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ace-planecrasher · 2 years ago

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Scrap Heap 1 : Nothing of Value

Within a mountain of rusting scrap metal and garbage, a village lay hidden. All around lay desert and open sky without any dips or curves in sight, aside from the lone mountain of metal sticking jaggedly from the blasted wastes like embedded shrapnel.

The mountain of refuse was tunneled through and rearranged to support a town like an anthill of sharp corners and unforgiving crevices. The residents of the town, within the mountain, within the featureless desert were the children of war and the survivors of failed colonies. They eked out a living, trading what little they could find hidden among the wreckage and refuse; some people even found something valuable enough to book passage off-world. No one ever came back after they escaped orbit.

Jason Shepard lay in his bed and stared up at the stars between the crossing beams and overlapping sheet metal. His hands lay palm up at his sides, they are covered with raw blisters and fresh slices. He tries to sleep but something is anchoring him to consciousness, although he does not know what, and so he stares at the stars.

When the staring and dreaming became too much Jason got up and paced across the length of his shack, dragging his gaze across the floorboards. Jason regarded the far corner of the room: his stack of broken gadgets and half finished projects, and his lesser heap of human possessions; boring things like clothes, bedding and the other unfortunate necessities of being this kind of machine.

After minutes of pacing and pointed listening he tentatively crouches before the loose panel he discovered in his room shortly after moving in, he used some old screws and hinges to turn it into a little hatch behind which he kept his hidden treasure, his shoe box garden. From his modest container of dirt, scooped from the hole the box now lay inside, a patch of vibrant green sprouted from the light brown dirt although it looked black in the moonlight. The hole directly above the shoebox let in enough both sunlight and moonlight and through this hole, blue moonlight barged its way into Jason’s bedroom. He ran his hand over the shiny blades, feeling them bend under his hand and feeling a strange blend of emotions that he couldn’t put words too. Part of him wanted to smash the plants, tearing them apart and scattering the remains across the room; another part of him cried out in despair at the very thought. Jason’s hands balled into fists, grasping as many blades as he could, threatening to pull the roots from the dirt itself. After only a moment, right of the edge of destruction, Jason exhaled, replaced the false panel, and returned to his bed. He had tears in his eyes but he felt exhausted and he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Jason awoke when the sunlight managed to writhe their way though the cracks and openings in the walls. The heat was already intense. Jason’s clothes were soaked with sweat and his lips were dry and threatening to crack at any moment. He peeled his clothes off and drank what little water remained in his canteen, not nearly enough. The door Jason’s room was stuck and he had to force it open with a kick and a solid shove from his shoulder.

He stumbled out of his room and into the harsh, unadulterated sunlight. He threw up a hand to shield his eyes but he already had a headache. Jason licked his lips, they were unfamiliar and hostile to the touch, his shriveled tongue only made things worse. People were moving through the alley in which Jason’s dorm was located at a steady trickle. While the outer hull of scrap and junk was a uniform rust-orange, the inner village was a mixture of sheet metal gray and whatever painted bits of metal people could find and attach to the outside of their house or shop, wherever they could. Along the sheets of salvaged metal that people erected in overlapping layers to mimic solid walls, they hung colorful cans, bits of old car, and bits of advertisements which had someone managed to escape the end of the world in whatever hovel or under whatever heap had kept it shielded from the wasteland. Within the scrap was a community looking for humanity on a dead planet, one which had ultimately rejected humans and their attempts at taming her.

Jason pushes through the double door to Marcy’s shop. Behind the counter, Marcy grunts in way of greeting doesn’t bother to look up from the strong box she is trying to pry open with a screwdriver. Her shop is filled uncomfortably with many rows of shelves, all of which are overflowing with various objects, anything Marcy feels like she can get a credit or two for, which was pretty much anything.

“Hey Marcy. Beautiful day today, huh?” Jason asked as innocently as possible.

“No” Marcy grunted. “Its getting hotter” She wiped the sweat from her brow with a muscular forearm, smearing dark grease along the way. She never bothers to looking up at Jason.

“Oh is it? I hadn’t noticed” Jason lied. “Well its beautiful to me since I get to make your day, today”

Marcy looked up from her work only to shoot Jason an incredulous look. Her good eye conveyed enough scorn on its own but her cyber-eye conveyed its own strange emotion, part disappointment and part mechanical malfunction. He continued, “I found a laser cache, totally untouched. Shit I’ve never seen before”

Marcy scoffed, “If this cache is as ‘laser’ as you say, how come you are the first one to find it?”

“It was nearly completely buried! One of the Eastern heaps shifted and I was able to find an entrance under half of ton of wall-fodder and rust” Jason explained.

Marcy didn’t look up at Jason but she stopped tinkering and he could see her listening intently.

Jason went in for the kill, “You fund a little trip out there for me and I will bring you back some laser artifacts” Jason smirked, pleased with himself, it was all coming together. His smirk fell apart when Marcy started laughing. Marcy’s laugh was as booming as it was mocking. “You had me going for a minute there, kid. I almost believed you” Her laugh disappeared but the mocking tone stuck around. “I don’t trust little scrap rats”

Jason anticipated this sort of reaction and wordlessly placed a wire upon the counter in front of Marcy. The small length of cable had been cut though on both ends with a rusty knife but other than that it was completely immaculate. The colors stood out like fireworks agains the red dirt and slowly rusting community around them.

Marcy’s good eye nearly popped out of its socket. “Is that genuine?” She reached out to touch the wire but her hand hesitated just before she could touch it. A force like a magnet kept her hand away, she felt like it might just be some sort of mirage, something that will turn to sand before she can touch it. Jason answered, “Starship-grade”

Marcy slowly makes contact with the wire, she proves it warily before picking it up, she is still for a brief moment. She quickly turns around, in a flurry she grabs a container from one of her many shelves and removes a number of objects and sets them in neat rows upon the counter. She sweeps aside her previous work without a second though, Jason flinches as the metal box struck the metal floor creating a horrible scraping boom. Marcy didn’t react at all, instead she used a nasty looking tool to remove her iron eye socket, a small tangle of wires is dragged out of the depths of Marcy’s skull, trailing from the back of the artificial eye. Marcy’s cyber-hand breaks into many small articulating arms, they make quick work of the wiring job.

Jason faced the door and cringed at the mechanical sounds coming from behind him. He hated when Marcy did this bio-tech work in front of him. Jason turned back around as the gross sounds stopped and Marcy began speaking again.

“My god, kid! You’re a life saver! You never get used to faulty head wiring” She looks around her workshop, eager to take in all she could with her renewed vision. “There’s no static or hiccups at all! Alright kid, you’re in my good graces. What do you want?”

Jason laughed, Marcy was all business. “I want some water and the tools bust into the wreck I found and rip it apart” Jason smiled smugly, “You’ll have first bid on anything I recover” Jason’s smirk fell apart as Marcy started laughing.

“First bid? I’ll give you a ‘finder’s fee’ and send my own team to salvage properly”

Jason almost stamped his foot in frustration, “That’s not fair! It’s my cache, I found it!”

Marcy shook her head, “Sorry kid. Scavenger’s right. I’m doing you a favor here, either I pay you now, or I go and find it for myself” She shrugged, “Sorry”

Jason laughed bitterly, “Scavenger’s right. Ferguson sure knows all about that. Talk about a scrap rat!” Jason was trying to sound composed and utterly failing.

Marcy scowled, “Mind your tongue, kid. I appreciate the wires, and I’ll pay you. You should be thankful I don’t check your shithole living space for anything else you might have snatched away”

Jason reeled back, he had never seen Marcy like this before. “W-well maybe I’ll just keep it to myself then!”

Marcy smiled like a wolf, “If it were anyone else I would have them beaten for that, but I’m proud of you for being brave. Now, take your payment and drop it” Jason’s face went cold as the gears turned in his head. “Fine,” he eventually spat out. “Its straight out from the East gate until you reach the plateau. Its tucked away under the far-side” Marcy thanked Jason and paid him for the information. He took the payment and returned to his dirt-floored shithole. He laid spread out on his bed, feeling hot and dried out despite his nearly-full jugs of water. He contemplated Marcy’s betrayal and savored the taste of bitter spite in his mouth. More than anything he couldn’t stand that Garrett had been right about her

The evening after Jason’s meeting with Marcy, he found himself unable to work quietly in his shack and so he sought out Michael. He was always in his workshop at this hour.

The evening sun bathed the workshop in red-light, as if the sky itself were ablaze. Garrett cast two long shadows, one from the setting sun and one that was thrown against his wall of tool by the blinding light of his arc welder. Jason paced around him, watching him work from a safe distance until eventually the arc welder abruptly flared out and died. Garrett let out a sigh and turned to Jason, his welding goggles retracted into his metal eye-sockets.

“I told you that bitch couldn’t be trusted for a fair deal, J” Jason didn’t say anything, he just watched solemnly as Garrett removed his flesh arms from the oversized metal ones he put on for work. Jason might not like Garrett’s attitude but Jason couldn’t deny that he was master of scrap work, a servant of gear, counterweight, and hydraulic. “How do you know it didn’t work out?” Jason asked.

“Because you didn’t come in here shouting about how I was wrong” Garrett retorted. “What did you tell her? You told her pretty much everything, right?” His eyebrow raised along with a rotation of one of his metal eyes.

“No! I didn’t tell her everything” Jason emphasized. “I told her it was miles East of town”

“Hey! Good job, J! There might be some hope for you yet. That should buy us a few hours” Garrett pat Jason on the back encouragingly.

“A few hours?” Jason questioned. “She’ll never find it. Then she’s gonna have to come back to J to negotiate” He pointed at himself for emphasis.

“Negotiate? Why on Earth would she negotiate with you?”

Jason looked at Garrett blankly for a moment. “Because I have all the cards?

“Jason. You have zero cards”

#writing #scrap heap #Version 1 #I like the character interactions in this one

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alcothrashstudio · 2 years ago

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Сны Петра Максимыча - стрелец (live'96)

Alco-Thrash Studio presents.. Heading: G Music Video Band: Сны Петра Максимыча (Dreams of Peter Maksimych) Song: стрелец (Sagittarius) Genre: Rock Location: Russia, Velikie Luki Live video: video from the rock festival "Возвращение 5"(Return 5) at the canteen of railway secondary school No. 49. Russia, Velikie Luki. Date: April 20, 1996 #рокфестиваль_возвращение #Return #СныПетраМаксимыча #GMusicVideo #alcothrashstudio #HardRock #rock #рок

#youtube

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greensparty · 2 years ago

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2022: The Year in Green’s Party

This has been another great year on this blog of me sharing a thought or two about pop culture! This was a year I needed pop culture, entertainment and escapism more than ever. I got to do so many awesome things and I can’t believe that in early 2023 this blog turns 10! Here are some of the highlights of 2022:

Retweets and Social Media: There were numerous retweets and shares of my posts this year on social media including 2022 Collectibles Extravaganza sharing my coverage, Dana Carvey liked my tweet about Wayne’s World at Nice a Fest, David Spade liked my tweet about my interview with Siobhan Fallon Hogan, and Sean Baker liked my tweet about Red Rocket being my Best 2021 Movie I Saw in 2022.

Interviews: I got to interview numerous people including Jon “Bermuda” Schwartz of Weird Al Yankovic’s band (plus a bonus portion of the interview), Nice a Fest founder Alex Pickert, musician Colleen Green, actor / director James Morosini, director Marq Evans, director April Wright, director Ryan White, musician Kay Hanley, and actors Brian O’Halloran and Jeff Anderson.

Movie Reviews: I got to review A Hero, Sundown, I Want You Back, Studio 666, Jazz Fest: A New Orleans Story, Jurassic World Dominion, The Beatles and India, George Michael Freedom Uncut, Hallelujah: Leonard Cohen, A Journey, A Song, Thor: Love and Thunder, Clerks III, Sidney, Nothing Compares, Halloween Ends, Let There Be Drums!, Rebel Dread, Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, A Christmas Story Christmas, She Said, Avatar: The Way of Water, and Bablyon.

