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what-the--curtains · 3 years

Text

In A Week

Part 4/4 - This Feeling

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: With the wedding day finally here will your true feeling be revealed or will you leave the way you started? As nothing more than strangers.

Authors Notes: THE FINALE (for now??), this story was so nice to write and all y’all r angels for just reading it let alone liking/sharing it (really i could cry💕🌻💕) so thank you🥺🥺

Song used in Story: This feeling - Alabama Shakes (highly rec u listen!!)

Tw: swearing, drinking, allusions to sex and past toxic relationships.

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Words: 2.0k

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Day 5

A thunk followed by the unmistakable beeping of the snowplows working hard at clearing away the snow from the roads and parking lots wake you. You let out a disappointed sigh when you notice the distinct lack of Frankie beneath you. Almost as if on cue he walks in with a bottle of champagne, orange juice and two glasses.

“Are you ready to get wasted?” he says, as you shift up in bed.

“On one condition.” you offer smacking your lips mouth tasting like morning.

“Which is?” He asks, tilting his head.

“We get fully dressed up for this wedding. I didn't spend hours contemplating outfits to not put one on.” you barter, prepared to fight with him to get what you wanted.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, much to your surprise “that tux was not cheap, and it was supposed to be back two days ago, so not getting that deposit back. Should we call the brides to be before we start drinking?”

“Probably a good call,” After multiple phone calls and various congratulations you found out they were going to be live streaming the ceremony for all the people stranded by the storm. You and Frankie have a lazy morning before it's finally time to get ready, you stand up swaying slightly from the few drinks you'd already downed. Frankie takes the suit into the bathroom giving you the room to change and to do your hair and makeup. You go to pull out your dress and as you do the lingerie you’d packed falls out onto the floor. Your heart drops for a moment before deciding to put it on, not for Jonathan, or even Frankie, but for yourself. You pull on the light pink velvet mini dress you’d settled on, and sling on the black open toe heels. Walking into the kitchen you pour yourself a glass of wine. You hear him clear his throat and you turn around. You're taken aback by how well Frankie cleaned up, no hat, hair styled and a perfectly fitted suit.

When Frankie enters the room, he stops in his tracks, continuing to stare when you turn to face him. If this had been at the wedding, he’s sure he’d have picked you out of the crowd instantly. He’d probably have spent the whole night hoping you'd talk to him only getting upset when you didn't even give him a second glance.

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, breaking the silence first, beyond pleased at how he’d managed to impress you.

“Something like that” you offer, handing him a beer

“Well, we’re in luck because I was specifically told to provide drinking games for the reception, so” he says pulling out some red solo cups and ping pong balls from his bag.

“Who's bad with their hands now” he asks as he sinks another cup, winning 4 consecutive games.

“No fair! You’re cheating.” you say with a humph.

“I'm not, your technique’s just sloppy and lacking strategy” He mocks.

“I have a strategy” You state defensively, mouth open in faux anger.

“Flashing yourself in an attempt to distract me, isn't a strategy” he says licking his lips as his smile turns into a full blown smirk

“Excuse me.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest shifting your stance and arching an eyebrow, challenging him.

“Oh I'm sorry, is that not what you're doing?” he chides, smirk still prominent.

“Well it use to work” you mutter, embarrassed at having been called out

“Ya on idiots who can't control themselves come here, I'll show you to sink it everytime,” you walk over and he positions himself behind you, he's close enough that you can feel his chest heaving slowly behind you.

“Relax your arms” he says, shaking them out for you. “Okay this arm, drop it, keep it relaxed, only use it for balance if needed. This arm..” he says grabbing your wrist “ this is where the action is, alright keep your elbow locked, none of that wobbly shit I saw earlier. It's all about the flick and the follow through, keep it strong.” He watches as you repeat the motions without his hand guiding you and it goes in. You turn around and lift your arms up victoriously, they quickly find their way around Frankies neck and he lifts you up off the ground, faces dangerously close when he puts you back down on the ground.

“We should order a pizza, I think some places are open” you say quickly turning to your phone and ordering something from wherever it was open.

After watching the ceremony, you're sitting on the counter laughing as Frankie proves to you he can in fact eat an entire piece of pizza in three bites.

“Told you” he says

“Well consider me out witted” your phone beeps, you turn it over assuming its Stella or Santi or Gen but it's not. It's John the second you see his name pop up on your phone your stomach drops. Frankie sees the change in your demeanour, everything about you suddenly appearing small. Frankie grabs the phone from your hands “I swore an oath to prevent shitty guys from ruining the party tonight”

“How did you…? Whose orders? Did Santi tell you?”

“Maybe. Holy ….” Frankie says eyes wide when he accidentally sees the message that has been sent to you.

“What?” you ask, afraid at what he’d just seen.

“Nothing!” he lies, shaking his head blinking hard to get the image out of his head.

“Now you have to tell me!” you say hopping off from the counter and making your way towards him. Reaching for the phone which he's holding over his head. Your place you hand on his shoulder trying to balance yourself as you make another grab for it, but you're not even close. You plant a kiss on his cheek causing his arm to drop immediately allowing you to grab the phone.

“Ha!” you say, failing to notice the dejected look on Frankie's face.

You’re walking towards the counter to reply when something comes over you, maybe it was the way Frankie had made you feel these last few days, maybe it was finally coming to your senses, but you turn back to face him. You stare up at Frankie whose eyes are on the ceiling.

“Can you delete him, from all my shit, and block the number” you ask, offering him your phone.

“Really?” Frankie says

“Ya I can't do it but I want it done,” you say, pushing the phone towards him, more vigorously this time.

“Well it'd be my pleasure, guy sounds like a dick,” he says, taking the phone from you and scrolling through wiping away any remnants of the dude.

“Thanks” you say as he hands the phone back to you.

“What did you see in him? Well actually based on the photo he sent maybe I understand,” he murmurs.

“Francisco Morales” you say, mouth agape.

“I'm not the one who sent it!” he says lifting his hands up in defense.

“You wanna dance?’ he asks “I got the playlist from Pope, may as well have some fun, really forget about Jackson.”

“Jo.. you know it doesn't matter and you’re right,” the both of you dance like idiots for a while, twirling around the room in an embarrassingly cliche way that would be better suited to a John Hughes movie than a makeshift wedding reception. As the next song begins, the slow pacing shifts the tone.

I just kept hoping, I just kept hoping

The way would become clear

You stop your dancing, as does Frankie and a dread akin to that of being at your first middle school dance wondering if you'll be asked to dance or not comes over you. You both stare at each other for a second before Frankie offers you his hand, if he was waiting for a moment, this was it.

I spent all this time

Tryna play nice and fight my way here

See, I've been having me a real hard time

But it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

He pulls you into him and you sway in time to the music. One hand on your lower back, the other one holding your hand as you rest your head against his shoulder. His thumb gently rubs over yours. The sensation comforts you causing a wave of relief which causes your eyes to water.

So, I just kept dreaming, yeah, I just kept dreamin'

It wasn't very hard

I spent all this time

Tryna figure out why

Nobody on my side

“You okay?” he asks, hearing you sniffle, you nod looking up at him and he briefly untangles his hand from yours to wipe away the tear that had fallen

“I'm sorry, if I...” he starts softly, thumb tracing gently over your cheekbone.

“No, it's not you, well it is, but it's not bad” you offer, satisfied with the response he takes your hand in his again and continues swaying.

See, I've been having me a real good time

And it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

So please, don't take my feelings

I have found at last

So please, don't take my feelings

I have found at last

Yeah, if I wanted to, I'd be alright

“why'd you decide to delete him” Frankie whispers, barely audible

“Moment of clarity I suppose” you say into his shoulder.

“Which was?” he presses, not looking down to you.

“Just realized how I could have been being treated in a relationship.”

“Should have been being treated,” Frankie corrects.

“I can't believe I let him do that to me for so long, im so stupid” you mutter

“Blames not on you, blames on him for not realizing what he had, seriously if I had you id….” he stops himself not wanting to take advantage of a vulnerable situation.

So I just kept going, I just kept going

And hoping I'm growing near

Well this good and fine, I spent all this time

Tryna find my way here

And I've been having me a real fun time

And it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright

“You’d what” you ask, having mustered up enough courage to finally find out if what you were feeling was reciprocated.

“Id never let you go, at least i'd do everything in my power to make sure you’d want to stay with me”

Please, don't take this feeling

I have found at last

You reach your hands up to his face and pull it down to meet yours, lips colliding for the first time, but the sensation washing over you felt familiar. It felt like you’d finally come home.

Please, don't take my feeling

I have found at last

He slowly moves the two of you back towards the bed never departing from your lips for more than a moment.

“You uh..you sure you want to do this,” he asks, as you run your hands up and down his back.

“Ya, you?” you question looking up at him through your lashes.

“Yes, absolutely.”

If I wanted to, I'd be alright

Yeah, if I wanted to, I'd be alright

The sun from the blinds that had been accidentally left open seeps into the room. The warmth hitting your naked shoulder. You smile when you look down to see Frankies arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Well my long con worked, I finally got the side of the bed I wanted,” you tease.

“Mmm” he says as you shift round to come face to face with him kissing his nose. His eyes flutter awake and he smiles, kissing you on the forehead as you snuggle into his chest for a moment before moving to get ready for the day. His arms tighten around you trapping you against him.

“Frankie, we have to get moving” you giggle.

“Nope, I was serious last night. I'm not planning on letting you go”

“So I’m trapped here forever?” you laugh

“Would that be so bad?” he wonders, and you settle back into him knowing that nothing would be better than spending the rest of your days here with him.

#in a week #part 4 #frankie x y/n #frankie x reader #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish x you #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier fic

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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TLTNL- THE HEARING

Remus had to swallow hard to force himself into getting started. All of them were still wanting to go out and start smothering someone for what they'd tried to do to Harry, but this nasty hearing had been hanging over their head long enough, and Remus wanted an answer done with already, was Harry really going to pay a price for saving someone's life?

Harry was not encouraged when he stepped inside and recognized the exact room he'd once seen people sentenced to Azkaban in.

"That's an encouraging start!" Sirius squeaked while Lily continued shaking her head in disgust of Harry having to do this down there.

Dark stone benches rose high, the room only lit by torches and casting eerie shadows on the rows of occupants.

Lily had her head cocked to the side as her eyes continued narrowing in on this. She couldn't imagine why there would be an audience at a thing like this, but that would still make far more sense than...

The door closed with an ominous bang behind him, as a cold voice announced he was late.

"And who's fault is that?" James huffed.

Harry apologized, saying he hadn't realized the time had been changed, while the same voice responded that was not the Wizengamot's fault.

Lily felt her mouth open with a little pop that went unnoticed as the other boys shifted uncomfortably. They didn't need her to tell them this just couldn't be normal, had Harry stepped into the wrong room?

An owl had been sent to him this morning.

Remus opened his mouth furiously to comment on that, but Lily quickly waved him silent and begged him to just keep going no matter how much she already hated where this was.

Harry dropped his gaze to the chair in the center of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains.

Sirius felt his teeth locking into place already, swearing he'd rip up something if those actually lashed Harry into place.

He sat gingerly on the edge and only felt slightly better they didn't bind him down, so instead he looked up at the watchers all of which were wearing plum coloured robes with a W embroidered on. Most had expressions mirroring Fudges, while others just looked confused.

Harry wished he felt more curious than nauseous like he did now thinking of this place. He'd never liked being watched, now he had a crowds sole attention with the distinct feeling he still wasn't going to walk out of there very happy.

In the middle sat Fudge, on his right a woman Harry didn't know wearing a monocle, and on the left someone sitting so far back the face was in shadows.

James' temper of this not withstanding, he still couldn't just sit there watching Harry sweat so he worked hard to pitch his voice in a silly whisper saying, "dramatic."

It worked for a whole four seconds while Harry grinned at him before turning back, his face somehow even darker upon hearing of this shadowed person.

Fudge testily got started by saying now that the accused was finally present they could begin, looking down the row a bit. An eager yes sir was his answer, and Harry felt a jolt as he recognized Percy Weasley.

"I'm not sure if I'd refer to him as a Weasley much anymore," Sirius grumbled.

Harry looked at Percy, expecting some sign of recognition from him, but none came.

"I think I'd be more offended if he did acknowledge you," Remus snipped, thinking that Percy meeting Harry's eyes and then Harry seeing any sort of smug expression there would only hurt him worse right now.

He instead was looking only at his notes, quill poised.

Fudge began by stating the time and date, Percy's quill at once moving along at high speed to keep up.

'He really has to write all that down?' the thought wildly flickered through Harry's mind as he found himself grasping such odd details, but still deciding he found this slightly more comforting than if he'd seen another Quick-Quotes Quill there.

Fudge was speaking of the reason they were all here, to discuss the break in the Decree, then Harry and his place of residence. Interrogators were himself, Amelia Susan Bones, and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister,

'Well she got a promotion,' Lily randomly noted, only knowing her now as a woman who'd just been promoted into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She hadn't heard a lot of good things from the work she'd been trying to pass along so far, and now finding she'd been stepped to an even higher position was not at all encouraging for how this was going.

as well as Court Scribe Percy Ignatius Weasley-

as well as witness for the Defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the man himself cut in.

"Oh thank Merlin," Remus actually sat back in relief.

"I was starting to think you were going to have to handle the lot of them by yourself," James agreed.

Lily honestly did feel just as relieved as them, she couldn't have asked for a better defense than Dumbledore showing up and reminding them they couldn't be the ones to get Harry kicked out of school for the mess he was in, but that still didn't cover the pure outrage still simmering in her that her son was having to sit through a full blown trial for one act of underage magic! Just what had happened to her society!

Harry turned so fast he put a crick in his neck as his headmaster came sweeping into the room. The members of the Wizengamot were not as pleased, most looking annoyed, some even frightened, though a few in the back row waved.

"Brave of them, considering I half expect Fudge to turn and fire them on the spot after all I've heard," James huffed.

A powerful emotion had risen in Harry's chest at the sight of Dumbledore, a fortified, hopeful feeling rather like that which phoenix song gave him.

The four of them could remember this feeling all to well, it's how they used to feel in the middle of this war whenever they were at meetings and things were starting to look bleak. One glance at their leader though and somehow they felt just that little more assured of their task at hand. Even now, in the face of what all they feared and thought he'd done to their life in this future, that feeling still didn't leave them now as he came swooping in to Harry's rescue.

Harry tried to catch Dumbledore's eye, but he only held Fudge's attention as the man blustered that the Headmaster had gotten their message of the time and place changing then.

Lily now had the nasty suspicion that this whole thing may well have been done to in fact make it so Dumbledore wouldn't be in attendance any more than Harry. It did make his arrival all the more satisfactory at least.

Dumbledore corrected he had not received any such message, but as he'd happened to be here hours early, it was a lucky happenstance.

Still shuffling his papers in annoyance, Fudge barked at Weasley to go fetch the man a chair then, but before he could move Dumbledore drew one himself that fell beside Harry and sat himself down.

Fudge, clearly derailed, had to think a moment before going on track with the charges.

Sirius chuckled meanly to himself that the mere presence of Dumbledore had completely diminished Fudge into a dithering idiot again.

It took him a moment to go back and read out the full charges against Harry James Potter in breaking the Statue of Secrecy in the presence of a Muggle, reading out the whole section of where that could be located, before confirming Harry was this same person.

James had an odd look on his face, longing to mock the logic of this question being asked after the charges and not while the people's names had been read out, but still angry enough at this situation he didn't really want to be laughing at much of anything.

Harry agreed at once, and was reminded he had also received warnings against doing this same thing three years ago.

Harry agreed yes, but-

Lily caught his eye worriedly, wishing she were there to warn him that he would get his time to explain himself, and for now it would have just been best to answer simply and possibly more politely. Yet Harry was also being tried by the whole Wizengamot for this, so clearly societal rules had been torn to shreds for this meeting!

The back and forth continued with Fudge pressing in on all of his wrong doings, all while Harry agreed it was true, but-

When it got to the part of his full Patronus having been produced, he was this time cut off by the witch with the monocle booming it was fully-fledged?

"That's what she caught on!" Harry finally burst out angrily in here. "Not why I'd done the spell!"

"Well to be fair, that really is a feat of magic you seem to underplay a lot," Remus said conversationally enough while Harry rolled his eyes for Remus actually agreeing with this woman.

A corporeal Patronus?

Harry opened his mouth to ask about that now, but Remus shook his head slightly to show he'd be asking at that time.

Harry was distracted by asking what that even meant, and she elaborated that was the name for the animal your Patronus would produce. Harry impatiently agreed it had been a stag, it always was, and she cut off again to ask how many times he'd done this. Harry began that Professor Lupin had taught him back in third year- and was again cut off by her saying he'd been doing this since he was thirteen? That was impressive.

James honestly would have laughed at this under any other circumstances, but Harry continually being cut off from saying that very important reason just wasn't any kind of funny.

Some of the wizards and witches around her were muttering again; a few nodded, but others were frowning and shaking their heads.

"Well I'm so sorry it couldn't impress the crowd," Sirius sneered.

Fudge snapped back the more impressive the magic all the worse in front of that Muggle!

"A muggle who knows full well about magic with me living with him, doesn't that give me any leeway?" Harry demanded.

"Not really, no," Lily wished she could think of more to comfort him with, but so far this whole entire thing had only cemented their fears of Harry being railroaded in this place.

Those who had been frowning now murmured in agreement, but it was the sight of Percy's sanctimonious little nod that goaded Harry into speech.

"I'd like to do more than talk with him around," Sirius got out through gritted teeth.

He shouted for all to hear he'd done it because of the Dementors!

That brought a heavy silence down on them all as Madam Bones prompted what he meant by that?

"Do they really not know when they're around!" Harry burst out in exasperation.

"Sadly not," Lily shook her head. "The Ministry likes to pretend they've got tabs on the species, but in reality there are more than just at Azkaban and they go rogue running into Muggle neighborhoods from time to time. It doesn't excuse the absolute odds of them running into you," she finished with an eye roll.

Harry really wished he could get more clarification on what magic could and couldn't do, as apparently you could track when a specific spell was being used but not a specific creature?

He finally explained there had been two that night after him and his cousin.

Fudge gained an odd smile as he began looking around for someone to join in his joke and saying how he'd thought it would be something like this.

"If you actually thought Dementors were involved, things never would have gotten this far," Remus said, clearly joining in the laugh with his mocking tone.

Madam Bones began to say she did not understand, so Fudge explained for her how nice a story Dementors made as Muggles couldn't see them.

"I didn't know that at that time," Harry muttered, real fear starting to creep up in him. If they thought he was lying, than this premonition could be all too real, and he wasn't going back to school...

Which was entirely convenient. Harry burst back that there had been two of them, coming from opposite ends of the alley way when his cousin took off-

but was cut off by Fudge saying he was not going to listen to this rehearsed story.

"He still gets to tell his side of the story whether you believe it or not," Lily had to force everything in her not to shout that. "The rest of the Wizengamot get to decide if he's telling the truth!" She wasn't succeeding very well by the end.

Dumbledore cleared his throat causing the man to fall silent as Dumbledore pointed out there had in fact been a witness to this other than Dudley Dursley.

Harry scratched his mind in confusion on who this could be, and realized the only other possibility was Figg. Could Squibs see dementors? He supposed he was about to find out, and didn't bother asking as no one seemed remotely confused on this.

Fudges plump face seemed to slacken, as though somebody had let air out of it.

"I'd like to deflate several things on him," Sirius quipped.

He stared hard at Dumbledore before insisting no one had time to listen to dribbles from any old person, he wanted this dealt with quickly!

"Well it's not for him to decide how quickly something gets brushed to the side, thank Merlin," James said in clipped tones.

Dumbledore cut in that by their own laws, the defense could call for a witness, which Madam Bones agreed was true.

"She couldn't have said that before Dumbledore had to interrupt?" Lily seethed, finding Arthur's advice before about how fair this Bones woman was didn't seem to accurate if she was willing to let Fudge pummel her son until Dumbledore stepped in to say otherwise. James still had his arm tight around her waist and gave her a comforting squeeze, knowing her harsh words shouldn't really be taken full force now as she just wanted to be the one to protect Harry at this trial she should have had a hand in.

Fudge gave in and sent Weasley to go let whoever this person was in, and Mrs. Figg came shuffling inside looking more batty and scared than ever. Harry wished she'd at least changed out of her slippers.

"I suppose Dumbledore told her to come comfortably," Sirius amazingly had a twitching smile trying to creep up on him in the face of all this, but he couldn't seem to stay that mad with her back. He was to busy picturing her calling Fudge much worse than a useless lump.

Dumbledore offered her his chair and duplicated another for himself while Fudge barked at her for her full name.

"Least she didn't have to sit on the chained one," Harry huffed, half wishing he'd thought to ask Dumbledore for one of those as well, as the menacing clinking noise hadn't really stopped behind him this whole time.

She proclaimed herself as Arabella Doreen Figg of Little Whinging.

Madam Bones corrected that no wizard lived in the area, that had always been a closely monitored situation.

"That, is a really terrible oversight," Lily suddenly blinked as she realized this for the first time. "Is she living there now? I have no idea honestly, but the fact that we don't keep a record of where Squibs are living- I mean even if they aren't a magical threat I don't see why we wouldn't as they could be in just as much, honestly more danger from-" James cut her off with another squeeze, while she continued shaking her head for this glaring problem no one had ever seemed to realize, or care about.

Mrs. Figg said back she was a Squib, so she wouldn't be on any of those lists.

Fudge watched her curiously for a moment before turning and asking those around him if Squibs could even see Dementors?

"Why would he look at them, when she'd be the one to answer?" Harry demanded. Even not having a particular like for Mrs. Figg, he still found that beyond rude, quite a feat considering everything else the Minister had done of late.

"Confirming from a source he doesn't believe is a liar," Remus sighed after he guessed that.

She said back quite indignantly that yes she could.

Fudge gave in and told her to begin her story, and she prattled off as if from memorization the date and time of when this took place.

Lily winced for that, fearing Fudge could still throw this testimony out if he did claim this was rehearsed and given to her by Dumbledore.

She'd spotted the Dementors running- but was cut off by Bones pointing out no Dementor could run, they glided.

She quickly corrected herself that's what she meant,

"She's allowed to be a bit confused," James said sympathetically. "She did see Dudley running, and she's about to account for two things going on at once."

and then Bones cut in again to asked what they looked like?

She began that one was very large and the other rather skinny-

Remus had to fight hard not to release a snort of mirth, but failed and began giggling anyways along with both his friends to his rising pleasure. It was the first time he'd seen Sirius actually crack a smile while the mention of dementors had been brought up in here, so he knew he'd give Figg a thanks just for that.

No, no, Bones corrected, not the boys, the Dementors, she wanted them described.

Mrs. Figg began unsteadily that they were big and wearing cloaks.

"Well she's not wrong," Sirius said fairly even if he could feel that nasty twitching just below the surface of his panic again at the thought of feeling around those things for the next twelve years loomed over him again.

Harry could feel himself begin panicking at this, as she was doing a terrible job of putting into words that hopeless feeling that engulfed the very air around Dementors.

Sirius gave Harry a mock pat on the head, ignoring the fact his hand was shaking to hard for the gesture to come through right.

The audience wasn't any more convinced as Harry spotted two smirking and rolling their eyes.

"Well I'm so glad at least someone's enjoying the show," Lily said icily, wishing for more descriptions so she'd know who next to curse at work.

She continued on, adopting the proper shaky manner when speaking of those things and how they'd made her feel and remembered the most dreadful things, then her voice did shake and die.

"At least she got that part right," Remus said in relief as he tried to keep going with more confidence now the woman had established some credibility in this.

Bones' expression was unreadable as she asked what happened next, and she began to say the Dementors had gone for the boys. One of them had fallen to the ground while the other was trying to repel one with only smoke so far, that was Harry.

Lily pinched James to stop him making some dumb comment about how she could have gotten the boys swapped.

He tried twice more, and finally on the third time his stag came to his defense and chased them off, and that was what happened she finished a bit lamely.

Sirius was thankful he didn't have anyone in his immediate vicinity to stop him giving a polite little clap for that thrilling tale, so Lily compensated by chucking a pillow at him, not even trying to deny that she always did feel slightly better watching these two idiots make light of this as clearly it was giving Harry a distraction and he didn't look quite so pale while watching them.

