he here?

jaemin shoots up from his seat, coming over to you

he’s still in his uniform and his big, dark eyes are overcast with worry

he touches the side of your hand,

“are you ok? im the worst person in the world for doing this to you,,,”

you gape

“i- wha-”

“i spiked too hard because haechan distracted me and im sorry the ball hit you i wouldn’t do that on purpose - seriously i owe you, i didn’t mean to hurt you-”

he’s talking a mile a minute and you’re still not really getting it

to be honest he’s making the pain worse

and when you flinch a bit,,,,jaemin instantly looks devastated all over again

“oh god i need to stop, im sorry - i just want you to know id never intentionally hurt you.”

you try to put forth your best smile

“i know, it’s ok jaemin,,,,,”

the truth is you don’t know what is even going on ,,,,,

but what you can tell in your haziness is that you want jaemin to be the smiling, angelic boy he always is

this side of him all messy stuttering and anguished eyes,,,,,it’s not him,,,,,,

jaemin seems to relax a bit and the nurse comes back before he can say much else

she shoos him back to class and tells you that you’d better just rest for the afternoon

the next day the pain in your head is pretty much gone,,,,,,

your friends are all worried but they’re also all kind of humored by the thought of you getting randomly hit by a volleyball

but it turns out it’s not random

not when haechan walks by and nudges jaemin like

“you hit them with your volleyball jaemin,,,,,you should be happy they’re not SUEING you”

you blink, confused and one of your friends gasped

“it was jaemin who threw it? but he’s so nice,,,”

you turn to them before jaemin can hear

“it was an accident! he didn’t mean it!”

you really dont want to pin this on jaemin,,,,

you know just from seeing him yesterday that he’s probably still beating himself up about it

and you’re right

he is

jaemin finds you at your locker and purposes doing your homework for a week as an apology

you decline and at lunch he asks if you’d like for him to carry your books instead

you decline again but jaemin sees you during fifth period and asks if maybe you want him to buy you an expensive dinner

you don’t know any other polite ways to say ‘no thank you - hitting me in the head with your volleyball isn’t such a big deal’

so you just tell jaemin it’s fine it really is fine

but,,,,,he can’t let it go

you can see the way he’s clenching his gym bag and looking at you

so you finally give in

“you can ,,,,,, win the next volleyball game for me and for the school.”

he straightens up a bit

“that’s,,,,,,i can do that but that’s really not how i should pay you ba-”

“jaemin, just win. win the game for me. that’s what will make me happy.”

you smile and you don’t know it but jaemin feels something bloom within the depths of his chest

you could have used this opportunity to make him do some outrageous favor and yet here you were being selfless,,,,

asking him to just win a game

“i really didn’t mean to hit you with my volleyball,,,,”

you clutch your books to your chest and let out a small sigh

“jaemin i know, i know you didn’t. so stop wasting your time and go win that game and we’ll be even. ok?”

you mindlessly reach out to touch his arm encouragingly

leaving to get to a club meeting

jaemin turns slowly, but you’re already down the hall and just a speck around the corner

he remembers seeing you in the nurses office, passed out

how he’d dreaded the fact that he’d hurt someone

but what made it worse, the absolute worse was that it was you

haechan and chenle had waited for him when he got out of the office and haechan had shook his head

“you literally just hit your crush with a volleyball,,,,jaemin you have the worst luck in the world.”

chenle had shrugged, “for the first time haechan is totally right.”

jaemin did have the worst luck,,,,,,,but he was sure he had great taste in people

afterall he’d liked you since high school started and you’d only proven to be such a,,,,good person

jaemin shifts his bag on his shoulders

he’ll win this game,,,,for you,,,,,,and,,,,,,so he can finally do something he’s wanted to do for a while

the volleyball game is the most buzzed about topic at school the day of

everyone is going to go because your schools is facing another school for a chance for the province playoffs

usually,,,,you wouldn’t even think of going - but your friends are all interested and plus

for some reason,,,you had a note stuck to the front of your locker that read

‘you can’t miss the game today!’ - jaemin’

so,,,,,,,when you got there after classes pilling into the bleachers with the rest of the student body you felt,,,,jsut a bit nervous

your schools team came out first

jaemin looked absolutely perfect with his hair pulled back in the band, the uniform just slightly baggy on his lean frame

for a second you caught his eye,,,,,,,he smiled and you felt a thump in your chest that reached your ears

gosh,,,he really was so cute,,,,,

the game was intense, everyone was on the edge of their seats but luckily

your school pulled through and the whole team rallied around each other

jaemin was sweaty, tired, and still he threw himself into the team hug but then - just as the coach came out to make a speech about how playoffs were the next step

jaemin pointed out into the crowd

everyone feel silent

“this win is for -”

your name rung through the gym

and everyone turned to look at you

jaemin didn’t seem to care about the awkward, shocked air

as he ran up the stairs in the bleachers and tugged you out of your seat

“jaemin?!??!?!”

you start, frantic and feeling your entire body heat up with everyones eyes on you

but jaemin just shakes his head

“everyone needs to know that-”

you expect he’s going to say ‘that i didnt mean to hurt you!’ or whatever

but instead he goes “that i like you,,,,,,will you go out with me?”

the entire gym erupts into whispers and ‘ohs!’ and then applause

and you’re pretty sure this is just /too/ dramatic of a way to confess

and you didn’t think jaemin had it in him

and yet here you are

in his arms after a winning volleyball game and he just asked you out in front of the WHOLE school

before you can even mutter an answer the coach clears his throat

“na jaemin get down here immediately!”

he calls and jaemin lets go of you to rush down the steps

the coach scolds him till finishing his speech about playoffs,,,,but everyone (even the teachers) are way more invested in you and jaemin

by some miracle,,,,as everyone is leaving the gym you get pulled aside by chenle

who tells you that jaemin’s waiting on the opposite side of the school for your answer

you get there,,,,the sky's already dark and you can see jaemin’s silhouette against the side of the school

his gym bag over his shoulder, his hair slightly a mess from the game (and from the millions of times he’s run his hand through it with nervousness)

“hey,,,”

you wave as you approach,,,feeling awkward and nervous yourself

jaemin perks up, but you can hear his voice is shaking a little. his confidence high from winning the game must have come down

and you can tell because he chuckles and goes “sorry for making a scene,,,,”

“it’s ok,,,it’s just,,,,,are you really interested in dating me - this isnt another one of your ways of saying sorry?”

you see jaemin’s shoulders kind of fall

his frown hurts more than anything else in the world

“no,,,it’s not,,,,how could you think id do that? do i seem like such a bad person,,,”

“nO!!! no,,,i just want to be sure,,,,,”

it’s silent for a moment but then jaemin steps forward

he touches the side of your head, there’s a small bruise you’ve tried to cover up to no avail where the ball hit

and he leans in a bit to kiss the spot beside it

“i do really like you, and i do feel bad for ,,,,, you know,,,,, but i hope you can still give me a chance,,,”

you nod slowly and jaemin’s eyes twinkle with their usual happiness

but then you add, “jaemin,,,,,the whole gym confession was a little dramatic,,,,”

he goes red and grips his bag

“i know, i know winning just got me into this mood and i promise not to embarrass you like that again,,,,not as your boyfriend.”

the word boyfriend makes the inside of your heart flip

and jaemin slips his free hand into yours

“let me take you home~” he proposes

and before you can even fully register it,,,,,you realize you’re dating the one and only jaemin

and of course the next day everyone gathers around you to know what happened

but you don’t even have to say much

because jaemin turns the hall and the moment he sees you

it’s like he’s seen the warm sun come out

because he drops his conversation with his friends and rushes over to you

“when’s your free period?”

he asks, excited and you tell him ,,, still surprised by how fast he got over to you

and jaemin just grins like “me too! let’s go get snacks together!”

chenle: are we invited?”

renjun: no, it’s a date DUH

everyone gasping: A DATE?

speaking of dates,,,the thing about dating jaemin is that it never stops feeling like pure puppy love

because jaemin’s personality is pure and honest

he likes you for the sweetest reasons, he thinks you’re the most beautiful person in school but not just based on your looks

like there’s something about jaemin that lets him attract the good in people

and he knows that you are,,,,one of those rare good people who he’s ready to give his whole heart too

even though he’s still young an might think that giving your whole heart is sharing ice cream at 7/11 during your free periods

and spending hours in the library ‘studying’ but in reality you’re just doodling funny things on the same piece of paper and getting hushed for laughing by the library TA

and falling asleep on your shoulder as you take the bus home

but don’t get me wrong,,,,jaemin knows hosw serious loving someone is too

he knows the importance of being there for each other

from simple things like when you come to cheer him on at his games and jaemin feels this burst of energt just from seeing your smile

to serious things like applying to colleges together or talking about family issues together

when you call him and your voice shakes on the phone because the future scar you,,,growing up scares you

and jaemin’s voice,,,like calm music assures you that the future is bright and that he will be there with you for any steps you want to take

“people always say that ill make it,,,that i sure to be someone or something - but im scared too. im scared like you are, but ill hold your hand no matter what. let’s be scared and brave together!”

god,,,that’s corny but jaemin would totally say that and in the moment you’d probably cry because your bf is the best,,,

jaemin’s volleyball team wins playoffs and as a gift the coach gets them jackets with their names on it

and jaein’s first thought is “im going to give this to my s/o”

and he does,,,,

you wear it sometimes to school and everyone is like so cute!!!

haechan: this is it’s own level of pda

jaemin: heY ,,,,,we don’t even kiss in front of strangers we wouldn’t kiss in front of you guys either

and it’s true tbh you know that jaemin like is shy about those kind of thigns

but it’s fine,,,you get enough kisses from him when no one is looking

and you kiss him too,,,which always makes jaemin get blushy (his ears turn firey red)

there’s this cute thing jaemin does and that’s he opens his mouth just a bit when he’s in deep thought

so just for fun you’ll poke his cheek and make him snap out if it and ur like babe a fly will go in if u dont close your mouth

and he always goes no it wont!!! but then he’s like,,,,,what if it does will you give me cpr if i choke

and ur like hkgdfljs ill do my best

but also jaemin and you having a horror movie night and he’s doing the open mouth thing and you’re like,,,,,jaemin,,,,jaemin there’s a fly on your lip

and he gets so scared he like throws all the blankets off you

and ur like no no im joking and he’s like i almost had a heartATTACk

jaemin’s favorite phrase when you do anything teasing is “don’t be mean like haechan.”

jaemin likes chocolate but sometimes you know how he can get when he has too much energy (the gym confession ahem) so ur like u have to stop him

sometimes you have to steer him out of the candy aisle before school

he doesn’t get injured a lot but he does love sports and nature so he’ll sometimes get a little hurt and you’re like worried and he’s like it’s ok

and you’re like don’t telll me it’s ok,,,you’re the oen who wanted to flip the world on it’s side when you hit me by accident with the vollebyall

and jaemin’s just like plEASE stop,,bringing it up,,,

but it is the story of how you two like became a couple

which people think is oddly charming

jaemin wins a really big game another time and you forget his shyness and kiss him right on the lips after the game ends

and jaemin is like aHHH,,,ahHH,,, ,aHH,,, s,,,sorry everyone!!!

but the whole team is like GET IT

and you’re like sorry jaemin i couldnt help myself im just proud and love you so much

and jaemin is like ok,,,ill let you off because you’re so freaking cute - sorry i didnt mean to say freaking

long story short he’s adorable

#nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #sfw #nct au #nct dream au #nct #nct dream #na jaemin #um the only warning is you get hit with a volleyball in this LOL

2K notes · View notes

vyrannn-blog · 5 years

Text

I had just complained about having to clean up the basement after me and my friends hung out because there wasn’t a mess

She then texted me:

Mom:hey set your phone out for me. Unacceptable to not go do what i ask you to do. If your room and the basement isn’t super cleaned up (and bird stuff) no friends over tomorrow...

Me: i was literally just going to go down there? and i need to wake up tomorrow and practice so i need my phone. don’t just assume that i’m never going to do something if i don’t do it immediately it’s rude.

Mom: It’s rude the way you are speaking to me, and rude to ignore me as i ask you to do something and walk away. I would hope and expect the same amount of kindness and respect you give to your dad. I’m the one (with lindsay) who helps you and provides for you and i hear you always treat your dad so much better. That hurts.

Me: the way i speak to you is the level of respect you have for me and my privacy and my feelings. i wouldn’t be so passive aggressive if you respected me more and i needed to get ready for bed and i was about to go down and clean the basement (even though there wasn’t a mess) right before you texted me. you have a weird mindset where you think if i don’t do something immediately i’m never going to do it. and i treat dad better because he respects my privacy and if i don’t want to tell him something he doesn’t keep pushing it.

Mom: We will talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight love you.

Me: no, we won’t.

Mom: Yes we will *kissy face*

-next day-

Me: i need two white t-shirts for marching band by tomorrow.

-she had yelled for me because she wanted to talk, and i thought that she wanted to talk about what we had talked about the day earlier, not the shirts so when she told me to come to her i asked why and she said “because” instead of explaining why, so i said “no”-

Mom: That’s the kind of thing i was talking about for disrespect. When you’re asked to do something by a parent you do it politely and respectfully. Don’t expect me to get things for you and allow friends etc when you act like that. You’re grounded today, no friends over or you don’t go anywhere. When i get home I’ll have your phone for the rest of the day.

Me: i’m not your slave

Mom: It’s basic obedience and respect Brykelle

Me: I don’t “have” to respect or like you at all. there is no rule that i have to enjoy being around you or talking to you, and i don’t get why you need to talk to me

Mom: You are correct, you don’t have to like me but as your mom you should respect and i would hope love me. I’ve never done anything but love you and try to help you. Your dad has done the most horrible things and train wrecked our lives that everyone has done so well to keep on moving forward ad doing awesome. You seem to forgive him and be kind to him yet often don’t to me. I just needed to ask you about the shirts.

Me: don’t try to blame this on dad, and yeah dad has done some messed up stuff but that doesn’t mean he’s a bad person and he at least treats me like an actual human person

Mom: I’m not trying to blame anything or anyone just trying to show you as a comparison. I’m clearly not a bad person either, and i certainly treat you well and do anything i can for you. For sure we can do a better job it just needs to go both ways. My point was for whatever you feel i do wrong I would hope to get the same courtesy, kindness and forgiveness as you give dad who’s done much more horrible things if that makes sense

-i had made some plans with friends that i hadnt seen in forever a few days prior-

Me: so my friends, that i haven’t seen for two months, can’t come over?