Album Reviews: I got to review Eddie Vedder’s Earthling and the vinyl reissue of Ukelele Songs, John Carpenter, Cody Carpenter and Daniel Davies’ Firestarter soundtrack and Halloween Ends soundtrack, Florence + The Machine’s Dance Fever, The Rolling Stones’ Live at El Mocambo, The Clash’s Combat Rock / The People’s Hall special edition, Wilco’s Cruel Country, Beabadoobee’s Beatopia, Neil Young and Crazy Horse’s Toast, Neil Young and Promise of the Real’s Noise & Flowers, R.E.M.’s Chronic Town 40th anniversary EP, Oasis’s Be Here Now 25th anniversary edition, Ringo Starr’s EP3, Djo’s Decide, Billy Idol’s The Cage, The Smithereens’ The Lost Album, The Pixies’ Doggerel, L7′s Bricks Are Heavy 30th anniversary reissue, Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Cool It Down, Alvvays’ Blue Rev, Red Hot Chili Peppers’ Return of the Dream Canteen, Joe Strummer and The Mescaleros’ Joe Strummer 002: The Mescalero Years box set, The Beatles’ Revolver Special Super Deluxe Edition, Foo Fighters’ The Essential Foo Fighters, the compilation album ‘Life Moves Pretty Fast’ The John Hughes Mixtapes, Guns N’ Roses Use Your Illusion I and II box set, Bruce Springsteen’s Only the Strong Survive, Jimi Hendrix Experience’s Los Angeles Forum: April 26, 1969, and Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers’ Live at the Fillmore, 1997.

Concert Reviews: The year began with a livestream concert review of Mike Garson’s A Bowie Celebration. In person concert reviews came back with reviews of Sheer Mag, Ringo Starr and His All-Starr Band, Paul McCartney, Death Cab for Cutie, Alvvays, and not an official review but I did a semi-review of Cheap Trick at Boston Calling.

DVD and Blu-ray Reviews: I got to review some DVD and blu-rays including The Beatles: Get Back, Neil Young and Promise of the Real: Noise & Flowers, and You Can’t Do That on Film.

Book Reviews: I got to cover numerous books released in 2022 including Olivia Harrison’s Came the Lightening: Twenty Poems for George, Pattie Boyd’s My Life in Pictures, and Jerry Seinfeld’s Comedians In Cars Getting Coffee Book.

Theater Reviews: This year I got to do my first official theater review, for On Beckett.

Music Festivals: I got to cover the 2022 Nice, a Fest festival.

Film Festivals and Film Events: I got to review a virtual film at Sundance Film Festival, my annual guide to the 2022 Oscar Nominated Short Films, my coverage of the 2022 Independent Film Festival Boston, covered the 2022 Collectibles Extravaganza, and the 2022 IFFBoston Fall Focus.

...And the biggest postings and news of the year:

- 1/2/2022: Green’s Party turned 9!

- 1/28/2022: I wrote my tribute to Mighty Mighty Bosstones, who I have been lucky enough to cover since 2017.

- March 2022: I took a breather from the blog for a few weeks due to a death in the family.

- 3/26/22: I posted my remembrance of Taylor Hawkins. 32 notes, my biggest post of 2022!

- 3/29/22: I posted my This Month In History column for March. 19 notes.

- 4/14/22: I wrote about returning to my first live concert in over 2 years to see LCD Soundsystem.

- 5/26/22: I posted my remembrance of Ray Liotta. 11 notes.

- 6/19/22: I re-shared my 2021 post about Sesame Street’s Juneteenth Song. 28 notes.

- 7/31/22: I posted my remembrance of Bill Russell and Nichelle Nichols. 18 notes.

- 8/7/22: I shared my return to Kim’s Video at NYC’s Alamo Drafthouse.

- 9/21/22: I shared the big news that my documentary Life on the V: The Story of V66 has been added to the Permanent Collection of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!

- 10/12/22: I re-shared my 2018 post about This Day in 2018. 15 notes.

- 12/8/22: Tumblr provided their data of Green’s Party Year in Review up until December 8.

- 12/17/22: I re-shared my 2020 Top 5 Seinfeld Episodes During the Holiday Season list. 11 notes.

#green's party #my blog #2022 #year in review #film geek #music nerd #books #concerts #dvd review #theater review #film festival

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belladonna-wright · 1 year ago

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Goodnight, Sweet Dream

As Time Goes By - Chapter 10

(Part 1) / Part 2

London, 1934 (Set immediately following Part 1).

When she was a little girl, she had swum in streams under the hot sun; she had giggled and shrieked as cold water splashed on her skin, in the dappled shade of an old tree. She had chased her little brother in and out of the water until their skin glowed pink and they went home shivering, warming up quickly under the sun.

As a woman she had sunk into cold water, letting the salt and the dust seep from her skin as another long ride ended. It had felt like freedom, it had felt electric - alive, to feel the air wrenched from her lungs as she lay back in the icy cold of a mountain lake, one eye always on where the boys would be.

She had swum in the Irish Sea once, making the best of it with the rest of the party she was with, but by then she had been cold herself; no longer able to tell where the water ended and she began. There was no heartbeat to skip, no breath to catch, no pink and rosy glow to rise in her skin. Instead she floated, effortless, weightless, formless in those dark, gentle waves. Nothingness. She could have stayed there forever, simply one with the water, all her surroundings forgotten, all the rest of the world drifting away from her as she gave herself to the numbness.

To nothingness she returned, head slipping below the waves. The hum of electric lights and the nurses station faded from her ears. The acrid stench of disinfectant gone from her nostrils. Even the splintered waiting room chair was nothing to her as the one sound that mattered faded into silence forevermore.

Jessie let herself sink down into the depths of the cold, dark and lonely. So alone. Her anchor cut loose in the storm, her harbour light extinguished, she would simply drift, flotsam in the tide. Nothingness.

A warm hand - too warm, impossibly warm, burningly warm - grasped her left shoulder. Jessie started, as the gentle grip dragged her back up from the blackness until her head broke the surface of the waves.

She stared, like a cornered animal up into a pair of blue-green eyes. They did not flinch from her.

“What?” Jessie blinked.

“I said, would you like to go and get a cup of tea?” The Nurse repeated. Her hand still felt hot against Jessie’s shoulder.

The tea warmed her hand, as Jessie stared at the saucer. The glaze was cracked, thin grey lines running all over the surface. How many hands, she thought, must have wrapped themselves around the same mismatched cup and saucer in their hours of need? She didn’t need, though, she wasn’t like them. She was a vampire, grief was just … a distant echo to her, not like the sobbing, wretching thing that it was for some people.

And yet the simple fact remained that Jed was gone.

Jessie looked up, and realised the nurse was looking at her expectantly.

“Sorry,” Jessie shook her head gently, as if trying to still shake the water from her ears, “I, uh-”

“That’s quite alright,” the nurse spoke. Jessie recognised the voice from her time around the hospital. She had cared for Jed, at times, Jessie was sure. It was a clipped sort of voice, polite and yet warm, with just the faintest trace of an accent underlying the proper pronunciation of her words. “I was just asking whether you’d travelled far, to be here-”

“From the States,” Jessie replied, like a machine whirring automatically. “Really I should be getting back there. I’ll have to think about getting the train back up to Liverpool I suppose and then sort out my crossing, of course the timing isn’t ideal but I can probably get the train from King’s Cross and then have to book a room for myself-” What was keeping her here anymore, afterall?

The pair lapsed into silence. As silent as the hospital canteen ever got, which was not very.

“You know,” The Nurse spoke, leaning forwards onto her elbows. “I have this Uncle. He lives on Morecambe Bay, you ever heard of it? Big bay, up north.”

Jessie shook her head, she had not heard of it.

“Anyway,” the Nurse continued undeterred, “He’s a fisherman, you see. But there are these great expanses of sand there, when the tide is out. Miles, you could walk out there, it looks like you could get all the way across the bay!”

Jessie listened. It was easier than thinking about what was actually happening, even if it was all probably going to be background noise.

“But you can’t, because the sands shift, you see? You get these streams running through them that are deeper than they look, and they change route, and then the tides come in really quickly and catch people out. But sometimes you get these pockets where the water and the sand mix and it turns into sinking sand. The second you put your foot in it it gives way and starts to suck you under.”

Jessie had heard of such things, the sort of danger people used to tell about crossing rivers back home. Put your foot in one wrong spot and you might be gone forever. An exaggeration. But all the same, a danger.

“Anyway sometimes people come out onto the sand to pick cockles, and they get stuck. So the fishermen go out to try and help them.” The Nurse just kept talking. It was soothing, in a way, to think of anything but her nephew.

“So they get out there and the people are always trying to claw their way out. Trying to wade to safety or to wriggle themselves free, but here’s the thing,” she wagged her finger, “When you do that it only creates more suction so the sand grips you tighter and pulls you in deeper.”

She looked pointedly at Jessie. “And then you’re sinking. But the trick, actually, so my Uncle says, is to relax. Stay still. Because then the suction eases up and stops pulling you in further, and then very slowly… very carefully, you can work your way loose. Of course they also say you should try to lie back, and that that spreads the weight better and stops you sinking but I think that would have to mean being quite brave, don’t you?”

Jessie was staring out of the window, half of her mind still on travel arrangements. If she returned to the States where would she even go? Not back to New Orleans, perhaps, but there was a whole lot of places she’d not been for a long time. Or she could head further west even.

“But I’ve always thought that grief was a little bit like that, don’t you think?” Jessie looked back at the Nurse, who was giving her a very kind look, a look so kind it almost burned her.

“The harder you try to fight it, the more stuck you become.”

Jessie looked down at her untouched, and rapidly cooling cup of tea. It was more complicated than that, she couldn’t feel it, let herself sink in, in the same way that it might consume some people. A warm hand reached out for hers again. Luckily, hers was warm from the tea-cup.

“Just… take care of yourself, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Jessie said it so quickly it was entirely automatic. She didn’t think at all about what that actually entailed or might mean because she had no room for anything above survival in this moment. Which for the moment meant getting far far away from here. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t take up any more of your time, Nurse…” Jessie shook her head in apology, withdrawing her hand.

“Mountford,” the young woman smiled. “Nurse Mountford. And it’s quite alright, my shift actually ended” - she checked the little watch on her apron - “About three-quarters of an hour ago.”

When they’d come downstairs.

Somewhere, through all of the layers of cold fog, and the grief, and shock, Jessie felt touched. Kindness. When had she come to stop expecting that of people? Somewhere a long way back along the road.

#as time goes by #goodnight sweet dream #just a little one but not to blow my own horn I have been setting up this interaction since last August and it is so precious to me

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whatsonmedia · 2 years ago

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Music Extravaganza: Hot Gigs & Festivals This Week!

Get ready to immerse yourself in the world of live music with our curated list of must-attend gigs and festivals happening this week! From electrifying concerts to captivating festival experiences, we've got you covered with the hottest events that will leave you craving for more. Mark your calendars and get ready to be swept away by the rhythm and energy of these unmissable musical moments. Red Hot Chili Peppers Red Hot Chili Peppers announce 2023 world tour supporting albums "Unlimited Love" and "Return of the Dream Canteen." Dates include stadiums and festivals, starting on March 29 in Vancouver and concluding on May 19 at the Hangout Music Festival in Gulf Shores, Alabama. Their next tour date is at Minute Maid Park in Houston, after that they'll be at Napa Valley Expo in Napa. Upcoming concerts when & where: >Thursday 25 May 2023 Minute Maid Park, Houston, TX, US Line-up: Red Hot Chili Peppers, The Strokes, Thundercat http://houston.astros.mlb.com/index.jsp?c_id=hou > Friday 26 May 2023 – Sunday 28 May 2023 BottleRock Napa Valley 2023 Line-up: Red Hot Chili Peppers, Post Malone, Bastille, The Smashing Pumpkins, Tove Lo, Lupe Fiasco, Carly Rae Jepsen, The National, Lil Nas X, Lizzo, and more https://www.songkick.com/venues/4448234-napa-valley-expo Foo Fighters Foo Fighters have announced their first headline shows since the passing of Taylor Hawkins. Additional live shows are being added in various locations in the United States. The drummer replacement details and 2023 tour dates can be found, along with ticket information. Upcoming concerts when & where: >Wednesday 24 May 2023 Bank of New Hampshire Pavilion, Gilford, NH, US Line-up: Foo Fighters, TAIPEI HOUSTON >Thursday 25 May 2023 – Sunday 28 May 2023 Sonic Temple Art & Music Festival 2023 Line-up: Foo Fighters, Kiss, Queens of the Stone Age, Avenged Sevenfold, Deftones, Tool, Rob Zombie, Godsmack, Black Stone Cherry, Brutus, and more For more> https://www.banknhpavilion.com/ Sonic Temple Festival 2023 Stage Times and Locations for Sonic Temple 2023 Revealed >Thursday 25 May 2023 – Sunday 28 May 2023 Line-up: Kiss, Avenged Sevenfold, AWOLNATION, Deftones, Tool, Black Veil Brides, Trivium, Filter, grandson, Rival Sons, and more Historic Crew Stadium, Columbus, OH, US For more> https://www.columbuscrewsc.com/stadium Paramore Paramore announces a North American arena tour for 2023, with 26 shows across the US and Canada. The tour begins on May 23 in Charlotte and concludes on August 2 in St. Paul. Opening acts include Bloc Party, Foals, The Linda Lindas, and Genesis Owusuare. Notable venues include Madison Square Garden, Moody Center, and Kia Forum in Los Angeles. PARAMORE IN NORTH AMERICA TOUR DATES: when & where> - Tue May 23 – Charlotte, NC – Spectrum Center - Thu May 25 – Atlanta, GA – State Farm Arena, for more> https://www.statefarmarena.com/ - Friday 26 May - 28 May 2023 – Harvard Athletic Complex, For more> http://www.gocrimson.com/landing/index - Sat May 27 – Atlantic City, NJ – Adjacent Festival! Read the full article

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lakemojave · 2 years ago

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Land of Shining Stars 1

It scooped a drink into its canteen. The creature’s back ached as it hunched down to the oasis, feeling its spines crack and falter as it coiled to meet the ground. It was just getting used to this form--or rather, awareness to this form it had always had. When the first scoop barely filled half the canteen and inflicted unnecessary pain, it instead slithered to its fleshy belly, then crawled forward to fill the waterskin to the top, then to take some sips for itself. The water was cool, clean, flushing the gravel out of the creature’s throat.

