#I’m a sucker for all the prettiness and grandiosity | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

softmha · 3 years ago

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just not good enough

...

a/n: i watched this (this) tik tok a while ago and then wrote this.. hope u like it

also i’m a sucker for cozy winter fics

word count: 4.3k

warnings: angsty boom boom boy, a teeny bit of ooc bkg, soft bkg, some yelling, maybe a curse word or two idk, christmas, happy ending, also kinda unedited eek

…

it didn’t take a genius to see that there was something wrong with bakugou katsuki.

you saw it in the way he carried himself in the halls, shoulders slouching lower than usual. his feet shuffling forward with no conviction. you saw it in his eyes, lately lacking their token fiery luster. it was as if the flame burning behind them had been stomped out. after long enough, you were convinced you didn’t even remember what his voice sounded like. each word, formerly laced with passion and booming with bass, now an empty shell. for the most part, life went on as usual for his peers around him. without skipping a beat, they filled the wide void created in the absence of his explosive personality.

and all you could do was watch.

besides in training or in class, you never had any reason to talk to bakugou. you were lucky if he gave you a glance every now and again. in fact, you weren’t even sure if he knew where class a ended and class b began.

you still worked yourself up about him every opportunity you could.

hey, have you guys noticed how quiet bakugou has been lately?

“yeah, peaceful right?” jiro jested. everyone at the table giggled. you shot her an unamused eyebrow. your antsy fingers still tapped away at the lunch table as momo did try her best to reassure you. she even comforted you with a sympathetic smile and gentle hand to the back. but there was still this bitter taste in your mouth that wouldn’t waiver. of course your friends knew about your little infatuation with the blonde, as much as they could stomach to hear anyway. it was pretty easy for them to assume you were just hyper fixated on him again, so concerned for his well being just because you’re into him. you sat there with your mind running rampant, head resting against a propped up arm, simply watching as bakugou poked at his lunch from a few tables away.

“still, it’s hard to watch, y’know?” you turned back to her in response and quickly noticed that your comment fell onto deaf ears. your entire group had already settled the subject and moved onto the next. instead of debating, you tried your best to let it go and join the current conversation. something about the upcoming group project. it didn’t work.

you went back to class and still couldn’t get your mind off of him.

to no surprise, that wasn’t the end of it. each day of watching bakugou doze off in the middle of a lecture, barely touch his lunch, or get handed back a bad grade piled more weight onto your shoulders. In only a matter of days, he had gone from bad to worse. he barely talked to his friends, he never stayed past the bell, nor would he be caught dead in the common room. you could see the toll it took on kirishima, but after his trying to bring it up and being swiftly shot down by bakugou, he figured it was best to wait things out. at this point, nobody even acknowledged katsuki no-showing the christmas party.

…

you watched as every classmate packed up their belongings and filed out the grandiose front doors, everyone off to their separate homes and families. heading home for the holidays was something that just wasn’t in the cards for you this year. a weekend spent in the dorms was something more suited to your budget.

and you didn’t mind. a plain and peaceful christmas eve that you spend finishing up some homework wasn’t the worst thing. after catching up on some work, you devoted the rest of the night to surfing the channels for something festive to watch. home or not, you might as well have still enjoyed one of your favorite traditions.

a loud shockwave struck the building. the interruption so abrupt and, frankly, earth shattering it nearly caused you to fall out of your bed. it wasn’t one and done. you grew more and more concerned with each loud boom, the blasting sound waves slightly rattled the knick knacks on your dresser. you practically walked the entire dormitory to investigate. a figure standing idly in the courtyard could be seen from the common room window.

it was bakugou. his body stood stiff in the cold. he aggressively huffed out icy wisps while mumbling in disappointment to himself. he was too engulfed in his own animosity and frustration that he didn’t even notice you approach him on the snow blanketed front lawn. the closer you got, the more you could make out his physical state: exhausted. hands red and raw, probably from him overdoing it. lungs desperately heaved for air, he hasn’t given himself a break. his entire body both so tense and so frail, the sleeves of his shirt even burned and frayed. you saw all the effects of his intense training in the extreme cold. they did more harm than good. the entire campus, including every training ground, was closed for the holiday, meaning the dormitory courtyard became his practice grounds. but training out in the snow, his only defense against the harsh elements being a thin cotton long sleeve and sweat shorts. his poor choice in clothing was made with intention to punish himself.

and you’ve been on thin ice as is. you couldn’t go back inside and keep giving him time to process everything. you decided you had to intervene then and there, before he let himself freeze to death out there.

“katsuki,” you called out to him softly. your voice came off more concerned than you would have liked it to.

he immediately snapped his head in your direction. you saw the water brimming in his eyes through a bewildered expression. you were the last person he expected to call for him. he assumed nobody was still on campus during a holiday weekend. let alone, christmas eve.

he quickly regained composure and redirected his attention to his clenched fists.

“leave me alone,” he threatened, his deft tone might’ve been mistaken for a calm demeanor, but you knew this was his way of firing a warning shot. he made a last ditch effort to spare you before he catastrophically blew up. you debated listening to his orders. leaving could have been your best bet. but you’re you, and you couldn’t ignore the small cracks in his voice. the remnants of hurt that he couldn’t hide.

you didn’t say anything else, nor did you budge. you both stood in the empty silence for a few moments, thin ice beginning to attach itself to the tips of your eyelashes.

“you can’t keep doing this t’yourself,” you finally spoke up as the cold started to get to you, “it’s literally freezing out here.”

just come inside with me.

another frigid silence passed. he remains unphased by the holes your gaze burns through him.

you prod once more.

“fuck off.” his inflection was a lot more aggressive this time around. this was just another hard front he put up. probably. whatever it was, you were determined to break through it.

“I’ve seen you around, you know,” you made another attempt to console him, at least enough to get out of these harsh conditions, “I can see that you haven’t been the same since that night, and I completely get it..”

you didn’t really plan on getting this far. the confidence you walked onto the lawn with had now frozen over. the chilly atmosphere nipped at your exposed skin. it didn’t seem to bother him, the voices in his head were much more persistent. he hadn’t blatantly interrupted you yet, so you decided to make him an offer, “it’s just— you should know that you don’t have to do it alone, there’re lots of people here that care about you and we wanna help.”

still nothing. in all of your experience with bakugou, he was never the type to accept help when it’s offered, nor was he the type to admit when he needs it. as much as he may want to accept your olive branch, his pride kept him in a chokehold. you decide to take a different approach.

“you’re allowed to talk about these things, y’know? I get not wanting to burden your friends with it, but me? katsuki, i’m nobody.

“I have no reason to hold any of this against you and I have nobody to tell,” you shrugged, almost laughing at yourself, ”I mean, you’ll literally call me everything but my actual name, like, I don’t even think you even know it.

“to you, I’m just somebody with a decent enough quirk to happen to go to the same school as you, there’s nothing impressive about me or any reason you’d have to prove anything to me. I’m nobody-”

“just shut up”

this is the point where most of your classmates would’ve turned around, where they would figure they made their best case and that the ball is in his court now. they would think that they tried their hardest and that he was the hopeless one. but you couldn’t do that, you know bakugou and you know that you have to push and push and push before he’ll budge. so you did.

“I think you did everything that you could. and I know I speak for everyone,” you take a small step towards him, merely enough to peer at his facial expression. “we’re all proud of you.”

all that came out of bakugou were the tiny wisps of ice caught in his breath. you were beginning to think you wouldn’t be able to get through to him. the long silence that followed your words confirmed that.

maybe your friends were right. maybe this was something he had to deal with himself. maybe you couldn’t help him. these thoughts continued to flood your mind as more and more time came to pass.

“I don’t get it” he sighed underneath his breath. the amount of restraint and control in his voice completely caught you off guard.

“don’t get what?” you questioned. the look in your eyes practically begged for his answer, for anything.

“why you’re so obsessed with me,” he spat. his back stayed turned away from you. his gaze still fixated on the mixture of melting snow and mud on the ground in front of him. you felt all the blood in your body pool in your cheeks, shades of deep red overflowed into the tips of your ears. you didn’t expect this conversation to go well at all in the first place, but now it’s taken a complete nose dive as you all but melt into a puddle right beside him.

“s’either that, or none a’ you extras fuckin’ listen to me when I tell you t’ leave me the hell alone,” his voice grew louder. an echo reverberated off of the surrounding buildings. you saw bakugou tense up, his knuckles now as white as the snowfall. even though he started to get angry, you couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief that his accusation was aimed at the whole class instead of only you.

“I already told you, we care ab-” you took a small step towards him.

“go home, y/n.”

“I care about you-” another one.

“god dammit, leave me alone.”

you took one last step to finally close the frigid gap between you two. he still refused to look back at you.

“it wasn’t your fault, katsuki, none of it was.”

his gaze met with yours at last. his voice said anger, but his eyes didn’t match. you could see all the hurt and self-hatred etched in every feature, the skin around his eyes was especially red and puffy. the mask he spent so long crafting had finally slipped, but only for a moment. his mistake was quickly corrected as both of his eyebrows furrow to meet in the middle. the small part between his lips was now replaced with a gritted frown.

“that’s easy for you to say”

he laughed, a seething and maniacal laugh. he laughed right into your face. the thick network of veins now protruded from his biceps. he stood his ground as he looked down on you.

“when you fuck up, do you get kidnapped by a villain organization?“ his eyes pierced into yours, blood red and malicious. he took a step closer toward you.

“do you make your parents realize every doubt they have about you is true?”

he moves in closer with another step, close enough to where you can feel the rough vibration of every syllable against your delicate skin. his fuming breath rolled over each concerned contour in your face.

“do you make your friends risk their lives t’ fix your mistake?”

“katsuki-“

“no, no. i’m not done, y/n-

“w-whe-when you fuck up-“ the tension in his body dissipated as he sputters out short breaths; his eyes quickly pooled with water, -do you bring the greatest hero of all time down with you?”

his red irises no longer threaten you, their brilliant crimson glow now a glassy burgundy. he still maintained harsh eye contact with you, fearing that the tears would spill if he blinked. you tried to step forward and finally close the gap between your bodies, but he instinctively moved away from your suggestion. a sturdy forearm intended to bar your body from his. he still tried to duck his head out of your enclosing embrace, but finally submitted when your hand guided him to your shoulder.

“i’m just not good enough”

“it’s okay.. you’re okay”

you didn’t have a clue on how to console him, so you didn’t say a word. you just kept your grip around the back of his head and let him cry into the crook of your neck for a while. until you felt that he’d listen to what you have to say.

“you don’t have to be so tough all the time, nobody’s expecting that from you-“

“I expect it from myself”

“well,” you sighed, “i think you should take a break for one night at least. you’re only hurting yourself out here.”

you didn’t give him time to decide, instead you slipped your hand around his forearm, frozen fingers struggling to grip.

“come on, let’s go inside,” you gently nudged him towards the front doors. his legs gave in, trudging right behind you through the thin snowy blanket. judging by the defeated look on his face, you’re pretty sure his body made the decision to let you take him inside before he did.

…

you loosened the grip on bakugou’s arm as soon as you entered the building, taking your hand back in favor of rubbing them together. there isn’t much either of you have to say on the elevator ride up to the fourth floor, where both your rooms reside. it didn’t matter though, you were too cold to notice an awkward silence even if there were one.

small shivers ran through your torso and your legs as you try to produce as much heat through friction as possible. you couldn’t help but notice that bakugou isn’t struggling nearly as much.

“how are y-you not freez-zing?” you managed to ask through chattering teeth.

he doesn’t reply, only extends his palm towards you, as if he was holding out for your hand. you exchange him a confused look, he responds by reaching for your frantic hands, gently enveloping it in his calloused palm. he sees your face light up instantly.

“oh my god you’re so warm” your gasp echoes against the metal walls of the elevator car. he’s a little amused by your visible excitement. bakugou doesn’t say a word in protest as you spend the rest of the elevator ride placing his hands over your frosted cheeks or wrapping them around your ice-cold fingers.

you’re pulled from your euphoria when the elevator bell dings and the doors slide open to your floor. bakugou feels your hands release his. the two of you walk in the direction of your assigned dorms. your hands were, in fact, freezing but he thinks his felt colder after you let go.

you turn toward him as he posts outside his bedroom door, threatening to disappear into it. he already has his door open when you call out for him.

“uhm, would you want to come in?” you ask harmlessly. “you don’t have to, it's just that- I don’ really wanna spend christmas eve alone y’know”

…

bakugou watches as you flick off the lights and settle in on your bed next to him, leaving only a few inches of space between where he’s sitting. your room is the last place he expected to be tonight. but he’s here and he’s wrapped in a plush blue blanket. the entire room and everything in it is bathed in the sweet aroma, something like cinnamon.

he makes note that it smells just like you.

you pick up where you left off, flipping through the channels in search of a holiday movie.

“I know it’s here somewhere,” you mumble to yourself while speeding past each channel before stopping on one playing a corny christmas movie, “ahh, got it!” you expected bakugou to give you more flak for your choice. he only rolls his eyes.

“why are you still here?” his voice has a rasp and is coarser than usual, but his question’s pure. there’s not a trace of malice left in his tone.

“well, I live here too,” you say. your sarcasm causes him to scoff. you don’t take your eyes off the screen. you divulge, briefing him on your family's situation. how you couldn’t get back home because the money wasn’t right.

“so you were gonna spend christmas here by yourself?” he grills you. he sounds almost offended by your intentions. you’re genuinely surprised he cared enough to ask.

“well I have my christmas movie marathon, and my cozy room,” you bring your attention to bakugou, “and now i even someone to watch it with”

he huffs and redirects back to the show, “these movies are shit” he ruffles the blankets to shake out the remote. you snatch it out of his reach before he even finds it.

“hey, hey” you swat the remote at him as if it were a carrot on a string, “shitty movies make you feel better”

you teeter back and forth between asking him why he’s still here or just keeping your mouth shut. you decide to ask. he doesn’t say much about it. it has something to do with his parents having a work trip and him having no desire to go with them.

“well I hope I don’t make you regret that, holding you hostage to my shitty movies and all,” you laugh a bit; he doesn’t really respond. you do take a little bit of pity on his situation. after all it is you that’s subjecting him into socializing, and then forcing him to watch your admittedly garbage films.