Mom: Sorry, not until we have talked through and have an understanding... got to have some respect and mutual understanding going. When you choose to speak to me the way you did last night and earlier today privileges/fun times are taken away...

Me: oh ok i see so basically i’m going to be forced to act like i like you or i won’t be able to be with my friends or do anything that is remotely interesting and my brain will slowly rot and i’ll go insane. makes sense

Mom: Haha. As i said before... it’s basic respect and the way you should treat your parents. Ask all the older kids... it’s all the same and a common thing. Sorry I’ve not done a better job to help you understand your parents. They’ve gone through the same thing - I’m sure they will tell you... better to figure it out and it will save you a lot of grief

Me: i don’t “have” to treat anyone with respect unless they’ve proven they should be, and i’m not going to “figure it out” with you

Mom: Whenever you’re ready...but until then it will be resorted to no friends and likely lose your phone too. Most of the time you’re respectful and kind... but there are times it’s unacceptable and basically I won’t put up with it. Dad would do the same. Ask the older kids once again... they will tell you who was tougher.

Me: i’ve already made plans with my friends, that’s not fair at all. me leaving the house doesn’t effect you and it shouldn’t be any of your concern, and talking to you would bring us to the same conclusion as us texting.

Mom: That’s what you’re not understanding, it is my concern. The quicker you learn to be kind, polite, do the simple and few things i ask of you then there is no problem. Talking is always better but I’ve been at work so that’s why I’m texting

Me: how is it your concern? if i’m out of the house i’m not making a mess, i’m not being too loud, i’m not bugging you and lindsay so i don’t understand why you care at all.

Mom: Literally if last night when I asked you to go down and make sure things were neat in the basement and you did it... all would have been fine. When I asked you today to come down and talk to me instead of saying “why” and “no”... and just coming down to talk - all would have been good.

Me: i didn’t want to talk to anyone at the time. i had a headache and being in the main room makes voices really loud and it hurt my head.

Mom: You never bug us. We want you to have fun wth your friends- but it’s a life lesson and teenagers jobto learn to be respectful and obedient.

Me: i did clean the basement last night. you aren’t my boss.

Mom: Sorry, but as your mom I am the one who has the responsibility to teach you and help you learn what is right and the more you fight it the more difficult it will be. The sooner you understand and are kind etc then it will be no problem to be with friends etc

Me: keeping me from what makes me happy isn’t going to make me respect you. it will make me resent you and feel like you’re the thing keeping me from being happy. i’m very respectful of people that deserve to be respected.

Mom: That’s so sad that you don’t feel that wa. I don’t know what I’d ever done to you to deserve it. Dad hasn’t had to discipline you... I’ve had to bear all fo tht and been rather lax and easy on you. Most of the time you’re great - it’s just gotten a little out of control (which is typical for your age) and I’ve got to reign it in

Me: You’ve invaded my privacy, you’ve threatened to take away multiple things that make me happy multiple times, you mae me feel like all i am to you is something that makes messes and then you get mad when i don’t do things immediately and that makes me hate doing things for you because you get mad so fast.

Mom: I’m sorry and will certainly try to do better. I can see how you’d feel that way. I’ve had to work, had to figure things out and so being gone a lot that happens sadly. I’ll try to do a better job. Maybe you can too.

Me: whenever i used to try to tell you and lindsay about things that i;m really excited or interested in you act like it doesn’t matter and it makes me feel like you don’t care about my interests and opinions. that’s why i don’t like talking to you guys.

Mom: I would LOVE (and so does he) to hear about more of what you’re excited about and interested in. We will do better. I was just saying the othe day how we need to sit each night with you and Josh just to talk and hear about everyone’s day.

Me: but here’s the thing, i don’t like doing that anymore, i would’ve loved doing that two years ago but not anymore

Mom: We will have to get back to that point. I’m willing to try. Are you willing to try?

Me: no, you’ve ruined it for me

Mom: Well maybe you can change your mind. Sure hope so.

Me: our relationship is way too broken to fix so i’m not going to treat you any differently than i have. the thing you don’t understand is that all you have to do is give me food and a plae to sleep and most of the time i’ll figure the rest out myself. i don’t need to talk to you anymore because you’ve pushed me so far away that i’m closer to all of my friends than you now

Mom: That’s pretty sad. I would hope I’d get the same courtesy you extended Dad who’s done way worse things to ruin our family than i ever did.

Me: stop acting like dad’s a terrible person, he’s one of the most amazing kind and smart people i’ve ever known. he’s made some mistakes, but at least he understands how to raise kids.

Mom: I’m glad you have friends you’re close to, and that’s how it should be. Just know I love you and will always try to make things better.

Me: Sorry i didn’t mean it like that, i meant that as in he understands how to not make me feel like crap when i do something wrong. anyways can i please go skating with my friends tomorrow? you said i could yesterday but you said i was grounded a bit ago. we’ve been wanting to go for almost a month and we finally found a good day to do it and i don’t want to let them down

Mom: I’m on my way home, we will talk when I get there.

Me: i don’t want to

Mom: Sorry not an option

Me: see this is what i’m talking about. forcing me to have a conversation isn’t effective, and it’s a lot harder for me to talk to you in person

Mom: That’s fine, your choice. If you want to be able to hang out we will have to start talking and figuring things out so let me know when you’re ready.

Me: i don’t think you read my last text correctly, i said i get anxious when i talk to you in person

Mom: Well that’s something you’ll have to overcome. But it’s normal I get it.

Me: if i could “overcome” it i would’ve by now. that’s like telling someone that’s afraid of heights to just “get over it”. you can text me when you get home but i’m not going to talk to you in person.

Mom: I’m home, I’m beat. I need to mow the lawn and shower. If you decide you’re ready to talk let me know. That’s one of the problems with phones these days... if we need we will shut it down for a while so you can learn to talk to your own mom. Like i said- it’s pretty easy to get to do the things you want and go the places you want when you’re willing to make a relationship work with the people who care for you most and take care of you... and make it possible to do the things you like to do.

Me: it’s not my phone’s fault it’s yours! i don’t get why you blame everything on my phone. the reason i don’t like talking to you in person is because you make me feel like i’m letting you down and that i’m not good enough no matter what i do or say

Mom: I’m very sorry and I told you you I’ll certainly try to do a better job. That’s on me for sure

-I’ll update when we text or interact next-

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fidelcastrato · 5 years

Text

Saturday Night Dead

A dull roar floods a small, derelict house and about a block of surrounding land all of a sudden, followed shortly by a piercing screech which acts as the conditioned stimulus to roughly 30-40 people between the ages of probably around 15 at the youngest, up to pushing-40, causing a mass salivation in response to the promise of real, proletariat, bullshit-free Punk Fucking Rawk™. Brando Murely himself sits on a cinder block outside the door, just enough out of the way of the crowd distractedly making its way inside, everyone in the middle of a conversation, turning around every few seconds to give their latest opinion on the eternal IHOP v. Waffle House crisis, shouting-match phone calls, drunken wobbling, stoned hobbling, and oh-that-sweet-cocaine's-a-calling. From Brando's arm dangles eazily-breezily a small bucket, perhaps formerly housing some domesticated plant, with the word "DONATIONS" written in sharpie on the side. He is only a few brainwaves away from REM sleep, that sultry temptress.

Avey and Fyo take their sweet time. The openers are about to play, now sound-checking, if you can really call it that (not to be rude, but the opening acts of these kinda shows were more often than not either local upstarts or local failures, and lacked some level of expertise in regards to acoustics, dynamics, levels and such), but they have both just lit a new cigarette. No worries, though; they've been around enough that they know the path straight to the front, if it should turn out that The Ushi Onis were worth front row listening.

Towards the back of the house stood in solidarity the introverts so in love with music, but so out of touch with people, the old farts who didn't really care anymore but still attended out of habit, the few (if extant) devout fans of another band on the line-up who just wanted to get it over with already, and the stray college kid; not any art or philosophy major, no, just some regular Joe (and hilariously enough, one independent study in "Crime and Punkishment", a locally famous zine, reported that 73.7% of these people were actually named Joe) who happened upon this utterly obscene proceeding via a stack of coincidence and misfortune--maybe they were there with some punk ladyfriend from class.

In the middle, by far the largest section, you could find pretty much anybody from anywhere. Regulars who still hear the heartbeat of the scene, newcomers enthusiastic but not enthusiastic enough to put themselves out for judgement if they happened to accidentally nod their heads a bit with the music (mortified.....), and that strange demographic that seemed to place itself starkly in the middle of all the aforementioned alignments; middle-of-the-roaders through and through, to the point where they have risen above the road, and the ideal of the road, and smugly glance at one another and then down to you as if to imply a transcendence which those of us who have ever experienced anything in extreme can never know of.

Front and center, ears blasted to bits and facial muscles entering anaerobic respiration due to excessive smiling, the All-Stars of the scene danced alongside strangers, either naïve or drunk. The frontmen of the most famous local bands, the influencers, both silent and megaphonic, the photographers, the beauties, the hype-builders, the next band, the people who arranged this show in the first place, all of them stood in almost equal amounts of admiration as the performing act themselves. The rich and famous of the DIY; the proletariat bourgeoisie; the broke stock brokers; the soothsayers and the fortune tellers; basically, the people you want to know.

"Hey, let's make a film tomorrow" says Fyo.

"About what?" from Avey.

"Who cares? Let's climb that billboard at the top of the hill. Let's hop on a train and record the city from like, some weird dutch angle, or something. Let's see how many cats can fit in one box."

"We could never find enough cats for that. All of our friends have like two cats at least, including me, and that still wouldn't be close to enough."

"Let's give the camera some 4-aco-dmt and see what happens."

"Easy on the Adderall, bub."

Fyo had a pretty publicly-known problem with stimulants, which he was recently combatting with a burgeoning benzodiazepine habit. Avey's personal dog hair was Kratom. Both of them partook in casual use of just about every recreational substance at this point, always especially eager to try something new. They still more or less had a handle on their sanity, but not without their eccentricities. Both had a deep love for consumption and creation of art, primarily music; between them they owned a veritable arsenal of digital and analog synthesizers, samplers, ancient MIDI keyboards, melodicas, and various novelty instruments collected over the years. Each had their own individual recording endeavors, as well as a joint operation making full use of their combined setup. They had played shows, Fyo more than Avey on account of having played in front of various kinds of audiences since the age of 15, from dull high school jazz band performances to the exact kind of venue they found themselves at tonight--in fact he'd played at this house several times already in the past year. “Holy House”, one of the few legit punk houses remaining in the city after a long string of misfortunes over the past two years lead to some places being shut down, others burning down, some simply forgotten about, living on only in the ink of flyers taped to the walls of just about every DIY art kid in the area--it was kind of like collecting baseball cards. Avey had played a couple of the more fleeting art spots once or twice, but was generally overcome with anxiety at the last minute.

Now three cigarettes in a row have been smoked, throughout yet more overly-anxious stim-fueled artistic brainstorming, both Avey and Fyo silently assuming that tomorrow would in reality consist of the same events as every other Saturday; recovering from the debauchery of the previous night, maybe with a half-hour or so of absent-minded musical improvisation.

The Ushi Onis had completed their set, and from what they heard from outside, it was agreed that their nonsense conversations were about on equal footing with the music, as far as time-wasting went. Not that they were bad, it's just.....it seemed as though they'd heard this same band hundreds of times, despite the fact this was their debut show. It seemed to Fyo, who had been in attendance for, shit, a decade now, that every show more-or-less went the same these days. You could even predict non-music related events. There was the guy who got way too drunk and was basically floating around the crowd, eyes only half-open, flailing around off-rhythm in a disconcertingly unhuman way during particularly intense performances--Fyo himself had been this guy on more occasions than he'd like to admit, as well as more occasions than he could literally remember. There was the creep getting kicked out for being creepy; that was a very strict rule for this scene, "NO CREEPS". You'd see it on basically any given flyer. House shows did tend to attract these creeps, what with the combination of pretty, young, and drug-addicted attributes of many of the female frequenters. Thankfully, Fyo had never been that guy. There was the kind of slapstick situation that occurred immediately after every band played, where the members of the other bands playing that night would come up and say "Hey, great set, what pedals do you use?" and then annoy the shit out of the poor guys just trying to fucking get their drums in the van, only for the same thing to happen to the original complimentary artists. Nobody ever learned their lesson. Nobody ever learned their lesson, forever and ever. This pretty much sums up the stagnation that Fyo has recently come to observe within the scene.

"Hey, I'm done here, if you are. Head back to my place?"

"Right you are."

The four-minute drive back to Fyo's apartment left just enough time to blair at obnoxious volume Avey's favorite song by The Mountain Goats (at least, his favorite song that day--the song changed frequently, but The Goats always remained Mountainous). On the way upstairs, Avey got a text from Tomie: "Beck pulled through. Pool party?"

So Avey said to Fyo; "Beck pulled through. Pool party?"

"Fuckin duh."

Tomie was a close friend as well as ex-girlfriend to both Avey and Fyo. Beck was their communal coke dealer. Fyo was the only person in The Crew whose apartment had a pool, and it was the deep depths of summer, so late night swimming was a common occurrence. Tonight, Tomie had brought Beck along (who surely had more coke, and anyone can see that hanging out with a coke dealer, who definitely had plenty of coke to spare, would certainly turn out to be a fun time--Fyo knew this from experience, as an old friend, Jericho, also happened to be a coke dealer before moving off to.....fuck-knows-where; Fyo wasn't sure WHY they hung out so much exactly, or why Jericho had given him so much free coke in those days; Jericho was gay, but Fyo didn't really feel like he could possibly be desirable enough to warrant such favor, especially with his [back then, at least] very socially awkward mannerisms, even after several lines of really honestly pretty great coke--although, Fyo [himself being hetero, this only now in the narrative needing to be made clear] usually thought the same thing about ladies he spent time with, and surprisingly often was proven wrong) as well as invited Fitch, who invited Les, who invited Beck, who invited Lil, who invited Vick, who invited.....

.....

Noujeff.

"Wait you say WHO the fuck is coming to my apartment???" Fyo demands answers.

"Shit, I'm sorry Fyo. I didn't know Vick was friends with him, don't know why he still is. We'll tell him to fuck off once he gets here, waste some gas at least. But hey.....The Crew here ain't gettin' any younger, so let's fuckin' get to it. Pick a record already."