Night had done strange things to this fellow. For most of its life, it acted on instinct, acted to eat and sleep and survive on the Plateau, like anyone else. When the sun finally set, though, it grew cold: cold unlike anything it had experienced. Without the warmth of two suns on its scales, it found itself shuddering, scared and still under shining stars. Fear was not unknown to the creature, but this was different, more profound. It was not scared that in its paralysis, it would succumb to the teeth of a predator or the guns of a traveler--no, it was scared because the mere loss of free action deprived it of something essential to its lived experience, one that it did not hold dear until this very moment.

It decided then that it was suited to a different style of living than it lived before. This was an ambitious prospect on Moapa, where living beyond survival was less of a pretty dream and more of a fool’s fantasy. At the very least, it would fight for survival with the same vigor as before, if only to attain a picturesque, stimulating life filled with beauty and thought and all the other things emerging in its purview.

The desert was quiet that night. The creature heard the chirping of crickets and howling of coyotes from beyond the light of the bonfire. The moon shone bright, casting a pale glow over the brush, the cacti, the red sand, cutting out a horizon of mountains, dunes, trees and a stretch of a whole lotta nothin’. In a rare stroke of fortune--or misfortune, hard to say--the creature could see a distant glow and the traces of smoke off in the distance, to the east. It was rare, on Moapa, to find another traveler who would agree to simply share the quiet space together, especially in the danger of night. No shots exchanged, no negotiation for safe passage--just mutual, comfortable distance.

The creature would get distracted by the stars. There were so many, such a bright and brilliant display of wonder and impossibility. To think this many stars lay just behind the light of the Falling Sun, that the night sky would offer such light without suns--what did the Legend say? Did anyone even consider what the sky without suns would look like? Was this spoken into being in campfire stories or drunken bar ravings, like all things out here?

The creature didn’t know. It just kept counting.

A leg of venison roasted over the creature’s fire. It was a large, long-burning bonfire that burned bright and loud for all across the desert plain to see in the dead of night. It was, however, quite warm by now, and cooked the venison quite nicely. In days past, the creature might have simply caught the beast, killed it, then ate it raw. Pure sustenance, no enjoyment, craft, or transformation. It was still new to this concept, this cooking, so all it had done was put the meat in contact with a fire. Still, it found this process engrossing: the tedium in the preparation, the experimentation with heat and cooking time, trimming excess fat and bone before consuming the roast. Lately, it even found words for the gratitude it felt, how thankful it was that it had food to eat and a fire to keep it warm: words for something it always knew, but never thought.

While the meat cooked, it returned to the pool. The moon and fire were bright, and it could see its reflection in the pool. It brushed its fingers through its long, tangled hair, and let it fall to its left--no, its right, better that way. Out from its belongings, it pulled a hat and coat it appropriated a few days before. The coat was a little too large for the curious, scaly thing, but the hat fit its head just fine. It returned to the pool to admire its reflection one more time. Two of its four arms shook out from under the coat, but the other two fit through the sleeves well enough, and with one of the two arms, the creature adjusted the hat, tipping it to and fro and making various expressions with different positions, imagining itself as gruff bandit, stern sheriff, friendly farmhand, and charming renegade. It smiled, blushed, giggled, and clasped its hands over its mouth in embarrassment. It was a silly thing to do, but it was happy.

Bang.

It heard the shot before it felt the pain, at first. The smile vanished from the creature’s face, right before it felt a wound bore through its lower abdomen. It looked down at the wound and saw blood seeping from its chest, dripping down to its tail. It clutched the wound, then curled into the ground--slow and lurching, as the pain started to come in--and shivered, feeling itself bleed. Its vision blurred.

Death. That was the most likely outcome. You get shot in the chest alone in the desert, you die. Everyone knew this, least of all emergent consciousnesses like the creature’s. Even before its current state of thought, it was always afraid of dying. It was never, however, afraid of dying like this. It was alone, off in the wild, where no one would find its body until days later, much less anyone who cared enough for the creature to give it last rites. It didn’t even see who took the shot, or where they came from--though they thought they saw a muzzle flare to the north, not east, where the second campsite lay. It wouldn’t even know why it was dying. It shed a tear as it curled up one last time, for one last taste of warmth and comfort.

It heard a rustle in the bushes. It weakly raised its head to look.

Bang.

-----

The horse was in no place to be a picky eater. It had recently done a great favor for its rider and her companion, who in return went out of their way to hunt down a bear of considerable size for the horse to feed on. After that tremendous act of generosity, its rider compelled the being to resort to scraps. She and her companion needed decent food much more than the beast--which is why the roast venison turned out to be a pleasant sight for their hungry eyes.

The Auran crouched solemnly over the creature’s body while their companion carved the meat.

“Now, Chipper,” the companion said, after several minutes of silence during their approach and search of the campsite, “Why did we shoot it?”

Chipper inhaled, shut its eyes, then exhaled. They answered, “Anyone awake in the dark by their fire is ready and willing to hurt you.”

The companion nodded. “Good answer, kid. Here,” She handed Chipper a slice of venison. They took it in their talon to eat. They simply looked at the overcooked meat, hesitating to bite.

“You don’t really think that, though,” the companion concluded by the kid’s silence.

“No,” Chipper answered, eyes shut. “I really can’t, Tannis.”

Tannis sighed. “Yeah,” she said, “Me neither.”

“But you do. You still choose to,” came a voice in their heads.

“Dog,” Chipper said aloud, gently, “Not now, okay?” The horse nodded, then resumed eating the dead snake creature.

“I know you know all this stuff, Chipper,” Tannis said, “I ain’t tryin’ to patronize or…traumatize, I suppose. I know how hard it is to think this way, though, ya get me? Especially if you--if we--are tryin’ to make a better place here. We gotta understand why we lived this way, and what we wanna change, right?”

Chipper nodded. “I know that. Doesn’t make killing random folks any easier.”

“It’ll stop soon. Someday soon.”

“Yeah, someday soon. But in the meantime, could we try to kill them less…painfully? You hit it in a bad spot.”

Tannis bit some venison, then walked over to inspect the body. It noticed the first shot. “Aw, hell. Sure. No mistakes next time.”

Chipper smiled at their friend. “Aim gettin’ sloppy, ma’am?”

“You stop that,” Tannis laughed, lightly punching their shoulder. “It’s dark.”

“Your eyes have had plenty of time to adjust.”

“And so’s your attitude.”

The two smiled. They shared a bite to eat, then left the campsite and its reptilian occupant. There was another campfire to check out.

-----

In a place far, far to the east, one could not see the Falling Sun. Something about the curvature of Ribben, the Waking World, rendered it invisible in that part of the world, except for a faint glow on the western horizon. That region enjoyed full moons and starry skies, and a pleasant and temperate climate with fair seasons and cool summers. Traders from the west always seemed to dread their journey home, enjoying their respite from a constant state of daylight. Strange folk from further east, beyond the seas, would arrive occasionally, and become ecstatic when the sun set and the moon shone bright. It was a paradise for people who never knew of only one sun.

Everything changed though, that day, when another sun rose in the east.

Read the rest here

#land of falling sun #land of shining stars #lofs

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enzenwriting · 3 years ago

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attention, please!

16 new bestie SLAY (written! 2k words)

16 new bestie SLAY

(an: sorry this was not proof read or edited ahhhhh)

written part below! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Jungwon doesn’t know how long he’d been standing outside his aunt’s apartment door. He hasn’t even knocked for heaven's sake, so he doesn’t know what he was doing there. Lie. That was in fact a lie. Standing outside his aunt's apartment door, he was hoping to run into you. Maybe on your way back from class or maybe you’d go out to the store. Does he know what he would even say if he did see you? Nope. How do you even start a conversation nowadays? Howdy aunt’s neighbour and classmate! Thank you for saving my ass back in class. Can we be friends? No. Jungwon will not sound stupid. Time passes and he’s still outside. he should definitely visit his aunt now. He’s starting to lose his mind every ticking second.

“Oh? Howdy stranger?” Just as Jungwon is about to reach for the handle, Jungwon hears a voice. His head whips to his left to see familiar faces. Nct dream. He’s no stranger to these guys having to have trained in the same company as them for a brief moment. Although it was a short time, he remember them fondly. They’ve met at the practice room, and canteen and even befriended them briefly. A bunch of noisy, chaotic but friendly guys.

“OH? JUNGWON?” Jeno pipes

“JUNGWON?! It’s been a while!! How are you!” Jaemin adds

“Hello! Yes, it’s been a while and I’m doing great. I hope you all are too” Jungwon walks forward, receiving the bro hugs coming from all the guys.

“Yeah man, congrats on your debut! I know it's been a while” Jisung, the last to hug him pats his back. “Oh? why are you here?”

“This” he points towards his Aunt’s apartment door. “My Aunt lives here”

“YOU’RE MS YANG’S CUTE NEPHEW?” Chenle almost screams and it takes Renjun a lot not to cover his mouth. Jungwon isn’t sure what he means by cute nephew but he lets it pass by with a quick nod before returning the question to them as to what they’re doing at this building and specific floor. As far as he’s concerned, this floor’s only resident is your family and his aunt.

“We’re here to visit YN” Oh? You knew nct dream?

“Oh, you guys know each other?” How close were you to them for them to comfortably visit your home?

“We went to the same SMU Middle School. We were all supposed to attend SMU after that but the director transferred her application to HYBE U. Supposedly for a better sponsor and class offer or something like that” Renjun explains to which Jungwon nods but something in his stomach doesn’t settle well but he shrugs the foreign feelings. He guesses it must’ve been nice to be friends with you for a long time. “How about you? How do you know YN?”

You must’ve not told them about him then, disappointment washes him but he quickly dismisses it. “Through my aunt and we’re in the same class in HYBE U. We sit next to each other actually”

“Oh? Then I don’t think she’d mind” Haechan chuckles. Before Jungwon could question what he means, Haechan is quick to have his arm around Jungwon before keying your apartment door’s code. Everything was too fast for Jungwon to comprehend. It doesn’t come to him that he was entering your home with other 6 guys even with the rowdy movements and arguments amongst each other he can’t even hear. He doesn’t take notice of a small white furry friend walking to them and Jeno picking it up before running inside. He doesn’t even remember when or how he took his shoes off by your door.

“YN WERE HERE” with Haechan’s arm around his shoulder, yelling as they finally enter the living room, it finally dawns on him that he is inside your home.

“WAIT A MINUTE!” Your voice echoes from somewhere he hears

“Oh? Who is his guy?” another girl comes around from the corner carrying an orange cat. Jungwon instantly recognises her as SM Aespa’s Ningning. How many idol friends do you have?

