#so now they’re starting to clash and it’s just bizarre | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amirikdraws · 3 months

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♡ Our Life: More than a Game ♡

~~Step 1~~

Chapter 1: A New Beginnings & Always

The aroma of a freshly cooked breakfast hadn't graced my senses in quite some time. As I stirred from slumber, my eyes still shut, the delightful scent enveloped me, permeating my senses.

"Jamie probably came over to cook for me," I mumbled to myself. It had been a while since I'd spoken with her, so it would be rather nice to catch up. Maybe she could help me with my upcoming assignment.

With that thought, I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see my familiar surroundings. Instead, I found myself staring at an unfamiliar wooden floor. There were toys scattered around my room and drawing on the walls. My bed looked to be one for a toddler. As I stood up, a strange sensation washed over me – I was much closer to the ground than I should have been.

My heart raced, and a startled cry involuntarily escaped my lips as I stared ahead, confronted by an overwhelming sense of disbelief and dread. Before me stood a full-length mirror, and my reflection displayed my childhood self, free from the heavy bags under my eyes. My hair was fashioned into two ponytails, a stark contrast to my actual child self. The surreal transformation left me utterly speechless.

Before I could fully process this bizarre transformation, my bedroom door burst open, revealing a young girl with vibrant orange hair. Her dress reached her knees as sunflowers and sunflower seeds could be seen on it. She seemed oddly familiar, yet fundamentally different from anyone I'd known. The world around me had shifted in the blink of an eye.

She began to speak, her words carrying an innocence that clashed with my sense of confusion. "Mommy told me to come up here and ask if you were okay. Did you see a bug or something?" she inquired. Her name slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Lizzy?” My accidental utterance hung in the air. She looked exactly like my sister Elizabeth from my game, but here she was, in three dimensions, standing in my room.

“Ugh, all you have is a stupid, confused look on your face. If nothing’s wrong, then come downstairs for breakfast,” she remarked before shutting the door behind her. I could hear her hurried footsteps as she made her way downstairs.

I looked again at myself in the mirror and pinched myself a few times. I looked around the room and it even looked the same as the game. However, unlike the game's fixed perspective, I now beheld it from every angle, further emphasizing the inexplicable nature of the situation.

“I never expected that side of the room to look like that,” I thought as I saw the closet filled with clothes that I've never owned. But wait, am I actually? I decided to test my theory. I got dressed in what I thought to be appropriate and found my way downstairs. If this really is the game then Mom and Mommy should look the same as well. And that also means—

“I heard those new neighbors are moving in today, doesn’t that sound exciting!” I heard Mom’s voice say. Mom or Pamela, has light skin and brown hair that almost looks red in the light. She’s wearing her circle rimmed glasses and a long skirt every Mom would want to own.

“Sure does hun, I just hope they’re not like that mean old couple that can’t stand children. How could no one love our babies!” Mommy said that as she started hugging Lizzy. Mommy’s name was Noelani, I’ve always liked her dark skin and brown hair. Almost a contrast to Mom, she had on a purple sleeveless blouse with jeans. An exact 3D replica was what they all were.

“Ugghhh I get it Mommy! Now let go of me!” Lizzy cried as Mommy let her go of her bare hug. I saw Mom look at me and her face brightened up.

“Oh, I see someone’s finally awake, could you go put these plates on the table? Then I’ll be right over with the food!” She handed me a set of plates with forks and spoons.

“Y- yes ma’am!” I said to her, I may be confused by all shit as to what’s happening but I can’t disrespect my Mom’s orders. And I probably shouldn’t cuss as a kid…

“Thank you sweetie, we’re having just normal eggs, bacon and toast today.” She called from the kitchen. I could hear her in the fridge, probably grabbing drinks.

I started setting the kitchen and realized none of this is in the game. Looking around everything was the same, the floor to roof windows was most apparent. The whole area was just one big room but with different flooring to mark the difference. If I walked just two steps I’d be in the living room. It was surreal to see the ocean view by just looking out the window.

I could already tell, based on the important dialogue, that Cove should be moving in today. Which also means that after breakfast I should probably head outside and wait for Mr. Holden to talk to me.

Then again, I don’t actually have to follow the game. I could create an entirely new game where I never meet Cove Holden right now. The thought came and went in my head when breakfast was being put in front of me.

I couldn’t do that to Cove though I love him too much to never meet him, plus meeting him in person is all I’ve ever wanted. I also probably shouldn’t change important plot points in the game. Meeting Cove is the whole reason the game exists. I could end up screwing everything up if I mess with that.

As breakfast ended I decided to head outside and look at the amazing view that I always saw in the game. The beach. I can’t be in a game where the characters live next to the beach and not go see the beach! Running towards the back glass door I heard my Mom say my name.

“Amai, where do you think you’re going? You could at least ask before running off.” Right, I forgot I had caring parents.

“I wanted to go see the beach and hang out. At least before sunset, then I’ll just hang out at the front of the house to see who’s moving in!” I told her, worried my plan would get rejected.

“Ooh sounds fun, then yes you can go. Just don’t go too far!” I went up to her and kissed her on the cheek goodbye with an I love you. I’ve always wanted to show how much I loved them for being such amazing parents. Even though they weren’t actually my parents.

I ran down to the beach and instantly took off my socks and shoes. This may be California but the beach is a hundred times nicer than the real one. Then again Sunset Bird isn’t even a real town.

~~~

Being 8 years old brought back a rush of memories, along with the challenges I had forgotten. It was odd, but I had the same hairstyle I used in the game, which, I had to admit, was pretty nifty.

I decided to spend the day exploring, collecting seashells, and even attempting to build a sandcastle. While I wasn't entirely sure how to construct one, I gave it my best shot. As the sun inched closer to the horizon, a sense of urgency washed over me. I remembered that it was time for me to meet Mr. Holden. This was a pivotal Moment in the game, as it marked the beginning of my relationship with Cove, and it seemed like I was about to embark on a similar journey in this surreal new reality.

As I hurriedly scampered up the hill toward my house, a wave of exhaustion overcame me, likely a result of my miniature, childlike legs. Needing a break, I plopped down on the edge of the sidewalk just in front of my home, gasping for breath. Unbeknownst to me, Mr. Holden stood right before my eyes, a surprise encounter that left me Momentarily speechless.

“Hay, do you live around here? What’s your name?” He said to me, I would be much more weirded out by this if I was back in the real world. Mr. Holden was a tall tanned skin man with long ash golden hair. His hair was up in a pony-tail and he had his signature stingray tattoo on his arm. He definitely dresses like a man who swims in the ocean 24/7. My 18-year-old self has a huge crush on both of Cove’s parents. But sadly I’m 8.

I stammered, my childlike voice taking me by surprise, "Oh, um, hi there! I'm Amai Garson, and you're the new neighbor who just moved in across the street, right?" Despite my unease, I hoped that deviating slightly from the game's dialogue wouldn't disrupt the key points of the story. After all, memorizing every line seemed like an impossible task, even for a seasoned actor.

"Yeah, that's right! I have a boy named Cove who's about your age," Mr. Holden replied with a friendly smile. As he began to reach into his pocket, I made a swift decision to bolt away from what I anticipated was about to transpire.

“I’LL GO FIND HIM!” I yelled and ran off before I ever saw what was in his pocket. I know I literally just told myself that I shouldn’t change base things in the game but I can never handle the conversation I have with Cove when I tell him his father offered me money to be his friend. Everything should work out anyway. Right…?

~~~

Locating Cove was a straightforward task, as he was right behind my house. However, what proved to be difficult was witnessing his tears and hearing his sobs. After a Moment, his crying ceased, and he gazed out towards the ocean, lost in his thoughts. It was clear that he was deep in contemplation, wrestling with emotions that were difficult to fathom.

"Cove, are you okay?" I asked, though I was well aware that he wasn't. Cove, this teal-haired boy with thick red glasses and a pink cast around his left arm, was grappling with the painful reality of his parents' divorce. Being separated from his mother was clearly taking a toll on him.

“H-how do you know my name?” Sniffles could still be heard from him.

“I come from another world, like this one but in the future. You’re the main character in this video game I play.” I said, trying to lighten the mood with what to him was a joke. A small breath came from his nose.

“That’s a dumb joke.” He said monotone.

“Yeah it is… your dad told me to come find you.” I said. He didn’t really but I knew he was.

“D-don’t tell him we’re here! I don’t wanna go back to that house that’s not my home!” Tears started welling in his eyes again.

“I-I won’t, I just wanted to talk to you. There’s not many people my age around here…” I said to him, his body went back to how it was, still a bit stiff from the fact of me being a stranger.

“So I’m guessing this is your hill I’m sitting on, Miss. Future girl.”

“Well it kinda is, but it can be our hill. Amai and Cove’s Hill. Has a nice ring to it right Game Boy?” That got a chuckle out of him.

“Amai huh? I like Cove and Amai’s Hill better.”

“Fine, Cove and Amai’s Hill. What brought you to our hill anyway? Did your dad do something?” I looked at him and regretted what I said.

“What didn’t he do! First divorcing Mom and now moving here to this stupid house! I wanna go home, where my Mom is…” He was now crying and his voice got wavy with anger towards his father.

“W-well if he didn’t do that then we would’ve never met. And so far, I like Cove Holden, a lot. Even if you are a Game Boy.” He wiped away his tears and got out one last sniffle.

“What else do you know, Future Girl?” He asked me, to which I had the perfect answer.

“Well I know our parents are about to call us and be here.” He looked at me with a tilt to his head till he shot up when he heard his dad’s voice.

“COVE! Where are you!” Mr. Holden yelled in the distance and soon I could hear my parents' voices too.

“AMAI!” I heard my Moms’ voices.

“AMAI! Sweetie, it's time to come home!” Their yells got closer and all Cove could do was look at me with shock. I shrugged my shoulders and yelled out back to them.

“We’re over here Moms! Mr. Holden, I found your son!” I could see them at the top of the hill and they started coming down to meet us.

“There you are bud.” Mr. Holden went over to Cove as my Moms came after.

“Amai! You’re here after all. We looked at the park for Cove then figured you might be here.” My Mommy said as they both put me in a group hug.

“I was just talking to Cove,” I turned to him and smiled. “I hope we can have a lot of fun, and talk to each other about anything!” I said. He let out a small smile then looked away.

“Thanks for finding him Amai, I was gonna ask if you could’ve looked for him earlier but you beat me to it.” Cove looked at me shocked again when he heard his dad say that.

“Anytime Sir,” I turned to my Moms. ”Could Cove come over tomorrow for a playdate?” My Moms looked to me and then to Cove’s dad. Mr. Holden then answered the question my Moms only said with their eyes.

“I mean as long as Cove wants to go it’s alright with me.” Everyone looked to Cove after he said that.

“Y-yeah that’s okay I guess.” He said quietly.

#our life beginnings & always #our life

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my-weird-news · 10 months

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🔥 Culture Clash Explodes in Movie About Child Trafficking!

Right-Wing Blockbusters: Where Explosions Meet Ideology So, picture this: the culture war marches into the movies, but it’s not just your regular ol' conservative grumble about movies being too darn liberal. Nope, nowadays, conservative filmmakers are storming in with their own flicks, waving the flag of unexpected hits and a truckload of ideology. And guess what? They're rocking the cinematic stage, complete with moral panic, secret leftist conspiracies, and a good dash of feeling persecuted. Cue the spotlight on the latest sensation in this right-wing rollercoaster: Sound of Freedom. Starring none other than Jim Caviezel, this film does a little tap dance on the true-ish story of Tim Ballard, the man behind Operation Underground Railroad (OUR). With Elon Musk and Mel Gibson cheering from the sidelines, the movie squared off against Indiana Jones and his magical dial thingy. And get this: it reportedly out-earned Harrison Ford's adventure by a few million bucks. Not too shabby for the underdog indie, huh? But wait, the tale takes a turn towards the absurd. Left-wing folks start aiming their snark cannons at Sound of Freedom, not just for its QAnon-like vibes, but also at the way people are watching it. I mean, some of these viewers are acting like they're at a Top Gun reunion! Is this a movie or a patriotic pilgrimage? Oh, and if that isn’t enough, the film's financial backer gets slapped with a felony kidnapping charge. Yeah, that’s right. Welcome to Hollywood, where reality is wilder than any script. Now, let's talk about the hype machine. Sound of Freedom wasn’t born in Tinseltown but found its savior in Angel Studios, a Utah-based indie company that crowdfunded its way to cinematic glory. They even got Tony Robbins to throw in some dough. Talk about a fan club! The film's not just a movie; it's a patriotic duty, a divine obligation to watch it. And the fun doesn't stop there. Caviezel himself steps in at the end, rallying the troops to buy more tickets and make Sound of Freedom the Uncle Tom's Cabin of modern slavery. Move over, popcorn, it's time to save the world! But as we dive deeper, we hit some rocky waters. QAnon, anyone? The film's not explicitly endorsing it, but the vibes are... there. Caviezel's been dancing with QAnon rhetoric like it's the cha-cha. And guess what? He's even comparing QAnon skeptics to Nazi and Klan fans. Bravo, maestro! Critics, meanwhile, are caught in a circus. They’re getting hit with threats and bizarre theories, all while trying to figure out if the film's really about child trafficking or just a twisted game of telephone. But hold on to your hats, 'cause Sound of Freedom isn't just a movie—it’s also a battlefield. There's the struggle between the film’s earnest plea to save the kids and its shadowy connection to QAnon’s wacky world. Who knew a blockbuster could be so complicated? And speaking of battles, can we just have a regular movie night without sparking a political inferno? Can conservatives enjoy their popcorn and liberals their candy without it turning into a civilizational showdown? But wait, there’s more! The movie's not just a movie; it’s a full-course meal of conservative values. Rugged heroes, patriotic fervor, and a dash of conspiracy—you know, the whole shebang. It's like a cinematic pizza topped with political pepperoni. But let's cut to the chase. Is it really about saving the kids, or is it just another front in the political rumble? OUR might sound heroic, but in reality, it's got a rap sheet of dubious claims and murky motives. So, let's unravel this puzzle: Is Sound of Freedom a crusade against child trafficking, or just a tool for conservatives to stick it to their lefty foes? Who knows, maybe the real rescue mission is rescuing the movie from the clutches of conspiracy. But hey, don't let all the chaos kill the vibe. At its core, Sound of Freedom is just an action flick. Explosions, adrenaline, and a good ol' dose of Hollywood escapism—it's like Taken, with a side of culture war. So, can we enjoy a movie without unleashing a political storm? Can we gobble popcorn without swallowing a whole ideology? It’s a cinematic tug of war, and the only winners seem to be confusion and controversy. In the end, whether you're on the left or the right, one thing's for sure: the movies have become a battlefield where ideology and entertainment wage a never-ending war. So, grab your ticket and buckle up—it's gonna be a bumpy ride! 🍿🎬# Right-Wing Blockbusters: Where Explosions Meet Ideology So, picture this: the culture war marches into the movies, but it’s not just your regular ol' conservative grumble about movies being too darn liberal. Nope, nowadays, conservative filmmakers are storming in with their own flicks, waving the flag of unexpected hits and a truckload of ideology. And guess what? They're rocking the cinematic stage, complete with moral panic, secret leftist conspiracies, and a good dash of feeling persecuted. Cue the spotlight on the latest sensation in this right-wing rollercoaster: Sound of Freedom. Starring none other than Jim Caviezel, this film does a little tap dance on the true-ish story of Tim Ballard, the man behind Operation Underground Railroad (OUR). With Elon Musk and Mel Gibson cheering from the sidelines, the movie squared off against Indiana Jones and his magical dial thingy. And get this: it reportedly out-earned Harrison Ford's adventure by a few million bucks. Not too shabby for the underdog indie, huh? But wait, the tale takes a turn towards the absurd. Left-wing folks start aiming their snark cannons at Sound of Freedom, not just for its QAnon-like vibes, but also at the way people are watching it. I mean, some of these viewers are acting like they're at a Top Gun reunion! Is this a movie or a patriotic pilgrimage? Oh, and if that isn’t enough, the film's financial backer gets slapped with a felony kidnapping charge. Yeah, that’s right. Welcome to Hollywood, where reality is wilder than any script. Now, let's talk about the hype machine. Sound of Freedom wasn’t born in Tinseltown but found its savior in Angel Studios, a Utah-based indie company that crowdfunded its way to cinematic glory. They even got Tony Robbins to throw in some dough. Talk about a fan club! The film's not just a movie; it's a patriotic duty, a divine obligation to watch it. And the fun doesn't stop there. Caviezel himself steps in at the end, rallying the troops to buy more tickets and make Sound of Freedom the Uncle Tom's Cabin of modern slavery. Move over, popcorn, it's time to save the world! But as we dive deeper, we hit some rocky waters. QAnon, anyone? The film's not explicitly endorsing it, but the vibes are... there. Caviezel's been dancing with QAnon rhetoric like it's the cha-cha. And guess what? He's even comparing QAnon skeptics to Nazi and Klan fans. Bravo, maestro! Critics, meanwhile, are caught in a circus. They’re getting hit with threats and bizarre theories, all while trying to figure out if the film's really about child trafficking or just a twisted game of telephone. But hold on to your hats, 'cause Sound of Freedom isn't just a movie—it’s also a battlefield. There's the struggle between the film’s earnest plea to save the kids and its shadowy connection to QAnon’s wacky world. Who knew a blockbuster could be so complicated? And speaking of battles, can we just have a regular movie night without sparking a political inferno? Can conservatives enjoy their popcorn and liberals their candy without it turning into a civilizational showdown? But wait, there’s more! The movie's not just a movie; it’s a full-course meal of conservative values. Rugged heroes, patriotic fervor, and a dash of conspiracy—you know, the whole shebang. It's like a cinematic pizza topped with political pepperoni. But let's cut to the chase. Is it really about saving the kids, or is it just another front in the political rumble? OUR might sound heroic, but in reality, it's got a rap sheet of dubious claims and murky motives. So, let's unravel this puzzle: Is Sound of Freedom a crusade against child trafficking, or just a tool for conservatives to stick it to their lefty foes? Who knows, maybe the real rescue mission is rescuing the movie from the clutches of conspiracy. But hey, don't let all the chaos kill the vibe. At its core, Sound of Freedom is just an action flick. Explosions, adrenaline, and a good ol' dose of Hollywood escapism—it's like Taken, with a side of culture war. So, can we enjoy a movie without unleashing a political storm? Can we gobble popcorn without swallowing a whole ideology? It’s a cinematic tug of war, and the only winners seem to be confusion and controversy. In the end, whether you're on the left or the right, one thing's for sure: the movies have become a battlefield where ideology and entertainment wage a never-ending war. So, grab your ticket and buckle up—it's gonna be a bumpy ride! 🍿🎬 Read the full article

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slasherboyos · 3 years

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Different World | Chapter Nine

Word count: 3300+ (adsgf there is a reason for why I split chapter eight)

Date posted: August 6, 2021

Warning: Cursing

“Different World” masterlist: Link

Fanfic Playlist: Link

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Note: A nice chapter, but an important one! Also, there is some dialogue that seems incorrect, but it’s like that for a reason; just giving a heads up just in case! As always, feedback is appreciated!

Marko’s boots stomped down the dirt steps that led into the hotel. The plastic utensils in the Coca-Cola box of Chinese takeout were heard clashing with each other when he jumped down that final ledge.

