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baek-at-it-again95 · 6 months

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Intro: Siren (Sailor! Hongjoong x Siren! Reader

Synopsis: Killing men is all you have ever known—it's what your species does. However, you have recently begun to question your purpose. When given the chance to save a human, your experience leads to new discoveries

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence.

Genres: fantasy au, angst, fluff?

A/N: Helloooo atiny babies! HAPPY HONGJOONG DAY! I was supposed to be writing a four page paper on the odyssey and ended up being inspired to write this. What can I say? LOL :) Thank you for so much love with the previous hongjoong series as well <3

You lie on a bed of rocks near the shore of your island, listening to your older sisters gossip and giggle amongst themselves. They always talk about rather useless matters. Your tail glistens beautifully, each obsidian-colored scale appearing shiny when the dense clouds decide to reveal the bashful sun. The waves that crash over the rocks create a refreshing mist that dusts your grayish skin. The voice of your eldest sister interrupts your relaxation.

"Y/N, you have not joined us to hunt humans in a while. Have you become weak?" she asks sharply. Your other sisters giggle.

"No," you answer quickly. "I...I have just been thinking a lot. What is our purpose? Why must we kill humans? We do not even eat them." Another one of your sisters places her hand over her chest, surprised.

"Why must we kill them? Oh, Y/N, we are just helping the world. Men are vile creatures. They cause every problem. They destroy the world and then destroy themselves. We are doing the gods a favor."

"They cannot all be bad." You argue, cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment. Are you wrong to think so?

"Do not be foolish, Y/N. If you get yourself into trouble, I can only say I warned you," your eldest sister speaks again. You avoid her eyes.

"Look!" Another sister points to your left and all of you follow her clawed finger. A large ship approaches fast from beyond. Speak of the devil. Your sisters gasp with excitement. "This will be fun!"

"Y/N, come with us this time. It will be good for you," the eldest says. You reluctantly push yourself off of your rock and slide into the water below. You follow behind all of them, consumed with guilt for what is to come.

With just a few strokes of your strong tails, you arrive at the ship. You station yourself a bit farther behind everyone else as usual. One of your sisters mischievously splashes the surface of the water with her tail, causing a commotion for the humans on board to peer at. Just as she desires, a man comes to the railing, pointing and calling over his crewmates. One by one, more men join him at the railing and look on in fascination. With all of your tails now hidden under the dark water, they must think you are mermaids or sea nymphs. They do not fear you as they should.

The last man to appear at the railing piques your interest. He is similar to you, the way he quietly positions himself farther from the others in the group. While the onlookers pay attention to your sisters, you make eye contact with the man at the end...and you can't look away.

He is the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.

You cannot possibly stay and watch as your sisters kill such a beautiful thing. Ridden with guilt, you disappear below the waves and swim to the other side of the ship.

Once you surface on the other side, you hear a voice from above filled with concern. "Miss!" You look up to see the same human, looking down at you again from the other side of the railing. Why did he follow you instead of watching your sisters making all the commotion?

It is then that you hear them. Your sisters begin to sing, their voices like honey but dripping with venom as they lure their prey. You panic as the human turns his head toward the other side of the ship. You cannot let him die. They can't kill him. You quickly begin to sing a soft melody yourself. The human suddenly turns back to face you, entranced by your voice. Despite refusing to sing for quite some time, it comes naturally, your voice as sweet as always.

You continue singing, luring him with your sweet melody until he plunges into the waves beside you.

***

You had pulled the unconscious human to the shore of your island, your strong tail allowing you to arrive quickly. You hurriedly laid his body on the pale sand and retreated back into the water to watch him from a safe distance. How will he act when he wakes up? Your sisters have always told you human men can be violent and unpredictable...but you have only seen them under the influence of your enchantments. Besides, this human did not look at you in that way.

After observing him from afar for some time, you begin to get antsy. The human does not stir, just lies peacefully, chest rising and falling slowly. You cautiously swim closer, looking for any more signs of movement. Pushing yourself onto the shore, you sit yourself next to him. Now you are able to take a longer look at him, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. There is sand in his soft, wet hair, and his pale skin is flawless. He is truly the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on.

"Hello?" you whisper meekly. No response. Curiously you draw closer to his face, touching his cheek slightly. When he does not move, you boldly trace your finger across his sharp nose and jawline, fascinated. "Pretty," you say out loud. A sound nearby causes you to look up, eyes darting around to look for any sign of a threat. When you don't see anything, you look back down at the human. His eyes are now slightly open, peering up at you. You gasp, scooting away from him.

"Wait," he says. His voice is angelic, so soft and light. He tries to sit up but holds his head, stifling a groan. You hurriedly move back to him, lightly touching his head in concern. Your eyebrows furrow together as you observe him, your thumb brushing over his temple gently. He stares at you in awe. "Did you...save me?" You look at him with wide eyes, nervous about talking to a human. You have only used your voice to sing for them, killing them one after another for as long as you can remember. You are afraid to hurt this one.

You decide to start with one word. "Yes." Your species has the ability to speak in any tongue in order to lure your prey with a song they can understand.

"I see, how—" You see his gaze land on your tail, eyes widening. "A mermaid?" he questions. Should you lie to him? You do not want him to fear you. Mermaids are a completely different species. Though you have similar anatomy, they have much more colorful tails, and they lack the ability to lure their prey with song. You must have taken too long to answer, because the man says, "Yes?"

"No." You look at him nervously before letting out another word above a whisper. "Afraid."

"Afraid of what?" You watch as his gentle hand comes to hover over yours. As his hand touches yours, you tense, but immediately relax at his warmth. Humans are warm. You forgot that they are, since their bodies soon turn cold after dying.

"Hurt."

"It hurts for you to speak?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. Maybe now you can try more than one word.

"No. I do not want to hurt you." He tilts his head.

"Your speaking hurt—oh." He glances at your tail again. "You must be a Siren."

"Yes," you reply, eyes wide since he figured it out. Humans are intelligent.

"Why have you not killed me?" At this, your heart sinks. Is he afraid of you now? Maybe it was a bad idea to even interfere with your sisters' plans. What will he do when he realizes they killed his shipmates? You think about your words carefully.

"Killing humans was all I knew for a long time, but I do not wish to hurt them anymore. My sisters think there is something wrong with me." The man's eyes search yours with a gentleness you've never seen. Your free hand comes up to touch his face again, just as you did when he was still asleep. "Beautiful," you say suddenly. The human touches your hand that traces his face, looking at you with the prettiest brown irises.

Why do you kill these human creatures?

He draws closer. "Y/N!" The piercing voice of your eldest sister calls from the water. You pull away from the human, struck with fear. Following the fear comes a sudden jealousy. You do not want your sisters to see him. He is yours. "Y/N, have you finally killed something? Let me get a look!" She laughs, swimming closer.

You cage his body protectively with your arms and hiss at her. "Mine!"

"Alright, alright. But I want to hear all about him later." She smiles, disappearing into the dark sea. You turn to the human, fear evident in his features.

"You are not safe here," you say. Your guilt returns, the uncomfortable feeling arising in your stomach. "You must go home. I will take you back to your abandoned ship, and I will pray to the gods that you arrive safely home."

He seems hesitant, but he agrees. "Thank you for saving me. You are very kind." As he thanks you, the realization that you would be parting from him completely sinks in. An emotion you have never felt before begins to overwhelm you. You touch your face, wiping at a warm liquid that falls onto your cheeks. You look down at your hands with confusion.

"They are tears," the human says. "It happens when you are sad." You look up at his now blurry face, feeling more tears drip down your cheeks. "It will be alright," he says, using his thumb to wipe them away. He stops suddenly, proposing an idea. "Come with me."

Leave with a human? Humans and Sirens cannot coexist...can they? No human has ever left this island alive. But you could change that. After all, you have grown tired of your life here. Killing men and listening to your dreadful sisters every day is not what you desire.

If you cannot leave with this human, you would rather die anyway.

"Yes." You use the back of your hand and wipe away the rest of the strange tears coming from your eyes. "I would like that."

#ateez au #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez reader insert #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong au #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong day

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

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the28thofseptemberr · 3 years

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helloooo!! i didn't do a fic rec last month because i was so busy with my exams and barely had time to read, so this month's post is going to comprise of mostly fics i've read in june but also some i've read in may.

thank you to all of the incredible writers, please go support them!! and remember to read all of the tags and possible warnings before reading the fic! here is the list of fics (mostly below the cut):

read

•° — led by your beating heart by @missandrogyny 29.4k | E | famous harry/non-famous louis

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any help right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

note: this was so funny and cute and well written, and everyone was characterized so perfectly!! i adored the chemistry between louis and harry, this fic kept me smiling for the whole time while i was reading <3

•° — sounds like love to me by @neondiamond 14.6k | G | kid fic

“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?”

Louis watches as Harry’s face falls with the realization that this is one of those things he won’t be able to experience. For a second, Louis considers saying no, to show Harry they’re truly on the same boat through all of this. But he nods in the end, reaching over for Harry’s hand as the doctor flips a switch. Noise fills the room then, and it takes a few seconds for the sound to become clear enough for Louis to make out the baby’s fast heartbeat.

“It’s really fast,” he voices his thoughts out loud as he uses his thumb to tap against the back of Harry’s hand, replicating the rapid rhythm of the baby’s heartbeat. It takes the younger man a little while to figure out what Louis’ doing, but a huge grin breaks out on his face as soon as he does.

“Is that them?” He signs with the other hand, his own eyes starting to tear up when Louis nods.

OR: Harry is deaf, Louis is pregnant. They figure it out.

note: i'm not a fan of mpreg or kid fics in general, but i stumbled across the fic post for this on my dash and the summary sounded really intriguing to me, so i had a go at reading and it did not disappoint!! it was really sweet and fluffy but also so touching and heartbreaking in some parts. plus, i really enjoyed how harry and louis worked together and supported each other.

•° — this restless dream by @afirethatcannotdie 5.6k | NR | first meetings

“Hiii, I called earlier about the dogs?” he asks, taking a few steps closer to the desk where Louis is standing. He’s taller than Louis, with a dimple when he smiles and bright green eyes. There's a cute eagerness about his whole presence. “Do you have any puppies?” He’s a bit like a puppy himself, actually.

AU. Louis works at an animal shelter and Harry wants a puppy. Things don't go quite according to plan.

note: this was so so adorable and soft, especially since i have a soft spot for h&l with pets. i also have a soft spot for h&l being oblivious lovesick idiots and this was perfect!!

•° — all i see is you, lately by @runaway-train-works 2k | G | first meetings

Harry noticed him for the first time three months ago. He couldn’t not, really, what with the man being so pretty and all, and Harry remembers it well because it was three days before his birthday and he had joked to himself that seeing someone so gorgeous for three days on the trot must be an early present from the Gods.

The one where Harry has a crush on a fellow commuter.

note: this one was quite short but so sweet and perfect and lovely!!

•° — the things i'd do to wake up next to you by orphan_account 36.1k | M | amnesia fic

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

note: this fic was incredible, i'm always up for an amnesia fic and this one was heart-breaking and realistic but also sweet and fluffy as well :)

•° — this glorious mess by theweightofmywords 14.2k | M | post-breakup

His head lolls to the side, and his eyes float open to focus on what used to be his bedside table.

It’s empty now, devoid of the framed photo of the two of them. And Louis knows that he has no right to feel hurt, but somehow, this only confirms what this really is.

“This is the last time,” he cries, his voice breaking both from pleasure and pain.

“I know, baby,” Harry breathes, burying his face in Louis neck.

note: this is the third mpreg-centric fic i've read this month and... i don't even like mpreg?? but god the premise of this fic intrigued me so much, and it was lovely and emotional and beautifully written.

•° — BLAH BLAH BLAH there's a moment you know (you're f*cked) by @mercurial-madhouse 3.2k | M | spy au

Anyone impulsive enough to betray their country is either foolish or overly-confident. Louis’s too cunning for the former. So his inflated ego tips precariously close to the edge between pride and hubris. In sum: He may be an expert, (as proven by the .32-cal Beretta Alleycat Harry found strapped to his back) but ex-agent Louis Tomlinson will explode like a busted bullet misfiring in a broken gunbarrel if Harry can find his trigger.

___

Or, the spy AU in which Harry thinks he's prepared to meet Louis only to find he's not.

note: the banter and tension in this fic was so good and so fun!! i need moreee

•° — every lonely place by @ham-palpert 38k | E | time travel/alternate lives fic

Facing the fact that he’s been prioritizing his career over his relationship, Harry proposes to his longtime boyfriend Louis on a whim. But when yet another work emergency takes precedence over their plans, Louis decides he’s had enough. Harry goes to bed drunk and alone, and when he wakes, he finds himself in an entirely different world. Over and over again, Harry visits a lifetime he’s once lived, across time and dimensions. And wherever there’s a Harry Styles, there’s a Louis Tomlinson.

note: this was such a unique fic! and such an emotional one too, love the message it sends and the character arc and development was so good

•° — tick-tock by bubblegumclouds 6k | G | soulmate au

When Louis was born to Jay Tomlinson with a tiny 2 years on his clock, it starts the most beautiful love story. Even if things are missed, fate finds a way to make it work.

note: this was just so, so cute and fluffy and sweet! i loved it

•° — baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny 3.2k | T | coffee shop au

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

note: this was so lovely, and i especially really loved the little section talking about louis' name and how it suits him!

re-read

•° — one shines brighter by @afirethatcannotdie 11.8k | T | wedding fic

“Hi, baby. You doing anything fun today?” Harry shrugs. “Dunno. Thought I’d see how I was feeling before making any plans.” “You wanna get married?” Louis asks. Harry’s face breaks into a smile, and he nods. Louis’ lips are just brushing Harry’s when Gemma appears in the hallway. “You two are in so much trouble.” Harry's wedding was never supposed to be the happiest day of his life. No, that was going to be the day after, when he finally got to start his marriage. Unfortunately his family (and Louis) have other ideas.

Featuring a pair of moms who only want the best for their kids, meddling sisters with too much time on their hands, and a groom who gets caught up in the fairytale.

note: i adore this fic!! it's so so so adorable and so soft and well written, and you can feel how in love h&l are with each other. so so good!

my own fics

•° — under your bed in new york 33.4k | T | exes to lovers

"We know you're still in love with Harry."

Louis' nostrils flared up. "I'm not—"

"Louis."

"I'm not!"

there are many things louis likes to tell himself. we broke up for a reason. it's been so many years. and of course, the classic: i’ve definitely moved on from him. but when he suddenly finds harry back in his life after three years, louis realizes he might be a little less moved on than he thought.

au; spilling coffee onto an ex, being set up on dates, and having a nosy puppy might be all louis needs to find love again

note: i didn't actually write or publish this one this month, but i did edit, revamp and make a fic post for it this month so i thought i'd put it in here anyway. reblog the fic post here!

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #hl source #1d source #fic rec #my fic rec #2021 recs #fic list #june rec #june 2021 rec #*#sched

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dreaminginvelaris · 3 years

Text

sorting acotar characters into hogwarts houses

idk why i decided to make this post but it was fun sooo...

lmk if y'all agree or disagree. Also please no hate, sometimes a post is just for fun and i don't need any negativity. UNLESS its hate for elain which by all means go ahead ;) (because of ppls sensitivity, this joke isnt an invitaion to go on a full blown elain hate rant just offer a few jabs, especially if you agree on the elain section and move on, if you wanna go on a rant, message me or submit a post and i'll response, all the love <3)

Slytherin: Ambition, Cunning, Leadership, and Resourcefulness

Rhysand: of course Rhys is Slytherin, the man screams Slytherin. We all know he's cunning, often coming up with plans to get what he wants, leader well duh, he's a high lord and loves it and is great at it, he's ambitious, he's a dreamer, so of course, he wants more, and he's resourceful, always being able to think on the spot. Rhysands second house would be Ravenclaw for sure though.

Eris: uhhh do I even have to explain? wants to be Highlord, boom ambitious. seems to be the one in charge of his brothers and has many responsibilities, boom leader. being able to achieve what he wants, boom cunning. resourcefulness...yeah I don't got an example for that one, anyways 3/4.

Azriel: daddy az is a Slytherin, I mean obviously this is the best house (is it obvious yet that I'm a Slytherin ;) but fr, I debated sorting him into Ravenclaw, but even though yes he shows Ravenclaw traits it's not the ones we see the most of or the ones that really shine through Azriel's reserved personality. The main traits azzy boo here has from Slytherin are Cunning and Resourcefulness, and imo these are the ones we see from him every page.

Amren: im putting amren here too, she's literally both!

Gryffindor: Brave, Courage, Daring, Chivalrous

Cassian: this one is self-explanatory, how many times has he put others before himself, how many times has he endangered his own life to save others. that's a Gryffindor soul he has. he always tried to do the right thing, he's brave as hell and reckless at times it seems from the little snide comments we've gotten from the books, he would have been a marauder no doubt.

Tamlin: I hate to do this I do because I love my lions, but I had to put this piece of shit somewhere and since he reminds me of peter Pettigrew bc of his cowardness, I'm sorting him in here. I'm so sorry guys ;(

Morrigan: helloooo, the house colors are red and gold??? obviously mor would demand this house, yes demand. but not just that she's crazy brave, at only what 18? i think, she stood up to her family, making a decision she knew could have her ending up in a horrible situation. but she always is brave, shes gotta when her evil family is still in her life.

Hufflepuff: Loyal, Kind, Patient, Hardworking

Gwyn: i choose my girl gwyn for Hufflepuff bc let's face it, she is the embodiment of Hufflepuff. She's loyal to her new friends, emerie and Nesta, and the priestesses. She's kind as we can see when she first met Nesta and when emerie and Nesta shared their stories. She's very patient never snaps at that bitchy priestess who idk the name of as well as patient when it comes to her and Azriel's tender new friendship and hardworking, always doing her job, running around the library, for her work, always researching more ways to help the Valkyries. i debated putting her in Ravenclaw, because of her intelligence, but i think she's a Hufflepuff through and through.

