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mochikeiji · 3 years

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Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo scenarios #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #raines: gogatsu event

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sweetdreamsjeff · 3 years

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Inger Lorre & Jeff Buckley

Monday, February 20, 2012 1:36 PM

In conversation with Jeff Buckley - the clouds within

I have always avoided mentioning Jeff in interviews for a number of reasons:

First, 'cause it's not cool to name-drop at every opportunity - two, 'cause I still find it hard to talk about him - and thirdly, as he's not available to reply, we have to apply utmost care and diligence when citing his name.

Jeff was one of the very few people I made a connection that went way beyond the tour schedules; but if anyone here is hoping this story is going to be filled with gossip of a personal nature, don't bother reading further, for the trust of friendship I had with him was sealed absolute, and that will never be broken.

But I wanted to share a conversation we once had, as it does have some bearing on my own anatomical life as an artist, and therefore, has still some relevance today.

I will be drawing a few parallel lines between us, but I must stress: strictly of a non-musical nature: for Jeff Buckley, in my view, was the brightest of all stars, profoundly talented, and this shabby Isabel Monteiro - (no capital bold here), just a 5ft meteor lucky enough to hit his path.

But I will draw attention to some idiosyncratic personality traits we shared, this being the topic of the conversation in question.

Anyone who's met Jeff will surely remember him as I do: a really, really funny guy - I mean, he was one of the funniest people I've ever met - sharp, witty, with an incisive sense of humor, always on the money and spot on.

But one could easily see that beyond the jokes and crisp remarks, there lurked a pool of great sadness and disquiet.

In this respect, I believe, we were very much alike.

We were talking about our personalities and moods, and how annoying it was that most people often made the wrong assumption that our 'sad side' was somehow 'more real' than our 'funny side' - which we both concluded it was a mistake, 'cause from our perspective, all those aspects made up the full picture of who we really were.

Then Jeff came up with this beautiful metaphor, one that stayed in my memory, he said:

'You know, it's like we've got this weather system trapped inside us - in the pit of the stomach, the clouds are always forming and waiting to rise. Even when everything's sunny, the clouds are always there, brewing. And every now and again they rise up and it pours for days, sometimes weeks; then it dies away, the sun comes out and the whole thing starts again. We're stuck with it, the clouds within.'

This struck me as such a pretty and lyrical way to describe the complexity of our souls, and it brought to mind this wonderful image of artists going round the world with clouds in their stomachs. poetic.

But then, the implication of what he said hit me , so I asked him:

'But...that means we can never be happy?!'

'Yeah, that's right, people like us can never be happy.'

The last time I spoke to J, sounds quite surreal now and hard to believe, but we've been talking about recording/writing a little acoustic album together in NYC - whole thing was gonna be quite simple, country-esque and gospelly - this now sounds so far-fetched, almost in the realm of fiction - but it didn't then.

I had a few tours booked ahead with Drugstore, but was planning to fly out to NYC once the promo/tours etc were done.

When I got back to London, I checked my voice mail, which at the time was one of those retro BT machines, that had a cute mini-cassette tape inside, remember those? To my surprise Jeff had left lots of little messages - each one under a completely different guise/voice - and very funny they were too.

People may not know this, but he was also a master impersonator - he could do voices, any voice, really well.

The messages ranged from Homer Simpson to Nigel Tufnel, via Al Pacino - each one was funny, quirky and very lovely (in one, he said I should soon be traveling to the US on Concorde 1st class, as the royalties from him singing Alive and No more Tears would soon kick in - though he needn't worry, knowing that he liked my songs was the greatest reward.)

By the time I called him back, he already had traveled south and was stuck in the studio, working on his new record, so I thought it was best to pursue our own little project later down the line, once his album was done.

I never had a chance to speak to him again.

The years went by and, sadly, I lost track of that BT answering machine, (probably deemed obsolete during some last minute flat move).

In this life, I've been given a lot of really expensive crap that had no intrinsic value to me whatsoever, from Cartier to Rolex - all met the same end: a cheap desperados' pawnbrokers in East London.

But if I could have something back, I would choose that little tape with Jeff's messages in it - I'd be very happy with that.

#Jeff Buckley #inger lorre #The Nymphs

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mischiefthedreamerx · 3 years

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To Build A Home

Synopsis: To Loki's surprise, he finally rejoins his parents for the chance of everlasting peace in a place he never thought he deserved to enter; Valhalla. Though there is someone else waiting for him first. A bittersweet reunion.

A/N: This would basically be tv show Loki somehow dying eventually and seeing his parents which ik doesn't make sense but who cares XD And yes, the title is the name of a song by The Cinematic Orchestra.

Disclaimer: The concept of Valhalla belongs to Norse Mythology, any info about it in this one-shot is purely for the sake of this fanfic only.

Word count: 3.2k

- - - -

Loki had lost count with the amount of times he had woken up in strange places or better yet died. It was a becoming a dreadful habit..

Though this time, it was different. There was no pain or feelings of confusion as if he had just awoken from a well deserved sleep. Firstly, he could hear the soothing sounds of ocean waves crashing against rock. Then opening his eyes, the sky was a soft shade of grey, comforted by the rolls of occasional thunder. The arrival of rain must be on its way.

For a moment, Loki listened to lullaby of sounds as he lay on the grass, not needing to feel panicked. Would he only wake up in Hel if he fell back to sleep? He did not dare risk that possibility so he stood himself up to look around at his new surroundings.

He was on some surreal coastal cliff that spanned for miles. It hit him with a sudden sense of deja vu despite never visiting this place before. Loki felt like he should be panicking or worrying where he was, or feeling anything else other than being at peace right now. It wasn't particularly a feeling he usually felt.

Loki glanced up at the sky once more, a frown appearing on his face. The rumbles of thunder began to sound less distant than before. He sensed that he was no longer alone.

"Hello, brother." Said a familiar voice that caused Loki's heart to hammer in his chest, to quiver at the knees but he held himself strong. Brother. A word he had not heard for far too long. A word he had wished to hear so desperately.

Loki swallowed, refusing to turn around. "This isn't real." This was all some twisted illusion, it had to be.

The voice continued to speak with comforting ease. "It is very much real, I promise you that." Footsteps came closer. "You took your time coming here, Loki. Consider me impressed that you lasted this long." The low voice said in soft amusement. The start of tears threatened to escape the corner's of Loki eyes but he did not want to give whoever made this illusion the satisfaction of seeing him break.

Loki steadily turned around and there he was. All muscle and ragged blonde hair, less neat than the last time he saw his brother. He looked less 'hero' like and more of a warrior crafted by wars, wiser somehow. Yet still that same old bright smile remained, it was a smile Loki often hated in the past but now it was something to cherish. Something he missed.

"This isn't funny. I'm not fooling for this sick twisted illusion." Loki stayed on his guard, looking around to find whoever was behind this. “Stop hiding and face me you coward!"

Thor did not raise his voice, he only kept a slow pace walking forwards. "This is no game, brother. I would do no such thing."

"Prove it. Prove that you're real." Loki demanded.

"How?" Thor asked.

"I-i don't know. A memory of some sorts." He stuttered out his rushed response. Thor stood still, racking his brain through the years of memories they shared.

Thor blurted out a memory at random; "Remember when I hid that injured bird in my chambers for months when we were 10? And I had forbid you to tell Mother and Father."

Loki could easily recall the ancient memory of their youth. "And somehow it managed to cause absolute chaos when it escaped during the annual Winter fate." He couldn't help himself but smile at such madness. Memories were so easy to forget when one lives for such a long time. "To think they'd let you keep such a creature." Loki scoffed.

"Says the one who wanted to ask Mother if he could adopt that wyvern and take it back to Asgard from our trip to Vanaheim."

Loki crossed his arms in defence. "Not my fault he took a liking to me. What was I suppose to do?”

Both of the brother's smiled at each other. Illusion be damned. Thor opened up his arms and without being a given a choice, he pulled Loki into an embrace. Loki had forgotten how strong his brother was..Nevertheless, Loki gladly returned the embrace. They stayed like that for a few more moment, both afraid of letting go in case this was not real.

"It's good to see you, brother." Though I only wish it was under better circumstances. " Thor said, setting Loki free.

"I never thought I'd say this but it's good to see you too." His smile soon faded into confusion; "So.. we're dead, right?"

Thor nodded. "I'm afraid so."

"Hang on just a minute.. how come you died before me?" Loki said, genuinely curious. Though of course a part of him felt victorious for being the last to die yet it still surprised him due to his bad habits...

Thor looked puzzled at the question. "Well, I was never told dying had become a competition between us considering the amount of times you've fooled me in the past. How did you..?" Thor asked, Loki knew what he was asking.

"If it pleases you to know, I've finally ran out of tricks on escaping the arts of inevitable death.." Loki spoke softly.

"What kind of brother would I be if that pleased me?" Thor joked.

"A terrible one." Loki replied. "Also, what happened to you? Looking rough around the edges there, brother." He said regarding Thor's appearance.

Thor placed his hands on his hips, hiding the fact that he felt self conscious. "I'll have you know many women find the..rough warrior look rather attractive." He said unconvincingly. “You should try it.” He then analysed Loki trying to find fault in his brothers appearance.

"I've noticed the hair...nice curls by the way.” Thor teased with a smile.

Loki simply rolled his eyes.

Thor then changed the subject; "Come now, brother. They are waiting for us, we don't have much time." Thor could not hide the smile growing on his face. Loki looked puzzled.

"Who..?" He asked, though Loki knew deep down who Thor was referring too. Anxiety had quickly woven its way into Loki's stomach. Thor did not respond and kept on walking. He had wished to one day see his adoptive parents again but right now a part of him regretted his wish.

Loki followed but soon stopped in his tracks. Thor turned back to look at his brother.

"Do not be afraid, Loki. They have missed you." Thor said, attempting to comfort his anxiety. He waited in place for Loki to continue their walk. Loki managed to nod.

Once they had passed over a small hill on the cliff, a slim figure was watching the ocean where the view of the waves was more clearer here. The figure was dressed in silks of the lightest blue, golden curls hung loose and some in a braid around her head. They carried on closer, Loki absentmindedly began fidgeting with his hands.

Their mother turned around without making a sound, her hands held together in perfect posture. Like Loki remembered, her expression was hard to read. It was somewhere between contentment and ease. She was both an angel of grace and strength.

All Loki wanted to do was to run into her arms like some lost child. Though of course he resisted in doing so. He was no longer a child, he did not need to be coddled.

"It has been far too long, Loki." She spoke opening up her arms, he had always loved the way she said his name. Many had said his name as if it was a curse, made it sound tainted and evil. When it came from her lips, it sounded almost soft, someone else he once knew had also spoke his name in that very same way as if it was just a name without the ties of his past chained to it. Loki was speechless but accepted his mother's invitation and returned the embrace. It filled him with a rush of warmth despite the small breeze from the sea. Thor nodded his head at Frigga and carried on walking, giving Loki some time alone with their mother

They soon let go and faced each other. Loki wanted to feel happy that she was here but the guilt of knowing he was the reason she had died on the day the dark elves attacked haunted him greatly.

"Mother, I—" Loki began but Frigga cut him off.

"There is no such need for apologies, my dear. There was no way you could of known such an event would enfold. You are not to blame for my death."

Loki was taken back, it was if his mother was also some mind reader. Her powers were still a mystery to him, he knew she was far more powerful than she let others believe. He did not question it.

Despite Frigga's reassurance, Loki still felt unsure but he knew she was no such liar.

"How could you forgive me so easily? Surely I deserve some form of punishment for my actions?" He questioned.

Frigga shook her head lightly. "It is a mother's duty to love their children unconditionally. Death is not the end, Loki. It is simply another path we all must take one day. We depart this world to somewhere far greater." She placed a hand on Loki's cheek as she continued to speak;

"The fact that you believe you deserve such punishment tells me you have suffered enough guilt and regret from your choice of actions." Frigga gazed deeply into her son's eyes as if she was seeing something she had not noticed before. "You've changed."

It wasn't a question but rather a statement of truth. Loki was not too sure exactly what she meant but comparing to how he was in New York even he could not deny this, but it felt strange to hear this conformation said out loud as if the idea of him ever changing into something better seemed impossible.

"I suppose I have." Loki said with a smile, almost with a sudden realisation.

"I no longer see any anguish behind those eyes of yours, only peace and a sense of certainty within yourself. Your father will be proud."

Loki dropped his gaze slightly at the mention of his father. Maybe now it would be different, Loki knew his worth unlike before. He would not be afraid. From the beginning all he wanted was for his father to be proud of him, to notice he was just as worthy as Thor. Though Loki soon learnt that ones self-worth did not rely on the perception of others.

“Would he really?”

“You’d be surprised.” His mother extended a hand.

“Shall we?” She said. Loki accepted and hooked his arm around her as they both walked forwards towards the ending of the cliff.

"You must tell me of your adventures one day, Loki." She said with a gentle smile.

"I have many stories to tell you Mother...of the people I have met, my friends." Loki said fondly, looking ahead at the ocean.

"I look forward to hearing about them. I hope you have not caused too much trouble." His mother joked lightly.

"Oh you have no idea." They both smiled at each other.

Up ahead, Loki saw a circular portal, sparked golden. Next to the portal was Thor and in front of him was Odin, dressed in white robes, a golden coloured patch across one eye. His expression was far more harder to read than his mothers. Loki straightened his shoulders. He reminded himself that he was not a child, though standing in front of Odin made his confidence slip away.

"You know your father has never been good with words. Give him a chance." Frigga whispered as she paused to let Loki come closer to his father.

They were a few steps away. Loki refused to speak first, despite feeling that he should.

"My son." Odin greeted him. Another word he had longed to hear. His tears still continued fighting to break free, Loki did not let them fall but it was clear they were now visible.

"Father." Loki returned the greeting in a neutral tone. His breathing sounded louder in his ears than the waves crashing against rock from below. Then Odin did something that shocked Loki the most, shocked him more than the fact he had died; Odin opened up his arms in waiting. The last time Loki had hugged his father was when he was an innocent child. Loki's feet froze in place.

It was true what his mother had said; he was never good with words, sure Odin could easily address a hall of guests or royalty but when it came to being sentimental with his adoptive son, that was a struggle. It was something Loki could also relate too; struggling to become vulnerable in front of people but the trickster side to him could come up with dramatic speeches or elaborate lies to anyone without much effort. They played their roles perfectly to the point where it was the only role they felt comfortably playing, the only role they knew how to play. Now Odin had no kingdom to rule and Loki was no longer fuelled with hatred and the delusional need to become a king.

Loki forced his feet to move in slow cautious steps, turning his head to read his mother's expression as he walked. Loki hesitated, then stiffly accepted his Father's embrace. Odin lightly placed his arms around his son. After a few awkward seconds, Loki slumped his shoulders and let himself soften into the embrace as if it was something he had needed all along. He was glad Odin and Frigga could not see his face right now because the tears eventually won their battle and slipped free. Loki squinted his eyes close to force them away but it was too late for that now.

"Welcome home, Loki. It bring's me great joy to see my family together again." A small smile touched Odin's lips.

Loki tried to smile back as much as he could. He knew it was his turn to speak.

"I'm..—"His throat felt dry. ".. i'm not who I used to be." Was all Loki managed to say. Light speckles of rain began to fall from above.

"I know, Loki. I can tell. What happened?" Odin asked curiously. Was there some form of concern in his voice?

Loki looked up at the sky gathering up his thought on what to say as the a few rain drops trailed down his face. "It's a long story.." He said. "You wouldn't believe me even if i told you." He managed to make a small joke. "I've been to places you'd never thought could possibly be real"

"Is that so?" Odin said, sounding intrigued. "Then we have plenty of time together to hear about those places that you speak of once we enter the gates of Valhalla." Odin placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder.

"Would you allow me..? To enter such a place?" Yet even after all these years, he still wanted some form of acceptance from his father.

"I may of been the All Father, but not even I can decide who enters. It seems that you are just as worthy to enter as I am. It is not something for me to question whether you are worthy or not."

Loki couldn't help but feel disheartened by his father's response. "Right, of course." He sighed.

For Loki's next question, he turned his eyes down to the ground so he'd have the courage to speak. "Can this ever be fixed..between us?" If they really did have eternity together then Loki did not want for them to continue being this way; so distant, a coldness that lingered in the air when they where in the same room together. So many words left unsaid and perhaps it would always be this way but Loki wished to at least try rebuilding this broken bridge even if they never managed to fix it completely.

"I let you down, Loki. Perhaps I truly was blinded by my internal hatred for the frost giants, thus making me less of a father to you. I had not realised my faults for so long."

Loki shook his head, unimpressed. "Don't play the victim. You knew you could never love me as much as Thor, you're only lying to yourself." Behind Odin, Loki could see Thor wordlessly mouth his name telling him to stop, Loki only ignored him.

Give him a chance. Frigga's words echoed through his mind.

“Loki, please. I do wish to fix what has happened between us. You may not believe me and for that I can understand. I betrayed you, hid you from the truth when I should of told you everything from the beginning. I cannot change what has happened but we can make amends.”

"You wanted only to protect me." Loki said, remembering the words Odin had spoke when Loki had first touched the casket of ancient winters.

"Yes, I did." Odin confirmed. "But it was in vain. It did more harm than good.”

Loki wasn't too sure exactly what he wanted his father to say. They both had succumb to silence, the rain slowly descending heavier but not enough to get them soaked.

"I'm sorry, my son. I hope in time you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Loki's eyes widened. He could not recall many people ever apologising to him, maybe he too had some apologising to do as well one day.

"I can try..to forgive."

Odin seemed satisfied with his response and nodded. It was good enough for both of them.

Thor had now appeared next to Odin, and Frigga now on Loki's side, smiling at him.

"Come now, my sons. Let us all go home. Together.” His father then turned around as he made his decent towards the golden circular portal on edge of the cliff.

Loki’s tear-stained eyes flickered between Thor and his mother as if silently asking for their reassurance; for their approval to allow him to come, for this chance of sharing eternal peace with his family, the family he had once destroyed, torn apart. The family that somehow still loved him despite it all.

They both nodded their acceptance. No words where necessary to be said between them right now, they had plenty of time. Thor and Frigga now turned to follow Odin on their short walk to the final destination of their life.

Loki felt rooted in place watching the distance begin to separate him from his family but this time he would not leave them, he would not push them away. He would join them forever. It was the end to this trickster’s tale, though graced with yet another new beginning all at once.