Fudge began aggressively that's what she'd seen?

Mrs. Figg repeated in earnest that was what happened.

"Really do just love her for this," Remus agreed.

Fudge dismissed her then and she only left after a quick look at Dumbledore. Once she was gone Fudge began how unconvincing that was, while Bones corrected she'd gotten the properties of a Dementor down well enough and the woman had no reason to make anything up.

Fudge snorted it meant nothing as the odds of this happening to a wizard were astronomical.

"No one was trying to deny the possibilities," Lily agreed grimly.

Dumbledore lightly reminded no one found it a coincidence.

The two who'd been smirking before now stopped doing any such thing, and the person in the shadows gave an uneasy twitch as all attention was back on Dumbledore.

"What was that?" Harry asked sharply, not exactly wanting to turn his full attention back to Fudge doing this to him, but that had done it.

"Someone twitched," Sirius tried to pacify Harry's sudden intensity by giving a very obvious leg spasm that 'accidentally' hit Remus, and Harry lost track of his thread as Remus gave him an absent nudge back while still going.

Fudge barked what Dumbledore could mean, while he reminded that someone must have sent those Dementors there.

The Minister snapped back there was no record of any such thing happening!

While Dumbledore agreed, that meant that all Dementors were not under Ministry control as he'd always claimed.

Fudge gave a nasty retaliation that Dumbledore had made his views of that quite plain, but the Azkaban guards had still been doing their job!

"Including everything you don't ask them to," James said stiffly, he still hadn't forgotten the ones that had nearly gone after Harry, and to a lesser but more effective degree had done to Barty Crouch Jr., and no consequences had ever seemed to come from that.

Dumbledore went on more quietly but still calmly that everyone must ask themselves then what those Dementors had been doing there if not on Ministry orders.

Harry could feel himself starting to shake slightly, the now familiar pain of a memory ready to pounce leaving him sure this was no fallback excuse. Dumbledore had been wrong before, but was right now, but who on earth-

He was distracted by the flash of red hair from his mother shaking her head in disbelief, along with the boys rolling their eyes at Dumbledore's time for a joke. Clearly they at least had faith the Ministry would never fall that far, so he was probably misinterpreting something in him.

Only silence followed this for a beat before the person in shadows finally sat forward, and Harry got a look at her appearance for the first time. A wide, flabby, pale face that had bulging features along the eyes and mouth leaving the impression of a toad. Even the little black bow she wore on her head impressed a fly about to be snapped up by a sticky tongue.

"You truly have the loveliest descriptions of people," Lily rolled her eyes, wanting to scold him absolutely none of that had been polite, but as it was his private thoughts she resisted since she knew her son had better manners than saying that to a woman's face.

Fudge recognized her position to speak as that of before as Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. When she did begin, her voice came out in a girlish high-pitched way, causing Harry some surprise as he'd been expecting a croak.

Sirius couldn't resist anymore and snorted with laughter, all of the boys giggling childishly at Harry's thoughts now.

She began politely to inform Professor Dumbledore that she was being silly as it sounded like he was implying the Ministry of Magic had set an order to attack this boy.

Harry was swaying just slightly as memory of this woman tried to crowd him in on all sides at once. Her appearance, her words, her very attitude screaming at him right now to get a spit ready to roast her alive, but a hard shake from his head managed to clear the worst of it while Sirius gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, all of them worried Harry was fixing to pass out from stress for this still hanging over his head.

"This woman isn't leaving a very good first impression," James felt some of his amusement at Harry's description of her dying as clearly his son was getting a bad vibe from this woman, and that automatically put her in his bad books. The last person who had received that kind of intense look had been Marge.

Dumbledore explained their own logic, that if the Ministry had control of all Dementors, and the Dementors were there, then someone had to have done something for this chain of events to occur, otherwise there really were Dementors-

Fudge's face was turning burning red as he shouted back there were no Dementors outside Ministry cotrol!

"He is literally contradicting himself," Remus sighed as he never thought he'd meet someone so stupid to not take even the smallest out Dumbledore was trying to offer. He was going small, trying to give the man just a pinch of room in saying there could have been just a few rogues, but no, the man couldn't do anything that wasn't idiotic it seemed.

Dumbledore acknowledged this with a bow of his head before pointing out that this matter would then be looked into.

Fudge snapped back that was no longer Dumbledore's decision for the Ministry to be looking into anything!

"I feel like at some point it should be," Sirius snarled, as Dumbledore being Minister would solve at least a few problems at this point, Sirius' status included.

Dumbledore agreed mildly, and then pointed out his confidence that this matter would then be investigated.

Fudge said back none of this was relevant to the current charges! They were not here to discuss Dementors that were more than likely a figment of that boy's imagination, but his offence against the Decree!

Dumbledore said simply the matters were one in the same as Clause Seven clearly stated magic could be used in the presence of Muggles to save lives which was the exact occurrence-

but Fudge cut off to say they were all well familiar with Clause Seven!

"Clearly not, as the existence of this trial proves you need a look back!" Lily hissed.

Dumbledore pointed out that so long as that was true, this matter was settled as all agreed Dementors fell under this law.

Fudge still tried to say he didn't even think this had happened, and Dumbledore said to call the witness back then, she'd be more than happy to repeat herself.

Fudge was blustering now in frustration as he shouted he didn't have time for that, he wanted this over with!

"No one gives a damn about what you want!" Sirius barked.

"He's not even being subtle about showing how badly he created this just to do the worst he can to Harry," Remus agreed viciously.

Dumbledore's response was to point out the time shouldn't matter if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice.

Sirius let a bark of laughter escape him, and to his absolute pleasure saw the others get a bleak smile as well for Dumbledore's choice of words whether intentionally or not.

Fudge roared at the top of his lungs serious miscarriage his hat!

"I don't think I can have a miscarriage of anything," Sirius said as he glanced down in confusion at his stomach.

"You just ruined whatever amount of funny that once was Padfoot," Remus told him conversationally without looking up.

Had anyone been keeping track of the amount of stories this boy cooked up!

Sirius couldn't resist and began ticking on his fingers, "Dobby, then Marge, now this. Not counting what Arthur did while there, that's actually only three. I know of at least one Muggle-born who got at least as many," he finished with fluttering eyes at Lily who only grinned indulgently in response as she didn't bother to deny it.

Harry was still intrigued enough to hear about this, far more than his life in his opinion, but Remus was still to invested in finding out if Dumbledore could really win this thing as it was looking like he was doing and so didn't give Lily the chance to say anything, for now.

That Hover Charm three years ago had just been the start-

but Harry cut in to say it had been a house-elf who'd done that.

Fudge gaped at Harry before shouting that was his point! A house-elf in a Muggle house he says!

"It's not my fault these things happen to me!" Harry threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Apparently you're going to be hard pressed to get others to believe that," James sighed with true pity. In all honesty, if he hadn't sat here and heard the accounts himself, he'd think Harry was pulling his leg with some of these stories.

Dumbledore calmly said that the house-elf in question was employed at Hogwarts and could be here in this second to give his own evidence for that night.

Fudge had to stutter for a moment before saying he didn't have time to listen to a house-elf!

"He keeps going on about how he's too busy to be dealing with this," Lily sneered. "I can't wait for someone to point out how he created this problem by setting up this whole courtroom to be there for this, wasting everyone's time!"

He'd blown up his aunt for crying out loud!

"You do have to love the irony of it all though." Sirius sighed. "He overlooked that instance, and now he's trying to get Harry expelled for something of honestly lesser reason."

Harry gave a bleak, obligatory laugh no one felt.

Dumbledore reminded no one had pressed charges then as all had agreed at the time even the best wizards could lose their temper and emotions.

Fudge completely ignored this and tried to go on into what he got up to in school-

"Which in no regards is held in the Ministry's decision," Lily cut in with blistering tones, making Remus shrink back into his seat slightly and her anger wasn't even directed at him. He'd never had a problem chatting with Lily about politics, but he was starting to be very afraid for this book if it kept pushing her buttons on this topic.

Dumbledore sternly reminded now that the Ministry had no say over Harry's behaviour inside school.

Fudge gave a mean little laugh as he asked Dumbledore if he really thought so?

Harry felt a nasty tingling at the base of his spine at that.

Dumbledore kept his cool tone that Fudge had been given his evidence that nothing had happened on that night that did not fall perfectly legally under their own laws.

"I really think at some point the politeness is just another level of smugness," James shook his head.

"Least Dumbledore did what he did no matter what attitude he used," Lily sighed.

Fudge said savagely that laws could be changed!

Dumbledore gave this a slight head incline as well of acknowledgement before pointing out that for now they were what they were, such as those being used to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a single matter of underage magic.

Lily made an agitated noise that still managed to sound triumphant, finally someone other than her had said it.

He concluded that no laws had been broken, therefore no punishment should be placed, and it was not this court's decision to decide on every bit of magic Harry ever performed.

"Oh please stop giving him ideas," Harry muttered.

This specific offense had been presented and defended, now all that was left was a verdict.

Harry felt a thrill of fear as he realized Dumbledore was telling them to get a move on with a decision, when he'd hardly had a chance to say anything. This was too fast!

"I disagree," Remus frowned, "this is honestly a good thing him being quick about this. Let Fudge keep going much longer and he'll start trying to bring up things you don't have anything to do with but he'll still try to blame you for."

Harry gave an uneasy nod as he tried to believe Remus was right and it was high time he got his answer for this no matter how much he felt like vomiting in the meantime.

Harry tried to look at Dumbledore with a million questions, but again Dumbledore seemed oblivious to Harry's attempt to catch his eye.

They all got a little frown on their face for that. Was Dumbledore really so busy watching Fudge he couldn't spare a moment to glance at the boy he was defending?

He instead looked to his feet, his heart pounding away. He'd expected this to last longer, but in his opinion he hadn't made a very good impression so far.

"You really couldn't have even if you came in wearing a Support Fudge badge," Sirius sighed.

He hadn't said very much.

"True Dumbledore and Figg got your side out for you, but that's probably a good thing," James said fairly. "It's been made obvious nothing you say will get through to them, at least Dumbledore still holds some weight with his reputation you just don't have son."

Harry wasn't entirely sure he agreed, but as he'd always preferred action rather than letting others do this sort of thing for him, he doubted he'd ever fully agree.

He ought to have explained more fully, how both he and Dudley had nearly been kissed . . .

They all flinched as hard as Sirius at remembering that nearly happening to their Harry, again!

He fought with himself to add this on, but every time he got close he could feel the fear cutting off his words and instead kept a firm eye on the pattern of his laces,

"I found that a good idea when faced with McGonagall," Remus winced, "I imagine this is significantly worse."

until Bones declared the question all in favor of clearing all charges?

Harry's head snapped up just in time to do a quick count, of more than half!

Finally they all felt a breath of relief pass through them again. This had been dragged on far to long, they couldn't believe this had been a real threat on Harry and he'd barely escaped by the skin of his teeth!

Bones asked the opposite question of conviction, and while Fudge, and a dozen others voted so, including the smirking pair of before,

"I need names," Sirius said flatly, and Harry now had the absolute certainty Sirius was not joking, and was almost thankful he couldn't be of help with that.

it was not enough, and Fudge had no choice but to declare Potter was cleared of all charges.

Dumbledore stood abruptly, vanished the two chairs he'd created, and said how excellent this was while bidding them all good day. He then swept out of the dungeon without a backward glance.

"Hey!" They all yelped in protest.

"What's Dumbledore playing at?" Sirius demanded as he snatched the book from Remus.

"I know this wasn't a time to be sitting around congratulating each other," Lily agreed, "but would it really kill the man to at least escort Harry outside and say, anything!"

Harry sunk back into his seat heavily, his temporary moment of thrill and excitement he was free to go back to school at once dimmed by what he considered a very bad omen for the rest of this to come.

#Harry Potter #HP #reading the books #fanfiction #Ootp #Marauders #Jilly #James Potter #Lily Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #The Life that Never Lived

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kbmercer · 3 years

Text

Ch.1, Part 3: Encounter

My Heroic Pokemon Squad (A Pokemon/My Hero Academia Crossover)

Summary:

After receiving an emergency call to assist in sedating the legendary pokémon of time and space, Top Ranger (Y/n) (L/n) gets caught in the crossfire of their rampage. Sent barreling into a world unknown, (L/n) must now navigate her new surroundings and somehow find a way home. Yet, the aftermath of a momentary rift between dimensions carries drastic repercussions, especially considering that pokémon had never existed in this place to begin with. Not only that, but it seems humanity here have powers of their own, not unlike that of the creatures she has grown to love.

The students of UA had a big day ahead of them. They’ve worked with the support class for the past week to modify and solidify their hero costumes in anticipation for the Provisional Hero License Exam. They’ve had a long day and have since returned to their dorms for the night, moving to either take a rest or stay up just a little longer for casual conversation in the communal lounge area. The girls of 1-A were doing the latter; the chatter among them being about the progress of their special techniques, the time they had left until the big day, and any other facet of interest in between. The conversation had gotten out of hand pretty quickly with Uraraka floating in the lounge out of embarrassment from the allegation of having a crush. The perpetrator, Mina Ashido was being reprimanded for prying by Asui and Yaoyorozu. The ridley hero did not let up.

“I wanna hear more!! Over-bearing or not, I can make even the most unrelated stories relate to love! But…on a more related note about love, have you seen that super cute picture of those quirked creatures snuggling together??? They were totally in love!”

Leave it to Mina to know about the most recent things and talk about the most recent stuff. It was no denying that the news of animals having quirks held most of the peoples’ interest lately, but the pink girl was obsessed. She scrolls through her phone and shows her classmates the picture of two spiked rodent-like creatures. One was bigger than the other with its fur being a deep shade of purple while the one by its side was a periwinkle blue. They were snuggled close underneath the brush of an unspecified forest enjoying each other’s company.

“Aww. They look so cute together.” Hagakure pitched in, taking the initiative to bring Uraraka back down to earth. When the brunette was returned to solid ground, she rejoins the conversation catching a glimpse of the photo releasing a small coo of her own before Mina turns the screen. She starts scrolling through socials to see if there are any more photos and soon comes across an underwater photo depicting pink heart-shaped fish swimming together. She squeals.

“They’re underwater too!?” She was basically vibrating in place at this point. The girls invade space, gathering together to get a closer look and the newly searched photo. Wow, 365,000+ likes in less than 2 hours?

“They are pretty cute, kero.” Asui adds.

“I did a little bit of research on my own…” Yaoyorozu starts. “There seems to be equally as intimidating ones too. Like the one I saw that looked like a flying scorpion…”

“Or that one I saw from Russia that looks like the abominable snowman…” Uraraka chips in.

“Oooohhh. Or like this one!” Mina had entered a live stream which was currently underway. The location being filmed was a city, the bright lights of the streets was blurred by heavy rain. The cacophony of noise made by the crowd that surrounded the person filming also had their phones out trying to capture what was happening. The sound of an indistinguishable roar resonated through the area and boomed from the speakers as the peppy girl turned up the volume. Gushes of wind could be heard through the recording as if the currents were being moved by the wings of a flying bird. Though, the girls watching in anticipation doubted that any of what is transpiring was being caused by any sort of bird. The same roar booms through the speakers again and the crowds noise somehow grows louder. A silhouette of white is seen through the rain and the camera zooms in on the giant creature looming overhead. It was in full view now: a creature that looked to be three times bigger than the average human with a body of white and blue. The deep-sea colored spines that protrude from their back moved to favor the storm around them while its appendaged wings flapped at a steady, almost menacingly pace.

“WWWOOOOAAAHHHH,” the girls’ reaction to what they witnessed was on par with the crowd in the livestream, Yaoyorozu and Uraraka’s voices showing conveying more concern for the people filming. It when more of their classmate had entered the lounge room to see what all the fuss was about.

“Will you shut the hell up?! Some of us are trying to sleep!!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” (Y/n) roars. The ranger was watching one of many news broadcasts from a tablet she was given. The voice of the on-scene commentator was drowned out by the worry the girl had for anyone in the vicinity. They lay witness to Lugia—a pokémon of legend—causing havoc in the middle of Musutafu. The pokémon looked confused, as if were searching for something or someone but their concern disappears when their attention is redirected.

Oh no.

The pro-heroes had made it on site. Through the lens of the professional camera, (Y/n) could identify Midnight, who had since made a wardrobe change, alongside three others that she had previously heard about…Kamui Woods, Gang Orca, and Eraserhead. If their names were anything to go by, it was easy to guess who everyone was. The man with a tight suit decorated in wooden armor is Kamui Woods; the whale man is Gang Orca; and Eraserhead is the plain-looking dude that looks very tired (of this shit). The four shared a brief moment of formality before engaging Lugia.

(Y/n) continued to watch and quickly noticed that the team of heroes wasn’t trying to defeat it. Rather, they were attempting to restrain it. A good move in prospect, but a difficult one in execution. The storm that continued to surge around Lugia would only make the tactic harder to accomplish.

Three out of the four had methods of holding the legendary creature down. Kamui Woods’ ability involved his limbs stretching and growing like a tree as he latched onto Lugia by its left wing. Eraserhead used the sturdy scarf he had as a tether on the right wing. Equipped with a whip, Midnight snaps the weapon forward to wrap around the pokémon’s left foot. Gang Orca uses his abundant force to assist in further bringing it down from the sky. Yet, their success in bringing Lugia down to earth didn’t take into account how they were going to keep it there. In a moment’s notice, Lugia had used its own power to break free from the heroes’ bind. As it rears back to let out another roar, (Y/n)’s breath gets caught in her throat.

It was as if everything was in slow motion. Lugia lifts itself into the air once more as its wings began to flap harder. It locks onto those who dared to ground it and the direction of the storm begins to change. The watered air current draws itself upon the white beast and concentrates to a finite amount. Finally, they bring their large wings forward to break the concentrated ball of pressurized air. In an instant, everything an everyone is blown back, the heroes taking the blunt of Lugia’s Aeroblast.

The news correspondent and camera man of whom were a great distance from the engagement were not safe either. The impact had recoil and knocked the crew off their feet. The camera lost focus and lay on the asphalt. Groans of pain could be heard in the background.

(Y/n) had seen enough. She clutched her duffel and sprinted out the doors of the police department. The call from the receptionist was lost on her as she hurriedly shuffled through her belongings to clasp three pokéballs. She taps the button on one and tosses it into the air. A bird of dark plumage is released. A ‘caw’ is let out in response to his summoning by the ranger as red eyes stare into (e/c) eyes.

“Alright, Honchkrow. We have a Lugia to take on…”

#crossover #fanfiction #pokemon #my hero academia #shonen #nintendo

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imhereforbvcky · 5 years

Text

Vivid - Part 2

Masterlist - Series Masterpage

Summary: Have you ever met someone who completely embodies a color? Not an aura, not synesthesia. Just… They walk into the room and when you spot them, you think to yourself, “Wow. That is a walking hurricane.” When Clint Barton serendipitously meets a free-spirited stranger, he sees red. Chapter: Clint never expected to see you again, but today he does. Can he convince you to see him again? Maybe on purpose next time?

Warnings: Sailor Mee and the curse of the lip, back at it again. (Swearing. There’s plenty of swearing.)

Word Count: 2503

A/N: Oooh boy. I’m on the fence about this one. I like parts of it, but I’m always leery about including side relationships and fleeting characters. In this case, I think it gives character insight? So I kept it? Again, fair warning, this “you” is practically an OFC.

The next time Clint saw you was as unexpected as the first.

He hated these events. Everyone did. Of course he knew it was important, a good cause, part of his responsibilities, and on, and on, and on. Having a few Avengers listed on the invitation always brought bigger donations. Clint knew this. But it was still a headache and he wasn’t great at pretending.

He’d shaken a few hands, smiled, simpered, and promptly grew bored. By the time Natasha found him observing from the corner, the speeches had nearly concluded. He’d slouched into a deeply uncomfortable rental sofa, spinning a long slender breadstick in his fingers.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with your food?” Natasha teased as she handed him a whiskey neat. He quickly dumped it into his half empty coffee and took a gulp. Almost an Irish coffee. Rougher and not quite according to direction, like him.

“Convince me these are actually edible and I’ll stop.”

She yanked the slender stick from her fingers and crunched down on it. He laughed when she yelped and handed it back rubbing her jaw.

“Think one of these penguin suits is a decent dentist?” she groaned, scanning the room of tuxedos and glittering evening gowns.

“I think if you ask you’ll never hear yourself talk again,” he grumbled, taking another gulp of his drink. “I’m bored.”

Natasha hummed her agreement and took a sip of her cocktail while she scanned the room. “Well the band’s about to start. Take bets on the playlist? I’ll take $100 we get two Journey songs.”

“You think I’ve got $100 to flush down the toilet?”

Natasha laughed and shrugged. “Works on the dentists.”

He laughed, watching her scan the room, looking for a target for the night.

“Big red over there is pretty,” she nodded toward the stage.

Clint perked up, turning to look over his shoulder at the singer in the bright red dress.

“What d’you think her drink is?” Natasha asked, eyes too busy reading a million silent clues to see her friend’s slack jaw and wide, eager eyes. “I’m guessing… Gin martini with lemon. Definitely goes for a twist.”

“Coke,” Clint answered quietly beside her, as shocked as he was mesmerized. The band had begun to play, and of course she was a front-woman. It was so obvious it hurt. Or was that the pounding in his chest.

“What did you say?”

“She likes coke,” he answered, a smile slowly curling his lips. “I’m going rum and coke.”

Thoughtlessly, effortlessly, he was on his feet, moving toward the stage. He suddenly had that feeling again. Red. You wore it and you lived it. You came alive on that stage. With smiles and winks, a little dance and a few songs, you’d drawn every guest into motion.

They tapped of fingers modestly against their glasses mid-conversation. Or they swayed shoulders, skirting the dance-floor hoping to be asked. The more exuberant guests allowed themselves to be swept into the current.

You were a red neon light, glowing, burning. Energy itself innervating the room. He felt it on his skin and in the center of his chest.

“Do you know her?” Natasha turned to him, somewhere between an amused smile and a confused frown distorting her smooth features.

“We danced once…”

“You?”

“In a bodega.” He chuckled at the memory, at the promise it held.

“That makes more sense,” she smirked and scanned the room again. “Well, I guess I’ll have to try again for a dance partner then?”

“Uh-huh.” He hadn’t really heard. He’d stopped paying attention a long time ago. He was drawn like a moth to a bright red flame.

He waited, enjoying the rest of the party, for once. For once, he had something else to think about.

“You guys have been great,” you smiled wide into the microphone. “We’re gonna take a little break. Just enough time to have another look at the silent auction items.” A wink and the spotlight cut off the stage just as you turned to leave it in a swirl of red dress, blue light, and humming voices.

Clint weaved his way through the crowd as you and your band-mates cleared the stage. He had no idea what he was doing or what he might say, but… it seemed like fate. Like the wind had blown a lucky red balloon just within reach.

“No, fuck being friends!” he heard your whisper-shout when he finally spotted you down the hall. With eyes scrunched closed, your hands pushed out in front of you, toward the man across the hall. “This has never been just friends. Not for me. And it’s not for you either; you just can’t… You want to play around but my heart isn’t a toy. I can’t do this hot and cold thing.”

“Baby, don’t be like that,” the man urged, taking your hand. He stepped close. Very close. “I came to see you.”

You shoved the man’s hand away abruptly. “To see me.” A bitter laugh cut through the air. “It’s like you have some kind of special shit-stirrer’s radar. Every time I start doing okay without you, you turn up and make damn sure I’m not.”

“So don’t be without me,” he cooed, stroking his hands down your arms. “Not tonight.”

“This is what I mean. You want me ‘til you don’t. Doesn’t seem like that’s changed, has it?”

He merely sighed and looked at his feet, shaking his head, unwilling to answer. Always unwilling to risk anything but you. He was guarded while you stood, as ever, with a heart open and alive, red and beating, straining to feel it all. As ever, you were tired of breaking yourself against someone else’s walls.

You shook your head and pushed the man away gently. “Just go,” you said softly, hardly more than a whisper.