The Crew was, in no particular order:

Avey, reserved but strong-willed and resilient, and disarmingly cunning; he once got Fyo, his on-and-off-again girlfriend Elise, and himself a free pass to this really exclusive music festival in what can only be described as an "experimental city"--FORM Arcosanti was the name of the festival (the town being just "Arcosanti"), located smack dab in the middle of the deserts of Arizona, where Fyo first glimpsed that now-out-of-reach image, occasionally dreamt or half-remembered, of a lone mountain, in the middle of one of the least forgiving deserts in an entire superpower-nation's worth of land, one of the hottest and driest places around, soaring so high into The Places We Cannot Reach, the great heights, the domain of myth and fiction more than anything, of a mountain seen from the road of a lonely desert which had a peak covered, even here in the frenzied peaks of July, the radioactive horror show burning of July, a peak covered in SNOW. Beautiful, nostalgic (and always nostalgic, for there was no "winter" in Arizona), almost, no yes certainly CLEANSING snow. The rest of the trip only got better. That is all we'll say of it, for now;

Fyo, the one whose thoughts we gain direct access to (to hell with a fourth wall; give me 50, 500, 5,000,000 more walls, and I will break them all), generally responsible, has a dependable job as a pharmacy technician, "almost" a real job, and two major flaws; here we move into

1.) Intense Manic Episodes On a Yearly, Predictable Basis

-----

Every year, in the period of time spanning between around March and June-Mid-July, Fyo would suffer an intense clinical episode of mania; he would become obsessive over ideas so obscure and opaque that he only sounded like a lunatic when describing them, and indulged in drug abuse as if suicidal, and more than once now had indeed proven to be so. Fyo would and did argue, however, that during these periods of admittedly (even by him) questionable ties to reality, his artistic output became noticeably higher in both quantity and quality than what was usually found in his "seasonal depression" (so-called) episodes during the months of October-February. No psychiatrist has yet explained this adequately.

2.) An Unhealthy Obsession With All Forms of Art, As Well As the Definition of Art Itself

-----

From a very young age, Fyo had shown great interest in art, and strangely enough but of course conspicuously naturally, surrealist art in particular. At 12, on a family vacation to Florida for the purposes of the (back then affordable even by the lower-middle-class family, with some planning) relaxation of the beach and the primal thrill of the Great Twin Amusement Parks, he devoted a day to visiting the Salvador Dali museum in St. Petersburg, Florida; a couple years later, the very first band he was in (at 15 years old) was named after Dali's "The Burning Giraffe". Then he gradually caught on to the growing web of obscurities, myths, exaggerations, half-truths, genuine enigmas, and philosophical contradictions that were accepted by some as truth, and saw the art embedded in life; and in the mirror, he saw the reflection of such, and in that he saw things that moved him in ways he was naïve to previously. That's how he got older. That's how he saw that the waking life was just as absurd as the dream. All that mattered was which space he occupied at a given time;

Tomie, as mentioned previously was both a close friend and ex-girlfriend to both Avey and Fyo. Each relationship was separated by such distance (spatially and temporally) that it really didn't matter, everyone had moved on cross-country and it was just nice to have people just fuckin' caring about each other, you know? Tomie was not afraid to bite into you in a very personal way, as long as she knew it would help you. She was a great ally to have in the world, if sometimes blunt; but this bluntness was out of a genuine kindness and invariably proved effective somehow. If you trusted anyone's advice, it was Tomie's;

Fitch, constantly in-and-out of jail for something or other, after so many years the circumstances blurred out a bit. Being eternally and self-admittedly impermanent, he always seemed almost as if acting in repentance to the best of his abilities; but around people like this, hope for repentance was laughable;

Lil, probably the most adult of the group, an ex-girlfriend of Fyo from back in the day, had worked her way to a very well-paying analytics gig. She still found herself hanging around with these wannabe artists and revolutionaries, for whatever reason; she was certainly always welcome, and that gave her a warm, content feeling.....

"Pick a goddamn record" says Lil.

Every time The Crew got together for some midnight coke-fueled swimming, someone got to ceremoniously choose a record from Fyo's collection, off of which the cover of the cocaine would be inhaled. It was Fyo's night. He was having trouble deciding. The record that was chosen would also be played on the record player while the lines were being drawn and erased; the lines themselves were on the sleeve, the small but not ignorable visual component of the LP. He looked through his stack; Joyce Manor (played a show with them before they became big--frontman was kind of an asshole. No.), The Antlers (far too sad for shamelessly inhaled thrills), Talking Heads (no, we'll just end up putting "Once In a Lifetime" on repeat), no, no, no, no.....LCD Soundsystem? Hm. Yeah, this one. Sound of Silver, talk to me.

"Fuckin' finally. Okay let's get this train wreck a-rollin'."

Greed filled the eyes of everyone in the room. Along with record-choosing duties came the first line of the night. Fyo lays down one FAT fucking line, finely crushed almost down to the individual molecule it seemed, grabs the closest straw, leans over and looks down at the snowy mountain range here in the middle of the silver desert, and unflatteringly snorts with all his might, and feels each crystal immediately begin its own personal attack on his neurotransmitters, leans back to make sure everything falls into the mucous membrane, nothing wasted, except for Fyo himself, and steps back to fall comically onto the couch, a smile of contentment and even relief overtaking his facial expression as Nancy Whang chants "You can normalize. Don't it make you feel alive?"

This. This is the life.

#fiction #short story #drugs #punk #punk rock #diy #metamodern #metaphysical #arkansas #little rock #lcd soundsystem #surrealism #salvador dali #addiction

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againstthegrainphoto · 6 years

Text

...too booked to be bothered...

....I might be a little overwhelmed right now...

...with all the work and photos and holidays and shit that’s going on.....

.....but I”ve been holding in so much word vomit, I really need to puke.

so unfortunately due to the fact that facebook is full of people who would judge me and tell me I am wrong and a horrible person and a victim shammer and racist and god knows whatever else after I get these thoughts out....you get them here tumblr! Call me whatever you want.....I couldn’t care less.

tumblr: where I hide nothing and am actually the most real to myself than any other god forsaken social media. I mean how well can you even know someone by their social media though? fucking ridiculous.

So sit down. buckle up. this is going to be an extremely long one, spanning many issues.

First off. I my uncle died on friday. I’ve been silent on the issue. Is it bad I mourn for my mom and his might as well be wife? Not so much him. He spent his life ruining it with drinking and smoking and bad choices that negatively affected those around him. He waited until he couldn’t talk before going to get a fucking TUMOR even assessed by a doctor. and didn’t even sign himself up for medicare until his brother basically did it for him after the “discovery” of the tumor. What do you mean he had throat cancer? I thought 60 years of smoking is good for you?!?!*shock* My heart breaks for my mom and his wife(ish). I am really worried that the wife(ish) is going to be like “well he gave up, so i might as well too”.....like even if it’s not a conscious thought or decision....maybe especially if its not. ya know? the whole situation just sucks.

People are so shitty to each other. So shitty. Like, I’m a not-really-participating-member of the “beauty community” or whatever you want to call it. But I am a fairly large consumer of the beauty world. I have a fucking addiction to makeup. I love it. I want it. I collect it. I spend way too much money on it. I buy it for my friends. I buy it for me. I buy it for my family. And I like to keep up on the front cutting edge of what’s happening and what’s new and what’s available and what is the very best product. I also can’t afford to purchase every high end makeup release, but I do like watching and hearing others opinions about them. It’s just sad to see that the more widely viewed/available/posting reviewers are such shady, backhanded, backstabbing people. And not just that, but fucking FAKE. their videos and such are so positive and good looking, but if you follow them in any other form they show they are such fake ass drama creating bullshit. not to name names, but I literally cannot stand jacylin hill or laura lee or nikki tutorials and thier fucking boring ass makeup and annoying high school personalities....yet they have their own fucking palettes? how are these people the ones that get their fucking name on the make up?? why don’t companies choose people with an ounce of creativity?!??! I’m not saying I love and adore jeffree star....but goddamn he makes cool original and creative products. I also am not a fan of kat von d......but if you make a fucking stunning product...I will buy it. (re: saint/sinner palette.......so far worth every penny....i love it....and really if you do the math you’re paying like $2.60 per shadow in that thing.....totally better than the serpentina palette I talk shit about every chance I get...).....Seeing them as so annoying makes watching their videos close to impossible because you develop such a hatred for them and who they are.

This halloween I had such a hard time stomaching all the bullshit that was being passed around regarding children’s costumes. In my mind I really do think that there is a line...and it’s not THAT gray.....between being disrespectful to a culture (ie “cultural appropriation”) and having an appreciation of a culture. Example: I shared an article about a Chilkat robe that was returned to alaska. I do not believe that having it hung in their house was WRONG. and I feel like I should have clarified this when I shared the article instead of just saying that I appreciated it. What I really appreciated was that an ORIGINAL FUCKING ARTIFACT was returned to its origin to be kept and studied and passed on for the heritage. Hanging native alaskan art I do not believe is wrong. FYI THEY FUCKING SELL IT. YOU CAN PURCHASE IT WHEN YOU GO THERE. THE NATIVE ARTISTS MAKE MONEY THIS WAY. THEY WANT YOU TO BUY IT AND HANG IT ON YOUR FUCKING WALLS. Hanging native american art in your house and admiring it’s beauty IS NOT FUCKING CULTURAL APPROPRIATION. Now what I do believe is not so great would be emphasizing things of a culture that are cliche or negative. Like dressing up as say like a Muslim terrorist for halloween.....That I believe is wrong. Most Muslims are not terrorists........you dressing up as that for halloween is not appreciating their culture...it’s you being part of the problem by promoting the idea that terrorists are Muslim and Muslims are terrorists......but your child wanting to dress up as Mulan or...what was it this year? Moana? right? like there was press about making sure your fucking 6 year old isn’t allowed to dress up as her. I do not think that is not cultural appropriation. The only reason why they would want to dress up like this is because they think this character is the greatest thing ever and want to be them. That is appreciation. And most likely they have zero regard for what color their hero’s skin is. It’s so horrible for a white little girl to want to be Pocahontas or Mulan but how many little not-white little girls wanted to be Ariel or Belle? or Aurora? AND STILL DO TO THIS DAY? no one talks about them? They should not be limited to only wanting to be the princess of their own skin color!! none of the children should. That’s how you fucking START racism is it not?? Jesus christ. I maybe pale as fuck......but just for the record I am a papered and registered native. Like I literally carry a card and have multiple certificates certifying that I am native. Like there is question to even whether or not “eskimo” is a negative slur now apparently. But that’s what my goddamn papers say I am. God I’m just so over all this “cultural appropriation” bullshit we are inundated with every goddamn day. We are all fucking humans. Let us (and children especially) appreciate what we personally like.

Moving on in this word spewing of views that I’m sure some of you don’t agree with.

Fucking sexual assault. Another thing I am so goddamn over right now. Does it need to stop? Fucking yes it does. Some of the things coming out of the woodwork are absolutely appalling. But the problem lies with.....well...THE LIES. Just like a dude is totally capable of sexually assaulting a girl....a girl is totally capable...if not even more capable...of lying about a dude assaulting her. And regarding this within the music scene.....Is there ARE groupies. There are tons and tons of fucking crazy fans out there. I’ve seen them with my own eyes. They’ve left weird comments on my own photos. And that’s partially the problem is that we believe an half crazed girl who says “*insert any talented hack with a bit of fame behind their name here* sexually assaulted me!!!” over any other facts. And if we don’t believe her we are “victim shaming”....Unfortunately, I have seen those that are crazy enough to say something like this to get a bit of fame. I have seen the girl who vaguebooks every goddamn day. I have seen the girl who fucks her way up the social ladder.....it’s only a matter of time before she’ll start claiming “abuse”. Do I think every case is fame fueled, career damaging, revenge for not paying attention to a fan, bat shit crazy bitch claiming sexual assault?....no. not at all. There are fucking disgusting dudes out there making music and have been proven time and time again that they are exactly what they are shown to be: sexual predators. I’m not going to name names.....but I know a couple names that come to the top of my mind. One never had my support......I mean you just can NOT have a target audience with an average age of 12 and have lyrics about “liking it better on the floor” and “make you wanna fuck all night” and “she sucks me till it snows, i’ll fuck her face so hard”.....I”M SORRY. NO. I’m getting pissed off just looking up these fucking horrible lyrics. fucking talentless joke of a human being. I also personally witnessed this person show his full ass to a crowd of fucking 12 year olds. Pretty sure that’s frowned upon and why the spd were out by his bus after the show. Of course....obviously....nothing serious came of it and it was swept under the rug. The other....just makes me sad. His own words were his own conviction. Calling out and berating girls while confessing his less than innocent relations with them in a public form seen by thousands. girl. bye. So it’s totally not that sexual assault doesn’t happen in the music scene.....but I’ve literally seen more fucking batshit crazy bitches than I have seen sexual preditors. I just feel like no one takes an objective view of it??? it’s all “SHE WAS ASSAULTED!!!! HE DESERVES HIS CAREER RUINED AND DEATH!!!”....no one is listening to the accused in these cases. it’s all a fucking head hunt......I’m seriously concerned for the band decapitation. they’ve been stuck out of their home country for months now. their band is ruined. their reputations are ruined. and unless they ACTUALLY fucking gang raped this spokane girl......well...their lives as they know it are over regardless.....if they actually did rape her then their lives are actually over and they get what they deserve.....BUT so much inconsistencies???....and one of the girls was pulled over for dui?....and is it really going to boil down to whether or not the girl gave consent?....I mean who can be the judge of that??? it’s all going to be on her word.....and she has a documented history of providing false information to the police before??.....christ....what a shitshow......so far the only musician that I can 100% back up the ruining of his career and his death is ian watkins from lostprophets. that dude can die and then fucking rot in purgatory....hell is too good for him.

moving on.

