#the title is eh. maybe ill change it if i come up with something better

[vincess-princess]

as we were falling

formerly untitled

ch. 3

a/n: do you like the title? idk if this idea is going anywhere but i felt bad leaving it nameless

warnings: take a wild guess (violence, piss mention)

word count: 1777

“It’s full,” Tommy said, plopping down onto Nikki’s mattress. “Heaping, even.”

“Damn it.” Nikki squeezed his knees tighter, agony on his face. “When are they gonna empty it? I’m dying here, man.”

“They usually do it after breakfast.”

“Breakfast was hours ago. Any chance they’re gonna do it today?”

“Eh…”

“So no.”

“Yeah,” Tommy sighed. One bucket for twenty captives definitely wasn’t enough, even when emptied regularly, and when it wasn’t… things got stinky. Nikki, still chained to the wall (Tommy couldn’t look at the red stripe of irritated skin underneath the ring of the handcuff without shuddering), couldn’t even make trips there, so the bucket instead made trips to him – with Tommy’s help.

Now, though, he couldn’t risk lifting it without splashing the contents all across the floor. The room already smelled worse than an underground bar toilet, and Tommy thought nothing could beat that. The first assumption his new life proved wrong, he thought grimly.

“We’re already drowning in shit, and now they decide to make it literal,” Nikki grumbled. “God, I’d love to splash it on their faces. Shower them in shit. Unite them with their kind, so to say.”

For a second Tommy indulged himself on imagining the guards’ faces if it happened. Or, rather, their shrieking and yelling – they couldn’t see their faces behind the helmets, after all. It was no great loss – helped somewhat, even. It made it easier to believe that those were some aliens, evil minions, androids, whatever – not real, regular people like them and Nikki for whom what they were doing was a job just as much as cleaning tables in a café was for Tommy. They did it for a living, probably had families they came home to. Did they ever tell them stories from work? “So this one captive today threw up on the boots of my buddy Jackson and we electrocuted her for fifteen seconds for that”?

“Hey?” he heard Nikki’s voice. Then he snapped his fingers in front of Tommy’s face. “Ground control to major Tom. Can you hear me?”

Tommy slapped his hand away. “Don’t interrupt me. I am speaking that into existence.”

Nikki huffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, master wizard. Of course, keep on weaving your spells. I’ll be here, peeing my pants quietly.”

“Well, what else can I do?” Tommy threw his hands up. “I’m already running back and forth with this bucket for Your Majesty to shit in three times a day. You could show a little gratitude.”

“I’m very grateful,” Nikki said seriously, but the force with which he pressed his hand to his chest gave out a taunt. “It doesn’t help my problem, though.”

“I’m not giving you my cup.”

“I wasn’t even thinking of that, but now that you mentioned it…” Nikki began eyeing Tommy’s cup hungrily. Tommy moved it farther back so that Nikki couldn’t reach it.

“You have no soul.” Nikki crossed his arms on his chest, but didn’t really pull off the offended face, only prompting Tommy to laugh. “You cruel, cruel bastard. What am I to do? Piss on the floor? Or hold it in and explode from too much pee?”

“You know,” Tommy looked at the floor with renewed interest, “it’s already dirty… wouldn’t hurt much.”

Nikki threw his head back and laughed. “We really getting desperate here, aren’t we? By the way,” he suddenly changed the topic, “when’s dinner?”

“Not sure,” Tommy said, confused. “It’s hard to track time here, you know. But… I’d say, in about half an hour.”

“Great. It won’t dry off by then.” Nikki said, whipped out his dick and peed right into the passage between the two rows of mattresses. “They always pass through here,” he grinned, shoved his dick back into his pants and returned to his place. Tommy and a dozen other captives watched the urine lazily flowing along the passage.

Tommy turned to Nikki and was met with a beaming smile.

“You really have no limits, man,” he said.

“The sky is the limit,” Nikki declared pompously. “And also it was the only place I could reach. But, as they say, two birds with one stone! They’ll have to walk along the passage, there’s not enough space between mattresses for the trolley. And my bladder isn’t tearing apart. I say, we’ve got a good deal.”

Thousands of objections began running through Tommy’s head until they became background noise. Yes, it will get their asses kicked, but it’s not like it hadn’t happened before. Besides, he wanted to hear the guards’ screams when they realized what they were walking on. Maybe it will get them to empty the bucket in time, too.

“Yeah,” Tommy grinned back. “Maybe it will teach them a lesson.”

Over the next half an hour three captives tried to demand they wipe the piss down, but to no avail. Nikki smiled at them with his brand smile – all sharp teeth and a crazy gleam in his eyes – and Tommy offered them to do it themselves if they disliked it so much, which none of them rushed to do. The urine persisted until the guards arrived with a trolley full of nutrient paste.

As expected, they didn’t look down. As expected, they heard the splash when it was already too late.

“Who the hell spilled water here?” one of the guards looked around the room. Everybody averted their gazes. “One of us could slip on that! If that happens again we’ll remove the washbowl and ration your water too!”

“Guys,” another said, “is it just me or does it smell like piss in here?”

Tommy and Nikki exchanged looks. It was increasingly hard not to laugh.

“Of course it does. The bucket’s heaping.” And they all laughed, the sound muffled by their helmets but nonetheless disgusting.

They began throwing packages with the paste at the captives, not really bothering to aim, but even when a package hit someone’s head, no one dared to say a word. Seeing people so beaten into humiliation and obedience was revolting, but also Tommy knew what they would get were they to act up, and he understood them. After all, when it’s a choice between dignity and survival, every normal person would choose the latter.

Nikki, by these standards, was straight-up bonkers, because he never once lowered his gaze even when black helmets turned right towards him. His sheer recklessness infected Tommy, because every time the piss splashed under the guards’ boots he couldn’t hold back a smile.

Eventually it attracted attention.

“What’s so funny, you pipsqueak?” One of the guards poked him in the shoulder with a bat.

“Nothing,” Tommy said quickly, staring at the guard’s wet boot traces on the floor.

“Bullshit!” The bat poked him harder. “You find something here funny? Tell us, we want to laugh too.”

Other guards began turning around and looking themselves over suspiciously. Tommy waited with bated breath for them to discover they were standing in piss.

“You see,” he began, “sometimes things are not what they seem. Not all that’s liquid is gold, but sometimes… it is.”

“What the hell does that mean? What liquid?” The guard looked down and Tommy could almost see his face falling. “Is this- is this-“

“That’s fucking piss! I said it smells like piss! I said it!” another one screamed, trying to wipe the soles of his boots on the floor. Tommy could only hope Nikki’s piss was acidic enough to leave those boots smelly for at least a little while after. “He peed in the fucking aisle!”

“You bastard!” the guard growled, grabbing Tommy by the scruff of his robe and single-handedly pulling him onto his feet. “You son of a bitch!” He pushed Tommy in the middle of the room towards the other guards. Tommy could bet their faces were creased with anger, and a chill went down his spine.

“Look at ‘im! He did it on purpose!” The one who smelled the piss jumped forward and raised the bat over his head. Then it collided with Tommy’s shoulder, and he almost dropped onto his knees, his vision for a second going white.

“Hey! Hey! He didn’t do it!” he heard from behind his back. Dammit, Nikki. “I did it! Leave him alone! I did it!”

The second blow never got there. All the guards turned towards Nikki.

“You?” one of them said.

“Me.” Nikki grinned back. “You should’ve sent someone to empty the bucket.”

Tommy watched the guards unchain him, but only to drag him to the middle of the room, push him onto his knees and zap him with two shockers at once, one in the chest and one in the hip. About twelve seconds into this Nikki must have blacked out, because he stopped screaming. The guards dragged him back to his mattress and dropped his lifeless body there, the knees of his robe soaked with urine.

“You knew he pissed there,” a guard said then to Tommy. “You knew and didn’t tell us.”

He got zapped too – later he figured out that he got an easier deal with just one shocker, though at the moment it was hard to tell with electricity seemingly disintegrating his body tissues. He was dropped on the floor right where he stood.

“You all knew,” he heard a guard say to the captives through ringing in his ears. “You all knew and said nothing, you spineless sacks of shit. You ain’t getting any dinner today. Give that back!”

It took Tommy some time to come around, and when he crawled back to his mattress, Nikki had only just awakened, his eyes still foggy and unfocused, a thread of saliva hanging from his half-open mouth.

“Man, you look like shit,” Tommy croaked.

Nikki only made an unintelligible groan in response, but Tommy knew he said something along the lines of “you ain’t no better”. Which, fair.

He laid down on his mattress, trying to combat the nausea that always came with electric shock. When one wanted to puke his guts out so badly, getting deprived of dinner didn’t seem half as bad. The captives probably didn’t agree, but none of them dared to express their discontent verbally – for now, at least.

Soon Nikki tried to raise his head and sit up. The guards forgot to chain him back, so he could finally use both his arms. Well, at least something good came out of this whole mess.

“Man,” he heard Nikki’s hoarse voice, “that was hella fun.”

And, despite his body hurting all over and his pants soaked in piss, Tommy could hardly disagree with him. At least now the guards knew they could get back at them – in their own way.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #tommy lee #motley crue fanfiction #tw: piss #piss features heavily in this chapter. its for plot purposes i swear #it basically goes like this: #nikki does some shit #tommy plays along #both get their asses beaten #and nevertheless have a good time #as we were falling #the title is eh. maybe ill change it if i come up with something better #but it will do for now

[castexpectopatronum]

Liquid Amber - Part III [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

notes: reupload because the original got deleated

trigger warnings: none

word count: 1.9k

Masterlist

What was Remus Lupin hiding?

The question was burning inside of you ever since your encounter in the corridor a few days ago. And even though you knew that it was none of your business, you still were determined to find out.

Concerning this matter, it was fortunate you fancied Remus as that made you far more observant of him. Whenever you could, you shot glances at him, during meals and classes, and paid special attention to his behaviour. You did notice that he seemed rather sick, he looked pale and peaky and he seemed to be growing weaker by each day.

Then, he disappeared. When you stepped into the Transfiguration classroom one day, already late, only to find his seat empty, a deep frown appeared on your face. His friends, James, Sirius and Peter, were there, but unusually quiet and had black shadows under their eyes. Peter even fell asleep during the lesson; his soft snores filled the classroom until Sirius nudged him with his ellbow causing Peter to almost fall from his chair. You observed them carefully while pretending to listen to Professor McGonagall’s lecture. Perhaps the Marauders had pulled off an all-nighter of some sort but that still didn’t explain Remus’ absence. Maybe he had a hangover – although you failed to imagine Remus as some kind of party animal.

Remembering how sickly he had looked the day before, you decided to check the Hospital Wing for him and bring Remus some chocolate bars from Honeyduke’s which you knew he loved.

However, when you entered the Hospital Wing, you found that it was already occupied. James, Sirius and Peter were huddled around a bed at the far corner of the room, hiding the person lying in it from your view. The expression upon their faces turned into one of surprise once they spotted you, mirroring your own.

“Sorry,” you said, taken aback by their presence – although now that you thought about it, you should have expected it. “I didn’t know you were here. I was just looking for Remus.”

The three of them exchanged looks, as if they knew something you didn’t, and stood up.

“No problem, we just wanted to leave, anyway,” Sirius said. Next moment, he groaned all of a sudden, leaving you to raise your eyebrows in surprise. James bent down to whisper something in Remus’ ear who looked rather alarmed. He replied something in a hushed voice but James simply gave him a crooked grin, patted him gently on the shoulder and barely gave Sirius and Peter the chance to say their goodbyes before he pushed them towards the door. Playing with your sleeves, you observed them with furrowed eyebrows.

“Y’know, if it’s not a good time, I can come back tomorrow or-”

“Nonsense, the time is perfect,” James interrupted.

“Just make sure to be gentle with him,” said Peter in a concerned voice. “He’s been through a lot.”

Your frown deepened. “What do you mean?”

“Just a nasty flu, tha’s all,” said Sirius quickly, shooting Peter a warning glance. “Nothing to worry about. Give it a few days and he’ll be as good as new.” He turned to his friends. “C’mon, we best be going.” They shot you one last glance and Peter flashed a smile, then the door closed behind them, the sound echoing in the room, leaving you and Remus alone in the Hospital Wing.

You turned around to him and chuckled nervously. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”

Remus didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. He didn’t give any indication whatsoever that he was happy to see you. He simply stared at you, his eyes shining like liquid amber.

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you in class today. Here.” You placed the chocolate bars on the nightstand next to his bed. “A little something to cheer you up. Thought you could use it.”

Remus nodded weakly. “Thank you,” he muttered and watched you sit down on a chair.

You smiled sheepishly. “So, the flu, eh?”

Remus shrugged and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “Happens to the best of us.”

You took in his appearence with furrowed eyebrows. Remus was whiter than the bedsheets, his face was hallow, and his eyes, usually so attentive and full of warmth, were now dull. Dark bags circling them, and he looked very thin and weak. You doubted he even had the strength to get up.

“How are you feeling?”

Remus turned his head away from you and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m fine.”

You cocked your head. “And Dumbledore isn’t two-hundred years old.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I don’t think he’s quite that old.”

“How would you know? Do you know when he was born?”

“No wizard gets that old.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Dumbledore did. The man is ancient.”

This finally evoqued a smile from him which you couldn’t help but return. But he remained silent.

“You don’t really have the flu, do you?”

Remus’ head spun around, and although he hid it quickly and put on a neutral expression, you did not miss the flash of panic in his eyes.

“Of course I have the flu. What else should I have?”

“Remus, you’re as white as a ghost. The flu is terrible but it doesn’t make you look as if you’re on the brink of death.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you knew you had hit a nerve. Remus’ jaw clenched and his eyes suddenly turned colder. He turned his head to stare at the ceiling, avoiding the worried yet piercing look in your eyes.

“It’s a nasty one.”

You snorted. “Sure. Don’t try and fool me, Remus. I know a flu when I see it and whatever it is that you have, it’s not that.”

He didn’t respond.

You sighed, regretting the harsh tone in your voice. “Listen, Remus... You don’t have to tell me what you have or why you get sick so often. But... I just want you to know that I’m there for you if you ever do want to talk about it. And whatever it is – I can’t imagine it could change my opinion on you.” You gave your best to give him an encouraging smile and stood up. “You should eat some chocolate. You’ll feel better afterwards.”

You knew he wouldn’t answer but still lingered for several moments to a least give him the opportunity to. When your conviction proved to be right, however, you gave him one last half-hearted smile and left the Hospital Wing.

A part of you had hoped that after this incident Remus and you would grow closer but instead Remus was more determined than ever to avoid you. Every time you passed him in the hallway, you felt a painful sting in your heart. However, the original issue of Remus refusing to go out with you became less and less important to you although your crush on him grew stronger by each day.

Your academic success was quite average but you weren’t stupid – to you there was no doubt that Remus’s illness was the cause of all this trouble, also considering he often looked pale and sickly. Every time you saw him looking particularly weak, your wish to help him grew even more urgent than before but you could only help him with his condition if you knew what it was – and trying to get Remus to open up about his sickness was about as effective as convincing James of writing a love letter to Snape.

It was two months of this slow torture and several stupid theories later that you realised Remus’s sickness was not only a frequent but also regular occurence. As far as you remembered, he seemed to be getting sick every once a month.

A deep frown appeared on your face and you turned around in your seat to look at Remus who was taking notes on Professor Flitwick’s words. His face was pale again with dark bags circling his eyes. A strange cut peaked out from under his shirt collor.

As if he had felt your intent gaze, Remus suddenly lifted his head. For one moment, is amber eyes burned into yours, then his intense expression turned into one of guilt and he quickly looked back down at his notes.

That day you merely picked at your food, your thoughts far away. Your friend watched in concern as you ripped a breadroll into tiny little pieces without eating any of it, staring absent-mindedly onto the wooden table.

“(Y/N), are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up, halting in your motion. “Yeah, I uh...” You hesitated, looking at the breah crumbs in your hand. “Actually, I still got something to do, uh...” Pushing your plate away, you stood up from the dining table, your friend watching you in confusion. “I’ll catch you up later,” you promised and left the Great Hall before your friend had even opened their mouth to protest.

The library was dead quiet as every student was at dinner which was very much to your liking. That way you could follow your suspicions without having to worry about anybody asking unwanted questions.

Pensively, you let your fingers brush over the back of the old books until you finally pulled one out, feeling the weight of it in your hands. You viewed the cover thoughtfully for a moment before you tucked it under your arm and continued to collect more books.

Half an hour later, you carried a great stash of books out of the library, carefully transporting them the long way to your common room as they didn’t all fit into your bag.

“What the hell is that?” your friend asked incredulously as you entered your dorm room and let the books fall onto your bed where they scattered all over your blanket.

“Books,” you answered.

Your friend raised their eyebrows. „Really,“ they said blankly. „Good thing you explained that, I had no idea.“ You threw them an half-annoyed, half-amused glance as they strolled over to your bedside and viewed the book titles.

“Magical Diseases and Epidemics,” they read aloud, “Dragon Pox or Measles? An Encyclopedia on Magical Maladies.” They raised their head to look at you, their eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared in their hairline. “Are you sick?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head, and started stacking the books on the nightstand, pushing your friend aside as you did. “It’s ... a new hobby.”

“A hobby?”

“Yes. That’s what you call an enjoyable freetime activity.”

“I didn’t know purulent dragon pox were an enjoyable free time activity.”

You threw her an annoyed glance as you put another book on the growing stack. “It’s an interesting topic as I have realised.”

“And you had to skip dinner to get those books?”

“Yes,” you said, avoiding your friend’s eyes.

You knew they didn’t believe a single thing you said but thankfully, they didn’t further inquire. Instead, they rolled their eyes and let themselves fall onto their own bed. “I always knew you were weird,” they said. “Just make sure you don’t actually get sick. I don’t fancy getting dragon pox.”

“No one is going to get dragon pox,” you replied, but a small smile was tugging at your lips. The two of you walked down to your common room to do your homework which, although you had quite some trouble concentrating on, you hurried to finish, so you could get back to your books.

Remus Lupin had a problem and you were determined to find out what it was.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin imagines #liquid amber #part iii #marauders era imagine #marauders imagine

[cherriesradio]

Valentines Day with Class 1-A

Monday

(Very long post, pure, tooth root, fluff)

(Divided by main groups)

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, very much unedited

Dekusquad

Deku

He gently wakes you up by kissing your cheek and shaking you a bit, giggling.

“Wake up sleepyhead. I already made breakfast, your favorite.” He says, with a gentle smile as you turn over and get up for the day.

He takes you to the park. A place you two would take walks at almost every day, whenever Deku had free time from being the number one hero.

He picks flowers off the ground, pulling gently on your shirt to get your attention. When you turn around to him he puts the colorful flowers into your hair, giggling when you pull some out and put them in his.

Then the local boba shop, the one you two would save up for and get boba every week back in high school.

He laughed when you said you two should both get strawberry ones, “because, ya know, Valentines, pink, pink and valentine????”

You would share silly memories of whenever you two would invite others to go. Like when you invited the whole Bakusquad and Bakugo almost set the whole place on fire.

He would end the day by going to the very roof top he learned All Might’s secret. He knew the view wasn’t great, and that you didn’t have much sentimental value to it even though you knew, but it was similar to you.

How it was a part of changing his life for the better, how every time he walked by it he got a little bit happier, how it reminded him of a time he was weak and how much he has improved. It made him feel powerful and like he could do anything some how, and so did you.

He leans over while holding your hand and kisses you softly, a small satisfyed “hmp” coming form your throat

Asui Tsuyu

You woke her up. You wanted to make her breakfast, but also knew how much she loved making breakfast along with you.

Once you dragged her out of bed, she woke right up by you splashing down freezing water in her face. You quickly planted millions of kisses on her face, “to warm you back up! All the cold blood, and all!”

She much preferred to stay at home, but wanted to go out some place fancy for the special day.

About two days ago she reserved a spot at a restaurant that had a frog pond and a fountain, that was outside yet felt warm apart from the cold night air.

For most of the day you stayed inside, cuddling and watching movies. Most were romace comdeys that probably no ones else knew existed.

You two face times the rest of the Dekusquad, since everyone was in differing parts of Japan.

Luckily Deku and Ochako lived pretty close by, so you two figured it would be fun to go to the restaurant with them. A double date, which you had loved since the first one back in your UA days.

You two, begrudgingly, changed out of your pj’s and changed into fancy-jet, more appointments clothing.

It made you so happy seeing the large grin on her face and glow in her eyes as she saw you in your dress/ suit/ whatever fancy wear.

You two hopped out of the car, deciding to park a little far since you two hadn’t been out of the house all day, therefore didn’t get any exercise. So, why not get a few calories off from the whole pack of oreos you ate while watching Mean Girls?

Then when you are finally there, at your seats, waited for Deku and Ochako. Saying inside jokes, poking each other’s sides and holding in giggles among with the many other couples.

When they finally arrived, five minutes late because Deku had to remind his agency that he was having the day off, ordered.

You and a great time, sharing laughs and how your life’s have been lately.

When you got home around 10 o’clock, you slept the rest of the night trying to sleep.

But as normal, you made werid noises to make the otehr giggle, keeping them up, both of you being asleep by two in the morning after giving up and looking at YouTube for a hour before falling asleep.

Ochako

You had decided to spend Valentines with her parents. You hadn’t seen each other in a while and found that it would be nice, especially because of how much Ochako values family.

They are so kind when you two walk in the door with the biggest grins and with a warm, comforting arua seemingly circulating you.

They offer food and little gifts but you deny all of them, knowing they can barely afford giving gifts with how their company is still small.

You two use your hero money and go out and buy them furniture, and clothes, and food, and everything they could ever need for months.

