#to be fair i don’t think ive stopped listening to that song all year | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caramelcal · 3 years

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heartbreak girl

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: ik i have requests to write (i am writing them don’t worry !) but i got super inspired when i was listening to my bbys 5sos

the luke hemmings / luke patterson comparison videos ive seen are my favourites, love it when two fandoms collide lollll

disclaimer: i do not condone plagiarism on my work at all, this has not been posted on any other platforms, or on tumblr anywhere else but my account (rosemoonmist) if you see anyone plagiarizing mine (or anyone else’s work for that matter) please inform the rightful author ! thank you lovelies x

masterlist

You call me up It's like a broken record Saying that your heart hurts That you'll never get over him getting over you And you end up crying And I end up lying 'Cause I'm just a sucker for anything that you do

You couldn’t stop playing the video. Ever since it was sent you from a random number, you couldn’t stop crying. The video was barely ten seconds long, but it was ten seconds that broke your heart. There your boyfriend was, clear as day, kissing a girl that wasn’t you.

It isn’t long before you heard the front door open and slam behind someone, reminding you of who you told to come over. Luke, your best friend since you guys met in the sandpit at six years old. When he accidentally pushed you in, so you kicked him in the nuts. You guys had been inseparable ever since.

Luke was your best friend, and you were his. You guys had been through everything together. When he first learned guitar, when you did gymnastics, when he joined a band, when you guys first went to high school, and now, your first heartbreak.

“y/n?” He calls from downstairs, looking around the dark room. He had learned from a young age to just come into your house without knocking, your house was his second home after all.

Of course, you do have a few female friends that you could have called but none of them knew you as well as Luke did and you knew Luke would be there with you through everything. He would understand. He would comfort you better than any girl ever could. You walked down the stairs, trying to keep your sobs in but once you caught eyes with Luke, the tears started to fall.

“Luke,” You let out, looking at the boy barely keeping yourself together.

“y/n/n, what’s wrong?” Luke questions, eyes wracking over your defeated posture before looking up at your puffy red eyes. It was clear you had been crying, but why?

“He- he-,” You cut yourself short, letting back a choked sob as you land at the bottom of the stairs, Luke walking closer to you, his face looking at you with concern, “Luke he was with another girl, he cheated-”

Mind wracking back over the video, you broke down into tears, falling into Luke’s now open arms. Suddenly, once you're in the arms of your best friend all of your walls come crashing down and you start to cry louder, letting out every emotion you felt that night. The sadness, betrayal, and overall heartbreak.

Luke holds the back of your head soothingly as you cry into his chest, playing softly with the hair on your head. By this point, he is supporting all of your weight but he doesn’t mind as he lifts you over to the couch, allowing you to continue crying in a more comfortable position than the awkward standing position you were in moments before.

Whilst Luke was sad hearing you cry, he was overcome with anger. The fact that the scum would cheat, on you of all people. You were amazing, perfect even, so why would someone ever give away the chance of being with you? He knew he wouldn’t. Luke knew how much you loved and cared for the boy, Jack, and to see him cheat on you, he couldn’t help but be furious.

If he was being honest, the thing he wanted more than anything right now was to hook him right in the face. Punch him right where he stood, busting open his face so that no other girl would ever want to kiss him again. It’s what he deserves. Luke knew he was probably being a bit overprotective, but that didn’t matter to him, what mattered was that you were okay right now.

The last thing you needed in your state of fragility was Luke leaving you by yourself to set into the dickhead. Oh no, that could be done another time when you weren’t crying. What you truly needed right now was his comfort, so that’s what he gave you. He held you close, not even saying anything but hugging you closely, silently reminding you that he was here for you and always would be as you softly lulled into a sleep.

And when then phone call finally ends You say "Thanks for being a friend" And I'm going in circles again and again

I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl

Walking down the hall, Luke’s eyes catch onto you. Even though he’s been with you all weekend, comforting you after the video you saw on Friday, just looking at you is a sad reminder of how you are doing. A frown has fallen onto your face whilst you look over at something. Following your gaze, Luke finds him, Jack, with his arm wrapped around the girl in the video.

He wants to punch that stupid smirk off Jack’s face, then they’ll see who’s truly laughing. When Luke’s eyes drift back over to you, he feels his stomach dropping slightly. The look in your gaze makes you look broken, eyes conveying a sense of vulnerability that Luke didn’t think was possible. Maybe it’s just because Luke knows you better and knows how to read you better than everyone else, but he notices all of the changes in you. He sees how your eyes lacked the sparkle they usually had, your usual smile not present, even your outfit seemed a little dull. Nonetheless, you’re still gorgeous, Luke thinks so, but you look different; less lively.

All of this heartbreak just because of a stupid boy. One stupid hard-headed jock that doesn’t know how to truly value the important things in his life. The stupid jock that didn’t know how much you were truly worth.

Luke knows he could treat you so much better if you just gave him the chance to. If you looked his way instead of Jack’s. He would hold you close and never let you go, let you know just how much you meant to him and those truly important around you. He would watch you like the only person in the world because you were the only one that mattered.

He doesn’t even realize he was staring at you until he hears a cough sound from behind him as Reggie puts an arm over his shoulder, smirking, “You’re staring, pal.”

Luke, who’s eyes briefly glanced over towards Reggie when the bassist spoke, glanced back at you quickly, sighing lightly in relief when he realizes you didn’t notice him staring at you. He shrugs half-heartedly, not noticing the knowing look that Reggie gives him as he speaks, “I can’t, Reg. I’m not supposed to like her like this, she’s my best friend.”

“Best friend or not, I see the way you look at her, everyone does but her,” Reggie says before patting his friend on the back.

“She still likes him Reg, and I’ve known her since we were six. She’s been in so many relationships yet she fell for the stupid jock,” Luke says, shaking his head as his fists clench at his sides. He doesn’t realize but his face contorts into anger, making Reggie smirk, “she deserves so much better. She deserves someone who’s going to appreciate her. Someone who will show her how much she means to them-”

“Someone like you?” Reggie asks, making Luke glance at him with an annoyed expression, huffing. Reggie shrugs his shoulders, “Just saying man if anyone knows y/n it’s you. You just gotta be there for her and she’ll realize how much you mean to her. I mean, everyone thinks you guys are meant for each other, soon she’ll see that too.”

I bite my tongue But I wanna scream out You could be with me now But I end up telling you what you wanna hear But you're not ready And it's so frustrating He treats you so bad and I'm so good to you, it's not fair

And when the phone call finally ends You say "I'll call you tomorrow at 10" And I'm stuck in the friendzone again and again

Luke is frustrated. It has been two weeks since his conversation with Reggie, and the hope Reggie had given him for pursuing a relationship was surely fizzling out. Reggie was wrong, that’s what Luke thought anyway. Not only had you not realized how much Luke was bending his back for you, going out of his way to comfort you, being there for you 24/7, you had been so utterly stupid. Jack had given you the most insincere apology known to man, and you were meeting up with him for a date.

It had been forty-seven minutes since you had left, not that Luke was counting or anything and he still hadn’t heard a word from you. No text, no call, nothing. Jack was probably taking up all of your attention with his boring jock stories or his lame jokes. He probably didn’t even compliment you when you arrived and that was practically criminal.

You had been all dressed up when you left, not that Jack would have even noticed, but Luke did. He noticed the way the outfit you wore looked perfect on you, complimenting everything about you and most importantly, how confident you felt in it. You deserved more than a boy that wouldn’t even tell you that you were pretty, Luke knew that, he just wished you did too.

He paces around his room, feet aggressively hitting the ground. He wanted to punch something, to let out all of the anger and frustration that was itching, begging to be released. Yet, his anger was cut short when he heard his phone start to ring.

“Hello?”

“Lu?” Your voice sounded through his phone, ringing in his ears.

“Y/n?” Luke said in confusion, eyes glancing up at the time, “Aren’t you supposed to be on your date?”

You hesitate to answer, a complete silence hanging in the air until your light sniffles sound through the phone, “He didn’t show, Lu. M-My mom dropped me off, I don’t have my car. Can you come pick me up?”

“I’ll be there in 10, stay there y/n/n.”

Luke ran out of the house.

I know someday it's gonna happen And you'll finally forget the day you met him Sometimes I'm so close to confession I gotta get it through your head That you belong with me instead

Luke couldn’t help but smile at you, hazel eyes meeting your e/c eyes as he strung his guitar expertly. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you to be at band practices, actually, you were at a large amount of them. It was normal for you to watch the band, well that’s what you said you were doing, but you were only really looking at Luke.

You didn’t play any musical instruments properly, but you could play a little guitar from what Luke had taught you. You remembered his teaching you, arms wrapped around you, hands guiding your fingers onto the different frets, playing different cords. He didn’t give up when you messed up, and instead, he smiles and shows you again, your back flushed against his chest.

It was no secret that you always enjoyed watching their band practice and perform, but it was different this time because they had gotten you to stop thinking about Jack. This was the first day that you didn’t feel miserable and instead felt happy in their presence. It was the first day that your gleaming smile returned, one that all members of the band had missed.

Soon enough, they were finished, congratulating each other on how well they played with large smiles.

“We’re gonna sound great at the rally!” Reggie says, flipping his bass down to his side so he didn’t have to hold it as he gave Luke a high five before turning to Alex, all of them breathing heavily with huge smiles.

“Of course, we’re still finishing with the other song, right?” Alex asked, eyes looking over at Luke for approval. He nodded his head, making you look at them in confusion.

“What other song?”

Luke glanced over to you, walking closer before kneeling beside you, guitar still in his hand, smirking “Can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.”

You groaned lightly, flinging your head back before giving the boy your puppy eyes, “Please? I won’t tell.”

He laughed lightly, shaking his head at you. Over the years, he had often been the victim to your puppy eyes, and whilst he often found them irresistible, he knew he couldn’t tell you this secret. He playfully slapped you on the arm, “Get those puppy eyes away, they’re not gonna work today.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, standing up before you stood up alongside Luke, who slung an arm over your shoulder. You guys shared a look, almost communicating through your eyes, something that you guys had gotten freakishly good at since you were kids.

“So, who wants to go grab a smoothie?” Luke said, turning his attention towards the rest of the band as you jumped on his back, ready to leave practice for smoothies.

Soon enough, the rally at school came and the students surround the stage that the band was playing on. You stood at the back, proudly watching them as they played. Their most recent song blasts through the halls, exciting the students more than you had seen for the previous people on stage, even Dirty Candy. Sweat drips off of them, lights blazing down on them with intensity.

Eyes looking at Luke, you see him jump around when he sings and it brings a smile to your face. You knew this was their surprise song, the song that they were ending with because it was an unfamiliar tune, but one that Luke was pouring every feeling into as he sang the lyrics.

Suddenly, he’s no longer playing his guitar and it’s hanging on the strap by his side, mic detached from the stand and he’s making his way off of the stage and running through the crowd. You’re astonished, not only because Luke is running off stage, but that it somehow isn’t affecting his vocals.

Everyone seems to knowingly make a path for him to run through, almost as if they know where he is going to. Your eyes stay on him as he comes through the crowd, slowing down to a walk as he begins to sing again,

“I dedicate this song to you The one who never sees the truth That I can take away you hurt Heartbreak girl

Hold you tight straight through the daylight I'm right here, when you gonna realise That I'm your cure? Heartbreak girl.”

His eyes meet yours when he is standing barely feet away from you. His hair is messed up, dripping with sweat but you barely notice. When he stops singing, he lifts the mic away from his face and holds it down away from both of your faces so that it can’t pick up what you’re saying.

People start to talk between themselves, all of them staring at you and Luke standing barely a foot apart, eyes gazing into one another but you don’t notice because you’re too busy looking at Luke. You’re speechless, heart racing faster than you thought humanly possible, with lips slightly apart before he whispers to you, “This is for you, my heartbreak girl.”

Then, his free hand makes its way up and cups your cheek, and his lips connect with yours.