Loki let the distance increase. With a flicker of green sparks from his fingertips, a rusted gold headpiece appeared, one of the small horns had broken off long ago. He gently clutched the headpiece into his palm as if it was something fragile.

Goodbye. Until we meet again.

“Are you not coming home, my dear?” His mother said as all three of them waited by the glowing portal. He let out a slow steady breath, breathing in the ocean’s fresh scented air.

Loki let his surroundings comfort him for a moment, praying this was not some sick dream after all. When he was satisfied this was in fact real, he followed down the short path to Valhalla and never once looked back.

The winds whispered a single word: home.

#mcu #loki oneshot #avengers #loki fanfic #loki #marvel one shot #marvel #sylvie #thor #mcu loki #loki tv show #loki fandom #Spotify

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

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Chizuru Town (Part 1)

In the game you wake up on the beach in Chizuru with NO IDEA how you got there.

I have a little fun with it. Enjoy!

“MC!”

The children’s voices were happy and oddly squeaky. They draw you out of unconsciousness. Your body feels a bit cold, and you shiver.

“MC!” They keep calling you. You’re lying face up but their hands are pressed against your back. They keep pushing you from below.

You take a breath and feel the cold shock of water up your nose. The choking sensation makes you want to bolt upright but something is holding you up on the surface of the water. You catch a glimpse of silver grey, rubbery skin. A thin slit in that skin opens and sprays a mist with a sharp whoosh. The children’s voices are replaced by the squealing and whistling of dolphins.

Dolphins! Their sharp pointed fins are cutting through the water. You can see their bright eyes turn to look up at you. The way their mouths curve in their snouts gives them a smile. But they were powerful, insistent creatures. The moment you tried to swim on your own, they pushed you out of the water again.

The salt water in your mouth, the frigid breeze against your sun warmed skin told you this wasn’t a dream. You’d heard stories of dolphins rescuing people before, but you’d never actually thought you’d get to experience being carried on these muscular bodies.

There were more surrounding you. Their sparkling backs broke the surface, no doubt watching. One eventually peeled off and another replaced them and you realized they were taking turns carrying you along. The sun was about halfway across the sky now and you could see the sparkling white sand of a small beach. The beach was only a few yards wide before it hit the seawall. You could climb up the seawall by what looked like stairs that led to a main street.

You gather your arms about yourself. What little clothing had survived the ghost tooth dragon vipers was torn away by the water and water-born debris. You were completely naked. You already were in the country illegally. You couldn’t imagine what would happen if you just showed up completely exposed like this. But how would you get any clothing?

The dolphins didn’t care about this at all. They pressed forward. If they knew anything about humans, it was that humans belonged on land and, for whatever reason, they had made it their mission to get you to the land as soon as possible. They pushed you with their snouts so hard you thought you might bruise and swam so quickly, you formed a wake in the water. You were already weak from fatigue and dehydration. There was no way you could fight them.

So you are pushed like a buoy towards the shore. When the water got too shallow the dolphins were forced to turn back or risk beaching themselves. Still, they swam a close distance away. Your body was shaking at a steady constant rate and the warm sand was irresistible. You lay down and sigh.

After a bit of rest, you pick a shadier spot against the wall, out of the sun and hopefully out of the prying eyes of people walking by. The dolphins follow you, spy hopping and watching. This was all so surreal.

You were supposed to be dead.

Again.

When you were younger, you read a book about a world where there was almost no difference between heaven, hell, and the living world. People died and woke up again to a place they found familiar and only vaguely strange. The book was deliberately unsettling, meant to blur the line between reality and dreams. The protagonist wasn’t sure if he was still alive, in heaven, or in hell, and the reader was not to know either until the end.

You’re feeling this way now. You thought you had died in the Arctic ocean, only to be thrown into a chaotic dragonslaying academy. Now you thought you died, only to wake up to a school of dolphins after nearly getting eaten by a dragon.

How are you alive after all that has happened? Maybe you weren’t alive. Maybe this was hell and you were suffering multiple deaths. The dolphins chattered brightly ahead of you, but now their sounds seemed more like they were mocking you, naked, on the sand alone, alive again with no friends.

There was no sign of Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang or Caesar Gattuso. Were they saved by dolphins too? Or left to drown and be eaten? Was God only with you and not with them? Your mind starts to form an idea. You can test out this theory. Worst case scenario was that you died for real and you’d long since gotten over that fear.

You stand up and brush the sand off your bare bottom. You would take your time to rest and hide out until night fell and then use the dark to your advantage.

Fatigue made you sleep longer than you wanted. Darkness has truly fallen when you wake up, stiff and achy. A greyish mat of sand has stuck to your whole body. You look back towards the ocean, but the dolphins are gone. You waddle out on wobbly legs and wash the sand away. After so much time in the water, the feel of it on your skin was suddenly abhorrent and you would be happy if you never spent another day in the ocean as long as you lived.

The theory that you’re actually dead and none of this was real was again challenged by how hard it was to make it up the stairs. You were so exhausted, starving and dehydrated that you swayed. You’d give anything for a bowl of hot ramen, served up fresh with a bit of egg floating on top.

You heard a voice cry out. A young couple was out for a stroll and had spotted you. You must look like a monster, hair long and matted and no clothes at all. Sure enough, they back away moaning with trembling voices before turning to run off, screaming something you can’t understand. Further up towards the street, you see bright lights. The smell of vendors cooking street food makes your stomach rumble. You couldn’t be out in the open, but maybe if you got close enough, you could dumpster dive and find some clothes. You sneak behind the back of the nearest building, a stucco box with a small front yard. The young man of the couple returns with a few other people. He’s speaking breathlessly, pointing towards the ocean. Poor guy. No doubt he thought he’d seen some ghost girl come from the ocean. This is probably something that would traumatize him for life.

You hear a small noise next to you. A little black cat is pawing at you. You could barely see it in the shadows. It didn’t care that you weren’t wearing clothes. Its fur was soft and warm and its purrs were comforting. You run your hand over its head and ears and it crawls into your lap. You would have liked to own a cat someday. You always liked them. They were funny and cute and very affectionate like this one. When you raise your eyes, your heart leaps. There are clothes hanging on a clothesline from a house not too far away!

You scramble quickly towards it, careful not to step on anything that might make noise. You check every gap to make sure that no one can see you. Then as soon as you reach the clothing, you carefully yank it off the line. It was just one of the local school uniforms. The white button down top was a bit small, but the wine-colored skirt fits you just fine around the waist. You were only a bit older than Renata when she died so this was probably the outfit of a highschool student.

Your eyes fall on the back door of the house. That’s right, Japanese don’t wear shoes in the house. These shoes were laid out neatly on the rack. You glance around and carefully approach, snatching what you hope will fit you. They’re just the right size, much to your shock. This surprise is enough to send a jolt of happiness through you. Now clothed, you return to the cat and pick it up in your arms and walk out on the street. The first thing you saw was a sign that said, Chizuru.

Before arriving in Japan, Norma, the school AI had told you about a place called Chizuru being a safe haven and to find an Internet Cafe there if you ever got into trouble. The hairs rose on the back of your arms. How could this be possible that dolphins not only save your life, but take you directly to the place that you needed to be? You sang the song that said ‘God is with you’ but it was supposed to be a metaphor right?

You approach a man on the street who looks at you with a stunned expression. “I… excuse…”

Before you can ask anything, he shakes his head again and again and flees from you. “Wait! I need…”

You try again, this time of one of the vendors, an old craggy-faced man who stares at you with a black expression until you give up.

Burned, you just decide to wander around until you see something that looks like an internet cafe. It wouldn’t be in a neighborhood. More likely closer to the city center, on a main street. You head that way, away from the beach and the houses. The city center seems much quieter than you would expect it to be. You stop.

A group of people are standing on the street, five men in black leather jackets displaying flaming Oni masks. One had a wild looking tall mohawk dyed red. His black jeans reached down to black leather boots studded with silver spikes. It was as if the black dragon that tried to eat you had turned human and walked on land.

He turned his head and spotted you. It was too late to hide. His eyes ran up and down the length of you and he grinned, and made a slow whistling noise. You may have been raised in an orphanage but you weren’t that naive to not know what that smile meant. You’d seen it before on some of the staff who liked to take advantage of the older girls there.

So you didn’t need to know the vulgar words coming out of their mouth. You set the kitten down on a nearby trash can and pat it on the head, quietly telling it to stay in Russian. The cat obliged, and started to clean its paws.

In the orphanage, you were taught hand to hand basics until you were strong enough to actually use it in a fight. The trainings were very light against each other and you weren’t allowed to cause injury, but there was no gender splitting. You were only hybrids. Whether you were male or female, it didn’t matter so long as you had dragonblood in your veins.

Because of your background, you didn’t show the same innocent fear that these men may have been accustomed to from someone your age, in that clothing. You stared them straight in the eyes, your arms at your side, not moving forward or back. This nonchalant attitude made them stand there in brief bewilderment. The one with the mohawk was clearly the bolder of the five and he shouted something at you that you don’t understand. You just shake your head.

“I need to find the Internet Café…” You make a gesture with your hands to pantomime typing at a computer. They started to laugh, elbowing each other and nodding. You sigh. You’re so tired and it showed on your face.

Your lack of Japanese and your weary expression was an invitation to attack and they approached you now.

In the orphanage, no one would approach you like this in such a joking manner. Especially not on the training grounds. The Mohawk’s hands were relaxed. He was confident. He wasn’t watching your hands ball into fists as tight as stones and he wasn’t watching the sudden shift in your feet as you moved into a sturdy stance. He reached out with his hand to your elbow. So he was unable to block or dodge your fist that struck him like lightning.

He didn’t just feel pain or stagger back. The man felt flat to his side, straight to the pavement, and he didn’t get up. The eyes of his four friends followed him down with a stunned feeling. You knew that feeling. Like they suddenly found themselves in a fantasy world where a high school girl in a school uniform could knock out a gangster with a single hit?

Maybe this was a fantasy world and you were a fantasy high schooler. After all, you were carrying a cat!

They all turned to you in unison and you attacked the next one, levering back on one leg and slamming him with a kick to the solar plexus. He staggered back, wheezing, curling in on himself, once or twice..

The next one now had the wherewithal to produce a switchblade. He swung it wildly at where your heart should have been, but the blouse was a bit open where it was too tight and he caught a glimpse of the fact that you’re not wearing anything underneath. Your hand caught his wrist and you pulled hard, driving your knee directly into his crotch.

His grip on the knife released as he slowly sank to the ground and you swiped it easily. You give it a toss and catch it by the handle. Now the smile is on your face and there’s no pleasure in it as you stare down the final two gangsters.

One gives up and turns to run, arms pinwheeling comically as his oni mask jacket flapped in the breeze created by his own flight.

The last one was backing away, stumbling over his feet, crawling back upright. And when he does get up, you see something in his hand, shiny and black.

A gun. You hadn’t seen one in a while and you stopped. You couldn’t do anything about this. He just needed to pull the trigger and you were gone. But this was a world where you couldn’t die… right?

A man in a white shirt and black slacks leaped out from behind a car and a bright metal arc gave off sparks as it neatly cut the gun in half. Chu Zihang’s sword then rested its edge on the man’s throat

The man stared at his severed gun in silence a moment before he noticed the blade.

“Senpai!” You joyfully run forward and wrap your arms around Zihang.

Zihang looks bewildered, unsure of what to do. His free hand hovers over your shoulder… head… and then he settles on patting you on the back.

The man at his mercy is trembling in terror at the discovery that this warrior girl in a school uniform somehow has a ‘Senpai’ at all. His companions are already staggering away, one of them limping and bowlegged as he flees.

Chu Zihang raised his hand and rubbed his thumb and fingers together in the universal sign for ‘money’. You stick his tongue out at him.

The man was quick to oblige, tossing him his wallet. Chu Zihang lowered his sword. After examining the contents, he picked out a few bills and handed the man his wallet back but he was already running away.

“Were you just going to let him shoot you?” He asked.

You opened your mouth. “Yes… but!” You raise a finger to halt objections. “I knew something would happen to keep me from dying!”

Chu Zihang shook his head slowly. “Where’s Lu Mingfei and Caesar?”

Your expression sobers. “I don’t know. I was looking for the Internet Cafe…”

He walks over to a vending machine and puts in the money to buy you something to eat. You return to where the cat is resting on the trash can. “What a good kitty!” You whisper, ,gathering it up in your arms.

“You shouldn’t keep that.” The Machine is pouring out noodles with soup broth base. Your stomach rumbles and the cat meows.

“Is there something for Kitty?” You ask.

Chu Zihang sighs again. The man gave the whole wallet, after all. Chu Zihang orders some dried squid for the cat.

In a few moments both you and Kitty are sitting against the building. You’re so hungry that you scald your mouth on the soup, but you don't care. Chu Zihang is silent, still standing guard and watching. With your hunger sated, you look up at him. “You’re the team lead right?”

“Only if I find out Caesar is dead.”

“You think he’s alive? Do you want me to call you boss?”

“No.”

“Okay boss.”

You look up at him and he’s scowling at you, not in the mood for your jokes, or your kitten. “How did you survive?”

“You’re not going to believe this. A pod of dolphins brought me all the way here.”

Much to your surprise he believes you. “That’s true. The dolphins here are very friendly to the locals. In fact there was a story I read about that...”

There was a sudden cacophony of roaring engines. Chu Zihang grabs you and together you duck behind the parked cars. Motorcycles, dozens of them, are all roaring off in one direction, their lights streaming towards a single destination. Among them were vans filled with people with automatic weapons. Right after that, all the lights go out in Chizuru. From the tallest building, to the smallest house, even the lights illuminating the advertisements go dark.

Chu Zihang sighed deep in his chest. “I have a bad feeling Caesar is that way.”

#Dragon Raja

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jocia92 · 3 years

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(Google translated)

Dan Stevens, who grew up in Wales and south-east England, spent his summer holidays at the National Youth Theater at the age of 15, and he was drawn to the stage while studying English in Cambridge. Since his big breakthrough as Matthew Crawley in the hit series “Downton Abbey”, he has also repeatedly appeared in films such as “Inside Wikileaks - The Fifth Force”, “At Night in the Museum: The Secret Tomb” or “Beauty and the Beast” . Most recently, Stevens played the Russian Schnösel singer Lemtov in the Oscar-nominated comedy “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” from Netflix. At the beginning of June, the German film “Ich bin dein Mensch” by Maria Schrader celebrated at the Summer Berlinale Premiere, which starts on 1.7. comes to German cinemas regularly. Stevens plays the role of a love robot in it. Unlike on the screen, however, the 38-year-old prefers to speak English in the zoom-conducted interview. He chose a brick wall with a lion motif as the digital background. No allusion to the song “Lion of Love” from “Eurovision Song Contest”, but a photo of the famous Ishtar Gate in Berlin’s Pergamon Museum, where “I am your human” was filmed last summer.

Mr. Stevens, in your new film “I am your human” you play a humanoid robot that is entirely geared towards fulfilling the romantic needs of a skeptical scientist. You yourself recently described the film as “delightfully German”. How did you mean that?

I wanted to say that here pretty big questions - such as what actually makes a person or how much perfection love can take - are negotiated in a very light-footed, elegant and sometimes humorous way. In my experience that is a very German quality. At least I have often seen with many of my German colleagues and friends that they are very good at not discussing difficult issues exclusively deadly serious and melancholy.

Where does your personal connection to Germany and the German language come from?

My parents had friends who lived in Bielefeld and we used to visit them in North Rhine-Westphalia during the school holidays. Traveled from England by car! That’s how I learned a little German as a child, and later I learned it as a subject at school. I even did a short internship there through our friends in Bielefeld. I really love the language. Funnily enough, I was later able to use my knowledge of German professionally, because my first film was “Hilde”, in which I was next to Heike Makatsch played the British actor and director David Cameron, who was married to Hildegard Knef. After that, I always hoped that there might be another chance to speak German in front of the camera, because playing in a foreign language is an exciting challenge. When the chance arose to shoot “I am your person”, I could hardly believe my luck.

Did you know the director Maria Schrader who gave you this chance?

Funnily enough, when the script for the film landed on my table, I had just watched the Netflix series “Unorthodox”, which she directed. I had also watched a few episodes of “Deutschland 89”. In general, I knew that she was a great German actress, not least because friends who knew their way around the German theater scene often raved about her. Working with her was a joy now. Her understanding of actors is quite instinctive and brilliant. I have seldom seen someone who can help an actor who is having difficulties with a scene with such simple means.

The fact that you had already seen “Unorthodox” shows, of course, how quickly “I am your person” must have been implemented in the past year …

Oh yes, that was really quick. In March I was still in New York and was about to premiere a new play on Broadway. But then the pandemic came, everything was canceled and I flew back to my family in Los Angeles. A few weeks later, Maria and I met each other via Zoom - and shortly afterwards I was sitting outside in a café in the Berlin June sun for the first time in months to discuss the upcoming shoot with her. That was pretty surreal because I hadn’t actually left the house since March.

Is it correct that you oriented yourself to Cary Grant and Jimmy Stewart to portray the romantically programmed robot Tom?

In any case, these were role models that Maria and I spoke about. When you think of the game between the two of them, you always see an enormous clarity and directness. Cary Grant, for example, was always quite funny, especially in his romantic roles, but also flawless in an almost artificial way from today’s perspective. I found that very suitable for a robot. Apart from the fact that the ideas that Tom and his algorithm have of romance and love are certainly also shaped by the classic romantic comedies from Hollywood. Oh, the woman is sad, so I’ll bring her flowers! Such automatisms from the stories from back then were very appropriate for Tom now.

Keyword role models: Who shaped you in your career as an actor?

There were of course many. Jimmy Stewart was certainly something of a role model. My mom and I watched a lot of his films when I was little and I was always impressed by the kind of sweet tragedy that went into all of his roles. But maybe Robin Williams’ work influenced me even more. I always found the incredible variety of his films remarkable. He could make his audience laugh hysterically like no other, but also move them to tears in other roles. I always wanted to emulate this range.

In fact, the range of your roles is enormous and ranges from the Disney blockbuster “Beauty and the Beast” to a comic adaptation in series format such as “Legion” to bulky independent films such as “Her Smell” or the horror thriller “The Rental “, Which we just released on DVD. Is there a method behind this diversity?