“Feeding time,” He loudly called, announcing his return with dinner. “Come and get it!” You grumbled as you sat up; you were this close to falling asleep during this small pocket of calm, but, of course, proper sleep continued to elude you. That Walkman you have been thinking about buying was starting to become all the more enticing. In your tired state, you stayed put at the far left side of the couch as Marko distributed the food with a pair of chopsticks in his mouth. Dwayne sat on the other side with Laddie sitting between you two. You put your elbow on the armrest, resting your chin on your palm.

“Tired of me already,” Paul jested, gesturing to the empty spot beside him where you usually sat during meal times. You rolled your eyes and lazily stuck your middle finger at him with the same hand that held your head. David placed himself in his shirt-covered wheelchair.

“I’m not getting up,” you flippantly grumbled, leaning in further into the armrest. Your strained eyes watered as you yawned.

“Your grace, the finest of meals,” Marko chirped. You gave Marko a sleepy amused look at his exaggerated bow and horrible attempt at a posh British accent as he handed you a carton with a pair of chopsticks. You propped yourself up and leaned comfortably against the backrest, bringing your legs up to lay on their sides. You opened the flaps, stomach tightened from hunger, mildly excited to see what he brought you. He, indeed, did know what you liked. You offered some to Star, which she declined as per usual, before you dug in, starved without the help of your usual early-evening snack.

David offered some food, a carton of rice, to Michael, which was refused at first. However, through the power of peer pressure, Michael accepted the carton and a clear, plastic fork. While you may not have approved David’s methods, you were glad to see Michael eating something. You chewed your food and swallowed it. You closed your eyes in complete bliss, finally being able to get your food intake for the night. There was a chance that Laddie may not finish all of his food, so you silently plotted to take it when he was full. It would be a pity for that delicious takeout to go to waste, after all. Plus, it would help decrease the amount of food waste amongst you.

“How are those maggots,” David asked quickly and nonchalantly, which had a very casual tone compared to the substance of his question. The boys laughed and you groaned. You leaned back against the backrest, watching, knowing the direction that this was taking. Of course, they were not going to let Michael enjoy his first meal with them without a little bit of hazing.

“What,” Michael inquired, not comprehending the bizarre statement he heard.

“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots. How do they taste?” Paul had no shame in continuing to chuckle. You hid your growing smile behind your hand. Given the countless times that David had pulled this trick on you, it was strange seeing him do it to someone else.

Michael gave David an incredulous smile before looking down to come face to face with a carton of what you could assume were squirming maggots in his eyes. Almost immediately, Michael dropped the carton and spit out the rice in his mouth and the cave erupted in howling laughter. Even David was almost doubling over with how hard he was laughing. You, much to your shame, also quietly chuckled, trying to stay quiet as if you were not finding this a little entertaining. He was so unsuspecting unlike you. While you knew from the start that they were vampires—though, you did not realize their mind-based abilities at first—Michael was oblivious, so he did not catch on as quickly as you did. Well, he did not catch on at all.

Star did not find this heckling as enjoyable.

“Leave him alone,” she begged, unhappy with the boys’ treatment of Michael, not that anyone listened to what she had to say. Michael realized that the rice was not a pile of maggots, but just plain old white rice. He looked up before looking back down at the mess, really trying to process that it was just rice.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” David gave an empty apology and you rolled your eyes. “No hard feelings, huh?” Michael swallowed his pride and answered,

“No.” Wow, this guy really wants to get on David’s good side. Michael was, at least, tame enough to take it in stride, unlike you. While his initial reaction was worse than yours, at least he did not immediately yell out profanities. David stuck his chopsticks in his noodles.

“Why don’t you try some noodles?” The boys started laughing again. You waited patiently to see what trick David was pulling out of his sleeve.

“They’re worms,” Michael deadpanned and you exhaled. They had an obsession with squirmy bugs, it seemed.

“What do you mean they’re worms?” David dug through the carton, playing dumb to Michael’s concerns.

“You’re still doing this,” you uttered. You sighed, “the joke’s over, guys!” Michael tried to warn him to not eat the so-called worms, but David used the chopsticks to shove more noodles in his mouth. He chewed on them obnoxiously before grinning, content with how he got under Michael’s skin.

“They’re only noodles, Michael.” Michael snatched the carton and looked through it, only to find just noodles. He must have thought he was losing his mind! To your surprise, he did not ask any questions and took it all at face value. You were a little worried about how easily he was absorbing this.

“You’re an ass, David.” He ignored your insult, which was probably in your best interest.

“Nice worms,” Dwayne mocked amongst the snickering. You reached over Laddie and swatted Dwayne’s chest with the back of your right hand, which he hissed at, though he was not in any pain from your back-handed attack. “(Y/N) is being mean again,” he tattled on you to nobody in particular. You raised your hands, physically expressing your annoyance.

“Are you tattling on—what are you, a child?”

“That’s enough,” Star asserted, which Paul responded to with,

“Aw, chill out, girl,” While Star had not liked this from the start, you were drawing the line here. While the prank was harmless, they did not need to be ridiculing Michael this much.

And you were not a fan of Paul brushing Star off like that.

You picked a small pebble and aimed for him, landing on his neck. “Hey,” he whined, but you could not care less about it.

“You’re all a bunch of asswipes!” You complained, swallowing what you had been chewing. “I am so sorry, Michael.” Michael appreciated your apology, though he was still embarrassed and very confused by what just happened. “They did the same thing to me, you know. Made me think I was eating caterpillars instead of french fries. And then Paul ate the fries that I dropped.” You threw your head back to get more food in your mouth as Paul chuckled, still clearly proud of himself for getting that reaction out of you when he had picked up the soiled french fry and popped it in his mouth. “They still pull shit like this with me all the time.”

Your gaze had drifted to Paul, who had his hand in the carton. Your warm smile—which appeared from reminiscing—dropped and your expression morphed into a disgusted one. You knew for sure that he did not wash his hands before deciding to use one as an eating utensil. With a disappointed sigh, you pinched between your eyebrows, exasperated, and expressed,

“Are you kidding—are you eating Chinese takeout with your bare hands?” He put the carton to his mouth as if he was drinking out of a cup.

“Why am I in trouble?” He spoke with a mouth full of fried rice and gestured to Dwayne, who was sitting beside you. Dwayne, now the one being put on the spot, froze, caught red-handed with his hand in his carton, and picked up some noodles. You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your brow. How you did not notice that happening right beside you was a mystery.

“Really? I expected this from Paul—”

“This is bullying!”

“—but not you!” As if to spite you, Dwayne picked up some of his noodles and shoved it into his mouth with a cheeky smile. “Marko is using a pair of chopsticks! Marko! And he’s...” You vaguely gestured to him. “Marko!”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Marko yapped. You pointed at him accusingly.

“You know exactly what that means.” You were alluding to how much of an instinctual person he was. You were surprised with how he did not immediately stick his hand in his food without taking off his gloves when he opened his carton. “Michael, you know what he did the first night I was here?” Michael shook his head, almost smiling at the sight of you putting them in their place. “He threw a pigeon at me. A pigeon!” Everyone, including you, laughed at the fond memory, Marko being the loudest as he caught himself by putting a hand on his knee. When David calmed down, recalling the shocked expression you had when the bird was tossed at the back of your skull, he gave you a seemingly genuine smile. Seemingly.

You intentionally tried to make him feel more comfortable with your story of the pigeon attack. There was a part of you that did not like how he was to become a vampire against his will. While you could not do anything to change that, you could at least be a friend and hold out an olive branch.

Besides Star, Michael noticed how you were showing legitimate consideration towards him while the boys were messing with him with no restraints. You, while taking part in all of this heckling, had the decency to apologize and had your limits. He was still intimidated by your presence but realized that you may not be as menacing as you may appear. In contrast to your piercing stare, your smile lit up the room and you were a fun person to be around.

Of course, he was unaware as to just how doomed to stay with this group of misfits he was. He may have to deal with this taunting for the rest of eternity.

You picked up another pebble. It hit Marko's left temple and somehow landed in his food.

“Get fucked, pigeon-thrower,” you slandered.

“Ow! Dwayne’s right, you are bein’ a bitch!”

“Oh, you’ll get over it.” You picked up a third small rock and leaned forward to get a clearer shot. You harshly threw it onto Dwayne's bare chest.

“What was that for,” he complained, mouth full of noodles.

“Talkin’ shit about me.”

“I never called you a bitch!” Okay, maybe it was fun just being a general nuisance towards them, but that was not going to be something you said out loud. To keep things even between them all, you picked up one more for David. As you aimed, he put up a finger to make you pause.

“Do you really want to do that,” he challenged. Unluckily for him, you found entertainment in doing things out of spite. However, Unluckily for you, he caught the rock with a gloved hand and threw it back at you with force. You laughed with a mild shriek as you tried to shield yourself, but it hit your left shoulder.

“Ow,” you exclaimed and rubbed the ambushed area of your arm.

“You’ll get over it,” he mocked, repeating what you had said to Marko.

“You see what I have to deal with, Michael,” you joked. Paul threw the remaining fried rice in his carton at you. “Don’t throw food, dipshit! You'll get it in the cushions!”

“It’s maggots, (Y/N),” Paul teased. You took hold of a small display pillow, one that you have been sleeping with, and threw it at Paul. Too bad you missed. Paul mockingly said,

“Try again!”

David was lost in thought before he called out to Marko and whispered something in his ear as the excitement died down, the tone of the night changing drastically as silence engulfed the cave. You could decipher what was said. Marko nodded enthusiastically, giving a quick once-over towards everyone, before leaving and coming back with an ornate wine bottle.

Star became visibly concerned, quickly making her way to Michael’s side. Her reaction was enough for you to mirror that worry. There was no way they were going to turn him tonight, right? Getting Michael drunk to make the process easier hardly seems like the best strategy, if that was what they were doing. Plus, he did not seem like a wine guy.

David, with as much flair as he could muster, popped the cork and drank from the bottle. He opened his eyes, his gaze on Michael intense. He’s dramatic; I’ll give him that. You thought.

“Drink some of this, Michael,” David pressured, offering him the bottle. He quieted and harshly whispered, “be one of us.” You could almost see the ellipses that appeared in Michael's head. You were glad you were not the only one who found the dramatic nature David was talking with anticlimactic. Michael stood from the fountain and gingerly took the bottle from David by the neck. As Dwayne and Paul began to chant Michael’s name, Laddie stood and ran away, granting you another reason to be concerned. Marko joined in. Star moved closer to Michael; you swear that she was just about ready to jump out of her skin with how skittish she was being.

“Michael,” David called, egging him on.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael responded before putting it up to his mouth and taking quite a few large gulps of it. The boys cheered with David yelling, “Bravo!” Star took a step back, shielding Laddie with her left hand. You could not understand why she was so nervous, so afraid. It was just a little bit of wine! Are they seriously trying to get him drunk? Maybe you have overestimated the boys’ planning skills.

Or, this was just a part of their initiation. They could be building up to the actual turning, but all you can do for now is speculate. Hopefully, you will remember to ask one of them about it later.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” You swiftly turned your head to face David, not expecting the spotlight to turn to you.

“Me?” Why did they want you to drink from the bottle? It was not as if you were the one who was going to start walking amongst the undead as one of them; Michael was the one who was joining the clique.

“It's like an initiation,” Paul explained. “Drink it and you're officially one of us, sugar!”

“And don’t think that you’re done, Michael,” David warned as he handed you the bottle. He made brief eye contact with you before returning to look at Michael. “(Y/N) has already gone through it all; you’ve still got to show us that you’ve got what it takes.” Michael took a glimpse at you.

“What it takes,” Michael pressed.

“To be one of us, Michael.”

“And I have what it takes,” you asked. No one denied the statement. You were not sure what specific qualities they saw in you and what they may have considered a test of your worth, but you apparently fit the bill.

“Why else would we be having such a special dinner, (Y/N),” David stated. You chortled. It was not as if they served you a five-star meal from some fancy restaurant that only takes patrons that are dressed to the nines. Well, it was in such a fancy hotel, though collapsed, so maybe you could let it slide.

“All this is for me,” you entertained his statement.

“It is if you drink from the bottle,” Marko answered, sitting on the armrest and leaning towards you, giving you a prying look with raised eyebrows. You let out a hefty chuckle before looking down at the bottle in your hand, swishing the liquid in a clockwise motion, feeling the weight of it as it moved. With it in your hand, you got a closer inspection.

Though tacky, it was a beautiful vessel. It was a clear, glass bottle that was covered in gold plating. Over that, red and white gems decorated it. The red drink inside of the bottle was a vibrant red, bright and alluring. It made sense that they would choose such a drink.

Beginning with Dwayne, the boys chanted, growing louder with each one,

“One of us! One of us! One of us!” An involuntary smile grew on your face. In a way, you guess that you were one of them and a part of their social circle. You had grown to care for them and it warmed your heart that they thought the same of you.

It was just some wine, right? In a fancy sunken hotel like this, it would make sense to find such a fancy bottle among the rubble. And it made sense that this group of vampires would have some weird initiation rituals.

You brought the bottle to your lips and took a sip; you did not drink as much as Michael did, but just enough to get a small taste. That sample was enough given how the boys cheered as you felt it go down your throat. You did a double-take, not expecting it to taste like that.

It did not taste like wine, but it was nothing like you had ever drank before. It was strong, but it was from something other than the alcohol content. It was sweet with a bit of a spicy kick to it as it went down. You made a face, still trying to decide if you liked it or not.

“What is that?” You brought the opening to your eye before taking another sip. “Wow, that does not taste like wine.” One more time, you brought the bottle to your lips before concluding that you enjoyed the flavor; they chose a good initiation drink.

You gave the bottle back to David as you licked your lips clean. You sat comfortably with a bashful smile that you tried to hide with the side of your hand. It was as if they were happier with you drinking the wine than they were with Michael drinking it with how they cheered. They clapped to a rhythm and excitedly chanted again,

“One of us! One of us!” You brought your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

"You guys are way too excited for a little bit of wine," you dismissed, a laugh escaping you as you tried to seem unmoved. Paul hopped onto the box he was sitting on and jumped off to the other side. He raised the volume on his stereo, which was playing some rock song you vaguely recognized.

"Now, we really celebrate," David instructed as Paul jogged back and pulled you up.

"You're one of us now, (Y/N)," Marko cheered as he patted you hard on the back, stepping in front of you and facing you with a wide smile, which you mirrored when you recovered. He took notice of how your eyes completely softened while you smiled at him. Your expression was so real, so sincere.

Those high walls of yours had crumbled down to mere dust, allowing them to step in with ease, which was what you were afraid of, but you could not bring yourself to care in the moment.

You felt a hand gently stroke your upper back and you turned to see Dwayne, who was grinning boyishly down at you. As they left you, you could not deny how good you felt when they chanted your name,

"(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!"

➳ ➳ ➳

Taglist: @lililolli @iloveslasher @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @bazingadotbizoff @motionlessgirl12 @petrelsrose @takemetotheweirdness @collieflower215 @ch3rrydoll @nataliewalker93 @fuzzyblanketsblog @cranberrypills @espurrisfabulous @dwight-y0u-sunflower-slut

If your tag is crossed out, I was unable to tag you.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys david #the lost boys marko #the lost boys paul #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #marko the lost boys #paul the lost boys #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys imagines #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasherboyos writes

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pollylynn · 3 years

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Title: Legate WC: 900 Episode: Scared to Death (5 x 17)

Javier Esposito is not the Work Child she usually has to worry about killing. She rather regularly has to think about disposing of his body, should Lanie finally and justifiably snap, should a hundred leered at, lusted after witnesses and persons of interest suddenly stampede through the precinct, out for blood. But her hands are clean, and if Javi winds up in the pine barrens, she’s well aware that’s not on her.

In general, this is true. When things are functioning as usual, his imminent death is not being mapped out in great detail in the back of her mind. But things are definitely not functioning as usual, and she’s inclined to reassure herself that she’ll pick him out a nice spot in the barrens.

It starts with a minor irritation. Castle is, of course, captivated by the possibilities inherent in the murder of Val Butler. He is counting horseshoes and wind chimes. Castle is definitely being extra Castle, and as usual, the universe has conspired so that Perlmutter has caught the case, which is terrible in two important ways: First, the position of the person who thinks it’s her job to rein in Castle on the weird ones has very definitely been filled already, thank you very much, Detective Esposito, and second, Lanie isn’t there to take care of the potentially messy parts of ending the Work Child she doesn’t usually have to worry about killing.

But all that pettiness gets swept away when Esposito takes a turn for the truly weird. He’s suddenly Castle’s best friend when they’re all feeling their way through the dark of Jason Bennet’s Hoboken apartment. He’s suddenly asking bizarre questions as Castle stumbles and crunches something underfoot that she just hopes wasn’t some kind of vital clue. Detective Javier Esposito is tipping the scales of their little operation to the decidedly weird, and she wants to know why.

She doesn’t ask Javi. She’s apt to punch him in the nose right now if she tried to ask him, and he’d take his life into his own hands by dissembling. She shakes Ryan down for the intel instead, and she never in a million years thought that the day would come when Kevin Ryan turned a shade of red she’s never seen before. But he does. He turns a shade of red that clashes mightily with his sweater vest, and he mumbles something about a will. About Castle’s will and who’s in it.

She’s paralyzed by the admission at first. She’s absolutely stymied as Ryan engages butt-covering mode and insists that he told Javi how lousy a thing it was to wonder about, how it was inviting a smackdown from the almighty. But she’s dazed. She wanders away from the stammering, one-sided conversation and tries to will her head clear. She tries to send herself back in time to a point before the moment when she was so foolish as to ask this damned question of Ryan or anyone. She tries to un-think about the last will and testament of Richard Castle altogether.

She doesn’t want to think about it, because who wants to think about the matter when it comes to anyone they care about. Hell, who even wants to think about it when it comes to the neighbor you hate, the one who bitches constantly. She doesn’t want to think about it because of Paris and how badly that could have gone. But mostly she doesn’t want to think about it, because to think, about it is to wonder if she’s . . . in it.

She’s no Javier Esposito looking for a Ferrari or Knicks tickets or even a basic cash infusion. She writhes inside to contemplate any of those things. She writhes every time she’s forced to think about things like the small fortune of Richard Castle, and how far it is from her experience. let alone how that small fortune should be divvied up. That’s not what preoccupies her, though. That’s not what paralyzes her and makes her suddenly self-conscious about everything.

It’s not about the money or the material things he might or might not bequeath to her in any such document. It isn’t even—anymore, anyway—that her heart rate picks up and she starts sweating profusely at the thought that he might have formalized his once-informal request to look after Alexis and shoot any frisky boyfriends. Alexis, after all, is a woman, not a child.

It’s not specifically about a worry that he’s somehow saddled her with adopting a young woman who is twenty going on fifty-five. It’s generally about the worry that he’s the kind of person who might do that. He might try to bind her to his life in a host of stunningly creative ways.

He’s the kind of person who carries his bucket list around with him, creased and worn with handling. And he’s the kind of person who is utterly unfazed when she plucks the thing out of his hand and reads out her own name and his quiet ambitions for them—Be with Kate. It’s the kind of person he is: He makes long-term plans.

And now, thank you Detective Javier Esposito and his delusions of inheritance, she can’t help wondering if she’s part of them. She can’t help wondering what the Last Will and Testament of Richard Castle might have to say on the question.

