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petersasteria · 4 years ago

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drivers license - Tom Holland

Pairing: Tom x Singer!Reader Requested? Nah 3,561 words

I was going to write this when the song came out, but as you observed, i wasn't writing bc i wasn't happy anymore. but here it is. enjoy.

Tom || Main || Taglist

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“I want you to meet my friend. She’s super nice and stuff. Maybe she could sing the soundtrack of one of my short films!” Harry said happily. “Anyway, she’s an amazing singer and she’s inviting me to the recording studio tomorrow. Want to come?”

Harry looked at Tom and waited for his response. The eldest Holland brother opened his mouth to say something, but Sam entered the room and interrupted. “Y/N’s my friend first, you know. I introduced her to YOU.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Besides, I suggested for her to invite you guys. Thank me later.”

“Thank you.” Harry mocked. “So, will you come with me-”

“Us.” Sam corrected. “Will you come with US tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll come so both of you can shut up.” Tom laughed before scrolling through his phone again.

Tomorrow came and the three Hollands went to the recording studio where you were currently at. When they got there, you were in the booth recording your song which will be on your first EP. You were just starting in the music industry and you were still testing the waters and finding your sound.

The three men sat down on the couch and listened to you. It was safe to say that Tom immediately fell in love with your voice and he made a mental note to compliment your voice for when you’re done recording. After recording two songs, you were finally taking your break. As soon as you stepped out of the recording booth, Sam ran up to you and engulfed you in a tight hug.

“I missed you! You sounded amazing!” Sam said giddily. He was really happy and really proud of you.

“Thank you!” You said gratefully with a huge smile on your face. Sam was your first ever friend and he was your first audience. Needless to say, his opinions matter to you the most. He was more supportive than your family will ever be.

“I can’t believe my Christine will be doing great things on her own now.” Sam pouted. He called you ‘Christine’ and you earned that nickname because of Phantom of the Opera. You were his Christine and he was your Phantom. It was perfect.

“But I’ll always stay the same, Sam.” You said in pure honesty. You looked over his shoulder and saw two of his brothers.

“Hi, Harry!” You waved, recognizing his curly hair despite only meeting him five times. Harry waved back and that left Tom. He stood up and walked towards you and Sam to formally introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Tom; Sam’s older brother.” He smiled sweetly. He offered his hand for you to shake and you gladly took it and gave it a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You smiled before letting go of his hand.

“Your voice is just wow! You have a gift.” Tom complimented which made you shy. “Thank you.” You said sheepishly.

Sam cleared his throat, “So, lunch?”

The four of you had lunch at a small chicken wing restaurant. It was cheap, hidden, and there were only five other customers which was great. You talked about so many things and eventually, Tom asked about your friendship with Sam.

“Wait, how did you and Sam meet?” Tom asked, taking a bite of his chicken wing. You took a sip of your drink and swallowed your food before answering.

“I was homeschooled my whole life and when I told my mum that I wanted to enroll in a random course just to know what it feels like to have classmates, she enrolled me in a culinary course. Let’s just say that I’m surprised that I passed!” You and Sam laughed as you thought about the shit both of you did.

“We sat next to each other and we were cooking partners. She was so awkward!” Sam laughed, wiping a tear that escaped from his eye. “But I’m glad she was put in the seat next to me because if not, I wouldn’t have gotten to know her. I honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Same.” You nodded in agreement. “Sam’s my best friend in the whole world and I honestly wouldn’t know what to do without him. He’s my rock.”

Sam turned his head to look at you and smiled, “Same.”

“Ugh, just date already!” Harry said with his mouth full. He even rolled his eyes in the process.

“Ugh, just swallow already!” Sam mocked.

“That’s what she said.” You giggled. The table erupted with laughter and you were happy that you got to meet new people, thanks to Sam.

“I meant his food!” Sam breathed.

“It sounded wrong, though.” Tom chuckled.

“Very.” Harry said with a playful look on his face.

After lunch, Sam told you that they had to go home already. You were visibly upset because you haven’t seen your best friend in such a long time and you had so much fun with his brothers. It’s true what they say; time flies by when you’re having fun.

“I’ll call you tonight.” You told Sam. He nodded and said, “I shall wait for your call, then.” You hugged him and hugged Harry right after.

“It was nice seeing you again, Y/N!” Harry exclaimed before pulling away from the hug. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for your next meeting. You turned to hug Tom and not only did he hug you, but he also kissed your cheek which surprised you, Sam and Harry.

“I’d love to hang out with you again.” Tom said after hugging you. “But without these two divs.” He added earning a slap on the arm from each boy.

You quickly glanced at Sam and he just nodded for you to go. With that go signal, you turned to Tom and said, “Okay! I’ll give you my number and just text me later.”

Tom ended up texting you that night and he asked you out on a date. One date turned into two and two dates turned into three until both of you went on so many dates now. Despite the four year age gap, you two seemed to click. You didn’t have a label yet, though.

It all changed one night.

It was midnight and Tom decided that it’ll be fun to go on a spontaneous road trip. He picked you up and now you were on the road going God knows where. It was random, but it was really fun. Your parents were out of town, so you were confident in going with Tom on his road trip.

Both of your windows were down and you put your hand out to feel the wind. It was a great feeling. Tom was looking at you from time to time and he was smiling to himself. He stopped at a red light and you brought your hand back in again despite the fact that there were no cars around.

“I have a question.” Tom said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asked before driving again as the light turned green. You were surprised with his question and even more so when he started driving again.

Tom looked at you and saw your shocked face before turning to look at the road again. “I mean, you don’t have to answer now. Like, take your time. I just asked because I really li-”

“Yes.” You finally answered after being silent. He stepped on the brakes in shock and said, “What?”

“Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” You grinned. He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, “Wow. The most amazing girl in the world is finally my girlfriend. It’s a great day already.”

That day was the start of a new chapter for both of you. Sam and Harry knew it would happen eventually. Harry was really happy, but Sam felt as though he was in between something; he was torn in between something. Little did he know, his hunch was right and he’ll soon find out why.

Tom was a great boyfriend. He made sure to think about your feelings before doing or saying anything, he made sure to include you on things because he knew you didn’t want to feel left out, he made sure to give you space when you would write songs, he picks you up all the time because you don’t know how to drive yet, but he didn’t mind; he loved it. Tom always told you that he loved you, he would send you memes that he knew would make your day, he tells you cheesy pick up lines and he would tell you jokes that catered to your humor which you greatly appreciated. In your eyes, he was perfect; he was your home.

For you, Tom was the one. He was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with and he told you the same thing. He said that when the time was right, he would propose and both of you would get married and he would give you the family you always wanted because your family didn’t really care about you and he hated that. You deserved the world and he promised you that both of you would have a family that’s so much different than yours.

Speaking of family, the Hollands loved you. They became your family. You and Nikki would have tea together and just gossip about things. You and Dom would joke around and Paddy would always challenge you in football. Harry just loved your presence and it came to a point where you would be his model whenever he wanted to take pictures. Tom would always whine and ask why Harry never asked him and Harry would say, “You’re the least interesting to look at.”

“Excuse me, what?!” Tom replied, pretending to be hurt. He knew Harry was just joking and quoting Kim Kardashian. “I’m the most handsome guy here.”

“Okay, Shrek.” Harry shrugged and continued taking your pictures.

Regardless of the sinking feeling that he felt, Sam was still happy that you found happiness in dating his brother. He did give you a go signal, after all.

Of course, all good things come to an end. In this case, your end came after dating for two years.

Tom was away filming for yet another movie and something in your gut told you that something was extremely wrong. You weren’t the jealous type, but every time you would FaceTime Tom, everything was off. The vibe was different and you didn’t like it.

The bad feelings you have solidified when it was revealed that Tom was starring in a film with a blonde girl who was the same age as him and she was gorgeous. You always felt that Tom might leave you for her and when you told Tom that, he assured you that nothing was going on and that you were crazy for even thinking about it.

It got to a point where both of you would always argue because of it. It got to a point where both of you avoided each other for a few days until Tom got back. He was outside your house and he texted for you to come and meet him by his car. You did and you didn’t know what to say. It was your first relationship after all.

Tom looked at you with his hands in his pockets, “I don’t think we should go on anymore.”

“What?” You asked, confused.

“We’re done, Y/N. It’s just not working anymore.” Tom explained. “You don’t trust me and we’re always fighting.”

“Wait, we’re not going to talk about this?” You asked him. He just shook his head. “So you’re willing to throw two years down the drain?”

“It’s just two years, Y/N. Get a grip, it’s not a divorce.” Tom huffed. “I have to go.” With that, he got in his car and drove away, leaving you standing there confused and hurt and feeling different kinds of emotions.

You figured that everything was just a nightmare and that when you wake up the next day, everything’s fine. Of course, you were wrong. When you woke up the next day, Tom blocked your number and on social media and it broke your heart. Then when you went on Twitter, Tom Holland was trending because apparently, he’s dating the blonde girl he told you not to worry about. You were still in denial, but when you called Sam, he just told you not to bother his brother.

“It’s true, isn’t it? He left me for her.” You said with a hoarse voice. Sam was silent on the other line. You could only hear his breathing. “Hello?” You called out.

“Y/N, I have to go.” Sam said softly.

You bitterly chuckled, “I lost him and now, I lost you. This is fun.”

“It’s not like that. I just don’t want to get in the middle of-”

“It’s okay, I get it. He’s your brother. Don’t be sorry or anything. Thanks for the years of friendship, Sam. I’ll forever treasure it. Thank you, truly.” You said before hanging up, not waiting for him to respond. Unbeknownst to you, Sam was extremely hurt for being part of the reason why you’re hurting. He removed the phone from his ear and looked at it. Tom cleared his throat causing Sam to look at him.

“Was that Y/N?” Tom asked. Sam nodded. “What did she say? What did you tell her?” Tom asked again.

“I told her not to bother you and just like that, our friendship is over. So, I hope you’re happy.” Sam frowned as tears clouded his vision.

Tom scoffed, “You don’t need her. You have so many friends. Plus, you have me. Anyway, get dressed. We’re going to the pub.” Tom left Sam’s room. Sam sighed and wiped his tears. He felt terrible.

As for you, in the span of twenty-four hours, you lost your best friend and the man you loved most in the whole world.

You’re currently crying tears of joy because your new song played on the radio and it’s your first time hearing it. Your whole team was really proud of you and they were your new friends and family now. Ever since your break up with Tom, they were there for you. They helped you get back on your feet until you were ready to write another song.

The said song is now playing on the radio and is being streamed by millions.

“Congrats, Y/N!” Your manager, Anya, said. “We’re all so proud of you!”

“Thank you.” You sniffed and wiped your tears.

Your song received good reviews and it’s included in Billboard’s Top 100. Every talk show host wanted you on their show for you to perform your hit single. Everyone wanted to talk to you about the song. Anya made it all happen. You were booked left and right and all the blessings were just coming in. You were extremely happy.

On the other hand, Tom knew the song was about him and it annoyed him because everywhere he went, your song was playing. Even Sam plays it a lot. It was clear that Sam missed you, but he made his bed and he has to lay in it.

“Guess what.” Harry said.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Y/N’s nominated for an award and she’s going to the award show you’re going to.” Harry announced which made Tom groan. “Also, people somehow figured out that the song is about you and now they’re assuming things and they want to know the story, especially your side.” Harry added.

“Easy.” Sam piped up. “Just tell them you left her for another girl and you dated the said girl right after you broke up with Y/N.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Tom hissed. Sam looked at Tom with a blank expression and said, “You don’t have the right to be angry after what you did to her.”

“Why are you defending her now? Why not a few months ago when it was still fresh?” Tom retorted.