“Jungwon this Ningning, Ning, this Jungwon, Ms Yang’s nephew and YN’s classmate” Haechan snickers and Ningning respond with raised eyebrows, about to say something she stops when they hear you coming into the living room.

“Please don’t be noisy, brownie is sleeping in my room- Jeno please don’t smother cookie” You come around. Jungwon first notices how your hair is now tied back with a few strands framing your face. He takes notice of your eyes and thinks they look really pretty now that he can see them clearly. He thinks your little pout, showing your discontent with Jeno still smothering the cat with attention is cute. About to comment on your cute and comfy attire, your eyes meet with his. Oh, was I staring?

"Oh?” you hum, eye darting on Haechan with a frown. “Haechan, you shouldn’t be kidnapping people”

“KIDNAP?!” Haechan’s arm comes off Jungwon and he hears the others snickering behind him. “I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW JUNGWON TRAINED IN SM FOR A WHILE AND WERE BESTIES! BESSSTIESSS!”

“Is that true? They didn’t kidnap you or forced you here, right? If you’re uncomfortable, you can go and I’ll hold these weirdos back” You looked at him. Jungwon almost forgets to respond when he thinks your voice is really nice to listen to but quickly snaps out of it after hearing echoes of complaining and friendly insults at you from the other.

“No, not at all. I hope you don’t mind I’m here” he gulps. Jungwon’s ears are definitely red he thinks but you don’t seem to notice when you give him a small smile with a short comment that you don’t mind.

“YN AND JUNGWON SITTING ON THE TREE K-I-S-”

“Chenle I will burn your cookies right in front of your eyes don’t try me”

“S- PLEASE NO”

Jungwon laughs at your interaction. He settles down on the sofa with the dream. He takes notice of your friendly, savage and chaotic interchange with everyone. It was comfortable and he felt very welcomed as if he had already been part of the friend group. He thinks he doesn’t interact or engage in a conversation with you as much as he would like but that wasn’t possible with you preoccupied with taking out cookies from the oven, swatting Chenle and Jisung out of the kitchen when Jisung holds a kitchen tong with a spatula in between trying to scoop out a cookie with Chenle flicking rubber bands at him at the same time. You also had to stop Jeno and Renjun from trying to fit your large orange cat in their bags in an attempt to take him back to their dorm later. He also doesn’t miss Jaemin and Haechan by your and Ningning’s back nagging and annoying you to get a reaction. When they finally do, and you glare at them, they run back to the living room yelling incoherent noises and would do it all over again. The only time you’d both interact is when you’re asking him if he wanted any drink, checking on him and in a short conversation with others.

The only time they had all settled is when you finally take out the pastries to the living room’s coffee table where everyone sat around, catching up with you and telling their interesting stories about their comeback stage and behind the scene chaos they proudly did in the dismay of staffs. They had him tell stories too and engage in their very interesting and random debates. After that, they settled on playing Mario Kart on the tv. Jungwon almost loses track of the time had it not been spam from his own group’s group chat about how Niki should stop punching the punching bag and him refusing to do so.

So Jungwon tells everyone that it’s pretty late for him and he should go, awkwardly so but he manages to get his points across. Dream and Ningning say their goodbye to him and how they should meet up again not before he exchanges numbers.

“you should show him out” Renjun nudges your arm. Ningning snickering right next to him. Jungwon doesn’t say anything in hopes you actually do.

“Gosh, it's not like he’ll get lost” you punch Renjun’s arm playfully before standing up and walking toward the door with Jungwon following behind. When you slip on a comfortable outdoor shoe, you both walk out with you closing the door behind you. You just know how annoying your friends are and would LOVE to be nosy of your interaction after admitting Jungwon was cute and he is if you were honest. He was looking down at you, eyes focused on you only with his dimple peeking out slightly.

“Hey thanks for sticking around today, I know you must’ve been busy with Ms Yang but you were taken away by those noisy weirdos” you mumble looking down.

“No I should be thanking you for having me without notice” he replies softly. “and for the cookies too” he lifts the box of cookies you’d packed for him and his group members.

“I did promise Sunoo and besides, I made too much because the guys inside had been nagging me about wanting to try my new cookie recipe I accidentally mentioned a few weeks ago” you pout. Jungwon couldn’t get enough of your puffy cheeks he thinks you were cute.

Yeah definitely “haha cute”

cute? CUTE? You definitely misheard. “You should probably go before it gets late”

“Yeah” he agrees. He takes one step before stopping. Wait. He should definitely ask you to befriend him now. But isn’t it a little awkward at this moment? He barely spoke to you today too. Hesitating, he hears you shuffle and he thinks you’re about to go in. It's now or never.

“YN!” he turns around making you halt your steps. “U-Uh actually, I wanted to let you know I don't mind being forced back to class anymore and I found people I’d like to be friends with.” You.

“That’s good you found people you want to be friends with. I hope your school year will be fun and normal as you wanted”

“Yeah, things change really quickly and it's hard for me to catch up sometimes.” You reply with a nod “Oh and thanks for standing up for me in class. You didn’t help just because I was an Idol or Ms Yang’s nephew right?”

“Oh that” I’m still regretting scaring the teacher to be honest, but I would probably still help you if I knew you were Ms Yang’s nephew or not. “To be honest, I didn’t even know who you were back then”

“oh well, I still think you’re cool!” Jungwon stop stalling and tell her! “And so, let’s be friends YN.”

“Huh? uh- It’s fine” It’s fine? Maybe she misheard?

“YN? I was just asking if we could be friends?” You shouldn’t look at him you think but you do, his head tilted to the side, eyes wide with a smile. He reminds you of your cat brownie when you’re asking him life questions and the little guy is confused.

“Yeah, uh- you don’t have to do that. It would make me feel uncomfortable if we became friends in class. I like how things are now. I’d like it if you pretended not to know me at school like how you wanted and make friends with someone else” You say in a serious tone, eyes drifting down to your shoes. You think he’s gone through so much because of being associated with you. You’re not ignorant of the rumours that he’s your errand boy and people aren’t making friends with him because of that. He’s an idol too. He shouldn’t be trying to make friends with people with bad rumours and reputations such as yourself.

“ I’ll go inside now” You look at him one last time. “You should too, you don’t want your group members to be worried”

“Oh yea, I’ll go when your inside just to make sure you’re safe” With that you nod at him and walk back inside. When you’re out of sight, Jungwon hears his heart crack and feels his ears burn. That was so embarrassing.

16 new bestie slay!

♡Summary: When Enhypen are forced back to attend class, Jungwon is determined to fight or flight; by tying to get out of school or trying make the best of ordinary school life. What would happen when he comes across the rumoured bully who happens to be his aunt’s neighbour who is really good at making cookies?!

an: yn and wonie finally faces each other but at WHAT COST1!!1!!

♡ taglist: (open! pls message to be tagged!) @hiqhkey @lovnayeon @rrvvby @i6hoons @tenten-67 @angel-hyuckie

♡ masterlist previous / next

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen fanfiction #yang jungwon #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smau #yang jungwon smau #yangjungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #yang jungwon x reader #enhypen scenarios #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 3 years ago

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The World Is Ugly: Donny x Reader

*TW: Angst/Violence A/N: I AM SO SO SORRY!!!! I had this done months ago and somehow forgot to actually post it??? This was literally requested like in winter????

*based on The World is Ugly by MCR

Requested by @softhornymess

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tammykelly @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @pastexistence @what-the--curtains @taikawho @spookybearlandtaco Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

*************

1945 "This doesn't scare ya?" Donny joined you at the edge of a steep ravine. In the horizon, beyond the towering trees, between the leaves and the stars, bursts of light and booms echoed from the distant battlefield. "No." You didn't take your eyes off the abyss. "I haven't felt scared anymore, just...a little lonely sometimes." You looked at the endlessness before your eyes. Donny nodded, "Yeah..." He knew just how you felt. You'd had a thousand small talks like that one, and each time you learned something new about each other. "Lonely," his voice was quieter than you were used to, but then again, why would he want to wake the rest of the basterds up now? Now, as his hand rested over yours. Your eyes turned to his, and the two of you smiled for a moment, before turning back to the distant bellowing engines and flashing lights. By dawn, Donny would be gone. Aldo was sending him on a mission of his own, further away from the battle field, meaning further into enemy territory. He was going alone, but that didn't worry you until days turned to weeks. So, Aldo sent the next best thing after him: you. You were interrogating a nazi. Frankly, if he didn't give you the information you wanted, you would still get an extra scalp for the debt you owed to Aldo. The nazi laughed as you threatened him with your gun. "Was ist so lustig?" 'What's so funny?' You demanded through gritted teeth, your gun pressed against his head.

"Du bist nichts ohne Donowitz hinter dir." 'You are nothing without Donowitz behind you.'

You turned to see that Donny was in fact not the one behind you. Instead, you had been surrounded by a patrol. It was a whole army to you, it took everything in you to survive it. And then you saw it. They had Donny's bat. They had taken Donny from you, you were sure of it. In that moment, nothing else mattered. They were everything that was wrong with the world, and you intended to make things right, even if it meant you never got to see another day. When you enlisted just a few short years before, you were naive. You were just some kid, looking for an adventure. You were like so many others. You thought you could change the world. But now, after all you'd come to see, you realized one thing. The world is ugly. But, for brief moments in time, during small talks between the bleakest hours and the softest sunrises, you saw a world beyond your own. You saw the endlessness of the farthest galaxies, the depths of the ocean all in Donny's eyes. He was all that was beautiful to you. You were ready to take on the entire nazi army if you had to to get even. And in that moment, it felt as though that were exactly what you were doing. *** You opened your eyes. You had made it. You took on what seemed to be an army, and you won. You lost your knife in the process, you had no more bullets. You were hurting, hungry, out of water, out of fire. Donny was there. He hovered over you, and you caught your breath. You sat up in confusion, but pain pulsed through every inch of you. "Hey, hey, stay down." Donny gently settled you back down, and waited, watching to make sure you didn't try to get up again. He shook his head, "Fuck's sake y/n," he folded up a strip of cloth he'd torn, and dipped it in his canteen. He wiped away dirt and blood from your face, following a dried trail of blood from your ear, "What has the world done to you..." He was exasperated. You scanned him, searching for answers, but even your eyes hurt. You were both quiet for a few moments, then he asked "What are you doin' out here?" "I came to find you." You confirmed his worst fear, and a pang of guilt washed over him. "I'm fine." You looked at him, and saw there wasn't even a scratch on him. "I was on my way back to you." "They had your bat. I thought that..." you trailed off, not even wanting to utter such words. "Thought that what?" "Nothing. It doesn't matter." He stopped tending to your wounds for a moment. Everything about you mattered to him. Every word, every dream, every breath. "It matters to me." His eyes were wide, searching for an answer. His hands wrapped around your forearm, clinging desperately to all he had. "I thought they got you..." You were both quiet for a moment, and then he responded. "I went back to get my bat... then I saw you here. You were holding on to it, but I thought I was..." Even the bravest of the basterds could not get through the words. "Too late." He shook his head, "Why did you do it?" He demanded. He was angry but not at you. No, he could never be angry at you. He was angry to live in a world that would not hesitate to tear you apart. Losing each other was not an option. Even if you had the right words, it would still burn to say them. One day, decades after the war had ended, you mentioned this instance for the first and last time since. You found that even then, you and Donny still had trouble with the idea of losing each other. Why? Well...in these times, you were all that the other had. You were the only sign of hope in a cruel world to each other. Saying goodbyes was not an option. Lucky for you, you didn't have to. No, not this time. But in war who really knew when? All you really had was the dawn as the moon fell away in the horizon, yielding to the pastel streaks of orange in the sky. You finally answered him. Yes, Aldo sent you but you were the first to volunteer to go. If anyone could find Donny, it was you. All the basterds knew that. "I just wanted a happy ending. That's all." "Happy ending... with me?" He shook his head, knowing war was no place for those words. "That's a stupid thing to die for." His voice was low, and he turned away. Even he didn't believe himself. "What?" You wanted him to say it again, and to look you in the eyes. If he could do that, you'd believe him. He turned to you, "They did this to you because of me. No one gets a happy ending like that." You turned your head away, and your eyes raised to the farthest point. You didn't want him to see you tear up at the harsh words. But he saw anyway. And...it broke his heart. "I'm sorry..." He really didn't mean it. He knew he would have done the same for you, and in his mind, that was anything but stupid. "I just can't lose ya doll... Not in this world."

