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the-xolotl · 20 days

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Songbird, Sing Me a Song

Alastor x singer!Reader

𝄞 A/N: i have this HC that Alastor has a special appreciation for singers (musicians in general) who are more classically inclined or those to perform music of his tastes especially if it reminds him of home

summery: In which Alastor owns your soul, just for the purpose of having live entertainment for himself.

✎ TAGS: sfw, no warnings, Alastor just wants to hear Reader sing, terms of endearment, no use of y/n, gn reader, no physical desc of reader, not proof read

“Come here, my pretty songbird,” Alastor’s lulling voice beckoned with his usual jovial tone, sounding like a lowly whisper. Your ears seem to almost perk up as he calls to you, pausing your current task in favor of answering to his command. Alastor has a habit of summoning you to his side at the drop of a hat, you were use to dropping whatever you’re doing in the moment to adhere to whatever he asked.

The call felt like a tug on your very soul, a gentle pull on the chain that tethered you to him. This very connection guiding you to where he is, like an automatic instinct of just knowing where he is. So your feet carried you to follow that direction, which you quickly realized is his radio tower. It’s going to be one of those evenings, the corners of your mouth curled upwards in a small smile.

Once in front of the door you knocked in a specific pattern letting him know it’s you entering, “Good evening, Sir, what can I do you for?” you asked with a polite smile.

The Radio Demon sat behind his desk elbows parked atop it resting his chin on the back of his hands, “Good evening, darling!” he greeted with glee, “Come in, come in. I find myself awfully bored doing this paperwork, I thought perhaps you’d be able to help me with that.”

You enter closing the door behind you, making your way in front of the console with a small giggle, “You’d like me to provide with a lil’ live performance, I take it?” you raise a playful eyebrow at him. This has become quite the habit since he summoned you to the hotel ever since his return.

You’ve been contracted to Alastor for a good few years, even before his impromptu sabbatical. In life, you had been a fairly known jazz and swing singer in some circles. Unfortunately you met an untimely demise due to a freak accident that cut your career short just as you were taking off, ending up in Hell, a little surprising to you.

Alastor had found you at the time you were struggling to adjust to your new hellish life. But everything comes at a price, he decided to take you in after you told him about your singing and musical abilities; your unconditional services for his protection. Simple.

It had been a little rough at first, selling your soul to one of the most dangerous overlords of hell, you later found out. He’s peculiar and extravagant but admittedly not awful. Just different. With time you learn to keep up, and he helped you gain some influence as a singer again by pulling strings and limbs where he needed.

Most recently you are the Hazbin Hotel’s front performer as per his request. As well as his private entertainer.

He flashed a bright smile, “Why you read my mind! Would my nightingale regale me with their beautiful voice for a while?” He regarded you with an extended palm, which you took with a spirited bow.

“How could I deny a personal request from my master? Specially with such flattery.” Sending a wink his way, you skip around the radio equipment over to pull the mic and stool he has for you just for these occasions.

You set your items, sitting a few feet in front of the console with in his line of view. Just how he liked it. “Any requests?” you ask with a smile.

“How about some originals? I’d be delighted to hear the music you wrote, or if you’ve written any recent pieces” His head tilted to the side, a little endearment slipping into his voice. It’s not often he does it, only in very private moments. He’d never say it, not even to you, but you are one of the pets he is most fond of.

Your eyes widen slightly feeling a little sheepish at the request, a light blush tinting your cheeks, “There’s a couple pieces actually,” you straighten your back and fold your hands over your lap preparing to start.

With a wave of his hand one of his shadows skidded about the floor, rising up to place one of his radios next to you.

“Lovely,” his radio filter crackling with the low notes of his voice, “Just adjust the dials and it will do the rest.”

Eying the item curiously you reach out to turn the little nubs. A small sparkle of green light flashed at your fingers. So quick you almost thought it hadn’t actually happened. Though, just as you adjust the frequency a familiar tune begins to play. Your tune.

Blinking a few times you readjust on your seat, things Alastor does shouldn’t surprise you anymore yet he manages to catch you every time. “This one is my favorite in particular,” you speak into the mic now, “Sound coming clear?”

“Crystal,” he says in his transatlantic accent as he leans forward on his desk.

You don’t miss a beat to come in hearing the into of your own song playing. Your melodic voice filling the room carried but the romantic jazz beat. It’s definitely a more modern sound of jazz but Alastor enjoys it nevertheless judging but the way his foot taps to the rhythm.

Gracefully, you croon every word into your mic hitting every note with expert ease. Not a single flat or too sharp note. Even as the tempo crescendos or decrescendos. Your delivery of the piece full of emotion, holding the mic delicately between your fingers. It’s mesmerizing even as you sit in place but your voice holds all the colors to paint the story of your song. Perfectly tuned voice with high and low notes.

As the song came to its end, Alastor applauded along to a clapping track sounding with a proud smile playing on his lips, “What a performance! Truly, one of the most unique voices I’ve ever heard,” he praises, “Well done, dear.”

You smile while bowing your head, “I’m glad you’ve found it enjoyable. I should add it to my set list for the next performance at the hotel.” You couldn’t help the rosie tint rising on your cheeks again. You had been quite proud of that one, so having Alastor appreciate it before anyone else has had the chance to hear it filled you with pride and joy. “You got to be the very first one to hear it.”

His smile grows playful, “Oh-ho! What an honor, dearest,” slightly bowing his head and bringing a hand over his heart to make it heartfelt. You chuckle at the gesture.

For the next couple hours the radio tower becomes immersed in the blues and swing that accompanied your finely tuned voice. The Overlord seemed delighted to have a personal concert while he worked. It reminded him about the little things he enjoyed while alive, your style being different but jazz will always take him back to good ol’ times in New Orleans.

His foot taps along to the rhythms, humming along to the words quietly harmonizing with you. His smile becoming more relaxed and work didn’t seem half bad anymore song after song. It relaxed him greatly to have your voice bouncing off the walls of the radio office, especially being the two of you. It’s like being in your own little bubble, he liked that.

Though, more than just for nostalgia he had other reasons to constantly call private audiences with you he would never tell you about. Even if he seems concentrated now, he occasionally stole glances at you, taking in the way your body swayed to the various beats.

By the end of the night, you had essentially performed a whole set. Some were your own songs, others classics and some of Alastor’s personal favorites. The mood is light even Alastor seems in a much better mood.

“Thank you very much, dearie, phenomenal show,” he praised as a wave of claps are heard throughout the room. You get up to give a deeper bow much like you often do for your public performances.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be here all week,” you joked, “I’m only a call away.”

Alastor chuckled standing up from his chair, finally, gathering all of his work, “You must be tired by now, how about we both retire, hm?” his hand cupping your lower back gently and guiding the both of you to the door. “Wouldn’t want to strain you, now would we,” he stated more than asked opening the for you.

Yawning you nodded, “It’s getting quite late. I think we both got carried away,” He agreed with a silent nod.

“I’ll take you to your quarters, it’ll be quicker,” hooking your arm under his, the shadows beneath his feet wiggle and curl around you, “Hold on tight, darling.”

You didn’t need to be told twice knowing exactly what he’s doing. You pressed further into his side tightening your grip on his arm. The darkness swallowed and you felt like the ground beneath you became quick sand sinking deeper and deeper into the void, it’s uncomfortable, a little claustrophobic. Fortunately it didn’t have to last very long, you could never get use to his teleportation method.

Delivering you right in front of your door, he lets you hold him until your legs are steady again. “Here we are!” he cheered, before letting you go he brings your hand delicately to his lips, “Good night, my songbird,” pressing a small kiss to your knuckles.

You smile up at him tiredly, “You as well, Sir.”

With that he’s disappearing off again, yet you never feel like he ever truly leaves. At least, figuratively. Somehow you always feel his presence lingering over you, in a good way.

—

࿐ dividers © cafekitsune ✧

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x y/n

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yandere-swallowtailcherry · 4 months

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☀️Yandere!Apollo with a Female!Gojo!Reader☀️

This is from a poll I made. This was the most voted on that poll (God's School Aphrodite!Reader and Mitsuri!Reader both tied for second, but I'll do those as well.)

The first part is told in the narrator's pov, then it's in your pov.

This won't follow the original plot, so in this, Geto is on Gojo!reader's side!

Reader is 28, which is Gojo's canon age in the series (This won't contain spoilers from the manga, so don't worry!)

Also, thank you @forbidden-sunlight for helping me think of a plot for this!! Appreciate it! 👍

Hades hasn't felt this stressed out over anything in his life.

Multiple reports stated that these creatures called Curses have been the source of his stress. Not only were they killing thousands of humans, but they were also destroying the bifrost, the gate that only the chief gods can access, himself included.

He's tried to take care of them himself, but he couldn't exactly get rid of them. So he resorted to letting sorcerers kill them since they were one of the only ones who can effectively take them on.

(Y/n) Gojo is one of the strongest sorcerers he has, so she was the one who was constantly working. She's one of the only sorcerers who can take down even the strongest curses with ease.

She refused to do so, unless he lets her three students go with her so they can grow. He was against it at first, seeing how they were teenagers, practically kids! But (Y/n) wouldn't have it any other way. Hades reluctantly let her three students go with her.

Yuuji Itadori, a 15 year old boy who was the host of the king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, another 15 year old boy who seemed to be Sukuna's interest and Nobara Kugisaki, a teenage girl.

During the three months of eliminating curses, her students have continued to grow stronger.

They were her precious students, and she won't allow anyone to separate them from her....

"How long until we find this curse?" Nobara complained, already feeling bored from the long walking. Megumi rolled his eyes and continued looking around. Yuuji didn't complain at all and was helping Megumi.

"Relax, we'll find that curse!" Yuuji said, smiling at Nobara.

"He's so handsome." A female said to herself, catching the three teenager's attention, as well as yours. The female revealed herself to be a nymph, but as soon as she was visible, the curse had appeared and brutally murdered the nymph. Megumi immediately summoned his wolves, the black and white ones ready to fight the curse.

A certain god with long, pink hair was nearby, wanting to take a break from the nymphs. Apollo had heard the commotion and went over to see what was going on. The god saw three teenage kids fighting a curse along with a grown woman with a blindfold over her eyes.

But this curse proved to be too much for the three teenagers and you had to finish it off, which you did with ease using black flash.

"I've never seen a human perform such a technique. It's.... Amazing."

Unbeknownst to the four of them, the same god had watched the whole fight, more focused on you. You're very beautiful, and he knew it.

A man your age with long black hair with parts of it tied up came over, asking you to go relax, even for just a bit. At first, you refused because you didn't want to be separated from your students, but they managed to convince you.

You lifted your blindfold up, revealing one of the most beautiful eyes Apollo has ever seen in his immortal life. Multiple sparkles of lights reflected brightly in your sky blue eyes, layered by white eyelashes.

"Her eyes.... They're like the blue skies themselves...." Apollo thought.

"Sure. I can also take a load off for a bit." You replied, putting the blindfold over your eyes. You urged them to go ahead, while you follow behind. When they were far enough, Apollo decided now was the time to get the woman's attention.

"Hey!"

You turned your head, seeing the pink haired God approach you with a smirk on his face. You now looked slightly disinterested, though it was hard to tell.

"I assume you're Apollo?~" You asked, folding your arms. Apollo felt his confidence grow from your acknowledgement of him.

"I am. But that's not why I'm here." Apollo replied, flipping some of his hair back.

"Make it quick then." You said.

"I've seen your beautiful techniques and-"

"Not interested. I've already did what I needed to do for now, and I'd like to relax." (Y/n) replied, turning back around and started walking away. Apollo was surprised at her answer, just watching her leave.

"What?- You-"

"Besides... You're too weak~" You finally spoke, looking back with a grin and looking forward. Apollo knows he should be angry at the audacity of this woman. But he couldn't. Instead...

He was more attracted to her.

And so began his little quest to win your heart. Ever since then, he's been watching your every step, figuring out your likes and dislikes and more effective ways to get closer to you.

Whenever he meets you in person, he later found out that you were oddly playful and nonchalant, despite your cruelty towards curses. Your interactions slowly grew, even if Apollo had to do it first. At first, you didn't want anything to do with Apollo, but he keeps coming to you, so you just let him do whatever.

But doing that only increased his love for you.

Apollo has always seen you with the man with long black hair, whose name is Geto Suguru. From your interactions with him, he has a strong connection with you, and it enrages him. He hates the way Suguru gets close to you. He didn't like the attention you give Geto. You always greeted with a playful smile, and he wishes he was the one you smile at.

He has to get rid of him, so you can only give him the attention you give Geto. Geto Suguru.... Has to go.

So that you'll have no choice but to love him and him only~

#yandere record of ragnarok #yandere record of ragnarok x reader #yandere apollo x reader #gojo!reader #finally i finished this!#hopefully it's good enough

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heliads · 11 months

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I would like to request a one-shot where the female reader is a paramedic and Jack from Now You See Me has a crush on her and keeps doing things that result in minor injuries in the hopes that she will be the one to patch him up

i will love now you see me (and dave franco) until the day that i die

masterlist

If you were going to thank the Four Horsemen for anything, you’d owe them a great deal just for getting you out of yet another boring workplace training. Other people across the world can love the magicians for the money they scatter across their performances, or the thrill of getting into one of their exclusive shows, or just to appreciate someone getting one up on the FBI. There are many reasons to be a fan of the Horsemen, and yours has to be the most mundane.

In your defense, you’ve been hideously overworked for what must be years at this point, and at least this is one afternoon you can relax. You knew what you were signing up for when you decided to become a paramedic, but that doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate a bit of down time when it comes to you.

The marvelous performances of the Four Horsemen don’t usually involve a whole lot of injury, but ever since one of the original shows ended with an FBI agent getting tackled by fifteen people under deep hypnosis, it was determined that having a few paramedics around couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Usually, the shows are in lavish places across the planet, but this time, they announced that they’d be putting on a display right in your city.

You were excited when you first heard the news, much like anyone else. Even if all tickets sold out within a few minutes, just the thought that the world famous magicians would be so close to you was thrilling. There could be magic right in front of your nose and you wouldn’t even know it unless they snapped their fingers. Maybe they’d cross your path without you realizing it. Maybe they’d even stay next door to your home.

Your schedule was filled during their performance, so you knew there wasn’t a chance that you’d actually get to see a second of their show. There will always be YouTube videos, someone uploading a grainy video from the nosebleeds of whatever venue hall the Horsemen have decided to occupy, but it wouldn’t be the same as being there in person.

You’d assumed you’d be distracting yourself from thoughts of whatever exquisite show was going on down the street with some lovely mandatory trainings. Unless your squad was called upon for an accident, you’d have to content yourself with lackluster meetings and the like.

That was the case until you got the call that you’d actually be at the event hall. In a professional capacity, of course, but still, it was closer than you thought possible. The city had decided that it would be a good thing to have a few medical professionals on hand just in case something happened. There had been a handful of faintings and a small stampede at the last show, so you can understand why you and a few of your coworkers were called out here.

Most of you will be staying outside near your ambulance, parked just out of view. One or two paramedics are stationed inside, but you’re all going within the venue now just to get a feel for how the place is set up. Odds are nothing major happens, but it’s still fun to peer around and imagine what might be going on later that day.

The show won’t start for another hour or so, but the Horsemen are still kind enough to greet you and point out the major entrances and exits. You aren’t allowed to look around too closely, of course; half the fun of the magic is that no one knows it, not even the medical staff, but you can guess at the areas they’re keeping from you and what that might entail.

In all honesty, you’re kind of distracted from peering too closely behind various curtains by one of the Horsemen. Although you’ve never been to one of their shows before, that didn’t stop you from picking out a favorite: Jack Wilder, the cutest, or so you tell your friends between bouts of laughter and over drinks.

And, by all twists of fate, he seems most interested in you. He stutters twice over his one-syllable first name, and tries both to shake your hand and hold it, too. He got distracted when you smiled at him, you think, but that didn’t stop the rest of the Horsemen from shooting each other knowing glances, especially when Jack insisted that you be one of the paramedics to stay inside the venue. Just in case, you know.

The rest of the Horsemen file away to their dressing rooms or wherever they go to practice their tricks one last time, but Jack sticks around a little longer. The other paramedic staying in the venue with you opts to scout out the surrounding hallways, but you take the seat Jack offers you and he sits down too, grinning like he’s the audience and you’re the main attraction.

“Don’t you have to go back with the rest and rehearse your show?” You ask, teasing him lightly.

Jack shakes his head a little too quickly. “No, no, I’m good. Always good. Besides, if I did that, how would I get to know you?”

You laugh. “I suppose that’s a good point. Do you flirt with all of the paramedics you meet at your shows or just me?”

“Only the prettiest ones,” Jack grins, “although you’ve blown any competition out of the water, I can assure you that.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up when he says it, and you look away quickly to regain your composure. “That’s nice of you to say.”

You can still see the ghost of Jack’s smile out of the corner of your eye, blinking in your mind like you’ve stared too long at the sun. “I only speak the truth, of course.”

He looks like he has plenty more to say, but Daniel Atlas appears at the corner of the stage, looking irritable and tapping the watch at his wrist. “We need you, Jack. Quit flirting and help us, will you?”

Jack groans. “Always such a control freak. I hate to leave you alone like this.”

You swat him lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll survive somehow. Go handle Daniel.”

Jack grins again, but he’s still looking disappointed. “Can I talk to you after the show, at least?”

You make a face. “I don’t know. We’ll probably handle any injuries, if there are any, then head back pretty quickly.”

Jack’s brow furrows, thinking something through. “Alright. Okay. That makes sense. I’ll be sorry to miss you, though.”

You smile up at him. “It was nice to meet you, Jack.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he says in a rush, standing up quickly when Daniel shouts for him again.

You let yourself sit there for a moment or two longer, giddy over the undivided attention of one of the prettier boys you’ve had the pleasure of meeting, then head back out of the performance hall to go find your other paramedic. They’re a friend of yours, have been for a while, and so they greet you with a raised eyebrow and a question about if you’ve managed to secure a second date with your little magician for later that night.

You roll your eyes, but inside your heart can’t help but do a slow loop in your chest. He’s certainly charming, the Horseman, you only hope that his affections were genuine and not him trying to set up a trick for later that evening.

You’re able to peek through a window to see most of the show, which is as stunning as all the critics claim. You head back to the ambulance once the performance, tending to a few minor injuries like people forgetting insulin or getting their hand stuck in a door on the way out. You’re assuming it’ll be another ordinary day until you look up and see Jack standing in front of you again.

He grimaces at you, embarrassed. “Managed to slice myself open a little during the show. Would you mind patching me up, Doc?”

You reach for some bandages behind you with a grin. “Too cocky with our tricks, were we?”

Jack nods, feigning sadness. “My pride may never recover. Can I get a kiss while you’re here? You know, to help with the healing process?”

You arch a brow. “I don’t think that kissing an open wound would be all that sanitary. I can’t recommend it.”

“What about here instead?” Jack asks, tapping his cheek.

You laugh at the hopeful expression on his face, then, in a rush of adrenaline you expect just as little as Jack, lean forward and do as told. The look in his eyes could trick any girl into falling for him, and if you hadn’t already had an inkling of feelings for him, perhaps you have a little more now than before.