Not in principle. I like variety, but I’m not just looking for roles that are as different as possible from one another. Rather, there are always similar factors that I use to select my projects. Sometimes there is a certain director that I really want to work with. Or the role itself is irresistible because it presents me with acting challenges. And sometimes a script is just fantastically written and I am interested in the topics it is about. With “I am your person” it was definitely the latter, especially since the timing was just right. In 2020 there were so many societal questions that ultimately touched the core of human existence. Such a script, which deals with something very similar in a light-footed way, was just fitting.

A few years ago you said in a questionnaire from the British Guardians that your greatest weakness was not being able to make up your mind. So every time you are offered a role, do you ponder whether you should accept?

No, no, when a script appeals to me, it actually does it very quickly. It’s such a gut feeling. If I’m unsure and skeptical, that’s a good indicator that this is not the right thing for me. That with the difficulty in making decisions related rather to something else. For example, it takes me forever to order in a restaurant because I can never decide what on the menu appeals to me the most.

You became famous with the role of Matthew Crawley in the series "Downton Abbey”. Did you immediately suspect at the time that something big was going on?

At first we were all pretty clueless. There are really many British history series, and we were one of them. When the first season aired in the US and was a huge success there, it was pretty unexpected. I never expected the impact the series would have on my career.

Barely ten years later, are you still being asked about the role?

Oh yes, regularly. Probably nothing will change about that either. I got out after three seasons!

In the meantime, however, the flamboyant Russian singer Alexander Lemtov from “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga” should also be a character with whom you will be immediately associated, right?

Right, it has been mentioned more and more recently when people recognize me on the street. This charming, silly film obviously had a nerve with the audience last year in the middle of the corona pandemic. Especially since the real Eurovision Song Contest had been canceled.

The film was the number one topic of conversation on the Internet for a while - and Lemtov GIFs and memes were everywhere. Did you follow that?

It was really hard to avoid it. I wasn’t looking specifically for what people were posting. But of course my friends passed a lot on to me, and there were already some very funny Lemtov things. But he’s also a figure made for GIFs.

Another question every British actor under 40 has to put up with these days: Would you like to become the next James Bond?

Oh, of course, everyone gets to hear this question again and again who meets certain criteria. But it is completely hypothetical. Although a few years ago I read in an audio book by Ian Fleming’s “Casino Royale”.

You mentioned earlier that you and your family have lived in the United States for a long time. How big is your homesickness?

I actually feel very comfortable in Los Angeles. But every now and then I miss the sidewalk culture of European cities. People on foot, street cafes, things like that. Last year the longing for it was particularly great, although it was of course clear to me that there was a state of emergency in Europe too. In any case, I found myself reading books that were set in Europe and made me homesick. Which is why the unexpected trip to Berlin was really a boon.

You are also an avid cricketer. That’s certainly difficult in Los Angeles, isn’t it?

There are quite a few cricket clubs here. The only problem is that the few people who do the sport here are so good at it that I have problems keeping up. That’s why I always lose sight of the matter here a little. Even as a pure TV viewer, it is not easy to stay on the ball, because of course there is no cricket broadcast here at prime time. But as soon as I’m home in England in the summer, I really want to play again!

#ich bin dein mensch #i'm your man #dan stevens #maria schrader #faz.net #interview #long post

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simprisottowriter · 4 years

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Helloo again can you write some fugo headcanons ? Some cute and funny like gyros would be very nice UwU

Wonderful to see you again, UwU anon! Your character choices for headcanons are so lovely! Fugo is multidimensional, well-written with such depth, even if his appearance in the series was short. He deserves more attention and love!! ♡♡ Let's shower this boy with appreciation, with these headcanons!

°☆ Personality, Private Life & Relationships ☆°

◇ Treasures cute things, like charms or pendants. To him, their monetary value doesn’t matter. Memories are what make him keep anything close to his heart. Hidden in plain sight is his keychain, a small red puppet charm that decorates his keys. Cutesy and delicately worn by time as all the other small trinkets he owns, that remind him of the nicer moments of his childhood.

◇ Might look very unapproachable, but once someone gets close to him, they see a completely different side of him. Thoughtful, tender and sympathetic wouldn’t be the words someone would use to describe Fugo the first time they met him, but would definitely be the first words that come to mind after being near him for a while. In his private life, he would be a bit strict, but very understanding and well-mannered. He is so professional at everything he does, that it is pretty impressive.

◇ Incredibly good at card games, board games and anything that requires strategy. Wins most of the times. He doesn’t even try hard to win anymore, since he only plays with Mista and Narancia, as everyone else in Bruno’s team is too busy. They both just get confused at the game rules and do anything else than play properly, as Fugo just stares deadpan at them till they follow the rules. He can't help but laugh along with them with their antics. Even if he feels like he is babysitting them most of the time, he loves them much.

◇ Acts like he doesn’t find them even a teensy bit funny, but he adores puns and silly jokes! Tries to act serious all the time, that it’s so out of character when he secretly laughs at any ridiculous joke Narancia and Mista say.

◇ Loves art! In all its forms. But mostly adores painting. You could probably show him a painting, and no matter how famous or not it is, he would recognize the artist solely from the art style. Bruno’s Passione considers it some sort of game to continually show random pictures of art to Fugo to recognize them, till he either gets angry or they get bored. Did I say that he loves abstract art and surrealism?

◇ When no one is around, Fugo passes his time like he always used to, by playing the piano. It is one of the most wonderful moments, that his teammates treasure, to listen to the piano playing while unlocking the door, as they return from a difficult mission. Brings the serenity back to their hearts. Makes them forget for a moment about their stressful work. Would also play soft Brahms and Bach music pieces, to ease insomnia and make a sleepless night bearable ♡

◇ More academically skilled than socially skilled, but he is trying his best! Small talk isn’t his greatest thing, but he is the best person to have around for deep conversations or debating. He is knowledgeable about many subjects and could keep the conversation interesting for hours with his facts and ideas.

◇ Loves it when he can share his interests and personal thoughts, without being ignored or belittled. Values trust more than anything.

◇ And once he finds someone he truly trusts, Fugo’s anger and fear will subside. Most notably, this would be easy to recognize not only from Fugo himself, but from Purple Haze. The stand would appear more often, but this time, more controllable, more tame and less dangerous than before, till it is completely harmless on its own. And not only that, but once Fugo manages to fully control Purple Haze, its performance and power would be unmatchable!

◇ Appreciates it with all his heart when someone helps him with his tasks. Even if he won’t admit it or even does all his chores by himself just to prove that he is very independent, he really wants a helping hand. Even if it is just staying by his side. Staying up late to aid his studying or helping him with daily problems of small importance are favors he would definitely return in the future. Acts of service and some fine quality time are a must for Fugo ♡

◇ Cleaning around the house or doing chores might be a hassle for many, but he actually likes them. Once he finds a place that he feels safe enough to settle in, that he can call his own, he is going to take care of it as much as he could.

◇ Gets disappointed in himself when he does absentmindedly a calculation wrong. It has stuck with him that he must excel in everything, and thus criticizes every small mistake he does. He’s a perfectionist to the core. Even if others around him understand and immediately forgive him, his expectations for himself have been raised too high, from all the events that took place in his past. It's difficult for him to loosen up.

◇ Emanates a soft scent of old books, perfume and a flowery aroma of freshly cleaned clothing. Feels just like home.

◇ Knitting and sewing are some of his favorite hobbies. They keep him at ease and make his intense anger disappear. He has a collection of small plushies he made himself. Refuses to show them, since he doesn’t believe they look well-made or worth showing, but in reality they are some of the cutest plushies you've ever seen!

◇ Has collections of worn-out books. With covers discolored and tattered from hours of reading next to the light of the nightstand. Their pages are slightly crumpled all over the edges, and remained as such, even if he constantly tried to straighten them out. Their white color, along with the letters, have been slightly faded and tinted brown. His bookshelves are filled with them. Upon inspection, you can recognize which book he is reading, even if most of them have a bookmark sticking out of them. His current read always has his most favorite handmade bookmark, a special request from a store in Naples.

◇ Won't be the person to approach others, but wait till someone else does the first move. He doesn’t believe he is worth someone's time, thus refuses to start anything. Usually never takes the lead, since every time he made the choice to stand up for himself, it cost him happy times of his life that he couldn't replace.

◇ Needing glasses won't be something he would admit. Even if his eyesight isn't that bad, he has always a pair of white-framed glasses in his pocket when he needs to read something up close. Wears them often when he is reading on his own, and not really in public.

◇ Has learned enough about cooking to be able to live on his own, but he is especially great at brewing tea or coffee. These are his go-to drinks, depending on the time of day or his schedule. Also loves sweets way too much!

◇ Refuses to realize that he deserves love and much, much caring. Really undervalues himself.

◇ His whole body would probably freeze if someone held his hand. Mainly, he wouldn’t know how to react and would be very embarrassed about it. Though, he is so touch and attention starved that even a small movement that shows care and love would stay in his mind forever. A hug would send him. He wouldn't probably know how to articulate a sentence after that.

◇ Though, he flinches very easily when someone attempts to get close to him or touch him, like with a friendly pat on a back or his head. Not only that, but his speech becomes weaker and faster than before, he keeps looking away and his breath cannot regulate. Repressed memories of painful times flow back again. He cannot realize the person he has in front of him doesn't want to hurt him, and his body instinctively is on guard. The flinching stops when he is fully used to someone's presence, and trusts them with all his heart. He is worth the patience someone could give him, since he is a sweetheart!

◇ You can notice when he is in high spirits, since he hums joyfully the melody of his favorite songs while doing rather mundane tasks. At first it is very unnoticeable, but after you learn his behavior, you understand what makes him happy, even if he doesn't show it. Turns really bashful and tries to hide his embarrassment by looking away and sighing, when someone recognizes which song he is humming. He holds his personal interests (such as his music taste) very close to him and keeps them hidden, so it's a surprise to him to find someone that tries to break the walls he has built up. Oh, and since I mentioned his music taste, he would probably be a fan of rock, but I believe he would like any song that he just likes the vibe of it.

◇ As roughly explained above, a very private person. About his thoughts, past life and his current feelings. Takes a while for him to fully open up to someone. And even if he finds someone he trusts, he has a hard time letting all his emotions out. Knowing himself and how his feelings burden him, he refuses to let others know he truly feels. Repressing all his emotions, just because he doesn't want his loved ones to feel the pain he does. Deeply cares, even if he hides it under layers of anger. Caring and strong, as always.

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writingsfromhome · 4 years

Text

Collaboration

A/N: This one's told from Harry's pov. I just wanted to have some fun with dialogue, trying fluff for once (I think?)

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

The flashing lights on the red carpet bring back the headache that was pounding my temples since this morning. I grit my teeth and pose for the last show before making eye contact with my manager. I’m ushered along, a few people calling out for an interview. My manager whispers one would be good for image so I sigh and find myself in one of those millenial gossip journalists.

She asks what I’m wearing, I show off the shimmery fabric of my pantsuit and the fringe on the legs.

“So we heard rumours, Y/N Y/L/N and you are working on an album together?”

I lean in and pretend to look intrigued but my heart picks up speed just from hearing her name. “Who said that?”

The journalist plays her part and laughs at my joke. I say seriously, “I would love to collab with her anytime, she’s a legend. But I haven't even got her digits."

She says something sympathetic, "maybe things will change tonight."

"I hope so! I'm even wearing my liucky ring," I show it off to the camera. Finally the bit is over and I walk into the cool building. People are already breaking into groups and lost guests look for their name.

I knew I would see Y/N today, it was always a mystery whether she would show up to these award shows. She started young in the industry, a child-actor turned singer when she released a single to a movie she starred in as a teen and it stayed in the top charts for months. She was pretty private as far as celebrities went and she didn't always show up to these things. But the couple times I interacted with her we had hit it off. The first was just a casual acquaintance when our mutual friend introduced each other at a premiere.

The second, though, was at a restaurant. The people I was having dinner with invited her party to our table. She had ended up squished beside me but we talked the whole night. We thought alike and turned out she was a big fan of my music, had even attended my concert, proven by some photos she showed me on her phone. I confessed I had a big crush on her in her earlier movies when I was a kid. She teased me and I let her. But we forgot to exchange numbers so I didn't actually talk to her after that. If we had, I would definitely ask her about collaborating.

"Just had to ask Jen, here." My manager comes by with a bottle of water and the painkiller in my hand. I take it gratefully and then he pushes me to my seat. I glance around, a couple familiar names. But mostly it seemed like I was seated with couples. To be the 7th wheel. And my chair had its back to the stage. Whoever planned this did not like me.

The lead up to the start of the awards is a rush of hugs and catching up with people. It isn't until I sit down, my chair turned to face the stage, that I realise Y/N is here and sitting a table down, her chair angled to the stage but she catches my eye.

I can't help the smile that overtakes my face but I manage to resist waving at her like a child. She gives me a nod but her lips tug up into a shy smile as she focuses her eyes on the stage.

We get introductions, a skit, and a performance. They announce some winners and then they announce the surprise performance by Y/N. I hadn't even realised she'd left.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the stage blacking out until a single light shines. Y/N steps under it and begins, it starts off slow but by the chorus there are dancers and an old school car and a gown with fake blood as she sits atop the car with the dagger sticking out of her chest as she belts out her song. The final notes ring out when she pulls the dagger free and it clatters to the floor. And the entire audience goes crazy. I'm standing clapping and grinning like an idiot. Y/N makes eye contact with me and winks. People turn in my direction but I don't make it obvious it was me. I didn't want any rumours about us.

As the night moves forward, I catch eyes with Y/N a few times. The first time I raise my eyebrows and mimick pulling a dagger out of my chest. She hides her smile behind the pamphlet. The second time she catches me staring at her, she pretends to look annoyed and I pretend to hide my face with my hand. When I check her face she's trying to hide her laugh. Someone behind her leans in to whisper something but she keeps her eyes on me.

I feel like I'm on cloud 9. Not only did I finally see Y/N after so long but she remembered me. And I think she was flirting with me! Maybe she would show up to the after party.

During the break, she motions to the meet her in the foyer and I don't even wait a few minutes. I'm right behind her and follow her into a little enclosure off to the side.

"Hi," I say casually.

"Hi," she smiles. "Long time no see. I like what you're wearing."

"Thanks. You look lovely yourself. I wasn't sure I would see you tonight."

"It's been a while since I've been plucked and prodded and red-carpet ready. A girl misses the feeling of flashing lights and ten reporters asking what you're wearing." She flips her hair over her shoulder, sarcasm in full effect.

"Sounds like you need a drink," I suggest.

"God, yes." She grabs my arm and I lead her to the bar, she leans in next to me as I order for us.

I watch as she takes a sip of the drink I ordered for her. She looks surprised and takes another sip. It settles in even more how normal this felt. And my childhood crush never really went away.

"You should order for me more often. I usually just stick to what I know." She comments.

"Then you should go out with me more often," I say.

She responds by clinking her glass against mine, a mischevious look in her eye.

"What's that look?" I ask.

"What look?"

"The one you're giving me right now!"

"I'm just looking at you!"

"Then what are you thinking? Because you're not just looking at me! You're giving me the look!"

"The look," she scoffs like I was making it up.

"It's there," I tap her temples. "What are you thinking in there?"

"I really don't think you want to know what I'm thinking," she says into her drink.

"No, now I really want to know," I wait for her to move the glass away from her mouth.

"No you don't. It's...not very appropriate." She doesn't look me in the eyes, pretending to be interested on what the little menus read.

"Inappropriate thoughts are my favourite," I say. She looks up and is about to say something.

"Harry!" Someone calls from the side and I'm disappointed that the conversation is cut short. I wanted to know even though I already knew but I greet some friends instead. when I turn backY/N's gone. Damn.

I find her back in her seat but she's talking to a few women I remember she was in movies with in her early days. But it's like she senses me because she turns to look as I sit down. I narrow my eyes at her, she looks away.

When I win for single of the year, I stumble onto stage. I was sure I wouldn't win this. Luckily my manager had made me practice something on the way here just in case but every word leaves my brain when I glance at Y/N and she has the same expression from earlier. I knew she was thinking something inappropriate and that just clears my head of anything except her.

"Sorry I've got some stage fright it seems," I joke and everyone laughs. Phew.

I manage to get some words out, give my thanks and walk back to my table in a daze. People congratulate me but I barely know who. This was a dream come true for me, and nearby a very dreamy woman was giving me eyes and I didn't know how this night could get any more surreal.

But it does.

***

By the time I get ready to leave for the afterparty, I'd waited for inscribing and more congrats, some pictures and group pictures of winners. I'm tired and stop by my hotel to change into something more casual. I didn't see Y/N and I give up hope that I would. Her going to an awards show and an afterparty were rare. She must have disappeared again, without leaving her number. I would just have to wait for a next time.

But when I get to my hotel door, a figure sits outside it.

"Hello?" I call from afar, if this was a fan that somehow got in there was going to be a security issue. But the person looks up and it's just Y/N. Her glam from earlier is wiped off, she has on just tights and a tanktop. She quickly stands up.

"I didn't see you at the party. Wasn't much in the mood to mingle. I thought I would try your room."

"How did you know my room?" I ask as I open the door and leave it open for her.

"I'm a floor above, I saw you leave."

"So you're stalking me now?" I ask.

"If I remember correctly you were the one watching me all night."

"Really?" I drop my things on the floor and dig through the drawer for a shirt and jeans. "If I remember, you were the one with inappropriate thoughts."

"I never said that," she says as she picks up the award I put on the table. "Congratulations by the way. You totally deserve this like I told you!"

Y/N references part of the conversation we had at that dinner. When she revealed she was a fan, said she was in the industry for years and she saw I had promise.

"And that compliment kept me going through the whole album." It was true, she gave me a boost of confidence that helped keep me focused and crank it out in time.

"So where's my shoutout?" She sits on the desk, her feet swinging back and forth.

"Third song on the album," I say smoothly.

"Really?" She stares. The song was about a mystery woman just being the girl next door. Exactly how I felt about Y/N. "You wrote a song about me? Wow. Not even my exes have given me the honour."

"You deserve a million songs written about you," I say truthfully. Y/N was a special woman-misunderstood and misinterpreted. But she was a powerful singer and a funny, honest, and kind human.

"You're a sweet-talker Harry Styles." Y/N leans back and I can't avoid the way the fabric of her tanktop stretches over her body. She notices and smirks. "It's unfortunate you're just all talk though."