#luke patterson #luke julie and the phantoms #luke patterson x reader #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms x reader #charlie gillespie #julie and the phantoms luke #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #luke patterson x y/n #luke jatp

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ravireyes · 3 years

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ravi’s instagram — the 2020 birthdays, part iv. — marcus reyes

my husband turns 31 today.

marcus reyes, you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars. i'm sorry that i can't stop saying the word husband every chance i get. i reckon i'm 3 years away from saying "hubby" unironically and i'm sorry about that too.

i woke up feeling sensitive, i guess we can blame scorpio season for that (cursed). not bad sensitive, though, good sensitive. don't worry (i know you will). and it got me thinking of the first time i cried in front of you. i'm not a big crier, we both know that, i think i can count on my hands the times i've ever sobbed in my life.

it was probably some time in early 2017, we had a date night, still freshly-announced official partners, mere months into this brand new thing. we went out to the theatre, because i asked you to take me. mind you, i have never liked musicals in my life. not one. and yet, the idea of having an excuse to dress up and be taken out like that just thrilled me. it was the glitz and glam of it all, and the idea of being seen with you, i guess. i told you i never needed a ring or any kind of proof of our love, but i'm not going to deny i enjoy parading around with your hand on my back.

well, we went for phantom of the opera, which in hindsight is a bold choice for two people who couldn't care less about theatre. i don't think i even understood the story for the first hour of it, but then! then this number comes up, the song is called "all i ask of you". christine and raoul are declaring their love for each other on a rooftop, beautifully orchestrated music starts to swell.

god, i certainly did not care for the play before, but suddenly i was paying a little too much attention. "let me be your freedom," he sings, and that was the first punch to the gut. "say you need me with you, now and always," she sings back. "say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," he asks, and she asks him the same on the next verse. i was weeping. which was honestly pretty embarrassing for a date so early into the relationship, and for someone who claimed to be such a non-crier.

i'll spare everyone from quoting the entirety of the lyrics here, you can give it a listen later. to summarise, it's about this couple coming together, and how all they ask of each other is love. to be loved. raoul waxes poetical about keeping her safe, christine goes on about her fears and her woes, they both offer the other everything, and they don't ask for much in return. "love me, that's all i ask of you". the song builds, and builds, and peaks in this explosive moment where they belt in unison "anywhere you go, let me go too -- love me, that's all i ask of you". and the song fades out with them, mellow and soft.

god, i cried a fair bit, quietly. my heart hammering away in my chest, tears gathering in my eyelashes. but see, it was confusing, this cry felt different from anything i could compare it to. again, not a big crier, but i had cried watching romance once before; when i was a lonely teenager living in a shitty flat in a corner of the city, i bawled my eyes out watching pretty woman. and back then, it was just that, being a lonely kid. wanting love, yearning for something i could never quite get my hands on, feeling like i wasn't made for it. this cry wasn't like that. because i had you.

you leaned closer and whispered to ask if i was okay. i sniffled, and wiped my tears, and stubborn as ever i said i was just coming down with a cold. you were sweet enough to not call me out on a blatant lie, but you squeezed my hand really tight and didn't let go for the rest of the night.

i cried because i finally got it. i finally had what every movie, every song, every play was written about. i cried because you, with your warm heart and your hands that feel like something sacred, you loved me. and you taught me how to love. i know you did, because i've never felt like this for anyone before.

so much of me, i owe to you. i think you really put me back together, when we first met -- that's what you always do, you put people back together. you bear the weight of the skies on your shoulders, and you still have time to hold all of us in your arms, too. a knight, a protector, you wield a sword but you never let the weight of the armour crush you, because you're good like that. you're strong, and tender. you're patient. you're my home, my safe haven, my lighthouse. i thank the stars every night for whatever led me to you. i think i'd be doomed to a life of agony if we'd never met -- quite frankly, dear, i don't like to imagine a world in which i can't reach for your hand over every table, across every bed, in the middle of any play.

you are the best person i've ever met. you are the love of my life, my better half, my entire heart. i am so proud, and so grateful, and so happy to be your spouse. happy, happy, happy, you just make me so happy and i can't shut up about it. i'm happy you took another trip around the sun, and that you chose to do it by my side. i can't thank you enough, for loving me. and for being you. i love every corner, every crevice, every line of you.

anywhere you go, let me go too. please?

i've written enough now, i need to go back to putting together your surprise breakfast in bed. thank you for sleeping in, for once (you're welcome for actually tiring you out last night to make this a possibility). i hope you love your presents. and me. i hope you always love me. that's all i ask, and all i need.

i love you, always.

happy bday, @itsmarcusreyes !

#( with : marcus )#edit ;;#musings ;;#the piece de resistance #this series was Fun #also need everyone to know i wrote this in my head while i was driving in the highway #couldnt stop to write it down but i was so scared i'd forget it #so when i finally got home i just sat in the driveway and typed FURIOUSLY into my notes #my mom walked out to greet me and saw me just sitting there typing she was so confused #id like to thank andrew lloyd webber for sponsoring this post #and sorry for double posting everyone i ruined my own schedule #but it felt appropriate to post marcus' today too #4/4 babeyyy thank u everyone i am now retired forever

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years

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just saw your pinned post and aaa!!! please could we have #49?? mclennon ofc ;)

thank you love 💗

49. “I cant stop thinking about you”

“Id give you everything I got for a little piece a mind!” And with that, he finalised the song.

“Its...its good.” Paul said awkwardly - he’d been put into an uncomfortable position by John, hearing him sing a song that was so clearly about him. A song so distraught, a clear cry for help - and it was Paul evoking these cries as well.

“Yeah, well...” he grumbled, “its one I came up with in India, y’know.” Of course he knew, he’d known within seconds of hearing it - this was a song about their argument. The one that had taken place in India, and the one that has acted as a clear indicator that their relationship has changed; there is no longer an innocence to it, nor is there a nonchalance and ease to it either.

“Um, is it...” Paul wanted to ask if it was about him, though of course he knew it was, still it would be nice to have a little less ambiguity. Instead he opted for asking, “Are you- are you okay?”

With some sterility and a cutting edge coldness to his voice, John responded “Yeah. Never been better.”

Paul nodded at this, not reassured. After something of an awkward silence, John stated, “Ive gotta be goin’ actually - ‘m seeing someone.”

“Alright then, have a good one-like.” Paul said trying to at least finalise their conversation with some normalcy - but watching John just about to leave the room, he felt this ending just didn’t sit right - he had to enquire further, and so in a small voice he called out, “...John?”

“Yeah?”

To his own surprise, he found himself bluntly stating, “Yer not alright; can ye please talk to me?”

“I am talkin’ to ye.” He began to make his way back over to Paul, taking a seat beside him. “Ive been talking to you fer 11 bloody years now - and im still not gettin’ through to you.”

“What’ve you been tryin’ to get through to me?”

John looked away from him, he indicated the answer, but he couldn’t bear to speak the words ‘I love you’ out loud; at least not with such sincerity. He changed the subject, adding, “I cant stop thinking about you. Yer askin’ me if im alright - course im not, ive got you on me fuckin’ mind all the time.”

“I...I didnt know...” Paul trailed off here, he never was good at expressing himself so openly. “I, um, I cant stop thinking about you either.”

Spitefully, he retorted, “Yer full of shit Macca.”

“‘M bein’ honest here John - I cant stop thinking about you, cause im worried about you. Yer drinking a lot, tripping a lot - you show up at the studio and you’re angry or depressed or something or other. Im worried. I want you to be happy.”

He was met with bitter, even resentful response, “Yer not worried about me, you just dont like me bein’ an inconvenience. What if something were to come out, all over the news ‘The Beatles are all really just bastards, like every other fuckin’ human being on the planet’.”

“I dont give a shit about that-“

“Just admit it Paul, you care more about yer reputation then you do about me.”

“Thats not true! And you’re not being fair here either. Im sorry about what happened in India, but-“

“For fucks sake, will ye fuck off with India!” John was always somebody so quick to anger, most people found him impossible to get too close to on the basis that his moods were simply so inconsistent; but Paul had always been able to keep up with him. “Its fuckin’ over now, alright. I gave you a proposition, and you said you you don’t want me-“

“I do want you - I want you so bad, alright? And I dont want to let you go completely, but why cant we keep this casual y’know. If we took it to the level you’re suggesting, we’d both be ruined.” He paused, taking a small breath, and continued, “Im sorry that I cant love you like you want me too, but I want kids someday, and you know, yer right - I don’t want the whole world to hate me, im a coward and you know that. Im sorry, John - but could we not just keep ‘us’ casual?”

John couldn’t bare to shout at him again, because he didn’t want to shout anymore. He been screaming at the world his whole life, and it had never made a difference; no one had ever listened to him. He might as well have just been screaming at brick walls. And so in an agonised voice, he echoed with complete honesty, “If we keep this casual, if I cant have you all the time y’know, if I have to share you with a thousand other birds-like - im gonna lose me fucking mind, Paul. Im going mad already. And I cant stand it any longer; I want you, and only you.”

Paul sighed in response - neither party could give the other exactly what they wanted, and yet they wanted just the same thing.

***

Sorry im taking so long with posting these requests!! I have an essay to write for school today, but after that ive literally got NO homework (whoooooo) so ill be writing up the other fic requests I have in my inbox this week (and maybe uploading another chapter to my longer fic on AO3 called ‘Some People Never Know’)

Keep sending requests in if you want <3

#fanfic #my work #asks #angst #mclennon #mclennon fanfic

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thinkingimmensely · 3 years

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Okay. IV

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

A/N: I have a sudden burst in inspiration and finally finished this chapter! Here’s to the hope this streak continues *crosses fingers*. I know it’s been forever and IDK if you guys still read this but I’m still trying my best to update as soon as I can, haha. I have also been reading fanfics again, thus a boost in creative juice.

Stay safe in these trying times everyone!

MATERLIST

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the Potterverse!

___________________

“Are you mental? What in the world were you doing back there?” You yelled as your friend laid in the sofa nonchalantly, throwing a ball up in the air and catching it as it fell back down, as if without a care in the world. You flicked your wand at the ball and it catapulted itself to the other side of the room before Sirius could even catch it again. “Listen to me!”

“What’s the point?” He groaned and turned his back to you.

You flicked your wand towards him and made him roll over and fall off the couch. “That was extremely rash. Careless and impatient of you.” You scolded as your friend rubbed his back in pain. “They changed the portrait,” you informed him as you ran a hand through your hair, “that annoying Sir Cadogan, still ranting on and on about knighthood I reckon.”

“Well, you didn’t have any other brilliant idea, did you? Besides, what were you doing there in the first place?” He finally asked. When he entered the house hours ago after his failed attempt on getting inside the Gryffindor common room, he was welcomed by darkness and a letter from Dumbledore in the counter you left. It was nearly 4AM and you just arrived a few minutes ago.

“You read the letter, didn’t you? Dumbledore invited me, plus, I wanted to see Harry.” You mumbled the last part.

Sirius smirked and approached you as you took a seat. “Did they all have their knickers in a twist?” He asked, his voice laced with mischief, as if he was actually proud with the reckless stunt he pulled.

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, typical Black and his love to get into different heart-stopping situations. That was where he and Remus differed- Remus was your calm, and Sirius was like a whirlwind bent on destroying everything he passed through. Speaking of Remus, you still couldn’t get your meeting off of your mind, and your heart still picked up its pace every time you thought about it even though it started off the wrong foot.

You kind of felt guilty with lying, even though what you said wasn’t technically a lie. Kind of. “Next time you try to go in, maybe try learning the password first, yeah? There’s a brilliant idea for you.” You murmured, not caring if your friend heard you or not.

Talk around town was filled with nothing but Sirius Black the next few days. The theories on how he got in into Hogwarts became wilder and wilder that you heard a young Hufflepuff student babble on to anyone who would listen that Sirius could turn into a flowering shrub. Sirius had laughed for ten minutes straight at that. You became busier as well- McGonagall strode in one day asking to speak to you privately.

“Dumbledore has requested your presence in his office any time you are available.”

You wiped your hands on your apron, giving your old professor a questioning look. “Um, you can tell him that I’ll be there in a few minutes then, just let me tell Madam Rosmerta-” You were about to head back inside before McGonagall cut you off.

“Actually,” She started and you stopped on your tracks and turned back to her, “I also have a request if it wouldn’t be too much for you.”

“Yes?”

She let out a sigh, “Well, I believe you are aware that Harry Potter is a Seeker in the Quidditch team?” You nodded dumbly, having no idea where this conversation was going. “Well, their first match is on Saturday and the students want to train during the evening. I have already asked Madam Hooch to oversee their sessions, but it would put me more at ease if you were there as well. For extra protection, especially since there is no sign of Black yet.”

You blinked, processing everything she just said. She was basically asking you to keep an eye on your godson- You broke out into a smile, bobbing your head immediately, “Of course!” You stopped and regained your composure when McGonagall raised a brow at you, “I mean, yes, it’s no problem at all Professor; I’ll head to the Quidditch field every time I finish here then.”

McGonagall let out one of her rare smiles and nodded at you, she then told you she would be waiting for you so you could go to the castle together. Luckily for you, Madam Rosmerta had no qualms about you leaving early today so you left without much hassle and you and McGonagall headed to Hogwarts, making small talk here and there.

When you came here with Sirius, you didn’t expect to be going in and out of the school so much; especially since you’ve been laying low for the past ten years, leaving the Ministry and all that. “I believe you know your way from here.” McGonagall told you as you entered the castle, you nodded absentmindedly so she left you in the hall.

The students stole glances at you as they passed by, some surely recognizing you from the Halloween feast. You stuffed your hands inside the pockets of your coat and made your way up the numerous staircases until you reached the familiar corridor that led to the Headmaster’s office.

You stood outside entrance covered by the large and ugly stone gargoyle. You were at a lost since McGonagall never mentioned the password to you. So how were you going to go inside now? Just before you turned on your heels to find someone who could get you in, the pathway opened as Remus came out looking rather under the weather. He stopped on his tracks when he saw you; he cleared his throat and fixed his tie. “Y/N” He tiredly greeted.

“Remus.” You answered with a nod. The both of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to talk about. You glanced behind him, at the stairway to the office, “Um, is Dumbledore available?”

Remus turned and glanced at stairs as well, then looked at you again, “Uh- yes, yes he is, we just finished our discussion and he doesn’t have an audience now so...” He trailed off.

“Okay, I guess I should head in then.” You mumbled and walked past him before turning back, “Take care of yourself okay?” You told him. He gave you a curt nod before walking away, so you went on to your business.