“here,” you hold the remote out for him, “you can pick whatever you want.”

he waves away your gesture and grabs a pillow to shove between his back and the wall. he genuinely tries to focus on the film for your sake; but it isn’t too long before he’s throwing his arms at the tv and talking to (edit: yelling at) the characters. you try your best to hold your ground; to defend the fickle main character and her very bad decisions. after long enough you’re laughing along with bakugou. you end up having a better time poking fun at the corny characters and the predictable plot than you would’ve watching the movie by yourself.

you’re well into the second movie when you notice blonde tufts of hair slowly inching closer as katsuki gets more comfortable with you. he’s now laying back onto his elbows, head cocked sideways at the screen. his unrelenting criticism tells you he’s actually very invested in the story. which is impressive, especially for someone who referred to it as a “shitty movie” earlier that night. truth is, he couldn’t care less about the film. he enjoys hearing you laugh at each of his jests. he’ll mock the plot and mimic the poorly written male lead just to get a rise out of you, good or bad. he chuckles to himself at every one your comebacks. he never thought he’d be having as good of a time as he is.

and you can tell too. your heartbeat is in your ears when you think about taking it a little further. he notices you get quiet, not exactly following every one of his quips. eventually you decide to take the leap. you lay a gentle palm on the side of his head, causing him to jump a bit at the touch. he doesn’t move away. you go on to fidget with his hair, twirling each unruly lock between your fingers and running your nails gently over his scalp. you take it as a cue that you haven’t gone too far when he starts to lean into it a bit, anticipating— no, savoring each stroke.

and this severely touch starved man does, indeed, savor it. he relishes in the bliss of every hand you place on him. he lavishes in every caress you give him. he honestly can’t recall the last time he’s felt a touch so soft, the hands he’s known in the past not always so innocent. each individual finger lightly kissing his forehead along his hairline, running across his skull, and finally scratching little circles into the tender skin at the nape of his neck until you start over again.

by the third christmas miracle narrative, he’s completely given into the physical affection. head on your stomach and bulky arms wrapping up and around the sides of your torso. he grips your sides almost as if to keep you from leaving. he keeps the majority of his weight off of you and in his lower body splayed out to the right of your figure.

he still makes his sarcastic comments but now they’re less intense. with both your hands still caressing at his hair, he can feel the weight stacking onto his eyelids. his heart beats the softest it ever has in his chest. the warmth of your plush torso and waist underneath him makes it even harder for him to fight the sleep. you knew he was getting tired, his barrage of insults ceasing almost completely, but it took you by surprise to look down and see him out cold. his arms still clutched your body close to his. you’ve never seen him so peaceful, so relaxed. you don’t let up.

you toy at his hair all the way up until you’re fast asleep as well.

…

you blink your eyes open to lines of bright sunlight streaked across the ceiling. it’s colder. the television still playing the same loop of basic holiday films about saving the christmas spirit or finding true love in the city. the candles have burned themselves down to the base of their wicks, lingering scent confirming that it wasn’t a dream. last night you were in too much of a shock to appreciate the moment. this morning your heart flutters at the thought that what happened, happened. but as you sit in the quiet cold, you don’t even have to look down to know that you’re all alone.

you lie there for a while, wondering how he’ll act towards you from now on. he may go back to not knowing you exist, he’ll pretend none of this ever happened. maybe you’ll share a glance in passing through the halls. and when you do, he’ll have a small glint in his eyes. memories of last night reminiscent in the look he gives you, but it will fade over time. by the end of the year, his mind won’t try to recall this night when he speaks to you. he’ll probably be able to take his usual seat in the classroom, the one right in front of you, without even batting an eyelash.

or maybe he’ll reject it completely, making you regret ever taking pity on the likes of him. any attention he doles out your way would be bound to leave a sour taste in your mouth and a sting in your throat. it didn’t matter either way. any of these outcomes would mean that you made a difference. and you were fine with that.

you helped katsuki, even if just a little bit, and to you that was enough.

you spend a few more moments staring out your bedroom window into the courtyard, watching delicate white flakes cascade onto the thick white blanket. all the footprints from last night have been filled in with fresh snow. you choose to keep on the same comfy fit, opting only to fix your hair a little. you stand behind the door, handle in hand, bracing yourself for an awkward run in with bakugou.

in your completely empty dorm housing.

on christmas day.

…

you make it all the way down the hall, into the elevator, and across the common room without catching a glimpse of him. you figure you’re home free until you see his unruly head of hair in front of the stove. he’s working pretty intensely on something. it’s when you approach closer that you see he’s cooking a variety of breakfast foods, more than he could probably eat.

“y’really couldn’t stay asleep for another five minutes, huh?” his voice is low and warm. you don’t even have words to say.

“i-i, what? no- you didn’t .. have to-“ bakugou watches you slip over your words through unamused eyes. he stacks another hot cake on the plate that’s meant to be yours, “seriously, stop!”

“as if ‘m gonna run my mouth t’you all night for free,” he mutters to his spatula before using it to point at the seat in front of the counter, “sit down.”

the ceramic plate clinks onto the counter in front of you as you assure him that none of this is necessary and that, if there’s ever a time you need help, you’re sure he’d be there for you, too. he rounds the counter with his own plate and sets it down next to you before taking the adjacent seat at the bar.

“just shut up and eat before it gets cold”

the shock on your face blends into a smile. you pick up your utensils and start working at your plate.

merry christmas to you too, katsuki

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opalescient · 4 years ago

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haikyuu fic recs — the most beautiful, lovely, breathtaking masterlist (vol. I)

so i’ve been binging fics to cure my sadness, and i thought that these select masterpieces were too magnificent to not be plastered on every billboard ever. some tore my soul into shreds, while others melted said shreds back whole, but all of them made me feel some form of sheer, unadulterated love, so. please enjoy! 🥰⛅️✨

note: all of these fics are exquisite and you should read all of them, but if you’re short of time, those with ☆ are my all-time favourites!

daisuga

butterfly in the subway by bigspoonnoya ☆ | T

Sugawara Koushi has no idea he's already in love with the man he's supposed to hate.

i lovelovelove how all the concepts tied in together like a perfectly wrapped gift

also very wholesome, made me feel so inexplicably warm. like, love can exist everywhere!!! despite everything!!! that’s just so inspiring

i revisited this many times, i think it was (one of) my first haikyuu fics and honestly. it set the bar so high and i have no regrets

you’d fit my lonely arms so perfectly by boxofwonder ☆ | G

“Oh. You're. Not Asahi.”

Calmed down enough that he can speak again, Daichi takes a deep breath, his smile settling on his face easily and wide.

“Not as far as I know, no.”

Suga accidentally calls a stranger instead of his best friend, tells him all about his burned batch of cookies before realising, and that particular mistake might turn out the best one he ever made.

major, major fluff

the buildup!!!

god this made my yearning for love so much worse

the perfect stranger by downmoon | T

There’s a man standing outside Suga's door.

Scratch that. Start over.

There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.

so domestic please read the entire series from start to finish it has my whole heart

shoyou and tobio as their actual kids 🥺

these two parents are so in love it makes me wanna cry

asanoya

silica sand by lilien passe ☆ | G

Overworked, over-stressed programmer Azumane Asahi works on the top floor of a Shinjuku skyscraper. Nervous around his coworkers and terrified of the long drop on the other side of the window, Asahi falls into a miserable routine, only to have it broken one day by a simple message on the outside of the glass.

PLEASE. so well-written it makes my heart glow and ache simultaneously

made me ascend into asanoya heaven

such a brilliantly unique concept i love it A+

qué syrah syrah by loudlucy | M

Asahi wants to be a Master Sommelier. It's the highest honor in wine service, and the certification would allow him to live the life he's always envisioned for himself. Too bad the certification test is notorious for being the world's most difficult.

Most people fail their first time taking the exam, and Asahi is no exception, but he has more difficulty than most dusting himself off and getting back on his feet. Enter Nishinoya, a young man who shares his same dream, and who believes in their goals so fiercely it forces Asahi to embark on a delicious and sensuous journey of viticulture and validation.

AKA The Wine Tasting AU that literally no one even knew to ask for.

NOTE: You Do Not Need to Know About Wine to Understand This Fic!

another super unique concept!!! (´∀｀=)

my god their chemistry is amazing

the writing made me feel things ngl

stop my bones from wondering by cerasi ☆ | T

After graduation, Asahi hides from the world and needs help from a few sources to find his way back.

i want to write sonnets and sing ballads for this fic, it’s that beautiful

as always, Top Notch Writing *chef’s kiss*

no but i seriously... can i kiss the author? asking for a friend 😳👉🏼👈🏼

iwaoi

star-crossed by starlitcities | T

“I never thought I’d see the day that I’d envy a human,” Oikawa admits, showering himself in tiny suns, because he can actually feels those, like a fusillade of warm kisses on luminous skin that leave marks. To humans, they’d be freckles. Skin stars, Oikawa calls them. He didn’t make that up, a human did.

“Who created the rule that we can’t touch, I wonder,” Iwaizumi ponders, floating heedlessly through space.

“Maybe it’s because we can fly. Humans dream of flying, right?”

“I don’t think so.”

gsjsgsjshsjshsjsj star!iwaoi

they’re LITERALLY STARS

beautifulbeautifulbeautiful i love how the author conveyed the beauty of touch and humanity 🥺🥺

please bless yourself further with the sequel sun-kissed

conquering the great king by suggestivescribe ☆| E

Iwaizumi blinked his gaze over to Oikawa, "Last time was supposed to be a one time thing," he said, voice low, lacking some conviction.

Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

yes.

in fact, this entire series (breaking the rules) features daisuga, kuroken, asanoya and it’s SO GOOD. every single one.

but anyway, character development!!!!! plot!!!!!!!!! writing!!!!!!!! i’m here for it all

tsukkiyama

campfire in your chest by deanpendragon ☆ | M

Kei realizes in their second year of high school that he’s probably been in love with Yamaguchi since they were ten. However hopeless he might be in handling that situation, Kei prays he’s at least not as hopeless as Hinata and Kageyama. But he just might be.

SO BEAUTIFUL

i am also a sucker for anything with stars, moons and all the love in between

no words to describe this work of art please just go read it and be blessed

under the lilac tree by raewrites | G

there’s a lilac tree in Kei’s backyard.

gorgeous in its simplicity

softtsukkisofttsukkisofttsukki

not as grandiose as the rest but the love written into every word, action and character is absolutely show-stopping

kagehina

saffron and cayenne pepper by dontsaycrazy ☆ | T

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

the essence of their characters were captured so well and yet it’s like they’re completely new characters too? author, whoever you are, you totally owned this

this made me ship kagehina so hard

fluff! cuteness! lots and lots of cooing!

kuroken

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) by cosmogony ☆ | T

soulmate

/ˈsəʊlmeɪt/ • noun

A person who was made from the same star as you.

// Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives.

ahhh here it is. beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-emptying agony. you want angst? choke on this, and your tears later on.

no but seriously please read this if you haven’t you won’t regret it at all i promise

written from kenma’s perspective so you experience every depth and multitude of emotion he does and it’s so raw and- brb imma go cry for a sec

knot in my heart by hearthope | T

There’s a picture. Kenma blinks, looking at the little calico cat, being held up next to the face of a guy with stupidly messy hair and a crooked grin.

Cute.

The— the cat. The cat is cute.

Just the cat.

Kuroo starts spending a lot of time at the flower shop Kenma works at. Kenma definitely isn't into him.

okay so i like it when authors unravel a normally stoic character’s full scope of emotion and give them depth, sue me.

anyway, back on the fluff train!

i absolutely f*ck with flower symbolisms, cats and bitchy best friends who have dirt on each other. the layers of romance, friendship and everything in between is so prettily developed 10/10

bokuaka

the jacket you never returned by daisuga ☆☆ | G

He leaned over, kissed Bokuto on the cheek, and smiled bitterly, eyes watery.

He will never remember. Not now, not ever.

What they were will now forever be forgotten.

"You used to call me Keiji, Koutarou."

YOU USED TO CALL ME KEIJI, KOUTAROU!!!!!!!!!!

i beg you to listen to Spiegel im Spiegel when it’s first mentioned in the story please

i read this and screamed through my tears for a solid 1.5 hours. i rarely cry.

no f*ckin regrets though i read this thrice already and it hurts so good every time

rules by conesofdunshire ☆☆ | E

In which Akaashi Keiji is an overworked accountant who stumbles upon Bokuto one night playing the piano in the lobby of his work. Bokuto is different, that much is obvious. But with such supreme musical talent and a smile so dazzling it rivals the sun, there's just something about him that brings Akaashi back every night.

this fic. this fic has my whole, broken, sobbing heart and laughing soul

gorgeous. breathtaking. magnificent.

bokuto is so WARM and akaashi is so STRONG and they both find the solace they need in each other and it’s all i want for me 😭😭😭

in another life by littleluxray | T

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

this is a famous fic that i doubt any seasoned haikyuu reader wouldn’t know, and RIGHTLY SO BECAUSE, the PAIN. the pain. the pain.

i could feel my lungs shrivel up and my chest cave in on itself. fatigue and rest are things i struggle with too so this whole story resonated with me from start to finish, and it broke me. in like, the best, most revitalising way

i would read this again but it still haunts me at night. i need to heal from the first time before i have the guts to try one more time HAHAHA 😆💔😭

tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau | G

“I'm gonna date that,” Bokuto declares solemnly, and Kuroo throws a plastic spoon at his head.

mmmmmmm pretty photographer + personalised coffee cups + cute baristas = diabetic fluff fic

i smiled so much throughout this you have no idea. cheeks achey but so good

i may have squealed a little at the ending

kurotsukki

moonfall by batman | T

There is no unlearning Tetsurou, after all. There is only leaving him.

(Five things of Tetsurou's that ended up in Kei's home, and one that never left.)

the writing!!!!!! is pure beauty!!!! sheer grace!!!!!!! the construction of the AU and the romanticism and hsjsgsjshsj

didn’t cry but. heart ache and bittersweet smiles are another level of misery that is just as fulfilling

yea just pleasepleasepleaseplease go read it thank you and have a good day

hidden gem by realmSpinner | E

Things get complicated when everything you thought you knew about a guy changes, and they get even more complicated when you actually start liking those changes.

That guy working with you AND becoming your neighbor? That's just a cherry on top of the cake of confusion.

this AU was refreshingly different, and amazingly so

top!tsukki??? sign me the f*ck up

the whole plot, man. perfection.

pings by barfs ☆☆ | T

[5/02/16, 3:50:17 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Please wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:50:23 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I hate begging. You know I hate it.

[5/02/16, 3:50:34 AM] Tsukishima Kei: I bet you’re snickering at that, wherever you are.

[5/02/16, 3:50:53 AM] Tsukishima Kei: But, it keeps hurting and I don’t know why and it feels like shit and I know you could tell me why, but you’re not here and I would really appreciate it if you’d just wake up.

[5/02/16, 3:51:02 AM] Tsukishima Kei: You’re laughing at that too, aren’t you.

[5/02/16, 3:51:10 AM] Tsukishima Kei: Dying is probably up there in the list of top ten shitty things you’ve ever done, and you’ve done a lot of shitty things.

god.

you already know what’s coming, and yet. when it comes.

how the f*ck did the author make grief beautiful????????? (at the expense of me dying along with kei and everyone else i guess)

this fic will ruin you and bury you under all your pain (i hope you’re ready)

but also put you back together with the “sequel”

kyouhaba

close to the chest by darkmagicalgirl | T

It takes Yahaba thirteen years to realize he's different from the other kids, one to figure out how to hide it, and two more to learn to be happy just the way he is. Yahaba's journey ft. an extremely annoyed Kyoutani, best friend in the world Watari, and loads and loads of good senpai Oikawa.

cause i’m (not) alright with the slow, burn~

no fr, take slow and burn very seriously

overthinking yahaba? i understand. i do.

again, such an amazing fic; 10/10 recommend

safe here by crossbelladonna ☆ | M

“Raids are routine work,” Kyoutani tells to Yahaba before he can air the question. “Sometimes there is no sleep done until we accomplish something, say kill a certain ghoul. I guess they’re still going through the possibility that people in the accident are still alive huh?”

Yahaba quirks a smile, pushing his mask up his head.

“You’re alive.”

Kyoutani looks at him intently and all of the things that they’ve gone through for the past month seems to flash in his mind.