Elain: IT HURTS MY HEART PUTTING PLAIN ELAIN IN THIS HOUSE. but I gotta, the only trait this plant sniffer has out of all the houses is "kind and patient" EVEN THOUGH SHE'S NOT REALLY LMFAO. I've made a post on explaining why this dirt lover isn't as kind as the books make her out to be, and I would argue she isn't actually patient at all, I mean did we miss how she was basically frustrated Nesta wasn't getting better even though it had been like what 2 weeks, LMFAO. but yeah I mean she's not loyal unless you have food and money then oh yeah she'll be loyal and she's not hardworking bc I mean she never did jack shit and still doesn't, sorry to do this to y'all.

Note: some of yall are so soft. this is not an anti elain post. sorry i insulted her but hey its my post, and i have commentary on each character to explain why i feel they belong in a certain house. sorry i happened to insult your fav. but this isnt an anti elain post, just like its not anti tamlin or anti eris. its just a post about all the characters period, which is why i inculded all of them in the tags. hey, i even insulted Nesta a little bit, but I'm not gonna tag anti-Nesta bc it's not a fucking hate post. get off this post if it comes across you and you don't like what I say, it's not hard to literally just scroll, trust me I've done it multiple times especially when it's a hate post on my beloved characters and they didn't use the anti tags. it's not fucking hard, grow up.

Ravenclaw: Wisdom, Wit, Individuality, Intelligence

Feyre: I debated putting queen feyre into Slytherin, I mean she shows the traits for sure, but it's not really if she shows the traits it's what shines the most in her. Ravenclaws are known for their creativity (bae luna Lovegood <3) and feyres an artist, even in her darkest times she remained an artist, always seeing portraits in her mind, always admiring the beautiful colors of the world. We know she's intelligent, picking up reading and writing quickly, and we also see it when she's strategizing, with the inner circle. Feyre is so wise, she had to be, she had to grow up quickly, you often see her in the books giving advice, because even though she's only 21, she's lived a lifetime. and the whole book of acomaf can show you how witty she is, I mean its what made us fall in love with feysand.

Amren: tiny snowball amren is literally a slytherclaw, she has all the traits from both. but because of how well she is with coding languages and how she always reads and does puzzles i think she'd enjoy being a Ravenclaw.

Nesta: I thought about this for a while, really looking into where she would thrive, Ravenclaw is for her no doubt. She's herself, always has been even when that wasn't such a good thing... but she's witty too if you make sure to not count the "the book is about...a book" I'm sorry that line makes me laugh every single time. we haven't really seen much of her intelligence but I'm guessing she is. but really she would love to be in a house where ppl are themselves and read, i can already imagine her creating a book club where people can be themselves and enjoy smutty books like her.

Lucien: originally I was going to sort him into Hufflepuff but then I remembered how intelligent he is, how witty, and I remembered in acowar he talked about how being the youngest of what 7 heirs? he had the chance to really educate himself which he loved to do, to really learn about his court, idk this man just screams intelligence to me.

I left out emerie bc i honestly don't know where to sort her, i feel like i just don't know her too well or understand her enough to sort her, so feel free to lmk where she would belong :)

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #rhysand #tamlin #cassian #azriel #elain archeron #mor acotar #lucien vanserra #amren #gwyneth berdara #eris vanserra

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dreamyaqua · 3 years

Note

Helloooo~!! I'm the same person who talked about Hyunjae and Haknyeon's rising signs! When I first wrote it, I wasn't deep into astrology yet. I've researched and tried to learn more about the Greek gods, the mythology, planets and associations to better my understanding. So, this time, I present all 23 members of NCT. To form an opinion on this, I watched their personal variety on their YT channel, took note of their physical habits and appearance, and read first impression stories. (1)

Also, don't worry about answering this right away! I just got very excited and wanted to share this :DD we currently have 5 members with confirmed risings; Johnny, Taeyong, Kun, Doyoung and Jaehyun. That's 18 members left, still! Also, I relied much more on their first impressions of each other as well as their appearance, habits and their neutral face because idols put up an act, which is enforced by their company. I'm running out of words so– (2)

(I decided to put the rest under a cut as the ask has gotten really long and I also put your asks together in regards to each member, I hope that’s okay!^^)

First up, Taeil! My first guesses for him were Scorpio (ruled out immediately lol), Capricorn and Taurus. I went with Capricorn at the end. Taeil just has a home-y, fatherly aura which Earth signs have. According to the members, he has that strong vibe that makes you want to learn from him. And we know that Capricorn is ruled by law and structure loving planet, Saturn. Saturn is associated with Cronus and Hestia. (3) Hestia is peace and home while Cronus was briefly the ruler of all. So, in short, a parent. Taeil as NCT's grandpa is accepted by many czennies. Which fits well. A typical Capricorn rising could have a petite stature as well as a wide-ish body type. Earth risings do tend to be stocky. Lips are usually either thin and wide or round but when they smile it's bright and feels familiar. It all starts from home~ Next up, Yuta! (4)

Yuta? Scorpio rising. I did try to see if he fits anywhere else but landed right back to Scorpio. One main reason, when he smiles, it's real. His healing and genuine smile is definitely a Scorpio rising trait. He's also pretty quiet in general but can get wild *insert clip of Yuta and Taeyong's chair race* and maybe even stir things up. Scorpio is associated with, Hades. Hades is generally a warm soul unlike his gruesome depictions. He's just a peaceful yet lonely guy. When he loves he LOVES (5) Traits seen in our double Scorpio royalty, Yuta. Winwin, Mark, Shotaro and Jungwoo is his Kore and Cerberus (you decide who's who).

Easy tackle, now we've got Ten! Your local cat mom. As I say that, I guess Leo. Leo risings have feline features and traits, which Ten definitely has. When you watch his relay cam, his day's pretty chill and made more fun by his cats. They're just positive morning people and Ten really has that effect. Leo is associated with Apollo and Heracles (and more). (6) Apollo's a talented man (if you read Lore Olympus, I just hope you don't associate those characters with the actual deities) and so is Heracles. What do they have in common with Ten? Well, both Apollo and Ten are artistic, gifted with languages, and talented in music. With Heracles? Well, we know he's a hero, an ace. Leo is also the sun. The core of our system. We can definitely agree on Ten being NCT's talented ace, which all supports my guess of him as a Leo rising. Next, Winwin.

My first guesses for Winwin were either an Aries or Leo rising. Though, at the end, I settled for Aries. The entirety of NCT is in love (obviously, exaggerated) with Winwin, and fire signs naturally have that magnetism. Aries rules the head area, and one frequent habit of Winwin's is scratching his head. He also tends to put his head forward (called a nerd neck, due to book reading) which is typical of an Aries rising. He also appeals with his eyes when he wants something, also very Aries. Winwin as an Aries rising just feels true and self-explanatory.

Next on our list is Jungwoo. A total Slytherin. Be a fool and fall for them, I dare you–oh never mind, you already have. Safe to say that Jungwoo is a Libra rising. Libra is Aphrodite afterthewholebeingbornoutofcastratedtesticlesthenformedfromseafoamshenanigans. We all know that Librans are pretty people. So pretty it's sickening, I'm getting too personal now. BACK ON TOPIC. I also had the thought of him being a Leo– I mean, if you've seen NCT World, Jungwoo definitely shone. Leos and Libras are similar in my opinion so it could be why I'm so unsure about it. Not many know but Aphrodite is a war goddess. Her role is very watered down, maybe because war was just not sexy to the Ancient Greeks. Still, Aphrodite conquered hearts, and Jungwoo has that main stage. Life is like a runway, especially with the way he walks. He also loves connections and making people laugh, both an Aphrodite and Apollo trait. Reason why I settled for Libra is that the first impressions of Jungwoo is that he looks serious, radiated sophistication but also wild. Aphrodite, being a magnetic and adventurous (iykwim) mad lad, has a definite influence on Jungwoo.

The next member is Lucas (12 more to go!). Lucas tries his best to make people happy. He loves seeing people be happy. And seeing how he says sorry when things don't seem to be exciting or done his usual way, I'm convinced he's a Libra rising.

I've written notes down but I have school so I'll complete this after LMAO

Back (new classes today so I'm hnghh). Okay, Mark! I believe he's where I left off. Mark is an Aries rising opinion. Also, while trying to hunt for their birth times, I stumbled upon someone saying Mark's birth time is 10:34pm. I tried it and it was Aries rising! Some habits that Mark does that's total Aries; touchy, laughs a lot, swears more than most, loud personality. He also has the Aries t-zone. His lovely gullbrows~

Next, Xiaojun. I was honestly stuck on him until I watched a fancam of him walking to the airport. His steps seem very grounded. Possibly, Taurus. I also thought he was a Scorpio and Leo but with the way Xiaojun gets defensive doesn't feel very water or fire (Aries is an exception). Xiaojun also enjoys food and cooking. He finds comfort in work, likes the easy way better, he's also quite practical. He's also hardworking. Probably either finishes homework the day it gets handed or when he's stressed. No in between. (I erased everything, I wrote by accident...)

Hendery has the Air sign look and also the Earth sign vibe but in the end, I settled for Sagittarius. Why? Well, Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter (Zeus) and we all know that Zeus can get impulsive. Hendery seems to be so. Sag is also associated Dionysus, the stereotypical wild "people love people" drunk. Which Hendery also seems to be so. That's all for him. Next up Renjun.

Renjun has a habit of scratching or just touching his ear and head, his fight instinct is on 24/7, gets frustrated when something doesn't go right, very attentive when people tell stories, uses his whole body when laughs (stomping, throwing his neck back like it don't break). I guess he's either a Gemini, Pisces or Aries. The easily bored so they make chaos but also is helpful when needed trio, Hermes, Poseidon and Ares. Renjun just has a distinct style I can't pinpoint. No solid guess.

Dream's papa, Jeno. I believe he's a Capricorn rising. He just has that long faced, big nosed and intense eyes that Capricorn risings, from what I've observed, tend to have. I've also took up Libra and Taurus as other options but I went with Cap. Even if his go-to noises is confusion. I probably don't make 100% sense but I hope it's good enough. Anyway, Jeno has a potential to become a leader and Caps are great leaders. Not perfect but great. He also has some competitiveness in him.

7 more left! Haechan's turn! Haechan really does twist and turn people's heads. He could be a Gemini rising, mostly because he uses his hands whenever he talks, laughs, sing. He's also a trickster. Maybe Scorpio since he has that rbf and the presence that makes you quiver when you meet him in person. Another possibility is Aries, he's wild, impatient and banter skills are top notch. His silhouette either looks Arian or Scorpian. Face, Geminian or Arian. What do you think?

Next, Na Jaemin. Virgo rising. Jaemin knows how to smile, like he knows how to attract people with it, and we all know his smile is beautiful. He also has that motherly attitude towards his friends. A total introvert as well and is just calm (but can get naggy and fastidious). CEO at eye rolling, even if habitual and unintentional. GenZ Artemis.

Next, Yangyang. I'm dead sure on him being a Cancer. The way he walks is so baby? and my Cancer rising friends tend to do little skips and sometimes waddle. Whenever an opportunity arises, he takes it. He also enjoys comfort. These may be Taurus rising traits as well (they're similar in many ways) but when I watched ETC, Yangyang seems to have a protective side. A clingy side. So, I went with Cancer.

Shotaro is next! Always smiling, gentle voice, admires people and loves fun. Libra. A possibility is Aries. This is based on appearance. Arians tend to have weak chins (chins that don't stick out). He also has the "always look forward to tomorrow" vibe.

I-I don't remember who's next...

I suddenly forgot what I wrote before this. I should've planned this. SUNGCHAN. My Virgo buddy. When I first saw him his vibe screamed Virgo, he just had that short face Virgos tend to have. It's a mutable sign so it tends to get overpowered but every virgo I know has a short face despite being different ascendants. I was struggling figuring him out but I decided on Pisces. I'll be taking a stretch here. So descendant is how a person views the world. His being Virgo. Sungchan seems to look at the world as structured so he could feel the want to rebel. He seems to enjoy chaos but probably helps mediate the situation for the sake of doing so. My thoughts are slowly getting tangled.

CHENLE. Chenle's a virgo rising and mostly because his rbf is piercing. He always looks like he's observing and silently judging people. It makes more sense for him to be a Scorpio as well. Yes, he's bright and fun but Scorpios do have that side. Just more serious and a lot of roasting.

FINALLY THE MAKNAE. Jisung Park. Libra rising. He just likes peace but when he's chaotic, he'd want you to match his vibe. A balance, in a way. He also seems to get frustrated/stressed easily, gullible, awkward hands, and he's always quite pretty. Calming to look at. That's all. What do you think their signs are? I want hear your opinion :DD Also, I hope your exams went well!! You probably put in your 100% best so of course it did!!

First of all, thank you so much for your support! My exams actually went well and I’m so relieved I got it all over with for this semester.^^ And now, as you’ve already noticed in an ask I’ve answered earlier, I don’t cover NCT on this blog and therefore, I haven’t really given their rising signs much thought so far, so I’m not going to really have an opinion myself but I wanted to thank you so much for your hard work with all of this and for sharing it with us!! It was super interesting to read and I can only say that I think all of guesses make sense to me.

As a Leo rising myself, I felt super flattered while reading Ten’s paragraph - I’d feel super honoured to share my rising sign with him and I also feel like his energy is familiar to me, so I could totally believe that to be true!^^ And also, omg, I’d love for Yangyang to be a Cancer rising! I seem to attract Cancer risings left and right and he’s recently become one of my ults, so that would be great :’) (I’ll definitely start to analyze him more in the near future haha)

Oh, oh!! Btw, my close friend @jacksvnshine made a very in-depth analysis of Mark’s possible rising sign and she guessed him to be an Aries rising like you did! She’s so amazing at what she does and if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t know a thing about astrology. So I can highly recommend checking out her blog and I also really want to link her analysis for you here as you might find it interesting to read, and it’s exceptionally well made!^-^

I’m sorry that I can’t really give you my opinion on their rising signs, I haven’t studied them enough in that sense :( and I personally struggle with rising sign guesses because I always feel like I don’t know enough to make an “accurate” guess but oh well- a guess is a guess, we can never know for sure but my mind doesn’t really want to accept that. :’)

I truly enjoyed reading through your messages and guesses, thank you again for sharing this with us!! I’m sure there’ll be others who’ll find it interesting to read as well!^-^

#astro asks #rising signs #nct rising signs #wayv rising signs #wayv #nct #kpop astrology #nct astrology #wayv astrology #ask

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kikiscastleinthesky · 4 years

Text

THE SOKKASM ZUTARA

I’ve seen a lot of tumblr blogs that ship zutara and I decided that is time for me to open mine too. So, yes, I’m a zutara shipper. And for the time being, my posts are going to be dedicated principally to analyze the ships in ATLA.

Disclaimer alert: I’m not forcing anyone to ship zutara. And I won’t accept hate because I (and many others) may have a different opinion, If you are one of those persons I invite you to leave, don’t waste my time and yours, because I’m not even going to reply. Everyone has the right to ship whatever they like and want, without been mocked, harrassed and humiliated.

Well... now that everything is settled: 3...2...1 go!

I’m starting with this small analysis, because every zutara shipper has been attacked on why zutara and zutara is horrible yada yada but, this ocassion I’m gonna use all the attacks we get and defend it.

I. Zutara is way the worst toxic relationship:

You call Zuko the abuser, the toxic and the bad tempered? Then you didn’t get a clue of his redemption arc.

You call zutara toxic for:

a) giving your mother’s closure and final acceptance into the group?

b) saving each other’s life?

c) being the “leading co-parenting” of the group?

d) support you when you’re about to beg for his uncle forgiveness?

II. The cave scene didn’t mean anything, and just think about it, they would never ever get along well:•

Of course, I misunderstood Zuko confessing his own grief, probably he just hates her.

When Katara opens to her mother sorrow like she never did with anyone was like no big deal.

That part when she offers to heal his scar with SACRED water was totally illogical.

And being the first person who he let touch his scar really said to me that they were absolutely toxic.

Yes, he betrayed her initial trust. And it hurt, but guess who betrayed worst? The man who for three years was his father. But nope, Iroh, should never forgive Zuko, for what he did. (Right? Katara was betrayed and she should bever have interest in him, so Iroh would never forgive his abuser, right?)

III. Zutara is about getting in love with your abuser:

The abuser love? When did Zuko abused Katara? When did he forced to do something she didn’t want? Did he ever physically abused her or sexually assaulted her? Even if he tied her to a tree, he never humiliated her, he never hurt her or overpass against her. Or are you trying to make up his whole plot to eliminate all his attacks towards team avatar only rest in the female character? (Have you forgot how he betrayed his uncle? Or even himself?)

IV. Zutara is an age gap, it would be underage thing. “You don’t like Aang because he is a child and still pair Zuko, being a minor.” You want to hypersexualize two kids (Aang and Katara) into having sexual interest.

Katara would have been dating an underage guy too. She would have been 18 and Aang 16. I know! Age gap only matter when the man’s older. Both Katara and Zuko had gone through puberty, and both were in adolescence, both shared the same maturity level. Yes dude, there a huge difference in being a CHILD and being a TEENAGER, yes, still minor, But with puberty hit already.

Actually, I still believe even being 11-12 you can get like a… spark… a hint. Even if its not a relationship whatsoever, and not having sexual interest of any kind. If you really want to see what closest we get to a “real” attraction and potential between kiddos that age, you get S1Mike and Eleven (stranger things) / you get Chihiro and Haku (Spirited away) / you get Pazu and Sheeta. (The castle in the sky) –Wooo, that really changes things right?

But yet there are people that believe shipping zutara is “pedophile” I thought in seriously not replying to this stupidities but, here I am, dismantling their theories.

So, this is real life. An adult person trying to sleep with a prepubescent kid. So… there is no support on this. Because a ship is about two fictional characters in a fictional story.

What about fictional pedophilia? Well, we can change that: Fictional pedophilia is a psychosexual disorder when you ship an adult fictional character (+18) to have a sexual interest in a fictional prepubescent child (-12) and / or attempt to engage both characters in sexual acts.

So step one… are either Zuko or Katara either an adult or prepubescent child? As you can see in the image at the right, both have gone through puberty. Step two, are you trying to a couple of minors to get sexually involved? No, this is a love story, not porn. And before you yell at me for the porn zutara comics/fics on the web, I guess you should see the porn Kataang /fics comics on the web too.