My local scene. my peeps. muh regulars. The division amongst them the past few months has been sad to me. The solidarity that we had a year ago is gone for good. I really don’t think it’s ever coming back. it’s like it got divorced. What’s funny is while I am a part of this group.....I am not TRULY a part of it. even though I consider it my own. I actually have very few friendships within this group, sure I’m facebook “friends” with all these people. But I am more a documenter of this subculture. yeah I look and like and dress the part. yeah I’m at most the events. yeah people are beginning to recognize me without me having ever met them. But but my true real connections are very few. Am I sad about this? no. not at all. I am 120% ok with this. By being someone who is basically outside looking in.......I can see things perhaps others don’t see. Some of the most “popular” people in this crowd........they are not the most beautiful people. And this has nothing to do with appearance. We are goth. We are all beautiful on the outside. But that just means I will avoid them. Basically if I avoid you.....that means I see you as a either negative input in my life and I don’t want it or I am unsure of how you feel about me. If I make an effort to spend time with you....that means I see you as a positive energy and I’ll take all I can get. lol. Honestly though. it’s like the cool photographer’s club.....the same people. at the same shows. every time. I don’t need it. I don’t need others approval. I don’t take photos for others. I take photos for me. if others enjoy them. that’s cool. But they’re for me. it’s like my image journal and/or catalogue of all the cool shit i’ve seen in my life. all the songs i’ve heard. My boss was all “I went to a concert once”......I’m like.....I’ve been to four in the past week and I’m drowning in photos. I think it’s bullshit to do free photos for national touring artists then charge the locals to even take photos. that’s being part of the problem. What new good bands are there? Everything happening right now is shit from the mid 2000s if not earlier. in the past like 18 months or so i’ve seen genitorturers, my life with the thrill kill kult, lords of acid, combichrist, christian death, incubus, jimmy eat world, wednesday 13, pig, orgy/julien k, iron maiden, gwar, vertical horizon, everclear, fastball, sabaton, eve 6, vanessa carlton, john 5, dope, lordi, powerman5000, pretty boy floyd, buckcherry, sebastian bach, opeth, faster pussycat, marilyn manson, slipknot, korn, rob zombie, 16 volt, tim skold, filter......HONESTLY the only newcomer with any staying power is fucking GHOST. which is why I’m even on this godforsaken site. Also in this moment might *MIGHT* have staying power....their show is pretty goddamn epic. It’s just not my thing though. I’m not into it. I mean....not gonna lie.....I liked the beautiful tragedy album.....when they played live they had screens with their logo on it and she was in a little yellow sundress and converse sneakers. Let me know if you want to see those photos. lolz. I laugh at those who photo for likes on facebook or instagram. it must be such a sad existence. A cool photog i’ve connected with recently is photoslavery...look her up......we have a lot of the same views on things and it’s refreshing to find another photog doing it for the fucking ART of doing it. also we use a similar arsenal of tricks.....which is funny......cause it’s a pretty unpopular/unknown?(doubtful)/unappreciated set up. But I obviously don’t listen to what’s known and popular. I heard a phrase the other day that just resonated with me....”too booked to be bothered”.....THAT IS ME. lol. I do not have time to be bothered by trivial things from irrelevant sources....

well I’ve been typing for ages. and I feel a bit better after I’ve vomited all this out. it’s been a rough few weeks.

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4jimin · 7 years

Text

change my mind

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin; jikook/kookmin Genre: Fluff (a lot), college au, friends to lovers Length: 7k words; 3 chapters | crossposted on ao3 Summary: “I don’t do relationships,” Jimin spills in the fresh air of the fast food – a mixed smell of hamburgers, ketchup and french fries surrounding them. “I enjoy the conquest and the flirting part better. Relationships are always so boring and predictable. Not to mention most of the times fake.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and laughs, pretending he doesn’t feel his heart clench and slightly sink inside his chest. “You’re helpless.” Jimin smiles at him, and it’s almost unfair. “Call me realistic.” he corrects, taking a greasy thumb till his lips to clean it out of the oil of the food. He repeats the same action with the rest of his fingers. Jungkook has to divert his gaze, scared he might end up staring too hard. He snorts with a made up irritation. “I call you a pain in the ass.”

“Love means never having to say you're sorry”. It's written with white chalk on the blackboard hanging by the wall a few tables across him. It quotes “love story, 1970” in a smaller calligraphy right beneath the sentence. Jungkook dwells in the words for a while. He observes the vintage posters pending from the newly painted lilac walls around him with a forced interest, as he taps with long fingers on the plastic cup of cola he ordered. Bullshit, he decides. What is even supposed to mean? That you can't mess up because you love someone? Or that you can't say sorry, because if someone loves you they instantly forgive you, it doesn’t matter what you did? Either way, bullshit. People give too much credit for things just for being old. He sighs, the scent of fresh paint invading his lungs. It used to be baby yellow. The walls. Before the place was just a normal coffee shop and not a fast food with a coupled bookstore. “It's not going to work out,” Jungkook remembers Namjoon saying when they were passing in front of the place being renovated, “people will have greasy fingers from their hamburgers. How will they touch the books like this? The covers will be all disgusting after some time.” Jungkook just shrugged back then. He doesn’t really remember if he agreed or not. But, it turns out Namjoon was wrong. There is a glass wall separating the bookstore from the fast food, so the smell of french fries and cheddar won’t mix with the scent of newly printed copies and fresh ink – also, people has enough sense to clean their hands before moving to the books section, so, by far, the recent business seems to be going very well. Jungkook can’t decide if he prefers the prettier environment it became after the reform, or the calmness it used to have before the appealing design of modernity attracted an alarming number of people. Probably the calmness, since it wouldn’t take so long for Jimin to change a wrong order. The waiter had somehow mixed it with someone else's, getting the boy a double chicken with extra cheddar when he had asked for a steak with barbecue sauce and cream cheese. After opening his hamburger, Jimin had grimaced with the funniest – and maybe kind of cute? – nose scrunch ever. “I hate cheddar.” He stated, as if it wasn’t obvious by the utterly disgusted expression on his face. Another discovery for his on-making list of things about Park Jimin. “How dare you?!” Jungkook had brought a hand to his chest at the declaration, just for the sake of accentuating drama. “I trusted you.” He choked out in fake offense, hoping to hear the older boy's laugh. Unfortunately, he had been given only a faint chuckle followed by a roll of eyes and a “You're an idiot, Jeon. I'll be right back.”, before Jimin got up from his seat and disappeared on his walk till the counter, in search for the right order. They've known each other for five months now – not that Jungkook is counting, it just happened for them to meet on the exact same day the latest movie of Avengers was out, so it also just happened for him to have the day tracked in his mind. Coincidences of life. Anyway, it's little time – Jungkook knows –, and it was definitely not enough to deepen their relationship the way he wished – but, nevertheless, it's nice. They are past the awkward silences and the weird topic's conversations it has some time now, and it isn’t like they are the most intimate people in the world, but yeah, they have some intimacy. Enough that Jungkook has grown used to regularly tease Jimin about his height or – this one Jimin hates the most – his fingers. He bites the inner part of his cheek in order to repress a smile at the memory of Jimin cutely glaring at him with rosy cheeks when Jungkook told him he had baby hands for the first time. He tries not to think about it for too long though, scared he might blush just as hard as Jimin did that day.

There is a foreign song comfortably floating around the place. He is almost sure it belongs to Coldplay, or to a band with equivalent musical genre. It's nice, but he is growing impatient and his lunch is cooling down untouched in front of him – consequently losing half of the unhealthy flavor only a fast food could provide. He wonders if getting up to see how much longer it would take for Jimin to come back would be rude of him. Maybe it would. So instead, he chooses to open the (mostly useless) notifications on his phone. There's a message from Jin and another from his dad. The one asking if he has eaten belongs to Jin. Not that he is surprised. He smiles, typing 'yes mom' – because well, he is about to –, and decides to ignore the one from his father, which questions him when he is paying them a visit. His smile almost fades, but then he clicks on Jimin's icon, leading to their conversation thread.

Jiminie – 11:45 am why are you online u kid shouldn’t u be on class?

You – 11:46 am i am and stop calling me kid

Jiminie – 11:46 am ohhh seems like we have a rebel here lmao

You – 11:46 am shut up asdjk aren't you supposed to be on class too?

Jiminie – 11:47 am …

You – 11:47 am ;)

Jiminie – 11:47 am dont you ;) me !!

You – 11:47 am ;)

Jiminie – 11:47 am ugh

You – 11:49 am hey wanna grab some lunch after class? the fast food that reopened seems nice

Jiminie – 11:49 am the one across the street?

You – 11:50 am yea

Jiminie – 11:50 am do you like being with me that much? ;)

You – 11:50 am shit up look who's ;)-ing me now i just need company to eat

Jiminie – 11:50 am shit up

You – 11:51 am !! istg!!!