A/N: The constantly shifting last will and testament of Richard Castle is without morphousness. I don’t know what possessed Brain!Poneh here.

images via kissthemgoodbye

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 5 #Castle: Scared to Death #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Javier Esposito #Lanie Parish #Kevin Ryan #FIc #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fiction #Writing #Tell Me More

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asianhappinesss · 2 years

Text

Dear diary

Summary

24-year-old Chen Mei Ru is a member of the internet police force whose personality is withdrawn and eccentric. On her birthday, her only good friend Jiang Hui Zhen plans an extravagant party for her. That night, a man with the appearance of a Babylonian approaches her – he calls himself a prince, one who is born for her. Chen Mei Ru believes it to be a joke, until this “prince” utters his name… Chen Mei Ru suddenly recalls the unbearable memories of her childhood: the handsome and remarkable prince; the gorgeous love rival, a princess with the power to control wind and rain; the prince’s best friend, an astronomically wealthy man. All of them were characters in a diary that she wrote when she was 12 years old. The diary’s plot was childish and cliched. Now that this group of three people has suddenly appeared in her life, could it be…these “diary characters” have come to life?

Review

This might be the first time that the lack of recognition for a TV show has made me sad. And there isn’t enough time in the world to be sad over this. Hence, this one time, I will surrender my wise principle of reserving judgment until a drama ends so that I may recommend this gem – Dear Diary (我的巴比伦恋人). Treat it as a midterm review!

If this drama betrays me with a drop in writing quality during the second half, then…well, I’ll be even more sad, but I’ll also return to this post and let you know riiiiiight here: it’s a winner, fam. Uh. Wish we didn’t have censorship laws, though…

As per usual, no spoilers are included in this post!

What is it?

A jaded career woman suddenly meets a stranger—key point: dressed as an ancient Babylonian—at her 24th birthday party, who abruptly professes his undying love for her. Turns out that this stranger is a prince, a character that she created in a story twelve years ago. Yes: think of those tales that you wove as an adolescent, and imagine meeting someone who emerged from those pages and spits out all that elementary dialogue like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Oh. Please. No.

Dear Diary initially comes off as a silly romcom with bizarre humor. Also, it’s native title translates to “My Babylonian Lover.” Yeah, we’ve heard a lot of generic, cheesy names like that before, haven’t we? Don’t be fooled, though. This drama is not only hysterically funny, but also a refreshingly creative and down-to-earth experience. To encapsulate: it’s quality.

Why watch?

Build abs with your laughter - there’s not really a way for a show with such a setup to be boring. It’s somewhat of a cross between Enchanted and The Romance of Tiger and Rose, in which the clash between a cliche storybook world and mundane reality produces a humorous culture shock effect. Yet, it somehow manages to be even funnier than you’d expect; because it’s not just any story come to life.

It’s a story written by a twelve-year-old. One without any class or consideration of reason, but sufficiently imaginative and cringeworthy to generate a real impact on you. None of the jokes are cheap or low-effort, and their deliveries are also spot-on. And even better if you have an understanding of certain aspects of Chinese culture: some of these gags are sure to hit you like a truck and send you flying.

Sometimes, during my work day, I’ll be minding my own business when my brain will randomly conjure up a segment from this show and I’ll start snickering. Right there, in front of the printer; in front of all my coworkers. So it’s probably responsible of me to warn you that the humor may have lasting side effects.

Let’s get real – for a show that appears so far departed from reality, it does an amazing job at portraying the struggle of young people in discovering their own self-worth. So much so that I feel a poignant, personal connection to the story. The basis is wild, but it ties back to the main character’s childhood, and how the story she wrote was a source of both comfort and trauma.

While the fantasy elements give us entertainment, they’re also utilized as metaphors for this cruel world of ours. At certain points, you’ll realize that the exchanges between characters incorporate a scary amount of meaning. It’s not every day that you encounter a drama that will heal you to this extent: it will make you laugh until you’re out of breath, and then empathize with your exhaustion.

Character inception – the characters of the female lead’s story? Umm…let’s just leave it at “cheesy.” But they quickly grow to be just as human as their 3D companions, and are equally—if not more—endearing. None of this drama’s characters fit into standard archetypes, and each one of them is the main subject of their own story. There isn’t a single character that’s “just a side character,” nor is there a single pairing that’s “just a side couple.”

The individuality of each, paired with actors that have impeccable understanding of their roles, makes it so easy to marathon this show because nothing is filler content. You’ll inhale episode after episode, deeply invested in what will happen to every single person on the screen before you even realize that you care.

“Fantasy” does not mean there are no rules – sorry to the writers, but I wasn’t expecting this show to be intelligent in any capacity. In my defense, is it my fault for having low expectations when so many TV shows are just…really dumb? But it doesn’t take long for you to discover that this show is a thoughtful one: imagine, the writers decide to use logic to develop the story. That’s not to say that the story is perfect. Given the short length of each episode (30 minutes a pop), the progression sometimes feels inelegant and clunky.

However, the drama still provides explanations for phenomena that could have easily been passed off as “fantastical things happening however they feel like happening, because none of it is real to begin with anyway.” Ugh…I’m so touched right now. Both as a whole and in its parts, you can tell how much love went into this show’s every moment.

The final conclusion is: watchable. Better than watchable. It’s put me under a spell, I tell you. Maybe a prince will come and awaken me from it. Wait, no. Uh. No, I take that back. I’ll just watch the drama.

#cdrama

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well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years

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"Recipe for Disaster" sounds like a perfect title for MC and Mammon lmao

Human cooking channel youtuber AU! Hear me out!

Mammon's a model who made a YouTube channel to come across as more relatable and get more fans (earn more money). During his first ever video he makes a stew for lunch out of anything and everything he finds in the fridge while talking about what it's like to be a model etc. (Time is money and he's all about efficiency and that includes multitasking). And the concoction he creates is so bizarre that 90% of the comments are talking about his food rather than his actual modeling career.

Mammon has a nose for sniffing out the newest schemes business ideas if nothing else so his whole channel becomes dedicated to making bizarre food out of whatever ingredients he has at hand and feeding them to his less than willing brothers. His channel grows in popularity (it helps that not only do all his brothers look like super models they're also some of the weirdest people anyone has ever seen. Half his viewers are convinced they're all just characters that these guys are playing. Some of them have theories that all the brothers are based off a sin, kinda like that one spongebob theory. One of his subscribers swears that one of the brother's- Stan maybe? actual name is Satan and everyone else has just been hearing it wrong)

MC has a much smaller channel, at first they use it to talk about tips for photography (HC that MC is a photographer and all those professional pics of the brothers on Devilgram that could only have been taken by someone else was actually taken by MC) and then it pretty much becomes a vlog where they rant about one of their roommates (Solomon) and how he set the kitchen on fire three times during the last 5 days but still happily ate the burnt food (charcoal. It was charcoal at that point). It eventually evolves into a channel of them fixing Solomon's nightmare fuel food and making it something actually edible and this actually makes their channel grow somewhat. (And no it's not just people coming in to catch the occasional glimpse of their other roommate's shoulders)

Eventually Mammon gets a comment saying MC should fix Mammon's food.

He goes on a full rant about how there's nothing to fix and his food is good so what if it's so spicy one of his victims brothers passed out that one time that's just cause they have no taste.

He ends up watching MC's latest video then and ends up binge watching them all through the next few days and getting a stupid crush

Someone links MC to his rant video, and they make a video on how all his recipes seem really unique and how they'd never have thought of that by themself and they don't actually look hazardous to humanity as a whole like Solomon's food is but here's how you fix it so that it's actually edible and won't make you meet God

He sees this and isn't sure if he should be giddy because they praised him or pissed off because they tried to fix his creation. He obviously chooses the latter and rants about them while making something that looks suspiciously radioactive

MC replies with a video complimenting all the ingredients he chose and explaining them while simultaneously calling him an idiot for dipping his bare hand in boiling water to take out potatoes and ending it with a suggestion to get pot holders to drain the water and take the potatoes out after they cool

He replies with a video about how he's not gonna waste money on pot holders when his hand works just fine before he makes chocolate sauce and black licorice mashed potatoes and uses his bare hand to fish out the potatoes just to spite them.

MC replies with a video on how to fix the dish so the flavours won't clash while still keeping the essential ingredients but doesn't mention his hands

He gets a set of bright yellow pot holders and (to be on the safe side) oven mitts with little crows on them ("because your hair looks like a crow's nest") in his P.O. box.He uses them in his next video to make a batch of ketchup and peanut butter cookies

MC fixes another one of Solomon's messes that ended with something with the same consistency of glue stuck to their ceiling while happily snacking on ketchup and peanut butter cookies

This back and forth goes on for a bit, Mammon refuses to change his recipes but they still silently exchange gifts

Obviously their (now shared) viewers notice and start calling out for a collab

MC agrees immediately but Mammon refuses (he's shy fuck he couldn't imagine meeting them face to face) but the draw of money (not their puppy dog eyes in the last video!) makes him agree. They discuss the details over email and agree to do it at his house because he's got the bigger kitchen

They meet at his house and it's awkward at first because he's red af and can't meet their eyes and all his brothers are crowding the doorway to the kitchen and giggling but once the filming starts they fall into an easy routine. They riff off each other and move around the kitchen comfortably as if they've been working together for years. That doesn't mean they don't still argue though, but there's no hostility in it. Mammon gives out the idea of his latest recipe and MC plans out the specifics so that they can execute it. Since it's their first video they make something small and work together easily. Their spicy mayonnaise cupcakes turn out perfectly and are actually good considering none of the brothers are rushing out of the frame.

They are asked for more collabs and they do because they had fun in the first one. The viewers now have to watch two obviously pinning idiots being disasters in a kitchen together. (Just because MC can fix recipes doesn't mean they aren't a mess). They have to watch Mammon go from blushing and stuttering to casually offering MC his finger to lick when he gets icing on it. They have to watch MC going from lowkey flirting to pulling out brightly coloured clips and pinning back Mammon's bangs while his hands are kneading dough. They have to watch the brothers slowly warm up to MC until they're being treated like they've been part of the family from the very beginning (yes this includes viewers catching the first few seconds of an hours long lecture that MC gets from Lucifer). They still have their own channels but they also start up a new channel called 'Recipe for Disaster'. This channel also has vlogs of them randomly buying ingredients for their next cooking video.

Of course there are the rumours and speculation of whether or not they are actually dating, people shipping them, Levi comes up with a ship name, others saying how weird it is to ship real people. MC and Mammon neither confirm it or deny it. During the early days before they had a joint channel Mammon would loudly protest to any such claims while MC just fondly smiled in the background. And sure now he refers to MC as his partner a lot but he could easily mean partner in crime against the food pyramid.

Their viewers finally get their answer when MC one day walks out into one of Mammon's videos in sweatpants and one of his shirts, sleepily kisses him on the cheek and he doesn't even twitch as he says "Mornin' Babe" and continues with his monologue while they grab the milk and walk off frame. They don't even stop to think about whether they should edit it out because they've been dating for one and a half years now. But obviously everyone freaks out and just - Mammon reading the comments with MC looking over his shoulder:

"Heeeeey? Did people just not know we were, ya know, datin'?"

" ...that's weird."

"Wasn't our first video on Recipe for Disaster me tellin' them you were my partner?"

"Yeah weird...the Internet's full of freaks. Remember that time they all thought you were a demon and started mailing holy water?"

"Yeah, what the fuck was that 'bout? Stan got fuckin' pissed!"

I'm tired af & I'll do the rest later! Pls let me know what you think tho❤

#asks #answers #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #obey me!#shall we date? obey me!#swd obey me #swd mammon #om! mammon #ask meme #ask game

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fanmoose12 · 4 years

Text

Levi just couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t believe that his ship – a legendary Wings of Freedom, the pride of the British armada – was ambushed. He couldn’t believe that he – an experienced captain and famed veteran – along with his crew of the most skilled soldiers in the whole sea force was captured.

By fucking pirates. Stinking, dirty pirates.

Levi was enraged, he was humiliated, and most of all, he was confused.

How those fuckers managed to approach their ship undetected? How did they get on it unnoticed? And how could that woman, their captain, get inside his private chambers?

Levi was an extremely light sleeper. Years in army and, before that, years of living on the street had taught him that it was an essential skill. The smallest of noise, the quietest creak could wake him up.

But somehow this woman managed to open the door, walk inside his room and stand directly above him, as he kept peacefully slumbering. Only when she pressed a cold dagger to his throat, only then Levi woke up.

And as he opened his eyes, he was met with a face of a woman he had never seen before. She was wearing round glasses and her left eye was covered by a black patch. Her hair was haphazardly put up in a ponytail. Her lips were curved in a wide, almost crazy grin.

“Hi,” she whispered to him, pressing her dagger tighter to his skin. Her voice was soft as honey. “I really don’t want to hurt you, and I’m sure you don’t want me to hurt you. So let’s cooperate, alright?”

Levi bared his teeth at her. Like hell he would cooperate with someone like her. There was a dagger hidden underneath his pillow. He started to slowly move his hand, if he could just reach it—

The woman grabbed his hand, before it touched the handle.

“Ah, ah,” she shook her head. “Don’t move.”

She held his arm firmly, she was evidently strong. But not stronger than Levi. He could overpower her, he was sure of it.

“I wouldn’t do it, if I were you,” the woman said, seeing through his intensions. “Even if you can win a fight with me,” If? Who did she think he was? “My people are standing outside, and all of your people were already dealt with.”

Levi tensed, all blood leaving his face. Was his crew—?

“They are alive,” the woman assured him. Her gaze turned surprisingly soft. “And unharmed. And if you promise to cooperate, they will be safe.”

“And why should I trust you?”

“I am an honest person.”

“Pirates don’t know what honor is.”

“Then you’re in luck,” she laughed. “After all, I’m only a part-time pirate!”

***

Hange Zoe – a part-time pirate and a full-time explorer of distant lands.

That’s how she described herself to Levi. The name, the name sounded so familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember, where he had heard it.

Levi glared at her furiously, as she walked around the deck, talking about herself, her crew and what they were intending to do to their ship. Levi didn’t really listen, he was too busy, thinking of the best way to murder her. He could shoot her, or run her through with his sword, or, maybe, he could throw her off the ship and watch her slowly drown. He also could capture her and take her back to England. He wasn’t a fun of executions, but he would happily attend Hange Zoe’s hanging.

But first, he needed to free himself from the ropes that bound his legs and arms together. Levi was actually impressed – those pirates certainly knew how to tie up a person, he couldn’t move an inch. They probably had a lot of experience. He glanced to his right, checking on Mikasa, his second in command. She looked just as furious as he did. So, she couldn’t free herself either. Levi turned to his other crew members – Armin, Eren, Jean, Connie and Sasha – all of them looked as helpless as Levi himself felt.

Shit.

Levi turned his attention back on Hange. She was looking right at him.

“I asked where you are heading,” she crouched next to Levi. “So?”

He stared at her, letting her see all of his fury. If she was actually expecting an answer from him, she was going to be very disappointed.

Hange waited for a moment, smiling expectantly. When Levi continued to silently glare at her, she huffed and turned to the person next to him.

“You,” she pointed at Armin. The boy immediately tensed. “Where are you going?”

“Um…” Armin’s eyes darted to Levi, as sweat started to drip down his face.

“C’mon,” Hange’s smile grew wider. “Just tell me.”

“We are… going to Port Royal,” he finally whispered.

“See? It wasn’t so hard.”

Her voice was so gentle and her eyes were so soft, and it all looked so genuine, Levi felt sick. What a vile, vile woman.

“Well, you’ve heard him,” Hange got to her feet and turned around, addressing the three of her crewmen. “Moblit, set course to Port Royal. Nifa, go and help him. Abel and Keiji, stay with me.”

Once she was done with giving out orders, Hange turned back to Levi. She put hands on her hips, staring at him intently. She didn’t say a word for a very long time, continuing to watch him.

“You’ve said that pirates don’t have honor,” she said finally. “Members of the navy do?”

“Of course, we do!” Eren, another member of his crew, shouted.

Hange turned to look at the boy, her lips twitching in an attempt to hide a smile. However, when her eyes returned to Levi, all signs of amusement were gone. She gazed at him, grave and serious. “Can you guarantee that?”

“I can,” Levi nodded.

“Alright,” she sighed. “I’m going to release you then. You can walk around the ship freely, doing whatever you want. We will get you to Port Royal safely. We won’t harm you, if you promise to cooperate.”

“You won’t kill us?” Levi asked slowly. “What do you want from us then?”

“I just want your ship,” she answered simply. “And I don’t want to hurt you. If you give us your ship, no one will be hurt. That I swear to you.”

“And what if I won’t agree? What if we start fighting the moment you free us?”

“I could have killed you. I still can. But I don’t want to. If you’re as honest man as you claim, you will respect that. And honor our treaty.”

It was stupid. Foolish, reckless, senseless. Pirates can’t be trusted, they’re murderers and thieves. But something told him that this woman was different, that Hange Zoe, a part-time pirate and full-time explorer, would keep her word.

And Levi, once he gave his word, always kept it.

“I agree to your terms. I promise not to hurt you, or your men. Once we get to the shore, you will get your ship.”

Hange smiled, bright and happy. “And you will get your freedom.”

***

Sharing a ship with pirates was surprisingly… easy.

Hange and her trusty crew were nothing like the pirates Levi had previously encountered. They weren’t violent or greedy, and they didn’t spend their days drinking and cracking vulgar jokes. They were actually… quite pleasant and obviously intelligent bunch. Those words, of course, didn’t apply to their captain. No, Hange was different, she got on Levi’s nerves so frequently, he felt like he was slowly losing his sanity.

She was loud, brash and bold. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and she didn’t stop to think about her choice of words, always spurting out the weirdest, most inappropriate shit. Hange was absolutely infuriating, impossible in every way. And it angered Levi, made him fucking furious and just realizing it was painful, but she intrigued him. He was captivated by her unusual persona, by different, and often clashing, parts of her character.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Levi’s whole crew liked Hange. Armin and Eren were fascinated by her stories about distant lands, Jean enjoying listening about different cultures she studied, Sasha and Connie were stuffing themselves with exotic food she found during her travels. Even Mikasa, who, at first, acted hostile towards her, started admiring her, when Hange showed her the collection of bizarre weapons, which she accumulated over the years of exploring the many realms and continents.

All of them were in fucking awe of Hange, and Levi suspected that even if he decided to break his promise and kill Hange to save their ship, he would have a really hard time convincing his subordinates to go with his plan.

Luckily, Levi had no intention of going back on his word. As long as Hange was keeping her end of the bargain, of course.

The more Levi watched her, the more it seemed like his first impression of her was wrong. Hange didn’t look like the cruel, violent woman Levi thought she was. On the contrary, she seemed kind and even gentle. She fiercely cared about her own crewmembers and she treated Levi’s crew with warmth and good-naturedness.

All in all, Hange appeared to be a good, honest person. At least, that’s what Levi wanted to believe.

***

Another thing about Hange that frustrated Levi so much was her name. It still eluded him. He was sure, absolutely adamant that he had heard it before, but he just couldn’t remember where. He even asked Armin to look into this, but as for now, the boy didn’t give him any real answer.

So all he could do now was to continue watching her from afar, hoping that with time he would be able to solve this mystery.

***

There were many aspects of Hange that surprised and bewildered Levi. But the most amazing part of her was how skillful she was. She was a great and evidently experienced captain, passionate and knowledgeable explorer, who knew a whole myriad of different languages and culture customs. And she was also a very good fighter. Whatever weapon she used – sword, musket, crossbow, spear or axe (Levi especially enjoyed watching her wield that for the reasons he didn’t want to think about) – she was always deadly efficient with it.

In her spare time, Hange helped Mikasa train and, from time to time, she also agreed to duel with some of Levi’s subordinates. Eren and Jean were the ones who liked to challenge Hange the most, even though they always lost to her.