"You could never lose me," you smiled taking his hand. He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you. The war could take basterds like Michael and Simon and wipe out entire towns, but it could never take away his love. Some day you'd be home again. The memories and nightmares of the ugliest things the world had to offer would never leave Donny, but neither would you. "I'm sorry." "Why would you be," you shook your head, and he said "Because I love you." You looked up at him. He meant every word. "Losing you is losing everything, realizing how ugly the world really is. If I had to go home without you, you'd still follow me everywhere. I'd see your ghost in the snow, in the sun, all the time, everywhere. I can't be without you. I'd let myself be haunted, just so the idea of you would stay with me. And I'm so afraid of that." "They won't keep us apart. They won't win." Donny kissed you. He was tired of being scared of losing you, and tired of being scared of having you. There was only so much a man could take after all. He dried your tears and you marched on together, your heart beating just as strong as his. It was time to go. It was time to return to the basterds, to the war, to the mission. But in that moment you both understood wherever you went, you would go together.

#Inglourious Basterds #inglourious basterds imagine #Donny Donowitz #donny donowitz imagine #donny donowitz x reader #aldo raine

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nightingaelic · 4 years ago

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Not a good idea, maybe, but still... NV Followers' reaction to how the Courier tells the follower that sometimes all their adventures seem like a kind of deathbed dream to them (a bullet in the head after all...)

Just know, anon, that I am strongly resisting the urge to go full Shane Madej and Ryan Bergara with every single one of these reactions.

"Maybe this is all just... me." The courier waved their hand through the scorching air, tracing the shimmering line of the horizon that sang false promises of water. "A mirage. An oasis in the desert that I can't quite reach, but my eyes keep telling me is there if I just walk far enough."

Their hand went to the scar on their forehead. "I don't know. The things I've seen, since Goodsprings... if I told them to half the people in the Mojave, they'd toss me in the same shack as No-bark. HELIOS One? The Burned Man, in the crispy flesh? Jason Bright and his followers? Hell, the Sierra Madre? How do I know I didn't actually bite the dust in that graveyard, and all of this is the work of the bullet Benny put in my noggin?"

Arcade Gannon: "I guess there isn't a very convincing way I can answer that question," Arcade admitted. "But the fact that I know exactly how close you came to dying could be some evidence to the contrary. I doubt you were walking around with much medical knowledge about cranial vulnus sclopetarium prior to encountering it firsthand."

The courier looked somewhat interested, so the researcher continued hesitantly. "Did that doctor who checked you out not explain what happened to your brain? It's honestly a miracle that you're still walking around."

"I might've been a little preoccupied with the shock of being awake," the courier admitted. "Here, show me."

They guided Arcade's hand to the wound site, which he felt gingerly, trying not to awaken any pain. "Okay, close, very close range, left side... trajectory was too high, so it missed the speech center... probably sustained the most damage in the frontal and parietal lobes... well that tracks, that would affect problem-solving skills and spatial relationships..."

"Arcade?"

"Mm-hm?"

The courier grinned. "Just keep talking to me in Latin and I'll stop caring whether I'm dead or not. It sounds nice."

Arcade blushed.

Craig Boone: "Mmm." Boone pondered the thought, but immediately felt the shadow of guilt fall over his shoulders. Had any of his targets felt that way as they lay dying? Had Carla? He tried to shake the feeling off before it reached his face.

The courier, for their part, didn't notice, or at least knew enough to pretend not to notice. "That snake Benny was using a handgun, too, and who knows what caliber," they said, looking off into the distance.

"Low," Boone offered.

"Come again?"

"The bullet," Boone clarified. "It's still in your head. Slow and small caliber, if you're not already dead from it."

"But I could already be dead from it."

"Nah."

The courier looked as though they wanted to probe further, but Boone straightened his sunglasses and walked past them, signaling that the conversation was over. Headshot wounds, hypotheticals, they weren't his strong suit, but he did know one thing: The orders he had followed and the lives he had ended were far too real to be the figment of some Mojave wastelander's imagination.

Lily Bowen: "Come now, dearie, you're giving your imagination too much credit." Lily patted the courier lightly on the shoulder. Well, as lightly as a nightkin could. "Grandma's seen many strange things too, ever since she left the vault behind."

The courier smiled. "Stranger than the ones I've seen? Like what?"

Lily made an ugly face. "I saw many things when working for the Master. Golden geckos in Klamath. Ghosts in Baja. The Master himself, with his brain in the computers and the computers in his brain."

"Eugh." The courier mimicked the face Lily was making. "One of those, huh? Always seemed unsanitary to me."

"Good things too," Lily went on wistfully. "I saw Marcus' first city, when it was big and full of people. Humans, but also super mutants, ghouls. How I would have liked to take Becky and Jimmy there."

Her voice faltered a little, remembering the grandchildren that had been lost, left behind long ago. The courier reached out and took her hand. "I'm here, Lily."

After the memory passed, Lily returned to her smiling self. "You are, pumpkin. We're here together."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "I know how you feel, boss." Raul sighed. "There are plenty of things in my past that I can't help but question the authenticity of. All I can say is that after a while, you stop asking and just go along for the ride."

"Right." The courier crossed their arms. "I suppose it's not that different a mindset from becoming a ghoul. Time stretching on in front of you, no clear end in sight, no expectation there will ever be one."

"Eh." Raul shrugged. "That might just be a mindset of mine. I stopped worrying about dying a long time ago. Or maybe I was looking for it, but never managed to find it. Either way, time doesn't bother me the way it used to."

"But it still does?"

"Sí. Now I worry more that I'll forget the crazy things I've seen altogether, or that they don't mean anything."

The young courier looked like they weren't quite ready to ponder that possibility. They stood together in silence for a while, watching the horizon's haze.

"Should we keep going?" the courier finally asked, shouldering their pack.

"Desde luego."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Sometimes I wonder the same thing," Cass replied with a nod. "Well, not the exact same thing, but somethin' similar. Plenty of times in my life, I've woken up in someone else's bed or on the floor of a bar and wondered if I actually survived the fight I was in the night before, or if I finally drank enough to make my heart stop. It's a strange feeling, but then someone douses me in water or slaps me too hard on the ass and the pain of the wakin' world creeps back in, little by little."

"Do you slap them back?" the courier joked, chuckling.

"Them and the world," Cass confirmed. "I always figured if I'd actually died in my sleep, why bother makin' up some desert full of sadness and sunburns to fill my time? Had enough of that in life, so I can't see my mind keepin' it around. Much rather conjure up a house by the beach somewhere, with a basement full of caps and enough booze to last me 'til the bombs fall again."

The courier eyed her mischievously. "Maybe you're in hell."

Cass held her canteen up. "Well then. To bein' stuck in hell with a true friend."

She drank, long and deep, and the courier retrieved their canteen to do the same.

Veronica Santangelo: "Oh, Six." Veronica's face filled with sympathy. "Is that really what you think about, when you're trying to sleep at night in the casino and Cass is snoring in the bed next to you?"

The courier blinked. "Cass snores?"

"How have you not noticed?" Veronica pulled her power fist off and flexed her fingers, re-stimulating her circulation as best she could. "Arcade said he wanted to trade with me, after Boone had his second night terror incident, but he changed his mind again after one night of her racket. At this point, I'm used to it. When she's not around, I have trouble sleeping, can you believe that? Brotherhood bunks really prepared me for the Lucky 38."

"No, I hadn't noticed." The courier sat down on a nearby rock and stretched their legs out. "I guess I haven't been there much, lately."

Veronica sat down next to them. "You know, the more often you're gone having adventures around the desert, the more crazy things you're going to see. People who rest on their laurels and stick to the Strip don't lie awake wondering if they actually died back when they choked on those buffalo gourd seeds at The Gourmand."

"Touché."

ED-E: The eyebot let out a few beeps of disagreement and rolled from side to side in mid-air, indicating as best it could that in its experience, being shot in the dome was a good method for scrambling circuitry but was actually terrible for fusing new connections. The courier laughed and reached out to rub the robot's side. "Thanks, buddy. Maybe I'm right, or maybe reality is just a weird place."

ED-E beeped its satisfaction and bounced forward as if chasing the mirage. The courier trailed after the eyebot, their giggles blowing out with the wind into the desert for all to hear.

Rex: The old cyberdog whined and licked its companion's hand, uncertain what they were asking. Any dreams the canine had were good ones, long runs over grassy plains and prey that was always a hair too slow. Life with the courier was good too, but full of many more dangers than a savannah dotted with rabbits and deer. The courier scratched the dog on his ruff affectionately, before continuing over the hot sand toward their destination. Rex followed behind, happy and panting.

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builtyouahousefromabrokenhome · 2 years ago

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Favourite albums of 2022 :3

- Sam Fender: Seventeen Going Under (Live Deluxe) (just because I listened to the studio album so much this year) - FKA Twigs: Caprisongs (I love her and she’s the only woman on this list, shame on me) - Wilco: Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (Deluxe 2022 remaster) (they released a new album too but I don’t like it that much ^^) - Harry’s House - Faith In The Future - Manic Street Preachers: Know Your Enemy (Deluxe 2022 remaster) - RHCP: Unlimited Love (I used to be such a huge fan like 15 years ago, but I only noticed just now they’ve released a second album this year? Return of the Dream Canteen ...?) - Bruce Springsteen: Only The Strong Survive (I’m the dyke on dyke crime of the UK charts personified! xD)

#I needed distraction tonight so here goes :3 #fave albums

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

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hi i love ur writing so much!! can i request something with mutual pining, denial of feelings, idiots-to-lovers, hurt/comfort/angst , maybe some jealousy and fluff and smut if you want i just need something really angsty with javier peña, frankie m or din djarin?? tysmm!!!!!

The Bantha (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Being an animal lover does not work well with the plans the Tuskens and Mos Pelgo citizens have to kill the krayt dragon. A retelling of S2E1 of the Mandalorian: The Marshal.

W/C: 4.4K

Warnings: talk of animals being harmed/dying, lots of arguing and angst, Vanth kind of is gross bc I hate his character aha, we respect the Tuskens in this house and use proper terminology for them, language, tiniest mentions of alcohol

A/N: Not gonna lie, the idea for this fic came to me pretty quickly but it took me a long time to properly figure it out. Lots of drafting and editing so THANK YOU to my beta readers, you’re all the best ever!! Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long but I hope it’s worth it!

Of all the dilemmas you’d expected to face as you traveled the galaxy with a tiny, Force-sensitive, 50-year-old toddler and a Mandalorian with the emotional capacity of the earlier-mentioned child, the last one you’d ever predicted you’d face had to be the challenge of ridding a tiny desert town of a giant sand beast that eats their banthas.

“You are so fucking dense,” you groan as you and Din settle on a speeder bike, the little green child tucked in a wrap on your chest. “You’re a Mandalorian, a battle-worn bounty hunter with a kill streak probably in the thousands, and some random man asks for your help and not only do you fucking freely give it, you decide to help them kill the sand dragon terrorizing their town.” You groan to him, rubbing your temples.

Din nods and starts up the speeder bike. “You don’t need to summarize what we just lived through,” he grunts and you wrap an arm around him.

“I do, because I need to clarify that your dumb ass would do that. Sometimes I really do think you don’t have a brain under that beskar bucket,” you shake your head, trying to keep the anger that you’re feeling. If you’re not careful, it’ll turn to adoration and love.

You’ve been battling your feelings for Din for a while now, trying to force the giddiness bubbling in your chest deep down inside. The man is everything you look for in a partner: strong, committed, tall, protective. He’s good with the child, adorably cuddly and loving. He’s even funny sometimes, making dry-humored remarks around the ship.

“Excuse me for caring,” the man grumbles through the modulator. He’s strong and warm beneath your arms, the Tatooine heat making the beskar warm like your bunk in the morning when you don’t want to get up. Stop it, stop it you remind yourself. This is not the time to be enraptured by the Mandalorian man’s body.

That’s yet another trait you love about him- how caring he is. He’s a bounty hunter, a warrior by oath who never shows his face and probably knows millions of ways to kill someone with his bare hands. Yet he cares. He raises the child well; he even raised him alone before you came into the picture. He puts himself in harm’s way for innocent people on the daily, all because he simply thinks it’s right.