But I don’t hate any ship. So, technically, neither Kataang, nor Sukka, nor Yukka, nor Jetara, nor Maiko is pedophilia.

Ok, yeah yeah its not pedo, but is statutory rape, so yet it’s illegal.

Oh yes, if we state that 18 is the age where you are considered an adult (at least in my country) both are minors, your term is partially correct. But guess what would be statutory rape too?

Sukka (15) and Maiko (16-17), both implied to have sex relationships and canon during the series.

The episode "The Southern Raiders" became (in)famous among the fandom for what is a truly epic instance of this trope. Zuko bumps into a very flustered Suki on the way to Sokka's tent, and she hurriedly excuses herself. He walks into Sokka's tent to ask him a question and finds him pants-less and surrounded by flowers and candles. He even greets Zuko with a suggestive "Well helloooo..." before he realizes who itis. After a short talk, he rushes Zuko out and sticks his head out to call for Suki. And if there was any doubt, Sokka is shown the next morning fiddling with a flower necklace for no apparent reason... except to indicate that maybe Suki had been “deflowered”.

And yet, if Kataang had sex, it would be statutory sex at some point too: 16 and 18 -Conclusions: Statutory sex takes all ships equally.

V. Poor Aang he would be devastated.

Kid, he’s 12, in the comics he’s 13-14. Or what? Haven’t you guys had a broken heart ever? Your high school sweetie? Or Aang’s so frail to not be able to find love? To close himself for a better opportunity? Seeking your own happiness in not selfish. What is selfish is seeking your own happiness at the other expenses.

And even that, we all know what would Aang do if Katara starts a relationship with Zuko. (Even if it wasn’t Zuko, I highly doubt he would like Katara dating someone else) He would go on avatar rampage. That is NOT healthy, that is NOT romantic. That is extremely possessive and selfish to do. It’s psychotic. Because Aang cares more about himself than Katara’s feelings, even if she would be happier without him.

VI. Zutara is all about sex interest.

Well once more you mistake chemistry with sexual needs. Wanting me to sleep with my husband means I only use him for sex relief? If I find myself sexually attracted to anyone probably means I just want to sleep with that person and nothing else.

VII. A hug is all zutarians have to acknowledge zutara:

We have a complete extended analysis in all the small details, but we like to use that forgiveness hug because in that hug you have more potential that all the kataang scenes all together. We have thousands of complete analyses, pages dedicated exclusively zutara.

VIII. Katara “fell in love with Aang” and it’s not one sided.

Uh... Nope, just because two persons are good friends it doesn’t mean they are a good couple. Yes, the way the both of them interact is absolutely beautiful, But not romantically.

Do we see Katara’s view on romantically being drawn towards Aang? Yes, we see it, and yes, unfortunately, is one sided.

How Kataangers complete this:

· The fortune-teller: I didn’t see like “Wow omg the avatar is going to be my future husband!” But… was like “uh… really?… well, I guess it’s him” Zutarians and Aunt Wu are the base for many backs up theories. ;) Aang is not the only powerful bender you know? And actually, that episode is way trying too hard to demonstrate the crush Meng has for Aang and Aang has to Katara. How is even healthy to accept that sometimes persons don’t like you back and it’s not the end of the world.

· The cave scene: I forgot that Katara is telling him to be her boyfriend and they will live happily ever after. And really, it all gets us to a real Oma and Shu theory. Not to mention that they were “forced” to kiss because their kids innocence believed if they kissed, they wouldn’t die, and that Aang messed up things as well. But if you see it beneath, if she was truly interested, she would have told Aang: “wow omg we kissed, ok. let’s give him a clue…” nothing, she goes back in treating him same as always.

· The headband dance: Well that’s a fair point yes. Actually, I felt something different…unfortunately Katara later had to tell him not to kiss her.

IX. Zutara is because you projected on Katara and had a crush on Zuko, because Katara and Zuko were your favourite characters and because is the bad boy style romance.

My crush was Jet <3, and zutara was the most logical endgame for girls. Ask any girl, ANY 14 yo who would like to date: A high school, nice and handsome guy or a 7th grader that had potential to be her best friend. (See the logic)

And nope is not like “Insert fav characters of the opposite sex to ship them” You need to see real development.

I don’t know why they stereotype Zuko as the “bad boy” – relationship archetype. Zuko is never seen to be the classic fuck boy who treats girls like shit and suddenly there comes a lady to change him. Maybe he is a “bad boy” (confused though) in S1 and S2, but his redemption arc is literally the answer of why he is not “bad boy” anymore.

If Katara was truly and really romantically interested then she wouldn’t have friendzoned Aang. Once? Nope 4 times. And also… are we forgetting kind of imagery…

Friendzoned

When Aang fixes her a small necklace with the fishing thread.

When he kissed her at the invasion. She didn’t reciprocate it. (I’m not even mentioning the mommy proud speech)

When he wanted to talk about the kiss in the western air temple (Comic love is a battlefield)

When he kissed her at the play and she had to told him to back off.

Strange imagery

She was June Pippinpaddleopsokopolis (Aang’s granddaughter)

When Aang got shot, she held his body in her arms in the exact way Mary held Jesus in Pieta’s sculpture.

She was Sapphire Fire. (Aang’s pregnant mother)

After they got married, in the book legacy, she said she enjoyed most seeing Aang becoming a man. (Honestly ladies if I got a BF the least I want is seeing how the kid transforms into a man)

I’m looking forward to watch you grow into manhood as I did to your father (Katara’s letter to Tenzin)

I’m really trying to deny Oedipus complex here.

Still hard for me to track Katara’s love interest for little Aang since all we see is more a relationship mom/sister or Harry/Hermione. I have heard rumours that Bryke wanted to give the ship “mystery” and “expectation” but I think they really messed up, I didn’t see expectation or mystery, I saw a child insisting to a girl that didn’t reciprocate. It wasn’t even like she didn’t have much of a chance, because her love interests:

Was killed by Long Feng

Gave him a hideous mustache and disappeared him after Azula’s attack in the western air temple.

Forced to be attached to a toxic relationship.

Apart that all those points I’ve mentioned, Kataang is not a relationship for me. Staying in a formal relationship with the first person they met of the opposite sex at 14 -12 (guys not even Disney does that, jeez not even studio Ghibli) and not having any chance to experience any other relationship. Never experiencing a broken heart, or someone better. I think that it gives the wrong idea, telling guys that no matter how long they are placed in friendzone, eventually the girl will fall for them. They just have to keep insisting.

You could say, but what a hypocrite! Snow White was 14 years old when she went to live with that prince! Many princesses are 16! And not to mention that many men were the first they met! Like Aurora, Rapunzel, and Cinderella. Well, you are right at one point. But ... the interaction of these characters changes radically, mainly because they never "give cute kisses" to their future husbands, nor do they treat them like their brothers or their children and ... the men were never friendzoned, except for Naveen at the beginning. You see the real attraction of teenage girls with an older boy. And I'm not saying that they should never be friends or support each other. Mulan and Chang were allies, friends, they supported each other, they saved their lives. But at no time was there the kind of interaction Katara and Aang had.

If Kataang was to be endgame, we would see Katara’s reaction to Jet, totally different, THAT kind of reaction was what I was waiting. (That kind of reaction is what every princess do, at least one time)

The same chemistry we saw in Yukka / Sukka. Honestly, I saw more chemistry between Haru and Katara.

Or at least give us some character development like: Aang, I know my feelings where not as you wanted but now I decided I want to be with you because (list everything here except he being the avatar), I really like you, perhaps we can give it a shot. Or like several things that could clue us that she is interested (come on people, two persons can kiss/hug/ have sex and that doesn’t imply they will be together in a formal relationship) But all we got was: Oh, right, he’s the avatar... suddenly I fell for him and I’m gonna kiss him fully in the mouth and that’s how I’ll tell him and that all my confusion has magically disappeared.

X. I’ve never saw that kind of spark between them. Again, it was “Just a hug”

Yes! That’s initially the whole point of it, a friendship hug, the truth of why we don’t need silly blushes. Because that forgiveness hug shows their initial relationship, they are friends! All their love needs to come first from a truthful friendship, by the contrary of calling the “immediate falling” like Aang did for Katara, it shows us that friendship love can evolve into something more beautiful, and that’s why we like the ship, because all zutara shippers know Zuko and Katara wouldn’t fall in love like that all of the sudden, they have to create the romantic relationship, and that’s what we portray in the fics.

What makes Zutara exceptional is that he, sees her, he hears her, he listens what she had to do, at anytime he forced her to do something she didn’t. And before a “teenager adolescence ship” he sees her as a human, with feelings with own ideals and goals.

And there is a complete and extremely well based analysis in: The crossroads of destiny + The southern raiders + The lighting saving.

XI. The comics show us how toxic they really where.

Their interaction in the comics was something I like to call: destroying a character. Not only Katara, who turned to be that awesome badass to the submissive girlfriend. From how I see it in the series to the comics there’s all I have to say: That’s not my girl.

XII. How Katara could be queen of a country that almost aniquilates her tribe and killed her mother? It would be a betrayal.

I think this argument is out. Not valid. Is like saying a Jew can’t date a German because of the holocaust. (German doesn’t mean nazi, just as Zuko, who was from the Fire Nation and didn’t order Katara’s mother assassination, and not every citizen of the fire nation means a ruthless killer). Is like saying that a Japanese can’t date a us citizen because of the bombs in WW2. And even if we see it “political”, is like… an aphrodescendant can’t rule a country that is racist, then Mr. Obama would have never reached the presidency.

Two persons can unify them, because they can demonstrate that being from different country that initally has not good terms can reach peace. The union between those countries represents the power of maturity, of overcoming adversities and the power of forgiveness. *Our lands now connected by love* And I want her to be queen, I want her to rule, I want her in charge, I want her in power. Imagine all the potential she could have (politics, business, negotiations, rebuilding, restoration, education, public health!! ***faints***) Not only for the fire Nation but for the whole world! Imagine that once Zuko abdicated they left to the south pole and she opened a fighting school and a healing school of her own (like master Pakku, but now her students are given a medical license that acknowledges them as professional healers) And this is just an idea. Like these ideas are hundreds. It would have been the perfect feminist role model!

XIII. Since the beginning, Katara was always interested in Aang and she always supported him and was for him when he needed her. That’s proof they were meant to each other.

If a girl expresses faith in your abilities, she loves you, she hugs you, and she supports you clearly she’s completely into you. Because obviously female best friends don’t exist.

#zutara #ATLA #Zutaradefense #Ifyoudon'tlikeitscrollaway #Noreplytohaters #Katarandzuko #Dismantlingtheattacks

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onceuponastory · 4 years

Text

Coming Back Home Chapter Two: I Am A Heart

“I am a heart that’s hard to pin, You are an arrow sticking in” - hey ocean!: i am a heart

Read Chapter One: Hometown here!

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable…until her sister asks her to show Nick around town…a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: There’s a few mentions of death in this chapter. If you’re sensitive to it and don’t want to read this chapter because of it, I totally understand <3 A/N: This is a very long chapter, almost 2,500 words long, so I hope you all enjoy it, lmao. As always, this chapter has been checked for errors, but if you see any pls do let me know. I’m going to be inactive this coming week, because I’m taking a little staycation to a place with very limited wifi, so if you send me a message/request, it might take me a while to respond. But I will respond ASAP! I will also be trying to work on chapter three/other stuff whilst I’m away, but I REALLY need this break, so pls don’t get mad if I don’t write anything.

Again, special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Adjusting my hair and outfit in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, I sigh. “You look fine, stop adjusting your outfit...” I tell myself. “Nick’s not going to care how you look....right?” God, I’m a mess. Putting on yet more lipgloss, Jane’s voice echoes in my mind.

“Both of you look so much like your mother. Especially you Y/N.” She was right, I did. Not that I had many memories of how my mother looked when she was still alive, but hours spent leafing through stacks of photo albums with my Nana and Katie when we were younger had made me more familiar with her and how she looked. She was gorgeous. I wish we had more time with her. If we had, our lives would be very different...and I would never have come to this town in the first place. Suddenly, I feel stinging sensation at my eyes. Aaaaand I’m crying. Great. Just what I fucking needed. A knock sounds at my door.

“Y/N? Are you alright? You’ve been up here a while.” Nick’s voice sounds through the door. No, THIS is just what I fucking needed. Shit. Now he’s going to think I’m a total emotional weirdo who doesn’t want to spend time with him. Not that that was a TOTAL lie, I did want to spend time with him....just anywhere but here. Oh, he’s going to hate me. “If you’re not feeling well or something’s come up, we could do this another time?” Nick continues, and I sigh again. He’s so sweet. I can’t let him down. Quickly trying to stop the tears from falling, I open the door, and Nick smiles. “Hi. You look great.” I immediately blush.

“Thanks...Oh! So do you!” I gasp, trying not to seem awkward.

“Thank you.” Nick chuckles. He looks at me closer, and his eyebrows furrow together. “Are you okay? Have you been crying?” He asks.

“Uh, no! It’s just...allergies.” I lie. “The dust in this house is terrible. So...shall we head out?” I ask, and Nick nods. The two of us walk downstairs.

“Byeeee you two! Have fun!” Katie’s voice calls from the living room. Oh, I’m sure I will.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Nick asks as the two of us leave the house.

“I don’t mind. I mean, we could go to the park, or for a coffee....or just, a walk in the woods?” I suggest. “Actually, maybe not the woods. There may be an axe murderer, or the big bad wolf or something.” I immediately cringe as soon as the words leave my mouth, and Nick laughs. Oh god, he’s laughing at me and how cringy I am.

“I mean, I didn’t personally think of that, but that’s a valid concern. I think we should take the park then.” He says, and I nod. “This way?” He points towards the town, and I nod. He sets off, leaving me standing there.

Well, that went better than expected. Oh right, I better go catch up with him.

“So, how long did you two live here?” Nick asks as we both walk closer into town.

“Um, about...sixteen years.” I work out the maths in my head. “We moved here when I was four, and Katie was two. We both left to go to college.”

“Oh! I thought this was where you guys were born.”

“Nooo, we just call it our hometown cause we’ve lived here from such a young age. At this point, it feels like our hometown. We’re actually from New York City, and we both moved back there for college. I live there full time now. Katie’s in New Jersey.” I explain.

“Oh, what a coincidence! I live in New York too.” Nick smiles. “Small world, right?” I nod. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why did your parents pick here to move? This place is nice and all, but it’s a lot different than New York.” He asks. A memory flashes through my mind.

“What the hell do you expect me to do? I can’t look after them! This shithole is the best option, and you know it.” I shudder, hoping Nick doesn’t notice.

“Um....just personal circumstances really. Our Dad wanted a change of pace and scenery for us. He thought the city was too busy for us to grow up in.” Nick nods, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Another crisis averted. I look up at the sky and see the leaves on the trees. Some were bright orange, whilst others were red. I sigh happily. “You gotta hand it to my sister, she picked one of the most beautiful times of year to get married.”

“Yeah, beautiful.” Nick mumbles, and I look back over at him to see him looking at me.

“What?” His eyes go wide.

“Nothing! Just agreeing with you!” He gasps, before continuing to walk. Okay, that was weird. I shrug it off and follow him down the street. After a while, we reach the park and begin to walk around together. The two of us are silent as we take in the scenery around us. The leaves crunch under our feet. I was right, this time of year really was beautiful. The cold wind blows, and I shiver. “Want my jacket?” Nick asks.

“No thanks, I’m okay.” I smile. But come on, giving a girl his jacket? That’s so cliché...and so damn cute.

“Want to go on the swings? That might warm you up a bit.” He suggests. Another memory enters my mind.

“When’s he coming back?” I ask, tugging on her skirt. “I miss him.

“...Soon, sweetheart. He’ll be back soon. Why don’t you go and play on the swings and I’ll come over and give you a push in a minute?” She suggests, and I nod vigorously.

“Okay! See you in a minute!” I call, running towards the swings.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go on the swings.”

~~~

A few hours later, Nick and I were in the local coffee shop, chatting about everything from our interests to our time at college. “So when do you want to practise our big dance number?” Nick asks, taking a sip of his coffee. I sigh.

“Oh right, I forgot we’re meant to plan that at some point.” Nick chuckles. “So, what song do you want to pick?” Nick shrugs.

“It’s up to you, I’m okay with whatever.” I raise an eyebrow.

“Really? I don’t think Katie would be happy if we picked something like Baby Got Back to dance to.” Nick bursts out laughing.

“You’re right. But it would be funny. Any suggestions?” I shake my head.

“I mean there’s so many...maybe something slow? Or something more upbeat?”

“Well we have some time, so why don’t we each make a list and pick one?” He offers. I nod. “You know, I had a really nice time today...” Nick begins. I smile.

“Me too.” And I actually meant it. Despite how much I was dreading this, it went better than I expected. My phone rings, and I take it out of my bag. “Hey, Katie...Yes, I know...Okay, I’ll be back soon. Bye.” I hang up.

“Everything alright?” Nick asks.

“Sorry, turns out I’m urgently needed for some maid of honour duties, so I gotta go. Are you okay here, or do you wanna walk back to the house with me?” Nick waves me off.

“No, don’t worry, you go on. I need to take care of something in town anyways. See you later.”

“Bye, Nick.” I leave the coffee shop, and start the walk back to the house, almost feeling a spring was in my step. For the first time since being back here, I was happy. I was comfortable. And it was all thanks to Nick. I soon reach Nana’s house and walk inside. “Helloooo!” I call.

“Well, someone sounds happy.” Katie’s voice sounds from the living room. She comes out to greet me. “Oh. My. God. Look at the smile on your face!” She gasps.

“I had a great time with Nick today.” I explain.

“I can see that. Guess my big sister has the hots for the best man, huh?” She teases. My eyes widen.

“No, I don’t!” My cheeks flush.

“Mhm sure. Deny it all you want, I can tell. Anyway, come on you, we need to make the centrepieces.” I wasn’t in love with Nick. I may love spending time with him, but I absolutely was NOT in love with him.

~~~

That Night

"We are here today to honour the life of Rose L/N.” The priest begins. “She was a light in the lives of many, especially her two granddaughters, Y/N and Katie, who she is survived by. For most of their lives, she was also their guardian.”

“He’s not here.” Katie whispers in my ear. I discretely roll my eyes.