They are so grateful and can’t believe their little Ochako grew up to be as amazing as she is, with a loving, responsible lover by her side at all times.

That night when you get back home, you share stories you and surely already told about your childhoods and how much you love your family’s, biological or not.

Iida

He wakes you up accidentally, he was doing all the paper work he had for the day in the morning so he could spend the majority of the day with you.

The speedy scratch of the pencil on his paper woke you up, whispering in a low morning voice “Tenya, dear? Your already awake?”

He turned in his office chair, a small smile on his face seeing your droopy eye lids and messy hair.

“Yes, love. I wanted to do all the work I had so I can spend time with you. Like how I did all my school work before you came to my dorm back in UA.” He smiled, you smiling right back.

“Alright, I’ll go make breakfast. Oatmeal or pancakes?” “Eh, it’s Valentine’s. Let’s go with pancakes for once.”

He put his head on your shoulder as he hugged you from behind, you flipping the pancakes messily, most landing folded in half.

When both of you were ready and had gotten out of your sleepy states, you went to walk around the city.

You brought your wallets. You visited a indoor petting zoo first. All the goats were weirdly fluffy and soft, and you brushed at the sheep’s fur in awe. He told you tons of facts that you wouldn’t ever normally learn, like how sheep actually need to have their wool taken off or else their overheat.

Then you went a few more blocks down and found a nice smaller library, with a cottage core aesthetic.

You walked in, quickly grated by the friendly old lady at the check out, and waved.

You two spent hours sitting, researching random things you never knew you needed to know.

You would occasionally tap the otehr shoulder to show them a good piece of writing, or something interesting.

After a few hours you went back how with him carrying you, both of you tired from walking all day.

You went home and spent the rest of the night watching documentaries, some that were funny and dumb but some that were smart and made you want to watch it again and again.

You went to bed, both facing each otehr with your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your chest.

Todoroki

Both of you accidentally wake up. He was being the big spoon, and in his sleep he accidentally used his quirk (due to his usual nightmares) and made you just a tab (WAY) to hot. You shrieked and woke him up.

You two giggled, finding that the other was awake. He quickly used his quirk and made the hot spot feel colder, but not to cold. And you told him that everything will be alright, that his nightmares aren’t real anymore. They will never be again.

You jokingly said you should do the thing where you cook on his left side like you did most mornings in UA, and he seriously said “sure”

Of course they tasted horrible because of his sweat and you two had to have an emergency trip to the grocery and got chocolate chip muffins

And of course got distracted and got a ton of other sweets as well

You spent pretty much the whole day in, goofing around, having hour long calls with friends, watching movies, cuddling, anything else you would do on a rainy Valentines Day

And of course, you had to go on Amazon and buy way to much with endeavors credit card that you went on a adventure to steal a few weeks ago and having been saving for a special occasion

As you were in the middle of a puzzle together, the rain calmed down a bit

“Hey, hey, love?” He gently grabbed your wrist in the middle of moving a corner piece

“Yes, darling?” You said, slightly surprised

“Can you and I go out for a second? I wanna try something.” You could resist and said yes, the glow in his eyes was to much to not say yes.

He grabbed an umbrella form the garage and pulled you under as you walked out, softly smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

He brought you to the end of your driveway, righ next to the small garden you two had planted mostly out of boredom 

He pulled you close and gently kissed your lips, softly. He let it last longer then his normal mere seconds long pecks, allowing it to last for what was probably half a minute, and pulled away

“Is that all we came out here for?” You titled your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow

“Yes.” He brightly smiled. “I read somewhere that kissing someone in the rain is romantic. And if it’s at night, or as it is right now late afternoon, it’s extra romantic.”

You giggle at his attempt of romance, which did work. How he got to doing it was odd, but that was how he found out about most romantic things.

Bakusquad

Bakugo

He definitely woke you up. He was ecstatic about the day, having big plans (*insert Kenny face*)

“SUKI WHAT THE HELL ITS FIVE IN THE MORNING WHY DO I NEED TO GET UP” “JUST GET UP I HAVE BIG PLANS OKAY GET UP OR ILL DRAG YOU” “JESUS”

He did drags you out, sadly (he drags real hard)

He then throws you on the couch while putting one of your favorite movies, and goes to make bacon eggs and pancakes

You eat, sitting inbetween his legs leaning onto him and watch the movie, maybe a few more until most normal people would be up

He occasionally title your head back so he can kiss your forehead, hair kisses feel werid on his lips

He gets the whole Bakusquad together, surprising everyone but they good

They all come to your house and Bakugo’s all “okay now we’re gonna go to the mall let’s go”

And he buys you literally everything

You can glance at it with the tinyest bit if interest and he’ll buy it

Then you all go for frozen yogurt and it’s good but you get a Brian freeze

And as probably the only in character thing he did all day, he made fun of you for it

Everyone goes home, thanking you two for the good Valentine’s Day

You two go to UA, right in front of the closed building (it’s a weekend, only the employees would be there)

You two remember how you first meet here, how you bumped into him while talking to a friend, and he was ready to yell at you, but he was to star struck by how beautiful you were to say a word.

He blushed

He asks you to turn around

You think it’s just something he secretly bought you back at the mall while you weren’t looking

It wasn’t

“Y/n, you can turn around now.”

You turn around back to him, and at first see how the sunset is perfectly on him, making him look better then ever

Then you notice his pose, his sweet yet needy expression, his hands… what he’s holding

“Will… will you marry me?”

You cover your mouth, quickly collapsing into a tight hug around his shoulders, kissing his cheek

“Yes, stupid! Of course, Jesus, I’ll gonna beat you up as soon as we get home! I love you so much!”

He laughs at how your words don’t match whatsoever

He kisses you passionately, glad that he asked Kirishima to secretly take a video ;)

Kirishima

He was so excited. He tried so hard not to wake you up, but the light sizzling woke you.

You woke up and walked into your kitchen. There stood Bakugo and Kirishima, Bakugo teaching Kirishima how to cook something. Bacon, maybe?

“No, shitty hair, you gotta flip it when the sizzlings a “ssss”, not a “zzzzzz” Bakugo stupidly said

“Kiri? Bakugo?” You said, rubbing your tried eyes, still in one of the large collection of stolen shirts, looking like a huge mess

“Hey dumba-“ “Mornin’, Pebble!”

Kirishima made Bakugo help him make you breakfast, like before, eggs bacon and pancakes. He added a large amount of butter to grease the pan, so they were extra good.

You smiled and waxed to Bakugo as he walked out, just barely seeing him have a small smile at how happy Kirishima and you, two of his best friends, were together

After breakfast you had one of your normal “concerts” where you scream-sing to recent songs you’ve taken a liking to, recently being more trendy songs like “driver’s license” “snowman” and some more odd ones like “Hadal Ahbek” and “good at loving you”

You then go to every dog cafe and cat cafe you can run/walk to, each of you loving the bright and happy look on the others face seeing all the cute animals

You run alariund town, seeing and talking to other couples who honestly kinda envy how helathy and great your relationship is

At late noon you two went back to your apartment

You took a shower together cause you were both sweaty and smelly from running so much and the dog smell wore off on you

He loves when you help wash his hair, wcshing it from the front and kissing his forehead every once and a while

You two get out and change, wearing a shark and dog onsie because your amazing people

You have the dinners night you could ever have

Having adventure time aka the show that you and rewtcahed a thousand time playing softly in the background, tickling each other, giggling at weither or not the neighbors could hear, prank calling the Bakusquad, trying to make a good looking cake, failing bust at least it tasted good?

Overall the best night in you could have after a dog and running filled day

Mina

She wakes you up, a happy grin on her face because she knows you planned something; because you always talk about how you want to pay her back for being so good to you

She’s clearly excited and you grin, some how bigger than her, happy to see her so excited already

You lift yourself from bed, quickly covering her face in kisses before getting up and ordering Uber eats for breakfast

You took her to her favorite shop, a small known one right on the corner of a safe street, only having a villain go through every couple of months, if at all

It was a nice shop, being something that. Colorful animal prints, pro hero merch, etc…

It somehow even played her favorite songs, which isn’t as surprising as it should be because she usually listened to normal, trendy songs

You two bought what felt like the whole store, then went back home to have a good old fashioned at home fashion show

You giggle and laugh, at some point falling on the floor because of how she tried to make you laugh.

You stayed inside and goofed around for the rest of the day, which honestly wasn’t to long.

Around eight you gently tugged in her wrist. “Yeah honeybun? What’s up?” She said, still having a large smile plastered on her face

“Come outside with me for a second, okay? And let me cover your eyes!” You grin, her quickly nodding a yes.

You walk outside of the house, stopping right in front of the fence lining your yard.

You take your hands off her eyes, smiling at her loud gasp.

All of class 1-A, together, for the first time since you graduated. Of course there had been many times you tried to get everyone together again. But with how almost all of the class was in the top 50 hero’s, having Todorki Bakugo and Deku being the top three, Mineta being the only one not in the top 100, it was difficult.

“Y/n! I can’t believe you! This is amazing!”

She turns and hugs you, quickly going back and running towards the others, giving them all giant hugs and chanting how much she missed having them all together.

The class played board and video games, tackled each other, and drew faces on whoever fell asleep for the rest of the night.

They all slept at yours, it was a lucky barrels everyone could fit.

Before you two, the last ones awake, went to bed she turned you to her and kissed you.

“Thank you. This is better then I could’ve imagined. I love you so much, and I’m so glad Im going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Denki

You both woke on your own pretty much at the same time, Deki accidentally hitting you with his forearm when he moved to sit up.

You laugh, making him make breakaways for punishment. He, knowing you were still in bed and would probably prefer it over his crappy cooking, went out and got donuts

You did like it more then his *unexperienced* cooking

You were still pretty sleepy during and after breakfast, so he gave you the usually little shook to wake you up.

He goes to work because he was unlucky enough to be stuck on duty on VALENTINES DAY

but, he still wanted fro show you how much he loved you even when he was gone, so the night before you left tons of silly love notes around the house.

As you cleaned the house because it had been drover since your last off day to, you found notes around the house

Stupid stuff like “Love, you make my knees weak arms spaghetti” and “Do you believe in love at first sight? If not I need to walk by you again”

It made you laugh and blush, then continue to your normal cleaning

Once he got home, he looked tired and annoyed

“Babe you wouldn’t believe how sucky the boss was today-“ He started, ready for one of his normal rants. You pull his face down, kissing his forehead.

You hugged him tightly, running your hands through his hair. “I’m sorry. ‘Bout this, I missed you all day. Those notes were funny, and sweet. Thank you.”

He instantly melted to you, burying his head in your neck and mumbling a quick “it’s okay, I really like it…”

His breath was hot on your skin, and… oh god he fell asleep

You carried him to the couch, took his shoes off, blanket… the shebang

You made dinner quickly, not wanting to wake him or make him anywhere he could get annoyed again

Once all of dinner was ready and just needed to cool a bit, you tapped his shoulder to wake him up. He’s such a light sleeper.

“Huh? Sparky? What… where am I? Wasn’t I… wasn’t I being all, ya know, in love with you?” He said, face squished up on a throw pillow.

You chuckle. “Yeah, you fell asleep so I put you on the couch. Dinners cooling off, so yeah.”

He smiled up at you and got up, full of energy from the good nap. He sprung up and kissed your cheek as he walk-ran to the counter, wanting to find what you made

“My favorite!” He cheered with a large smile. “You remember everything! You most love me so much.”

“I do. And you love me lots as well.” You said, sitting on the counter.

You ate dinner like that, you sitting on the counter and him standing, probably talking to you even with a mouth full.

You two decided to go out by night, since you spent the whole day at home or work.

You go to bar but everyone is extremely drunk, so figure it’s best not to

You then go to a all-times Walmart, deciding tonight was a time to be crackheads

They take some carts and ride around the parking lot, inviting Kirishima and Sero to come be weirdos

They come in like 2 seconds

“YOOOOO CARTS” “CARTS MAN”

That’s my Ted Talk

Sero

He wakes you up by hanging off the ceiling, and tapping your back

“Huh? Oh, spidey.” You laugh, hopping off the bed as he sways on his tape.

“Was that a good aka up call, sweetheart?” He said s with a cheeky grin

“Yes, stupid.” You ruffle up his hair and go to brush your teeth, now used to not eating breakfast because neither does Sero

( worry he didn’t make you stop, you just got out of the habit stemming from him)

He kissed your cheek as he went off to water your small flower garden handing on the apartment balcony.

Once he came back, you two watched a few romance comedies and tried to find out what in the world you neared to do that day.

“Maybe… oh, we havnt gonna roller shaking in a while?” (I headcanon that Sero likes roller skating lol)

“That’s sound great. Maybe invite the gang? Or would you rather it just be us?” You tutored your head, away from the characters you didn’t really care for because neither of them were that good. At least the bad people go together.

“No, going with the gang sounds great! I’ll go call them and see if they’re free!” He said, climbing out of the nest you had made around you two.

When you got there most of the group was already there, everyone else coming only minutes after you.

You have a great time exhausting yourselves, Sero pulling you around with his tape, you using your quirk to go faster, and generally goofing around.

Once you get back to your shared apartment, your both tired out and ready to cuddle while on the edge of sleep, watching random shows on Netflix.

And you did just that, Sero just barely staying awake enough to turn the tv off right before he fell asleep.

Extra’s (aka ones that a simp for that are rarer)

Aoyama

He ADORES valentine day

He goes all out, the most cliche thing you could imagine

Chocolate, overly expensive roses, cards, the whole shebang

Ojiro

It’s not the biggest thing for him

Like, he loves you everyday and wants to express that everyday, why reserve one day for doing it but being extra with it?

Kinda just takes the day off and does the normal, but the whole day sorta thing

Like, take a walk, cooking together, cuddle a bit, normal stuff

Kouda

He tries his best

He thinks that the classic “be publicly affect, give lots of gifts” kinda thing

But he doesn’t like (aka has a burning hate) for pda

They say it’s fine that he doenst want to go out, and that they can stay in all day

Fin.





#mha #bnha #mha valentines #mha x reader #deku x reader #ochako x reader #tenya x reader #bakugo x reader #todorki x reader #denki x reader #sero hanta

[princessrainbows]

Genuine Laughter

Title: Genuine Laughter

Warnings: Mentions of; Depression, Suicidal thoughts/attempts(maybe?) Alcohol intake. (The reader is the depressed one out of the paring!!) Mention of the reader’s Quirk being Teleportation. Ends with fluff

Words: 2k+

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something for a while now. Seeing so many of the Keigo x reader blogs that I currently follow rn, has hugely inspired me to write up a small drabble!

Paring(s): Keigo Takami | Hawks x Fem! Reader

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             Depression is like battling a 200 foot Dragon every day. It’s not something so easy to overcome. Many people don’t even know when  somebody they know have depression whenever it’s brought up in a conversation.

They’ll think that everything is fine and dandy, and that the person who mentioned the mental illness is trying to find attention when, in reality...They just want to be loved, cared for, and helped. They don’t want their thoughts to be true, they want to be saved from them.

So, when you, ever so casually, mentioned that you felt like dying one day to Keigo, it caught him off guard. It really bothered him that somebody  so smart and so powerful just...Wanted to give it all up. “Hey hey, what’s the matter dove? Something bothering you” He asked, noticing that you where....Off, and have been for a long while now that he thought about it.

       That night stuck with you. The fact that he picked up on your casual self-loathing habits of talking about death so casually like that, surprised you to say the least. Most of the time, people around you would either scoff or just ignore you, or Meme your mental illness, thinking that’s what you wanted to do since, that’s what you’d always do to hide the pain you felt all the time.

Being a hero isn’t that easy. Especially with a quirk as powerful as your own, your in constant demand all the time. Always teleporting everywhere to save people and give back-up to pro-hero’s who need it. And now that you where sought out by The Commission people who raised Hawks, you’ve become his body guard so to speak. Sure, he might be fast, but, you can match up in speed thanks to your quirk.

So, not only are you in high demand, you never get to catch a break! Hell, you didn’t even want the spotlight! So, this made you start becoming depressed. You where so busy all the time. You barely got any real decent rest, you hardly have time to yourself for a nice bubble bath, or read a cool book.

You did your best to hide everything from everybody. You’d play it off and fake-laugh with people that would question whether or not you where really okay or mentally sane at the time of the conversation/interaction.

         But, you didn’t take into account for Hawks noticing it. He noticed everything. He noticed your facial expression visibly changing with every minute of the day depending on your mood. He’d notice the way you’d get snippy at different people if you’d woken up to a particularly bad mental day for you. He EVEN noticed that one day when you locked yourself up in your bedroom at his place around 8:30pm at night. He heard your weak sobs underneath the blanket.

The man was like a Dog with his hearing. he heard and saw everything. But, he knew that if he asked, you’d joke it off and turn down his help.

It wasn’t until when things got REALLY bad for you was when he stepped in and demanded that you explained everything to him. You had three drinks that night after poppin’ in quite a lot of Tylenol pills for your severe Migraine you where having that same day. You just wanted it to stop so you could be Okay for once.

After some prying, you finally told him what’s been happening. You told him that you’ve been battling with Depression and your Suicidal thoughts for the past several months. You even mentioned that your PTSD was starting to act up again, which just made things worse for you in the end.

He didn’t show any emotion. he just...Stared at you, in pure shock. You’ve been battling this battle by yourself this entire time that the two of you have been seeing each other, you’ve kept EVERYTHING to yourself until you blew up and tried ending it all.

It terrified him. He didn’t do anything out of worry that he might make it worse for you, but also, he felt like he should have done something, ANYTHING to have helped! “...Oh god........I’m so sorry” was all that he could really say before you passed out from being so damn tired, drunk, and dizzy from the Tylenol pills you took that day. Falling right into his lap, all he did was let you stay there and fall asleep.

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             That happened two months ago. You never really FULLY changed but, you noticed that you weren’t as bad as you where back then. Actually, you made a little chart marking down the Really Bad Days, from the Good/Okay days, and you’ve never had a single Really Bad Day since then. You’re days from two months ago to now have just been Meh/Okay and sometimes, even Good!

Today was different for you. When you woke up, it was around 11am, you felt...Light. Like as if you where floating in the air. But, it wasn’t a bad feeling by any means! Which lifted your spirits up quite a bit.

You reach to your cell phone and check your stuff, ignoring the majority of it except for Keigo’s messages (and selfies) and your Boss’ message, which woke you right out of bed! You blinked at it with your glasses on and notice a message from him: [”You’ve been invited to a Pro-Hero exclusive Gathering. Along with Hawks, Endervour, and many others. Dress nicely, and behave.”] Blinking several times, you groaned, falling back on the bed with an arm over your eyes, pouting in annoyance, “I hate fancy parties...” you sighed out loud.

Today was a really good day for you and your mental state. You weren’t smiling by any means but, you weren’t frowning either. You did your usual routine before heading out to work, since you’re with the Commission now and not some Hero agency, you’ve been given permission to have your own schedule (with the help from Hawks so that way he could keep an eye on you of course.)

“---And since I’m in a good mood today....I’ll give you a minute of a head start to try and run.” You say before grinning as you watched the group of bad guys try and flee with the stolen loot from the local store you where shopping at for a Brunch. “Too Slow..” You commented, teleporting right in front of them, grabbing the enemies uniforms and rolling your eyes as they tried running.

The police where called, and you where thanked for your efforts, “Wow! You look happy today y/n! Something happened?” The officer noticed your mood and commented on it, you shrugged, giving a slight chuckle, “Nothing in particular! I just feel good today that’s all~” you cheered before waving them off, seemingly having left them dumbfounded by your response.

           You had a really good day of just, doing whatever you wanted! Holding your drink in your hand with a small snack in the bag in your other hand, you walked by a clothing store with several outfits in the window. You noticed a very nice looking dress with a paired Tuxedo beside it, shrugging you walked into the store, you DID need a dress for tonight’s Por-Hero exclusive Gathering after all! Even if they weren’t your favorite thing to wear.

“Hi there miss! Welcome to our store! is there anything that I can do for you?” You where greeted by a worker who wore a very nice business suit, you took a pause from your drinking and looked at her outfit, “Actually...Yeah. Can I ask where you got that outfit? See, I’m heading to a fancy ball and stuff...But, I’m not that much of a Fancy Dress type of person.” You replied, gesturing your jaw at her outfit, as to not point since that would’ve been rude.

“Oh sure! We actually just recently added these types of outfits to out store so, we’d be happy to have a pro-hero wear one!....You are Pro-Hero Y/N correct?” You nodded in response, sipping on your drink. You followed the business woman to the stores selection and looked around...The shop was nice despite how cold it was.

It didn’t take you that long to find what you wanted. Coming out of the change room in front of the business woman, you stood there with a blows, a nice pair of black work pants, fancy black shoes, and a nice jacket to cover yourself with. Once you changed out of it and went to the cash, you purchased the outfit and thanked the woman for the help.

           You returned home with your now, not so hot Brunch and outfit in tow, getting ready for the fancy ball party for tonight while eating at the same time. You weren’t positive that you were going to have a good night but hey, you where invited! You couldn’t say no! Especially since you where in a good mood, you figured ‘eh, why not? Keigo’s gonna be there anyways so~’ and went with it.

A few hours had past, and it was time for the gathering. You rode in a somewhat fancy vehicle to the location of the party. Getting out of the car, you could already tell that eyes where on you. You ignored them, and thanked the driver and went into the building.

Using the elevator, you went up to the highest floor, which was a party room dedicated to pro-hero’s and their parties. You were slightly nervous since your mental state was still...Not exactly the best but, a lot better than a couple months ago. Putting those thoughts aside, you walked into the entrance area. You saw two doors both opened with two guards there, one stopped you and looked down, “Ma’am, this is a Pro-Hero party. Please show proof that you’ve been invited or we’ll have to remove you from the premise.” You sighed in annoyance, knowing that the guy was just doing his job. You pulled out your Hero License and showed it to him. He nodded and allowed you in.