You take a sip from your water canteen and hand it to the baby on your chest so he can drink too. “No, I will not excuse you for caring when you’re doing stupid shit, Din,” you scowl and cap the canteen as two three-fingered green hands give it back to you. “You came here- we came here, our family did, to find Mandalorians. There are none.”

“This man will give me his beskar if we help,” Din hisses, revving the engine of the speeder, non-verbally telling Vanth to get moving. The man is dawdling along, a few meters away, as he packs his bike up.

“What do you need it for, huh?” You ask him, throwing your arms up in exasperation. “I’m not a Mandalorian. This little shit doesn’t need beskar. You have a full set of armor already.”

“Beskar belongs to me, to my people, by my Creed,” he says, articulating himself with his hands too. It’s a habit he’s picked up from you. “You wouldn’t ask a Tatooinian to deprive themselves of the moisture they farm.”

You put your face in your hands and groan. “No, you’re right, because they fucking need water to live. You do not need beskar to survive, Din!” You shout, getting off the speeder bike. “And please, forget I called us a family. We’re clearly just a bounty hunter and his… assistant, whatever the fuck I am, and some little kid we picked up for the ride.” You stalk off towards the building.

“Where are you going?” He asks as you turn.

Cobb is standing to the side somewhere, and you approach him. “You got another speeder? I don’t want to put up with him for the ride.”

The man chuckles and claps your shoulder. “Sure thing, pretty thing.” He wanders off and returns about a minute later with another speeder. Din watches the two of you in annoyance, visible from his rigid body language. “Hop on. You know how to drive?” You nod once and he heads to his own speeder. “I’ll lead. You two follow.”

The ride is uneventful at first. Cobb Vanth tells the two of you the story of how he came to be the town marshal, and Din nods his silent comprehension when the man in beskar looks over at him. Most of the stories are aimed at you, desperate to crack your stony anger. It doesn’t work. You stare straight ahead, daring to break your frown into a neutral expression when the little green baby coos excitedly at the wind in his ears.

There are valleys and caverns to navigate through, nimbly ducking and weaving on your speeder bike. The kid loves it, squealing happily when you fly over a bump or turn a sharp corner. It’s a joyride to him.

When Din and Vanth suddenly stop your ride, you panic, holding the child close against your chest. From your holster, you grab your weapon and stand next to the two men. The growling noises are revealed to be massiffs, huge dog-like lizards. You squeal in delight, immediately dropping to your knees and summoning the beast in Tusken.

“What in the hell is she doin’?” Vanth mutters to Din as the big animal comes bounding toward you.

“She’s always like this with animals. Thinks they’re all big puppies,” Din rolls his eyes but can’t help himself: he smiles beneath his helmet as the beast licks your face and you scratch its sides.

You’re such a wonderful person, Din sighs, even though he’s mad at you. You’ve always been amazing with other species, like massiffs and the little green child strapped to your chest. You’re so intelligent too: speaking seemingly endless languages.

“They are big puppies!” You coo and press a kiss to the forehead of one massiff. Another finds Din, who also bends down to give it scratches and attention. “Green bean, look!” You tell the child and put out his hand for the massiff to lick. “See? They’re our friends,” you tell him, admiring the way the little green child giggles at the scaly skin.

From around a corner, a Tusken appears, then several. You stand and lower your weapon, speaking to them first in their native language. “We mean no harm. You have beautiful massiffs,” you tell them then turn to Din and Vanth. “Drop the weapons.”

“Are you crazy?” Vanth shouts.

“We are here to put an end to the krayt dragon,” you explain to them in their language. “Your assistance and knowledge would certainly help us. You want it gone too, yes?”

They affirm you that it’s a yes, and you nod back at the men. You know Din understands. “They’re willing to help if you’ll stop being a douchebag.” Vanth starts to talk but you hold up a hand and cut him off. “I know, I know. We can strike a deal. Are you willing?”

Din’s heart is nearly exploding. In any other timeline, he’d be the one conducting negotiations, using his threat as a Mandalorian to run the show. But here you are, with your gentle nature, making deals and completing them through cooperation and kindness. It’s hard to speak in a soft tone when speaking Tusken, yet you can do it. All with a baby strapped to your chest. Maker, Din thinks, he might be in love with you.

Vanth sighs a few moments later. “Why the hell not?”

Din talks with the Tuskens for a while at the camp, planning and negotiating as night falls and the air starts to get cold. To entertain the child, you spend time with the banthas, brushing their fur and letting the baby get exposed to the animals.

The kid loves them. He coos happily as he strokes their thick fur, giggling as one of them gives him a kiss and covers him in slime. You wash him off and return, quietly talking with the Tuskens caring for the creatures.

You’ve taken a liking to them. They’re gentle and soft, like big lumbering puppies, really. They moo when you brush their fur just right, let their eyes slip shut when you scratch them between the eyes. You’ve always had a soft spot for animals, like Din said earlier.

Cobb likes you. That much is clear from the way he finds you when he’s not working with Din and the Tuskens, bringing you food and water as you and the child mind your business. He’s overly flirtatious, to the point of annoyance. He’s rude and crude about the Tuskens, calling them words you’d never use to describe a human.

Politely excusing yourself, you allow the child to run with some of the other Tuskens’ children and spot a silver-plated man sitting by the fire.

“Vanth is such a goddamn xenophobe,” you grumble as you sit down next to the fire with Din, the child off playing with some Tusken children. He’d ranted about the Tuskens as you rode with them, luckily in Basic so that the people couldn’t understand him.

“Thought you liked him,” Din says and cocks his head. “He certainly likes you.”

You roll your eyes and sip the canteen of water, looking at the crackling fire. “Those things are not mutually exclusive,” you chuckle, looking over at him. “What, are you jealous, tin can?” You tease and knock on his beskar pauldron.

“In your dreams, cyar’ika,” he teases. It’s clear to him that whatever tension had been between the two of you earlier has dissipated, enough for him to steal the water flask from your hand and pass it to the child as he toddles past.

“I was drinking that, you fucking bantha,” you laugh and smack him on an unarmored part of his arm. The Tatooinian desert gets cold at night, you find, and you pull into yourself a little more from the cold.

Din unclips his cape and drapes it over your shoulders, tucking it in beneath where your arms press against your ribs so that it wraps tight to your body. “Hm. You do have a heart under there,” you tease and sigh, naturally leaning against Din and resting your head on his shoulder pauldron.

“So it’s been said,” he nods and even dares to rest his head on top of yours. Through the bare spots in his beskar, he can feel the way your body radiates warmth into the chilly night. You spot a little green head toddling past again, much slower than the other children thanks to his tiny legs, and Din scoops him up.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur quietly, the roar of the Tuskens’ conversations creating a soft hum around you. “For what I said, when I yelled at you. You’re right. You really are just caring for them.”

He nods. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I’m more sorry for saying we aren’t a family. I mean, we are, right? Not that we’re like, a couple or anything,” you say hurriedly, your voice low as you stumble over your words. “But you and this little womp rat…” you muse as you scratch the baby’s little green head. “You are my family. That much is clear to me.”

Din nods once more. “I agree.”

You smile up at him. “What’s going on under that bucket, huh?”

He turns, looking off. “Just going over the plans for how we’re going to get that krayt dragon.”

“Ooh, share,” you ask, taking one of his hands and lacing through his glove-covered fingers. “I didn’t mean it when we said all of this for some banthas, you know. I’ve really fallen in love with them lately.”

Din is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t answer. “Din?”

He knows you’re going to hate him for this. Your big heart, your animal-loving, sweet talking kindness is not going be okay with this, but he has to tell you the truth. “We’re going to have to sacrifice some of the banthas for this mission to work.”

“What?” You exclaim, dropping his hand. “You can’t possibly do that.”

“We have to. We need to lure the dragon.”

“Do it some other way!” You frown, looking over at the big soft desert cows. “Seriously, please, Din.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he shakes his head. “They’re not sentient.”

“But they can feel!” You exclaim again, standing. “Fuck this. Why don’t you sacrifice yourself to the krayt dragon and see how that feels?” You shout, storming off. You’re aware it’s childish, but you stomp to your tent and lie down. You close your eyes and hope Din doesn’t come to find you.

Of course you didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t want Din to sacrifice himself to the krayt dragon. So why is he doing it? Why are you on your knees, screaming to the sky that he did exactly what you said?

You’d been avoiding him since that night, since you showed vulnerability and subsequently returned to anger towards the man. You’d wanted to apologize, but you couldn’t get over the sacrificing of the animals for the cause. You just couldn’t.

Din had flown straight into the sand dragon’s mouth, just seconds ago, and is now deep inside its bowels, you’re sure. You clutch the baby to your chest and wail, agonized and terrified. Vanth stands at your side, a hand resting on your shoulder as you wheeze and sob.

But this is Din. He must have a plan. He has to have a plan; he’s a battle-worn warrior and you’ve never seen him lose a fight. You’d stormed off before you could hear the rest of his plans the other night- maybe this was part of it. But the way Vanth stares at the dragon in terror makes you think that maybe it isn’t. Maybe Din just really fucked it up. You set the little green kid in his cradle and stand, sniffling and clinging to the metal sphere as if it’s your last lifeline to Din.

Suddenly, there’s a burst of green goo and out flies a shining silver rocket: it’s Din. “Oh thank the fucking Maker,” you shout as he lands not far from your small group, the wailing and dying sand beast behind him.

He’s covered in slime, but you’ve never been so happy to see the man. You rush to him and throw your arms around him, not giving a single fuck as you jump on him. “Please, never fucking do that again,” you wheeze into his cape, getting yourself covered in slime.

The hug is not comfortable. Din is all beskar where you want to feel his strong body, but it’s all worth it when he wraps his arms around you too. You’re crying, he knows it, and he knows just why. “I didn’t do it because you said it. You know that, right?”

You let go of him, sniffling and wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I was just so scared- oh Maker, Din, I can’t fucking lose you,” you admit, freely crying now. “I love you, I really do, and I can’t-“

“How?”

You look at him in confusion.

“How do you love me?”

This damn man. He’s full of surprises, just getting literally eaten alive by a krayt dragon, and now he’s asking you for a full emotional confession. You’re still reeling from the shock, but the fact that he’s there is enough. You don’t care that Cobb is definitely listening over your shoulder. “Every way. All of them. Romantic, friendship, family. You feel like my home and I want to be with you.” No better time than now, you suppose, to admit this all.

Din walks a step closer. “Romantic. Huh.”

“I hate that fucking helmet,” you admit, trying to deflect the emotion between the two of you. “I can never see your face. Can’t know what you’re thinking, your tone, your-“

Din cuts you off. “We ride back to the village and clean up. Meet me in the home as the suns set.”

What that means, you have no clue, but you nod. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” you murmur, putting a hand on the cut-out cheek of his helmet.

The town rejoices when you come back, shouting and celebrating over the dragon’s death and the plentiful meat that came with the creature. You’d joined in the reverie, taking a shot of spotchka and chanting along to a Tatooinian call-and-response they’d started. It was wonderful, really, and you and the little green thing were the stars. They admired the little green thing, cooing over him. You were proud to stand there as his mother.

The party died as the suns set. Din was notably absent from the hubbub, preferring to be alone as usual. You and the kid talked with the villagers, but as the suns started to sink, you excused yourself and found your way to the spare home you and Din each had rooms in.

Vanth and the women had taken the baby when you told them you were going to talk with Din. Not that it was hard: they all loved the little beast, showered him with affection. It was practically a competition over who got to play with him most.

The building has a warm glow as you wander over to it, wrapping your arms around yourself. The night has become cold now that the two harsh suns have sunk below the horizon, and it’s a relief to open the door to the home and feel the warmth radiating from a fireplace inside.

You find Din staring out of a window on the back, watching the endless wind sweep across the sand dunes, a dark sky contrasting the golden ground. Just his silhouette is visible, black against the deep blue. “Hi,” you say quietly as you walk in, the worn floorboards creaking beneath your feet no matter how deliberately you step. “Glad to see you got cleaned up.”

The man tilts his head in an obvious eye roll, even through the helmet. The slime was disgusting, although Din’s adoptive son had seemed to enjoy the gooey texture, as little ones are prone to. “I almost died and you’re already back to the sarcasm.”