“Because I didn’t want to get in the middle of your mess and I still care about her. Unlike you, I can’t just throw years of friendship away.” Sam said before leaving the living room.

“Yikes.” Harry said after Sam left. “Anyway, you have to act like it doesn’t bother you, so it’s not an issue.”

The day of the awards show finally came and you were nervous. It was your first time performing for an extremely huge audience and it made you anxious. The red carpet was all a blur and at one point you saw Sam and both of you made eye contact. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and he did the same. What he did still hurts you, but you wanted to let go of that part of your life now.

When it was your time to perform, your phone buzzed and a notification from a number appeared. You have deleted Sam’s contact number, but you memorized his number in case of emergencies.

“Good luck on your performance, my Christine. I’m proud of you.” He wrote.

You smiled a bit before locking your phone and giving it to your manager. Somehow, it was comforting to know that Sam still had your number and that he was still supporting you despite what happened. You walked on stage and began singing your heart out. The crowd loved it and it made you happy.

“She’s so good!” Sam exclaimed as he clapped for you.

“Please, she sounds like the other artists here. She’s not special.” Tom said as he plastered a fake smile on his face. Harry scoffed and said, “Yeah, right. You fell in love with her voice the first time you met her. Don’t lie.”

Tom never responded to that and kept his mouth shut.

An hour later, the category you were nominated for was up and it made you nervous. You believed you weren’t going to win because the other nominees were well known singers. But for some miracle, you won and the camera panned to Tom to see his reaction.

He wore a fake smile as he clapped. It was awkward. It was even more awkward when you walked past him and Sam stood up to grab your hand to say a quick ‘congrats’ which you thanked him for before walking to the stage to accept your first award ever.

“Wow, I can’t believe this. I want to thank my whole team for being so supportive and patient with me!” You smiled as you accepted the award. “Thank you to the amazing fans for their undying love and support. I wouldn’t have done it without you guys.”

“Lastly, I want to thank the guy who inspired the song.” You said as the camera panned to Tom again. “You know who you are and without you, there would be no songs or albums or EPs. You were the soundtrack of my love life and I’m beginning to accept that you’re not that person anymore. Thank you for everything and I hope that with this song, I can finally let go and start fresh.”

“Thank you again!” You said before leaving the stage. The people clapped for you except for Tom who just sat there with an expression no one could read.

You never interacted with Tom or his family the whole night and somehow, you were grateful for that. You never got a text from Sam anymore, but you did get a text from Tom’s new number a few days later asking for you two to meet in the place where you went on the spontaneous road trip to God knows where.

You drove up there with your new car and when you arrived, Tom was already there waiting for you. You parked and got out of the car before walking towards him.

“Hello.” You said, breaking the silence.

“Hi.” He said. “I figured we need to talk for closure.”

“Ahh. Yes, please.” You nodded.

“I don’t know where to start.” Tom admitted.

“Maybe start with the reason why you just left me.” You said bluntly.

“I just didn’t feel the spark anymore, okay? I grew feelings for someone else and I wanted to do it right without cheating, so I broke up with you and-”

“And got together with her the next day.” You finished for him. “Amazing, Tom. Really.” He didn’t say anything else anymore and you nodded and took this as your cue to leave. But before that you called out to him. He turned to look at you and you said, “Just know that I never lacked in our relationship. I’m just sorry that I actually believed that you were the one for me and I’m sorry that I believed what you said. I wish you all the best, Thomas. I do. You’re a great actor and I know your own blessings are still coming in.”

“Thank you.” He said. “You’re a great singer.”

You gave him a small smile and got in your car and drove away. The drive back hits differently because you remembered laughing with Tom as if the road trip happened yesterday, but it didn’t. You shook off the thoughts with a chuckle and just kept driving. You were finally letting go to start a new chapter in your life.

* * * *

who wants to see the soc med of this?

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @slutforsr @givebuckyhisplumsnow @buckys-little-hoe @runawayolives @chewymoustachio @hollandsrecs @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @juliediggory @lharrietg @alexx-stancati @rumplebutterbaby @dummiesshort @spideyspeaches @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @quxxnxfhxll @marvelsimps @dreamy-clousds @bora-world @hunnybunimdun @supred12

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @calltothewild @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow

#tom holland #tom holland one shots #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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path-of-my-childhood · 4 years ago

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Taylor Swift: Pop Star of the Year

By: Jonathan Dean for The Sunday Times Date: December 27th 2020

Rather than hunker down, the singer put out two albums in 2020 and won over new audiences. She’s the pop star of the year.

Taylor Swift met Paul McCartney in the autumn for a big interview in Rolling Stone. The two would have headlined Glastonbury this summer. Who knows if they will do that next year. Anyway, both recorded albums in lockdown, working from home like the rest of us. When they spoke, though, Swift had a secret. As well as Folklore, released in July, she had a follow-up record in the pipeline — Evermore, which was released this month.

Swift noted that the former Beatle was still so full of joy. “Well, we’re just so lucky, aren’t we?” he said. “We’re really lucky,” Swift replied. “I can’t believe it’s my job.” And she is right. Being a pop star is an extraordinary way to earn the living she does. But rather than accepting luxury and letting this tough year tumble on, Swift is also keenly aware what music means. Sad songs soothe, happy songs make us dance, but as fans of most artists waited for something — anything — this year, this 31-year-old released two albums that broke chart records, were critically adored and introduced her to people who once thought that she wasn’t for them.

“I’m so exhausted!” she said to the American chat show host Jimmy Kimmel, laughing, a few weeks ago, when asked if she had a third new album planned. “I have nothing left.” In addition to Folklore and Evermore, she filmed a TV special and even started rerecording her back catalogue, after a volatile dispute over who owns her work. By October I’d just about cobbled together my first sourdough loaf.

A decade ago Swift moved firmly into the limelight thanks to a squabble with Kanye West entirely of the rapper’s own making. In 2009, when Swift — then a nascent country music star — won the best female video award at the VMAs, West stormed on stage, grabbed her microphone and said that Beyoncé should have won. Swift was 19 — West was 32 — and she looked scared. This wasn’t just about her biggest moment yet being stolen, but also about her position in the pop hierarchy being questioned, very publicly, from the off. She stood there as that man bullied her. Apparently she left the stage in tears.

Years later West released Famous, with its infamous lyric “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/ Why? I made that bitch famous.” The alt-folk singer Father John Misty also wrote about sleeping with her. Every time that sort of thing happened, a powerful man in Swift’s industry was reducing a successful, talented, younger female to the level of a sex object. It was back-in-your-box belittling — as it was when a TV host groped her. (She successfully sued him.) While Swift herself would retort to West, as her music became less country, more slick pop, such retorts felt forced and gave the rapper too much of her oxygen. A nod to him on Folklore comes with the “Clowns to the West” line, but it is a sideshow now, not a headline.

Not that Swift’s life is entirely her own. She’s been one of the world’s bestselling female artists for a decade, coupled with curiosities such as a well-orchestrated relationship with Tom Hiddleston that kept her in the spotlight. Like many twentysomethings, Swift spent her youth apolitically, only to receive flak for staying silent during the 2016 US election. This year she endorsed Joe Biden, but what if she had wanted to stay quiet? Would the media have let her? She is under so much scrutiny that, after she made an innocuous hand gesture in a recent TV interview, similar to one women make to draw attention to domestic abuse, this headline ran: “Some people think Taylor Swift is secretly asking for help in her latest interview.”

Like many at the start of the pandemic she felt listless. The world we were used to was a wasteland, and we could only find the energy to watch Normal People. Swift’s ennui, though, was, well, swift. Stuck in LA, she emailed Aaron Dessner of the beloved beardy indie band the National to see if he fancied writing with her. No fool, Dessner said yes and, mere weeks later, the duo — with help from Swift’s regular collaborator Jack Antonoff as well as Justin Vernon, from the beloved beardy indie band Bon Iver — released Folklore. The gang just carried on working and, five months later, gave us Evermore.

Creativity is not on tap. Indeed, this year is not one for judging what others may or not have achieved. However, the silence of many big pop stars is striking because they know that even a single would make someone’s day; distract for a while.

Everyone needed to adjust to working from home, but Swift was one of the only musicians who did and, by eschewing the arena pop of recent albums for something more subdued, organic and folky, she gave the sense that she was letting fans in more than ever. She was at home, like us. This is who she is, and the first single from these sessions was so cosy, it was even called Cardigan.

“I just thought, ‘There are no rules any more,’” she told McCartney. “Because I used to put all these parameters on myself, like, ‘How will this song sound in a stadium?’ If you take away the parameters, what do you make? I guess Folklore.”

Maybe it is tedious, for a deft writer with a career of varied, brilliant songs — Love Story, I Knew You Were Trouble, Blank Space — to find respect from some people only when artists who appeal to middle-aged men start to work with her. On the other hand, pop has never been particularly welcoming to many until it sounds like something you are used to and, with delicate acoustics and gossamer-like piano, Swift’s two new albums recall, sonically, Nick Drake or Kate Bush. Thematically, lyrics seem to come from anywhere. Daphne du Maurier, for one. Even the Lake District and its poets.

Some songs are personal. She is dating British actor Joe Alwyn, and on one track she sings, “I want to give you a child.” Make of that what you will. But these records’ highlights are not about herself, but others. “There was a point,” she told Zane Lowe on Apple Music, “that I had got to as a writer, [where I was only writing] diaristic songs. That felt unsustainable.” Instead, she does what the best writers do and mixes subjective with objective. The Last American Dynasty is a terrific piece of writing about the socialite Rebekah Harkness, who lived in a Rhode Island house that Swift bought and was, by all accounts, a bit scandalous. Swift tells her story almost with envy. Imagine, she seems to say, that freedom.

“In my anxieties,” she said in Rolling Stone, “I can often control how I am as a person and how normal I act. But I cannot control if there are 20 photographers outside in the bushes and if they follow our car and interrupt our lives.”

Then there is Epiphany. The first verse is about her grandfather, who fought in the Second World War; the second about frontline workers in hospitals now. Sung in a high register, it is suitably choral. Marjorie, on Evermore, is even better. It is about her grandmother, an opera singer who died in 2003. “What died didn’t stay dead” is the repeated line, and it is eerie, gorgeous. Swift sings how she thinks Marjorie is singing to her, at which point some vocals from the latter’s recordings waft in. Touching, but the real power is in Swift writing about vague memories of a relative who died when she was young. “I complained the whole way there,” she sings. “I should’ve asked you questions.”

In person she is warm like this, and funny. When Kimmel told her there were far more swearwords on Folklore and Evermore than previous records, she replied: “It’s just been that kind of year.” She is also odder than people realise. In the way pop stars should be. Obsessed by numerology, she wrote, on the eve of her birthday when announcing Evermore: “Ever since I was 13, I’ve been excited about turning 31 because it’s my lucky number backwards.” When I turned 31 I just wished to be 13 again, with all that youth, but then, maybe, she is just joking. “Yes, so until I turn 113 or 131, this will be the highlight of my life,” she said. “The numerology thing? I sort of force it to happen.”

Swift, of course, is far from the first pop star to become public property, or have a close bond with fans. This year, however, she was one of the few to show that such adoration is not one-way. She is, simply, a fan of her fans — from planting secrets in her artwork and lyrics, to recording two albums of new music as a balm for them when real life became too deafening.

“One good thing about music,” sang Bob Marley. “When it hits you, you feel no pain.” The 80.6 million who streamed Folklore on its first day will attest to that idea. So will the four million who bought it. Swift is pop star of the year, no doubt — leaving her peers in her wake, on their sofas, rewatching The Sopranos.