Sirius paced back and forth in the little house you shared. “Honestly, please sit down. You’re making me dizzy with all the pacing. It’s not good for the floorboards.” You snapped. He sat down next to you in the sofa and looked at you seriously. Despite the rather upbeat music that played from the radio in the corner, the room had a rather glum atmosphere.

“Dumbledore wants you to-”

“To patrol Hogsmeade and Hogwarts a couple of times in a week. Report to him if I find anything suspicious, or I see any clues where you might be.” You finished.

Sirius furrowed his brows, “But why? You’re not an Auror anymore, you don’t have to do shit for them.” He snarled. Because what ever did Dumbledore did for any of them when the Potters died? He gave Harry to those god-awful Muggles and hadn’t even tried to give a fair trial to Sirius.

You looked up to your Headmaster, you always had, but sometimes... sometimes his actions frustrated the hell out of you. Sirius took your hands in his when he noticed your visibly upset face. “I shouldn’t have brought you here with me. I think they’re trying to get you back into their fold.”

“Sirius, you must be forgetting something,” You gave him a bitter smile, “They’re not the enemy here.” Sirius sighed and dropped his head to your joined hands. You freed one and ran it through his black locks. “Besides, this just means I get to see Harry more often, and maybe help you if the situation requires it.” You smiled at the thought.

“You’ll get to see Moony-” he mentioned, “You’re bloody miserable every time you see him again, I know you, when you came back after the feast and today, after that meeting with Dumbledore, you’ve been lost in thought. You still love him, don’t you?” He sat straight again and looked at you straight in the eye. “I don’t want to see you die a little inside every single time.”

Your smile faltered; you hadn’t realized that Sirius noticed. You thought you were being discreet about it. “I...” You inhaled sharply, “I never stopped.” You admitted for the first time, letting out a defeated breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep your emotions in check whenever Remus was the topic of your conversation. Sirius placed a warm hand on your cheek and wiped a stray tear away.

“Moony’s a total git for letting you go.” He commented, you let out a dry laugh at that and he grinned. “C’mere” He pulled you up from the couch and held your hands, a playful glint in his eyes as he swayed to a different, but still upbeat song from the radio. He looked rather idiotic as he moved left to right in what could be called an impromptu dance. You laughed as he pulled you close and twirled you around at random moments, it was as if your worries and your hurt was being washed away and the once gloomy house was filled with laughter for the first time since you’ve been there. Remus, Peter, Dumbledore and the Dementors were faraway thoughts at that very moment because all you could focus on was your best friend who was swaying with you clumsily to a Muggle song the both of you didn’t even know the title of.

As the song neared its end, your head leaned on his neck as he held you close, slowly turning with your hands still clasped together, relishing in the company and comfort the two of you gave to each other, but reality was slowly seeping back in by then and you stopped when the song ended. You pulled away from him; the two of you shared a look as static played in the background before you retreated to your bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you.

___________________

Permanent Taglist:

@coffeeismylife28 , @oreofrappiewithblueberry

#sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #marauders x reader #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Harry Potter #the prisioner of azkaban #hogwarts #peter pettigrew #the marauders

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yanankim · 2 years

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Idk you well and I’m usually all for people speaking about their controversial opinions but also since I don’t know you well I’m just hoping it isn’t pure hatred and vitriol for a person or something (bcs I have zero idea what the censored thing is. Maybe Dawn related?? I feel like he’s the thing most people have acidic ideas over lol, it fits your censor and he also has a small fanbase)

uhm okay it is *kinda* dawn related but not really. its under the read more bc yeah

naughty boy's entire era leaves just a really bad taste in my mouth. dont get me wrong, i love the entire mini and i know the boys put so much effort into it, but it was their first comeback without all of the members. i mean, during half of gorilla era shinwon had to sit out and critical beauty yanan couldnt be in live stages, but they at least got to participate in the songs. naughty boy was the first time they were.. incomplete? i suppose? and it was just a time filled with so much uncertainty. we werent even sure if yanan was gonna come back, especially after it was confirmed that dawn got kicked. for the longest time, i couldnt even listen to any of the songe on the album bc it just felt so empty without either of their voices. hell, you could *hear* where dawns voice was supposed to go in naughty boy.

its an era that, even though im able to listen to the songs now and not feel this emptiness, i still cant fully enjoy it. what makes it worse for me is that they were riding off of the coattails of shine's success. they had the entire kpop community's eyes on them as they had to go through losing a member and criticism over making a shine copycat and so much uncertainty. i still remember kino crying at a fanmeet and reporters asking them questions about dawn leaving and them having to be civil about everything.

and as much as i love naughty boy as a song now, its so obvious they WERE trying to capitalize on shine's success. thats not a criticism! shine is a good song and so is naughty boy and it introduced ptg's now well-known fun concepts! but hui has also talked about how ever since shine, he hasnt been able to make songs with such a carefree attitude. he constantly has to make songs with the success of shine looming over him and how cube is trying to push him into making a hit like it again.

the reason why im scared to say all of this is that when naughty boy was released, a LOT of unis were just.. awful. it was more of a problem on twt, but i saw my fair share of tumblr unis being disgusting too. they all said that it was okay to take ur time and heal from dawn leaving however long it took, but as soon as someone was open and vocal about their hurt, they would be called a fake uni! if you didnt support hyundawn, you were a fake uni; if you didnt support dawn's solo debut, you were a fake uni; if you posted hui crying during bomnari; if you are ot10; if you are ot9— all of it somehow signaled that you werent an ACTUAL ptg stan or that you were a bad person. ive talked about this before, but there are a handful of big-name unis (specifically on twt i dont think any of them are active on here anymore) that tote a Specific Way Of Being A Universe and if you Werent That, then you were somehow doing it wrong. they were are are super protective of the boys, and i get it, theyve been through shit and i want to protect them to, but it was getting to the point of sending hate to other unis for simply being a uni in a different way.

im ot10. i was pretty vocal about it in the past. in my eyes, pentagon will always be 10. they talked about how pentagon wouldnt be pentagon if it werent the 10 of them, dawn got a bigass 10 tattoo on his hip, they fought tooth and nail to debut as 10. to me, that signifies that, if it werent for cube, they would still be 10.

ive stopped being vocal about it because there are a few ot9 stans that tell ot10 stans to get over it. it happened years ago. theyre 9 now, so theres no point on being ot10.

ptg are my ults. they still are. they debuted the same month i tried to kill myself, and while recovering, their debut album was the only thing i could listen to. it comforted me in a way i cant explain now. i think thats why dawn leaving had such an impact on me, and why i had to take a break from everything for months after he left.

theres so much in-fighting that ive seen within the universe community. its hostile and bitter and i hate it. its died down since shalala, but i still see it. it makes me sick to my stomach.

#i hope this makes sense its mostly word vomit #anyways im gonna go to sleep now lol #anonymous #answered #suicide ment #yeah this got away from me whoops lol

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andyet-here-we-are · 4 years

Text

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway, I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x)

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night, is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—” Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though. Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!” She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin” is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue? Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying, Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues” mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #jaskier x geralt #dandelion #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher fanfiction #nurse geralt au #I Would Get Into Millions Of Accidents Just To See You #my writing

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neo-shitty · 3 years

Note

toffee!

yeah same, i follow some fic accs that occaisionally post smut and its like mmmmm is the fluff writing enough to balance the posts that gives me finger burn trying to scroll past it? but yeah thats probably the way to go

ah i wasnt there for the teaser but i can imagine that was tantalising. lmaoo yes but to be fair i do have a writing acc called channiesbigheart so... balancing it out? but i absolutely am whipped beyond belief. it was a TRAVESTY how COULD they have. yeah the b sides gave him more lines but they werent the ones that were performed over and over at stages. yessss the line distribution in this album is impeccable, im pretty sure the thunderous stuff was some of their best distribution

hehe i can understand that, sometimes putting someone in a situation so horrible it would be considered a violation of human rights is theraputic, ya know? mmmm the differences are a bit nuts, it was 14 degrees today and in less than a week its going to be 32 or smth. BROOO that would be legendary, i bet theyd treat their artists rlly well and have great music as well ahhh but its a lot of work adn commitment. yES that is a mood if ever i heard one.

its the same in australia as well, sadly, you have people who hold up harry styles and lil nas x for breaking gender roles and wearing make up adn steryotypical womens clothing (and keep in mind i have infinite respect for both of them theyre honestly doing so much for the de-dehumanising of gay people and those who wear whatever they want), and calling the kpop boys gay and other things for doing the same thing, when theyve been doing it for years and gotten no recognition smh its so tragic. yes, anyway YES ONLY 6 MONTHS I AM FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES A BBY STAN altho i considered myself a fully fledged stay like 2 days after i got into them cos i just spent all day researching and fixating. YES someone said it. it feels like theyre losing a huge chunk of why a lot of people liked their music in teh first place, which was that whole dna, dope, fire mood. and even doing bright songs is fine, liek they should do what they want but i feel liek the western music industry is so fucking toxic that they feel pressured into making these decisions. dont get me wrong, theyre good decisions from a business perspective, theyre getting record breaking sales but still. mmm yeah honestly yg just needs to get its shit together or get out

oooh! not into nct but i see a lot of him, he seems rlly talented. ahh yes another channie ult lmaoo i feel that, my list is growing in leaps and bounds as well. mmm yeah i think i will, im just going to try to save enough money :) mingi appealed to me mostly for the voice (like felix smh what is it with me and deep voiced bois) but also his soft visuals and the whole cutesy thing he has going on i rlly liked. yes i did get into them while he was on hiatus, but im still mostly a casual stan, ill listen to the album when it comes out but i dont think ill obsessively look over everything to do with it, like skz. HAH WE'RE MORE SIMILAR THAN I THOUGHT. lmaooo the thot line describes them perfectly, why are they all so damn attractive. especially seonghwa, like that man looks like a character from a book, cardan greenbriar vibes anyone? mmhmm! his vocals are absolutely insane. ty! yeah im excited altho idk how theyre every going to beat border:carnival, that shit was impeccable. ahh no stress, enjoy teh groups you stan atm!

ahh thank you so much, ill keep that in mind. hehe thats good! hopefully its soon :( ah ty, it means a lot. ill think abt that and hopefully talk abt it a little more :)

ah, no it was inside our gymnasium but to get to the other side of the stage you had to exit the building, go around the back and then enter through the other stage door. ah tysm! im glad too. mmm same, they baffle me. ;n; noo so sad :( ahh, thats um not smth i put on here, but im in high school so make of that what you will :)

thank you! ive done a majority of them, i just have maths, an english presentation and an economic assignment due now so im pretty much home free. yeah i feel like hes the epitome of here for you while being inescapably far away. haha she sounds like one of my friends. lmaooo why is that me. hmmm i feel like youve answered a lot of them in that answer so maybe just ateez, enha, txt and bp? if you stan them? :)

ahhh no problem at all, proud of you for managing to overcome the procrastination! progress! mmm thats good! ahh pls do let me know if you ever decide that, i cant promise i wont cry but do what you gotta do :)

<3 w.a. 🐺

hi! sorry for the late reply, i didn't know how to construct sentences yesterday e.e

yeah sometimes it's the perfect balance! i personally don't like fics that focus mainly on the filth? the plot has to carry the whole fic somehow and the smut is just something to add to the mix. also, i'll follow you on your writing blog! i keep forgetting to do so, damn it.

"sometimes putting someone in a situation so horrible it would be considered a violation of human rights is theraputic, ya know?" putting it this way just silenced me but yes. angst just feels more realistic. it isn't always happy endings irl so i tend to do it a lot.

falling into skz is so easy! it felt like that for me too. stanning them felt like getting sucked into a blackhole. also yes i agree. kpop is nothing but an industry after all and it runs on money so i get why they do what they do as well.

i suggest we not talk about haechan because i will literally not shut up but yes my boy is an ace :( chan is also sooooo easy to love. and the chan's rooms just solidified his place as ult. having something to look forward to every week at a time when my mental health was just plummeting into the depths of tartarus just helped me be stable. oh yeah, mingi's deep voice is indeed sexc. and he has some wack ass duality as well! and i think seonghwa was one of the people i nearly considered as bias just because of his visuals because wow that's one beautiful face. and true, idk how enha's going to beat border:carnival. i don't like all the tracks simply bc of taste preferenceds but i like more than one so i consider that a lot already.

bro that gym should've had some sort of a covered walk :// also i miss being in high school sO DAMN MUCH. but i still feel like i am because time stopped when quarantine started and i was still in senior year at the time.

my ateez bias is wooyoung! it wasn't that much of a shocker to my kpop stan irls because i was a jimin stan for the longest time. enhypen is jake and they kept pointing out that he looked like seungmin sometimes so it's like chan's aussie-ness with a tinge of seungmin (the other guy in my skz bias line, in case i haven't mentioned it). txt is huening kai! i find it hard to believe that he's my age because he looks a lot younger? o.O and he always looks good damn :(( sigh for blackpink it's lisa! i tend to bias the maknaes of yg groups, it's a pattern i've noticed but don't intentionally do!

DON'T WASTE YOUR TEARS OMFG. you can always reach me elsewhere if i like disappear off this blog.