He’s pulled away soon enough, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget that day. It’s certainly a memory you’ll treasure for a while. All’s well that ends well, though, and you’re in the ambulance driving back soon enough, staring out at the road zipping by you like you’ll be able to sight him again if you just look hard enough, just want him enough.

You don’t know how long the Horsemen will be staying in town, if they haven’t already left, yet one week later, the news starts blaring headlines about how the magicians’ next show will be here again. Here, in your city. In your reach. It seems impossible– they don’t repeat locations without a good reason, but yet so it is.

You insist a little quickly on being a part of the paramedic team to cover the new venue, even though the times don’t quite line up on your schedule. A few days’ time finds you waiting by the ambulance after the second show of the by now very famous Horsemen, looking around with too much foolish hope.

You’re about to give up on the idea that you’d ever see Jack again– who were you kidding, after all, thinking that he’d be interested in you more than a passing crush on a pretty face– and then there he is, heading quickly down the stairs, walking directly towards you.

He holds up his hand, and you can make out a small dash of blood before he’s excitedly telling you about how he managed to cut himself again, can you believe that, and how are you anyway? Jack didn’t see you in the venue, only two other paramedics, and he was starting to think that you weren’t coming until he looked out and saw you.

You listen to his delighted wave of words, then speak once you’re able to. “This is a pretty small wound, Wilder. I’m assuming you would be able to patch it up by yourself.”

Jack’s face falls. “Shoot, you’re right. Wait, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You laugh when he turns to run, grabbing his hand so he can’t leave. “Are you going to go back inside so you can make a worse wound? That’s absurd, you know that.”

Jack’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, caught in the act. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. No magician would ever fake an injury.”

“Not even to talk to a paramedic they like?” You ask, the picture of innocence.

Jack chuckles. “Well, maybe in those circumstances. I feel like it’s understandable, though. I don’t want to distract you from your work, you know, but I do want to see you. A lot, actually.”

You haven’t let go of his hand yet, you realize, but you find that you don’t really want to. “Alright,” you tell him, “How about something else? I’m free for dinner tomorrow night if that works with you.”

Jack’s eyes light up, fireworks in rowan wood. “That’s perfect, actually. I’d love that.”

Someone appears behind him– Henley, fresh from their show. “Are you two finally going out? Good, he insisted on switching the location of our second performance to be here again because he couldn’t ask the first time.”

Jack turns around, expression dawning with horror. “You said you weren’t going to do something like this. You said.”

Henley just grins. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m just glad you moved the second show,” you smile, “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to talk again.”

“We’re going to talk a lot,” Jack promises, “I just need Henley to apologize for interrupting.”

“Not a chance,” she says gleefully, much to Jack’s dismay.

They’ve been lingering for a while now, so you’re not surprised when Henley starts to head away again. Jack looks between her and you again, knowing that it’s time to go.

“Text me,” he pleads, “we’ll set this up, alright?”

You watch him go, and it takes a few minutes before you realize that you don’t have Jack’s number. When you reach in your pocket for your phone, though, you notice a playing card stuck to the back of the case. It’s the Queen of Hearts, and there’s a number scrawled hastily on the surface.

You laugh to yourself. Falling in love with a Horseman certainly won’t be boring, but who would want that? You have Jack. The best trick was winning him, and you’ve come up with the best hand. Nothing could make you happier.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: empty for now!

#jack wilder #jack wilder imagines #jack wilder x reader #jack wilder oneshot #now you see me #now you see me imagines #now you see me x reader #now you see me oneshot #now you see me jack #now you see me jack imagines #now you see me jack x reader #now you see me jack oneshot

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harleiquina · 1 year

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I was thinking about doing this post just for kicks and giggles (knowingly that no-one would read it) but after seeing some people coming after @neil-gaiman for making a difference between "proper Spanish" and "Argentinean Spanish" I find myself now doing it out of spite.

So if you are bored and want to read some half-assed explanation of our language (with some History mixed in) please stick around. This is a looooong one.

But first:

People of the world: the only "proper" language that exists lives only in books about itself (like the ones we, foreigners, use to learn said language). I'm pretty sure that not even spaniards living in Spain use "proper Spanish".

I was taught "proper English" in school (namely "British BBC English" so... not "Every day English") and now I have to use "American English" as an Interpreter because I almost cause brain damage to a poor nurse after I said "a glass of water" instead of "a cup of water" when reffering to what was a baby drinking during the day. Literally, I could feel the nurse on the phone going like...

But let's not get distracted and jump on the real subject of this post, shall we?

We are rebels!

One of the things that annoyed me was a "we don't dialect-shame here" like... WHAT? Since when pointing at a difference for what it is (a difference) is shaming anyone? Shaming implies making feel anyone bad for something or making fun of them for whatever reason. Saying that there are regional terms that differ from it's original source is doing neither of those unless is done in a condescending manner and this wasn't the case.

Maybe it's just because I'm too old, everyone knows that life ends at 25 and I'm just a few weeks away from turning 31... or maybe Gustavo Cerati was right when he wrote "Buenos Aires looks so susceptible" in his song "La ciudad de la furia" (The city of the fury) back then in The Ancient Times of 1980-something.

We don't need to be cautious or offended about everything, humans are complex creatures and if you think that reclaiming the words "argie" (British slur for us during the Malvinas -Fauklands- conflict) and "sudaca" (again, a slur from Spain and other european countries to all south-american people) is a power move to show that we are no longer offended by them... then make up your mind! Either you don't care what people says or you do 🤷🏻‍♀️

Believe it or not sweeties, we DEFINETLY DO NOT speak "Proper Spanish" and that is perfectly fine because we no longer belong to them and one of the ways we prove it every day is by using our own language. Our Argentinean Spanish is not only a part of our culture but a slap on the face of our "Mother" and so is every single version of Spanish that exists across the world. We are not letting them believe that they have the Last WordTM in how we should speak!

It is also a bold move coming from some people that I'm about 70% certain that uses the so-called "Inclusive Language"* even though it hasn't been approved by The Royal Spanish Academy which would imply that not only that you are not speaking "proper Spanish" either, but you also respect the Academy's position and craves for their approval. *I have my own beef against the "Inclusive Language" but it's not the subject of this post.

For those that do not know, The Royal Spanish Academy are the ones that dictate our grammar, orthography and which words we can use or not. Reason why so many spanish-speaking people hates them and decided to ignore them.

Languages change over time, especially in far away lands where it can mix with others to create a new one. (My grandmother came from then-Poland-now-Belarus with her family in 1939 with many more slavic inmigrants -Russians and Ukranians mostly- and all lived together in a town in Paraguay. When a family member came to visit they couldn't understand a single thing said because the language they were using wasn't 100% Russian or Polish or Ukranian... it was something new and, apparently, very hard to understand).

All Latinoamerica performed changes to the Spanish Language. The most obvious one is changing "vosotros" for "ustedes" (the formal and plural version of "you") because no-one felt like saying "vosotros jugareís" (you will play) when "ustedes jugarán" (ídem) rolls a lot easier on the tongue.

Argentinean Spanish 🧉

As I jokingly said on the responses, we argentineans speak "Castillan" Spanish, Lunfardo and in Simpsons' quotes (latinamerican spanish dubbed because everybody knows that *that* is the funniest version), but actually, there are many more sub-dialects in our everyday life.

Lunfardo

This dialect was born in the Buenos Aires' port and was widely spread thanks to the Tango culture. At the very beggining it was considerated a sign of danger and depravity since it was used mostly in low-life neighbourhoods and brothels, just like the Tango. Eventually it became a fundamental part of our speech and we carry it with us everywhere we go.

I'd say it is divided in 4 groups:

Borrowed words: Most of them are from Italian, sometimes with a little touch-up to make it look more 🌟ours🌟. Examples: Laburo (original: Lavoro. Work), Gamba (Leg), Birra (Beer). I do not know if it counts or doesn't, it is still a fun fact tho: we use "Pollera" for "Skirt" but in Spanish "Polla" is a way to say "Penis" (so it makes sense that a pollera is the piece of cloth that you'll use to cover it) for us it is quite an innocent word... but if you say it in Spain they will look at you as the most foul-mouthed creature on this Earth.

Remix: sometimes we change the order of syllables or letters in a word probably started as a way to hide some "embarrasing" or "shameful" words. Examples: Ñoba (Baño- Bathroom), Zolcillonca (Calzoncillo- Underwear), Chabomba (Bombacha- female panties... but beware! Bombacha is also the name of the traditional trouser used by gauchos. No I do not know why they are named the same). Still mixing up can be used for anything else like: Yeca (Calle. Street. With a Y replacing LL for pronunciation purposes), Bepis (Pibes, slang for Kids). Even verbs can suffer this, the one we use the most is Garpar (Pagar. To pay/ Pays off).

Changing meaning: It’s actually a phenomenon that happens in all languages (a word means one thing in a country and quite the opposite in the next one) but some examples in Argentina might be: Gato (Cat) we use it not just for the animal, but also for... let’s say “easy girls” and -before someone tries to rip off my throat- it is also used in men (it means when a guy thinks he’s better than anyone else even though he isnt’t). Chorro/a (Water stream, like the one from the faucet or a hose) it also means “thief”. Careta (full-face mask. It means someone that is fake, like wearing a mask). A very curious case is the word Batidor (hand mixer, like the one to beat eggs), it was used for "snitch" and later evolved into Ortiva that means, pretty much, "party pooper".

Made up words: maybe they aren't 100% made up but at least their origin isn't that clear. Like Engrupir (verb, means "to lie/fool/trick someone). Malevo (it's an attitude, the typical macho man from the tango world). Pituco (it actually comes from "Pitucón" that is the name of the patches used to cover the tear and wear on clothing -mostly knees and elbows-. But as an adjective it reffers to someone that takes lots of care about their appearance). Cheto (is the way we call posh people or snobs). Trucho (fake).

Criollo

This word was used to call the children of spanish families born in Argentina (in times of the Colony). The "lower" class of criollos, those that live in the rural areas are the very well known Gauchos (always seen as less than other citizens because many of them also had native american blood and they work on the fields so... for the well-mannered and european-centric Bonaerenses -residents of Buenos Aires' city- they were pretty much salvages). The Gauchos have a culture of their own mixing spanish and native tradition and this can be seen through their music (chamamé, gato, pericón, malambo, etc.), their cooking and, of course their language. For example:

Descuajeringar: I once saw a joke on Facebook saying that nobody in Latinoamerica has the joy we have thanks to this word. It could be an adjective or a verb and it's applied when something is completly busted, torn to pieces, broken BUT with a small possibility of beeing fixed. It can also be used when reffering to a human when having a really bad day and it shows or is laughing their ass off.

Sotreta: (For a human) lazy or coward. (In a horse) useless, old or misbehaved.

Changüí: a small chance (to get something done or winning anything)

Julepe: Beeing afraid.

Villero

Quick and poorly explained History lesson here.

During all this turbulent times, the education was eroded as well... because well taught kids will become smart adults that vote. And small things like being the Best Student of the Class is not something kids activately aim to, not to mention that since the Goverment gives away money to "help" those in need... the idea of studying a career or having a good job is absolutely pointless. In this year 2023 there are families that go for the 4th or 5th generation of I-never-had-a-job-in-my-life and they don't see it as something that should change. And this people vote to those that support their lifestyle: the peronistas.

The 1930s were called "The Infamous Decade" because even if our country had a blooming Economy (there are clippings of UK's newspapers saying that "Argentina needs to be stopped" because we were becoming too powerful) and Education (by this year illiteracy was eliminated) our Politics were... dubious. Fraud was an every-day thing and people really didn't get to vote for those they truly wanted. Because of this many Military Cups took place and in one of the final ones, the figure of General Juan Domingo Perón became relevant. He took care of the Social Development Ministry and this gave him the opportunitty of getting to know the huge breach between rich and poor and started to steal other's ideas to improve the working class' life. That's why he won when he run for President.

Even though I do not like Perón (neither Evita, you shouldn't be fooled by Webber's musical) I do admit that he did some good things for the country like building hospitals, schools, roads... but he also spent all the money Argentina had at the time (and possibly robbed some more. Evita´s haute couture outfits and biggest jewelry collection in Latinoamerica couldn't be bought off a President's income at the time). Our Economy started to collapse, many factories closed (would you believe that there was a time were we fabricated planes and trains?) taxes went higher and many ended up living in Villas Miserias (Misery Villas).

Time passed, Peron left after 2 terms, the opposition won (not for long, tho. In here the tradition of not letting non-peronistas goverments end their period began) there were terrorist attacks, another peronista wins and brings Perón back. By 1976, Perón died, his 3rd wife Isabel (who run for vice-president with him) is now President and is removed from Office by the bloodiest Military Coup we ever had (I really don't like when people is like "USA is guilty for everything that happened to us"... buuuuuutttt at this point in time there were many military coups all across Latinamerica and this was part of the Condor Plan... by the USA. Google it). During the Dictatorship many other factories closed, people's was living with rations -you could buy some products with a limit and sometimes on a special day of the week- so our Economy that was in pretty bad shape was getting even worse. 1983, Democracy returns, Peron's opposition wins again (didn't finished it's term) and then come one peronista goverment after another one, each one of them even worse than the last one. Our Economy is already knocking on Lucifer's boudoir by now since it's waaaaay underground.

You can imagine that after 40+ years of living in the worst conditions, with a miserable lifestyle that they embrace because no-one told them that they could live better or that they should aim higher, without education or any kind of positive stimulus... a new class was born and with it, a new language.

Most of the Villero Language is an expansion of Lunfardo (origins are quite similar) but it also includes lots of mispronunciations of words (out of sheer ignorance, not as a way to show irony or sarcasm as it could happen in our regular speech). Whenever you come to Argentina, you'll hear over and over again from us natives to stay away (or just run) whenever someone comes to you saying "Eeeh, ameo/amea" (Original: Amigo. Friend) because many robbers use this phrase as a way of fooling you into getting closer to steal either your cellphone or purse or whatever you have in your hand.

Be mindful, though, that BY NO MEANS I say that all villeros are thieves, but a big chunk of them are and is better to be safe than sorry. I am fully aware that some people are poor and have no other way of getting a house unless its in a villa, but they are always trying to improve their situation regardless of how hard their lifes are... is the other kind of villero, the one that spends most of their day sitting in their doorstep drinking beer, wine or fernet the one that you cannot trust.

Some examples of villero words could be:

Wachín: Original is Guacho, a Lunfardo word that means Guy. By saying "wachín" is not just a guy, but a little/slim one (sometimes a kid)

Yuta: Police

Escabio: Alcoholic drinks.

Alto/alta: Originally it means "High" (about height, not drugs) and it is still used as such but it is also a way to say "very" or "cool". Example: Altas llantas (high tires) means "cool snickers". Alta piña (high pinecone. We use Piña -pinecone- as a sinonym for Punch or Hit. So it would be a very hard punch).

But wait! There's more!

We also have some oddities in the way we speak that were born out of trying to find an easier way of saying some words.

Everybody knows that we (mostly in Buenos Aires and other metropolitan cities like Rosario and maybe Mendoza. I think Uruguay does it too) change the LL and Y sounds for SH. So we don't say Lluvia (Rain) like other countries that might pronunciate it as "ioovia" or "lioovia", we say "shoovia".

But there's another little thing that some of us do and I didn't noticed until my Russian teacher brought it up: the conjuction of SC in a word is pronunciated as the Spanish J (H in House, for the English speakers) so words like Mosca (Fly, the insect), Asco (Gross) and Pascuas (Easter) will be pronunciated: Mojca, Ajco, Pajcuas (Mohka, Ahko, Pahkooas).

Aside from our dialects (bear in mind that I'm from Buenos Aires, I know next to nothing from dialects in other provinces) we have more borrowed words from the black community as well (don't you dare to bring up the whole "Argentineans are racist because there is no black people in the National Team of any sports", because 1. You don't live here, so you don't know and 2. Skin colour isn't the most important thing to get anyone on a National Team)

Quilombo: Is a tricky word since we don't have a precise origin for it. When I was in school, we were told that it was the name given to brothels. But apparently is a word used to name the places were runaway slaves lived together and got raided by the slave-hunters from Brazil. Because of this possible scenario of chaos, today we use "quilombo" as a way to say "mess" and it can be chaged to "bolonqui" as well.

Macumba: This reffers to magic, usually with bad intent. Santeria and Umbanda religions are quite a thing here (tell me about it, I live half a block away from an Umbanda center) and some people do go to this places to "macumbear" (put a spell) on someone.

Yeah, I know... those are not good examples against the case of us not being racist.

The End

If you made it this far... wow... thank you!

Our language is complex and filled with influences of every single immigrant that came here since the land was found by the Conquistadores.

Trying to bring it down to categories was as hard as you can imagine, because many words began as one thing and evolved into another changing their classification in the meantime. And it goes without saying that I had a really hard time trying to indentify them as part of our speech and not something all latinos do. (For example: I would've never guessed that saying "hello" with a kiss on the cheek -even among men- was not a popular custom across Latinoamerica. It's just ours... go figure!).

There was also the little issue of you needing to have some kind of argentinean cultural baggage to understand half of the references I wanted to do... I am pretty sure I failed to do so... but in any case, you can always ask!

I am not a historian or linguist (altough I do like to know the origins of words) thats why I just wrote what I know. Nothing is a hard fact.

I hope you liked it and made you curious about my country... aside from the politicians and their hard-core fans... it's quite an interesting place to live.

#this took too much bloody time to write #half on my PC and half on my phone because I'm a masochist #no I was actually working while doing it #has this revived my wish to add English subtitles to classic argentinean movies? perhaps #maybe someday

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asherlockstudy · 3 years

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How to do perfect staging: a lesson from Italy

I mentioned at some point I might actually make a post drooling over Italy's Måneskin performance and staging. I was kinda bored to be honest and decided against it but then all those trashy rumours that try to bring the winners down seemed so disgraceful and embarrassing to me that I decided again to do it. Now, the truth is that their performance was a little better in the semi-final introduction act. Perhaps this was due to the anxiety of the Grand Final. This is why I am going to use photos and gifs from that act and perhaps this will show to some that the perfect package might need a little bit of everything, and not just slap your language on the audience's ears with the expectation that this alone is always enough. *Did I make this too personal?*

Anyway, I digress. And I don’t mean that the Grand Final performance wasn’t still the best of the night, I just mean it wasn’t at the same God Tier level as the semifinal one.

Here's why the Italians took advantage of the Dutch stage until its very last millimeter and way more cleverly than any other country.

This is the only act that starts from the back of the stage, where the singer Damiano David waits for us alone.

Even with the rest of the 25 competing countries, this intro makes you forget that you are watching a contest with 26 countries as guests. Unlike anyone else, Italy looks like the host, like this place belongs to them and the frontman waits for you to show you around and possibly drag you to the world of Måneskin. In fact, you almost forget it’s Eurovision - this now looks like a Måneskin concert or, even better, a more private space of theirs with an ominous industrial feel. One of the most impactful things now is the lighting. Take a look at it. Almost all contestants throw all the lights on themselves or on some important prop they have prepared. The Italians are the only ones who chose to just light the stage itself. The simple white lights on the black stage give the impression of depth and it is the only act which shows emphatically the size of the stage. Why this? Well, we already established that in the first seconds the viewers feel they are in a new space belonging exclusively to Måneskin - the lights make us feel that their area is vast and dark and we are about to be drawn to its depths.