Naturally, it hurt some parts of Levi’s pride. He was the one, who trained those idiots. And Hange won fights with them without much hassle. But he would lie, if he said that he didn’t like watching her. Hange was strong, quick and endlessly graceful. Even with patch, covering her left eye, she was swift and coordinated.

It was one of those times, when Levi watched Hange effortlessly disarm Eren that Armin sat down next to him.

“I think I found out the origin of captain Hange’s name,” the boy said, handing Levi a book.

He scanned through the contents of a page Armin showed him. So that’s where Hange was from? He would need to ask her about it. Finally, he gained some leverage on her.

He was so lost in that satisfactory feeling that he didn’t notice that Eren had clutched his arm and started dragging him upwards.

“Captain, please!” Eren lamented, as he continued to pull Levi up. “You have to fight with captain Hange. She always wins, it’s unfair!”

“Yes, you have to show her what we’re made of!” Jean agreed.

“We believe in you, Captain!” Sasha cheered, giving Levi one last shove in the direction of Hange.

Hange herself stood in front of him. She put hands on her hips, grinning at him. “You don’t have to fight with me. If you’re afraid to lose.”

Oh, so that was it? She was that cocky? Well, Levi couldn’t just let it continue. He snatched the saber out of Eren’s hand, taking a stand and smirking at her gloomily. “You fought those fools and think you can win a duel with me? Not in a million years, pirate.”

“Why won’t we spice it up a little, sailor? Want to start a bet? Whoever loses has to fulfill the winner’s wish.”

Levi scowled. “You didn’t start any bets with those brats.”

“Because I knew it would be an easy. But you… I think you are quite a challenge.”

“And what kind of wish are we talking about?”

Hange gave him an almost feral grin. “Anything that comes to your mind.”

“And if I ask you to jump over the railing and give me back my ship?”

“Um, yeah,” Hange chuckled. “Anything but that.”

Levi huffed. “Fine, let’s get on with it, then.”

Hange mimicked his stance, ready to strike. “Show me what you got.”

As soon as Hange stopped talking, she attacked. It wasn’t a mighty swing, she was evidently just testing the ground, and Levi blocked it easily. Hange immediately followed it with another hit, and then another. Levi had no choice but to step back. He looked at Hange closely, he watched her fight with Eren, Jean and Mikasa, and she used a different style then. In duels with them, she was more on a defensive, waiting for an opportunity to land her critical hit. But now, she was moving swiftly, attacking him again and again, forcing him to either block and give her an opening, or move back.

Oh. So that’s what she was trying to do.

Levi looked her in the eye. Hange met his gaze, grinning wildly.

He blocked her next attack and then countered it with his own. Before Hange could react, he inflicted another blow. Two could play this game.

So very soon, Hange had to start evading his attacks. She jumped to the side or took a step back. She tried to retaliate, but Levi didn’t give her even a chance to do so. And in a matter of a few minutes of furiously charging at her, Levi finally had her exactly where he needed. Cornered against the door of a cabin. With a heavy swing, he knocked the weapon out of her hand. Then he moved his saber up, pressing its tilt to Hange’s throat.

He took a step closer, until their chests were nearly touching. Hange was breathing heavily, and with a start Levi realized that he had some difficulty breathing too.

Was it because of their fight? Or something else?

Hange licked her lips, before curving them in another grin. Levi’s eyes traced that movement. Suddenly, he wanted to take another step closer. Move so close that he would be able to look into her eye. From where he stood, it was near impossible to see the brown color of her iris, almost all of it was taken over by the black of the pupil. Was she so excited because of their fight? Or something else?

And then, as Hange slowly lifted her hands in surrender, Levi realized. He could kill her right now. She was weaponless and helpless, entirely at his mercy. He could end it right there and then, get rid of Hange and then deal with the rest of her team. Take his ship back. But somehow, murder wasn’t the thing that occupied his mind.

Instead, for some weird reason, he couldn’t look away from her lips. From up close, they looked soft. If he touched them right now, if he tasted them, pressing his own mouth to them, would he like it? Would Hange like it?

“That was great, Captain!”

Eren clasped his shoulder with a smile, and Levi moved swiftly, as though his proximity with Hange had burned him. He threw the saber to the ground, hastily leaving the deck.

What was wrong with him? What the fuck was he thinking about? Hange was his enemy, a dirty pirate, who had stolen his ship, and what he wanted to do with her? Make out? Stupid fucking idiot.

“Levi, wait!”

Oh no, it was Hange. Levi tried to close the doors to his cabin, but she had already stepped inside.

“You didn’t tell me your wish,” she explained, smiling softly.

Oh, right, the wish. Certainly, there were a couple of things he wished to do with Hange. And those were the same things he shouldn’t even think about!

“Come out to the deck at midnight,” he said instead, ignoring the weird feelings inside his chest. And the almost irresistible urge to get close to Hange. “I want to talk with you about something.”

“Roger that!” Hange saluted to him, leaving his cabin.

Levi watched her go. She seemed completely unaffected. Was he the only one, who felt this? This tension, this atmosphere between them. It was intense, charged with something powerful and unnamable. It pulled Levi closer, made it impossible to look away, when Hange was in his line of sight.

He just couldn’t stay away from her. And the worst thing – he didn’t want to.

***

As soon as his watch stroke midnight, Levi walked out to the deck. Hange was already there, waiting for him.

She looked different than usual – she changed from her shirt, pants and long coat into a thin white shirt a light yellow robe. Her hair was free out of the familiar ponytail, and now the soft brown locks cascaded down to her shoulders. She looked weird, seemed almost innocent and fragile. Levi mentally scoffed, as that word came to his mind. Hange was many things, but she definitely wasn’t fragile.

“Did you want to talk?” she asked without looking at him. “Or did you come here to stare at me?”

Shit, so she noticed him. Levi felt his face burn. Damn it, he needed to focus.

“I found your family,” he said, thrusting a book Armin gave him into her hands. “Francisco Zoe, that’s your father right?”

“Maybe,” Hange shrugged, not even glancing at the book. “What does it matter, though?”

“He is a member Parliament, he owns a massive amount of lands and estates – he’s rich and very influential!”

“So what?” Hange lazily required.

“So what?!” Levi gasped. “You, his only child, are a pirate captain, who can’t even afford your own ship!”

“I’m not his child,” she retorted bitterly. “He is a cruel and heartless man, who doesn’t give a shit about me. He never did. The only reason, why he kept me by his side all these years was because he wanted to marry me off. And when I refused, he disowned me.”

“Your father kicked you out…” Levi stared at her incredulously. “So you’ve decided to become a pirate?”

“I’m not a pirate,” Hange reminded him. “I always dreamed of being an explorer – of studying and researching different cultures. But no university in England wanted to hire me, so,” she rolled her shoulders. “I stole a ship and decided to make my dream a reality.”

“And your crew—?”

Hange smiled, the gesture softening her features. “They’ve been servants at my father’s house. I used to read them my books, and when I was preparing to run away, they wanted to go with me. We’ve been together ever since.”

Levi shook his head, trying to make a sense of Hange’s story. She had it all – wealth, social status and a safe future, but she decided to sacrifice it, because she had other dreams, because she wasn’t content with her life. It was hard for Levi to understand it, or her. He grew up poor and struggled all his life, just trying to survive. His mother died, when he was a boy, his uncle left him, when he was barely a teenager. He would have given anything to be in Hange’s place, to live a comfortable and safe life. But she threw it all away and didn’t seem to regret it in the least.

“You seem troubled,” Hange noted with a quiet chuckle.

“I don’t understand you,” Levi answered truthfully. “You just left your comfortable life behind, became a criminal and an outlaw, who can be killed at any moment. Dozens of British officers are trying to capture you, send you to jail, or, worse to the gallows. Why did you do it?”

“To free myself,” Hange said softly, but proudly. “To get away from my asshole father and live my life the way I want it to. And by the way, you’re wrong,” she smiled mischievously. “There aren’t any British officers, who are trying to capture me.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you so sure?”

Hange leaned in, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I didn’t cut my ties with London completely. I still have a few very influential friends.”

Levi’s eyes widened, as he realized who exactly Hange meant. There was only one person, who held such a high rank and was daring and reckless enough to conspire with pirates.

“And what that bastard needs from you?”

“B-bastard?” Hange choked. “You know Erwin?!”

“He’s my superior officer,” Levi grumbled, avoiding Hange’s curious gaze. “And you didn’t answer my question, four-eyes.”

“Ah, well,” Hange adjusted her glasses. “Pirates frequently attack ships. And sometimes Erwin points me to especially well-equipped vessels.”

“You spy for him!” Levi pinned Hange with a hard gaze. “Did he tell to attack our ship as well?”

“No! It was a mere coincidence,” Hange smiled slyly, playing with strands of her hair. “Or maybe fate?”

“There is no such thing as fate,” Levi huffed.

“So everything happens without a reason?”

“Exactly,” he nodded.

Hange elbowed him in the side, chuckling. “You’re a cynic.”

“And you’re naively optimistic.”

“Opposites attract?” Hange smirked.

And there it was again. That same electrifying tension, which pulled Levi closer to her. He tried to resist it, but the longer he spent looking into her eye, the harder it became to tear his gaze away. Hange stared back at him just as intently, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. It looked like a completely involuntarily action, but Levi’s pulse raced double time.

Was Hange’s heartbeat as loud and fast as his? Was she as affected by their sudden proximity as he was?

Without really thinking about his actions, Levi slowly lifted his arm. He didn’t know what he was trying to do – put it on her shoulder to bring her closer? Tangle it in her hair, so he could crash their lips together?

But before he had a chance to decide, Hange jumped to the side, escaping his arms.

“It’s getting late, don’t you think?” she giggled. The sound was so forced, it made Levi cringe. “I think I’ll head to bed now! Goodnight!”

And then Hange almost ran to her own cabin.

Shit.

Levi lowered his hand and tightened it into a fist. What was he even thinking? What was she doing to him, why couldn’t he control himself in her presence? It wasn’t like him at all, he was always in control. He controlled every emotion and feeling, every move of his body and word from his mouth. But when Hange was around, all of his carefully constructed walls crumbled and fell. One smile from her was all it took for Levi to lose his mind, to completely surrender to her charms or whatever it was that made him react so wildly.

He needed to get a grip on himself. He needed to stop thinking about the brown color of her eye, or the soft curve of her smile, or the way her laughter reminded him of warm, sunny days.

Hange was a pirate, his enemy. She stole his ship for Christ’s sake! He must hate her, not want to kiss her so hard that she would forget everything, but his name.

He needed to get her out of his head. To avoid her at all costs, until they part their ways.

***

Surprisingly, avoiding Hange wasn't as hard as Levi had feared. All he really had to do was to close himself inside his cabin and take as much books from Armin, as the boy had.

It wasn't an ideal situation, Levi hated sitting around and doing nothing, and Armin's choice of books was boring, to say the least. But. It gave him at least something to think about besides Hange and whatever was going on between them.

Still, even though he was spending all his days behind closed doors, it was hard to escape from Hange. The walls were paper-thin and so Levi heard her every laugh or exclamation. And every time he did, his treacherous mind filled with images of Hange's infuriating face. He'd think about her stupid cocky grin or her annoyingly sweet smile or her pretty brown eyes that seemed to sparkle, when she was excited or happy.

And it drove him mad, made him want to bang his head against the wall, because goddamn it, but he wanted her. He wanted her so much it was insufferable. It confused him, and, more than that, it scared him.

He had never felt like this - sure, he wasn't a stranger to sex, and sometimes, when he was on land, he'd seek some pleasurable company, but he never did it intentionally. He had never wanted it, needed it so much.

But when Hange was next to him, he could barely resist himself. He wanted to kiss her so much it almost pained him.

But somehow he knew— he knew that if he let himself kiss her, if he managed to taste her on his lips at least once, then he wouldn't be able to let go. And he couldn't, wouldn't let that happen.

Soon they'll reach Port Royal. Hange would be gone from his life forever. And, hopefully, she'd be gone from his heart too.

*** Levi was reading a particularly thrilling paragraph about navigation, when his door began to shake with thunderous blows. He groaned, recognizing Eren's knocks right away.

"The fuck do you want?" he shouted, not bothering to get to his feet and open the door.

Unfortunately, either Eren didn't hear him or he misinterpreted his words for a welcome, because in the next second he tumbled inside his room.

"Captain!"

Levi tensed, as he saw that the boy looked absolutely wild - his face was flushed and his eyes stared at him with a desperate implore. Did something happen? Were they attacked or—

"It's an absolute disaster!" Eren cried out. "Captain Hange's crew, you have to stop them!"

What? Did Hange decide to break her promise? Levi felt his blood go cold. He believed her, fucking trusted her and she betrayed him?

"Eren," Levi walked to the boy and tightly gripped his shoulders. "What happened?"

"The tournament!"

The what?

"We decided to organize the tournament, to find out who is better - pirates or members of navy, and—"

"Wait," Levi took a step back, pinching the bridge of his nose. Headache started to form behind his eyelids. "You are this panicked because of some stupid competition?"

"We can't lose to them, Captain!"

"Our honor is on the line!" Connie added, materializing seemingly out of thin air. All other members of Levi’s crew appeared next to him as well. All of them had the same desperate expressions as Eren.

Levi sighed. The headache was rapidly intensifying. "Fine, tell me what happened."

"We were kind of bored, so Сaptain Hange proposed to find out who are the best fighters," Eren began. "There were four duels."

"I defeated Keiji!" Connie shouted proudly.

"But that horse Jean lost to Abel," Eren shook his head. Jean glared at him, elbowing him in the side.

"Mikasa won in a fight against Moblit," Armin said, smiling nervously.

"But Sasha couldn't defeat Nifa," Connie sadly finished.

"So now we have a tie!" the fire returned to Eren's eyes.

"And the fuck I have to do with your shit?" Levi asked, crossing hands on his chest and scowling at his subordinates. "You still didn't fight, Eren. Go and duel with four-eyes. Win that stupid tournament and get over it."

"But Captain! I've fought with her dozens of times! And I didn't win even once!"

"Guys," Levi tensed, as he heard that voice. Soon its owner appeared in his doorway. "Don't pressure your Captain so much. If he's afraid of losing, there is nothing you can do."

Oh, that's how it was? She was back to her insufferably cocky self?

"I won last time, four-eyes," Levi coldly remained.

"Doesn't mean you'll win this time too," she smirked.

"If you want to embarrass yourself again," he growled, pushing past his crewmembers.

He grabbed the saber from Mikasa, gripping it tightly in his hand. His grip became even tighter, when he saw the smug look on Hange's face, as she sauntered to stand in front of him.

She twirled her own saber, that damn smirk still plastered on her lips. Levi wanted to wipe it off with his fist, or, more preferably, with his own lips.

"The terms are the same as last time? The one who loses has to fulfill the other's wish?"

"You were the one, who lost last time," Levi reminded her again.

"The past is in the past," Hange shrugged, before taking a fighting stance.

In the next moment, she attacked. And even though, Levi was ready for it, he wasn't quite ready for the force of her hit. Hange swung her saber so heavily, Levi's own weapon had almost fallen to the ground.

He cursed under his breath, she changed her fighting style again. She didn't give him the slightest chance to adapt. What an irritating woman. Fighting with her was absolutely exhilarating.

Before he could perform his own attack, Hange hit him again. And again. Her swings were fast, but strong, and all Levi could do was try his best to avoid them. He blocked, ducked, jumped back, stepped aside. Soon he and Hange were dancing around the deck, going around each other in circles.

Hange was an excellent fighter, but not better than Levi. Dueling with her wouldn't be that hard, if he could focus on something else, except that exciting twinkle in her eye.

And, of course, because she wasn't just a good fighter, but an incredibly sharp person, Hange saw right through him. And turned his fault into her advantage. While Levi was so centered on her face, she swung lowly, hitting his wrist. It was an intentionally soft hit, Hange was evidently extra careful not to hurt him. However, the impact still made him drop his weapon.

A wide, victorious grin appeared on her face. Behind them, Hange's crew began to shout in triumph, while Levi's men groaned in defeat.

"I'll be waiting for you at midnight," she whispered, patting his shoulder.

And then, she went to accept congratulations from her crew, leaving Levi stare after her with a dazed and shook expression.

***

Levi knew it was a bad idea. To stand next to Hange on the empty deck in the middle of the night - he was practically asking for trouble. But he always kept his word, and he wouldn't break his principals now. He'd listen to what Hange wants from him, he'd perform whatever stupid task she'd ask. And then he'd leave.

Without looking back.

He got a sense of déjà vu, when he walked out to the deck and saw Hange there.

"So you came," she noted without turning to face him.

"You doubted me?" Levi took a few steps closer, but still stood a little distance away.

"Well," Hange shrugged. "You were avoiding me for three days."

So she noticed, huh? Well, he wasn't exactly subtle.

"What is your wish?" he asked gruffly, trying to mask his uneasiness.

Hange grinned, finally looking at him. "Kiss me," she said simply.

"What?!"

"Kiss me," Hange repeated sweetly, as though she was talking to a child. "On the lips."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Maybe. But you agreed to a bet. Or does honor means nothing to you?”

Levi let out a low growl. She was taunting him, he knew that. Telling her to go fuck herself and then leaving was the smartest thing to do.

Unfortunately, Levi didn’t consider himself to be a very smart person.

So her grabbed by the shirt and crashed his lips against hers. He meant for it to be brief, just a simple touch. But when Hange opened her mouth and a quiet moan escaped her, Levi knotted his fists into her shirt, pulling her harder against him.

He felt shivers run down his spine, his knees were getting wobbly, but he didn’t stop, not until he was completely out of breath.

“Jeez,” Hange whispered, when they broke apart. “I knew you were good, but I could have never imagined that.”

“You thought about kissing me?” Levi asked dizzily. His heart hammered inside his chest and his hands trembled with desire to touch her again.

“Yeah,” Hange laughed, not an ounce of shame. “Many times.”

“Then why—” Levi glared at her. “The last time we spoke, I wanted to kiss you.”

“I know,” Hange nodded.

“Why did you push me away then?”

“I got scared,” she answered simply and honestly. “No one has ever made me feel like this before, and I was confused about it.”

“And what changed?”

“Remember what I told you? About living my life the way I want it? Well,” Hange spread her hands. “I like how you make me feel, and I very much like you, so why should I deprive myself of that?”

“So that’s it?” Levi asked. “It’s that simple?”

Hange shrugged, her lips curving into a grin. “Yeah, for me it is.”

Levi raked his hands through his hair. “I need… to think about it.”

“Sure,” she softly patted his shoulder. Her understanding, kindness and acceptance bewildered Levi beyond words. “Take all the time you need. I’m not pressuring you into anything.”

“This thing between us— what if I agree to it?” Levi looked up at her, his eyes desperate for something he couldn’t name. “How would that even work? We probably won’t see each other again.”

“We don’t really have to say goodbye,” she mused. “We can… work together?”

“I’m an officer of the navy,” Levi reminded her.

“And I’m only a part-time pirate,” Hange said cheekily. “I mean we both work for Erwin anyway.”

“And I won’t have to give my ship to you…” Levi agreed, feeling uncharacteristically giddy. What if… what if that actually can work?

“I can help you get rid of violent criminals and—”

“And I can help you travel around the world,” he finished.

“Mm,” Hange smiled. It was the brightest smile Levi had ever seen on her face. “So does that mean you agree to cooperate?”

“Your terms don’t sound that awful,” a small smile tugged at Levi’s own lips. “I think we should seal our deal.”