#thanks to anon who brought this to my attention!#🖤#taylor swift #the times #article #about taylor #folklore album #folklore era #evermore album #evermore era #twitter.com/hendopolis/status/1342959069792002050

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darling-i-read-it · 4 years ago

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Sorbet

1x07

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, surgery, murder, organ harvesting

Author’s Note: Dudes this is so long and took me forever but I have so much fun with them I could literally care less. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

I took lines directly from the script so some may seem familiar.

Official Episode Summary : A murder involving organ removal makes Jack think that the Chesapeake Ripper has resurfaced; Will has nightmares about being a killer; Hannibal tries to seduce Alana Bloom.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director

(not my gif)

Hannibal walked over to where you were sitting at your desk in the waiting room. You were heavily invested in something on your computer which surprisingly was actually your job. You did a few clicks before you were able to look up at Hannibal who waited patiently for you to be finished.

“You have another appointment at 5:30,” you said pleasantly although he usually didn’t need to be reminded.

“Yes I know but I wanted to sneak in a conversation.” You raised an eyebrow and took out the earbud that you had in while you worked in solitude.

“I’m all ears,” you told him. He nodded.

“I’m going to attend an opera singer show tonight, along with dinner. I accidentally bought two tickets, courtesy of rushed times, and was curious to see if you might want to attend with me.” Your lip curled up into a smile and you nodded.

“Sure. I’ve never been to an opera anything,” you said truthfully. “What do I even wear?” He shrugged.

“Something nice. I’m sure you have something in the back of your closet.”

“I’m sure I do too. Should I meet you here or…”

“If it’s not any trouble I could simply pick you up at home.” You nodded.

“Will’s teaching a late class tonight so I doubt he’ll even know that I’m gone,” you said and as it left your lips your shuddered. You weren’t sure quite how you felt about this now. “I’m curious, why ask me? I’m not exactly cultured, I have a boyfriend,” you said. Hannibal shrugged his shoulders.

“I thought you might appreciate it more than anyone else I know personally.” You nodded. You would tell Will, it wasn’t like you were having an affair or anything. It was simply dinner and a show while Will worked. It just happened to be with Hannibal.

“What time should I expect you?”

“Around 7.” You smiled.

“Perfect.”

At exactly 6:59 the doorbell rang. You hadn’t had time to call Will so you left him a note, just in case you got home after he did. You opened the door and Hannibal looked you up and down, a small smile gracing his face.

“You were able to find something nice in the back of your closet after all,” he said. You gave him a small twirl and he did a little clap, chuckling. You were quite pleased with the look you were able to pull together, the dress you had worn to a wedding a few years back still fitting thankfully. It was perfect and ended up complimenting Hannibal’s suit rather well.

“You wash up nice too Doctor. Although I can’t say I’ve ever seen you dressed down.” He nodded.

“I try to stay on alert fashionably,” he said.

“That’s quite clear.”

The show was stunning. You were quite moved by the performance actually and noticed some tears had even pricked at Hannibal’s eyes as well. He was the first to stand and clap. You followed him after to the dinner portion where he seemed to know many more people than you did.

“It’s been too long since you’ve properly cooked for us, Hannibal,” one of the women he knew said. You hung at his side, nursing a glass of champagne. You were still amazed from the show and were happily eating food off of trays as they came by.

“Come over and I will cook for you,” he said simply.

“I said properly. Means dinner and the show. Have you seen him cook? It’s an entire performance. He used to throw such exquisite dinner parties. You heard me. Used to,” she said teasingly, looking between you and Hannibal.

“It’s true, when you cook it is like a whole event,” you said. He gave you a look, chastising you with his eyes and you backed off.

“I will again. Once inspiration strikes. I cannot force a feast. A feast must present itself,” he explained. Everyone around you seemed in awe. It was odd to see Hannibal in his element every place you went with him.

“I believe this young man is trying to get your attention,” she said and both you and Hannibal turned to an excitable man. You recognized him, he was one of Hannibal’s frequent patients. At least twice a week he came in. Hannibal swiftly gestured for you to take his arm and you did, curious to how this interaction would go.

“Hello,” Hannibal said simply.

“Hi! Nice to see you. This is my friend Tobias,” Franklyn, you were sure his name was, said.

“Good evening,” Hannibal said simply again.

“How do you two know each other?” one of the women asked.

“There should remain some mystery to my life outside the opera,” Hannibal said, dodging the question gracefully.

“I’m one of his patients,” Franklyn said dumbly. So bluntly you were taken aback. “Who’s this? I didn’t know you were in a relationship,” Franklyn said, pointing to you. You shook your head quickly.

“She’s only a friend,” Hannibal said very narrowly. You were once again amazed at how he handled every conversation. You were beginning to wonder if you had ever seen him frazzled.

“She’s holding your arm,” Franklyn pointed out. You pulled your arm back swiftly and Hannibal let you.

“Simply for support,” Hannibal explained. You nodded. You wanted to call Will. But on the same note you weren’t mad at the cultural ‘elite’ thinking of you as Hannibal’s. It seemed like a nice place to be. “She and her boyfriend are friends.” You nodded and brushed a piece of your hair out of your face awkwardly.

“Ah one of those progressive couples,” one of the ladies said, pointing between the two of you. You were stunned at the idea but weren’t about to ignore how appealing that sounded.

“Not quite yet,” Hannibal joked. You laughed alongside him and still wondered, yet again, what the hell he meant by that.

When you woke up that morning Will was beside you. He hadn’t been when you fell asleep last night. You had stumbled inside, taken a shower and passed out on top of the covers. He was tucked underneath as the phone rang. You let out a moan at the early hour and he picked up the phone. You were too tired to make out the words but eventually your hearing and vocal ability came back to you.

“Jack,” he muttered. “Ripper.” He got out of bed, letting you know in two simple words where he was going. You sat up a bit and watched him get clothes out of the dresser.

“Good luck,” you told him, voice cracking from not being used all night.

“Where did you go last night?” he asked, voice equally slurred and tired. You wondered briefly how he noticed you had gone anywhere then remembered you dated the FBI’s best evidence guy.

“I went to the opera.” He turned to you, a judging eyebrow raised.

“For kicks?”

“I went with Hannibal.” He let out a scoff and you slid out of bed, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Do you not like him?” you whispered into his shoulder.

“I do. I don’t understand him though.”

“That makes two of us.” You felt the bond between the three of you and now you wondered if Will had felt it as well. You couldn’t be sure but you didn’t want to ask him yet. Not until you were sure yourself.

“How was it?” he whispered.

“How was what?”

“The opera.”

“Oh. Good actually. He cried,” you said. Will chuckled and turned around.

“I’ll have to point that out next time I see him for a session. Did you know they aren’t even really sessions? I guess they’re just friends talking,” he muttered thoughtfully.

“I do know that because we aren’t paying,” you teased.

“Go back to bed. I gotta go.” He kissed your forehead and you nodded, all too happy to slip back into sleep.

“Be safe.”

“I’ll try.”

You came into work and Hannibal had just pulled in. He had a break at the end of the day and was now into afternoon sessions, Will’s being the last on his list. You and Will pulled up together and you walked inside to make sure he was all settled.

You walked into the office and Hannibal almost immediately ushered you out but he stopped, curious how the dynamic of the three of you in one room would play out.

“You’ve been drinking?” Will asked, gesturing to the glass on the table.

“I had a glass of wine with my last appointment,” Hannibal explained.

“You drank with a patient?” Will asked.

“You didn’t have a patient in the last two hours,” you said, out of instinct.

“She drank with a patient. I have an unconventional psychiatrist.”

“We have that in common,” Will said.

“Am I your psychiatrist or are we simply having conversations?” Hannibal asked.

“Yes I think is the answer to that question,” Will said.

“I should probably go,” you said, realizing you had stuck around longer than you usually would. Hannibal shrugged.

“If this isn’t a proper session, who's to say you have to go. We’re just having conversations and I just so happen to be a psychiatrist.” Hannibal said. “It’s completely up to Will.” You and Will locked eyes and he shrugged.

“Have a glass of wine with us,” Will said. You walked inside and sat on the desk, allowing the boys to have both chairs. Hannibal poured three glasses and handed you each one. “I hear you’ve taken my girlfriend to the opera,” Will said. Hannibal shrugged, sitting in his chair.

“It was an enlightening experience was it not?” Hannibal asked, gesturing to you with his wine glass.

“It was. We even ran into one of his patients who’s obsessed with him,” you said in a gossipy tone.

“Oh?” Will said.

“I’m not at liberty to give details,” Hannibal digressed. “I hope you don’t mind that we went.”

“Not at all. I was teaching, I couldn’t have kept her entertained otherwise.”

“Hey, I like to come watch you teach,” you said, swallowing a bit of your drink. Will gave you a look and you smiled at him sillily.

“What was the class about?” Hannibal questioned.

“The infamous Chesapeake Rippers old victims,” Will said. “How, who, when, where. Jack wants all minds on this.” Hannibal seemed intrigued.

“I would have liked to catch that one actually,” you said.

“Why's that?” Hannibal asked.

“I don’t know. He’s alluring. Or she.”

“I’d bet on it being a he,” Will said bluntly.

“Well you are the expert,” you said.

“But this last murder, I hear it’s also the Ripper?” Hannibal questioned. You leaned forward, putting your elbow on your knee as you sat on the table.

“It’s not the same guy,” Will stated.

“The victims were all brutalized. What was the brutalization hiding?” Hannibal questioned.

“Careful, surgical removal and preservation of vital organs,” Will explained. This was more than you got during pillow talk. You were visibly intrigued.

“Valuable organs,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Organ harvesting?” Will asked, surprised.

“Jack Crawford’s looking for a serial killer he can’t seem to catch. It’s a brilliant diversion,” Hannibal pointed out. You shrugged.

“I’m not you guys but from what I know about the ripper he seems... I don’t know, more personal than that,” you said.

“If this is a different man however,” Hannibal pointed out.

“Organ harvesting under the cover of the ripper would be a good cover,” Will pointed out.

Hannibal looked between the two of you and smiled. He had planned to invite over Alana Bloom for dinner and a drink, cautiously talk about how years ago colleagues thought they were having an affair. Now he thought better of it. Perhaps all he needed was in this room.

“I’m clocking out Hannibal,” you said, knocking on the office and opening the door cautiously. You knew that no one was in there, you had no more scheduled sessions for the day.

“You’re boyfriend has missed his appointment,” Hannibal pointed out, standing from his desk.

“You must have made that schedule without me present.” He showed you where he had written in Will’s name and nodded. “He’s likely at school. I was going to get him if you would care to tag along and chastise him.” He nodded.

“I would like that, yes.”

You rode in your respective cars there and walked in together. You saw Will, eyes open but not really there. You hadn’t seen him like that before and you quickly walked over to him while Hannibal opted just for saying his name a few times.

“Will?” Will turned around and saw the two of you. He was strangely comforted whilst also being on edge about the dream he was just having about Abigail. “I have a 24-hour cancellation policy,” Hannibal said. You put your arm on his shoulder and he put his hand on yours as he stood up shakily.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Nearly 8,” you said.

“I’m sorry Hannibal,” Will muttered.

“No apology necessary.”

“I must’ve fallen asleep.” Will turned to you. “Was I sleepwalking?” he questioned as though you hadn’t just gotten there.

“Your eyes were open but you weren’t there. No sleepwalking through,” you explained.

“I felt like I was asleep. I need to stop sleeping altogether. Best way to avoid bad dreams,” Will muttered. Hannibal glanced over the crime scene photos that were sprawled across the desk to the side of the room.

“I can see why you have bad dreams,” he muttered. You and Will walked over.

“What do you see Doctor?” Will asked.