Damiano indeed guides us to the front as he sings, where the rest of the band are on the top of a platform. The other members won’t come down and join Damiano until he sings the appropriate verse “Buona sera, signore e signori” (=Good evening, ladies and gentlemen) and accompany it with a theatrical flamboyant bow (that feels very Italian). That’s when, technically introduced to the audience after the official greeting, bassist Victoria de Angelis and guitarist Thomas Raggi come off the platform and join Damiano.

There’s nothing excessive about the visual effects. Only the use of white lights that give the perception of depth and in the background the big shadows of the group’s silhouettes. They are in the front and they cast their shadows in the back; they create to you a feeling of being trapped by them but do you really want to escape?

When the second verse starts, Victoria and Thomas take the paths left and right of the stage and leave Damiano alone. They take even more advantage of the stage and in a typical classic rock band way. These two play with the side cameras but the focus is more on Damiano, whose verse sounds more like a tongue-twister. Since the cameras are rightfully on Damiano, I must now address the elephant in the room. Damiano is particularly attractive. In fact, the whole band is almost mind-bogglingly attractive and they clearly take a lot of care about how exactly they are going to look but Damiano, as the frontman, does especially so. So let’s talk about the outfit. They all have essentially the same outfit, however it is cut differently for each based on the person’s looks and personality. Isn’t it fantastic?

Damiano, who oozes confidence and sex appeal, has accordingly the most “provocative” outfit of the four. His chest and arms are bare so that his many tattoos can be seen. I’ll talk about the other outfits later as they all have their place in the... uh... white lights.

During the second chorus Victoria and Thomas return at the center and after the chorus it is time for the first solo; Victoria’s. The cameras are now on her but the lighting remains modest to accentuate the dark beat of her bass.

Victoria is the only girl of the group and the most dressed of them all - how refreshing! Her outfit is more similar to Thomas but she is buttoned up in the front. How does she wish to underscore her uniqueness as the woman of the band? But of course, with long flamboyant girly sleeves that come to delicious contrast with her aggressive stomping and her wide strides. Both her hairstyle and her outfit is inspired or basically just outright 70′s classic rock look.

It’s time for the bridge of the song right after her solo and Damiano has his attention on her and also draws the viewer’s attention to her some more. This part of the song is lower and softer - in relative terms - that’s why Damiano “chooses” her to sing it to. The lights now turn red, the intensity rises but there’s light flirtatiousness between them, with many smiles to each other and the camera that turns around them as they launch at each other playfully.

Then the song gets darker, more intense, the guitar stronger than the bass and Damiano’s voice turns to a scream. For this part, he turns to his bro, guitarist Thomas and he now draws the attention to him.

He grabs Thomas by the neck in an intense, intimate way (that doesn’t mean sexual, just intimate. His interaction with Victoria wasn’t sexual either). It is clear that through different ways Måneskin want to stress how good and close their relations are and that their singer, who is apparently a show stealer by birth, wants to ensure that they all get equal amount of attention from their audience. I love this.

True enough, nobody is left behind! The last chorus starts with a drums solo and Damiano goes up to the platform to now meet and introduce to us Ethan Torchio. Ethan stands up and his giant shadow is on the now blue background: this is the moment for the - so I hear - somewhat shy drummer to shine in his own aesthetic. The Italians leave none of their assets to fall down and Ethan’s impressive hair rightfully steals the show.

Just like Victoria and Thomas look alike, so do Ethan and Damiano, that’s why their costumes are the most similar. Ethan has a vest that covers him more than Damiano but leaves his arms bare. Because whose else the arms do you need to see if not the drummer’s?

This song has something peculiar because it was not a song originally written for Eurovision; it slows down in the end and does not end on some impressive note from the singer as usual but with the last solo we expect, that of the guitarist, because everything is fair in Måneskin! The focus has to leave Damiano, so now it’s the time for the visual effects to finally catch fire, literally, because nobody is allowed to take their eyes off them! Måneskin use a huge amount of pyro that however feels appropriate for the intense chorus and the ending guitar solo.

Thomas steps up for his solo and I forget we are in 2021. This is the most 70s thing I would ever hope to see.

In a hell of pyro, Thomas looks like he was tranferred right from a 70s rock ‘n roll concert. His outfit would be gladly taken by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones. The unbuttoned jacket with this boho tie, such a classic 70s fashion touch. His haircut and even his FACE are the epitome of the 70s - what an ending sequence!

But hey we reached the end and this is Eurovision, the song slows down dangerously. Like I said, the Italians forbid us to get distracted. The attention must return to Damiano ASAP. Damiano says one last line and takes the audience with him to the very end with a death drop.

There you have it. Måneskin had me holding my breath for the full three minutes and I did not want to take my eyes off my TV. There are countless shows that are awesome - in this very Eurovision as well - but I was impressed by how they seemed to have found the perfect balance for everything in every single moment. They found the perfect stage concept for the song, they relied on visual effects only when they needed them and they stressed every twist and turn of their sound with a perfectly fitting move or interaction. They also all effortlessly could hold your attention and they made sure that they all would, with members often helping bring out other members. This performance was beautiful and, above all, clever which is why it was undoubtedly the worthiest of the win.

#eurovision #eurovision 2021 #esc 2021 #eurovision song contest #italy #italy 2021 #maneskin #damiano david #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #music #songs #zitti e buoni #flashing tw #more

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mayaflowerxs · 3 years

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REACTION TO YOU CHOREOGRAPHING FEVER

Synopsis: You are the choreographer for their song fever and they catch you in the makings of it.

Warning: fluff

Pairing: ENHYPEN x reader

Heeseung:

The boy was in complete aww when he walked into the dance studio and saw you there. You were in the middle of doing the chorus part when you saw him through the mirror. Turning around you smiled at him and waved. He clears his throat and stands up straighter. “Are you our choreographer for Fever?” “Well I was assigned to make a choreography for the song, I still don’t have much done but I’m getting there. What to see what I’ve got so far?” He nods immediately as he walks over to the mirror walls, talking a seat against it as he waited for you to start the song to where you came up with some moves so far. He couldn’t help but smile brightly, when you finished he clapped happily. “Would you like to help me get some more moves in?” “Yes!” Becoming silent as he looked down embarrassed. Oh how pathetic he sounds for being this excited he thinks. Getting up as he stands next to you. For the rest of the day, you two come up with more moves and by the time you two leave he not only takes you out for a late night meal (he didn’t want to call it a date in hope you wouldn’t freak out on him for asking you out too early), but you two also had half of the choreography done. He couldn’t wait to come back tomorrow and work with you more.

Jay:

Walking down the hall, he was bored out of his mind. He was told to wait until the choreography for Fever was done but as the time went on he felt more and more impatient. A part of him wanted to make the choreography but he knew his management wouldn’t allow it, at least not now. Also he has a lot to learn right now, think it would be best he continued to improve on his performances and anything else before starting on making moves to songs they are releasing. Hearing Fever start playing, he nodded to the beat of it and walked closer and closer to where the source had the song playing. Planning on just walking past it, he realized that it was the practice room and most likely the choreographer was inside in the makings of it. His curiosity got the best of him and looks inside. His mouth slowly gaped as he saw you moving smoothly to the song. You were a natural and he was amazed. It was as if you owned the song. The rhythm was following you rather you following it. You huffed as you couldn’t think of any other move to follow, you didn’t want to repeat the same types of moves for it because it will only become boring. Jay gained some confidence and walked in. “I like what you have so far, can you teach me just a little bit of right now?” He asked. Jumping from your spot, you look over and see him. Without muttering a word, you nod and begin to teach him. Jay left the night with you on his mind and how nicely you moved.

Jake:

This baby was amazed, in awe, shocked and so much more. He didn’t know how to piece together his emotions. You and Jake were good friends but you never told him you were the choreographer for his new song Fever. When he couldn’t find you, he looked everywhere until he walked in on you dancing to his song. When you were finished, he clapped slowly then proceeding to clap rapidly. His bright smile that could light up the room if it was dark, shined. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted it to be a surprise.” You stomp on your feet as you pout, a bit disappointed that Jake found out before you finished. “I’m sorry! If you want I can leave while you finish then when you present it to us I will pretend I never saw this part of the choreography okay?” You giggle as you watch his jog out the room not before giving you a thumbs up. That’s the boy you love.

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon can be a quiet baby. Usually he keeps his thoughts to himself and detaches himself from the world. So when you walked into the room, you didn’t even see him there. He didn’t know what to do. He was shocked and felt awkward at the same time being in the presence of you. You were good looking and you seemed focus to get whatever you needed done. He decided to stay out of your way since you didn’t even see him, thinking it will only get more awkward if he got up and walked out since you would definitely see him then. His eyes widen a bit when you put on his song, listening to the song you felt yourself become engulfed with the song. As if the dance moves came out of you naturally. Sunghoon leans closer to focus more on the way you danced to his song. He loved it, and started bobbing his head to every time you hit a beat to the song. Loving the choreography more, he loved it so so much that when you finished he started clapping. You shout frightened and look behind you. His clapping slows as the fear of making the air awkward now came true. “Uh...hi?”

Sunoo:

He felt so shy in coming up to you. He saw you through the window and focused on each of the steps closely. At one point he started jumping in his spot in glee. He thought you were such a good dancer and the fact that you were the choreographer for his song felt like a blessing to him. He didn’t know this but you knew he was peeking at you the whole time. Usually you would feel nervous or pressured when other people saw you coming up with the steps of a dance. Given that you felt comfortable showing other people especially the singers/dancers of the song you were choreographing when the dance was already done. But seeing his face filled with joy and excitement you couldn’t help but feel appreciated. Most groups don’t even know your name, you come up with the dance but their original choreographers learn the dance and teach them rather than have you teach the idols. So to see Sunoo see you felt as if you were finally being recognized. When you getting ready to leave, you looked over to the window and saw him. His smiling face turned to a quick one of panic and his head disappears quickly out of frame. You giggle but on the other side of that wall was a Sunoofreaking out!

Jungwon:

Could not stop smiling! He was trying to find his members but when he came across you in the practice room in the middle of doing the steps he froze in his spot. You felt awkward since he was just standing there but asked him the Golden question that he was waiting for you to say. “Want to learn the steps?” Without a second thought he jogs over to you and listens intently to every word of yours. He liked how softly you taught him the move, every time he didn’t get the right step you didn’t make him feel ashamed or embarrassed if anything you reassured him that he’ll get it the next try. Jungwon didn’t feel this insane pressure he usually does when learning it with the others and with his choreographer. “You’re such a great dancer!” You clap as he got the dance right. He was an absolute pro and the fact he got the moves down and remembered them so quickly amazed you. “You too! You should choreograph more of our songs.” He says shyly. “Cross your fingers!” You say jokingly. As you two walk out the room not noticing that Jungwon had his hand behind his back. His fingers in fact crossed.

Ni-ki:

Now, he would have absolutely no idea how to approach you. A part of him wanted to ask you so many questions. Like how did you come up with the moves or how smoothly you danced to the song. Or how it seemed as if you were in your own bubble and didn’t feel this building pressure getting pent up when trying to hit each step. You had finished the entire song and you were now currently putting all the pieces together. Restarting the song as you got in formation. He watched intently and while you began to dance, he was in the back coping your moves. You looked through the mirror and met eyes with him. Smiling softly at him, he couldn’t help but blush. He wanted to stop by how embarrassed he felt but when you continued to dance he did too. When the chorus came, Niki felt more confident and got closer to join you. The two of you finishing the song strongly with no mistakes. He felt so...free. Something you were great on bringing that out of him. In the back of his head, he could only hope this sense of freedom would increase each time he learned his choreography.

#enhypen #enhypen fever #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #jake enhypen #jay enhypen #enhypen sunoo #sunoo x reader #sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #jungwon #jungwon imagines #niki imagines #ni ki enhypen #sunoo enhypen #kpop imagines

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tvdiaries-imagines · 3 years

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Old Flame: Pt. 17

Warnings: Cursing, tobacco use

Word Count: 4694 (the longest chapter so far!)

OLD FLAME MASTERLIST: CLICK HERE

“WHERE IS SHE?!”

Klaus roared throughout the courtyard, furious that you are nowhere to be found after you successfully snapped his neck. The moon was out the last time he’s seen you but waking up, the moon had disappeared and now it’s daylight. He usually wouldn’t have woken up this late from a simple snapped neck, but you took a page out of his book and stuck a vile of vervain in his system after successfully finding his vervain collection.

Hayley and Jackson were across the way on the second floor, having a quiet chat beside the railing. “Who?” Hayley asked, puzzled.

“Y/N!” Klaus shouted, fuming as he’s glancing around the vicinity.

Kol stepped out of one of the rooms on the second floor after hearing a frantic original. Hayley and Jackson stepped inside the nearest room, figuring Kol could handle Klaus. “I thought she was with you, Nik?” Kol brought up.

“Apparently, she said she was fine last night.” Klaus raced towards his brother who sauntered inside the bedroom he’s occupying during his stay. “Then she snapped my bloody neck and disappeared with the stake.” He retrieved his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed your number. After a couple rings, he nearly cursed after being sent to voicemail. It wasn’t a surprise to him since almost every time you’re in a dire situation, your phone is never answered. But, Klaus figured he’d try.

“What happened to her when I left to speak to Esther?” Klaus asked, jaw clenched.

“If I tell you, give me your word that you won’t be cross with me.” Kol eyed him anxiously.

“What did you do?” Klaus muttered in an alarming tone.

“All I did for Y/N was a favor. I had no control of how she’d react.”

“Spit it out, brother. What is it?”

“She was worried about her friend, Kai Parker.” Kol answered. “Figured Esther was behind it, so she requested I find out. Turns out, mother sent him to a prison world and there’s no fixing it.”

“And that’s the reason for her lunacy?” The hybrid’s nostrils flared in aggravation.

“It is.”

“Good riddance. I don’t know what Y/N sees in that imbecile.” Irritation pricked at him.

To add even more stress, an angry Finn Mikaelson immediately walked in, magically breaking one of the vases on the table. “Where is she?”

“Finn, please, join us.” Klaus said with blatant mockery.

“Don’t make me ask again.” Finn sneered.

“I assume you’re referring to our mother. Fear not, she’s tucked away somewhere perfectly safe.” Klaus added. “You’ll never find her.”

“You think you’ve won. Let’s see how long that arrogance lasts, brother.” Finn glared at his brothers before turning around and marching away with heavy steps.

Klaus tried reaching you again but was sent to voicemail. That alone ticked him off and he was close to throwing his cell phone at the brick wall.

“I’m going to find Y/N. You’re coming with me, Kol.” Klaus made his way out of the bedroom in lengthy steps.

“Oh, splendid.” Kol responded back, trailing behind his brother.

Reaching the courtyard, there were a handful of Hayley’s wolf allies and Marcel’s group of vamps gathered together. Klaus is aware that it’s Hayley and Marcel’s attempt for them to make a truce for the bigger picture.

“Klaus, stop!” Hayley blurted, Klaus and Kol stopped in their tracks.

“Finn spelled all of the exits. We can’t leave.” Marcel added.

Klaus put a palm up at eye view, slowly reaching out until his skin sizzled against the spelled blockade, letting out a faint groan from the affliction. He threw his healing hand down to his side and shifted his view to his youngest brother, expression hardened. “Fantastic.” Klaus muttered sarcastically.

(Meanwhile…)

After disappearing into the night, you booked a suite at the Ritz-Carlton. You’re aware that Klaus has plenty of connections, so you assured that you didn’t put a card on file in case he traces it. Instead, you compelled the staff to allow you to stay for free. You even took extra precautions and showed them a photo of Klaus so that if he ever steps foot into the Ritz-Carlton, they’ll notify you right away.

Having your humanity off so far has been dandy because you had no care in the world. If you were your normal self, there’s no doubt that you would be following Klaus around like a lost puppy during one of his missions and the thought made you sick to your stomach right now.

You woke up this afternoon to your suite nearly trashed from the little party you decided to throw last night because you gathered a handful of good looking people from bourbon street and plenty of liquor to keep you inebriated throughout the night. A man and a woman stayed overnight, thanks to your compulsion. You knew you’d be famished this afternoon and fresh blood ultimately did the trick for you.

After an incredible shower and devouring your sinful snacks, you compelled your victims to bandage up their wrists and be on their way. Housekeeping began tidying up your suite after you made your way out.

Though your craving for blood is fulfilled, you desired a hot bowl of gumbo, so you threw on your sunglasses and trekked through the quarter, crossing your fingers that your pesky beau isn’t looking high and low for you in the area. Your heels clicked along the cement, wearing your best black dress sitting pretty just above your knees.

Gumbo Shop was what you decided on and the friendly host sat you down at a table inside, farthest away from the windows. She did as expected by leaving a menu with you and handing you off to a server.

Within the hour, all of your cravings are satisfied so you left a generous tip for your server and went on your merry way. You weren’t sure what you planned to do next, so you allowed the city to decide for you. A street performer captured your attention so you stopped to observe.

Out of the blue, you spot Finn Mikaelson nearly walking past you in a rush. “Hi Finn. Why are you always so glum?” You teased, brow raised. He put a halt to his steps, hands behind his back. He wore a dark suit, the jacket fully unbuttoned.

“No use in going home anytime soon, dear Y/N.” He implied arrogantly. “Nobody can get in or out, thanks to my spell.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but alright.” In the blink of an eye, Finn strolled away. “Change of plans I guess.” You smirked.

(Later…)

Entering through the gates of the compound, you discovered over a dozen people in the courtyard. It seemed like they were not enjoying themselves whatsoever. There were a few familiar faces as well, including Marcel, Josh and Hayley. You wondered if Klaus or Kol managed to get trapped here as well since they weren’t in the space from what you can see. Your presence seemed to catch everyone’s attention though.

“Don’t you all look cozy.” Your haughty tone was obvious.

“Y/N wait!” Marcel alerted. “Don’t take another step. Finn put up a boundary spell.”

“Thanks for the heads up Marcel. But I already knew that. I bumped into Finn earlier.”

“But you came anyway?” Marcel raised a brow in suspicion.

You shrugged your shoulders in response, leaning against the wall close enough to the invisible barrier. Once everyone else besides Marcel realized that you were no help in freeing them, they were no longer interested in your presence and went back to sulking.

“Ah I see.” He came to a realization. “You’re here to gloat. Why?”

“There you are.” Klaus appeared from the shadows. His edge of irritation returned and drew a scowl over his face.

“Here I am.” You were feeling exceptionally smug. While examining your fingernails, you planned to get a manicure after this foolish conversation.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”

You showed uninterest without any eye contact as you pulled a cigarette and lighter from your purse. You placed the toxic stick in between your lips, lighting the end of it and taking a puff effortlessly as if you’ve always been a smoker. Klaus glared at your repulsive act.

“I’ve been around.” You responded after exhaling, finally making eye contact with the hybrid.

“Care to explain why you felt it was necessary to render me unconscious for hours on end and then scurry off to god knows where.” With a brisk elevator look, he motioned a nagging hand at you. Klaus was displeased with your outfit choice without him there to claw the eyes out of every man that looks at you with hungry eyes.

He almost asked you about the whereabouts of the white oak stake, but he remembered that there are ears around that he doesn’t trust.

“The thought of having to explain to you bores me.” You fake yawned. “So I don’t think I will.”

“Something’s different about her, Nik.” Kol added, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’m aware. Her humanity must be off.” Klaus made his way closer towards you, stopping as close to the barrier as he could. You stepped over to be face to face with him, sniggering.