Jiminie – 11:51 am lmao meet me at 12:30 at the central gate

You – 11:52 am just changed my mind im calling someone else, you suck

Jiminie – 11:53 am yeah right

He didn’t change his mind. Nor did he call someone else. How could he, honestly? “Hey there.” Jungkook hears the voice he's already so familiar with, and smiles. “I'm back.” “Oh, nice,” he pretends to check the time on his nonexistent watch. “Just took you a lifetime.” “Shut up.” Jimin chuckles, taking his seat in front of the younger. “I decided to change my previous order.” Jungkook leans back on his chair, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to the side. “No…” he drags the words out, disbeliefed. He had literally taken ten whole minutes to decide his order when they got there. Jimin giggles, following the same tone in a playful manner. “Yes…” The younger boy adjusts his posture, eyeing the other with something akin to incredulity. “How are you the most indecisive person in the whole entire world?!” he jokes, catching some fries from his tray, and shaking his head with a smile. “I just… like most things on the menu, okay?” Jimin tries to defend himself, sipping his orange juice from the straw. Hates cheddar and loves orange juice. Jungkook gave up on understanding him from there. “Except–“ he starts, already laughing, but is cut off. “Except the double chicken with extra cheddar, yes.” The older rolls his eyes, an habit he is very much attached to – almost as much as his uncontrollable urge of running his fingers through his hair. Jungkook is surprised he still haven't done it in, what? Three minutes? “You know, how fucked up is this?” Jimin drops the question, placing his elbow on the table to look at Jungkook with his face leaning on his hand. “The menu has like, at least thirty different hamburgers and mine got to get mixed with the only one I absolutely hate. I'd eat any other one.” Jungkook laughs at his misery, because they are past the phase where this kind of reaction could be read as rude. “I guess coincidences are really out there to bite us in the ass in our worst moments.” Jimin sighs, defeated. Jungkook shakes his head, shoving another portion of fries into his mouth. “Or perharps, you're just the unluckiest person in the world for the day.” Smiling, the older frowns, and unwraps his hamburger to take a bite. “What's this, a theory?” he asks after swallowing the food – because he's polite, unlike Jungkook, who speaks with his mouth partially full all the time. Not that any of them really cares. “What do you mean?” Jungkook doesn’t get the line of thought. “Like…” Jimin shifts on his seat to find a more comfortable position, “Do you think that there is a day for every person in the world to be the unluckiest?” Jungkook laughs, amused by how a random choice of words he made, aroused this kind of questioning on the boy. “Um, I don’t know? I've never really stopped to think about it, but maybe? It might.” He is about to remove the paper enveloping his own hamburger when an idea surges in his mind and lights up his features. “Oh! How about we do an experience?” “Experience?” Jimin smiles, never really able to not to when he is around the younger – because there is a thing about Jeon Jungkook that just keeps on impelling his cheeks to rose up and flush without his consent. It'd be frustrating if it wasn’t endearing. “Yeah, experience! You're our subject. If bad things enough happen to you today, then it's a proven theory.” He nods confidently. Jimin licks his lips before speaking. “I'm pretty sure every scientist out there in the world would be flattered by our revolutionary method of research.” They laugh, and Jungkook takes the chance to fully stare at Jimin – he is so pretty. However, the older's smile fades way too quickly, replaced by a sudden curious expression when Jungkook unwraps his hamburger. “Oh! Didn’t you tell me you were vegetarian before?” he asks, pointing at the food with a good piece of meat between the breads. Jungkook archs his eyebrows, genuinely surprised. “Oh? Do you remember that? It was like, months ago.” Jimin looks away, humming a sort of agreement and Jungkook almost thinks he sees the lightest of the pinks coloring his cheeks. “Ah…” he tries not to focus on it too much – it might make him delusional –, and concentrates on his response instead. “I don’t… You got it wrong. I'm trying to turn vegetarian. But fast food is kind of the misfortune of my attempts. And the meat here… Well, let's be honest, it doesn’t really tastes like meat.” The older giggles, sucking more juice from the straw afterwards. “But why did you decide this?” he licks his lips to catch some drops of the juice that accumulated on it and Jungkook has to try unusually hard to not stare. “Mhm, I…” he clicks his tongue in order to regain his focus and elaborate an answer, “I just… Don’t think eating animals is right.” Clever. Very clever, great job, Jeon. He facepalms himself inwardly. The problem is: he is always put on a challenge whenever he has to explain his ideals – he feels like he's pressured to convince the other person what he believes is right, and this, he just hates. Usually, because people tend to get defensive pretty fast, but also because he understands he can be wrong and that is okay for other people to not follow the same way of living as him. He just believes in what he believes and that's it. Jimin bites the corner of his lips, looking up thoughtful. “Yeah, but I don’t think anyone thinks it's right? I mean, don’t we just need it? As a vital necessity for our daily pack of energy as humans or something?” Jungkook decides to finally take a bite of his hamburger. “Not really. I mean,” he swallows, “of course it's important and it helps, but there are many potential substitutes. At least, for me it works. It doesn’t for everyone though. Some people really need it to survive, but since I don’t… what bad it does, right?” Jimin smiles, genuinely interested and Jungkook stupidly flushes. Seriously. “What made you get into it?” “Ah.” he bites his lower lip. It's not a topic he was expecting to talk about while they were eating. “It's a cruel system.” He stops himself when he is about to add an 'I think' in the end of the sentence. It's not an opinion; at least not this. It's the truth. “I kinda got disgusted of eating meat after watching a documentary about the way animals are treated in slaughterhouses. It's… unpleasant to know.” “Oh.” Jimin puts his lunch down. “I feel bad now.” “No, don’t feel!” Jungkook hurries. “I mean. Yeah, okay, you can feel, cause it's bad, but it's not like only one person can change the way this industry treats animals by not buying any more meat, so…” He explains. “I understand that, I'm trying to stop just because I truly feel disgusted now. I don’t enjoy the taste. Well, except for this. Fast food is my only weakness. And chicken nuggets.” Jimin nods and tries to lighten the atmosphere, changing the subject of conversation. “Oh! Just like soda to me.” Jungkook archs an eyebrow, ready to tease. “But you drink beer?” The older doesn’t answer, caught in a trap. “Seems logical.” He laughs hard when Jimin leans over the table to slap his arm. “Shut up.” He repeats for probably the tenth time that day. “It's addicting.” “I know. Even though it tastes like shit.” Jimin rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his hair and pushing his bangs backwards. Oh, there it is. Some strands get back on its place, but his forehead remains mainly exposed. It's a great sight. “Kid.” Jungkook rushes to defend himself. “M' not! Sayeon-noona is the same age as you and she agrees with me!” “Another kid!” Jimin accuses and laughs. Jungkook's scowl almost instantly disappears, as he gets busier being overwhelmed by the sound. “How is she, by the way?” How are you two?, he knows it's what it means. There's a sigh asking for allowance to escape from Jungkook's throat, but he reprimands it. “I guess we're really just friends, after all. We don't work out as a couple.” Jimin hums. “I'm… sorry to hear that.” “No, it's okay, truly. It's nice like this.” Jungkook takes the chance to sip another gulp on his drink, before asking, “What about you?” Jimin purses his lips to contain a smile, while shaking his head to the sides. His bangs move cutely, falling over his forehead again – almost calling for Jungkook's fingers to move them aside, so his beautiful skin can be fully on display once more. He swallows the urge, taking his hand to scratch his nape instead. “I'm the unromantic romantic type.” Jimin muses, and Jungkook frowns. “What?” he laughs, confused. “What do you mean?” “I don’t do relationships,” he states and Jungkook can almost feel his heart sinking at the words, but he pretends it's the ghostly sensation of the soda's gas on his throat. “Cause I enjoy the conquest and flirting part better.” The boy is suddenly amused at the reason. “Why?” Jimin clicks his tongue. “I like the nervousness of the unknown. The fluttering heart and the stomach's butterflies at the beginning. But that's it. I don’t like what comes next. The boredom of relationship, always so predictable and…? I don’t know, I don’t like it.” Jungkook nods understandingly, but not really agreeing. “It isn’t always like that, though, you know?” “Oh, please.” Jimin smiles. “You know it is.” “It's not!” Jungkook is smiling too, but he feels defensive, ready to stand for his point of view. “If your relationships are being predictable and boring, then you're dating wrong.” Jimin chews on a lonesome fry, before letting out, “Uh, I never dated.” He takes a moment to absorb the information. Park Jimin never… What? Jeon Jungkook is beyond offended. He stares at Jimin for a long second – mouth gaping for effect –, before playfully slamming his fist on the table with a fake angry expression, dragging the most gorgeous and contagious laugh ever out of Jimin's throat. He almost forgets what he is doing when the older squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back, having Jungkook's own lips unconsciously quirking upwards into a giggle as he watches him. When Jimin composes himself again, Jungkook continues dramatically. “How can you possibly say you hate, with capital h, relationships, when you have never even once experienced one?!” Jimin shrugs, nonchalantly – yet, still with remainings of a playful chuckle on his features. “I just know.” “That's aburd. And impossible.” He emphasizes. “It is not!” It's Jimin's turn to stand for what he believes, it seems. “You have to agree with me that the flirting part is the best one.” Jungkook ponders for a second, just to sigh defeated on the other, already flashing a victorious smirk on his hyung's lips. “Well, yes, but only because I've been through a lot of shitty relationships.” “Jungkook… My dearest dear Jungkook… Let's be honest here.” Jimin closes his eyes while holding Jungkook's wrists for drama's sake, and then sighs even more dramatically when he blinks his eyes open to look at him again. “Every relationship is shitty.” Jungkook snorts. “Hyung! You're being very unfair and unconsiderate with every healthy and happy relationship out there in the world!” Jimin laughs. “Which is none.” “I'm offended.” Jungkook says, looking away with a pout and crossed arms, getting Jimin extra aware on his seat. “Wait, for real?” The boy eyes him, reluctant on his play. “No, but…” he lets his arm fall, already giving up on the act. “I mean, come on, there must be a relationship you look at and say, 'that's it, relationship goals'.” Jimin fakes a gag and Jungkook can’t help but chuckle at the sight. Fucking idiot. “Thankfully never.” “You're helpless.” “Call me realistic.” Jimin corrects him, taking a thumb till his lips to clean it out of the oil of the food. He repeats the same thing with the rest of his fingers. Jungkook diverts his gaze, scared he might end up staring too hard. “I call you a pain in the ass. Outch!” he complains when Jimin punches his shoulder – even though it didn't really hurt. “Respect your hyung, brat.” It's Jungkook's turn to roll his eyes – although, he keeps silent, eating the remainings of his now withered fries, and drinking the rest of his cola, hamburger already being digested inside his stomach. Jimin, however, is still on half of his burger, almost all of his fries out of the red container and scattered over his tray. “How do you eat so slowly?!” Jungkook asks, nearly shocked. Jimin answers him mouthful for the first time and Jungkook has to bite back a smile at his puffed cheeks. “Well, I'm sorry if I don’t eat like a starving tinasor!” Jungkook furrows his brows. “A tinawhat?” He swallows before speaking again. “Dinosaur!” The younger takes a hand to his chest, faking offense. “I don’t eat like a starving dinosaur! You're the one who eats like a slug!” Jimin rolls his eyes at him and sticks out his tongue. Jungkook has to chuckle in order to pretend he's not on the verge of melting. “You're so cute.” He lets out before his mind processes it. Well, shit. “I mean,” he tries to correct it, but just ends up pointing at Jimin's entire face. “Cute.” The black haired boy flushes so hard even his ears turn pink. “Shut up.” He mutters a second before taking the white straw to his mouth, the plastic turning orange when he sucks the liquid from the cup. He has such nice lips it's distracting. Jungkook misses the chance to tease him for blushing thanks to it. “Uh.” He forces a cough. “So.” And scratches the back of his neck, because it's terribly itching all of a sudden. Jimin's phone vibrating on the table saves him from the embarrassment and also from an awkward silence it was for sure going to settle on the table. The older takes the gadget on his free hand and presses the side button so the lockscreen lights up. “Ah!” Jimin groans, throwing his head back. Curious, Jungkook leans his cheek on the palm of his hand and asks, “What is it?” Jimin snorts, seemingly annoyed. “This guy.” He doesn’t look back at Jungkook to answer, busy trying to type something on the phone with a single hand. “I told him I didn’t want nothing serious, but now that we fucked he keeps on texting me, asking me to go out with him and shit.” The younger nods, and bites the inner part of his bottom lip, pondering what to say. He almost smiles, dying to tease with an “are you that good?!” – but ends up choosing the most secure option. “Why don’t you?” “Dates sucks. And the whole idea of going out already fades the conquest.” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows for probably the tenth time on the day – his never ending battle of trying to understand Park Jimin – and reclines on the backrest. “Um, no?” Jimin turns his attention back at him. “Um, yes?” He places the phone on the table. “I mean, if you're going out with someone it means the flirting is done, because well, the purpose of flirting is getting a date. Or getting laid.” He adds thoughtfully. “Which I already did. So now it means feelings are about to be involved, and no, thanks.” He emphasizes the last two words and takes another bite of his hamburger, chewing on it while waiting for Jungkook's response, who can only roll his eyes. “Ah, hyung.” He snorts, letting his head fall in defeat. “Why are you like this? Have you even gone to a date, at least? Or you just hate it based on nothing?” Jimin straightens his back, and acts as if he's very offended. “Excuse me? It's not based on nothing. I've analyzed it with my own eyes, you just have to look around.” And so, Jungkook does. Jimin watches him with something akin to amusement on his face. “Not literally, idiot.” “No, let's do this.” Jungkook decides, looking for a table with couple vibes. “There!” He excitedly bounces on his seat once, turning back to Jimin to make sure he is looking the right people. “Those two.” Jimin shakes his head in confusion. “What?” And with no further explanation, Jungkook simply gets up and gestures for Jimin to follow him. “Wh-what, Jungkook!” He quickly gets up when he realizes the boy intends to walk over to the two girls at the other side of the restaurant. “What the hell, are you crazy?!” He hurries to grab the younger's arm with both hands, attempting to pull him back to his chair. There are firm muscles bulging against his palms, but he ignores it with a gulp. “What?” he asks indifferently. “I'mma just ask them some things.” He has a calm expression on his face, as if he's not about to approach two strangers about their supposed love life. Jimin laughs with incredulity. “Yeah, not happening.” He tugs at the arm more insistently. Jungkook doesn’t flinch a centimeter. “What, why not?” Shining, big doe eyes winks back at him innocently and Jimin can’t decide if the he is naive or just dumb. “Um, because that's very impolite? And extremely invasive.” Jimin eyes the couple discreetly for a second. The girl with blonde short hair is leaning with forearms on the table, attentively listening to what the other is saying, and adorning a tender smile across her pink lips. Jimin can’t see the face of the one speaking, but her long hair lays on her back in soft bluish curls. They both seem very pretty. “You also don’t even know if they’re like… a thing.” Jimin finds himself turning his attention back to Jungkook just in time to catch the boy rolling his eyes. It's annoyingly cute. “Oh, please. Just look at them, of course they're a thing.” He doesn’t find much argument against that. He might have never allowed himself to fall in love in his life, but he does recognize a fluttering heart shinning through enamored eyes when he sees one. “Besides, what the hell do you think I'm gonna ask them?! Their sexual lives? No, thanks, Namjoon-hyung's story of his first time eating a guy's ass is traumatic enough.” A grossed out expression makes its way across Jimin's features. “Dude. Thanks for the unnecessary information.” Jungkook tilts his head to the side, smiling sarcastically. Jimin wants to punch it out of his face. With his mouth. Maybe. “You're welcome. Now come.” He's about to complain and step back when Jungkook suddenly grabs his hand and interlocks their fingers. The world kind of spins in a soft blur for a moment and his eyes instantly fall down to it – intertwined fingers clasped together; Jungkook holding firm and he loosely –, which gets his stomach to clench very weirdly. Oh, shit. However, he doesn’t have much time to dwell on how smooth, warm and soft Jungkook's skin feels against his, cause one second he's wondering how it'd feel pressed on his nape – or waist, maybe? – while they make out, and the other he's put in front of two very confused, unknown girls. He forces out a smile to the strangers after a second of hesitation, doing his best at crushing Jungkook's fingers on his, hidden behind their backs. “Hah!” the younger loudly gasps, startling the girls and pulling his hand away from Jimin's grip, quickly forcing a smile on his lips as well. Jimin hopes he felt a lot of pain. Jungkook takes the embarrassing moment to bow in greeting, so Jimin follows suit. “Hello, nice to meet you two. I'm, uh, I'm Jungkook and this is my friend, Jimin.” Jimin lightly leans his head forward again, a low mutter of something that seems “nice to meet you” falling from his lips. The two girls bow back uncertainly and stare at the both of them in silence. God. Jimin never wanted to deck someone in the face so bad – Jungkook, deck Jungkook, not the girls, for god's sake. Yet, he chooses to poke him with his elbow instead. For the time being. “Ah!” the idiot jolts, clapping his hands once in front of his body, obviously trying to come out with something to say. Jimin is sure he could bury his whole self in pure embarrassment right now. He's already blushing hard enough for the two of them anyway. “I'm sorry to, um, interrupt your meal, it's just that me– Me and my friend,” he reiterates, pulling Jimin closer and Jimin really has to manage all of his self control to not kill the boy right there. “We were talking about dates and we got onto a disagreement, so we're doing… research.” Jimin turns to look at him, a smile that says “I'm so going to murder you” hanging on his lips. “We are?” “Ah. Yes.” Jungkook laughs the threat away. “So, anyway, since you two seemed to be on a really nice date, we thought–“ “Oh.” The short haired girl's voice surges for the first time. She takes a hand to her chest and laughs, seemingly relieved. “Thank god, I thought you were trying to hit on us.” If Jimin's cheeks were flushed before, now they are the red of the flames in hell itself. The other girl also laughs, and gestures with her hand to the both of them. “I'm Eunji and she's Hyerin. But, um, actually… We're not on a date.” Jungkook snaps his head back just the slightest, surprised. “Oh.” He voices out innocently, exactly like a kid who just discovered the ocean is only blue because it reflects the sky. Jimin would find it adorable if he wasn't, you know, dying. “Ah, sorry, we thought– Well, that's not a problem, really.” Jungkook smiles. “Can you still answer our questions, though?” Jimin facepalms himself. Literally speaking. “Please, just say yes, so we can leave and I can kill him after this.” His voice comes out muffled, but he can hear giggles, which means it was audible enough. “Yeah, sure.” One of them say. Jimin finds out it's the one with the blue highlights when he takes his hand out of his face. Eunji, right? “What is it?” He finds himself curious, considering he also has no idea what Jungkook is about to ask, so he redirects his attention to him. “Ah, it's truly just one question.” The boy admits, and Jimin could easily mistake the way he is scratching his neck with nervousness. He watches Jungkook open his mouth once and then be caught in a loss of words, as if he is reconsidering what he's about to ask. Jimin doesn’t have time to say anything though – the younger is quick to talk again. “Do you think dates erase the whole meaning of flirting?” Yes, it's his immediate thought. He halfheartedly shifts his gaze from Jungkook's profile to the girls, so he can see their reactions. Hyerin is the first to answer – she has her head tilted a bit to the side in thought, with a pair of furrowed brows. Jimin feels a faint smile forming on his lips, because she's cute. “I think it depends? It's the first date? Second?” Eunji intervenes. “Why would that matter?” Jimin kind of knows why, but he doesn’t want to interfere in their path of discussion. “Well, if it's the first date maybe not, but if it's the sixth then probably?” He nods, as it was exactly what he was thinking. However, Jungkook doesn’t seem to agree beside him, if the way he keeps on changing his weight from a feet to another is anything to tell. “I mean, if you got to the sixth date, there's a high chance that you're, well, dating.” Hyerin concludes, and Jimin takes the chance to subtly glance at Jungkook, but the boy is still resolute in his opinion, it seems. Eunji is the same apparently, as she places her palm on the table and gapes at Hyerin for a second, almost offended. “Excuse me, but what makes you think couples can't flirt at all? My parents are married for 20 years and they flirt all the time!” “Yes, my grandparents too!” Jungkook decides to buy Eunji's fight, so Jimin steps in. “It's not the same.” Although, he is surprised as Hyerin says the very same thing as him in complete sync. They look at each other with open mouths, right before chuckling and high-fiving. “When you flirt with someone you're already dating, it doesn’t really hold the whole meaning of flirting, since the purpose is making the person whom you flirt with fall in love with you.” she concludes and Jimin almost thinks Eunji doesn't have any other argument to beat this one – except she does. “Well, but you can fall in love with the same person everyday.” And this seems to be the actual K.O., given how Hyerin intensely blushes, ducking her head down and Eunji smiles victoriously. So they're actually on a date, Jimin realizes with a smile on his face that warms all the way to his chest. Smart as ever, Jungkook doesn’t seem to catch on that, smirking at Jimin and quirking his eyebrows twice with a hidden teasing that says “see?”, since he thinks they won the argument. Jimin rolls his eyes just because. Hopeless romantics. “Anyway, in which context did this surge?” Hyerin is quick to ask in order to not let an awkward silence stretches on the table, but just after the words leaves her mouth she seems to realize how they actually sounded. “Oh, sorry, I-I didn’t mean to be rude or intrude, I was just curious.” “It's okay.” Jimin reassures with a warm smile, and when he is about to tell her and reasonably explain his point, Jungkook decides to be a dick and paint him as the shallow asshole by cutting him off before he even started talking. “He hates relationships. And he thinks dates sucks.” Jimin punchs his arm, embarrassed. “Yah!” His cheeks feels warm and the grin Jungkook gifts him with does nothing to ease it. “What?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot. “It's your own words! Do they sound completely heartless when I say it to other people?” Jungkook teases and Jimin purses his lips, focusing really hard on stopping blushing so he doesn’t make a fool of himself. “Shut up, I have plenty of reasons.” Jimin emphasizes and Jungkook mocks him by pinching his cheek in front of two strangers. Oh boy, he's dead. “Mhm-mhm, I bet you do, you red baby.” He coos. Oh boy, he's dead. “Oh, we have similar opinions,” Hyerin's voice snaps them out of their personal bubble, “but I don’t think dates sucks.” Jimin sighs. He is alone in this battle, apparently. “But you used to!” Eunji points an accusing finger at the short haired girl. She rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, but I don’t anymore!” Hyerin protests in her own defense. “Stop exposing me.” she mutters. “But what made you change your mind?” Jungkook asks, genuinely curious. “About dates, I mean.” “Well,” Eunji starts in Hyerin's place. “I guess she had to go through a series of many awesome dates, right?” They share an accomplice gaze and Jimin knows it's time for them to leave the girls alone again. “Okay, so. Thank you so much for helping with this idiot's “research”, I'm sure he'll make good use of it being a pain in the ass later.” The girls smile sincerely, politely bowing their heads afterwards. Jimin places a hand on Jungkook's back motioning for him to move back to their table. When he starts walking, Jimin takes a second to lean down a little and whisper so only the girls can hear him, “Enjoy your date.” Hyerin cheeks turns pink instantly, but Eunji simply waves at him, a loving smile adorning her features. “You too.” she whispers back. Before Jimin can clarify he and Jungkook aren’t on a date, said boy holds his waist and waves the girls goodbye over their shoulders. “Thank you!” the younger makes sure to give them his brightest smile. Jimin isn’t able to catch it in full hd though, because Jungkook’s hand on his waist is currently making the skin beneath his jacket tingle in a funny way. ”What did you whisper to them?” the boy questions when they are almost at their table. Jimin has to pull up a small battle with his brain to detach himself from Jungkook's touch so he can reach his seat. He waits for Jungkook to do the same to speak. “I told them to have a good date.” The boy in front of him seems very shocked, much for Jimin's amusement. He chews on a now very cold fry, waiting for Jungkook’s answer. “What– how rude! Hyung, they told us they were not on a date!” Oh god, was he still clueless? For real? Jimin swallows. “Jungkookie. They are on a date.” “Bullshit, they're not–“ he insists confidently at first, but as soon as he turns his body back to take a glance at the girls and spots their shy hands curling in one another, he gulps his previous words. “Shit, they're on a date.” “No joke, Einstein.” Jimin teases. “Now stop staring, they just stopped thinking we're weird and I'd like to keep that way, thank you.” Jungkook does as he's asked, but Jimin can see a hint of offense on his eyes. “They lied to us. Why would they do that?” He shoots Jungkook a face, and the offense painted on the younger's face only grows ten thousands bigger. He places a hand over his chest and almost chokes out, “Do we look like homophobes?!” Jimin rolls his eyes at the boy's innocence. “Jungkook, seriously, when you go out with someone of the same sex as you in an homophobic country, everyone around you looks like homophobes. I thought you would know that.” “Oh.” His face softens. “Right.” And then he smiles. “That's good, then, they form such a cute couple.” Jimin hums agreeing, finally finishing his hamburger with a last bite. His fingers are greasy, so he takes a napkin to clean them and when he looks up, Jungkook smiles a smile with no teeth that makes his cheeks plump up like two little red apples. Jimin knows that smile. He's seen it before. “What?” he asks cautiously, sensing an idea forming in the younger's mind. He's planning something. Something stupid, probably. Once, they were trying to chill in an ice cream shop with Taehyung. Jimin remembers the day was unbearably scorching – and even inside the refrigerated place, there were droplets of sweat forming on the back of his neck, turning the tips of his hair humid. They were talking and trying to distract themselves from the heat as well from the upcoming finals. The topic of the conversation was human beings physical limitations. Don’t ask him how they got there, they just did. Apart from the hot weather, the atmosphere was nice and cozy; their fingers and lips smeared with sweet, Taehyung being the messiest of the three – but that was no news –, and their voices occasionally overlapping one another as they shot random guesses of how much ice cream a person could eat in one sitting. When a mutual agreement – between Jimin and Taehyung – settled that 15 scoops was the limit, the table fell in silence. Jungkook wasn’t pleased. He stared at the older boys with a cocky wriggle of eyebrow and then smiled the way he was smiling now. Before anyone could even say a word, he called for the waitress and well, proved Jimin and Taehyung were wrong by eating twenty scoops of ice cream. Twenty. Jimin almost felt impelled to go and eat twenty one just because, but he wasn’t that suicidal. “What do you have on your schedule today?” Jungkook asks, leaning his head on his hand and blinking his eyelashes in a way it's kind of hard to stare at without getting a heartbeat to skip. A seminar to finish, dance practice for the upcoming performance and a good lay at night, he remembers. “Nothing.” he answers, “Why?” At that, Jungkook's smile grows so wide Jimin's heart clenches and it's awkward, because what the hell. However, he has no time to freak out since Jungkook is suddenly grabbing their personal belongings and shoving it all down his backpack. “What are you doing?” his voice sounds genuinely confused, just how he feels. “Come.” The younger simply gets up and says – as if it's very self explainable –, looking around the table and tapping his pockets to check if everything's there. When Jimin keeps his butt glued to the chair, Jungkook diverts his focus to him. “You're not coming?” he seems puzzled and maybe a bit taken aback, but that’s probably just Jimin reading his actions too deeply. “Coming where?” And that’s when Jimin has to hold back all his oxygen inside his lungs in order to keep a straight expression, because all of a sudden Jungkook places one hand on the chair's backrest, another on the table and leans down so fast his face is found just inches away from Jimin's. He almost gasps, but he knows his self control better, so he quickly finds his composure again. “To the mall.” Jimin's mind suffer an abrupt short circuit, because is Jungkook really planning on doing what I think he's planning to do. “I'm gonna be your cupid.” Oh. Well, he's not, but wait– “What?!” The younger straightens his column with a smile, hands hiding in his pockets. “I'll be your cupid.” He repeats plainly, something hidden in the way his lips curve at just the right angle to form a timid dimple. “Let's find you a date. That's the only way we can know who's right.” Jimin laughs with incredulity. “Would you go that far just to prove a point?!” That's when he sees a chance to tease. And he takes it. “Are you sure you're not just using this as an excuse to take me out?” He gets up, and even though Jungkook is taller, this time, the proximity seems to disconcert the younger. It lasts such a short second, though, just like it did with Jimin. Apparently, they're playing games and well that's Jimin's language. He smirks, and so does Jungkook. “It's not like I have to find an excuse to take you out, is it?” he whispers closer to his face. Jimin is left back shocked at the boldness, since Jungkook pulls away just as fast, switching his tone and consequently the atmosphere. “And of course I'm serious!” he steps backwards at the cashier's direction. “Let's go, it's gonna be new. That's the synonymous of exciting to you, right?” he turns around in order to walk properly and misses Jimin rolling of eyes at him, but Jimin's pretty sure it was purposeful. He rolls his eyes one more time, following the younger nevertheless – and it's not like he doesn’t realize the bothersome tugging at his chest, but he decides to settle on it being simple anticipation. Maybe Jungkook's right and new is really another word for excitement to him. Not that he is letting him know he's right. When Jimin reachs the boy at the front counter, Jungkook's money is already being handed to the lady behind the computer. “Yah!” Jimin reprimands him. “What are you doing, idiot? Told you it's my treat!" “Of course not.” Jungkook looks back at him. “I invited you, so I pay.” Jimin shakes his head, insistent – not like it's useful, since the woman is already giving Jungkook the change and thanking him. But no dongsaeng has ever paid for him – not even Taehyung. It's somewhat intimate, and it unsettles him. “I'm the hyung.” He says. “So?” Jungkook puts the money back on his wallet and then snorts. “Aish, stop being difficult, you're the only person I know who complains for getting free food.” There's a couple of young teenagers already waiting behind them to pay, so Jungkook bows for the lady who attended to him and walks towards the exit. Jimin follows suit, maintaining his lowkey sulking mode. “We're probably proving that theory right by the end of the day and I'm really the unluckiest person in the world today.” Jungkook isn’t sure if's he's more of pouting or talking. Either way, it's adorable. He fights the urge to squish his hyung's cheeks, and decides on bending down instead, putting them on eye level. “Don’t be like that…” he trails, entertained by the way Jimin's eyes widen slightly and his bottom lip is sucked inside his mouth. “You're spending the entire day with me.” He reminds him. When Jimin releases the flesh, it comes back a flushing red. “It's not that bad, right?” Smiling amused, Jungkook does exactly what he did minutes ago, and gives Jimin his back – instead this time, he does catches the elder rolling his eyes. Within the cutest pair of rosy cheeks coming along on the package. Too bad he misses the loving smile sprawling on Jimin's lips when he turns arounds.