Having realized, too late, exactly what he’d stumbled upon, Clint turned to slip away in the shadows, unnoticed. Except Clint Barton, SHIELD spy, Avengers sharpshooter was shockingly prone to accidents. The clatter of glass drew your attention down the half-lit hallway. He’d tripped over a cocktail glass some wandering guest had left behind.

“The fundraiser’s the next door on your left,” you called, assuming he was a lost patron.

“Don’t do that,” the man across from you cooed, resuming your argument and reaching for you again. This time you moved out of reach. “We’re good as friends. Come with me, just for the night, for old time’s sake. No strings. We both know what it is this time; no one gets hurt..”

Clint didn’t like pushy people. He didn’t like anyone who manipulated their way into places they weren’t invited. He’d known a few.

“Um actually… I’m uh with the event” Clint stumbled with a sheepish grin that appealed to you immediately. It beamed a signal: gentle and safe, and… familiar. “I was hoping to talk to you.” He was giving you an out and you were grateful.

“I have to go,” you told the man you’d been arguing with. “So do you.”

With that you patted his shoulder and turned down the hall towards the event. Towards Clint.

“Hey honey, what can I help you with?” you asked with a customer service smile glued to your face, eyes shimmering with struggle.

“I was…” Clint stopped and shook his head, changing course. “Are you alright?”

“Of course.” In the momentary pause Clint raised his eyebrows, ever skeptical, and you , you released a heavy sigh. A bittersweet smile tilted your lips. “Or I will be. ”

“He seems like a jerk. You should go have a drink and dance til your feet are numb and buy yourself something weird and awesome and forget all about him,” he held out his elbow for you and you took it, looping your arm around his with a watery laugh. As if you could afford a single thing on the auction block.

You turned to him as he led you back to the party, with your fingers curled around his rigid bicep. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh, no. Nevermind.”

“No, come on!” You bumped him with your shoulder. “What was it?”

He turned to face you but shook his head, looking at his feet and yours, swept by that red-as-red-could-be red dress.

“I recognized you, is all,” he admitted. “When you guys started playing... I think the bodega performance was maybe, a cut above, but,” he shrugged with a huge grin on his face.

You burst into laughter at the memory.

“The bodega!” you smacked your palm onto your forehead. “Oh my god, I was… not myself that night.” You tipped your head with a wink to be sure he understood.

This time it was Clint who laughed. And you enjoyed every bit of it. The shocked rise of his eyebrows, the glint in his wide eyes, and the huge grin on his lips… It brightened your heavy heart. He was good at that, apparently.

“I should have known,” he laughed, “Sober people don’t sing to coke bottles.”

“Oh no, I absolutely do that sober.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “You’re that kind of person.”

“And you’re lucky to have witnessed it.”

“I am,” he agreed, with something warm and soft in his eyes.

“That was another ex-boyfriend special. Ending a night to forget with junk food and a hangover on the horizon,” you sighed, shaking your head. “I’m a jump in with both feet sort of girl, ya know?” He did know. In his mind you were bright red, full of risks. And if you were lucky, he assumed, gleaming rewards. It made perfect sense that you felt strongly and acted rashly. Red. “When I see something I like I’m all in. And he was a… a…”

“An idiot?” Clint offered. “An asshat? Blind?”

Your laughter was infectious to him. He didn’t even care if it was at his expense. He just wanted to hear it.

“That too, I like to think,” you agreed through a giggle. “Truth is: I’m the idiot. I feel too much and I get my heart broken too often. Can’t turn it off.”

“No,” Clint argued, dropping your hand from his arm so he could turn to face you. “Definitely not an idiot.”

“No?”

“Brave.”

People like you were a complete mystery to Clint. He could barely bring himself to say things like ‘I love you’ to people he well and truly loved. They knew it. People like Nat, and the others: his family. They shared traumas and challenges that understood why. Yet here you were, brimming with it, ready to share it so easily. This was what he had been drawn to that day in the bodega, and this was what had pulled him down the hallway looking for you this night like a moth to the bright red heat of a flame.

You chuckled softly, turning embarrassed eyes to your feet. “You do know there are real live Avengers in this room, right?”

“WHAT?!” he shrieked, feigning shock and looking wide-eyed about the room.

This time your laugh was deep and full. He was so light and fun, this stranger. Time with him was weightless, light as a feather. It cheered you up moment by tiny moment.

“I don’t know if I qualify as brave in this crowd,” you explained.

“Well,” he turned back to you. “Would I qualify if I danced around like a preschooler on Kool-Aid?”

“Oh, definitely,” you grinned, nodding.

“Bravest of them all.”

“Look out, Lancelot!”

By the time you glanced up to the stage, your band was already gearing up to finish the set. One grateful squeeze to your new yet old friend’s arm and you were off. Clint tried not to read too much into it, but it felt like a whole conversation. A ‘thanks,’ a ‘see you,’ a silent ‘I like this.’ Wishful thinking, he told himself.

You didn’t want to leave Clint’s side, but the show must go on. Especially one paid for by the biggest name in New York City.

It was the worst set of your life. Your band mates were furious. You were completely blowing an important gig, but damn it all, you couldn’t stop laughing.

Clint had planted himself at the center of the dance floor and held true to what you had thought was a joke. He flailed and jerked like a madman. He slid behind unsuspecting dancers making faces and wild gestures. He dragged a confused and reluctant Tony onto the floor for a waltz during your most lively song. It made no sense and it was exactly what you needed.

He spun and lunged and dipped, taking stealthy sips through straws of drinks held behind intimately held partner’s backs. Partner pairs he was absolutely not a part of.

What finally, finally got you to step away from the mike, cover your face, and double over laughing was the chicken dance in the middle of a slow mushy ballad.

The pianist glared at you before looking to your lead guitarist for help. They turned it into a lovely instrumental on the fly and you ended the show early.

“Thank you all, you’ve been a wonderful audience,” you managed through giggles. “And a generous one by the look of it! Give yourselves a hand! A beautiful evening for a beautiful cause.”

You paused for the soft applause that filled the room as the dancing stopped. Clint grinned up at you, fanning himself in mock exhaustion. Though, you didn’t doubt he probably had worn his dress shoes to blistering.

“And a special round of applause for my personal hero down here on the dance floor! Mr. Lancelot!”

This time it was Clint who turned red. He tried to duck into the crowd, shaking his head with a sheepish laugh.

“What the hell are you up to?” Tony asked in a discrete, tight lipped murmur as he, slung an arm over Clint’s shoulder, saving him from the limelight.

“Oh damn,” he sighed, high and long. Exhausted. “I have no idea.”

“If uh,” you stammered on the stage, the first time all night Clint had seen you look unsure. “If he wanted to hang around for a bit I’m gonna go get some pizza because this fancy fundraiser food is served on a toothpick and I’m starving.”

Clint’s entire face lit up. It was the most lovely thing you’d ever seen. It started in his eyes: they looked up into the light of the stage and glittered, narrowing as the smile pushed at his cheeks, rounding them and wrinkling the soft skin near his clear blue eyes. Lopsided, his lips drew over grinning white teeth, as he glanced at his feet, blushing.

He was cute as hell.

He laughed under Tony’s arm and nodded. A matching smile erupted across your own face, for the first time in weeks, excited to be greeting the early morning hours.

“You’re kidding me,” Tony scoffed from beside Clint. “Those moves actually worked?”

Part 3 >>

#clint x reader #clint barton x reader #clint x reader fluff #clint barton fanfic #clint fanfic #avengers fanfic #vivid 2 #vivid part 2 #vivid chapter 2

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boku-no-biatch-academia · 5 years

Text

Willing To Ride | Izuocha

Summary: Izuku and Ochako spend an afternoon at the fair together.

*****

Inko Midoriya ignored her son’s tears of pain as she dampened his hair with a spray bottle full of water, “Do you know what you guys are going to do at the festival tonight?”

Using a hairbrush, she tugged at her son’s tangled mop of hair with all her might, determined to brush out a stubborn knot. Izuku’s face was locked in a painful grimace as she pulled. With a hard plunk, she successfully defeated the knot, then opened a tub of gel and scooped some out with her fingers.

“Erm, I’m not sure. I think we’re just gonna walk around and probably shop or something,”

That evening, a local winter festival was taking place. Mr. Aizawa had told Class-1A that a number of hero agencies would be appearing there with seminars containing information about the pro hero business. He also told them that they would get extra credit if they attended the event and wrote a paper about what they had learned. Upon hearing the idea, Ochako Uraraka giddily invited Izuku to tag along with her since they were both free that weekend. Excited about the prospect of hearing from the pros, Izuku agreed to come.

“Ooh, sounds fun! Remind me again, who are you going with?”

“Uraraka,”

Oh, right!” she stopped for a moment to smile to herself, “Your little girlfriend,”

“G-girlfirend?!”

“Well, isn’t she?”

Izuku opened his mouth to respond immediately but found himself making incoherent noises.

Inko gelled up one of his curls and smoothed it down with a comb. With great care, she continued to work on his hair until it was slick and handsome-looking. It took quite a lot of work considering the amount of hair on top of his head, but in her eyes, it was worth the effort. He went from looking like a green nappy mophead to a classy, groomed boy that even Best Jeanist would be proud of. Satisfied with her work, her eyes gleamed as she watched him check his reflection in the mirror, commented on how handsome he looked, then suddenly rushed to find the extra hold hairspray she had forgotten to use.

Izuku’s face contorted a bit as he inspected his mother’s work. It wasn’t necessarily an expression of disgust, but he felt that it may have been a tad too formal for the occasion. For some reason beyond him, his mother decided that he should dress up before meeting with Ochako that night, rambling something about the importance of making a good impression on a girl when taking her out, looking like a gentleman, and so on and so forth. Heat rose in his freckled cheeks. He had never been invited out by a girl before, especially one as charming as Ochako Uraraka. Her smile had a radiance that lit up every room she walked into; it also had a tendency to ignite a spark within Izuku’s chest that made him feel sort of uneasy, but, in a good way. He gently tapped his fingers against his hair. Smooth and damp. Without his mother’s hairspray, he was sure that his disobedient curls would eventually pop right back out before the end of the night. As he turned to inspect the side, another thought popped into his head. What would Uraraka think about it? Not that it truly mattered in the grand scheme of things. His mom was the one who assumed they were going out on a date, not him, nor Uraraka. Right? Right. Of course. There wasn’t any reason for him to assume it was a date. Furthermore, there was no reason for him to be worried about her taste in men’s hairstyles. But it was a thought that came into the forefront of his mind anyway.

Ding dong!

“Oh! That must be her, I’ll get it!” Izuku saw his mother scurry past him with a can of hairspray and excitedly open the front door.

“Hello, Mrs. Midoriya! How are you?”

Ochako’s unmistakable voice could be heard from the doorway. Almost immediately, the realization of her presence in his home froze him in place. He didn’t dare to turn around, acting as if looking straight at her would set him ablaze. So, he stayed put and pretended to be invested in his reflection, sneakily stealing glances at the other two through the mirror. From his position, his mother blocked out most of Ochako’s figure, so all he could see was the swish of her brown hair.

“Oh, Deku! There you are,”

She came up from behind and circled around in front of him.

“Sorry I’m late. It took a little bit longer than expected to get ready, so I missed the first bus here,” she went for her bag that she brought with her and began to search in it for something.

Izuku took advantage now that she was distracted and actually looked up at her.

She had on a purple coat that was somewhat snug around her form and whose sleeves were a tad too short. It was most definitely something she was quickly growing out of. She probably couldn’t afford to buy a newer jacket with her tight budget, so she made due. There was also a cute black scarf wrapped neatly around her neck to match her black leggings. What stuck out the most to him was the cherry hue to her lips, which was either from some kind of lipgloss or a result of spending a little too much time at the mercy of the crisp, fall wind.

Seeing how nicely she dressed put him somewhat at ease, but not enough to take away his self-consciousness about his hair.

“It’s no problem,” he said.

“Oh, by the way, here’s your ticket!” Uraraka pulled out a stub of paper and handed it over to him. “I saw that they were selling them online, so I just decided to get them so we don’t have to wait in line.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that! Izuku could have bought his own ticket,” Inko said.

Uraraka waved her hand and bashfully responded “Oh don’t worry, it’s my treat,”

Coming up behind Izuku, Inko placed her hands on his shoulders. “Well, isn’t she sweet?”

Sensing that his mother was about to say something that would embarrass him, Izuku stood up and put the ticket in his pocket.

“Well, I think we should go. It would be a shame if the lines for the rides got too long.” As two teenagers made their way out, Inko waved them off with the usual parting message of “Be safe!” and “Don’t stay out too late!”

About 20 minutes later, when they stepped off the bus, Izuku and Ochako were completely bombarded by the liveliness of the festival. Glimmering fluorescent lights buzzed in competition against traditional paper lanterns. A loud, roaring hum of festival-goers, moving parts, footsteps, chirps and barks and meows, and squeals. The scent of fresh, piping hot street food filled their chilly noses as the wind blew harshly against them. Filing through a crowd of people, they found themselves at a loss of what to do first. Should they go straight for the rides? Eat a snack? Watch one of the local street performers?

“Okay…let’s see what we’ve got here,” said Ochako, scanning with a hand placed over her brow. “We’ve got two immediate options: In this direction, we can play some games or grab a snack. But if we go this way, we can go straight for the rides….ahh, such hard choices!” she said, shaking her head. Then she wrinkled her face and stared at the ground for a second, and after that, she turned towards him.

“By the way, how come your hair looks like that?”

“Hm? Oh!” Izuku’s hands shot up to his hair and he patted it, remembering what it looked like. “I-it was my mom, she thought that I should something different with it…s-so,” his cheeks reddened. He was suddenly reminded again that a huge part of Ochako’s personality is her tendency to say exactly what’s on her mind, regardless of whether or not she was aware of it.

“Oh. Well, it’s definitely an interesting change, hehe.” she smiled at him before turning to walk towards a map of the festival grounds a few yards away. Izuku followed closely behind, and as they passed a food truck he stopped at one of the windows to fluff his hair back in its usual curly state.

They eventually decided to tackle the rides first, then loop around until they reached the main stage, where the hero agencies would be holding their seminars. It seemed the most sensible plan because it allowed them to grab a bite to eat without worrying about puking it all up on a rollercoaster. First, they hopped on some teacups as a starter, then a wood coaster that felt a little too old to still be in use and which threatened to crack under its own weight at any second, then a spinning vortex ride where the riders stuck to the walls, which Izuku claimed was his favorite so far, but gave Ochako the same nauseous feeling she got when overusing her gravity quirk.

They decided that they needed a break from all of the adrenaline, (and agreed that if Uraraka were to ride anything else in the next ten minutes, she would puke) so they decided to head towards the main stage where the hero seminars were taking place. When they stopped to scan the bleachers for an available seat, an excited, manly voice called out to them.

“Yo! Midoriya!”

They two whipped their heads around to see Kirishima running up to them with a toothy smile; his face was lit up both with excitement and the six glow stick hanging off of his neck.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were gonna come today! Gee, you must have had a lucky streak all day today, huh?” said Uraraka, motioning towards the bundle of stuffed and blown up prizes clutched in Kirishima’s arms.

“You bet! Check this out, this one’s my favorite.” He revealed a small plush Sumo wrestler.

“Oh, it’s Bakugo!”

Silent, blonde, and obviously grumpy, Bakugo strutted his way over to Kirishima with his eyes fixed to the floor.

“It took a lot of convincing, but I got him to tag along last minute,” Kirishima threw an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“Get your hands off me, broom head!” Bakugo barked.

“Oh shut up and eat your taimaki,”

The boys waved them off (well, Kirishima did, Bakugo completely ignored them) and went to go sit down. Ochako discovered that another one of their classmates, Tsuyu Asui, was sitting by herself near the middle. After determining that the seats on either side of her weren’t taken, Izuku and Ochako went and sat with her. Not long after, the seminar started. It was set up as a sort of panel with a few heroes from different agencies sitting at a table to take questions from the crowd. Of course, Izuku was one of the most engaging audience members, raising his hand every other minute or so and piling notes upon notes into a notebook that he carried along with him. At some point during the seminar, Ochako’s attention drifted from the heroes on the stage and she became fixated on her friend. The way that his hand shot up in the air when another question popped into his mind was incredibly amusing. His beaming, goofy smile and the spark in his eyes sent a flutter in her chest. There was something magical about it, the way he broke free from his shell and let his inner confidence shine through every time he got the chance to talk about heroes. It was strangely intimate, almost like she was peeking at him through a window during a moment of privacy. It felt dangerous. And yet at the same time, she saw herself in the room with him. Absorbing every word he said with genuine excitement and attention. And then, maybe, his hand would fall onto her lap. And as he spoke, his mop of forest green hair invited her, dared her, even, to run her fingers through it.

Then all of a sudden he was facing her. Ochako quickly swung her head away from his direction and focused her eyes to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him look her up and down for a brief second before turning his attention back to the stage. Her face burned horribly. Although it was just a quick glance, just the thought of him possibly catching her staring at him was enough to make her flustered beyond belief.

“Erm, Tsu, could you come with me to the bathroom?”

Once the girls left the crowd and turned the corner around a food truck, Ochako let out a sharp exhale out of exasperation. She threw her face into her hands.

“Gah, I feel like throwing up,”

“Then go to the bathroom.”

“What? No, no I don’t actually need to use the bathroom,”

Tsuyu turned her head inquisitively.

“One moment I feel fine, and the next I can’t think straight. And I try so hard to not do that, but every single time it just…comes out of nowhere!”

Tsuyu brought her finger up to her chin and tapped it a few times as she formulated her words in her head, then turned back to Ochako.

“Well, if you bury everything inside you’re just bound to explode,” she said in her usual matter-of-fact tone. Tsuyu always spoke with a laidback, thoughtful presence, and everything she said always seemed well thought out and reasonable. This quality of hers garnered her much respect from her friends and came in handy when she found herself in precarious situations.

Her words seemed to rattle something within Ochako, and suddenly there was a glimmer of recognition behind her eyes. She jolted upright and took on an expression of a mix of shock and embarrassment. She met Tsuyu’s eyes with a pleading expression as if asking if she knew, to which Tsuyu returned a confirming look. Ochako’s cheeks colored.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“If you’re comfortable, just talk to him. It’s better, to be honest than to keep anything a secret, especially if it involves your close friends, ribbit!” said Tsuyu, “Besides, the worst thing that could happen is that he doesn’t feel the same way. And if that’s the case, at least you’ll be able to move on,”

Ochako’s face contorted as she processed Tsuyu’s advice. Pushing down her feelings certainly didn’t work, and as time went on it became harder and harder to maintain her emotions for Izuku. Her friend was definitely right in what she should do. But it’s not that easy! How would she even begin to explain such a thing to him? Especially after all the time they had known each other; her feelings have only grown stronger day by day. She had been burying them inside and piling them up for months on end. And with this combination of burying and piling, they mixed and twisted into something incredibly foreign to her, something so much deeper than just a schoolgirl crush. What if she found herself at a loss for words trying to express herself? Or worse, overwhelming him with her feelings?

The panel had ended while the girls were still “in the bathroom,” and as the crowd dispersed, they made their way back to find Izuku. The three chatted about the seminar for a few minutes, and then Tsuyu parted ways to head home early. Checking the seminar off their list of things to do, Ochako and Izuku went back to strolling around and amusing themselves with the diverse array of activities that surrounded them.

After a while, they passed by the giant Ferris wheel, which towered over everything else in the park, save for the giant spinning swings. Ochako immediately lit up at the sight of it, encapsulated by the bright, rainbow lights decorating the spokes, which flashed in crazy patterns in sync with the music being played by some speakers attached to the base.

“Ooh! Let’s go there!” she said, grabbing Izuku’s arm and dashing towards the line.

After they had gotten on the ride, Ochako leaned forward a bit to lean against the protective bar, pulled the cuffs of her coat up to cover her cold hands and gave them a blow of warm air from her lips before resting her face on them. Izuku watched her do this with odd fixed attention. Her puckered lips were still as cherry red as before. For some reason, he felt the urge to start a conversation with her, but as his mouth moved to form words, he realized he didn’t have anything interesting to say. So, he bumbled a bit and spat out something along the lines of

“s’cold, isn’t it?”

Ochako turned towards him and the expression on her face told him that she didn’t catch what he had said. He colored.

“...Ya know, I know that this was kind of an assignment for class, but I’m really glad you came with me today,” she said.

“Oh. Really?”

“Yeah, really. It’s funny, I wasn’t expecting you to actually come. Well, actually I was, but I wasn’t at the same time. Yeah I know it’s confusing, gah!”

Ochako turned away and hid her face behind her hand in a motion that made their seat swing a little bit. Startled, the two quickly grabbed onto the seat in an effort to stabilize it. In doing so, their hands touched each other accidentally as they clasped the protective bar. Ochako quickly snatched her hand away, then did a double-take at him.

“Woah, your hands are so warm!” She said, clasping his right hand in between both of hers, like a hand sandwich.

“Are they?”

Izuku pretended to be unaware, but he knew that the cause of it was because he had been in a nervous sweat the entire evening. It was actually a relief to feel her cold touch against his burning palm, at least it was for a few seconds. Because he felt them get clammy as he noticed how long she had been clasping it. Finally, she let it go.

“I wonder. Do you think Todoroki has warm hands or cold hands? Or both?”

“I’m not sure,” he replied. Then he went on to contribute to the thought, only to be interrupted by a sudden commotion from below. There was the sound of a gross, manly screech that echoed from some unknown origin. Startled, the two looked around themselves, then on the ground below, and couldn’t find a thing. There was a beat of silence. Then they looked at each other, and then they both broke out into laughter. For some odd reason, the strange noise provided the catalyst for a release they both desperately needed. And they laughed hard, until the point where their sides hurt. Ochako had a hand on his shoulder and was grabbing it to keep herself from falling out of the seat. Their cheeks went sore from smiling for so long and for a moment it seemed like they had forgotten what had even caused them to laugh in the first place, but they didn’t care.

Izuku wiped a tear from his eye, then looked ahead and beamed as he realized that they had finally reached the top. Ochako followed his gaze. Since they had arrived, the time had droned on in the background, and at that moment they just realized that the sun had finally set and it was dark outside. So, the lights and lanterns that shone wild colors were even brighter than before. It was mesmerizing. A draft of cold wind snuck up on them and licked at the back of Ochako’s neck. She shivered harshly and pulled her slightly undersized coat tighter around her. Noticing that it hadn’t really given her much relief, Izuku asked her again if she were cold. This time having understood him, she nodded with a grimace. He then, with a quick moment of hesitation, scooted closer to her and tried to reach and put his arm around her.

KaBOOM!!!

Before he could touch her, the ride trembled in the shockwave caused by a sudden explosion. Their seat swung violently and they were thrown into each other. Screams of terror emerged from other riders and Izuku himself. He looked about and saw a commotion a couple of yards ahead. Twenty yards across was the stage where the hero seminar was held, although now it was set up for some magic show and there was a gust of smoke on stage from which a figure in a maroon cloak and an animal mask emerged.

“Oh ho ho! I admit, even I jumped a little with that one,” the cloaked figure’s voice boomed through a microphone.

Izuku’s mouth hung open in disbelief and he clutched his heart. Ochako was holding her mouth shut in an effort to contain her laughter. She turned and cupped his cheeks with her hands, making sure to keep both pinkies off of his skin in case her anti-gravity quirk activated.

“You’re such a dummy,” she said.

His mouth curled into a crooked shape and he shrunk down. His nervous sweats came back full force as his cheeks turned into red blotches.

The ride was over and once they hopped off they decided that it was time to leave. On the way out, Izuku bought Uraraka a snack from one of the food trucks as a treat and a thank you for inviting him along. Then they boarded the bus and rode it all the way to Uraraka’s street. They hopped off and walked until they found her apartment complex.

When they reached her door, she turned towards him. She let her hand fall upon the side of his bicep and she gave it a friendly squeeze.

“I guess this is where we part ways,” she said.

Then her hand traveled down until their fingers met. In an impulse she took the opportunity to fully grab onto his hand, first cupping it, then intertwining her fingers in between his. His hands were warm. She smiled.

“Goodnight,”

She kissed his cheek, squishing her lips against his cool skin for what felt like the blink of an eye.

A jolt went through Izuku’s body and once she pulled away he immediately reached up to touch the spot her lips touched. Blood rushed into his face as the sensation lingered.