#toff.asks #wild anon 🐺

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wienerbarnes · 4 years

Text

Breathe Deeper

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 2,324

Prompt: “Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” (from a random prompt generator)

Warnings: murder, violence, staging a suicide, ~feelings~

A/N: cafe bustelo does wonders for you at 1 am anyway ive been trying to finish this for like two months. have a couple more ideas for these two but feel free to send me any ideas or requests and ill do em if the inspo strikes! also title is purely the song im listening to as i type this out and has no correlation to the story LOL but hey if yall like tame impala enjoy

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

A single pop is heard as a bullet flies out of your gun into the head of the old man who opened the door.

“Christ! No build up?! No tension?! No confirmation that it’s even him?!” Bucky yells as he wiggles his ear to rid the ringing from it.

You brush past Bucky and slide the gun back into the holster strapped to your thigh. You step over behind whatever his name was, Bucky’s having trouble remembering after that blow to his eardrum, and hook your hands under his arms in order to drag him back into the empty house.

“Why is it always murder and mayhem with you? Don’t you ever just do normal person things? Eat a sandwich? Brush your teeth? Do you even brush your teeth?” Bucky questions you as he closes the door behind him, stepping in between splatters of blood.

“Nope, gotta leave leftovers for the bugs that live in my mouth.”

“That’s gross.”

“Shut up, help me lug this guy to the bedroom.”

The two of you are in a small town in Northern Oklahoma on the property of one of your ex-Hydra handlers. After a few days of researching, the two of you were able to figure out where he moved to and what he changed his name to after retiring from his prior lifestyle.

“I knew it was him from the second I saw him. You never forget.” You explain to him, both of you positioning his body in the corner of the room.

“You go clean up the entryway, I’ll finish staging over here.” Bucky offers it to you. He takes out his own gun from his own waistband and fires a single shot through the same hole you put in between the guy’s eyes. The splatter that explodes on the walls behind him are perfect, artistic almost. Bucky then starts looking around the room; in the closet, under the bed, until he reaches the night stand where a pretty little pistol lays. Not the same gun as his, but he has a feeling the police system in such a small and unpopulated town won’t bother to investigate this death as a murder as opposed to the obvious suicide that took place.

Bucky notices the small skull and octopus stamped into the side of the gun as he places it in his hands. He rolls his eyes before making his way back over to the entryway where you’re sat on the ground, scrubbing away with a rag in your hands and a bottle of bleach next to you.

Bucky walks over and takes a seat on the loveseat positioned a few feet away from where you are.

“So, where we heading after this?” Bucky asks you, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the arm of the seat.

“Back to New York? You probably gonna be busy working on that murder case.” You glance at him confused before going back to scrubbing.

Bucky pauses before speaking again, “How do you know about that?”

“I… keep up with my fair share of news.”

“You don’t pay for newspapers nor do you have a TV or a phone; you don’t have news. Besides, we haven’t released any information to the public about anything before we get more leads. So, how do you know about that?” Bucky stares at you, eyebrows pinched a bit in the middle as he awaits your answer.

“Do you wanna stop and get some pie on the way back?”

“No. Did you see something about the murders?” Bucky ignores your attempt at changing the subject.

“You just said you haven’t released anything-”

“I don’t mean on the news, I mean in that empty head of yours.” He teases.

You sigh, “I hate when you ask me about my… head.”

“Well, you could be helping here! You can try and be good!”

“I’m sitting on the floor scrubbing an old guy’s blood out of the wood of his own house after I’ve just blown his brains out.”

“Yeah, a bad old guy!”

You get off the last of the specks of blood before standing up and screwing the cap back onto the bottle of bleach. “I didn’t even see anything about the killer, anyway.”

“So, what did you see?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Fetch me a bone here, doll.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that, dog.”

He grabs the bleach and rag from your fingers to free up your hands from carrying anything. Tingles travel up the tips of your fingers and flow up through your wrist into your chest. You glance up and make eye contact with Bucky and the dramatic puppy eyes and pouty lips he’s throwing your way.

You stare for a few more seconds before looking away, “Check that huge pond in Central Park tomorrow. His next victim will be floating there.” You satisfy him before turning and making your way back outside and to the car the two of you took on your little road trip.

While walking back to the parked car, Bucky quickly rushes in front of you and grasps the handle before you can reach it, allowing you to get in the car while he holds it open for you. He throws you an innocent looking smile, a smile coming from a person who surely didn’t just stage a suicide. You bite back your own smile before taking a seat and letting Bucky close the door behind you.

…

When you open your eyes after your nap, it's dark outside the moving car. You slowly lift your head up off the car window and glance over at Bucky, who you now realize is on the phone with someone.

“I told you, it was a weird anonymous number, Sam. I don’t know where it came from.” Bucky speaks softly on the phone before turning his head to look at you in your sleepy state.

“All they said was to check the pond in Central Park tomorrow. I know it’s sketchy, but we don’t have any other leads anyway, we might as well try it.”

“We sounds like a lot of people, ain’t you say that to me one time? Not all of us are on vacation, you know.” You hear another deep voice through the tiny speaker of the phone against Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, man.”

Bucky wraps up his conversation as you process what you’ve heard. Bucky has lied, again, to the government, to Captain America, in order to protect you and your existence.

“How’d you sleep?” He asks before your thoughts can get too far from you.

“Fine. We’re already heading back to New York?”

“We’re stopping at a motel for the night, but after tomorrow’s drive, we’ll get there by sundown.”

You sit up proper and stretch your legs as far out in front of you as you can, the bones crunching and popping in relief at the new position. Bucky cringes next to you. He glances at you and watches you pick at the crust gathered at the corners of your eyes, a yawn escaping you along with the last of your grogginess.

Bucky doesn’t know how he’d fully express it to you, but he’s so happy to see the person you’re growing into. Everyday a little bit more of your personality, your mannerisms, your weirdness, your humor, your ideas; everything about the real you, shows more and more. He sees this beautiful woman who, maybe a year and some ago, was walking the line of death and now sits beside him with neon green nail polish and mismatched socks and cute flower earrings adorning the curve of your ear. He stares at the tattoo on your neck, that angry red face with large eyebrows and wonders whether or not that was your idea or not. He wonders if you have any other tattoos hidden among the space of your skin, he doesn’t remember seeing any along your sides or stomach that nightmare of a night in his apartment-

“You’re swervin’.”

Bucky clears his throat and snaps his head forward, fixing the car to drive straight on the road. Soon, he sees the promising sign, “Motel in 10 Miles,” and the two of you park in the small lot of the light orange building.

The inside smells of old people, an aged scent that isn’t necessarily bad, but makes you scrunch your nose nonetheless. No bugs in clear sight and the roof is still intact, so it should be suitable for a night of rest.

“We only have rooms available on the first floor for tonight, I’m assuming you’ll want one bed?”

Bucky's throat goes dry for a second, “Yes, that’s fine.” He doesn’t want to consult you as you look far off out the front window of the lobby, back turned to the young woman at the front desk. No matter how small a town in whatever state there is at this point in their journey, there is no risking anyone recognizing you, even if your search mission has been deemed unsolved.

A plastic card is slid into Bucky’s right hand and he begins making his way back outside and down the walkway towards their room for the night. You follow him silently.

“I call showering first, I think there’s small clumps of blood still stuck in my hair.” You tell him, flinging your backpack onto the bed, and pulling out a large sweatshirt and panties and taking them into the bathroom with you.

While the water begins to run, Bucky undoes the blankets, looks thoroughly through the pillows and in between the sheets in search of bed bugs. Next, inspecting the lamps, outlets, and anything else that could possibly hide a camera, microphone, or any other device. He even contemplates tearing apart the carpet under his feet, but decides against the extra work. He places your bag along with his own backpack on the small table in the corner of the room and fixes the bed to not look like he tore it apart recklessly. I wonder what side she prefers-

The bathroom door opens and a cloud of steam flows out, you soon emerge with a towel wrapped around your head, large sweatshirt hanging off your frame and bare feet digging into the soft carpet beneath you. You fling the towel off of your head using momentum from throwing your head and neck forward, the towel landing on the floor in front of you and your wet hair sending a light spray Bucky feels on his warm face.

By the time Bucky finishes with his shower, the room resembles a sauna and his metal arm has gone hot. A long sleeved shirt and cotton shorts are slipped onto his body along with a pair of thick socks to keep him warm at all times. He steps out of the bathroom, using his towel to rub through his hair, and he spots you using the small mirror on the wall.

Your legs are on display and your underwear is in sight. Bright pink with WEDNESDAY printed on the behind in bubble letters, it’s Friday, the bottoms of your butt cheeks hanging out the bottom of the fabric. The cotton hugs your body and Bucky can’t help but blush at the sight. His mother would smack him over the head if she were here right now.

Your shirt is lifted, one of your hands holding it high on your chest where Bucky can see a slip of under your breast peeking, the curve intriguing him. Your other hand is occupied rubbing a colorless liquid along your side, Bucky focuses his attention and realizes your rubbing along the scar he left you from your stitches. The bottle on the table has a label that read Vitamin E Natural Oil.

Your fingers seem unbelievably soft and gentle as he watches them glide along your side, massaging the shiny oil into your smooth skin. You drop your sweatshirt and gather a bit more oil on your hands before rubbing it into your hips where Bucky can see the faintest stretch marks.

“Sorry ‘bout the scar. O-on your side, I mean.” Bucky stutters out, convincing himself that his body is warm from the shower he took.

“It probably saved my life, so I can’t say I’m sorry about it.” You respond without turning around, as though you knew he was there watching you lather yourself in oil like the beginning of a softcore porn but didn’t mind him enjoying the show.

“What’s that stuff for, anyways?” Bucky asks as he gathers his old clothes back into his bag, folding each piece before placing the packed bag next to yours on the table. Your bag that clearly does not have folded clothes, only crinkled ones. Bucky empties your bag and folds your clothes for you before neatly packing it and closing the zippers.

“Helps fade scars.”

“Yeah, but why? Scars are cool.”

“I suppose. I’d still like to lighten them a bit. So they look better, prettier.”

“You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in the last few decades.”

“You don’t even remember most of the last few decades,” You try to joke.

“I mean it. It’s a compliment. It’s okay to accept and enjoy compliments, doll.” Bucky looks at you, forcing you to meet his eyes. You see in your peripheries as he puts the cap on the bottle of oil and places it next to your bag. A small smile adorns his face as he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel a knot form in your throat.

It’s been a long while since you’ve received any kind of love, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or self. It’s an overwhelming feeling when someone who you aren’t actually the closest with gives you such a deep and personal compliment.

Aren’t the closest with- this is your only friend he the only person you even know. The point is, being the most beautiful woman of the century is much different than having pretty hair or a good sense of humor.

You look away from him before the small bit of wetness can gather in your waterline.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” Bucky whispers softly to you, as to not break the safe atmosphere created by his sweet comment.

You clear your throat that now feels thick with tar, “The right.”

“Good. I prefer the left.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #~gasp~ and there was only one bed #series #oneshot

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unibrowzz · 3 years

Text

Mod (finally) reviews all 67 winners of the Eurovision Song Contest Part IV: The 1980s

Ah yes, the 80s. One of my favourite decades for music overall, and one of the only decades in Eurovision where I wouldn’t immediately jump at the chance to change most of the songs that won, the other decade being the 2000s.

But at least with the 80s there was more quality songs per year, whereas the 2000s was mostly drivel.

I also count the 80s as being somewhat of a turning point in the contest’s history, and by that I mean it always seemed to me like it was the decade where the UK really began to stop caring. Most people know the song that won in 1985, but nobody knows what won in 1986. Everyone knows Johnny Logan won twice, but couldn’t name his second song. Everyone knows Celine Dion competed, but can’t remember if she won or what she sang.

That and countries also started experimenting with more modern sounds and outfits towards the end. The early 80s is just an extension of the 70s I swear.

But that’s enough of all that, how do I find the winning songs?

1980- What’s Another Year?

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song that makes every 50something woman in the UK and Ireland all doey-eyed and rosy cheeked as they remember back to when they were a teenager watching this on TV and drooling at the lovely looking sad Irishman singing his sorrows into the microphone. Or that’s my experience with this song anyway. Another experience is that most vintage fans I know tend to dislike this song on the grounds of it beating out [insert song here] Everyone has their favourite from 1980 since it was honestly a pretty strong year, but even though this song isn’t my first place for that year I can still clearly see why it won. See, 1980 had a lot of pop songs, so a slow, sad song like this one was bound to stand out, whether it was popular or not. Luckily for this one, it turned out to be a popular choice. Other songs wouldn’t be so lucky… Back on track though. Like I said, this is a very sad and melancholy song with sad and melancholy lyrics, which not only made it stand out in its year, but also made it stand out amongst other Eurovision songs of its time. It’s strange to think, but at this point in the contest’s history there hadn’t been a winner with lyrics so solemn and personal. See, in modern Eurovision, every other song is the artist baring their soul about their horrible ex-boyfriend, or their depression, or past abuse, or whatever, so knowing there was a period where songs like that were so rare is just… surreal to me.