Walking into the main area, you stood in awe, ‘They really went all out huh?’ You thought to yourself, staring up at the fancy decorations that seemed to blend in well with everything else in the room. You took in the atmosphere, not used to the Party life At All, staring off into the area as you listened to the soft music playing on the small stage area. “Wow! I didn’t think you’d show up of all people!” You hear a familiar voice from a loud woman behind you. Her grin was wide and she was excited to see more people coming to the party, “Yeah....The Commission had invited me over. I’m assuming it’s to keep an eye on hawks since he’s been invited as well...” You automatically noticed the wingless man near the farthest end, standing beside Endervour, laughing it up with the small group that gathered there for the night.

“...You know y/n. Most of the public knows your not a party person. Just imagine the press when they get a hold of this! ‘Y/N seen at a fancy Galla ball with Pro-Hero Hawks by her side!’ haha, they’ll get a good scoop for that one~” She chuckled, patting you on the back shoulders gently before walking towards the crowd giving them a wave. You groaned...You really hate the media being in your face all the time. So, something like this would DEFINITELY, be a pain in the ass to deal with.

----------------------------------------------------

                 The party continued on for the night, you talked and hung out with everybody at the party. You also did your job and reported to your boss at what was happening with Hawks, telling them that he was behaving well and having a blast. Once you sent in the report, you decided to spend the rest of the night with Keigo, walking up to the small group of pro-hero’s that he was telling a story too. “---And even tho I was trying to make the poor woman laugh, safe it to say, that didn’t help my situation at all. it just made the other’s more angry--” The group chuckled with him, and you just rolled your eyes.

The party went on like this for hours. By the time you where ready to go back home, it was around 12am. You and Keigo spent the last hour going home. He was just a tad bit drunk and a little bit silly as well, trying to handle him when he’s a bit drunk was hard but, you somehow managed.

“Hey.....Hey y/n....” He mumbled, trying his best to keep what little composure that he had left. “Yes Kei?” You asked, grunting while you placed him on your couch, grinning, he pulled you down into a cuddle, you didn’t mind it at all. Since you were quite tired from the party, having been out for a long time on your feet for the most part.

Keigo wasn’t really talking per say. He was mumbling random words in between some cute sweet nothings to you as he held you close to him. “Hey...y/n?.....” He whispered in your ear, first telling you how much he loved you...And then, telling you a silly joke that was, actually pretty funny! You couldn’t help but snicker then laugh in his chest, burying your face in it, you snorted off and on until you could breathe from the laughing again.

Keigo blinked in surprise. he managed to make you laugh.....Like, genuinely laugh at one of his jokes. He didn’t put any thought into it at all, he just went with it, and that made you laugh until you snort-laughed in his chest.

           This made your night. Just that one time with Keigo on the couch, making you laugh. You felt at ease, happy, even safe. You don’t want to forget this night, you want to cherish it for the rest of your life.

With Keigo being your partner, your depression and suicidal thoughts where a little bit easier to handle. Because you were no longer by yourself dealing with them anymore. You had Keigo to help. And you knew that this man would do anything to make your life, a little less painful to deal with.

#Uhhhh oops? #This wasn't supposed to be so long lmao? #hawks x Reader #hawks x y/n #depression mention #suicidal thoughts mention #attempt of suicide mention #I didn't get a beta reader bc I still wanna practice on my own before I get to that point #Mind you...If I do fanfictions like this. it won't be all the time.

[ofieugogyshz]

Drabble; Time Trials

Title: Time Trials

Word count: 2100

Summary: The time trials were announced on Pasio! Sarah debates participating, when eir husband Lance and his cousin Clair find em staring up at the leaderboards, unsure of eir decision.

Notes/Content warnings: No cw comes to mind. This isn’t a serious piece, mostly an experiment/practice to work on writing with ey/em pronouns, and to show what the relationship between me and Clair is like. No limited-pov narrator. Not yet proofread, so as to avoid fleshing it out into something more. Potential consistency issues.

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Sarah was standing outside the building that the time trial events were taking place. The scores were being shown on electric screens outside, as well as the best times on another set of screens. Some of the current and previous timed battles were being displayed on the rest of the screens, as though to entice trainers to try their hands at it.

Ey watched the screens, glancing over every so often at the ones for times and the other for scores. Leon, the Champion from Galar, was listed as the top score; right below him was Raihan, a Gym Leader from the same region as well. Below that were a mix of names ey did and didn't recognize; trainers and gym leaders and champions from other regions.

It looked like some trainers were going in groups of up to three people. The screen with the best times would change to show the best times among the single, double, and triples. Very few of the group times ranked above the best singles, and it wasn't hard to guess why. More opponents was harder to take down.  More opponents meant there was a higher chance of an offense-defense pairing, and or a pure defense team, and the more of those you ran into, the lower your times would be.

Although...

Ey looked up at the screens again. It didn't list the sync pair's Pokemon that were used in the best times, so unless you were familiar with them, or knew who their signature Pokemon was, you couldn't plan around them.

Sarah's Pikachu was getting bored with her trainer standing there. She knew ey was trying to decide on if ey wanted to join in or not, but the decision process was taking longer than usual—longer than it used to. If ey saw an event of any kind, ey would normally jump at the chance to try it. But now, here on Pasio, ey was hardly interested in participating in a lot of things. It was frustrating for Pika, because the more she saw the humans and Pokemon battle on screen, the more she was itching to jump in. Pasio was a place full of battles, and it was reigniting a spark in both trainer and Pokemon-- it just seemed to be taking longer for her trainer's spark to kindle.

“Hmm...” Ey had eir arms crossed, fingers tapping at an elbow, trying to decide. It would be a good way to get back into the swing of things, ey thought. But ey knew there was no way ey could get anywhere close to the best times, much less the top 100, with how many trainers Pasio had. There wasn't much point in competing if ey wasn't going to get close. But there was that tiny, determined voice that was always eager to try, even if it knew it was impossible. But then again... I'm not even interested in trying for the tournament. I'm just here because I wanted to see my husband.

As though on cue, Lance was walking with his cousin Clair towards the building that Sarah stood in front of. Ey hadn't noticed him; but his cousin had noticed eir, for he could feel her disposition change. A disgruntled noise, followed by a scoff under her breath. He knew about his cousin's dislike for his wife, but why that animosity was still there, even if mild, was beyond him. Still... An idea struck him.

“Sarah?”

Ey turned around to see Lance and his cousin. “Oh! Hi honey. And Clair.” Ey nodded towards eir in-law, who only made the barest acknowledgment of the greeting. Eir Pikachu perked up and waved towards the two dragon-type masters.

“Were you thinking about participating in the time trials?”

“Ah...” Ey glanced back up to look at the electronic leader boards. “...I don't know. Maybe? You know I'm not that competitive anymore,” ey said, trying to wave off eir discomfort. “I was curious to see what the times were like, 'cuz I heard that Leon's time was insane, and... well...” ey gestured to the board, where Leon's name was followed by the time of a minute and a half. “That definitely seems like a crazy impossible time. I don't think I've had battles that quick since I was traveling.”

Clair's eyes glanced up at the electronic boards. When she saw the time, she felt something in the pit of her stomach drop, but she scoffed and feigned confidence.

“A minute and a half? Please. I've beaten trainers in less than half a minute!” It was a boast, something that left a frown on her cousin's face, and an uncertain expression on his wife's. She quickly tried to smooth it over. “O-of course, those were all challengers that weren't ready for my gym! It's not something I'm particularly proud of, beating those people so easily!” she grumped, turning away so she didn't have to see their faces.

“Be that as it may,” Lance began, turning his attention back to his wife. “Would you like to join us? I'd be more than happy to have you on our team.”

“E-eh?” His wife faltered, unsure if ey should accept.

“WHAT?!” Clair quickly turned back to the conversation, all her frustration on display. She tried to quickly pick back up a proper disposition, but all she could do was huff her disagreement.

Lance turned towards Clair, a stern expression on his face.

“Is there a problem?” It was a challenge, daring his cousin to say anything unwell about his wife.

Clair finally recovered herself, and crossed her arms, breaking eye contact with Lance after a moment, deflecting the glare her reaction had earned her.

“Tch, I don't have a problem with adding a third person to our team. But it's a time trial. Shouldn't we pick someone who's still actively doing Pokemon battles? I don't want em to slow us down!”

Clair peeked a glance at her cousin and in-law to gauge their reactions from her words. She knew she couldn't get Lance to change his mind when it came to em, but she was hoping that her words might convince Sarah to not join them. Not that it would have been hard; her in-law and her had come to avoid interacting with each other whenever they could. And whenever Lance had asked Clair for a favor that involved her helping Sarah, the two in-laws tried to minimize the time spent around each other as much as possible.

Besides, she was trying to show her cousin how much she had improved. How could she do that if his wife was hanging around?

Alas, her words seemed to have only agitated her cousin more; he scowled at her, angry with her. Why was it so difficult to get the two of them to get along, he often wondered. At least it was no longer like the two of them clashing; Sarah had grown out of that when it came to his cousin, accepting that there was no changing her mind. And while Clair had accepted that Sarah was going to be part of the family tree, she still disliked em. The raging jealously over eir getting approval much easier than she ever did had waned to only a simmering dislike, but she couldn't fault em too much. Her cousin had spoken to her about it before the two married, and begrudgingly accepted the reasons for the differences. But that still didn't mean that she like em for it. It was unfair to her. Maybe if they had met before ey had met Lance, they could have been friends, or at least on a little better terms.

Still... the answer Clair had been a poor one, earning the wrath of her cousin; something that she could feel emanating off of him. He took a step towards his cousin, who carefully took a step back, trying not to show weakness but caution and past experience taught her otherwise.

“Sarah is more than capable of proving emselves in battle.” His voice was level, but Clair could pick up on the anger it held in check. “Ey is a quick thinker, and I believe ey will be able to keep up. If you think that might be a problem, then I suggest you to find a new team.”

Clair gulped.

Sarah grabbed eir husband's arm, embarrassed. “Sweetheart, please, it's fine. I can cheer you and Clair on. It's not a big deal--”

“It is a big deal,” he interrupted, looking back at em, his expression softening at eir. “It matters to me when someone talks ill of my wife. And I will not allow it.”

Ey stopped, eir face flushing softly as eir memory flashed back to eir youth. Terrible things ey said about emself, hurt and crying and frustrated. And how he wouldn't let em talk about eirself like that. Sarah's eyes watered now, the memory briefly awakened by his words. Ey fell silent, eir hand slowly falling until it rested next to his. Ey looked down at the ground, but a soft smile was on eir face. Ey nodded; there wasn't anything ey could say in response.

Right. That sickeningly sweet romance between them was part of why Clair didn't like em, but she kept that eww to herself. Even as a woman in her early thirties, that sort of weak spirit that came from getting too soft when one's partner was around had bothered her. And maybe that was why she hadn't kept one around for too long.

That thought was all but a flash reminder to her of her dislike and jealously towards Sarah, as Lance addressed her again.

“Well, Clair? Is it going to be an issue?”

Clair looked away, the pressure from his glare feeling as intense as any dragon's. It was more than enough to make her question herself—only for her to catch those thoughts and stop them. She shook her head to get rid of them; and it provided her answer too. She took a calming breath to give Lance a verbal answer.

“...No, it shouldn't be an issue,” she said. Resentment started to build, and she kept her cool this time, pushing it down... for now. “I'd be happy to have your wife on our team.”

“You don't have to lie about it,” Sarah muttered.

“Fine, sorry,” Clair grumbled.

Lance looked down at Sarah, then at Clair. Ey was right, but addressing the animosity Clair had never left a good taste in his mouth. He'd rather get this done and over with, so the three of them could work together and train for the time trials. It had been a long time since all three of them had trained together; he and Sarah were still dating at the time. Clair had said some harsh things, and Sarah had stormed off, angry and hurt. He didn't want a repeat of that; and hoped that they could behave themselves so as to avoid that.

Lance sighed. The tension he held slowly went away, and he addressed his cousin again.

“Are you really going to be cooperative on a team with my wife?”

“Tch, I can handle being around em for a few hours! It's not like you're asking us to be best friends.”

“Are you sure you're okay with that?” Sarah asked, looking at eir cousin-in-law. “I'd rather not get involved if you two were going at this seriously.”

Clair gave Sarah a hard stare. How could her cousin marry someone so weak-willed? Or, she didn't remember em being so weak-willed.

It annoyed her.

“Well, pick or choose if you're going to join us or not! We're going all in, so if you're not interested in that, then I suggest you back out now.”

“Clair!” Lance snapped.

Sarah could feel Lance squeeze eir hand. Ey knew how important it was to him, to both cousins, that one make a decision and commit to it. It didn't seem like he wanted em to leave, at least not because of his cousin's words. Sarah looked up at the electronic boards again, watching it scroll down the best times for a three-person group. Somehow, the times listed now seemed too slow. Battling alongside the two of them, and eir desire to do eir best, stirred up that little voice from earlier, that told em it could be possible. To give it a chance. Maybe ey might surprise emself, if ey tried.

“...You know what? Sure, I'll give it a try. It might be fun to battle like that.”

“'A try'?” Clair repeated. “I'm not interested in trying, I'm interested in winning!”

“Well, good thing I like to win, too. Let's do this!”

Lance found himself thinking that it would go better this time.

#writing #i'm not tagging official tags cuz it's just a dinky little drabble to experiment with #i haven't even read it back so there are probably errors #pasio au #my champion #tsundere cousin #fun fact: this is my 8001 post

[azurethevampire]

Not Alone

A/N: Happy Holidays to you all!

I recently found the tv show Peaky Blinders and me being me, I created my own character into the fandom during the very first episode. This was meant to be an introduction of sorts to that oc of mine but I decided this works just fine as a reader insert fic. Now, because I'm currently on episode 2 of season 2, there's bound to be mistakes and I hope I have made the characters even some justice. 

For what's it worth, I know nothing of Christmas traditions in the Shelby family so in this they just have a nice family dinner whereas the reader has spent their holidays quite differently before.

The reader is a child in Tommy Shelby’s care.

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Title: Not alone - a Christmas story of sorts

Summary: There is supposed to be a family dinner but you are nowhere to be found. Tommy is not happy. It's up to him to search you and find out why you made a run for it.

Warning: There are some curse words and talk of a person’s death by beating but nothing graphically described! 

Words: 2289

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Secretly, Tommy enjoyed this time of the year and especially this day, Christmas Eve. Everyone in the family had been busy with something or the other lately so there had not been many occasions when they all would be gathered into the same place for any other purpose than to speak about business. 

Today was the one day, one night when none of them was allowed to speak about business and the whole family would be around the same dinner table. And Tommy found the idea surprisingly relaxing this year. 

All thoughts of relaxation blew from Thomas Shelby's mind the second he stepped inside their home. His Aunt Polly greeted him at the door with an alarming look on her face. 

"What now?" Tommy asked, his voice strained like he didn't actually want to know the answer. 

"It's the bloody girl, that's what now!" Came the voice of the eldest Shelby brother. Tommy frowned, turning to face his brother who seemed almost ready to beat someone. 

Polly pushed Arthur inside. "Calm down, you idiot!" The oldest brother looked ready to protest but one look from the younger Shelby man made him huff and turn on his heels to march somewhere else in the house. 

"We can't find Y/N. She's nowhere in the house", Polly said. 

Tommy's lips tightened to a thin line. What the fuck was going on in that child's head?! If it had been any other time he wouldn't worry that much because he knew that despite you being only just shy of eleven, you could handle yourself better than most boys your age. However, lately, there had been some… disagreements in the area between some people. Because of this you, Finn and even Ada had been strictly forbidden from going out of the house after dark without one of the brothers or Polly.

Placing his cap back on, Tommy placed a reassuring hand on Polly's arm. "I'll find her. She can't have gone that far." With that, he stepped back outside. 

Now, if I were a little girl, where would I go, Tommy thought. Fortunately, he knew you better than you cared to admit and it didn't take the man long to make his way to the stables. 

A faint, flickering light shone from an empty stall in the back and Tommy made his way over in brisk space. He had every intention of getting you and showing you right then and there what exactly he thought about your disappearing act. Once he got you in his sight, every thought of punishments seemed to vanish for the time being. 

You were hugging yourself in the back corner of the stall, a candle half-burnt in front of you the only source of light. Even in the little light, Tommy could see the tears staining your cheeks. Had someone got to you, hurt you?

"Y/N, what's the matter?" 

 Not hearing Tommy get in, you got startled by his voice and looked up at him with wide eyes. You knew you'd be in trouble for leaving the house but you had sort of hoped the Shelbys wouldn't notice your absence this quickly. Trouble or not, you had no intentions of going back just yet. Averting your gaze and turning your head down to stare at the small flame, you said something so quietly that Tommy wasn't sure he heard you correctly. 

"Mind repeating that?" 

You shouldn't have. The change in the leader of Peaky Blinders' tone should have been enough to shake you out of whatever frenzy you had gone into. This time, you were having none of it. Thomas had walked in on you at the moment you had felt most vulnerable and you hated it. Hated yourself for giving in to tears. So, you told the head of Shelby family exactly what was on your mind. 

"Like you fucking care. Leave me alone", you repeated, a hard edge in your voice that you didn't know yourself you could muster up in the first place. 

You kept your eyes still away from him so you didn't have much of a chance to try and avoid the hand that suddenly grasped your arm in a vice-like grip. You let out a yelp as Tommy in one rough movement pulled you on your feet, stomping on the candle in the process so that the stick snapped in half and the flame died out. His other hand went to the back of your head, squeezing just enough that it didn't hurt but made you feel uncomfortable. 

"What the hell, Y/N?" He gave your shoulder a shake. 

The gravity of the situation started to dawn on you just then. You were so deep in trouble you didn't have words for it. No one talked back to Tommy the way you had. Not without serious consequences. 

"I know you know you're not allowed out alone after dark, so I'm going to ask this only once, and you better have a damn good reason for this - what are you doing here, Y/N?" 

You didn't know how to explain. Not in a way that Tommy would understand. So, you stayed silent, eyes cast down while the pressure on the back of your neck increased. 

Tommy started to be beyond angry now. Fine, if you wouldn't cooperate, he would teach you some manners, alright. "If that's how it's gonna be", he said darkly. You felt your chest tighten at the thought of the punishment Tommy would no doubt lash down to you. Taking a firm hold of your wrist, Tommy started to pull you with him. That seemed to get some life back to you. You tried to dig your heels into the ground to slow you down but soon you were out of the stall and near the exit of the stables. Panic flooded you. 

"No, wait!" You struggled in the hold of the man who had been like a brother to you from the day you were born.  

Tommy didn't relent, instead, he seemed to get tired of your resistance as he suddenly turned on his heels, and picking you up from the waist, he hoisted you over his shoulder. "You had your chance, princess." 

You felt your eyes burn as you gave up. "It was for Steve", you said, sniffing. 

Tommy went still. You could hear the shakier breath he took before muttering a few curse words. Steve had been your brother. When you were only a few months old your parents had died and your older brother had stepped up to take on the task of raising you. Your brother and Thomas Shelby along with Freddie Thorne had grown up together. When they went to war together, you had been left into the care of Peaky Blinders. When the war ended, none of the men came back the same. Your brother… he took it heavier than most. Ever since coming back from France, Steve had been getting weaker and weaker, growing more ill by every day that passed. Until, just a few months ago, your brother had been killed. Tommy and the rest of the Shelbys, save maybe Finn, knew who was responsible for your brother's death, but they didn't share the information with you. All you knew, was that some men came to your apartment and started beating the life out of your brother. You had managed to escape by biting the man who had been holding you, and you had run straight to Tommy. 

The Peaky Blinders were quick to get to your place, but Steve, who had already been weak in health, couldn't get over the beating. He had died a few hours later to his wounds. Steve and Thomas had made an agreement, unknown to you at the time, that should anything happen to your brother, the leader of the gang would take you to be his ward. You were relieved, of course, that you didn't have to leave the place you had grown up in and live with some strangers. Poor circumstances aside, you had liked living with Polly, Ada and Finn when the men were fighting in the war. But now? Everything was different. Tommy and the rest of the Shelby brothers were home and you had trouble settling in. You were an outsider in the tight-knitted family of blood and kin - and you were neither. 

Somehow, everything had been harder the closer Christmas came. Everything had felt… darker in ways you had never imagined you could feel. You missed your brother. 

Thomas put you back down on your feet and placing both his hands on your shoulders, he lowered himself to be at an eye-level with you. There was a hard edge on those blue eyes, one that you had seen many times before, but you also saw the barest hint of something else. Something that you - despite being just a child - knew not many, if anyone, saw in Tommy, especially these days. 

"You miss him, eh?" Even though the question was presented in a rhetorical way, you tilted your head to nod. Of course, you missed Steve. He had been your brother.  

Tommy heaved a sigh. “Is that why you choose today of all days to pull this escape act?” 

You hesitated. “No”, you admitted. “It’s a family night”, you continued more quietly, turning your head away. 

“Yeah, it is. So, Y/N, explain to me once again why you are not home with the rest of us.”

Your throat seemed to tighten up. “Yeah, well, I’m not family, am I?” You managed to choke out. 

Ah, so this is what this is about, Tommy thought. Taking a surprisingly gentle yet firm hold of your chin, he turned your head to look at him. “Listen to me carefully now”, Tommy began, “because I’m not going to repeat myself. You are a part of this family now, Y/N, whether you like it or not, and whatever it is that is going on in that stubborn head of yours, you’re going to forget it, come home and sit down to the dinner table with us.” 