“Sum up the Ripper in so many words? Words are living things. They have personality, point of view, agenda.” He looked over the pictures further. “Displaying one’s enemy after death has its appeal in many cultures.”

“These aren’t the Ripper’s enemies. These are pests he’s swatted,” Will said bluntly

“The reward for their cruelty?” Hannibal questioned.

“He’s not bothered by cruelty. The reward is for undignified behavior. These dissections are to disgrace them. It’s a public shaming. “

“Takes their organs away because in his mind they don’t deserve them?”

“In some way.”

It was almost an honor to watch them work. You didn’t put in any input that their minds wouldn’t come up with themselves. You just stood between them and watched. Hannibal picked up a picture of an arm. You recognized it.

“Miriam Lass?” you asked. Will nodded.

“She’s not like the other victims. The Chesapeake Ripper had no reason to humiliate Miriam Lass,” Will muttered.

“Seems to me he was humiliating someone when he cut off her arm,” Hannibal said.

“He was humiliating Jack Crawford,” Will said.

“Have you considered your girlfriend as the Ripper?” Hannibal questioned and you scoffed.

“I prefer a more direct approach.”

“This isn’t direct enough for you?” Hannibal questioned.

“Well Will, do you think it worked?” you asked. Will shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded.

“I’d say it worked really well.”

Jack and Bev walked in then, holding a piece of paper.

“Doctor Lecter, Y/N, what a surprise.” He held up a paper and looked at Will. “We have a lead.”

“Maybe Y/N should stay,” Will said, going into overprotective boyfriend mode.

“No, she should come,” Hannibal said. “She wants to be a part of the FBI one day, consider this training.”

“Well how about it? Care to help us catch the ripper?” Jack asked. You shrugged.

“How could I refuse?” Hannibal asked.

You were driven to an ambulance garage. You waited in the car as they found out that the ambulance they were looking for was actually taken out and everyone was back rather quickly, driving quickly.

“This is very educational,” Hannibal pointed out as Jack started to speed to a new location. You got out this time around and stuck close to Will and Hannibal as they approached the ambulance.

Jack was in front and you heard a booming, “Show me your hands.” Followed closely by a loud, “Dr. Lecter!”

Hannibal started to run over and you and Will followed but as a distance. There was a man in the back, his hands in a body. Will covered you instinctively but you pushed forward, watching as Hannibal climbed in without hesitation.

“He was removing the kidney. Poorly. I can reattach it,” Hannibal said.

“Do it,” Jack said. Hannibal worked quietly for a few seconds as the whole of the FBI held their breaths.

“Do you have it?” Jack asked.

“I’ve got it,” Hannibal replied.

“Silvestri, show me your hands.” The man raised his bloody, gloved hands and stepped away. “Step out of the vehicle. On the ground. Hands behind your head,” Jack said.

Yours and Will’s eyes were no longer on the mock Chesapeake Ripper. Instead you watched Hannibal work and his eyes fleeted up to the two of you and then quickly back down to the inside of a human.

“I have a butcher who carries sow’s blood. Centrifugate, separate the matter from the water. Creates a transparent liquid. Serve with tomatoes in suspension. Everybody will love the sweet taste,” Hannibal said as he walked around his kitchen quickly. “Are you sure the two of you can’t stay?”

Will held a bottle of expensive wine in his hands beside you. You shook your head.

“We have to head home and attempt to get Will to sleep a full night,” you said. Hannibal nodded in understanding.

“How is Mr. Silvestri’s donor?” Hannibal asked.

“You saved his life,” Will said.

“Been a long time since I used a scalpel on anything but a pencil,” Hannibal said.

“Why did you stop being a surgeon?” you asked.

“I killed someone. More accurately, I couldn’t save someone. But it felt like killing them,” he explained.

“You were an emergency room surgeon. It has to happen from time to time,” Will said.

“It happened one time too many. I transferred my passion for anatomy into the culinary arts. I fix minds instead of bodies and no one’s died as a result of my therapy,” Hannibal said. You both nodded.

“We should go. I’ve got a date with the Chesapeake Ripper before Y/N forces me into bed,” Will said. You hit his arm.

“Or is it rippers?” Hannibal asked.

“Devon Silvestri was harvesting organs but not with the Chesapeake Ripper. No connection between them,” Will explained, happy to be right once again.

“Jack must be devastated,” Hannibal said.

“We can only hope,” you muttered.

“Enjoy the wine,” Will said and you were both gone.

1x08

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter imagines #will graham x reader #will graham imagines #will graham x reader x hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal imagines

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blu-joons · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction: You Love Musical Theatre

Jin:

He handed you the envelope he’d held onto for weeks, a huge smile was on his face as you opened the seal, pulling out two tickets to the theatre show that had just begun.

“Are you serious right now?” You giggled, looking at both the tickets to see where you’d be sat, right at the front of the stalls.

“I wanted to do something nice seeing as you’ve been so busy recently,” he smiled, feeling your arms wrap around him.

Your lips pressed to his cheeks, “this is the best gift you could have ever given me, thank you so much Jin, I really wanted to go and watch this one as well.”

He nodded, “I knew you did; it took a lot to get tickets, but eventually I managed to get some, we’ll head down there in a couple of weeks.”

“Those two weeks cannot come soon enough,” you laughed, cupping either side of his face, “you’re amazing, I don’t deserve your kind heart sometimes.” “Yes you do,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “you’ve worked hard, and you need some time off to relax and enjoy yourself.”

“This will definitely do just that.”

Yoongi:

When he handed you control of the music in the car, he knew he was in for a long trip, when he watched you place the Hairspray soundtrack DVD into the player.

“How’s this one for you?” You asked him as Good Morning Baltimore began to play, sniggering as his eyes rolled, turning to face you.

“It’s not the worst one, there could be worse,” he chuckled, smirking as you began to sing along with all the lyrics out of the window.

He couldn’t believe how invested you were into it, screaming out loud, “whenever you want to join in, just slide into the song Yoongi, I know you love it really.”

His eyes rolled, “I like it, but I don’t know the lyrics, you’ll have to teach me them all one day when we’ve got a bit of time on our hands to sit and listen.”

“You’re joking, but I love it that much I can teach you all of the lyrics if you want to,” you assured him, resting your hand across onto his arm.

“Perhaps that wasn’t such a good suggestion,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat, “you just enjoy it for yourself for now, I’ll learn to love it one day.”

“You’ll be obsessed soon enough.”

Hoseok:

The two of you were in stitches as you danced around to Hamilton in the living room, neither of you could control yourselves, falling onto the sofa on top of each other.

“We’d never get a job at the theatre,” you laughed, trying to push Hobi off of the top of you whilst he tried to stop himself laughing.

“I was made for the stage,” he challenged, throwing his arms into the air, “musical theatre is perfect for me, I’m dramatic enough to be a star.” Your head nodded,” you’re not wrong, you’d be perfect for theatre, only you’d probably start giggling halfway through your lines and mess things up.”

He refused to agree with you, “could you imagine me in Les Mis, when the deaths happen, I could do all the gasping, sound effects would be where I’m good.”

“You’d be perfect for sound effects, they’d hire you in an instance,” you assured him, as your laughter began to die down, the two of you realised what was going on.

“I have no idea what just happened,” he sighed, rolling off your body, laying down on the floor as he tried to catch his breath.

“It’s all musical theatre fun.”

Namjoon:

As the music of the Phantom of the Opera played behind you as you cooked, Namjoon’s ears focussed on the music, the lyrics particularly caught his attention.

“Musical theatre certainly has some incredible songs,” he mumbled, watching as you sorted everything out in the kitchen.

“It’s all part of the appeal, that’s why I fell in love with it,” you replied. You could tell as you watched him, he was in deep thought about things.

He nodded lightly, “I’d love to write for musical theatre one day, that would be so cool, they’re the kind of songs that people remember for such a long time.”

You smiled across at him, watching as he began to type into his phone, “I think that you could one day, you’ve got the skills to write for it, a proper love song would be perfect.”

“I could never write as good as these songs though, they’re something else, now I see why you tried to get me to listen to it for so long,” he chuckled.

“Because I knew you’d like it,” you reminded him, poking out your tongue, “you should have listened to me from the start when I told you about it.”

“Yeah, maybe you were right.”

Jimin:

You could barely contain yourself as you walked down the aisle to find your seats at the theatre, Jimin loved seeing you so happy, sitting himself down beside you.

“Excited?” He asked, to which you quickly nodded your head. “Did I do a good job bringing you here? I thought you’d like it.”

“You did an amazing job, any show would have been great, but Rock of Ages is a personal favourite of mine,” you encouraged, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He smiled widely, “do you want to know a secret? This is my first ever musical theatre show? I don’t really know what to expect from this.”

You rested your hand over his, “I promise you will really enjoy it; it won’t take long for you to start singing and dancing, it’ll be like a BTS concert.”

“I like the sound of that,” he chuckled, taking a good look around, “although, not to brag, we definitely play to slightly bigger crowds than this.”

“That’s definitely bragging,” you whispered into his ear, as his eyes rolled, “but I guess being such a worldwide superstar, you’re allowed to say that.”

“I definitely am.”

Taehyung:

He couldn’t hide his smile when the We Will Rock You soundtrack began to play out as you prepared yourself for date night, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

“Enjoying yourself?” You asked him as he began to lip sync along, acting out every word as if it were him on the stage performing, making you smile.

“Don’t you think I’d be good in theatre? I’m ready for my calling.” He told you, remaining in character, glancing only briefly at the smile on your face.

Your head shook, “I don’t even know what to say to you right now, I’m just enjoying the moment,” you chuckled, grabbing onto your phone to try and record his performance.

His hand came across, snatching it from you, “I’m an actor, you don’t record actors at the theatre, so why would you film me? It’s not fair to just film me.”

“Perhaps because we’re in our bedroom, not the theatre, without a crowd” you teased, trying to fight him for your phone back.

“One day I’ll be on the stage and you’ll regret saying that, trying to take photos of me to show how big a star I am.”

“You can dream Tae.”

Jungkook:

Your hands tapped onto the steering wheel along to the music, Jungkook looked across at you, watching you get into the music of The Lion King that played.

“Why don’t you be Nala, and I’ll be Simba?” Jungkook suggested, smiling as your eyes glanced over at him, your head shook in response.

“Nala barely has any lines, you’ll be doing most of the singing,” you groaned, watching his shoulders shrug, and his smirk grow.

He blew a kiss across to you, “technically I am the singer in this relationship, you can be Pumba if you want to be, I reckon you could do a good job of that.”

Your head continued to shake, “you’re horrible to me, don’t ruin The Lion King for me now too, I’ve already dealt with that when we listened to Hairspray the other day.”

“I thought that suggesting you be Amber was a great idea, it’s not my fault you said no,” he reminded you, he loved seeing you get so wound up.

“You said that Namjoon should be Tracy, you thought Namjoon would be a better Tracy than me, it’s offensive,” you scolded, turning away from him.

“It’s alright, Amber’s the pretty one.”

---

Masterlist

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kileyrose-2003 · 5 years ago

Text

Jenny Lind x Fem! Reader

A/N: Hello lovelies! This wasn't really a request but more something I decided to write for my dear friend @merci-bitch If you guys like this enough, maybe I'll open up request for Jenny.

I haven't been that well with my stress levels and mental health lately and she's been there to ground me and keep me as sane as I can possibly be. This is for you Tina. I love you and appreciate you and sincerely hope you enjoy this. Side note for all the people who have requested fics from me, I have not forgotten you. I know I'm behind and I will be getting to all of you eventually. Love you all and I hope you are all well. Stay safe, lovelies!

Warnings: Sexual content, implied mentions of self harm.