And with that, he wrapped his hands around her and kissed her once again.

***

A part-time pirate was also an exceptional thief. However, it wasn’t Levi’s ship that was stolen.

It was his heart.

#pirate!au!!!!!!#writing it was extremely fun!!!!#btw i'll get to all of your prompts about ch132 soon!!!#at least i hope so.....#had the busiest of weeks!!!! and even busier weekend awaits #snk #levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi and hanji #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #hange zoë #levi x hange #snk fanfiction #aot

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

Text

Hello everyone! Today is the one year anniversary of my favorite fic I’ve written (so far), Puzzle Pieces! I thought I’d give a full length director’s commentary to commemorate the occasion.

Spoilers for the fic below!

The idea for this fic stemmed from a few things. I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of a soulmate au where colors appear on your skin when you first touch your soulmate(s). I think I initially encountered this in a newsies fic that I’ve since lost track of that was heavily focused on platonic soulmates. I liked this convention because the possibilities for multiple soulmates are endless and I like the idea of colorful splotches on people. I also think that identifying soulmates via touch rather than the first sentence they say or some sort of other identifier gives a lot of opportunity for relationships to grow and develop before they know that they’re soulmates. I am always a little bothered when soulmate aus have people fall right into a relationship and kissing and intense emotions right away when the two people don’t know anything about each other. This seemed like a way to combat that a little, but I’ll speak more on that later.

The Beginnings

The first record I have of this fic is a message I sent to Helen on May 8, 2020. The fic was very much only in the idea stages then, as I took over three more months to write it and wrote Too Close to See during that time. A google doc for the fic wasn’t started until July 20, 2020, and it was titled “soulmate colors au.” My method for writing is going in order these days, and for this particular fic there wasn’t a specific scene that I started with in mind. I really was just going or it and making it up as I went, chugging along and seeing what happened.

The Colors

A pretty significant part of this fic is the colors. When I figured out that colors would appear on people when they touched, I knew that figuring out who had what color would be very important. Initially I was going to have each pairing have their own color (so for example cashton would both leave blue on each other but malum would both leave green on each other) but I quickly decided that I didn’t like that and that each individual should have a color that they leave, instead. I sent a message to Bella asking what colors she thought the boys would be, but I can’t find that message anymore and know that while it was similar it wasn’t quite right. Here’s some reasoning behind each of the boys’ colors:

Michael: I went with red not just because of the iconic red hair, but because it’s a pretty loud and brash color. Michael (especially when he was younger) doesn’t really filter things, wears a decent amount of his personality on his sleeve, and first reaction that said red to me

Calum: Calum has always been forest green. This is partially influenced by the empahty hoodie, even though it’s a bit brighter than the green in my mind for him here, but I also think green is a very dependable, stable color. (I used that color symbolism in one of my fall out boy fics years ago lol) It reminds me of pine trees, and I think Calum can give off that same sense of reliability in weathering the seasons. It’s a quieter color but can really pop next to another one. It also worked out nicely that Calum and Michael’s colors were compliments

Luke: Luke gets gold because he is a sunshine boy! Luke actually was the person I had the most trouble with, because I was flipping between gold, a lighter blue, or pink. Pink ultimately was too close to red to make me be able to visualize what the marks looked like on each boy to my satisfaction. It just looked ugly and clashing. I went with gold because there is a lot of outward brightness in Luke. He’s the kind of person where if he’s happy everyone else gets a bit happier, and gold also seemed fitting for the eventual shift into a rockstar and the amount of talent he has

Ashton: Ashton gets purple, but a deeper purple. Dynamic but still relatively stable, has a lot of depth. Purple is a secret color, but it’s still beautiful and it draws people in. When I visualize it it ends up being a really dark shade, but in reality he’s probably more of a royal purple than a plum purple. I feel bizarrely passionate about his color specifically. I don’t know why that is.

The colors didn’t have any sort of influence on the fic, but they were deliberately chosen.

The World of the Fic: Chosen Soulmates

So here’s the thing. I feel very strongly about love being a conscious decision that people make over and over. It takes work. It takes a deliberate commitment.

Soulmate aus kind of negate that.

So, how do you fix this? Well, I did that by having these marks not necessarily indicate soulmates. The way that the marks are described in the fic is that they indicate how easy it should be to love someone and how compatible two people are. It doesn’t automatically mean that you’ll adore them forever and never leave their side. You still need to put in the work. (Luke shows this early on when Michael asks if he loves Calum and he says “I don’t think I know him well enough for that yet. I know I will, because the colors say it should be easy and I want to, but not like you do.” He has made the decision to work toward loving Calum, but he knows that just having the colors doesn’t immediately make them love each other.) In that way, it almost isn’t a soulmate au, at least not in the traditional way. Things aren’t inevitable. There is still an element of choice.

This was also shown with Ashton. I don’t remember when I made the decision to give Ashton a Tragic Background with his dad, but I know it was relatively early because by the time I wrote his introduction I knew that would happen. I wanted to give a bit more of a reason for his hesitation to let them touch him, which I was already including because Ashton has always been the least touchy of the band, and I saw this as another opportunity to show that necessity of choice. It’s sweeter to me for the boys to choose each other rather than to just be stuck with each other, and if Ashton hadn’t actually been a soulmate of theirs then I wanted there to be the assurance that they could still love him just as much, because all love is chosen.

In the end, having a broken soulbond in Ashton’s past was a good way to accomplish all of that. It’s heartbreaking to not be chosen despite the fact that it should be easy, but once Ashton accepts that Michael, Calum, and Luke are vehemently choosing him with or without the soulmark, it makes his acceptance of their love very sweet to me. He’s saying that he trusts them to put in the work to love him. The scene where he talks to Michael in the car and the scene where he accepts their touches and soulmarks are probably my two favorite scenes in the fic.

The World of the Fic: Touch

In a world where the first skin-on-skin contact can indicate whether it’ll be extremely easy for you to love someone, how common would touch be? Would we greet people with handshakes still? Would gloves be more common fashion accessories? Would touching someone be a Big Deal?

Hence, the First Touch was born!

I figured that, with touch possibly being a lot more significant in this world, people would be a lot more careful about whether they make skin-on-skin contact. Kids would be taught that it’s impolite to try to touch someone, to a more extreme degree than they are now. Handshakes simply are not a greeting anymore. Instead, sometimes the first contact people make is considered a big deal, seeing as it can indicate whether two people are soulmates or not.

I figured that Luke especially would enjoy important first touches, because he’s a sentimental sweetie. Of course, his first touch with Michael ended up being special simply because it was with each other :)

This also let me really lean into Ashton being touch-adverse. Now on top of not liking touch, he also has another reason to avoid it, which makes every cuddle moment after the first touch even better, because he’s definitely touch starved. The band cuddles him so much once they share the colors.

The World of the Fic: Platonic Soulmates

Guys. GUYS. I love platonic soulmates. I love them a lot. I feel very passionately about them. Romantic love is not the pinnacle of human love, and as someone who cannot at this point see myself with a romantic partner I really wanted to ensure that platonic soulmates were a thing. Given that information, it’s a no-brainer that I included them in this fic. Part of the appeal of this type of soulmate au was that it gave opportunity for more than one soulmate and more than one type of soulmate. As such, platonic, familial, and romantic soulmates could all be indicated by the colors. I also really liked that there wasn’t any sort of differentiation between the types of soulmates. One type of love isn’t hailed over the others. It’s an even playing field here.

That was one of the things that immediately drew me to this type of prompt, actually. I wanted to write a fic about Michael parsing through his emotions and figuring out what he feels for Calum. The difference between platonic and romantic love has always been very interesting to me, because I find that the line can be pretty blurry personally. The best way to do that was to give him a set of soulmates who he cares about equally but in different ways.

The following excerpt really is the theme of the story to me: “Calum is an old, comfortable sweater, but Luke is like a favorite pair of shoes. They both fit him perfectly. He feels more at home when either of them are around, and although the love he has for Calum is different, he thinks he could love Luke just as much.” Each of us love everyone we meet a little differently, because everyone is a different person, but different doesn’t mean unequal.

While the fic is about Michael figuring himself out, it’s equally a love story between all four of them. The moments where Michael finds out he’s soulmates with Luke and Ashton were just as important to me as the moment he and Calum get together, and I really wanted to be sure that each relationship had it’s time in the limelight. That’s ultimately why the idea of puzzle pieces became a theme (that I added on editing). I like the idea of all of them coming together to create something bigger than themselves. They fit. They click. They are better for it. The first time someone referred to this as an ot4 fic it threw me off, because only malum is romantic in it, but I really like that classification for it, because it is.

Asexual Representation (Accidentally)

I didn’t know I was writing Michael as ace until about 4 days before I posted the fic.

Looking back, that’s a little bit ridiculous, because I was brainstorming this fic for three and a half months and actively writing it for two before I realized. I believe there was a conversation in the discord about ace rep in fics (Bella and I think Heath were part of it, I can’t remember any other participants), and I thought to myself “hey I’m ace and like ace rep, Michael in the soulmate colors au could probably be ace.” Lo and behold, he already was. All I had to do was add a few sentences and finish the fic (I hadn’t written the scenes in England yet).

My asexuality definitely influenced the way I had been writing Michael’s confusion over his feelings for Calum. Part of the reason I myself see the line between platonic and romantic as so blurry is because I’m ace and so much of romantic love in media is tied in with sexual attraction. When you don’t feel sexual attraction, that can get confusing, especially since most strong feelings of love are depicted to be romantic.

While Michael and I had very, very different paths to figuring out our sexualities, I drew on my own experiences of ace-ness to write him. This was a bit more apparent in the sequel scene Bedroom Activities, but it ended up becoming a core of the story. I genuinely don’t know how I didn’t realize that’s what I was writing.

As an ace person, ace rep means a lot to me, given how little of it is in popular media. I’m glad I explored it so early on in my 5sos fic career, and I’m proud of this one.

Miscellaneous Things

The process of writing this story was, as I stated before, pretty linear. I went from the start to the end without a lot of planning. I specifically had no clue what was happening at the Hot Chelle Rae afterparty until it was happening. The kiss came out of no where. However, I want to point out that initially I thought this fic would be 8k. It is now my third longest fic ever written. I have never learned to correctly estimate how long a fic I’m writing will be.

I have a few various favorite lines, but one repeated theme I love is Michael craving Calum’s touch. I say he’s touch-starved for him twice, once relatively early on and once at the end, and I love that Calum’s touch has been a constant for Michael. They had their first touch accidentally and became best friends immediately in the way that little kids do, so Michael has always had him as a constant, tactile presence in his life. That’s why losing him to Luke scared him so much and why then gaining Luke and Ashton as soulmates is so good for him.

I really like referring to Michael, Luke, and Calum as a triangle. I first did it in this fic, but it’s now my tag for the three of them. Idk I just like how equally distributed a triangle is, all sides touching, no one left out.

Branching off of this, one of my favorite lines is when Ashton and Michael do their first touch: “The dark purple reminds him of spilling grape juice on his clothes as a kid, and when he collapses into Ashton he feels like they could have known each other at that age, too.” There is something so charming about meeting someone later and feeling like you’ve known them your whole life, and that was significant here because Michael has known Calum and Luke since they were younger (although Luke did come in the picture when they were tweens/young teens instead of kids). I wanted to be sure that although Michael, Calum, and Luke are the triangle, Ashton is an equal part of their soulmate group. He doesn’t have the same history, but that doesn’t matter because it feels like he does.

Luke’s obsession with soulmate statistics is a convenient plot device and partially a result of his mom being a math teacher. Above all things, it’s a manifestation of his desire to be loved. The guy just wants to be loved!!! and he wants others to be loved, too!!!

This is by far my favorite fic that I’ve written. It’s not perfect (there are for sure two lines that I would change, and I think I could’ve done things differently with the very slight OCD I gave Michael that manifested in his hand washing), but I love it dearly. It’s the type of fic that I would’ve loved to read, and the response to it has been wonderful. Thank you to everyone who has read it and special shout out to everyone who has made it to the end of this very long director’s notes <3

#my writing #puzzle pieces #soulmate colors au #director's cut #y'all i love this fic i just really do idk what to say #i could've talked a little about the possibilities of a sequal #since i do have some ideas for one #but i don't have drive to write it right now #and idk if adding on would take away from the original #it wouldn't be michael's story anymore. i feel like puzzle pieces told that rather well #it would be ashton's story this time #anyway that's neither here nor there i have many other projects first

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softranswolves · 3 years

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that haunting tenderness

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Rating: n/a for now (not sure where it'll go)

Ships: Laura/Stiles, Allison/Derek, past Jennifer/Laura

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 1449

"You can't be serious, Derek! You know what she's done." Her voice is dangerously low but Derek wills himself to not cave.

"I'm not saying I trust her. I'm saying we can use her." The fact that he won't meet Allison's eyes is telling; the bond they've created over the past few months solid enough that she sees his hesitation in going through with the plan.

"I'd say I can't believe you, but I know you and I know what this could mean. Just... don't forget what we've been through."

She walks away at that, turning her face so he can't see the tears, but he hears the slightest note of a whimper as she holds in a sob. Too many secrets and lies between the entire pack have made everyone a little frayed, tethers tying members together in ways they hadn't expected.

Stiles pulls Allison into a hug to help muffle her feelings and he watches Derek, knowing she and Cora have already given argument for him to not go through with this. He has tears of his own, but for his father, not the decision on the table. It's been a full day since Jennifer took his father, and while she has guaranteed he is still alive, he has no reason to take her word for it.

Derek, on the other hand, doesn't give himself the space to process his emotions in this moment, knowing the eclipse is almost upon them. He turns to face Jennifer instead, determination painted across his face. If only one other person can see through that facade, she's already refused to look at him in this moment.

"What do I need to do?"

The first thing Laura notices is the smell of rubbing alcohol, pungent and sharp, followed by the overwhelming mixture of fear, anxiety, and anger in the air. It's cloying enough to cover the secondary scents of animals, dogs and cats and a few gerbils. The combination doesn't make sense to her, clashes with what fragments she remembers. It feels like a bad dream, seeing half-turned Peter lunge at her, the full moon bright above their heads. But he couldn't be there, he was comatose, wounds still trying to heal despite his abilities. She groans in confusion, shaking her head, only to hear unfamiliar voices.

"She's awake," a female voice gasped, relief washing over it. "Derek, she's awake!"

Where is Derek?! Were they attacked? Is he safe? Laura's internal voice was frantic, the name pulling her out of her stupor.

"Might want to be a little quieter," a male voice said. It was familiar, too familiar, and Laura felt herself grow a little calmer despite the confusion. "She hasn't exactly been able to hear for a while."

Was that Stiles? Sheriff's son, Stiles? The hell was he doing here?

"Take it easy, this is going to be a bit of a slow process," a different female voice chimed in. This one sounded closest, maybe a foot from Laura's ear. She had to be mistaken, there was no way she was hearing who she thought she was. "You're probably a bit confused, but you have your family here. I think they'd like to say hello."

Family? As in more than Derek? What the hell is going on?

Laura makes a few unintelligible sounds, her mouth feeling like it's full of cotton. She awkwardly moves her tongue to lick her lips and is surprised by just how dry they are before a hand gently holds the back of her head, pushing up slightly to press a water bottle to her mouth.

"C'mon now, Laura, you can do this," the same male voice from before says. She forces herself to swallow a sip, and then another and another after that. "There you go."

The entire situation is starting to feel more and more bizarre, but she can't communicate that. She feels like she's stuck underwater, all of her senses damped yet present still. More sounds try to fight their way out of her mouth, and she's struggling against her own body until she feels a breath against her chest, the feeling of someone leaning close to her mouth to hear what she's trying to say, a steadying hand pressed firmly against her shoulder to keep her from moving.

"Der-, where'she?! Whe-" It's a murmur, the words slurring together, but it has fire behind it.

"Oh god," she hears a deeper voice chime in. Heavy footsteps follow as the voice's owner comes closer at an apparent run. "Laura? Laura, I'm right here." She can feel the distant touch of someone holding her hand in theirs, pressing a kiss to the pack of it.

"Der'k?" She questions. It doesn't sound like him, but nothing else is right either. Her body aches ferociously as she wills herself to turn in the voice's direction, practically falling off the bed until he catches her form, letting her curl her head against his chest.

"I'm here, Laura. Can you hear me? I'm not going anywhere." He wraps an arm around her, cradling her head, and her heart finally settles, still anxious, but at least Derek is alive.

"Are you kidding me?! What the hell were you thinking?" Laura's voice echoes in the house, Alpha tenor intermingled with human outrage.

Stiles widens his eyes as he pivots on the spot and walks back into the kitchen, making a slashing motion across his throat to ward off Derek's approach. The latter is sipping on a coffee, classic Hale scowl a seemingly permanent fixture on his face.

"They're at it again," Stiles whispers dramatically.

It's only been a day but already Laura is livid with both Jennifer and Derek, incredulous that they would tamper with death so blatantly. At this point, they're all anxiously waiting for the full moon, unsure if Laura will react the same way as she once would.

"I was thinking it would help save your kid brother! Once upon a time you'd do anything for him." The words cut like ice coming from Jennifer's mouth, and Laura is stunned for a moment.

"And how exactly would that include letting my ex prey on him? Just because he didn't recognize this face instead of Julia's didn't give you the right to manipulate him into this." Her voice is lowered, a sign that she is struggling with control.

"You know full well that we're connected, Laura. It's how we met all those years ago."

"His unintentional blood sacrifice on the Nemeton does not equate some fucked up bond, and you know it. Yes, you became entangled in the Hale family, and yes, I once loved you. But I don't even recognize you anymore, Julia." She narrows her eyes in warning, flashing the red, before stalking outside.

"Are you kidding me?" She grumbles, and Derek and Stiles follow her out to see Deaton standing on the porch. He gives an awkward little wave and Laura rolls her eyes.

Rather than addressing the man, she turns back to Derek, who backs up a few steps. He's been avoiding too much direct contact with her, a sister now in her body from eight years ago. Her mind may have caught up, but it's still strange seeing her like this.

"Did you call him?" It's a direct question, and she doesn't try to add any softness to it like she's done so far with him.

"I just figured - he knows a lot, okay? Mom trusted him, but she never even knew Jennifer. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Stiles watches the siblings from the side, never having seen Derek quite like this. He defers to Laura, which makes sense, but he's also talking to her like he thinks she'll crack, almost like he's afraid of her. He knows it makes sense, what with Peter's manipulation to bring himself back to life. Still, though, this isn't the Derek Stiles thought he knew or remembered.

"I'm fine," Laura grumbles. "Yes, I was dead, and no, I still don't want to see our psychotic uncle who killed me. I may be in younger me's body but I'm fine."

"Yeah, you are," Stiles chimes in, lopsided smirk on his face. Laura just rolls her eyes in response and shakes her head before stepping off the porch.

"I need a little alone time, okay? I'll be back, I promise." She looks to Derek at this and Stiles can feel the way he relaxes at the reassurance. "I just need to breathe by myself for a bit."

Derek and Stiles both nod as she walks on, seeing her give Deaton a small smile and squeeze his hand before shifting into a wolf mid-run and disappearing into the preserve.

#*fics #that haunting tenderness #laura hale #staura #dallison

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wazafam · 3 years

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K-dramas have a theme for about anything a viewer is looking for. There are suspense, dramas, thrillers, and highly popular love stories. Some may not want to admit it, but love stories involving falling in love with the boss is a guilty pleasure.