Tommy’s words served to ease some of the tightness in your chest. You couldn’t help what you did next - you leapt forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. “But, Finn said-” you started to utter. 

“Finn? Since when has he had a say in anything that I have already decided?” Tommy pushed you back to look at you and interrupted sharply. 

“Never, but he said that this night was for family and since I’m not a Shelby, I shouldn’t be there… and I missed the holiday traditions we used to do with Steve… and it all just became too much, and - I’m sorry, Tommy!” You finally cried, the dam of tears bursting.

“Maybe you are not a Shelby by blood, but you have been family since the day I signed the papers.” 

You frowned. “What, what papers?” 

“The papers that say I’m your legal guardian.” 

You looked at him with wide eyes. All this time you had figured out that the agreement between your brother and Thomas Shelby had been purely verbal and not official in any way. All this time, there had been a small part of you fearing the day some police officer or parish workers would drag you away from Birmingham. You had never asked Tommy much about the agreement because you didn’t want to bother him or seem ungrateful for the fact that he had taken you in. But. Had you heard the man right? Were you really his, proper and legal? 

"Come on, what would Steve say if he saw you know, eh? All teary-eyed, and misbehaving on Christmas Eve of all days", Tommy said, the barest hint of teasing in his voice. He placed his hand back to your neck and pulled you forward until your foreheads were touching. "You are not alone, Y/N. Remember that." 

You sniffed and grabbed a fistful of his jacket as best as you could. "I will try", you promised. You then pulled back from him and wiped your cheeks with your hands. "How much trouble am I in?" You asked quietly, biting down on your lip. 

Tommy stood up and looked down at you. Your red eyes from the crying and the sadness, anxiety and the bit of innocence still left in you that shone from within you. He didn't want you to lose that last bit just yet. Besides, he knew how much your Christmas traditions had meant to you and Steve. Maybe, just this one time, he could let you off the hook. 

Offering you his hand, Tommy shook his head and ruffled your hair with his other hand. "Come home with me and you are off the hook - and I'll have a word with Finn, alright?" 

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded and took the hand offered to you. As you made your way back to the house, you leaned on Tommy in a way you had never done before. 

Surely, the family dinner with the Shelbys differed in more ways than one from the customs you had had with your brother, but in the end, you realised it didn't matter. You still honoured the memory of your brother and you would never forget the holidays you two had spent together, just the two of you, but it was time for you to move on with your life. After all, what really mattered during this time of the year was that you were not alone. 

You were not alone or an outsider, and every single member of the family - even Finn - made sure to show you that you were exactly that; you were family.

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #reader fic #sister!reader #well sort of #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #child!reader #child reader #platonic reader #polly shelby #polly gray #arthur shelby #ada shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #fanfic #mine #original character #christmas fic #sort of #gif not mine #idk what to tag lol

[nexttrickanvils]

FE3H Fic: Stay With Me

So I’ve had this idea for a while and I’d been sick and miserable this week so I figured that was as good a reason as any to finally write this. Enjoy some sickfic.

Title: Stay With Me

Characters: F!Byleth Eisner, Claude Von Reigan, brief appearances by the rest of the Golden Deer, Manuela Casagranda

Ship: F!Byleth x Claude

Notes: Sickfic, spoilers for Chapter 9, Academy phase/pre-time skip, nothing super romantic aside from some face touching and pining.

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They should have known something was wrong.

He should have known something was wrong.

It was obvious that Jeralt’s death had hit Teach hard but Claude and the rest of the Golden Deer didn’t realize just how hard until now.

Teach seemed sluggish during today’s class, Hilda had to point out to her when someone asked a question multiple times, and there were moments where she seemingly forgot what she was saying in the first place.

Claude couldn’t help but worry.

“Hey Teach, maybe we should end class early. You don’t seem like you’re really into the material today.” He said in a lighthearted tone

She gave a look that Claude thinks was supposed to be a glare but he’s not entirely sure.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re planning Claude but we will finish when the bell rings as usual.”

Lysithea spoke up, “Actually Professor, I agree with Claude. You don’t seem well...”

“I’M FINE!” Teach shouted in response

Everyone stared at her in concern, none of the Golden Deer had ever seen her snap at a student like that. Teach seemed to be lucid enough to recognize what she did and gave an apologetic look.

“I-I apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… I… I’m… ugh… my head...”

Claude stood up from his seat and walked towards her.

“Teach, it’s okay. Nobody’s gonna be mad at you for taking a day off...”

“Cla… sta… uhhh.”

Teach seemed to wobble on her feet and then immediately collapsed, Claude quickly catching her before she hit the ground. Right away, he could feel her burning up in his arms.

“Someone get Manuela! Raph, help me carry Teach to her room!”

Marianne and Raphael rushed over to the two of them while the rest ran to go find Professor Manuela.

Raphael gently lifted up Teach from Claude’s arms and quickly carried her to the dormitories with Marianne and Claude following behind.

When they finally arrived at Teach’s room, Raphael slowly laid their professor on top of her bed. Marianne for her part, took the chair at the desk, and sat down next to the bed as she sent pulse after pulse of healing magic to Teach. While Marianne’s magic can’t cure the illness, it could at least ease the discomfort.

Meanwhile all Claude could think of was any other moments when Teach seemed off. Now that he thinks about it, he hadn’t really seen her taking it easy since Jeralt’s death. Usually he’d find her fishing or volunteering in the greenhouse or even helping the kitchen staff between lessons and training. But lately if she wasn’t teaching, she was training and if she wasn’t training, she was teaching.

‘Dammit, Teach. Why didn’t you say anything? How did we… how did I not notice…’

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Deer arrived with Manuela, who proceeded to shoo everyone out (though not before thanking Marianne for her help.)

“I guess all we can do is wait.” Remarked Hilda in a quiet tone

The others nodded and went their separate ways for now… all except Claude.

Instead of walking away, Claude went back to Teach’s door and sat down next to it. Through the door, he could hear fabric shifting (Manuela probably getting Teach out of her armor and into something more comfortable) along with some worried mumbling.

“Hanneman and I told you that we’d be willing to handle the workload for you. How did you get yourself into a state like this?”

Guess Claude and the Deer weren’t the only ones that Teach was hiding from.

Suddenly the door swung open and Manuela walked out, maybe she was getting something from the infirmary or some food for Teach.

Well whatever the reason, the door was wide open…

Once he was sure that no one else was around that could see, Claude slipped into the room and immediately saw Teach under a couple layers of blankets. If it weren’t for her heavy breathing and the red in her face, one would have thought she was just sleeping.

Claude sighs and begins to turn around. He really shouldn’t be staying in here, Manuela will probably be back soon and she’ll take better care of Teach than Claude could just standing and staring like an idi…

“Claude?”

At the sound of his name, Claude turns around and sees Teach looking at him with hazy unfocused eyes.

“Uh… hey Teach… y-you gave us all quite the scare earlier but uh… glad to see you’re still with us? I guess? I should really head out and...”

“Please… don’t leave...”

Claude stared at her… delirious, she was delirious that had to be it. But if she really is delirious wouldn’t it be worse to leave her alone?

Without thinking twice, Claude sat down in the chair next to the bed and offered his hand. He watched as Teach slowly reached for it. Despite her current state, her grip on his hand was tight. He could also feel her trying to tug him closer, so he moved himself and the chair closer and closer till his knees bumped into the bed.

At that point, Teach pulled his hand close to her face and rested against his palm. Claude could feel his cheeks heating up and turning red. If he wasn’t afraid that he’d accidentally drag her off the bed, he would have pulled his hand away.

“T-Teach?”

“Please stay… I don’t want… I don’t want to lose anyone else...” She said as tears began to well up in her eyes

Oh… okay… he sees how this is…

Claude relaxes and even swipes his thumb to catch her falling tears.

“It’s okay Teach… I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

He hears a small hiccup as she continues to cry.

“I… I couldn’t save him… I wasn’t… wasn’t fast enough… strong enough… tried to turn back and...”

“Tried to turn…? Teach, it wasn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself and training yourself to exhaustion isn’t going to help.”

“It hurts… it hurts so much and… and… what if I lose you too?”

Claude gives her a comforting smile, “I’m a big boy, Teach, you don’t have to protect me.”

“But you’re...”

“Your student, I know...”

“No… you’re… you’re special to me...”

Claude’s eyes widened at her statement. She didn’t really mean that right? It was just the delirium… right?

Before he could say anything else, Teach lifted up her other hand and placed it on his cheek. Claude feels himself tense up, again afraid to move, as she starts to caress his blushing face. He sees the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

“You’re… a friend...”

A friend… y-yeah… of course that’s what she meant and she’s just feeling a little extra touchy-feely because she’s sick and grieving and vulnerable…

That thought doesn’t stop him from leaning into her touch.

“Eh heh… I’m uh… flattered. I consider you a… a friend too.”

Honestly… she’s become that and more to him… and it only took him till the Ball to realize what that really meant.

“Promise me… promise me you’ll be okay… promise you won’t leave...”

He knows he can’t promise her that but…

“I promise… just as long as you promise to take better care of yourself. I can’t stay by your bed all day you know. Now come on, go rest.”

Teach lets out a small laughing huff as she finally pulls her hands back. After a minute or two, she closes her eyes. Claude gently brushes a few strands of hair from her face and stands up… and is immediately greeted by Manuela holding a bowl of water and some towels.

“Oh! Professor Manuela… thanks for taking care of Teach… I just wanted to check up on her and… how… how long have you been standing there?”

“Around the time you were assuring her that Jeralt’s death wasn’t her fault. Don’t worry Claude, I know you’re not the kind of cad that would take advantage of an ailing woman.”

“Eh heh heh… thanks?”

Claude steps aside as Manuela walks in and places the bowl on the nightstand.

“I do have to say though: I’m glad she has you.” She remarked

“What do you mean?”

“You had to admit that Byleth was bit of an odd one when she first arrived; very curt and to the point, wasn’t very expressive. I know mercenaries tend to steel themselves for their work but still… I couldn’t help but worry if there were times where Byleth forgot that she’s still human.”

Claude stayed quiet; he couldn’t really tell Manuela the truth that he and Teach discovered in Jeralt’s journal. That she lacked a heartbeat. That even as a baby she didn’t cry or laugh or smile.

Manuela continued as she dampened one of the towels.

“But I did notice her changing over the year and honestly I think the brightest I’ve seen her smile is when she’s with her students. I suppose you all made quite an impact on her, especially you in particular Claude. So thank you for being there for her.”

Claude could feel the blush returning to his face as he tried to put his carefree mask back on.

“Yeah that’s the Golden Deer for ya, making an impact. I… uh… I should head out, let you work in peace. Let me… I mean let us know when Teach starts feeling better. Thanks again, Professor.”

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was getting rusty or if Manuela was more observant that he gave her credit for but Claude could tell she didn’t quite buy his little act.

“Alright, you have a good day, Claude.” Manuela replied with a smile and a wink

Claude stepped out of the room and slowly and carefully closed the door. Once he was sure the door was closed, Claude ran.

He got some stares from other students but at the moment, he didn’t care. When he finally reached his room, Claude shut the door and sank down against it.

“...You’re special to me...”

He trusts her… he loves her… he knows that.

“I suppose you all made quite an impact on her, especially you in particular Claude.”

Claude shakes his head, Teach said she saw him as a friend and besides he’s still her student. While he’s more than happy to break some rules, this is a boundary he feels he shouldn’t cross.

...And yet…

“...Promise you won’t leave...”

Maybe Byleth needed Claude as much as he needed her...

#Fire Emblem Three Houses #Claudeleth #Claude Von Riegan #Byleth Eisner #Female!Byleth #Anvil Writings #OTP: With everything that I am

[englass]

Oh, could I request John letting the deputy hold him because he understands she's going though a lot atm. :^) thanks for reading.

No worries hun! Thanks for sending this in! 😁 It took a while, but I had fun with it nonetheless. Kind of ended up running away with the idea, but I hope you enjoy it!

– – –

When Rook had gotten in that plane, as prepared as she could be with a freshly tattooed chest and a determined glare for the dogfight that was about to go down, she hadn’t exactly considered what could happen.

Sure, she hoped that she’d win. That she would finally free the Valley from the tyranny of John Seed by the end of it all, knocking him off of his high horse, and hopefully without that much bloodshed if at all possible.

But what she hadn’t considered was if things went wrong.

With a strangled gasp Rook hobbles toward the panting John Seed, his tailored clothes scuffed and dirtied, as he rests against the trunk of a tree. Eyes closed and head tipped back with both hands in his lap, radio tossed and abandoned at his side. Despite his ruffled appearance anyone would think that he just did a lap around his airstrip instead of get in a literal, and verbal, dogfight with somebody. He near enough looks unharmed.

Lucky prick.

Rook stares at her nemesis, usually groomed hair now tussled, before leaning heavily against the same tree that he’s up against. Sliding down until she’s sitting next to him and mirroring his actions; head tilted skyward with eyes closed, pained groans slipping through stilted breaths every now and again.

Despite sitting next to the infamous ‘reaper’ of the Valley, Rook can’t help but feel nothing but calm, strangely content as the warm afternoon sunlight flitters through the gaps in the leaves above, shinning down on the both of them with speckled light. Considering how cold it’s gotten the warmth is a welcome blanket for the shaky Deputy.

“Ya know,” she starts with a wince, holding her side, “despite it all, that was actually kinda fun.” There’s a fractured laugh underling her tone, mirth trying to break through even as she sucks in a stuttered breath between gritted teeth.

John scoffs, not even sparing her a glance, “I think you need to rework your definition of ‘fun’, my dear Wrath.”

“Says you,” she says accusingly, “I hardly think you’re one to talk, what with the type of stuff that you do to people.”

“What I do, Deputy, is not for my own pleasure, but for the salvation of sinners like yourself,” he replies with a snip. “I have told you this numerous times and yet, even in the wake of your atonement, you would rather still be barred from the Gates of Eden and condemned to an eternal damnation than swallow that filthy pride of yours. I only want to help you, Deputy, to give you a new and better life amongst the project; if only you would just say yes.”

“Oh leave off, John,” Rook whines, “I’d rather not talk about atonement and crap while I lay here dying.”

“Oh please,” John grouses, finally looking toward her, “like you’re actually–” he pauses, words dissolving on his tongue like powered tablet. His ocean eyes going wide as they glue themselves to the jagged piece of metal sticking out of her side; crimson painting her shirt, staining the hand that presses under the metal with a noticeable tremble, a vivid red.

“Huh, that bad eh?” Rook weakly jokes, watching the emotions dance hectically across his face, changing as quickly as the current, before looking skyward once again, pointedly refusing to look down at herself. She winces at a jolt of pain. “That’s reassuring.”

“Deputy...” the youngest Seed flounders, unable to look away from the sight she makes; caught in a trance as any harboured animosity fades to ash. There’s no way the Deputy – his deputy – could be dying, there‘s just no way. A piece of metal couldn’t stop them, surly. They’ve been through worse than this, he knows they have. He can’t lose them now that he’s finally got them, that wouldn’t be fair. That’s not fair...

John’s quick to snap back to reality when he hears the Deputy gasp, her free hand pressing into the ground beside him as she attempts to move herself.

John doesn’t spare a thought before he’s grabbing her.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hisses in a rush, “stop moving, you will only make it worse!”

“A little late for that, I‘d say,” she grumbles lowly. “Now let go, I’m hardly going anywhere.”

Really such a fact should’ve had John vibrating, excitement twisted into something cruel and consuming, but he finds himself feeling the furthest from that than what he ever thought he might do. Seeing the Deputy like this was making him feel rather ill, a nasty sensation curling low within the pit of his stomach.

Also, were they always that pale?

So focused on his own conflicted thoughts and absent observations, John doesn’t notice when the Deputy edges a little closer to him; shimmying into his side.

With a whimper Rook moves her free arm, slipping it behind and around John’s back to grip and hold as much of his jacket as she can. Her head falling heavily to rest on his shoulder with a pained sigh.

John freezes at the touch, the familiarness of it making him feel a touch uneasy; a tad nervous. He doesn’t remember the last time someone had held him in such a way, if ever at all even. It’s completely foreign to him. And he especially never expected this type of gesture from the elusive deputy of all people, despite how much he might of dreamed and secretly hoped for it on lonely nights with only his hand for company.

But, even more so, he never envisioned a situation like this – so potentially dire – to be the one where his dreams finally became a reality. Or at least as close as he was possibly going to get them to reality anyway.

What a living nightmare this day was turning out to be.

“What are you doing?” The question is a lot quieter this time around; softer than he intends it. A breath of a secret shared between friends, or unrequited lovers.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dying, John,” Rook tells him bluntly, gaze distant and watery as her grip grows tighter, “and believe it or not, I’m actually really fucking scared right now, so if you could just shut up and let me find at least a little bit of comfort in you before I die then that’d be great.”

There’s a weighted pause filled only with the shimmering of leaves and unsteady breaths.

“Comfort, from me?” The baptist jokes derisively, “you really must be scared then...”

Yet, despite his tone, Rook can still hear the unintentional lilt of hope that’s layered within the question. The hope that maybe she, or anyone really, could want something so simple yet meaningful from him; something so soft and genuine.

And, not for the first time, Rook can’t help but feel sorry for the complicated man next to her. Memories of her makeshift baptism, the look on his face as Joseph walked away from him, fluttering to the forefront of her mind. If only life had given him a better hand.

“Yes, John. Even from you.”

There’s a broken sound that comes from him, a whine or a laugh she isn’t sure. Yet, the sound quickly slips from her mind when she feels his own arm come around to grip her shoulder, hesitant at first before hugging her closer, his head gently leaning to rest on top of hers.

The hand gripping his jacket is covered by his own, pulling her away – she whimpers pitifully at the movement, weakly holding on, “shh, it’s okay, Deputy. I’ve got you” – only to draw her hand up to his face. Fingers interlaced he kisses the palm of her hand before placing it over his chest, holding it there as his thumb brushes back and forth in a soothing motion; a silent reassurance.

If someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d be hugging John Seed after being impaled by a piece of plane shrapnel, she likely would have scoffed and sarcastically entertained them. If not straight up laughed at them. Funny, she supposes, how life’s turned out for her.

“You’re not going to die, by the way,” John suddenly says, breaking the hush that had fallen between them, “I won’t let you.”

Once upon a time, Rook might have rolled her eyes at how childish he sounds, a little kid getting ready to throw a strop. However, the Deputy has had enough interactions with John Seed by this point to be able to gleam when he’s being serious.

It’s a little scary in its own right, hearing that cold shift that sends chills down her spine, but ultimately she decides to ignore his self-made promise. There’s nothing she can say to it.

“I hope I don’t,” Rook says honestly, “there’s still stuff I wanted to do.”

“Like what?” He asks conversationally.

The Deputy huffs around a laugh, weak and slightly derogatory, “it’s stupid really, but would you believe me if I said that I wanted to get married?”

“Married?” John’s chest does something funny at the thought. “You? Forgive me, deputy, but you hardly seem the type.”

“Wow, really? No offence John-no, but you do realise that I’m more than just a Deputy wrecking your shit, right? I have dreams and hopes for the future too, ya know? And besides, what do you know; you don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

“But enough isn’t a full picture, is it?” For a moment the Deputy goes quiet, and John can practically taste the bubbling bitterness in her next words. “How old am I, what’s my favourite colour, my favourite film; what was my first car, my first pet. Hell, does anyone even know my name...?”

It’s embarrassing really, allowing something so small and arguably petty to colour her the way it does, but if she really is about to die then surly now is as good a time as any to get her grudges and grievances out there. Confess, as John would put it it. After all, she’s done so much for everyone, got so much blood staining her hands (both figuratively and literally), and yet not one person has even asked for her name.

She’s a title, she knows that, has since this whole thing started, but bleeding out has a way of forcing things into perspective it seems. She’s going to die in the arms of her greatest enemy and no one is even going to be able to mark the grave because no one even knows her fucking–

She stills; tenses. Breath catching as she does so, but she pays the pain it causes no mind. Focusing only on the ring of John’s voice, his tongue curling around a name she didn’t think she’d ever hear again from another; didn’t think he even knew. Just how did he...?

“... what?” She sounds so small, so much like she did as a child, but she doesn’t care. Did he really just...

He pulls her closer, turns slightly to whisper her full name into her hair, lips brushing against her lightly as he does so. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

Rook sniffles, her breaths quickly becoming shallow and shaky as she presses further into John, burying her face as far into his neck as she possibly can. Hiding herself as tears begin to trail down her cheeks in lonely streams. Her retort is weak and warbled.

“Shut up.”

And, surprisingly, John does.

Although it might not be ideal, not at all how he hoped for them to come together, but for the first time since he can remember John feels what he believes to be genuine content. More than happy to offer his deputy all that he can give them in this uncertain, but surly fated, moment. This had to be destiny at play, he was certain of it. This was meant to happen.

And as he listens to her cry quietly, feels her sag and flinch in pain and anguish against him, waiting for his followers to hurry up and find them, not once does his hand let go of hers.