"...May I now present the most beautiful bird of song in our ring. Miss Y/n Y/l/n." The crowd cheered wildly as you stepped on stage. The spotlight making you sweat through your millions pound of caked on makeup as you forced a dazzling grin.

They say Phineas is The Greatest Showman but really if there was a true actor among people in the circus, it was you. To the crowd you came off as this charismatic, happy go lucky girl but you were far from that.

You were happy once but that seemed a dream now, hanging off far in the distance with all the stars shining in the sky.

You were born into a family of the musically elite. Your mother was a lyricist and your father, a prominent composer. For the first few years of your life were fairly pleasant.

You never wanted for anything and anything you desired within reason but something was always off when your parents were together. Exchanges of words that were once long and loving and had exchanges of pet names on the end of it were a thing of past and you couldn't help but wonder what happened. What changed.

They simply couldn't love each other anymore and then came the next two years of hell. The divorce. It was painful and confusing seeing two people who loved you fighting over you. Neither of them budging on which one would have primary custody of you.

You didn't feel like a person anymore. You felt like an object. A doll that only either of them wanted when they felt in the mood to play house. Because no man or woman that either of them dated would want to deal with their "baggage"

That's what you were. You were baggage. It killed your self esteem. Made you feel weak. Made you feel useless. Because if your own family looked at you like that, certainly you were useless, weren't you?

Desperation and depression set in and you wanted to find a way out. Find an escape to some place warm and kind where you could cry and have someone listen to you. Tell you 'I hear you' and 'I believe you'. You tried to find that place. Sometimes in the worst ways you could but you failed. Luckily.

When people would ask why you wanted out. Why you didn't want to deal with it anymore it was hard to talk about it. Because no one believed you. No one ever believed you about of the things your parents girlfriend or boyfriend said to you or what they did to you. No one ever believed you when you said you were hurt or needed a hug. The moment you would try to talk about what made you sad or angry you'd be brushed off to the side like a piece of garbage and so you refused to their answer their questions on why you wanted it to end, and learned the art of smiling.

You quickly learned people liked it when you smiled and acted preppy and in ways, you enjoyed it too. There weren't as many questions you were asked and had to answer and you were fine with that. It didn't make you feel any better though. At the end of the day when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you didn't see yourself. You didn't know who your reflection was besides a lie. An empty shell of yourself you wanted to curl up into and just cry.

You went on like for a while until you turned 16. That was when the "accident" happened. You could still remember it so clearly in your mind. Going to visit your father and finding a trail of crimson on the cake white tile flooring. A red hue that would never truly be erased from how ironic you found the colors to be. The white being the small tattered piece of childhood innocence you once held onto so tightly slowly fading away with the red which shone of what horrible events happened before you got there before you even see what happened.

It truly was only you and your mom after that and you were never the same. Hearty laughs you would bark out at jokes that once made you laugh were replaced by a fake giggle and no longer did you even bother with smiling. You were hurting and because you were hurting, your mom hurt too. Reality finally setting in on the fragility of your mental state that no person or form of tenderness could fix and even after everything your parents put you through it hurt you to see your mom hurt.

You ran away from home not long after that. Phineas was the one who found you on the street, dirt matted in your hair and a mess in every way imaginable. He was kind to you. Offering you a warm meal and a family and so you let him take you back home with him.

It took you a while to get used to the Showman's antics but you eventually got used to it. Though you never got used to his wife though, Charity. Something about the woman just rubbed you the wrong way. She always seemed so stiff but she was motherly in a way and you eagerly accepted her affection. The two of them built up your confidence. Made you feel at least somewhat whole again and not as empty.

When Phineas first brought up the idea of the circus, Charity thought it was ridiculous. You didn't though. You found it unique.

"And what would you provide for entertainment? Bafoons?!"

"People of talent my dear. Acrobats, swordsman, tightrope walkers, you name it you can find it!"

"And where would you find these people? Do we even know anyone talented to enough to even provide a simple song."

"I-i can sing." Your voice was sheepish and made the couple stare at you as if they never even seen you before. "What?"

"I-i can sing. Both my parents were musician. I was raised around music." When the shock finally fell off of Phineas' face he managed to form a full sentence. "Can-can you show us?"

You nodded and took a deep breath in and sang a bit of opera you remembered from your childhood. "..Il n'a rien dit, mais il me plaît."

"Stop! Stop!" You jumped at the abruptness of his words and waited for a response. "Y/n, why didn't you tell either of us you could like this before?"

"You like it?" You were in shock. Besides Phineas and Charity, no one ever really recognized your talent before and you never thought it was anything to brag about. "Like it, is an understatement my dear. You have the voice of angel."

"Well I guess you found your singer," Charity mused sipping a cup of tea.

It wasn't long after that Phineas started posting help wanted signs around the city. You were there with him through the entire process. Sitting through some of the best and worst auditions you'd ever heard.

Charity was skeptical of the whole thing at first but she eventually came around. Attending most of your performances and comforting you back stage before you went on. For the first time in the longest time, you felt complete. Like you had a family and people who loved and cared about you.

The show became a hit and eventually you moved into your own apartment but you stayed close with Phineas. You were one of the first ones to find out about the Queen's Invitation to the palace.

" ..Phineas, Phineas! I know I told you I signed up for this so whatever you dealt my way, I'd deal with, but this. I did not sign up for this." You chased after the showman as he threw clothes in your suitcase.

"Nonsense, my dear. The Queen calls upon us to grace her presence and what she wants, she shall receive." The smile on his face was obnoxious and you wanted to smack it off.

"Yes but Phineas, I don't know anyone there and you know how I get around new people." You looked down at the ground, trying to hide just how small you were feeling in the inside.

Phineas stopped what he was doing and took your hands in his, fatherly gaze gleaming in his eyes. "I know but you know me. Think of it like a show. That's all it is. All you have to do is smile, greet people as you normally. If you get, perform as you normally would, sing, floor the audience with your incredible voice and then we go home. If I didn't think you could do this, I wouldn't ask you to come with me."

The grin he gave you made you feel warm inside and you let out a throaty noise. "But what will I wear?"

"Don't worry about that." You rolled your eyes as he carried your trunk out of your room. "When are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow." Your eyes widened. "Tomorrow?!"

"Royalty doesn't wait for excellence." You let out a groan and looked at yourself, seeing that girl again. The girl you locked away a long time ago, never wanting to see her again but today she made herself prominent and you hated it. "Fuck off!" You put your hands over your face and let out a sigh. You really didn't want to do this but you made a promise to when you joined the circus that you'd do something better with yourself, make something of yourself and now you had that opportunity laying in front of you on a silver platter. "God help me make it through this.."

....

The palace was even prettier than you could imagine. The lighting from the ceiling cascaded all around, highlighting the gold trim on some of the paintings. You caught a glimpse off your own necklace and it reminded you of being on stage. The lights shining down on you. You were next to be announced and all the sudden it felt as if the world came crashing down around you.

"May I present, Miss Y/n Y/l/n."

In that moment it felt as if the entire world had their eyes on you stood their for a moment, your body stiff and stuck in the moment. 'This can't be real. None of this is real.'

You could see the other guest staring at you for a few seconds until you heard your name being called. "Y/n! Y/n, come here." Phineas. You pulled yourself out of your trance and walked over as elegantly as you could, trying not to make your anxiety evident.

"Yes, Phineas?" A butler came by with a tray of champagne and you quickly took the glass, holding it up to your lips as if it was a comfort mechanism. "Y/n, there's somone I want you to meet."

'How lovely,' You thought to yourself and took a sip of the liquor. "This, is Jenny Lind." The red head infront of you smiled and you nearly choked on the alcohol. "How do you do?" You stood their for a moment with lack of words. She was probably one of the most beautiful women you ever seen. Her red hair complementing her olive green eyes and her white dress creating this aura of welcoming glow around her yet left you questioning what thoughts layed in that pretty little head of her because something to told you the woman infront of you wasn't as angelic as she seemed.

"Very well, thank you," You finally managed to mumble after a while. The other woman eyed you up and down as if she was analyzing you. "Y/n is a singer as well, Ms. Lind."

"A singer you say? How lovely. Perhaps we can do a piece together sometime, dear. I am told to be quite the piece of work." Her eyes interlocked with yours and you felt your cheeks growing red, letting out a slightly nervous giggle.

'Piece of work isn't even the right word for it.' You thought to yourself. Phineas seemed to pay no mind to what Jenny said and she smiled. "I'm sure she'd love that, wouldn't you Y/n?"

"O-of course.." You muttered. "Then I'll make it a point to see you again before the evenings events come to an end. Now, if you'll excuse me. I have some matters to attend to. It was a pleasure Mr. Barnum, Miss Y/n." She gave you a nod of acknowledgment and you laughed nervously as she was walked away.

"She's lovely isn't she?" The corners of your lips twitched into a smile. "That she is." Yours and Phineas' eyes interlocked and he gently patted your back. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why?" You smiled. "You just seem a bit off, my dear." You waved your hand dismissively. "I'm just tired, that's all. I'm sure the liquor isn't helping any either," You chuckled and Phineas nodded in agreement. "Tis true, you are a tiny little thing and people with such delicate stature as your own tend to be a bit light weight it comes to liquor. Would you like to get some fresh air?"

"Please." You nodded and Phillip took your arm. "Come on, I'll take you out." You clung onto his arm tightly, breathing in deeply as the cold air brushed against the sides of your face. "You're alright?"

"Yes Phillip, I'm fine." He nodded hesitantly. "Alright..if you need anything let me know."

"Sure," You mumbled softly and leaned against the balcony. You heard him walk away and breathed a sigh of relief. Rubbing your face and staring out at London. The lights though far away burned so bright and you felt small.

"You know, I've made a lot of people flustered in my life but never have I seen someone react the way you did." You spun around to look at Jenny and coughed. "Y-you scared me."

"If that's what you want to call it sweetheart, sure. We can call it that." You smiled and blushed slightly. "What do you want Jenny?"

"To chat." You heard her heels clicking against the floor and the singer moved dangerously close to you, looking out in the distance. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" She gestured to all of London.

"It is. I've never seen anything like it before." She furrowed her brows. "You've never left America before this?"

"Never..but I'm glad I did."

"Did you not want to come initially?"

"To be frank, yes..I guess you could say I'm a little shy. Large crowds terrify me. There's something about the crowd though with singing that makes me feel at ease. Like it's the one true way I can express myself."

Jenny eyed you up and down as if she was inspecting you and smiled slowly. It was unsettling grin at first but you felt at ease when she brushed your cheek with your thumb. You just this woman? Why were you so comfortable with her?

"I think all singers can relate but someone as beautiful as yourself shouldn't be afraid of the crowd. For it's all the more people that love and adore you..and I my dear, already adore you?"

The way the light glistened on her face made your stomach flutter and it felt as if in that moment, you and Jenny were the only people alive. She leaned forward as if she was reaching out to touch you.

"Miss Lind!"

"What?" Phillip. "Miss Lind, Mr. Barnum-"

"Tell Mr. Barnum, I'm preoccupied with his lovely singer and I shall be with him in a moment." Phillip looked surprised by her attitude and nodded. "Sure..my apologies."

"It's fine, Phillip. We'll be out in a minute." You smiled and gave a slight wave as he walked away. Jenny let out a groan. "Is he always like that?"

"Sometimes but he means well. They all do. Phineas, he's like a father too me. Always has been and always will be."

"Is he married? Actually are either of you married?" You looked at the Swedish Nightingale, slightly boggled by the question. "H-he is but I'm no-"

"Such a same. For a tyrant he seems like a nice man." You felt yourself growing slightly annoyed with Jenny and was taken off guard when she cupped your face. "You both seem like such nice people. Phineas doesn't deserve you."