“There ya go.” You snorted in amusement, the toxic stick weighing at your sides, carelessly flicking off the ash on the grounds of the compound. “You really aren’t the dumbest Mikaelson, Nik.” Klaus ignored your unnecessary comment, his firing eyes following the cigarette going from your mouth to your sides.

Kol began sauntering over to his brother, standing side by side. “Oh sister. Your humanity, eh?” He shook his head in disappointment, arms folded across his chest. “I thought you were bigger than this.”

You dropped the half finished cigarette on the concrete by your feet, crushing the butt with the ball of your stiletto. “My favorite Mikaelson brother is disappointed in me.” Your hand flew to your chest, fake pouting. “I’m crushed. I really am.”

“Stop this nonsense immediately, Y/N.” Klaus said, a scowl strewn across his face.

“Or what?”

“Do not test me.”

“Well last time I checked, you’re trapped in there while I’m free out here. So joke’s on you, my love.” You teased.

A sinister chuckle left Klaus’s mouth. “You shut off your humanity for whom? A useless dullard.” You stared at the ceiling, placing your hands at your hips. “Out of all the choices Esther has made in life, I’d say that sending Sir Malachai Parker back to the prison world was the best one.” He grinned, hoping to have hit a nerve to get your humanity back. “It pleases me knowing that he will be stuck there for all eternity. All alone.” He chose his words carefully and perfectly.

Suddenly, your hands fell and your blank eyes set onto Klaus’s, unmoving. By your reaction, there was a glimmer of a chance that it worked. You grasped both of the Mikaelsons’ undivided attention.

“Nice try.” You cocked your head to your side, your once unreadable expression is now evidently complacent and it boiled Klaus’s blood. His hands clenched at his sides as he’s trying to hide his defeat from you. Kol just simply sighed at their defeat, aware that it was a longshot anyways. “I’m bored. Bye boys.” Without a care in the world, you turned on your heel and departed the compound.

Once you were out of sight, Kol turned to face his brother who was still looking at the spot you were once standing at, unable to mutter any words. “Nik?” Kol murmured, careful not to overwhelm him.

After a beat, Klaus continued to ignore his brother and vacated the spot where he stood. He made his way towards a vacant section of the compound. Kol followed behind him.

Before Klaus could touch the handle of one of the doors on the first floor, Kol attempted to acquire his attention for the second time. “Brother?” Klaus puts a halt to his long strides, taking a deep breath.

In the blink of an eye, he vamp speeds to Kol, barely leaving any space in between the two as his murderous eyes bore into Kol’s. “Don’t.” Klaus warned through clenched teeth. That dangerous tone itself informed Kol to leave him alone in the meantime. And just like that, Klaus swung the door open and violently slammed it behind him, causing a few of the other vampires and wolves to flinch.

Your mani and pedi finished in an hour. You began scouring the quarter for inspiration on what other shenanigans to get into again. After walking in and out of a few gift shops along the way and stopping to tip some of the street performers, you finally stumbled upon bourbon street.

Normally you’d throw your money at the bartenders in one of the many jazz clubs, however, house music blared through one of the other clubs and it instantaneously called your name. Males and females in their 20s occupied this loud space, yet, you didn’t mind one bit because they’re of your age compared to your 1000 year old lover with anger issues.

Dancing and mingling with these fine people made your current cold heart wish that Camille was here to join you. But you wouldn’t dare risk having her call Klaus or Kol and informing them of your whereabouts. Who knows, you might end up snapping her neck dead for doing so and you didn’t care to waste your energy. Marcel and Josh could be trusted not to tell a soul, however, they’re trapped in the compound.

You released your sharp teeth from a poor soul’s neck on the dance floor undiscovered. The warmth of her blood brought you satisfaction. “Go wipe that up in the restroom.” You compelled her and she walked off like a zombie.

(Meanwhile…)

The longer time passed with the magical barrier being up, the more Marcel and his vamps’s hunger grew for blood. It wasn’t looking good for Kol and the werewolves. They were practically walking blood bags.

To make matters worse, Klaus’s patience started running out. He needed to get to you before you caused any havoc or came to any harm. This is the first time you’ve ever turned your humanity off so he has no idea what to expect. The feeling made him sick to his stomach. Not to mention, the white oak stake can be anywhere but he trusts you’re smart enough to have it hidden somewhere good.

The entirety of the barrier will not diminish until nightfall and they couldn’t wait that long. But to their luck, it’s a miracle that Davina fancied Kol. She received a phone call from him, needing her assistance for a spell to lift the barrier and she put whatever she was doing on hold to come to his aid.

They were almost certain that the spell would work. However, being that Finn is channeling something extremely powerful, they were only to be given 60 seconds for the barrier to be down. The plan was to have the wolves, Kol and Klaus exit the vicinity.

Davina and Kol now stood face to face with the invisible barrier in between, palms as close to touching as it would allow them. Small, lighted candles lined up in front of the witches and a circle of salt surrounded them as they continued muttering their spell to one another.

Due to the spell taking its course, all of the vampires needed to resort to cowering in the shadows until after Kol and Davina’s spell die out. Klaus and the wolves were allowed to wait beside the barrier.

A gust of wind abruptly flew through Kol and Davina, causing the candles to blow out and some of the salt to scatter. They exchanged smiles and were relieved to have the chance to touch palms.

“Okay, Jack. Now!” Hayley announced.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jackson didn’t hesitate to rush his pack out of there, guiding them towards the exit along with Hayley.

“Remember, 60 seconds!” Kol reminded them. He was eager for the werewolves to egress and then he followed suit.

But before Kol could take another step, Klaus dashed to him, holding him by the shoulder. “Slight change of plans, brother.” In a trice, he threw Kol in the air until he landed about 50 feet away, grunting in pain. “I no longer have to treat you like anything but the treacherous liar you truly are.” The hybrid spat. Davina’s neck snapped to him, bewildered.

“What the bloody hell?” Kol gradually sat up, feeling just as confused as Davina.

“Where is she?” Klaus questioned, vampires eyeing his brother hungrily while they still waited in the shadows.

“Please, they’ll kill him!” Davina pleaded.

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he betrayed our sister.”

“What will Y/N think?!” She added.

“Not to worry about my beloved’s opinions of Kol’s predicament. Let’s just say, she’s not herself today.” Klaus replied to Davina before returning his attention to the mischievous Mikaelson, who now rose to his feet. “Rebekah never made it to her new body, did she? Seeing as how you casted the spell, and well, you’re you. I’d hardly call it an uncrackable case.”

“Rebekah’s fine, Nik. It was a prank.” Kol quicked marched towards his older brother. “Nothing more than what you lot have done to me.” He pointed a nagging finger. “But I guess it’s different when it’s one-” The magical blockade was up and running again and its wrath burned Kol’s pale hand, causing him to reel backwards and hiss in pain.

“Barrier’s back up.” Klaus flickered his eyes at the ravenous vampires coming out of the shadows. “And those vampires look oh so hungry.”

Kol grew anxious as the vampires made their way to him like a predator ready to take down its prey. Davina’s eyes began to well up in tears, yearning to come to Kol’s aid.

“I was willing to welcome you back into my home, but you had to return to your selfish petty jealousies.” Klaus said. “Well, let’s see how they help you survive when you’re stuck in there!” He stormed off towards the exit without the thought of a glance. He felt no remorse whatsoever for his little brother.

(Meanwhile…)

The sun began to set and it was no secret that you look damned good in the tight dress and towering heels. A handful of men even offered to pay for your drinks and you obviously obliged although you could’ve easily compelled them to. This made your job much easier.

Since you were pretty buzzed and in an amazing mood, you allowed one of the pathetic men to dance with you, only being allowed to touch your arms or your waist.

Due to the substantial amount of liquor in his system, his confidence was at an all time high and he attempted to lean in for a kiss. You snorted at his juvenile gesture and turned the other cheek. “N-Nice try. Fun’s over.”

“Oh come on.” He insisted. As you were about to free yourself of his hold, he tightened his grip on your waist and it caught you off guard. Little does he know that you aren’t human, so you prepared yourself to use your vampire strength to free yourself. You smirked, allowing him this minor moment before you stripped it away from him.

The drunkard fool leaned forward once again to press his lips onto yours while his hands stroked your waist. You rolled your eyes, snickering as you seized his wrists. “I said-” In a flash, he was thrown across the dancefloor but it wasn’t because of you. Some of the clubbers' attention were focused on what just happened and others acted like nothing happened. Before he could think to stand to his feet, one of the sizable bouncers roughly brought him to his feet to begin dragging him out.

Everything happened so fast and you focused your view to the only person standing beside you to your left. Klaus Mikaelson. “Oh fuck you, Nik.” You grimaced at your inessential savior, your heels rapidly clicking off of the dance floor towards the exit. As much as you wished to vamp speed away, you were smart enough not to do it in the public eye. Humanity off or not.

Instead of hiding off in an alley, you stayed put by the entrance of the club where passersby can clearly see you, leaning against one of the brick walls. You searched through your small purse until you found a cigarette and lighter, but as you were about to light it, rough fingers pulled it out of your mouth.

Klaus didn’t mutter a word, but you can tell by the expression on his face and his body language that he was seething inwardly. You were revelling in the moment. “I’m a vampire. I can’t get lung cancer, idiot.” You scoffed at him. As much as you want to try to light another cigarette, you know that Klaus is just going to toss it.

“We’re going.” He grabbed a hold of your bare upper arm, signaling to follow him or suffer the consequences. You shook his grip off, unphased by it.

“You’re hilarious.” You said, keeping your feet planted to the ground. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I’m serious, love. This isn’t a game. Let’s go.” Klaus remarked, towering over you.

You peered up at him through your lashes, shooting daggers. “Did you forget? I don’t fucking care. Now leave me alone.” You shot him a glare and attempted to walk past him, but he stepped to the side as a wall.

“You out of all people know what I am capable of.” Klaus started. “And yet, you are determined to incur my wrath.”

“Your wrath?” You snorted. “Okay then, show me. Right here, right now. In front of all of these people.” Klaus took a peep over your head, unmoving. You hummed in amusement. “I thought so.”

You wasted no time and began trekking down bourbon street’s sidewalk, unsure of where you are headed as long as it’s away from Klaus. You freed your cell phone from your purse and began endlessly scrolling through social media, ensuring not to bump into anyone coming your way.

To your misfortune, Klaus materialized beside you, walking on the outside of the sidewalk. “Oh, you’re still here.” You said dryly, eyes never leaving the screen.

“In what world is this heretic worth your humanity?” He asked, disgusted. His eyes flickered from straight ahead to you.

“My world, apparently.”

“You know, you have people that could have helped you. There’s Stefan, Damon, Kol.” One by one, Klaus counted up to three fingers in the air before going back to relaxing his hand at his side. “Even Rebekah, if it weren’t for Kol’s foolish prank.”

“Good to know, Nik.”

He gazed at you, swallowing before speaking. “You also had me.”

“I can see that since you keep following me.” You finally peeled your eyes from your phone, throwing it back in your purse, raising your chin up at Klaus. He briskly narrowed his eyes, not allowing your cold response to get to him.

“Oh come now, sweetheart. Let’s not make this difficult for the both of us.”

“You’re making it difficult for yourself.” You waved an airy hand. “Now shoo, you’re killing the vibe.”

“Alright then, Y/N. I’ve been far more patient with you.” Klaus creeped up behind you and swiftly cracked your spine so that you were comatose. Then, he scooped you into his arms so that he held you bridal style.

To his luck, his swift, yet flawless gesture didn’t get a second look from anyone in the crowd. It seemed as if you were absurdly tipsy and he prevented you from falling to your knees. He felt a pang of relief and his tense shoulders relaxed knowing he can safely bring you home.

(Later…)

Finn’s barrier spell throughout the Mikaelson compound is now nonexistent. It is dead silent and the only two souls occupying this vast structure are you and the original hybrid for now. Your limp, unconscious body is tied to a wooden chair including your wrists and your ankles.

Klaus has been pacing for the past few minutes, conjuring up different plans to mentally bring back the woman he loves, instead of this facade of a nightmare that is taking over. And hell, if it weren’t for your humanity switch, he would revel in tearing that dress off of you and making love to you until the sunrise.

The sudden sound of your groaning put a halt to his steps. He watched as your head steadily moved up and you cracked your neck. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your surroundings which appears to be one of the many rooms in this godforsaken building. You raised a brow at your lover who is standing merely a few feet away just ahead of you. “This doesn’t look like the Ritz-Carlton.” You said in your head.

“It would be impolite if I didn’t ask how your catnap was.” Klaus commented, wearing a shit eating grin.

“It was fantastic.” You returned his cocky expression with a flashing smile of your own.

“Now that I have you where you can’t simply walk off, let’s get to business then, shall we?” Klaus took amble strides towards you and kneeled until he was at eye level with you. “This will only take a second.” He noted, voice low enough for only the two of you to hear.

As soon as his irises stared into yours, you turned your chin to the right, but Klaus was quick to seize your jaw with his strong fingers, shifting your view back to him. You knew exactly what his intentions were at that very moment.

He’s going to compel you.

The location of the white oak stake is still unknown to him and since he is closer to getting you back to your normal self, he’ll finally get the stake back.

“Get on with it already. I don’t have all day.” You implied. Klaus kept his frustration in check from your moronic remark and went on with what he intended to do.

Your eyes focused on his, observing his pupils fascinatingly growing and shrinking. "You will put an end to this madness and turn it back on.” He released his grasp on your face.

You blinked twice and your lips parted, chest rising and falling. “Nik.” You paused. “I-” Klaus began freeing one wrist from the bindings.

“What is it?” He asked, concerned.

As soon as one wrist was free, you sneered at him and before he could blink, you tore off the arm of the chair, flipped it over so that the sharp bit pointed out and stabbed Klaus in the neck with it. “Ah!” He called out, face contorting from the unexpected laceration.

Obviously, you could have simply kept playing it off as if your humanity was back so that Klaus frees you of all of the restraints. But, you wanted to poke fun at him instead. Inflicting pain onto Klaus was significantly more gratifying right now.

“You really thought you had me there, didn’t you?” You let out a burst of laughter. Klaus cried out in pain while pulling the stick of wood out of his neck and tossing it to the floor, taking heavy breaths as the gash healed. “Nice try, Nik. But I’ve been drinking vervain as of late. Thanks to Stefan and Damon for the tip.”

Instead of inflicting the pain back to you or snapping your neck to shut you up, Klaus stormed out of the room to overlook the courtyard from the railing. As much as he wanted to rip the railing off from his frustration, he shockingly kept his cool and an idea came to mind. He obtained his cell phone from his pant pocket and dialed a familiar number.

After many rings, his call was answered.

“Klaus?” The voice on the other line said.

“Hello, old friend.” Klaus grinned, oddly comforted to hear their voice. “I’m in need of a favor.”

A/N: Hope you guys appreciated the longer chapter!! I know the last one had a lot of Y/N x Kol moments, so I gave you guys more of Y/N x Klaus moments in this one. I have to say, it was quite fun writing with Y/N’s humanity off. And it was especially fun writing Klaus’s responses to it lol...Oh and I’m sure you guys can guess who Klaus’s ‘old friend’ is :)

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undercoveravenger · 3 years

Text

Muses

Pairing: Reggie x Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Could I request a Reggie x male reader. Where he’s Julie's brother and after their mom’s death he picked up painting and he can see Reggie and stuff and Reggie just hangs around him and makes him laugh and stuff.”

A/N: Not going to lie, I’m not super happy with this one but it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks so I decided I just needed to finish it and get it posted. I hope you guys like it anyway!

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

The first day you met Reggie was a few days after Julie started singing again. You’d been in your room alone, staring blankly at an empty canvas. You had been meaning to work on your painting for your art class for weeks now, but you hadn’t been able to think of what to paint. Every day, you’d pull out your brushes and lay out your paints, but day after day the canvas remained just as blank as the day before.

Then one day as you were contemplating the way the colors should've been blooming over the canvas by now, a voice sounded from behind you. “Oh, a painter, huh? Man, this whole family is so talented!”

You twisted around to face the voice, eyes widening as you came face to face with a boy you’d never met. He seemed to be about your age, with dark hair that’d been slicked back out of his face and curious dark brown eyes that were fixed on you. “Who- who are you?”

His eyes widened almost comically, “You can see me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be able to?” You replied, glancing around warily, half expecting a camera crew to pop out and tell you that you’d been pranked.

The stranger blinked, clearly having anticipated not getting a response, “I, um, I’m not-” His brows furrowed as he struggled to find the words, “My name is Reggie, and I died in 1995,” he eventually forced out.

“Oh.” It was definitely a little far-fetched for your taste, but it would explain why you hadn’t heard your door open when he entered and why his clothes looked a little outdated. “Right.” Your brows furrowed as you turned your gaze back to your blank canvas, “Should I ask why a ghost is here to haunt me or should I just call Doctor Turner?”

The brunet laughed, flopping onto your bed behind you and propping his head up on his hands as he watched you, “Nah, you don’t need a therapist. We were just waiting on Julie to get home from Flynn’s and I got bored.”

You raised an eyebrow pointedly as you glanced back at him, “We?” You hesitated as the rest of his words caught up to you, “And why do you know my sister?”

Reggie brightened, “Oh! I forgot to tell you; I’m here with my band! Julie freed us from where we’d been trapped in limbo for twenty-five years!” He smirked a little, tugging at the lapels of his leather jacket and grinned up at you, “Now we’re trying to get Julie to join our band so we can still perform. She’s really talented! Your whole family is really great at what they do.” His eyes drifted past you to your empty canvas, “What’re you painting?”

You sighed as you followed his gaze, moving to sit next to him on the edge of your bed. “I don’t know.” Your eyes dropped to the paintbrush clutched in your hands and you started twisting it idly between your fingers just to give yourself something to do, “I haven’t been able to figure out what to paint since my mom-” You were unable to finish, but Reggie seemed to know what you meant.

“Right,” Reggie was quiet for a moment as he stared thoughtfully at your canvas, his brows furrowed. “How about the sky?”

You blinked, confused by the sudden suggestion. “The sky?”

“Yeah,” Reggie cheered, grinning widely, “I always used to go look at the sunset when I was feeling lost. It would remind me that no matter how big my problems seemed, they weren’t going to last forever. Maybe painting it will do the same for you.”

You made a thoughtful sound as you turned back to your canvas, fingers itching toward your palate of paints for the first time in what felt like ages. "Maybe it will…" you murmured, quickly picking up your favorite pencil and starting to sketch out an outline as the big picture started to come together in your mind.

Reggie grinned as he watched you, but eventually got to his feet and started wandering back toward the door. "Julie should be back soon so I’ve got to get to practice, but I look forward to seeing your masterpiece.”

It took you a moment to realize what he’d said and he was nearly out the door when you called after him. “Hey, Reggie?”

He turned back to face you, brows raised inquisitively, “Yeah?”

You struggled to come up with what you could say to express how thankful you really were. “Thank you,” you said eventually.

Reggie smiled brightly, tugging at the collar of his leather jacket, “Absolutely! I’m glad I could help!” He turned away, heading for the door again.

You turned back to your painting as he made to leave, but called after him anyway. “Hey, um-” You bit your lip, wincing at the awkwardness of what you were trying to say, “If you ever want to come back and keep me company while I paint, you’re welcome to.”