#i hope it’s okay? #i wanted something kinda sad but comforting #also #i hate dialogue #but i’m trying to get better at it #doubt i’m succeeding mind you #but i’m trying #my gorgeous murder husband #john seed #john seed x female deputy #john seed x deputy #john seed x rook #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #anonymous #request

[gotboredwrote]

I’ll Keep You Alive // RMT

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Medical discussions including seasonal allergies/appendicitis (w/blood added in), angst, fluff, swearing Summary: Just because he’s in a band that’s doing really well doesn’t mean Roger doesn’t care about what he used to study. No, he doesn’t want to be a dentist, but he still remembers a bunch of stuff from his biology studies. Little does he know, he would be putting it to use on tour. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: Request/idea from @bensrhapsody, but changed a little bit to better fit what I feel comfortable writing (I got permission, don’t worry). Also, I have her to thank for the title partially as well because I’m a dumb dumb who can write the story but not the title. Never written for Roger before, so hopefully this is up all your alley’s, Roger-stans! (#dontcomeaftermeifitsbad #please #rememberimadeakybabe)

Masterlist

~

Being a roadie had its perks, sure. For one, you got to get close and personal to bands that you otherwise would never be able to afford to see live. Among other things, you got to travel the world, get in shape from moving around so much, and you got paid to top it all off. Not such a bad gig, if you were the one being asked. You had gone on one tour with Queen before, and they liked you enough to ask you to come back for a second one. Of course you took the job, it was never a dull day around the four of them. They each had such distinct personalities, and despite being literal rock gods, all four were wildly smart. Each in different realms, too. Which came in handy from day to day. Brian could tell by the look of the night sky before if the weather was going to be good or bad, John could always help with any tech that broke or malfunctioned, Freddie was a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy, so he helped out where he could, and if anyone was ever not feeling good, Roger could usually tell them what they needed to feel better easily, cheaply, and quickly. You hated feeling like a bother, but one day, you seriously needed Roger’s help, because you feared for your life.

~

[flashback start]

You knew first hand that Roger was really good at helping people get better when they fell ill. On the first tour you went with them, your allergies started kicking in towards the end of the tour, considering it ended in April that year. You were almost debilitated because your body was taking in new pollens and whatnot that it was not used to defending off. Your body was trying its best, but in the end, it was futile because you fell ill anyway. To top it all off, you forgot to pack your usual allergy medication, so you had nothing to help you fend off the sneezing and coughing. Obviously, you really could not hide being sick. Someone will pick up on it, whether the tone of your voice is one octave lower than usual or they hear you sneeze six times in a row. One night, it got really bad, and you were having choking fits every single time you came close to drifting into a slumber, promptly waking you up. Little did you know, you were loud enough to wake up the bandmate on one side of you, and someone from the costume department on the other side of you. The costume designer just checked up on you in the morning, not really thinking anything of the noises coming from your body. The bandmate felt differently. You coughed out of surprise when you heard someone knocking at your door at almost 2:00 in the morning. Slowly, you crawled out of bed, tossing a throw blanket around your shoulders because you felt cold to the touch despite your body breaking out in a sweat. When you got to the door and looked through the peephole, you saw a rat’s nest of blonde locks going in every single direction, leaning up sideways against the door. Before moving your hand to the handle, you knocked quietly to signal to Roger that you were going to open the door so he would not fall sideways into your room. When you looked back through the peephole, hand now on the handle, he had gotten your message and was standing facing the door. You lightly pulled it open, grimacing slightly at the bright lights of the hotel hallway.

“Hi, Roger. Why are you awake?”

“It’s your fault, love. I’m right next to you and I can hear you hacking up a bloody storm.”

“I’m sorry, Roger, it’s just my fucking allergies.”

“You sure? It sounds worse than that.” As if on cue, you hunched over into what felt like the four hundredth cough attack that night, and when you finally stopped, your breathing had turned into wheezing.

“Alright, go sit on your bed, I’ll be right back. I’ll prop the door open so you don’t have to get back up.”

Before you could ask him why he was leaving already, he was out the door, so you just trudged over to your bed, plopping down on it making it bounce lightly and squeak quietly. You were only alone for about fifteen seconds and then Roger came back in, holding a medium-sized black make-up bag. He shut your door and walked over to stand in front of your bedside table.

“Roger, I’m not sure what they taught you in biology school, but make-up is not going to make me feel better.”

“Oi, shut it. Want my help or not, Miss Sarcasm?” He spoke through a smug smile.

“Fine, yeah I want your help. What do you need from me?”

“First, I need you to tell me you trust me.”

“What? Why?”

“Are you really going to make me explain why?”

“Um, yeah. You can’t just say that and make me not be concerned about trusting you.”

“Fine. Basically, on a previous tour, one of the roadies, her name was Maria, got really sick. Like, caught the bad flu strain that was going around that year. I offered to help her by giving her some medication for the nausea and lightheadedness, stuff you can get over-the-counter, but she assumed I was going to drug her. She came about one piece of paperwork away from filing a lawsuit against me and the band. I really don’t want to go through that again when all I’m trying to do is be a nice person.”

“You know, for a drummer in a rock band, you’re pretty eloquent and thoughtful, Roger Taylor.”

“…um…”

“That’s my way of saying I trust you.”

You could hear him breathe out a sigh of relief, probably a combination of knowing he was not going to get sued as well as not having to hear you cough for much longer. He asked you to tell him what all was happening with you so he could see if he had any medication that would cover most of your symptoms. Turns out, everything you described really was just severe seasonal allergies, and he happened to have a stronger allergy medication than what you normally took. He just told you to keep the bottle and use them at your discretion. Follow the instructions on the bottle and you should be good as new within a few days.

“Thanks, Roger. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know that. But at least this way we both get some sleep, eh? I’ll let myself out. See you tomorrow, love.”

“Goodnight, Roger.”

[flashback end]

If only what you were currently dealing with felt like seasonal allergies. It was not even allergy season, it was the end of November. And the tour had just started less than a month prior. At first, you assumed that you were just having back muscle spasms. You had never experienced them before, so you just guessed this is what they felt like. When the pain first started, it started on your lower right side, and just felt like you pulled something. It went away after a few minutes and you never thought anything of it. Then it happened again, but a little bit more forceful.

“Jesus, is this what contractions are like? Count me out for that.”

Trying to make a funny situation out of the pain you were feeling was not really the smartest plan of action, but it was the only one you could come up with at the moment. The pain kept coming in waves, and each wave was worse than before. Eventually, after a few hours of dealing with the pain on your own, it stopped. Out of thin air, it just went away. Normally, that would be the kind of thing to make a person do a double take and ask themselves ‘what is going on?’ Not you, though, you were just thrilled that the imaginary back contractions were over and done with. Moving on with your day, showtime nearing, you kept doing your job, exchanging words with other roadies and the band here and there. Not once feeling uncomfortable again. You watched the show, and for the first time in four shows, nothing went wrong. All the electronics performed the way they were supposed to, Brian did not snap any strings, nor did John, and Freddie managed to keep his mic stand in once piece. Roger threw a drumstick during a particularly fast song, but you had gifted him a cup to put on his drum kit so he could keep spares in there to grab in case of such an event. It came in handy more often than he would like to admit. After the show, you congratulated the boys on another performance well done, and proceeded to travel back to your hotel room. You guys did not have to travel tonight because they had two sold out shows in a row at the venue they were at, so it was nice to have an actual bed for once. This time around though, you were on a floor that was just crew members. All the band members had rooms on the floor above you guys. Not that any of you minded, it was not like you had a reason to mind. Around three in the morning, you awoke to the feeling of those strange back contraction pains again, this time accompanied by some serious chills. Then you felt it – the pit of your stomach dropped, and you were over the hotel toilet in record time. Initially you thought that maybe this was how your body handled food poisoning, considering you had never had that before. Then you looked at what had come out of you. Bloody.

~

“Roger…Roger?”

You were dragging yourself up the stairwell and down the hallway to his room, calling out to him hoarsely. You knew that he would never have heard you, but you tried, nonetheless. You got to his door, knocked once, and then collapsed on the floor. Startled, Roger shot straight up in bed and sprinted to the door, only in his underwear but not caring. When he opened the door, your head fell flat onto his floor, and he could hear the strangled moans coming from your throat. He could also see the sweat pooling on your forehead, a small bit of dried blood and vomit on the corner of your mouth, and how you were hunched over in the fetal position clutching your stomach.

“Roger…it hurts so much.”

He did not even say a word. He ran over to his hotel phone, and you could barely hear him utter the address of the hotel before you passed out. The next thing you knew, you were woken up by the feeling of an IV going in your arm, as well as the feeling of a moving vehicle. An ambulance. How did you get here? Why was Roger looking at you like that? Then the waves of pain struck you again, and you remembered everything that had happened not thirty minutes prior.

“Oh…God…”

“Ms. Y/L/N, please try not to talk or move, we are trying to prepare you for emergency surgery as soon as we get to the hospital.”

“Emer…gency… surgery? For… for what?”

“Relax, love. You’re gonna be fine.” Roger’s voice broke through all the beeping and liquids sloshing around, grounding you in the scary situation. “I’m just glad you came and got me when you did.” You could feel his hand clamped around yours, sweaty. “I may know how to help with allergies, but this is out of my area of expertise, love.”

“Roger…”

“Hush, love. Try to relax. We’re pulling into the hospital now. I’ll be right by your side when you wake up.”

You tried to respond, but you felt the general anesthesia hit you, and you were out like a light. Roger watched as they moved your body from an ambulance gurney to a hospital gurney and usher you down the hallway following the signs that said “OPERATING ROOM.” He followed you as far as he could, until a male nurse held his hand out flat in front of Roger, forcibly stopping his movement and almost knocking the wind out of him.

“What the fuck mate—”

“Sorry, sir, you can’t go further than this. Please wait in that waiting room right over there. I’ll be sure to have a surgeon assistant come update you throughout the surgery.”

“But—”

“I’m sorry, sir, it’s hospital policy. If you could, please make your way over to the waiting area.”

Roger huffed angrily and full of worry, but did what the nurse told him to do. He sat down, seeing all the magazines and children’s games sitting on the tables in front of him. He was too distracted. He was terrified. The last time he knew someone who had to have emergency surgery did not make it out alive. Those two words strung together instantly usher a sense of panic into him that he does not have a way of controlling. The last thing he wanted was for you to not feel good in the first place, but having to sit face to face with the knowledge that you laying in a gurney could be the last image he saw of you was too much. He started to sob. Sobbed himself to sleep. The nurses just watched in pity.

~

“Sir?” Roger felt someone nudge at his shoulder, but he did not fully stir awake yet. “Sir?”

“Huh, what…”

“Sir, I just wanted to update you on the girl you came in with.”

Roger was brought back to reality when he fully opened his eyes. The bright white lights shining above him, the smell of cleanliness, and a lady in scrubs. A little bloody.

“Y/N?”

“Yes. We’re done the hard part. Her appendix has been removed successfully, before any serious rupturing happened. Some small ruptures here and there, but nothing major. Now all the doctor has to do is remove any fluid in her abdominal cavity and stitch her up. Once she’s finished, we will wheel her to recovery and bring you over to her as well. This should all happen within the next hour or so. Is that okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. Thanks for the update, I’m, uh, going to try to go back to sleep now.”

If he had not fallen into such a deep sleep, he would have had more to say. More questions for the nurse. But the nerves he had felt when he saw how broken you were earlier took all the energy out of him, and once he sat in something even the littlest bit comfortable, he passed right out. Just like you had when you hit the floor of his hotel room. Roger laid his head back down on the side of the chair, thinking of your smiling face as he drifted back into the land of sleep. Almost praying that he would get to see it again.

~

Like clockwork, the same nurse from earlier woke Roger up, this time less groggily, and she instructed him to follow her to the recovery area. Where you would be. The fact that he was actually walking there almost brought him to tears. He would get to see your smile again. When he was finally in the back, he saw that they had placed a chair next to your bed for him, with a few magazines. He was told that he would get to sit with you while you were still under the influence of the general anesthesia, but that you would be awake within twenty minutes. He nodded at the nurse, offering a quiet ‘thank you’ and proceeded to sit in the chair. Twenty minutes. He waited over two hours, surely, he could wait twenty minutes to hear your voice again. He could at least see you now, so… baby steps. He tossed the magazines to the floor after realizing that there was no way they could be more interesting than the woman lying in front of him. He scooted his chair forward so his knees were almost pressing against the side of your bed, and he laid his hand on what he assumed was your thigh based on your profile under the sheet. He lightly squeezed, and simultaneously the tears spilled from his eyes. Ones he did not realize were even threatening to fall, nor did he realize the reason for.

“Hi, love. I, uh… I don’t know why I’m bloody crying. But here we are. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you this time. I know you like coming to me for help when you don’t feel good, and… I feel like I just made you break your trust in me. I, uh…” Roger choked a little bit on his tears. It was not like you and him were the closest of friends. If he was being honest, there were other roadies he considered better friends than you. But for reasons outside of your control.

Then it hit him. Like a ton of bricks. There were the roadies whose names he did not know. There were the roadies who he was friends with, and the ones he had previously had a slight friends with benefits situation with. There were the roadies who made him angry. The ones who made him sad. There were the roadies he practically considered family because they had been with him since Smile. Most of these roadies, except for the ones from Smile, never came back for a second tour. Then there was you. You did not fit into any of those categories. He knew your name, he was friends with you, but not with benefits, you never made him angry or sad, you were not with him in his Smile days, and Roger was the one who wanted you to come on a second tour. You had created your own category. There was a roadie he loved.

“I need you to wake up, love. I… need to let you know that I’m gonna get you through this recovery. And that I am never going to let you get sick or hurt again, not under my watch. If you do, I’m going to make you better.”

“Is that a promise, Roger Taylor?”

The tears stopped at his head whipped in the direction of your quiet voice. Your eyes were still almost completely shut, but he could see you looking at him. His heart fluttered when he made eye contact with you, and the tears started up again.

“Yes, it’s a promise, love.”

“Good. Now, please go get me some ice chips, my throat feels like a vultures crotch (we love a borhap reference), and my stomach feels like an anvil landed on it and is somehow twisting it in all directions.”

“You got it, darling.”

~

You were allowed to be discharged the same day, so Roger carefully wheeled you to the taxi he called, and then slowly helped you to the elevator so he could bring you to his room.

“Roger, why aren’t you taking me to my room?”

“Didn’t I promise you that I would be taking care of you? Answering to all of your becking and calling?”

“Are you forgetting that you have a show to do?”

“And I will be helping you until the moment I have to walk onto stage, and the minute we are done, I’ll be right back here helping you.”

Roger carefully helped you lay back on his bed, almost tearing up at the sound of your groans from bending over. Once you were comfortable, with about fourteen pillows behind and surrounding you, he walked over to his phone and called room service.

“Hello, this is room 5667. I’d like to put in a request for the #6 dinner for two, and two pints of [your favorite ice cream {or other dessert if you are lactose intolerant} flavor] to be delivered ASAP. Name? Roger. Thank you.”

“Roger—”

“No words from you. I am eating dinner with you, and then I will be finding a movie for you to watch during the show to enjoy with your favorite dessert. And you cannot pay me, or try and get out of it.”

“If you insist.”

After dinner, Roger flitted about his room gathering up the things he would need to take to the show that he did not keep with the roadies, and you watched him move. Tons of people that you talked to, fans that did not realize that you worked for them, would air their thoughts on the man to you. ‘Such a womanizer!’ ‘A dirty cheater, the wanker.’ ‘Hot down to every single molecule, but not a good personality.’ At first, when you started working for them, you were afraid that they were going to be true. You thought he was going to be an asshole. And he could be. If he was truly mad. That was a very small percentage of the time, despite what people thought. All other times he was a big softie. Kind of melted your heart. Not in the ‘I have feelings for the drummer of a band’ kind of way, just at the fact that a human could be as kind and thoughtful as he was despite the bad boy nature he tried to present himself with. He stuck to your side like a golden retriever, and while you appreciated being doted on, it was a little bit funny seeing it be someone like Roger. You giggled to yourself at your thoughts.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I promise.” You could not stop the wide grin from overtaking your features as you spoke.

“Nobody likes a liar, love. If it didn’t run the risk of popping your stitches, I would be all over you, tickling you to get the answer from you.” Very golden retriever like, that’s for damn sure.

“Okay, okay. If you must know, I was just thinking about how different you really are from the image you present yourself with.”

“Explain?”

“You present yourself as the bad boy drummer that all the girls go crazy for. And I won’t be the person who denies that it has worked for you, in more ways than one, more than once. But I’ve seen you in more situations than band ones. I’ve seen you when you’re vulnerable.” You had to stop to take a drink of water, your throat still pretty dry from the tubes during the surgery. “You really aren’t a tough guy. You’re… genuinely one of the sweetest men I’ve had the pleasure and honor of knowing. You are something else, Roger Taylor. And I feel like I haven’t seen you act the way you do around me around other roadies. Regardless of any circumstance.”

You saw the way Roger tensed at your words, but thought nothing of it. Little did you know, he was fearing that you figured out his feelings. Being the tough guy he is though, he thought of a way to dodge the words you said with a jab of his own. Luckily, he had just finished setting up your movie and getting your ice cream, so he could say it as he walked out the door.

“Well. You have the next three hours to figure out why that is, love. Expect a quiz when I return.”

He lightly placed his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair, electing to do something more friendly than kissing your forehead or something, as to not give anything away. And out the door he went. As soon as you heard the door close, you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding in. He had not even made it out the door before you knew what the answer to his quiz would be.

~

Sweaty. He was sweaty and wanted to shower. By the time he had made it to his room, his shirt had been removed he just wanted to flop down into bed and pass out. After the adrenaline of the show, his brain had completely wiped his memory of you still seated in his bed. You heard the lock of his door, but made no effort to move your head to look in his direction. As soon as you heard the door close behind him, you spoke up.

“I mean something to you, don’t I?”

Roger almost completely jumped out his skin.

“Bloody hell… Y/N, I-I forgot you were here.”

“Did I get your quiz right?”

“Wha—”

“The reason you treat me the way you do. It’s because I mean something to you, isn’t it?”

“I think you need to be more specific than that love, that could…that could mean a lot of things.”

“I don’t want to sound stupid.”

“You won’t. I promise.”

“Do… you have feelings… for me?”

Roger just stared at you, wide and glossy eyed, mouth slightly agape, trying to hid how nervous he was. Hands sweaty again.

“That’s why I promised to take care of you. I hated seeing you with allergies.” He started to cry openly. “Imagine how broken I felt when there wasn’t anything I could do for you when you were…practically dying on my hotel floor.”

You just watched him pour out his soul to you, letting him plead for you.

“And-and-and I know that you’ve probably heard the stories of me and certain fans. The women. Have I done that shit sometimes? Yeah. But ever since you’ve joined the team I haven’t. I haven’t done anything. Not even really thought about other women.”

You believed him.

“Would you ever give someone like me a chance?”

“C’mere.”

Roger made his way over to you slowly, unsure of what you were going to do. He was nervous as all hell, because he had never felt like this about any of the women he met, and he did not want to lose you. Eventually he got to the side of his bed where you were sitting, and you motioned for him to sit on the other side of you. Roger felt like he did something wrong, but when he finally plopped down onto the other side of the bed, you reached up to grab his cheek.

“I would have walked over to you and kissed you myself, but my stomach hurts too much.”

Roger laughed with his whole heart and soul. He truly did not expect you to want him back. It made waiting all this time for any form of intimacy so worth it. He kissed you with more passion than he put into his drumming. He even got a little bit too into it and started to move his down your torso, and the minute you felt his fingers below your chest, you grabbed one of the pillows situated to your side and smacked him in the head.

“Hey! What was that for? I was getting into that.”

“Stitches, wanker.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, love.” Permanent Taglist: @bensrhapsody @chlobo6 @gardnerlangway @xtrashmammalstefx

Roger Taylor Taglist: n/a

// If you want to be added to either taglist mentioned above, or the one for another character I’ve written for, send me an ask here! //

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen #fanfiction #fanfic #ill keep you alive #angst #medical drama #fluff

[hookedontaronfics]

First Contact series - Part 5

Title: First Contact - Part 5 Read the previous installments here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Some mild cursing, brief sexual mention A/N: Jess and Taron have a perfect summer day together, but will her insecurities get in the way? I hope you love reading the fifth installment of the First Contact series as much I have loved writing it. The series will eventually involve more mature themes as it develops, so be warned! Enjoy! x

The day had dawned hot and steamy, and transitioned full on into boiling by the time my boss cut work short for everyone. Our office didn’t have air conditioning, and everyone was starting to feel ill from the sticky air in our high rise. No amount of fans could seem to relieve it, and most of the men had loosed their ties and collars. I could feel the heat from the baked concrete of the sidewalk burning through the soles of my shoes as I walked quickly toward the tube station, hoping there would be some relief underground.

The cafe tables on the sidewalks that were usually so full for lunch hour were completely empty, and the few people scurrying about were sticking to the shadows cast by shop awnings. I’d felt temperatures like this in my hometown in America almost every summer, but air conditioning was everywhere across the pond. The heat felt much different when you couldn’t get away from it.

I texted my flatmates to see how they were surviving the heat. Jules complained it was brutal and then said she and Mary were just planning on heading to Hampstead Heath; there really was no other way to deal then to wade neck-up into the bathing pool.

<Oh God, that sounds perfect. We closed shop early and I’m heading back. Wait for me!> I quickly texted back. I caught the train and was soon back at the flat. My friends were already clad in bikinis under their summer clothes, waiting impatiently on me to arrive. Even Tim looked uncomfortable in the stuffy flat, and I felt bad for him.

I quickly changed into the floral high-waisted bikini my friends had convinced me to buy. I was a bit self-conscious about my love handles and stomach, but they swore up and down it highlighted my curves in all the right places. Still, next to my willowy friends, I sometimes felt like a bit of a lard. But today was too hot to care about how I looked, so I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee over the swimsuit and stuffed the essentials like sunscreen and a hat into my beach bag.

“Alright?” I said, as Jules gave me a once-over and tsk’d slightly. She walked over to me and grabbed the hem and material of my baggy shirt, quickly doing a knot in it and tucking it under so it was not only a lot more form fitting, but also showed my midriff slightly.

“Now we’re ready,” she smiled, waving her finger in my face when I tried to protest. “You’ve got a figure all the guys would die to be with.”