“It’s called a coping mechanism,” you laugh gently and place a hand on his shoulder. There’s no beskar there, just soft fabric warmed by his body. It makes you shiver; even in the safety of the Crest, Din never takes off the armor. You wonder why it’s gone. Maybe to clean it?

Din’s quiet for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers splayed over his shoulder in such an affectionate gesture. “You know how much I trust you, don’t you?” He asks and the black visor turns toward you, admiring what’s visible of your face in the moonlight. Your eyes glimmer and he admires them, the color he’s always loved.

You nod and smile just a little, cheeks growing rounder with the movement. “Of course.” He’s trusted you with his son, the most important thing to him in the galaxy. There’s one clear gesture even now: the absence of the beskar from his form. Maker, he’s broad, shoulders just as wide as with the metal.

He nods and shuts the window’s shutters, allowing even less light in before turning to you. There’s just a soft glow in the room, outlining the shape of the helmet and his shoulders. You can’t see any detail, just the shape. He walks over towards the long comfortable seating in the middle of the room and you instinctively follow, standing in front of it and stopping when he stops, facing him. His hands find your shoulders and his fingertips brush down your arms until they find yours. “Take off my helmet.”

“What? No,” you exclaim, frowning even though he can’t see it.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, a hand gesturing, an even darker shadow through the already murky visibility.

“No.”

“My Creed says you cannot see my face. Not that I can’t remove the helmet.”

You gulp hard, your fingers lacing through his. They’re bare. You’ve never felt them before. Often you’ve wondered if they’re calloused and tough from his work, soft from being hidden beneath the soft leather for all those years, or somewhere in between. They do fall into that in between, but they’re warm and strong and large, even without the leather casing them.

“I can’t do that to you,” you shudder, squeezing his fingers. “It’s the very thing about you, that you can’t take it off,” you start to ramble. You want to, desperately, but there’s no turning back now. If you feel his face, if you’re even so lucky as to kiss him, you’ll never be able to get enough of it. You’ll be subjected to an eternity of longing, even more than you’re yearning now.

“I want you to,” he breathes, his beskar-covered forehead falling against yours. “Please, cyare.”

“Why don’t you hate me?” You ask, your voice straining. You need to keep stalling, need to keep pushing it off or you’re actually going to do it. “I’m so mean to you. All the time,” you point out to him. You do it to keep him away, but he’s persistent. He never seems to care. “All we do is argue.”

“I may not be able to use the Force like the kid,” he mumbles, bringing one hand up to cup your face. “But I can sense your feelings. You don’t hide them well.”

“Din,” you plead, biting your lip and closing your eyes to prevent the tears that are threatening to well in them. “You can’t do this.”

“I can, and I want to.”

“Why are you so fucking patient with me when I’m only ever a bitch to you?” You practically wail, half annoyed and half honored. “You’re such a good man, Din. You don’t deserve someone shitty like me. I’ve got no hunting skills, I’m too stubborn, I’m mean and-”

He stops you by lifting your hands, setting them on either side of his helmet. “You can’t see me, so it doesn’t break the Creed. I want you to do this, because I want you.” He’s eternally blunt, but in this moment you can’t tell if it’s breaking your heart or warming it. “I love you too. Please. Take it off.”

“This is your last fucking chance, Djarin,” you tell him with a wavering voice.

“Cyare.”

“Okay,” you nod and take a deep breath. Din unlatches the little bit at the bottom that keeps it sealed against his head, and there’s a soft rush of air. Your hands grip either side and you slowly lift it off. Din takes it once it’s gone and rests it on the plush seat.

Your hands are drawn to his face like you’re being pulled on a string, your skin prickling as you feel the stubble along his chin and jaw. Your fingers trace his face for a few moments, exploring the new terrain. His cheeks feel hot, and his lips make you shiver again with how soft they are. Swallowing hard, you dare to look at his silhouette, noticing his hair is mostly matted down from the helmet. “What color are your eyes, Din?”

“Brown.”

You smile at that, and you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands dropping to your sides. His arms encircle you and it feels perfect, like you were meant to be like this for all of eternity and it took you long enough. “Of course they are.”

He chuckles at that and presses a kiss into your head, his hands finding your waist. “I did take this off for a reason.”

You lift your head, looking at his just-visible shape. “Really? I don’t know what you mean,” you flirt.

He’s silent. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes, absolutely certain. “May I kiss you?”

The words are ever blunt, just like Din. “Yes, you bantha,” you tease, but the laughter is gone as his hands find your face again.

Just like that, his lips are on yours, radiating heat and love and it immediately tops the feeling of his arms around you. You gasp, not expecting him to do it so quickly, but your lips quickly meld to his and you sigh in content.

You stay like that for a while, hands traveling each other’s heads and necks and shoulders and sides as you kiss. He’s so warm and strong, his muscles just as sculpted as the indestructible metal that covers him. He’s so human.

After a bit, Din breaks away and presses his forehead to yours once more. He doesn’t speak, just rests there, his hands on your waist. His breath mingles with yours. For once, you’re speechless, unsure of what you can say back. The sarcasm has been stripped from your body like the beskar from Din’s.

“I better put the helmet back on,” he murmurs.

“Please don’t,” you whisper, tucking your face into the curve of his neck. You sit on the couch and he follows, desperate not to lose your touch. “Just… we’ll stay like this.”

He nods. He can’t say no when you kiss his neck feather-lightly, when your skin is pressed to his like this. He hasn’t had contact like this in years. He’ll prolong it as long as he can.

You do stay like that, relaxed and curled into each other. His arm wraps around you and you curl into a ball, nestled into his side. It’s been a long day for Din, you know, but the depth of it occurs to you as his breathing slows and his muscles relax.

He’s fallen asleep in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his neck and set a timer on the wrist-comm you’re wearing, so that you’ll both wake while it’s still dark in the room. For now, he deserves his rest. His face nuzzles into your hair, and he gives a soft sigh in his sleep. Yes, this is exactly what the beskar warrior needed: rest and you.

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saturnsummer · 3 years ago

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flutter and kicks

notes: from lay's @/__ryubeom tweet + a pregnant solhwi anon ask. in headcanon form since it's more spontaneous!

hello tumblr fam! i know, it’s been long... but ficfest and all has kept me kinda busy. a little different this time! a headcanon after a long time, since it’s more fun and easy on the eyes!

extra notes: drumstick reference to hospital playlist episode 4! a little reference to @scripturiends twitter au “dynasty” at the end. have fun! as usual, grammar mistakes by me!

attorney sol and prosecutor joon hwi have been married for a couple years, now well into their early thirties.

sol and joon hwi always take walks in the parks and wondered what it would be like if they had their own.

sol was initially hesitant, with her experience of broken families and having no dad figure. what makes her think her child could grow up in a loving family, if she didn't have one she could be a role model or look up to?

but joon hwi had it worse, having been an orphan from young, and raised by his uncle, his cousins, aunts and relatives ostracising him. yet, he still believed in the happy family he always wanted with sol.

he dreamt of kissing his kids good morning, sending them to school before going to work and sending his wife to work. on nights, they would work on their kid's homework together in fun ways and tuck them in bed after bedtime stories. they would spend the weekends at parks, meeting with seungjae's kid, and the children of their friends.

sol came round eventually, seeing how joon hwi never stopped believing. this time, it was different. joon hwi is not her father, nor is he her step father. he is han joon hwi, the man that saved her lives multiple times. han joon hwi, the man that stood by her when lee man ho was her biggest threat to her family. han joon hwi, the man who loves her, despite being a klutz in school.

he is han joon hwi, the man that loves her for every imperfection and perfection she has.

sol and joon hwi start trying for a baby, which is especially timely when kang sol's mom asks when is she gonna have a grandchild to hold and byeol pipes up saying she would love to have a brother as opposed to sister. (15 years with sisters have made her wonder what it would be to have a little baby boy in the house instead.)

a few weeks after their first time trying passes and sol has been feeling more tired. she's been busy with case after case at kang and park, so she doesn't think much.

only when she misses her period, she freezes. as stressed as she was, even in law school, she has never missed her period or was late. with shaky breaths, she wonders at the slightest chance of having a little life grow in her, as her hand unconsciously travels to her stomach.

sol is excited, but nervous at the thought that maybe nine to ten months later, she would have a child she can call her own in her arms.

over the weekend, sol raised this to joon hwi. joon hwi stops everything and even though he is beyond excited, he stays calm looking at how nervous sol is. together, they go out to get two pregnancy tests, where sol takes it.

the ten minutes of waiting were a complete torture for sol, as she paces back and forth.

"sol, stop pacing. you're going to burn a hole in our floor."

"joon! what- what if it really happens? i'm not ready! how are we ready? you just started your career in the prosecutor office, and i'm buried under cases! i can barely take care of my mom and byeol and myself, what about the child? oh no, what if i'm a bad mom?"

"honey, sit down. look, we'll get through this together okay? no one is ever ready for their first kid. remember seungjae-hyung? he freaked out the day juyeon-noona went into labour and he's a doctor! it's okay, just calm down, alright? do you want warm water?"

when the timer rings, they look at both the tests, showing the double lines indicating a positive test.

sol was pregnant. sol was going to be a mother. joon hwi was going to be a father. their family was starting.

shaking, sol finally let her emotions hit as her tears fall. she was so caught up worrying about herself, life, her work, family; she hadn't had time to process her own feelings on her own. she wanted the feeling of joy of holding her child. she wanted to know what it was like to share a mother's bond with a child.

joon hwi, looking at his wife, only hugged her as she teared up in happiness. his dream of having a family is finally coming. even better, his best friend, his biggest cheerleader, was next to him.

"what are you crying about? you should be happy!"

"j-joon h-hwi ah... we're going to be parents.."

but their journey was far from over. they booked an appointment with juyeon and made juyeon stay quiet about this. seeing the ultrasound and hearing the heartbeats of their unborn child was enough to move sol to another round of sobs and joon hwi held his wife's hand while the tears ran down his face. together, they smiled, knowing that a life was born and growing.

all could have been hidden, but seungjae walked in that moment, asking if his wife wanted to join for lunch. sol and joon hwi were prepared to lie, but having a printed ultrasound scan in their hands, and the fact that they were in juyeon's clinic, a OB-GYN clinic, confirmed suspicions.

"juyeonnie, do you want to go for— joon...hwi?"

"oppa..."

"ah, congratulations sol. congratulations joon hwi." seungjae only smiled looking at the best people he knew become parents. he recognised the pride in joonhwi's eyes, the same eyes he had when juyeon told him they were expecting.

the new parents smiled at their brotherly figure as they wished them a good lunch.

but out from the corner, yeseul spotted joonhwi and sol as she walked into the clinic and she locked eyes with sol. sol slams the door shut and drags joon hwi back and groans, letting a defeated whine.

"sol-ah, what's wrong?"

"yeseul is here! she's probably here for a regular check up, the one she told me about last month!"

and with that, their phones started beeping with countless notifications.

yeseul could put two and two together, especially when it wasn't just sol, but joon hwi in the clinic as well. she texted her boyfriend, bokgi, who spat out his soup when he was eating with yebeom, who sent a string of messages to the group chat.

when sol opens the door again, yeseul only gives a sheepish smile.

"yeseul ah..." sol sighs and joon hwi only smiles, too happy to hide this secret.

"sorry unnie, i can't miss the moment. congrats unnie, oppa! hello, seungjae-oppa, juyeon-unnie!"

"thank you, yeseul. we'll see you next week, as usual?"

behind them, seungjae grumpily argues with his wife.

"why are my ex-classmates seeing you more than i do? i literally work, like, five blocks down at the police station! they live all over seoul!"

"honey, let me see yeseul first, okay? then let's go get lunch. i heard they are serving drumsticks in the canteen today.”