“Of course he isn’t. He stopped caring a long time ago.” I reply. I find her hand beside mine and give it a squeeze. “We have to be strong together now, like she said. It’s just us now.”

My eyes open, and I look around the room for a moment to get my bearings. I’m still in my childhood bedroom. It was just a dream. A dream featuring our past. A past I had tried to run from. Of course, it found a way to find me again. It has a funny way of doing that. My eyes drift over to the bedside table, displaying a picture of Katie and I with our Nana from many years ago. I smile softly and run my fingers over the image. “I miss you, Nana. I wish you were still here. To guide me...to guide us.” Laying back on my pillows, I sigh and hold the picture close. “Maybe if you were still here, I wouldn’t be such a mess.”

~~~

One Week Later - Fifteen Days Until the Wedding

“I’m just saying, Cinderella continues to be the best live-action Disney adaptation. It’s faithful to the story, the costumes are great, and it’s just so cute!” I exclaim, trying to stifle a yawn in the process. I was still having nightmares and barely sleeping. Thankfully, I was managing to hide it well, and nobody suspected anything. If they did, I could just lie and say I was up late working on bachelorette party plans and lost track of time. Nick laughs. “What?”

“I love that this is what you’re passionate about.” He grins.

“Well, I’m absolutely right.” I tell him, and he nods.

“Oh, absolutely.” I had a feeling that he had no idea what I was talking about, which was usually the case. But he agreed with me anyway, which I appreciated. Despite all my nightmares and bad memories, spending almost every day with Nick was helping me feel happier, and far more comfortable. It also took my mind off of my nightmares from the previous night. Nick was lovely, and I actually felt upset whenever we had to go back to the house. The fact he was gorgeous helped too, of course. Before I can say anything else, I suddenly spot the town’s bakery and walk over to the window.

“Look at all these cakes.” I smile. “Oh my god, those cupcakes still look delicious.” I state, staring through the window at them. “My Nana used to bring Katie and me here every Friday after school, and we’d each get a cupcake. I always chose the birthday cake ones, cause it felt like we had a birthday celebration every week.” I smile fondly. “It’s one of my favourite memories of her.”

“Do you want one?” Nick asks, causing me to look over at him. “Seriously, do you want one?” He repeats, taking out his wallet. “They do look amazing. And after all, today is Friday. Can’t waste traditions.” He smiles, and his smile almost makes my heart do backflips.

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Seriously.” Nick opens the door of the bakery. I hear the wind-chimes over the door sound as we both walk in, just like they did all those years ago. The smell of baking is everywhere, filling me with a sense of comfort.

“Oh god, I remember this smell. It’s so...familiar.” I whisper to myself, closing my eyes. In that moment, I feel like I’m a little kid spending time with my Nana again. But when I open my eyes, I’m back to my real life, and the nostalgia is gone.

“I’m coming, just give me a few minutes!” Someone calls from through the back of the bakery.

“Opal?” I ask. Opal was the owner of the bakery...at least when I still lived in Saint Chase. Like Jane, she was friendly and welcoming, and every customer was her friend. She always used to sneak Katie and I samples of her new loaves of bread and cakes before we went to school in the mornings. If we liked them, they stayed. She always called us her honorary business partners. Of course, now I know she probably said that to every kid who wandered in, but it made kid me feel great.

“That’s my name, don’t wear- oh!” She gasps, immediately retreating back through the door she came from. Nick and I give each other a confused look. Rose returns a few moments later, carrying a small cake.“Katie! You look so different from the last time I saw you. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding!” She grasps my hand and shakes it vigorously, then does the same to Nick’s hand. “Want to see a preview of the cake? This is in no way finished, but it’s just a small sample of the real thing.”

“Oh no, I-”

“We’re not-” Nick and I begin, but Opal ignores us.

"You two are going to just love it.”

“Opal! I’m not Katie!” I insist. She gasps, and her eyes go wide. “Katie is my sister. This is Nick. He’s the best man.”

“Oh my goodness, I am so sorry.” Her face goes red. Nick and I reassure her that it’s okay. “Anyway, what can I get you?” Nick and I order our cupcakes, and she rings them up for us. Nick opens his wallet to pay for them, but Opal shakes her head. “No, please, these are on me. Count it as an apology...Seriously. I’m so sorry about the mixup.”

“Well, thank you!″ Nick smiles, taking the cakes and walking towards the door.

“Y/N...” Opal beckons me in closer, and I lean in. “I just have to say, you two are adorable together. I’m still sorry for my mistake, but honestly, you two look like a great couple.”

“We’re not-”

“Everything okay?” Nick asks.

“Oh! Yeah. Opal just wanted to ask me when we’re picking up the wedding cake.” I lie, giving Opal a pointed look. She nods vigorously. “Come on, let’s go. Bye Opal.” I say quickly, walking towards the door. She waves goodbye to us as we leave the store. Once we’re outside, Nick passes over my cake, taking a bite of his.

“Oh. My. God.” He moans happily. “That’s incredible.”

“Right?” I agree, taking a bite of mine. “It’s just as good as I remember.” Nick starts laughing at me again, and my eyes widen. “What? Did I say something weird?”

“You have icing on your face.” He responds. Of course I do. I’m a walking cliché, honestly. “Actually, you know what? I don’t care. This cake is that good.” I take another bite. “And besides, so do you.”

~~~

Later That Day

“That one looks like a dog.”

“A dog? No way. It looks like a hamster.”

“How the fuck does it look like a hamster?” Nick frowns.

“How the fuck does it look like a dog?” I respond, raising my eyebrow. Nick laughs. The two of us had finished eating our cupcakes (and wiped our faces), and were back in the park, drinking coffee and trying to see if we could tell what shape the clouds were.

“Guess we gotta agree to disagree.” I smile. “Even though I’m totally right.”

“Of course you are.” He says sarcastically, and I gasp in mock annoyance. But I don’t detect any malice from his comment...well, I hoped he wasn’t actually annoyed with me or anything, but he didn’t seem to be. Like I said before, I felt comfortable with Nick. Even though we had met a week ago, it felt like the two of us could joke with each other to our hearts content, neither meaning anything bad by it. It was weird how close we were, despite not knowing each other for that long. “Uh, Nick?” I ask, looking up again.

“Mhm?”

“Do those ones look like rain clouds, or is that just me?”

“I think you’re right, it’s-” The heavens open before he can even finish his sentence. “Oh god, okay, come on, I saw a bike shed or something over there, we can hide out there until it stops.” Nick tells me, quickly taking his jacket off and throwing it at me.

“What’s this for?!” I ask.

“What do you think it’s for?! It’s to hold over our heads!” Nick shouts. “Now come on, let’s go.” He holds out his hand, and I take it. He pulls me up. “Ready to run?” He asks. I nod. The two of us begin running through the park, holding Nick’s jacket over our heads with one hand each. We laugh as we run, trying to avoid slipping on the damp leaves or falling over. We soon reach the shelter, and Nick and I jump under it. The shelter is small, so our bodies are pressed up close against each other. I’m aware of the scent of his cologne again. Nick’s body is warm against mine as he wraps the jacket around my shoulders.

“You don’t have to give me your jacket.” I protest, but he insists.

“Don’t be silly. What would your sister say if I made her maid of honour catch a cold?” He asks.

“The same thing she’d say if the best man caught a cold.” I reply, trying to take the jacket off. Nick reaches out, gently placing his hands on my arms, stopping me. It feels like electricity runs up my arms as he touches them.

“Y/N, don’t worry about it. Honestly.” The two of us stand there, Nick still holding onto my arms. But it feels good. It feels...right. Nick keeps looking at me.

“Do I still have some icing on my lips?” I ask. Nick shakes his head.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles loud enough for me to hear. Whether I was supposed to hear it or not, I wasn’t sure. Nick leans closer to me, and my brain immediately goes:

“He’s going to kiss me. Oh my god, he’s going to kiss me. Do I even want him to kiss me?” And I realise that...I think I do want him to kiss me. Nick’s head moves closer to mine, and my head rises up to meet his. But just as our lips are about to touch, my phone rings, causing us to break apart. Dammit. I take my phone out, seeing Katie’s name flash on the screen. She always has the best timing. “Hey Katie. What’s up? ...Yeah it’s raining really badly. Yeah, a lift back would be great. We’re at the park. Okay, see you soon. Love you too. Bye.” Hanging up, I sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Nick responds. However, despite him saying that, it still felt like the air around us had changed. It wasn’t like we could go back to where we left off either, because everything felt awkward now.

Shit.

~~~

That Night

“Be good for your Daddy, okay Y/N?” She bends down and presses a kiss to my forehead. I nod. “I know I can trust you to help him look after your sister, right?”

“Of course, Mommy!” She grins, and pulls me in for a tight squeeze.

“There’s my smart girl. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I nod again.

“Have fun, Mommy!” I call, as she walks out of the door. And then, she was gone. The image changes into something else. “Daddy? Where’s Mommy? Why are you crying?” He blinks rapidly and bends down to my eye level.

“Mommy’s had to go, sweetie.” He explains.

“But...but where? She was meant to take me to kindergarten!” He looks away from me.

“I’m sorry. Your mommy’s an angel...she’s not coming back.”

Gasping, I sit up in bed again, looking around the room. My heart is racing. “It’s just a bad dream...Just a bad dream...” I tell myself, trying desperately to calm myself down. Getting out of bed, I cross over to the window, trying to ignore my shaking hands, and peek out at the night sky. Rows and rows of trees disappear into the darkness. “It’s not real. She died almost twenty years ago. It’s just a bad dream.” Clenching my fists, I furiously wipe at my eyes. "Dammit!” I curse.

I hadn’t had nightmares about the death of our mother in at least fifteen years. I thought I was finally getting better. Of course, life had other ideas. “I knew I should never have fucking come back here.” I hiss. That’s why still had bad dreams, because I was back here. I should’ve said no and ran when I had the choice. No, no, that’s stupid. Of course I couldn’t have said no. I could never let Katie down. God knows life let us down enough times already. No, I need to stop blaming the town for my problems. It’s my fault. I thought I was ready and healed, but obviously, I’m not. God, I need a drink.

Trying to be as quiet as possible, I leave my room and tiptoe downstairs to the kitchen, using my phone torch as a light source. Once I reach the kitchen and flash my light into the room, I almost jump out of my skin when I see a figure sitting at the kitchen table.

“Hey, I- Y/N?” Nick blinks his eyes, clearly startled by the bright light of my phone.

“Jesus Christ Nick! I thought you were a fucking murderer!” I gasp. He frowns.

“A murderer...who sits at the kitchen table? Anyway, why are you up so late? It’s like 2am!” I switch the light on.

“I could ask you the same thing. Why are you here scaring the life out of me at 2am?” He holds up some paper.

“Best man’s speech. I had a stroke of genius and decided to write some of it.”

“In the middle of the night? In the darkness? And people say I’m weird.” Nick chuckles. I cross over to the cupboards and get out some mugs to make tea. “Want some tea?” I ask, and he nods.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. What brings you here at this hour?”

“Oh I just love hanging out with men in kitchens at 2am, didn’t Katie tell you?” I tease, filling the kettle and putting it on to boil. Nick laughs. I can’t tell him the truth. Then he would think I was weird. “But seriously. Couldn’t sleep.” I mean, that wasn’t a total lie. Nick didn’t have to know the truth. “How’s the speech going?”

“Ehhh?” Nick responds. I turn back to him and raise an eyebrow. “Not well.”

“I can tell.” The kettle finishes boiling, and I pour the water into the mugs. “But I’m here now, so you have an extra person to help you.”

~~~

One Hour Later

“Y/N...Y/N?” I hear someone whispering. Is someone....nudging me? I look up. Why was my head on the table? I notice that Nick has scooted closer to me. Is he the one nudging me?

“Mmm, Nick...whashappenin?” I mumble.

“You fell asleep.” He explains. I shoot up in my seat and rub my eyes.

“What?!” I gasp. “Why didn’t you wake me up?! I was meant to be helping you with your speech!”

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” Nick reassures me. “You looked really tired, so I thought I’d let you sleep. You sure you’re okay?” He asks. Before I can say anything in response, I yawn. “Guess that answers my question. I think you should go to bed.” I shake my head.

“Nope. I’m not....” I cut myself off with another yawn. Nick gives me a look. “...Okay, maybe I’m a little bit tired.” I admit.

“Mhm. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He helps me up. I protest, but he continues to do so. “Y/N, trust me. You need some sleep. You’ll thank me later.” I realise he’s probably right. So, I let him lead me upstairs and into my bedroom, his hand resting on the small of my back. “So uh....can you take care of yourself from here?” He asks. I chuckle softly and nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks Nick.” I smile. “Goodnight.”