#busanboysnet #armiesnet #btsmaknaenet #jikook fic #kookmin fic #jikook #kookmin #bts fic #bts

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discipled1 · 5 years

Text

Encounter

They had no choice. Well, that wasn't true. They could wash their hands of the whole mess, just leave.

"We can't do that and you know it." Jormund said.

The glistening plate mail was meticulously cared for. The symbol of the god of light shone, not only from polish but with an other-worldly sheen. That paladin was grim.

"I don't like it any more than you. I probably like it less. A lot less." He continued.

"How can you, of all people, even consider this? You should want to storm the place and start smiting! " Kairou shouted, exasperated.

"Despite her... condition. It doesn't mean she's evil." Jormund replied, calm but pensive.

"Oh and her criminal organization just sells pastries door to door?" Kairou shot back.

Jormund sighed. "Point taken, let me rephrase. I have no proof she's of the abyss. I smite supernatural threats; worldly evil is not given for me to judge. Though you have little room to talk about such things."

Kairou scowled, "That... it's... she's different!"

She may have sputtered more but she was interrupted by the door opening.

Three more persons entered the room, faces solemn.

"It's a bust." One said, a long sword at his side and armor tinkling like ice as he moved.

"Not even Aren's gilded tongue could buy us purchase." Another said, smirking under a broad brimmed wizard hat.

"You can't reason with moron." Aren said, hanging his feathered cap on the hook as he shut the door. His rapier stayed at his side while is lute was put in a case with care.

"It's not like we have much to bargain with." Brunish, said as he leaned against a wall. His armor didn't make so much sound when he stood still.

"But even such a poor position should have been manageable for the great orator." Taliteann said, her smirk still in place.

"Lay off." Aren said completely serious. Taliteann's smirk disappeared. Their banter was usually playful, but even Aren was in no mood for games.

"So that's it then? The worst path is ahead of us?" Jormund asked.

"Unless your man upstairs has sent any divine inspiration?" Brunish asked.

"Unfortunately, he's trusted my faith on this matter." Jormund said.

"Of course." Brunish said, irritation barely hidden.

"And so we find ourselves with no other recourse." Taliteann said, "Neither the arcane, divine, or cleaver tongue provided us any other way."

"And so five heroes must make a deal with the devil for the good of many." Aren finished.

***

The room was large, well decorated and mostly dark. The carpet was fine, high quality. The tapestries of exquisite detail. Gruesome detail. They showed scenes of demons and other infernal beasts. Some portraits like you would see in a noble's keep, but the subjects hailed from the abyss. Other were battles, these had some mortal subjects, most of them dead and dying at the hands of hellish warriors.

They had walked through a long hall of similar works of "art" and as more hung on the walls of the room the five adventurers had eyes for none of them. They were locked forward.

A tall throne stood on a raised dais, behind it wreathed shadows dancing in the low torch light. Spikes adorned the chair in all but the functional sections. The figure on the throne sat, eyes closed and barely noticeable, their dark skin and dark apparel blending in the low light.

The human servant bowed to the throne before announcing, "These mortals seek an audience with you, oh Great Lady."

The figure on the throne was silent. Then slowly the eyes opened. They were bright yellow and shown in the darkness, almost as if back lit by the fires of the underworld.

"Who?" She said. With the word the torches flared, bathing the room in sudden unfriendly light. All but Jormund flinched.

The added light revealed more. Two armored figures on either side of the throne, invisible until now. They stood silent and still. The visitors hardly noticed them. The figure on the throne, now plainly visible did have dark skin, dark red. She wore black a form fitting type of armor, which looked serviceable but still stylish. It traced her curves perfectly.

She had the form of a beautiful woman in every way. Her shape was attractive, but no one could mistake her for a human. She had two horns which sprouted from her temples, curved out, then back in, narrowing to a straight point directly up. Snaking behind her, lazily draped over one arm of the throne was chevron pointed tail.

"You may announce yourselves." The human servant said, and then promptly walked to stand by the entrance, out of the way.

"We are a humble band of travelers." Aren started. "W--"

"Halt your tongue." The figure on the throne said, her tail flicked in annoyance. Like a cat, if that cat was a hellscape panther, "I know who you are, it is my business to know, and you are no humble travelers. Travel you may but lowly you are not. I will not abide lies silver tongued Aren. In flowerful language you may indulge, but falsities have no benefits of those I entertain."

Silence reigned. Only twice before had the party seen Aren give such pause.

"If you know of us already I shall not misspend your time in introductions oh great Crimson Lady." Aren said.

A... there is no more fitting way to describe it. A devilish grin spread upon the Crimson Lady's face.