"All talk?" I decide two can play at the game. I take off my silk shirt and wait a few before slipping on my tshirt. I notice her eyes trailing down my body and it gives me the confirmation to step towards her. I put my hands on her thighs, and she parts her legs automatically. I step in between them but stay inches away from her face, "I do more than just talk."

"So show me," she says, her gaze going down to my lips.

"Only if you tell me what you were thinking tonight," I challenge.

"You're still on that?"

"I want to know."

"How about I show you instead."

In a surprising move, she pushes me back and stands up before shoving me onto the bed. It takes me a moment to recover but I'm smiling as the whole Y/N finally comes out of her shell. She peels the tanktop off of her and walks towards me. I lean back on my elbows.

"I wish you showed me earlier," I say. She shuts me up with a passionate kiss.

***

I'd lost track of time, the rising sun the only tell of how much time had passed. Y/N lies on the pillow beside me, her face peaceful as she sleeps. Her hand is loosely intertwined through mine between us. It was a wild night collaborating after all-just not in a way we wanted share. I almost want to pinch myself to be sure this was real. The woman of my dreams with me tonight. Several times over. Asleep as the first rays of sun leave a soft glow on her skin. She was as beautiful as ever.

I must have fallen asleep too because I wake up with a pressure on my chest. I'm flat on my back and Y/N's head is resting on my chest as she stares at my face.

"I can see up your nose," she comments.

"Stop looking," I mumble in my croaky morning voice.

"I can't stop. It's just so dark and unexplored."

I close my eyes again, not realising she'd taken my finger to stick up my nose until she does. I sit up and she's thrown off of me. I sneeze once, and again. And turn to her.

"I don't like that loo-" she shouts as I pull her to me and hold her down to climb over her. I sneeze again as she wriggles underneath but pretty soon she stops as I kiss her.

"You're lucky I'm so nice," I say into her neck as I kiss her. "Or you would be in a lot more trouble."

"You are not nice," she giggles. "You didn't let me explore up your nos-okay okay!"

She cuts off as I tickle her sides, crying out to stop, saying she can't breathe. "I'll show you not nice," I tell her. I hold her hands above her head and pin it there before I kiss her down her body. She tries to free my grip but I hold on, using my other hand to move lower than my mouth could.

"You wouldn't," she looks me in the eye as I kiss her again.

"Well I'm not very nice," I whisper and watch her squirm underneath me. I finally let go of her hands and she pulls me to her to grip, rolling me over when I'm done so she's on top.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Styles." She tells me while I laugh at how flushed she'd gotten but I quiet when she pulls my arms up like I did to her and somehow finds the robe tie from the floor to tie them in place. "I'm not very nice either."

"Well who said I like nice girls?" I ask her. She only smiles before pulling the blanket over our heads and making sure she tortures me in the best possible way.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #celeb harry #fic #one shot #i think

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sammysreelreviews · 4 years

Text

9 New and Returning Shows to Catch in 2020

Hello welcome to 2020!!! I hope you have enjoyed my decade countdowns I have previously posted! I’m so excited to start a fresh new year and decade!!! It blows my mind that in 2030 I’ll be almost 40. Ugh I wanna be young forever. ANYWHO, some of my favorite shows are coming back or are back and there are a few new shows I’m very excited about watching! Before I begin can y’all let me know if you want me to do a reality tv show list? I watch so much reality tv and was wondering if anyone else does. Ok so here’s the list I hope y’all enjoy it!

1. Dare Me

The new show about a cheerleading squad with a mysterious new coach is bound to be a favorite. It’s based on Meg Abbot’s book of the same name and if it’s anything like that jaws are going to drop.

Where to watch: Every Sunday at 10p/9c on USA

2. Spinning Out

Kaya Scodelario plays an ice skater named Kat that is trying to recover from a skating accident. She has a little sister who also competes named Serena (Willow Shields) who has an attitude and a mother (January Jones) who deals with a bipolar disorder. This show has romance, ice skating, and it really gets into what it’s like to have a mental illness. I will warn you guys that a character does have manic moments due to not taking medication and I know that can be triggering! Otherwise the show is great and I need a season two now!

Where to watch: Currently streaming on Netflix

3. You (Season 2)

Joe (Penn Badgley) is back and he’s still creepy but he’s now creepy in LA! Can’t say much cause I don’t wanna give away season one to people who haven’t watched yet but it was definitely a rollercoaster of a season.

Where to watch: Currently streaming on Netflix

4. Dollface

This show about a girl named Jules (Kat Dennings) who gets dumped by her boyfriend and crawls back to the girlfriends she neglected is very relatable. I mean we all have had a friend at one point that’s just obsessed with their significant other. Dollface is not only funny but it’s surreal in some sequences. If you love girl power, laughing, Shay Mitchell, Brenda Song, Kat Dennings, and some amazing celeb cameos, this is the show for you!

Where to watch: Currently streaming on Hulu

5. Party of Five

In the reboot of Party of Five the Acosta children are left to fend for themselves when their mom and dad are deported back to Mexico. Ok so the first episode is already up on Hulu and y’all, the way I SOBBED. I love how they changed the plot to reflect the struggles that a ton of immigrants face today. The cast is so good together and I just know it’s going to be Freeform’s best new snow!

Where to watch: Every Wednesday starting January 8th at 8p/7c on Freeform and streaming on Hulu the next day

6. Good Trouble (Season 2)

The Foster sisters are back for another drama filled season and I’m so excited. The Christmas special was so good and if thats any indication of whats to come I’m over the moon.

Where to watch: Every Wednesday starting January 15th at 10p/9c on Freeform and streaming on Hulu the next day

7. Grownish (Season 3)

Zoe and the gang are back for another season of shenanigans but the real question is, WHO THE FUCK IS PREGNANT?!

Where to watch: Every Thursday at 8p/7c starting January 16th on Freeform and streaming on Hulu the next day

8. Sex Education (Season 2)

The comedy I ended up loving is back for a second season. I must admit I didn’t watch this show for awhile but I started feeling left out on twitter so I decided to binge it. I’m not going to lie I don’t really remember where the show left off (I watch too much tv) but I just know I’m ready for this new season!

Where to watch: All episodes streaming on Netflix January 17th

9. The Other Two

If you loved Broad City this is 100% the show for you. I don’t wanna give anything away but please watch it and tell me how you hard your laughed. Thankfully they’re making a season two and hopefully a thousand more.

Where to watch: Comedy Central On Demand

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juminsmysticmc · 4 years

Note

Can you do RFA + V and Saeran with MC who is very insecure about a scar on their chest from a heart surgery? Sorry if that's a little specific you dont have to do it if you dont want to

⚠️RFA + Minor Duo with a MC who is very insecure about a scar on her chest from a heart surgery Trigger Warnings

Hey dear! Are you alright? I hope so, none should feel insecure about their scars because ,,You should know you’re beautiful just the way you are, and you don’t have to change a thing the world could change its heart No scars to your beautiful we are stars and we are beautiful,’’ this song was once my favorite one! I wish you the best, my love! BTW, I am watching a KDrama which is about a girl with heart surgery and I thought this was a pretty funny coincidence….Okay! Now enjoy!

Jumin

Happy about your husband’s presents from Italy, you opened the package.

Your hands uncovered the package from the thin satin and opened the blue box.

A beautiful white dress with little pearls on it decollects.

You had to gasp due to its beauty.

,,Jumin, there was no need!’’ you giggled and pulled it out to take a better look at it.

,,My love, nothing in the world would be enough for you,’’ he confessed and stroked your hair to give you a kiss on your cheek and ask you to put it on.

You nodded and took the dress with you to change into the beautiful dress.

However, as soon as you had it on and looked at yourself in the mirror, you noticed something extremely ugly.

Your heart ached as you softly brushed over the big scar on your chest.

,,Ugly,’’ you whispered.

,,Such a beautiful dress and here you are, destroying its beauty,’’ you hissed to yourself and tried to cover the scar.

Just when you tried to put your hand over the spot, someone took your hand.

,,Beautiful,’’ someone you knew told you.

,,That is the sign of true beauty. Strength, hope, beauty. This dress fits perfectly on you. I am proud of you and your fight. You had a weak heart, but you could fight. You should be proud of this scar and show it off, instead of hiding it,’’ Jumin told you and kissed your soft lips.

Maybe he was right after all.

Even though you were still unsure, with him by your side who didn’t think badly of you, you could endure it.

Zen

,,Let’s go to the beach!’’ Yoosung begged in the chatroom, causing everyone to feel energetic and agree with the blond boy.

Well, everyone except you.

As you looked through your wardrobe, you couldn’t find a single bikini that could cover your scar.

You gulped.

Zen already saw your scar. He knew what the ugly spot on your scar looked like.

The other members of the RFA didn’t.

And you really didn’t want to tell them.

You didn’t want to worry them or even talk about the issue you had.

The reason why you had to sit down so often, why you couldn’t go into the water and swim with them, or why you couldn’t run.

You just didn’t want to tell them, but thanks to the scar you probably had to.

Tears began to flow as you feared their reaction.

Suddenly, Zen came in a big smile on his face which disappeared as soon as he saw your tears.

,,Jagyia, is everything alright?’’ he worriedly asked you, brushing your cheek and looking at your face.

You looked up at him and suddenly hugged him, telling him about how unsure you were.

,,But Mc,’’ he began and looked at you.

,,It’s okay. They will understand. They will accept it and won’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable, I promise. And if they do, I’ll fight them.

But you don’t need to feel scared at all…’’ he tried to tell you.

,,But if you really don’t feel ready yet, it’s okay. I will always support you and love you. So let’s stay at home if it makes you feel better. Or let’s go quickly and grab a new swimsuit which can cover the part you want. Whatever you decide, princess, I will understand and support you,’’ he whispered, making you feel much better.

,,It’s okay,’’ you mumbled, taking his hand and nodded.

,,You give me strength.’’

Yoosung

,,I’m so excited,’’ Yoosung gasped and hugged you from behind.

The both of you agreed on today.

It was odd that you guys kept talking about it, but you really prepared for the night.

The night.

You would lose your virginity to him tonight. You guys agreed on today.

But on the other hand, you still didn’t feel ready yet.

You were struggling.

Your poor heart was beating crazily and you felt it.

The stabbing pain in your chest whenever your heart was beating too quickly.

Immediately, you grabbed the painful spot and went down on your knees.

,,Mc!’’ he called out to you and got down for you to check on his beloved girlfriend.

When you were better, you finally told him the issue.

,,I was panicking,’’ you began, looking at him.

,,I was scared because… you’ve never seen it. The scar,’’ you said the last sentence in a whisper.

Yoosung looked at you.

,,Scar?’’ he repeated after you.

The soft shirt in front of your chest disappeared as you showed him your skin and the red scar which was left from your last heart surgery.

,,I have a weak heart. Luckily, I’m alright now, but in the past you could say that I lived in the hospital. I’m alive, but in order for me to stay alive I need to pay a price. I think that my price is this scar,’’ you quickly tried to cover your body again when Yoosung stopped you.

,,You look amazing. It’s beautiful. You are. There’s no need to worry. I love you. Not for your beauty, but for who you are.

You are, Mc. You are you,’’ he whispered and kissed you.

,,We don’t have to do anything tonight. Let’s just relax and cuddle,’’ with that he hugged you and laid back.

You wondered inside your head how much it took him to act like that, smiling at him and hugging him.

,,Thank you.’’

Jaehee

The reflection in the mirror showed you and the scar.

The one which was left from the surgery you had just a bit ago when you suddenly collapsed on your girlfriend Jaehee.

It all went so quickly.

One moment ago, you were laughing with Zen and Yoosung as well as with her in your shop and the next moment you felt pure pain and just fell backwards.

Their screams were still in your head.

The moment was so surreal.

And so, the long journey of you and your illness began.

But you won.

However, you now had the scar from this war, making you insecure about everything.

You didn’t even allow Jaehee to look at you yet.

However, the woman you thought of entered the room just at that moment, making you shriek and cover the scar with your hands.

,,Mc,’’ Jaehee spoke up, approaching you.

She grabbed your hand and made sure that she could see the spot.

,,You‘re gorgeous,’’ she said and looked up at you, tears flowing down as her chest was naked.

,,I know, this isn’t the best way,’’ Jaehee apologized.

,,But I just wanted to say that I love you. I love you and this part of you. I’m sorry if I made a mistake. Just know that I like you,’’ just when she was about to stop you, you grabbed her and fell in her arms, hugging her.

,,I’m sorry for leaving you out for so long. It’s ugly… I thought you would never want to watch me again…’’ you confessed and sobbed in her arms.

,,I love you,’’ Jaehee whispered, brushing your scar and softly kissing you.

Saeyoung

,,Why do we always have to turn off the lights? Is it some kink?’’ Saeyoung asked you as he stood next to the light switch.

You began to fumble with your fingers.

He was right. He wanted to see you after all. But even after you began to live in his house, you didn’t want to show him your body.

The scar on your chest.

It made you feel insecure and scared that he wouldn’t want to touch you anymore.

You looked down, without giving him an answer until he spoke up again.

,,Is it because of the scar? Your heart surgery?’’ he suddenly asked you as if he already knew about your childhood. It was as if he already knew every detail.

It was as if he spent the birthdays with you in the hospital room. It was as if he opened the Christmas presents with you.

Slowly, your eyes stayed glued on his figure.

,,You knew?’’ you asked him, unsure about how you should react.

,,Yes, well, I had to do a background check on you, remember? And I found out… and I simply began to think, you know...?’’ he tried to explain.

You slowly began to smile while the tears began to fall down on the soft bed sheets.

,,I’m sorry…’’ you mumbled.

,,Don’t be,’’ Saeyoung whispered and hugged you, stroking your back.

,,It must have been hard on you, right? It’s okay, yeah? Mc, look at me. You can do whatever you want. I can switch off the light. Sorry for saying that dumb joke earlier.

But you can also show me the scar. We can talk. I love you. Whatever you decide, it’s okay with me so don’t worry, please…’’ Saeyoung begged you when he cupped your cheeks, making you smile at his cute words.

Saeran

You nibbled at your lips as you counted the pills you had to take.

,,Two, three… six…’’ you sighed.

This wasn’t a life you wanted to live forever.

Suddenly, Saeran walked in, something he never did while he was still working.

Jumin gave him three days of home office work in the week since he was also still weak and not good with too many people.

That’s when your boyfriend saw you with the pills.

Observing you, he immediately understood that it was something serious.

Something he still didn’t know back then.

,,Tell me,’’ he ordered and sat down next to you.

As if he would attack you any moment. you put your hands over your chest.

,,Heart?’’ he whispered, his voice was trembling. You could see that he was about to cry.

,,It’s… yes. My heart. But I’m better and stronger now. It’s just… I need to take them. It’s okay…’’ you nodded.

,,Then, why do you still look so sad?’’ Saeran asked you, brushing your hair with his hand and smiling at you.

You couldn’t hide anything from him, could you?

,,It’s… now you found out… and so, you will soon see my scar too… And I’m scared of that day,’’ you told him honestly.

Your boyfriend nodded at your words and took your hand, kissing them and looking into your eyes again.

,,It’s you. It’s still you. It’s normal to feel insecure. I do too… everyone does. That’s another reason to show everyone and be proud. Especially you, who won a fight, Mc… you can always talk to me and I will never make you do something that makes you feel uncomfortable, but know that you are good enough,’’ he told you, making you feel stronger and full of bravery.

Jihyun

,,I had an open heart surgery when I was little. I can’t even remember. My mother just told me about it,’’ you told Lucy.

Your hands were trembling and you were sweating.

You were scared and you could feel the urge to throw up.

Fear grew bigger and bigger as the little child observed you. Her eyes were glued on your chest.

,,Did it hurt?’’ she asked you.

Trying to fake a smile, you told her that you couldn’t remember, but that you guessed that you weren’t in pain at all.

You already scared her with the ugly scar. There was no way that you would tell her that you probably were in a lot of pain.

You were just becoming secure about the scar thanks to Jihyun, but right now you felt just like the first couple of times when he saw you naked.

Just that this time, your daughter saw you and began to cry in panic when she saw it, making you feel bad about it too.

,,Mommy needs to rest now, okay? You can go and play in the living room. I will follow you soon,’’ Jihyun quickly said, smiling at his adopted daughter and quickly hugging you as soon as she was outside.

,,You did well! My Mc is so strong and so brave! Well done…!’’ he told you and patted your head as you began to shed a few tears.

,,Jihyun, what if she will be disgusted by me now?’’ you asked him, scared for the future mother-daughter relationship.

,,Don’t worry,’’ he began.

,,She’s a good girl. She was just shocked because she thought that you were hurt, not because you seemed disgusting to her. Don’t worry, okay?’’ he asked you and kissed your soft lips, ready to make you lie down.

The thing about you needing to rest wasn’t a lie after all.

And so, you luckily went to sleep reassured.

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

24.06.2020// ??:?? MEST

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years

Text

Prey in the Snow

Featuring Marigold, my Final Girl OC and Graham, my Slasher OC

Summary: An unconventional love story: Girl meets boy. Girl flirts with boy. Boy roofies girl. Boy hunts girl for sport.

Warnings: Violence, blood, gore, swearing, drugging, drinking, weapons, supernatural elements

Raucous laughter erupts near the pool tables. The match has finally ended, Jeff victorious and rubbing Derek’s loss in his face. Marigold smiles over her beer at the antics. She shrugs further in her jacket when the front door swings open, icy air pouring into the little bar along with a couple that must stomp off the snow clinging to their boots.

His gloating now complete, Jeff asks, “Where’s Tanya and Silvie? It’s their turn.”

“Oh, they’re trying to flirt with that guy at the bar,” Marigold motions to the bar top with her beer. Two of her friends stand giggling next to a good-looking guy in a camouflage baseball cap. He’s hunched over his beer and Marigold has yet to see him crack a smile.

“Yeah, he’s not biting. Go and rescue them, would ya?” Jeff asks, batting his eyelashes. Marigold raises an eyebrow, fixing Jeff with a withering look, “Oh, c’mon, Goldie. You need to get laid. It’s been foreverrrr. Besides, he’s been looking at you all night.”

Marigold is taken aback by that. She hadn’t caught him looking, but Jeff wouldn’t lie about something like that. Peering at the guy out of the corner of her eye, she must fight to keep herself from bristling with excitement. He certainly is cute…really cute.

Marigold sighs dramatically before downing the rest of her beer and standing.

“That’s the spirit!” Jeff shouts, clinking her empty glass with his own.