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Greece tbh, I don’t mind this one

If no, what is? Greece- Anna Vissi- “Autostop”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 23rd

1981: Making Your Mind Up

Country: United Kingdom

Artist: Bucks Fizz

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the UK winner that nobody really likes, but the BBC still forces at us anyway because they’re proud they came up with a gimmick that everybody remembers. Or maybe it’s not that well remembered, but nobody would know that because we’re reminded of it every year. This song is… alright. Just alright. The first listen of this one is always the best, because after a while it just gets kind of annoying. The singing ESPECIALLY starts to grate you for a while. Even in the studio version the two girls sound unbearably shrill and whiny, and I’m not sure if that’s their fault or the songwriter’s (since if I remember correctly only one of them was a professional singer). I’m seriously convinced there’s no way for a female vocalist to pull this off without sounding terrible. Again, this one’s perfectly fine and serviceable, but that doesn’t mask the fact it’s still the worst UK winner and the worst winner of the 1980s too.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Carlos Paião- “Playback”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 58th

1982: Ein Bißchen Frieden

Country: West Germany

Artist: Nicole

Language: German (Translation: “A little peace”)

Thoughts: This song gives me a really warm, nostalgic feeling, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know this one did well internationally, so it’s possible I just heard it as a kid, but given how I grew up in the early 2000s, “Eurovision is a shitty freak show full of weirdos from the USSR who gang up on the UK and don't vote for us on purpose” era Britain, that’s highly unlikely. Anyways, this is such a warm, fuzzy kind of song. It has a lovely… round-the-campfire, singalong kind of vibe, like this is meant to be sung by a load of long haired hippies with flowers in their hair and CND symbols drawn on their cheeks. And it’s… … Also kind of bland. If you’ve been reading my personal winners so far, you’ll have noticed I definitely have a soft spot for old German entries, so it’s a shame I find the one song they actually won with to be so… generic. It’s like they got tired of being unique so decided to send the same saccharine fluff everyone else was sending, and guess what, it paid off majorly, because this song was a huge hit at the time. Something about that kind of bothers me, like, out of all the entries they sent, it’s the one that’s the most “Eurovision-y” that ended up winning. And there’s something depressing in that.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? United Kingdom- Bardo- “One Step Further”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 50th

1983: Si la vie est Cadeau

Country: Luxembourg

Artist: Corinne Hermés

Language: French (Translation: “If life were a gift”)

Thoughts: You want a tip on how to stand out amongst Eurovision fans? Say you like this song. Probably won’t make you very popular, but you’ll stand out at least. I will confess, I, too, was part of the hate-wagon for this song. Like most fans I knew, I’d complain about how boring and uninteresting it was and how it, ahem, “robbed” so many other entries, and how basic it was, et cetera, et cetera. But… honestly? It’s not even that bad. Sure I had other favourites from 1983 (the ones I could stand watching anyway, the host that year was so unimaginably terrible I gave up watching halfway through. I DARE you to watch the whole thing without wanting to neck yourself), but this song gets way more hate than it deserves. I honestly don’t think this song is half as bad as I made it out to be myself, or as bad as the fandom makes it out to be. It’s got a decent melody, some solid vocals, some appealingly 80s instrumental, like there’s a lot I like here. …Until you read the lyrics and realise they’re almost as half-assed and lazy as All Kinds of Everything’s, but I digress. Did I prefer other songs from that year? Of course. Am I going to complain about this one winning? Nah. It’s alright.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Sweden- Carola Häggkvist- “Främling”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 41st

1984- Diggiloo, Diggiley

Country: Sweden

Artist: Herreys

Language: Swedish

Thoughts: Whenever I was a younger fan I used to describe this song as being drunk-dad-at-a-wedding-music performed by three sentient Ken dolls, and I still stand by that statement. And I don’t really know how else to describe this one. It certainly has its charm, and it’s still a likeable song, but it also feels very… vapid. Like if this song were a person, they’d be a bit of a bimbo. And I mean, the song’s about how the singer’s oh-so-happy and prancing down the street in his brand new shoes, so that’s probably a fair description. Part of me wonders if that’s down to old Eurovision songs being vapid in general or if it’s down to the schlager genre itself requiring songs to be kinda neutered and happy-go-lucky, but even though I do like this song, it does come off as being a bit bland. A bit by-the-numbers and playing-it-safe. And I don’t mind songs like that, but I’d rather they didn’t win, y’know?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Italy- Alice & Franco- “Il Treni di Tozeur”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 15th

1985- La det Swinge

Country: Norway

Artist: Bobbysocks

Language: Norwegian

Thoughts: Ah yes, the song which finally hauled Norway into first place after years of being a regular last-placer. Maybe the UK should take some notes instead of blaming Brexit. Or Russia. Or Iraq. Or anything other than their own apathy, for that matter. But this is about La det Swinge and not the UK, so what are my thoughts on it? Well it’s… It’s the kind of song I imagine my mom and aunt would sing at a wedding if they ever attended one. It’s a very fun song, a little cheesy, sure, but it’s hard to not like a song that’s this upbeat and cheery. And yeah I know it’s because it’s schlager and that’s generally a really cheerful genre by default, I touched on that in the review above,

Is this my personal winner for this year? This or Israel

If no, what is? Israel- Yizhar Cohen- “Olé Olé”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 14th

1986- J’aime la Vie

Country: Belgium

Artist: Sandra Kim

Language: French

Thoughts: This song is an enigma because I’m an absolute slut for 80s pop, yet, for some reason, I find this song painfully average and uninteresting. Now, I’ll get it off my chest and say that 1986 was also a painfully average and uninteresting year, and most of the time I just felt myself remembering the singer more than the song, and even then I struggle to remember what some of the acts even were. It was just such a boring blur of a year I’m surprised the juries even managed to stay awake to pick a winner. And I GUESS you could argue that this song is so upbeat and peppy that it woke them up, but that doesn’t excuse how bloody generic it is. Like, this is the most generic 80s song you can imagine, and not in a good way. It feels more like stock music than an actual publicly released pop song. Had it not won, I doubt it would’ve stood out to me at all; it would’ve just faded into the background with all the other muted, 80s-coloured mush from this year. Basically, there’s a reason the singer’s age is the only thing noteworthy about this song.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Not really

If no, what is? Luxembourg- Sherisse Laurence- “L’amour de ma vie”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 49th

1987- Hold me Now

Country: Ireland

Artist: Johnny Logan

Language: English

Thoughts: Ah yes, the superior Johnny Logan winner. And I’m not sure why everyone forgets this one because Mother of Mercy this song is in another league entirely compared to the other schlock Ireland’s won with. Like this is their best winner, no competition. One of their best songs overall as well. One of the best entries from the 80s, one of the best winners of the 80s, one of the best winners… Yeah, I really like this song. I’ll admit to sleeping on this one for too long myself, always dismissing it as some boring Irish ballad to go with all the other boring Irish ballads they somehow managed to win with (we’ll get to that later), and always agreeing with people who said XYZ country (always Yugolslavia) should have won instead. Basically I learnt the hard way to never judge a song on its country and genre. But one day I found myself in the midst of a revisiting trip, going back to winners I didn't pay much attention to, just to see if there was anything I’d missed the first time round. And something about the lyrics in this song resonated with me a lot more than I thought they would. In a strange way, it made me feel older; like I’d grown up and was able to relate to the words in a song and appreciate it more than I could when I was younger. The line “what do you say when words are not enough?” especially hits harder than it should; as someone with autism I tend to find showing emotions difficult, even in virtual conversation where I’m not using my voice or face, because… Well, what do you say when your words aren’t enough?

Is this my personal winner for this year? Yes

If no, what is? N/A

Personal ranking (out of 67): 2nd

1988- Ne Partez pas Sans Moi

Country: Switzerland

Artist: Céline Dion

Language: French

Thoughts: Telling people Céline Dion won this thing is a new favourite hobby of mine, just to see the confused reaction. And that’s the most interesting thing about this song because it’s… fine, I guess? It’s a perfectly serviceable 80s power ballad, but there’s no bells and whistles to make me sit up and declare it any better than just “okay”. It’s basically the ballad equivalent of J’aime la Vie from 1986, in that it’s extremely 80s and also in French, but there’s nothing to make it that memorable aside from the singer herself. And even then this isn’t the song that made her famous anyway. Even her singing doesn't make this one stand out, partially because the song doesn't do anything special with it, and partially because she just blends in with all the other good singers of this era. And that’s kinda sad to think about.

Is this my personal winner for this year? Hmmm....

If no, what is? Greece- Afroditi Frida- “Clown”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 22nd

1989- Rock Me

Country: Yugoslavia

Artist: Riva

Language: Croatian

Thoughts: So this is another song it really took me a while to get into (there’s lots of those, trust me) and one that was very briefly in my top three overall favourites. It’s slid down a few slots since then, though I would still say it’s… Somewhere in the top 15. I don’t really have a lot to say about this one, if I’m honest. It’s just a good, fun, solid song which stood out in a very dull and ballad-saturated year, nothing more, nothing less. The lyrics are nice too, being about a bored musician who learns to love music again by teaching himself how to play pop songs to entertain his friends. That’s a unique subject and I can imagine it resonating with a lot of people who’ve fallen out with a hobby they used to love because they took it too seriously (providing they either speak Croatian or have looked up the lyrics, of course). I mean, it resonates with me at least. All in all, I just like this song for its message more than anything else.

Is this my personal winner for this year? No

If no, what is? Portugal- Da Vinci- “Conquistador”

Personal ranking (out of 67): 9th

#Eurovision #mod's winner reviews #posting now because the tag will be CHAOS come 7 lmao #esc winners

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vanityloves · 3 years

Note

🎫 here's a gush pass! feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers!

oh man, thank you jsjsj ive gotten a few of these but ive been too anxious to actually go off ab my f/o but, lets fucking gooooo!

can i talk ab the actual animation of the source material is that allowed?

they gave us this but we ended up with

WHICH LISTEN- I enjoy n love regardless. I just find the contrasts in phases fascinating and funny. I loved his appearance in phases 1 and 2; what a fucking iconic character design. The animation is so endearing and amazing- the thicker lines, the fluidity, the range. Like the first gif that shows the vibrations of the vehicle in his shoulders/shirt? The simplistic art style was nice and even if hes Hard On The Eyes, I'm like 🥴 ok ugly ❤.

Not like the newer mvs are any less quality content - its nice to see the use of thick and thinner lines and there's definitely a different feel to it - more child friendly or easy going? Idk how to explain it. Murdoc as a character is still very, Not Child Friendly, and Im always like :cursed emoji: when someone says that their 14 year old watches their videos like help, his dick is out in at least 3 dif vids (censored ofc but man).

They definitely lost me after the 4th phase though and many people argue that the band/music lost its meaning, which i can honestly agree with (esp when they didnt name officially name 4, 5 and 6. Im p sure ppl refer to 4 as We Are Still Humanz).

I was never an avid/active fan of keeping up with the characters and didnt really think they had any story anyways, i was like "feel good inc is sexy. melancholy hill's a banger" so honestly, finding out that these apes actually have lore was fun.

Murdoc being the given this tragic backstory made my eyes Zoom, and ofc I was like "oh youre funny looking and sad. I want you ♡." In a weird way, I take a lot of comfort that 'we both have shit parents' and 'no one really thought we'd amount to anything'. to be fair, i haven't accomplished anything yet, and even if hes a bunch of pixels who i know doesnt really exist, its kind of motivating bc he never gave up? A literal quote from him being "If there’s a dream in your heart, never let anyone tell you you’ve got no talent. Get out there, embarrass yourself, and prove to the world you’ve got no talent." With how many failures hes faced he never stopped trying to prove himself worthy of attention and fame and love, which is ambitious and kind of intimidating with how much confidnece he has.

Hes a complete bastard of a man and not even close to being a good person. He's definitely complicated but can be boiled down to "just an abusive asshole", which, hey, fair. I hate the way he treats 2D, its so toxic and terrible. Honestly, its inexcusable and he needs to apologize, grow and learn a LOT and god knows he needs therapy.

I think the most tragic thing ab his character is that he basically ended up like his father and to some extent, he acknowledges it. His bad habits and behaviors stem from abuse and neglect which doesnt excuse his actions but, "man hands on misery to man." I feel like theres a haunting part to his whole life - we don't know much about his mother and brother but from assuming things, I know they weren't innocent, clean, or soft spoken, let alone, kind. I think he has a "It runs in the family" mentality and gives into it bc there's no use in running from something so deeply engraved within him.

But as a man of contradiction, hes shown to care, despite "hating everything, including himself". To be short, his father was a failure and a man thats never worked for his own money, so he contradicts that and escapes that part of 'failure running in the family' by forming Gorillaz. I do think theres something way more ab his character in that regard. I think theres a lot that he needs to work on but he's escaped a part of that mindset, and his 'Plastic Beach'. I wonder what theyre gonna do with valley of the pagans thing.

I guess as a band, theyre not gonna show a lot of "behind the scenes" stuff like that. We wont know if he ever gets help, or apologizes, or even feels sorry - its up to us to decide which is a safe game to play on Their Behalf.

People are upset that hes actually cleaned up a bit and is shown to be nicer bc they miss having that disgusting, cruel man which again, I understand. He has always been the antagonist to the entire band. But as someone that likes to see people happier n mellow (or, boring) rather than doing shit and compensating for their depression, its nice to see that type of development (or downgrade, depending on how you see it).