“Yes I am.”

i haven’t watched tokyo ghoul but i understood everything perfectly. such is the power of f*cking kickass writing

*cue ugly crying and a lot of unresolved angst*

like the grief??????? ruin me please thank you 🙏 (i think i’m a little masochistic)

rare pairs

mannequin men by surveycorpsjean ☆ | M

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tuskishima]

The modelling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

i did not expect this to be good, and it wasn’t. it was SPLENDID.

akaashi is so enamoured with them from the get go i love it

a tiny bit of angst that stabbed me in the heart, but the happy ending soothed it (thankfully, because if there wasn’t one i will sue)

characterisation, writing, plot development; everything is great. can you tell i’m running out of synonyms for ‘beautiful’

feel like gold by heronfem ☆☆ | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/kenma]

In which Kenma is unapologetic and comfortable with who he is, Akaashi learns a lot about himself in a short period of time, Kuroo is wildly in love and an eternal survivor, and Bokuto remembers that love doesn't cure mental illness, but having a support system sure helps a lot.

Or, the one where 4 young men get together, and are helplessly, hopelessly, utterly in love despite everything.

e.e. cummings?? poetry??? f*ck yes

so beautiful. i’m so star-struck by this fic it’s simply stunning

there are no words to fully capture how worth your time and heart and mind reading this fic is so please. do yourself a favour, and fall in love with this fic with me

the sky and guilt are the only feelings i have left by oopsthisisqueertoo ☆☆ | not rated

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo]

Akaashi is at his wits end. He feels nothing. He's quickly crumbling as a human being. He wants nothing but sweet release of death. In his fourth year of college he drafts a plan for his suicide. He is to graduate, publish writing for others to be inspired by, and slip quietly away. Shortly after, he meets a dog walker named Bokuto who asks him out and Akaashi reluctantly agrees. Nothing matters anymore and he treats Bokuto like an obligation. Until he's not anymore.

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPTS & DEPRESSION

this was... this gutted me entirely and filled my body with too many shades of agony

arguably one of the best haikyuu fics i’ve ever read

so beautiful in the most painful way fathomable; strongly recommend

april to may by surveycorpsjean | T

[bokuto/akaashi/kuroo/tsukishima]

They're an odd family.

The four of them? Parents?

But still, they're a family.

So they'll support each other until the end.

aaahhhhh third gym as parents 🥺

so much fluff. i also love april and may

they’re still so in love there’s love in every millimetre of this fic :”)

that’s it for now! i’ll add more if i come across anymore good fics. i hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any requests/fic recs, or if u just wanna chat, feel free to just ask! hehe 🥰 k aight bye~

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #fic rec #beautiful #writing #ao3 fanfic #daisuga #kuroken #bokuaka #tsukkiyama #kagehina #third gym #iwaoi #fic #reference #hq

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abigailsbookblog · 4 years ago

Text

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen

Oh. My. God. The cuteness overload!

I’m a sucker for any “cliche” fake-dating, enemies-to-lovers fics and I have an overwhelming love for YA contemporary romcoms, especially when sapphic in nature.

This story follows Scottie, a basketball player who is still heartbroken and pining over her ex-girlfriend, Tally. After losing a pre-season game to Tally’s basketball team, Scottie gets into a fender bender with Irene - her nemesis. Due to their meddling mothers, Scottie and Irene begin to carpool to school together. When an opportunity presents itself for both girls to benefit, Irene and Scottie make a deal: Scottie gives Irene $1,000 for her car repairs and in exchange, Irene pretends to date Scottie to make Tally jealous. The problem is that sometimes love comes from unexpected places.

This book is a lighthearted, fun read, but also conveys a very important message about grieving past relationships, nurturing and loving yourself, and being honest with your emotions. The support Scottie and Irene both have in the forms of friends and family makes this book even that much more enjoyable. It’s such a good story, with pretty fascinating characters and a great balance between grandiose gestures of romance and the importance of communication.

If you’ve been struggling to read, or feeling like all the books you’ve been reading are just too heavy, then I recommend picking this one up! It’s light & heartwarming, with just enough drama to make it interesting without making it overwhelming.

I’m giving this four stars because it was a perfect, lighthearted, easy read that gave me all the feels of falling in love again after being heartbroken. Kelly Quindlen nailed it with this book!!

Thank you to NetGalley & Macmillan Children’s Publishing Group for giving me an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Trigger Warning: mentions of underage drinking and homophobia

#bookish #bookworm #book review #booklove #reading #bibliophile #netgalley review #booklr #arc review #youngadultfiction #ya contemporary #lgbtq books #kelly quindlen #she drives me crazy

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costellos · 4 years ago

Note

Helloooo Toya!! I have a question: how would each Duwang Gang member react to be given their favorite flower (and what's their favorite flower)? Thank you for reading my ask!!

a/n: YELLS!!! anon this is SUCH a cute question! you’re the first to request anything with the Duwang Gang so bless u. thank u. there isn’t enough content for them. also I know you probably just wanted a concept but bc I love this idea I’m writing full headcanons.

tw: mentions of death in Okuyasu’s part

❥ ┋ ❝ duwang gang, what their favorite flowers are, & how they react when given it!

jotaro kujo.

Jotaro’s favorite flowers are wisteria (though holly is a close second).

he’s not much of a flower guy. he typically finds them to be too much, with cherry blossoms getting everywhere and the memory of Suzie Q’s gardenia perfume being unbearable. if you asked him for his favorite, he’d say wisteria.

he wouldn’t elaborate if you asked why. truthfully, he doesn’t know. but between you and me, it’s because he saw a wisteria tree in full bloom before he, Joseph, Kakyoin, and Avdol left for Egypt. it’s the last thing he saw as his house faded over the horizon, with the cab Joseph ordered pulling the group away from the lives they knew.

the idea strikes you while looking through travel guides. being a Morioh native, why not make the most of Jotaro’s visit? there’s a wisteria tree at the Morioh Botanic Garden; being a sucker for botanics yourself, it’d be nice to do a little two-in-one. you get to enjoy the view while bringing Jotaro to his favorite flower.

but when you lead him to the tree, the reaction he gives you isn’t what you expected. he’s quiet. not a mad or sad kind of quiet, just... silent. even after months of dating, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. but judging by his face, whatever is running through his head is something he’s made peace with. he only puts his hand on the top of your arm, pulling your figure close to him. ↳ “I’m surprised you remembered.” a beat, and then a sigh. “thank you, [Name]. but let’s keep moving, I don’t want to linger here.”

rohan kishibe.

Rohan’s favorite flowers are moonflowers.

he dislikes any flower that’s associated with manga. red spider lilies, roses, cherry blossoms (which is heightened thanks to Josuke), you name it. he thinks it’s a lazy way to draw symbolism.

it’s why he finds moonflowers so fascinating. there’s no grandiose meaning to them, they’re just a peculiar flower. they only bloom at night and when they do bloom, they die shortly thereafter. it’s a fleeting moment of beauty. lovely and slightly tragic.

he’d never expect you to get it for him. moonflowers aren’t native to Japan and the Japanese climate makes it difficult for them to grow here. that’s why he finds it odd that you’ve been spending an unusual amount of time outside. toiling away, saying it’s nothing more than a little gardening project to pass the time. he’d ask more, but he’s busy himself. it’s not until you drag him outside at night under a full moon that it hits him.

it takes him a moment to process it. there’s a trellis with moonflowers carefully laced between. emerald green leaves tell him that you’ve taken impeccable care of the plant. his first thought is “how?”; there’s no way you could house a tropical flower in this climate. but he brushes the thought away ― he’d rather not waste time on dumb questions like that ― and sighs, donning his signature smirk. ↳ “pfft, you’re that desperate to impress me? ...I’m teasing, obviously. I’m... honestly speechless, [Name]. you really are something else.”

josuke higashikata.

Josuke’s favorite flowers are cherry blossoms.

to be honest, if you asked Josuke what his favorite flower was, he wouldn’t know what to say. he’s not a big flower person. hence, cherry blossoms would be the first thing that come to mind. and while it sounds like a half-assed answer, it is true. sort of.

cherry blossoms remind those early spring days when his mother would take him to the park as a child. to Josuke, cherry blossoms are warmth and laughter. they’re the pink petals his mother would collect and drop on his hair. they’re the milk pudding his grandfather would bring him when he’d come home early from the station.

that said, he wouldn’t react much if you gave him a bouquet of cherry blossoms. he’d be flattered ― a gift is a gift ― but it wouldn’t go much further than that. you quickly realized that when you took a cutting and placed it behind his ear. (he was really confused; maybe best to save the theatrics to him.)

it’s not until you gave Josuke cherry blossom-flavored pudding that he melted. it’s favorite flavor! how did you know? all those memories would come flooding back to him, all teasings from his mother and evenings spent with his grandfather. and now, a new memory: sharing his favorite dessert with you. ↳ “whaaat, you got this for me?! gah, you’re too sweet... here, let’s share it. I can’t eat this alone.”

okuyasu nijimura.

Okuyasu’s favorite flowers are forget-me-nots.

like the other boys, Okuyasu never really had a favorite flower. he could acknowledge that some were prettier than others, but his botanical knowledge didn’t extend farther than identifying roses. that is, until you pointed out forget-me-nots to him while walking to school.

something about the name just... stuck. it really resonated with him. sure, the flower is pretty and all, but now he feels a pang in his heart whenever he passes by them. forget-me-not. he thinks of Keicho and his father every time he sees those baby blue petals.

it wasn’t hard to pick up on his silence. every day, there and back from school, his mouth would shut as you walked past the raised bed overflowing with tiny, blue flowers. and with his visiting Keicho’s grave more often, you could easily put two and two together.

needless to say, he cried when you placed a bouquet of forget-me-nots near his brother’s headstone. “so he’s never really gone,” you murmured, taking his hand in yours. you didn’t look at Okuyasu’s face. you didn’t have to. his squeezing your hand and his quivering breaths were enough. ↳ “th-thanks, [Name]... he... he would’ve really liked you, yanno.”

koichi hirose.

Koichi’s favorite flowers are camellias.

he’s the only boy who can name his favorite flowers off the bat. he can still remember seeing red camellia petals dance across the panels of his favorite shonen manga. a female samurai was confronting her evil brother, and despite all stakes being against her, she defeated him once and for all. it’s for that reason he thinks camellias are so. cool.

needless to say, Koichi associates camellias with being cool. sometimes he wishes he had a flashier stand to recreate the drama he’s read in manga, but he’d never admit it out loud. still, it’s not hard to tell. Koichi is used to being unnoticed. he still doesn’t understand why you’d pick him over guys like Josuke and Jotaro.

you try to show him your appreciation by slipping him small letters in his desk before class. some are notes of encouragement, some are long compositions of why you love him. this one is a drawing of him looking extra cool, with exaggerated bishonen features and a red camellia you clipped from Mrs. Tamura’s garden taped on. “to my favorite hero” is scrawled across the bottom.

Koichi is floored. you did this? for him? he can’t even comprehend that you were paying that much attention to his rambling. yet here he is, minutes before class, staring at a ridiculous picture of himself and his favorite flower taped on. ↳ “pfft, that [Name]... they really know how to get to me, huh?”

like this piece? here are similar works! 🌑 🌒 🌓

#duwang gang #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #Jotaro Kujo #Josuke Higashikata #Okuyasu Nijimura #koichi hirose #Rohan Kishibe #part 4!jotaro #part 4 #Diamond is Unbreakable #long post #Anonymous #kudos to whoever knows what series I'm referencing in Koichi's portion #it's something that came out long after jjba but I still think it'd be something he'd like!

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fipindustries · 3 years ago

Note

So I honestly kind of forget what your timezone is, this might be slightly early, but Happy Birthday!

So I didn’t have the time to read through any of the long stuff, sorry (picking my way through there’s a crack in the world now but no promises on how long that’ll take), but I did read a few of your shorter pieces! And since I’m trying to be slightly less predictable, instead of the Pale one, thoughts on The Agonist.

Okay first, to get the annoying comparison out of the way – you haven’t read A Practical Guide to Evil, have you? The whole thing about a stereotypical Dark Lord Of Evil valuing absolutely nothing more than being free was vaguely reminiscent of it. (On a separate note, when I first glanced at the title I thought this might be Baru Cormorant fanfic.)

More usefully

-Absolutely love the first few paragraphs, the whole zoomed out description of the war and the hero fighting his way up the tower and etc. Feels very, I don’t know, mythic? I don’t the, prose and cadence have the sense that they’d sound good recited aloud, sort of thing?

-I’m still not sure whether the mental image of the Lord casually walking down the giant pillar he was sitting on at a 90% angle is cool or just funny

-Not sure if the giant olive branches have any significance beyond irony, but they’re good for irony

-The bit where the Lord went from Capitalizing Every Word He Said to just speaking normally when he started actually considering what the hero said was good, but I’m a sucker for stylistic stuff that like. That said, feels like it would work better to make the switch after he removes his helmet? The first paragraph of speech without it is still pretty heavy on the grandiosity. (Also, somewhat mean to point out, but effect’s kind of undercut by a few typos in capitalization in the paragraphs around the switch).

-Speaking of personal appeal – do very much love the commander trying to stop him from walking away/the general sense of him abdicating as a betrayal to all his Evil Overlord obligations and responsibilities

-Does feel like should probably lay out the reason the Lord would be susceptible to the hero’s line of argument before it works? Like, even just alter the bit about him having no guilt about doing what he did to make the world work a certain way to instead/additionally be about him being free from any possible threat, demand, or higher power? Or idk.

-Does ‘Nihil Supernum’ have any, like, deep significance I don’t know? Google translate tells me it means ‘nothing supernatural’, and wikitionary says supernum means ‘heaven’, both of which feel like a non requiters.

-Was going to make a suggestion that the quote on the top could maybe use a bit of editing but hey ‘the eleven satanic rules of the earth’ are in fact a real thing and not something you made up

-The, I don’t know, feel of the ending is great. I mean endearingly grouchy badass + annoyingly chipper sidekick is an ancient dynamic for a reason, and I just love the whole ‘walking into the unset toward the next adventure’ vibe.

Anyway, that’s all very scattered and scattershot. But hey, glad I read it. Hope you have a great birthday!

Thank you so so much! So first of all i tried to read pgte but got really annoyed and bored with it and only got as far as cat going to the battle school but yeah the idea of the bad guy of evil that represents archetypical evil is certainly a popular one.

Also i wrote this way before reading baru cormorant so imagine my surprise when i saw that word show up there as well! And me thinking i was so clever for coming up with an original term.

Also you are not the first to point out that im good at mythological description (if you liked that you are going to love crack in the world) but i am extremely flattered by the fact that it makes you want to recite it out loud, to me tgat is the highest compliment there can be for prose.

Also all that you mention about the story sometimes being on the cusp of cool or funny that is 100% the balance i like to strike.

Nihil supernum i got from hpmor because is supposed to mean "nothing above" as if nothing greater, it was gil lamenting that this was the best the world could throw at him, he needed worthy opponents.

As for the ending, yeah this was meant to be a prologue and the main story would be the dark lord going on a tour of the ruins of his own empire, looking at the consequemces of his rule and having him reflect in a detached and bemused way how the hero desperatly tries to fix it all. He never learns any lesson out of this, by the end he is still as cold and indifferent ans all powerful, but most importantly: free

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rebellionbeach · 3 years ago

Text

HELLO apparently July 28th is the release date for Down to Earth therefore in honor of its 42nd birthday I wanna do a ranking of all the songs based on my personal preference of course.