“Night Y/N.”

~~~

The Next Morning - Thirteen Days Until the Wedding

“You invited Great Aunt Hilda? Seriously? All she’s going to do is talk about her cats.”

“That’s why she’s sitting with you. At least you’ll have something in common.” Katie jokes. I jokingly punch her in the arm. “Hey!” She laughs. The two of us were spending the day arranging seating charts and finalising the seating plan. So far, it was all going well, and we managed to make it fun. “Oh, god.” Katie wrinkles her nose. “I forgot both Uncle Chris and Aunt Pamela said yes, AND they’re bringing plus ones. That’s gonna be rough.”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. Didn’t they get divorced like three years ago?” I ask.

“Yeah, but I don’t think Aunt Pam’s gonna be a fan of his plus one....” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh right, he dumped her for his secretary, the one with the big boobs, didn’t he? Are they still together?”

“Yuuuup. She’s the plus one.”

“Better sit those two as far away from each other as possible then...” I mumble, trying to arrange the tables on my side of the chart as best as I can. Studying the rest of the little figures representing people, I frown, seeing one I haven’t seen before. One I definitely did not expect to see. I pick it up, and my eyes go wide. “Uh, Katie?”

“Mhm?”

“...Why does our Dad have a seating place?”

#dacre montgomery #dacre x reader #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fic #nick x reader #coming back home fic

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starforsharon · 4 years

Text

Sexy Little Me

This is how Hollywood turns a pretty Texas girl into Sharon Tate, the star.

By John Bowers for "The Saturday Evening Post"

1. Two of Sharon Tate's three pictures have been produced in Europe. Although Texas-born, Sharon spent her adolescence abroad, and much prefers London to Hollywood.

2. Sharon will be shown off to American audiences for the first time in DON’T MAKE WAVES. On the set, she reacts prettily to a compliment from co-star Tony Curtis.

3. At 6 months Sharon won Dallas’ “Miss Tiny Tot” award.

4. Portraying a Las Vegas showgirl who becomes a superstar in VALLEY OF THE DOLLS, Sharon had to wear a 10-pound jeweled headdress which “gave her a headache.”

5. This picture of Sharon and her father, Maj. Paul Tate, at a 1965 Fort MacArthur party is from a large “family events” scrapbook that Sharon dutifully keeps.

6. Relaxing on the set of YOUR TEETH IN MY NECK, Sharon listens attentively as the Polish-born Polanski explains how she can improve her performance in the next scene.

May 6, 1967 – Sharon Tate had finished her last scenes for The Vampire Killers (later to be called Your Teeth in My Neck), and had no film work for the moment. At 95 Eaton Mews West, London, she moved about in the late afternoon looking for something to do. She sat Buddah-style on the living room floor and put on fake eyelashes, one eyelash at a time. She worried that a sunlamp treatment, taken a few hours before, was going to make red cracks in her face. “Doesn’t it seem to be getting all red on the cheeks? Look close now.”

She wore a gray sweat suit and furry boots, having been to her daily gym class that afternoon. She didn’t like the gym class, but Roman Polanski, her director, had told her she must go. She frowned into a hand mirror, thinking she saw a red streak. She started to bite a fingernail, but stopped. Roman had forbidden any more fingernail biting; she had a tendency to bite them down to the nub. She went to the refrigerator, and amidst Wyborowa vodka and Carlsberg beer, brought out the makings for a salami sandwich. She would not drink a beer because it might bloat her, and Roman was taking her out for dinner.

There was no place in the apartment for her to settle back and relax now. Everything inside had a transient look, as if the tenants would only be there a short season. A complicated stereo set sat on crates; Bach on top of a stack of records, Cannonball Adderly on the bottom. There were no pictures, no pets, no cozy heat. Upstairs on the wall was a framed citation stating that Knife In The Water under the direction of Roman Polanski had been nominated for an Academy Award. As Sharon reached for a folder of still photographs from The Vampire Killers to show a male visitor, she stuck up her bottom in a way she has; as she went through the photos, she pooched out her bosom. But she did it by reflex. Her thoughts were totally on her director, who was not there. She had been in three unreleased films – 13, Don’t Make Waves and The Vampire Killers, all with different directors.

If she caught the public’s fancy in any of these pictures, she would become a movie star. And she was pleased with her work in The Vampire Killers. She was in a nude bathtub scene in it, and in a brief sequence in which she got spanked.

The phone rang; it was a strange female voice with a French accent. “Is Roman there?”

“No, I’m sorry he isn’t,” Sharon said, in her accent of the moment, which was English. “Who shall I say is calling, please?”

“Oh – I just wondered if he were in. Tell him Barbara. Thank you very much..”

The dull London afternoon turned dark, and still no Polanski. He could be cutting The Vampire Killers, or he could be tied up in London traffic or he could be sitting in a café. She took off her furry boots and put her feet into his house slippers, which rested at odd angels by a mammoth bed that cost over $600. The slippers were far too big for her. She wondered if tonight she would be thrown with people who would overwhelm her with their wit, their awesome knowledge, their self-confidence. When she was out in public with Roman, she never felt adequate enough to open her mouth. She could only talk to him alone. Her problem was that she had always been beautiful, and people were forever losing themselves in fantasy over her – electing her a beauty queen, imagining her as a wife, dreaming of a caress. Most people had fantasies. But a few people, like Polanski, took charge.

At the age of six months Sharon Tate was elected Miss Tiny Tot of Dallas, Tex. Her mother had sent in photos of the beautiful baby to contest officials. Sharon’s father was (and is) in the Regular Army, and was then stationed in Dallas. (Both her parents are natives of Houston.) As Sharon grew up, the family moved around in Army style, her father frequently absent from home. She remembers that when her father would return from an overseas tour, and she had reached a nubile age, her mother’s first command would be, “Now you, Sharon Marie, button up that night gown when you come out of your bedroom. Daddy’s home.” Her father was very strict with her as she budded through adolescence, turning thumbs down on potential boyfriends and making her stay in nights. He was very strong and knew how to take charge.

But most people continued to do things for Sharon without her lifting a finger. At 16 she was elected Miss Richland, Washington, and a short time later named Miss Autorama. At the age of 17 she was in Verona, Italy, where her father was stationed, and the prizes mounted. At Vicenza American High she was a cheerleader and baton twirler, and was chosen Homecoming Queen and Queen of the Senior Prom. The Vicenza yearbook for 1961 shows her as a very pretty, large-eyed girl, with hair somewhat darker and hips a little broader than now. She daydreamed at this time about becoming a psychiatrist and a ballerina, and had little to do with her classmates. Yet if any far-out stunts or fads were proposed, this terribly quiet girl was ready to lead the way. “If miniskirts had come in then, ” she says, “I’d have worn the shortest one.”

Today the fad among young girls in cosmopolitan circles is to use the old Anglo-Saxon words in everyday conversation, and Sharon Tate leads the way. But back in Italy at 17, she was just starting her worldly knowledge. She watched the on-location shooting of Barabbas, a film about ancient Rome, and the family scrapbook now includes still pictures of Jack Palance and Anthony Quinn in the movie costumers they wore in Italy. As she walked in Venice one day, she was spotted by the choreographer for the Pat Boone Show, which was being filmed in Italy. She next appeared very briefly in one of Boone’s TV shows, and his glossy smiling face now rests in the album with a fond inscription for Sharon.

When the Tate family moved from Italy to Southern California, Sharon decided it was time to live on her own. She was 18, and she paid a visit to Harold Gefsky, then agent for Richard Beymer, a young actor she met in Rome. “She was so young and beautiful,” Gefsky, a softly-spoken man, said in his Sunset Boulevard office, “that I didn’t know what to do with her. I think the first thing I did was take her to a puppet show.”

He also got her work because her father, in Calvinistic style, had only given her a few dollars to sink or swim. One of her first jobs was dressing up in an Irish costume and handing out Kelly-Kalani wine in Los Angeles restaurants at $25 a day. She also appeared in TV commercials for Chevy cars and Santa Fe cigars. People who knew her during this period agree on one thing. She was the most beautiful girl in the world. “Everywhere I took her she caused a sensation,” Gefsky said. “I would take her into a restaurant and the owner would pay for her meal. Photographers kept stopping her on the street. I’ve lived in Hollywood since the mid-Forties, but I’ve never seen anything like it before or since.”

But at this point no one, except perhaps Sharon, knew if she wanted to be an actress. Then one day Gefsky took her by to meet his friend Herbert Browar, who was connected with TV’s Petticoat Junction. He thought possibly Browar could fix her up with a minor role, something to tide her over. Browar took one look at her and rushed her in to see Martin Ransohoff, head of Filmways, Inc.

Ransohoff has a strand of hair combed over his bald dome. He wears loose sweaters, torn windbreakers and breeches that are baggy in the seat. He first started producing TV commercials in New York when food particles were glued onto Brand X’s plate to show the differences in detergents. He branched out into TV programs with such commercial winners as Mr. Ed, The Beverly Hillbillies and Petticoat Junction. He then tackled movies on the order of The Americanization of Emily and The Loved One, which got mixed reviews but generally made money. He founded the company in 1952 on $200, and today it operates on a budget of over $35 million. He will talk about Oswald Spengler or H. L. Mencken and then croon into his ever-present phone, “Helloooo, Bertie, baby. Where’s the action, kid?” He chews gum till his head rings, smokes two packs a day and sends everyone to the wall with his adrenaline. He can be gratuitously cruel in speaking of others – “She’s got a lunch pail for a mouth,” he said of an aging actress, “and if we take out insurance on her, it’ll have to be that she’ll die.” Then he can take his twin sons to a football game, clean up a dog’s mess in his Bel Air living room, and talk to anyone in the world who has guts enough to call him. A rich man’s son, he sold pots and pans from door to door while going to Colgate and claims the experience taught him what the public will or will not buy. He had little interest in films before he became involved in them, and his favorite actress in the old days was Deanna Durbin – who, coincidentally, was also Polanski’s favorite. Both vividly remember her pedaling a bicycle down a shady street and singing through a dimpled smile. Not everyone has had pleasant dealings with Ransohoff in Hollywood, but all agree he is a super salesman.

When he first saw Sharon Tate, he squinted his right eye and did something that was very impulsive, even for him. “Draw up a contract,” he shouted. “Get her mother. Get my lawyer. This is the girl I want!”

He had not seen a screen test, not even a still photograph. She had hardly opened her mouth. But Marty Ransohoff, like the rest of us, has his fantasies – and Sharon Tate walked into one of his fondest ones. “I have this dream,” Ransohoff said, “where I’ll discover a beautiful girl who’s a nobody and turn her into a star that everybody wants. I’ll do it like L. B. Mayer used to, only better. But once she’s successful, then I’ll loose interest. That’s how my dream goes. I don’t give two cents now for Tuesday Weld or Ann-Margret..”

“I think he’s just trying to pull one over on the public,” Gefsky said.

Sharon signed a seven-year contract, and Ransohoff took charge. Gefsky, a nice man, bowed out. At first she lived in complete fear of Ransohoff, and did as she was told. “She wouldn’t even eat a hamburger if he told her not to,” a friend from that period said. If Ransohoff said she was to appear on The Beverly Hillbillies disguised in a black wig, she appeared. If he told her to go on a moments notice to Big Sur, New York, London, she went. Off and on she studied acting.

Jeff Corey, one acting coach, said, “An incredibly beautiful girl, but a fragmented personality. I tried to get reactions out of her, though. Once I even gave her a stick, and said, ‘Hit me, do something, show emotion’ ..If you can’t tap who you are, you can never act.”

Charles Conrad, another acting teacher, said, “Such a beautiful girl, you would have thought she would have all the confidence in the world. But she had none.” Among her friends, however, she began to refer to herself as “sexy little me.”

Ransohoff tried to place Sharon in The Cincinnati Kid – his own movie – but failed when the director demanded Tuesday Weld. He packed her off to New York to study under the personal direction of Lee Strasberg at the Actors Studio. “She was only with me a few weeks,” Strasberg said, “but I remember her. She was a beautiful girl.” In New York Sharon had a romance with a young French star, who offered her relief from her Texas style, Puritan upbringing. The actor was tall, dark and very nice. When they broke up, the actor bungled a suicide attempt.

Sharon continued to fear Ransohoff. Once, while driving at a high speed near Big Sur, she turned her car over four and a half times, but somehow managed to crawl out with only minor injuries. Her first thought was that Marty would be mad. The first picture he finally placed her in was his French made 13, in which she plays a chillingly beautiful, expressionless girl who goes about putting the hex on people. Completed many months ago, ’13’ still rests in the can waiting for a 1967 release date. Ransohoff flew Sharon back to Hollywood for her second film, Don’t Make Waves, in which she plays a beautiful, deadpan skydiver. Sharon’s first two directors were older men. Britishers – very polite, very nice and understanding with a novice actress.

And then Ransohoff began dickering with Roman Polanski, the Polish director living in London, to make a picture. Polanski, a tiny, baby-faced man whose explosive manner and Beatle-like appearance belie his much-admired skill as a maker of art films, wanted to do something with Ransohoff called The Vampire Killers, a spoof of horror movies. He wanted to play in it himself, and, as in all his movies, he wanted a beautiful girl in a supporting role.

“How about Sharon Tate?” Ransohoff said. “I was thinking more in terms of Jill St. John,” Polanski said.

At Ransohoff’s instigation, Sharon and Polanski had dinner together. He looked at her from time to time, but said nothing. On a second dinner date he was painfully silent once more. Real weirdo, she thought. What’s he waiting on? She found out shortly. Walking in London’s Eaton Square, he suddenly put a bear hug on her and they fell to the ground, Polanski on the bottom. Sharon clouted him and stormed off. “That’s the craziest nut I ever saw,” she said. “I’ll never work for him.”

But Polanski apologized, and they saw each other again. One night he took her to his apartment which had even less furniture than it has now and no electricity. He lit a candle and excused himself, flying upstairs to don a Frankenstein mask. He crept up behind her, raised his arms, and whinnied like a madman. Sharon turned and emitted a terrible scream. It took over an hour for her hysterical weeping to subside. Not long afterward Polanski informed Ransohoff that Sharon would do fine for The Vampire Killers. On the set he treated her as if they never saw each other at night. He cajoled, flattered, got angry – which ever worked – and never had lunch with her. During the nude bathtub scene, he snapped still pictures of her. Still enthusiastic, he had her pose all over the set in the altogether, and then sent the results to Playboy. She plays a gorgeous redhead in The Vampire Killers – and she shows

Roman Polanski walked into his apartment in a sharp blue blazer and high-gloss shoes, carrying a briefcase. He had a good-sized nose and searching, deep-set eyes, and he nodded briskly to Sharon. “A Barbara called,” she let out daintily. “Do you know who that could be?”

“A Barbara?” he called from the kitchen, out of sight. A pause. “You didn’t get any last name? Always get last names. I don’t know any Barbara that would be calling. Sharon, Sharon. There’s no liquor here. Always see to it that we have enough whisky. Can’t you do that?”

Sharon went on the phone to order some, worrying about which brands to specify. She didn’t want to be embarrassed by asking Roman – although he would certainly tell her. He knew the correct whiskey brands in London, the good pastrami places in Manhattan, and the right topless spots in Hollywood. He learned a country’s customs and its language in a couple of weeks. He took a bath now upstairs, calling down for Sharon to fetch him some tea. Later he descended the stairs in a cowboy outfit and boots, ready for dinner. Some movie friends had shown up, and he led the party on foot toward Alvaro’s restaurant.

At the restaurant Sharon basked in the eyes that roved over her. She listened big-eyed to Polanski explain the difference between the sun’s heat and that on earth, apropos of Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451. The only trouble was that it was difficult to digest pasta in such a giddy atmosphere, and she complained of her stomach. After Polanski figured out how to work the waiter’s ballpoint pen, he signed the check.

In a dreamlike state, Sharon began slipping into her fox fur coat in the foyer. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tall Englishman with a prep-school tie and large teeth popped up and put his arm around her. “Ummm, you have a sexy feel, love. Don’t we all love to touch you now..” She squirmed away.

Out on the street, she said, “Roman, a complete stranger began hugging me in there.”

“Yeah? Really?” A short distance away he suddenly spied a blond in fox fur who had the same duck walk that Sharon has. “Hey, there goes Sharon,” he said. “Let’s get her and put the two of them together!”

“Don’t you dare,” she said, her anger flashing. Another day, away from Sharon, Polanski said, “I’m trying to get her to be a little meaner, She’s too nice, and she doesn’t believe in her beauty. Once when I was very poor in Poland I had got some beautiful shoes, and I immediately became very ashamed of them. All my friends had plain, ordinary shoes, and I was embarrassed to walk in front of them. That’s how Sharon feels about her beauty. She’s embarrassed by it.”

Sharon has a quarter-inch scar under her left eye and one beside the eye, the result of accidents which she keeps having. As Polanski drove with her one night in London, meticulously keeping on the left in the custom of the land, an Englishman with a couple of pints under his belt hit him from the right. The only one hurt was Sharon, whose head bounced off the dashboard, spraying blood on slacks, boots and fur. An angry red wound appeared at the start of her scalp, and it will leave another whitish scar on her head. With blond hair combed down over her forehead to hide it, she skied at St. Moritz. And then she caught a jet for Hollywood because Ransohoff had called. She must redo a few scenes for Don’t Make Waves. She grumbled a little. She found she could grumble to Ransohoff now. She hated Hollywood, and she didn’t want to leave Polanski. Also, she hated to fly. She had to be drugged to endure it.

And then she appeared beside Ransohoff at La Scala restaurant in Beverly Hills. She had a black costume that looked more like a slip than a dress, and her blond head caught glints of movie-star light as she turned this way and that. “Oh, there’s David! David Hemmings. David, David!”

David Hemmings, who had been featured with her in 13 and had gone on to star in Antonioni’s Blow-Up waved. Other celebrities flicked glances her way, at each other, to the door to see what majesty might enter next. Occasionally they looked down at food or drink. The place was as crowded as Alvaro’s in London, the customers practically the same. Ransohoff wore an open-neck sport shirt and shapeless coat, and he talked business. “Listen, sweetie, I’m going to have to cut some stuff out of The Vampire Killers. Your spanking scene has got to go.”

“Oh, don’t do that. Why would you do that?” “Because it doesn’t move the story. The story has got to move. Bang, bang, bang. No American audience is going to sit still while Polanski indulges himself.”

“But Europeans make movies differently than Americans, ” she explained to the producer she once feared. “Blow-Up moved slowly. But wasn’t it a great film!”

“I’ll tell you something, baby. I didn’t like it. If I’d have seen it before the reviews, I’d have said it’d never make it. It’s not my kind of picture. I want to be told a story without all that hocus-pocus symbolism going on.”

“But that one scene, Marty. When the girl show’s her, ah –” (only Sharon said the Anglo-Saxon word). In Hollywood, New York and London they all talked now about Blow-Up, dwelling on that scene.

“Yeah, I got to hand it to the guy for that one.” Ransohoff said, chuckling. “He pulled a good one off there.”

“Oh, I want to do a complete nude scene,” she said. “Say you’ll let me!”

“OK, OK,” Ransohoff said, bored, looking toward the door. “Yes, yes.”

“Do it now. Don’t just say it.” Then Sharon got bored.

Early in the morning Sharon appeared before the camera at Malibu Beach, redoing a scene for Don’t Make Waves. The sun had a hard time getting through the wisps of fog, and strong klieg lights helped out. In a sequence with an undraped David Draper, “Mr. Universe”, Sharon stuck out her backside and shot out her front. Magically, a button or two came undone on her polka-dot blouse, and after close examination of camera angle, director Sandy Mackendrick decided to leave it that way. He gave Sharon guidance in rubbing mineral oil over Draper’s bare back, as the scene called for. “Treat him like a horse,” he said. “Pat him just as you would an animal. That’s the way..”