"I-"

"If you ever need me, this is my address. I'd like to keep in touch after this whole function, darling girl." You blushed and Jenny laughed. "My, you are such a precious creature and one so beautiful and rare for the eyes to behold."

"Y-you flatter me."

"I can tell. Come, darling. I'd hate to keep your beloved Phineas waiting longer he has..."

...

"..Oh please, don't be daft Phineas!" You downed another glass of wine as Jenny laughed, trying to become oblivious to the tension that was radiating from the two people next to you. "I don't mean to cause a row, Miss Lind but my proposition was for you to come for us. Not for you steal away my top singer."

"Well you're trying to steal me away from my own obligations so wouldn't it be fair to offer the same?" The smile on Jenny's face was sarcastic and you could see Phineas' face turning several shades of red. Jenny lifted up your chin with her index fingers. "She is quite darling, Mr. Barnum. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, she is and she's her own person who makes her own decisions. Am I correct, Y/n?" You nodded limply, seeing the tension in his eyes. "Which is exactly why I offered her. Because she can make her own decisions." Her eyes were full of lust and you tensed as you felt her caress her cheek. "What do you think, darling? Doesn't a life in Sweden sound nice?"

You felt Phineas' eyes burning daggers into you as if it was a test of your faith even though he knew very you knew where your alliances laid yet you found yourself so drawn to Jenny. "I mean-" You let out a giggle, attesting to your drunkenness. What was muttered between the two next, you didn't know. You glanced over at Phineas who snapped his fingers. "Yes sir?"

"Will you take Y/n back to her room please? I'm afraid she's been spent for the evening. Aren't you, my dear?" You nodded in agreement. "Sure. Goodnight, Jenny."

"Goodnight, darling." She kissed your hand. "You know where to go if you need to find me?" You met her eyes as if to say yes and left with Phillip.

What happened after you left, you would never know. All you could remember was someone changed you into y/f/c nightgown and being woken up by the heavy treading of feet down the hall followed by the sound of numerous voices. You were still slightly drunk and were too dazed to pick them up but you could hear what they were saying.

"So what she did say when you offered?"

"She refused, of course! I don't know what to do at this point. I can't force her to come and I'm certainly not going to just give up Y/n. She's family."

Eventually after a while the voices faded away and you laid in bed, staring up at the egg shell white ceiling. The words replaying over and over on your mind. Surely Jenny was quite flirtatious with you but she didn't mean anything serious. Did she?

Memories of how she caressed your face so tenderly ran through your mind and you felt yourself swelling up inside with what was a mix of lust and adoration.

You didn't have to be around her for a while to take the hint she was a good time girl but it was driving you mad. You had to know and you had to know now. You turned the lamp on in your room and searched through your trunk, pulling out a pair of flats and slipped them on. Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas. You still had the address of where Jenny was staying hidden in your bra and you took the paper out, memorizing the street and room number before grabbing your room key. The halls of the hotel were completely and you glanced at the old grandfather clock at the end of the hall.

"3 AM." You shrugged, quietly walking downstairs. The lobby was completely empty with most of the lights off but it didn't bother you. What mattered was making it to Jenny.

Rain was pelting down from the lit up sky, the light illuminating the cool liquid that caressed your cheek. You shivered slightly from the cool breeze outside but pushed it aside. Walking through the wet streets on London.

You were getting soaked and you were sure your y/f/c nightgown was becoming see through but you paid it no mind. 'Jenny will probably enjoy it,' You thought snidely. Her hotel came into sight and you walked past all the rooms until finally finding her room number. Ever so hesitantly you knocked on the door.

There was pause, an agonizingly long one. You debated on knocking again when the door swung open. Even with bed messed hair and scantily dress she was still one of the most beautiful women you ever seen.

Her eye makeup was smeared, highly the disdain in her eyes. "What the hell are you doing here? It's three in the morning." Her voice came out as low growl and you found yourself surprised. Her voice was so smooth the entire evening and you could never picture it being as nasty as it was now.

"Can we talk?" You asked softly. "At three in the morning?! Wow darling, you must truly be desperate." You seen her eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat and you shifted uncomfortably as you seen her eyes eagerly sizing up your breast.

"Maybe but does it matter?" Jenny let out a humming noise. "I suppose it doesn't. Very well, come in my sweet."

You stepped inside and Jenny shut the door before tossing a nightgown at you. "What's this for?"

"Because you're soaked. You might of pissed me off but how well mannered would I be to leave you cold and wet?" You shrugged, as if silently saying yes to what she was saying and turned your back as you stripped your clothes off.

Changing into the warm outfit. You could feel her eyes like little beads on the back of your neck but said nothing. Not knowing what you would even say to her. The situation was incredibly awkward as it was and you didn't want to make it any worse.

You turned around as you finished changing and Jenny smiled at you. "That's better." She sat down on one of the sofas and you followed her motion. "Now, tell me darling. What brings you here so late? Did the tyrant send you as a ploy or are you seeking out for a new..experience?"

The words came out so voyeuristically you had to do everything in your power not to shudder. 'What a milf.' You thought to yourself before responding. "Neither."

"Oh? Enlightenment me, Y/n. For now, I'm curious."

"I want you to come with us." Jenny laughed. "Phineas must be truly desperate." Her expression was so snide and you wanted to smack her across the face. "Actually, I want you to come."

Jenny choked on the water she was drinking. "Me, come with you? My dear, the offfer was you come with me."

"Yeah well, compromise is needed in both love and war. Don't you agree, Miss Lind?" You met her eye with a certain sassy glance Jenny found so attractive. "We're off first name basis?"

"We are negotiating business, aren't we?" She hummed softly and smirked. "Yes, we are...give me one reason why I should come with me. I am a very busy as you know. I know Chopin, people at the Music Academy.."

You said nothing and Jenny grew impatient. "Speak!"

"I-i feel connected to you..like I can trust you." She laughed. "Oh darling, do you honestly think I'm going to fall for that?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at her. "I'm speaking the truth!"

"Are you sure it's not for another reason?" Her eyes found their way back down to your chest again and you cringed. Jenny stood up and placed two of her fingers underneath your chin, caressing your cheek with her other hand. "You are quite the precious thing. Aren't you? My precious thing."

"I-i belong to no one." You tried your hardest to sound firm but knew it wasn't working. "Sure you don't. When do we leave, darling?"

"Y-you're going to come with me?!" Your eyes lit up with pure joy. "Only because you asked so nicely." She climbed into bed and held her arms out for you. "What are you doing?"

"It's three in the morning and I'm sure darling Phineas won't be looking for you a while. Now come." Hesitantly you slipped into bed next to the older woman, letting her run her fingers through your hair. You knew it wasn't right but it felt so nice just to be there in that moment. Could you be having..feelings for her?

....

To say yours and Jenny's friendship was a peculiar one was an understatement. No one could wrap their heads on the dynamic between the two of you. The two of you were surely best friends as wherever you went, Jenny was and vice versa but the two of you were very physically affectionate with each other.

Jenny always kissing your cheek before she would leave the seem and it seemed more often than not the two of you were either holding hands or hugging each other.

Not that the others minded but they just couldn't quite wrap their heads around it and you always seemed to have an excuse for her when people would ask why she was always all over you.

"I just think she's trying to be sweet." You smiled as you sat down next to Anne after one of the shows.

"I think she's trying to be a milf." You furrowed your brow at Anne. "What do you mean?" She shrugged. "Have you not seen all the people that come in and out of her trailer?"

She was your partner. It was hard not to notice or know about how much of a flirt she was, especially towards Phineas, but it was none of your business anyways as far it was your concern. You and Jenny worked on a policy that the other wouldn't ask unless you wanted to tell and you were fine with that.

Screw what other people thought and if you're happy shouldn't they be happy for you?

...

"So I started working on a new piece-" Jenny hummed as the two of walked hand and hand towards the piano. "I don't know what to call it yet but I guess that doesn't matter now though. You well be happy to know that I thought you of you since there are a-" She tapped her finger on the piano. "F5's in here."

You smiled and looked at the woman sitting down in front of you. "I want you to work on this with me. Critique me."

"Oh no, Jenny! I couldn't possibly-"

"Do you know what one of the main claims made by successful musicians and writer's are? They listen to the criticism of others so you can and you will, now sit down." She commanded, patting the empty space next to her on the stool. You quickly did as she asked, not wanting to make her mad and straightened her posture. "You'll do the soprano section and I'll do the alto."

"Yes ma'am." You hummed softly. You noticed a little smirk forming on the sides of Jenny's lip and you bit down on your lip, trying your hardest not smile. "Now, 1 and 2-"

Her long, nimble fingers hit the keys on the lower part of piano and your voices met in harmony. "Everything went wrong, and the whole day long I'd feel so blue. For the longest while, I'd forget to smile, then I met you. Now that my blue days have passed, Now that I've found you at last."

Your echoed her words and Jenny smiled. "With a love that's true always. When the things you've planned. Need a helping hand, I will understand always."

"..Always." Jenny turned to look at you and for a moment you could of sworn you seen a look of something other than lust in her eyes and she leaned towards you.

Despite your inner voice screaming at you stop what you moved closer to her, your lips nearly brushing with her plump reddened ones before she pulled.

"Oh god..I'm sorry. That was-that was inconsiderate. I-i don't know what came over." Jenny's laugh was almost brimming on nervousness and you had to try your hardest not to frown. "I-it's okay. I wasn't thinking either."

Jenny stared deeply into your eyes and for a second you could of sworn you seen a glimpse of love in her eyes.

"I should leave." You shook your head. "No, no! Stay, Jenny. Please, I insist." She shook her head. "No, no, no. This would be inappropriate of me to do."

"Aren't we already inappropriate?" She narrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not blind, Jenny. Nor am I deaf. The others ask me things about us. Why you touch me so much."

"Y/n, my dear, this a step above us holding hands. This is kissing. We are partners. It would never work." She growled. "But you love Phineas, do you not?"

Jenny looked at you almost betrayed and stood up. "That doesn't matter right now! I overstepped my boundaries and made you uncomfortable. Now if you'll excuse me."

"But Jenny-"

"No buts, Y/n. Please! You're just making this harder on yourself but me as well. For us to do this, we would have to live a lie. Do you want to live a lie, Y/n?"

"But aren't we already living a lie as it is?" For the first time since you met Jenny Lind, you could of sworn you could seen that she was at a loss of words. For once.

"Yes, I mean- No! No, we are not! I love Phineas! I want to be Phineas!"

"Then if you love him, then why would you of tried to kiss me?" Jenny's cheek turned cherry red as if she was child caught in the midst of stealing a sweet. "He's married, Jenny! And he's not leaving his wife anytime in the foreseeable future. You're setting yourself up for heart break and I love you Jenny and I want you to be happy!"

"If you love me you'll let me do what I need to do! Now if you'll excuse me, I have matters to attend to." She stormed past you.

"Jenny, I'm telling you-"

"And I'm telling you, to let me do what I do best.." She grabbed the sides of your face, staring deeply into your eyes before kissing your forehead. "Now if you'll excuse me, for the last and final time."

The singer walked past you. Leaving you with millions of unanswered questions and emotions. Did she love you? Did you love her? You didn't even know anymore. You walked out of your rehearsal space, nearly bumping into Phineas.

"Jesus!"

"I'm sorry my dear, I didn't see you coming. I just bumped into Jenny down the hall. Am I interrupting something?"

"No." Your tone was sharp and it made Phineas narrowed his eyes. "Don't ask. It's a long story. Anyways what do you need?"

"Are you performing tonight?" You shook your head. "No, this is Jenny's solo night."