“Jules!” I groaned slightly. 

“Oh we know,” Mary said with a smirk. “There’s only one person you want to be with right now, and so far that hasn’t happened yet. You just need to get laid!” she added with a squeal.

“We are not having this conversation right now!” I yelled, yanking open the door as my roommates just cackled and followed along. 

As we walked back toward the tube entrance, my mind shifted to Taron, whom I hadn’t seen for the past week or so since I’d been sick. We’d been texting most days, and even tried to make plans, but he’d had to cancel and apologized profusely for not being available to see me. I understood being a busy adult; I’d had my own share of things to get done. I found that I missed him, though, and I was surprised by the yearning to see him smile at me again.

Almost as if my thoughts had summoned him, my phone pinged with a text. <I think I’m melting. It’s bloody hot. Hope you’re getting on okay.>

<Just heading to Hampstead now with the girls. Our flat was suffocating.>

<Likely the only thing to do today> he responded.

In some strange dash of courage, I decided to suggest he join us. <Bring your mates> I added hopefully. <It’ll be fun.>

“Who are you texting?” Mary asked, making me jump slightly. I hadn’t realized I’d totally zoned out of the conversation with my friends.

“Just Taron,” I replied, my heart stupidly starting to race as I waited for his response.

“So when’s he going to take you out again?” Jules asked, poking me in the side. “Or is he one of those slow-burn types?”

“He’s busy! He’s got plenty more important things to deal with then me,” I defended. “Besides, I’m sure if it got out that he was dating a nobody the internet would shit itself. He’s probably been coached on this a great deal.”

“You’re not a nobody, Jess,” Mary said, sympathetically. “You’re really brilliant and if he doesn’t see that then he’s blind.” 

“Yeah, fuck what the internet thinks,” Jules added, an older lady huffing disprovingly at the language. “You’re an absolute catch.” I truly had the best roommates a girl could ask for.

Just then, my phone screen lit up again with Taron’s response. <I’ve got something later today but I don’t see why I can’t drop by for a bit. See you soon.> The thrill that ran through me was undeniable.

We grabbed another train and no one seemed remotely bothered by our decided lack of clothing, as everyone was too hot to care. We rumbled our way to Hampstead, knowing it would be crazy busy with everyone else having the same idea. There were only a couple of sparse clouds in the sky as we paid our fare, and I suggested we go to the mixed pool this time instead of the ladies only. My friends both gave me looks, and I had to admit that Taron was supposed to be bringing a few friends along to join us.

“Oh my god, when were you going to tell us!” Jules squealed at me.

“I don’t know! I didn’t want you both to give me shit!” I laughed, as Mary joined in on the excited squealing.

“You’re going to see Taron shirtless ... in person,” Jules said wickedly. “Maybe he’ll even ask you to rub sunscreen on his back, eh?” she said, digging her elbow into my side.

“Ow!” I laughed, grabbing my side and being reminded of how not-skinny I was. “Or he’ll take one look at me in my suit and run screaming the other way.”

“Oh please,” Jules said, as Mary sighed. “You’re totally hot.”

“Yeah, I am hot, sweltering really, and it’s about time we got in this bloody pool,” I laughed, trying to ignore my insecurities about my body as we found a place to dump our stuff, tore off our outer clothes, and ran straight into the water, probably amusing everyone around us as we shrieked about how cold it was.

“That’s one way to cool off,” Mary laughed, her teeth chattering a bit.

“You’ll get used to it soon enough,” Jules grinned as we bobbed there in the water like everyone else. Just a bunch of heads floating about, I giggled at the stupidity of that thought. We chatted for a bit and grew accustomed to the water, and I tried not to stare at the shoreline too much in anticipation. I didn’t exactly want to come across as desperate. We eventually clambered out of the water to try and soak up some sun, spraying on sunscreen and laying out on our towels.

I was just about to think Taron would stand us up when I heard his laugh floating across the grounds to us. I sat up and instantly wrapped my towel around myself. “Hey hey hey ladies!” he grinned, holding out his arms wide as he strolled up, a cap pulled low and his sunnies giving him a bit of a chance to not be immediately recognized. He had two friends with him who were both quite fit themselves, but I only had eyes for Taron as the three of them settled in on the ground with us. Jules and Mary were quite beside themselves. “Well look at that, we match up. These are my mates, Jack and Gavin,” he said with a grin.

We introduced ourselves as well, though I was pretty sure somewhere in a hazy memory of the karaoke bar we’d all met Jack before, but Gavin was new, and Jules had instantly started chatting him up.

“I’m glad you made it,” I smiled at Taron, admiring him just a bit in the tanktop and swim shorts he was wearing. Boy if I didn’t just burn up right then and there, I thought.

“I’m glad I did too,” he grinned back. “I’ve been missing you.”

“You have?” I asked, biting my lip a bit shyly.

“Of course. It’s not been my choice to be so busy, but I’ll figure this out.”

“Yeah?” I couldn’t help but smile. “What’s this thing you’ve got going on later?”

“Oh! Yeah that. Just some old mates from school invited me out to Streatham Common for a bonfire night,” he grinned.

“A bit hot for that, isn’t it?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Perhaps, but it’s the best place to see the stars in the middle of London. Would you like to see it for yourself?” he asked cutely. “That is, of course, if you haven’t got plans already.”

“No, no plans. I’d love too,” I grinned back.

“Good, now that that’s settled, shall we get out in that water before we all melt?” he asked, standing up and pulling his tanktop off. I felt my breath catch in my chest, and I was glad my shades were dark because oh, was I staring. He was a bit sweaty and the way it glistened on his chest gave me thoughts I should not have been thinking.

“Come on then,” he said to me, offering his hand as Jules, Mary, Gavin and Jack had already headed for the water. He helped me stand up, but I was still clutching the towel around me with one hand and there was a hint of understanding in Taron’s eyes.

“You needn’t be shy around me. You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, reaching over and gently taking the edges of the towel from me and pushing it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. “That’s better,” he said, looking me over and smiling sweetly. “Alright?” he asked me, and I nodded. He took my hand and we made our way to the water, finally joining up with our friends.

We talked and laughed a bit, and with the rest of my body under the water, where no one had to see it, I could forget about my insecurity there. That is, of course, until Taron suggested we play chicken fight. Jules was instantly for it, Mary seemed confused as to what that meant, and I wanted to sink to the bottom of the pool. There was no way I was getting up on Taron’s shoulders for the world to see.

“Come on, love, it’s fine!” Taron grinned at me, excited about his fantastic idea.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” I said under my breath while Jack explained the basic premise to Mary.

“That’s nonsense. Hurt me?” Taron laughed, taking a deep breath of air and ducking under the surface. I nearly fell over when I felt his hands on my legs, pushing them apart enough to get his head between them and standing up, boosting me up out of the water as I shrieked loudly. I clutched at his head to keep from falling over as he just laughed his ass off. “Not so bad, is it?” he smirked, holding onto my legs as I tried to not hyperventilate.

“Holy fuck, Taron, warn a girl next time,” I said, Jules already up on Gavin’s shoulders too. Mary was struggling a bit to get on Jack’s, making everyone laugh, but finally she was up too.

“Let the games commence!” Taron grinned, as Jules and I were the first two to face off. We were quite evenly matched, and it took a fair bit of wrestling, but eventually I prevailed, knocking a shrieking Jules over into the water.

“Yes! We did it!” I squealed happily to Taron.

“Yeaah!” he said, patting my thigh happily and making me feel something strange in my chest as I realized that his fingers were against my bare skin.

Next it was Mary and I, and she royally kicked my butt, managing to push both me and Taron over backward into the water, both of us coming back up for air, sputtering and laughing.

Taron pulled me in close to him, making sure I could breathe and running his fingers along the exposed skin of my waist under the water. “T...Taron?” I stuttered slightly.

“Hmmm?” he said, grinning at me, the sunlight bouncing off the water and making his hazel eyes sparkle.

“Your eyes look rather blue at the moment,” I smiled, running my hands through his wet curls. “I always thought that color-changing eyes were the prettiest. I’ve just got boring brown ones.”

“Boring? Have you gone mad?” he asked, his gaze holding my own. “You just haven’t seen them the way I have. When the sun shines down on them, they turn straight to amber. And there are these little gold flecks that always make them look like they’re dancing.” No one had ever said anything so lovely to me in my life, and I quite forgot how to speak.

“Rematch!” Jules yelled, interrupting our moment, which was fine because I had no idea how much longer we were going to stand there staring at each other if she hadn’t. We even got a few other people involved in the game until we had all worn ourselves out, returning to our towels and letting the sun bake us dry again. The boys had brought snacks and even a Bluetooth speaker to play some tunes, and we spent an incredibly enjoyable afternoon together.

Eventually we decided to head on home, the sun making us all feel a bit knackered, but before we parted ways Taron grabbed my hand in his and placed a sweet kiss on the back of it. “Be ready at 8, yeah?” he smiled, and I nodded, feeling giddy inside.

We made it back to our flat, where Jules and Mary both decided to take naps. I felt the need to freshen up so I ran the water in the bath, still mulling over the image of Taron in my mind, the sun on his shoulders and happiness in his eyes. I slipped beneath the surface of the bath, sighing as the warmth enveloped me. I closed my eyes and could still see him smiling at me, focusing on the muscles of his bare chest that I had wanted to run my hands over so badly, the way his wet swim shorts had clung to his thighs.

“Shit,” I breathed, feeling turned on and letting my hand drift down between my legs, gasping slightly as I imagined what it might feel like if it were Taron’s fingers. I rubbed myself a bit, my breathing coming in short gasps, trying not to moan in case Mary or Jules overheard me. But it was no use; I’d not been able to get off in quite a while. I had no idea what was wrong with me.

“Damnit,” I said, splashing water onto the floor in my frustration as I knocked the back of my head against the edge of the tub. I sighed and sat there for a moment, tearing up slightly and then quickly wiping them away. “Right, get over it,” I told myself. I quickly finished bathing and focused on getting myself ready, which didn’t consist of much. I figured I didn’t need to be made up for a bonfire.

Once Jules and Mary were up from their naps, we ordered some takeout on delivery and sat eating and chatting in front of the telly. Taron arrived promptly and I waved goodbye to the girls. I wasn’t exactly sure who we’d be hanging out with, so Taron filled me in as he drove us out to the nature preserve. It was still warm out, so I’d just dressed in shorts, a tee and sneaks. Taron parked us and we made the bit of a hike toward the woods, Taron holding my hand the whole way there.

He was warmly greeted by his friends once we arrived, and cutely introduced me to everyone. They were all so sweet and welcoming to me, and we were both handed beers. We took a seat on a log, but it was still too warm to have lit the fire. Everyone was hoping that it would cool off once the sun went down. We laughed and talked and drank, and Taron kept his arm draped around my shoulders. It felt amazing to be included in this way, and I started thinking that maybe we really were “together.” But he’d never actually said it out loud, and one thing still worried my mind.

The temperature cooled off as the sun sank toward the horizon, deepening the shadows. After the fire was lit, and most of Taron’s friends were too, Taron grinned over at me and cutely flicked the tip of my nose with this finger. “I told you I’d show you the stars. Come on,” he said with a wink, grabbing two fresh beers and taking my hand again. 

“Where are we going?” I laughed, following along dutifully. “Won’t they miss us?”

“Trust me, you won’t want to go missing in these woods, it’d likely be til Sunday before anyone knows you’re gone,” he smirked.

We trekked through the trees a bit on a well-worn path, giggling when we stumbled over roots until we’d gotten to a small clearing. In the middle was a pickup truck, older but not rusted out. It looked like someone had been taking care of it, though how it’d ended up in the middle of the trees was beyond me. Taron pulled back the cover and then let down the tailgate, helping me climb up. I was shocked at what I found; the bed of the truck had been completely covered with cushions and blankets and pillows. It was rather soft and I felt like I was sinking into it as Taron clambered in after me.

I grinned as he settled in next to me, and we both leaned back and stared up at the twilight sky. We were quiet for a few minutes as I watched the stars slowly blink into existence, one by one. “This is really gorgeous,” I whispered, feeling Taron’s fingers playing at the hem of my shirt. All the beer I’d drunk was making me feel rather heady, and when his fingers connected with my skin, I could barely breathe. “Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, before taking a swig of his beer, almost as if he was trying to gather his courage.

I wanted him to kiss me so badly, but I was also afraid for it. What if, from that single kiss, he could detect my entire history? What if he could taste the brokenness on my tongue?

He turned over onto his side slightly, and I did the same. We were so close in the darkness, sharing the same air, and I could feel the tension vibrating between us. “Taron,” I breathed his name, as we slowly drifted closer, our noses touching and then finally our lips. That first kiss was so gentle, but the power of it blew me away. It wasn’t demanding, or selfish, or greedy, or any of the other things I knew a kiss to be. “Jessica,” he said against my lips, his arm sliding around my back and drawing me in for more.

When we broke apart I was breathless, speechless, unable to form a single thought, and I imagined Taron felt the same. There was nothing of the world but this singular moment, Taron and me, the sounds of the woods surrounding us.

“I...uh…” Taron laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “That was good, right?” he asked.

“Just shut up,” I laughed, burying my face against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, and we laid like that for a space. I was warm and fuzzy inside and everything felt perfect - until I opened my big mouth.

“T, can I ask you a question?” I said against his chest, and he hummed slightly.

“Yeah, anything,” he replied, running his fingers through my hair.

“You don’t already have a girlfriend, do you?” I asked, his fingers going still. He didn’t say anything at first, and I wondered if he’d even heard me, but then he sat up, pushing me off him.

“Why would you say something like that to me?” he asked, the darkness masking the pain in his eyes. “Why would you insinuate I was being unfaithful to someone else? I’d never do that, Jess!” he said, anger lacing through the hurt in his voice.

“What? That’s not… what I meant. I just didn’t know!” I tried to explain, but nothing seemed to be coming out right.

“Do you bloody think I’m an animal? I wouldn’t have been pursuing you if I had a girlfriend, for Chrissake,” he said. “All of this wasn’t just to get into your pants. You’re not just a good fuck for me, you know!” he said, grabbing his half-empty beer bottle and lobbing it angrily into the woods. I heard it smash somewhere against a tree. “Fuck,” he said. “You know what, find your own way home,” he said, hopping out of the truck and fleeing the way we’d come.

I sat there in stunned silence, not even sure what the hell had just happened. “Taron?” I asked, and nothing but silence answered back. I jumped down to the ground, pushing the tailgate and cover back into place before using my phone’s flashlight to make it back down the path. I could see the glow of the bonfire through the trees; we hadn’t been that far away, so I wasn’t feeling scared that I was lost. But I was hurt, and confused. It’d been an honest question and I didn’t understand Taron’s flash of anger. In my haste to return, I tripped over something and crashed to the ground, scraping the palms of my hands and my knees, but I barely noticed.

I pushed myself back up to my feet and retrieved my phone before finally making it back to the circle. I frantically tried to find Taron, but was told he had already left. I tried not to cry then, feeling the sense of abandonment sweep through me. I hated that I felt that way; he didn’t owe me anything, after all. I was just a fan, and he the famous actor. He could go back to his life like none of this had ever happened, but I felt irreparably changed somehow.

I managed to bum a ride from one of his friends, thankful they weren’t much for chatting. I’m not sure I could have kept it together well enough to pretend my night hadn’t gone totally to shit. The flat was completely dark when we arrived, and I was thankful Jules and Mary were already in bed. “Cheers,” I said to the driver before jogging up the walk and letting myself in. I headed straight for the bathroom and shut myself inside, my hands shaking as I tried to doctor my bloodied palms and knees. I left my dirty smoke-scented clothes on the bathroom floor and crawled into bed in my unders. I hugged my pillow to myself tightly and finally allowed myself to cry. I checked my phone again; Taron hadn’t texted. I wanted to let him know I’d gotten home safely, but I didn’t think he’d care.

I eventually cried myself out, and felt Tim jump up on my bed. He settled down in the crook of my legs and purred. “At least you still like me. No one else gives a toss,” I sniffed, feeling sorry for myself. I set my phone on the nightstand and sighed deeply. My chest hurt, my palms were stinging, and everything felt out of place. The only thing to do for it was sleep, so I left myself crash, afraid of the hard truths I was going to have to face in the morning.

Can Jess mend her relationship with Taron in time? Find out in Part 6.

#taron imagine #taron egerton #taron x reader #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 47

Last time: Winry interrupted Ed’s Sandwich Time, Pride told Al to take a nap, and Bradley got Operation Valkyrie’d. Onwards!

Narrator’s saying how Al was captured by the Goths on Promised Day Eve, and now he’s floating in the Whitespace. Probably not a good sign. A voice (Truth?) tells him to wake up- [Pride]: “It’s too soon for you to die. We aren’t done with you yet. There’s still so much work we have in store for you.” Well. This is going to be a cheerful episode, isn’t it? Episode 47 - “Emissary of Darkness” Way outside of Central there’s a ramshackle village, a bunch of people in rough clothes working the land. Wait why are you asking what the town is called Ed, are you lost? Central is like, clearly visible over the trees. Never mind then, guess this is where Beard’s been hanging out instead of Uncle’s stomping grounds. Sorry dude, but your lunch is getting interrupted by your estranged son and his- I mean, Greedling’s crew. So last time they saw each other it was over Mama Elric’s gravestone while Absentee Anime Father chided Ed for burning down the house. How’s this conversation going to OH SHIT [Beard]: “Edward, I didn’t thi-”

So Beard goes flying from, let’s be honest, a well-deserved punch. I mean we know that he’s on the side of the good guys now, but still. Absentee Anime Father has some explaining to do. Beard’s meeting his son’s new friends ([Lion/Gorilla]: “Ha, no.”), quickly identifies Greedling’s Goth nature and whoosh the Shiny Glasses are back. Eh, this is Beard we’re dealing with after all, guy can’t just give backstory without pulling up his Mysterious Shields. Later that night Beard’s finished storytime, Lion and Gorilla are sitting in shocked silence while Ed struggles with- oooh yeah. He’s spent a large chunk of his life searching for a Philosopher’s Stone to repair his and Al’s bodies, and now learning that he was raised by a “living stone”? Hell, conceived by it. Then Beard offers himself to restore his son’s bodies wat. Oh Leto thank you Ed, the young man’s yelling about how he’s not going to sacrifice innocent souls to fix something that’s their own fault. Beard’s proud to hear his son feels that way. Right, now that everyone’s caught up on the past, what’s going to happen in the future? Apparently there will be a solar eclipse tomorrow that Uncle’s going to “harness for his scheme”. What, is he going to overthrow the Fire Nation? Beard says he needs Ed’s help- [Ed]: “Help you?! Now look here, I’m gonna stop that bearded bastard, but I’m not doing it because you want me to help you! Our best chance at beating this guy is to team up, and that’s the only reason I’m even talking to you right now!” Yeesh. So Ed’s still harboring a lot of ill will towards Beard, storms off after that diatribe as the rest of Greedling’s crew heads off. Except Ed pauses oh yeah Granny asked him to pass on a message, Mama Elric’s final words: [Mama Elric]: “Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise… but I’m dying first.” Argh. And when Ed spins around to keep yelling at Beard, he sees the living Philosopher's Stone staring up at the night sky, crying. Out in the ramshackle village, Ed and the Chimeras are eating while the two men try talking him into giving Beard a chance, maybe ask why he took the Absentee Anime Father route. Ed’s still awfully bitter though, not helped by Greedling jumping into the conversation, pointing out the irony of Ed’s father being his early Quest Item. Ed says there’s more to it than that. Back at the campfire Beard’s thinking about the family picture, when Mama Elric was talking about how someday she’d grow old, that she’d be right there when he left for his Mysterious Mission. But we know how that all turned out. And it has to be said, he’s probably thinking about how he’s one of the most powerful beings in the setting. Maybe he could have healed her illness if he had stayed home? Yes at the cost of using his Philosopher’s Stone blood, but it’s still there. For now, Beard sits talking about how she stayed with him, how he wasn’t there beside- wait. [Beard]: “Tomorrow, ‘Trisha…” DEATH FLAGS WAVE WILDLY Like holy crap, the dude’s sitting by a campfire on his own the night before a big mission, looking at a photo of his dead wife and talking about how he wasn’t around. That’s… wow. Calling it now, Beard’s going to bite it. Taking all bets, I’ll bet Tephi a new book of her choice that Papa Elric will be gone inside of five episodes. The Dramatic String Music is starting up. Ed’s getting red cloth aw buddy why are you going back to your old red cloak? I liked the white outfit, you could have pulled off a good Gandalf.