(I’m only doing songs from the original studio release sorry no Bad Girl or Weiss Heim but they’re both sexy ;))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwCsMQWkN3g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7YOM4gx3RE (spark don’t mean a fire aka the alternate version don’t worry it’s beautiful)

8. No Time To Lose: Starting off this list we’ve got the second song off this record and it isn’t bad in anyway. In fact, it’s very upbeat and energetic, especially with Graham’s absolutely stunning vocals. However, compared to the rest of the list I feel it falls just a bit short. The lyrics themselves are actually pretty dark looking at them with examples such as, “It ain’t no lie, you’re hurting and you don’t know why.” Don’t know what Roger or Ritchie were going through but damn, anyway, musically the song is also very strong. The guitar riff is addicting but I feel it’s the combination of, again, Graham’s vocals and Cozy’s monstrous drumming that gives this song so much energy. Not bad at all from a song that’s at the bottom of a list.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P17ct4e5OE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v0bDfZytwk (Russ Ballard version, it’s really good)

7. Since You’ve Been Gone: Listen, I know many may judge this choice but I didn’t put this song at the bottom because of one, the sentimental value it has, and two, it’s not a bad song at all. Okay, it’s not the best as well but Russ Ballard made a beautiful song about heartbreak that is only made greater by this glorious lineup. I’ve actually listened to Ballard’s originally version and while it isn’t bad, I feel that Graham really helped cement this song and really put Rainbow on the charts. I especially enjoy the interlude section that drops into a sweet ballad type tone before dropping back into the chorus. Graham’s versatile vocals are well-equipped to amplify this song to a new level and not only that but without this song I probably would have never started listening to Rainbow. Although very commercialized and maybe too light to many, this song holds a special place in my heart and I do love it dearly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2XDORONuuY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmQBKq0d_-I (Cozy Powell mix, yes it’s exactly what you’d think it would sound like if the drummer was the producer)

6. All Night Long: The second real commercialized song on this album and honestly the last. However, where it differs from the other is that this song still has big traces of that hard rock attitude that Rainbow had emerged into. That simple yet beautiful riff that gets stuck in your head, Cozy’s powerful drumming, Graham’s powerhouse vocals, I mean what else do you really want from a song. Just from that opening riff you feel that rush of just pure hard rock energy shiver through your body. It really is just a fun hard rock song that, although may not be anything too complex, isn’t bad at all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeVFTeXs1o8

5. Danger Zone: Danger Zone always stood out to me as a very interesting and different song. Don is absolutely phenomenal in this song, especially his keyboard solo which Ritchie follows up upon to make a beautiful instrumental section. I’d be remiss to not mention Graham who hits at some of his highest parts here. This song really showed off the prowess of his full vocal abilities, hitting high notes with all the strength you’d expect from a hard rock singer. The actual lyrics of the song are quite beautiful as well I believe. Parts such as, “Don’t understand when you’re looking for a dame but it’s only a heartbreak away. And you’ll learn, faking has no return.” Really suspecting some mental instability from either Roger or Ritchie at this point...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8FcrH1lDeY

4. Eyes of the World: Many may be surprised why this song isn’t higher up the list but trust me, I have good reasons. Eyes of the World is definitely a highlight piece in this album and really is a final goodbye to the Dio era of Rainbow. The subject manner is very of that era and really feels like it could have been sung by Ronnie. I think to many this song helped alleviate the fears that Rainbow had gone fully vapid with it’s material (though we’ll see how that sentiment drags on throughout the next few years) Don Airey truly deserves the limelight here for that incredible keyboard intro that just sucks you into that dark world of evil. He really makes this song something truly special. Cozy Powell is phenomenal throughout all these tracks but especially in this track where he’s at his home environment and just listen to the interludes between the chorus and verse, just incredible. Then to our man of the hour, Graham Bonnet, he just absolutely kills it here. He puts so much passion and emotion into the vocals that I find it strange how anyone could possibly still doubt him as a suitable vocalist for the band. Ritchie’s solo here as well is probably one of my favorites off of this album just really makes this song something truly special. I often like to compare this piece to the Gates of Babylon or Tarot Woman to Down to Earth with an incredible keyboard intro and other-wordly themes of evil and darkness that make it a classic Rainbow tune.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU__fm6QFvk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzQZoOvzzNo (Ain’t A Lot of Love In the Heart of Me, it’s brilliant and honestly parts are somewhat better than the final version lol)

3. Love’s No Friend: I remember reading an article that talked about this song being Rainbow’s Mistreated. That description always had stayed with me and while I partially agree with the statement, I also think this song is very different from the former. Yes, both deal with heartbreak and emanates a grandiose sense of grievance from that sentiment however it differs in how that sentiment is delivered. Mistreated, as stated by Blackmore, is really just a guitar song. The relies both on David’s great bluesy voice that can conceive that anguish in his voice like no other vocalist can (love ya Dave) and Blackmore’s just heart-wrenching solo at the end which is probably one of the most emotional guitar solos I’ve ever heard. With Love’s No Friend I find that it’s more of a complete package having all elements of the band contribute to the piece. Not that but the lyrics are much more refined in this song. I often find Mistreated’s lyrics very stale and boring since they’re basically just “I’ve been mistreated, I’ve been abused,” and the only reason they get away with that is because of David’s incredible vocal performances. Trust me, Graham’s an incredible performer as well but these lyrics have much more substance to them and I feel just stands taller as a complete song. Speaking of Graham, this is probably his strongest performance in the album. You know what part I’m talking about if you’ve listened to this song but THAT part is just wow, that solidified him as one of my favorite vocalists of all time. The entire song is really just a masterpiece and really just stands as one of the best Rainbow tunes in my opinion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1LvViMLKNo

2. Makin’ Love - Oh this song, how can I express my love for this song in ways that I haven’t already before. Well if you didn’t know before, I put this as #5 on my top 5 Rainbow tunes and I still stick to it. Let me just say, this is one of my favorite intros to any songs ever. Don Airey is just magical in this entire album (and his entire career) but he especially shines here. The simple yet beautiful little touches he adds throughout this song really makes it so much more profound. That, once again, addicting Blackmore riff that just goes on throughout the song making the listener feel as if they’re going through a lonely yet sentimental walk down memory lane. It kind of almost reminds me of one of my favorite Rick Springfield songs, Written In Rock, in that manner. I guess I’m just a sucker for a pretty love ballad but man does Graham make it even better. The man just had the perfect voice for these types of songs (please listen to Will You Be Home Tonight as an example) and he’s able to convey those vulnerable tones in his voice while maintaining that strong hard rock attitude like I’ve seen no other singer be able to. I didn’t even mention the sudden shift during the pre-chorus that’s complimented with Cozy’s ferocious cymbal playing. Overall, I’m just a sucker for a nice love song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRLHHftZEJA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eRLQyXzZ1Y (the live Alcatrazz version because Yngwie is a cocky little piece of work and gets his guitar unplugged for 1 minute of the song, Graham is a beast here)

1. Lost In Hollywood - The magnum opus, probably not only the greatest Rainbow song but one of the greatest songs ever written and produced. I’ve already gone into detail about this song in my overall album review but just on first listening you can definitely tell that this song is something else. The energy, the tempo, is almost seems rushing like they’re running out of time on the record to give everything they wanted to show to the listener. The lyrics sort of remind me of Super Trouper (the Deep Purple one okay) if Super Trouper was an overdramatic and grandiose love ballad. It’s obvious that the song is talking about the overbearing nature of becoming famous and the sacrifices one has to make to get to the mantle. One of my favorite song lyrics of all time perfectly exemplify this through, “I’m gonna lose control, if I’ve been losing you to pay for rock and roll.” They’re lost in Hollywood, not just the actual place but the lifestyle that befits every star. I still think that Super Trouper as a song is a more profound piece on the effects of stardom as a whole but this song as well is beautifully written to talk about those themes in maybe not so personal manners. The song really is just a beautiful showcase of the talents that were the Mark 4 lineup of Rainbow and stands in my eyes as one of the finest pieces of music ever created.

Yeah, I’ve probably over exaggerated enough. Once again, I’m very biased here but I’m also speaking with my own tastes and experiences in mind. Despite the constant lineup changes, Blackmore always seems to find the most top-notch musicians and I believe this lineup truly exemplified that. It’s a shame that they couldn’t continue on but at least we got this album as a glorious reminder of what 5 musicians can do with enough talent and probably alcohol.

Also, the hallmark of all live performances: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5VPzJlUKVc

#rainbow #rainbow band #ritchie blackmore #cozy powell #don airey #roger glover #graham bonnet #well it's not july 28th anymore #i love this lineup dearly #graham is my ichibansan #look forward to the 28 page thesis on why graham bonnet was the best rainbow vocalist up next

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

Note

jack gets alex a birthday gift that's a simple mug that says "I love you" and alex is like aw cute, fast forward to after dinner they're cuddling with hot chocolate or whatever and alex sees jack has a matching mug that says "I love you more"

disclaimer, this definitely happened

read it here on ao3

Jack offers up the box with a grandiose gesture, and Alex graciously takes it out of his hands. “Is it a basketball?”

“Of course not,” Jack says. “You don’t even play basketball. It’s a baseball bat.”

“Duh,” Alex says, facepalming. Jack giggles.

“Open it,” he prompts, leaning his elbows on the table, face in his hands. It pushes up his cheeks and pulls his lips into a pseudo-smile. Alex takes a moment to appreciate his boyfriend, who is the most adorable person on the planet. As birthday boy, he thinks it’s his right to take as many moments as he wants. “Alex! Open it.”

“Okay, okay,” Alex says. Clearly he is not as entitled to boyfriend-appreciating moments as he’d thought. He pulls at the taped-down flaps of the wrapping paper, tearing it off to reveal an unmarked cardboard box. Tossing the wrapping paper aside, Alex opens the box.

“Oh, I fucking love this,” he says, freeing the mug from its container, and that’s when he sees the writing. The sheer fondness must immediately appear in his face. “Jack…”

Love you, says the mug, in big, golden cursive. Its golden handle matches; set against the white base of the mug, the whole thing feels decidedly sophisticated. “This is so cute,” Alex says, smiling so hard he knows his cheeks will soon hurt. He turns the mug around so Jack can see the front. “It says ‘love you’!”

“Yeah, because I love you,” Jack says, gazing at Alex with a megawatt smile of his own. “You like it?”

“Yeah, I fucking love it,” Alex says, beaming. “It’s so chic, I’ll feel like a king drinking my herbal tea every morning. And thinking of you.”

“That’s the goal,” Jack says. “I’m just gonna integrate myself into every part of your life until one day you wake up and realize I’m everywhere and you’ll never escape.”

“That,” Alex says, leaning over the table to kiss Jack, “sounds like a dream.”

—

“Hey, Alex, you want hot chocolate?” Jack calls from the kitchen.

Alex deliberates, then calls back, “Yeah, sure.”

Jack is responsible for the refreshments; meanwhile, Alex pries open the DVD for A New Hope. Real birthday privilege is getting to pick the movie, although in complete honesty, Star Wars is more tradition at this point. They watch this on Alex’s birthday and Home Alone on Jack’s. At this point Alex is pretty sure he has both movies memorized almost as well as his own lyrics.

The list of movies they intend to watch together is forever getting longer, but Alex is a sucker for a tradition. Especially when said tradition involves watching his favorite movie with his favorite boy on his favorite day. It's the full package.

A few minutes later, Jack emerges from the kitchen, a steaming mug in each hand and a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on the crook of his arm. Alex grabs the bowl as Jack sets both mugs on the coffee table in front of them.

“Be right back,” he says, and bustles back into the kitchen.

Alex reaches for the mug closest to him. It’s the one Jack had gotten him, and the gilded words gleam in the low light of the living room. Next to it on the table, though, is an identical mug, the same white ceramic and golden handle. Alex can even see gold lettering curling around the edges. He frowns and reaches for it, turning it on the tabletop. Did Jack get them matching love you mugs?

Except they’re not identical. Not quite.

Alex makes an offended noise as Jack returns, leaping over the back of the couch to settle in. “‘Love you more’? What the fuck is this?”

Jack sets their pint of chocolate ice cream on the table alongside two spoons. “Oh,” he says, poorly concealing a smirk, “that’s my matching mug.”

“It says ‘love you more’!” Alex says indignantly. “Which is categorically untrue!”

“Is it?” Jack wrinkles his nose in mockery. “Really, is it?”

“Fuck you, it’s the biggest lie I’ve ever seen in my life,” Alex says. “I can’t believe your birthday present to me was, like, a backhanded compliment at best!”

“First of all, it was only one of my birthday presents to you,” Jack says. “And second of all, giving you a mug that said ‘love you more’ wouldn’t have made any sense unless you had seen the first one. If you wanted the ‘love you more’ mug you should’ve thought of this first.”

“I’m a year older than you, my birthday is before yours, you dick,” Alex says, not that he would ever have thought to buy matching mugs, but it’s the principle of the thing. “This is slander and I won’t stand for it.”

“Uh, wrong,” Jack says. “If anything it’s libel.”

“Okay, fuck your semantics,” Alex grouses, crossing his arms.

“Al-ex,” Jack wheedles, leaning into him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It was just a joke. Don’t be mad. We’ll share the mugs anyway, so we can trade who loves who more.”

Alex laughs despite himself. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to pretend; even in real arguments, he can’t hold a grudge against Jack, and over something like this there’s no hope. “You do not understand how relationships work.”

“Au contraire, mon frère,” says Jack. “I understand perfectly.”

“Did you just call me brother?”

“I meant it in like a bro way. Look, it’s not important.” Jack waves away Alex’s chortling laugh. “What’s important is that you already told me you love me infinity, and I love you infinity, so I couldn’t love you more anyway because nothing is more anything than infinity.”

Somehow, Alex has managed to follow this sentence. Now he huffs a laugh. “Well, you know, some infinities are bigger than other infinities.”

Jack scrunches up his face in surrender. “I know that’s a fucking reference to something and I don’t fucking know what.”

“I can’t tell you, I’ll lose all my street cred,” Alex says seriously. He kisses Jack, and when he pulls away Jack smiles, eyes still closed, content. “I’m not actually mad. I actually think it’s really cute.”

Jack opens his eyes, but his smile doesn’t waver. “Yeah, you love me.”

Alex shakes his head slightly. His lips curl up and there’s a warm feeling in his chest. “Hmm, I don’t see any mugs that say that?”

Jack laughs. “Never mind, I take it back. I hate you. Would you play the movie already?”

Alex acquiesces and hits play on the remote. He snuggles closer to Jack, drawing his legs up onto the couch and leaning his head on Jack’s shoulder. “Okay, you got me. I do love you.”

Jack presses a kiss into his hair. “I know.”

“That’s not ‘til next movie,” Alex whispers, and Jack laughs.

“Fine, try again.”

“I love you,” Alex says, failing to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Love you more,” Jack says, innocent as anything.

Alex sighs happily. He’s got his favorite movie on the TV, the love of his life curled up next to him, and a pint of chocolate ice cream that’s just calling his name, all courtesy of Jack.

Just this once, Alex decides to let it slide. Jack has earned his right to the ‘love you more.’

#jack barakat #alex gaskarth #jalex #jalex fic #all time low #atl fic #fic #my fic #to be fair this is a dumb silly prompt #so i think it's okay that it became a dumb silly fic #thank you meghna as usual your contribution is invaluable #your ideas literally just vibe in my inbox for months #i've had this for FOUR months #four.#the passage of time.........who tf is she #reveriesofawriter #ask #answered

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

❪ TO THE MOON AND BACK! ❫

You use your one brain cell for love. It doesn’t always end well.

pairing. kth x named f!reader. jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating. non-idol!au. fluff, a bit of angst. general.

tags / warnings. none! this chapter is pretty sad but also pretty happy? “balanced, as all things should be.” - thanos, and also me.

wc. 3.9k

chapter 11.