It took the ghost a moment to realize what you meant, but his excitement was plain to see. “Yeah!” he cheered, eyes crinkling at the corners from how hard he was smiling at you. “Yeah, I’d love that!” He paused as realization struck him, glancing over at the door forlornly, “I really have to get going or they’re going to go looking for me, but I’ll be back later, okay?”

He waited for you to acknowledge his statement before disappearing with a wave and a flash of light. You were a little disappointed that he’d left, but you were sure that you’d beaten your artist’s block. And hey, even if you hadn’t gotten past it permanently, you knew your new muse would come back for you.

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themusicplayedherlife · 3 years

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To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give.

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them.

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head.

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself.

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!”

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out.

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine.

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off.

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house.

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi wan kenobi imagine #reader insert #ben kenobi #star wars imagine #au #f!reader

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prose-for-hire · 3 years

Text

UC Sunnyhell: Part Two

Hell is a place on Earth

Previous Part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: College AU where Spike is the campus bad boy who secretly is a softie that writes poems and reader is the new transfer who just moved into Spike's apartment since it was the only available room on campus (no one wants to willingly live with Spike). Spike constantly having one night stands over, reader always trying to study. Things appear to go from bad to worse.

Originally requested by: @sunflower-stan

Other tag: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere

Warning: Sex references. Swearing.

The first semester had been and gone by this point. You were settling into life at UC Sunnydale, found your friendship group in Buffy and the others. But one thing you still weren’t accustomed to, was living with Spike. He was hard to get along with at the best of times but living with him was a whole different thing.

He appeared to stay up most of the night and sleep well into the afternoon. He played loud punk music almost every waking hour and he smoked like a chimney. He never appeared to listen to a word you said and he pretty much did the opposite from whatever you said or thought anyway.

It was becoming really hard to live with him. Especially when he seemed to do everything he could to make you want to move out. He found it easier to live alone. To hide in the depths of what he knew than

Because of your current living situation you had started to branch out and pursue some of your interests. It beat staying in all the time and you really wanted to find someone that you could relate to.

You were a fan of musicals and the theatre. Poetry and literature. You liked reading and the way a writer could weave such intricate feelings. Scenes and spoken word able to explain your own feelings better than you ever could.

Your new friends didn’t really share your enthusiasm – even Willow was more into science and computers. Although your friend group were kind enough to listen to the way you spoke about your interests. They certainly didn’t make you feel bad about expressing your passions. But they just didn’t share your love and so you began to try to search out people that you could connect with. On some kind of deeper level.

You had been frequenting different bars that held open mic nights. Watching plays and listening to monologues. Letting the intricate wordplay wash over you. It could make you feel so many emotions. So many feelings were conjured.

Your favourite were the open mic nights. You pretty much never got up yourself, you usually would just listen. You were working yourself up to performing something of your own. You wrote things too it was just a matter of working on your performing skills. You were thinking of joining the clubs, maybe to improve your confidence in your writing. In your performing.

You walked back home from a play you had watched (and cried at) to find Spike sat there scribbling something. It was the first time you had ever seen him actually writing or appearing to do any work.

You were about to make a snide comment about it and then he noticed your presence. He almost jumped five feet in the air in surprise. He then hid the notebook behind his back and immediately got up to leave now you had returned. He left muttering something about you being a nosy bitch.

Spike had taken the opportunity, while he finally had time where he felt comfortable since you had actually left the house for once to write. This was something he didn’t like people knowing about. He wiped his eye as he stormed away. Hoping to God you hadn’t seen that. He couldn’t bear you knowing him that way. Laughing.

It was Friday evening and you had some friends over. There was a sudden knock at the front door. Spike had taken a baseball bat from his room and held it up as if he was ready to swing it.

Willow and Buffy’s eyes bulged at the object in his hand as they peaked from your bedroom doorway. Buffy was pleased they had convinced you to come to self-defence class now.

He walked slowly to the door, meeting you in the hallway skipping happily past him. He grabbed you back looking at you as if you were mad. He was expecting debt collectors. Again.

“Spike, it’s the pizza guy” You moved your shoulder from him before carrying on back to the door with the dollars in your hand, “What is wrong with you?” you muttered.

He scowled, jaw tensing as Buffy and Willow giggled at the way he had been so tense and he stormed away smacking the edge of the bat against the wall in his frustration. Leaving a small hole there.

You brought the pizzas back into your room (so you didn’t have to face spike again) and shared them out with your friends.

After you finished your meal and managed to calm yourselves down from whatever had just happened, talk of course turned back to Spike.

“So how is it… y’know…” Willow asked before mouthing “with Spike”. You hadn’t realised how much built up rage you had inside until you launched into your conversation.

“Well, I can tell you that Hell really is a place on Earth”

“That bad?”

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with him – if I even breath in his direction he has a problem with it!”

“Yeah, he’s always been a complete pig. Some people are just born evil” Buffy shrugged.

“Buffy! He’s not evil! He’s just… mean spirited”

“In the most evil way” Buffy added. She had never liked Spike. He was cruel and treated her as if she was dumb just because she was in a sorority and enjoyed cheerleading.

What you and the two girls didn’t realise, was that Spike was eavesdropping. You had all been laughing really loud and he was about to take his chance to kick Buffy and her little loser friend out. Until he found he was interested to hear what you all had to say about him.

You groaned, thinking about the way things had been. You needed to vent. So, you took the chance while you were in the company of your now closest friends.

“He’s inconsiderate and rude and also I’m pretty sure he never washes his clothes... but he always smells good. Weird”

“Totally weird”

“Well, we did like, warn you”

“And oh my God! He walks around naked all the time! There’s always some stranger he’s brought home and they are always so loud! He never studies and the plates are always piled high in the kitchen! It’s disgusting – he’s disgusting!”

“He’s always been so arrogant and gross”

“Hey, don’t wig, next year we can find a place. The four of us – right Buffy?” Willow offered, including her girlfriend. She comforted you as you caught your breath from your outburst. Willow rested her hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

“Really?” You asked with a smile as Buffy nodded. She was going to move out from her sorority so she wasn’t distracted for her last year she had already decided.

“Don’t worry, y/n. We’ll keep you sane” Buffy insisted.

Spike scoffed. The way Buffy acted as if she was saving you from him. As if he was a fate worse than death. You angered him. The way you had determined his character over a few fleeting conversations. The gossip your silly little friends told you.

You became enemy number one. Even more so than you had been before. He hated gossip and the way people would laugh behind his back. You reminded him of this every time he looked at you now, not that you knew this.

The annoyance for the other just kept growing. Yours had originally been fuelled by your friends rumours, but his actions were now getting worse. Spike was seething at your dismissive tone against your character. He didn’t even want a roommate, he only agreed the landlord to put the room up so he didn’t put up the rent again.

So he decided to try and make you leave. Properly this time. He didn’t care anymore, you reminded him of everyone out there. Everyone that he hid himself away from. Distanced himself from.

The tension rose uncomfortably. He was more rude. More gross. And he made sure to do everything he knew that he could to annoy you. It was petty, he knew it, but he knew it would get a rise out of you.

One afternoon, you had been scraping off some congealed red liquid that you had been concerned was blood. He hung out with a weird crowd, you only hoped some poor thing hadn’t been exploded in there. Although, upon further inspection it appeared to be tomato soup. But you would probably embellish the story a little to your friends.

You washed your hands and scowled at him. He had moved to lean against the doorway and just watch you clean.

“God, Spike, you’re so lazy”

“’Scuse me?”

“You don’t clean, you don’t study – what exactly do you do with your life?”

He was affronted by this. By the way you spoke to him. How he felt like you acted like you were better than him. In your frustration you didn’t care what he thought. He just didn’t care. You were trying to live your life.

He could hear Buffy or even Angel’s voice through your own. The way they had always berated him.

“And what? I should be like you? You’re not exactly making a proper go of it are you? Haven’t seen you do much of anything ‘cept follow them brainless bints around the shop. When you’re not doing that you sit in your room as life passes you by, livin’ through your little Musical shows rather than living in the real world - You’re boring. You’ll live your pathetic little life, stuck in your lame little ways until you die”

“Spike-”

“You’re all the same! You and your preppy little band of misfits looking down your noses at everyone and yet you can’t see the obvious, can you? You’re so bored with your pathetic, frigid little lives that you have to make it my bloody problem!”

You decided, seeing as that’s how he viewed you that you would treat him exactly like that. Like he treated you. Things got worse.

He started to invite people over all the time. You would call it a party but there was nothing celebratory about it. You were confined to your room most of the time as they all laughed and screamed along to their music. They were always drinking and playing music no matter what time of the day you saw them.

You usually avoided them, locking your door, but you had needed to slip out of your room for a moment.

“Who’s this?” One of the guests pointed you out as you tried to make it to the bathroom without anybody noticing you. Now everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Oh don’t mind them, they’re just for show hasn’t had an original thought their entire life” Spike shrugged.

“Aw, no, Spike. Another mindless automaton” One of his friends spoke up and he laughed. It was a cold laugh, there was no humour in it.

“Do you, like, want to-”

“Don’t, love. They’re nobody” Spike stopped the blonde girl from speaking to you more kindly than the rest. They all laughed at this and began to tease you.

You left, slamming the door and you heard them laughing, jeering at you for your reaction. It made tears sting the back of your eyes. You collected yourself, shrugging on your jacket. You walked to a place you knew you would be welcome.

You knew that you weren’t going to get on. But this was getting out of hand. You hated him. Hated the way he treated you. The way he judged you, despite him knowing exactly how that feels.

As you thought this, he appeared to be thinking the same thing. Which made Spike scoff and frown. Was he really better than any of the people he hated? He shook that thought away. Downing his beer and looking for another rather than reflect.

You had called Buffy on your way over and she had been quick to contact the entire group to tell them there had been a major incident. Everyone piled around to her dorm room so that they could support you. You had sounded upset on the phone.

You explained everything that had happened and they all comforted you the best that they could. Xander then showed you the stack of films he had brought to try to cheer you up. He had even found some Musicals just for you.

Buffy explained that she had called Angel but he says he’s sorry but he’s busy right now. Buffy appeared disappointed and when you asked her about it she explained. They used to date when they were seniors in college but they had broken up despite still both having feelings for each other.

She explained it had seemed the right thing to do at the time, but now she wished they were back together. You insisted that you would make it your mission to help them get back together which made Buffy grin at you. She really did value your friendship.

As the night wore on your friends began to discuss the idea of you taking your revenge on Spike. It had made you laugh as they suggested ridiculous pranks and ideas that wouldn’t bother him at all. But then they began to take it more seriously. Insisting that you should get even.

You said you weren’t sure. And left it at that. But they thought you had better do something or he wouldn’t stop.

You eventually went back to a trashed house after staying for the weekend with Buffy. You stared at the mess. Maybe you would have to do something.

It had been unusually quiet the few days prior and you should have known better than to hope he had stopped. You had heard a girl, one of Spike’s partners that came around more than most (Harmony but her sex noises were nothing close to harmonious). She explained that if they were to have a threesome it would have to be boy-boy-girl. Apparently, neither of them had been able to swing Charlize Theron.

You had overheard this conversation over breakfast one morning on. A rare occasion they were both awake (they hadn’t gone to sleep yet). You had immediately spat out your food in disgust of their blunt discussion.

It had been perhaps in slight exaggeration but you felt like you were allowed. You were fine with people having sex and having fun but you really didn’t want to have to hear about it over your breakfast. They could have at least let you rub the sleep from your eyes first.

He had scoffed at you at the time and now he had set this up seemingly just to rub you up the wrong way. As opposed to the right ways he was rubbing his partners.

He tried to push the thought down that this had been solely planned because of you. With you in mind. To get a reaction from you. Because that would start him questioning his intentions. His actions. How you made him so angry it was now near obsessive.

So, it appeared they had finally agreed on the logistics of it. And were now giving you a live audio performance. On some random Thursday afternoon just as you had settled down to study.

You swore they were doing it on purpose. Being as loud as possible just to get a rise out of you.

You pounded on the door. You could smell sex from where you were stood out on the landing. He opened the door and stale cigarette smoke appeared to pour out of the room with him. He had opened the door almost immediately. As if he had been waiting.

“Spike!”

“Problem, pet?”

“I don’t care that you’re having sex, the walls are just so thin – I have an exam coming up can you just be quiet? Or go to one of your, uh, friends’ houses…”

“Mm, someone’s jealous”

“I’m not-”

“Just ‘cause you’re not bloody gettin’ any” He prodded before he thought about it a moment, changing tac, “Oh no. I know what this is… You want me, you need me…” He teased, knowing it would make you flustered.

“I just- I just want to-”

“If you wanted a taste all you had to do was ask” He smirked, moving his hips slightly and moving his head smugly along with his words. Drawing your attention to his naked form. The people in his bed were calling him back and you were just staring at each other. All he was wearing was a single silver chain around his neck. He was attractive, you couldn’t deny this and he knew it too.

You were both furious at each other. Silently trying to gain the upper hand.

“You’re a pig, Spike!” You suddenly screamed, stepping towards him angrily. Which made him smile and just close the door in your face. That was what he had wanted. To get such a big emotional response from you.

You were so angry you threw one of your precious book at his now slammed shut door. He winced at the name you had used, one often used against him by people like Buffy. She even managed to get to him in his own home. You angered him. You angered him.

But he turned back and the noises started up again and you knew for sure that they were doing it on purpose now. It was getting louder and louder. He couldn’t be that fucking good, you were sure of it.

You ran into your room and rummaged through the stack of CDs you had brought with you, selecting the perfect accompaniment. The soundtrack from your favourite musical. You turned the volume up fully and let the entire score play out.

You never wanted to see his stupid smug face again.

#UC sunnyhell #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #btvs #btvs x reader #btvs imagine #btvs x you #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #gender neutral #gn #college au

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years

Text

awkward ~ harry styles

word count: 1911

request?: no

description: after taking a role in a movie that she regrets, she has an awkward encounter with the inspiration for the movie’s source material

pairing: harry styles x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

(fair warning, there’s some slight trash talking of after. i really don’t like that movie or the books so if you do...maybe skip this imagine)

“And here we have (Y/F/N), star of the new teen romance After!” the interviewer happily announced into the camera.

I tried not to visibly cringed as I waved at the cameraman.

When you’re an actress, there’s this unspoken rule that you shouldn’t regret the movie that will launch your career. And, in some aspects, I didn’t regret After. I made new friends thanks to filming that movie, and, even before the first trailer launched, I was becoming a household name.

However, there was some things I regretted about After...like the decision to star in it.

I took the role of Tessa before I even really knew what the movie was about. I decided to do some research by reading the books, only to become absolutely appalled by them. The relationship between Tessa and Hardin was absolutely toxic, and the books only plot was basically sex. The entire trilogy! It was like reading Fifty Shades of Grey for teenagers. At that point, however, it was too late. I was already signed on to do the movie and I couldn’t back out.

Now, I was locked into trying to talk good about the movie until it was announced that I had backed out for the upcoming two sequels, something that wouldn’t happen until months after the movie’s release I was sure.

I was on the red carpet for an award show and I had already given at least four interviews about the movie. I was starting to get tired of it. Was this how Robert Pattinson felt trying to promote Twilight? That poor man.

“Were you aware of the source material before you took the role?” the interviewer asked me.

I shook my head, giving her the response I had basically memorized at this point. “I wasn’t, actually. It wasn’t until I got the script and it said it was based off of a book by Anna Todd, and I knew I had to go read the books.

“What were your thoughts when you read the novels?”

I thought it was an awful relationships and sex for teens. "It was interesting. The first movie isn’t a super close adaptation to the first book, but I think fans of the original will still like it.”

“Were you aware it was a fanfiction before a book?”

I tried not to sign in annoyance at yet another familiar question. “I found out shortly after reading the books actually. That’s pretty fascinating!”

“I don’t know if you knew this, but Harry Styles is actually here tonight. Do you hope to meet him?”

I felt slight panic swell in me. I wanted to say absolutely not! I didn’t want to have to face Harry after what I had been a part of. He couldn’t have liked the fanfic, it was awful! He probably hated that this movie was being made, not that he could really do much about it considering Anna Todd changed all the names in the book so it could be published.

I tried not to let me panic show as I responded, “As a long time One Direction fan, I would love to meet him if given the chance.”

I managed to get away from the interviewer before she asked anymore questions. I felt like I had to be on high alert now. The last thing I wanted was to run into Harry, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t want to run into me, either. Unless he didn’t know I was here, in which case that would make running into him even more awkward.

I managed to bypass any last interviews and get into the venue. Among the crowded room of people, I searched to see the one familiar face I was looking for. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see him and went on to mingle some of the other attendees.

We were only 30 minutes to show time when I heard the familiar deep voice that I had been dreading all night. “Hello.”

I turned away from the conversation I was having to see none other than Harry Styles stood behind me. I felt my face heat up in embarrassment and I just wanted to melt into the floor. Did he come looking for me? What was he going to say to me?

“H-Hi,” I stuttered, causing Harry to smile.

“You must be (Y/N), it’s nice to meet you,” he said, extending a hand to me.

I tried to remain cool as I shook his hand. “I am, yeah. It’s nice to meet you, too, I’m a big fan.”

“So I’ve heard. An interviewer out there told me that she had been talking to you just before she talked to me.”

I could only imagine what an interviewer had said to Harry. Some of the interviewers on red carpets were vultures, they just liked to stir up drama for the sake of clickbait.

“Is that...all she said?” I asked, afraid of what else might’ve been said to him.

Harry shrugged. “She just talked about the movie some. I avoided those questions.”

I couldn’t stop the groan that erupted from my throat at this sound. “I am so sorry, I hope you know how much I regret filming that movie.”

Harry tilted his head. “Why do you regret it? They’re already saying it’s going to be the next big teen romance phenomena.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Too bad I won’t see it grow after the first movie.” I mentally scolded myself for spilling the beans already as Harry gave me a confused look. “I didn’t sign on for the second movie, or the third or however many they’re gonna make in the future. The first After is the end for me, that’s it.”

“Why would you do that? This is an easy three movie deal, wouldn’t most people kill for that?”

I shook my head. “I can’t believe you’re so concerned over this. I thought you’d hate the whole franchise considering it’s based on a really shitty fanfiction about you.”

To this, Harry chuckled. “Well, I don’t exactly like the After franchise. I’m definitely not looking forward to more people becoming aware of it due to the movies, but I also know what it’s like to try and break into the fame scene. It’s hard, you should always grasp what you need to in order to get to where you wanna go, you know?”

I smiled at this. “I guess you have a point. I’m just glad you don’t absolutely hate me for starring in the movie.”

“How could I hate you? I haven’t even properly met you yet, and so far, you’re too nice to hate.”

I felt blush creeping up my neck at this. I looked away from him, but couldn’t contain the smile on my face.

Harry and I talked for another while until we were being ushered to our seats. I hated to have to break away from him, but I had a feeling I’d see him after the show again.

The award show felt like it dragged on forever. I wasn’t nominated for anything, After hadn’t even come out yet, and I wasn’t presenting anything. I was just there to give interviews on the red carpet and to be just another face in the crowd. The performances were good, and the host of the show was hilarious, but I couldn’t help but wish it would just end already.