This could be Their (read: jamie and damon) way of being lazy by making him 'mellow out w/ age' or whatever it is. It definitely seems to woobify his character and intentions but well, His Main Goal, Was To Blow Up. And Act Like He Dont Know Nobodaaayyy argargarg and guess what? He's already made it- he's successful, he's rich, he's famous, he's adored. Now what? Maybe this is just his way of taking it easy from here on out - who knows.

Gorillaz definitely took a turn after all the brand deals so it lost its meaning (since one of the phases had a 'fuck capitalism' message) and with that, Murdoc is no longer allowed to be the stank bitch hes was always meant to be, no more obvious sex and drugs, for the new gen 🥴 ironically a lot of songs 'today' are always complained ab being ab sex, drugs, and whatever, but they def needed to step on the breaks when Money/Companies got involved. So here we have The Wigglez 😌💕

ANYWAYS, I LOVE HIM LOTS, HAVING MANY THOUGHTS

#please dont ask why i have these saved 🥴#ask reply #oh this ones long haha sorry #gorillaz rambles #gushing #modi!!!#thank you for this i needed to say sumn semi coherent

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blorbosexterminator · 3 years

Note

AND I am back. Once again on this lovely day to give my review for the EPISODE 24 so, here we go :

Agustin is squinting his eyes at him, as Sergio keeps muttering that Agustin has in fact done what he just mentioned he did and which both of them have known for years.

Federico is 99% dead?! Damn, what is Sergio's gonna do?! Make it 100% ? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

(I got a feeling that Federico is the kidnapper or atleast a very important lead to them)

Btw, WHO IS FEDERICO?! Tatiana's alive husband?!

(Look at me, hoping like a moron she aint dead

My dog : Yep, total moron 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Me :

Me : NOBODY ASKED FOR YOUR BITCH-ASS OPINION, YOU DUMB-FUCK DONKEY!!!! 😡😡😡)

Martin, my darling, my sweetheart, my poor angel. Nada, some help? Atleast gimme some tips, bruh, come on, you cant desert me like that. Not when I need to help someone 🙁🙁🙁

since, drunk, the last idea he got was that Laura turned out to be completely insane and kidnapped Andrés to marry him

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Martin, honey, stop drinking. This getting out of hand 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. But then again, Andres is so hot poor thing keeps on doubting.

As Roci said in one of the tags, his wives deserve the highest civilian award for putting up with him.

(Although, I just had a frisky thought. What if Sergio wanted Andres away from Martin, not because he cared bout his hermano but......😳😳😳😳😳 *whispers loudly* he wanted Andres all for himself? In *frantically looks around* INCEST WAY?!)

(Calm down, my deranged mind, you went too far 🤣🤣🤣)

Who knows, it could be the professor he punched in the middle of an exam once. Martín doesn’t think he has forgiven him.

Mood, bruh, such a mood 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 NO, OMG 😆😆😆 I didnt do it, but I do kinda have a beef with my Organic prof. I'll go off tangent again, so tell me if you wanna know the story.

He sent Silene in disguise to collect the cctv from the nearby shops and streets. His own cctv has been disabled since the IT bitch ruined it, Martín will kill him when he gets them back.

I think if and only IF Silene finds something good, her % of redemption will increase.

(Raquel s2e7 deja vu, I see what you did there 😏)

And Martin about to go John Wick on anyone & everyone. I tell ya Keanu Reeves will be crying when he sees Martin go nuts. I am willing to bet he'll pull a gun on the poor milkman, who just wanna do his job 😆😆😆

So he calls Bogota, with a little (not that little) handwritten list in his hand with the names of people he thinks he might have ruined their life in the past.

Martin : Okay, I'll just take out the list and

*the paper rolls out the door, travels around the world for 5 times and comes back while going over top of Everest and bottom of Marina Trench*

No, it’s because when he hated Martín, he had always hated him openly. If he wanted to hurt him, then he’d just try to stab him in the middle of the living room.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

“Bogota, did Tatiana have any family?”

“No, who of us did, Martín?”

“You literally have 7 children and 7 ex-wives.”

COMEDY GOLD, NADA 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

“Those kids are ungrateful bastards, if I fall dead tomorrow they would just run to see what they’ve inherited.”

Aka THE PLOT of 70% Indian Telenovas 🤣🤣🤣. Also this line alone has so much soap opera vibes 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

He has no choice but to go to fucking Sergio Marquina. And if it’s his wife, then even better. Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer.

For fuck sake, Martín, Ive been telling you from last 2 ep

Stop. Blaming. Raquel.

Also, 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 damn, these 2 assholes cant keep away from each other. Nada, are we sure these 2 married the right people? As much I am a Berlermo ship stan, this here is just smth else 😆😆😆

Uh-oh 🙁 this asshole son of a bitch just poked the mama bear. And if ANDRES of all people narrows his eyes at you, You are, quoting Martin from last ep, truly, utterly, entirely, thoroughly and wholly fucked.

“Do you know him?”

“Oh yes, a childhood friend, I stole his pencil once and he never forgave me. Have you heard this Paula? Don’t steal your friends’ pencils, they will never get over the betrayal. You could steal the teacher’s ones though.”

“Why did you steal his pencil?” Paula asked seriously, with a delirious tone, and too tired to even move her head upwards. Raquel is gonna kill every single person involved for doing this to her daughter.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Sassy Andres = Best Andres. Words that should be written with GOLD. Wisdom passed onto generations

Poor Paula 🤣🤣🤣 I just imagine this in some other situation :

Andres : *saying smth smth*

Paula : *taking notes & asking questions*

Raquel after seeing her daughter :

Look what you made me do

🎶But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time

Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

I got a list of names, and yours is in red, underlined

I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

Ooh, look what you made me do

Look what you just made me do🎶

(Look what you made me do by Taylor Swift)

I am telling you Nada, by the time Raquel will be done with everyone, Uma Thurman will cry buckets because no one, okay?, no one can compete with A MAMA BEAR RAQUEL MURILLO.

“Poison is a woman’s choice of weapon, Anibal. Don’t be disrespectful.”

Again, words of wisdom. Only time hes not being a misogynist.

Also, Andres, my dear, are you speaking this from experience?

(Why do I think that Martin got Tatiana killed cause she poisoned him and Martin had to watch Andres fight for his life in hospital?)

“He won’t say anything, Mama. He’s the one who kidnapped grandma with Silene!”

Is anyone gonna listen to her? Or do I need to bonk Raquel myself? 🤦‍♀️

“Silence!” she screams. “I need to know everything that happened, if we’re getting out of here alive.”

FINALLY!!!! SOME COMMON SENSE!!!! WE THANK THE LORD FOR MERCY!!!

And as for me, its time for me to say goodbye and goodnight (Cause its quarter to 12 rn in my watch)

AND ILL SEE YALL TOMORROW 🤗 BYE!!! 🙋‍♀️

I'm back as well! And we've finally caught up with each other.

Valid reaction. Sergio is also slowly going insane. Love that for him.

He's hoping he could. We all know this family has beef with that last one percentage.

(we'll see👀👀👀)

Hope is all we got at this point afabgs.

Now, now, don't speak to him like that. He has valid criticism.

I'd help him if I could, but alas (lmfao no, I do love them suffering)

Same recommendation. But he just, poor boy, could nothing to think of. So might as well be Laura. (also fair, who knows, maybe Andrés gets constantly kidnapped and forced into marriage)

Definitely, she's 100%. I really don't know how they do it.

Avsnsjsvjshsjs all theories are valid. Maybe Sergio does want Martín or Andrés, who knows what goes in the head of that fucker.

Seems like an interesting story! I never got along with my chemistry teachers. (Got one once to tell me that he's still not kicking me out of class only because he feels bad for my parents that they have to deal with me and they'll be the ones who will have to deal with the mess lmfao.)

Yes, have some faith in her!

100% accurate. Martín is this close from just shooting random people in the supermarket because they also could be the ones who kidnapped Andrés.

HAHAHA YES. This is exactly how the scene went.

We stan honesty in this house.

So happy you found it funny!!

I can confirm! Like 70% of all Egyptian drama as well.

I don't think he's hearing you well. But afnajscsgsh SAME. Okay look, now I really understand show runners with super homoerotic ships that they refuse to make canon. You try and make two male characters hate each other so much for plot then it slips and gets homoerotic.

Totally agree. This guy isn't making enemies with the right people (they are all dumb, but also none of them have anything that even resembles a moral compass)

Totally agree. This guy is honestly super amusing to watch and it's mainly because he's incapable of taking any situation in life seriously.

This family is really iconic. (love the song agsnsg) but also like Raquel would basically tell her after writing done his notes just put the title on top: things to never, ever, do.

I believe you! They really fucked with the wrong dumb family.

I mean, he's still a misogynist. Maybe some of us really like dagger, has he considered that?

That's as valid theory as any right there.

Hopefully Raquel will finally start listening to the child!

Raquel is the only one with a semblance of common sense.

Hope you had a good sleep! I'll see you tomorrow!

#thanks again kal!!#lovely review as always #Ramadan Telenovela #A Spanish Tale

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vamp-geekz · 3 years

Text

Benny x Ethan Idol AU

it was sometime in the afternoon I was in a hotel one of the 5 star ones that have a pool on the balcony. i was chilling out just kind of laying on the ground next to the pool listening to a podcast a old paranormal case some were in Mexico. my love for the paranormal never went away even after my song blew up back when I was 13. the day i left my grandma back in New York to travel with my agent was the day i left my true self. and now I'm some kind of teenage heart-throb. Benny the biggest music artist since Harry Styles.

“Boss?” i looked over to see Erica holding a clip bored and some papers. “How many times must i say this. Call me Benny or Ben.” she looked flustered “Ah yes sorry si- Benny.” she looked like she was fumbling with her phone “what’s up? is it another Fan meet and greet?” she scrolled on her phone for a second before answering:

“something like that.. See a old friend of mine from another side of state reached out to me about a artist she knows. the artist goes by ‘Morgan’ and they are a realistic abstract artist. They are apparently a fan of your music and she was asking me if you had a plan for your next album cover.” i looked at Erica as if i was unsure of what to think. “well can i see this artists work???” She searched through her phone once again pulling up a painting of a boy with blond hair. the painting was huge and had a abstract feel as it was covered in bright colors almost splattered all over the canvas. “I- i love it i would love to meet this artist!”

Erica beamed “oh thank god you said yes because if you didn't i would have to have brought up the fact that there was a lot of different paranormal experiences in the town they live in.” i looked at her with a spark in my eye. “WAIT DO THEY LIVE IN WHITE CHAPLE!?!?!” Erica smiled “yes they do” i felt the smile grow on my face.

the town of White Chapple is a huge paranormal hot spot that only a few paranormal investigators dare to go. there are mentions of werewolves, undead animals, odd sicknesses, grave robbers, living dolls made of plastic, and the thing that the town is truly known for Vampires. i almost couldn't contain my excitement. “you will have to stay in the only hotel there unless your willing to stay with my friend and me.” i looked at Erica and gave her a smile “that's ok! do you have the artists number? “I can ask Sarah if she has there number.”

a few hours after I talked to Erica about the artist i got a text attached to a number. with the message attached to said “this is Morgan's number they know who you are and apparently they promised Sarah they wouldn't completely freak out.” I smiled at the text and added the number to my contacts before heading to bed.

i rolled out of the huge bed. it was way to big for just me. it actually kind of made me feel alone. i stood up rubbing my eyes as i looked at my phone. a text from “Morgan” i looked at my phone.

Morgan: So is this the real thing or is Sarah trying troll me to make me cry again?

Benny: No this is the real thing Haha.. how often dose she do that?

i replied like a hour later and i kind of felt bad but i got text back actually really fast as if They were just looking at there phone this whole time. Erica did say that they were a fan.

Morgan: Way to often.

Benny: Well yes it is really me! and i absolutely love your artwork its absolutely stunning.

Morgan: gdjkskbgjdsg THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

I don't know why this reaction made me so happy it was just adorable... i found myself really wanting to get to know this person. maybe i just haven't found very many real people in my life or maybe there was just something pulling me toward this one person.

days went by and we were talking non stop over text. they have a little sister that is a big inspiration to the different flowers present in there art work. other then my music they listen to a lot of punk rock and some softer music. they were real and i felt like i had known them for ever.

i let myself smile and walk onto stage for my last show in this city. I've done this show over 100 times at this point but this one seemed so incredibly long and when i finally got of the stage the first thing i wanted to do was call Morgan. this was our first time on a face time call infact this was my first time seeing there face. for a split second i thought of what they might look like. i didn't settle on anything as to not get my hopes up. and as soon as i walked into my hotel room i wiped out my phone and texted them.

Benny: ok i can call right now i just got out of my show.