See, Lion and Greedling agree with me, the Goth of Avarice even calls it flashy. But no, Ed’s all “this may be our final battle”, so he wants to do it in what he considers ‘style’. Fine, just promise no cars this time around. The Greedling Crew’s leaving? What about Beard, the Living Philosopher’s Stone you’re supposed to work with? Ed’s saying that the others can bail if they want ([Greedling]:”Hey now, I’m the boss!”). If they’re after restoring their bodies- [Gorilla]: “These bodies do have their perks. To be honest I really don’t mind staying like this.” [Greedling]: “Hahaha! Yeah, now that’s the spirit!” YES. THANK YOU. So anyway, the Chimeras are all “we’ve got nothing better to do, might as well help save the world” and Greedling’s… not telling Ed why he wants to go back to Central? Eh whatever, after his tiff with Bradley I don’t think he’s going to try and team up with the other Goths again. Wouldn’t put it past him to try and claim the title of Fuhrer in the chaos though. But even if he tries pulling that I think Ling would protest, and he’d have to deal with Roy Mustang (aka the guy who killed Lust) and Armstrong the Great. So yeah, I don’t see that happening. Lion pauses in the road, Ed looks around to see the holdup- Al! Did you get away from… oh no. No glowing red eyes? Walking out a dark, shadowy forest? Seen captured by the Goths and “worked on” by Pride? And yup Ed’s questioning how Al’s here when he was over with Sideburns in the East, and Greedling starts freaking out. Totally-Not-Possessed-Al ever so calmly says he needs to talk with Ed while the Creepy Strings start up, turns towards the forest- Ling yells at Ed to back up. Let me say that again, Ling yells at Ed to get away from the armor. Greed why are you trying to keep Ling from warning Ed? Crap shadows leaking from the armor and SHADOW SPIKES EVERYWHERE, Greedling and the Chimeras just barely dodge before they retract back to the armor, which slowly turns around to face the shocked Crew and then grows way too many eyes. We’ve seen Pride massacre Muggles in the tunnels, hold Riza hostage, chase after Uncle’s counterpart. Now we’ll see him actually fight. Mid-ep pictures of a grumpy Greed and a very unimpressed Grumman. Whaaaa? The Fuhrer’s remains haven’t turned up yet? Why wherever could they HE’S ALIVE DAMNIT. Oh hey General Grumman continues to be competent, he’s personally overseeing the search since he “won’t be able to comfortably sleep at night ‘til I see his corpse with my own eyes”. You go, trope-savvy General. But wait, what about leading the Eastern/Northern forces to Central? Uh. Hmmm. Well. Seems that General Grumman’s conniving extends to his “allies” as well. He just “has” to stay and oversee the search for the Fuhrer, meaning his troops are stuck with him. If Roy and Armstrong the Great make their move now, Bradley’s still-intact leadership (along with Uncle) will capture them. Then Grumman can step in to fill the power gap. [Grumman]: “They’ll take the fall as enemies of the state, while General Grumman will heroically come riding in on a white horse. I’ll let the youngsters dive head-first into danger and do all the dirty work. And then I’ll take my rightful place as leader of this country without any risk.” Holy shit. So Grumman is actually a conniving old schemer who plans to use the good guys to make his own power play. Not quite as bad as Raven, but damnit man I liked you. Thankfully Sideburns suspects Grumman’s motive and is withholding his trust. Back to Greedling’s Crew and Armored!Pride. Greedling confirms that it’s his “oldest brother” piloting the armor now, Pride shows off Al’s sigil. So now Ed has to fight his unconscious brother, and hold his punches so he doesn’t disrupt the sigil. This isn’t going to be easy. But at least he has backup- [Gorilla, hiding behind a tree with Lion]: “Our animal instincts are telling us to stay the hell away from that thing.” [Lion]: “It’d probably be smart for you to run too!” Well, this is the First Goth. It���s not really fair for me to expect them to fight it, even Toad and Boar kept to the sides against Envy. But Ed can still fight, and since he’s a Sacrifice then Pride can’t land any killing blows. Unfortunately Pride knows that, and that people can survive without all of their limbs… Pride’s just standing there as shadow blades strike all around the dodging Ed, who’s talking about keeping the Goth away from the slums. He Earthbends up a wall but Pride just smashes right through it and YIKES thank goodness Ling had his Ultimate Shield or he’d be dead, but Pride just latches on to his limbs and tells Ed to stand down or he’ll hurt Ling and the villagers. But Ed’s smiling? [Ed]: “I think it’s about time I start winning some of these fights for a change!” He transmutes the ground wait there are sparks heading straight toward the village OH! Well, it kinda sucks in the long-term that Ed shorted out their electric grid, but for the short term? No bright lights means… well it would mean no shadows if it wasn’t for the moon and stars. Or not? Apparently the moonlight is so weak that there aren’t any shadows near the forest anymore, all of Pride’s limbs vanish. Ed and Greedling exposit that they can’t see anything in the darkness, but Pride can’t cast without the strong light-source. What’s this about Pride’s shadow? Oh, so he’s controlling the armor by touching the armor’s shadow! Meaning that Pride’s just inside the tree-line, and Al’s armor is free from his influence. Quick, grab it! Oooh, but this means that our heroes are going to have to fight, maybe even kill an apparent child. Yeesh. Anyways, apparently the sky is “completely overcast” so that resolves the moon/star issue nicely. For now, Pride waits- Lion! Haha, looks like their noses are all better after Ed’s chemistry lesson. Holy Leto Lion is just unloading on Pride, the Goth chides him for attacking a child but Lion yells that he knows full well what Pride actually is, along with his animal instincts that are blaring “WRONG WRONG KILL IT BEFORE IT KILLS YOU”. Outside the trees Ed and Gorilla meet up, the chimera says they need to book it. But what about Al? He should be free from Pride’s control now, without shadows to manipulate it should be safe to grab the armor and run. But Gorilla urges caution. Moving along the trees they run into Greedling who’s wondering how they tracked him down LOOK OUT GLUTTONY! So just as Lion’s using his superhuman smell and sight to hunt down Pride, Gluttony’s been used for his enhanced sense of smell to track down Greedling. Who tells Gorilla to start fighting? Dude this is Gluttony, if anything you’re the best equipped to fight him seeing how Ling took the first edition down way back when. Except yeah Greedling doesn’t have the sight or smell to fight in the dark. Fight well, Gorilla! Holy Leto he’s actually fighting well, Gluttony’s getting tossed around- [Gorilla]: “Now for the final blow!” *WHAM* [Ed]: “Why, Mister Gorilla? Weren’t we sticking close to avoid attacking each other?” Ah. Never mind then. Greedling’s thinking over how Gluttony’s got the upper hand in the dark, and they’re all screwed when the lights come back on for Pride. Except ha! Like I said, Ling’s the best counter for Gluttony as he can sense the Goth and beat him once before. Let him CRAP Ling just lost an arm oh right Goth so he could regrow his limb (sorry, souls that got used up for that fix). Wait can Ling access the Ultimate Shield? Let’s come back to that, thankfully doesn’t need it right now as Ling’s fancy Xing martial arts are knocking Gluttony down. Greed even compliments him, impressive. But now Gluttony’s mad, and oh yeah he can do that whole pseudo Gate of Truth thing. Look out for the Eraser Gun! And now Ed’s the one who can’t see the danger, Ling and Gorilla can only talk ominously about “something bad coming”- Flash of someone running by? Beard finally catch up with the group and die heroically? Wait. Wait wait WAIT. Flashes of a speedy figure, metal blades that slice through Gluttony- EASTERN MUSIC STARTING UP OH LETO PLEASE TELL ME FUCK. YES. [Ling]: “I’m glad to see you’re ok. I was wondering when you’d find me, Lan-Fan.” The ninjas are back, baby! With a badass upgrade!

#wmtw #where my twin watches #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 47 #ranubis

[inanawesomewave]

SOCIOPATH WALKS OUT OF A THERAPIST’S OFFICE

Today I received a letter saying I had been discharged -- without my request or input -- from therapy.  Let me rewind a little.  As those of you who follow this blog know, I have been receiving therapy for just a few weeks. We have barely left the assessment phase, so whilst my therapist has been very good at listening to the traumas I have experienced and throwing in his two cents here and there, we haven’t so much got into the crux of therapy, as we have identified what the therapy is for, and what it was for was: 1. I have a lot of baseline and situational anger and contempt (his words, but I do tend to agree) and whilst I don’t want to give into forgiveness and adopting a mindful, wellness-y kind of mindset which would be insincere for me, I would like to stop being so constantly exhausted by my own rage, and stop being so at the behest of the contempt I feel constantly whirring in the background. 2. In order to do that, I need to confront childhood trauma head on, deal with it, talk about it, make sense of it, draw a line under it, move on. My old therapist from years ago (who discharged me after two and a half, almost three years, not long after my ASPD diagnosis, but we’ll get to that...) once described trauma as being like a big old blanket, in that if you shove it into the airing cupboard all crumpled and hurried, it’s going to ping out from time to time and trip you up and you’re going to have to angrily just shove it back in there, and it’s going to happen again and again. If you fold it neatly, it will stay there and not bother you, and will only come out if you specifically go in to fetch it. My current therapy was to learn how to fold that big blanket.  3. I love my son and my husband with all of my heart, and I want to treat them fairly and lovingly. In order to do that, I need to be a healthy person, so therapy was about untangling the threads of who I am, so that I can have enough insight and awareness to know what I need and when I need it. If I know that, then I will better know what my son needs and when he needs it. In short, I don’t want to become my mother.  And we did uncover some things. We spoke about a specific trauma, one that sticks out the most amongst everything, and going into that was like opening a Pandora’s Box of feelings, some of which I didn’t know the name of, and whilst it was very hard to hold it together without relapsing into some extremely antisocial behaviours (random people who I don’t know don’t need to hear any diatribes about What I Really Think About People Like You, and that’s not empathy talking, that’s a desire to not be seen as someone small and pathetic), it was cushioned by the fact that I knew I had a therapist now, and whatever intense, primary emotion took over my brain and my body whilst these old thoughts came to harry me, I could go to therapy that week, and mention them to someone who I was assured was there to help me. I had to agree to trust this man, and he had to agree to trust me. I was given conditions before my behaviour demanded them: “there are ways I won’t be spoken to” was said, before I’d ever slipped away from respect and courtesy, “some of this will trigger anger in you and you need to trust that I’m not trying to hurt you” was said too. Most importantly, I was told: “the relationship we have in this room will come to be the prototype of the relationships you have outside of this room. If you can be vulnerable and trusting in here, you will have a new blueprint of how to behave out there”. Sound logic, I thought. He’s into attachment theory and I guess I am too -- the relationship I had from my primary caregiver growing up was inconsistent, punitive, cold, dismissive and contemptuous, and that’s how antisocials get this way, most of the time. We didn’t learn the things that non-sociopaths would consider to be markers of goodness and humanity. Therapy is where you try to learn those things.  In my first few weeks, my therapy was on a day where I attend university to do my degree in psychology (finally, eh?). I told the therapist it wasn’t possible for me to attend those days without my performance at uni being compromised. I was told, in the kindest way possible, look do you want therapy or not? Because I’m in the UK and poor, I’m receiving the therapy through the NHS. Waiting lists are long and you take what you can get. I was lucky to get therapy in the first place. Still, I missed a few, and the day was finally changed. I didn’t miss any more sessions because I didn’t need to, and was told that I couldn’t miss any more unless it was a medical issue. Then, I got the flu.  Now I don’t know if you’ve had the flu, you probably have. It’s that kind of virus where your throat is on fire and your bones are aching and every muscle hurts to move and you feel you’ve been hit by a city bus for a week. I couldn’t get into therapy, but given our agreement about medical absences, I thought we were good. Nobody called to gripe about this absence, and my next appointment was in just two days from now. Then I got a letter telling me I was no longer receiving therapy, citing “competing demands in [my] personal life” -- a decision that has been made for me. “I want to assure you this is not a decision I have taken lightly. I have no doubt that you wanted to engage in therapy”. I tried to call to smooth things over and explain that a sick note is making its way to them to excuse my absence, but guess what? My therapist is on leave. Because he’s allowed time off from his demanding personal life.  And now I have some thoughts.  As mentioned earlier, I study psychology. My initial degree was a major in psychology, and a minor in psychotherapy. I was going to become a therapist, if you can imagine such a charade, but one semester into my studies I realised through “self reflection” and a practical exam where I had to give therapy for ten minutes to prove what i’d learned, that I straight up don’t have the empathy. I should’ve known to begin with, but I don’t. I couldn’t do it, or feel it, I had this man sitting in front of me (a classmate) talking either candidly or in character, I didn’t care to really speculate, about feeling like a failure, letting himself down. My instinct was to try to show him the things in his life that were good, snap him out of it as gently as I could but at least get him to stop talking and having those thoughts, and I was given the feedback that I shouldn’t try to hurry someone out of feeling bad, I should sit with their feeling, let them feel their feeling, reflect it back to them, show them that I’m feeling it with them. I pretended in the re-exam in order to pass, but the whole time I felt myself knowing just how on display I was, and how this was different to performing empathy in day to day life; this was real, applied, intense and unwavering empathy I had to show. I passed, and I dropped the module so that next year it will be replaced by forensic psychology. I don’t have what it takes, and I’m ok with that. But my therapist knew he had what it took. He did the schooling, got the MA, has a background in social work, he sat with pain and shared his pain and learned and cared and earned the title of Psychotherapist through the kind of work I shirked from at the first hurdle. Not only does he experience empathy, but he made a career out of it. And in that room, I was encouraged to trust him, though he could not trust me to be ill, and could not empathise at all. I admire the pretence perhaps, but I am resentful of its consequence. He has so much empathy, he thought it would be a good idea to coax traumas out of me, and in turn the trust that I would speak and confront them knowing they would finally get folded away. His attachment theory deal encouraged me to re-learn what interpersonal interactions really are, the good that people really have, the contempt I’ve been wasting. And all I have learned from him is the same I have learned since being very small: you can’t trust people. There’s no such thing as help. There’s no such thing as selflessness. There’s no such thing as empathy. There’s no such thing as trust. I am someone who does not need love. I am someone who must not ask for help. The only way to not be weakened by my trauma, is to be strengthened by it. Weakness is to talk, talking leaves you open to exploitation. Vulnerability is a curse. It’s a dog eat dog world. It’s every man for himself. And it’s funny because just last week I wondered if the mood had changed. Sociopaths, whilst hilariously low on affective empathy, can read a room, a tone, a palpable shift at the very least. I don’t know if this is because of years of studying human performance, or a hypervigilant hangover from an abusive childhood where tone-reading was essential and could be the thing that stopped you getting a beating, reading the mood and charming your way out of it before it got violent, it may even be something neurobiological, who knows. But I sensed something else. We’ve never said the words, antisocial or otherwise, but it’s known. And I think last week, he knew that he knew. Now I don’t want to get all paranoid, but I know this story very well. Sociopath walks into a therapist’s office. Sociopath is encouraged to walk right back out again.  And I wonder if the diagnosis of ASPD is a morally correct one. Why diagnose a mental illness to begin with? Well, usually because it’s causing the person distress, and could be treated to improve that person’s quality of life. But what’s the treatment for ASPD? If threadbare research has kind of sort of perhaps but maybe not “proven” that antisocials don’t respond to therapy, then is the correct way to test this half-baked theory to in fact remove that decision away from antisocials? And how many times have I heard antisocial friends tell me they’ve been refused therapy, or spoken to like shit in therapy, or dropped from therapy when their diagnosis became apparent? Is it ethical to diagnose antisocial personality disorder if you have no desire or intent whatsoever to help that person? Who is that diagnosis helping, exactly? Because there are no medications licensed, and there’s no inpatient treatment, no therapy, nothing at all unless you’re willing to pay through the nose for what is essentially guesswork. It is known that if two people commit the same crime but one of them has ASPD, that person will receive a harsher custodial sentence. Not because of what they’ve done, but what they might do in future. Is the diagnosis of ASPD a morally sound one? Who is it protecting? What purpose does it serve? I have said this before and will repeat it until my bones seize completely: antisocials are just as likely to have come from trauma and neglect as those with BPD, and cPTSD. Antisocials have extremely high rates of addiction. Antisocials are just as likely to commit suicide as borderlines, a figure we can agree is very high. But who cares about a dead sociopath?  Who cares about a living one? And if I get my therapist back, what then? What will therapy look like now I’ve lost respect and trust for this person? When they say that sociopaths don’t respond to therapy because “They’ll always just try to analyse the therapist, that’s their problem”... perhaps, yes. Because if you poke a hungry bear with a stick over and over again, the bear might bite you, even despite what studies have said about bears in captivity secretly not wanting food, based on a sample size of two bears who ate their gatekeepers. 

#aspd feels #aspd tag #actually aspd #antisocial personality disorder #antisocial #therapy #abuse #trauma #neglect #recovery #sociopath #sociopathy #psychopath #psychopathy

[johnnymundano]

Habit (2017)

Directed by Simeon Halligan

Screenplay by Simeon Halligan

Based on the novel by Stephen McGeagh

Music by Claude Foisy

Country: United Kingdom

Running Time: 96 minutes

CAST

Jessica Barden as Lee

Elliot James Langridge as Michael

William Ash as Ian

Roxanne Pallett as Alex

Sally Carman as Mand

Andrew Ellis as Dig

Louis Emerick as Dave

Joanne Mitchell as Katie

Nina Johnston as Mother 

Robert Beck as Grant

Emmanuel Ighodaro as Sean

Nigel Travis as Ray

Sally Bankes as Nurse

Mark Sheals as Chuck

Tom Wells as News Reporter

Hayley Thomas as Girl

Garth Maunders as Eddie

Natalie Ferrigno as Employment Agency Advisor

(I nicked the pics offa that there IMDB; don’t tell me parole officer, awright? Wink’s as good as a nod, eh? Sorted.)

Habit is very nearly a very good horror movie; unfortunately a careless ending unwisely opts to lean on clichés from a different genre. Which is a crying shame because until then you could easily think Habit is really onto something. C’mon, you plucky fucker, c’mon….but, no, in the end it craps out. Habit is based on a novel I haven’t read, so maybe the failure was baked in, I don’t know; I only know it flops frustratingly in the final act. The good news, though, is that there are two very good acts before that happens, and the final act isn’t all that bad; it just doesn’t carry the canny groundwork of the first two to a suitable conclusion. Basically, it suddenly and inexplicably forgets its core metaphor, which is highly peculiar because it’s such a strong one. See if you can spot it. Clue: the title.

Michael is a young scrote in Manchester, pubbing it, and, when the meagre dole allows, clubbing it. He’s a nice enough lad, but a bit easily led; usually by Dig, the typical mate who causes trouble and scarpers, leaving you in the lurch. Not a lot of oomph about Michael, maybe because of a traumatic incident in his past. Strike that; definitely because of a traumatic incident in his past, and it’s done a more obvious number on his sister, Mand, who is trying to live the straight life but is only just clinging on by her fingernails. Getting pissed, getting into trouble, driving his overprotective sister to distraction; it’s life as Michael knows it. But Michael’s comfortably numb life changes when elfin but pushy Lee barges her way into his life. Lee has a bit more about her and a few more connections to boot. Soon Michael is minding the door at a massage club as Lee and the owner, Ian, draw him into an even deeper underworld, where Michael gets a taste of something that makes life feel fookin’ magic, but is definitely illegal. Can Michael cope with the new knowledge the habit brings about himself, and can he help poor Mand, or will circumstances conspire to force an escalation in the horror and birth a climactic eruption of violence. It’s a horror movie, so no prizes for guessing, pal.

One area where Habit wins and wins big is in its authenticity. The characters feel like real people. I recognise these people from my own somewhat less than gilded past. Well, most of them; I’ve never been in a massage parlour so I’ll take the portrayal of “the girls” on trust. Elliot James Langridge is way too buff for a doley subsisting on Pot Noodles and lager, but he gives Michael a nicely reluctant air about, well, everything in the early stages. And, given what happens later, the fact he retains a very human, very sympathetic air throughout is quite remarkable. It’s important for Habit to work as well as it does, that both Michael and Lee never lose their appeal, and Jessica Barden as Lee holds her end up by never taking bolshy to an irritating extreme. Andrew Ellis as Dig is purely irritating; but that’s his whole point, that’s his character. What a dickhead, is precisely the reaction Andrew Ellis is after; and he gets it. William Ash as Ian is well good as the kind of dodgy geezer who is always seductive company; bit of a lad, inne? But Sally Carman as Mand deserves special mention. Her character could quite easily have come off as shrill and needy, a proper horrorshow, a bit of a mare, yeah? But instead we have a quite affecting display of mental illness in action, particularly that terrible bit where unfounded optimism leads to a horrible unravelling. I felt for Mand, you know. Hell, I felt for all of them. Except Dig; what a twat.

Habit builds these characters up well, and the actors give them sprightly life and it’s all very believable, all very kitchen sink. For a horror set in the mundanity of the everyday its vital that nothing rings false. A lot of Habit’s success in this is also down to a pitch perfect portrayal of Manchester after dark. It’s been a long while since I soiled the streets of Manny (you could smoke in pubs; and we did, we did) but I still recall the vibe, the weak neon glare off wet stone, the squawking of drunk lasses and the muffled thump of the lads kicking someone’s head in down an alley. Habit does a lovely job with Manchester, does it proud. Habit has characters, atmosphere and pacing, and for much of the run time it controls them adroitly. But having thought of a new way to consider an old subject, it suddenly finds it has nothing to say and decides to end like a 1970s Paul Schrader movie.  It’s not an altogether terrible ending, but Habit needed a better one. But so does Michael. And Lee. And Mand. And all of us. Except Dig. Christ, what a twat.

#Habit #Movies #Horror #United Kingdom #The 2010s #2017 #Simeon Halligan #Jessica Barden #William Ash #Sally Carman #Elliot James Langridge

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Five)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Author: Gumnut

23 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 1986

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97 A little shorter than usual, but at least you get it in one day instead of having to wait several and besides, it stopped itself there. More conversations in this. I promise the rest of the boys will make an appearance soon. I was pondering a situation at the end involving John, but I figured you’d all kill me if I put a hole in TB5 or crashed TB3, so I didn’t :D I hope you realise how much effort is being put in to not blow anything up here :D Many, many thanks for all your wonderful support and particularly regarding Em. I wasn’t sure how well I could write her, but I’ve received lots of very kind comments, so thank you ever so much ::giant group hug::

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Virgil shook himself once he made it into the hallway. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all, other than he was definitely going to have words with his brother.

Kay seemed to be forming a friendship with the doctor and as far as he was concerned, that was something to be encouraged, despite the conspiracies likely in his future. He had wondered for years if locking themselves away on an island was a good thing, particularly for his sister and grandmother. The socialising options were almost non-existent.