When it finally came to an end, I found myself waiting outside the arena for my Uber ride home. I was watching in confusion as my driver went in the exact opposite direction. Weren’t they supposed to have the GPS on their phone working? Where the hell was he going?

A car pulled up in front of me and the passenger side window rolled down. Harry’s smiling face beamed at me from inside the car as he asked, “Need a lift?”

I looked down at my phone, seeing how far away my Uber was yet again, before cancelling it all together and climbing into the front seat.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” I responded. “Uber sucks.”

“You didn’t get a ride to the show with anyone?”

I shook my head. “My manager sent for this fancy car to take me, so that I looked good in front of the cameras and such, but didn’t arrange a ride home for me.”

“That’s shitty.”

I shrugged. “That’s show biz, kid.”

Harry smiled and chuckled at this, and I felt a warm feeling in my stomach. Not a bad one, quite the opposite really.

The drive was silent for the most part, just some quiet music playing. I watched out the window as Harry drove, unsure of what to really say or do in this moment.

“You like the show?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I shook my head. “Not at all. I thought it was quite boring since I had nothing to do besides talk up the movie I hate to the press.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, that’s understandable. Award shows are more fun when you’re not just sitting in your chair for like two and a half hours watching other celebrities get awards for things.”

“You did good, though,” I told him. “Your performance was amazing, you had the whole audience on their feet.”

He tried to contain it, but I could see the proud smile on his face. “That’s what I try to do with my music - something you can dance to and feel something when you’re listening to.”

“You definitely do both.”

God, small talk is so awkward. Why can’t you come up with anything else to say?

“I’m not good at this,” I admitted.

Harry glanced over at me for a moment. “Not good at what?”

“Talking to famous people,” I responded. “Well, super famous people I guess. I chatted with some people tonight who were more on my level of fame, but you’re like...you have your own level. Doesn’t help that I had a crush on you during my One Direction days.”

Harry’s low chuckle confirmed that I had indeed said that last part out loud. I face palmed so hard, the sound of my hand hitting my skin was actually audible, which caused Harry to laugh more.

“I’m such a mess,” I groaned. “Just dump me on the side of the road, it’s my time to go.”

“If I did that, I wouldn’t get to see you again.”

I looked over at him. “You wanna see me again?”

“Only if you’d like to spend more time with me.”

My smile was so wide that my cheeks were actually hurting, but I could’ve cared less. He was actually asking me to hang out and spend time with him? Yes please!

“I’d like that a lot,” I told him.

I was slightly disappointed when we pulled into my driveway, but it wasn’t enough to rid myself of the excitement I was feeling. Harry and I exchanged numbers before I got out of the car and smiled at him one last time.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. I was too shocked to say anything else, so I just nodded before making my way to the front door of my apartment.

When the door closed behind me, I exclaimed with excitement and jumped around like a child on Christmas morning. Who knew that the movie I so despised would bring me some good, and not just with my career?

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry potter imagine #harry styles x reader #imagine #one shot

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krreader · 4 years

Text

SEVENTEEN scenario → seeing a foreign reader and being smitten with her.

pairing: seventeen x reader fandom: seventeen warnings: / genre: fluff word count: 1.7k+

a/n: one of the requests that has been sitting in my inbox for a long time, I’m very sorry it took this long, but I hope you like it, my love!

choi seungcheol

As their leader, this wasn't just amazing for him to be here, but to experience his band member's reaction to it.

Billboard Music Awards.

They really did that.

Seungcheol looked around with the biggest smile on his face, when he spotted you. You were on the red carpet, but you weren't a performer. It seemed more like you were one of the staff members working.

Still, Seungcheol continued staring until you finally noticed.

You smiled, brightly so, but he was super embarrassed and looked away, but only for a small moment.

He knew that he couldn't approach you, not here, not when all eyes were on him and his members. But he hoped he had the chance to talk to you later in the evening... when it was, hopefully, only you and him at some point.

yoon jeonghan

Korea was freaking cold right now and he wasn't into that.

He'd much rather be inside, under a blanket and with a bunch of candles burning, than in this freezing cold, waiting for the shoot to finally be over.

But then an angel came.

Quite literally – for him at least.

“Here,” you handed him a steaming hot tea, “You look like you need it.”

From the looks of your uniform, you seemed to be from the nearby café. He had heard that it was a foreign café, but he hadn't thought that foreigners were working in there, since it was usually always Koreans working in these places. Not that it mattered much to him. He still stared at you like an idiot, not grabbing the tea because he was too busy studying your features.

You smiled, but weren't sure what to do.

Thankfully, Joshua saw the situation before it could get even more awkward and grabbed the tea out of your hand with a: “He appreciates it, thank you very much.”

And even when you left, Jeonghan still stared after you.

“Hyung has a crush,” Joshua quickly started teasing.

joshua hong

It was only a two-week break, but Joshua still decided to fly back to L.A. to visit some family and friends.

However, his plans got completely turned upside down when he met you the second day that he was back in L.A.

“Did you guys get a new neighbor?” he asked his cousin as he stared at you getting the groceries out of your car.

“Ah, yeah. Her name's (Y/N). She's super cool, man. You should go and say hi!”

“I don't think that's a good..-” but you already caught him staring and there was no going back anymore. You started smiling and straightened your back, before saying: “Hey, do you guys mind helping me move this inside the house? It's a little heavy.”

But before Joshua could say anything, his cousin already started shoving him towards you with a grin, “My cousin would love to help you.”

wen junhui

Los Angeles truly was the city of angels. That's what he thought when he found you standing next to him, waiting to cross the road with him.

You noticed right away, smiled instantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” he smiled back at you, but that's about all he could do.

Maybe you thought that he'd say something else, but he didn't. All he could do was stare. And no, this had nothing to do with the language barrier, this was simply because he was too busy staring and his brain didn’t work properly anymore at that moment.

At first, you were disappointed, especially after the lights turned green and you crossed the road, but when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder, you smiled once again.

“I'm... Junhui. And... you?”

kwon soonyoung

This was their last night here, they'd be flying back tomorrow morning.

And of course, this had to be the night where he found someone that he'd love nothing more than to talk to.

Your friend that you were at dinner with had noticed him staring, whispered something into your ear and then got up, walking straight towards Soonyoung.

“She's interested too,” is what she whispered to him before leaving.

And when Soonyoung looked back at you, you were smiling at him.

It might have only been one night, but it was.. one of the best nights he's ever had, hands down.

jeon wonwoo

At first, Wonwoo hadn't even seen you. He was busy paying for his Americano, but when he heard someone speak English next to him, he instantly raised his head, just out of curiosity.

And boy, did he not regret that decision.

You were downright beautiful, glowing, almost. You seemed happy, conversed with the lady at the counter with ease, despite the language barrier between you two.

And when you noticed and smiled back at him, it was completely over for him.

“Uhm.. excuse me?” the lady holding out his cash asked for the third time, after he hadn't heard the first two times, because he was too busy staring into your eyes.

He blushed like crazy.

But you thought it was really endearing. That is actually why you ran after him and were courageous enough to ask him for his number.

lee jihoon

This was... an unusual sight, to say the least.

Jihoon was pretty sure that he knew every single staff member in this company by now, but he definitely would have seen you around before. You had to be new.

“Who is she?” he asked his manager as they were waiting for the elevator to come.

“Ah, that's (Y/N). She's from (Y/H/C). One of the higher-ups thought she'd be a good addition.”

“Who.. who is she going to work with?” he was still staring and when you noticed and smiled, walking towards him, he started to panic a little, “Manager? Who.. who is she going to work with?”

But when he turned around, the manager was already gone and when he was face to face with you, you said: “Hi! You must be Jihoon? I heard you and I are going to be working together from now on!” well, he got his answer.

lee seokmin

Seokmin was standing outside of a café, waiting for the rest of his members to come out, when he noticed this really cute bookstore right next to it.

Originally, he only wanted to check out the books, but then was way more fascinated with who he found standing inside the shop.

He was staring, not even trying to hide it and even when you noticed, he didn't stop, merely smiled like you did.

“Should we.. tell him we're done?” one of the others asked when they got out and saw him having this... connection.

“No, he'll be fine. Let him enjoy this.”

kim mingyu

Mingyu was confident in himself when it came down to looks, if he wanted to, he could probably sweep any lady off her feet in a matter of seconds.

However, no matter how good looking he was, his English skills were lacking and whereas he would have approached you within a minute if you were in Korea, he now just stared at you with an open mouth, too afraid to talk to you because he wouldn't be able to express what he wanted to say to you.

But maybe that was okay.

Because when you noticed him staring, you smiled. Not shyly, but almost in a welcoming matter. That smile gave him the confidence that he needed to walk over to you after all and even though it wasn't easy, he still managed to have a conversation with you and, even better, score a date with you later tonight.

xu minghao

You might think that doing something like this on tour was boring, but during a stressful time such as this one, this relaxed Minghao the most.

Just sitting in a café, watching people, and reading a book. Especially when it was a foreign café as small as this one, when he was sure that nobody would notice or care about him. He could just be himself.

“Excuse me? Here's your order,” you placed it on the table in front of him, but hesitated when Minghao continued staring at you. You smiled a little, though unsure, “Is.. everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he shook his head, then started laughing about himself, “Thank you.”

Oh, he was in deep shit.

“Everything is great, actually,” he added with a happy smile.

boo seungkwan

Originally, Seungkwan had planned on watching all the drama episodes that he had previously downloaded onto his phone, but then you ended up sitting next to him on the plane and there was nothing else he could focus on except for you.

And, honestly, it was a little creepy, to say the least. Because he wasn't even trying to pretend like he wasn't staring.

In the end, you turned your head and smiled a little, “Excuse me, but can I... help you?”

“Oh, sorry!” he quickly said, “You're pretty,” but when he smiled so endearingly, all you could do was giggle.

And that is how the conversation began.

hansol vernon choi

Vernon was downright amazed by you.

They were having this really cool shoot at the beach today and you and a couple of friends were playing Volleyball at a nearby net.

It wasn't even that you were really good at it – and if you were, he just couldn't focus on that, because he was busier noticing other things – but your energy made him want to get up and play with you.

One of your friends must have noticed, because she whispered something in your ear and a moment later you turned around and stared right back.

He thought about quickly turning around and pretending like he hadn't just stared at you for about ten minutes, but was glad that he didn't when you started waving him over.

In the end, him and a few of his band members ended up joining you guys for a match during their break and he ended up with more than just your name.

lee chan

Seungkwan and him were out for dinner, just the two of them after a busy and stressful day.

And it was nice, you know? He got good food, had a little bit to drink... it was just.. nice.

And then it became even better when two girls sat down at the table next to them, one of them being you, and Chan nearly spit out his drink because he really hadn't expected to see someone this pretty tonight and definitely not a foreigner in this traditional restaurant in the depths of Seoul.

You instantly started giggling, even more so when Chan quickly wiped his mouth and then continued smiling.

And so what started out as a dinner for two, ended up with the four of you having an incredibly fun night together, laughing, eating and drinking.

And... a bit more for you and Chan.

#seventeen imagine #seventeen reaction #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #seventeen #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop reaction #reader #requests

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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years

Text

As Far As Friends Go

Chapter 8 (Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7)

Nixon - March 1944

The new year saw no improvement to Emily and Nixon’s relationship despite his fumbled attempts at reconciliation. Nixon felt that he went out of his way to make small talk with her, to be friendly (especially in the mornings) and to be enthusiastic about her work. Emily was outwardly friendly, to an appropriate degree, but Nixon could sense the barrier she had put up between them. When they had first met, she had been so open and warm, bordering on desperate for his friendship. Now, she made polite small talk and performed her tasks with a new rigid professionalism. Nixon couldn’t help but feel that this behavior was exclusive to him. He saw how she interacted with the men in the pub, in the mess, and on the rifle range; she didn’t seem to have a problem with any of them.

On more than one occasion Nixon found himself complaining to Winters about Emily’s insufferable behavior.

“Didn’t you find her attitude obnoxious before?” Winters asked.

“Yes, but I got used to that. Now she’s changed it up on me again! It's annoying is what it is,” Nixon said.

Winters dipped a spoon into a bowl of soup and brought it to his mouth, patiently waiting for Nixon to continue, “its the unpredictability, the mood swings! Women.” Nixon scoffed.

“Well,” Winters ate another spoonful of soup, “you were a jerk.”

Nixon’s brow furrowed, “not enough of a jerk for her to give me the cold shoulder for three months.”

“Has it been three months?”

Nixon didn’t answer. “You two still talk, I’ve seen you,” Winters said, “maybe she’s focusing on her work. It has gotten busier.”

“Yeah we talk, but not like before. And she seems to have plenty of time to talk to Harry or George Luz.”

Winters’ mouth crooked into a small, thoughtful smile, “why do you think it bothers you so much, Nix?”

Nixon caught his friends smirk, “Oh no,” he shook his head, “its not like that at all. She’s a kid. Besides, I’m invested elsewhere in this boring town."

Winters cocked an eyebrow, “so this really is just about friendship?”

“Friendship, friendliness - I just want things to go back to normal!”

Winters nodded and turned his attention back to his soup, “maybe this is the new normal.”

Nixon was running out of patience and hope. As March crept along he decided that he would simply have to come to terms with the impersonal working relationship that Winters called the new normal.

“Morning,” Nixon entered the intelligence HQ room with a manila folder already in hand. He was flipping through the aerial photos inside.

“Good morning, sir,” Emily said, barely looking up from her typewriter.

“We received some aerial photos this morning. Here look at this,” Nixon said, stretching out a black and white print to Emily.

She took it, “what’s this of?”

“Undisclosed,” Nixon said, “but we’ll be getting a lot more. Our office needs to piece the photos together and start building sand tables of the geography.”

Emily blew air out of her cheeks, “Wow, so this might be..”

“Yeah,” Nixon caught her gaze, “this might be it.”

“Okay, yeah we’ll get started on this.”

“Great.” Nixon shut the manila folder firmly and threw it on Emily’s desk. “Let me know what you need.”

  “Will do, sir.”

Nixon waited until his back was turned to roll his eyes. He hated it when she called him sir. No one else would hear it, but he could hear the contempt in her voice. She wasn’t saying sir out of respect. He knew that she was doing it purposely to annoy him. Sure, he couldn’t prove it, but he knew it.

Nixon dropped into his desk chair just as Vest entered the room with uncharacteristic hesitance.

“Uh, Miss Rooney?” Nixon’s dark eyes flicked over to Emily. An unexplainable feeling of dread grew in his stomach. It grew stronger as he saw Emily’s face change. She was sensing the difference in Vest’s energy just as he had. Vest made his way over to her desk with a letter in hand.

“A letter for you,” Vest cleared his throat, “from the war department.”

Nixon sat straighter in his chair as Vest made his awkward retreat from the room. Emily ripped the edge of the envelope with trembling hands and slowly pulled the typed letter from its folds.

Nixon watched her eyes run across the ink-black lines. His heart beat in his ears in anticipation for her reaction. Finally, Emily let out a shuddering breath and the letter dropped from her hands. Fat tears began rolling down her cheeks. She pressed a hand to her mouth in an attempt to squash her sobs, her body folding in on itself as if to guard her from the world around her. Jolted into action, Nixon stood abruptly from his chair and was beside her in two strides. He positioned his body on the edge of her desk, blocking her from the curious looks from the other intelligence staff.

“What happened?” he asked in a low voice.

Emily shut her eyes tightly against the tears, she shook her head indicating her inability to speak. Instead, she held up the letter. Nixon took it and read,

Dear Miss Rooney,

The following information is provided in regards to your fiancee, Corporal John Elliott. Your fiancee sustained significant wounds of the left leg and arm and on 11 March, 1944 was reported as being in a naval hospital in London, England for further treatment. You may be sure that he is….

Nixon stopped reading as confused relief softened the knot in his stomach.   “Wounded, wounded in action,” he said.

Emily nodded. She ran her finger tips under her eyes. Her cheeks were sopping wet with tears, her eyelashes heavy with salt.

“Here,” Nixon handed her the handkerchief from his pocket. “It’s clean. Well, cleanish.”

Emily accepted it and swallowed hard, doing her best to compose herself. She patted her cheeks dry with the fold of the linen cloth.

“You okay?” Nixon placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. This was their first physical interaction in months, but neither of them seemed to think anything of it. It was such a natural action considering the circumstances.

“Yeah,” she gulped, “I’m alright.” Emily exhaled, “it took me by surprise is all.”

  “Naturally,” Nixon rubbed her back.

“I don’t know why I’m such a mess,” Emily’s voice cracked with emotion.

“You don’t need to excuse your reaction,” Nixon murmured, “this is big, scary news.”

  “I thought- I just thought that it was going to say he was dead.”

“I know, I thought so too.”

“Lew, I - I was,” she hesitated.

“What?” he encouraged her.

“Never mind,” she screwed her face up as if thinking against what she was about to say. Her lips were swollen from crying, her lipstick slightly smudged from the press of her hand. “If he’s wounded I have to see if I can visit him.”

Nixon nodded, “absolutely.”  

“Do you think we could find out where he’s at?”

Nixon grimaced with uncertainty, “uhm, I mean it’s not our branch. But I’ll see what I can do.” Nixon was conflicted; this seemed awful personal for him to get involved with. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to get involved with Emily’s business considering how things had been between them lately. Then again, this could be his chance to make amends, to show her that he meant well by her.

“Lewis, thank you!” her voice was full of gratitude and looking down at her red rimmed gray eyes, Nixon prayed he would be able to find the hospital easily.

A few days later Nixon interrupted Emily at lunch, which she was once again spending with Welsh.

“I found him,” Nixon announced. He expected Emily look more excited.

“Oh thank you, Nix! Where is he?” Emily asked.

Okay, back to some version of a nickname, Nixon observed. That was a good sign. “Worcestershire.”

“Who’s this?” Welsh looked between Emily and Nixon.

“Worcestershire? I thought he was in London?”

“He was. He was originally with an evacuation hospital but has since been moved to a convalescent hospital in Worcestershire.”

“Ah, okay,” Emily said.

“That’s a good thing,” Nixon said, “he’s on the mend! And Worcestershire is only north of here.”

“Who’s this we’re talking about?” Welsh asked again, this directed just at Emily.  

“Right, I guess I should go up this weekend,” Emily spoke more to herself than the men. “I guess I’ll have to make sure…” she trailed off lost in thought.

“You’ve got my permission. That’s all you need,” Nixon said.

Welsh opened his mouth again but didn’t have the chance to speak before Nixon interjected, “her fiancee Harry, we’re talking about her wounded fiancee.”

“Ah,” Harry looked down at his plate suddenly uninterested in the conversation.

“Get the train Saturday morning and plan to be back by Sunday night, okay?” Nixon rapped his knuckles on the wooden dining table. “Okay, I’ll see you both later,” and he walked off without Emily’s confirmation.

The Friday before she was set to leave Emily was a ball of nerves. She was constantly tapping her foot, or getting up to walk around aimlessly. Her restlessness was grating on Nixon’s nerves, which was the last thing he needed with the headache he was nursing.

“Would you relax?” he finally snapped.

“Sorry, sorry,” Emily stilled her foot. But then only a few minutes later her fingers began drumming against her desk. The rigid tension between them had relaxed slightly since the letter had come but Nixon still felt like he was walking on eggshells. He was worried about being too harsh with her or of saying anything insensitive. The last couple of days he had been careful to be extra kind to her. The stress of seeing her fiancee again for the first time in at least a year, and knowing that he would be both physically and mentally different than he had been, was a lot to carry. Nixon knew this. He had taken it upon himself to offset her edginess but boy was he finding that particularly difficult at that moment.