"Very good." She purred. Her posture relaxed, but this only caused the five visitors to tense more. She lounged on her throne, her stillness replaced with an idle swing of her tail. In a word, her pose was seductive, she flexed her legs in such a way as to show their form and her head tilted as her eyes glinted, perhaps literally, with mischief.

"We know of each other yes." She said "However we have not had the pleasure of being acquainted. Though what I know of thee is interesting. Or should I say, what I know of thee makes this meeting interesting. Never in my wildest dreams would I think thee to grace my chambers with a visit. Verily, I thought I would have to entice thee here."

"You wear lies like elegant ball gown my Lady." Aren said, "Surely I heard you speak against falsities here."

The grin on the red face deepened into a smirk, "I said no such thing Silver Tongue. I merely informed that lies are of no benefit to my guests. By all means create trouble for yourself with falsities, I shall utilize them most efficiently."

"Double talking snake." Brunish whispered so quietly even Kairou barely caught it.

Taliteann winced.

"You flatter me, stalwart fighter." the Lady said with what looked like a genuine smile. She rose with grace from her throne and looked down straight at the warrior.

His hand went to his sword, only to remember they checked their weapons at the front door. His fist clenched.

The Crimson lady glided down the stairs, or at least appeared to. Her eyes never left the warrior.

"Forgive my c--" Aren started but was silence when the Lady held up a single finger.

She walked across the twenty or so feet that were between the stairs and the group. Her eyes bored into the fighter, her hips rolled from side to side, her eyelids lowered. Her tongue licker her top lip, revealing fangs behind.

The group was frozen, unsure what to do.

The Lady reached Brunish and delicately brushed the armored shoulder. Brunish looked at her eyes without blinking.

"The steadfast warrior of the weak. What is it you seek here?" She asked. Her breath smelled of sulfur.

"This was a mistake." Brunish said, he started to turn towards the door.

A strong grip stopped him. The lady squeezed and the metal of the shoulder pad started to buckle.

"Oh come now, you just arrived. Stay a while yet." The Crimson Lady said.

If Brunish moved, she would break his shoulder, armor or no. The warrior was like a statue.

The crimson lady turned her yellow eyes to Kairou.

"Be a dear and move your hand away from that hidden dagger. My doorman are skilled but I'm sure you slipped at least one passed them Kairou the Thief."

Kairou spread her figures, showing she had nothing in them before moving them back to her sides.

The Lady looked over to Taliteann. "You can let go of that arcane energy you have held there. At this range you can’t be sure your spell wouldn’t hit you ally instead of me Tally."

The wizard was shocked, not so much that the Lady sensed her magic, but that she used her little known nickname.

"We'll stay, for now." Brunish said.

The lady released him and only then did he turn back forward, glancing quickly at the hand shaped dent in the metal.

The Lady laughed. It was a pretty laugh, with school girl enthusiasm, but the rich tones of a great singer.

"Jormund." She said "The Holy. You live your name well. Haven't decided on me yet?"

"It remains to be seen." He said, "But don’t think I take to injuring my companions lightly."

"Of course not. One such as you would not be here to parley if I had proven myself of the darkness. As fun as this has been, we do have business to discuss do we not?"

She looked at Jormund for an answer, he looked at Aren.

"We do." Aren said.

The Crimson Lady looked back at Brunish and with a wink, stroked his cheek, before turning back to her throne.

The warrior yelped in surprise as she smacked his backside with her tail as she turned.

She pranced away towards her throne, slowing down her pace as here tail swished back and forth, playful.

She crossed her arms in front of herself as she stopped before the stairs. She leaned on one leg, the pose almost vulnerable.

"And what business do you wish to discuss?"

Aren paused a moment before answering, "It's a delicate matter. One we do not discuss lightly with our allies, let alone..."

"Demons?" The lady asked, quiet.

Aren gave further pause. Did she--

The Lady spun around, a "gotcha" smile on her face. Aren chided himself for falling for the act. "The devil's in the details my sweet." She said, "It must be serious, especially if you are turning to me for help."

Encounter part 2 "Quite." Aren said, composing himself.

The king is--"

"Dead?" The Lady asked, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

Aren faltered and was frustrated with himself. Silver Tongue was by no means an overstatement. He had and could navigate social situations expertly. Was she just that good or was it the way she looked?

"How can the king be dead when he appears in public so often?" The Lady asked.

Wise to her games now and getting ready to play ball, Aren started, "Because a ne--"

"Necromancy?!" The Lady said, enjoying the fact that she cut him off, but noticed he was ready for it this time. "In this kingdom? Such vile magic hasn't shown its ugly visage in decades."

"We have proof. Undeniable. And a plan to reveal the plot we just need some more boots on the ground and some contacts inside the castle." Aren finished.

"Men I have in spades and always on the lookout for more." She said, turning her gaze back to Brunish and winking. "But would you dare insinuate that I have spies in the court? Surely such a thing would be immoral." She looked at Jormund with a smirk.

Aren drew in a breath, "I would never dishonor your name Lady--"

The Lady clicked her tongue in disapproval.

"I would never doubt your capabilities." Aren amended.

She gave him an approving look.

"Such capabilities I may have. But I have to wonder what I may gain from undoing this so called plot. Surely one such as myself could very will be in league with such a scheme. Don’t deny you've considered it."

Aren was dealt a poor hand, but played it the best he could, "It would not be a large leap in conclusion, but one we've ascertained to be false. You may be on the wrong side of the law but you are loyal to your word and until proven otherwise, you do not fall in line with evil."

The lady smiled, "I like you. You lot. As long as you are agreeable to me I do not wish to stop you. This plot you have uncovered has indeed been a thorn in my side, perhaps I could use some help in removing it."

The group’s tension, finally, lifted somewhat. Perhaps this negotiation may not be a dead end after all.

"However, one never gets into my position by making fair deals." She smiled wickedly.

The group was tense again.

"It is true that these schemers have caused me issue, and should continue to do so more frequently should they take full control of the King's Court. But that is for me to deal with, I have only little vested interest in whether your own plots succeed or fail. Perhaps I could deal with this incursion myself and then I could control the Court."

No one said anything for a moment.

"But alas perhaps such action would be costly and the potential gains only possibilities. If I were to aid another party in eliminating mine enemy, while also gaining a sure benefit. Then perhaps that would be a deal worth considering."

"You have just as much to lose as we do, if not more!" Brunish interjected.

"I have not gained my power by losing little, dear Brunish. I have attained this position by gaining much. I will help you. We will take on our mutual enemy, as friends. But I request one thing."

"What do you request, my good lady." Aren asked.

"One favor."

"Name it!" Brunish said before Aren could speak.

"I shall, in time." She purred, "My help in this matter for your service at another time. After this affair has concluded."

"You'd have us sign a blank check?" Brunish asked.

"In a way. I give you my word, my favor shall not see you break any law, nor harm any innocent. But at this time you shall not know of its details or purpose. Do we have a deal?"

Aren looked back at his companions.

"She won’t have us break any law, or harm any innocent." Kairou said in a whisper.

"You trust the word that she devil?" Brunish whispered back.

The lady smirked as if she heard every word.

"Her word is good." Jormund said, "She will not violate the letter of her deal. I sincerely doubt we will appreciate the outcome of such a favor, however."

"We have little other choice." Taliteann said.

"I still don't like it." Brunish said.

"None of us do." Jormund says, "But I cannot abide a necromancer behind the throne."

"The devil you know..." Taliteann said.

"We don’t know her!" Brunish said, his whisper barely describable as such.

"We know she keeps her deals, and those that don’t keep hers don't stick around long." Aren said, "We have no other option."

He looked around. No one was happy, but no one stopped him. Aren turned to face the Crimson lady.

"We accept your proposal."

Her teeth, fangs included, showed in the widest smile yet.

"Excellent!" She cooed, "My friends, for now I feel I can call you such." Brunish looked disgusted by the term. "Let me assist you in any way I can for we are now allies. We must draw up plans a prepare. I offer to you rooms in my manor here, you shall have all my luxuries at your disposal."

"Oh we couldn't presume!" Aren said as he started to back everyone to the door.

A loud bang signaled the door being shut.

"Oh, I insist." Grinned the Crimson Lady.

#fiction #fantasy #short story

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thenewtdimension · 7 years

Text

It all points to you - pt.1

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader Prompt: Soulmate AU requested by anon. One shot(x) or Chapter (x) pt.1/2 || (next part) Word count: 2.3k Warnings: none Genre: Fluff? Maybe a Tiny Speck of angst? A/N: I’m tremendously sorry for all the tardiness!! University has started so it’s all gotten pretty hectic.. to make it to to you, I’ve decided this is gonna be a two chapter fic! The next chapter will be probably uploaded next week tho, as I have yet to finish it. Also, this isn’t some of my best work.. it really isn’t...so please bear with me. Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors!

The world seemed to work in odd, surprising ways. For every person existed another, tied together by an inconspicuous red string of fate. Those, no one could see, though they had no reason to. On each person's wrist lay imprinted a compass, working restlessly all hour of every day of every year, hoping for the bearers' attention to glance their way just at the right moment, just at the right second the string's ends could intertwine.

At least half of the population was a result of this, of having been aware at the time their half crossed their path. They were, mostly, the married and the bearers of children.

Some say it destiny proven to be true. Yet in the back of most people's minds flashed a thought very possible. That is, while they say that, one way or another, pairs will have more than one chance to meet, there are those who never stop wondering.

The world didn't play on destiny, it played on chance. And being a horrible gambler yourself, you decided to ignore all thoughts of attempting to find the person at the end of your shared string. If you were to meet, so be it. You believed it was better not to force it.

If voiced aloud, some would call you mad - you see, no one wanted to end up alone. No one. So everyone, or almost everyone, tried their very hardest - obsessed, actually, over the burden the compass ensued.

Eventually, you came to hide such a thing. You became negligent to the idea, completely absorbed in your own little world instead. Being a witch left little time for those types of worries to cross your mind, either way.

You had developed a love for Herbology and healing since childhood. After graduating Hogwarts you were thankful to have gotten a permit to open up a small herb shop - while also being able to operate as an emergency healer if needed. As of late, however, you had planned to close the store for the time being and restock on some fresh herbs and fungi.

It was a routine you had created thus far. Each month the shop would be closed for a few days and you'd go around either Britain or a wider range of European land in search for this fungi or that plant.

Dusting your apron, already used to the various shades of green and red and other variety of colors splattered on it, you went to help the last costumer of the day.

"Dearie, you will be back by Monday won't you?" A feeble old lady, Mrs. Hobbs, asked. She was a regular, often coming to you instead of St. Mungo's (something about long procedures and lack of patience) for a checkup and some remedies. She was sweet, and you were grateful for the conformity she brought to your life.

You smiled, "Yes, Mrs. Hobbs. Monday at 8 o'clock, as per usual."

Returning your cheeky expression and holding on to her cane, you escorted her as she made her way out.

"I will see you then, dear. Oh, remember to let your compass breath before something bad happens, understood?"

Midway, her words began fading with distance, but you waved and chuckled before the words sunk in. Right. The compass. She must have noticed you had it concealed.

Closing the door with a click, activating the shudders and putting up both a lock and a protection charm, you took off your apron before giving your second home a last look and apparating in your apartment. You had tuned your actions to 'automatic,' truly lacking a desire to think about such things, about soulmates and the myths around them.

But after being days without seeing it, you couldn't help but take off the think piece of silk that covered it. And you stared. On your wrist it glared, arrow still moving lethargically erratic and without rest. It was always like that. Not just for yourself, but for the people that hadn't found their halves as well.

Sighing, you covered it again.

It wasn't that you were against soulmates or finding 'the other half,' you were just too tired to make it your whole life's purpose or sole ambition. So you hid that 'part of life' away and continued onward. At that age, however, people had begun to ask questions. Why weren't you trying to find that person? You could just ignore it, why hide it? You were constantly told to not mess with destiny and whatever it had in store for you. To not hide it for it was central to one's being. Which is why you understood why Mrs. Hobbs said what she did.

After having it hidden for so long, your nights and dreams had become dreadful and dark in a literal sense. Lately it even seeped into your days, a sense of gray overshadowing the passing hours. You suspected it had to do with lack of interest and chase in the matter, but you hadn't put such theories to the test. Not even at night did the silk band come off.

Of course, you weren't going to put it to the test now, for you didn't want to stare at it. Instead, you went and packed some important instruments in your favorite comfy leather bag.

Then, in a manner of seconds, you were far from home again.

The forests of Scotland were amongst your favorites. The different shades of greens soothed your eyes, the barks offering solace and ground when their branches took you too far, be it by imagination or distance. Even when they got thick and the fog reached your knees, you wanted to explore and often kept going. Every new discovery was appreciated and fawned over, from every new herb found to the creatures that scattered about and sometimes hid from your presence.

You apparated into one of the forest's clearings, and carefully got to work. Your feet swiftly took you towards the well-known trees and bushes, while your eyes scanned around for the fungi spots already imprinted in your memory.

It didn't take long to get to your favorite tree. It stood right before a clearing's pathways and the beauty it displayed could leave anyone breathless. The evergreen leaves and the hanging moss swayed in the wind, while its white flowers peppered the air.

You neared the tree, hoping to take its beauty in for a second longer before leaving to find some aconite. But as you went to pick one of the flowers mid-flight, a strong gust of wind suddenly shook the branches, the moss almost entangling your body as it trembled and shivered.

As another wave of wind hit you, your arms instinctively went to shield your face as you heard the whistling sound pass by and… was that someone… talking?

Intrigued as to who would be so deep inside a place people seldom ventured, you lowered your arms and went in the direction of the sound.

That was, until warm hands cradled your head, your face pressed against some man's chest. He wore a vest, soft and mustard colored, and you thought it a bit odd before realization settled in. And your body quickly began to protest, but pushed with little force because of your evident confusion.

"Excuse me! Who-"

But the man held you tighter, although with hesitation, and brought you through apparation behind your favorite tree. Just a few seconds after, the wind picked up. It still managed to shake you slightly.

"Shhh," he whispered, somehow stupefying you enough to drown out your protests. Then, the sound of nasty snapping - of trunks splitting in half - and branches crunching as if under feet soon erupted all around you.

Once your eyes were unshielded, and the man gently pushed you away, both the breeze and sounds had practically stopped. But before you could try and talk to him and demand answers, he apparated back where he held you before. You moved around the tree, hurriedly following him. How dare he- Who- what?

"Who do you think you are-" you began but quickly stopped. Your eyes had gone from hard to soft after locking with his own and understanding what was happening. Because you see, right behind the man, and a few feet from you, stood a dragon.