RELATED: 10 Best Time Travel K-Dramas, Ranked (According To IMDb)

Maybe it involves the shy new girl who catches the eye of the handsome and rich CEO. In some cases, the power play is reversed. Regardless, K-dramas have a way of hooking in audiences with their dynamic storylines. If looking for some new K-dramas to add to your roster of must-watch, look no further. Here's a list to get you started.

Updated on April 22nd, 2021, by Gabriela Silva: There's a storyline for every K-drama fan to enjoy from thrillers and the supernatural to unique romances. To add a level of intrigue to a love story what better way than to center it around the blossoming love of a worker and their boss. K-dramas are no stranger to the storyline theme and are quite popular. It's a fairytale story that fans wish happened in real life.

15 Oh My Ghost (2015)

Oh My Ghost is one of the most recognized supernatural dramas. It focuses on three main characters and the main love story is between a young woman and her boss who's a famous chef. There's a catch. Na Bong-Sun (Park Bo-Young) is shy and timid and has a huge crush on her boss. She can also see spirits.

One day, she's possessed by a young lustful female spirit who believes the only way to go to the afterlife is by losing her virginity. Being the puppet of the ghost, Bong-Sun now becomes a firecracker and confident woman who catches her boss's eye.

14 Radiant Office (2017)

The 2017 drama, Radiant Office has multiple elements that make it a fun boss-employee storyline. Eun Ho-Won (Go Ah-Sung) is down on her luck looking for work and attempts suicide. At the hospital, she learns she terminally ill but succeeds at landing a job.

With a new purpose in life, Ho-Won takes on her new job with full force. Her superior and boss, Seo Woo-Jin (Ha Seok-Jin) thinks she's a huge pain in the neck and often bickers. Their odd relationship might just turn into something more.

13 Protect The Boss (2011)

This K-drama doesn't have the typical boss characteristics seen in other shows. Protect the Boss centers around Cha Ji-Heon (Ji Sung), a childish director at DN Group. He soon meets his match in his new secretary, Noh Eun-Seol (Choi Kang-Hee).

Eun-Seol is determined to not lose her first professional job and gives it her all. Her kind and spunky demeanor start to attract Ji-Heon. That's not all, the drama has a love triangle between Ji-Heon and his rival and cousin, Cha MuWwon (Kim Jae-Joong).

12 Master's Sun (2013)

Master's Sun is another K-drama with a supernatural base. Tae Kong-Shil (Gong Hyo-Jin) gains the ability to see ghosts after a bizarre accident. Her abilities leave her unable to keep a solid job. Kong-Shil works as a cleaning lady at Kingdom's, a conglomerate company, shopping mall.

She soon meets the company's cold and distant CEO, Joo Joong-Won (So Ji-Sub). In a turn of events, whenever Long-Shil touches Joong-Won, the ghosts disappear. After some begging, Joong-Won stays by her side in return for her help in recovering something stolen from him.

11 Jugglers (2017)

2017 was a good year to binge-watch multiple boss-employee relationship K-dramas. Jugglers followed the trend and revolved around a secretary and her cold as ice boss. Jwa Yoon-Yi (Baek Jin-Hee) is a devoted and diligent secretary whose put on hold when her boss's wife accuses her of having an affair with her husband.

On the other end, Nam Chi-Won (Daniel Choi) is assigned to be the managing director at Yoon-Yi's company. Yoon-Yi becomes his secretary. Chi-Won suffers from childhood trauma and is indifferent to socializing. After Yoon-Yi gets drunk at a dinner party, Chi-Won takes her home and realizes she lives in the place where his trauma originated. Seeing the 'tenant wanted' sign on her door, he becomes her neighbor to overcome his past.

10 My Secret Romance (2017)

What happens when you meet your one-night stand three years later? To make matters worse he happens to be your new boss. Lee Yoo-Mi (Song Ji-Eun) is insecure about herself but has to attend her mother's weddings. She meets Cha Jin-Wook (Sung Hoon). They're less than cordial with one another but soon start to feel an attraction and spend the night.

Yoo-mi is unaware of who he really is and flees the following morning. Years later she is hired to be his nutritionist. Jin-Wook changed his ways after that night and takes over his father's company and never forgot Yoo-mi. He tries to romance her and get to admit her feelings for him. Interwoven is a storyline involving Yoo-mi's baby brother that is blown out of proportion on who the father is.

9 Rich Man (2018)

Rich Man might also be known for its original Japanese television drama version, Rich Man, Poor Woman. The K-drama was a 2018 remake that did well on television. The show takes an interesting route with the main male character. The CEO of a popular IT company has a facial recognition disability.

This has caused him the inability to recognize his first love. At an employee recruitment meeting, he picks on a particular girl with photogenic memory. She stands up to the mean CEO and says something that catches his interest. She ends up working for the company and helping the CEO.

8 Strong Girl Bong-soon (2017)

Strong Girl Bong-Soon is a highly popular K-drama and has a lot of the same characteristics of an employee falling in love with their boss. A young girl is born with unexplainable superhuman strength. It's more of a family trait. This leads to an intriguing storyline.

After beating up some bullies, she is hired by a rich CEO of a gaming company. While having a crush on her friend, she starts to realize who she really has feelings for. All while protecting her CEO from a possible threat and kidnapper.

7 My Shy Boss (2017)

Sometimes opposites attract in the most bizarre way possible. My Shy Boss or Introverted Boss follows the tumultuous relationship between a CEO and his new employee. The CEO of a public relations firm is the exact opposite of what one expects.

RELATED: 10 Best K-Drama “Second Lead” Couples That Every Fan Rooted For

He's highly introverted, shy, sensitive, and can come off as cold. On the other hand, the company hires a new employee who is extroverted, loud, and not afraid to speak her mind. She takes an interest in the CEO and wants to uncover who he really is under his hood.

6 Lucky Romance (2016)

Audiences will surely have a good laugh with this K-drama with its peculiar antics. In Lucky Romance, a 26-year-old attractive woman is highly superstitious believing she was born unlucky. She follows every precaution possible and consults a shaman about her sister. The only way to save her? She has to sleep with a man born in the year of the tiger.

She soon meets a CEO and genius game developer. Who happens to fit her criteria. Their personalities clash, but Shim Bo-Nui (Hwang Jung-Eum) is determined to see save her sister even if it means wooing her boss.

5 Level Up (2019)

Level Up follows a lot of the typical boss-employee storyline details; mixed in with some drama. This CEO specializes in helping reconstruct failing companies. He takes on a company called Joybuster despite his previous childhood trauma with gaming.

As the new CEO of the company, he soon meets its head designer. A passionate and sweet young woman clashes heads with a cold and meticulous boss. Will they put their differences aside and complete their new game and maybe fall in love?

4 Hotel Del Luna (2019)

Hotel Del Luna is a fan favorite amongst K-dramas. It mixes the supernatural with some dramatic romance. Jang Man-Wol (Lee Ji-Eun) is moody and bad-tempered for having to run Hotel Del Luna for the past thousands of years. She must atone for her indiscretions and change her attitude.

The hotel is only visible to souls, ghosts, and humans at special times of the year. Things heat up when the hotel gets a new general manager due to a contract signed by his father. Gu Chan-sung (Yeo Jin-goo) is a stoic MBA graduate who has to confront his fear of ghosts. He soon changes his demeanor and helps melt Man-Wol's heart and keep her safe.

3 She Was Pretty (2015)

She Was Pretty is a fun roller coaster ride for anyone who watches. Fans of Parasite will recall the lead actor in this drama. Two childhood friends grow up on the opposite ends of the spectrum for both success and looks. Kim Hye-jin (Hwang Jung-Eum) ended up having her father's red cheeks and frizzy hair, while Ji Sung-Joon (Park Seo-Joon) becomes a strikingly handsome man.

RELATED: 10 K-Dramas With A Vampire Storyline, Ranked (According To IMDb)

They decide to reconnect but Hye-jin backs out seeing how much they've changed. Instead, he mistakes her best friend for her creating a fake love story. Sung-Joon then becomes her boss at her magazine company unaware of who she really is. Will Sung-Joon recognize his first love and fall head over heels? Or will her co-worker woo her away?

2 What's Wrong With Secretary Kim (2018)

What's Wrong With Secretary Kim is at the top of the list and regarded as one of the best romance K-dramas when it comes to the employee-boss dynamic. Kim Mi-so (Park Min-young) has been Lee Young-Joon's (Park Seo-Joon) right-hand woman for years as his secretary. Her announcement of resignation doesn't sit well with her cold and professional boss.

He then starts to see her in a different light beyond the professional. There's jealousy, romantic gestures, and changing of heart in his drama. Not to mention there are some steamy kissing scenes. Young-Joon will do whatever he can to keep Mi-so in his life.

1 My Private Life (2019)

Park Min-Young is back as Sun Deok-Mi in My Private Life. The show is based on a popular Korean webtoon. Deok-Mi is a talented and highly regarded art curator who harbors a secret. She's an obsessed fangirl. Her secret can ruin her career at the museum. An acclaimed but retired artist, Ryan Gold (Kim Jae-Wook) becomes the museum's new boss.

After some rumors spread, Gold and Doek-Mi must pretend to date to stop scrutiny towards her favorite idol and new museum client. Fake dating soon starts to blossom into real love. Deok-Mi must try and let go of her secret fan page and obsession.

NEXT: The 10 Best K-Dramas With More Than One Season, Ranked (According To IMDb)

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thekillerssluts · 4 years

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Will Butler explains how his Harvard degree developed into his second solo album

“Yeah, it’s terrifying,” Will Butler says, pondering how it feels to be releasing music away from the umbrella of Arcade Fire.

“It’s the classic thing about all writers,” he continues. “The creative process makes them wanna puke the whole time they’re writing something, then they read something back and it makes them feel worse, then a year later they read it and think ‘yeah, it’s okay’. It’s a glorious experience, but it really makes your stomach hurt.”

On the one hand Will Butler is well accustomed to this writing process, being a multi-instrumentalist in the Canadian indie-rock band fronted by brother Win - Arcade Fire. But on his own terms, it’s an entirely new process. Butler’s second solo album Generations arrives five years after his debut Policy, a collection that rattled with a ramshackle charm and what he describes now as a ‘consciously very unproduced’ sound. Arcade Fire wound down from their Everything Now tour in September 2018, leaving Butler with the last two years of playtime. Most musicians, particularly those accustomed to big album cycles, set aside their downtime for family or other musical projects. Somehow Butler’s managed to do both while also completing a masters degree in Public Policy at Harvard.

“I went to school for a variety of reasons but there was an artistic side to it too,” he says. “I have always tried to let music and lyrics emerge from the world that I’m in; you fertilise the soil and see what grows. It was a way to better understand where we are, how we got here and what's going on. You know, ‘where am I from? What's going to happen?’” Both of these questions explored in his degree are used as fuel for Generations.

It’s easy to imagine an album by somebody who’s just pursued a Public Policy MSt to form in reams of political commentary, probably set to an acoustic guitar. However, Butler instead engages character portraits soundtracked by a broad range of thrilling sonics. Opener “Outta Here” is shrouded by a monstrous bass that lurks beneath the depths of the instrumentation before bursting out midway through. “Got enough things on my plate without you talking about my salvation,” he screams.

While the cage-rattling “Bethlehem” is mania underpinned by a thrashing guitar and bubbling synths that help lift the track to boiling point.While there’s no current world leaders namechecked or any on-the-nose political commentary across the LP, the angst of its contents is instantly tangible, backed by the intellect of somebody who’s spent the past few years studying the ins and outs of government processes. A perfect combination, you could say.

This fuel was partly discovered through Butler reconnecting with the music that defined his teenage years: namely Bjork, The Clash and Eurythmics. While these influences certainly slip into frame across Generations, they were paired with something of an unlikely muse: “I got into this habit of listening to every single song on the Spotify Top 50 every six weeks,” Butler explains. “So many of them are horrible, terrifying and just awful but there’s something inspiring about how god damn avant garde the shittiest pop music is now. Just completely divorced from any sense of reality - it’s just layers upon layers upon layers - it’s amazing. It’s like Marcel Duchamp making a pop hit every single song.”

We turn from current music to current events. Navigating Covid-19 with his wife and three kids in their home of Brooklyn, a majority of 2020 has been caught up in family time for Butler. “The summer’s been easier because everybody’s outside, whereas in spring it was like ‘it’s family time because we have to lock our doors as there's a plague outside.’” While being surrounded by the trappings of lockdown since his second solo album Generations was completed in March, the album itself wriggles with the spirit of live instrumentation, which at this point seems like some sort of relic from a bygone era."I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people."

The source of this energy can be traced back to the way the songs came together; they were forged and finessed at a series of shows in the early stages of the project. “It just raises the stakes. You can tell how good or how dumb a lyric is when you sing it in front of a hundred people,” he reflects. “It’s like ‘are you embarrassed because what you’re saying is true?’ or ‘is it just embarrassing?’ It’s a good refiner for that stuff. I think eventually rediscovering this album back in the live setting would be amazing - we’re a really great live band, it’s a shame to not be in front of people.”

Like his day job in Arcade Fire, Butler’s solo live group is something of a family affair - both his wife and sister-in-law feature in the band, alongside Broadway's West Side Story star, and the student of the legendary Fela Kuti drummer, Tony Allen. Together this eclectic mix of musicians conjures an infectious spirit through the raw combination of thundering synths and pedal-to-the-metal instrumentation; an apt concoction indeed for lyrics that are attempting to unhatch the bamboozling questions that surround our current times.

The timing for Butler’s decision to study Public Policy couldn’t have been more perfect, with his course starting in the Fall of 2016. “I was at Harvard for the election which was a really bizarre time to be in a government school, but it was great to be in a space for unpacking questions like ‘my god, how did we get here?!’” he reflects, with a note of mockery in the bright voice.

“I had a course taught by a professor named Leah Wright Rigueur. The class was essentially on race in America but with an eye towards policy. The class explored what was going to happen in terms of race under the next president. The second to last week was about Hilary Clinton and the last week was about Donald Trump. We read riot reports - Ferguson in 2015, Baltimore in 2016, the Detroit uprisings in the ‘60s and Chicago in 1919 - it's certainly helping me understand the last 5 years, you know. Just to be in that context was very lucky.”

As we’ve seen with statues being toppled, privileges being checked and lyrics of national anthems being interrogated in recent months, history is a complex, labyrinthine subject to navigate requiring both ruthless self-scrutiny and a commitment to the long-haul in order to correct things. The concept of Generations shoots from the same hip employing character portraits to engage in the broader picture.

The writing, at times, is beamed from a place of disconnect (“had enough of bad news / had enough of your generation”), from a place of conscious disengagement (“I’m not talking because I don’t feel like lying / if you stay silent you can walk on in silence”) and from a place of honest self-assessment (“I was born rich / three quarters protestant / connections at Harvard and a wonderful work ethic”).

“I’m rooted in history to a fault,” he says. “My great grandfather was the last son of a Mormon pioneer who’d gone West after being kicked out of America by mob violence. He wanted to be a musician which was crazy - he got 6 months in a conservatory in Chicago before his first child was born. He always felt like he could have been a genius, he could of been writing operas but he was teaching music in like tiny western towns and he had all these kids and he made them be a family band and they were driving around the American west before there were roads in the deserts - literally just driving through the desert! He would go to these small towns and get arrested for trying to skip bills and just live this wild existence.”

Butler’s grandma, meanwhile, was just a child at this point. She went on to become a jazz singer with her sisters and married the guitar player Alvino Rey. “The fact that me and my brother are musicians is no coincidence,” he smiles. “It’s not like I decided to be a musician, it’s down to decisions that were made at the end of the 19th century that have very clearly impacted where I am today. The musical side of it is very beautiful, it is super uncomplicated and a total joy to have a tradition of music in our family...but also in the American context - which is the only context I know - it's also these very thorny inheritances from the 19th century and beyond that influence why my life is like it is.

“For me it’s like, ‘I made my money because my grandpa was a small business owner’ or ‘my grandpa was a boat builder and got a pretty good contract in WW2 and was able to send his kids to college’. Both of which are so unpoetic and unromantic but it is an important thing to talk about, that's a personal political thing to talk about; there's horrifying and beautiful aspects there.”

The lament of “I’m gonna die in a hospital surrounded by strangers who keep saying they’re my kids” on “Not Gonna Die” could well be croaked by somebody on the tail end of a life lived on the American Dream. At times, Butler plays the characters off against each other, like on “Surrender,” which chronicles two flawed characters going back and forth played by Butler’s lead vocals and his female backing singers that undermine his memory; “I remember we were walking” is cut up with the shrug of “I dunno” and “maybe so”. “I found having the backing voices there gave me something to play with,” he explains. “Either something threatening to the main character or something affirming to the main character, just providing another point of view.”

Elsewhere, “I Don’t Know What I Don’t Know” explores the feeling of being unsuitably equipped to unravel the complexities that surrounds us day-to-day. “The basic emotion of that song is very much ‘I don’t know what I can do’ which is an emotion we all have,” he ponders. “There’s also the notion that follows that, like ‘maybe don’t even tell me what to do because it’s going to be too overwhelming to even do anything’.”

Some of these portraits materialised in the aftershows Butler began hosting while on Arcade Fire’s Everything Now tour which found him instigating conversations and talks by local councilman, politicians and activists on local issues. “On some of the good nights of the aftershow town halls, you’d feel that switch away from despair and into action,” he says smiling. “The step between despair and action is possible, that sentiment isn’t spelled out lyrically on the record but it’s definitely there spiritually.”

“I learned anew what a treasure it is to have people in a room. Getting humans in a room can be absurd. And we were having from 5,000 to 15,000 people in a room every night, most of them local. I’m very comfortable with art for art’s sake; I think art is super important and it’s great people can like music that's not political. It was sort of like ‘well we’re here and I know a lot of you are thinking about the world and you’re thinking about what a shit show everything is. You want to know what we can do and I also want to know what we can do!’ So I put on these after shows.”"The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change."

Butler would find a suitable location near the Arcade Fire gig through venue owners who were often connected to the local music and comedy scenes to host these events. “The dream lineup would be to have a local activist and a local politician talking about a local issue because that’s the easiest way to make concrete change. Arguably, the most important way is through the city council and state government. The New York state government is in Albany, New York. The shit that happens in Albany is all super important so I wanted to highlight that and equip people with some concrete levers to pull.

“In Tampa we had people who were organizing against felon disenfranchisement, like if you’ve been convicted of a felon you couldn’t vote in Florida, and something absurd like 22% of black men in Florida couldn’t vote and there were people organising to change that - this was in 2018 - and you could just see people being like ‘holy shit, I didn't even know this was happening!’

“These were not topics I’m an expert in - it’s like these are things that are happening. The thought was trying to engage, I’m sad to not be doing something similar this Fall, I mean what a time it would have been to go around America.”

Understandably the looming 2020 election is on Butler’s radar. “It doesn't feel good,” he sighs. “I’ve never had any ability to predict, like 2 weeks from now the world could be completely different from what it is today. There was always a one-in-a-billion chance of the apocalypse and now it's like a one-in-a-million chance which is a thousand times more likely but also unlikely. It’s going to be a real slog in the next couple of years on a policy side, like getting to a place where people don’t die for stupid reasons, I’m not even talking about the coronavirus necessarily just like policy in general. Who knows, it could be great but it seems like it's going to be a slog.”