“What’re you gonna be like when we get to the continent huh?” Nixon demanded, “that’s gonna be stressful too, are you gonna be able to handle it?” So much for not being too harsh or insensitive.

Emily scowled at him from her desk, “leave me alone, Nixon. I’ll be fine when we get to the continent. Will you? Gunfire isn’t great for a hangover.”

Nixon narrowed his eyes at her but didn’t say anything more. Finally, they made it to dinner and she excused herself early due to her early departure in the morning. A peculiar sensation came over him as he watched her leave. Seeing her walk away in her woolen skirt with pieces of her dark, red-brown hair flying away from where they were pinned down felt like some sort of goodbye. An anxiety that she was leaving to join her fiancee never to come back tickled at the back of his mind. Beside him, Harry Welsh was looking after her in just the same way. Nixon couldn’t help but wonder what that meant for both of them.

Nixon didn’t have plans for the weekend. He had a loose arrangement with a beautiful young local woman but didn’t feel particularly motivated to call after her that Saturday. His mind was with Emily, worrying if she had made it to the hospital safely. He squandered the day away in bed, then the pub and during a brief window of sunshine, walking around the outskirts of town.

England was beginning to defrost into Spring. When Nixon looked out at the rolling hills of Wiltshire, he could almost pretend he wasn’t there because of a war. He might have been there to study, or to visit family friends. There was a peacefulness in the open plains that surrounded the town of Aldbourne. Every stone, field, and building held a storied past that seemed to look past the impending events as if to say I have been here before and I will be here after.

Later that night Nixon excused himself from a game of poker for a cigarette outside. It was chilly out, but he was grateful for the fresh air while it wasn’t raining. He was stood just in front of the steps leading ups to the HQ building when he spotted a figure making its way up the driveway, suitcase in hand. It was a woman’s figure and Nixon’s first thought was another nurse was coming to join the ranks. But it was such a late hour for a new member of staff to check in. As the figure grew closer he recognized her.

“Emily?” he asked in confusion. Her features became clearer as she stepped into the dim light coming from the building. There was a bizarre expression on her face. Nixon didn’t know what to think of her. “Emily?” he repeated, “what’re you doing back?”

She didn’t smile, but her countenance was calm, serene even. Her eyes were wide and bright despite the limited light. She parted her red lips and with the intonation of surprise said, “I’m free, Lew.”

#band of brothers #fanfiction #original character #as far as friends go #lewis nixon #lewis nixon x oc #harry welsh x oc #george luz x oc #dick winters #harry welsh #george luz #hbo band of brothers

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agentark88 · 2 years

Text

Think: Chapter Seventy-Five: A Hero’s Recipe for Disaster

My Hero Academia Fan Fiction by Agent ARK 88

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction using characters and settings from My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia created by Kohei Horikoshi. I do not claim any ownership of characters present in this piece that are owned and created by Kohei Horikoshi. I do not own My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia.

Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Warnings: This work contains mild language.

Please be aware this piece is in second person perspective, following my original character, Think, Anna Kokoro, who is a transfer student from America. Thank you for reading.

Chapter Seventy-Five: A Hero’s Recipe for Disaster

You stared down at your recipe notes with intense focus. You couldn’t believe how hard it was for you to decide what to make for the School Festival performance. It had been a couple of days of preparations already, and you were on the testing phase of cookie creation. Eri had visited the grounds too, and the pressure to make something she would love was weighing on you. You were thankful that she had recovered to the point that she could leave the hospital and come to U.A.. You jumped when you heard Shoto clear his throat behind you.

“You scared me,” you said, chuckling. “I guess I was too focused on trying to get this right.” You turned back toward your notebook and pouted when you saw that you’d accidently drawn a line across the page.

“My apologies,” Shoto said. “I wanted to check in on you.”

“Ah,” you mumbled. “You really don’t have to. I’m used to working alone.”

Shoto hummed in thought, gazing at you in silence for a moment. “Kirishima and I will be working on our special effects part of the School Festival performance, so I can’t lend a hand for some time; however, Sero has already expressed that he’s bored to tears. I will retrieve him.”

“Huh?” you asked, looking back up at him, but Shoto had already left the room. You let out a heavy sigh. You told him that you’d be fine working alone, and you had meant it. You really didn’t mind. You were used to it.

You shifted some of your test ingredients around, considering different cookie combinations. You’d never been so stuck in your life. Were you nervous because you wanted to make sure that Eri liked them, or was it that you wanted to make sure they were perfect to not embarrass your classmates? You were pretty much on your own for the entire week leading up to the performance because Sato needed to practice his choreography, which proved more daunting than he expected. You were probably nervous making so many baked goods on your own.

“Did someone request the company of a charismatic side character?” Sero asked jokingly as he sauntered into the common area kitchen.

You blinked at him in surprise. “Shoto said that he was going to bring you here, but I already told him that I was fine. I’ve worked independently very often in the past and…” you trailed off, realizing what exactly you were saying. Since coming to U.A., you were rarely alone. You’d gotten so used to working by yourself in the past that it hadn’t used to bother you. Maybe, you were struggling to come up with ideas because that had changed. It felt nice having someone, anyone, around to talk to.

“Girls always say that they’re fine when they’re the exact opposite,” Sero said, giving you a toothy grin. He tied back his straight black hair into a ponytail. “Show me how I can help. I haven’t been doing much of anything for the Special Effects Crew yet, so it’s been a total drag. We’ve pretty much settled on who is needed where. There are only some logistics and props to construct. My quirk is more useful on the day of the performance anyway. Plus, if I hang out with you, I get to test out some sweets.” He settled beside you, scanning over your notes.

You hesitated to push the recipe closer to him. He towered over you, much like his other friends, but he was much more slender. You pushed your notes out in front of him, tugging at your braid. You didn’t know Sero very well. All you knew was that he was part of the self-proclaimed Bakusquad. He seemed nice enough, less serious than Bakugo but definitely more grounded than Denki.

“You seem nervous,” Sero stated. “You don’t have to be. I know we don’t know each other very well, but I’m not a bad guy. Promise I won’t hit on you either.” He kept his eyes moving across your curvy handwriting, seemingly unperturbed by bringing something up like that so bluntly.

“H-hit on me?” you asked, blushing. “Why would I think you would do that?”

Sero shrugged. “The other boys in the Bakusquad do. I even think Mina has a little crush on you too. I just wasn’t sure if that’s why you seemed so nervous around me. It’s not that you’re not my type or anything so don’t get offended. It just feels like I would be breaking the bro code if I made a move on you. I’m more of a gentlemen than that. Besides, I’d rather you be a good friend of mine, considering you’re so close to the rest of the Bakusquad.” He turned the page of your notebook.

“I-I wasn’t thinking that, but I’m glad to hear you want to be friends.” You gulped. Sero was a lot more forward than you expected. It seemed like he often said what was on his mind. “I was kind of nervous because I didn’t really know you that well.” You rubbed the back of your neck bashfully. “It seems kind of silly to be nervous about that now that I say it out loud.”

Sero chuckled. “It’s not silly at all. The Bakusquad is all over the place with their personalities. Now that I know you were just trying to figure me out, I get it.” He grinned at you. “I’m pretty relaxed, so don’t worry about being so uptight around me.”

“I, um, don’t think I do the uptight part on purpose.”

He snorted out another genuine laugh. “Really? Well, I’ll have to help you with that. Mellowing out is like my specialty. Stress isn’t good for the skin either.”

“You do seem rather chill. Maybe if we hang out more, it will rub off on me.”

“Undoubtedly,” Sero said. His eyes widened when he focused back on your notebook. Sero pointed out a line in your recipe. “Are you really going to cut that many apples?” he asked.

“Ah, I was thinking about how I could cut down the time but have been pretty stuck just bouncing ideas around in my own head.”

“You could use applesauce,” Sero suggested.

Your eyes widened. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It would be a much more efficient alternative. Plus, you could add some real apples for texture. “That’s actually a really good idea. Thank you.”

“Hey, there’s not just tape up in this noggin of mine. I have some great ideas, it’s just that Bakugo is always yelling so loud that no one hears them.”

“You should speak up more if you feel that way. Bakugo will listen. He doesn’t yell all of the time.”

“Not around you,” Sero corrected. “It’s only when you’re around that he’s nice.”

“Why does everyone say that?” you asked, opening a bag of flour.

“Because it’s true,” Sero said, giving you another cheeky smile. “Don’t tell him I said that, or he’ll blast me.” Sero continued flipping through the notebook of recipes. He would reach the end soon.

“There should be an extra apron hanging by the door,” you said, trying to change the subject from Bakugo. Your cheeks were flushed just thinking about him. It wasn’t like you didn’t like talking about Bakugo, but it would be nice to avoid discussing any of your romantic interests while you were hard at work baking. It would just be distracting.

Sero glanced near the door. “Thanks. I’ll get it in a minute.”

You slowly nodded, trying to account for the items you would need. You still hadn’t taken out the bowls or the measuring cups. Those were in the higher cabinets. You should be able to reach the bowls without your quirk, even with how short you were. Sero found the last page filled with recipes, and then he turned toward the door to grab the apron. You opened the cabinet behind you, staring up at the stack of bowls overhead. On tiptoe, you reached your hand out, nudging the biggest bowl with your fingertip.

“Do I grab the black one or the blue?” Sero asked from across the room.

“Either is—” You had turned your attention away for just a moment, and you cut yourself short as you heard the containers overhead shift. You covered your head on instinct, a mixture of plastic and metal bowls falling down on you. The raucous clatter of dishes against the floor filled the space. But, nothing actually hit you. You peeked one eye open.

Two strips of tape suspended the remaining bowls that would have struck you in the air. You let out a sigh of relief, looking toward Sero.

“Thank you,” you said, laughing nervously.

The normally chill Sero looked like he was sweating. His eyes were trained on the bowls over your head. “Could you step out from under the danger?” he asked.

You flushed. “Ah, yeah. Sorry about that.” You took a step back, using your quirk to unstick the remaining bowls and stack them properly again. You gently floated them toward the counter.

Sero retrieved the remnants of tape, finishing tying his apron and helping clean up the rest of the bowls. After a few moments, he chuckled. “I honestly thought Bakugo was exaggerating when he said you were clumsy.”

You froze, puffing out your cheeks. “I am not,” you said. You were. You knew that you were. You should have been able to catch those dishes too, but your knee-jerk reaction had been to cover your head. Your reflexes should have kicked in, and your quirk should have reacted. You were embarrassed to admit you were clumsy, and you were upset that Bakugo would mention it to his friends.

Sero shrugged, smiling lightheartedly again. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He put a hand to his chest. “But, it’s cool. Glad I came to help at least, so it wasn’t worse.”

“Sorry to mess with your mellow,” you said sincerely. “I can be a little uncoordinated,” you finally admitted. You rubbed your arm, frowning. “Sorry.”

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to get an apology out of you. I told you it’s cool.”

“I always seem to mess the simplest things up. To think that I’m even worrying Bakugo when I’m not around…” you trailed off. You looked at your reflection in a metal bowl. This was the place that you were the most comfortable, and, yet, you were still making mistakes.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Sero said. He put a hand on your shoulder. “No sad faces now. You don’t mess things up. Being clumsy isn’t the end of the world. If you think that I’ve never missed a place I meant for my tape, you’re wrong. I’ve taken a spill or two before too.”

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but it might be best if I do this on my own. At least if no one’s looking, I can’t embarrass myself.” You just haven’t been focused lately. After the raid, things had changed. Your mind was other places. You were hesitant with your quirk.

Sero blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. “Something tells me that this isn’t just about dropping a couple of bowls. Do you need to talk about it?” Sero leaned on the nearby island.

“N-no,” you stuttered out. You organized the clean bowls next to the ingredients.

Sero pushed himself up and off of the counter. “Okay,” he said. “But, I’m not leaving. Like I said before, I’ve got nothing better to do at the moment, and I’m looking forward to the leftover chocolate chips.”

You thought about his words carefully. “I guess I can’t deny you chocolate,” you muttered under your breath.

Sero slid next to you. “Nor can you deny me giving help to my friend,” he added. He nudged you with his elbow playfully. “Now, tell me how I can help.”

You and Sero had baked nearly ten different types of cookies by the time you were all done. Two of the recipes ended up being too soft and two others were too hard. The prototype recipes appeared to come down to a simple sugar cookie with royal icing, a dark chocolate cookie, and a caramel apple cookie. All three tasted amazing, but they would definitely take a little bit of prep time that you would need to shave down.

Sero had helped where he could. He was actually very capable in the kitchen. He implied that it was because of his mother’s culinary talents rubbing off on him. By now, he had two different half-used bags of chocolate chips he was snacking on. At some point, he’d turned his music on. Every once in a while, he’d move to the music, shutting his eyes and mouthing the lyrics. He must have listened to his playlist a lot because he knew every word to every song that came on.

You were just content to have Sero as company, despite what you’d said before. Nothing else embarrassing happened while he was there, and he had a lot of great ideas.

Kirishima poked his head into the kitchen, smiling brightly when he saw the two of you. “I knew I smelled something delicious!”

Sero protectively clutched the chocolate to his chest. “Sweets are for baking helpers only,” he said. “Careful Think, this guy’s a ravenous goblin when it comes to dessert.”

Kirishima pouted. “Bro, there are so many cookies in here. I can’t have one?” He gave you his signature-red-puppy-dog eyes, staring directly at you.

You took one of the chocolate cookies off of the drying rack. You couldn’t say no to Kirishima. There were definitely too many cookies to eat by yourselves too. Sero was more interested in his chocolate chips than the baked goods anyway. You crossed the room and handed him a cookie. Kirishima didn’t hesitate to chomp it down.

“We were just talking about more of our positions during the performance. We were considering using you to help Aoyama with being a disco ball,” Kirishima said with bits of cookie still in his mouth. “It would be kind of boring if he just stayed there in the air the whole time.”

You rubbed the back of your neck in worry. “I-I won’t actually be able to move anyone or anything while the lights are down. My quirk works a lot better when I can see. Actually, I’d prefer to be backstage during the performance.” You paused, mouth going dry. “I went through some stuff on the stage as a kid, and I don’t want to cause any issues.”

Kirishima gulped down the remainder of his cookie, exchanging a look with Sero. “Do you have stage fright?” he asked.

“Of sorts.” You turned away, starting to clean up again. That nightmarish memory started coming back like it had before. Your hands began trembling, and you tried your best to hide it by busying yourself with more tidying.

Sero put down one of the bags of chocolate chips. He removed his apron, nudging Kirishima with his elbow and handing it to him. “I think I should go catch up with the Special Effects Crew to see if I can be added into the plans. Thank you for the chocolate, Think. Let me know if I can help again.”

“Thank you, Sero,” you said. “I will.” You kept your head down, despite feeling guilty for not thanking him properly. You’d hoped baking was going to be enough of a distraction for you not to think of your past.

Kirishima walked up to you. He placed his hand atop yours. “You’ve been moving the same bowl for a couple of minutes, Princess. Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you squeaked out, cringing at the shrillness of your voice. “I-I just want to make sure I don’t ruin the performance.”

“Ruin the performance?”

“I…” you trailed off, biting into your lip. “I’ve just had bad experiences on the stage. It’s part of the reason I get anxious in large crowds. I wouldn’t want my quirk to go off without warning.”

“Don’t you think you can trust yourself more than that, Princess? You’ve been doing such a good job. You’ve gained so much control since being here.”

“I don’t want to take any chances, especially when Eri will be in the crowd. It will be a spectacular day for her. She hasn’t really gotten a chance to be a kid yet, and this festival will be like a crash course for a normal life for her. It would crush me if it were my fault things weren’t perfect.”

“Things will be perfect.”

You cracked a smile. “Thank you, Kirishima. But, I can still help with the live performance and stay out of sight of the crowd at the same time. It’s for the best.”

Kirishima gently squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure the team puts you where you’re most comfortable. If you ever change your mind, you can tell me, and I’ll work it out with the crew, okay? I believe in you, Princess. Whether you’re in front of the curtains or behind them, you’ll do great.”

“Oh, pardon me for interrupting an intimate moment,” Yaoyorozu said at the kitchen entryway.

You blushed furiously. “Ah, it’s not—”

“I was just helping Think with the cleanup. You’re not interrupting,” Kirishima said cheerfully.

“Oh, good. If you don’t mind, I was going to make tea for everyone. We’ve all been working so hard, I thought it would be a nice treat.”

“By all means, the kitchen is all yours. Once I’m done with cleaning, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“I assure you that the company won’t bother me. Actually, would either of you like some? I was trying to get a head count. It’s Gold Tips Imperial black tea. It’s quite a rare and delicate find.”

The tea Yaoyorozu was making was most likely worth more than any car you could afford in the future. As tempting as it sounded, you’d hate for such a fancy tea to be wasted on your commoner’s pallet. Tea was fine, but hot chocolate was more your speed.

“No, thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the offer though.” You glanced at the remaining cookies. “Do you suppose that our classmates would like cookies with their tea? I’d hate to throw these away.”

“You can’t throw them away!” Kirishima pouted, already scooping up several cookies.

“Not those ones. They didn’t turn out as good as the rest.”

Kirishima stacked more of the sweets into his hands. “More for me then. All of your baked goods taste delicious.”

“Kiri,” you pleaded, attempting to swipe the imperfect cookies from him.

He blushed in response to you calling him by his nickname, but he avoided your attempt to get the cookies. You used your quirk to grab a few off of the top, and Kirishima comically snatched them out of the air while balancing the remaining in his arms.

“You’re making a rather large mess,” Yaoyorozu said, not amused.

Kirishima sprang free from the kitchen, before you could catch him with the inferior baked goods.

“I’m sure some tea and cookies would be lovely by the way. A shame that Kirishima had to make more of a mess of things,” Yaoyorozu said.

“He can get overly excited about my baking, but he was just trying to help.” You shrugged, frowning when you saw the dusting of crumbs over the floor.

Yaoyorozu set the teapot on a burner, starting the water. You grabbed a dustpan and broom from the corner. As you were sweeping, Yaoyorozu cleared her throat. You glanced up at her.

“I hope you aren’t overworking yourself. I know Sato was supposed to aid you, but I can already see how much work this will be for you before the festival,” she said, rubbing her arm nervously. “If I need to procure you another partner while he’s wrapped up with learning the dance routine, I can speak to Iida.”

“It’s quite a lot to take on by myself, but you don’t need to worry. I can do it.”

“I wasn’t worried that you could not. I am worried that you will overexert yourself.”

So many people were concerned over your health. You would need to do a better job of hiding your troubles. You didn’t mean to bother anyone. The whole point of you baking was so that you weren’t the problem. “Please don’t worry. I can handle it. It’s not too much for me, and it’s the best thing that I can do for the performance itself.”

“Well, alright. You’re looking a bit pale, and your cheeks look a little too flush. Once you’re done in here, I ask that you please go take a break with the others. I believe Midoriya and Uraraka are already seated in the common area. Perhaps, you can take out a plate of your cookies to them.”