He frowned. In fact, he couldn’t recall Kay making any real connections with anyone since they had moved out there. Except perhaps Penny. Was that healthy? But then he hadn’t made any connections himself either. A sigh. Yet another sacrifice for International Rescue.

Skipping two floors and a couple of corridors, he approached Scott’s room. Jeremy was on duty today and Virgil smiled as the security guard held out the portable hand scanner. It could be considered ridiculous to go to this level of security, but when the Hood fools you once, you do your best to prevent it from happening again. The man’s death hadn’t changed Tracy security standard. Kayo wouldn’t allow it.

After confirming his biological identity, Virgil pulled his iR ident card out of his pocket and flashed it across the hospital’s security panel. The door slid silently open.

The room inside was dark. Virgil slipped in quietly, not wanting to disturb Scott if he was asleep.

Sleep was the main reason why his brother was so cranky in hospital. He found it almost impossible to get enough rest. Ever the light sleeper Scott would wake at the smallest disturbance. Whether it was years as a pseudo-parent to his younger siblings or as an acquired response due to the Air Force or International Rescue, his big brother could go from a dead sleep to fully alert in a split second. Useful as an emergency responder, a pain in the ass in hospital.

Virgil stepped lightly across the room to the chair beside his brother’s bed and sure enough, the older man was asleep. Scott’s hair was in his eyes and he lay on his right side, his left arm in a cast draped over his chest, keeping it clear of the injury in his abdomen. Virgil let out a breath and sat down as quietly as he could. He didn’t often see Scott asleep. Scott unconscious, yes, simply sleeping? It was rare to actually be able to approach him without waking him. The fact he wasn’t currently awake now was likely because the man was ill, medicated and exhausted.

Sliding his tablet from his back pocket, he sent a text to Kay and settled down to read his latest issue of Engineering International.

-o-o-o-

After Virgil left, the room was silent until Em broke it with a sigh. “I’m sorry I did that. Didn’t mean to blubber all over your fiancé.”

Kayo sat up straighter in her seat. “You’ve been through a lot. Be patient with yourself.”

“It shouldn’t matter. It’s not like I have lost anything I haven’t already lost.”

Kayo bit back a reply. The doctor obviously wasn’t ready to face the issue. “Give it time.”

Em didn’t answer, but looked away a moment before turning back, her expression calmer. “How is he really?”

Kayo blinked. “Virgil?” Em nodded. “His usual stubborn self. Why?”

“He comes across as a man who hides his concerns from others.”

Thoughtful. “Virgil...Virgil thinks he is protecting others from himself.” The idiot. “It’s a Tracy genetic fault.”

Em smiled. “So, I should expect similar from his brothers?”

“Oh, probably, with unique variations. Alan, you will find on the floor somewhere before he admits to it. Gordon is a drama queen. He’ll joke about breaking limbs before he admits to having broken one. John, well, where is John? Yes, he has admitted himself to hospital when you weren’t looking. And Scott? He’ll ask you ‘What injury?’ while picking pieces of himself off the floor.”

Em stared. “You really grew up with these guys, didn’t you.”

“Oh, yes. Yes I did.”

“Stressful?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She grinned and Em grinned back.

Silence fell for a moment and the doctor’s expression grew thoughtful. “Do they get injured a lot?”

That sobered Kayo. “Sometimes. It is risky work.”

“What about you?”

She shrugged. “A few times.”

“How do you cope?”

Kayo thought a moment. “We’re family. We make do.”

“But last time was different.” It wasn’t a question.

Kayo straightened her face, not really willing to speak about it. “He nearly died. Wasn’t the first time.” But it was the closest.

Em appeared to realise she was stepping on intensely private territory. “I’m sorry, it is none of my business. I just...I want to understand.” She frowned. “Why do you do it?”

“International Rescue?” Em nodded. “Because when you cry for help you need to know that there is someone out there who will answer.” It was almost a motto.

“But why you? Why your family? You sacrifice so much.”

“Who else is there? Should we step back and let someone else make the sacrifices? Somebody has to do it. We can, so we do.” A breath. “Why did you become a doctor?”

A small smile. “To help people.”

“There you go.”

Em looked down at the hands in the remains of her lap. “I will do everything I can to help Virgil, Kayo. I promise.”

Kayo smiled. “I had no doubt you would.

-o-o-o-

Some idiot in Brazil was making claims to have solved the relative ion versus reaction problem in fuel synthesizers again on page four. God, did any of these guys check their facts. Virgil had already assessed all six of those ratios for viability and they had all failed. The answer lay not in the ratio but in the temperature.  He and Brains had their synthesizers churning out fuel at three times the premium rate. They had to. They needed the quantity and the speed.

“Growling at your magazines again?”

Virgil looked up to find his brother smirking at him. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” A pause. “Well, maybe.” A one shouldered shrug.

“Sorry.”

“Eh, not your fault.” He looked about. “Where’s Kayo?”

“With Em.”

“Oh.”

“Uh huh.” He hesitated a moment, but then jumped in. “What’s with you telling her I was injured?”

“Uh.” And Scott was struggling to sit himself up. Virgil stood and helped his brother into an upright position. “Shit, that hurts.”

“Here, hold still while I shove this pillow...there. There you go. Comfortable?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Well?” Virgil sat back down.

“Well, what?”

“Why did you tell her I was injured? She told Kay.”

“I didn’t have to tell her. She asked me. Apparently, you’ve been favouring your right side and she noticed.” Virgil stared at him. “She was worried.”

“Sure.”

“It’s what happened!”

“Yeah, well, now Kay’s worried. I didn’t want to worry her.”

“Worried about what?” And Scott was frowning at him. “What exactly is wrong with you?”

Oh, crap.

“Nothing!” His big brother glared at him. “Nothing much.”

“Virgil.”

“It’s just a little ache.”

“Bullshit.”

“Scott-“

“You lie to me one more time and I’ll ground you until I get a medical report.”

“We can’t afford to do that.”

“I will not have you flying injured, Virgil! I don’t give a shit how little that injury is. Damnit, you almost died. Don’t you dare do that to me again!”

Hell. “Scott, calm down. I’m fine, honest. Just some aching muscle and puckered scars, that’s all.” He reached out and grabbed his brother’s shoulder. “I’m okay. Em’s going to help me with treatment.”

Scott stared up at him and Virgil could see the effects of medication in his eyes. Scott didn’t react quite like Virgil, falling asleep rather than confessing all his secrets, but it did make him a little more emotional.  “Honest, Scott. I’m okay.”

“You better be.”

“I am. Unlike you.”

His brother’s shoulders slumped under his fingers.

Virgil sighed. “Hey.” He squeezed gently.

“What?”

“You’ll get to go home soon.”

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “Look after yourself, Virg. Please.”

“I do.”

Scott didn’t answer.

Virgil sighed, and let go of his brother, grabbing the chair and dragging it closer to the bed before sitting down. He dropped his elbows onto the bed and his chin onto his hands. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“What?”

“Kay’s making friends with Em as we speak.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Wants to invite her over for Christmas.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. They’ve already cornered me. You’ll be next. She’s a doctor. With Kay in her back pocket, we’re doomed.”

Scott snorted, smirked, and started laughing.

Virgil looked up at him. “What’s so funny? I thought you were cranky.”

“You. You are so screwed.”

“Hah! Thanks.” He glared. “Remember you’ve got rehab ahead of you.”

“Crap.”

“Oh yeah. We’re totally screwed.”

-o-o-o-

“Do you have any plans after leaving the hospital?”

Kayo’s expression was a polite enquiry, but Em sensed she had more to say. “I’ll go home, I guess. Get myself set up with a new array of mobility devices. I’m thinking maybe a hoverscoot rather than the chair. Less bulk.”

“What about Christmas?”

Em shrugged. “Can’t say I feel like celebrating this year.” At Kayo’s concerned expression, she hurried to amend. “Don’t worry, I’ll get over it. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, Virgil.” And Kayo was glaring at her.

“Okay, fine. Do you have any better suggestions?”

“I was thinking you could join us on Tracy Island.”

Em blinked and stared. “What?”

An arched eyebrow. “Would you like to join us for Christmas?”

“Go out and stay on Tracy Island, the super secret base of International Rescue and the Thunderbirds?”

“Of course, we’d have to blindfold you and drug you on the way over.”

Em stared.

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

Kayo was smiling at her, not unkindly. “You would be very welcome.”

The thought filled her with amazement. The whole star struck feeling wrapping around her brain and buzzing her out. It was an amazing opportunity. She could thank Alan for his assistance. Meet the other brothers. Maybe see a Thunderbird. Finally meet Scott without him bleeding all over her.

That last cleared the fuzz. She had been enjoying talking to him. He had an interesting sense of humour and a lovely smile. Those eyes...

She shook herself. What the hell was she thinking? Look at yourself, Emaline. You’re a mess.

“Em? Are you okay?”

She forced a smile. “Um, thank you so much. I never expected...can I think about it?”

Kayo frowned a little. “Of course. Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m good.” And she suddenly wanted to be alone. To think or to cry, she wasn’t sure. Probably both.

The woman’s green eyes obviously didn’t believe her. “We’re not all that scary, you know.”

“It’s not you.” And she realised she had admitted there was a problem. Damn. At the inevitable arched eyebrow. “It’s me. I just...let me think about it. Please.”

Kayo reached out and took Em’s hand, holding it between her palms. Her skin was soft and her touch gentle. “Em, I know it sounds like a big ask. A bit dazzling perhaps. But really, we are just a family inviting you over for Christmas. Grandma can’t cook, so don’t eat anything she offers you. Virgil can bake and barbecue a great steak. Scott will burn the burgers, but he pours a good wine. Gordon may stick tinsel down the back of your shirt, but you have my permission to thump him. We...I would like your company. No expectations, just a time to relax and enjoy good conversation.”

Em stared at her and her voice came out small. “Okay.”

A genuine smile spread across Kayo’s face. It lit up her features. She squeezed her hand gently. “Thank you.”

Oh, shit, she’d just said yes.

Bloody hell.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five

Part Six

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #kayo kyrano #scott tracy #virgil/kayo #scott/oc #warm rain

[tabooneko]

Diabolik Lovers More Blood Limited V Edition - 365 days with a vampire - Laito’s part ~Could he be seriously sick?!~

Hi there~

I have a short, but interesting translation for you today~

A few days ago @vampiretsuki made a great summary of this bonus drama CD and I found some time to translate a whole track, so here you are~ With a special dedication to @violet-sin <3

My favorite part of this drama cd is Laito’s last sentence, it’s pretty... deep and adorable? ;D

Btw. I still don’t have much time to translate, so you will have to wait a little longer for new chapters and stuff, sorry ;_;

Japanese title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD LIMITED V EDITION いまじん特典 「ヴァンパイアとの365日 ライト編 ～もしかして、重病人！？～」

English title: Diabolik Lovers More Blood Limited V Edition Imajin Bonus - 365 days with a vampire - Laito’s part ~Could he be seriously sick?!~

Cast: Sakamaki Laito (CV. Hirakawa Daisuke),

Duration: 12:16

Translation: TabooNeko

If you spot any mistakes, please let me know, so I can correct them. Thanks! ;D

And please don’t repost!

00:07

Ah... There you are, Bitch-chan... Hey, hey, I’m feeling a little... bad for a while... Eh? Are you asking if I’m alright? Of course I’m not. That’s why I’ve been looking for you. Hey, I’m going to the school infirmary now, so come with me. Eh? You still have some class duties to do? Do them later. Hey, Bitch-chan, is your work more important than my condition? How cruel... Ah, maybe you think that I’m simulating? Since I’m a vampire it’s impossible for me to get sick, huh? It’s not true, you know. I’m really feeling bad today. Even if I’m a vampire, my condition can worsen from time to time. A normal girl may not get it, but... I was sure that if it’s you, you will notice even a small change in my condition. Who would have thought that you will suspect me of simulating... I’m... so shocked that I feel like I’ll fall down. Aaah~ If you say something like that, it really makes me feel dizzy. Aaaah~ Bitch-chan~ I can’t take it anymore, I’m falliiiiing-... Ah, it was dangerous. If you didn’t catch me... Hmm... You’re right. For now it’d be best to go to the school infirmary. Hey, of course you will take me there, right? Yay! Then let’s hurry up and go. Huh? I’m clinging to much to you? It can’t be helped! Because I’m so dizzy I can’t walk by myself. Let’s leave that aside and just go, hurry up~!

 04:30

Huh? There is no one here? Looks like school doctor is absent today. Look, there is doctor’s white gown on that chair. If he left it here, it means that he won’t be back for a while. But here came a seriously sick student to see him. What should we do now? It can’t be helped~ Hey, of course you will nurse me in doctor’s place, right? Nfu~ Then let’s start right away. Hey, come here. Then first, wear it. Huh? What? As you can see, it’s the white gown doctor has left here. Hey, hey, you can’t take it off. You said you will nurse me, right? Since doctor is not here. Geez, like I said, you’re a school doctor now, so you have to wear a white gown. Nfu~ Eh? It’s okay! You know the saying “sickness and health start with the mind”, right? If you nurse me in that white gown, it will boost my spirit and I have a feeling that my condition will immediately get better. You won’t do it no matter what? Hmm, hey, please! Only for now listen to my selfish request. Yay! I love you, Bitch-chan! Ah, seeing you in the white gown is unbearable. Hey, hey, doctor, I’m somehow feeling really bad. I’m dizzy and my head hurts. What do you think it is? But you know what? The worst symptom is... I’m not sure why, but I just can’t help it, but want to have you all to myself. What should I do, doctor? Huh? You finally noticed? I told you I’m not feeling well, but it’s not because of cold or something. In the first place, we vampires can’t catch a cold. But you know what? It’s true that I wasn’t feeling well. Because today, you were talking with a boy from your class at every opportunity. Like I said. I mean that boy you were doing class duties with. He was pretty nice to you, huh. You know, at first I was aroused every time I saw that bitchy side of you. But somehow at some point it stopped being interesting. I’m sure it’s also some kind of illness. Because, look, it happened again. I can’t calm down unless I hug you like this. I don’t want to let you go anywhere. Ah~ It’s so troublesome. Who would have thought that I will get jealous. Hey, Bitch-chan, this whole situation is all your fault, you know? So you will listen to my another selfish request, right? I want you to kiss me. I won’t feel assured unless you do it. Heey~ Look over here. Look... at me. *kiss* Nfu~ I’m glad. Now I’m relieved. Now that I’m assured, I somehow got hungry. Hey, let me drink your blood a little. Oh my, my. Will my weird illness get better now? *sucking* Ah, it’s no good. It’s not getting better at all. On the contrary, I feel like it’s growing worse. *sucking* I love you and can’t get enough - that’s my troublesome illness. *sucking*

 THE END

#diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers more blood #sakamaki laito #komori yui #drama #more blood #drama cd #drama cd translation #diabolik lovers translation #translation #diabolik lovers more blood limited v edition

[abadzone]

A Weekly Song: Episode 11 – Goldie Presents Metalheads (or is that Metalheadz?)

Goldie Presents Metalheads - Inner City Life

There were a lot of anthems in the air in the mid-90s. By anthem, I mean popular tracks that stuck around; that seemed to exemplify a movement, a state of mind… for want of a better term, an attitude. Examples: Soul II Soul’s Keep On Moving and Back II Life (However Do You Want Me), The Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony, Massive Attack’s Unfinished Sympathy, Pulp’s Common People.

Each heralded an aspect of British youth poking its head above the parapet of the relative safety of its own dedicated teenage bedroom audience and making serious inroads into mainstream culture. Pop was already embedded in TV shows, movie soundtracks, documentaries, but now more “marginal” sounds were becoming a part of mainstream culture, making their voices heard in clubs and on pirate stations but also represented on TV and public radio. The old hierarchies were breaking down, just a little.

Some context: at the end of the eighties, everything changed in British yoof culture. First you had acid house and the dance/rock crossover, a sort of cross-pollination of club culture and the indie scene that itself grew out of post-punk, electronica and a broader early eighties multiculturalism (remember that? It’s become a dirty word now, as if human beings haven’t always been multicultural, as if people mixing socially is somehow now unfashionable. If you visit the town in the next valley over, that’s being multicultural. So is visiting your next door neighbour. Your identity and traditions won’t be erased by doing so). 

In the early nineties there was Madchester, then came shoegazing which begat a great many bands that later became household names via Britpop, a media-invented idea AKA Cool Britannia that grouped all manner of different bands and outfits under one cultural umbrella for easier export to the rest of the world. There was also British hip-hop (and trip-hop); you had techno and rave and its various sub-genres, there was bhangra, ragga, dark ‘ardkore which evolved into jungle and later, drum ‘n ‘bass. I remember first becoming really properly aware of it at the Notting Hill Festival in either 1993 or 1994 where I registered a sound system playing something that sounded like breakbeats and techno with dub or ragga inflections, something fast and new. It caught my ear and it got into my brain and burrowed right down into my digestive tract. I loved it. British youth culture was rapidly morphing into bountiful new shapes, a creative Hydra with many and ever more collaborative heads, each one abundant with new ideas and potentials.

Every year is the best year ever for music** because there’s always something new happening somewhere, but in retrospect (especially the middle-aged kind of hindsight) perhaps not every period is as fertile as others. There was a lot going on in the mid-nineties, and I, a music loving “underground cartoonist,” was in the middle of it.

That is, in early 1994, I had no idea what I was doing. I was recovering from an ill-advised and short-lived marriage plus a resultant nervous breakdown; I was skint, I was lonely and I was ambitious; I had big ideas of how I could so something different with comics and help make them into a communications and storytelling art form that would be as fluid and abstract as music. Little did I know, it was already doing that with or without me, but anyway, ah! …the hubris of youth. I was a ball of confusion, a knot of creativity with a burning need to put it somewhere. (I did, but that’s another story.) I wanted something to change, I wanted to be changed, but I didn’t know what or how.

It was around this time that I became aware of this. I forget when exactly I heard Inner City Life for the first time, but of all the anthems around, this one captivated me the most, made its way onto the internal tape loop in my mind. It sounded like it was from the future, but it seemed to coalesce from everything surrounding me.

Certainly I heard it in the DnB clubs that emerged around that time – maybe at the Mars Bar, to which me and my mate Caspar would trek from the western suburbs so we could experience the dizzy heights of happening central London nightlife. There were many drum ‘n’ bass anthems, for sure, but this one made it onto TV. Seeing the video on some late-night yoof show was cathartic somehow – it opened with a shot of a shopping trolley going over the balcony of a tower block not unlike the one my gran lived on.

“Come to me…”

Diane Charlemagne was familiar to audiences for her appearances with Urban Cookie Collective, who’d had a couple of chart hits, but this was something else. Suddenly she was a sepia-toned diva calling across the rooftops and the airwaves, acknowledging the loneliness and burden of pressures that living in the big city brings. She was joining dots as if all the different anthems were pins on the urban map of modern British music. The tower blocks and council estates were marked just as surely as the pennants atop the Houses of Parliament were.

“I need to be, I need to be…

Living free”

The track was credited to Goldie presents Metalheads (later Metalheadz), known to me for a track called Terminator, but Inner City Life was an entirely different beast, a kind of yearning mutant soul music fuelled by both paranoia and tenderness.

In mainstream terms, it wasn’t the huge hit that some of the other anthems mentioned at the top of this piece were, but for me it remains one of the definitive statements of 90s British music. It transcends all barriers, classes, backgrounds and yes, to my ears, it was a statement of the kind of hopeful (and multicultural) Cool Britannia a lot of other acts were being marketed as, but Inner City Life was the true dark horse, the outsider who found its way up from the streets.

Before finding its way onto Goldie’s sprawling debut album Timeless (as one movement in the opening title track), Inner City Life was remixed and re-released so many times, I lost count. I had the original 12” single and another pressing that featured mixes by other DnB luminaries, my favourite being Doc Scott’s version that showcased Charlemagne’s vocals.

I loved the way the music itself was so mutable and yet remained recognisable, no matter whose hands touched it. There was an egalitarianism to the way Goldie (and his partner-in-production Rob Playford) shared the track, allowing numerous interpretations. In fact, he’s still playing around with it – a new mix was made available last year for Record Store Day.

Over the years, all sorts of superlatives have been heaped upon Timeless, which is certainly a great album and a defining document of that mid-to-late nineties era of extreme creativity in British music, but I’m not sure anything could ever match the feeling the initial release and the remixes generated in me.

And just to give you a sense of what a beautiful song it is, one that stands the test of being stripped to its basics, here’s a version featuring Jhelisa Anderson – yes, she of The Shamen fame and a formidable solo artist in her own right. Listen and enjoy.

Notes

Diane Charlemagne died in 2015 of kidney cancer at the terribly young age of 51. She was rightly celebrated by the DnB scene and beyond. 

The cover version of Inner City Life featuring Jhelisa is by German Jazz outfit [Re:jazz] from their album Point of View and it also features on Goldie’s “Masterpiece” Ministry of Sound mix collection.

At the end of 2009 when I moved from the UK to the USA, the wrong box of vinyl was sent to a charity shop and I accidentally gave away both the original 12” single version of Inner City Life, several remixes, plus a whole load of other DnB vinyl I hadn’t intended to part with. Still kicking myself about that. Oh, well… someone found ‘em and enjoyed them and the money went to a good cause, so, good karma, eh? I still have the CD collection…

*Consider the similarity between the two videos of Bittersweet Symphony and Unfinished Sympathy. One has Richard Ashcroft walking down a British street in one single, unbroken shot, the other had fellow Brit Shara Nelson doing the same in east LA. Two people from two musical collectives walking towards each other, at opposite sides of the planet at different ends of western culture.

**To paraphrase David Stubbs. I think.

Not everybody loved Britpop.

Metalheadz - still going, listen more.