She lovingly went over Draper’s muscled back, and then went “ugh” when the camera ceased to roll. The scene was done over and over. In her tiny trailer dressing room, she took a break and smoked daintily. “I’m happier when I’m working,” she said. “I don’t have time to think to much that way.”

One thing to think about was a visit to her parent’s home in Palos Verdes Estates, an hour’s drive away. (Her father was stationed in Korea, her mother and two younger sisters were at home.) Driving to the house one night in a heavy seaside fog, she became quieter and quieter, her words less Anglo-Saxon. A passenger beside her remarked, as the car neared its destination, that the fog reminded him of snow. “You know what it looks like to me?” she said. “Vomit.”

Her mother – a pleasant, plump, dark-haired woman – turned Sharon’s face this way and that. “Have you had your blood count recently, honey? You look so pale to me.” What did she think of Sharon’s becoming a movie star? What did she think of Roman Polanski? “You know,” she said, in the voice of every middle-class American mother, “I don’t care – just as long as she’s happy.”

Back in Hollywood Sharon moved from hotel to hotel, from one friend’s home to another. She talked to Polanski by phone. (It embarrassed him to try to write letters in English because of his mistakes.) So many things were unresolved, shadowy. Ransohoff was sore at Polanski because Polanski had gone way over the budget on The Vampire Killers (“Very un-Hollywood of him,” a Filmways executive said; another only referred to him as “the little–.”); Polanski was mad at Ransohoff because Ransohoff was cutting away at his film and postponing its release in the States. (Ransohoff had also had difficulties with Tony Richardson, the English director, over the budget and the cutting of The Loved One.) “The thing is,” said Sharon, “that Roman is an artist.”

At night Sharon went to The Daisy, a private discotheque in Beverly Hills. She wore an aviator’s leather jacket, slacks, and tinted Ben Franklin glasses. Seated near the dance floor, she silently watched young actresses her age go through their gyrations. Suzanne Pleshette and Patty Duke did subdued turns; Linda Ann Evans, in a miniskirt, did a much more spirited fling. Carolyn Jones, who only yesterday had played the ingénue, now looked like a chaperone. Sharon gave Linda Ann Evans the once over and said, “I’ve worn a much shorter mini in London. That’s nothing.”

From another table a slim, bronzed young man with a pampered black hair ambled confidently past Tina Sinatra, Patty Duke, Suzanne Pleshette – and hovered over this strange blond beauty in an aviator’s leather jacket. He had the air of a football star in a small town high school, who was used to having his pick. He showed his beautiful white teeth and said, “Let’s dance.”

“No,” she said, “let’s not.”

He kept the smile on his face as he backed away. He was now another who had tried to bring Sharon Tate into a private fantasy – but he didn’t know that she had passed his type long ago.

She was going to fly to London and get engaged to Roman Polanski. Then she was going to fly back to star in Valley of the Dolls. Ransohoff was lending her to 20th Century-Fox to play a sexy bombshell who goes to Europe to star in nudie movies and who bewitches the world with her improbable lushness.

#sharontate #sharon tate #sixties #1960s #vintage #hollywood #old hollywood #1967 #sexy little me #john bowers #saturday evening post #article #cinema #fearless vampire killers #valley of the dolls #don't make waves #roman polanski #paul tate #fort macarthur

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wolfpants · 2 years

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[anon] helloooo!! So, I would like to know!! 1. What’s your fav method of travel? 2. Do you save cards people give you? 3a. Do you know what aspic as and if so, 3b. Do you like it? (That last question brought to by the passionate discussion about aspic my husband and I had last night!) pls and thank youuuuu!!

Hello mysterious anon person!

Love these ones! x

I love to travel by train and in that sense, I am such an old man about it. I like to find a nice seat by the window on the most scenic side of the train so I can stare out at the fields/shore/hills (there's no better train journey than the train from Edinburgh - Manchester, through the Lakes) and contemplate existence and the beauty of the natural world.

I keep some cards. I keep my sister's Jul cards every year because it's tradition in Norway to send a family picture, and I keep cards from friends.

I had to google aspic to remind myself what it is. I haven't tried it before... but it looks like head cheese! Which is fairly common here in Scotland but I'm not a fan. Nope.

Ask game - ask me 3 things that you want to know about me! Anon or not <3

#ask #ask game

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widgenstain · 6 years

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i hope this doesnt sound creepy but what were your thoughts on submergence? I love reading movie reviews/rants about my faves (jamesy)

Lol, no,not creepy at all, I wanted write a few words after I saw it two weeks (?) agoanyway, but got distracted. I hope this doesn’t disappoint you though! Not so many positive opinions here!

(light spoilers under the cut)

The best word to sum up my feelings about this is“meh”. I expected the worst after reading some reviews but it wasn’tTHAT bad. It wasn’t good either though. I felt pretty vindicated in myassessment from January 2016 ; Submergence isn’t abook that translates well on screen. And they didn’t even try very hard. Boy, thatscript is bad…

Sceneslifted directly from the book that anyone with even the tiniest understandingof how good narratives work would have changed, or at least tried to make morefilmable. Instead we got this mess; long, clunky, scientific dialogue thatworks as a build-up in the book but needed to be cut short in the movie andmore importantly: focussed on the message and motives behind it! What does it mean to behuman, to live in certain social structures and how insignificant are we andthose social structures really in the big picture? You don’t have to explain the layers of the Ocean if you can’t get across how vast they really are and what that vastness is meant to symbolise!

Thedirection doesn’t clear anything up either. It’s so inconsistent in its levelsof subtlety. Especially in the parts that take place in France it needed to be waymore obvious; what attracts these two people to each other? THE importantquestion in a romance!

In the bookit’s intellectual understanding and fascination with the other person’sapproach to topics like love, death, religion etc.. I wasn’t kidding in my earlierpost when I said that in the book they aren’t really characters, but voices for differentworld views that somehow still see their similarities and learn from eachother. The whole thing is supported by their weirdly intertwining heritage andlife story; she’s a biracial cosmopolitan who explores the seas his ancestors sailed,before he became a spy in Africa, who’s deeply involved with Eastern Africanconflicts.

In the movie?Yeah, that first part doesn’t come across whatsoever. They try, but it’s fartoo subtle and the script doesn’t capture the differences/similarities at all. Theyprobably realised that, so they added a lot of sex scenes instead. I was veryworried for them but they’re actually fine.They’re notreally well-matched physically, James looks way older than Alicia (well, he is,widge) but they do have chemistry. Is it the chemistry the movie needs though? No,it’s not.

I totallycan see them as two people who met at a nice hotel on the Atlantic coast and thought“hey u cute!” “hey, u cute too, let’s have some really good sex since we’reboth people who are so good at sex.” And after the three days, they went their ways andmaybe thought of each other during a wank session or two.

It’s notthe chemistry of a couple where he thinks of her in the worst moments of his lifeand she in the most triumphant yet terrifying ones.

As for the intertwiningheritages? They actually wrote, shot, edited and left in a scene in which hetalks about her being such a “mongrel” of Swedish and Australian heritage. Noone in that whole process noticed the disconnect or the freaking white-washing!Wim Wenders deserves a few punches in the nuts for that.

As for theacting, yeah… I’m not a fan of Alicia, there I said it. I don’t subscribe tothe hate the Fassbender fans/haters/toxically obsessed creeps (who keeps upwith this these days?) throw at her but I sincerely do. not. understand. how shemade it as far as an actress as she has.

Still, she is ok in this, she showsmore than her usual three expressions and some actual emotions. That doesn’ttake away from the fact that she acts in scenes, not in movies. She’s onecharacter in one scene, another in the next. It - weirdly enough - works bestin the sex scenes where they allowed her to be an unusually tomboyish character,not the ultra-feminine seductress you’d expect in such context. She feels more or less natural and ok in them.

She’s farless believable as the career-driven and respected-by-her-peers scientist andit’s the absolute worst in the “phone” scenes. To be fair the script fucks herover in these as well, turning Danny, a stoic woman of science about to go onthe biggest adventure of her career, into a bawling teenage girl, who’s upsetthat the guy she had really good sex with doesn’t reply to her calls.

A betteractress than her would have struggled with that garbage too, but with her scene-actingit really feels like you’re watching someone completely different each time. Addthe gloomy goth girl rambling about suffocating in really inappropriate momentsand you’ve got your stitched together Frankenstein character.

James of course knows how to portray a coherent character, but he isn’tat the height of his game either in the beginning. He’s a bit stiff, the whole spy stuff is thankfully short because it feels like an artsy-fartsydirector trying and failing to do James Bond, and the scenes in captivity would have hit much harder if you’d gotten WHY he adores her so and whispers “OH DANNY” all so dramatically.

I mean, I get thatmovie!James is trying to hang on to his sanity as best as he can, but why think of that random girlhe had really good sex with in France? Why not his mother, his best friend or, ffs, his housekeeper in Nairobi he’s known for more than 3 days?! The film doesn’tget this across and it’s sad (I’m also convinced the editor hated them. Herflashbacks show him squinting unattractively and his flashbacks show her from areally unfortunate angle.)

However, hisacting is top notch in the pivotal scene when movie!James’ captors send him into thewater to shoot him. It starts out all dramatic but then he takes it and turnsit into this absolutely painful, human moment where he yanks the audience’sheart out and crushes it like he’s wont to do. Man is he good. From that on Ilike the movie.

The interactions with the doctor (helloooo Julian Bashir, didn’tknow you were in this!) are the best scenes in the book as well and they’reexcellent. Nothing is black and white, how different can the lessons differentpeople take from the same situations be, etc.? It’s great.

Except whenthe movie suddenly throws all subtlety overboard. There’s a scene where a womangets stoned and instead of focusing on the fucking amazing acting that goes on onJames’ and Alexander Siddig’s faces it has to ram the pointhome with the silliest effects. It’s such a waste of two excellent actors with an amazingly uncomfortable chemistry.

Still, the scenes with the extremists are awesome. Too short and I don’t think the movie audience really gets how intriguingReda Kateb’s character really is, but they’re part of a movie that could havebeen great. Pity that wasn’t the whole movie.

I was a bitconfused after Tiff last year where Wenders said that he changed the ending butI don’t think he really has? Both are open in ways, but not really. I liked theending in the book and I liked it in the movie, super kitschy lifetime movieshots of Danny aside.

Anotherpositive thing I noticed was the light. Whoever did that really understood whatto do with the beautiful people in front of the camera and how to tell thefreaking story. I swear, the light on her face as he leaves the hotel, in hisprison and in her sub does a far better job at connecting them and explainingthe motives than script and direction together! I hope that light person got paid a ridiculously high amount of money and gets to do more movies.The script person should find another day job though and Wenders should stick todocumentaries from now on.

In short:Meh. Not gonna buy the DVD but maybe will check it out another time when/if itcomes along on Netflix and see if my opinion changes.

#submergence #james mcavoy #reviews #more like rambling words #teehee #intowhiteness #we talked about this #rant rant rant #whitewashing

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missklou · 7 years

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Bts reaction {Wanting to break up because of his insecurities} Part 2/2 Maknae Line.

Part one HERE.

(for people that make gifs/gifsets, I absolutely adore your work, if you do not approve the use of your gifs please let me know and I’ll stop)

(Currently taking requests)

Request: Helloooo! I’m a bit overexcited but I’d love to read a reaction in which the members doubt themselves (about looks or characteristics or smth) and want to break up with their s/o because they feel like they aren’t enough (heavy angst oh boy) but with a happy ending in which their s/o reassures them and they kiss, hug etc… just fluff :) Not sure if you write angst but yeah that’d be great <3

Mini scenarios (not even that mini, I’m sorry I have a problem) with each member. If you like it, please check the masterlist for more

Warnings: Heavy angst.

Jungkook:

Jungkook criticised himself a lot.

You can see it in his eyes when he watches himself in MVs and interviews, the way he just seems so unpleased and serious always bugged you, but it was something Jungkook had to deal himself.

Being the golden maknae was hard but Jungkook owned his nickname. He took his job -and passion- very seriously and it was required a lot of you to get him to show his insecurities and let you help him with them.

Their comeback was approaching fast and Jungkook was not happy with his appearance at all. All tho you insisted that he looked beautiful and fresh, he often complained about “looking expressionless” or not having double eyelids, looking puffy. Every day it was a different excuse for his dissatisfaction and you were getting tired.

-Do you see it? -He points at himself in the last shot of the video. -Why can’t I get the choreography right like hyungs?

“Why can’t I look good like hyungs?”, “Why is hyung so good?”, “Woah hyungs look so awesome.”

You had enough of it.

They had been filming their mv for the past hours and all Jungkook did was talk poorly about himself, all the other boys had made mistakes too, they got lost too and had unperfect shots as well, why did Jungkook put himself down like that all the time?

-Ya stop! -You raise your voice at him when he looks disappointedly at his reflection in the mirror, he turns surprised, the boys exchange confused looks as well, you walk towards him and slap his muscular arm, he shrinks.

-Ah! What is it Y/n? -He looks hurt and you slap him again.

-Why do you keep insulting my boyfriend? -You yell, the staff around you chuckled at how cute you two looked together. -Ya! He’s the most beautiful, talented, amazing boyfriend in the world, why do you keep saying he isn’t? -You pout at him, he grins and you hit him again, he grabs your hands, laughing loudly.

-Stop beating me noona!!

-Then stop talking about yourself like that! Your eyes are the size of a plate, you don’t need double eyelids! Your arms look strong you muscle pig, your dance is perfect and that’s why you are at the front! -He nods in agreement, promising to stop putting himself down. -Damn it you look so hot! I thought I was going to pass out because of how amazing you are looking.

-Stop exaggerating! -Jungkook gives you his bunny smile, you widen your eyes.

-Do you take me for a liar punk? I thought I was going to have a heart attack! You could have killed me with this looks!

-Okay, okay, you are embarrassing me, you look like my mom. -He hugs you, tugging you to his chest.

-We all need Y/n’s in our lives, it’s like she’s his number one fan. -Hoseok laughs with the other members, crossed arms all looking at you.

-Damn right I am. -You say, shaking your head. -And I’m biased as hell, I must say! My boyfriend is the coolest!

(by jungkook-gifs)

Jimin:

Jimin constantly talked bad about himself.

If your boyfriend had one flaw, it would be his lack of self-appreciation. Of course, he praised himself a lot and talked about how handsome he is, but you could see it in his eyes that he meant it as a joke, and none of that was taken to heart.

There was nothing that you wanted more than to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he could see himself the way you see him.

You knew exactly when Jimin was upset. He was never good at hiding his feelings, and when there was something wrong he rather tell you right away, knowing you would find out sooner or later

You knew Jimin was jealous over your dance routine but he is a grown man and he would have to deal with jealousy since you two were in the entertainment business. The music wasn't even sexual, it was funny and colorful and your group happens to have a collaboration with a male group, which earned you a dance partner in the choreography.

Jimin didn't want to interfere with your job because he knew just how serious you were about it, instead, he tried to keep his worries to himself and maybe that was the cause of his breakdown.

You are in the dance room, trying to coordinate the steps with your partner. All though you are the main dancer of your group, some parts were choreographed by him and you are having a hard time getting them down since he has a different style than yours.

Jimin would often teach you dance steps and help you choreograph, it was hard learning with him because you were so distracted by your boyfriend's beauty and glow when dancing, even when he was just explaining it, you felt like in a daze. It was nothing like that with that boy, the steps were difficult and you paid attention only to your feet, which made you bump into each other so hard you end up on the floor.

You have to hold your bodies from the way you are laughing hysterically, he even tries to sit down and apologize but you are laughing so hard from the embarrassment that he ends up just lying on the floor next to you again, following your laughing.

He teases you about being clumsy for the rest of practice and you talk more than dance. When you get out of the dance room you find Jimin waiting in the hallway.

-Baby! Why are you here? -You only ask him because you thought he wouldn't have a day off until next week, but Jimin seems to understand it in another way.

-Why? Should I not come? You don't want me here? -His eyes are dark and tense, you stop on your feet, looking shocked at your dance partner and friend, he shrinks his shoulders and murmurs "I'll be leaving you alone" before running for his life.

-What is up Jimin? Why are you mad?

He only looks at you, eyes roaming your face as if he is looking for something.

-Let's break up.

You feel something inside you scream but you can't voice it, all you do is stare at him dumbfounded until he turns away and leaves.

It takes a lot of time to recompose.

By the time you were able to move again and go to your apartment Jimin is in the process of packing his things, you notice that he no longer looks angry, just seems that he cried on his way as well.

-Why? -You ask, standing in the door frame of your room, watching him throw his things into a bag. -Was it something I did? Or say? -He doesn't answer and that pisses you off. -I deserve to know why you are leaving me Jimin!

-Because! -He shouts, letting his bag drop to the floor, he looks so lost and small for a moment that you forget that he's angry, overwhelmed with how good he looks flushed. -You could have better!

You freeze at his words.

-You just... -He is lost in his thoughts, trying to get them all out at once. -I can never make you smile or laugh like that! I got there to see if I could take you home and you were laughing to brightly, so beautiful... -His voice starts to lower as he seems to lack strength. -I can't even concentrate on my dances thinking about you in that room with the man I can't ever be! -You are about to interrupt him but he's too fast. -He's tall, charming, shameless, he has abs, can teach you how to dance better than I have ever managed to do and can even make you laugh like that! -His eyes are filled up with tears now. -And here I am, a second-rate dancer, receiving comments that I don't show my abs anymore because I don't have any or that our relationship is fake because you are too pretty for me...

You cross the room in seconds and push Jimin to your bed, he loses his balance and sits, you put one leg on each side of him and sit on his lap.

-I can't even concentrate on what you are saying because of how good you look. -You tell him, your hands cup his face. -I can never learn when you teach me because I am always so stunned by the way you move your body Jimin.

His mouth opens but he can't say anything, his hands grab at your waist.

-No one can take me to another world like you do Jimin, no one. Seung Jun can get every fucking step right but he could never have the fire that you have in your eyes when you dance. You can't learn to have this kind of passion, you can't learn how to make people see your mind working while you move, only you can do it... It’s like being surrounded, it’s like you are everywhere and that is exactly what got us together, remember? -You kiss him once, then twice, having a hard time to pull away. -I saw you dancing, the way only you can do it and my heart went crazy Jimin. Do you remember how I chased you for a week? I couldn’t get over you!

He smiles, his eyes turning into crescent moons.

-Now let’s show these motherfuckers who doesn't have abs. -You take his shirt off, nails digging in his back the moment he pulls you closer to him, rubbing against his erection.

(by @mvssmedia)

Taehyung:

You and Taehyung had been trying to get pregnant for the past two years.

Even with all the failed attempts, Tae wouldn’t let you lose hope. One of the things he loved most in the world was kids and you wanted more than anything to see Taehyung as a father, the father of your child.

You tried everything but you still ended up in a clinic, trying to find out what was wrong and why you couldn’t have a healthy pregnancy.

Test results showed that you and Taehyung were perfectly normal.

For some reason, that drained the remnant will you had and left you completely discourage.