The slight stickiness confirmed that she was, in fact, wearing cherry red lipgloss.

He opened his mouth to say something but she had slipped into her apartment and closed the door before he could.

For a moment he stood there alone with only the sound of the wind blowing by. His heart fluttered inside of his chest. And he forgot to breathe for a few drawn out seconds. He eventually broke out of his shocked stiffness with a very slight, almost unnoticeable smile. A light chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head as he quickly walked off in a stupor.

((Hope you guys liked it!! This is my second BNHA fic and I really liked how it turned out. This may have a part two, idk yet. Hope you enjoy!!))

#bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #mha #deku #uraraka ochako #izuocha #dekuraka #bnha fan fic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction

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buckysforeverprincess · 5 years

Text

What Do You Want From Me? Ch 8

Lance X Reader, Jase x Reader, OFC Claire

Words: 2862

Warnings: Language

A/N: The night of Jase and readers date...what could happen? Enjoy!

You were nervous the entire time you got ready for your date with Jase. The last time you'd been on a real date was three years ago, and that relationship only lasted a few months.

Drew was not a fan of how much time you spent with Lance. Even after explaining how the job was too new to make demands for yourself and telling him you'd negotiate with Lance later, Drew decided later wasn’t soon enough and left just shy of six months. Maybe you should’ve listened to him.

Putting on the finishing touches of your makeup, you looked at your phone to check the time. Jase was picking you up at six thirty, which gave you fifteen minutes to put on the dress and shoes.

There's also a text from Jase telling you he was on his way, and your stomach starts to bubble. How were you going to make it through the night if you couldn't get it together? Hopefully, hanging on the arm of one sexy lawyer you'd like to fuck, will give you a much-needed confidence boost you were looking for. It couldn’t hurt, right?

Pulling yourself from your less than pure thoughts you put on your shoes followed by the dress. You couldn't quite get the zipper up and would need to ask Jase to help when he arrived, but by all accounts, you were ready for the night to begin.

Your thoughts suddenly slipped to Lance. What it would have been like to attend functions like this with him. To get all dressed up and hang on his arm all evening, have him look at you like you were the only thing on his mind. Ugh! Get a grip woman! You're plain, ordinary, ‘average’. Lance Tucker only surrounded himself with gorgeous blonde model types. You'd never be in the same category as the women he shows off. Being plain ordinary sucks.

The knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts and your nerves came creeping back. Don't be nervous, don't be nervous, don't be nervous, you chanted as you made your way to the door. Pausing for just a moment, you took in a deep breath. “You can do this.” You whisper, and you inhaled a deep breath and opened the door.

Greeting you was the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on. He was wearing a gray suit with a white button up shirt and black tie. His blonde hair was combed back and looked like there was probably some product keeping it in place. The stubble from your first meeting looks to have grown out some and sat perfectly down his jawline to his chin and joined the mustache on his face, giving him an amazing goatee. Jesus Christ, his blue eyes were making you melt, and he looked and smelled like sex on legs!

Jase looks at you and smiles brightly, “you look absolutely stunning.”

You can't help but blush at his comment, “thank you, but have you seen yourself?! If we weren't going to this event, I'd invite you in and ride you like a horse!” You quickly place your hand over your mouth at the words that voluntarily came out. Holy fuck! You just told him you'd ride him! Who the holy hell are you?! Game over you sex crazed idiot!

Jase laughs at your comment. “As much as I want you to hop on that saddle and ride me till morning, I believe I promised you a date, and you agreed to accompany me on said date. Besides, I'm a very territorial guy. I want everyone to see the beautiful woman on my arm…let them have a taste of what they can't have. I fully intend to show you off this evening.”

You inhale a deep breath and slowly let it out. His words lit a fire deep inside you. This man was everything you wanted, and desired, and was practically staking his claim to you. All you had to do was grab hold and never let go.

“I just need to grab my coat and wallet. Oh, could you zip me up, please?” You turn your back to him.

“I'd love to.” He replies, and places one hand on your hip, and the other finds the zipper. Jase is moving it up slowly, like he's appreciating the view. Once he reaches the top, he moves your hair to the side and places a kiss on the back of your neck. A chill runs through your body, and you are so close to just saying ‘fuck all’ and take him back to your bedroom to make good on that ride!

You turn around to face him, and he's staring at you with lust blow eyes.

“If we don't leave now, I'll probably ruin that amazing dress of yours, and it would be a shame to do so without getting to enjoy it first.” His voice has lowered an octave and is mind blowingly sex filled.

“Let's go now!” You grab your coat and brown checkered Louis Vuitton Croisette Wallet with chain (the only thing Lance bought you the entire time you've worked for him) and walked out the door.

Arriving at the event was nothing you've ever experienced before. The building itself looked as though it were hosting a Hollywood premiere; spotlights flashing, and red carpet leading to the entrance. Valet! There was a valet, and they were helping you to get out of the car, while your date traded his keys for a ticket to be turned back in when it was time to leave.

“Shall we?” Jase asks, holding out his arm to you with a smile.

“We shall.” You wrap your arm through his, and the two of you walk inside.

Everything is so intimidating, and your nerves were starting to take control. All the women you saw were so intimidatingly beautiful, you knew you were out of your depth. Their dresses were either sleek and form fitting, or elegant but lacy. For a moment you felt underdressed, and the words ‘average’ squeaked back into your head.

Jase sensing your unease, pulled you in closer to whisper in your ear. “I can assure you, you're the most beautiful woman in this room, and plenty of them are more intimidated by your beauty than you are of theirs. Relax. Now let me show you off!” And he places a soft kiss to your temple. The gesture so intimate, so loving. God, this man is absolutely perfect!

As promised, Jase led you around the event, introducing you to everyone he knew. The governor's wife was impressed by your politeness and wit, offering Jase an approval of his choice in women. “I’m absolutely delighted with her! She has such a classic beauty, which means her beauty is true, not bought or plastic like everyone else in this room. I hope you plan on keeping her Jase…you won't do any better!”

He laughs at the woman's brashness, “of course Aunt Jane. I have no intention of letting her go!”

You were absolutely smitten by this man. When he wasn't introducing you, his attention was only directed to you. Walking around, your arms were linked, or he was holding your hand, and when you were standing still his hand was always on your lower back. It made you feel wanted… admired. This man was showering you with attention after two days. Lance couldn't do it in three years.

“Hey stranger!” Claire's voice heard above the men talking around you.

“Claire!” You detach yourself from Jase in order to give her a hug.

“Y/N…you look breathtaking! I had to see you for myself…you're quite the talk around here tonight.”

You were quite confused by her statement. Why would anyone talk about you? “Um…why? Why would people talk about me?”

Claire smirks at you like a cunning fox, “you really don't know? I left out the part about Jase being the governors very single nephew. So, when he's seen out with a very beautiful woman, people talk!”

You suddenly felt very sick to your stomach. You had heard the conversation he had with his aunt, but it didn't dawn on you just how much he was in the public eye. Were you only here to provide him cover so all the unwanted women would stay away from him? Would you be a one-night romp, with a walk of shame in your future, never to see him again? Would Jase be another Lance?

“Excuse me Claire.” You say to your best friend, leaving her standing there and making your way through the crowd and into the women's bathroom. Once inside, you lock yourself in a stall and try to clear the thoughts racing through your head.

“Did you see Jase Collins?” You hear a female voice say as she enters the room.

“Who hasn't seen him! The man reeks of sin.” Another woman says happily.

“That poor girl on his arm has no idea what she's in for!” Both women laugh at the same time.

“He's worse than Christian Grey in a fifty shades novel.” They're cackling now.

“She looks like his type; cute, timid, and utterly clueless!” The first woman says. “He'll break her for sure, then he'll be on to the next!” They laugh as they walk out the door.

Jase has a type! Of course, he was too good to be true. No wonder you were the talk of the event. He had a reputation, and they were all intrigued by the appearance of his new potential conquest. God, Y/N! You sure know how to pick ‘em! First Lance the self-proclaimed sex god, and now Jase the master of fuckery! No wonder you're single, you really are pathetic!

You needed to get out of this place and now! Leaving the bathroom is the first step, I'll get my coat and sneak out. What's the worst that can happen?

You wished you hadn't had that inner dialogue in your head. Leaving the bathroom, you realize you weren't paying attention when you run smack dab into the chest and arms of the last man you wanted to see right now. God, you were cursed beyond belief.

“I'm so sorry Ms.! I did- Y/N?” You couldn't even look at him. “Y/N! Are you ok?” He asks, almost sounding concerned.

“I'm fine Lance. Excuse me, I need to go!” You remove yourself from his hold and begin to walk away.

“Wait, please? I'd like to talk to you.”

As if he hadn't said enough already. “Talk to me? What more could you possibly say to someone ‘average’? I mean, didn't you just ‘do me a favor’? You're probably jeopardizing your career just being seen with me right now!” You're yelling at him. It's not a full-blown yell, but it’s enough to catch a few people looking your way.

“I'm sorry. Some of the things I said were cruel and I never should have said them to you.”

You're laughing at him. If being a world class ass hole doesn't work out, maybe he can be a comedian. “Oh, Lance! Did you catch feelings? Oh, sweetie. Feelings don't feel very good, do they? You just want to get rid of them, don't you? Never see the bad feelings again, huh?” You say to him in your best condescending five-year-old voice.

Lance tightens his face and you can see he's pissed off. Good! Fucker needs a dose of his own medicine.

“Y/N this isn't funny! Stop playing around and be serious!” He reprimands you like a petulant child.

“Ok, Lance…,” you calm yourself down and take a deep breath in, “let's talk.”

“Thank you.” Lance swallows hard before he begins. “God, you’re absolutely breathtaking!” You give him a hard glare. “I'm sorry, it's just...I can't think...you're so beautiful...fuck, I'm screwing this up, ok. I'd really like to sit down and talk to you somewhere that isn't here.” He almost sounds sincere.

“Like your bed?” You raise an eyebrow to him.

“Bed is nice, we can get there-”

You don't allow him to finish his sentence, smacking his face with all the strength you can muster. “Listen up asshole! I've put up with your shit for too long and I won't do it any longer! Lance Tucker doesn't have feelings, and sure as hell doesn't sleep with the same person twice! Your entire life is a shitshow! Women throw themselves at you, and for what? Just to be treated like garbage the next day when you throw them out! You are a selfish, arrogant, cockwaffle that only cares about himself and his own ridiculous needs, and damn everyone else if you get too close! You've fucked with my life for the last time Tucker. I hope you die alone, holding your broken, useless, disease ridden cock for comfort!”

Never in the three years you've worked for him have you seen him speechless. This was a first. He looked everywhere but at you, and almost appeared like he was hurt by what you said. They say the truth hurts, so maybe Lance finally heard how badly his own actions affected everyone else.

“I was in love with you…but all that got me was one good fuck, and a broken heart. Good job, Lance! You get a gold medal in heartbreak!” Lance closes his eyes and bites his lower lip in frustration. He knows it's over. Everything he wanted is gone.

“Y/N, I've been looking all over for you…everything alright?” Jase comes up behind you from the main hall entrance.

“Sorry, I went to the bathroom and then ran into someone.”

Jase is now eyeing Lance. “Did you want to leave? We don't have to stay?” Jase looks like he's trying to get you away from Lance, sensing something off between the two of you.

“I don't think we've met, Lance Tucker.” The first thing he has to say is that? Are you shitting me right now? Oh, the balls on you asshole!

“Charmed.” Jase gives him a dismissive look, then turns to face you. “Let me grab your coat and I'll take you home.” He gives you a loving smile.

Jase turns back around and sees Lance still standing there, glaring at him. “You still here? Is there something I can help you with?” Jase asks Lance, hoping he'd get the hint and walk away.

“Yeah, there is. I'd appreciate it if you'd walk away and let me take her home.”

Oh, hell no! There's no fucking way in hell I’m leaving with him.

“Clearly your need some kind of mental help if you think I'm leaving here without my date. I don't even know who you are!” Jase tells him matter of fact like. Burn, Lance! Burn!

“If you must know...I'm the last guy she slept with!” Lance’s reply is full of arrogance.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Lance Tucker we all know has finally entered the building!

Jase doesn't seem bothered by his announcement and begins to chuckle. “You hold tight to that memory...I guarantee you won't be the next.”

Check and mate folks! Mr. Collins wins this match.

“Look, asshole! I don't know who you are, but I'm trying to have a conversation with my future wife!” Lance yells at Jase.

You’re stunned by this revelation and can only watch what's going on in front of you. You need a bucket of popcorn for this shit, maybe even some tea.

Jase starts to laugh, and Lance looks even more passed off. “Future wife? Well, Larry…just so we're clear...I'm going to take your ‘future wife’ home. Once we get there, I plan to put her down on all fours, naked as the day she was born. I fully intend on smacking her ass raw until she begs me to fuck her into oblivion, with the strength and might of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. And right before she cums, I’m going to make her scream my name so loud, you'll feel it on your wedding day. Bet you'll never forget my name, huh Luke?”

For the second-time folks, Larry, Luke, no Lance is speechless!

“Now if you'll excuse us, I'd like to take my lovely lady home. Your presence seems to have exhausted her and I'd like to get you off her mind. Have a good night!” Jase places his hand on your back and the both of you walk towards the coat check. Fuck my life he just dominated Lance Tucker. Epic!!!

In a matter of minutes, Jase has managed to not only dismiss Lance, but totally decimate his over inflated ego. You've never seen anyone handle Lance like that before. Good this man is good, and you totally forgot what had happened earlier in the bathroom.

Leaving the building, you never took one look back in Lance’s direction, but you knew he was watching, the jealous rage building inside.

And just as Lance was watching you, someone was watching him. They couldn't help the elation they had at how things turned out for Lance. It was finally time he got what he deserved. As long as Y/N moved closer to Jase, Lance’s world would come tumbling down around him. Revenge never felt so good.

#lance tucker #lance tucker x reader #lance the fucker tucker #lance tucker fanfiction #the bronze au #the bronze #pa!reader

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projectalbum · 6 years

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All the best. 200. “Accelerate,” 201. “Collapse Into Now,” 202. “Unplugged 1991/2001: The Complete Sessions” by R.E.M.

After exhaustive touring, a greatest hits disc, and a dud album, the lovable lads from Athens, R.E.M., wisely took some time to figure things out before regrouping.

The four-year absence didn’t register with me, as I was collecting the back catalogue during that break. As far as I was concerned, new material was everywhere I looked, filling up my burgeoning record collection as I finished high school and started making my way through college. By the time Accelerate (#200) burst onto the scene in March 2008, I was a junior in film school, about to attend my first documentary festival. I put aside an extra $15 from my work study job to pick up the CD the day of release— the first time I’d been able to perform that record store* ritual for my favorite band. *(Though I didn’t have access to any record stores at the time, so it was likely procured from the closest Wal-Mart.)

Fast, lean, gritty, produced by a guy who goes by “Jacknife,” this set of songs could not be more of a deliberate course-correction from the overly fussy, mid-tempo Around The Sun. Peter Buck’s skills on the axe, often mixed way down on the previous album, here announce Accelerate's punk-ish purpose in the intro to “Living Well is the Best Revenge,” leading off with a dexterous riff before the drums come trampling in. Stipe spits furiously, with the best use of his full-throated tenor since New Adventures in Hi-Fi, and the rare bar to inspire a Fuck Yeah fist-pump: "Don't set your talking points on me / History will set me free / The future's ours and you don't even rate a footnote.” Recorded and released in the tail-end of the Bush years, there are unmistakable references, drawn in anger and in weariness, to the emotional tolls of that reign.

“If the storm doesn’t kill me, the government will,” Stipe muses at the top of “Houston,” a hair over 2 minutes but suffused with poignancy. It’s an acoustically-driven Western-tinged ballad that hearkens back to “Swan Swan H” or “Monty Got A Raw Deal,” but here the drums are splashy and blown-out, the organ serves a bleating counterpoint to the vocal, and bowed electric guitar bleeds through into the verses, serious as storm clouds. The intriguing production choices are what mark it as the Accelerate twist on familiar R.E.M. tropes. The chorus: “Houston is filled with promise / Laredo's a beautiful place / Galveston sings like that song that I love / Its meaning has not been erased” is stirring, as if to absolve the Lone Star state for spawning the political dynasty that led to 2 disastrous presidencies. "Belief has not filled me / And so I am put to the test” are the last words before distortion drowns out the melody like a fatal wave. The song has never left my head.

“Until The Day Is Done” is a more familiar flavor of the band’s earnest political identity— it even ended up scoring a CNN-produced piece on environmental issues. The lyrics approach the first two verses of Leonard Cohen’s “Everybody Knows” in reflecting a distressing capitalist landscape, and to read them is to find that the “business-first flat earthers” have only doubled-down in the decade since the song was released. But the lack of idiosyncrasies leaves us with a folky protest song, and it has a tendency to become oatmeal to the ear, nestled amongst the bolder sonic moments.

By which I mean the muscular guitar sounds and fast n’ furious arrangements on tracks like “Man-Sized Wreath,” “Accelerate,” “Horse To Water”— the revitalized band blowing up the electronic, art school solemnity of the preceding Bill Berry-less records. I remember I once put on Accelerate during a day of recording drive-by b-roll footage with some new coworkers, who enthused, “We were a little worried when you said you were gonna play R.E.M…. but this is really good!” I just glided past the implied criticism and took the positive note.

In early 2011, songs for their follow-up began to be released on YouTube and rolled out by the pop culture press. I’ll admit I was underwhelmed by what I heard. Accelerate’s novelty, its flouting of the band’s cliches, had me expecting another quantum leap in a wild direction. Collapse Into Now (#201) was feeling more like a greatest hits mashup.

“Discoverer” at times sounds like an interpolation of “Man-Sized Wreath” (compare the chorus of the former to the verses of the latter.) That exultant wordless harmonizing on “It Happened Today” is straight from “Belong” on Out of Time (plus special guest Eddie Vedder.) “Blue,” the closing track, takes equal parts New Adventures’ “E-Bow The Letter” (dark grinding minor key, Beat poetry, plus Patti Smith-voiced chorus) and Out of Time's “Country Feedback” (the chords sound similar, and the aching Peter Buck solo is back). I’d never before been able to identify the sonic inspirations so easily. However, for all my creeping dissatisfaction, as a true fanboy I knew the record would grow on me. The prophecy was indeed fulfilled.

The song that most represented the sound of a modern-day R.E.M. was “Mine Smell Like Honey.” It was unmistakably them, with the inscrutable lyrics, Michael in gravel-throated rock mode, a Mike Mills vocal harmony line designed to carry its own trajectory while lifting up the chorus, Buck with an indelible riff that doesn’t show off for its own sake— but it would fit right on modern rock radio in 2011, if that still existed. I had another one of my Best Buy PA system epiphanies, clicking this track into place, proving sometimes you need some huge speakers with good bass to truly experience certain songs. In a similar mode, “That Someone Is You” rockets by in under 2 minutes; a live-in-the-room ode to the feeling of meeting that exciting new person who'll lift you out of the mud.

The mid-tempo balladry is back as well, diversifying the sound from the previous release. In “Oh My Heart,” a direct sequel to “Houston,” Stipe croons a New Orleans spiritual with "a new take on faith," while Buck's mandolin comes out of retirement for another sweet, sad melody, and Mills fills in the mournful choir. As with the song’s predecessor, it’s a high-point in the track listing that moves me whenever I hear it.

Before I had warmed to Collapse Into Now, I comforted myself with the idea that New LP equaled New Tour. I could finally catch my favorite band live! They told the press they had no plans to tour behind the record. Odd, but they were an institution, so they could take a pause. I’d recently witnessed Paul McCartney tearing through his hits in person, and he’d already blown past age 64. Then in September 2011, R.E.M. announced they had decided to “call it a day as a band”— a phrase designed to wave away the idea of Beatles-esque acrimony. I was, you can probably imagine, more than a little heartbroken. The previous tour had come within 2-and-a-half hours of my town back in ’08. At that point in my life, that seemed like a hassle: why not wait, see if they made it a little closer next time? Now, I wish I had put in the extra effort.

With this announcement, the sense of Collapse as R.E.M.’s tribute album to themselves came into focus. Stipe is even waving goodbye, for god’s sake, on the first album cover photo to clearly feature the faces of the whole band since 1985’s Fables of the Reconstruction. "It's just like me to overstay my welcome, bless” he sings with sheepish glee on “All The Best.” Shrouded by the spirit-radio-filtered effect of his “Blue” recitation comes his clearest statement of purpose: "I want Whitman proud. Patti Lee proud. My brothers proud. My sisters proud. I want me. I want it all,” and then Patti Lee (Smith), one of his earliest lead singer inspirations, draws the narrative to a close… before the ringing jangle of opener “Discoverer” reprises and concludes. The book’s been closed shut… but the story of the band’s music continues.

There was the inevitable plundering of the vaults. An over-arching Best Of record, finally combining songs from the I.R.S. and WB catalogues (didn’t buy it), with 3 brand new recordings (they’re ok). Two digital-only “Complete Rarities” collections, encompassing hours of b-sides and soundtrack cuts (lotta great stuff, but this week WB removed all of theirs from Spotify, so I’m pretty perturbed).

In 2014, 3 years into my mourning period, they announced Unplugged 1991/2001 (#202), a 2-CD set of their appearances on the MTV show where bands play intimate, stripped-down acoustic sets… you know, in front of multiple TV cameras capturing every angle. Now this got me excited, maybe more than I had been for their swan song record— Bob Dylan Unplugged, Paul McCartney Unplugged, and The Unplugged Collection Vol. 1 had all got a lot of play in my home through the years. Other than my favorite version of “Half A World Away” closing out the Vol. 1 compilation, and a burned, hand-labeled CD-R I had once glimpsed on a coffee table during a realtor’s house tour, recordings of R.E.M.’s appearance on the show didn’t seem to exist until now. I pre-ordered that bad boy.

The set is a snapshot of two very different eras for the band: Disc 1 features them on the cusp of superstardom fueled by Out Of Time’s success, with the classic lineup of Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe and support from Peter Holsapple. Disc 2 finds them down to a three-piece, supporting Reveal, a record that never got its due, with their frequent contributors Scott McCaughey and Joey Waronker filling out the sound. “Losing My Religion” is on both discs, of course, from the bright new hit that pumps up the crowd to a warmly-recieved old friend.

The treat in hearing these shows is also two-fold. There’s the way that familiar tunes get adapted to the setting: “It’s The End of the World...” is transformed into a Friday night Americana hoe-down, while “The One I Love” is slowed down to a gritty lament with a slightly varied vocal melody. After the 2nd chorus and an instrumental bridge in “Country Feedback,” Stipe folds lines from Dylan's “Like A Rolling Stone” into the tune, a goosebump-inspiring moment.

Then there’s the added benefit of songs that I’d once slept on revealing their power in the live arrangements. The 2001 show closes with several tracks from Reveal, and free of all electronic touches, the choruses of “Disappear” and “Beat A Drum,” well, revealed themselves to me, becoming new earworms and spawning a personal reevaluation of the album. “Find The River” had once been a pleasant-enough closer on Automatic For The People, but a step down from the iconic “Nightswimming” that precedes it. Now it’s a new favorite, and I’m prone to singing it loud with embarrassing over-earnestness.

With the band truly well and dissolved (and no cynical cash-grab “reunion tours” planned, those damn jerks and their integrity), the repackaging of older material is the only avenue left for unheard R.E.M. music. The studio albums are greeting their landmark anniversaries with special editions: Automatic’s 25th was recently celebrated with various configurations of physical release, including one with a disc of demos and a 5.1 surround sound Blu-ray that I WILL possess one day, damnit! Just this week, their social media team announced a sprawling set of BBC sessions and interviews, hopefully to be made available on streaming services in addition to the fancy 9-disc set (I know, sacrilege in my blog about physical media, but space is at a premium and I haven’t even COVERED the live DVDs and music video collections I already have of these guys).

There’s even a podcast exclusively about the band! The exceedingly silly interplay between Scott Aukerman and Adam Scott was enough to get me to listen to several eps of their previous U2-centric show (a band that I’m fairly positive towards), so "R U Talkin’ R.E.M. RE: ME?,” in which they go album-by-album through the discography, was appointment listening from the jump. I couldn’t help but sprinkle inside jokes from the podcast into my first entry. Fuckin’ stoked!