“Are you ever going to do anything with them?”

You’re so focused on the melody that you don’t recognize the words immediately, his voice playing somewhere beyond your recognition. It takes a long few moments of staring at Yoongi’s face, his moving lips, for you to realize he’s speaking to you.

Headphones are tugged off your head and carefully returned to the stand at your elbow.

“Sorry?”

“I said ‘are you ever going to do anything with them?’”

It feels like you’re missing an integral part of the conversation. Forehead furrows, following the lead of your mouth as it purses, little indent forming between your brows. “With what?”

“The songs.” He doesn’t have to say much more.

“Oh.” Your lack of answer doesn’t seem to deter him, his expression politely interested, if not a little tired. You feel a pang of guilt for the fact that you’ve had such long nights lately - sessions passing the stroke of midnight more often than not.

While it wasn’t your fault, you saw the toll it took on him - found evidence of it in the bags beneath his eyes, heavy enough to incur an additional charge at the airport counter.

He refocuses your attention: “Yes? No?”

“I… don’t know.” You hadn’t considered it, honestly. The songs had originally been written to give your misery an outlet. You’d never considered what would happen to them once they were fully formed.

You’re also not sure why he’s asking. It’s been at least four months since you’d even thought about them. Now they sat in the back of your mind, tucked away in a dusty box labelled JUNGKOOK along with a hundred other memories you weren’t sure you were ready to face yet.

“Can I use one then?”

That certainly isn’t what you’d expected.

“What?” It catches off your teeth, shattering over your tongue. You wonder how you look - if the surprise is glaring beneath your skin like neon light.

Yoongi grins, low and slow and full of gums. He must mistake your emotion for something else - excitement, maybe? - because he’s joining you in front of the computer, the imprint of his body still worn into the soft leather cushions he’s just vacated.

The same instant he drops into the seat beside you, he takes over the mouse, flicking through file folders with purpose. “I’m working on a new mixtape. I thought one of your songs might work well on it so I took the liberty of recording some vocals and mixing it to see.”

In any other situation, you’d be preening from the praise. Now, it only settles discomfort in your stomach.

“I don’t know,” you repeat, finally, after what seems like forever. He’s already pulled up the audio file and the beginning notes fill the enclosed space, sinking into your ears. It sounds amazing, of course. Everything he touches turns to gold. His voice is distinct, the delivery of lyrics so masterful you still don’t really know how he does it.

You listen in silence, admiring the way he’s managed to lay your original refrain with his effortless rap. It thrums in a low bass - utterly brilliant - and then your voice starts.

It hits you like a ton of bricks then, two thousand pounds of weight dropping your heart into the pit of your stomach. You don’t expect the reaction to be so polarizing. You hardly realize you’re locked into place, gaze trained on some freckle in the wood grain of the desk, until you’re physically pulled from it.

A hand settles on your shoulder, hesitant yet unyielding. It frames the bone and squeezes once, twice. Yoongi’s voice follows, softer than you anticipate. “Are you okay?”

The question repeats on a feedback loop. It turns over and over and over until there’s nothing left but a distortion of your own voice in your head. Were you okay? You’d thought so. Now, you weren’t so sure. Hearing the familiar melody is like reliving those eight excruciating months all over again.

“It sounds great,” you answer earnestly, in a voice that wobbles with emotion - a trapeze artist barely hanging on. You’re not lying; you wish your voice wasn’t so feeble.

“You’d get full credit, obviously.” Yoongi’s trying to soothe the ache he can’t quite understand. Not that he hasn’t tried. After all, he’d helped you bring all of this to life. He’d already done more than enough.

“Oh, thanks.” It’s a little watery and a little weak but you’re laughing and that stretches an almost triumphant grin across the producer’s face. It splits the casual indifference he normally wears, throwing the roundness of his cheeks into stark relief.

You can’t help but smile yourself, however small.

Still, it’s enough for him. You’re past the one-two sucker punch and he’s nearly all business again, studying the screen now that he knows you aren’t about to start bawling. You have to hand it to him - he’s a professional through and through.

“Did you mind if I took a look at your notes? I’m thinking we might want to do some ad libbing but I wasn’t sure if you’d considered that.”

You don’t think twice about it, handing your worn notebook over. The edges are tattered and it’s nearing the end, only half a dozen blank pages remaining. All the rest are filled with nonsense: half-formed lyrics, melodies stuck in your head, and—

“Are these about Jungkook?”

The question quite literally knocks the breath from your lungs. It takes you what feels like ages to regain control of your own anatomy, your jaw falling and rising in tandem with the drawn out beat of your heart. It feels strange - like you’re moving in slow motion.

Laid out before you - before him - are pages you’d poured your heart into over half a year ago. You recognize them because of the dogeared edges and the almost concerning pen strokes decorating the margins. Half the time you’d been writing about nothing at all, just putting your jumbled thoughts onto paper. The lyrics had only come after that, once you’d word vomited as much as you could.

You know what he’s reading now - not the verses you’d brought to life, but the heartbreak.

“No?” You’re not a great liar. It’s never been an issue until now.

He doesn’t do the disservice of belittling you or questioning you on it further. Instead, Yoongi remains decidedly silent; the quiet isn’t quite like any other. It’s careful and considerate, formed by unspoken questions and curiosity he holds close. Almost as if he’s giving you time, he flips through the pages with the strangest expression on his face.

Even when he’s done, he says nothing - meeting your horrified stare with something close to compassion. (Or pity, but that feels a whole lot worse.)

He waits for you to speak first. You don’t.

Finally, because it’s almost suffocating now, he hands your notebook back to you. Two hands - deeply respectful. You accept in the same fashion and try to ignore the tremor that runs the length of your fingers, slotting the journal back into your bag.

“Does he know?” There’s no judgment, no expectation.

You have to hand it to him - he’s handling this spectacularly well. Far better than you would be if you’d found out one of your best friend’s girlfriends had history with another of your best friends.

“Sort of.”

It’s the first reaction he gives that feels like it isn’t restrained, carefully packaged and offered only after it’s been perfected. “Sort of?” It rolls incredulously off his tongue.

“It’s a long story.” You don’t mean how defensive you sound. It’s just hard not to when the wound has been festering for so long and you’ve let it turn to rot, weeds sprouting around the Jungkook-shaped sadness you’ve tried to cover with a sheet.

“I have time.” He doesn’t mean it in any way but comforting. It still doesn’t feel right.

You begin with fiddling hands and eyes that won’t quite meet his, bouncing around the room like you’ll find solace in the muted light or the KAWS figurines that line the side wall. “We met in school - second year. He asked if the seat beside me was empty.” You’re proud of the way your voice doesn’t break - how it steels itself through the acid that boils in your veins.

“We… were friends.” The word has never quite matched what you’ve felt for him, even now. But then? It didn’t hold a candle to the torch you’d carried. “He honestly became my best friend, or something like that.” You try not to get too lost in the memory, holding tight to the present with white-knuckled fists. “We did everything together. We visited our families. We went to Disneyland.”

Surprise fits itself into the sea of his stare, recognition flickering like a lighthouse. You wonder how much he knows - if the nameless girl in Jungkook’s stories finally has a face.

“We were inseparable.” The smile you offer is mostly playful, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I guess, except for when he was with you guys. But at some point, the friendship changed. For me, at least.” You fiddle with the long end of your belt, scraping indigo nails over the glossy fabric. “I never acted on it, though. I knew I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

“Then how…” It trails off but the question lingers, hanging in the spaces between you.

“You know how hard he works.” Yoongi nods - of course he does. “Our last semester was… a lot. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so stressed out. We kind of let loose once we submitted our final projects.”

The little puzzle pieces you’re offering are slowly taking shape. A part of you - the part that hates picking at the poorly healed wound - wishes you could take it all back. You’re so close to the climax of the story and yet, you know it’ll be lacklustre. It’ll fall miles short of the cinematic masterpiece you’re sure Yoongi’s expecting.

There will be no grandiose declarations of affection and no heartbreaking rejections.

“I made the mistake of asking him to spend the night.” Heat eats up every surface of your skin, starting at the apples and ascending up over your temples. “And then… I left in the morning.”

Seated not two feet from you, Yoongi’s quiet breath is far louder than he means. It puffs out of his cheeks in surprise. “What do you mean you left?”

Whether the warmth is embarrassment or shame now, you’re not quite sure. It all feels the same, red hot and humiliating. “I left a note on my pillow.” You won’t meet his stare even as you can feel it digging into your skin.

“What did the note say?” By the way he speaks, you think he has an idea.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“No, the note. It said sorry.”

If looks could kill, you’d likely be six feet under. You’ve never seen so much exasperation - not even on your professor’s face when you’d beg for an extension literally seconds before a project was due. “And what else?”

“Nothing?” You say it like a question despite the fact you know the answer.

He’s pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. You’re practically gnawing a hole through your cheek.

“Then what happened?”

“We didn’t talk.”

“At all?” Watching him grow incrementally more frustrated is like observing an overworked stay-at-home mom losing her cool at the supermarket. It feels bad, discouraging, but you can’t look away. Not even when he stares at you like you’re the dumbest person he’s ever met.

“I mean…”

His expression begs you to spit it out.

“He tried once or twice, a few weeks later. But I still felt so bad so I didn’t say anything back. And then he stopped trying.” You know you’d let the silence go on too long, allowing the awkward tension to mutate into something worse. You’re not stupid.

The longest sigh greets your ears. “You guys slept together and then you ghosted him.”

When he puts it like that, it sounds infinitely worse. You frown deeply, shaking your head. It wasn’t like that. It was different - necessary.

“I didn’t ghost him!”

“You left a sticky note!”

“Because I didn’t want him to regret it! I didn’t want him to feel weird.”

“You honestly thought leaving your so-called best friend a note was better than talking to them?” The way he utters the title makes you squirm in your seat. You shouldn’t be surprised, though. If you’ve learned anything over the last ten months, it’s that Min Yoongi does not mince words. Not when it’s important.

“I was scared.” It’s not an excuse; it sounds like one.

“Things are scary. You get over it.” He has a point.

“It doesn’t matter now.” Unfortunately, so do you.

“I guess not.”

FLASHBACK Friday, June 21, 2019. 12 PM.

When he wakes up, it’s like the end of the world - except not with a whimper, but with a bang.

The evil monkey that comes out of hiding after he’s had too much to drink is loud and unbothered, clanging its stupid gold cymbals hard enough to rattle his teeth in his skull. The sound bounces around in his ears, digging past his usual post-drinking haze to directly assault his senses.

Rolling over doesn’t help. In fact, it somehow makes it worse, the sudden motion bringing about a tidal wave of nausea.

The feeling rises and crests, threatening to swallow him whole when he rolls onto his front and yanks his legs up beneath him. Face pressed into the warm topside of the pillow, he curls his arms around the underside and takes three deep breaths, trying his best to alleviate the discomfort in his chest.

It works albeit poorly, like the second wave is coming, creeping up just beyond the horizon.

“Fuck.” It’s grumbled into the soft cloth he’s presently trying to suffocate himself with. Jungkook whines another sound - not as loud as the clattering in his head or even very clear - and presses deeper into the pillow, inhaling deeply.

God, he feels awful. You were right - he definitely shouldn’t have had so much to drink.

You.

The same you who had tried to go shot for shot with him over dinner, only to tap out when he wrenched another glossy green bottle open. The same you who had held his hand on the way back to your side of campus and laughed when he’d crowded you in the elevator, pressing sloppy kisses all over your neck and shoulders. The same you who had moaned his name so prettily he can feel it even now, stirring something in the pit of his stomach that feels a helluva lot better than the liquor-induced ache.

The you that should be at his side - and yet isn’t.

He blinks owlishly against the straining morning light, how it fades in through your half-drawn blinds and spills over your side of the empty bed. A hand reaches - slow, because he’s still not in full control of his motor functions - and slips over the cotton.

It’s cold.

Another blink, another pat of his hand.

He’s definitely in your dorm. There are photos strung up across the walls - taken by you or of you - and your familiar leather jacket is hung over the back of your desk chair. Your too-many coffee cups sit beside your keyboard but your familiar canvas backpack is nowhere to be seen.

“Jiyeon-ah?” It’s more gravel and sleep than anything remotely coherent. He tries again.

Silence settles in the enclosed space and he wishes it’d do the same in his head. Where were you?

The flat of his palm roves across your sheets, fingers seeking out the cold hard surface of his phone. Maybe he’d left it in his pants? That seems probable but they’re also not on his person, likely left in a pile at the foot of the bed - along with his underwear and socks - and well, he’s terribly lazy.

Lazy and still way too hungover.

So Jungkook lays there and waits, comfortable in the bed he’s been in more than once, more than twice, more times than he can count on both hands. He tosses and he turns, not quite patient but also not ready to face the day. He figures you’ll be back soon.

Truthfully, he doesn’t mind. Your dorm’s like a second home to him, somewhere he’s crashed a few too many times after you’d both trudged back in the dead of night after losing track of time across town. He knows the sweet spot on your shower - where he needs to get it right before the water turns from mild to scalding - and the fact that you hide your favourite coffee in a crate under your bed. It’s nearly as much his as it is yours, though he’s sure you’d disagree.

Either way, he could very, very easily fall back asleep. He almost does.

The nausea settles and while moving too fast stirs it uncomfortably, he’s doing a lot better than he normally does. It’s just this-side of relaxing, with time that doesn’t pass in screeches and lulls, rather simply sliding by in the transition of red numbers on your bedside clock.

It’s only when he realizes that it’s been nearly two hours that he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he should get up.

With an exaggerated grunt, he pushes himself to his elbows, entire body groaning with the effort. While he might’ve felt fine mentally, his poor aching limbs were doing decidedly less well. It’s almost like he’d been hit by a fourteen-wheeler loaded with booze.

He sways with the force of it, nearly faceplanting back down on your pillows when he sees it.

A little neon yellow square with your messy, rounded Hangul scrawled in black Sharpie. Three characters, one word, one broken heart.

Mianhae.

It comes when you least expect it, straight out of the blue. Your eyes are trained on the same colour that spills across the sky, the hazy clouds drifting in and out of focus; the sun is playing hide and seek, splashing rays of warmth whenever you pass between tall grey buildings.

“I love you.” Three words. That’s all.

They roll off Taehyung’s tongue as easily as a breath from his lungs, filling the spacious interior of his German-built sports car. There’s nowhere for the proclamation to go, caught between four walls and two bodies and your wide-eyed stare. Not that he can even turn to admire the way your eyebrows have shot into your hairline, how your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water. He’d still probably call you cute. You know him.

“What?” You’ve found yourself repeating this same word a lot lately. With Jungkook, with Yoongi, and now, with your boyfriend, who seems terribly smug and not at all bothered.

He’s staring straight ahead, focused on the road in a way that you know isn’t wholly natural. You’ve spent enough time in this car with him, with his hand gripping yours, to know that driving is second nature and he does it like he does everything else - effortlessly.

“I love you.” It comes without missing a beat. The edge of his mouth curls, revealing his perfectly straight white teeth, and you can’t miss the mischief. You’d feel wary if you didn’t recognize it so well, how it lights up his insides and spills out brighter than the sun above your heads.

You ask because it’s funny and not because you care. “Are you pranking me, Kim Taehyung?”

He levels you with a look then, one just from his periphery. You can hardly make it out amongst the dark of his lashes, the velvet that brushes over his eyes because it’s just a little too long now. The hand on your knee squeezes experimentally, the cold metal of his rings digging into the soft of your thigh.

“Is my love a joke to you?”