As she makes her way toward the bar, Marigold musses her dark locks and straightens her jacket. A few butterflies flap annoyingly around in her stomach. It’s just a guy. She can talk to him, no big deal.

“Better hurry up ladies, or Jeff’s gonna steal your turn at the table,” Marigold announces, slipping into the chair on the other side of Baseball Cap Guy.

“Oh, he better not!” Sylive warns, grabbing Tanya’s jacket and hauling her away. Marigold suppresses a grin and nods to the bartender at the other end of the bar.

“What’re you drinking?” Marigold’s hazel eyes meet deep green as she turns to face Baseball Cap Guy. He’s even better looking up close; tan skin, strong jaw covered in a light dusting of dark stubble, full lips, long eye lashes, shaggy chocolate colored hair. His soft, deep voice has the slightest hint of southern drawl.

“Oh, that’s nice of you,” she replies with a smile, “Just a beer. Whatever you’re having.” The guy nods and gives the order to the bartended.

“Was nice of you to come get your friends,” he explains, turning back to his beer and tracing a thumb along the rim of the glass. Marigold searches his profile for a hint of expression—is he annoyed, amused, interested—but his face is blank.

“Ah, they’re not so bad. They just thought you were cute,” she teases, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She takes a sip of her beer and notices Baseball Hat Guy glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He only hums in response before sipping his own drink.

“Not your type?” Marigold asks. She picks at a fray along the cracking leather edge of the bar top.

“Not really,” he says. She glances up just in time to see a small smile fall from his lips.

“What is your type?” she asks, biting her lip before taking a nervous sip from her glass. He looks over at her out of his peripheral again, this time meeting her gaze.

“Brunettes wearing leather jackets,” he says, the small smile returning. Marigold giggles, fighting a blush. Dear god, he has dimples.

“What’s your type?” he asks, finally turning to face her.

She grins before replying, “Soft spoken, stoic guys wearing baseball caps.” He chuckles quietly, looking down at his muddy boots then back up to Marigold’s face.

“I’m Graham.”

“Marigold,” she says, taking his outstretched hand. His skin is warm against hers and his calloused palm grates pleasantly against her own, “But everyone calls me Goldie, cuz of my hair. It’s funny, you see.” She motions to her dark locks with an eyeroll. Graham smiles in response.

“Goldie, that’s—

“Goldie! We’re going down to O’Neil’s! Let’s goooo!” Tanya calls from across the room as the rest of her friends don their jackets and hats.

“Guess that’s you,” Graham says, smiling wryly and leaning back in his chair. Marigold curses their timing.

“Graham, it was nice to meet you, but if you don’t have anything else to do tonight, you know where to find me.” She winks and slides out of her chair. Giving him one final smile over her shoulder, she pulls her hood up and heads out into the chilly winter air.

Marigold and her friends spend the rest of the evening at O’Neil’s, a sticky Irish pub with the best beer prices. She dances, she drinks, she laughs, all while keeping a close eye on the front door. Her heart leaps every time it bangs open, but there is still no sign of Graham.

“Last call!” shouts the bartender.

“Shots, bitches! Drink up!” Jeff returns to the table, hands full of little glasses of Patron. Everyone groans, but takes their drink anyway. Everyone but Marigold.

“Jeff, take mine. That last beer didn’t sit very well.” Her stomach churns as she speaks, her head beginning to pound.

“Pfft, hoe, drink your damn shot!” Tanya shouts, tossing back the burning liquid.

“I got’chu, baby cakes” Jeff slurs, retrieving Marigold’s shot.

“Love you. ‘M gonna go ousside for a minnet.” Marigold slips out of her chair and makes her way to the door, stumbling a bit as she goes. Her surroundings spin and blur as she pushes against the door. She hadn’t had that much to drink. What is happening?

Outside, a blast of icy air hits her exposed skin and she stumbles, stomach dropping in anticipation of a fall. Warm hands seize her shoulders and push her upright. Blearily, Marigold glances up to find dark green eyes searching her own.

“Oh, hey, iss…it’s you. Grahaam cracckerrr,” she slurs, “I think sommin’ was wrong wif my beeeer….”

Graham says nothing, instead bending down and lifting Marigold off her feet, carrying her bridal style down the street and into the alley.

“Where…where’re goin’?” Marigold’s eyes drift shut. With difficulty, she pries them open, only to snap them closed again as the world shifts and lurches. Distantly, she hears a vehicle door slam shut, then another, then nothing at all.

***

It is the silence that finally wakes Marigold. Before, the noisy hum of an engine and the gentle rocking motion had kept her in the surreal state between waking and sleep. Is that music? Maybe this is a dream….

When the noise and movement suddenly stop and a vehicle door slams, Marigold cracks her eyes open. Gray cloth seats stare back at her. Turning her head, Marigold finds she is laying in the back seat of a car—or truck, she isn’t sure. Her head pounds with the movement and she must close her eyes again.

Suddenly, the door by her feet opens. Blinding light pours into the cab and Marigold groans and throws her arm over her face. Hands grasp her ankles and pull hard. She shrieks as she is yanked from the warm interior of the vehicle and thrown to the ground.

Her bare hands plunge into icy snow to catch herself. Hastily, she pushes up to her knees and looks furiously around for the asshole responsible for the freezing snow now buried in her jacket sleeves. Her brows furrow in confusion when she takes in her surroundings.

Marigold finds herself in a forest, bare oak, ash, and birch trees dotting the snow-covered landscape. Fat snowflakes drift lazily down from a gray sky. Her breath curls white before her when she releases a tremulous exhale.

Her skin prickles, and not just from the cold. The forest is quiet, oppressively so; no bird song, no wind, no noise from a nearby highway. Her surroundings do nothing to jog her memory. What is she doing here?

The who, what, and why escape her, until she turns around and finds Graham leaning against a black pick-up, hands in his pockets. Graham, right. Last night, the bar, her friends…. Where are her friends?

She notices Graham has changed clothes. He’s now wearing camouflage from head to toe. Marigold is instantly on her feet.

“What’s going on?” she demands, unnerved. He watches her blankly, eyes cast in shadow under the brim of his hat. He doesn’t answer, instead strolling over to the bed of the truck. He unlatches the tail gate and lets it fall open with a noisy clank that makes Marigold jump. Graham seats himself on the open tail gate and fiddles with something inside the truck.

Tentatively, she follows, stepping carefully around to the back of the pick-up, only to recoil in shock as Graham slides a hunting rifle out of its case and lays it across his lap.

“What’s going on!” she shouts, eyes wide, heart hammering. Her voice is deafening in the near-silent forest. Graham glances up at her, adjusting his hat and leaning back casually against the bed of the pick-up. His expression is still unreadable.

“Run along now, Goldie,” he says softly, turning his attention back to the .30-06 in his lap.

Marigold gives him a blank stare. Run along? Where is she supposed to go? Why is he acting so weird? And why the fuck does he have a gun?

“Graham, you’re really freaking me out. What are we doing here?” Her voice shakes as she speaks. She wraps her arms around herself to keep her hands from trembling. Graham ignores her. He loads a shell into the rifle, the loud click making Marigold flinch. Her already racing heart begins to beat wildly against her ribs.

Graham’s eyes meet hers again and he looks at her expectantly. When she doesn’t move, he looks down to his watch, tilting it against the glare from the snow.

“I’ll give you a three-minute head start, sweetheart. You better get going.”

“A head start, for what?” she demands, fear ebbing slightly to make way for anger. Graham sighs and reaches behind him, producing an enormous hunting knife. He cocks his arm back and chucks the blade. Marigold leaps backwards as sharp steel embeds itself in the snow where her foot had been a moment earlier.

“Run,” Graham says firmly, sliding off the tail gate and slinging the rifle over his shoulder.

“Jesus, fuck!” Marigold turns on her heel and flees, sprinting as fast as she can through the snow. Her mind races. The clank of the bullet sliding into the chamber replays vividly in her mind and one, morbid thought makes itself know above all the rest:

Is that bullet…for her?

Marigold runs until her lungs burn, ducking behind trees and leaping over fallen branches. She has to reach a road or a house or something eventually, right? Keep going, have to keep going….

After several minutes of hard sprinting, she slows to a jog, glancing behind her. Her breath comes in furious pants, white mist pouring from her mouth with each exhale. She can’t see the black pickup anymore, or Graham, but he will be hard to spot in all the camo. She looks down despairingly at her own clothes. Her black leather jacket and dark hair will stick out like a sore thumb against all the gray and white around her, but she can’t take off her jacket, not in this weather.

She glances up at the sky. The sun is hidden behind silver clouds. She has no way of telling what time it is or in what direction she’s heading, but what does it matter? She doesn’t even know where she is anyway.

Marigold suddenly skids to a halt. Her cell phone! Why hadn’t she thought of that before? Frantically, she searches her pockets, but comes up empty. Of course, he took her phone. It was ridiculous to think otherwise. She swears under her breath.

She chews on her lip and rubs her hands on her jeans to warm them. Another thought sneaks to the forefront of her mind.

Maybe she shouldn’t run. Maybe she should wait for Graham to find her and let him do whatever he has planned. Then he’ll see this is all pointless—

Marigold feels the shot before she hears it. The ear-splitting crack follows the white-hot path of the bullet as it tears through the back of her shoulder, exploding out the other side and splattering the snow with scarlet gore.

The force of the shot sends her crashing to the ground. A scream of agony tears from her throat as she rolls on her side and grasps her mutilated shoulder. Marigold sobs, pushing herself to her knees and curling in on herself. Nauseating, miserable pain wracks her entire right side and she grits her teeth, forcing herself to stay conscious.

Hesitantly, she looks down at the bloody mess that is her shoulder. Shallow pants pass her lip as she shakes from head to toe. Marigold waits anxiously, watching her wound, praying the process will being quickly, before Graham can get another shot off.

Slowly, her flesh begins to move. The edges of the wound gradually to knit together, muscle, bone, and sinew realigning themselves in their proper place. Her skin works itself closed. Soon, nothing remains of the bullet hole but the blood smeared across her skin.

That psychopath shot her! He really did it! He is actually hunting her! The shock and rage send her reeling. Marigold exhales sharply and grasps her healed shoulder, bringing herself back to her senses. The pain is gone, but the memory persists. She doesn’t want to experience that again.

Shakily, she gets to her feet and stumbles into a tree, leaning against the bark for support. She raises a bloody, trembling hand, curling it into a fist. She slowly extends her middle finger, flipping Graham the bird and glaring in the direction from which the shot originated.

Quickly, she ducks behind the tree. Half a second later comes the deafening crack, the bullet shattering the bark of the tree right where her head was a moment earlier. Time to run again, quickly, before he can reload.

Sprinting is much harder the second time. Marigold’s quivering legs struggle to keep up the pace. Her gait is awkward as she continues to clutch her shoulder. Graham must not know she is no longer injured, not yet.

She takes more care to weave between trees and make herself a more difficult target. Marigold does her best to keep breathing, keep her legs pumping, but all too soon, she begins to slow. The one downside to her regenerative ability is the energy it takes to heal.

Fatigued, chest heaving, Marigold must stop her frenzied retreat and lean against a scraggly oak. What now? She isn’t sure how much longer she can run. Maybe she can double back, sneak around to the truck…. But then what?

Pushing away from the tree, she takes one step, two, three, still not sure of her plan, but the urge to run is too insistent to ignore. She trudges forward, feet numb from the cold, shoulders slumped, shivering from head to toe.

One hundred yards away, Graham exhales slowly. Marigold staggers into the cross hairs. Finger steady, he pulls the trigger.

A third crack rips through the silence of the forest. The bullet plows through Marigold’s right leg, breaking bone and shredding flesh as it bursts out the front of her thigh before coming to a halt in the trunk of an ash tree.

Her leg is knocked out from under her and Marigold crashes to the ground a second time in a flurry of snow and blood spatter. Her anguished scream disturbs the hush around her.

“FUCK!” she wails, jaw clenched, hands shaking uncontrollably. She grips her thigh, just above the wound as blood stains the snow around her in a near perfect circle. Her surroundings darken.

Marigold comes to a few seconds later to find her wound healing, flesh and bone repairing themselves until all that’s left is scarlet painted skin. Panting, she lets herself fall onto her back. The putrid ache of the wound is still fresh in her mind. She can still feel the sensation of the bullet rending her thigh.

She can’t run, not anymore. She doesn’t possess the strength There’s probably no chance of finding her way out of this god forsaken forest anyway. She’ll have to wait for Graham. What will he do when he finds her uninjured?

She doesn’t have long to wait. All too soon, Marigold hears the unhurried crunch of boots on snow. He probably thinks she’s dead.

With gritted teeth, she slowly pushes herself to a sitting position. Graham spits into the snow when he meets her furious gaze. Leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world, he strolls toward her, stopping a few feet away to lean against an old birch.

“You’re one tough cookie, Goldie,” he comments nonchalantly, unsheathing his hunting knife. His head jerks up in surprise when Marigold laughs sardonically.

“You redneck…piece of shit….” Using all her remaining strength, she stands. Graham’s expression remains blank, but his eyes narrow. Taking a handful of snow, she scrubs away the blood on her thigh, revealing smooth, unmarred flesh. She does the same to her shoulder.

“Surprise, asshole,” she grits out, sneering. Marigold watches him closely. His face remains impassive but she can see his eyes flicking in between her shoulder and leg. She can almost hear what he must be thinking, can see the gears fighting to turn.

Did I miss? No, there’s blood everywhere, I definitely hit her, but where are the wounds? I couldn’t have just grazed her, not with that much blood. How is she standing?

A beat passes between them. Neither looks away from the other. Graham taps his blade against the back of his hand. He’s thinking, deciding, but what? She almost wishes he would just do something. Her legs won’t hold her weight for much longer.

Suddenly, Graham lurches forward. Caught off guard, Marigold staggers back and falls on her rear. In one smooth motion, he pins her on the frozen ground and buries cold steel into her neck up to the hilt.

Shocked, eyes wide as saucers, Marigold chokes. Blood fountains up from her mouth when Graham rips the blade from her flesh. Arterial spray paints the front of them both and the surrounding snow.

Graham sits back on his heels and watches Marigold splutter and gurgle, expression unreadable. She grips her throat, fingers searching for the wound. Panic, panic. She can’t breathe, hurry, hurry. When she feels the flesh knit together, she turns her head to the side and hacks, focusing on clearing her airway. The horrible, coppery taste in her mouth is overwhelming and she must fight the urge to vomit.

Once she takes a few huge, gulps of freezing air, Marigold meets Graham’s incredulous gaze. His blood splattered, expressionless façade has finally cracked. Exhausted, eyes half lidded, minutes away from passing out again, the side of Marigold’s mouth quirks up in a smirk.

“What is this?” he asks quietly, wiping the blood from her neck to make sure he is seeing what he thinks he sees. His green eyes grow wider when he finds no wound. In response, Marigold spits blood in his face. The wet smack as it lands on his cheek makes him flinch.

“I’m unkillable, you fucking hick.”

“I don’t…. I don’t understand.” His voice is still soft but there is an edge to it; a hint of fear. It is more satisfying than Marigold thinks possible.

“You can’t kill me. Nobody can kill me. This whole thing you’ve got going here is pointless—

Graham doesn’t let her finish. He cuts her off with hands around her throat, squeezing until her mouth opens and closes in a fruitless attempt to inhale. Marigold kicks and bucks under him, adrenaline giving her strength she didn’t think she had. She reaches for his face, hoping to claw him or gouge out his eyes, but Graham merely tips his head back, avoiding her reaching fingers.

Darkness creeps in from the edges of her vision. Blood vessels break in her eyes. Her chest burns, desperate for air. Her limbs grow heavy. Slowly, her hands fall to the ground and her legs cease their flailing. Marigold’s body stills.

Graham keeps pressure on her throat for another minute, for good measure. His hands ache when he finally releases her. He stands, regarding the still body at his feet warily. He taps her leg with his boot. No response. She looks dead enough.

He turns away, pulling handkerchief from his pocket and wiping the blood from his face. What in God’s name was that? He still doesn’t believe what he saw.

He shakes his head. Think about it later. Go get the truck, bring it as close as he can so he doesn’t have to haul her far. The ground is too frozen to bury her here, he’ll have to find somewhere else. He begins to walk away.

A deep gasp behind him stops him dead in his tracks.

Rasping coughs, more gasping, and then, “Is that the best you can do?”

#slasher oc #my oc #graham cracker #marigold #my writing #horror writing #slasher fandom #violence #blood #gore

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

The Radio Station - Chapter Three - Stay Another Hour or Two

A/N - Sorry this one’s a smidge late, guys. Been laid up a bit these last 48 hours.

19th of September, 2013

Unbeknownst to her, Matty had been just as excited about a second interview as she was. After the praise she had given both him and his music the first time, he had found himself a bit smitten. Waiting for the next time he was in London to hope that the station reached out again had been mildly nerve-wracking, but his patience had been worth it. It gave him the chance that he wanted. He had given her his number in the hopes that maybe she'd make a move. If she came to him first, that saved him a lot of trouble and allowed him to side-step any awkward tension if it turned out she wasn't into him. She hadn’t managed to get out to Reading around her other work obligations, but she’d let him know that she tried. He had hoped this would be the start of more frequent communication. But, they hadn't really had much of a chance to act on anything in that regard. Because as soon as the full-length album was out, the station wanted Matty back on the show.

“It feels like it was only yesterday that I was here.” Matty laughed from the seat across from her as she fiddled with a few things on her side of the desk.

“It’s only been a month, I think?” She mumbled, clearly focused on something.

“About that, if I recall.” He nodded.

“No George this time?” She asked absentmindedly.

“I'd rather have you all to myself.” She hummed a noise in response that made it hard for him to work out if his flirting had landed or not. But he did think that maybe she was trying to avoid looking directly at him. And... maybe blushing? “Been up to much in the last month?” He segued.

“Not particularly.” She said with a shrug. “You? Touring?” She asked back, but he skipped right over that.

“Haven't been painting the town red? Going on dates? Suddenly acquired a boyfriend?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible, suddenly busying himself with his phone.

She let out an abrupt laugh as she finally looked over at him, “No, Matty.” He just nodded thoughtfully. “Come on, you dork. Let's do this.” She said, looking fairly amused by his antics as she pulled her headset back on.

“And we're back, with a voice a few of you might find familiar as he was on the show only a month ago.” She gestured to him to do a little introduction.