It was a Hebridean Black, with sleek black scales glistening in the dying sunlight. The sheer size of it, cramped in a rough patch of forest and broken trees trunk and branches, and its overpowering aura left you breathless. Now you knew where the cacophony of sounds had come from. The dragon has just landed.

Letting out a surprised yelp, your hands quickly covered your mouth, as the dragon's amethyst orbs pierced your own - and so did the stranger's blue-green ones.

"I'm actually - ah…. W-would you mind bowing a little? He was a bit hard to calm down, you see," the man asked, and almost instantly your body did as he asked. Clearly, you did not know proper dragon etiquette. Besides, considering the situation, you were almost sure he was not there to hurt you - you were more like a casualty.

And that voice… the hushed, amused yet respectful tone… the longer you heard it, the melodic it turned, and your cheeks colored beet red. You had never, ever in your life heard such a beautiful voice. Of course you wanted to comply, at least this once. The thought was slightly concerning, and you decided to lock it away for the moment.

"Thank you… Arthur is rather prideful, he is," he said, voice piercing you despite the low tone. As an afterthought, could have sworn you heard a quiet "not dangerous."

You straightened just in time to see him move swiftly, but with grace, towards the creature before them. He raised his hand, and you resisted the urge to yell that it might not be the best idea. Yet without any problems at all, the dragon nuzzled his head under a man's hand.

It was an odd sight. They were said to be aggressive so you never neared them. But there he was, a curled haired man, cuddling a dragon.

Weren't they supposed to be looked after by a Scottish clan?

"Isn't he supposed to be in an open space?"

The man's curls bopped slightly as he nodded, freckled hand caressing the creature before him. It… started to look more like a dog, truly.

"Yes, but Arthur seemed to have escaped," he murmured, appreciating how you didn't run away screaming at him for being a 'lunatic' or other dreadful names, "When I heard, I- I couldn't stop myself from helping. He's not dangerous, you know…" And he wasn't sure why, but he couldn’t help but reveal his actions to you, either. He figured you deserved it, after being intruded on what he figured was a once peaceful walk. Yet you stayed, and you didn't yell… on the contrary, you had turned curious.

"I see…" you began, "Is it… alright? Are - are you alright?"

Blinking at both questions, he looked at you as if you had gone completely mental. A woman. Asking about the well-being of a dragon - on that day and age. Not only that, but asking the strange man with it if he was alright after he had held her without consent, without asking - even if it was for your protection.

A burning sensation gathered at his cheeks, and he wondered why the question tugged at his heart and warmed his chest, "y-yes... We're both fine, miss…?"

"Oh," you jumped a bit, surprised at your own rudeness and ears heating in embarrassment, "I am (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N)."

You had begun to move about, picking up a few mushrooms that the wind managed to get out of your bag. It was a distraction, for you knew your feet would lead you closer to them if they had a will on their own. And oh did they lead you closer.

"I've already met.. Arthur, was it?" you asked, gesturing towards the dragon. The man nodded. "But.. What's yours?"

Now only separated by a few feet, you could see him properly. He was very tall and lanky, and you appreciated how it suited him so. The curls atop his head stuck out in every direction - he must have been hit by the wind earlier as well. And his skin, adorned with freckles and light visible scars, was as captivating as his eyes.

His eyes wondered to the ground as he caught your stare, "I'm Newt Scamander," he said and quickly offered his free hand.

You shook it lightly, frowning at the electric current that passed between the touching skins.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Scamander," you said and he scrunched his nose a little.

"Please, just Newt is fine," he murmured, a smile twitching slightly and a hand going for his pocket watch before pocketing it once more.

"It's time to continue now, Arthur. The Macfustys are waiting," he nudged the creature a little, carefully. The dragon let out a grunt like sound that seemed rather whiny, and the man turned back to you.

"Thank you... For your concern," he smiled "and I am deeply sorry for startling you earlier - couldn't have you knocked off your feet now,"

He took a step closer to the dragon before continuing, "Also, seeing as it'll be windy again.. You might want to apparate a few meters out of this area,"

You nodded before moving back, "Yes… and thank you, for shielding me."

The last thing you saw of him was his ghost of a smile, as both of you apparated before Arthur could take flight again. You had left without some of the ingredients.

Once back at your apartment, you let out a shaky breath. The day had been too weird, and you were too tired to do anything but relax.

You were only halfway through the kitchen, with your tea already being prepared in the air, when you noticed your wrist. Its protective silk was gone. And your compass, which once moved incessantly, stood absolutely still.

#Newt Scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #fantastic beasts and where to find them #newt scamander imagine #fbawtft imagine #fbawtft fic #soulmate au

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ladysqueakinpip · 7 years

Note

All the OC questions with the selkie fam, which includes the 3 bros, Irena, and Anneliese, and also the boys mom if she's developed enough

HECK Y’ALL KNOW HOW TO DELIVER

*these asks are from this post in case anyone wants to either send more or reblog the original

unfortunately i’m going to skip their mom for now just because she’s not developed enough :’c

1. Do any of your OCs have a speech impediment?

elian: nope! but megan suggested he sound congested all the time because of the ridiculous sounds weddell seals make

abbe: none

roland: none

irena: none

anneliese: none

2. Do any of your OCs have a physical disability?

elian: already answered!

abbe: none

roland: none; im suddenly considering giving him bad eyesight though #glasses_roland2017

irena: none

anneliese: none

3. What is your OCs favorite band if they have one? (i’m answering this assuming they have access to the broad variety of music we have)

elian: i feel like he would like the sound of bands like fall out boy, daft punk, imagine dragons etc. but he would like the lyrics of twenty one pilots more because he relates to them the most

abbe: bryan adams?? phil collins?? elton john?? someone like that.

roland: i’m torn because i want roland to be an edgelord but i also want him to be a quiet shy baby so why not both? i think he would like Gorillaz. sometimes laid back and chill and other times a little edgier. also in with the type of kids i feel like he would hang out with.

irena: something a little older from when she was a teenager. probably a female artist. why are gwen stefani or celine dion sticking out to me?

anneliese: SHE’S THE 12 YEAR OLD GIRL WHOS OBSESSED WITH BOYBANDS like one direction and 5 seconds of summer. i feel like she would also love softer female artists like regina spektor

4. Does your OC have anything they take pride in? (like an award or collection?)

elian: *vibrates excitedly* spoilers

abbe: mostly how he’s been given the ability to… move on? his mom is still trapped in their family’s past tragedies and roland and elian are dragged down with that as well, but abbe’s been the one to grow and rebuild the house and get married and now he’s gonna be a dad soon. he’s proud he’s been able to continue the legacy.

roland: he’s really proud of the things relating to his equestrian hobbies. he’s just starting out in the horse-breeding business but he has one or two really nice mares and im sure he has another one he’s training for the royal guard. he’s also the best rider in his family because its like all he does lol.

irena: she was able to get out from under the shadow of her mother. irena and her mom don’t really like each other and her mom was always disappointed that she decided to become a knight instead of trying to climb the social ladder. they kind of stopped talking. ironically enough, irena ended up basically being adopted into a Duke’s family and though it’s super petty and very vengeful i think irena’s also proud of how she became everything her mother wanted in her own way and without her mom’s help. she likes to think of her mom being salty and jealous.

anneliese: her reputation! she had to essentially rebuild it from the ground up after her dad did naughty scandalous things but she’s proven herself to the people who serve her.

5. Does your OC have a favorite film? (answering like they live in modern times)

elian: he likes superhero movies, like the marvel movies. i haven’t actually seen a lot of these so i can’t pick the one that’s his favorite but i have a feeling it’s like captain america or spiderman. he wont stop making jokes about how roland is emo peter parker.

abbe: already answered!

roland: black beauty he strikes me as the type who would like psychological thrillers like the shining or inception. movies that have lots of deep layers and summaries you stay up late reading until you’re too scared to go to bed.

irena: she would like things with very traditional elaborate fight scenes and dynamic relationships and cool props and swords and armor and epic battles so basically she’s a lord of the rings fan.

anneliese: literally the only thing coming to my mind are the twilight movies. the fault in our stars. ya’know stuff like that. i think she would be a big sucker for the princess bride.

6. How tall is your OC?

elian: 5′1″

abbe: 5′7″

roland: 5′6″

irena: 5′2″

anneliese: 5′0″

7. Does your OC have any celebrity crushes? (answering like they live in modern times)

elian: i don’t think he really follows celebrities he cares more about the quality of the movies they make.

abbe: maybe he had one when he was younger but now that he’s married and has a kid on the way he doesn’t have time for these kinds of trivial things he has to focus on the #wife.

roland: the actresses who are a little older but very #classic. julie andrews. judy garland. he might also like modern stars like anne hathaway or emma stone. one of those two.

irena: what if she was a david bowie fan i feel bad not immediately saying her husband dwayne the rock johnson

anneliese: nick jonas. justin timberlake. orlando bloom. every boy from one direction. you get my drift.

8. Do you ship any 2 of your OCs?

elian: ANNELIESE

abbe: his beautiful loving delicate sensitive understanding wife rosalie k thanks bye

roland: his super big crush on lady jeannine harpers kills me everyday

irena: dwayne the rock johnson

anneliese: ELIAN

9. How would you describe your OCs fashion taste?

elian: bold. he likes things that make him feel adventurous like big hats with feathers or sturdy boots. he’s upper class so he’s still gotta look nice but he goes for that “i’m a rich guy who’s never been camping in my life but i went out and bought all this super nice fancy camping gear so people will think i’m professional when i’m not” look.

abbe: very presentable, always On Point™. he’s gotta dress to impress, so all his clothes are neatly pressed and he tries not to wrinkle them up too much or get them dirty. he tends to trade in neutral colors like white and black for things a little brighter to liven up the house a bit. he’s still young. let abbe be Free™.

roland: he’s a big emo hot topic baby and the only thing he’ll wear is black.

irena: sleek shiny new armor that’s hand-crafted with details carved into the breastplate and shoulder pieces. regal deep colors and clean polished boots.

anneliese: PINK. big poofy dresses. less of a focus on patterns and more of a focus on teeny cutesy details.

10. Does your OC have any special talents?

elian: lmao i’ve never talk about this before but i sort of headcanon he’s alright at. fishing. it’s dangerous for him to swim and when his dad was around he was in the same situation. as selkies they still had a strong draw towards the water so instead of fishing as seals they would bond with each other by going to the shore or out on a boat and just have some quiet fishing time. :’) but anyway because of all that elian is much better at using a fishing rod than other selkies are.

abbe: he seems like a really average family-man kinda guy so i want him to have some talent that’s just so obscure and ridiculous and totally unexpected. he can juggle with his knees. he has this 6th sense that tells him when it’s going to rain. i’m confirming all this for canon immediately.

roland: he sort of gives me the “intellectual” kind of vibes in a good way and in a bad way. he was probably very good at school/his studies and for some reason history is really sticking out to me the most! while roland and elian don’t really get along i kinda headcanon roland had to tutor elian a lot when they were working through their school books together.

irena: she can play an instrument, i know that much! i haven’t decided what she plays, but i’m thinking some type of fictional string instrument. she teaches elian how to play some instruments, too, because we all know that poor child is bored out of his mind.

anneliese: she loves the whole wide world and reads a lot as a weird form of escapism? reading is her way of connecting to all the people and all the places in the world and it exercises her imagination. she’s probably a SUPER FAST reader and i bet she has a scary-big vocabulary for a girl as young as herself haha.

11. Is your OC really bad at something?

elian: already answered!

abbe: SELF CARE abbe will work himself to the bone and push down all of his personal feelings and hurt to put his family first. i don’t think he wants to be that way but he was kind of forced into that mindset after he had to immediately step up to his dad’s position and then get married on top of that like he had so many big life-altering changes thrown at him within a years time poor boy didn’t even have time to grieve or adequately manage his emotional state.

roland: being an individual haha. more like being openly opinionated and voicing those opinions. he “aaron burr”s the heck outta life with his “don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for” attitude. he doesn’t want to give anyone a reason to start drama with him.

irena: already answered!

anneliese: already answered!

12. Does your OC have both of their parents?

abbe, roland, and elian lost their dad 3 years before the story starts. for a good time after that their mom was not…. entirely there emotionally either so abbe is basically New Dad™.

irena: yes

anneliese: her dad is… kind of in prison?? so like he’s there but not there ya know. and who knows about her mom i’ll talk about that in the next question. anyway her aunt and uncle took her into the family and are basically her new mom and dad congrats anneliese.

13. Does your OC know their parents?

elian: yes

abbe: yes

roland: yes

irena: yes, but she lost contact with her mother years before the story starts and she’s totally uninterested in rekindling the relationship

anneliese: she knows her dad but i haven’t fully decided who her mother is or what happened to her so for now??? my answer is who knows.

14. Does your OC have any siblings?

abbe, roland and elian are all brothers! they don’t have any other siblings haha.

irena: none

anneliese: none but she did have a cousin! they were really close when they were little, almost like siblings. the cousin was the old heiress to the estate but she got a bad illness or disease or something like people did back in the good ol’ days and died. now anneliese is the heiress.

15. Do any of your OCs have pets?

elian: already answered!

abbe: none

roland: already answered!

irena: she might have a nice riding horse but other than that i doubt she has time for her own pet.

anneliese: i haven’t thought about it but she does seem like an animal kind of girl. if she does i can see her having a super fluffy kitty.

16. Do you have any nonhuman OCs?

17. Do you have any OCs you haven’t posted about?

18. How would you describe your OCs nature in one word?

elian: righteous

abbe: altruistic

roland: distant

irena: meticulous

anneliese: dreamy

19. Who is your youngest OC? (i’m combining this question with the other one and just saying their ages)

elian: 13 yrs

abbe: 21 yrs

roland: 16 yrs

irena: 33 yrs

anneliese: 12 yrs

20. Who is your oldest OC?

21. What race is your OC?

they’re all selkies!

22. Would your OC like you?

elian: he would like some things about me, then find other things completely infuriating.

abbe: he’d probably think i was a little too casual and maybe a bit weird, but he wouldn’t hate me either!

roland: i think we’d be cool.

irena: we could have a couple really nice conversations.

anneliese: she would!

#rosemem #oc stuff #lets T-A-L-K-A-B-O-U-T about ocs #efrens gift #its been like..... 2 weeks and i finally filled this whole thing out #IS ANYONE EVEN ONLINE ANYMORE haha #rip me up!!!

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