Morgan: oh yeah ok give me a second!

i gave it a few mins and then i saw my phone ring. my heart skipped a beat as i saw the face time call show up on my phone screen i almost felt like a little kid who just got a new game for no reason at all. and when i answered the phone i was greeted with soft brown eyes and a extremely handsome smile. “its you its really you!” his voice was soft and sounded almost loving. “Yeah I'm the real thing silly”

he seemed stunned to be talking to me and Honestly there have been a lot of times that i forgot i was some kind of star myself. we talked all night and made a plan about when i come to stay. it was gonna be a bit of a vacation for me and he was gonna let me stay in his apartment with his sister so i wouldn't have to stay in the shit hotel. he told me his full name was Ethan Morgan and uses his last name as his artist name. he told me about his plans for his life and a big dream that he has always had.

we shared interests in the paranormal and he happed to know his fair share of vampire facts. we are both huge dorks at heart and it was a instant connection that we had. and the days leading up to meeting him felt like years.

when the day came that we jumped on the road Erica seemed so much happier then normal. “Thank you so much Ben! its been so long since I've seen her” Erica smiled all big at me in a dorky kind of way and i smiled back Ethan taking over my thoughts. I wasn’t even thinking about how hungry I was or how long the drive will be. After about a hour on the road we stopped at a truck stop. i of cores could not leave the car for the god forsaken fam that had been place apon my head like a crown years ago.

i feel asleep in the car and woke up to Erica shaking me awake. we had just entered the town of white chapel. it was underwhelming as Ethan said it would be. But i tell you what it was cute unlike a lot of the big city's that i had been in before.

we went to meet Ethan and Sahara at the small coffee shop that i think just happened to be the only one in the town. We sat down and i was shaking i think Erica could tell because she taped my shoulder when the small boy walked in. this was no fan meet and great, he made me way to happy.

i stood up and darted across the room to take the smaller boy into my arms. my heart pounding out of my chest when the small painter wrapped his arms around me. at that moment i felt somethin.. it was a feeling of being complete even if it was just for a second i could tell that it was warm and it felt safe... i felt safe with him in my arms.

i pulled away from the hug i truly never wanted it to end. his hand rested on my hips and my arms rested on his shoulders. Time truly did stop at that moment. I looked into his eyes and I saw my happiness. I saw the other half that I have been missing for my entire life.

And I think he saw the same thing. Because the soon soon as I pulled away from that hug I naturally started to lean in. It was not expected to me and I don’t think it was expected to him. But for a moment we shared a kiss one that truly completed me. And I don’t understand why.

💕This is an authors note because I’ve been working on this for way too long I’m posting this tonight because I’m not sure if I want to continue if you guys can let me know if you want to continuation I’m posting a book on Wattpad with all ive my Benny x Ethan story’s💕

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mauserfrau · 4 years

Text

Mama’s Rings, Part 1 - Bordertober Fic

Oh gosh. I confess, I dropped in rather unexpectedly last night. So, this is all @kingcharon ‘s doing, though I didn’t and up jumping on the awesome prompt list because too much awesome and I’d beat myself up if I didn’t finish. I’ve got kind of an erratic workload this time of year, so I’m just letting my muse drag me ‘round by the nose as time allows.

There’s a good many people making really cool stuff in these tags, so please do have a looksee and feel welcome to join in. Makeup weekends are a thing.

That said, tonight is Troy learning his way around his illness. Contains medical situations, mentions of the twin’s early childhood trauma, Typhon existing and small children having digestive issues. Tonight is 1-4, I’m expecting about 9.

In his very first clear memory, he’s crying. A dull, throbbing ache winds through his whole body. It’s worst around his middle. There’s this sharp spot on his back too. He squirms.

Mama holds him up on the potty chair. He’s terrified to be there. He doesn’t have the words for why. She sings to him, or she says hush with her voice all teary, her big hands stroking his sides or his hair.

One moment when she pauses close to his face, he grabs her thumb in his hand. He pulls her down. He picks over her scratched silver rings. He still hurts, but playing with her keeps his mind off of how much.

Leda sings again. She doesn’t hold him so tight. But she doesn’t let him take his favorite ring off of her thumb.

“That’s mine,” she whispers, hardly missing the words of the song.

~*~

Troy refuses to eat after a bad ‘spell’. Mama makes a jammy paste out of the almost too old plums to try and tempt him. Ty munches on glowbugs, the really tangy orange ones, but his head has started to hurt by the time she comes to feed him too.

When she tells him, he whimpers. “I wanted to play too! It’s not fair.”

“Just eat! You can’t throw up light!” They never say ‘magic’ about how the two of them work. ‘Spells’ are ‘magic’, but ‘spells’ are also what Troy has.

He wonders. There’s clearly something not OK in his belly. Maybe he can throw up light. Maybe it’ll come out of the old IV pinpricks in his veins. Maybe his Siren markings will bleed it like stuck Djira.

Tyreen tells him she hates him and she leaves. He thinks she’s whimpering too. The sound of Mama and Dad arguing drowns it out though.

He starts to figure throwing up light can’t be much worse than crying, listening, being there and knowing this fight is his fault.

After everybody’s gone to bed, Troy rolls over against his sister. Tyreen throws her arm around him before he’s got any chance to stop her.

There’s light. His senses fade back into being, one by one. So, there’s pain too.

He stares up at the ceiling, tasting glowbugs underneath his skin. He realizes that if he’s magic, magic must be a terrible thing. It makes people scream and cry.

He’s four. Deciding this breaks his heart so badly he can’t sleep even though he’s starving and his whole, hurting little body wants to sleep.

~*~

Mama spends time in the medical suite with him sometimes if the homestead is all set with food and fire. It’s kind of like how Dad works on the robots. Well, Mama helps with those too, Troy and his sister soon enough since they have “tiny fingers”. They both get told no a lot for carrying screws in their teeth, but especially Tyreen since she’s got two hands and no excuse.

Troy doesn’t mind being “worked on” too. The medical suite is simply part of the homestead to him. A lot of his other earlier memories start and end there. None of them scare him as bad as the really old one about the potty chair. Some are even kind of nice, like the one where he woke up next to Tyreen and Mama had posed them like fish with the very last two of the sparkly bandages.

“It’s your shoulder. There’s a little more that has to come out,” Mama tells him now, petting his head.

Troy nods. He breathes the disinfectant and the steely warmth beneath the lights.

When he wakes up a while later, the room is dark and something is very wrong. He knows very well what sutures feel like and he is covered in them. Also, he’s alone.

He calls for Mama. Something in his belly stabs with agony. He catches his breath and holds his hand over his mouth. Monitor noise fills the room.

It’s Dad who comes to get him. “There’s my little man,” he says cheerfully. “Wow, you were really down for the count. Did a number on Mama too. She’s dead to the world someplace out back.”

Troy balks, wide-eyed. He points to where he’s hurting.

“Huh? What about your business?” Dad seems ever so slightly taken aback.

No. Troy shakes his head. He ends up clumsily grappling with the bedclothes while his father laughs and laughs. Like the loop of missing skin on Troy’s stomach and the drain sticking out of the wound perfectly normal.

He can hear Tyreen whispering. “I think she had to fix his belly button like she did mine.” Then, to him— “Can I see?”

Troy sobs and pulls the sheets up. Not that Tyreen doesn’t end up seeing anyway. It’s days before he can walk himself to the toilet. Tyreen takes him. She doesn’t complain much.

~*~

Mama dies. Dad doesn’t let Troy help dig the grave. He has the robots do it even though they’re too precise and they don’t seem to realize not to laugh about it.

It’s that plentiful season after the rains on Nekrotafeyo when new mantas are born and there’s so much spawn and sprat in the lakes that Tyreen can go wading for supper, though Dad says that’s wasteful.

It seems deeply wrong for Mama to be gone at all, but especially then. When everything else is alive and she’s not anymore.

Troy picks around the homestead, looking for where Dad might have put her rings. He couldn’t have burned them. Silver doesn’t burn. But then where are they?

Once again and after dark, Troy goes out to Mama’s grave. He starts to ask her, but the night is cool and whistling. His voice seems like too much for the valley below. Besides, he does know where one of Mama’s rings went.

Troy pulls up his shirt and plays with the round scar she left underneath his belly button. He wonders if maybe she fixed his spells since he hasn’t had one since. Part of him knows it’s wishful thinking. Besides, why didn’t she tell him what she found? Why didn’t she tell him she was going to?

The same reason she didn’t give him her ring to play with. Some things were hers.

When he heads back to the homestead, Tyreen’s waiting for him in the shadows, her arm tucked against the wall so she’s awfully hard to see.

“Was she there?” she asks.

He thinks at first she’s trying to scare him, although that’s funny stuff to say if she is. “Ah, no?” he answers like it’s normal.

Next thing, she’s fists balled up and trembling in front of him. Troy puts his hand up to guard, concerned she’s going to hit him.

Then she’s gone in the moonlight and he barely sees her for the next few days.

#borderlands 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #bordertober #border-tober #Troy Calypso #Tyreen Calypso #Troy Calypso PoV #Leda Calypso #Typhon DeLeon #medical gore #i mean it's not graphic but still #like dm me if you're concerned #I do my best to tag #but I'm not great at it #unless you want me to run a metanarative in the tags #that I can do #oh and #angst

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xmalereader · 4 years

Text

Tommy Shelby X Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

@faire-semblant-dange

Request: pls pls pls can we get a tommy shelby and male reader fic?? hes like a huge comfort character for me and ive been having like some super bad depression recently. it would mean so much to have a comforting tommy fic to read or smth, but pls dont stress if you cant do it ;; i rlly look forward to hearing your response !

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, slight kissing

The weeks have been colder and winter was slowly approaching. Y/n had been spending his time taking care of Charlie while tommy was out doing some business with some other mobs or with his brothers. He usually stayed out of sight since none of Tommy’s family know that they are together. Yes, they know who he is but they don’t know that they have been dating this whole time.

After being together for almost three years and in secret, y/n has been a second father to Charlie and had been visiting more often to the point that tommy had offered him a room of his own. He knew that y/n wanted to take there relationship slow since he wasn’t used to the whole guy on guy thing quiet yet. They took there time together but as the years went by he was able to share a bed with tommy now.

Y/n knew the dangerous things that tommy did and he didn’t mind it. He couldn’t force tommy to stop doing something that he sort of liked doing. He wasn’t like that, he’s usually staying out of tommy’s way when he’s up to something dangerous.

The cold winter days are usually spent with him indoors with Charlie and and visiting the stables, he helps charlie feed the horses and make sure that they have enough water and food before tommy sent them off to the races. He would sometimes stay longer and clean up their areas so that they had would have a clean space, he cared a lot for the horses that he would do anything for them.

Charlie smiles softly as he watched y/n clean the horses pelt with a brush as he hums a song to himself. “Y/n, you sing very nicely.” Charlie blurts out from his spot that he was standing on. Y/n froze and blushed under his coat as he turns to Charlie and smiled. “Thank you Charlie but I’m not a good singer, I just like to hum to music that I like.” He answers back as he shoveled up the mud that was created inside the stables and dumps it into a bucket and wipes his sweat. Charlie only tilts his head in questioning, “But I’ve heard you sing to father once, I think he was feeling ill that day and you went into his office to cheer him up with a song.”

Y/n knows what Charlie was talking about.

That day, tommy came home all beaten up that he could even breath. Y/n remembers dragging tommy to his office and closing the door as he lied him down on the couch. He would check his wounds and place some bandages on him as he tried to fix him up but tommy kept fusing and moving around. Saying, how he didn’t have time to get fixed up but y/n could only glare and shout at him to hold still and to let him place the bandages on him.

Tommy did’t refuse after that, not when y/n had yelled at him that harshly and he knew not to mess with y/n when he’s helping.

Y/n would rub the blood off his scars and sing to tommy, he knew that it was a girly thing to do but his own mother would always sing to him when he was either upset or ill so y/n did the same thing for tommy when he would go through a hard time. He would sing a soft song in German.

Once y/n had finished with bandages he noticed how tommy had fallen asleep to the tone of his voice.

That was a month ago.

“It’s a lullaby that I like to sing.” Y/n answers to Charlie as he smiled and hears the sound of a car approaching their home. He looks up with a frown to see Tommy stumbling out of the car and slamming the door. He looked frightened and pale. y/n took this as a bad sign and hands Charlie the shovel. “Charlie think you can finish cleaning up for me? I’m going to go check up on your father.” He takes his gloves off and leaves charlie to finish up as he heads back home.

“Y/N?!”

He hears shouting from inside the house as he enters the place with a frown, he hears his yelling and shouting as one of the maids tries to calm him down. “Mr. Shelby!” The maid says out in shock as she watched him slam doors, searching for y/n.

“What’s going on?” Y/n asks as they maid gasps in shock and lets out a breath of relief. “Mr. Shelby is looking for you sir, and it doesn’t look quiet happy.” She responds as y/n frowns. “Don’t worry I can handle this, do me a favor and check up on Charlie, he’s outside in the stables and taking care of the horses.” He instructs as he watched her scurry off. Y/n turns back to face the stairway only to see Tommy at the top, panting as he grips the railing. “Tommy, what has gotten into you? The maids are frightened what happened?” He asks as he walks up the stairs to face tommy.

“They know...” he breaths out as y/n stops.

“Know what?”

“My family, my brothers, aunt Polly, they know about us.”

Y/n’s eyes widen as he stared at tommy, not because he was afraid but because he knew that this was Tommy’s biggest fear. He knew that tommy feared about his family finding out about them since he was considered the leader of the family and they looked up to him, he’s seen it with his own eyes. He’s seen the way that everyone looks at tommy; compasssion, leadership, a man with a plan.

But today tommy didn’t have a plan.

He was scared and feared of losing y/n forever, for the first time in his life he’s been happy. He was happy to come home to see y/n with a bright smile on his face and together with charlie. He always brightened his day.