“Hi, it's Matthew Healy from The 1975.” He spoke in a calculated voice into his mic.

“Back again so soon?”

“That's what I get for complaining it was too long last time.” He said with a light laugh.

“But you've done a lot in a month! Your full length, self-titled album is out now, you played Reading and Leeds, and you're even playing at the O2 Sheperd's Bush Empire tomorrow.” She listed off.

“Yeah! We never stop, really.” He chuckled as he shook his head a bit. “The acceleration over the last six months has been crazy fast. But we’ve been a band for such a long time so it feels justified.”

“Your enthusiasm and motivation is truly next level.”

“Gotta keep the hype going, you know?”

“Has it left you guys feeling a bit worn out?” She questioned. “That sort of non-stop lifestyle would've burnt many people out by now.”

“Ah, no way! We’ve had five years of doing nothing. This is fun.” He grinned broadly. “I’ve got a break of about a week and a half over Christmas, but I’ve gotta move into a new flat. I’ve got loads of stuff to move. I had to buy luggage while on tour. I have so much fan stuff now – letters, drawings, puzzles of my face.” She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of that and how surreal it must be.

“So, the album is out now. Have you been happy with how it was received?” She asked.

“Like everything that we do, it was totally down the middle. Half the critics absolutely loved it, half of them hated it. I think Vice called it the worst album of the year.” He said with a loud laugh. “It’s so funny how subjective music can be. But I don’t really care, you know. Our fans have embraced it massively.” He smiled.

“Well, it went to number one!” She reminded him.

“Yeah! That was pretty awesome. The fact that it went to number one is amazing.” He huffed with a look of giddy disbelief as he pulled a hand through his hair. “We didn’t really need any kind of statistical validation to be proud of that record, we were as proud of it as we could be as soon as we finished it. But it was nice to know that people still like good music.”

“I can imagine that would've been quite satisfying for you guys. It definitely deserved to reach number one.” She said with a nod.

“You've listened to it?” He asked in curiosity.

“Yeah, I’ve listened to it a bit.” She confirmed with a nod. “Actually, 'a bit' is probably an understatement.” She corrected.

“Oh really?” He blurted out eagerly before clearing his throat and trying to dial it back. “That’s cool.”

“Are you able to tell us a bit about the thought process behind the album? What ties it all together?” She questioned. He noticed she didn't have a notepad this time like she had previously.

“I don’t think there’s a concrete narrative that runs from the beginning to the end. It's not that sort of album. We knew we wanted to make a long album. Sixteen tracks, you know. But I suppose it’s all about me and my relationships, like the EPs…” He hummed for a moment as he tried to pull his thoughts together. “The album ended up being like a scrapbook of conversations and situations that kind of, when it was all put together, made this story of our youth? I think that’s what the album is.”

“Stylistically it’s all quite different, some of the songs sound like they could be from entirely different artists, let alone on the same album.” She noted.

“There’s a bit of a stylistic polarity, it’s quite genre-bending, the sounds.” He nodded in agreement. “But then again, we kind of wanted to make one of those records like the best pop records from the 80s. Like Michael Jackson on Bad. That was kind of the vibe we wanted to do. We didn’t pull any punches. We didn’t think we need to be a bit ‘cool’. We thought we’d just do exactly what we want.” He explained simply.

“That attitude seems to have resonated well with your fans.” She continued.

“Well, we wanted people to feel about our record the same way we felt about records that were really important to us. I want people to love the album, I want people to be able to not listen to the album because it reminds them of someone, I want it to bleed into humanity.” His passion for his music was unmistakable. She felt it was a shame that her interviews weren't filmed, so much of his personality and sheer enthusiasm came through in his expressions.

“It's interesting that you've been able to achieve that sort of appeal with something you've described as so personal and so heavily based around your own experiences.”

“The more specific you are, and the more honest you are about you, the more grandeur the idea becomes. Because if you give someone a really, really specific idea instead of something vague, they can read into it so much more.” He said thoughtfully. “It’s immediately captivating. Rather than a vague idealism that you may or may not have experienced. Whereas if you hear a really specific thing, hopefully across the album there will be something that someone could really,” He clicked his fingers with a look of sincerity, “immediately feel you’ve experienced.”

“You would've definitely gained some new fans now that the album is properly out. I believe I've even heard of a few big musicians singing your praises.” There was always seemingly some artist or other causing a stir on Twitter by tagging The 1975 in their tweets. “Do you guys have any biases towards someone who's famous being a fan? Or do you see all fans as equal?”

“Oh, well, you know, all fans are equal. I mean it’s nice to be validated by those you respect and interesting to be validated by those that you don’t. But that is a nice thing about it – when your heroes become your peers. But…” Matty made a face like he was trying to pick his words carefully, “I don’t really care about the whole celebrity thing very much, it doesn’t really mean anything. My parents are famous. I grew up around it. I kind of understand what it means – or more importantly, what it doesn’t.”

“Do you find that sort of celebrity complex of what that attention means gets to you?” She asked.

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “It's weird reading so much about yourself. Am I actually this celebrity person I see on my phone or am I me? I don’t really know.”

“Leading on from that then, how are you finding being a role model to so many people now that your celebrity status has grown so much?”

He instantly grimaced. “I’m really uncomfortable with it. Part of me thinks, it’s better they look up to me than a lot of people I know. But I shouldn’t have that responsibility as a 24 year old guy… y’know?” He huffed. “It’s hard for me, because I don’t really hold dear a lot of the values that fame presents. But the world of fame, the world of celebrity, has picked me up from a life of obscurity and put me into this whirlwind of money and bollocks and girls… I think we kind of invest in our own relationships a lot.” He stopped himself for a minute as he took a drink from the mug of tea she'd given him. “I don’t know what to say to a lot of these kids. The whole thing of becoming a figure of sexual desire, that’s understandable. That comes with the territory, that comes with young girls, that comes with them growing up. But the idea of me becoming a figure of intellectual desire? Something people look up to as almost an orator or a speaker or somebody with opinions? That makes me feel uncomfortable.” He shook his head as he scratched at the back of his neck. “Because I’m not this honest person that’s been depicted in the media. I’m very, very defiant about being honest lyrically, but that doesn’t come from a place of genuine lack of care – I’m actually really neurotic and insecure. The only reason those lyrics are like that is because I wrote that album before anyone knew who we were. I didn’t have to think 'am I being too honest?' ”

She paused for a moment as his words sank in. It hadn't been her intention to get him onto such a heavy topic, but he certainly seemed to have no trouble dissecting his thoughts on the matter and she was certain her listeners would be enjoying the insight. “Let's shift onto a lighter topic.” She started, knocking him back to reality. “I've probably heard interviewers ask you about the origin of the band name... three dozen times by now since I asked in our first interview?” Matty chuckled at that, but urged her to continue. “Is it validating to know people are so interested?”

“Good question… I don’t know. I think because… I get a bit tired of it. “ He admitted truthfully. “I really, really appreciate it when someone looks at an interview from my perspective and how it might be for me, because I’m the one who does the majority of them. I don’t know why people are so interested in the name. But then I think, hold on a second, if I didn’t know where a bands name came from would I be genuinely interested? And maybe I would… I think people like to understand music. They like music to be something that’s really consumable and palatable and understandable. Whereas we’re the total antithesis of that, aren’t we?”

“I'm almost tired of hearing it come up in interviews.”

He laughed loudly, “Yeah, so am I.” He nodded. “So. Am. I.”

“That seems like a good point to cut away to a few tracks.” She said with a sigh as she pushed herself back into her chair. “Do you have any requests off the album, Matty?” She asked.

He thought about this for a moment, “What's your favourite off the album?” He asked with a smirk.

“At the moment? I've been listening to Girls a lot.” She answered as she began queuing it up.

“Then let's hear that.” He nodded decisively.

“You heard it, folks. This is Girls off The 1975's self-titled album.” She said into her microphone as she watched Matty take his headset off and sink back into his chair. “Sorry for getting you onto such an intense tangent there.”

“It's all right, I'd rather have an intellectual conversation than have to repeatedly explain the band name.” He said with a short laugh. “That's why you do good interviews - you ask proper questions.” He added as he finished the tea.

They chatted a bit about what they'd been listening to lately, what bands they thought were going to headline next year's festivals, before eventually the interview picked up again. “We're here with Matty of The 1975, and just before we heard their song Girls. Now, Matty,” She leaned forward, and for a moment the look in her eyes made him feel like he was in for another hectic question. “I heard a lot of controversy about the video clip for that song being in colour.”

He couldn't stop himself from chuckling. “Yeah... But it wasn't our first video in colour!” He said defensively. “When we put out the album version for Sex, that came from the idea that everything got so big so quickly, but we still wanted the album version out there before the album came out, you know, to impose our identity and say this is who we are. With that we did a new video for it and it was in colour, it was the first video in colour and everyone went mental. We were made aware that a lot of kids were saying stuff that we were ‘conforming to a major label’ you know, the whole cliché’d band getting too big.” He waved his hand dismissively. “And we got obsessed by that idea because it’s… so not true. It’s so ridiculous. And we wanted to make a video about that – about conforming to a major label. Because music videos are silly, we wanted to make a tongue in cheek video. We just wanted to make a pop video that was really aware it was a pop video. We knew it was obviously gonna split people down the middle but… whatever…” He finished with a shrug. “It was funny.”

“I agree, I thought it was pretty funny.” She replied with a smile. “What do you hope people are getting out of the album now that it's out there for them to listen to?”

“I can only hope that they react in the same way that I do. Because I can only make music for me. Therefore I can only expect people who are likeminded to embrace it in the same way that I do. When we finished Robbers, I cried my heart out. When we finished Settle Down, we went on a night out on the Friday, and it was like five in the morning and I made the engineer steal the keys to the studio and we went back and broke in to listen to the record all the way through. If a song doesn’t make me laugh through joy, or it doesn’t make me dance, or it doesn’t make me cry, or it doesn’t provoke me to be really introspective, then we just fuck it off. Just leave it.” He answered, before quickly trying to summarise himself. “I want our music to make people think about their own life more than our music.”

“That makes sense. The best music always reminds you of specific moments and people in your life.”

“Exactly.” He grinned.

“I heard rumblings that you're already working on the next album?” She asked, watching as he nodded a bit. “I suppose I shouldn't have expected any less given how little time off you allow yourself.”

He let out a laugh, “Yeah, you'd be right. Although, we've had this one ready to go for nearly a year and had some material leftover from it that didn't quite fit in, as well. The new album sounds mental already… it’s very... weird…” He frowned down at the desk as he played the tracks through in his head. “I can’t really tell you what it sounds like. I think it’ll probably be closer to the EPs. We’re so confused now about our lives, that I think this record will be a genuine representation of our confusion in different cultures and different cities and different mindsets.” He explained. “But who cares? We’re only making it because we wanna make it.”

“And from what you've said, song-writing is a big part of your expression.” She prompted.

“One hundred percent. I can’t have a record that is so self-deprecating and self-aware and then be interviewed and not have that translate in the way that I am. Because this band is a genuine extension of my identity, all of the music is me trying to figure myself out lyrically.”

“Has that process taught you much?” She questioned.

“Yeah. It's helped me get my head straight about a lot of stuff. But mainly I’ve really learned that I have a creative responsibility. I used to think I didn’t have any responsibilities when it came to my art, because it was mine. But I’ve realised that so many people genuinely invest in it. I do have a responsibility for it at least to be as good as whatever preceded it… hopefully better.”

“All right, we're nearly out of time.” She sighed, straightening up in her chair. He threw a disappointed look her way, forcing a smile out of her. “But before we call it, last time we spoke was right before Reading and Leeds. How was it?” She asked.

He let out a bewildered sound before speaking, “Reading and Leeds was like a culmination of everything that has happened. It was amazing.” He started with a faraway look in his eyes. “We went to that festival – it was the first festival we ever went to as a band. Just to watch. You don’t expect more people to come and see you over the course of one festival period, because it seems too fast. But we were definitely pulling much bigger crowds by the end of the Summer, it was mental.” He said as he shook his head in disbelief.

“I told you that you guys would be really hard to get a hold of in the future.” She reminded him. “We've had Matthew Healy of The 1975 on the show with us discussing their latest self-titled album. It's out now in stores. Go do yourselves a favour and give it a listen. Thanks, as always, for chatting, Matty.” She said with a sharp nod.

“Always a pleasure.” He said with a grin.

By now, she was expecting him to hang around as she talked through her outro and switched back to the music. He stood up and walked around from his side of the desk, leaning against the wall as she faced him.

“So, where are you off to now?” She asked as she pulled her headset off and placed it on the desk. “Gonna go fill up your free time with overworking yourself more?” She added with a playful smile.

He scoffed, “We don’t get free time. When we do have free time, it’s in London, where we don’t live, when we’re in a hotel, and you have one day off which you do your washing in.” He answered as he rolled his eyes. “But, I assume that you do live near London?”

“Around these parts, yes.” She said vaguely. “Why?”

“We're stuck up here for a couple of days, if you wanted to get a drink or anything.” He suggested with a casual shrug.

“I appreciate the offer, but stand by what I said before.” She started. “It's easier to keep work separate. I've seen it get messy for colleagues.” She elaborated.

He nodded in understanding. “All right, well...” He let out the breath he was holding. “You have my number.” She watched him walk out of the studio as she tried to get her heart rate back under control.

* * *

She probably should've known better than to go out that night knowing that Matty was around London. But her friends had invited her out for a drink, and it was Thursday, it was close enough to the end of the week. And most importantly she felt like she needed a drink after being in such close confinement with that man. Thankfully, her professionalism was easy enough to maintain at work (despite his best attempts at flirting). However, when she was faced with the dilemma of George and Matty walking into the bar they'd been in for the last couple of hours, after she'd already had a few drinks, the lines between work and social life were suddenly a lot less obvious. She shrank back down into her seat slightly, hoping that he wouldn't notice she was here and she wouldn't have to deal with the uncomfortable feeling in her chest. But it was too late. George noticed her and instantly pointed her out to his mate. Fuck sake, George. Matty flashed her a friendly wave, which she returned anxiously. At least he didn't walk over. He and George walked across to the other side of the bar and started playing pool.

She mentally checked out of her friend's conversation after that - finding it too hard to not focus on Matty when he was in the room. The magnetism he radiated was annoyingly undeniable. She nodded occasionally and made approving noises here and there when there was a pause in the conversation for a response. But eventually she was dragged back to reality and actually had to give a response when she heard one of her friends calling her name. She looked over to them with her eyebrows raised, asking them to repeat the question.

“I said,” They laughed before repeating themselves, “we’re going to grab some food down the road. Are you coming?”

“Uh…” She mumbled, suddenly meeting Matty's gaze across the room. “No. I’m not hungry.” She shook her head. “Might hang around here for a bit.”

“Suit yourself.”

Her friends grabbed their things, promptly leaving the bar and thus leaving her to her own devices. She briefly considered that staying here might be a bad idea, but that thought was quickly squashed by the smile Matty threw her way. “Fancy seeing you here.” He grinned as she walked over to where he and George were standing.

“Should've known you'd find me somehow or another.” She said in amusement as she watched George sink one of the smalls.

“Hey, don't blame me.” He held up his hands in defence. “This bar was his idea. Right, George?” He asked as he turned back to the table.

“He's right.” The drummer nodded.

“We just wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit.” He explained with a look of innocence. “You wanna get in on the next game?” He added, suddenly looking eager.

“Sure.” She shrugged as she pulled a barstool over and took a seat.

As she watched them play out their game, she noticed that George was a much better player than Matty was. “You don't seem to be very good at this.” She noted as Matty missed another shot.

“It's still our first game. I need to warm up.” He replied as he rolled his shoulders.

She hummed thoughtfully, “I dunno, George is kicking your arse.”

“George, tell her that I'm not that bad at pool.” He said with a frown.

He shook his head, “I’m not getting involved. This is between you two.”

“I'll show you.” He grumbled under his breath as he took a sip from his beer. “Next game. You and me.” He said with a nod.

“You're on.”

The game took a little longer to finish up than what she had initially expected as Matty tried to hone his skills. She ended up excusing herself to get another drink right before George sunk the last shot.

“Good game, Matt.” He said as he cracked his back. “I'm gonna head back to the hotel. You coming?” He asked as he nudged the singer in the ribs.

Matty eyed the girl standing at the bar. “Nah, I'm gonna stay for a bit.” He answered.

“All right. Don't kick on too late.” He said as he clapped a hand down on his friend's shoulder. “Remember, we've got a show tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. I won't.” He said as he brushed off George's hand. Matty racked up the balls and set up the table again as she came over with her drink.

“Where's George?” She asked, quickly looking around.

“Went back to the hotel.” He answered abruptly.

“Oh.” Was all she could muster in response. No longer having the buffer of someone else suddenly made this situation feel quite... different.

“I've got a wager for you to prove I'm not as bad at this as you think.” He said as he held out the pool cue to her. She raised an eyebrow in question. “If you can beat me in a game, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“And if I don’t beat you?” She questioned with a sceptical look.

“Then you’ll have to buy your own drink to have with me.” He shot back, holding her gaze. He offered out his hand and waited for her to shake on the bet. After a moment of weighing up her options, she shook his hand firmly. “You break.”

For a man who wanted to make a bet on his skills, they hadn't really seemed to have improved any since the last game. After about ten minutes of playing, he had only sunk one ball in comparison to her four. It seemed that he was practically handing out free shots.

“I feel like you’re losing on purpose.” She accused eventually.

“What gives you that impression?” He asked as he shot the cue ball directly in between every possible ball he could’ve hit.

“What were you even aiming for just then?” She huffed with a laugh.

“I was trying to do a bounce shot off the cushion into the five.” He lied as he took a drink. “Your shot.” He handed the cue back to her.

She looked back at the table, seeing that the five was nowhere near where he ended up. “Sure.”

“So...” He started, leaning back against the table. “I thought you said earlier that you like to 'keep work separate'?” He asked casually as he busied himself looking at his fingernails.

“What a good thing neither of us are working right now, then.” She muttered as she sank another ball.

“Hmm, seems that way.”

“And I didn't exactly intend to hang out with you this evening.” She added, taking her second shot and holding the cue out to him. “It's not my fault you invaded my Thursday night.”

“You say that like you're not having a good time.” He frowned as he took it back.