-----

pregnancy wasn't easy for sol. she insisted on working, despite attorney park's orders to take on lesser cases in court. sol couldn't find it in her heart to reject her clients.

yeseul, working closer to sol, would lunch with her to make sure she eats for the sake of her baby. joon hwi did his best to join, despite sol's arguments to not bother and that she can care for herself.

her morning sickness was bad, and she would wake up giddy and nauseous. many times, joon hwi wanted to call jiho to ask him to cover him, but sol would not let him do it. she'll pull herself together and go to work, and promise to take work lightly.

on days she couldn't get out of bed and she was too tired, her mother would come over and cook her nutritious soups, stock their fridge with vitamins and supplements and tonics for sol.

sol's cravings were also odd. she was never one to like sweets, but she found herself craving sugary cakes, cookies and pastries. joon hwi made it a point to stock their cabinets with cookies and buy a cake whenever he could for his wife.

joon hwi was honestly the best husband anyone could ask for. he helped to tidy the house, clean the house while sol was resting. he made soups and tucked sol in bed on her down days.

sol felt bad that she was being cared for and doing nothing in return, but joon hwi would always remind her that she was already doing the most important job, which is to literally grow their kid inside her.

many nights before bed, they would sit together and their hands would rest on her stomach, as they whisper sweet things to their to-be child.

when sol first felt the kick of her child with joon, they smiled so wide, all exhaustion from reports and arguments in their offices were gone. all that mattered was their child responding.

yeseul was beyond excited, as she helped sol with getting furniture and clothes. the study group came together to help them set up a new cot in their small apartment, as the ladies sat while looking at the men, fixing a cot with much difficulty.

aunty yeseul was the first to buy a stuffed bunny for her unborn child, and sol b, even though she was usually cold, offered to babysit in the future.

eventually, attorney park made sol work at home instead of going to the office. she argued that professor kim eunsook was able to teach while pregnant, but attorney park only said "yang jonghoon's orders" and it was enough to shut her up from any complaints.

of course, professor yang. the only person attorney park really is afraid of and listens to.

when they found out that sol was having a boy, joon hwi was lost in thoughts, wondering if he will grow to be like himself. but sol only placed a hand over his and gave a comforting smile.

"remember what you said at the beginning? whatever it is, he will be of the next generation. from him, it will be different."

they then would discuss how they wanted joon hwi's dimples, sol's twinkling eyes and cheekbones and joon hwi's charming smile.

closer to the due date, jiho stepped in to cover for joon hwi as he started to work half days, afraid of leaving his wife at home. sol, now heavily pregnant, really only commuted to the bed from the bathroom and then to the table, where she would spend most of her time reading or doing something relaxing.

yeseul made sol put her on speed dial with sol b, just in case, and so they would be the first to know too.

the morning came when sol woke up to a wet bed and shook joon hwi awake when the contractions kicked in. joon hwi snapped out, grabbed their hospital bag and guided sol to the car where both of them spent the next day in the hospital as sol went through nine hours of labour pains, and another two hours pushing her baby boy.

joon hwi never left once, standing by her side and holding her hand as she pushed her baby out, wiping away the sweat from her face.

when the time came for him to be held in his mother's arms, sol only smiled, knowing that as tough as the past ten months of working, no caffeine and staying up late nights was, it was all worth it for the little life in her arms.

as his son's hand grabbed onto joon hwi's finger, joon hwi made a promise to love this child unconditionally, to guide him in the right direction and bring him up well. sol was right. from him onwards, it will be different.

welcome to the world, seungjun.

#solhwi #joonsolA #solhwi by akino #kang sol a #kang sol a x han joon hwi #han joon hwi #law school #jtbc law school #law school kdrama #kdrama #jtbc #jtbc drama #original by akinosakiya #pregnant sol a #husband han joon hwi #married solhwi #domestic solhwi #fluff

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

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Late in the Night | Part One

Prompt: Unrequited love/the love is requited, they’re just oblivious (Content Challenge Day 5)

Pairing: One-sided ( or is it ;) ) Female Reader x Legolas

Rating: G

Word count: 1847

Warnings: None

Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries

A/n Hello hello, and happy Day 5 of my content challenge! As always, you can find the challenge’s masterlist here and my personal masterlist here.

I’m making these last three days into a mini-series, so here’s part one! Also, for this story, I’m going with the “girl wakes up in Middle Earth” plot, but LOTR doesn’t exist in her world. So she doesn’t know anything about the characters or their journey. She just kind of fell through a portal between worlds. Y’know?

Translations (I think): Taur-e-Ndaedelos — Mirkwood // Eryn Galen — Greenwood

Reader’s POV

“And Miss Y/n, what will you do once this is all over? Will you go back home?” Pippin stops to let me catch up, bringing me into step with him and Merry.

I purse my lips, not wanting to give too much away. The others know that I have a bit of an, erm—strange— situation, but they don’t know that I haven’t got a home in Arda. We’ve had at least ten variants of this conversation already, and each time, I’ve managed to avoid participating. It seems my hobbit friend, though, is done letting that slide.

I shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “I haven’t really thought about that much…” Just in case there’s no ‘once this is all over’. “But I guess I would find a human town somewhere and build a life. I’ve learned quite a lot on this journey, so maybe I could make a living as a guard or even a seamstress, seeing how often I mend your clothes,” at this, I throw a teasing look at Gimli, who blushes. Out of all of us, he’s the most prone to non-battle related injury, and I often find him trudging back to camp with a rip in his sleeve after simple tasks like collecting firewood or refilling his canteen.

Pippin ignores my joke, and now I realize that I have the concern-laden eyes of all four hobbits. “You…would not go back home? You wouldn’t see your family?”

I sigh, avoiding Gandalf’s gaze. He said I was free to tell my companions that I am not of this world, but I haven’t yet worked up the nerve. The stress of figuring out how I got here, why I’m here…it’s too much to burden them with on this perilous quest. I stifle a little laugh, my exhausted mind finding humor in the situation. Maybe that’s what I’ll do ‘once all this is over’. I’ll tell them that I’m practically an alien.

Lost in my thoughts as I was, my silence drew the attention of Gimli and Boromir, and now I have six sets of concerned eyes regarding me. Great. I try to speed the conversation along so we can get to someone else. “Well, I haven’t seen my family in quite a long time…I think they think I’m dead, actually, and for all I know, they could be too…” This thought troubles me greatly, and I hurry to replace it with something else, forcing my voice to sound cheery and hopeful.“But that only means that I’m free to go anywhere—explore any place I like.”

Pippin looks quite heartbroken at my words, and I scramble to think of ways to fix it. But before I can, he grips my hand tightly in his, and I feel Merry mirror his actions on my other side. They look up at me triumphantly, smiling brightly. “You can come live with us, in The Shire,” Pippin declares, to which Sam nods earnestly. Frodo, as always of late, seems distracted, but offers me a distant smile.

A laugh of shocked joy escapes my lips, and I look between my valiant hobbit friends with possibly even more affection than before. “Do they even allow that? Big Folks moving into The Shire?”

“Sure they do,” Merry brushes away my concerns, appearing quite assured of himself.

But Pippin only shrugs, seemingly having not a care in the world. “And if they don’t, we’ll just sneak you in.”

“Gondor would be happy to host you as well,” Boromir adds, surprising me a little. We haven’t talked much on this journey, so it’s nice to know that he sees me as enough of a friend to invite me to his home.

Feeling much better, I squeeze Merry and Pippin’s hands. “Thanks, you guys. Really.”

{***}

We stop when it gets too dark for most of us to see.

“We are too far from Rivendell’s borders for me to feel comfortable.” Aragorn shakes his head slowly as he considers our surroundings and the potential risk we face. “I would ask that we keep a double watch tonight, and for many nights to come. Y/n, Legolas?”

Legolas—the only one of us who seems to have an endless supply of energy—jogs to a tall rock a couple hundred meters from camp, and begins to climb. I’m a bit slower to follow.

In the past three weeks, Aragorn has put me on watch eight times, the most only after himself and Legolas, and definitely more than our other companions. Sam shoots me an apologetic look and quietly promises to bring us dinner as soon as it’s ready.

I grab my cloak and follow Legolas’ path, trying to keep my annoyance to a minimum. After all, it’s not the worst thing in the world…staying up most of the night with Legolas, just the two of us.

He hears me coming and turns around with a welcoming smile, lowering a hand to help pull me onto the boulder. His hand is so warm in mine, so solid, and I find myself wishing he wouldn’t let go.

But of course he does, taking his hand from mine the moment I’m settled next to him. I tuck my hands into my cloak, trying not to lament the loss. Regardless of my quickly-growing feelings towards my elven friend, he has never given me an indication that he sees me as anything more than that, a friend, and I need to respect that.

He fixes me with a raised eyebrow, somehow both looking at me and the landscape over my shoulder. “Are you alright with staying awake tonight? It has been a while since you slept fully.”

I freeze, caught in a sudden burst of happiness. He noticed that? Has he been paying attention to me?

Legolas continues, and the fledgling hope that perhaps my affections for him aren’t as one-sided as I thought comes crashing down. “I could speak to Aragorn. It is no issue for me to stand watch alone.”

I briefly close my eyes, berating myself for my stupidity. He’s not commenting on your well-being, he just doesn’t want to have to be alone with you for the next five hours. He must somehow know of your feelings and wants to discourage them — because really, why would an elf want to be with a human?

I purse my lips, desperately not wanting him to know I’m upset. “No, it’s okay, thank you though. I’ll do my part.” My words come out a bit more cooly than I intended, but that’s just as well. Best to seem unattached.

He nods, giving me a funny look, then turns to look back out on the vast expanse of trees.

Nearly an hour passes in silence, then Sam visits, bringing dinner with him. Aragorn had managed to find two rabbits, so we eat well tonight. I savor it, knowing we might not be so lucky tomorrow, or the day after next. As usual, Legolas chooses to eat standing, not willing to sacrifice his careful watch over our surroundings. Knowing he’s got it covered, I sit down on the rock with Sam, having a make-shift picnic. Still, I keep my daggers close and periodically take note of the sounds of the forest, just in case. Sam entertains us with stories from his childhood and of life in The Shire. At a tale of how he and Frodo found themselves running from a furious farmer in the middle of the night, even Legolas cracks a smile.

But eventually, the food is gone and Sam is stifling yawns, so he bids us goodnight, leaving me alone with Legolas once again.

I stand, brushing the dust off my leggings, and take my place next to him.

His eyes never leave the horizon, but I hear his voice, soft, quiet, and almost hesitant-sounding. “Is it true that you haven’t a home to return to?”

I’m a bit caught off guard. During that conversation earlier in the day, Legolas was all the way at the front the group, leading with Aragorn. I didn’t know he’d heard that. “Uh, yeah.” I nod, trying to project a confidence I don’t really feel. “It is.”

He goes silent, and stays silent for such a long time that I think that’s all the conversation we’ll have. But then, he speaks again, his voice steady and deliberate. “My home, Taur-e-Ndaedelos, is not safe right now.”

“Oh.” I blink. Is he opening up to me? I try to respond delicately, not wanting to accidentally discourage him from sharing his feelings in the future. “I am sorry. That must be very difficult.”

He waves off my apology, meeting my eyes for the quickest of moments and then turning once more to the landscape before us. “My people get by. I only meant that, perhaps…well, if we succeed, and the Great Evil is defeated, Taur-e-Ndaedelos will be safe, and might even be called Eryn Galen once more.” He shifts from one foot to the other, something I’ve never seen him do. “You would be welcome there.”

A smile—the widest one I’ve managed in a while—spreads over my face, and try as I might, I am unable to reel it in. Because even after all this is over, when the time would come naturally for us to part ways, he wants me still in his life. I’ve always figured that it would hurt me to be parted from him, but I never dreamed that he would feel the same way.

Legolas seems to grow agitated by my silence, and turns to look at me with a measure of stress in his brow. But once he sees my reaction to his words, the lines in his face soften into a grin of his own. “Gimli is similarly without a permanent dwelling. I have extended an invitation to him as well.”

Oh.

Of course.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at myself, feeling incredibly stupid. Of course I would read into his words. He didn’t mean anything significant by them, he was just offering me a place to stay, like he obviously would to any of his friends. Because he is a kind, good, and noble ellon.

Of course he doesn’t feel the same way as I do.

I was silly to hope.

I try to keep the smile plastered to my face and not let him see my crushing disappointment. That would be horribly embarrassing, and I’m not sure I could take the pity that would surely be on his compassionate face if he had to verbally express his disinterest.

“That—” my voice sounds annoyingly weak, and I clear my throat to correct it. “That’s really kind of you, Legolas. Thank you.”

There’s a question in his eyes, but he doesn’t ask it, only nods once and returns to his watch of the forest.

For my part, I try to turn all of my focus to the task at hand, reminding myself that, even if he never loves me back, I am truly lucky to have such a wonderful friend.

A/n See you all tomorrow with part two! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! Also, let me know if you would like a tag.

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