It’s hard to articulate how much R.E.M.’s music has meant to me. There’s undeniable power in finding art when you’re young and unsteady. To ally yourself with a favorite band, especially one that clearly creates from a place of conscience and empathy, is to find a solid stone floor that supports you when you’re at your most weighted down. It’s easy for me to hold onto nearly 2 dozen discs because there’s so much variety. They could uplift, interrogate the status quo, offer humor or succor or an outlet for the uncertainty we struggle with. Michael Stipe sang about identity, queerness, nature, hypocrisy, anger, tenderness, artists, politicians, outsiders, expressive freedom, and quiet contemplation. These lyrics came from what he saw and felt but they were conjured by the instrumentals constructed by Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and for years Bill Berry. Jangle-rock or country-western or chamber pop or folk or glam or electronica— they busted through genres with grace and power; immutability was not an option. They couldn’t finish a record until Michael had the words; Michael had their blueprint on tape to fill his ears until the images flowed.

“Here’s a little agit for the never believer / Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah / Here’s a little ghost for the offering,” Stipe sang in his 11th hour, one-take performance of “Man On The Moon.” Now I offer a 20-song Document of the R.E.M. songs that mean the most to me at this moment. It nearly killed me to whittle it down, and your favorite probably isn’t on it. The song I just quoted isn’t even on it! But that’s the power of R.E.M., where the subjective experience rules all.

#R.E.M.#michael stipe #peter buck #Mike Mills #Accelerate #collapse into now #unplugged #mtv unplugged #man on the moon #album cover #cd #cd collection #music blog #rock #alternative #pop #album art

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watusichris · 7 years

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Replacements, 1st Time Around

In 1983, the Replacements hit Los Angeles for the first time. I followed them around for a week or two. This story, from the Dec. 2, 1983 issue of the Los Angeles Reader, is being posted in acknowledgement of the band’s splendid live album “For Sale,” which is being released on Friday by Rhino and is utterly tremendous. ********** During a Midwestern winter, when the seasonal temperatures gravitate toward the arctic, a rock ‘n’ roll band has to play hard just to stay warm. Judging from the rather limp records that emanate from the region, there are a lot of frozen butts in the heart of the nation. Midwestern rock hasn’t had much to offer since the garage-band heyday of Chicago’s Shadows of Knight and Minneapolis’ Litter, besides the pre-punk spasms of the MC5 and the Stooges.

Last week, though, a Minneapolis band pulled through L.A. and proved that there’s no energy crisis in their particular basement. The Replacements knocked out four superior sets of go-for-the-throat rock ‘n’ roll in the local clubs. I’ll borrow one of their song-title catch phrases: Color me impressed.

The Replacements have been together since 1979. They’ve released three records’ worth of original material (two albums and an EP) that could blow Violent Femme Gordon Gano’s precious little gonads from here to Maine. After hearing them on vinyl and in concert, there’s no doubt as to who the true Kings of the Great White North are.

The records, all on the Twin Cities-based Twin/Tone label, are all raw, unmanicured productions that opt for scurvy power rather than flat professionalism. Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, the debut album released in 1981, is a sort of song cycle of 18 tunes about cruising, partying, romance, dope, drunkenness, and the other senseless pursuits of adolescent Midwesterners. Its 1982 follow-up, The Replacements Stink, is a harder, louder eight-song EP that refines the first record’s sound into a murderous ball-peen screech. The latest LP, Hootenanny, is a lovably sloppy, diversely programmed collection incorporating blues, country, and folk elements hitherto unheard on the group’s recordings.

The great virtue of the Replacements’ records is a charming insouciance about polish, cleanliness, subtlety, taste, and other non-rock ‘n’ roll concerns. The band comes on like a disarming juvenile trash compacting of the pre-’66 Rolling Stones, the New York Dolls, the Stooges, the Sex Pistols, and the Ramones. Crudity, humor (much of it self-deprecating), velocity, and high volume are the hallmarks of the Replacements’ style. The Dolls are their most obvious role model: The ear-scraping abandon of Bob Stinson’s guitar recalls Johnny Thunders at his most frenetic, and vocalist Paul Westerberg’s drunken, hoarse warbling is comparable to the caterwauling of the pre-solo David Johansen.

Westerberg writes the lion’s share of the band’s material, and it is largely terrific stuff. He’s at his best when confronting the trials of Everykid, whether goofing off at the bus stop (“Hangin’ Downtown”), lusting after the girl who works at the corner store (“Customer’), lamenting the necessities of lower education (“Fuck School”), or confronting the idiocies of average teenage social behavior (“I Bought a Headache” and “Color Me Impressed”).

Though many of the numbers are smash ‘n’ snarl thrashers, there’s enough variety in the Replacements’ sound to keep them out of sticky-floored identipunk corners. Many of Westerberg’s most effective and affecting compositions are ballads – “Johnny’s Gonna Die” (a premature elegy for the graveyard-bound Johnny Thunders, on Sorry Ma), “Go” (on Stink), and “Willpower” (on Hootenanny). The group also shows an increasing affinity for inebriated blues and boogie; the standard mode of Midwestern barroom bashing is utilized to ironic effect in “White and Lazy” (which sounds remarkably like the Dolls’ boozy remake of Bo Diddley’s “Pills”) and “Take Me Down to the Hospital.” Westerberg is also reportedly a prolific writer of folkish solo material: This side of his style is reflected on record in the non-LP B side “If Only You were Lonely” and the caustic, basement-tapey self lampoon “Treatment Bound,” which concludes Hootenanny: “We’re getting’ noplace as fast as we can/We get a nose full from our so-called friends.”

This daffy catalog of styles, as well as some wonderfully blatant cops (everything from the Dragnet theme to “Frere Jacques,” “Oh Darling,” and “The Twist”), combines with Westerberg’s nose-thumbing take on dumb youth angst and the band’s flat-out, heated performance methodology to make for rock ‘n’ roll that is alert, aware, pointed, and funny. On their records (and I wouldn’t part with any one of them), the Replacments are unbeatable. Onstage, even when approaching the boundary line of chaos, they’re among the most special of live bands.

I don’t know where you suckers were last week, but the Replacements shows in L.A. were without exception under-attended. Well, you blew it, chumps, and don’t let it happen next time. This is a band that can knock you out of your Nikes even on the slowest and worst of nights, and they shouldn’t be missed.

Visually, they’re an unprepossessing lot. Paul Westerberg is an emaciated rail who looks like he rolled out of bed just before the gig; his sole concession to onstage fashion is some poorly applied eye makeup, which just emphasizes the beatness of his wardrobe (faded flannels and T-shirts and well-worn jeans) and the comatosity of his appearance. His face is perpetually creased by a knowing smirk; like Popeye, he speaks and sings out of the corner of his mouth.

Guitarist Bob Stinson is the group’s fashion plate: He usually plays in a polka-dotted skirt, or in his jockey shorts. The pocket of his blue denim jacket holds his toothbrush. His brother Tommy, the group’s bassist, and drummer Chris Mars are little babyfaces (the junior Stinson joined the group when he was 12). For all his youthful appearance, Mars possess a deadpan wit: Shortly after Kristine McKenna pegged him as a Yale student in the Times, Mars showed up on the Music Machine stage wearing a T-shirt hand-lettered in Magic Marker with “YAIL UNIVERSITY.”

“Loose” is a term that can be used to describe a typical Replacements set. Some songs do not so much end as break down in a clatter of drums and a squawk of feedback. Westerberg and the young Stinson are often to be found in conversation during a guitar solo. Blown key changes occur with regularity. The band is frankly casual about its performance demeanor. At the Music Machine last Wednesday, Tommy Stinson leaned over in midtune to grab a beer, and his bass immediately came both unplugged and unstrapped; he unhurriedly refitted himself, in time to pluck the last two notes of the song.

This is definitely a group who hold to their professed sub-professional standing (“The label wants a hit/But we don’t give a shit,” they sing in “Treatment Bound”), but their carelessness and blithe disregard for even the basics of showmanship never interfere with the impact of the show.

They heave their way through a set at eardrum-crushing volume, with Westerberg, his vocal cords ready to snap at any moment, screaming to be heard over the din. Bob Stinson’s Fender spits out withering clusters of spike-toned notes, underpinned by Westerberg’s brutishly loud rhythm guitar. And Tommy Stinson and Mars provide a relentless backup. As wiggy as the band can get, its musicianship is generally of the highest caliber.

They provide more than a few laughs, too. They’ll switch instruments to play the title track from Hootenanny. They’ll rock out on “The Marine Corps Hymn,” essay Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’” or T. Rex’s “Twentieth Century Boy,” or perform a country-and-western version of their “God Damn Job” (lyric: “I need a god damn job/I need a god damn job/God damn it/God damn it/God damn/ I need a god damn job”).

I got hooked on the Replacements’ energy and sharp-incisored humor at Club Lingerie two weeks ago, where, looking a bit singed from the road, they wowed some of the assembled waxworks with a ragged but involving set. I wound up following the group around town during the next few days. They did a sizzling marathon hour-and-a-quarter show at the Cathay de Grande on Monday night, and a tough, nutty, erratic one at the Music Machine on Wednesday.

Musically, they were at low ebb at their return Cathay engagement on Thanksgiving, but that set may have been the most revealing of all. The house was filled with Mohawked dolts panting for Social Distortion. The Replacements, who could easily have mowed their audience down with a show comprising their short, fierce, hardcore-styled tunes, instead opted for the opposite tack. They began the show with the blues shuffle “White and Lazy” and made their alienating way through every ballad, country tune, and slow number in their repertoire. The leftover turkeys in the crowd were gobbling as the set oozed its way to a conclusion, but it was the Replacements who were having the last laugh on the fashion-conscious ex-surfers in leather. As Tommy Stinson said in mock admiration, “Wow, punk rockers.”

Remember when punk rockers gave their audiences the raspberry (or worse), disassembled rigid expectations, and guffawed at the status quo? At the Cathay on Turkey Day, the Replacements proved something besides the fact that they are a great rock ‘n’ roll band. They proved that they may just be the last real punk band in America. Come back soon, guys – there are some other folks in this sleepy town who could use some waking- and wising-up.

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runawayfridays · 7 years

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The WINGS Tour in Manila

By Jen

Episode III: The Wings Tour in Manila Day 2, happened on May 7th of 2017, the day when BTS snatched my wig with their live performances. AGAIN. It’s almost 2 months now since they stopped here in the Philippines for their tour, and every time I see updates from their tour in every country they went to, I can’t help myself but to reminisce and go back to that day through looking at the photos and fancams I took at the concert.

I still remember, with arms both raised up high, army bomb on the left and phone on the right. I screamed my lungs out as Bangtan heat up the MOA Arena once again. I guess, if that day wasn’t really that special, I don’t think I’d still be able to write this fanaccount up until now. Well, that’s PCD (Post Concert Depression) for the longest time. Seeing them live for the 3rd time didn’t make that concert experience less exciting. In fact, I was more hyped to see them again that time. Maybe because they happened to be here on my birthday. And another reason would be because I was blessed to be picked for the pulp royalty, giving me the privilege to attend the sound check and see them practice their songs and interact with us, ARMYs, in their casual clothes. Though, my PR experience would be a lot more exciting if I could just take Rej and Erika with me and be in the same section as well. Too bad, I can just hope that we can share this experience again together next time.

So, going back to The Wings Tour in Manila Day 2, here’s how my concert experience went..(according to how I still remember, LOL) Though birthday presents are usually wrapped in colorful gift wrappers and some were with big ribbons, mine came in dashing outfits and cool hairstyles. And I couldn’t ask for more. I swear they all looked so good. I mean, yes I saw them already before but it was all different this time.

THE SOUND CHECK

After the long wait at the PR strapping, our battle preparation(A.K.A stuffing our tummies with food),sending me off at the gate entrance, lining up at the lobby and meeting new friends(Hi Princess, Christine, Lauren, and Karla!), it is finally time to see BTS! We were assisted to enter one side of the arena and locate the best spot for the activity.

Then, it started. My eyes were so full I didn’t know who to focus on as they come out one by one, but Namjoon took my attention with his flashy neon colored hoodie that he later on posted on their twitter account as his Kim Daily entry. He was so cute wearing that beanie and flashing his deep dimples. It was so deep I could fill it with water and dive in there.

The first song they sang was Baepsae, and I immediately missed Erika coz this was our jam. So, with her in mind, I jammed and danced to Baepsae not minding other people around me. But then my attention was caught by a very good looking, even in his bare-face, Kim Seokjin, wearing an oversized hoodie. And, I must say, the word HANDSOME was written in bold-capital letters all over his face.

The second song was Dope, and again, I jammed all the way as the boys are roaming around the stage meeting their ARMYs from different sides. I still remember, it was his part when Min Yoongi went in front of us. Wearing a black cap, black shirt and black pants, his milky white skin is glowing and it's so blinding. On the other hand, Jeon Jungkook in specs and oversized white shirt was so manly yet adorable. And I can't help myself to squeal. But then, Park Jimin came to my side just as I was singing and dancing. He was as if memorizing every face in front of him. He just can’t stop staring at us. So, I stared back and tried to lock eyes with him but he's just so sexy in those black sunglasses, making me throw him lots of hearts in different forms.

Talking about sexy, did I already mention Kim Taehyung being so sexy, even while wearing a face mask, in a beret, dark blue long sleeved shirt and his favorite red pants? I still remember the way he just stood there in front of me, and wiggled his eyebrows. I swear, that was the sexiest thing he did that night. The memory was still clear to me until now. And of course how can I also forget how manly and sexy Jung Hoseok in specs, black cap, black shirt and black shorts? I think that was the longest jhooope I ever screamed. He's just so ughhh.

The last song they rehearsed was 21st Century Girls, and again I missed my girls outside and wished I could dance with them as well, but at least my new found friends are there to join me dance to the song while raising our hands up. If I could just take a photo to share this to Erika and Rej but too bad, phones weren’t allowed inside. Although three songs weren’t enough to feed us, ARMYs, it is enough to make us more hyped for the concert itself. Wooo~

EPISODE III: THE WINGS TOUR

After the sound check we were given a quick break to catch our breaths, take a pic with our new found friends, drink some water, go to the rest room and ready ourselves to be blown away again by BTS. But of course, I also used this quick break to call my girls and share my feels and check if they were already lining up outside. It was so quick that the next thing I knew was that I was already inside the arena again, clinging onto that barrier and gawking at how close I was at the stage. Never mind the pushing and tight space, what's important for me that time was that I.AM.SO.CLOSE.

As the arena is being filled with ARMYs, my excitement rises until the lights were all out signaling the start of the show. And everyone, including me, were screaming and waving our hands and light sticks. This was the moment we've all been waiting for. So I sent a quick text to Erika and Rej saying how close I was and to enjoy the show.

So, dim the lights, play intro VCR, music cue, and drop the white curtain… Not Today, Am I Wrong, Baepsae, Dope

The white curtain falls just as Namjoon deliver his lines from Not Today, and everyone inside the arena went wild joining Bangtan in saying the line Chong, Jeojun, Balsa! This song was really perfect for the opening act. It definitely hyped up my soul. After a quick ment, welcoming the ARMYs, Not Today was then followed by Am I Wrong, Baepsae and Dope. And, I just cant with the feels!

After heating up the stage with powerful choreographies, they proceeded with their solo stages...

BEGIN The solo stages started with the golden maknae impressing all the ARMYs with his footwork and vocals in his own song Begin. I wasn’t really expecting that they prepared a choreo for this song. Just listening to Jungkook delivering the lyrics to this song is already something, but seeing him sing and dance to this song is totally a package I cannot complain and refuse.

LIE Next up is sexy mochi Jimin, performing his song Lie while oozing with sexiness. He dances gracefully even while wearing a blindfold. I was surprised that he even managed to add a lifting in his choreo!

FIRST LOVE Then the piano appears, a sign that it is Yoongi’s turn. His stage is really amazing, just him on the piano doing his thing, rapping his swag out of his heart and piercing through mine.

REFLECTION I still remember how Namjoon pointed his mic to us, ARMYs, while performing his song Reflection just so he could let us shout “Kim Namjoon! Saranghae!”. It was so loud that it really echoes inside the whole arena.

STIGMA Just as RapMon exits through the telephone booth propped at the stage, Kim Taehyung comes out so manly in a glittery coat and sings his self-written song, Stigma. In front of the mic stand, he belted out his most awaited high note. For this song, I just had to stay still to listen to him reach that high note and I was not disappointed. Also, it just made his stage even sexier with that black and white effect on the screen. HIS OVERALL PERFORMANCE WAS JUST SO SEXY!

MAMA For Hoseok’s stage, I, again, screamed the longest jhooope I ever screamed v2.0. I really enjoyed J-hope’s stage for MAMA. With, those back-up dancers accompanying him on the extended stage, he led the whole crowd in singing, dancing and clapping to the a Capella part of his song. I really got goosebumps when I thought he was gonna cry in that part but instead, he flashed his proud smile. And with his baby pictures flashing on the big LED screen, he ended his stage with me having a big bright smile on my face.😃

AWAKE Jin, being the last to perform his solo track, didn’t also disappoint the many ARMYs, including me of course, who sang passionately with him. Just like him, his stage is a true definition of beauty. And that high note with so much emotions while he was being lifted as if he was gonna spread his wings and fly, with glitter-like confetti falling from the ceiling, was the highlight of his performance. I almost asked myself if that is how heaven looked like.

For The Wings Tour, BTS didn’t only prepared solo stages, they also came armed with unit stages that most of the ARMYs looked forward to witness…

LOST The first unit to showcase their prepared performance was the Vocal Line. Jin, Jimin, V, and Jungkook went up the stage to perform their song Lost. Surprised by the choreography, I found myself literally lost in that moment while absorbing every lyrics of the song. I’ve been wanting to see them perform this song live, and now that all that I have was the memory of me shouting out the words of the song, which is the same exact words I really do wanted to shout to the whole world, all that I can do was to wish to go back to that moment and get lost again.

CYPHER PT.4 How could I even forget the unit stage of our Rap Line, Rap Monster, Suga, and J-Hope? Cypher pt.4 was my most awaited performance that night. Dressed in those fancy robes and sunglasses, they didn’t failed to hyped me up with their performance. It was so lit! I was jumping while shouting the lines “Sorry Bae!” and tried to rap with them. Oh, how I wish I was able to bop to this song with Erika and Rej.

Other than the unit stages, Bangtan also performed ARMYs’ all-time-favorite hits…

I NEED U, SAVE ME, FIRE These three songs with killer dance routine is definitely a must watch in their concert. When I Need U started to play, I suddenly felt emotional while remembering the time they sang this as their last song for their Epilogue concert. It was the exact same song from a year ago, but with different feels and a new memory. (TRIVIA: I Need U is BTS’s first win on a music show and they won this on the exact date of my birthday.) And, if someone would ask me to list BTS’s best choreographies for their songs, Save Me would be a permanent on my list. J-hope’s “Whoop whoop!” part would always be my favorite. Talking about best choreographies, Fire, would also be in my list. They just took synchronicity, energy and coolness to a whole new level! Defining the lines, “Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot! Hotter!”, they literally burned me with feels that night.

THE MEDLEY (N.O., NO MORE DREAM, BOY IN LUV, DANGER, RUN) Hot, sexy, and wild. Yes, those were the right words to describe this stage. I never knew I needed a medley and a live band version of these songs until that night. I just lost it all when they huddled up at the center and bounce to the intro of N.O.

The crowd went wild when they started to go in different directions. I still remember how Taehyung walked coolly to our side, my heart started beating so fast and I was already trying to catch my breath. I started to panic more when all the members came one after the other. They were just being so rude the whole performance, body rolling, hip thrusting and body waving in front of us. And, I am so lucky to be so close and experience all of that first hand.

The song switched then to No More Dream, and the screaming just got louder. I froze on my spot with my jaw hanging wide open when I realize how close I was to them. So close, that I could actually see the color of Hoseok’s contacts and his sharp jaw that cuts through my soul. I could even poke Jimin’s cheeks if would reach onto him. It was so fluffy, I thought I was gonnna die! And, how could I even forget Jungkook nailing his rap part in this song while bopping with full energy? Gosh, he looked so hot. The chorus came as well as Rapmon went to our side, proving his dancing skills, while doing the “La La Lalala” part while holding his mic up in the air with a satisfied smile on his face.

It just got hotter when they gathered up at the center and started dancing to Boy In Luv, the fanchants were so loud, and the lines “Wae nae mameul heundeuneun gondae..” was ringing in my ears. It went on like this just as the song changed to Danger. And finally, the last song for this medley, Run. They all started running around the stage and jumping in excitement. I was still in awe and couldn’t believe that they were really in front of me. And, that’s when Jin came with a bottled water in his hand and started showering us. The fact that I felt that cold water sprinkling on my face, proved that everything is really happening. I got back to my senses when gold confetti blasted up in the air signaling the end of this segment. It wouldn’t be called The Wings Tour if they won’t perform the hottest songs from their WINGS album so…

21ST CENTURY GIRL, BOY MEETS EVIL, BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS Excitement rushed through my body when I heard 21st Century Girl started to play. This song is really my jam. The choreo was so sexy yet cute and adorable. And, with Taehyung at the center, I started to grin from ear to ear as I watched the dance break part.😁

After having fun with that song, the lights went off and the spotlight was suddenly on J-Hope. And, he started to dance to his Intro: Boy Meets Evil. I wasn’t able to stop myself from joining him do a body wave while singing the lines “Too bad..But it’s too sweet..” They continued on to perform Blood, Sweat and Tears. And, I got goosebumps all over my body. Band versions would always be the best. And, of course, the super sexy choreo that I just witnessed that night could not be easily erased from my memory.

Of course, they weren’t just dancing and singing all through out the concert. There were VCRs prepared for the ARMYs. There’s this one VCR that really stood out. It was supposed to be the supplementary story of this whole trilogy. The VCR that would end all the theories and confusions of every ARMY. But, how could anyone try to concentrate in watching when they’re, first, so handsome in that VCR. And, second, when it was translated to Filipino? I swear, I wasn’t able to understand a single thing coz I find it so hilarious!

It wasn’t just the VCR that is in Filipino, even in their talks/ments, all the members tried communicating to Philippine ARMYs in Filipino. I can’t stop laughing while listening to Taehyung asking us the questions, in his robot-like accent, “Ang bilis ng oras diba? Sana hindi na matapos itong concert na ito. Kayo din ba? Kayo din ba? Kayo din ba? Maraming salamat sa pagpunta. Mahal ko kayo.” How could I also forget the derp faces he did in front of the camera?😂 Suga, on the other hand, translated his oh so famous line “Kkaepjjang” to Filipino, saying PH ARMYs were “Magaling!” while doing a thumbs up. Being the cheesy maknae he is, Jungkook, told us that “Gusto ko lagi tayo magkasama”. And me, being the sentimental fan, went all “awww” after he stated those lines. Meanwhile, I still remember how Jimin made me cringe when he asked us if we liked their performance and when we answered yes, he quickly added the question “talaga ba?” with that cute smile. I just wanted to squish him at that moment! The cheesiness and cringing didn’t just stopped there, it continued on when Jin suddenly shouted “gigil nyo si akooo!”, while holding up a paper, he kept in his pocket, with the words Mahal kita♡ Beaming with excitement, J-Hope declared “ARMY ang aming pakpak”, emphasizing the word Pakpak, in which made the crowd answer, Ganern Ganern. And that is the history of J-Hope’s PakGanern ft. PH ARMYs. And lastly, Namjoon ended the talk by saying, “Maraming salamat sa pagpunta, magkita tayo muli.” That last line played over and over again in my head. That was the only thing I needed to hear, that they’ll be back and we’ll see each other again.

Though I never wanted that night to end, there’s nothing I could do but to just enjoy the last few moments I could still see them live and up close...