“Y/n what...what do I do..?” He pants out as y/n steps up to wrap him in a hug, he could only hold tommy close as he whispered soft words in his ear. He pulls him down to the floor where he could hold him better. He gently ran his fingers through his hair and sighs. “tommy breath...” He instructs as he kissed the top if his head, “you need to calm down, don’t worry...” he continued to whisper as he allowed tommy to relax against him and hold his free hand.

“Tommy...look at me.” Y/n lifts tommy’s head up but he refused to look at his partner. “Thomas look at me.” He uses his full name this time as Thomas finally looks up come face to face with y/n. “Now you listen to me.” He begins to say.

“No matter what happens or what they say, I am always going to stick with you. It doesn’t matter if they look down to me. But reamember this, you, Thomas Shelby, will always be the man that I know. You have done so much for me tommy, you’ve given me a home, a family, happiness and love.” He continues on as tommy lets out a shuddering breath. “I will stick with you tommy because from what I know, you would do the same for me.”

Tommy could only chuckle softly as he was finally relaxing. “Remember when I was going through a hard time too? I was lonely and depressed, didn’t have the energy to even work and kept myself Locked up in my room.” He began to remind him as he leans back against the wall with tommys back against his chest. “You came to me and forced me out of bed and forced me to at least eat something...After that you remained in bed with me for the whole day and even if something important came up you would send Arthur to do the job for you. I really appreciated that, and in return I want to do the same thing.”

Y/n smiled at he looks down at Thomas to see him looking back at him. Y/n could only giggle as he leans down to kiss him on the lips. Smiling against them as he softly mumbles. “Guess its time to meet the family properly correct?” He asks as tommy smiled back. “To hell with what they say, even if they are me family. I am willing to do anything for you.” He mumbled back against his lips.

Y/n nods, I’d do the same thing for you.”

The two stayed leaning against each other for the rest of the night, talking softly and exchanging encouraging words. They even had the maid bring there food to the stairway as they ate in happiness and quietly.

(( I just noticed that it was suppposed to be the reader getting comfort from tommy and instead wrote it the other way around so I’m sorry if it’s something that you didn’t ask for! ))

#male reader #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x male reader #thomas shelby #male x male #peaky blinders x male reader #imagine

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liquor-and-intellect · 4 years

Text

PREHISTORIC PART 3

Summary: Talia is a singer inspired by the man who broke her heart. The man who left her to pursue his career in the music industry without a second thought. The man who happens to be Harry Styles and is paying her show a visit.

part one part two

“I’m really glad you came…” Harry started, holding the door open for me to enter. “I-uh… I didn’t think you were going to come.”

I walked into the small hotel room. It wasn’t as lavish as I expected someone of his esteem to have—and maybe that was the bitter part of me that was speaking.

He stood there nervously as I surveyed the room. The bed with one side messed up, the open laptop laying on top of the sheets and a small suitcase open with a few folded clothes inside. It all was extremely modest and not how I had let my mind run rampant for the last few years about how he traveled.

I let my eyes leave the open laptop to land on him. “I honestly didn’t think I was going to either… but I…” I looked down sheepishly.

He nodded, understanding. “You couldn’t sleep, could you?” There was a small smile playing on his lips, as if reminiscing the times I sat up pacing because of a song on my mind, or turning in bed because of a fight we had. Rest didn’t exist in my vocabulary.

Shaking my head, I let myself give a tentative smile back. “No, I couldn’t.”

He stared at me for a beat longer, before catching himself. Harry cleared his throat and motioned to the bed for me to sit. “Sit, please,” he suggested. “do you want water… or coffee?” He shifted his weight nervously to his other foot.

I folded a leg underneath myself as I sat. “This isn’t an interview, Harry,” I reminded him, trying to ease the tension but coming off a bit critical.

He sat himself in a chair across from me at the small dinner table, placing his hands in his lap. He said, “I’m nervous like it is though.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “nothing could ever make up for how I treated you. I should never have left you like that. I should have fought harder for us… Fuck, I should have done so much more because you fucking deserved better.”

I froze in my spot. Tears were brimming in my irises, blurring the image of the nervous man in front of me. His words pulled a weight off my chest that had been resting there every time the memory of him came to the front of my mind. For so long, I assumed he didn’t care. It was the only logical explanation to how someone could leave me without a thought.

“Did you really love me?” I asked before I could stop myself.

His brow furrowed in such a quizzical way, as if the question was so absurd. “Of course,” he murmured. “how could I not have? I think after we dated for so long, I just assumed you would always be there. No matter how shitty I treated you.” He looked down and pursed his lips at the memory of it. “It wasn’t fair of me to do that. I was just so young and immature.”

I sniffled, leaning my hands behind me to rest my weight on them. As I did, my arm hit the open laptop, causing the screen to light up and a song to pick up in the middle of pop chorus.

“Shit-“ Harry began, standing up as a female voice began playing through the speaker.

“I swear, I will wake up next to you,” it sang and I froze. The melody was beautiful and her voice was… haunting.

Harry fumbled, trying to reach over me to turn off the laptop but he couldn’t get to it before the song continued in its hypnotic way.

Right when he was about to press pause, I heard the cracked pleading of the singer say my name.

“Talia, I hope you’re happy any way

But four drinks I’m wasted.”

I sat up straight, my head snapping to where Harry was frozen leaning over the bed, hand hovering mid-air about to pause the song. “No one will know I wrote it, I swear,” he whispered.

I put my hand on top of his, lowering it away from the computer. The contact seemed to startle him a bit as both of our skins lit on fire. “Please let me hear it,” I said lowly. “start it over.”

And he did.

I don’t know if it was because it said all the things he didn’t know how to voice or because he knew arguing with me over this wouldn’t be worth it, but he started the song over. Leaving me to sit completely still except for the tears that ran their course down my face.

I knew these lyrics were his. I was up too many nights with him writing to not recognize it by now. His narrative had always and will always be recognizable to me.

Listening to the song, I felt the air shift around us. It answered all the questions I had been wondering for two years. Did he care? Was he effected? Was it easy for him to walk away?

I could hear the desperation in the singer’s voice as she sang, but I knew the soul was resonating from the lyrics. The words that Harry wrote, the words that were too damn personal for him to publish as his own.

As the song came to an end, I covered my mouth with my hand, attempting to stifle the sob that wanted to escape and never stop. The grief for what we had had been shoved down so far, only released in the angsty ballads I would write.

I nodded to the questions I could feel hovering between us. “I believe you,” I cried.

It was those words that caused his shoulders to drop, as if this whole time he had been acting a part of having it semi-together. Tears escaped from his closed eyelids, making their way down his cheeks to sheets below us.

I couldn’t help it anymore. I closed the distance and gathered him up in my embrace, letting his head rest against my shoulder. His arms closed around my middle so tightly I swore there would never be a way to separate us ever again.

We cried together. Mourning the loss of our relationship, the loss of a beautiful friendship—but also the sweet relief of closure, of confirmation, of anger being lifted from between us. I had been so angry when I saw him tonight, because he had left so many questions unanswered. Yet here we were.

I spoke too soon, but it was the last question I needed answered. “What now?” I whispered against his hair. “What do you want from this?”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll take whatever you’ll give me.” His voice was muffled, lips against my neck. “I just know I can’t live without you in my life anymore.”

That was all I needed to remove the space of air separating us. I grabbed his face in my hands and pulled his mouth to my own, relishing in the feeling of his such familiar lips. It had literally been fucking years, but I knew the most comfortable way to kiss him was by letting my top lip rest near his cupid bow’s as his pressed into my lower one.

I tugged it between my teeth, my body completely melting as he let out a groan that sounded as if it took two years of anticipation to create. I pressed as close as I could to him, cursing fucking physics because I wanted to destroy every atom that separated us for the last two years until now.

Harry pushed me back until my back hit the mattress, a breath escaping my mouth as his lips traveled to my neck, peppering soft kisses there, sucking and pulling at my jawline.

He murmured into my ear, “How far do you want to go?”

It wasn’t his lips pressed against the shell of my ear that gave me chills, but the fucking consent.

“Take me.”

And that’s all I had to tell him.

There was no teasing, no foreplay. Harry gently lifted my shirt over my head before working on my pants, taking his time as his eyes examined every inch of my skin. He peppered kisses against my wrists as I reached for his shorts, letting me ease them across his long legs.

He stared down at me. “You look so different but-“

“- exactly the same?” I finished, smirking up at him as he nodded, blushing a bit.

He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he continued, running his hands down my bare chest and torso. “you’re so different from the Talia I once knew. More resilient…refined… I love it.” He took a breath. “I love you.”

A sob racked my chest as I forced his lips back down to my own.

“I never thought I’d hear that again,” I murmured into the space our lips created when we pulled back to catch a breath. “But I love you too.”

There wasn’t this awkward moment where we had to relearn each other’s bodies. I think the most magical thing about it was the simple fact that the chemistry had been there—despite the years that separated out last encounter.

When Harry entered me, a gasp escaped my lips. Not of surprise, but in the way of satisfaction because no other man had filled me up like he did. No one could compare to the way his body rolled into mine. The mesmerizing way his shoulder blades moved beneath the skin under my fingertips. The way that I felt breathless because of the fan of kisses he planted across my face before placing lips back to my own.

Harry’s hips continued to knock against my own, the rhythm slower than the quickies I was used to. It was more meaningful, as if each stroke into me was saying something that his tongue couldn’t make sense of—and it all added up to the final conclusion: I love you, I love you, I love you.

His grunts became quicker as his stomach tensed above mine. “Are you close?” he said breathlessly, as if any sudden movement would bring about his undoing.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me to hit the spot where I knew only he could touch. Nodding, I bit the skin underneath his earlobe, wanting my love bite to be present for the world to see tomorrow.

There was a familiar bubble building in my stomach and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I climaxed. The way his sweaty body was hitting my own would be enough to set me off right there, but I held on as long as I could to enjoy the sweetness of this moment in all its complexity.

Harry’s breath hitched. “Shit- Tal…” Sloppy hip thrusts. “I’m about to- “

That was all it took for me. Seeing the man above me come completely undone unraveled the array of butterflies in my stomach as pleasure eased its way into my bloodstream like an IV. My whole body lit on fire as I sank into the mattress, feeling the slight pulsating of his member inside of me.

Harry collapsed on top of me, chest pressed against my own, breathing in tune with my lungs.

I let my hands run down his back, stroking the warm skin slightly as he clutched my torso. “I don’t know where I expected tonight to go,” he began. “but being inside of you at 5 a.m. was not it.”

I chuckled, my breath blowing the hair off of his forehead.

He stilled. “I missed the sound of your laugh. Almost as much as I missed seeing you leaned over a guitar singing random words to make sense of your emotions.”

I smiled at that memory. “I’ve found a much better way to songs write these days.” I said.

His head tilted up to look at me. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” I grinned. “it’s called unhealthily bottle up your emotions until they just kind of overflow.”

His lips pulled up at the corners as he closed his eyes. “Oh, love… you haven’t changed, have you?”

I let the silence pass for a minute, enjoying his body tangled up with my own. “Did you ever write any songs about me?” I finally asked.

Harry sat up, hovering over me to make sure he could meet my gaze. “Have you not listened to any of my music?”

“No.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Two Ghosts, Ever Since New York, From the Dining Table… I could go on, love but you’ll have to buy an album.”

I swatted him playfully. I had avoided the album when it was released—except for the few tracks I heard hit the radio. It had been too hard to hear his voice.

He laid his head back down on my chest. Intertwining our fingers together, he hummed to himself. A distant melody that I didn’t recognize but fell in love with all the same.

We fell asleep like that.

…

I was welcomed with a nice surprise when I opened my eyes to an empty bed in a hotel room. I could hear a distant muffle of Harry’s voice—possibly in the bathroom—talking quietly on the phone. There was a small stream of light from underneath the curtain. My heart warmed when I noticed the clips from the closet’s clothes hangers tightly grasping on the curtains as to not let light shine through.

I stretched my arms above my head, taking a glance at the alarm clock to see it was well within the afternoon.

A door shut.

“Good morning, love.” A sleepy Harry rounded the corner, still shirtless but this time adorning boxers on his lower half. His hair was mussed as he ran his hand through it, leaning against the wall. “I was just changing my flight plans.”

I frowned. “When do you leave?”

“Tonight.”

It wasn’t that I thought he would stay in this hotel room with me forever, but I hadn’t considered the thought that he would be leaving so soon. We really hadn’t thought past getting through last night.

“You can come with me, you know?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I can’t just leave.”

Harry leaned onto the bed, crawling his way to me until he hovered above me, eyes shining with mischief. He spoke as if it was the biggest secret to the universe, his voice low, he said, “Open for me. On tour. Never leave my side.”

I didn’t expect my own reaction, but I let an infectious smile creep onto my face, brightening up my cheeks and leaving a sparkle in my eyes. I knew I still had to talk to the boys, but for now, my answer was:

“Okay.”

A few people said they wanted a tag list for this story. There will be only one more part, but if you want to be tagged, feel free to message me (after you reblog of course ;))

#harry styles imagine #Harry Styles #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #angst #harry x singer #harry styles imagines #short story #love story #celebrities #prehistoric

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