“I wouldn't be here if I wasn't having a good time.” She answered honestly. As soon as he heard that, he sank his final shot. He watched as the eight went straight into the corner pocket. “You… you just lost the game?” She asked in confusion.

“What a shame.” He sighed. “I guess I owe you a drink.” He said with a shrug as he brushed past her and walked to the bar. She should probably feel a bit more confronted about the fact that he'd just lost that game to spend time with her, but her brain was too clouded with the knowledge that he'd just lost that game to spend time with her.

They continued playing pool as Matty brought over the next round, and for some sudden reason, they seemed to be a lot more evenly matched. It was unquestionable how easily the conversation flowed between them, and it was also pretty easy to see the chemistry quickly forming.

“I'm not as good with girls as people think I am.” He debated as he took his shot, after hearing her prattle on about how much women fussed over him on the internet.

“You don't need to be good with girls at this point.” She said as she rolled her eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think you realise how many people want to date you, Matty.” She laughed. “I mean, you’ve got a queue longer than the one to get into Glastonbury.” He couldn't help but join in with her laughter at the reference.

“That doesn't mean anything if I'm not attracting the right people.” He pointed out.

“What sort of people are you aiming to attract?” She asked in an attempt at nonchalance, intentionally looking away from him to hide her nerves.

“Someone like minded. Other musicians, people in the industry,” He paused, waiting until he had her attention before he finished his sentence, “cute radio presenters. That sort of thing.”

As her brain ticked into overdrive at this, she heard the bartender call out for anyone wanting last drinks. It was getting late. “I really need to be getting back home.” She groaned.

“Ah, but the bar doesn't close for another hour!” Matty protested.

“I've got work tomorrow.” She said, shaking her head. “And you,” She punctuated her sentence by jabbing him in the shoulder. “have a show.” He gently took her hand in his, using it as an excuse to pull her closer to him.

“I've done worse than play a show while I'm tired.” He argued, trying to convince her to stay a little longer.

“Well, I have a level of professionalism to uphold.” She smiled back at him. “When are you back in London next?”

He thought about this for a moment, “January.”

“That's forever away.” She said with a frown.

“Good thing you've got my number then.” She nodded slightly, suddenly finding herself losing her voice when she noticed his expression shift. He leaned in closer, and before she'd really had time to properly process it or kiss him back, he'd already moved away. “Keep in touch, love.” He grinned.

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @dot-writes @tooshhhy @robinrunsfiction @approved-by-dentists

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lordoffiction · 4 years

Text

Thor’s Lightning: Chapter one.☁

here we go! a day late but it’s finally here.

please make sure you read the prologue before this!

enjoy! please leave feedback. ♡

WORD COUNT: 3,713.

WARNINGS: swearing, fighting, a little scene with Hvitty, Ivar calling you mean words.

gif isn’t mine. all credits to the owner.

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It had been a week since you arrived in Kattegat, it still felt surreal to you that you were here.

You weren't in a coma and you weren’t dead, you had just been thrown back three-hundred years before you were even born. You tried to relive that night over and over again, seeing the night sky, feeling the rain on your face and back. Seeing that lightning that made your breath get stuck in your throat, how it all went white. You were struck by the lightning, you were certain of it. You just didn’t know why you were sent here of all places. You had noticed the day after that you had a scar going down the middle of your breast bone, in the same pattern of lightning.

“Y/N,” Embla repeated, staring up at you from the other side of the hut.

In the week you had been here, you and Embla had gotten along like two peas in a pod. She reminded you of your late mother, she had that vibe about her that just made you feel warm and safe.

“Hm? Sorry, Embla, I was stuck in my thoughts.” You continued preparing for tonight's dinner, cutting up the vegetables. You had your chores to do here, it was the least you could do for Embla for letting you stay here for free.

“Still thinking about that night?” She asked carefully, knowing the frustration it brought you. You had told her about your life before this one, she was the only one to know about it as she told you to be wary of telling others and what they would do with the information. You had told her about the year you were from, about cars and tall buildings. All the things that aren't invented yet. Embla believed you right away, she knew you weren’t lying from the things you had with you when you first arrived, like your phone and notebook and pen, your earphones and money.

You nodded slowly, a deep frown pulling at your brows.

“It must have been Thor’s will. He must have great plans for you here, child.”

You learned about their Gods here, Embla had told you about them all one night when you couldn’t sleep, nightmares fuelled by the gruesome scene of your parents' death. She had told you that Thor had put that mark on your chest to show you were chosen by him. But chosen for what?

“Well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?” You smiled over to her, finishing the last of the vegetables. “Is there anything else you need me to do, Embla?”

“Actually, yes. I need you to go to the forest and pick some herbs for me. I only got enough for me before you arrived, I didn’t realise how fast they would go.”

“Of course!” You nodded, picking up the woven basket from the small table. “I should be back in a few hours.”

Walking out the hut door, you headed into the direction of the forest.

Embla had provided you with clothes more suited to this age, though you decided to keep your boots for that little bit of you in your new look. She would braid your hair for you, and make sure you were well fed and rested. You would be eternally grateful for her, for, without her, you would surely be dead.

Whilst you walked in the direction of green, you hummed one of your favourite songs, something you’d do more often than not since your phone broke. God, you missed music. It was like your therapist. And you missed all your books. And your friends.

You closed your eyes as you reached the middle of the green sea, the sound of birds chirping gave you a sense of reality and the breeze here was different from the one at home in Kattegat market.

Home.

You’ve already forgotten about your real home?

Shaking your head, you stepped forward again as you scanned the ground for herbs that Embla could use. What were you thinking? That place wasn’t your home. It was just a place of survival-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a large axe landing next to your head, embedding itself into the tree, inches away from your face. You stumbled backward, tripping up and landing onto your backside.

“Fucking hell!” You gasped, eyes wide as you stared at the axe.

“Are you alright?!” You heard someone call to you, running in your direction. “I didn't see you standing there and... Oh, it’s you.”

Your E/C orbs flickered up to the owner of the axe, seeing a familiar face.

“You.”

It was the man from the first day you arrived here, the one who was eating whilst his brother grilled you out. Embla had told you about the princes after the dramatic scene you caused by your mini-mental breakdown, about their father and mother. How they go on raids and how they all led an army. How they would kill you in a second if they wanted to and how they treated their women.

There were five brothers at one point but the youngest, Ivar, had killed him. It makes you think how on earth you didn’t get killed that day.

Björn was the eldest and then followed by Ubbe, Hvitserk and the lastly, Ivar the boneless.

Though the brother in front of you was Hvitserk. The ladies man.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, ripping his weapon from the bark of the tree, holding his free hand out for you to grab.

“Are you blind?!” You yelled, ignoring his hand and using the tree to bring yourself back onto your feet. “You could have killed me!”

His brows frowned together, staring at you as he took his hand back to his side.

“Well, if you had looked where you were going, you would have seen that there’s a massive target on the tree.” He shot back at you, making you turn and look that therefor, in fact, was a massive target on the tree. “Are you sure you aren't blind as my brother said?” Hvitserk’s lips turned up into a boyish grin.

Was he making fun of you right now?

“And that’s no way to talk to your prince.”

“You aren’t my prince,” you barked back at him, leaning down to pick up your basket you had dropped.

“Oh, I'm not?” He said innocently. “Then who is? Because I don't see anyone else around.”

“No one is my ‘prince’. What is this? The royal family of England?” You said the last part to yourself as you walked past him but Hvitserk heard you, grabbing onto the top of your arm quickly.

“What did you say?” He asked lowly, a threatening look glazing over his eyes. “You’re from England? Are you a Christian?”

His grip tightened at the last question, making your eyes glare daggers at him.

“No, I'm not a Christian. I don't believe there is a god.” Ripping your arm out of his grip, you huffed.

Hvitserk stood there stunned, how could you not believe in the gods? You weren’t from here, clearly, but where were you from? So many questions spun in his mind.

“What’s your name?” He asked you after a short period of not talking.

You stayed silent for a second, not sure if you should tell him or not. Embla had warned you about them, but the look in his eyes made you want to surrender under him. Wait, what?

“Y/N.” You answered before realising, still confused about what you just said about his eyes.

“That name is rare. I’ve never heard it before.” He hummed. Hvitserk had to admit, you were a beautiful woman. The most beautiful woman he had seen and he was surprised he hadn't noticed it the first time he saw you, though you were covered in dirt and blood. And those eyes, gods, those eyes. He was sure Freyja herself had gifted them to you. His eyes travelled across your body, spotting the gold necklace your mother had given you for your sixteenth birthday. It was a chain that was identical to hers, you never take it off. It was the only thing you had left of her.

“You wear gold, are you rich?” He questioned, causing you to scoff slightly.

“I wish.” You replied, your eyes locking with his. You couldn't put your finger on the exact colour they were. In some shades of light they looked green, in others they looked gold.

The two of you stayed silent for a little longer, your eyes drifted from his piercing ones onto the floor, a small tint of red freckled onto your cheeks. You had never been good around men, they made you nervous. It didn't help that you went to an only girls school whilst growing up.

“I think we started on the wrong foot,” Hvitserk said, stepping closer to you and held out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Hvitserk.”

You took his hand in yours, his one easily engulfing yours in size. “Nice to meet you, again, Hvitserk.”

“So what are you doing out here alone?” He questioned, throwing his axe up into the air and catching it again.

“I’m picking herbs for the woman I'm staying with, though I'm not doing very well.” You laughed slightly, looking into the bare basket. “You ask a lot of questions, don't you, Hvitserk?”

“I’m a curious man.” He grinned.

“What about you then? Why are you out here?” Your eyebrow quirked at him, leaning against the tree with your basket held in front of you.

“I come here to practice, all of my brothers do, though it’s just me today.” He hummed.

“Isn’t it hard to practice by yourself?” You tucked a fallen piece of hair behind your ear, looking at all the different weapons he had laid out. Swords, bow and arrows, axes, there were all different kinds of weapons here.

“Sometimes. It just doesn't give you the real thrill of fighting someone when you practice with someone else.”

“I’ll practice with you.” You offered. Why not? If you were going to spend the rest of your life here then surely you’ll need to know how to defend yourself and fight.

Your offer made Hvitserk burst out laughing, holding his side as he mocked you.

“What’s so funny?” You asked offensively, standing up a little straighter.

“You look like you wouldn't last two seconds, Y/N.” Hvitserk wiped his eyes from the tears of laughter.

“Then teach me and let me practice with you! A woman should be taught how to protect herself if she’s in danger.”

His eyes searched yours, seeing how serious you were about this. Letting out a sigh, he nodded his head.

“Fine,” He said, earning a smile out of you. “But only on the condition that you do as I say and you listen to me when I'm teaching you. This will take a lot out of you, fighting isn’t just physical, it’s mental too. You have to have the right mindset.”

You nodded eagerly at him.

“Place that basket down to the side.” He said, pointing to the ground with his axe as he walked over to the tree where all the weapons laid. “First, you’ll learn how to use a shield. It’s the heaviest to hold and you need to know how to block attacks.”

Hvitserk picked up a circled shape shield, walking back over to you after you placed your basket down, taking the shield off of him.

“Fuck.” You grunted, the thing nearly pulling you to the floor. It was fucking heavy.

“Now, I'm going to attack you and you need to use that shield to fight me off and protect yourself.” Hvitserk stepped closer to you, getting into his fighting stance, a smirk on his face. “Ready?”

Fuck no you weren't ready. You’ve never needed to do this before, you only needed pepper spray before coming here.

You nodded anyway, swallowing harshly. “Ready.”

He came at you so quickly, you barely stopped him in time, his axe colliding with the shield in your grip.

“Use one hand to hold it, imagine you're carrying something else in your right hand.” He yelled to you, still throwing blows at you.

One hand?! You can barely hold this fucking thing with two hands!

You let go of it with your right hand, stepping backward with each hit he threw down until his axe came through the wood of the shield, making you yelp slightly. Hvitserk moved quickly to get his sword, spinning around and hitting the shield again with it.

“Holy shit!” You cursed out, he was too fast for you, too skilled. You knew then that he could kill you in a blink of an eye and if this was real, you would have been dead minutes ago.

He kept going though, each hit was harder and stronger than the last.

“Push me back, Y/N! Fight me!”

You stepped forward again, trying to push back against him whilst he was also pushing onto you. You made the mistake of looking behind you and taking your eyes off of him, making sure you didn’t trip up on anything. Hvitserk saw that as an opening to get you, moving your shield away from you with his free arm, pushing you back up against the tree nearest to you, pressing the cold metal of his sword against your throat, using his body to trap you between the tree and himself, his face inches from yours.

Oh fuck.

You could feel his breath on your face, his lips inches away from yours as your eyes burned into his green ones. Your breath got caught in your throat, the thrill this gave you was something you’d never felt before. The excitement, the fighting, the blood pumping all over and now the fact that Hvitserk was inches from your lips. Your cheeks burned a bright crimson, your eyes tearing away from his.

He licked his lips before grinning, getting closer to your ear.

“You’re dead.” He whispered into your ear, sending a small shiver down your back as he stepped away from you.

“Again!”

Cocky bastard.

______________________________

You trained with Hvitserk for hours and hours until it got dark and you had to go home. He had walked you to your hut, and told you that he’d send one of his thralls to bring round the herbs you needed since you lost track of time on getting them.

Your body was sore and bruised from the training, groaning as you sat down at the small table.

“I never knew picking herbs would cause you so much pain,” Embla said, looking at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, no I... I ran into one of the princes, Hvitserk. He almost killed me with his axe.” You snorted, stirring the soup in your bowl with your spoon.

“Prince Hvitserk? You-”

A knock on the hut door made her stop talking, getting up and opening the door to see a woman holding a basket with different types of herbs tucked inside.

“Is this where Y/N is staying?” You heard her ask, standing up from where you were sitting and walking over to stand next to Embla.

“That’s me.” You said, smiling softly at her. This must be the thrall Hvitserk said he’d be sending by with the herbs. She looked like she was the same age as you, maybe a bit younger. Perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old?

“Prince Hvitserk brings you these herbs, he hopes its enough for you and he apologises for keeping you out so late today.” She mumbled, passing the basket to you. “Goodnight.”

The thrall walked back off into the direction of the Great Hall, leaving Embla staring at you as you placed the basket on the table.

You’d never get used to this world and the fact that a prince just sent a slave to give you a basket of plants.

“Are you going to tell me what happened today or shall I guess?” Embla said, sitting across from you at the table.

____________________________

The next day you were awake early, Hvitserk had told you to be at the same place for your training.

Of course, you were running late though. You were meant to be there at sunrise, so you could have more hours to practice.

You ran towards the forest, you didn’t have time to do your hair in multiple braids today, so Embla only did two small braids at the front, connecting them into one braid at the back of your head, the rest of your hair just let loose. You wore trousers today with a sleeveless wool top, a belt wrapping around your waist.

You wheezed slightly as you reached the clearing, slowing down to a jog as you arrived.

“God! I’m sorry, Hvitserk. I accidentally slept in and Embla didn't wake me up and now that I don't have an alarm, it's so much harder for me to wake up.” You placed your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath before looking up and seeing three pair of eyes staring back at you. “And there's other people here.” You mumbled.

“What is she doing here?” Ivar sneered, looking in your direction. “We’re meant to be training.”

“Y/N!” Hvitserk grinned, walking over to you and slinging an arm over your shoulders. “You’re late, but I’ll forgive you since you worked so hard yesterday.” He winked at you, causing you to blush slightly.

Fuck sake.

“Ubbe, Ivar, this is Y/N. She’ll be joining us for practice from now on.”

“A pleasure to meet you, I'm glad we’re meeting each other on better circumstances,” Ubbe said, going up to you and shaking your hand, his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. He was the one who stopped Ivar from backhanding you in the market.

“The pleasure’s mine, Prince Ubbe.”

“Just Ubbe will do since you’ll be training with us now.”

What’s with these brothers? Why are they so hot? Their parents must’ve looked like gods.

Your eyes trailed over to were Ivar sat on the stump of a tree, his crutched next to him. He had a sour look on his face, staring off in the other direction. Did he think that if he can't see you, he can pretend you’re not there?

You walked over to him whilst Hvitserk and Ubbe spoke.

“Prince Ivar,” You said with a soft sigh. “I know we didn't meet on a good note but-”

“I don’t care.” Ivar interrupted you. “I don’t care if you’re the new whore my brother fucks and you want some kind of approval from me and Ubbe. Stay out my way.”

Your mouth was left agape. What? WHAT? Did he just call a whore?

“How dare you.” You threatened, your fist tightening at your side. “How dare you talk to me like that, you don't even know who I am and already you assume I'm your brothers' whore? I tried to be nice to you, to make a new start because I'm going to be here every day and I don't want any bad blood. But I will not let a fucking man talk to me like that! I didn't allow it back home and I won't fucking allow it here!” You shouted at him, your face red and chest heaving. The temptation to smack that look off his face was overpowering, but you dug your nails into the palm of your hand to stop yourself.

If looks could kill, Ivar’s glare would kill you once now and then once more in your next life. He stood up, using his crutch to balance himself.

“Enough,” Hvitserk said. “We’re here to train for future raids and battles. We don't need you two bickering the whole time.”

____________________________

“So,” Hvitserk began, popping a piece of meat into his mouth. “What do you both think of Y/N?”

The three brothers had returned to the Great Hall, you had gone back to your hut for the night to bathe and rest. You had taken quite a beating today off of Ubbe, he was a bit more built than Hvitserk and he had knocked you on your ass more than once.

“She’s a nice girl. She’s got potential in her to be a good fighter if she keeps practicing the way she is.” Ubbe said, taking a sip of mead from his cup. “She’s got quite the tongue too. Why, Hvitserk? Are you thinking about marrying her?” He smirked, teasing his younger brother.

Ivar scoffed into his cup.

“We have to train with her and now you want to talk about her? What? Are you obsessing over your new toy?” Ivar said, causing Hvitserk to roll his eyes.

“You’re just angry that she hurt your pride at the market.”

“No, I just don’t trust her.” Ivar shrugged. “She talks differently and she acts like she's never seen a weapon before. And didn’t you see her shoes? She’s clearly not from here. She could be a spy.”

“How could she possibly be a spy, Ivar?” Hvitserk questioned him, swallowing the food he had in his mouth.

“Look how she was when we first met her, she wore strange things and we’ve never seen her before now. No one knows who she is. And what the fuck is an ‘alarm’?”