There’s a moment on the closing track “Fine”, a stream-of-consciousness, Randy Newman-style saloon waltz, where Butler hits the nail on the head. “George [Washington], he turned to camera 3, he looked right at me and said...I know that freedom falters when it’s built with human hands”. It’s one of the many lyrical gems that surface throughout the record but one that chimes with an undeniable truth. It’s the same eloquence that breaks through as he touches on the broad ranging subjects in our conversation, always with a bright cadence despite the gloom that hangs over some of the topics.

The live show is without a doubt Arcade Fire’s bread and butter. While Butler questions how realistic the notion of getting people in packed rooms in the near future is, he reveals the group are making movements on LP6. “Arcade Fire is constantly thinking about things and demoing, it's hard to work across the internet but at some point we’ll get together. It probably won’t be much longer than our usual album cycle,” he says.

You only have to pick out one random Arcade Fire performance on YouTube to see Butler’s innate passion bursting out, whether it’s early performances that found him and Richard Reed Parry adorning motorbike helmets annihilating each other with drumsticks to the 1-2-3 beat of “Neighbourhood #2 (Laika)” or the roaring “woah-ohs” that ascend in the anthem of “Wake Up” every night on tour. It’s an energy that burns bright throughout our conversation and across Generations.

https://www.thelineofbestfit.com/features/interviews/arcade-fires-will-butler-new-solo-record-generations

#Arcade Fire #generations #will butler #interview #hq

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20thcentury-kylo · 4 years

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Tides Of Memory

(prologue)

Well here it is- sorry this has taken me so long, I'm not really the best artist n such but here is The prologue chapter to Tides Of Memory

Enjoy~

Sometimes.... he still dreams of their words...

"Just breathe- it'll all be fine🎶"

Delicate melodies offset by somber guitar strums... The lyrics plague his memory, repeating in endless loops. Strangely enough he feels something similar in his current state.

Alas the boy assumes that's all they are- bizarre, sorrowful dreams.

To Kiome, Ebisu is the closest thing he has to a home. The smiles of his rosé haired boyfriend made him feel more at home, than any foster family could. Ebisu was his tether, the source of the light in his eyes- He was without a doubt the love of Kiome's life. Even more so now as gazes up at the aspiring musician, listening to the slow harmony of the boy's soft tones...

"I knocked on your bedroom door, and waited for you to enter~" He knows to cherish these moments, etch them deep within his heart to captivate him forever... Ebisu with his eyes closed absently guiding his hand from note to note, sings the soft tune. The song which he curiously named San Diego, is one of goodbyes, and wistful memories. Yet he plays it in such a way that one cannot help but to have hope, it's a feeling Kiome understands all too well.

"I bought you a crimson rose, smelled just like you did~" The feeling washes over him in a soft murmur, and the boy decides that he should do something about the space between them. Face to face, heart to heart- his lips utter nothing but his eyes speak a thousand ballads in a silent attempt to intertwine his soul even further with his beloved. A slightly shaken hand reaches to cradle the musician's cheek, the subsequent blush from Ebisu spurring him on further. Their lips meet in a soft meld, fluttering beats pulling one another closer. And amidst the safe stillness of that lamp lit bedroom- he feels... they both feel- complete.

---

"Daring- I love you🎶~"

Learning of his power, and his true destiny.. Kiome almost lost it all. The fear of losing what little he had in froze him- What if he couldn't win, what if he couldn't protect them all. Such worries cloud his mind, there is no confidence in the subtle whispers of his newly acquired sword. But of course not, they do not hold the voice of his beloved. So as the swordsman sits paled in moonlight, he thinks of nothing but their voice.

"If only we could fly across the nether~" A subtle smile of relief finds its way onto Kiome's expression. He scoots over, making room for Ebisu to sit with him.

"Hey... how are ya holdin up?" The question forces a sigh from his lips... they're trembling.

"I won't lie- I'm... scared out of my mind right now.." Ebisu reaches for his hand, and Kiome can feel the tremors in his soul calm at the contact. Gradually all the doubts he'd been suppressing float to the surface and out through his stuttered words.

"I-I just- don't wanna forget you, wherever I end up." They're on borrowed time, and he can hear each Jarring tick pass them by. Stray tears escape the poor boy's eyes, he's trying to stay strong, if not for himself then for Ebisu. His own depressing thoughts are cut short by the warm embrace of his partner.

"I Promise- You won't!!" It's a declaration that could pierce the heavens, Kiome notices that he's started to tear up as well yet says nothing.

Ebisu pulls back- flush faced yet Smiling nonetheless. His breaths are shaking, and his words flitter out sporadically, but Kiome knows- he knows and he couldn't be more thankful.

"No matter what happens to us- to our memories..." He's suddenly quiet, his features holding a wistful hope. Kiome can't help but awe at how beautiful he is.

"No matter what- every song I've written, every note, every memory... they'll be right here- etched in my heart.." Ebisu gazes at him with a look that peers straight into his core, he means this... And the embrace that follows is almost too poetic for words.

"Ditto~" Kiome swears on this life, and every past life he's apparently had- he'd never forget this for as long as his existence still burned.

---

The 1st thing that comes to him is the overwhelming burning stench as he looks upon the scene before him. They'd come for him. This was it- nowhere for Kiome to run. He steels himself with thoughts of his beloved, gripping his sword tighter.

"Darling~ I love you🎶~"

Ebisu was safe.. he'd made sure of that before ever considering this fated clash. If he survived this... he just might have to marry the ocean eyed musician. It gives him the will to move forward- When he survived this, he was definitely marrying him. The voices whispering from within his sword hum in agreement, giving him the confidence he needs to charge into danger. He couldn't die here- not when he had someone to live for.

The beast's endless roars are all but deaf to him. Kiome stands, eyes burning bright. This is it- do or die... His sword rests firmly in his grasp- his strength does not waver, even for a moment. Each step is another reminder of what he's fighting for- each strike he bears the shock in stride, like hell was he gonna fall here...

His body may betray his intentions- writhing with bloodied bruises and aching muscles.. But his heart can't give up now- his very soul screams out in defiance. The exception before him seems to hear this cry- as it stumbles back before giving a scream of its own.

And as he braces himself to fight on.. the words echo ever so clearly in his head

'Darling- I love you~"

"Kiome!! Please... stay with me-" He can't feel his body anymore...

Ebisu sits there- cradling the dying body of his beloved- blood covered, and practically torn to pieces... his eyes won't open.

"Kiome!!" Ebisu's presence is the only thing keeping him from letting go completely... He wants to see his face.. To tell him not to weep for the foolish..

"I'm here.." Opening his eyes sends surges of blinding pain through his retinas.. but the moment that pink hair and rosy cheeks come into view- such pain is all but forgotten. He can't hear the exception anymore- guess he must've won. Then again... at what cost.

"Why so sad.." Ebisu won't stop crying- and the sight of it brings tears to his own eyes. Suddenly the reality that he probably won't survive this hits him all at once, and it's only through sheer exhaustion that he doesn't break down weeping then and there. Instead he sighs with a shaky breath, and gazes into his beloved's eyes for what he thinks to be the last time...

"My time here is running short🎶" Ebisu's expression shifts, before he graces the dying boy with a tearful smile...

"Your kisses were my ambrosia🎶"Ebisu leans down and lays a soft kiss onto Kiome's forehead- Kiome can feel a tear drop ever so slowly...

"They melted into my skin🎶" A soft light begins to emerge from Kiome's core. This... was the end. He doesn't take his eyes off Ebisu for a moment- he'd burn the image of his beautiful face into his heart.. so he'd never forget..

"Darling... I love you"

The subtle morning light peaks through the dorm windows- rousing it's residents from slumber. He opens his eyes to find that they're wet with tears...

'Again huh-'Kiome has had the same dream for the 3rd time this week. Of places he's never been, of people he's never met... of love he's never felt. But they're just dreams- he muses to himself. They meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Yet as he prepares for the day- eating his breakfast that Shiro so graciously prepared and brushing his teeth before heading to class- a strangely familiar tune remains stuck in his head...

"I knocked on your bedroom door🎶~"He wonders where he could've heard it...

-PROLOGUE END-

Once again im really sorry for this taking so long- anywho i hope you enjoyed, i plan to update this semi frequently with a few drawings to complement each chapter (ReBlogs and Comments Are very much appreciated I wanna hear what you guys think uwu)

~Till Next Chapter~

#Im kinda nervous to hear what you guys think #i know the arts bad but i gave it my best uwu #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #fanart #mini comic #mc5 x ebisu #mc5 #kiome #Ebisu #Tides Of Memory #my art uwu #my artwork #artists on tumblr #slight au #atlas SanDiego

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karajaynetoday · 4 years

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these arms would not be taught to hold another's, 'cause we're the special two | ashton irwin

image credit

Hello tumblr pals! Hope you’re having a wonderful day. As promised, here’s a little epilogue for it’s not the pain they’re getting over, it’s the love. i’ve tried to make it as soft and loving as possible, because i feel that these characters deserve a bit of that after everything they’ve gone through. thanks for all of your support and feedback on this little series, it’s always going to be special to me, and i love knowing how much it has resonated with you <3

Here is Part One, Part Two, Part Three and Part Four if you’d like to revisit them first. This part is inspired a little by The Special Two by Missy Higgins, and the italics in the piece are lyrics from the song.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: mention of death of a parent, mention of exhaustion, anxiety, depression

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I've hardly been outside my room in days 'Cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays

It’d been two months or so since Ashton had driven away from you on that rainy, gloomy morning. You’d tried your best to push through the overwhelming loneliness that you felt once he’d gone, and you were back to being by yourself in your mother’s house again. Your siblings were pushing through their own grief by keeping busy and moving forward, making plans to move out and pursue university studies or travel the world, and it warmed your heart to know that they were going to be okay. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel like you were losing that sense of being needed that you’d held for so much of your life, and a sense of hopelessness was beginning to creep into its place.

This time around, the distance was made less painful by daily text messages and weekly video calls. You thought you’d feel awkward talking to Ashton through a screen, after such an intense time together in person over the last little while, but it felt so comforting and natural that neither of you ever missed a call. Ashton was somewhere in Europe, France maybe? And he’d be criss-crossing over the continent for the next few months. You saw the excitement in his eyes when you mentioned that you’d always wanted to visit Europe, Italy especially, but you stopped him mid-sentence when he offered to book you a flight. You weren’t ready to leave here, not yet. You just needed more time to feel like yourself again. Ashton reassured you and said he understood, like he always did, and that he would be waiting whenever you were ready.

When you're young you have this image of your life That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife

You’d started to feel increasingly out of sorts. At first the fatigue felt like an overdue episode of being burnt out, which was understandable given how draining your life had been lately. But then there were other mysterious symptoms too, that didn’t quite add up, so you managed to drag yourself out of bed and to a doctor’s appointment. They couldn’t diagnose you with anything unexpected, and there were murmurs of exhaustion, anxiety, depression, too much stress. They sent you on your way with referrals and prescriptions, and you spent the next few weeks being put on waiting lists and at appointments and trying new things, until slowly the haze began to lift. It didn’t clear entirely, and you knew from your past experiences that it would never totally fade, but you were able to get out of bed in the mornings for no other reason than because you wanted to, which was an achievement within itself.

The lawyers had dealt with your mother’s will swiftly, noting that the house and belongings were to be split equally amongst you and your siblings. After a few emotional days revisiting old belongings and the old memories that came with them, you’d all agreed that selling it and moving out to newer places was the best way forward. It would be hard to part with the place that you’d grown up in, and it’d be strange to come home to somewhere new, or celebrate Christmases or birthdays around a different kitchen table, but it also felt like that was exactly what your mother would have wanted for her loved ones: to cherish her memory by living their lives as brightly as she shone down on them.

But I will fight for you, be sure that I will fight Until we're the special two once again

The house sold quicker than you’d anticipated, and all of sudden you were surrounded by moving boxes with no real sense or desire to move them anywhere. Your heart had always belonged here, in the familiar streets and secret hideaways and creature comforts of home, but lately it had longed for something else. Something more. Some sort of adventure, some sort of change of scenery. It was one of those now or never moments, and you were torn over what to do. Stepping away and recognising that your family would be alright without you constantly by their side was a hard pill to swallow, but it was also so freeing.

One afternoon, Ashton’s mother had invited you out for coffee. You could tell she was keeping a watchful eye on you, no doubt out of loyalty to your mother and love for you, but you also had a suspicion that a certain son of hers had asked her to make sure you were doing okay. You were chatting away, talking about your dilemma about where to move house next, when she pulled a piece of paper out of her bag and slid it across the table. You immediately recognised it as Ashton’s tour itinerary, and four days off in Italy had been circled in pink highlighter.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“Absolutely not. I cannot fly to Europe, not now. I don’t have anywhere to live yet, and there’s forms to sign, and boxes to sort out, and…”

All she did was fix you with an amused stare, and you could see the mischievous glint in her eye that you’d seen in Ashton’s many a time before.

Within a matter of hours, your flight was booked. Your moving boxes would go to storage for now, and you could sort them out whenever it was that you returned. You’d been sworn to secrecy, and added to a WhatsApp group message of some people that you hadn’t spoken to in years, but they were thrilled to hear you were on your way. Apparently Ashton had been missing you much more than he’d let on in your video calls, and your heart leapt when you realised how soon you’d be reunited.

And we can only see each other, we'll breathe together

These arms will not be taught to need another's

'Cause we're the special two

The flights were long but uneventful, and before you knew it you were on your way to a hotel in Italy, trying not to bite your nails out of nerves. The band schedule had a few days off after today, but in their messages to you, Michael, Calum and Luke had explained that you were welcome to join the tour for as long as you’d like. It seemed silly, to feel so close to people who were virtually strangers, but they also felt like family, and you felt like you were ready to embrace something new.

The plan was to surprise Ashton after the show, because if you arrived beforehand, you knew he wouldn’t want to let you go when he was called to stage. You met Kat, the tour assistant, in the lobby, and she was so kind and warm that you felt immediately calmer in her presence. That was until the elevator doors opened onto the band’s floor, and she handed you a key card and wished you luck.

Fuck. This was happening. You’d just flown half way around the world to surprise someone that you were even officially in a relationship with. Who were you? It felt bizarre, and surreal, and so unlike you, but at the same time, something propelled your feet down the corridor. Your heart was pumping, and your hands were clammy, but your knock on the door was firm and strong. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply in the few moments you had to yourself before the door swung open, and Ashton stood in front of you for the first time in months.

Watching his reaction would’ve made you laugh, if you didn’t immediately start crying from the overwhelming sense of relief. He was confused, and then shocked, and then speechless, and then there was that smile. The smile that could power a thousand suns. He reached out his hands towards you, and when you took them he immediately pulled you into his arms. You were both whispering nonsense to each other, and clutching on for dear life, and breathing each other in like you’d had a lifetime apart.

“I’m so sorry it took me this long to come home to you.” This time, it was your turn to offer this apology to Ashton, who immediately shook his head before pressing his lips to yours softly.

“Never apologise, my love. It could take all the time in the world, and I’d still be waiting for you just the same.”

“Is now a good time to tell you I bought a one way ticket?” You said quietly, eyes darting up to meet Ashton’s gaze. He was looking at you incredulously, and you had a moment of panic about whether or not that was the right decision to have made.

“Are you kidding me? That’s the best fucking news I’ve heard in a long time.”

There was that smile again, and more soft kisses, and being pulled into the hotel room with giggles and clashing limbs as Ashton tried to maneuver you and your belongings inside, as well as closing the door behind you both.

A quick shower and a call down to room service for some late night pizza, and then you were settling in under the covers as the lack of sleep on the flights and all your hours of travel started to hit you. You were trying to stay awake, because you didn’t want to miss a moment, but Ashton could see right through you.

“Sleep, my love. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up tomorrow.” Ashton murmured, absentmindedly drawing small circles into your back as you settled into his chest with a yawn.

“You promise? How about the day after tomorrow?” You asked, cracking one eye open to glare at him in jest.

“The day after, and the day after, and every single day after that until you get sick of me, which will be never, because there’s no one in my life I’m more intertwined with, and it’s my favourite thing about the entire universe.” Ashton explained matter-of-factly, and it made your heart soar.

He reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, and you were bathed in darkness. Sleep overcame you quickly, and instinctively you found safety, and security, and wholeness in Ashton’s arms, as he found in yours. And all you needed was that moment, over and over again, forever.

These arms would not be taught to need another's

'Cause we're the special two

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#ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin fanfiction #my writing #hope you like it!#just a fun lil extra #it's 1am now so i'm going to sleep but happy reading!

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

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Long Way From Home: Chapter 2

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

Well, the first chapter certainly got some reactions, so I’m back again to either answer the questions from last chapter or make things more confusing. Or both, because why not? I’m planning weekly updates, but we’ll see what actually happens. Thanks, uni.

<<<Chapter 1

Logic screamed that he was actually facing the Hood, the twisted man adopting his own appearance for some scheme or other that Scott really didn’t want to know about. His gut told logic to go take a hike – there was no way the Hood would be standing there, barely two feet from his uniform, and not raiding any and all technology he could get his grubby little paws on. Nor would the Hood leave him unrestrained when he’d had plenty of opportunity to secure him during the gap in his memory.

Besides, the Hood was a perfectionist. His disguises were flawless, a product of technology Brains rolled his eyes at but acknowledged was an engineering masterpiece, if sadly in the wrong hands. This Scott in front of him was not a carbon copy.

For starters, much to Scott’s chagrin, the man’s hair was a healthy brown all over. No grey traitors wormed their way along his roots, signs of stress he desperately tried to ignore even as his brothers taunted him for their existence and pulled stunts that felt designed to increase their number. The brown was also slightly lighter than his own, although that could just have been a product of more washes and less gel. Despite the lack of grey hairs, he also got the impression that this man was actually older than him, if only by a year or so.

“How did you get here?” His voice was different, too. The pitch wasn’t the same, nor was the tone quite right. Virgil could give a better summary of the nuances, he was sure.

The words, though. Those were all Scott, right down to the sharp delivery and clear expectation of a prompt answer. Skipping pleasantries, and heading straight for the heart of the matter because they didn’t have time to dance around the issue.

“I might have a better idea if I knew where ‘here’ was,” he challenged. “What is this place? Where am I?” Where were his brothers?

The Other-Scott (Fake Scott? Hood-Masquerading-As-Scott?) locked gazes with him. What he was looking for, Scott didn’t know, but he refused to cower away from his doppelgänger and met his steely, searching look with one of his own. Logic still insisted that the Hood, or at least the Hood’s technology, had to be responsible, but he’d learnt to trust his gut long before he’d even heard of his father’s dream of International Rescue and that was adamant that Kayo’s miserable excuse for a family member had nothing to do with the man in front of him.

What it couldn’t tell him was who the man was, aside from an imperfect clone of himself. The unusual technology surrounding them – alien, Alan might call it for lack of a more rational explanation – was another piece to the puzzle that wasn’t slotting together.

Puzzles were more of John’s thing, not his. There were many times his ginger brother had rescued the poor pieces from his hands as he tried to force them into the wrong places.

Why had John not made contact yet?

“Who are you?” he demanded when it became clear that the other man wasn’t intending on answering his other questions. “Why am I here? Where are my brothers?”

“Brothers?” Other-Scott repeated, frowning deeply. “We found you alone.”

“Found me?” Scott spat. “Where? Last place I remember was the securest part of my own home! There’s no way you got near me without passing my brothers!” His brothers, sleeping soundly in the belief that they were safe in their own home. Even John had gone to sleep, secure on Five, but if they’d reached Thunderbird One’s hangar they’d have reached the space elevator docking system. “So where. Are. My. Brothers?”