You started to get seriously sick. Depression dragged you into a dark hole where you couldn’t manage to eat, sleep or function the way you should, the fear that you might never be a mom or that the universe is playing you is heavy on your shoulders and what you didn’t realize is that it was hitting Taehyung as well.

Because he was so focused on supporting you, it passed unnoticed how troubled he also was, how seeing you so unmotivated upset him beyond limits. One day he got home and found you wrapped in blankets, crying your eyes out over a drama where the girl was telling the guy that she was pregnant; The scene was happy but you were so sad over the matter that you couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably.

Your boyfriend approached, he kneeled in front of you on the floor and petted your head.

-Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. -He whispers, his low voice hits you so hard your sobs get louder and more tears strain down your face.

-Tae...

-I’m sorry baby, I really am but... I can’t see you like this okay? I feel so bad to be doing this to you, we have to break up.

You sit up at the same time, shocked.

-I brought up that we should have kids. -His hands fall to his sides, he stares at the couch, too scared to meet your swollen eyes. -I promised you a beautiful and healthy child that I seem to be incapable of making. -Taehyung sounds so destroyed inside that you wonder why you didn’t notice it earlier, that he has been blaming it on himself. -And now you are like this because of me, because I couldn’t be a good husband, I’m not strong enough to take care of you and you deserve that. -His voice shakes like he’s too scared to say it. -You deserve someone that can give you all of your dreams and I know how much you want to be a mother...

You drag your body out of the couch and sit in your husband’s lap, hugging his waist and hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

-Don’t do this to me. -You ask him in a small voice, he hugs you back tightly, cheek pressing against your head. -Don’t hurt yourself Tae, you destroy me when you do that. -You close your eyes, overwhelmed with his perfume and warmth. -This is not our fault Taetae... You are right, I really want to be a mom but you want to be a dad just as bad, we are giving it our best. -You lean back to see his face with heart eyes. -We are going to do this because there is no reason for us not to succeed, we are going to have the most beautiful girl ever and she is going to grow strong and talented like her father. I don’t want to have children with anyone else Tae, it’s only you, and that is because you are the only one that can take care of me. -You go back to hugging him and he pulls you both to lay on the floor, your head rests on his chest where you can hear his heartbeat. -We are going to go through this together.

-We are. -He repeats, to make sure.

-I love you.

-I love you too jagi... But it is going to be a boy.

You laugh out loud before weakly slapping him in the arm.

(By @4cyphers)

(THIS IS SO SHORT IN COMPARISON TO PART 1 OMG I’M SORRY)

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Read an Exclusive Excerpt From Charlie Jane Anders’ YA Debut

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

We need hopeful, critical, and empathetic voices in speculative fiction now more than ever, and Charlie Jane Anders is one of the best. The io9 co-founder who has gone on to write Hugo-nominated speculative fiction novels All the Birds in the Sky and The City in the Middle of the Night, is coming out with her first young adult novel, and we couldn’t be more excited. The upcoming science fiction adventure is called Victories Greater Than Death, and it’s being billed as perfect for fans of Star Wars (us) and Doctor Who (also us). We’re honored to bring you an exclusive excerpt from the novel—but, first, the synopsis:

THE UNIVERSE IS CALLING—and time is running out. Tina has always known her destiny is outside the norm—after all, she is the human clone of the most brilliant alien commander in all the galaxies (even if the rest of the world is still deciding whether aliens exist). But she is tired of waiting for her life to begin. And then it does—and maybe Tina should have been more prepared. At least she has a crew around her that she can trust—and her best friend at her side. Now, they just have to save the world.

And now for the exclusive sneak peek…

I have a ball of starlight inside me. A globe, containing a billion bright pinpricks. It’s always been there, since I was a baby—but lately I’ve been chewing up the inside of my own mouth waiting for it to burst out of me. Sometimes I feel all these little suns whirling, like they’re getting ready to emerge from the hollow of my collarbone. My whole life has been leading up to this, and I can’t stand the waiting.

I’m dangling by my waist from the side of the highway bridge. All the blood rushes to my head as a sixteen-wheeler truck rushes past, so close that I can feel the air disturbance and smell the fumes. The bridge quivers, and so does my heart. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

“Anything?” asks Rachael Townsend, who’s holding my belt in her strong grip.

“Nothing,” I gasp.

“Maybe you’re not scared enough,” Rachael says.

“I’m definitely scared enough. This . . . isn’t working.”

Rachael helps me pull myself upward, back behind the rusted old railing. I collapse on the hot cement walkway, next to a graffiti tag with a picture of a snarling puma.

“Okay.” Rachael smiles, sitting cross-legged on the walkway with her eyes looking wide and extra green in the midday sun. She’s dressed like a fourth-grader, as usual, in corduroy overalls and a long-sleeved stripy shirt.

“So it’s not reacting to fear. Or adrenaline.”

“And we know it’s not triggered by anger,” I say, “or it would have activated when Lauren Bose put dirt in Zuleikha Marshall’s new shoes. For sure.”

“Is Lauren Bose still harassing Zuleikha Marshall? And the school is doing nothing?” Rachael shakes her head. “This is why I’m being homeschooled.”

“Yeah. And yeah, the administration is both-sidesing the hell out of it. Makes me want to scream.”

“Okay.” Rachael reaches into her backpack and pulls out a folder. “So I’ve personally seen your rescue beacon light up on three separate occasions, and you’ve told me about four other times.” She shows me a chart, with beautiful handwriting and amazing doodles showing different versions of me with a bright blue-tinged glow coming from my sternum. Because Rachael is the greatest artist of all time.

Each cartoon version of me is labeled with things like:

1. Tina about to go to junior prom with Rob Langford 2. Tina right after cops broke up our flashmob outside the slumlord offices 3. Tina finds out she flunked trig midterm

“I got a D on that trig test,” I protest. “I did not flunk!”

“So I don’t see a huge pattern,” Rachael says. “I mean, it’s supposed to turn on when you’re old enough for the aliens to come get you, right?”

“They’re taking their sweet time.” I drag myself to my feet. “My mom keeps saying it might not happen until I turn eighteen, or even twenty-one. She just doesn’t want me to leave. As if it would be better for me to just stay trapped here forever.”

Rachael stands up too, and we walk back toward her rust-colored old Dodge hatchback. She’s being quiet again, which . . . a lot of being friends with Rachael is learning to interpret her many flavors of silence.

Like, there’s the “I’m mad at you and you won’t find out why for a week” silence. Or the “I’m figuring something out in my own head” silence. The most common is the “I need to be alone” silence, because Rachael has major hermit tendencies. But this silence is none of those, I’m pretty sure.

We drive for a while, without even any music. I’m one-quarter wondering what’s up with Rachael, but three-quarters obsessing about my rescue beacon and why it won’t just spill all the stars already.

At last, when we’re stopped at an intersection near the upscale mall and the tech campus, Rachael glances my way and says, “I wish I could go too. When the aliens come to collect you. I wish I could come along.”

I just stare at her. I don’t even know what to say.

“I know, I know.” Rachael raises her hands from the steering wheel.

“It would be ridiculous, and I would be useless up there in space, and there would be creatures trying to kill us, and it’s your destiny, not mine. But still. I wish.”

I want to tell Rachael that she’ll have a way better life down here on Earth. She’ll go to art school, find a new boyfriend to replace that loser Sven, publish tons of comics, and win awards. She’ll have adventures that don’t involve things like an alien murder team trying to kill her. She has plenty of reasons to stay.

Unlike me. I don’t have any real friends at high school, since Rachael dropped out. And the only thing I have to look forward to here on Earth is more people talking down to me. More bullies and creepers at school. More feeling like a bottomless pit, crammed with garbage emotions.

When Rachael drops me at my house, I just say, “I wish you could come too.”

“Yeah.” She smiles and hands me the folder. “Here. You should have this. Maybe it’ll help.”

She drives away. While I stare at a painstakingly annotated chart full of cartoon Tinas—each one bursting with pure dazzling light.

A few hours later, Rachael and I are already chatting again:

Chat log, Aug 19: Trashstar [5:36 pm]: its gonna happen soon. i can tell. the beacon. it’s gonna light up. Inkflinger [5:36 pm]: thats what u said last spring. and last winter. and five other times. Trashstar [5:37 pm]: its different this time i swear Trashstar [5:37 pm]: my mom is doing that thing again where she just stares at nothing Inkflinger [5:38 pm]: oh man, i’m sorry Inkflinger [5:38 pm]: what do u really think will happen when it lights up???? [Trashstar is typing] [Trashstar is typing] [Trashstar is typing] Inkflinger [5:40 pm]: helloooo?! Trashstar [5:40 pm]: i dont know Trashstar [5:41 pm]: they didnt tell my mom much when they dropped me off Trashstar [5:41 pm]: just . . . alien baby. massive legacy. evil murder team. Inkflinger [5:41 pm]: i hope there’s a dragon that u get to ride on Trashstar [5:41 pm]: like my own personal dragon Inkflinger [5:41 pm]: ur personal dragon that u share with me Trashstar [5:42 pm]: i’m pretty sure there will be at least a suit of armor Trashstar [5:42 pm]: rocket boots!!!! Trashstar [5:42 pm]: my theory is i’m the heir to a space casino Inkflinger [5:42 pm]: u’ve had YEARS to think about this Inkflinger [5:42 pm]: and space casino is the best u’ve come up with???? Trashstar [5:42 pm]: or maybe a wizard school Inkflinger [5:43 pm]: its definitely either casino or wizard academy Trashstar [5:43 pm]: pretty sure i’ve narrowed it down to those 2 options yea

This beacon is a part of me, like my liver or kidneys. Except sometimes at night, a faint growl wakes me—and I feel like I have a pacemaker, or some other foreign object, jammed inside my chest. And then I remember that my body isn’t the same as literally everyone else’s.

I fill our electric teakettle, with the switch jammed in the “on” position. And then I lean all the way over the side of my bed, so the steam is hitting the exact spot where the beacon is located. Mostly, the steam gets up in my nostrils and makes me choke.

My mom hears the kettle squealing. “What are you doing in there?” She peels back the curtain that separates my “bedroom” from the rest of the apartment. “Stop messing around. This is ridiculous.”

“It likes the steam! I can feel it reacting.” I cough and sputter.

“It’s an interplanetary rescue beacon, not a pork bun.” My mom turns the kettle off.

“I’m just so sick of ‘almost.’” I flop back onto my bed and bury my face in my knees.

Lately, my mom spends her time either trying to hide her tears from me, or acting like I’m already gone. Last week, I caught her folding the same shirt for five minutes, just creasing and tucking over and over until it looked like a paper football. She’s started calling up friends she hasn’t seen in ages, signing herself up for adult education classes, working on ways to move on with her life without me. But then, she’ll blow off some social plan that she spent hours making, just so she can sit at home staring into a Public Radio mug full of Chablis. I want to comfort her, or reassure her, but I don’t know how.

For all we know, the people who left me on Earth as a baby are all gone, and there’ll be nobody to answer the beacon when it does come to life.

“You could just stay here on Earth and have an amazing life.” She stares at her refrigerator door, with all the old photos and the terrible artwork I did in fifth grade. “You’re already helping people down here,” she says with the full force of her midwestern Presbyterian earnestness. “All of the things that you do with the Lasagna Hats, everything you make happen . . . Nothing could ever make me prouder of you than I already am.”

“Yeah.” I stare at the floor. I don’t know what to say. My mom knows I want this, more than anything, even though it’s going to destroy her.

My mom sighs and drinks from her wine-mug. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure. Whatever.”

For once, we are actually looking at each other. Her red hair has wiry streaks of gray, and her eyes have new lines around them.

“When the beacon lights up, you have to run.” Her eyes blaze, out of nowhere, with an intensity I’ve almost never seen before. “Run as if armies were chasing you. Because I’ve told you, the moment your beacon activates, monsters from beyond our world will try to kill you. They won’t stop. Keep running, until you’re sure you’re being rescued for real. Promise me.”

I kind of shrug it off, but my mom grabs my wrist. So I say, “Yeah, yeah. Of course. I promise. Jeez.”

That night I wake up, and there’s someone next to my bed.

All I can see at first is a pair of coal-black eyes, glinting in the moonlight filtered through the branches of the yew tree outside my tiny window.

Then I make out his face. Pale, like a ghost. Grinning, like a serial killer.

Something lights up in his hands. I glimpse a shiny metal tube with four wings on all sides, and an opening, full of bottomless darkness, aimed right at me. Somehow I know this is a weapon.

He stands over me, huge as a mountain, blocking out everything else. Even if I had the strength to rise, I would still be a speck next to him.

“I take no pleasure from killing you.” The giant speaks in a low purr. “Satisfaction, certainly. And an adrenaline rush. And oh yes, a sense of vindication. Your death will probably give me closure. But still, I feel sad that it came to this.”

My skin is so cold, my hands are numb and my arms feel prickly. I can’t breathe.

“I want you to know that I feel nothing but pity for your miserable state.” The huge figure raises the gun to my head.

I scream until my throat hurts.

The gun hisses. I’m about to be burned down to nothing.

I’m so cold, I can’t stand this cold.

The word “miserable” rings in my ears as I scream and brace myself for death.

The next thing I know, my mom is shaking me and yelling my name. “Tina!”

My mom wraps my quilt tight around me. “Tina, are you okay? Talk to me.”

I still can’t breathe. “He was here,” I wheeze. “He was right here. He wasn’t even human. He was about to kill me.”

“Honey, it’s okay,” my mom says. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re here with me, it’s only human beings ’round these parts. I promise.”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

That sentence takes me several breaths to say, with all the shivering. The quilt (with squares containing famous women who fought against oppression) helps a little. So does my mom, whispering reassurances in my ear.

That wasn’t just a random hallucination, or a dream. It was a memory. A memory of the person I used to be. Whoever that was. Don’t ask how, but I just know this was a glimpse of her life. The rescue beacon whirs inside me.

“I’m glad you saw that,” my mom says, “because I keep trying to tell you. The moment that beacon activates, they’ll be coming. I only saw a glimpse, and that was enough to make my skin crawl.”

My stomach flutters. “Tell me again.”

My mom hesitates, then nods. “I had just failed another infertility treatment, and they showed up at my apartment. They had a baby, with skin the color of fresh-picked lavender, and big round eyes, and they said you were a clone of someone who had just died, someone important. They took some of my DNA and used it to make you look like my daughter, so I could watch you until they were ready to come get you. They showed me a hologram of the monsters that I needed to keep you hidden from, and it was like seeing an army sent by death itself.”

My mom leans on my quilted shoulder, like she’s about to start crying.

Then she takes a deep breath instead. “Let’s do something fun tomorrow. I have a day off. Worthington Garden Party?”

“Wow. What? Really? We haven’t played Worthington Garden Party in forever.”

The beacon goes back to sleep behind my breastbone.

“Oh! There’s that brand-new mall near the tech campus that we haven’t even been to yet. I can wear my church-lady hat!” My mom laughs, and rubs her hands together, and I can’t help smiling too.

But after she leaves, I close my eyes again, and I still see the pale giant leering at me. Raising that terrible gun. I feel frozen to the marrow, like I’ve waded neck-deep into a lake on the bleakest day of winter.

Worthington Garden Party is a game my mom and I invented, where we go through the mall looking at things we could never afford to buy, and we pretend that we’re planning a fancy garden party for the Worthingtons (who don’t exist, just in case it wasn’t already obvious).

My mom puts on her scariest hat, with the carnations and the pink ribbon, and I wear bright apricot capri pants. And we drive to the new shopping center, over on the rich side of town.

The kitchen store has this red-chrome machine that turns fresh fruit into a decorative fountain, and you can program it to spray a few different patterns. “I don’t know,” my mom says, in a very serious voice. “The Worthingtons are quite particular about their juice formations. We wouldn’t want to have a fruit salute that lacks proper parabolas.” My mom says the words “fruit salute” with a straight face.

“Yes, yes,” I say. “I mean, the Worthingtons. How many times have they said they prefer their papaya juice to really soar? So many times.”

My mom nods gravely. “Yes. The Worthingtons have strong opinions about properly aerodynamic papaya juice.” Over in the corner, the salesperson is hiding her giggles behind her hand.

This is the mom I’ve been missing lately. The one who decided that she and I would treat everything like a grand ridiculous adventure, the two of us against the universe. Even when we went camping and set fire to our tent, and got ourselves menaced by beavers. (They were really terrifying. I swear.)

“I always knew that you were going to be taken away from me,” my mom told me a while ago. “I thought about taking you off the grid, or trying to find people to train you in survival skills. But I decided it was better for you to have some good memories of your time as a human being. However long that lasts.”

We keep moving through the mall, along marble floors that are so shiny, I see a murky ghost of myself reflected in them. We gaze upon shiny shoes, in a riot of colors, that cost nearly a month’s rent. These kid-leather saddle shoes, with peacock feather heads all around the sides, might be just the thing to help the Worthingtons launch the season. “Mundane,” my mother proclaims, squinting at them. “Frightfully mundane.”

The only thing we actually buy is a basket of truffle fries, which we eat in the food court. They smell of rich oils and spices, but they taste like regular fries, just a little sweeter.

My mom chatters about the book club she keeps missing, and I let myself breathe. It’s okay. Only humans ’round these parts.

Then I look away for a second, and see the pale man, standing near the video game store. Watching us. His lip curls upward, and he pats the ugly gun attached to his dark tunic.

When I look again, a second later, the pale man is gone.

The next day at Clinton High, someone has posted a slut-shaming video about Samantha Kinnock, and it has a hundred likes already. Only thirty seconds long, just a close-up of Samantha’s ass in this pair of booty shorts that she decided to wear one weekend, with ugly messages popping up. I hear Lauren Bose and her other friends whisper about it in the hallway.

It never stops. The cycle just keeps going and going. People only feel like their footing is secure when they can step on someone else’s head.

Why would I even want to be human?

I step into Lauren’s path and the rage settles onto me, like armor.

“Leave Samantha alone.”

I get tunnel vision, and my nerves are jangling, and Lauren’s dimply smirk gets under my skin—and the beacon wakes up. Something to add to Rachael’s chart of cartoon Tinas.

This ball of light throbs and pounds against the wall of my chest like a trapped animal, pale glow showing through my hoodie. And I think, It’s happening, damn damn damn, I’ll finally be who I was meant to be.

One of Lauren’s friends, maybe Kayla, sticks out her foot, and trips me. I fall face-first onto the tile floor, hard enough to scrape my palms. Everyone is laughing and chattering and aiming their phones.

The beacon sputters.

All at once, I’m not picking myself up off the hallway of Clinton High. I’m raising myself, painfully, off an opaque black surface made out of glass, or plastic. The floor quakes under my hands and knees—and all around me is nothing but darkness, peppered with tiny lights.

Stars to my left, stars to my right, stars all around.

I’m standing on top of a spaceship, in deep space.

And my skin has turned purple. Not grape-soda purple, more like a pale, bluish purple that shimmers as it catches the starlight. I’m wearing a crimson suit, or some kind of uniform, with a river of lights on the left sleeve and a picture of a strange mask, like for an opera singer, on the right. My violet palms are cupped around a holographic message that I somehow know is telling me this spaceship is about to explode.

“You mustn’t blame yourself,” says a voice like the rustling of dead leaves in the wind. “You were always doomed to fail.” The giant from my bedroom turns his depthless black eyes toward me. He’s wearing a bloodred sash across his long dark tunic.

His face looks wrong, even besides the paleness and the big dark eye pools. I can’t figure it out at first, but then I realize: he’s too perfect. No flaws, no blemishes. The two sides of his face are exactly the same, like a mirror image. His dark hair is cropped short across his white scalp.