"Okay, I just wanted to ask because she ignored me when I seen her...are you sure you're alright my dear?" You stared at him for a few moments, not knowing what to say. It was an incredibly awkward situation. What could you even say to him. "Yes, everything's fine. I'm just not feeling the greatest."

"Go get some rest then, my dear. I shall see you tomorrow morning." He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. "Goodnight Y/n."

"Goodnight Phineas."

....

"It's not tight enough!"

"How tightly do you want the bobby pins then, Jenny?" You sighed and ran a hand through her red hair as curled it. "Sorry..sorry."

"It's fine, You huffed. There was an awkward silence for the moment. "So are we going to talk about what happened earlier?" You shrugged. "What is there to talk about?"

"Y/n-"

"No, Jenny. I'm not doing this with you. You pushed me away. There is nothing for us to talk about. There is nothing I want to talk about. You burned the bridge. You deal with the consequences."

You finished her last curl and set the iron down. "..I didn't mean to hurt you, Y/n."

"Sure you didn't." Jenny sighed and pulled you into a slight hug. You softened up a little bit and sighed. "Don't do anything brash please?"

"I make no promises."

"Jenny-"

"You trust me right? Trust me enough to make my own decisions?"

"Jenny you know I do but I'm just afraid of you getting hurt."

"I won't. What's the worst that can happen? He turns me away." You shrugged as if to say maybe and Jenny smiled. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck." She pressed a kiss against your cheek and smiled. "Bye, Y/n."

"Bye."

....

The next few hours you laid in bed in yours and Jenny's hotel room, wondering how the show went and what she was doing. She should of been back hours ago. What the hell was she doing?

Your eyes settled on the clock at the far end of the room. 12:55. You brushed it off as maybe she lost track of time but you knew that was too good to be true. Something felt wrong.

A few minutes later you heard the door unlock followed by the sound of heels clicking against the floor and sniffling. "How much did you have to drink?" You joked but there was no laugh.

"Jenny? Jenny, are you okay?" You felt her weight sink down next to you on the mattress. "H-he doesn't like me." You furrowed your brows. "Who?"

"Phineas." You sat up in bed and took her hands gently in your own. "Jenny, what the hell did you do?"

"Remember how you told me the story about your first time on stage and Phineas tolf you, you have to learn to fall before you fly?" You grabbed a tissue out of the box besides your bed and handed it to Jenny. "Yeah.."

"So I thought maybe, just maybe, he'll like me the way I like I like him."

"Jenny-"

"I tried to kiss him. I tried to kiss him but he refused me." She looked so mad and upset. Despite the part of you that was relieved Phineas didn't cheat on Charity, you felt your heart breaking for the woman sitting next to you.

"Jenny.." You wiped some of the tears off her face and she pulled you into a hug. You never seen Jenny act like this before and it shocked you. It was the look of rejection. It was the look of pain. She never had been rejected before.

"And the worse part is, is I thought I love him but I don't know what I feel anymore. I-i'm just so confused." You shushed her and hugged her tight. "It's okay, Jenny. Everything is going to be alright. It's okay to be confused. It's normal. I'm sure everything will work out. Everything happens for a reason. We may not understand why in the moment, but eventually it will make sense in the future. It's going to be okay. I promise."

"Yeah but, where do I go from here? People will talk. Say things about the both of us and nothing is going to be the same after this." She was practically panicking. "Just relax..For right now, no one has word of anything and don't worry about where to go yet. You have time to figure all that out. It's going to be alright." You held onto her tightly, not knowing if you should do more or less for her. "Thanks, Y/n."

You kissed her sweet smelling red hair and patted her back. "You're welcome." The two of you sat together in silence for a moment. Despite not knowing how you even felt about all this, you treasured the silence between the two of you.

After a while, Jenny pulled away from you abruptly and stared deeply into your eyes. "Jenny? Jenny, you're staring at me. What's-" Her luscious red lips smacked against yours and your eyes widened, trying not to melt into the kiss. "Don't speak."

"Jenny..Jenny, what are you doing?!" You rasped and attempted to pull away from her but she grabbed your hand. "It's always been you, you know that right?"

"Jenny, it has not always been me. You basically just told me, you want to fuck Phineas. This is not you acting out of love. This is you acting out of-"

She interrupted you, putting a finger up to your lips. "I've always loved you. I thought I loved Phineas but no, I love you. You and only you."

"I-i love you too..I think? I don't know! I'm so confused! Jenny, people will talk. People will say things about us. Mean things about us. Don't you care?" She kissed you sweetly on the lips. "Who cares what people think as long as we have each other."

Despite how wrong it felt, it also felt so right and you gave into her touch. Praying you wouldn't regret it later as she ran her hands through your hair as she kissed you. "I..I love you my darling."

"L-love you too." You could feel Jenny caressing your sides and you moaned slightly as her lips left yours. "I want you, Y/n. I want you right now." She pressed you back again the mattress and you looked at her wide eyed and terrified. "I-i never done this before."

"Then I'll teach you. No fear, understand?" You nodded in spite of your growing anxiety and Jenny began to pepper small kisses down your face and neck, leaving little love marks here and there. "So, so beautiful." You could feel her hands working at the buttons on the top of your blouse, the sides of her hands kneading your breast.

You bit down on your lip to prevent a moan of frustration and you could of sworn you seen Jenny smile. "Oh darling..by the time I'm done with you, there will be no amount of lip biting to hide those luscious noises."

You blushed in embarrassment as she pulled off your top and bra. Peppering tiny kisses all over your breast before playfully biting at your nipples. You hissed in a mix of pain in pleasure, pulling at her hair as she moved lower down your body.

She looked up at me before pulling all your clothes off, dragging your silk panties along the way. Jenny spread your legs apart before lifting one of them up, placing it on her shoulder. You felt her trail small kisses on the inside of your thigh, your tongue licking alongside your folds.

Jenny's hand took hold of your thighs, holding them in place as she started to lick back and forth with her tongue against your cunt. “So wet and I’ve barely touched you” Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as your head fell back against the wall.

You felt her tounge flicking back and you arched your back. "Fuck, fuck!" You screamed then covered your mouth, not wanting anyone to hear you. "T-this feels so good!"

"I told you..I'm a piece of work!" You heard a hand bang against the wall from whoever had the room next door to you and Jenny sighed. "Oh fuck off!"

She quickly got back to work. The room which felt cold from the rain a outside was now hot like a sauna and the two of you were sweating. You were hitting your peak and you gasped, squeezing onto the white satin sheets.

"I-i can't take much more!" You grunted. "Cum for me, my darling. I want you to." You felt the pit in your stomach growing and you screamed in euphoria as you came. What the hell had you been missing all this time?

As you laid there, still in a daze. Jenny wiped the sweat off your forehead and laid down next to you. "That was...amazing."

"It was always is when you're with me." You slapped her arm and planted a kiss on her lips before burying your head in her chest. "My good girl." She kissed the top of your head and you laid there in her arms, not caring who thought what about anything that just happened between the two of you. None of that mattered now. As long as you had your Jenny.

#jenny lind #jenny lind x reader #the greatest showman

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undiscovered-horror-icon · 4 years ago

Text

SlipKnot the Beginning

[All of this info was copied form the archive of this blog on Skyrock.com circa 2009-2010: User - maggot777 on SkyRock . com]

[I’m just sharing it and take no credit]