OUTRO: WINGS Just as the words FLY HIGH PHILIPPINES ARMY lit up at the stage, Outro:Wings started to play. And, one by one, the members came out in those cute striped long sleeves. They wander around the stage again but this time with a soft and light feeling. It’s as if they’re gonna take me to cloud-nine. And, they actually did. It was Taehyung again who came first to our spot, body waving from side to side, looking so cute in that beret. Oh, I live for Tae’s eyebrows. Then, Jimin came and a little VMin moment happened. But, being the rude Jimin he is, he bent down in front of me and leaned in really really close as if he was teasing me. I swear, I almost dropped everything when he did that and I was already in panic mode. It didn’t do me any good when he left coz after that, Jungkook came flashing me those bunny smiles. And he did the same thing Jimin did. He bent down as well and pointed his mic to us. He was so close! The next thing I knew, my whole body was shaking and I can’t control my trembling hands. Imagine being flocked by the maknae line one at a time! Good thing it was time for their little fun time and they started doing dorky dance steps in the middle just before J-hope do his rap part. And when the chorus came, they started running again. Suga came to our side and I saw his breath-taking gummy smile. Jin came as well while blowing kisses to everyone. I was really flying so high for having such a good time and for having a fancam that, I think, would haunt me for the rest of my life.

2! 3! HOPING FOR MORE BETTER DAYS Okay, now I’m emotional. I’ve been imagining how would it felt like singing this song at their concert, with the other ARMYs and with Bangtan, of course. And this is how I felt, it was so soothing. It’s as if all the things I worry would be gone soon. It was really a great song they did for ARMYs. They always made me feel loved and understood.

SPRING DAY 봄날 Spring Day, the last song for their concert, The Wings Tour. I told myself not to cry and get too emotional when they perform this but I can’t help it. Every word they spoke just hits me and I’m drowning. It was so beautiful hearing the ARMYs sing for bangtan as they take their bows and thank everyone for coming and doing great while the confetti was falling from the ceiling. It was a fantastic experience. I already missed BTS just as they were disappearing one by one on the stage. The concert has ended and I was still standing there beside the barrier when suddenly a VCR played again. I liked that they always have this behind the scene preparation video with the credits every after their concert. It helps me believe that everything I witnessed was real and not a dream, as they even remember to add “Our WINGS, ARMY” to their long thank you list.

After the concert, I got reunited with Erika and Rej. We were all smiling so widely, though I knew we all wished we were together. The experience would be a lot more enjoyable. I also got to see my friend, Kaisha, and her sister, Ayel, with their cousin, outside. And we just can’t get over with the feels. It was truly a whole new experience for me and BTS. And, guess who’s the happiest birthday girl ever? 🙋 It was definitely the best and most memorable birthday I ever had! Everything was so worth it. See you again, Bangtan!

#jen #bts #concert #fanaccount #wings tour

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imagine-loki · 7 years

Text

The Black Bunny

TITLE: The Black Bunny

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Part One AUTHOR: goddessofmischief ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine if Loki accidentally turned himself into a bunny through some sort of magical mishap, and, not being able to properly care for himself, he kind of awkwardly nibbles on things and writes out what happened with the shreddings.

RATING: T

NOTES: I could not resist writing this short, yet sweet, story, as I thought the idea of Bunny Loki was downright adorable. Full of fluff, and very silly (compared to the more serious fics I write). Also, it’s just in time for Easter! haha ♥︎ It is loosely based off of the imagine above and there will be two parts, hope you enjoy!

Part One

It was a Monday, and I was running late… again. I hurried to the subway, but I had then discovered that I left my metro card at home and by the time I bought another card, the train that I usually took to get me to work on time was long gone. Today was already not my day.

I lived in a tiny apartment all the way downtown, near Battery Park, and it took me awhile to get to my office in Midtown: my office being the one directly besides the infamous Stark Tower - and yes, my words are dripping with sarcasm.

Ever since the huge attack on New York, which occurred over a year ago, I was not the biggest fan of the Avengers, despite how they actually saved the city from being blown up, and also prevented a psychotic man from reigning over the entire world. It was only my luck that the company in which I worked for was situated right next to a building that would only attract further trouble and mayhem.

I exited the subway at 42nd street and hastily made my way to my office, passing by Bryant Park and impassively regarding the way in which it began to rain. I let out a sigh as I opened up my umbrella, as it was truly turning out to be a terrible day already. But then, I heard something. My ears perked up at a peculiar noise that I could hear above the footsteps and low murmurs of the morning rush hour crowd. I stopped and looked in the direction of the shrubs that surrounded the park, a large man bumping into me as I did so and calling me out on it: “Must you stop in the middle of the sidewalk, little girl?!” On other days, I would have turned around and not let him get away with ridiculing me, especially in regards to my size, for I had enough of that at work. But my attention was already fixated on the soft whimpers that were emitting from a nearby rose bush that could only be accessed from within the park. I changed my route completely and headed to the nearest stairs that entered into the park, and retraced the distance I had gone to find the approximate bush where I had heard the heart wrenching noises of an animal that was either all alone and frightened in the big city, or injured.

I clicked my tongue lightly and kneeled onto the ground. “Won’t you come out?” I then reached into my bag and took out a container of spinach and other greens, as well as carrots, that I intended to have for lunch. I looked over my shoulder and saw that I caught the attention of various passerby’s, who wore bewildered expressions on their faces. I doubted that they never before witnessed a young girl, kneeling on the muddy ground, talking and holding out a piece of spinach to nobody in particular, on their daily morning commute. But then again, it was New York, and perhaps it had happened before.

But as I was looking away, a small black bunny had come out of the rosebush and hopped over, greedily eating the spinach out of my hands. It wasn’t until I heard the soft sounds of the animal chewing that I turned back around. “Oh, hello there, little fella.” I said with a smile. The black bunny’s bright green eyes blinked and he tilted his head slightly, observing me closely. “Would you like some more? I have carrots too.” To this statement, the bunny nodded. I thought this was rather strange, for it seemed like the bunny had fully understood my words. Instead, I pondered over whether it was a wild rabbit, but this was highly unlikely for Bryant Park. Central Park, on the other hand, was a more plausible source of small, wild animals. It must have gotten away from it’s previous owner and was now all alone in a big city. Poor thing. I fed it more spinach, and some carrots, as it hopped closer to me and sat under my umbrella. Then, unexpectedly, it hopped up into my lap and settled comfortably on top of it. “Oh, b-but you see… I must be going. I have to go to work. I’m already late.” I said. It gazed up at me with a saddened expression that tugged at my heart. Why did I have to be such an animal lover? I sighed and patted the bunny’s head affectionately. “I guess I can call out sick… again.” It then purred in response to my words, and I again had the strange sensation that it fully comprehended what I was saying.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my office, only to be met with a panicky HR woman on the other side of the receiver. I told her that I wouldn’t be able to make it in, but she immediately said that I was the only smart one for not doing so. She urged me to stay home. “Why? I asked, perplexed at her urgency. “They have just announced that the entire city is on lockdown.” She said briskly, hanging up before I could question her more. Strangely enough, right after she said this, deafening alarms began to sound throughout the streets and everyone was now running throughout them, trying to get away from the impending danger - whatever that might be. I picked up the bunny in my arms and hurried back to the subway station, which, to my good fortune, was still running. I just hoped that it wouldn’t break down midway towards my journey back to the southern tip of the city. I was able to catch an express train to South Ferry Station. I wrapped the bunny underneath my wool coat and held it close to my chest as the subway continued its journey downtown. With a sigh of relief, I got out of the station and hastened to my apartment. Once inside, I set the black bunny down onto the floor and ran to my TV to put on the news. I immediately sat down as a sense of dread overwhelmed me. On the screen was a large picture of a man, smiling wickedly, with silky, raven black hair, a golden horned helmet and otherworldly armor. In his hand was a large glowing scepter. It must have been one of the pictures that had been taken of him in the midst of the battle that he had ensued on New York over a year ago, for a few members of his alien army could be seen behind him, and the entire street was destroyed and filled with rubble. Below his picture read: Loki Laufeyson has escaped from Stark Tower. New York City is now on a citywide lockdown.

I felt something nudging my feet, and I looked down at the curious black bunny. “Well it looks like we may be stuck in this apartment for quite some time, little fella. It’s a good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday - and that I especially stocked up on lettuce, fruits and vegetables for you.” I giggled, even though I was still frightened by the thought of having that madman on the loose again. “I hope we will both be safe.” I whispered as I picked the bunny up and placed it back onto my lap. I had thought that bunnies didn’t like to be touched, but this one didn’t seem to mind. “I should name you! But I am not entirely sure of your gender. You seem to be a male…” I scratched behind its large ears as it studied me, and then I noticed that it was faintly nodding again. “Wait, do you understand me?” It, he, nodded again. I gasped. “Oh my goodness. Well, I guess your previous owner somehow trained you to understand the human language.” After I said this however, I furrowed my brows and bit my lip at how bizarre this actually seemed, but I soon thought nothing more of it. “But back to your name. I think I shall name you… Cornelius. A scholarly name for an intelligent little bunny. What do you think?” The bunny nodded with approval and then jumped playfully into my arms. I chuckled as I cradled him and rubbed his stomach. “I’ve never had a pet before, but I promise I’ll take good care of you. My name is Emma, by the way.” I confided my name to him, solely because of how clever he appeared to be, and that I was glad to have a pet around.

It had continued to rain for the rest of the day, and I was extremely grateful that one of my neighbors down the hall, who owned many different pets, kindly lent me a litter box and hay. She had also given me some advice in regards to caring for rabbits.

“You see, Cornelius, I don’t really have the best of luck with making friends.” I admitted to my new pet while I tucked myself under my floral duvet. I had taken it upon myself to unfold to the bunny all of my troubles, especially those in regards to work. Cornelius seemed attentive, which only served to encourage me to divulge more things about myself. “People find me rather, uh, peculiar. But, I guess I am.” I let out a drowsy laugh. It was already dark outside and I was quite exhausted, so I shut off the lights and said goodnight to the bunny. I wished for nothing more than to fall asleep to the gentle raindrops hitting my windows, but I found that I was restless since the sirens would occasionally come back on in full force. “Ughhh.” I groaned, without opening my eyes. “Curse the Avengers for disrupting my sleep!” I then realized that there was a weight on my neck and chest, that had not been there when I had initially dozed off. I opened my eyes and met the green eyes of Cornelius, which seemed to be the brightest entity of the dimly lit room. He wiggled his nose at me adorably. “Oh, hey, Cornelius.” The bunny answered me with humming noise and began to nibble my neck. I giggled wildly, as this, and his whiskers, delicately tickled my neck. I cuddled him more closely and rubbed his ears. “If only these sirens would stop.” I murmured, as I closed my eyes and desperately tried to drift off to sleep again. “Do you know your ears feel like velvet, little fella?” I whispered, practically asleep.

❧

When I awoke the next morning, I turned on the television in my room and found that the city was still on lockdown. They showed video footage of the Avengers searching through deserted, yet undisturbed, streets. It seemed that no battles had erupted overnight, which made me relieved. So instead, I became concerned about another matter: Cornelius was no longer on my bed, nor in my bedroom. “Cornelius, where have you gone?” I called out, not leaving my bed just yet. Then, rather unexpectedly, the black bunny jumped up into my bed and began hopping wildly about. “You seem quite happy this morning, little fella. What exactly have you been up to?” He came closer and settled down in front of me. He seemed eager about something, and looked in the direction of the door. “I hope you haven’t made a mess out there.” The bunny replied by wiggling its nose before jumping back off my bed and hurrying outside. I followed the small animal uneasily, for I was unsure of what type of trouble I would find. What I did find caused me to gasp loudly. Scattered about my kitchen floor was all bits of yesterday’s Times, which had been carefully laid out to read: “MORNING, EM” “What in the world…?” I whispered in awe, before turning to the bunny who sat besides his creation rather proudly. I raised a brow quizzically. “Who exactly was your past owner?”

After breakfast, and after I assembled the shreds of paper into a small pile so Cornelius would be able to reuse them, I became incredibly bored. Cornelius sat on my lap as we watched the news, only to hear the same story over and over again: Loki Laufeyson was still on the loose and that it was still unsafe to venture outside. They continuously would either show images of city streets with policemen scattered about, helicopter footage from above the city, or various images of the criminal himself, which made me cringe. “Any suggestions to what we could do, little fella?” I turned to the observant bunny at my side. He nodded before bouncing off into my bedroom. I ran to follow him, but he had disappeared from my sight completely.”Do you want to play hide and seek?” I perceived a low purring from below and found that Cornelius had sprung into a chest, which was filled with small teddy bear outfits that belonged to my older brother’s 4 year old daughter Margaret. I kept them here for when she came to visit me, which was regularly. “Oh, would you like to play dress up then?” Cornelius answered this by digging deeper into the chest and pulling out on costume in particular: a mini sailor uniform. “Guess you’d like to start off with that one, huh?” Cornelius nodded quite vigorously and I chuckled at how this situation was becoming even more bizarre.

I proceeded to dress up Cornelius in different costumes, such as a doctor, policeman, firefighter and even a tuxedo Mickey Mouse costume (which he especially liked). The bunny, however, would not touch the Captain America nor Hulk costume that was mixed into the bin and every time I held them up to try to persuade him, Cornelius would growl at me. I hadn’t even been sure that rabbits could make such sounds of disapproval… “Alright, alright. I guess we both aren’t overly fond of the Avengers.”

He ended up wanting to try on most of the outfits in the bin, and each time he had on a new costume, I would take a picture with my phone. And the weird thing was that Cornelius would seem to pose for me. Given that I had nothing better to do, as I was confined to my apartment, I actually relished in this childish activity. Once we were done, the small bunny insisted on keeping a green ribbon, from one of the costumes, tied into a bow around his neck. I had over thirty pictures of Cornelius now and looked through them while exclaiming how adorable he looked. An appealing idea came to mind, and I laughed out loud over how silly it was for a woman at age twenty-one to even concoct such a thought. “Oh, Cornelius,” I said in between laughing. “I think you’re going to be Insta-famous!”

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concussed-to-pieces · 7 years

Text

Kitten; Epilogue

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Jon Moxley[Dean Ambrose]/Unnamed OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Thirst Party Crew, welcome to our epilogue! Tagging the amazing @tox-moxley, the awe-inspiring @oraclegazes, and our brave captain on this voyage, @hardcorewwetrash. Enjoy!

It wasn’t as if he had forgotten. More like that time was over. He was a free man, freer than he’d ever been in his life. And as he headed to the gorilla position backstage, body jittering with nerves and excitement, he knew that she was waiting for him at ringside. Like she always had. Like she would continue to do, hopefully for the rest of their lives.

A wave of emotion seared Mox’s throat and he quickly rubbed at his eyes. A large fist tapped the back of his shoulder gently. “How you doing, Uce?” Roman asked, his smile tight with his own nerves. “You’ve got this man. It’s all you.”

“It’s kinda’ gotta’ be, man. Ya’ ain’t exactly gonna’ fit under the ring in all your fuckin’ gear.” Jon grinned. “Hell of a secret fuckin’ weapon you’d make though.”

Roman laughed, pulling him in for a headbutt and squeezing his forearm comfortingly. “You’ll do just fine.”

“I wish…shit, I wish Callihan coulda’ made it.” Jon admitted quietly. “He always dreamed of headin’ to somethin’ like this, the two of us whippin’ ass in a legitimate fuckin' promotion.”

“There’s always next year, Uce.”

Jon was startled by the conviction in Roman’s voice. “Y’ really think I’m gonna’ be around? Damn, you’ll make me fuckin’ cry Reigns.”

“I know you’ll be around, man. Bet you’ll even have a belt. Nice shiny one for your waist. I’ve dealt with Lesnar before, though. Be careful and you’ll come out on top. Barring any unforeseen sneaky bastards cashing in on you, of course.” Roman said ruefully.

“'Careful’ ain’t really in my vocabulary, Reigns.” Jon knew that the ‘tough guy’ act wasn’t necessary around Roman, but it was a difficult habit to break.

Reigns rolled his eyes at him. “It is now, Uce. Just think about all the progress you lose if you’re out injured. Remember that and it’ll help.” Roman’s smile was knowing. “Think about her.”

“Every second I ain’t with her, Reigns.”

Roman squeezed his arm again, bringing him in for another headbutt. “Stay safe out there. We’re rooting for you.”

…

The crowd roared deafeningly loud when his music hit.

Jon found himself awestruck, just turning in place on the entrance ramp for a minute to take it all in. Hundreds, thousands of people. Screaming for him. Losing their fucking minds, absolutely going ballistic. For him! Street dog, lunatic, underfed, scrappy, mean-spirited and never-say-fucking-die Jon goddamn Moxley.

Wrestlemania.

This was a once in a lifetime moment and he wished with all his goddamn heart that Callihan could be here to witness it in person, be part of it, instead of watching from home.

“You go the fuck on, Mox. Get ya’ shit together, get in there an’ beat some fuckin’ ass.” Sami had encouraged him before he left the CZ warehouse for the final time, giving him a hard wallop on the back. “Don’t forget us little people when ya’ up there at the top with some fancy fuckin’ belt, got it? I’ll be cheerin’ for ya’. Fucker.”

Moxley knew why they had chosen him to play with Brock. He could take a beating, could land on his neck and roll through it to stand again and again. Lesnar wasn’t known for being careful or even remotely respectful, a fact that Jon was made painfully aware of once Brock and Paul Heyman made their way to the ring.

Lesnar leaned over the barricade, practically nose to nose with Kitten while Jon stood in the ring, his fists clenched. Mox just had to hope Kitten didn't panic.

“I’ll kill him.” The large man sneered, gesturing up at the ring.

To her credit, she smiled back at him and coolly replied, “You can try.”

Jon had worked with a lot of the men in the locker room, earned respect through discipline. He’d done time all over the world with all kinds of promotions, fought his way up through FCW, NXT into the big roster, and here he was on the grandest stage of them all against the one guy who would do everything in his power to fuck him up. Life sure was strange. Really, the only thing he could count on Brock doing was botching a perfectly good Shooting Star Press. Other than that all bets were off.

Brock didn’t want a good match, he wanted an easy match. A squash. Knowing that they had this fight, Jon had thrown idea after idea at Heyman for great spots (some more ludicrous than others, granted), but Lesnar had no interest in any of them. Anything that involved him not giving Mox as many suplexes as he could wasn't a big seller. And so Jon went into the fight, took two good ones and sandbagged the third. When Lesnar refused to let him go he went limp, forcing Brock to heft his full weight unassisted.

“What the fuck are you doing, asshole?” Brock snarled in his ear.

“Givin’ these people what they fuckin’ came here for.” Jon snapped, digging his elbow back into Brock’s stomach. “You ain’t gonna’ sell anythin’ I hit ya’ with, so now my gloves are fuckin’ off. Ya’ fake ass-” Brock’s large, gloved hand all but covered his face and Mox bit down on the padding over his knuckles. Lesnar grunted, releasing Jon as he tried to pull free.

Jon ground his teeth together, momentarily biting hard enough to make his jaw ache before letting go and rolling out of reach. “Nice try, ya’ fuckin’ gorilla.” He rasped, wagging his finger at Brock, who at this point was obviously incensed. “You want an easy fuckin’ match, go get fuckin’ Cena or some shit. Right now though, big man, it’s you an’ me. Ya’ ain’t exactly been receptive t’ my fuckin’ ideas. Know what that means?” Moxley murmured, tapping the side of his head. “Means I gotta’ get fuckin’ creative. I beat guys with fluorescent light bulb tubes. I’ve played in enough concertina wire t’ keep a maximum security prison cozy. I’m hard an’ bitter an’ built of fuckin’ hate, Lesnar. Ain’t some motherfucker who wanted to play with the fuckin’ MMA big kids.” He stood to his full height, glaring at the larger man.

“You really want to do this now?” Brock asked incredulously, gesturing at the arena around them.

“Oh sweetheart, I will do this all day an' fuckin' night if it gets a better match out of ya' fuckin' lazy ass.” Jon growled. He slid out of the ring, flipped the apron banner up out of the way and started rummaging. Mick Foley and Terry Funk (Mick fucking Foley and Terry goddamn Funk, Jesus Christ) had given him some presents and he aimed to use that shit. When he looked back up, Brock had yanked his left glove off and was working on his right, a savage grin firmly in place on his face. Moxley knew he should be scared. Should be intimidated. But he couldn't help the thrill that raced through his body.

This is what he wanted, this was why he'd agreed to this match. The arena lit the fuck up when he hoisted Mick's bat high over his head and then mouthed over the side of it like some kind of nutcase, like he used to do to the girls they sent in to him. He swore he could hear Kitten screaming along with the crowd, 'get him Mox!' With Barbie in his hands he rolled back under the ropes.

And stopped dead as a chainsaw revved to life.

The crowd lost their fucking minds all over again.

Sami! The mad bastard had scrambled out from beneath the ring on the opposite side and was currently standing tall on the announce table, Terry Funk's thankfully-chainless gift rumbling in his black-taped hands. He slashed wildly at the air, the grin on his face unable to be described as anything but shit-eating. He’d gotten a new black coat somewhere along the way, purple studs and accents matching Mox’s florid entrance vest.

The Switchblade Conspiracy rides again.

Jon thought his face was going to crack from how hard he was smiling. “Call'han!” He hollered, pointing with Barbie. “Getcha' ass in here, we got a Beast t' kill!”

…

Kitten hugged Callihan tightly when they returned up the ramp, wiping her eyes. “You did great! Did you hear them cheering for you guys?” She was practically bouncing in place, looking absolutely thrilled. Jon couldn't handle it when she looked like that and proceeded to kiss the breath out of her lungs.

It had blown his mind when he had paused for a second and realized the crowd was chanting Switchblade Conspiracy, not Suplex City, and Moxley had almost lost his shit. Almost.

Sami's laugh was shaky and he patted Mox on the shoulder, seeming suspiciously close to tears. “Shit yeah I did. S' fuckin' mindblowin'.”

Jon didn't let go of Kitten, just caught Callihan with his other arm and dragged him in to butt heads. “Y' little shit, had that crap all planned out an' fuckin' everythin'.” He rasped. “I kept thinkin' all fuckin' week, damn Callihan woulda' liked that or shit I wish Sami was here t' see an' then ya' just showed up, goddamn neat as y' fuckin' please. Fucker.”

“I couldn't fuckin' believe it m'self when I had Triple fuckin' H callin' me on my fuckin' cellphone, Mox.” Sami admitted, grinning again. “I only jus' signed t' NXT, figured I'd keep it a s'prise f' ya' ass. Instead, Wrestle-fuckin'-mania.”

“Hell of a surprise.” Jon said quietly as Brock and Heyman stormed through the curtain.

“Moxley! You've got some nerve, you little punk!” Paul raged, his face crimson. “My client-”

“Ya' client knows better now.” Mox interrupted, a nasty smile twisting his mouth. He bared his teeth. “Jus' be thankful I didn't take a fuckin' chunk wi' me, Heyman.”

Brock's huge hand landed on the top of Jon's head and the former MMA fighter proceeded to give him the world's most brutal noogie. “Don't try it again, shithead.” He grunted, words a little hard to get out due to how swollen his face was. Jon and Barbie had paid him back in spades for the suplexes he had pulled off. “Got lucky today, I'll give you that. Scrappy fuck. We'll be in touch.”

Jon's tongue poked out from between his teeth as he smirked up at Lesnar. Kitten all but plastered herself to his side, fingers digging into his ribs as he and Callihan stared Lesnar down. “Lookin' forward t' it, Magilla.” Jon said finally. Brock released him, giving him a smirk of his own before turning and limping away.

“Whoo, I dunno' how y' fuckin' do that shit.” Sami exhaled loudly once Lesnar and Heyman had turned the corner. “I feel like I need t' piss m'self every time th' guy looks at me.” He slapped his forehead suddenly. “Shit! I almos' f'got. Drake...y' 'member Drake Younger? He's one of our fuckin' referees now. In NXT. It's so fuckin' funny, man, he said t' say h--”

Jon grabbed Sami around the waist and hoisted him up in the air, ignoring the shake of his overused muscles as Callihan squawked indignantly. “Callihan y' little shit, don't change th' fuckin' subject! We jus' beat Brock fuckin' Lesnar, at fuckin' Wrestlemania!” Mox yelled, shaking his partner. “Holy fuckin’ shit!”

Callihan laughed harder than Jon remembered him laughing in years, wrapping his arms around Mox’s head and crushing his face into his chest. “Shit yeah!” He crowed.