“Maybe.” It’s a challenge - a playful, proverbial pat on the cheek.

The sound he makes is a mix between a growl and a laugh and 100% adorable, sweeping affection across your face in stretches, apples of your cheeks pulling wide. “You’re lucky - I still love you anyway.”

Every time he says it, it’s a little less jarring.

“You love me.” You repeat it not for the sake of doing so but to taste it on your tongue, to feel its weight. It’s much lighter than you’d anticipated, spun fairy floss and strawberry-scented bubbles rather than a newfound burden. It fills you without expectation, fitting itself in the little cracks and crevices without demanding more. Still, you want to give in return. It feels right. “I love you, too.”

Just like you love the smile that spreads like wildfire, boxy and distinctly him. It’s so endearing you swear you feel your heart trip in your chest, lovesick and enamoured.

He says it more to make you laugh than anything. “I know.”

You roll your eyes and meet him over the centre console, grateful that he’s found his familiar spot right down the street from his parents’ expansive home. You appreciate the little moments kept just for the two of you; you cherish them more than you can say, tucking them neatly into your pockets and behind your ears.

He presses forward for a kiss. You smell like citrus and floral - Sicilian lemons and just-bloomed lilacs - a scent he thinks he’ll never forget. When he rearranges himself in his seat, turning enough to drag you just that bit closer, he’s greeted with the sticky sweet musk - tonka beans and neroli - hidden beneath the curtain of your dark hair.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve got dinner in ten minutes or you’re sitting in the brightly lit street like two nervous high school students after a first date.

This time is for him and for you - a celebration of sorts.

So he kisses you again, though it’s not quite kissing. It’s more like worshipping and he takes his time doing it, wordless devotion roving over every inch he can possibly reach. He treats you like a god or a deity, treasuring you like you might grant him his heart’s greatest wish or that maybe you already have. It’s nice to imagine that.

“I love your bedhead.” Which is where he starts, right at your temple. They’re the softest presses - barely there trails of his dry, slightly chapped lips. He inhales that familiar lemony scent as he deposits sweetness in its wake - over your eyelids and down.

The line of his nose meets the contour of your cheekbone and he’s littering tender kisses along the rounded edge, all the way up to your ear. There’s a beat of hesitation - a will he, won’t he - before he drops his head further, nosing past the sensitive spot where neck and shoulder meet to brush over the column of your throat. It’s almost innocent until enamel catches, not nearly hard enough to blossom any colour but enough to draw forth the quietest sigh.

“And I love the way you sound.” The lecherous grin he offers is far too handsome. It doesn’t pull disgust and reproach as it should, especially not paired with the dainty kiss to your wrist. He lingers there, over blue veins that jump beneath his touch, and only moves onto the back of your hand once you huff an almost imperceptible sigh of impatience.

You receive five more kisses - one to each of your fingertips.

“I just love you.”

author note. three more chapters to go. ty for reading, as always! xo

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archived-gtronpa-account · 4 years ago

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Hey @impytricky I saw a post of yours (I'll try to link it here when I find it again) about how annoyed you were to see Gonta 'fans' talking about how Kokichi should've died in chap 4 ! I agree with that and I just wanted to say, first, I'm glad I never stumbled across something like this, second,,, aah

Now, I love Kokichi and Gonta as much as the next person, and not the 'pure cinnamon roll Gonta' but the boy who's intellect is severely underestimated, who constantly gets babied for absolutely no reason and feels extremely inferior to his peers as a result. I like Kokichi and Gonta's relationship, how you can often find them spending their free time together (which I don't remember seeing in a previous game? I'm not sure) and how Kokichi (despite popular belief for some reason?) Was the one to treat him best in how he understood how smart Gonta really was and trusted him- like how he took his word about seeing tiny bugs and didn't brush it off as 'Gonta idiot' like the rest of the class. Grumble grumble.

Aaa but I'm not gonna go on a tangent for this since I know ur blog and I think we're on the same line regarding those two!

I just wanted to share an idea I had like, right as I was watching Gonta's execution for the first time, an execution for Kokichi in chapter 4!

Like, Kaito voted for Kokichi in the trial. But imagine if maybe Maki had joined him- like how she always sides with Kaito in scrum debate after he learns her real talent (I think? I'm not sure about this info) or if Tsumugi had voted for him to spice things up. And if for some reason, Kokichi had kept no rational sense at the end of that trial and was just completely crushed under the weight of his emotions and decided to vote for himself since he couldn't bring himself to vote for Gonta, even if too many people voted for him and he became the blackened right at that moment he really wouldn't care anymore and at least their plan would have worked and he wouldn't've had to live with his sin.

Anyway, that makes 3 votes for Kokichi, and the player's vote! So yeah I think it's abundantly clear now that I'm going for an alternate route where you -the player- vote for Kokichi and both he and Gonta are blackened. I've seen takes on this scenario and so far haven't found the gem among the stones- especially now that I'm imagining those Gonta 'fans' posts wanting to kill Ko out of spite, yikes. I just wanted to share my thoughts with a fan who's got taste wink wonk ;]

So: Monokuma stays unclear about the two blackeneds tho and just drags Gonta gets taken to his execution, except that unlike the normal version this time there's a those lock things on the metal chains and Kokichi jumps in to try to lockpick those and free Gonta.

Haha I've already got the scenario somewhere written I'm feeling a lil lazy lemme just copy paste it.

So imagine: Gonta is taken to be punished. He's attached to the pole and Monokuma walks in and the execution song starts. But then Kokichi runs in in front of Gonta and alter ego and fumbles with the chains to try and free him, Gonta panics and urges him to go back and not die and he's not the murderer and Gonta can't die knowing he couldn't even protect his classmate one last time only because of those chains. Such despair! Kokichi doesn't listen and desperately tries to get rid of the chains and pick the many locks one by one. Monokuma starts shooting the bugs at them and Gonta is still struggling to try to get Kokichi to move out of the way and Kokichi is growing nauseous from the bug stings and his face gets blue then purple in Danganronpa fashion and Monophanie's stomach grows bigger and bigger and just then Kokichi finds a last lock hidden between the chains he lockpicks it with shaky hands- but Monophanie's stomach bursts open and the lock clicks and right as it falls in Kokichi's hands the giant bug bursts out of Monophanie. Gonta pushes the chains off his arms and legs, falls to the ground, limbs finally free, and jumps in front of Kokichi with his back to the bug to protect him, but right as he's about to push him out of the way of danger the giant bug strikes them both, its his claw digs in their abdomens and they both fall to the ground. After a beat the wooden pole creaks and falls on their on top of their bodies with a heavy thump. Monokuma looks with disgust at the bodies still twitching a little and the nasty bug on top and he throws a match on the pole and everything catches on fire. The fire crackles and the music fades out and the image cuts to alter ego Gonta at their feet looking sad before his screen glitches and goes black and a dark grey puff of smoke comes out of it.

(Dramatic much, I know, but I'm a sucker for despair and tragedy.)

After that you get a shocked text from Shuichi who doesn't understand why Kokichi did that and something like how till the very end he confused them all with his lies (nothing much too grand and emotional, your typical killing game shuichi after chap 4 talking here). After that you get a weird disturbing ending like that of dr1, with a last CG of all the students aged up smiling at a camera, Maki and Shuichi holding up Kaito's portrait since he died of his disease, and with that awful music to disturb you further at the weird image and to really rub it in that you fucked up by being spiteful and voting Kokichi, bad choice you silly player.

I just kinda think it's a cool response to those who could hate Kokichi and get petty and vote for him- only to have a bad ending as a result and a surprise regarding Kokichi's character. I also thought of it as more of a Kokichi's execution, kinda like how it would have Kokichi elements: lockpicking, his leadership quality and how he puts his people before himself and is pretty selfless, also willingly putting himself in front of Gonta so he doesn't get bug stings- which is cool with Kokichi disliking bugs. And just how by being a petty hater you give Kokichi a somewhat peaceful death where he doesn't live with his sins, but you the player get a bad end instead as a result. On Gonta's side, I just like the despair of him ultimately dying unable to protect his friend.

All in all, I just thought it'd be a cool take on chap 4, especially with how… tasteless Gonta's execution feels to me. I also kinda just like this as a Kokichi execution that exploits some of his aspects well enough without being overly dramatic- like the many popular fan excutions I've seen that have him on lie detector forced to tell the truth about his intentions and how he cares about his friends and yadda yadda simp stuff- like, you should be able to see a Dr character's execution and not be able to tell if this character is important or not based on that alone; executions don't discriminate between the popular and the lame, so I think this is a fitting enough execution for Kokichi that works for his character, isn't too lame but isn't too grandiose. This has it's flaws for sure, like how that ending doesn't fit the fictional world reveal of chap 6 and some minor details, but ah, eh, uhm, you know.

I'm a sucker for discussions I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! Since you too have a respectable good view of Gonta and I think I saw a post about you thinking of a Kokichi execution? Aaa you know whatever I'm getting awkward now—–-

#Danganronpa #drv3 #kokichi #Gonta #execution #idea

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furyfought · 4 years ago

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abernathy is a small town, surely you’ve met AGATHA KLEIN ; they can be a little IRREVERENT & OPPORTUNISTIC but have no fear , the TWENTY SEVEN year old definitely makes up for it by being IMPISH & SENSITIVE . most of the time anyway . they’re usually seen around KLEIN & ASSOCIATES, LLC , as a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY . you know, i hear they’re affiliated with the local mc, iron kings as an ATTORNEY . they’ve got this vibe of A HEART GROWN RAVENOUS, A CYANIDE CENTER ENCAPSULATED BY SACCHARINE FRUIT, AND A SOUL IN THE FORM OF A SCRIBBLE WITH FANGS going on , makes them easily recognizable.

loosely inspired by jennifer check (jennifer's body), wendy byrde (ozark), ginger fitzgerald (ginger snaps), elizabeth sloane (miss sloane), john silver (black sails), & BBHMM.

+ pinterest, stats.

hey, friends. i’m devin (or dev) & very tickled to be here. agatha’s a combination of two of my favorite muses, and i can only hope that you’ll love her as much as i do. 🤎

"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐍𝐎. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓."

agatha’s story isn’t one that she likes to tell anymore. she feels it’s useless: to be defined by the actions of others, to attempt to battle the preconceived notions that run rampant regardless of what one says or does. she doesn’t want to beg for understanding anymore, or to claw her way from beneath the filth she’s made of her life. all that most know is all that she can bear to have known. the rest? it’s confetti; a meager concession in a game of chess. if you know her, is that a fact or a weapon to be used against her?

when it comes to the stories that can be told, however.. perhaps the most important is background. agatha’s an abernathy native: raised in grandiose park, flew the coop for college, only to settle back down in bordeaux apartments. klein & associates, llc. has been in her family for generations, each forefather serving increasingly questionable clients. agatha’s life, like that of many kleins before her, was already planned before she’d ever even been a thought in her parents’ minds. under her mother’s rule, there wasn’t any room for straying from that path. agatha would be smart; she would be clean; and she would be, without fail, someone. in other words, she would be her perfect replica. imagine the disappointment when agatha was anything but.

agatha’s childhood can be summed up by three things: a door slammed shut in her face, an ear-piercing howl, and the chronic longing to go home — wherever that was. it’s another thing she doesn’t talk about, another thing she tries not to think about. those three things have followed her into adulthood, but they’ve taken different forms now. no longer is agatha a child screaming her throat raw — no; now, she cries out in other more productive ways. if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that she’s a woman grown; the past is behind her, buried in the sand where it belongs. the truth is trickier, less absolute. agatha is a child in the form of a woman; forever in the midst of a metamorphosis, unsure if for better or worse. she lacks foresight & lives largely in the now. she can’t imagine a future for herself and her choices in life reflect that.

agatha succeeds because she’s pretty, powerful, and convincing. wherever she falls short, her father is sure to more than make up for it. it’s amazing what people will do for the right price, and when they want to keep certain secrets from ever seeing the light. nepotism & immense privilege have done wonders for her, but she does.. actually work hard, too. she has an incredible memory & is really good at digging for more information & making her case. if she tells you that she’s going to do something, then she’s going to do it right no matter what. she’s dogged in that way, blinded to the outside world by her stubbornness. she works long hours & values her career above all else. she thinks it’s the only sure thing she has & views it as the one stable, secure thing in her life.

agatha is lonely to the point of defect. she lacks a sense of security in her life, which is why she’s so career-focused. she genuinely thinks that the only person ever looking out for her is her dad. she becomes very predictable once you realize that she will always pick the winning team; that she will forever follow the money; and that she is always going to make the decision that most benefits her. that isn’t to say that she doesn’t have any friends omg, but.. she doesn’t really trust easily. if she trusts you and considers you near and dear to her heart, then she’ll choose you. but until she has that reassurance? you’re on your own, bro.

but like.. you literally would not know that unless you got burned by her. agatha is really good at listening and really good at playing parts for people. the thing with having no story is that she’s free to create her own. if you need a hero, she can be that. if you need a villain, she can definitely be that. she’s eerily good at getting chummy enough to make people think she’s close, only for them to realize.. they don’t actually know anything real about her? fun stuff.

i think.. her entire life is a vie for power while also wanting to let go of that desire while also being afraid of what might happen if she were to let go of that desire. she’s not tht bad. she can play decent, be a guy’s guy. and she does come off tht way. it’s jus.. underneath there’s tht like .. tht rot tht she can’t scrub away. n it rears its ugly little head smtimes. but. :^) she can be cool n shoot the shit u kno.. heheh.

anyway.. lighter stuff<3 puts the gaslight and gatekeep in girlboss. talks just like her daddy, except for when she’s in the courtroom. egocentric without ever meaning to be. (spoiler: it’s a smoke screen.) she can, must, and will find a way to twist your words into something she can make sense of. believes in mixed drink supremacy. will absolutely smoke all of your weed + play dumb about hogging the blunt. plays dumb a lot actually, until it’s time to be smart. she’s touchy-feely, but freezes up whenever someone touches her. stares — a lot. can’t ever be the person to pick you up after a rough night out, because she’s likely there with you egging you on to do one more shot. every event is a tits out event / she has to be the most overdressed person in the convenience store at all times. can, must, and will be your unsolicited sugar momma. YOU SPIL-DBFDHFDJHBF LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG? energy. thinks everything is a competition because it is. if she loved you once then she loves you forever. thinks going 20 over the speed limit isn’t speeding, actually. a bit of an emotional anarchist. can’t actually take what she’ll dish out. teases u if she likes u. teases u if she doesn’t like u. doesn’t care abt the feud as long as she’s gettin’ tht shmoney. big fan of an emotional sucker punch.

"𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋." + below are some ideas open to any & all muses no matter the age, gender, affiliation, etc !

i’ve left how she got involved with the mc totally absent from this intro bc i was hoping to plot it out! i’d love it if someone wanted to be her “in”. could be they were a childhood friend in need of help, a client she got close to, jus smth tht happened by chance.. whtever we come up with works! <3

if anyone needs an evil ex gf .. She’s Here. she will lie, cheat, scam, trash yr car, empty yr bank account.. whtvr you need, baybee<3

conversely.. not-so-evil ex gf? agatha can be nice & caring without there being a catch sometimes. maybe they still talk. maybe they’re friends. u tell me.

fwb / ex fwb? she do be sending them ‘u up?’ texts.

someone tht agatha only got close to bc she wanted them to testify/be a character witness in court oopz<3

omg actual friends pls.. ppl tht Know her. tht See her. ppl tht she cares abt n would actually do anything for. friends!!!!!!!!!!!!

agatha has “get off my lawn” energy so i think it would be very funnie if someone needed a place to crash n she let them stay at hers thinking it was temporary n then they jus.. did not leave. n she’s like 🤨 hello?

an almost smth? anything weird n awkward n unspoken tht maybe fizzled out or maybe still lingers under the surface?

agatha doesn’t have a budding drinking problem but if she does no she doesn’t but if she does then<3 drinking buddy? someone that she’s gotten into questionable shenanigans with? poor bartender tht has to deal w her trying to “help” them as she waits for her uber to come? the possibilities are endless.

agatha’s all bark n very little bite but i still think it’d be funnie if she had a hateship. jus putting tht out there<3

if yr muse wnts an ego boost via unrequited crush.. lmk. i’m willing to hulk smash all of agatha’s dignity jus for u.

omggg a dealer? >.> who said tht omg #hacked..

on n off again thingz? lorde wrote tht "i am my mother's child i'll love you til my breathing stops / i'll love you till you call the cops on me" line abt her</3

budding friendships!!!!!!! ppl tht she goes to pilates or yoga with; people she gets brunch with; ppl she keeps running into n its like heeey u :); little platonic crushes jus . all of the cute platonic thingz tht make her go wtf is this 🤨.

i mean.. if anyone wants a sugar momma.. I MEANNN..

college friends!! law school friends!! ppl she met over the summer while interning somewhere!! i left tht purposely vague, hint-hint.

tinder dates gone wrong. ghosted tinder dates. tinder thingz.

agatha’s been attending galas / banquets / office partiez for ages now so if anyone wants to be her plus one or her lil fake date... :^) could be cute. cld be angsty. world is our oyster.

speaking of which.. coworkers n maybe even a lil personal assistant would be so sexie.

#abernathyintro #omg arriving unfashionably late thirty yrs later. >.>#[vine vc] heeey.. . ..#nt rereading this. simply not strong enough. if there r errors then no there aren't<3

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whirlybirbs · 5 years ago

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⋆ ---- CARHOP COOL.

summary: you know steve harrington, sure. are you suprised when your best friend, robin, brings him and her new friends to your place of summer employment? definitely. pairing: steve harrington x reader, post season three word count: not enough, honestly. a/n: i’d like to thank not only god, but joe keery’s hair

MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⤍

“Dude.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?”

“... Okay, he’s sometimes, like, the dumbest person I know but he means well --”

“Robin, he bullied the shit outta me in the fourth grade -- he called me four eyes and I didn’t even have glasses.”

You cross your arms, face immediately pulled into a look of despair as Robin slings an arm around your shoulders and snaps her gum with a sigh -- before you is the aforementioned bully, engaging in an overly complex handshake with the one and only Dustin Henderson by the back bumper of Nancy Wheeler’s station wagon.

In the blue light of the August evening, there’s a crowd gathered of familiar faces. Jonathan Byers, his brother, Nancy Wheeler, her brother, a few younger kids you recognize from the halls of Hawkins...

And Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, illuminated by the drive-in diner’s neon sign over the back of your shoulder.

“I can’t go over there.”

You rock back and forth on your pastel pink roller-blades. Your Roll-o’s carhop uniform, comprised of a matching pink and blue collared shirt and miniskirt, is a plain old mockery and despite Robin’s insistence that it’s “cute”, you can’t help but feel like an idiot as you clutch the tray of orders for the group of kids hanging out by the new hatchback.

“He’s changed, I promise,” Robin says gently, shaking your shoulders, “I swear, he’s cool now. He... He even knows -- y’know, about me.”

You narrow your eyes on the big haired kid in question. Protectiveness flairs at the idea of him being anything but nice to Robin knowing that much. Your friend adjusts the company policy hat on your head. You’re skeptical. “...And?”

“And he’s sweet about it,” she says genuinely, voice going a little sing-song, “C’mon, it’ll be fine. If you’re with me, you’re cool. I promise. I’ve talked enough about you --”

You spare Robin a look, sigh and push your shoulders back.

“Fine.”

Steve almost doesn’t recognize you.

It’s been -- I mean... It’s been a three months since graduation but it’s been longer since he’s even looked at you. One distinct memory flies to the front of his mind from Freshmen year, when in Mrs. Cortez’s class, he launched a spitball at the back of your head during the Spanish II final while Tommy H. cried he laughed so hard.

Steve cringes.

“Guys! This is my friend,” Robin jogs up alongside you as you stop before the gathered group; her voice dips into something grandiose and charming as she sports spirit fingers, “Queen of Roll-o’s herself, a menace on wheels --”

“Sick blades,” chirps a younger girl with fire red hair, balancing on a long board, “Are those yours?”

You blink, mouth parting. “Oh. Uh, yeah, I just got new wheels --”

“They match,” Robin grins, gesturing to the whole outfit, “Like I said, Roll-o’s Queen.”

“Part-time seasonal Queen.”

Nancy grins, giving a small wave from beside Jonathan. She leans on the bumper -- she’s always been nice. Her and Barb. “How’s your summer been?”

You roll back and forth, shrugging with a polite smile. “Boring. You?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nancy laughs, hinting at something you miss, “Super boring.”

Robin seems to snicker, sharing a knowing look with the rest of the group -- she leans, muttering something about how she’ll fill you in later and leaves you with a lot more questions than answers.

“Riiiiiight, well, here’s, uh, here’s the orders -- uh, who had the Double Chunk Snickers Swirl?”

Steve freezes.

He’s been kinda busy through all this, sucker punched in the jaw by how shitty he was in high school -- and... I mean, K through 12, really. He’s busy staring at you, wondering if you’ve been this pretty all this time. You had a perm for a while which, really, wasn’t the best look, but... I mean, c’mon, did popularity really blind him for that long? Maybe Dustin had a point. And Robin. And... like, everyone.

Dustin elbows him so hard in the side that Harrington jumps six feet in the air.

“Oh!” he clears his throat, “That’s me. Hi. Sorry -- uh, hi.”

You bite back attitude, feeling Robin’s eyes on you. “Hi, Steve.”

Oh, Steve reads that ice cold look from miles away. He shrinks, sheepishly offering an apologetic grin and takes the frappe from your hands.

“I, ha, I couldn’t resist. It’s so good, right? I mean, you must know that already because you, uh, work here. You work here.”

You narrow your eyes. Steve wavers.

"Mhm.”

Robin nudges your side. You ignore it, moving on to hand out the rest of the orders. When you’re finally done, you move to tuck the tray under your arm and try your best to ignore the burning stare of Steve Harrington.

Is there something on your face?

You slip him a look as Robin speaks. Your eyes connect for a millisecond and you both shove it away.

“You should definitely come with us to the beach next week,” Robin says to you, slinging her arm around your shoulders as she sips her milkshake. She speaks with a full mouth of malt, “It’d be fun!”

“I don’t wanna intrude --” you blink around the group who all seem to be busy enjoying their ice creams.

“No, no,” Nancy says, grinning as she waves her spoon, “It’d be nice to have another girl around.”

“And someone who understands D&D.”

You gawk at Steve, the one who said it with a surprising lack of mockery, then back at Robin.

Betrayal crosses your face as you whisper, horrified, and shove Robin lightly at the exposure of the untold hobby between the both of you.

“You told them?”

“Listen,” she says, raising a finger, “That campaign was good! And Steve the Paladin over there needed some pointers --”

Your jaw drops.

Steve looks like a deer in headlights.

“You play D&D...?”

Steve’s whole face goes rosy. He digs his spoon into his flurry.

“Uh... Yea, I mean -- listen, it’s Dustin’s fault --” he stutters, jutting a thumb in the direction of the curly haired camper, “And... uh, if you came to the beach, I could tell you all about my character, y’know? If... If you want.”

You blink between him and Robin.

“... Fine.”

She cheers.

“But, I’m driving.”

#carhop cool #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington reader insert #stranger things imagine #joe keery imagine #heheheheheheheheheheheh OOPS

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coldpeachsoju · 5 years ago

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M-may I request something? 👉👈 something like prosciutto helping a poor lost tourist and being a gentleman and showing her around Naples 😳 (or alternatively, new dad prosciutto looking after his new born while his partner recovers)kfkfkerk (இ﹏இ`｡)

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG SKJHF I KINDA WENT CRAZY STUPID W THIS BC PROSCIUTTO 😳!!

both prompts are good and tbh that alternative might be a part two to this 🙈

hope you enjoy !

Prosciutto helping lost tourist Reader

Prosciutto was bored.

His cold eyes glazed over the scenery before him as he rested against the adobe wall of a local cafe, previously having a coffee inside not too long ago. He studied the array of shops and buildings that lined the streets, kids running down the sidewalk playing tag, hearing their laughter and shouts. The florist across the street was conversing with one of the women that lived in the building next to his shop-Prosciutto couldn’t make it out what they were saying exactly so he played out a conversation in his head where the poor man was trying to sucker her into buying something through some two-faced lie. It wasn’t too warm today, not too cold either- it was the perfect weather to go out today.

The hitman wasn’t having any of it though. No new missions, no errands, he hated it. He had forgotten the monotony of a simple life, he wondered how it was that people managed to do this, to just go with everything that came and live without a care.

A smirk crept on his lips as he spotted someone across the street squinting down at a map, watching them look up here and there at the street signs before groaning in frustration. Classic tourist, Prosciutto thought before turning the gears in his head. A light went off in his head, maybe this would be a fun little routine breaker.

He puts his cigarette out beneath polished shoes before stuffing his hands in his pockets and making his way over.

Across the street, you were completely lost as to what direction you were supposed to be going. You had a destination, but the streets were a lot more confusing than what you were used to, even after spending a few days in Italy at this point. You looked around for a moment to ask for help, paying no mind to the figure making his way towards you before you sigh in defeat and lift up the map to look over again.

“Ti sei persa?” A smooth voice breaks you out of your jumbled plight, causing you to snap your head up towards whoever it was. As soon as you meet this man’s cool blue stare, your breath hitched in the back of your throat. Not a single blonde strand of hair was out of place and he fit in that patterned suit quite nicely. You had seen plenty of attractive men on your trip so far but he had stolen first place with just one glance.

Prosciutto wasn’t expecting his heart to skip a beat when you lock eyes, his first thought being ‘cute’ when he gets a good look at your face. Your curious, lost stare with furrowed brows and lips parted in confusion was absolutely adorable to him. He regains his train of thought and clears his throat, breaking the silence between the two of you, “Sorry.” He chuckled before repeating himself in English this time, voice coated in an accent that wasn’t too heavy, “Are you lost?”

You took a second to find your words, unable to process that this very attractive stranger was offering you a helping hand. It felt too much like the beginning of some cheesy romance movie. “Oh-uh, yeah.” you managed to cough out, directing his attention to the map in your hands. “Can you help me find this restaurant? One of the staff at the hotel recommended it to me.”

His eyes glaze over the area circled in pen on your map before he shakes his head and tuts lightly. “I know a better place. That one isn’t bad, but they like to trick pretty little tourists like you. Come, I’ll get you a good deal.” He shot a wink towards you, knowing damn well that he’s got you in the palm of his hand. “Call me Prosciutto, what’s your name?”

He offered you his arm to take, which you gladly accepted, linking your arm with his and telling him your name before whisking you off on an impromptu tour. The alarms were going off, hollering in your mind that this man could very well be dangerous, but he had managed to sweep you off your feet within a minute and his handsome looks made you swoon. The way he had smooth talked you into going with him, his nicely pressed suit that you didn’t doubt being a designer brand, his exposed chest-you were instantly hooked.

The blonde knew Naples like the back of his hand, impressing you greatly and you internally thank fate for handing you such an attractive tour guide for free. He weaved through the streets with you in tow, guiding you away from any tourist traps you were sure you would’ve fallen for. You’re enamored with all the information he’s giving you along with all the sights around you, admiring the colorful architecture and the rich history of the city.

Once the two of you arrive, you’re instantly seated at a table and it appears the staff holds Prosciutto in high regards. They’re most attentive to the two of you, greeting you with a warm welcome when they see him by your side, and offer their best wines and put in a special order to the chef. The restaurant isn’t too flashy or grandiose, it has a homely and warm feeling to it, and you understand why Prosciutto had taken you here. Families are enjoying a meal together, laughing and catching up with friends and neighbors they happen to run into here.

While waiting for the food, Prosciutto takes a moment to ask some questions about you and in return, reveals the bare minimum about himself-at least, to your knowledge. His interest grows the more you talk about yourself, and knows that this has gone a lot farther than he expected. He isn’t complaining though, as he asks about where you’re from.

Prosciutto adores the excitement that went ablaze in your eyes as the two of you engaged in a conversation about your countries. The way you gush about your hometown has him say, “Maybe you can show me around in the future.” The idea of taking Prosciutto around your home turf has you going red in the face and taken aback for a moment.

“I’d love to!” you declare a little too eagerly, finally forming a response. He leans back, amused as the food arrives and the two of you enjoy a meal together. Prosciutto pays for the whole lunch afterwards, catching you off-guard slightly even after you insisted to pay at least half of the bill.

“All apart of the tour package,” He quips, “my services aren’t free.” He holds back a laugh at the aghast expression that takes over your features, “I’m joking. I’ll walk you to your hotel.” There’s more to that offer, you can tell by the more flirtatious tone his voice takes as the flustered heat in your face rises for the hundredth time again and you regain your composure.

You link your arms with his once more, both of you becoming fond of the company of each other.

Prosciutto brings you to your hotel, as he promised, getting your hopes up further as he offers to take it a step further and walk you to your room. “Just making sure that you’ll be safe. Naples can be dangerous if you’re not careful.” he elaborates, your thoughts grow wilder by the second.

The silence on the way to your room is almost killing you, unsure if he’s been teasing you or not. You really hope he’s implying something by bringing you back, especially after the time spent with him today, but you know it’s not likely he’d act on anything. The way he looked so gentleman-like too wasn’t helping. When you get to the room, you turn to him with a flushed face after unlocking the door, “Would you like to come in?”

You’re a little let down when he politely declines your offer, “I’d love to, but I have a meeting soon.” You curse yourself for getting your hopes up so quick. You quickly perk back up when he speaks up again. “Will you be around here for long?”

“It’s my last week in Italy.” You admitted, heart dropping when you saw a hint of disappointment flash across his features. Your eyes darted around the inside of the room for a pad of paper and a pen. “Hold on.” You spot them laying atop the bedside drawer and rush to write a few things before tearing off a piece of paper. You hurry back to the doorway and hold the torn parchment out to him. “Here, take this.”

Scrawled in your handwriting was your email and phone number to your hotel room.

“I really want to see you again if that’s okay.” You admit, wanting to know him a little more before you had to leave, watching him stare down at your writing.

“It’s fine with me, I was hoping to show you the frescoes at the cathedral.” he replies, looking back at your hopeful expression. “See you soon.” He turns on his heel and leaves the hotel as you sit in anticipation for your next encounter together.

The blonde man looked at the scrap of paper in his hand fondly before looking up at the blue sky, watching the clouds go overhead, and making plans in his head to make it a trip the both of you would remember.