“That’s true. She did tell me she didn't believe in the gods, which shocked me.” Hvitserk said, bringing his cup up to his lips. “But I don’t think it’s possible she's a spy. She’s too clumsy and too inexperienced with a weapon.”

“We can’t trust her until we know more about her, Ivar’s right.” Ubbe chirped in. “But Hvitserk is right too, she can't be a spy.”

Ivar growled slightly, he didn't know what it was about you that made him constantly think about you. You consumed his every thought, at night he would think about that look in your eyes when you bumped into him, how you stared at him with fire in your eyes as you stood dup to him. No one stood up to him apart from family.

No matter what, Ivar thought. I will find out who you really are, Y/N.

____________________________________________

tags: @thespottedcreature @youbloodymadgenius @tragicmisfits @greeneyedthief

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skinks · 4 years

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hi!!! what are your favourite movies? like actually good ones but also any trashy comfort movies? is IT (2017) one of them?

Hello!! IT (2017) IS ABSOLUTELY ONE OF THEM oh man, thank you for this, I love talking about movies!!!! This is possibly the most difficult question you could have asked me. Apologies for how absolutely off the rails this got, I just... love movies so much lmao

I’ve said this before, but opening night of IT ch1 was the best cinema experience I’ve ever had, I’m so glad I got to see it with a fully packed audience who were all laughing and screaming together the whole way through. I’m a huge fan of... everything ch1 was doing, the 80s nostalgia, the summer-coming-of-age themes, the solid ghost train funhouse JOY of the Pennywise performance and scares, the washed-out cinematography, the tiny background details to make everything that much more eerie, the kids’ ACTING?!

Like, a lot of the time I find child actors can be really awkward and stilted to watch, but I remember leaving the cinema really impressed by JDG and Sophia Lillis in particular. I liked that they were all allowed to be little shitheads with potty mouths, it felt like a callback to 80s movies like The Lost Boys or Stand By Me. The whole thing worked to make me really care about what happened to the kids (even if I do still have issues with how they handled Mike. I understand even ch1 had limitations with juggling so many characters, but still). I saw it another 2 times in the cinema and have rewatched it at least, I dunno, 7-10 more times since then?

Add to all of that the retroactive CANON R+E baby pining subplot? I just love it, as if that wasn’t obvious by now given my Whole Blog. It’s a really special movie to me!

Anyway!! Ok, the main handful of movies I rewatch all the fucking time are:

Back to the Future, The Lost Boys, Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jaws, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Breakfast Club, Ocean’s 11, POTC 1, The Dark Knight, Inception, Die Hard, LOTR trilogy, Snatch, The Nice Guys, Logan Lucky, Mad Max Fury Road, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, Billy Elliot, Dirty Dancing, Tomb Raider (2018)...

Those are the easily consumable ones that I’ve seen so many times I don’t really have to concentrate or think about them, but I really love them and unfortunately often KEEP rewatching them instead of new stuff. It would take too long to go into why I love all these movies so much because I could write the same amount as I already did for ITCH1, and everyone already knows why those movies are good, so, lol.

I think I’m gonna have to subdivide and categorise this whole post because there are too many separate criteria for... goOD MOVIES, AUUHH 😩

Okay so first off, HORROR MOVIES? I’m especially in love with Re-Animator (1985) and its sequel Bride of Re-Animator, they’re such good examples of camp and batshit 80s practical effects, and also EXTREMELY funny. I’m actually just gonna post my list of my fave horror movies that I do actually keep on my phone at all times lmao. These are in no particular order:

Wholeheartedly recommend every one of these. I’ve never been so scared in my life as I was watching Hereditary in the cinema, hoo boy. Mother! by Aronofsky is one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had (and I actually saw it on the same day I saw IT ch1 for the first time!! That was a fun day)

Psycho (1960) and The Fly from 1986 should also be on there but I couldn’t fit them in the screenshot.

I’m a HUGE fan of a ton of martial arts movies too, like Kung Fu Hustle, Shaolin Soccer, Ip Man, The Raid movies, John Wick 3 is my fave of the trilogy, Drive from 1997 with Mark Dacascos is incredible, SPL 2, Ong-Bak, Operation Condor, Project A, Iron Monkey, and Zatoichi (2003) are some favourites.

My favourite Tarantino is Reservoir Dogs, fave Coen brothers are Raising Arizona, The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and O Brother Where Art Thou. Love some old-timey colour correction and weird offbeat dialogue. I also love Goodfellas!!! And Donnie Brasco! And The Firm, I’m so easy for any good crime/law/gangster/heist procedural like that, especially if they’re from the 80s or 90s in a super dated way.

Fave Disney movie is Tarzan, favourite Ghibli movies are Spirited Away and Lupin III. I remember watching Spirited Away during a thunderstorm one time and it being.... god! Transcendent! Favourite Pixar movie is The Incredibles (the first one. ALSO the documentary “The Pixar Story” is great and well worth a watch, it’s very comforting for some reason) and my favourite Dreamworks movies are HTTYD1 and Spirit: Stallion of the Cimmaron.

I tend to watch more anime movies than tv shows, so stuff like Akira, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Summer Wars, Journey to Agartha, and my ultimate fave anime is Sword of the Stranger (2008). The climactic fight in that movie is fucking stunning and should be counted in “bests fights” lists right alongside anything live action

Also if we’re talking animated movies another hearty favourite is Rango, and a Belgian stop-motion (which at one time I considered my favourite movie ever) called Panique Au Village (2009) which is one of the funniest movies ever made imo.

As for TRASHY movies, I’m not sure if that’s the right word for how I feel about these ones but.. dumb/silly/slightly guilty pleasure movies? Ones that I feel need some kind of justification lmfao

Troy - something u must know about me is that I’m a giant slut for the Assassin’s Creed franchise, so if a movie smashes historical and mythological nonsense together with fun costumes and sword fights, I’m gonna enjoy myself. Even if they should have made Achilles and Patroclus gay. Other movies in this vein are King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and Immortals (2011)

Gods of Egypt - I know all the reasons this movie is whitewashed bullshit. But it was already bullshit with giant Anubis mecha and giant snakes and bad acting and ridiculous CGI and frankly I had a blast at the cinema (my friend who I forced to come with me did not have a blast. Sorry H***)

Avatar - yes, the one with the big blue people. This movie gets a lot of flack nowadays but I really do enjoy it just for the spectacle. The full CGI world technology was so new at the time and I love to wallow in the visuals and daydream about riding a cool dragon around in the jungle

George of the Jungle - I’ll defend this movie to the death ok this movie shaped me as a person, it is fucking hilarious and Brendan Fraser is the himbo to end all himbos. It’s perfect. The song Dela is perfect. I still want to write a reddie AU about it. It’s one of the best movies ever made and I’m not being ironic

Set It Up - I KNOW this is a dumb Netflix original romcom but consider this; it was funny and the leads had great chemistry. I got butterflies. I once watched it and then literally immediately set it back to the start so I could watch it again

The Brady Bunch Movie - when people talk about great satires or parodies you will see them bring up the same movies over and over again, Blazing Saddles, This Is Spinal Tap etc, but they never talk about The Brady Bunch Movie from 1995 for some reason, which they should. It is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen and every time i watch it somehow it gets funnier

Some more general favourites that I do still love but don’t rewatch as often, and don’t wanna go into more detail about are:

Moon (2009), Crna Mačka Beli Mačor, The Sixth Sense, Parasite, The Handmaiden, Tremors, Wet Hot American Summer, Tucker and Dale vs Evil, What We Do In The Shadows, Hunt For the Wilderpeople, The Secret of My Success (I love kitschy 80s movies, is that obvious by now), The Green Mile, When Harry Met Sally, Rear Window, The Odd Couple, Breaking Away, Pan’s Labyrinth, To Kill A Mockingbird, The Eagle, Gladiator, The Artist, The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec, Call Me By Your Name, Master and Commander, Pacific Rim, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Legend (1985), Emma. (2020), Flash Gordon, Trolljegeren, Hross í Oss, Beverly Hills Cop, Coming to America, WarGames, District 9, Ajeossi (2010), Tracks (2013), Sightseers, Mud (2012), Pitch Black, Four Lions, Shaun of the Dead, Starship Troopers, The Truman Show, Withnail & I....... Jesus Christ ok I need to stop

NOTABLE EXTREME FAVOURITES that I didn’t include in the regular rewatch list because they’re too heavy/not as well known/require more attention.:

Thin Red Line (1998), Badlands (1973) both dir. Terrence Malick

Malick’s brand of dreamy impressionistic filmmaking is something I find really appealing, both of these movies are gorgeous and unusual and poignant and, in the case of Thin Red Line at least, have a lot of things to say about a lot of rough subjects. I don’t totally understand all those things sometimes, but a theme with a lot of my favourite movies is that I’ll be more likely to love something long-term if it raises unanswered questions, or is surreal/esoteric etc. Plus the cinematography is incredible, and I wish there was a way to get Jim Caviezel’s narration from The Thin Red Line as an audiobook because it’s very poetic and soothing.

Let the Bullets Fly (2010) dir. Jiang Wen

This movie is WILD, it’s so much fun. It’s sprawling and intricate and epic and smart and really fucking funny, it! Has! Everything! A gang of very tolerant outlaws!! Jiang Wen’s beautiful broad chest!!! Chow Yun Fat absolutely DECIMATING the scenery, and the two of them outsmarting each other in order to gain control of a small Chinese town!!! Plus it’s long, but it packs so much nonsense and intrigue that it goes by really fast. Wow what a flick

A Field in England (2013) dir. Ben Wheatley

I know I included this in my horror list but aaaaahhh ahhhh Wheatley is one of my favourite directors (he also made Sightseers, and is directing the Tomb Raider sequel which makes me absolutely rabid.) This is a surreal black-and-white psychological horror black comedy set in the English Civil War about some deserters who may or may not meet the Devil in a field. People eat mushrooms. It’s bonkers. I love being blasted in the face with imagery that I don’t understand

Mandy (2018) dir. Panos Cosmatos

Speaking of being blasted in the face!!!!! This movie... I saw it in the cinema and I can’t even begin to explain the experience, but I’ll try. My favourite review site described it like this:

“...somewhere between a prog album cover come to life and a metal album cover come to life, and subscribes to both genre's artistic tendency towards maximalism: what it ends up being is basically naught else but two glorious hours of being pounded by bold colors...”

So, prog and metal are my two favourite genres of music. This movie opens with the quote “When I die, bury me deep, lay two speakers at my feet, put some headphones on my head and rock and roll me when I'm dead.” and then a King Crimson song, it is SURREAL to the nth degree, it’s violent and bizarre and Nic Cage forges a giant silver axe to destroy demonic bikers and there is a CHAINSAW DUEL. A galaxy swirls above a quarry. Multiple animated horror nightmare sequences. At one point a man says “you exude a cosmic darkness” and releases a live tiger. At another point Cage says, in a digitally deepened voice, “The psychotic drowns where the mystic swims. You’re drowning. I’m swimming.” and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for two years

Paper Moon (1973) dir. Peter Bogdanovich

Really fantastic movie set in the Great Depression (and also in black & white) about a conman and a little kid who may or may not be his daughter, running cons across the Midwest. It’s beautifully shot, so sharp and sweet and the progression of their dynamic is really well done because they’re played by an IRL father and daughter. Tatum O’Neal was NINE YEARS OLD and she’s so amazing in this movie she’s actually the youngest person to win a competitive category Oscar. I keep trying to get people to watch this fbdjfjdbf it’s wonderful

Alpha (2018) dir. Albert Hughes

THIS MOVIE IS A VICTIM OF BAD MARKETING ok, the trailers made it look like some twee crappy sentimental Boy And His Dog Adventure, plus it had voiceovers in American-accented english? That’s a total disservice to one of the coolest things about this film; the fact that they got a linguist to construct an entirely original Neolithic language that all the characters speak for the entire runtime. And yes, it is eventually a Boy And His Wolf adventure, but it’s COOL and fairly brutal, and it has some really incredible cinematography. The landscapes are so strange and barren and alien, you really get the sense that this is an ancient world we no longer have any connection to. And it’s also about like, the birth of dog & human companionship sooo it’s perfect.

Free Solo (2018) dir. Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, Jimmy Chin

The Free Climbing Documentary. I loved climbing as a kid, I love outdoor sports, and I love movies that elicit a physical reaction in me, whether that’s horny, scared, real laughter, overwhelming shivers, or in the case of Free Solo - HORRIBLE SWEATING TENSION. Like, I knew about Alex Honnold beforehand because of this adventure film festival I go to every year and I followed him on IG so obviously I knew he lived, but the actual climb itself was torture. My hands sweat every time I see it!! It’s incredible, such a cool look into generally what the human body can do, and more specifically, why Honnold’s psychology and life means he’s so well suited to free soloing. It’s such an exercise in getting to know an individual and get invested in them, before they attempt something very potentially fatal.

Brokeback Mountain (2005) dir. Ang Lee

I can’t even talk about this. When I was around 13 I snuck downstairs to watch this on TV at 11pm in secret, and my life was forever changed. I wouldn’t be who I am if I hadn’t seen Brokeback at the age I did. I seriously can’t talk about this or I’ll write an even longer essay than this already is

God’s Own Country (2017) dir. Francis Lee

The antidote to Brokeback Mountain, I’m so glad I managed to see this one in the cinema too. It makes me cry every time, as someone who’s spent years working on a cold British farm with sheep it was very realistic, which is expected since Lee grew up on a farm in Yorkshire. I love that this movie isn’t really about being closeted, but about being so emotionally repressed and self-loathing that the main character finds it so hard to accept love. Or that he deserves to be loved. The cinnamontographies.... lordt... but also the intimacy and sex scenes are fucking searing wow who hasn’t seen this movie by now. 10 stars. 20 stars!!!

Tomboy (2011) dir. Céline Sciamma

I saw this years ago but I’ve never forgotten it, it cut so deep. It’s from the director of Portrait of a Lady on Fire and it’s about a gnc kid struggling with gender and misogyny and homophobia in a really raw, scrappy way, it reminded me very much of my own... childhood... ahh the central performance is amazing for such a young age. I haven’t seen Portrait yet but I feel like if you went nuts for that, you should definitely check this out, it’s lovely.

Donnie Darko (2001) dir. Richard Kelly

EVERY TIME I WATCH THIS MOVIE I UNDERSTAND LESS AND LESS and that’s what I love so much about it. I love surreal movies, I love time-fuckery and stuff about altered perception etc etc and Donnie Darko scratches all my itches. I wish I could find a way to figure out an IT AU for it, because I know it would work! Somehow! Plus it’s got the subdued 80s nostalgia and I found it at an age when I was really starting to explore movies and music and the soundtrack FUCKS.

Offside (2006) dir. Jafar Panahi

I wish more people knew about this!!! It’s an Iranian film about a disparate group of women and girls who are football fans and want to watch Iran’s qualifying match for the World Cup, but women aren’t allowed into the stadium, so they all get thrown into the Stadium Jail together? They don’t know each other beforehand, but it’s about their changing relationships with each other and the guards and just, their defiance alongside hearing the match from the outside and WOW it’s so lively. Great dialogue and very funny, and such a different kind of story from anything you usually see from Hollywood.

The Fall (2006) dir. Tarsem Singh

This movie... I guess it’s the ideal. This is the platonic ideal of a film for me, it has fantasy, magical realism, glorious visuals, amazing score and costumes and production design and a really interesting, heartbreaking relationship at the core of it. I don’t know why so many of my favourite films feature incredibly raw performances by child actors but this is another one, Catinca Untaru barely knew any English and improvised so much because of that, and it’s fascinating to watch! Also the dynamic with Lee Pace is one of my favourites, where a kid forms a friendship with a guardian figure who isn’t their parent, but the guardian grows to really care for them by the end. It’s like Paper Moon in that sense. What is there to even say about this movie, it’s pure magic joy tempered and countered by genuine gutwrenching emotional conflict in the real world, it’s also ABOUT old moviemaking, in a way, and it’s stunning to look at!

Mad Max Fury Road (2015) dir. George Miller

I know I included this in my “most rewatched” section but it deserves its own thing. We all know why this movie is fucking incredible. I remember clutching my armrests in the cinema and feeling like my skeleton was being blasted back into the seat behind me and tbh that is the high I’m constantly chasing when I go to see any movie. What a fucking gift this film is

Théo et Hugo dans le Même Bateau (2016) dir. Olivier Ducastel, Jacques Martineau

I only found this movie last year and it became an instant favourite. Initially I was just curious because I’d never seen a movie with unsimulated sex before, but it’s so much more than the 18 minute gay sex club orgy it opens with. No, not more than, AS WELL AS. The orgy is important because this movie is so candid and frank about sex and HIV treatment in the modern day, it was eye-opening. Another thing that really got me is that I’d never seen a real-time film before. It’s literally an hour and a half in the lives of these two men, their intense connection and conversation and conflict in the middle of the night in Paris, with some really nice night photography and just!!! Wow!!! AMAZING CHEMISTRY between the actors. This is such a gem if you’re comfortable with explicit sexual content.

Ok. This is already over 3k but film is obviously one of my ridiculous passions and I can and do talk about it for hours. I’ve been reading magazines about it for years, listening to podcasts and reading review blogs and recently, watching video essays on YouTube because the whole process is so interesting to me and I want to learn more!!

Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of valuing form over narrative. The idea that story can often come second to the deeper physical experience and emotional reaction that’s created by using ALL the elements of filmmaking and not just The Story, y’know? Whether that’s editing, shot composition, colour, the sound mix, the actors, how it should all be used to heighten the emotional state the script wants you to feel. And so, I think for a few years now this approach has been influencing the types of films I really, really love.

I think I love surreality and mind-bending magical realism in films specifically because the filmmakers have to use all those different tools to convey things that can be way too metaphysical for just... a script? I’m always chasing that physical response; if a movie can make me stop thinking “I wonder what it was like to set up that shot” and instead overwhelm that suspension of disbelief, if I can be terrified or woozy or crying for whatever reason, that’s what I’m looking for. That’s why I watch so many fuckin movies, and why I’ll always remember nights like seeing IT (2017) for giving me another favourite.

Thank you again for this question, I didn’t mean to go so overboard. Also there’s no way to do a readmore on tumblr mobile so apologies to anyone’s dashboard 😬

#long post #films #this is like bill hader being asked to pick his fave comedies and he gives a 4 page list #he has such good taste though ahhahbfhfhfhh lemme talk with him nonstop about movies while i ride him. thank you

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