Kitten’s hands settled on Jon’s hips from behind, gentle kisses landing on his shoulder blades.

Not a bad first try, for Wrestle-fucking-mania.

…

She was voracious that night, her normal worry about his bruises apparently pushed aside as she pounced on him. She tore at his tank top, the little noises in the back of her throat driving Mox crazy enough to flip her over and pin her to the hotel bed. She had dressed in Wrestlemania finest, a slinky purple number (she had informed him it was actually lilac) that matched his entrance vest and collar. Explicit MOX Violence, spelled out across his back in an obnoxiously bright shade of purple. As much as he loved the dress on her, he loved sliding it off of her a thousand times more so he could spread her thighs and eat her out until she screamed.

Kitten was soaked, grinding against his face and chanting his name under her breath already. It hit Jon hard that he was so completely, inescapably, hopelessly in love and he had to fight the urge to pull back. The match had been hours ago and he was still pinging with adrenaline, emotions running hot and close to the surface. “Love you.” He finally said quietly, kissing her thigh. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”

“Jon…” She was fucking quaking under his mouth, legs draped over his shoulders. He could feel her thighs shuddering in time with his motions, see the way her belly heaved as she panted for breath, whimpering and writhing and coming undone for him, for him.

“Kitten, Kitten.” Jon felt fucking reverent, like this was a moment that he should savor. So he did. He did again, and again, and fucking again, until his jaw was sore, until she was pulling at his collar and sobbing for him because it was too much, too much, need you. She refused to let him go, her hand clenched around his collar and hips rocking against his own as she dragged him up to her mouth for a hungry kiss.

Mox went willingly. Who was he to deny her a taste of herself?

“Fuck me please, please, please.” It wasn't a question this time, it was a demand. She was still the only one he'd ever been with that had asked so damn nice, though.

“Anythin' for you, Kitten.”

Deja vu washed over Jon and it was as if everything faded away, like they were back in the CZ warehouse with her spread out beneath him for the first time. The first slow stroke of his cock burying itself in her was enough to make them both moan, Mox pressing their foreheads together and kissing her fiercely. “'Unno if y' remember.” He began hesitantly, biting his lip and then rolling his hips to set the pace for her. “I was waitin' f' them t' send the girls in, an' instead it was you that came into the ring. All fuckin' shaky, flinchin' every damn time I moved.”

“You were crouched in the corner with that old collar around your neck. Ch-chained up.” Of course she remembered. She had to pause then, filling the gap with a breathy groan when Jon bottomed out in her. “I was just so tired of getting hit all the time.” She continued, barely a whisper.

“M' gonna' be grateful f' the rest of my fuckin' life that you decided t' step closer.” Jon admitted, smoothing the hair away from her forehead. “Grateful that I'm the one wakin' up next t' you, I'm the one who gets t' touch ya' like this.” His voice threatened to die right there, but he soldiered on. “I jus' love y' so fuckin' much, Kitten.”

“I love you too, Jon. You did so good.” She praised, her fingers running through his unruly hair. “I'm so proud of you.”

Jon didn't duck away, didn't brush her off. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist and fucked her harder, his pelvis crushing warmly into the apex of her thighs. Words failed him and all he could do was bury his face in her neck, quietly growling as her grip on his collar tightened and her legs rose to wrap around his hips. He mouthed over her shoulder, over her collarbone, his hand sliding between their bodies to stroke her clit.

“Kitten m' gonna' come, gonna' come, come f' me please, please please-” He begged, doing everything that he could to keep from tumbling over the edge before she did. Kitten's teeth dug into his shoulder and Mox shivered when she cried out as she came, her noise muffled by his skin. She bit down harder and that was it for Jon, his forehead dropping to the junction of her neck and shoulder while he spilled into her with a satisfied snarl.

Her fingers were in his hair, her breath sighing out with his face buried in her neck. He had done it. They had done it. Who knew what the future held from this moment on? Maybe a title run, maybe Sami would get shot up to the main roster. One thing he was fairly certain of was that the long, hungry nights were far behind.

The future was terrifyingly bright for someone like him.

He’d honestly expected to die pretty young, but he kind of just...kept going. Every birthday that passed was a semi-pleasant surprise, every time he woke up in a puddle of his own blood with Callihan pulling him back to his feet a tally-mark on the list of 'Not Fucking Yet'. He hadn't known what he was continuing for, really. Food, a place to stay. Surviving at its finest.

He hadn’t expected to fall in love. Hadn’t expected her to make everything better just by offering her love in return for whatever pitiful affection he could muster up. His life without her would be an absolute shit show and he knew that with a bone-deep conviction.

Jon had never gotten over just how fucking lucky he was. How incredibly fucking easy it might have been for her to never come back, or for him to forget about her entirely after that first night of taking her apart with his mouth.

“Promise, no bitin’. Good Behavior.”

“Can I stay here tonight? Please?”

“Jon?” She asked softly, sounding a little worried. Her fingers fidgeted with his collar. “Are you alright? God, I should have made sure you were okay before getting all greedy, I'm so sor--”

Moxley tried to reassure her by kissing her hard, but he ruined it because he was still panting for breath. She started to laugh, peppering his face all over with kisses while he grunted in annoyance. “Fuck’s sake Kitten, m’ fine. Probably won’t feel any of th’ bumps til’ t’morrow anyhow.” He mumbled, shoving a hand beneath the small of her back and arching her up into him again. “Mm, fuck. Kitten, love y’ so damn fuckin’ much.”

“I love you too, Jon.” She replied, cupping his jaw. “More than anything in the world.” She squirmed a little underneath him, getting comfortable and draping her arms over his shoulders. “Where to from here, oh Slayer Of Beasts?” She asked teasingly, hips shifting against his own.

“I dunno’, really. Never thought I’d get this far.” Jon admitted. “Kinda’ excitin’, huh?”

“Maybe a little too exciting.” She said, her tone dry.

Ever his beautiful, practical Kitten. Jon snorted. “I’ll talk t’ the boss. See where I’m goin’, whether this was a one-off or what. I feel like they wouldn’t have brought in Call’han if they weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ my ass in the picture.” She nodded in agreement, stifling a yawn. Jon’s eyes softened and he kissed her gently. “Sleep, Kitten. Y’ had a busy fuckin’ day.” He smoothed the hair back from her face, off her forehead. “Only good shit from here on.”

“Promise?” She murmured, seeming already half-asleep.

“Promise.” Moxley said softly.

Good Kitten.

Post-script AN: I would like to thank you all for joining me on this endeavor. However much or little you liked this story, I'm so glad I got to share it with you. I'd like to thank the Thirst Party crew and Mox Hoe Club, every one of you (especially you Tox!), because you motivated me to write every week as far as Thirst Party Saturday goes, and continue this story in general as far as the MHC goes. An extra special thanks goes out to hardcorewwetrash, naturally, forebear of the Thirst Party!

Thank you all for your time. Thank you all for your consideration of my tale. Most importantly, thank you all for enjoying. I'll see you real soon.

#jon moxley smut #jon moxley #Jon Moxley/OFC #thirst party saturday #Wrestling #enjoy!#i got so weepy writing this #god I'm a sap #because wrestlemania should have been better #because you deserve it

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acesonuckles · 7 years

Text

Or Something pt. 1

[Sonic and Knuckles discover something very interesting about their hands... Soulmate AU.]

When Knuckles was born, he had a set path in life. He was the Guardian, the sole descendent of his species, and he was alone. Being alone was good—it was all he knew. It was serenity and peace and duty and self-worth. He never intended on heading down to the surface, but then fate intervened and he was plunged into a world he barely knew.

And then, he met Sonic.

Sonic, on the other hand, was the definition of an uncontrollable variable. He spent most of his life zone hopping, seeing the world, making hundreds of friends but no real companions. In a way, he was alone too—alone in the middle of a crowd, on edge with a charismatic smile, never quite connecting with anyone. He would have continued on his path indefinitely if it weren’t for a sense of duty and an egg shaped megalomaniac.

And that was how he met Knuckles.

They had been best friends since they were ten and eleven years old. They fought a bit, spent a lot of their free time together—treasure hunting, sightseeing, exploring—and stopped Eggman at every turn. Eventually, they became known as a sort of team: speed and strength, red and blue, snark and deadpan. Their team grew with the addition of Amy and her hammer, Silver and Blaze with their respective –kinesis, the Chaotix and their... teamwork. Their lives fell into a sort of routine in a way: spar, tease, travel, let Amy bail them out when they got up to their necks in trouble, stop Eggman, repeat.

Their lives would have continued at this pace if not for that one fateful sparring session. They were on the Island, bouncing around the Master Emerald, when Knuckles accidentally grazed Sonic’s arm a touch too closely. His claw sliced down his arm, all the way to his hand, where he shredded his glove. Sonic cried out and fell back, hissing, as crimson bubbled in rivulets down his limb. Knuckles, for his part, was immediately abashed, but he didn’t show it and merely stomped after him and gruffly yanked his arm up to get a good look.

“It’s only a flesh wound, you big baby.”

“I’ve got to get to a hospital!” Sonic demanded, and Knuckles couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “Who knows what kind of diseases live on your hands!”

Okay, so he was going to be fine. Knuckles rolled his eyes and pulled his arm harder. “Wait, I think you might be right. Come with me. We need to burn the wound out.”

Sonic’s eyes widened comically and he tried to struggle, but Knuckles was stronger. It was a fact of life, one that even the fastest thing alive couldn’t run from. “No! C’mon man! This isn’t funny!” He twisted, trying to slip out of his grip, and Knuckles only held on tighter, pulling Sonic’s arm up to give him less leverage.

The mark took him by surprise, even though he should have been expecting it. Soul mate marks were common on mobius, a holdover from a time when meaningful bonds meant survival and offspring, but almost everyone forgot they existed. The advent of gloves had allowed them to forget, had allowed people to live with the freedom to choose and experiment, but there was a story every now and then about a pair with matching marks. It was more common than Knuckles previously assumed living up on the Island, when the small emerald tattoo tucked into the crook of his thumb was an empty promise of companionship. His was a life of solitude; he never expected to find a match.

Especially in his bonehead friend.

“Hey, Knuckles! Mobius to Knuckles! You’re cutting off my circulation!” Knuckles blinked as Sonic’s voice brought him back and he immediately dropped the hedgehog’s arm like it was on fire. “Jeeze, what’s with you? You just up and froze out of nowhere! You take up palm reading or something?”

Knuckles shook his head hollowly, mechanically removing his own glove. He held it up, fingers spread, and saw Sonic’s brow furrow, body bent a bit to get a better look. His mouth dropped open, eyes swiveling to stare at Knuckles, baffled, confused, subdued, shocked all at once.

“Chaos,” he muttered, “we’re screwed.”

The first thing they did was fight, a full blown argument that turned into a knock down drag out. They hadn’t fought like this in years, and Knuckles wasn’t sure how it started, but suddenly he was flying through the air, an imprint of Sonic’s shoe in his stomach, lip freely bleeding, arms and legs cut up from a roll through the underbrush. Sonic didn’t look much better, more black than blue, seven shades beat right out of him. His arm was still bleeding, but he didn’t seem to care as he zipped around and kicked Knuckles around like a football.

In the end, they found themselves heaving for breath on the ground, bruised and battered. Sonic was a ball of red and blue, blood sticking his fur together, and Knuckles wasn’t much better, though his wounds were less obvious.

“The first thing we did as a couple is fight,” Sonic said into the stony silence, making Knuckles groan.

“Shut up. Shut up. Don’t. No.”

“You know,” Knuckles turned to look at the hedgehog because he didn’t recognize that tone of voice. The hedgehog was holding his hand up above his head, sun painting his face with broad streaks of gold, eyes trained on the little emerald etched into his palm, “this might not be so bad.”

Knuckles groaned again. “Yes it is. I can’t be with someone who fights like you. Who taught you to punch, a dragonfly?”

Sonic’s arm dropped and he rolled over to look at the echidna, loopy smile on his face. “At least I can kick. I bet you were always picked last for kickball.”

Knuckles shifted uncomfortably. “I never played kickball.”

Sonic blinked and then looked properly ashamed. “Oh, Chaos, I’m sorry Knux.”

“Don’t. It’s not like I regret it or anything. Without me, we’d all be dead.”

“Tell me how you really feel.”

“You’re useless, hedgehog.”

“Ouch, go on.”

“You’re brash and rude and too full of yourself.”

“But you love me.”

“But I l— Wait.” Knuckles choked off, pinning Sonic with a glare. “And you play these word games.”

“I’m a bit too quick-witted for you.”

“Your mouth is gonna get you killed one day,” Knuckles replied grimly. “And I’m gonna be the one who does it.”

“Only you, dear.” Sonic sighed and rolled over, arm draped over his head. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not living up here.”

Later, they huddled around a small fire, just off to the side of the Master Emerald dais. Sonic had his knees pulled into his chest, chin resting on the caps, expression blankly exhausted. The wind ghosted across Knuckles’ face, spirits stroking his cheek, helping him stay calm. The Master Emerald pulsed behind him, a warm, steady presence, and he took a deep breath.

“We don’t have to do this,” Sonic muttered into the silence, staring into the flames, hand tracing the pale lines on his palm. Knuckles had offered him one of his extra gloves, which garnered a wry smile, refusal, and a quip: ‘already sharing house and home?’ But Knuckles knew better; Sonic didn’t want to impose on him. The Guardian only had so many personal possessions and Sonic didn’t want to take something he couldn’t really afford to give.

Knuckles didn’t know how to read people, but he could read Sonic. It used to be that he thought it was because they spent so much time together, but now... Now he wasn’t so sure.

“We can just pretend we didn’t see,” Sonic continued when Knuckles didn’t say anything. “Just keep going how we’ve been going.”

Sonic was good at that—going and going and ignoring change. But Knuckles could sense something else just there, charging the air. Sonic gazed at him, eyes reflecting the flames, and Knuckles was struck with how lonely he looked.

“There’s an ancient story about two people from rival tribes,” Knuckles began, drawing a confused and wide expression from Sonic. “Most of it is lost to time, but there’s enough. They met one day in the forest and discovered their matching marks. They were filled with hope and joy, not only because they found their match, but also because this would hopefully break the feud. They went to their parents, but the elders of the tribes didn’t want to hear anything of matching marks. They forbid them from seeing each other.”

Sonic was riveted now. His face was properly disgusted at the idea of illegal happiness, as if he were personally being controlled. “Please tell me they didn’t listen.”

Knuckles sighed. “Of course they didn’t. And it got them killed.”

Sonic’s mouth dropped open. “Killed? Knux, this story sucks.”

“Would you— Listen, they ran away, and they lived for years on their own. They were incredibly happy. But then their tribes found them and they were executed for deserting and disobeying a direct order from the chief.”

Sonic snorted, an angry short sound. “Still sucks. If you were trying to let me down easy, you could’ve just said ‘nah, Sonic, we’ll just pretend this didn’t happen’ and then punched me. That would’ve been more enjoyable.”

“Sonic, let me finish. The pair kept journals and the tribes studied them, tried to figure out what made them want to hide from their families and friends, and they eventually realized where they screwed up. They got over their feud, and there was peace after that. Families formed based off marks and love, between the tribes and beyond.”

“So... They died, but they changed the world. No offense, but that story sounds like a terrible human movie.”

“It’s an ancient story passed down by my people,” Knuckles gritted out.

Sonic opened his mouth to reply, no doubt with snark, but then seemed to second guess himself. He paused, jaw slightly clenched. “That’s the first time you ever told me anything about your people.”

Knuckles grunted and shrugged. “If we’re gonna be sharing a life or some crap, might as well get started.”

Sonic stiffened. “You want to do this then? Like I said, we don’t have to.”

“I should be asking you. I’m stuck here with the Island. You’re the one who likes to run around.”

Sonic grimaced. “Yeah, but I can’t explain it... I’ve grown up with that mark on my finger, and I figured I would never act on it, but once I saw yours... I just... I don’t know. It felt right.”

“It was a commonly accepted theory that soul mate marks were a gift from Chaos,” Knuckles recited as if he were reading from a book. “My people said that Chaos designed each of us and paired us up accordingly.”

“And what about the people who don’t have marks?”

Knuckles rolled his eyes. Trust Sonic to find something to refute him. “Each person is complete on their own. Not everyone can be paired up. Single people are just as necessary as pairs.”

Sonic propped his head up on his knuckles, elbows sinking into his legs. “So, we’re designed for each other, huh?”

“Get those bedroom eyes off your face. You know that there’s no way in hell—”

“Chill, Knucklehead, you’re my best friend, but I’ll never date you, let alone let you anywhere near my mouth...”

Knuckles shuddered. “At least we agree on one thing.”

Amy, of course, was delighted. She was silent for a long pause after they told her, sitting in a booth in restaurant because they didn’t want to get the pulp beaten out of them, long enough for Sonic to start to fidget. (Which, Knuckles reflected, wasn’t very long at all. Sonic had a serious issue with sitting still, and it was starting to drive him up the wall.)

Then, she threw her head back and laughed, a loud, barking sound that drew every eye in the restaurant.

“Amy, please,” Sonic tried, hands rising, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“I can’t believe this! You two?! Oh my Chaos! This is the best day ever! Wait!” She broke off with a gasp, eyes lighting up. Her hands slammed down on the table, jostling the plates and glasses, making the hero of mobius practically jump into Knuckles’s lap. “You have to let me plan your wedding!”

Weddings and marriage were archaic traditions that were usually reserved only for the most romantic of pairs. Since soul mate marks didn’t always show up on quote-unquote ‘couples,’ and were actually more pre-disposed to more platonic pairs (evolution had learned that romantic-sexual pairings were unstable and trying to start a life with someone you lusted after wasn’t very effective, especially when the lust wore off and jealousy rose to take its place), such as siblings or best friends, soul marked people didn’t have to go through all the hoops of marriage. They just marched right up to a registry, showed their marks, declared their intentions to start a life together (most marked pairs always did; the fight wasn’t worth it), and that was that.

It was incredible, Knuckles thought to himself as he and Sonic loitered in front of the registry building, how two people could meet, latch on to one another, and find out years later that they were marked. It was pointless to resist really, especially since they had been getting along so well for three years now. It was almost a relief, to know that Sonic was his match. At least he could stand him, most of the time.

“So, I’ll be in charge of the finances,” Sonic remarked as they finally got up the courage to go through the doors.

“You’re funny,” Knuckles grated, trying to decide just how hard he would have to hit the hedgehog to knock some sense into him.

“And you don’t have any money, cloud hermit. At least I have a bank account.”

He had a point, but Sonic didn’t strike him as the most frugal. Then again, he didn’t own much either, when Knuckles thought about it. A few pairs of shoes, gloves, and socks, and that was about it.

“I want a house on the water,” Sonic continued, breaking Knuckles’ concentration.

“You can’t swim.”

“Yeah, but I can appreciate the ocean, you know. It’s pretty, in an oh-chaos-that-could-kill-me kinda way.”

“You are the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

Sonic shrugged. “Not that hard, considering you only know like six people.”

Knuckles sighed but was far too tired to fight him. “Mystic Ruins.”

“Huh?”

“Mystic Ruins. Build a house there. There’s a place for the Island. Ocean.”

Sonic gave Knuckles a heavy look that the echidna couldn’t read. “You’ve got this all figured out.”

“Simple problem solving. It’s the best place for both of us.”

The look was here to stay. “So you’re not gonna spend all your time on the Island?”

“I will if you keep annoying me with pointless questions.” That came out a little rougher than Knuckles intended, but Sonic only smiled, a wide, face-splitting thing that made Knuckles blink.

“Got it.” He gave Knuckles a thumbs up and turned to the counter. “Let’s go rock these poor government types!”

#sonuckles #sonic #knuckles #amy #or something #ashe #writing

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ofstagsanddoes · 7 years

Note

celebrity au in which they have a very very public rivalry which involves twitter rants, fandom wars, tabloid articles stirring etc. until they're photographed holding hands and the internet has a meltdown

Okay so literally months ago (I’m awful), I was challenged with this prompt for the @jilychallenge coordinated by @hmionegrangr and my partner was @lamelylimes (who wrote me this glorious piece you can check out here). Needless to say, college work got away from me and I didn’t finish the piece on time BUT I did promise to finish it, so finish it I did. (Albeit very, very late. I hope you enjoy it).

October 17th was the day they officially broke the Internet.

To be fair, the rivalry had started out as just that- a rivalry. She was competitive, and he was arrogant and that had lead to a fair amount of interweb war mongering.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial Wow. I just love when I’ve beaten @quidditchjames’ offensive record but women still get paid half as much as men.

James Potter @quidditchjames wow i just love when my records are beat by flukes

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial Numbers don’t lie, babe.

James Potter @quidditchjames listen. we’re gonna play a match against each other and then we’ll see who’s the real record holder

James Potter @quidditchjames we’ll even do it for charity- all proceeds going to @witchesandwizardsforequality

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial It’s on like Donkey Kong.

James Potter @quidditchjames i’m going to pretend i got that reference

And so it was determined; the match would be played and the rivalry would be settled. But of course that wasn’t the end of it.

THE DAILY PROPHET GABS, GOSSIP, AND GLAMOUR: STARS BANTER LEADS TO CHARITY MATCH

19/10/1979

Has James Potter waved his wand over the wrong spellbook?

The nineteen year old player for Puddlemere United has had a long time rivalry with fellow chaser Lily Evans of the Wimbourne Wasps. Interestingly, the two played together during their time at Hogwarts; Evans started the sport in her seventh year, with Potter (captain at the time) teaching her the ropes. The boy, like most of the world, wasn’t expecting what was in store for Evans, however, as she came out of nowhere to score a spot on one of the most competitive teams in the nation. Evans has gone on to become one of the best players in the sport, inciting a rivalry between the two former teammates.

Recently, the teen broke Potter’s offensive record, sparking a debate on Twitter between the two about who was the better player. The pair also discussed how women Quidditch players are often payed less than their male counter parts despite, as this new record proves, their comparable skill level. This led to the two starlets deciding to play a charity match where the proceeds will go towards Witches and Wizards for Equality- a foundation which promotes the equal pay of all genders.

The Twitter banter has lead many to speculate on the two’s romantic prospects- could we be witnessing a super couple in the making? The pair doesn’t seem to think so, however, as seen in Evans’ tweet from Tuesday:

Jacob Throne @jakeythrone @lilyevansofficial behind all this banter are we seeing a romance budding between you and @quidditchjames?

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial @jakeythrone I wouldn’t keep your hopes up, buttercup.

IQBS.COM: INTERNATIONAL QUIDDITCH BROADCASTING STATION LIVE STREAMING AND ONLINE ANNOUNCER TRANSCRIPT

Marcie Bendenberg: Well, Wendy, this isn’t something you see every day.

Wendy Lawrence: No, Marcie, it certainly isn’t, and that’s why so many members of the wizarding community have tuned in to watch today’s matchup between two of Quidditch’s hottest young chasers, Lily Evans of the Wimbourne Wasps and James Potter of Puddlemere United.

M: Yes, the two actually got in an argument on Twitter over who was the better player and agreed to play a match to settle it once and for all. All proceeds sold from tickets are to go charity, and it looks as though we’ve got a sold out crowd here.

W: It’ll certainly be an interesting match to watch, and for our viewers at home it’s important to note that this will not be a regular game of Quidditch. Instead, the pair will play each other one on one for five minutes, seeing who can score the most goals within that time period. What do you think of this matchup, Marcie?

M: Well, you know that I’ve always been an Evans fan- she’s a straight, no nonsense type of player that get’s the job done, but I will say that she’s got her work cut out for her. They both have that drive, that same innate level of talent, (and I think we can both agree the same competitive edge), but Potter plays with a sparkle that’s unparalleled in the sport as of now and that could bite Evans in the butt.

W: Then again, where he’s flashy she’s blunt and to the point, and I think that is oftentimes more effective.

M: Very true as well, I suppose we’re soon to see how it all plays out as the pair takes the field.

W: I’d like to take a moment to thank our sponsors for this match: Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion: “Two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet.” Sparkbucks: “The only way Wizards drink coffee.” and our charity for this event, Witches and Wizards for Equality.

M: Let’s play some Quidditch!