#dokidoki-tae #my writing #prosciutto #prosciutto jojo #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba imagines #la squadra #fluff #ITS 5AM LMAO #PROSCIUTTO HOURS 24/7

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harrysdimples · 4 years ago

Text

evermore track by track review (reaction?)

you know what time it is babieeeeeee......

willow

lovely little plucky guitar. I like the piano arrangement in the background. her vocals sound really lovely in the chorus and in the back of the second verse. i’m going to try and judge this as a separate project from folklore because it’s supposed to be just a complementary project but inevitably there will be comparisons. the 1 as an opening track is probably my preference over this I think on first listen. the bridge (?) is probably my favourite part of the song before the 90s trend line lol (just takes me out the song, kinda like the tweet line that’s in the lakes) but her vocals and how mature her voice sounds are just really light and airy and it’s nice to hear. but this is a lot more rhythmic than most of folklore which is something I appreciate and has enough dynamics so that you’re not bored, although the outro could’ve maybe been shortened a bit (but that’s a nitpicky thing lol). that’s her man!

ok I realised half way through happiness that I HAD PUT THE ALBUM ON SHUFFLE BY ACCIDENT WHICH IS BLASPHEMOUS AND SOMETHING I HATE DOING. I apologise sincerely lmao every song after this is in order with the album track list.

happiness

love a synth. ‘I can’t face reinvention’ ok bitch call me out ??? the lyrics are very lovely, as always. what’s/who’s this about ? lmao. it’s very pretty but not sure it’s going anywhere? more instrumentation could’ve maybe elevated this song just because I feel the lyrics are so flowery and beautiful that they deserve to either be in complete isolation (like from the dining table’s production) or some grandiose orchestral arrangement to properly show off how great and genuinely heartbreaking they are. I have no doubt at some point i’ll lie in the dark at some point and sob to this though loooool.

champagne problems

ah bitch. the opening line already got me. again, the lyrics on this one are cutting me deep and I really like the production in the second half of the song, it really picks up the song when I was worried the production wasn’t going to be for me. the background vocals and harmonies are lovely. I think the lyricism of this song is so important and reminds me of what jack said in the long pond sessions about people with mental health issues never receiving proper recognition for just doing as okay as they can be because to other people, it’s either not enough or they just don’t get how difficult it is to maintain that level of ‘normalcy’. The idea of people dismissing things as ‘champagne problems’ is so poignant when you think of the fact that so many people disregard mental health issues until they’re directly affected by it in some way and treat others as outsiders/bad apples/something to only remember as a cautionary tale and to be forgotten otherwise. the numbness of trying to feel things (like going on the train) and participating in life and trying to believe that you deserve something good, a relationship, love etc but knowing that people are only waiting for you to fail so they can inevitably move on is so sad. my favourite out of the 3 tracks so far.

gold rush

good old jack antonoff production. girl how many people are wanting to get with joe ???? I really like the lyricism again, and the ‘what must it be like to grow up that beautiful’ bit kinda reminds of olivia’s instrumentation for some reason lol. I wish this hit a little harder because it’s on the precipice of greatness but doesn’t get quite there for me, kinda like the archer. loved the production, but I had anticipated it to have this big build up which it didn’t quite hit for me. I am listening to this currently at night with my blinds shut but I know that when it’s in the daytime/sun this will sound so good, so i’m excited to replay this one. update: it’s the next day and I LOVE this.

tis the damn season

hm. this one was pretty middling for me i’m ngl. I don’t think i’ve had enough love/life experience to really relate to this that much (which isn’t taylor or the song’s fault obvs) but I found it hard to ~connect to and the production didn’t really excite me enough to feel too passionate about it. very much enjoyed the “So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends, Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it” line though lol!

tolerate it

I really like this. really encapsulated the feeling of trying your hardest to meet someone’s expectations of you/your relationship and fitting yourself into parameters to suit their needs/what they want and yet you’re still considered on the outskirts of their life. Trying desperately to make that person care as much as you do for them, but in reality your actions just further the reasons why they don’t want you and why your actions are ignored/silently belittled. Feels like this is a good companion piece to a lot of the folklore tracks and could’ve fitted on that album yet is still different enough to stand out. will def be coming back to this.

no body, no crime (feat. HAIM)

ok so taylor’s having her before he cheats moment?? someone should be working on a mashup asap. you know i’m a sucker for country yeehaw bops so i’ll definitely be playing this on repeat lol, so far probably the most upbeat track along with gold rush and this is probably my favourite track so far. the storytelling through the lyricism is fabulous and I really love the little production elements like danielle saying “she was with me dude” lol, I don’t have a lot of experience/references for “real” country music so if this is a little corny idk but I like it anyway lmao

dorothea

this was a sweet song, might be completely off the mark with this interpretation, but I sort of viewed this as taylor speaking to her younger self and telling her how she can always go back to who she was after becoming too enchanted with fame and the troubles that come with it/experiencing the consequences of fame, and that inevitably it’ll be okay in the end. a nice reassuring, pleasant song. not sure how much replay value it’ll have for me personally but I appreciate it :’)

coney island feat. the national

I like this for the most part. I think it’ll be a grower but I can see this moving up in my ranks once I listen to it a bit more. the second half of the song after the bridge is definitely better than the first and I really like it, but the first half isn’t my favourite. I think within some of the lyrics there are some clunky lines and I’m not sure how well the dueting partner works (idk if that’s aaron dessner or someone else?) but I think another softer (?) male voice could’ve gone better with it, or just taylor herself. the instrumentation and production on this song is fantastic though and I really love the bridge (although the idea of joe and taylor coming together to write about all of taylor’s exes makes me lol)

ivy:

the chord progression really reminds me of like 80% of folklore and idk if this track was “necessary” even though she’s perfectly entitled to her art obvs. but in the context of the album idk if this was needed, probably the most filler-like of all of them so far (for me personally). it’s sort of like a long poem to me and the subject matter of infidelity is always interesting when taylor covers it, but idk, this didn’t do too much for me on first listen

cowboy like me

this feels like a movie or video game soundtrack song, I always appreciate a good guitar solo and the instrumentation in this song is great. I don’t know how much this goes anywhere until the bridge but I love the line “now you hang from my lips, like the gardens of babylon, with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con”. I think this has the potential to be a major grower on me though purely bc of how melodic it is and how “vibey” it is.

long story short

yeah this wasn’t really for me. I can appreciate it’s objectively a well produced song with some good lyrics, it just didn’t really click for me sadly upon first listen.

marjorie

yeah so this made me sob. as some of you may know I lost my grandma two weeks ago suddenly so...yeah, this song just really hit me. this is a beautiful track.

closure

what is going on here on this day lmao? reaaaaaaallly not a fan of the production and the synthetic (?) drums that were used on this track and I don’t think the use of repetition in the chorus’ lyricism really works that well here. idk it just feels a little unfinished to me

evermore feat. bon iver

I think this is too lyrically dense for my brain to properly intake after the long road it took to get to this track lol so I think i’ll need some time with it. I don’t think bon iver’s addition works as well as exile but I like the second half of the song which he’s in, in comparison to the first half, it does kinda feel like two songs put into one though. taylor’s vocals sound nice though.

in conclusion:

favourites: tolerate it, gold rush, champagne problems, no body, no crime, marjorie

in between/grower: cowboy like me

meh: tis the damn season, willow, doreathea, evermore

didn’t really like: ivy, long story short, closure

I feel like i’m going to be crucified for saying this but this feels like a lover-fied version of folklore ajfkhsas if that makes ANY sense to anyone but my own brain. I said when I did this same kind of post for folklore that the album did what the concept for lover tried to do (the love letter to different kinds of love) 10x better and I was happy to see this kind of direction from her. I still love folklore and I think it’s a true piece of art and it ranks high in my tiers of taylor albums, but this just kinda misses the mark for me for the most part (on first listen). It’s very lyrically dense, which is nice, but much less accessible than folklore to me in terms of melodies and the overall structure of some of the songs, which is again, fine, but not necessarily what I had anticipated going into this album and generally usually isn’t my thing. for all that i’ve said about jack’s production in some songs on previous albums of taylor’s, his presence here is missed imo. I’ve expressed that I don’t particularly enjoy long albums because eventually the flow of the album is lost, and that is true here. around the ivy/long story short stretch it kinda loses ground which is a shame because there is some beautiful lyricism in there, but it’s even more susceptible to risking being brought down by the sequencing when it’s a sister album to another project and will end up being compared to that and the tracks there. given the style of music this is in, the fact that it’s a sister album and so long, it’s got a lot against it and I don’t know if it manages to overcome those hurdles for me personally. It’s like what harry said about sequencing, the track listing is so important imo to the purpose and arc of the album that you want to tell and I feel like there could’ve been a lot more “editing” of this project to make it stand up to the highs of folklore imo, or potentially editing down folklore to combine it with some of the really strong tracks on evermore like goldrush, no body no crime etc. I don’t know if the narrative of this album is unique enough to stand against folklore and some of taylor’s other albums for me. I will be returning to these songs for sure, but the sequencing and overall structure of this album kinda lets it down. I can’t help but ponder if this album will age well in comparison to folklore, or both albums will age well with the narrative fuelling it being created in quarantine and as a product of boredom. if folklore wins AOTY at the grammys (which it seems it’s secured to at this point), it’s going to be tied to the “corona year” so it’ll be interesting to see where these projects end up and how well received they are in years to come vs taylor’s other projects and how they’ve aged. we’ll see! i’d probably give it a 7.5/10 in comparison to the 9/10 for folklore.

#ruth rambles #taylor swift

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chaotic-donut · 5 years ago

Text

War Council

Mala carried her helmet under her arm as she walked through the camp, her medals of rank clinking against her chest as she did so. She found them awkward and typically never wore them unless she was forced to attend a dull military ceremony. She believed that she didn’t need medals to distinguish her, her actions as a captain could do that. As the clinking continued against her chest, Mala had arrived at her destination. It was the largest tent in the camp, it needed to be if was going to hold everyone in this meeting.

She pushed through the entrance and found herself faced with the unpleasantness of an Imperial war council. The air in the tent was thick and far too warm for the armor she was wearing. Every Colonel, Major, and Captain on the planet was here. They sat in several rings on the ground, murmuring amongst themselves. Mala stood, admittedly awkwardly, in the entrance before she caught sight of a certain Major’s familiar face.

“Sheila!” Mala called as she made her way towards the Major. She sat herself in the dirt next to Sheila, placing her helmet in her lap. The Major waited for Mala to get settled before she spoke.

“Captain Parekh, we are in a war council, you will refer to me as Major Martin.”

“Yeah I know, but the thing hasn’t even started yet. Can’t you just relax a little?”

Sheila did not respond. There was a long silence between the two. Mala sat waiting for the meeting to start. Time continued to pass, the ground became more uncomfortable and the air became thicker. Mala fervently readjusted herself and clawed at the neck of the armor.

“God I hate these things.” she finally broke the silence, “Can’t they at least give us chairs to sit in? Why do we have to sit on the hard ass ground?”

“The practices of the Imperial War Council go back thousands of years,” Sheila responded, “all the way back to the Shingani Rebellion.”

“Yeah I know that,” Mala said readjusting to a more comfortable position, “I just don’t see why we still do them.”

“Tradition.” Sheila replied shortly.

“Well I think some traditions need to be changed.”

The murmurs that pervaded the air of the tent were abruptly silenced as the entrance to the tent opened once more. Through it stepped General Abalos. A balding man in his later years, his face was stern and scarred. The armor that adorned his body was grandiose and plated. Everyone else inside the tent stood to attention. He surveyed the tent as he made his way to the middle of the circles.

“Be seated.” he spoke in his low, gravely voice. In what was practically unison, General Abalos and the masses within the tent sat down.

“The war council has now begun.” the General spoke again,”Now the Balinz are known for their masterful defense tactics. With this, and the fact that we are on their home planet, we are at a disadvantage. However, we are mightier and more well equipped. This will be a hard battle, but rest assured, we will emerge victorious. Now, we must strike at the enemy before they have time to build their defenses. We will siege their major cities and take them before they're ready for us.”

“But sir,” another captain across the tent spoke,” if I may?” “Speak, Captain Ellis.”

“We are not ready, we still have ships that are not even in orbit. These ships carry vital supplies and soldiers. Without these supplies we will be greatly under equipped for the difficulties and length of a seige of a siege and without the soldiers we can expect to be far outnumbered. Even if we do win, it won’t be by much, the casualties will be immeasurable.”

“We have no choice Captain, we must strike now or we have no hope of conquering the Belinz.”

“Actually, sir,” Sheila had spoken up,”Our earlier reconnaissance missions have revealed that the Balinz are keeping their supplies in what they believe to be concealed locations. Luckily, we have managed to find many of them.”

“What are you suggesting Major Martin?”

“The enemy is expecting us to strike their cities, so they have left their supply locations considerably less defended. If we strike these locations instead, we can cut off the enemy’s supplies, while using them for our own. That way, we will still be able to siege relatively soon and have enough supplies to do so, or at least until the rest of ours and our soldiers arrive, all while crippling the enemy, starving them out.”

“An excellent idea Major Martin. Where are these supply locations?”

“They are dotted in discrete locations across the planet. I have the coordinates here sir.” Sheila pulled out a small hard-light screen with various numbers on it and handed it to the general.”The nearest one is approximately 20 clicks West.

General Abalos stood up and began to address individuals in the crowd.”Captain Alder, send out scouts to ensure what Major Martin has said is true. Colonel Haus, gather your troops and march to the nearest outpost. Everyone else, prepare for war.”

“Yes sir!” rang the choir of commanding officers as they stood up and left the tent.

As Mala broke through the lip of the tent, she breathed a sigh of relief. The cool air against her face and in her lungs felt incredible.

“Finally we’re out of there.” she said as she turned to Sheila. Sheila did not respond, she wasn’t listening. Her face was stern and focused on something else.

“So,” Mala piped up again,”That was pretty impressive. Changing the war plans like that. You just saved a lot of lives.” Sheila was still silent.

“You know, I’m amazed the general actually listened to you. He’s usually so hard headed. I mean, to be fair, why wouldn’t he, you’re brilliant.” Still no response from Sheila.

“I mean, you and I have only been enlisted for six years and you’ve already achieved the rank of Major. That's incredible!”

“No it’s not.” Sheila finally spoke,”It’s possible for anyone to attain. You’re just reckless.”

“I’m sorry?” Mala felt as though she’d been sucker punched.

“I achieved the rank of Major through hard work and adherence to orders and rules.” Sheila had turned to face Mala now, her imposing figure silhouetted against the sun,”Make no mistake, you achieved the rank of Captain due to your acts of bravery and strength. But these actions were shortsighted and reckless.With behavior such as this you will never climb the ranks.”

“I don’t care and I took those actions to save people.”

“But in the process you endangered many more!”

“But no one ever died did they?!” Mala had screamed and attracted the attention of some of the nearby soldiers. She took a deep breath and spoke again, this time in a calmer tone,”Every time I try to save lives, I’ll admit, I endanger others. But no one has ever died and I will ensure that no one ever does. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself I allow someone who didn’t deserve it to die.”

“Wake up Mala.” Sheila sighed. “Look where you are. You’re in a war for God’s sake. People die all the time, the sooner realize that the further you’ll go. You can’t save everyone.” Mala stood tense. Her hands were balled into fists and her teeth were grit. Sheila turned and began to walk away,”You heard the General, gather your troops and prepare for war.”

As she walked away, Mala stood still. Sheila’s words echoed in her head, ‘You can’t save everyone.’

“Not if I can help it.” she finally said to herself. She walked back to her tent. Her medals clinking against her chest. The dull, repetitive sound was infuriating. Mala ripped them off her chest and clutched them in her fist. Tears welling in her eyes, anger rising in her body, she stomped off to prepare for war.

#humans are space orcs #humans are strange #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are space fae #sci-fi #space #aliens #space war

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