“You were in our home,” Other-Scott bit back, hands briefly balling into fists before being forced to relax again. “Alone. Wherever your brothers are, it’s not here.” Scott didn’t like the emphasis on brothers.

“Don’t lie to me!” he roared, temper fraying. His brothers had to be with him, otherwise John would have made contact asking where he’d gone. Otherwise this man – and others beside him – had invaded their home and taken him whilst leaving his brothers but that made no sense. Why take only one member of International Rescue when you could have all five? Why take only one Tracy – even if it was the eldest, the one with the most access to all their assets – when you could take more for additional insurance?

They hadn’t tied him down, and the wires hooking him up to the bizarre machines had long since lost their hold on him from his earlier movement. A rookie mistake. With years of Air Force training behind him, Scott launched himself at the other man.

Blue eyes widened just before a fist made contact with his cheek, and Other-Scott staggered backwards before catching his balance, his hand tenderly brushing over the injured area. The movement had put him to one side, no longer between Scott and the door, and Scott took full advantage of that. If this man wasn’t going to admit where his brothers were, he’d find them himself.

It was his turn to receive a punch as he jumped towards the door, putting him off-course and allowing Other-Scott to block his way again. This time, his curiously wary look had changed to an angry one, and as they met in a flurry of blows Scott couldn’t tell which of them moved first.

“Let. Me. At. My. Brothers,” he spat between blows, gasping as an elbow caught him in the solar plexus just as Other-Scott doubled over from a fist to the gut.

“They’re not, argh, here!” Other-Scott insisted, hooking their ankles together and bringing them tumbling to the floor, where they pushed and shoved at each other, trying to get the upper hand. Something fell off a table as Scott’s back slammed into it, shattering into many glass fragments and dousing him with a cool liquid. Another bottle hit Other-Scott’s shoulder on the way down, before smashing on the floor and adding to the mess.

They were equally matched, neither able to get the upper hand as they rolled around on the floor, fists flying, heads clashing, and elbows jabbing whatever fleshy body parts they could reach in all the chaos. Broken glass dug mercilessly into bare skin wherever it was visible, the liquid contents of the former bottles oozing through their clothes. Other-Scott’s head slammed against the bed, but he barely paused before Scott found his own head colliding with a metal table, darkening his vision for a split second.

“What’s going on here?” an unfamiliar voice demanded. Scott ignored it, and Other-Scott met his latest attacks with equal fervour. “Scott, stop!”

Scott had no intention of stopping. He didn’t recognise the voice, but Other-Scott had flinched so he did, which meant they were working together.

Strong arms grabbed him, hauling him away from Other-Scott with a grunt, and he kicked out at the warm body restraining him. Other-Scott had been captured too, a shorter brown-haired man built like a tank firmly hooking him under the shoulders and frowning furiously as he fought to keep hold of Scott’s doppelgänger, who was as determined to get free as Scott himself.

“BOYS!” the voice thundered right in his ear, no doubt belonging to the owner of the arms restraining him. “What is this nonsense all a- oof?” Scott threw his head back, clashing with what felt like a nose, from the way it gave.

“Where are my brothers?” His demand came out almost as a scream, all his frustration at the situation pouring out of him as at least two more hostiles made themselves apparent. Other-Scott was stopping short of causing any damage to his own captor in his bids for freedom, suggesting that while the man was breaking up the fight, he was still on Other-Scott’s side.

“I told you!” Other-Scott shouted back at him. “They’re not here! We only found you!”

“They must be here!” Scott insisted. “Don’t lie to me!”

“E-nuff!” the man behind him joined in, the imperious tone ruined by the clear sounds of a broken nose. “Shedate im!”

Scott fought harder as a ginger man entered the room, looking at him with wide brown eyes before surveying the mess in front of him with trepidation. He picked his way across glass-strewn floor carefully, but Scott was more interested in Other-Scott, whose attempts to get free had reduced to a token effort as his attention was briefly stolen by the ginger man. He recognised that look of concern too well, far too used to seeing it in the mirror.

“Oh my!” a frail woman’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Oh, what a mess. Jefferson, what are you doing to that poor young man?”

Jefferson. The name was so familiar it hurt, but at least he had a name for Other-Scott – or so he thought until the man holding him responded.

“He’s quith ou o conthrol, muffer.”

Unable to help himself, Scott tore his gaze away from Other-Scott, who had now stopped resisting capture entirely in favour of looking in the direction of the doorway almost sheepishly, to catch a glimpse of the man holding him. Silver-grey hair and a receding hairline weren’t immediately familiar, however, and the hold he was in preventing him from seeing much more. He could, however, see the elderly lady who had interrupted the fight. Rosy cheeks, a slightly bent back and a quiver in her hands all pointed towards a particularly advanced age.

“Where are my brothers?” he asked again, reigning his voice in to an almost-level, if still intense, level.

“I told you-” Other-Scott started forwards again, only to be brought up short by the man still holding him tightly.

“Your brothers, dearie?” the old woman interrupted. “Oh, I’m afraid I don’t know. Jefferson, why don’t you help the young man find his brothers?”

“They’re not here, Grandma,” Other-Scott said, and Scott flared up again.

“Well then, dearie, it seems to me that instead of all this fighting, you should be looking to find out where they are,” Other-Scott’s grandmother pointed out. “I’m sure their absence is terribly distressing him. I know you’d be terribly distressed if your brothers were missing.” She pottered towards him, the ginger-haired man sweeping back to her side and nudging broken glass out of the way with a foot before she could tread on any. “Jefferson, let him go. Are you hungry, dearie? I’ve got an apple pie that’s just finished baking.”

“Muffer!” the man holding him protested, but the woman was no longer paying her son any attention, bespectacled eyes homing in on Scott. He looked around the room; Other-Scott was still held by the brown-haired man, and the ginger was hovering awkwardly by the elderly lady but shooting him assessing looks. The grip on his arms was slackening, and it became clear that no-one wanted to fight with her in the midst, Scott himself included.

“Well, dearie?” the woman prompted, and he slid out of the other man’s grasp. The instant he did so, a hand, just as frail and delicate as the rest of her, came to rest on his forearm. “If apple pie doesn’t meet your fancy, I have an orange tart, or some banana bread. Oh, if none of those tickle you, I’m sure I can find something,” she wittered as he found himself being coaxed from the room.

“Uh, apple pie would be… fine,” he said haltingly. Behind him, he heard a noise of protest. “Thank you, er, Mrs..?”

“Oh dear, I didn’t introduce myself.” She sounded mortified at the omission. “I’m so sorry, dear. It’s Mrs Tracy.”

It shouldn’t have bothered him. Tracy wasn’t an uncommon name, for all that there was only one family famous for it. The elderly lady looked nothing like his grandmother – either of them, even if his recollections of his mother’s mother were faded – but her grandson still looked like him, to the point he still didn’t trust the other man, or indeed anyone in the house. In light of that, having his own surname thrown around startled him.

“Is there something wrong?” Mrs Tracy asked him. “Oh, you don’t look well at all, dear. Let’s sit you down.” He found himself ushered into a seat as they reached what was clearly the kitchen. A young woman was already there, pulling the promised apple pie out of a bizarre contraption that vaguely resembled an old oven. “Tin-Tin, would you be a dear and fetch your father?” the elderly lady asked her. “This young man doesn’t seem very well.”

“But of course, Mrs Tracy.” Tin-Tin had a slight lilting accent to her voice, somewhere south-east Asian if Scott had to guess. “I’ll find him now.” She placed the apple pie, which smelled absolutely heavenly to Scott, compared to his own grandmother’s regular offerings, on the table and left the room.

“Eat up, dearie,” Mrs Tracy insisted, placing a plate in front of him. “Help yourself to as much as you want.”

The apple pie smelled good, and despite his misgivings at the entire situation, a homemade apple pie was far too tempting and he found himself tucking in to a healthy slice.

“What would you like to drink, dear?” she asked. “Tea, coffee? Oh, I have some juice somewhere, now where did I put it..?”

“Water is fine,” he answered between mouthfuls.

“Oh, are you sure?” she queried. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“Perfectly,” he replied, only to blink as a steaming cup of tea appeared in front of him.

“You called, Mrs Tracy?” An older man had entered the kitchen while he wasn’t looking, an impressive and concerning feat considering Scott was still on edge about the entire situation. His accent was the same as Tin-Tin’s, implying that this was her father.

“Oh, Kyrano,” the woman greeted. “This young man, oh, silly me, I never asked for your name, dearie… Dearie?”

Scott barely heard her, the cup of tea he’d started to lift falling from startled fingers to smash onto the table, spilling the liquid everywhere.

Kyrano. Another familiar name, if not a familiar face. First, Other-Scott, who could have been his identical twin. Then, Mrs Tracy, a name he knew all too well even if she didn’t look like his own grandmother. Now, Kyrano, another name albeit one whose owner he hadn’t seen in too long, with a different face but the same intensity about him.

“Dearie?” Mrs Tracy asked again. “Oh, what a mess. He’s as white as a sheet, Kyrano.”

Something reminiscent of smelling salts wafted under his nose and he spluttered.

“You’re bleeding, sir,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Allow me.”

Scott had forgotten about the broken bottles he’d been wrestling amongst with Other-Scott, but now the man had mentioned it, he could feel the sting of glass embedded in his arms. No permission was sought before a gentle yet firm hand wrapped around a glass-free section of his arm, holding it in place as a pair of tweezers were produced. He was no stranger to medical attention, and while he didn’t know the man – Other-Kyrano, apparently, for all that he clearly wasn’t English, and probably couldn’t trump Scott in a fight – he did at least know the procedure for removing foreign bodies from open wounds and watched like a hawk as the man more or less followed the methods he would have expected.

“Please, drink your tea,” Other-Kyrano asked once a nasty, stinging liquid – disinfectant was horrible stuff and Scott would never like it – had been applied and bandages carefully wrapped around the worst of the wounds. “You might find it helpful.” A second cup of tea replaced the smashed remains of the old one, as Other-Kyrano efficiently cleaned up the mess.

How was tea supposed to help? Lady Penelope might insist as such sometimes, but Scott would much rather a strong coffee chock full of caffeine. Still, Mrs Tracy was looking at him with a worried look on his face, and Grandma would murder him for defying or otherwise offending an elderly lady who had done him no harm. He cautiously pulled the cup closer to him, and was startled to discover it wasn’t an ‘Assam Blend’, or whatever other fancy teas Lady Penelope liked to serve up. It was herbal, and surprisingly delicious, he discovered after his first tentative sip.

“Kyrano serves wonderful tea,” Mrs Tracy told him, sitting down across the table from him. She had her own cup of steaming liquid in front of her, and sipped at it delicately. “Now, dear, I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?” Scott paused, taking another tentative sip of the tea to buy himself another moment to think. Should he give them his name? He didn’t know what they already knew. Was it worth a lie? No, he’d never be able to keep it up.

“Scott,” he admitted.

“Oh my,” Mrs Tracy said. “What a coincidence. That’s the name of my eldest grandson.” Scott’s gut churned unpleasantly, and he put the cup down before he dropped that one, too. “Oh, you even look the same. Isn’t that strange?”

Strange was one word to describe what was going on. Suspicious was another.

“You’re the fella that punched Scott?” A young man barged into the room. He had pale blond hair and light blue eyes that should have made him attractive, except he seemed to have a permanent frown etched into his face. “What gave you the right?” Scott matched his glare with one of his own as the young man – barely an adult at all, if he had to guess an age – stormed up to him.

“Alan!” Tin-Tin was there, resting a hand on his arm. “Please, calm yourself.”

Another familiar name, and now that he’d heard it Scott found himself instantly drawing parallels between the man and his youngest brother. There must have been at least five years between them, but Scott could see Alan looking like that man in a few years, although hopefully without the frown.

“But, Tin-Tin!” Other-Alan protested. “Scott’s face is bruised. I can’t just let that go!” He even had the same personality, a rigid sense of right and wrong with little ability to see the other person’s side, and a reluctance to acknowledge that black and white was joined by a large span of grey.

“Your brother can fight his own battles, Alan,” Tin-Tin soothed. “I’m sure it was all just a misunderstanding.”

“What about Dad’s nose?” Other-Alan demanded. “You can’t expect me to…”

Scott tuned out the argument at that. Dad. He tried not to be a petty person, but there were times when he couldn’t quite prevent envy bubbling up when he heard other people taking about their Dads, taking them for granted as though they’d always be there. Over the years he’d got better at smothering it, but this was a man named Alan, with a brother named Scott, and a grandmother called Mrs Tracy, and they had their Dad.

He’d broken their Dad’s nose when he’d tried to stop him attacking one of his sons. If that had happened to his Dad – if Dad was still around to break up fights on their behalf, no matter how unwelcome the gesture would have been in the moment – he’d be fuming, too. He wasn’t going to apologise though. Not now, when he didn’t know where he was, who he was with, or where his brothers were. He didn’t even know what these people planned to do with him, regardless of whether or not his presence in their home was intentional on their behalf.

“Leave it, Alan.” The blond man’s tirade was cut off by none other than Other-Scott – now confirmed to actually be a Scott himself – as he walked into the room. “Is there any apple pie left, Grandma?”

“Oh, yes, dear,” Mrs Tracy assured him. “Take a seat and I’ll bring some over.”

“Thanks,” Other-Scott said, pulling up a chair a couple away from Scott. His face was bruised, as Other-Alan had said, a beautiful darkening along his cheekbone and narrowly missing his eye. Other-Kyrano set a cup of tea in front of him, which he accepted gratefully and drank without hesitation.

“But, Scott!” Other-Alan complained, and his brother sighed.

“That’s enough, Alan,” he said, tearing into the plate of apple pie his grandmother placed in front of him. “Leave it.”

Other-Alan caved, albeit with obvious bad grace, and stalked out from the room. Scott watched him go. Part of him was glad that the younger man was being openly hostile – at least he knew where, exactly, he stood with him. Other-Scott was less clear, patched up from their scuffle and now sat at the same table, devouring his grandmother’s apple pie. Suspicious glances remained, but there was no open hostility.

The door opened again, and Other-Alan re-entered followed by the two young men from the infirmary, and-

A second teacup smashed onto the table.

“Oh dear!” Mrs Tracy cried, hurrying over to him. Other-Kyrano quickly swept up the remains as she took hold of his hand. “Scott, dear, are you alright?”

“Scott?” one of the men asked. He thought it might have been Other-Scott.

“Oh, Jeff, are you sure there’s nothing wrong with him?” Mrs Tracy was asking. “This is the second turn he’s had in as many minutes! Oh, look at him, he’s gone as white as a sheet again, Kyrano.”

Scott barely heard them. The man who had just entered the room had the obvious signs of a broken nose, identifying him as Other-Alan’s Dad. He also had salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper, and a receding hairline. Steel eyes fixed on him sharply, hard and unforgiving, and a five o’clock shadow did nothing to hide the dimples in his cheeks. This was the same man that had restrained him, and while a glimpse in his periphery hadn’t been enough to cause recognition, now that Scott could see him properly he looked like Dad – an older version of Dad, but then he hadn’t seen Dad since he was nineteen. No doubt, if Dad was still with them, he’d look very similar to the man in front of him.

This had gone beyond simple words like weird and suspicious. Impossible sounded more like it.

“His medical results all came back clear, Grandma,” the brown-haired man from the infirmary assured her, squatting down in front of him and shining a penlight into his eyes. He recoiled from the bright light, tearing his gaze away from Not-Dad – it couldn’t be Dad, Dad was gone – to frown at him.

“Did you call him Scott?” the ginger man asked, walking over to the table and slotting himself in a chair between him and Other-Scott.

“That is my name,” he said before anyone else could speak up. A hush fell over the room, broken by Other-Kyrano setting a third cup of tea in front of him.

“Drink,” the man said. “It will help.”

“Your name is Scott?” Other-Alan demanded. “But-”

“That’s enough, Alan,” Not-Dad interrupted. The blond frowned, but obeyed. “Scott, is it?”

“That’s what I said,” Scott retorted, taking a sip of the fresh drink. As Other-Kyrano said, it did help. Somehow.

“Scott..?” Not-Dad trailed off expectantly. Surrounded by too many familiar names, Scott decided against answering. He took a longer drink, ignoring the patriarch of the family in favour of assessing the rest of the room. Other-Alan and Other-Scott he already had some measure of, the former more so than the latter. Mrs Tracy was a kind enough lady, and Tin-Tin seemed of a similar temperament. Other-Kyrano was difficult to read, but his focus was the two men whose names he had yet to hear.

The ginger noticed his scrutiny, returning it in kind. There was something familiar about him, but Scott batted away the notion. He was simply off-balance at the number of familiar names and faces already – that was no reason to start looking for more connections where there were none. No matter now much the warm brown eyes of the two as-yet unnamed men reminded him of two of his brothers.

Not-Dad bristled when it became apparent that he wouldn’t give his name.

“I’d like to know, who, exactly, is trespassing in my home,” he said. Clearly the man was used to being obeyed.

“I’d like to know how, exactly, I got here, and where my family are,” he retorted.

“You don’t know how you got here?” the brown-haired man asked, surprised.

“Virgil,” Not-Dad warned. The third teacup was spared the fate of the previous two purely by being on the table when Scott’s grip slacked.

“No,” he said firmly, powering through the unpleasant sensation dousing him again before Mrs Tracy commented on another ‘turn’. “I don’t. I don’t know where ‘here’ is, either.”

“But how could you get here without knowing?” the newly dubbed Other-Virgil asked. “None of us brought you here.”

Scott didn’t bother responding, draining the cup of tea before any more unpleasant surprises could befall it and standing up.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said to Other-Kyrano, “and the apple pie,” he continued to Mrs Tracy, ignoring Not-Dad as he pushed the chair under the table.

“Dear, are you sure you’re alright?” Mrs Tracy fussed. He wasn’t, but he didn’t tell her that. Instead he gave a short nod before choosing a door at random and walking through it, ignoring a protest from Not-Dad.

A corridor greeted him, with a neat row of doors on one side and a branch off to the left leading to who knew what.

“Now look here.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and he was halfway to removing it forcibly before placing the voice. Having already broken Not-Dad’s nose, thereby earning the wrath of at least one member of the family, it was probably not a good idea to injure the man further. It didn’t stop him shrugging him off, however. “I don’t want you walking around our home unsupervised, young man.”

“Then supervise me,” he retorted.

“I intend to.” A hand returned to his shoulder – lightly, this time, Not-Dad clearly learning his lesson – and steered him towards what now looked a lot like an elevator from those old, vintage films Grandma occasionally put on even though they were from before her time, or so she claimed. Neither he nor any of his brothers were brave enough to dispute it. “Gordon, I want everyone in the lounge. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“Yes, Father,” the ginger man said – Scott hadn’t even noticed him behind Not-Dad – and tried very hard not to react to the name, even though the situation had flown past anything anyone could classify as a coincidence at this point. Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Alan… all they were missing was a John.

Not-Dad gestured for him to enter the elevator, ignoring what seemed to be a perfectly serviceable flight of stairs, and he did so with trepidation, watching metal shutters slide across sharply before a jerk beneath their feet had them rising.

“Jeff Tracy,” Not-Dad said suddenly. Scott glanced at him as the elevator stopped moving and the metal shutters opened with a clatter. “Call me Mr Tracy.” His cool, unpersonable approach was nothing like how Scott remembered Dad, and that helped, a little. He didn’t intend on calling him anything, though. Not until he knew why there was a clone of his father, and of himself, in this strange house.

Chapter 3>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #tin-tin kyrano #kyrano #alan tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #long way from home

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