W: And, right off the bat Potter has the quaffle and is streaking towards the goal but…oh, that had to hurt, Evans knocks him hard in the shoulder and he drops the ball into her waiting hands.

M: And you know, she’s able to push him around so much in the air not because she is heavier than him, but because of the broom Potter flies on. Although the Nimbus Three Sixty is an exceptionally fast broom, it is lacking in the defensive departments. On her Comet 1000, Evans has a greater balance of speed and power, and this evens up the playing field greatly.

W: We’re seeing a lot of back and forth here, neither making much progress towards either set of hoops. Is this what you expected?

M: Honestly, we’re seeing some great Quidditch right here. You get this matchup between two of the best players in the nation and of course you’re going to have some what of a standstill. Now, eventually that standstill will break and-

W: Evans gets out of the tussle and heads towards those golden hoops. She chucks the quaffle towards the right one and…SCORES! Evans-10 Potter-0

M: Uh oh, though. It seems as if this has ignited a fire under Potter; he’s playing with more vigor than before!

W: Yes, this is definitely the player we’re used to seeing. Showy, but singleminded. He and Evans are diving and weaving around each other now, and it almost seems as though they’re…yelling at each other instead of playing Quidditch. That’s a new one.

M: Certainly. Especially as the clock shows that there are only sixty seconds left in the match; Potter needs to score!

W: Oh! But instead it is Evans who emerges from the altercation with the quaffle! And she’s racing towards the goal posts, Potter right on her tail. She’s got her work cut out for her, because, yes, Potter’s beaten her there, but will he pick the correct goal post to block? She chucks the quaffle and Potter’s diving and OH!

M: The quaffle careens into Potter’s head, sending him off course and crashing into one of the goal posts. That’s not good. He looks unconscious right now, the Mediwizards are flying onto the field.

W: But the quaffle did go in, and the score stands Evans-20 Potter-0, and this certainly- oh…oh my.

M: That was…unexpected.

W (laughing): Love does come to us in the most surprising of ways, doesn’t it? That’s all from us here at IQBS, we hope you enjoyed the brief commentary of the match. [Still giggling] Signing off for now.

THE DAILY PROPHET GABS, GOSSIP, AND GLAMOUR: YOUNG LOVE ON AND OFF THE PITCH

30/10/1979

On Friday night, all eyes were tuned to James Potter and Lily Evans as they played a Quidditch match to decide the better player. One expected to see a great game between the two exceptional players, which they got. The two young chasers battled so fiercely that only twenty points were scored in the five minute time allotment; both of those shots belonging to Evans.

However, the unexpected part of the evening was not the Qudditch playing itself, but rather the events that transpired afterwards.

During the last shot of the game, a rogue quaffle hit Potter in the head, causing him to crash into one of the goalposts and be knocked unconscious. Evans, instead of pausing to take in her game-winning shot, let out a yell and streaked down to catch Potter in her arms before the Mediwizards were able to get to him. An uncharacteristic show of affection between the two rivals? Perhaps. But even more surprising is what occurred next.

As the Mediwizards lowered him down to the ground and set about examining him, Evans was crying and crying, talking about how she hadn’t meant to hurt him and how he was such an idiot for trying to defend a goal so close to the posts and hadn’t he always told her that was foolish? The Mediwizards got him revived and all, and as soon as that boy opened his eyes Evans planted a big old kiss right on his lips.

Naturally, the internet has blown up at the idea of two such promising stars (and aforementioned rivals) falling in love, but there has been no word from either as Evans travelled with Potter to St. Mungo’s for further examination. With #lilypotter trending now on Twitter, who knew Quidditch could get so saucy?

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial James is fine; he has concussion but is expected to make a full recovery in time for Puddlemere’s next match.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial He wants everyone to know that he��s grateful for all the well wishes and he loves you all dearly.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial Also, he concedes that I am once and for all the better player.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial I’m being forced to reveal that he never said that and never will admit that.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial (Even though it’s correct.)

Jamie Bowler @jamieb23 @lilyevansofficial WHAT’S UP WITH THE KISS????

Suzy Pemby @suzy.q1 @lilyevansofficial the kiss???? what did it mean???

Marcie Bendenberg @marciebendenberg.official Honestly. We’ve got to know.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial What can I say.

Lily Evans @lilyevansofficial The boy has beautiful lips.

#lily evans #james potter #fanfic #jily #my writing #lamelylimes #jilychallenge #woooot

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joneswilliam72 · 5 years

Text

A conversation with Kid Vishis: “It’s just gotta be dope. I just feel like if it’s dope, if it’s truthful, then it won’t be denied.”

The history of hip-hop cannot be written without delving into Detroit. Even without Eminem changing the game, you still have the likes of Slum Village, Obie Trice, Big Sean, Danny Brown, and Royce da 5'9" making their mark. Kid Vishis, younger brother of Royce, has proven himself as one of Motown’s most potent MCs. Today, we’re premiering his new single and video: ‘The Return Of The Mack’ (no, not that one). We also talked to him about his thoughts on his home city, the current state of hip-hop, and the surprising ages of him and his older brother.

****

What have you been working on? I know you have the new music/the new song out, ‘Return of the Mack’.

Yeah, I’ve been working on a full album, man. Besides that, just working. My brother’s got a project that he’s working on, so I’m featuring on that. He had me write a million verses for his album. We’ve been trying to put together a project ourselves called the Montgomery Boys. Yeah man, it’s just a bunch of work, work, work, work, and I’m also working on an EP with my boy JR. That’s almost done. We like one or two songs away from that being done. And I got like one or two songs away from my album being done, almost there.

Is the album scheduled for release this year?

It’s not scheduled yet, just because, I didn’t want to do that, man. I didn’t want to put nothing out there and not be able to lock in on it. Like, I would rather have it finished, so it’s no reason why it would be able to come out that day or whatever the case.

Do you have collaborators lined up?

Yeah, I got a couple collabs. I got a couple cool collabs. I can’t really say at this time, because it’s still early, but yeah. The album is crazy, the production is really good, really well-put-together.

So, ‘Return Of The Mack,’ is that pretty indicative of what the album’s gonna sound like?

I wouldn’t say that it’s just that sound. I would say that it gives you different vibes. So, it’s not just, like, the slow pace. It’s a switch-up, I think.

Looking back at your previous releases, what’ve you learned? What do you think of your evolution as an artist and what kind of direction do you hope to go into next, that you haven’t?

As an artist, I think it’s just my consistency that I have to really really really stay on top of. I guess I looked into that type of stuff and I thought, “What’s the hold up here? What’s not been, like, adding up here?” and it’s just the consistency. So, now, that’s the goal, man, to keep working. I love doing it. I’m always working. It’s just the strategy to keep things out. You know, my fans, Alien Gang, they got something to look forward to seeing, without these long dry periods.

Do you think it’s important to keep releasing things as often as possible?

Oh yeah, whether it’s visuals, whether it’s social media content, I mean, people are into that stuff. I was one of those guys that one time was like, “Man, all this social media stuff, man..” I’m not really from that era...but at the same time, if you’re gonna do music, you definitely have to play the game to your benefit, and if I can reach people all over the world through the world wide web, then that works for me as opposed to against me.

How would you sum up Detroit, whether it’s just the music scene, the culture...How would you sum it up?

It’s difficult. We got some of the highest highs and some of the lowest lows. Basically, we got our Eminems, and the Royces, and DeJ Loaf, Tee Grizzley, and Big Sean. Like, those are pretty much the five people who took it past, they broke through that ceiling, but you also got really really really dope artists in Detroit that are capable of doing, song-wise, any of the other guys, lyric-wise, that just never get through this ceiling. So, right now, it’s like we reconstructing. We trying to break the younger guys out of just keeping that same “crab in the bucket” mentality. The history of Detroit is people recognize your talents. Some people give it up. Other people, take it like, “Oh, this dude think he competition. He think he all that…”It’s like, so much hate, so much negatively, but it’s all through a competitive type of thing.”After I do my show, I leave. My boys leave with me. We don’t stick around to check out the other acts and try to build with the other artists.” So, it’s like a two-sided thing with that. On one side, you gotta deal with certain things and certain people, and their ways, but on the flipside of it is, I can’t let these guys outdo me, man. I have to be sharp. I have to be on my shit. It’s always somebody in the city who’s gettin’ better. If you want to stay in that upper echelon, you gotta be sharp.

How does it feel watching people like your brother, like Eminem, like Big Sean, come from your city and get big?

It’s great. It means that there’s hope, you know what I’m saying? It’s possible that we can do a lot coming out of Detroit and that it’s just the only thing, man, is I can’t tell you how Eminem blew up. I don’t think he can. I can’t tell you how Royce blew up. I don’t think he can. DeJ Loaf, Tee Grizzley, I don’t think they have a blueprint for it. So, it’s not like “Oh, that you get on? Okay, well, I’m gonna imitate that, and then I’ll be on.” It’s just certain situations kind of just happen, but it’s still hope nonetheless, and we’re still very proud of the artists that have belonged, passed that certain ceiling and we’re gonna continue to support. It’s just we don’t need any kind of reason to do anything else negative. No lack of support, we can’t afford to do it. There’s too many people already, man, that’s passed in the city that was talented and people who were looked at in the certain light, and we can no longer talk to them, we can no longer listen to the music from these guys, and we gotta keep the pride of Detroit just even for the sake of a Big Proof or a J. Dilla, amongst others that we’ve lost.

You have performed as the hype man for your brother. What’s that been like?

It’s just like, for me, it’s special to me. I love it because it’s my brother. I was already one of the guys who, basically, I listened to everything Royce does, every single thing. I like everything. So, I know all his music anyway. But before me, it was somebody else. It was another guy who he used to be with. That didn’t work out. They kind of were kind of splitting ways as friends. So, I kind of came along at the perfect time. I just picked up a pen one day and started writing. I wrote about three 16-bar verses and I would recycle those 16-bar verses to just rap for people and just shit like that. And finally, Royce heard me after all his friends is telling him to listen to me. “Your brother is nice. I’m telling you.” And he’s like, “My baby brother? What?” So, he’s finally one day, put me on the spot. My heart is beating through my damn chest. I feel like I’m about to pass out. I just close my eyes, and I just start rapping. I open my eyes, I look at Royce, and he looks like he saw a ghost, like “What the fuck?” He was blown away, and then, ever since that day, the very next shows, the very next tour that he did, he brought me with him, and will be on-stage with him, so I will help out certain stuff with the lyrics that he would have him rhyme in front of the crowd. No beat, nothing, just rhyme. And I’ve been basically doing that since I first decided to pick up the pen. I wasn’t even an artist yet.

What’s the age difference between you and your brother?

Royce is a hundred and, I believe, eighty-five, and I’m a hundred and seventy-seven.

youtube

What have your best live experiences been, just as a performer?

I would be lying if I told you these Eminem tours we did weren’t some of the best experiences. Just like I said, man. We come from Detroit. The stigma about Detroit is so many negative things about how bad the city looks, how loud the people are. There’s really no reason for somebody from Detroit to make it on any kind of level. So for it to be me from Detroit, Royce from Detroit, Eminem from Detroit, Mr. Porter from Detroit, we go into these different countries, and I’m not saying that I have any part of how things sell out, but I am a part of it. So, just to be on-stage and you see all those people, and then you’re a part of history where Eminem breaks Michael Jackson’s record for attendance at a stadium, like 81,000...Probably nine times out of 10, the average person will never witness anything like that as far as being on this stage, actually performing. So, I just to be grateful and use it as motivation, but that is definitely one of the bigger experiences that I’ve ever come across, just as far as the amount of people, and they’re all loving this hip-hop. They want to hear this music. You say “Put your hands up” and you see a full stadium of people put they hands in the air, in the name of hip-hop music. Like, how crazy is that? That will probably be my main experience.

Who are some Detroit artists that are more known in Detroit that we should look out for?

If you talk about hip-hop, if you want you just bars, I can refer you to some guys. If you want really dope songs, I can refer you to some people...There’s a kid named Young Roc and, number one, the kid is a star. But he’s coming from Detroit, that there’s so much around him that it’s just not easy to just have him just blow up like that. But, I mean, if you’re looking for songs and just different vibes, he does all that. He got that on lock. If you want, like, lyrics, like “bars” bars, you’ve got my little brother, Al KhuFu, you’ve got Jonnie Morris, Seven the General, Ty Farris, of course, the Marv Wons, Quest MCODYs and stuff like that. It’s so many people that any platform, if they’re rapping, they fit into any community, because they’re nice. It’s not put them up with certain guys, and they’re just gonna get swallowed. They’re gonna shine, because they’re nice. And I can sit here and keep going, females too.

Who are some female rappers?

Miz Korona is of course of the top queens as far as bars go, but you got artists like Tiny Jag, Detroit Che, and she rap better than a lot of dudes. It’s a lot goin’ on and a lot up-and-coming too.

Have you lived in Detroit all your life?

Yeah, all my life. Not directly in Detroit my whole life, but I mean, it’s just the way that it is. If I move to 9 Mile, and 8 Mile is one mile away, so it’s right there.

Do you see yourself ever leaving?

I could myself having property somewhere and then going there, but I’ll always to come back, because this is where my base. This is where it all comes from, where all the hunger to do better, stuff like that. Yeah, I always gotta keep that chip on my shoulder.

You have your own label, Sick ‘Em Records. How did that come about?

“Sick ‘Em” is something that I will always say, in between records, and stuff like that, and then it got kinda catchy. So, people started to repeat it all the time. So, I just was like, “That’s kind of what people know me for. So, let me go ahead and turn it into something.” So, me and my business partner decided to make that a thing.

You do things also like helping young artists with giving equipment and mentoring. What do you get out of doing that?

Well, you know, like I say, man. There’s not very much for people to look forward to. It’s almost like they don’t have anything to look forward to. When you wake up every day, and you just wake up to the same stuff. “This guy left the street. He didn’t graduate from college. This guy didn’t get this good job, and now he’s got this nice car, or whatever.” It’s just the same old struggle. So, if you could do something to help these kids get that feeling of just, “I feel like I’m a part of something. I feel like I’m taking my talent to a new level dealing with this situation just because I’ve got access to the studio. I’ve got access to equipment, camera equipment. You know, all of them are into it. All of them are into rap music. All of them are into photography and making beats and instruments. They just don’t really have anybody to say, “Come on in here, and you can work and sharpen your skills right here.” At Heaven Studio, where you might see Royce walking by. You might see J. Cole, or Westside Gunn and Conway walking by you. The whole type of things are experiences and level-ups for you.

I know you worked with Conway on your project in 2018, The Purge. Are you pretty close with the Griselda dudes?

That’s them, from a while ago. Before Conway and Westside Gunn got on Shady, I was rockin’ with them dudes. Westside Gunn and Conway were on Royce’s Trust The Shooter project, and shortly after that, Conway was on The Purge, my record, for a song called ‘Iron Man’, and it turned out crazy, and I’ve been witnessing their journey and their growth for a long time. It’s amazing. It’s amazing what they’re doing for hip-hop, just because the climate of hi-hop. I’m not gonna sit here and badmouth nobody’s music and nobody’s vibe. I’ve over that shit. But I’m speaking as a fan of hip-hop. I was fallin’ out of love with the music that I was hearing. It just felt like hip-hop is not for me anymore. It’s for a certain demographic. And then these guys come along with some grimy-ass New York hip-hop, and people is rockin’ with it, and I’m like, “Holy shit!” So, I’m listening to it, and it’s motivational on a different level or something…It’s basically, “Keep goin’. Keep doin’ what you doin,’” but then...keep the consistency with it, and it’ll pay off.

Do you think we’re due for a full-on revival of harsher, lyrically-driven hip-hop like they make and like you make, or do you think it’s gonna stay in the underground?

You know, I think we’re due. We’re definitely due for some more thought-provoking, grimier-sounding, just like soulful type of music. Right now, I’m not seeing the evolution from kind of, like, the Casio keyboard-sounding beats. I don’t know where the evolution goes from there. But as far as hip-hop, man, we’re due for it. It’s time. I don’t know what the last hit record was like that in hip-hop, but it seems like it’s been a minute.

You have to think about how Eminem, obviously he’s huge, and Kamikaze hit number one, and that was a pretty no-frills record with a lot of really aggressive raps, very few features, and even though he’s a superstar, the fact that an album like that can still be a huge hit, I think, says a lot.

Absolutely. I mean, shit, Eminem has had his ups and down as far as the sound of what music that he does put out. But generally, everything that he does put out is successful. But for him to do songs with like, Skylar Grey on the hook and these big, almost-pop-sounding records, then he switches it completely and go into hardcore, just spazzed-out shit. People say it sound like he mad. And I’m like, “What is it about aggression that people got such a problem with? Like, that’s what hip-hop is built on. We can’t take the aggression out of hip-hop and everything, everybody’s singing, like, Autotune. It just sounds so robotic and generic, that hip-hop could possibly fuckin’ disappear just like rock ‘n roll.

Since mainstream hip-hop has a largely white audience, do you think people are uncomfortable with the idea of say, a non-white person expressing anger, expressing dismay about how things are, and would rather just hear them having fun and talking about things like partying?

Yeah, I mean, but all of those are part of life. There are people that party every day. But there’s also a lot of people that don’t party every day. It’s people who fuckin’ read books and shit. They want their brain to be challenged, and when they’re playing certain music...it doesn’t do anything for their brain. Everything is just straightforward….Even though there is a large amount of white fans and stuff in hip-hop, I feel like the artist still creates what the relevance is as far as the things that they come up with musically. Everybody’s not talking about that type of stuff like racism, but the thing is, people that do talk about that type of stuff, it shouldn’t be looked at like, “Ugh, we don’t wanna hear that.” It’s a real thing, and we can’t turn the cheek to it. But it’s just gotta be dope. I just feel like if it’s dope, if it’s truthful, then it won’t be denied. How can we evolved always talkin’ about this club. LIke, you walk out your door, and boom, you in the club. That’s not a reality, that’s not a real thing.

from The 405 http://bit.ly/2uOEyno

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themusicenthusiast · 7 years

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Tuesday, June 6th, 2017 – It’s a ‘No Bumma’ Tuesday in Dallas Thanks to a Blistering Set from Hell or Highwater

All photos by Jordan Buford Photography This Tuesday night saw the Hearts in Hell Tour rolling through Dallas, Hell or Highwater and Stitched Up Heart joining forces for a month-long tour, the former of those having a strong showing of fans out. It probably didn’t hurt that they had been in Dallas barely over a month prior for a show, and clearly, one way or another, they had made an impression on those who ventured out to The Curtain Club this night. In a bit of a repeat from that April gig, Idler was opening for them, fellow D-FW acts Awaiting Daylight and Solice joining them in warming up the crowd, all setting a high bar for the two headliners. Furthering the excitement about Hell or Highwater’s set was the fact that they had released Vista (out via Spinefarm Records) since their last trip through, fans having now had time to indulge in the new material from their sophomore LP. I was looking forward to seeing them as well, having enjoyed what I caught of them while at the Aftershock Festival in 2015. They were good then, but within mere moments of taking the stage this night it was evident they had become a totally different band in the time since.

They only had 37-minutes to work with, Kyle Rosa launching them into their opening number with some pulsating percussion, frontman Brandon Saller jumping around some as they took the place by storm with “Colors”. The lead track from their new album was a stupendous way to kick it off, having a bit of an anthem-esque feel to it, its assertive vibe pulling everyone into the rock ‘n’ roll spectacle they were preparing to deliver, the room feeling electric. “Let me see those hands!! Clap those hands!!” the singer instructed, most of the patrons throwing their hands up in the air and helping out with the beat, feeling compelled to participate as they made a direct segue into “Don't Stop. Get Up”. They continued throwing down, bassist Nick Maldonado and Saller standing back to back as the cut got underway, while Joey Bradford attacked his guitar and belted out the backing vocals that serve to make it (and all of their stuff) that much more dynamic. Saller even climbed atop the kick drum at one point, singing a few lines from up there; the rest of the stage being adorned by some faux palm trees with lights strung from them. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. How are you doing tonight?” asked the frontman, soon mentioning they did have a new album out and asking who had Vista in their collection. A good bit of people did, and they seemed rather familiar with one of the singles released prior to the album coming out, “Don't Hate Me”. No sooner had it begun and Saller hopped off the stage, spending the entirety of it roaming around the Curtain and mingling with spectators. The simple gesture made it that much cooler, that he would go the extra mile into establishing a connection with everyone; and Jon Hoover made use of the extra space now available on the backlined stage, moving more towards the center and shredding on his axe.

The rapid-fire pace continued with “Another Good Time”, Bradford having a chance to demonstrate his musical prowess as he wailed on his guitar, the solo packing a punch as they put everyone in a deeper state of awe. Upon finishing that one Saller commented on their décor along with their attire (they were sporting some Hawaiian shirts), stating they had brought the beach with them, essentially wanting to capture that carefree attitude that is often associated with California living, wearing their “party shirts” to boot. I don’t know how much of a legitimate beach vibe it created, though it did make the environment fell all the more fun, so, mission accomplished.

Patrons were encouraged to pull their phones out for “Lighter Than Air”, the slightly more melodic track seeing most everyone waving their phones about, lights on bright, capturing one of those classic concert moments, albeit with a modern twist. That was welcomed, but someone buried in their phone wasn’t what they were hoping for, Saller playfully calling out a person who he had noticed had been on their phone since they started. “…Don’t text and show…” he remarked, stressing that was almost as important as not texting and driving. That earned some hearty laughs, and as he continued addressing the crowd, Saller noted they would do one old song, which delighted fans and showed just what a solid fan base they had out this night.

It was the lead track from Begin Again that they had planned, the high-energy “Gimmie Love” fitting perfectly with everything else they had been doing this night, and I dare say it wound up being the most electrifying song of their set. They were confident and comfortable throughout their performance, though were even more in the zone on that one. Perhaps it was due to the extra familiarity and assurance with that one, being one they’ve played for years now that made it so enthralling, but regardless as to what it was they knocked it out of the park. As they took a breather, Saller formally introduced themselves to the crowd, then asking if they had it in them for some singing along. It was simple, and he led everyone through “whoa oh” a few times, making sure people had it down. That brought them to the most inspiring song in their arsenal, “Walk Out in the Rain” carrying a message of perseverance and weathering whatever life throws at you. “…You can break me, stab me in the back but I'll still leave with my soul intact… Life's a walk out in the rain,” goes part of the chorus; Saller thrusting the microphone out towards everyone each time their part came around, the crowd singing it back at them, all of that cultivating a magical moment as their set approached the end.

Before their final song, they mentioned the way of life they were out pushing on the road. “No bumma summa!” Saller declared, the audience going above and beyond his request of shouting it and instead making it into a chant as they wished everyone an unforgettable summer. And helping them make this an unforgettable set was “I Want it All”, the striking song bringing things to a mighty finish, even drawing it out, turning over the refrain of “I want it all!” to the onlookers before wrapping it up, the quintet leaving the stage having blown at least a few minds this night. What the five of them did on the stage this night transcended being just a show and instead was an absolute experience. No words could adequately describe it, it was just one of those things you needed to witness to be able to truly understand and appreciate.

The energy they exuded was infectious, their music being specifically geared towards energizing the listener, the near non-stop pace they maintained ensuring they were nothing short of riveting. Said energy Hell or Highwater managed to harness was overwhelming, wielding it perfectly and exceeding everything their fans were hoping for while enthralling all of the new listeners. A completely different band from when I saw them upwards of two years ago, they really seem to have come into their own. The live performance is definitely where they excel the most and if you get the chance you need to see them. Their music is just as impressive, though. The lyrics of their new stuff are uplifting and encouraging, sure to resonate deeply with many who hear it, and that’s what music is all about. It’s about connecting with someone and making them feel something, and everything off Vista will certainly achieve that. The Hearts in Hell Tour will run on through July 9th when it wraps up at Whisky A Go Go in Los Angeles, CA. Other stops include June 15th at The Basement in Columbus, OH; June 23rd at The Riot Room in Kansas City, MO; and July 1st at Knitting Factory in Spokane, WA. A few days after the tour is over they’ll be in Chicago for Chicago Open Air on July 14th, and in late September you can catch them at High Elevation Fest in Denver. A full list of their upcoming shows can be found HERE; and go buy Vista in iTUNES or GOOGLE PLAY.

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