“Marrant, even if you kill me, that doesn’t mean I’ve failed,” I hear myself say. “There are victories greater than death. I might not live to see justice done, but I can see it coming. Also, that sash makes you look like a third-rate CrudePink singer.”

The giant—Marrant?—snarls and lunges forward, and his right hand holds the same weapon as in my vision from the other night. I’ve never even seen a regular gun up close, but at this range, I can tell this one will rip my entire body in half.

The darkness in Marrant’s eyes makes me feel tiny, weak, a speck of nothing.

Then reality comes crashing back. My skin is back to its usual shade of pale cream. I’m standing there in the hallway, trembling, and the bell is ringing, and I’m about to be late for class. My legs won’t budge, no matter how hard I try to make them.

Saturday morning, the sunlight invades my tiny curtained-off “bedroom” and wakes me from a clammy bad dream. Even awake, I keep remembering Marrant’s creepy voice—and I startle, as if I had more layers of nightmare to wake from.

My phone is jittering with all the gossip from Waymaker fandom and random updates about some Clinton High drama that I barely noticed in the midst of my Marrant obsession . . . and then there’s a message from Rachael on the Lasagna Hats server.

Monday Barker. It’s happening: disco party! Coming to pick you up at noon.

The Lasagna Hats started as a backchannel group for Waymaker players—until the game had one gross update too many, and then we started just chatting about whatever. And somehow it turned into a place to organize pranks and disruptions against all of the world’s scuzziest creeps.

I grab my backpack, dump out all my school stuff, and cram it full of noisemakers, glitter, and my mom’s old costume stuff. I’m already snapping out of my anxiety spiral.

The back seat of Rachael’s car is covered with art supplies and sketchpads, and I can tell at a glance that she’s leveled up since I last saw her works in progress. As soon as I get in her car, Rachael chatters to me about Monday Barker—that online “personality” who says that girls are naturally bad at science and math, and women should never have gotten the vote.

Then Rachael trails off, because she can tell I’m only half listening.

“Okay,” she says. “What’s wrong with you?” I can barely find the words to tell her I’ve started having hallucinations about an alien serial killer.

The artwork on Rachael’s back seat includes a hand-colored drawing of a zebra wearing a ruffly collar and velvet jacket, raising a sword and riding a narwhal across the clouds. Somehow this image gives me the courage to explain about Marrant.

“Pretty sure these were actual memories from . . . before,” I say. “I think this means it’s going to light up soon.”

“That’s great.” Rachael glances at my face. “Wait. Why isn’t that great?”

“It is. Except . . . I’ve been waiting and dreaming for so long, and now it’s suddenly a real thing. And . . . what if there’s nothing out there but the evil murder team? What if all the friendly aliens are dead? Or don’t bother to show up?”

“Huh.” She drives onto the highway and merges into traffic without slowing down. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

I close my eyes, and remember that oily voice: You were always doomed to fail.

“Maybe I can’t do this.” I suck in a deep breath through my teeth. “Maybe I’m just out of my league and I’m going to die. Maybe I’m just not strong enough.”

Rachael glances at me again, and shrugs. “Maybe,” is all she says.

She doesn’t talk again for ages. I think this is the “working something out in her own head” silence.

We make a pit stop at a convenience store, and Rachael pauses in the parking lot. “Remember when you decked Walter Gough for calling me an orca in a smock?” (It wasn’t a smock, it was a nice chemise from Torrid, and Walter deserved worse.) “Remember the great lunch lady war, and that Frito pie costume you wore?”

I nod.

“The entire time I’ve known you, people have kept telling you to stop being such an obnoxious pain in the butt,” Rachael says with a gleam in her eye. “But here you are, preparing to put on a ridiculous costume and prank Monday Barker. This is who you are. So . . . if some alien murder team shows up to test you, I feel sorry for them.”

Rachael smiles at me. Everything suddenly feels extremely heavy and lighter than air, at the same time.

“Oh my god,” I say. “Can I hug you? I know you don’t always like to be touched, but—”

Rachael nods, and I pull her into a bear hug. She smells of fancy soap and acetone, and her arms wrap around me super gently.

Then she lets go of me, and I let go too, and we go to buy some extra-spicy chips and ultra-caffeinated sodas, the perfect fuel for confronting asshattery (ass-millinery?). I keep thinking of what Rachael just said, and a sugar rush spreads throughout my whole body.

I feel like I almost forgot something massively important, but then my best friend was there to remind me.

Monday Barker is scheduled to speak at the Lions Club in Islington, and we’re setting up at the park across the street. Bette and Turtle have a glitter mist machine and a big disco ball, and a dozen other people, mostly my age, have brought sparkly decorations. I wander around helping people to figure out the best place to set up, since this “disco party” was sort of my idea.

“We got this,” says Turtle, buttoning their white suit jacket over a red shirt. “Why don’t you get yourself ready?” They’ve put pink streaks into their hair-swoosh.

In other words, Stop trying to micromanage everyone. Message received.

I retreat to Rachael’s car, where I rummage in my knapsack and put on a bright red spangly tuxedo shirt and a big fluffy pink skirt I stole from my mom, plus shoes covered with sequins.

Rachael sets to work finishing some signs she was making, which are full of rainbows and stars and shiny Day-Glo paint. I pull out the tubes of glitter-goop I brought with me, and she lets me spread some around the edges using a popsicle stick.

I coax Rachael into telling me about the comic she’s working on right now. “It’s about a group of animals living on a boat. They thought they were getting on Noah’s Ark, but the guy they thought was Noah skipped out on them, and now they’re just stuck on a boat in the middle of the ocean alone. There’s a pair of giraffes, and a poly triad of walruses. They have to teach themselves to sail, and maybe they’re going to become pirates who only steal fresh produce. Once I have enough of it, I might put it online.”

“Hell yeah,” I say. “The world deserves to learn how excellent you are.”

She just nods and keeps adding more sparkle.

I wish the bullies hadn’t driven Rachael away from school. She just made too easy a target for ass-millinery: her parents are nudists, she’s a super-introvert who sometimes talks to herself when she gets stressed, and she wears loose rayon clothing to hide all her curves.

The rich kids, whose parents worked at the tech campus, took her picture and used filters to make her look like an actual dog. Kids “accidentally” tripped her up as she walked into school, or shoved her in the girls’ room. One time, someone dumped a can of coffee grounds from the teacher’s lounge on her head. I tried to protect her, but I couldn’t be there all the time.

So . . . homeschooling. And me never seeing Rachael during the week anymore.

Soon there are about twenty of us across the street from the Lions Club, everybody feeding off everyone else’s energy and hoisting Rachael’s glorious awning. And a pro–Monday Barker crowd is already gathered across the street, on the front walk of this old one-story brick meeting hall with flaking paint on its wooden sign.

A town car pulls up, and Monday Barker gets out, flanked by two beefy men in dark suits holding walkie-talkies. Monday Barker is about my mom’s age, with sideburns enclosing his round face, and a huge crown of upswept hair. He waves in a robotic motion, and his fans scream and freak out.

Someone on our side fires up a big speaker on wheels, playing old disco music. The handful of cops between us and the Lions Club tense up, but we’re not trying to start anything. We’re just having an impromptu dance party.

The brick wall of the savings and trust bank seems to shiver. I catch a glimpse of Marrant, the giant with the scary-perfect face and the sneering thin lips, staring at me.

But I remember what I said to him in that vision: There are victories greater than death. I can see justice coming. And then I think about Rachael saying, If an alien murder team shows up, I feel sorry for them.

The throbbing grows stronger . . . but Marrant is gone. The brick wall is just a wall again.

The Monday Barker fans—mostly white boys with bad hair—are chanting something, but I can’t hear them over our music. Rachael and I look at each other and whoop. Someone starts the whole crowd singing along with that song about how we are family. I know, I know. But I get kind of choked up.

We keep on, chanting disco lyrics and holding hands, until Monday Barker’s supporters vanish inside the Lions Club to listen to their idol explain why girls shouldn’t learn to read. Out here, on the disco side of the line, we all start high-fiving each other and jumping up and down.

Afterward, we all head to the 23-Hour Coffee Bomb. Turtle, Bette, and the others all go inside the coffee place, but I pause out in the parking lot, with its scenic view of the wind-beaten sign for the Little Darlings strip club. Rachael sees me and hangs back too.

“I started to get another one of those hallucinations.” I look down at the white gravel. “During the disco party. Snow-white serial killer, staring me down. And this time . . . I faced it. I didn’t get scared. And I could feel the star ball respond to that, like it was powering up.”

“Hmm.” Rachael turns away from the door and looks at me. “Maybe that’s the key. That’s how you get the rescue beacon to switch on.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. Makes total sense. When you can confront that scary vision of your past life or whatever, then it proves you’re ready.” She comes closer and reaches out with one hand. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“What, now?”

“Yeah. I want to be here to see this.” She grins.

I swallow and shiver for a moment, then I clasp her hand and concentrate. Probably better to do this before I lose my nerve, right?

I remember Marrant and his bottomless dark eyes, and the exploding spaceship, and that curdled blob of helplessness inside me. And I catch sight of him again, striding across the road with his death-cannon raised. The icy feeling grows from my core outward, and I clench my free hand into a fist.

Then . . . I start to shake. I can actually see the dark tendrils gathering inside that gun barrel. Pure concentrated death. My heart pounds so loud I can’t even think straight. I couldn’t even help Rachael feel safe at Clinton High. How could I possibly be ready to face Marrant?

“I can’t,” I choke out. “I can’t. I . . . I just can’t.”

“Okay,” Rachael says. “Doesn’t have to be today, right? But I know you got this. Just think of disco and glitter and the look in Monday Barker’s eyes when he tried so damn hard not to notice us in all our finery.”

She squeezes my hand tighter. I look down at the ridiculous skirt I’m still wearing. And I focus on the person I am in those visions—the person who can see justice coming, even on the brink of death. That’s who I’ve always wanted to be.

I’m ready. I know I can do this.

I growl in my throat, and feel a sympathetic thrumming from the top of my rib cage.

The parking lot and the strip-club billboard melt away, and I’m once again standing on top of a spaceship, and my free hand is cupped around a warning that we’re about to blow up. The stars whirl around so fast that I get dizzy, and Marrant is aiming his weapon at point-blank range.

But I can still feel Rachael’s hand wrapped around mine.

I gather myself together, step forward, and smile.

I can’t see what happens next, because a white light floods my eyes, so bright it burns.

Rachael squeezes my hand tighter and says, “Holy bloody hell.”

A million stars flow out of me, inside a globe the size of a tennis ball. I can only stand to look at them through my fingers, all of these red and blue and yellow lights whirling around, with clouds of gas and comets and pulsars.

Way more stars than I’ve ever seen in the sky.

All of my senses feel extra sharp: the burnt-tire smell of the coffee, the whoosh of traffic going past, the jangle of classic rock from inside the café, the tiny rocks under my feet.

Everybody inside the coffee shop is staring and yelling. I catch Turtle’s eye, and they look freaked out. Rachael has her phone out and is taking as many pictures as she can.

As soon as the ball leaves my body, it gets bigger, until I can see more of the individual stars. So many tiny hearts of light, I can’t even count. The sphere expands until I’m surrounded. Stars overhead, stars underfoot. This parking lot has become a planetarium.

I can’t help laughing, yelling, swirling my hands through the star-trails. Feels like I’ve been waiting forever to bathe in this stardust.

Used with permission from Tor Teen, an imprint of Tom Doherty Associates; a trade division of Macmillan Publishers. Copyright Charlie Jane Anders 2021.

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Victories Greater Than Death will hit bookshelves on April 14th, 2021. You can find out more about Victories Greater Than Death, including how to pre-order, here.

As a kid, all I wanted was for aliens to show up and take me away from this planet. So I put that dream into a new YA book, #VictoriesGreaterThanDeath. Now there's a brand new pre-order page, with links to all the places! Pre-ordering is awesomely heroic!https://t.co/K9v5vUsiSV

— Charlie Jane Anders *Victories Greater than Death* (@charliejane) November 18, 2020

The post Read an Exclusive Excerpt From Charlie Jane Anders’ YA Debut appeared first on Den of Geek.

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musicalpatd · 7 years

Text

Show You How to Love: Part 1

Plot: You’re Pippa’s understudy when you realize that you like her as more than just a friend.

Warnings: None I think? If there is one, let me know.

Tags: @imagineham

Author’s note: SURPRISE!!!

Lin was a good friend in high school, and you had recently got back in touch with him. He explained his latest project that he was working on: a musical about a founding father named Alexander Hamilton. Naturally, you thought he was crazy at first, but when he showed you a small portion of one of the songs, you knew he had something special.

“You know, you’d be a perfect Eliza,” Lin said during one of your phone conversations, “Why not audition to be her?”

You replied, “Because I don’t have a musical bone in my body, Lin, You should know this by now. We did go to high school together, after all. I can’t sing or act and you know that for a fact”

“Says the girl who chose flipping Chorus and Drama as her high school electives.” He retorts.

“Oh shut up, you actual child! I’ve got better ways to spend my Thursday than trying to have a conversation with a five year old. If you’ll finally stop bugging me, then fine, I’ll do it.” You joke.

“YAAAY! See you Saturday at 12 P.M. okay?” Lin cheers.

“Saturday at 12 it is.” You reply.

Saturday could not come any slower.

As you step into the building, you notice the people around you, and thought that there was absolutely no chance that you were getting this role. You saw so much talent around you, so many beautiful faces, all much prettier than yours (at least that was your personal opinion) and you were lost in thought until you heard someone call out “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? You’re up!”

As you step into the room, you see three people: Lin, Alex Lacamoire, another old high school friend, and a tall, mysterious man you didn’t recognize.

“Alright, so I assume your familiar with the audition process, correct?” Spoke the man.

“Correct.” You answered.

“Perfect. Let’s begin, then.”

They proceed to check your range, listen to you sing a song of your choice, and preform a very small bit from the show. During this, Lin and Alex were taking notes non stop.

“Ok, wonderful. That’s all we need. You’re free to go, have a great day!” Said Alex.

“Same to you!” You said with all the positivity you could muster before leaving.

A few weeks later, you get an email, and while crossing your fingers, and wishing with all your heart, you opened it.

You were the official understudy for the role of Eliza Schuyler Hamilton.

You called Lin and started rambling on and on about how excited you were.

“I know, I know!! I would have given you the role in a heartbeat, but Alex said that it’d be too easy to cast you as Eliza since I already knew you, so that’s why you’re the understudy.“ He explained.

“Oh! That makes sense!” You said.

“Hey, do you wanna grab some coffee? I could bring the person who you’re understudy-ing for with us so you can get to know her!” Lin suggested.

“Sounds great, I’m in! How about next Tuesday?” You asked.

A few minutes later, you got a text.

Lin: Pippa can come on Tuesday! Let’s meet up at that place we used to go all the time!

You: Does 3 work for you?

Lin: Works for me! See you then!

On Tuesday, you drove to this little shop selling ice cream and coffee that you and Lin came to frequently as high schoolers. You immediately recognized Lin standing outside, but not the woman standing next to him. She had beautiful black hair, the prettiest eyes you’d ever seen, and the most radiant smile in the world.

She was beautiful.

You hugged Lin, and shook Phillipa’s hand as she greeted you.

“Hi, I’m Phillipa, but you can call me Pippa!” She said.

Even her voice was lovely. No wonder she’d gotten the roll of Eliza.

“I’m (Y/N)! Nice to meet you!” You said

You went inside the shop, ate ice cream, drank coffee, and talked. It was one of the best days ever.

A few months had passed, and Hamilton was starting to become really popular, as you predicted, but there was one thing that you didn’t predict.

You had a massive crush on the one and only Phillipa Soo.

You had discovered that you were Bisexual a while ago, but this was your first crush on a girl. She was beautiful, caring and kind. So, so kind.

You loved her with all your heart, but you knew that she would never return the feeling in the same way. Everyone always made jokes about how you two were in love, but you knew it was impossible to be her girlfriend. She was probably straight, and even if she wasn’t, she’d never fall in love with someone like you. She was her, and you were, well, you.

Little did you know, she was thinking the same thing.

If Pippa was sick and you took her shift, she’d come to the theater when she felt better. Now, this had only happened twice, and both times she had never seen a kiss between you and Lin. This time, however, she did catch one, and when the show was over, she acted….. odd.

“I didn’t know you and Lin were a thing!” She said, with a bit of hostility in her voice.

“What? Who told you that? We’re not, Pippa. It’s a stage kiss…. you know, like the very same ones you do while playing the exact same role?” You said

“I know what I saw, (Y/N), and I’m really…. happy for you.” She huffed, now seething with rage.

“Are you….. jealous?” You asked.

“No, what kind of question is that? Of COURSE I’m not! What even is there to be jealous about?” Pippa retorted.

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, visibly hurt.

“You know what it means.” She said coldly.

Her words hurt you, confirming that she indeed would not and could not ever be in a relationship with you, or even be friends anymore.

“Well if that’s what you think… fine. I’ll just go.” You said shakily with tears in your eyes.

You ran far from the theater, so fast you didn’t even hear the last words Pippa would say to you in weeks.

“(Y/N), wait-”

You ran as far as your feet would carry you, not knowing where you were going, or what you’d do when you got there, until you saw it.

Renee’s house.

You knocked on the door repeatedly, until suddenly Jazzy opened the door. She stared at you until she finally called for Renee.

“Renee, you might wanna come here real quick.” Jazzy said.

Renee comes to the door, and as soon as she sees you, her eyes get as wide as saucers.

“Who the fu-” she began until Jazzy stopped her.

“Pippa.” You said simply.

They both gave you looks of confusion, until Renee was having absolutely none of it.

“Ok, very funny (Y/N), now come in so you can tell us what REALLY happened.”

They let you inside, and then you explained, conveniently leaving out the fact that you were in love.

“-and now she probably never wants to see me again.” You finished.

“So you really were serious.” Renee said.

“Of course she was. Do you think that she’d play that kind of prank on us?” Jazzy said.

“Yes” The three of you said, bursting into a fit of laughter.

“Don’t worry. No way am I letting some stage kiss ruin my OTP. I’ll talk to her about it, and you guys will kiss, make up, get married, fly off into the sunset on Pippa’s magic flying pegasus, and live happily ever after. The end.” Renee joked.

She was one of the main people who joked about you and Pippa. A lot.

After the fight, Pippa tried desperately to get advice. And she knew just where to get it.

“Lin! Helloooo! Open up!” Pippa screeched.

Lin opened his dressing room door, and let Pippa in.

“Lin. Help me. Please.” Pippa begged.

“With what?” Lin asked.

Pippa began to explain

“-And now she probably never wants to see me again.” She finished.

“Pippa.” Lin said.

“Yes?” She replied.

“You dun goofed.” Lin told Pippa.

“I know. How do I fix it?” She asked.

“Don’t worry. No way am I letting some stage kiss ruin my OTP. I’ll talk to her about it, and you guys will kiss, make up, get married, fly off into the sunset on your magic flying pegasus, and live happily ever after. The end.” Lin said.

Renee joked about you and Pippa with you, and Lin joked about you and Pippa with Pippa.

For weeks you avoided each other, Pippa was getting extremely upset by the lack of you in her life, so one Wednesday she found you, and before you could avoid her, she ran to you and gave you a big hug.

“I am so sorry you literally have no idea it’s been slowly killing me ever since it happened and I’m just so sorr-” Pippa rambled.

“Pippa. It’s ok. I forgive you.” You said.

“I imagine Renee told you what comes next?” Pippa asked.

“Yep. I’m positive Lin told you, so there’s only one thing left to do.” You said.

“Kiss, make up, get married, fly off into the sunset on your/my magic flying pegasus, and live happily ever after. The end.” You both said, laughing.

“Friends?” You asked.

“Friends.” Pippa replied, hugging you.

Everything went back to normal, and you two were once again inseparable.

And then the sleepover happened.

#Amaya writes

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