You put a hand to your forehead. You were a bit warm, but it was probably from being in a room with the oven on for so long. You tidied up the last of your equipment and stacked the edible cookies on a platter. Yaoyorozu waved you on, seeing that you were going to offer to help her. The concern in her expression let you know that she wouldn’t accept your aid.

You carried the heavy tray of cookies out into the common area. Midoriya was on his phone, and Uraraka was hovering over him. The two of them were focused on watching a video. Kirishima was shoving the remainder of the cookies he’d taken into his mouth. You had no idea where he was putting it all. No one could eat that many cookies in one sitting without getting sick, not even Fat Gum.

“Don’t you think that it’s strange that a villain would be so interested in tea?” Ochaco asked Midoriya.

“Villains and heroes alike have some kind of gimmick. N-not that that’s a bad thing. As he’s focused on being a gentlemen and has a more proper aesthetic. Gentle Criminal is most likely adhering to his brand. Still, it’s strange for a villain to boast about never missing a tea ritual before performing villainy,” Midoriya said.

“What are you two discussing?”

Midoriya jolted back a bit at hearing your voice. He smiled apologetically. “We’re talking about a Gentle Criminal video that I accidently clicked on. He’s talking about tea. I hate to say it, but it’s almost like villains are more prevalent on social media than heroes these days.”

You frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not,” Ochaco admitted. “But, heroes will eventually stop them, right? That’s what we’re training for anyway, to stop villainy.”

“Of course!” Midoriya announced in determination.

You became momentarily distracted. Gentle Criminal? Why did that name sound so familiar? Wasn’t that one of the villains that Emoticon had mentioned in one of her videos? You were pretty sure she even mocked him.

“Did you bring us treats?” Ochaco asked in excitement.

“Leftovers,” you said. “They’re not perfect, but I didn’t want them to go to waste. I thought they would go well with the tea.”

“Don’t let her fool you,” Kirishima said through another mouthful of crumbs. “Even the ones she said were not perfect are delicious.”

“Give me. Give me.” Ochaco made grabby hands toward the tray and swept them away from you.

You sat down next to Kirishima. Midoriya grabbed two cookies from the tray, focusing back on the video and muttering to himself. Concern was etched into his furrowed brows. You wondered what had been shown in that video to get him all worked up. Of course, you were all worried. With villains on the rise in media, it was hard to focus on the School Festival. Aizawa had already warned the class should another villain attack happen during the festivities it would all be shut down. Maybe, Midoriya was worried that Gentle Criminal would try to infiltrate U.A..

“If you keep making that face, you’re going to get worry wrinkles, Midoriya,” you said.

“W-what? I’m not making that bad of a face, am I?” he asked.

“Too late. I see a crease,” Ochaco teased, pointing to the upper part of his face.

“You do?” Midoriya asked in worry. He covered his forehead.

“You’ve got to chill out, bro. You of all people should understand how capable the Pro Heroes are. There’s nothing to worry about. They’ll catch all of those villains making a commotion. And, if by some tiny chance they don’t, we’ve got their backs.” Kirishima pointed a thumb at his chest.

Midoriya flushed red, finally turning his phone off. “Y-you’re right. I’ve just been on edge. I want to make sure the School Festival is great for Eri.”

“Dude, we’re going to be great!” Kirishima reassured.

Midoriya stared down at his darkened phone. You didn’t have to read his mind to know that he had some doubts about the festival going on without a hitch. You couldn’t blame him. Class 1-A had been through enough to know villains could appear anywhere at any time. It was a miracle that U.A. even agreed to continue with the School Festival, but they wanted to move on from the fear. U.A. wanted to prove to the public that it was a safe place for their students.

Midoriya tapped his red shoes together, his lips curved in a nervous line. “It’s just kind of bothering me that villains like Gentle Criminal have been posting videos of their crimes and still haven’t been caught yet.” Midoriya gripped his pants tightly. He quaked a bit and gulped. “Even if a false alarm goes off at the festival, they’ll shut it down. Can we really be sure with how bold villains have been acting that one won’t try to infiltrate campus?”

“No one can be absolutely certain of that,” you answered, snapping a cookie in half to check its density. “But, I trust Mr. Aizawa and the other teachers. I don’t think they would let them even get the chance.”

Midoriya bowed his head to hide his expression. “I’m sorry to sound so pessimistic—”

“Dude, we totally get it. You want things to run smoothly for our peers,” Kirishima cut him short.

“And, for Eri,” you added. “It’s okay to express your concerns, Midoriya. We know as well as everyone else how important that this festival is.”

“Thank you,” Deku muttered out. “I’m glad that I can talk to all of you about it.”

Ochaco ruffled his messy green locks, and he blushed furiously. She handed him another cookie. “No more worrying, Deku. You worked hard today, so you should relax a bit,” Uraraka said.

Midoriya took a small bite of the cookie, avoiding her gaze in embarrassment. You teasingly wiggled your eyebrows at Ochaco, and she puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. She fanned her newly reddening cheeks, making you laugh. She’d gotten a bit bolder around Midoriya, and you wondered if their relationship was growing. You’d have to interrogate her about it later and get her to spill the verbal tea.

You relaxed for a bit in the common area. A few other students came by, like Bakugo and Kaminari. But, they all eventually filtered out. Kirishima let you know that the Special Effects Crew was packing it in for the day, so you stayed on the common area couch.

You aimlessly flipped through your FlikFlok app, saving all of the cookie recipes to research later. You froze when you saw Kobura, your finger paused over the video. He looked terrified, absolutely afraid. He was stumbling back into chairs, cornered. You could barely recognize him, but there was no mistaking those eyes, that face, or his hair. Emiyo Miya appeared on the screen next.

“As you can see, this is a Class A commitment-phobe. But, no worries my Little Emojis, you know I don’t back down from a challenge.” Emiyo winked at the camera. “Some people just need help to see what’s right in front of them. I’ll be glad to get rid of all of his meaningless distractions if it means we can be in a happy relationship.” She giggled cutely, but you could hear the underlining threat in her voice. “After all, no one said that getting a villain happily ever after was easy.”

Glitches flitted across the screen of your phone. The video was promptly deleted, and the app was closed out.

A message pinged across the top of your screen. “I’m sorry,” it read. Your phone rang and vibrated in your hands. “Let me explain,” scrolled across the caller identification.

You leapt from the couch, racing in the direction of your bedroom. You nearly tackled Bakugo off of his feet when you ran around the corner. He growled at you, and you pulled back.

“What the hell, Big Brain? You’re going to get hurt racing around like that,” he snapped.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered out.

Bakugo scanned over your expression. “Why do you look like you saw a ghost?”

“Uh, I’m just t-tired.”

“Bullshit.”

Your phone rang again. If you didn’t answer, you might never get to. You wanted to know what that video was about. You had no idea how that could have happened to Kobura. He never looked like that, his expression was never so helpless looking. “I-I have to answer this!” You ran past Bakugo, barely evading his arm trying to keep you from going.

“Big Brain!” he shouted back at you.

You kept going, ignoring Bakugo’s angry yells. You couldn’t lie any more than you had to him. If he stopped you, you’d spill everything. That would only make things worse for you and Kobura. You knew what you had been doing was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself. Something told you that Kobura wasn’t completely bad. Bakugo would be able to see right through you if he got the chance. He wouldn’t understand what was going through your head to be talking to a villain.

You fumbled with your keys to open your dorm-room door. The phone continued to ring. You finally got your key into the lock and flung the door open widely. You slammed the door behind you and answered the phone, breathing heavily.

There was a beat or two of silence, before a disheartened voice came over the line. “I’m sorry,” Kobura said solemnly. He paused. “I don’t even remember what happened.” He sounded worried? Doku Kobura sounded uncertain?

Your fingers tightened around your phone. You needed stability. You were worried, but Kobura had been so assured of himself. Nothing ever got to him like that, like you’re hearing now.

“Why are you apologizing?” your voice came out barely above a whisper. “W-why does everyone keep apologizing?”

“Sweet Anna, I…” Kobura sighed. “I messed up. I promise you that I will do everything to ensure that you’re safe, but I made a mistake.”

“What happened?” you asked, holding your breath.

“Emiyo Miya happened.” Kobura let out a groan of irritation. “She stalked me, cornered me in the new café I frequent, and then she professed her love to me. It was as absurd as it sounds.” You heard Kobura slam something in the background. “Sweet Anna, you have to understand the only person I’ve ever loved is you!” Kobura’s breathing had slowly began to quicken. “For her to question me about that, to tell me that you’re not worthy… I lost all sense!” Something else clattered in the room. “I said your name, and I put you in danger by doing that.”

“In danger?” At this point you were just repeating what he said in utter shock.

“I promise you I will protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you Anna. I’m actively watching her activity to ensure she’s nowhere near you. The safest place you can be is on campus. As much as it pains me to be away from you, to trust the heroes to protect you, I don’t want you anywhere she can get to you easily.” Kobura waited for you to respond, to say anything. “You have to believe me, Sweet Anna. Please forgive me. I would have never purposefully done something to make you a target. All I can do now is fix it, make sure you’re safe. I’m taking down the videos as fast as I can. You shouldn’t ever have to see me like that.”

“How did she do it? How could she affect you?” you asked, lips trembling.

“It was her quirk. I’m not like you, Sweet Anna. I don’t have immunity to certain quirks like you. From what I could infer from the video and information over the web, she can control emotions. Like I said, I don’t remember it even happening…” he continued to talk, but his voice faded out in the background.

Your quirk buzzed in your skull. You didn’t understand what he was saying. A villain could do something like that to him? Could make him look so helpless, and he couldn’t remember it? A villain like that was after you? Fear had your body quaking. Your legs buckled, but you caught yourself on the edge of your bed. Something was knocked loose from the counter and clattered to the ground.

“Anna? What was that? Are you okay?” Kobura asked.

Abruptly, someone started to pound on your door. You yelped, dropping your phone.

“Let me in, Big Brain! I need to know you’re okay!” Bakugo yelled.

Your voice caught in your throat. Your worried gaze shifted between the door and your phone. You felt like a weight was sitting heavily on your chest. You covered your ears, curling up into a ball. Not again, you can’t feel unsafe again.

“Anna!” Bakugo shouted. “If you don’t answer me, I’m going to blast the door down!”

“Anna? What’s going on?” you could barely hear Kobura from the other end of the phone.

“Bakugo, don’t…” you said in a small voice. “I’m…”

“Anna,” Bakugo’s voice had softened. “I hear you in there. Let me in.” He jiggled the handle, but he stopped hitting the door. “Tell me what’s really wrong.”

“I c-can’t move,” you said a little louder. Your quirk had sparked to life, your hair rose in your panic.

Bakugo’s shadow loomed beneath the door. Judging by the sound, he must have slid down the other side, sitting in place. “Breathe, Anna. Focus on your breath. I’m right here. I won’t go anywhere.”

You focused on your breathing to slow the vibrations thrumming in your head. The release of tension was almost immediate. You held the side of your head, crawling toward the door in hopes you’d stay conscious, still gasping for air through distant sobs. You lifted your hand up to the handle with trembling fingers. As soon as you managed to open the door, Bakugo carefully slipped inside, kneeling in front of your half-crumpled form. His rough hands moved toward your face, wiping your cheeks free of tears.

“Breathe. Just breathe, Anna. You’re safe. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Just breathe,” Bakugo said softly.

Your sobs dissipated. Bakugo clutched your head to his chest, carefully untangling your disheveled hair with his fingers. Without warning, he’d stopped smoothing down your hair. He slowly released you, grabbing your phone from the ground, but it had gone completely black.

“What happened?” Bakugo asked.

You didn’t speak, staring at the far wall. “I can’t tell you,” you said, covering your face in your hands. “Please don’t ask again. I can’t tell you,” you repeated. You’d already dug yourself far enough down in this hole you made. Sympathizing with a villain had its consequences. You couldn’t drag Bakugo into it. Kobura promised he would keep you safe, but it didn’t make things less terrifying. He’d been the one that had frightened you so long ago. No, this was your mess, your burden to carry. You wouldn’t tell Bakugo any of it. It could put him in danger. He might hate you for it.

Bakugo shifted, setting your phone on your desk before he fell back to his knees in front of you. His crimson eyes were filled with thought. Still, he returned to holding you.

“Okay. It’s okay,” he said.

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nineteenninety-six · 4 years

Text

Crooner

REQUEST: Hi! I love your writing and I have a little request since I’m in quarantine and so down and bored. I don’t know if you’ll be able to do it but here it goes! Pairing Tommy Shelby x reader, they were together for a while but they split bc Tommy is focused in work and the f!reader (or OC) is tired of Tommy’s cheating so she goes to London and stays with Ada and there she meets a crooner (Alex Turner it’s in my head haha) and Tommy is searching for him bc is an important communist and + + and when Tommy finds him the reader is flirting with him so Tommy goes to Ada’s to tell her about the crooner. The reader comes back to Ada’s and starts telling her about the crooner how handsome and awesome he is etc even though Ada tries to stop her and Tommy hears until he is so pissed off that he comes where they are and idk how it ends between Tommy and reader actually haha bad prompt I know but maybe you could use the idea. Thanks, I’ll keep reading and I hope you’re okay! 💖

I know this is bad but I really struggled with it and I’m p sure, it’s been in my inbox for like 2 months and it needed it to be done and I’m not going to do a 2nd part, it was hard enough to do this one.

I’ve been watching NCIS on Netflix recently and I never realised how funny it was lmao

“You’re not serious.” Tommy gaped

“I am.”

Tommy stared at the woman in front of him in shock. After several years together, (Y/N) had decided to end the relationship, she had reached her limit of lonely night after lonely night along with Tommy’s lack of presence, in general, made her realise that their relationship was very one-sided with her being the only one who made an effort, not to mention her suspicions of him cheating.

“Why?”

“Why?” (Y/N) scoffed, “You’re not that clueless, are you?”

“(Y/N)--”

“Tommy, you are practically married to your work!”

“Without my work, we wouldn’t be where we are!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Tommy!” (Y/N) bit back

“Then, what are you saying?!”

“There’s a difference between being invested in your work and being so involved that you start to push the people around you away!”

Like every conversation they’ve had over the past month, it descended into a shouting match. It was another reason which prompted (Y/N) to leave, the fact that they couldn’t even have a conversation that didn’t end with one of them storming out in anger was a problem.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asked with a resigned sigh.

“London. I’m going to stay with Ada.”

“Alright.” Tommy nodded at her before turning around and leaving the room.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at his overdramatic behaviour before picking up her bags and leaving the house. She wanted to leave Small Heath as soon as possible.

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

(Y/N) had settled into London nicely, Ada had gotten her a job at the library and she hadn’t seen nor heard of Tommy since she had left Birmingham. She knew that Ada kept in contact him with him but the other woman had thankfully never brought his name up.

Ada decided to take her to a small club one evening, for a girls night out. The club was full but not packed and on that particular evening, there was a band performing who’s singer sparked something in her. As soon as he began singing, she was starstruck, her eyes never left him and her mouth was slightly agape, it didn’t help that he had noticed her gaze and threw her smirks, winks as he was performing. The man was handsome, with his dark hair and dark coloured eyes, he had a certain allure to him.

Ada watched in amusement as her friend watched the band with rapt attention until they finished their set and it was only then was she able to snap out of her daze.

“Wow…”

Ada giggled, “You see something you like?”

“Ada!” (Y/N) shrieked, “It’s not like that.”

Ada continued to laugh, not believing her words before she abruptly stopped, her eyes going wide once she spotted something behind (Y/N), who didn’t notice Ada’s sudden silence.

“Hi…” The person behind (Y/N) whispered, causing the woman to gasp and turn around in shock.

“Hi…” (Y/N) whispered back, eyes wide.

“I’m Alex.” He grinned and stuck out his hand for her to shake, “I saw you from the stage. Did you like the songs?”

“(Y/N).” She shook his hand, “Yeah, I thought they were great.”

Alex smiled at her causing a rush of heat to flood to her cheeks. He was as charming as he was handsome.

“Would you like to go out together sometime?”

“I-I uh...sure! Absolutely.” (Y/N) stuttered.

“Heard of ‘The Ivy’?”

(Y/N) nodded.

“How does Wednesday at five sound?” Alex asked.

“Sounds great.” (Y/N) smiled at Alex.

“Great.” With one last smile and wink, Alex left the women.

Once she was sure he was out of hearing distance, (Y/N) squealed with Ada, unable to believe what just happened.

“Holy shit..” (Y/N) breathed.

“You’re telling me.” Ada sighs

Wednesday came quicker than (Y/N) expected and before she knew it, she was stood in front of a mirror, looking over of her outfit one last time before she had to leave and after a thumbs up and a wish of good luck for Ada, she was off to The Ivy.

The more time (Y/N) spent with Alex, the more she fell for him. He was gorgeous, charming, and a gentleman, she was falling hard and she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Alex was also safe, he wasn’t involved in any gangs or bad business as far as she knew, and it was the complete opposite of Tommy.

While (Y/N) was on her date, Tommy had travelled down to London to meet with Ada, he knew she still had communist ties even though Freddie had died and he needed her help with tracking down someone in particular.

“I need contact with your communist friends Ada.” Tommy pushed past his sister and walked into his house.

“They’re not my friends, Tommy.” Ada rolled her eyes.

“Right, you call them comrades don’t you?” Tommy sarcastically said.

“Tommy.” Ada wasn’t in the mood to deal with Tommy and his attitude.

Tommy pulled a photo out of his pocket and showed to Ada, “His name is Alex Turner and I need him.”

Ada blinked in shock at the photo that laid before her, it was the man from Saturday, the one who (Y/N) was currently on a date with and she was most definitely not going to tell Tommy anything about him.

“I’ve never seen him or heard of him,” Ada said nonchalantly.

Tommy huffs, “That’s why I want you to contact your friends Ada.”

“If it’s so important Tommy, then you can contact them yourself.”

Then opened his mouth to bite back but was interrupted but the front door opening and you voice ringing loudly through the house.

“Ada! Ada! Oh my god, Alex is so perfect and we’re going on a second date on Saturday.” (Y/N) gushed as she walked through the house, trying to find her friend.

Ada quickly motioned her brother into the kitchen before she rushed out to meet her friend.

“(Y/N)!” Ada met her friend in the hallway just before the kitchen and quickly turned her around and dragged her to the living room, “A second date already? You must seriously like him.”

“I do. He’s such a breath of fresh air.” (Y/N) confessed, “It’s so peaceful compared to Tommy.”

Tommy had overheard everything in the Kitchen and he lost his patience at what heard and stormed into the living room, surprising the women who sat there,

“One month and you’ve already moved on?” Tommy scoffed as he stopped in front of them.

“Tommy? What are you doing here?” (Y/N) stood up, confused

“Can’t I visit my sister?” Tommy sarcastically ask

“You know that not what I meant!” (Y/N) huffed, already frustrated with him.

“Who are you going out with?” Tommy changed the conversation back to the original topic.

“It’s none of your business. God, it’s times like these that I’m really grateful that I’m no longer with you. You’re a controlling freak!” With one last glare, (Y/N) stormed out of the room.

Tommy turned to his sister and raised his eyebrows but she merely shrugged, not wanting to get involved but she did believe, (Y/N) had a point, Tommy had a tendency to be ‘too much’.

Tommy huffed at his sister’s lack of reaction and left the house in a strop, too angry to remember the original reason why he came to Ada’s in the first place.

#tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #thomas shelby imagine

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