Des Moines is the capital of Iowa, the twenty-ninth of the fifty states of the USA. The city contains about 200,000 inhabitants for a little less than 200,000 km² and 500,000 reside in the suburbs. There is no Persian diversity in Des Moines, to speak in numbers 90% of people are white. The city is not known as a "dynamic" city, it is rather total boredom there! If we had to summarize what there is in Des Moines we would put: offices (especially insurance companies), factories, churches, a few shops and buildings ... ah I forgot the city hosts also the World Pork Expo. We understand why some say it's "the asshole of the United States"! "It's not just a big urban center, it's not a village either, it's just ... the area. There is absolutely nothing to do. The main activity for young people is 'is to find something to do. In Des Moines, everything is closed at 6 p.m. When you're not old enough, you can't go to a club; when you're old, you go. and you realize that it really sucks. And then it's a very conservative place, where people are not very inclined to encourage artists, whoever they are. " (James Root in Guitar Part, July 2001) "Des Moines is like a cemetery with buildings growing on it. It's a small place, with a majority of old people. It's the second highest concentration of old people in the country. Imagine what it is like. to be 15 years old in this puritanical and totalitarian environment. There is nothing else to do but to have rabies! " (Corey Taylor in Hit Parader, May 2000) However, it was during a concert in Des Moines that one of rock's greatest anecdotal moment happened. On that day of January 20, 1982, Ozzy Osbourne was playing in the city and tore off the head of the live bat! Indeed a spectator had thrown the animal, then unconscious, on the stage to provoke the singer who, thinking that it was one of his plastic bats, bit it deeply! Several rabies vaccines were injected into him. It was this event that traumatized young Joey Jordison, aged less than 7, for life. In high school he joined the Avanga group as a guitarist. But considering the terrible level of the drummer he had to place himself behind the drums. But quickly he is annoyed by the other members of the group, preferring to smoke weed and get drunk at various student parties. He then left the group and created Modifious. He recruits his neighbor Tim on vocals and Jay, Avanga's guitarist who has since become one of Joey's best friends. The trio that lacked a bass player found one in Ryan who had responded to the ad about the band. Modifious then makes Trash Metal, a style that fascinates Joey. Unfortunately some time after the formation of the group, Jay is killed one evening, in a car accident, after falling asleep at the wheel. Despite the drama, Modifious hires a new guitarist named Bruce. But the Bruce in question abandoned the group some time later and joined Atomic Opera. He is replaced by a certain Craig Jones, a friend of Ryan's. In 1992, Tim left the group, replaced by Josh Brainard on guitar and vocals. It is this formation which, in 1993, will record the first two demo cassettes of Modifious: Visceral and Mud Fuschia. By dint of playing intensively in Des Moines and its surroundings, the group began to have a good reputation. He even manages to get the first part of the group Type O Negative! Which will be their hour of glory. In 1994, the two demos are combined in a CD: Sprawl. Then the Trash Metal went out of fashion giving way to Death and Black. The group then changes style for a more radical music but that displeases Ryan who leaves the group. Following the departure of Ryan and the disaffection of the public Modifious split up in 1995. But Joey has already planned everything: he has two groups in parallel. He is the guitarist of Paul Gray, when he arrived in Des Moines in 1989, played in VeXX where he was bassist alongside guitarist-singer Josh Brainard and drummer Anders Colsefini. In 1991, VeXX changed its name (but not its line-up) and became Inveigh Catarsis until 1993. From this date the guitarist-singer Josh Brainard left the group to join Modifious. The group therefore split up, but Paul and Anders, who have become very friends, form a new group. They then formed Body Pit, a Death Metal combo composed of guitarist Mick Thompson, second guitarist DonnieSteele and Danny Spain on drums. Body Pit, starting to make itself known, even managed to compete with Modifious and Atomic Opera in the Des Moines Metal scene. Beside that, Paul finds his drummer friend Joey Jordison in the group Anal Of Blast that But let's take a step back. We are in 1992 and Paul is part of the Painface group. He plays alongside his friend Anders Colsefini on vocals, Patrick M. Neuwirth on guitar and drummer Shawn Crahan. The quartet plays dark and aggressive music and, rehearsing in Paul Gray's cellar, they manage to compose five pieces: "Slipknot", "Gently", "Idiot", "What's Wrong" and "Wise Up". They record his songs with the means at hand. These pieces gathered under the title of Basement Sessions, are in fact part of a rehearsal of the group. In 1993, Shawn Crahan joined another group: Heads on the Wall. This event will temporarily stop Painface's career. During its three years of existence, from 1993 to 1995, Heads on the Wall will perform four times in the first part of Modifious. The guitarist is a certain Kun Nong with whom he decides to set up another project called Meld. The group therefore brings together Shawn Crahan on drums, Kun Nong on guitar, Paul Gray on bass, Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Anders Colsefini as singer and Donnie Steele on guitar. Even though the band members start to compose a few songs, Shawn can't seem to get the band off the ground. But in 1995, while he was tinkering with Paul Gray in his garage, Shawn told him that he wanted to create THE band. Shawn and Paul recruit Anders on vocals, Donnie on guitar, and Kun on guitar to create The Pale Ones. The combo will repeat and compose, in the basement of Anders 'parents' house, as if their life depended on it. To perfect their technique, they go so far as to film their rehearsals on video! One day Shawn's mom looked at one of the tapes and said, "Anders, you look like a wolf ready to attack. Shawn you look like a gorilla. And the band in general makes me feel like I'm attending the party. what would overexcited cavemen give before going to slaughter a mammoth! " From that moment on, Shawn will be called Kong by his comrades as a nickname and in tribute to King Kong. But about two months after the formation of the group Kun Nong decides to leave the group and turns to more punk projects. Anders would later say: "Kun Nong is a phenomenal and exceptional guitarist, but certainly not a Metal guitarist." Meanwhile Paul tries to convince his friend Joey to join the group on one of his nightly visits to his workplace. Joey works at Sinclair's gas station. Paul suggests that she go see a rehearsal. He will miss two because of his job, but he will eventually come to Anders 'parents' basement to see the band play. It is low to the ceiling, narrow and covered with bits of carpet to absorb sound and avoid neighborhood problems. But unfortunately, the carpet from a pet store is impregnated with the smell of puppy urine that does not control their bladder! Despite the drawbacks, the little drummer was impressed by the three pieces performed: “Slipknot”, “Gently and“ Fur. ”Joey then said to himself that he absolutely must join this training. This is what he will do officially on September 15, 1995. The group, now composed of a drummer AND a percussionist, takes more power. Shawn then leaves his place of drummer to Joey and tinkers with a percussion kit thanks to his talents as a welder. During Joey's long working nights at Sincair's, Paul and Shawn visit him. They then talk about the future of the group. Shawn then declares that there should be a second percussionist to increase the aggressiveness of the combo. Anders then agrees to sing and do percussion. In the visual, like Joey, Shawn is a big fan of Kiss, it is also the first concert he saw during the Creatures Of The Night tour. Moreover one fine day, Shawn arrives at a masked rehearsal of a clown mask. A few day later, Joey did the same and arrived with a Kabuki mask, which is in traditional Japanese theater, on his face. He also has the good idea to add red and black paints to it for a more frightening aspect. Which is also in agreement with his two-tone hair of the same color. But the idea of the masks at first was just a joke. Joey will say later: "We had trouble playing a song, we were so laughing!". To replace Kun Nong the group decides to recruit guitarist Josh Brainard to add a melodic touch to the sextet. The group now containing six musicians, composes in a very short time six new songs: "Killers Are Quiet", "Do Nothing / Bitchslap", "Confessions", "Some Feel", "Part of Me" and "Tattered And Torn" . After briefly changing their group name to Pyg System the sextet then adopts the name Slipknot ("flowing neud"). Joey is in charge of the group's logo. He first creates a beautiful tribal "S" then draws the logo of the typographical group SlipKnoT. The idea of putting a capital "K" came from the fact that Joey, in these days, was a mega-fan of KoЯn. A few months later, Anders got the tribal "S" tattooed by a certain Greg "Cuddles" Welts who soon became the band's official tattoo artist. It must also be said that Greg, since 1995, is the drummer of Have Nots, a group of Hardcore Punk directed by David "DaVo" Wilkins, owner of the tattoo and piercing shop Axiom where Greg works, and in which Paul and Joey officiate. as ... guitarists! Des Moines being quite small, people quickly learn of the existence of the group without it being done in concert yet. In November 1995, the group decided to give a small concert in a local club named Crowbar (which would later be renamed The Love Shack) but under the name Meld, to keep the mystery on SlipKnoT (an idea of Josh). This intimate concert was done under a greenish lighting, without a mask, but with make-up inspired by the group Kiss and fancy accessories, such as pipes crossing the various piercings of Paul's face and Anders' wolf skin. The group being convinced that their compositions were of quality, he decides to contact a professional recording studio to put the compositions on CD. They contacted THE Des Moines studio called SR Studio. It is directed by a certain Mike Lawyer who has produced artists such as Todd Rundgren, Tinny Tim or Michael Bolton. At the end of 1995, Anders and Paul meet the sound engineer of the studio: Sean McMahon. They manage to convince Sean to come see them rehearse. He then made the trip to the cellar of Anders' parents to see the sextet repeated. At the end of rehearsal, Sean remains speechless as he is so impressed by their music, he does not understand their approach or their lyrics. He then agrees to produce their first recording. Work then begins at SR Studio, where the band goes there as soon as possible to rehearse, play and record as much as possible for the album whose title they have already chosen: Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. To feel at home and make themselves comfortable, they decide to redecorate the studio in their own way: porn posters, particular lights, toys and objects testifying to the strange atmosphere that reigns there. The bizarre atmosphere moves to the parking lot where corpses drawn in chalk appear ... The tracks are recorded live with the three drummers at the same time. Shawn puts so much heart into the work that the (poor) wall next to his percussion is filled with holes made by his sticks and fists. For one track, Joey plays the drums completely naked! Throughout this recording period, Joey continues to work at Sinclair's gas station. He left rehearsals around 10 pm, picked up a CD player and a portable TV, and began his night shift. An hour or two later, Shawn usually joins him to talk about the future of the group until five in the morning. These "small working meetings" used to scare potential customers who went to seek their essence, But the finalization of the album, arrived at the mixing stage, may be longer than expected. Indeed, in February 1996, Donnie, the guitarist of the group, decided to leave the group because "the musical and spiritual orientation" did not suit him because he would in fact have had a mystical revelation and would therefore have seen God! The other members of the group, being tolerant, accepted his departure amicably. Joey then proposes to replace Donnie by Craig Jones, the last guitarist to date of Modifious. Craig then arrives in the middle of mixing the album. The atmosphere within the group is tense: the mix is most chaotic! Each of the six band members give a different opinion of how one song should sound than another. Having a habit of remedying it with violence to sort out the various problems, Joey, Paul, Anders, Shawn and Josh often come to blows. In addition, in the end, the group is very disappointed with the mastering of the album and insists that Sean remake it himself. During the mixing, SlipKnoT discovers that in addition to being an excellent guitarist, Craig is a computer buff and handles samples wonderfully. However, before releasing a record, the sextet must prove itself on stage. It was finally on April 4, 1996 that SlipKnoT gave its first real concert in a Rock club in Des Moines called Safari. The rumor of the group having swelled, it is about 200 people who come to attend the concert, which is about the maximum of people that the club can contain. Taken by Joey in his own car, SlipKnoT is already dressed exceptionally. Shawn wears his Clown mask and Joey wears his kabuki mask; Paul has his piercings attached to each other again, Anders is covered in tribal paint, Josh is masked with an executioner's hood, and Craig wears a stocking on his face. While the group is piling up on the small stage, Joey starts repeating the same phrase, louder and louder and more and more mean: "I need a little Christmas in my drink!". Then the group starts with its eponymous hymn: "Slipknot". The group will then make its small effect although sharing the poster with another group endowed with a more important notoriety named Stone Sour and carried by their singer: a certain Corey Taylor. The Corey in question, being there during the band's performance, soon became a big fan of the band. The following month, SlipKnoT will be featured seven times as Safari's headliner. During their second concert at Safari; Paul chose to cover his face with a pig mask "because it was cheap", which earned him the nickname Porky. The machine being launched, at each concert the members disguised themselves in the most extravagant ways by associating the great guignolesque with the unhealthy. Indeed, at one performance, Shawn showed up wearing a Barney costume, a fat half-man, half-dinosaur figure appearing in an educational series for small children as the main hero. He would add later: "It was the hardest thing I have done in my whole life, but I managed to make Barney have it to be on crack!" The others will appear in turn dressed in the costume of a nun, a shepherdess, Santa Claus, in a worker's jumpsuit stained with paint or in a ball gown! The concerts are introduced by a sample, directed by Craig, of a mad laugh and a naive melody of an ice cream truck while Shawn uses a power saw to spark sparks above the impressed audience. Moreover, the idea of samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character went around the heads of all members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... the idea of samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character circled all of the members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... the idea of samples to accentuate the creepy and unhealthy character circled all of the members. Thus, Craig gave up his position as second guitarist to concentrate on electronics. Paul then had the idea to call his friend Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... call his buddy Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... call his buddy Mick Thompson with whom he had already played in the group Body Pit with Anders. But after Mick's arrival on guitar, the group being now seven, Anders 'parents' cellar became too small and Craig was forced to put his equipment in the laundry room! But it would have taken a lot more to discourage SlipKnoT ... It was finally on October 31, 1996 that the group gave birth to its first record: Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. The album, printed in 1000 copies, will have cost a total of 15,000 dollars, between recording, mixing, mastering and pressing. A large part of the sum was paid by Shawn, which indebted him heavily. To celebrate the release of the CD, SlipKnoT organized a big party bringing together no less than 400 people obviously all masked! This Halloween party will mark, according to the group, a turning point in the history of Safari. It is indeed from this event that the Metal public began to frequent the club regularly. The picture of the album cover, with its glaucous atmosphere, in fact shows Joey masked and crouched in a metal cage bristling with spikes and including the mechanism of a large circular saw. This instrument of torture was obviously built by Mr. Crahan, like a work of art which he delicately titled Patiently Awaiting Jigsaw Flesh ("Flesh patiently waiting for the jigsaw"). The title of the album refers to the most basic cycle of life: to mate ("Mate"), to feed ("Feed"), to kill ("Kill") and to start again ("Repeat") this infinite cycle. . These nine tracks already carry the basics of today's SlipKnoT. In the notes of the libretto, the group dedicates the album to a certain Joey. He is not' This is of course not drummer Joey Jordison but Joey Plumley, Franck Plumley's brother being a close friend of the band. This Joey accidentally died while handling a gun while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the group: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. It's actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the band: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. This is actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. while the band was recording the album. On the internal photo of the CD, we also see two people close to the group: Greg Welts and DaVo. Finally the booklet includes the name of Corn Wallace. It's actually the name Joey and Anders coined after the drummer drew a childish monster with huge claws and wacky hair. They then began to use this name to sign, one these drawings and the other these texts. Most copies of Mate. Feed. Kill. Repeat. are sent to fanzines and radio stations that can promote them. But it was on a local radio station in Iowa, KKDM 107.5, that a certain Sophia Jones received the CD and, although not an outstanding Metal specialist, particularly enjoyed the album. She then begins to make a rave review of the album, which then allows SlipKnoT to participate in the Battle of Bands, a competition organized every Wednesday by KKDM at the Safari, and which opposes groups of Des Moines to make themselves better known or at best get noticed by a label. In his first competition, SlipKnoT faces Stone Sour and wins which allows Corey Taylor to think he would really like to sing in this band! During his subsequent participations, SlipKnoT then begins to become a very busy occupation for each of the members of the group, including Joey and Paul who also have to perform within the Have Nots. Especially since Joey, who does not drink, does not support very well the alcoholism of his comrades including Paul! It is besides after a particularly catastrophic performance in October 1996 that Joey threatens to tackle the group to concentrate only on SlipKnoT. It is therefore from this moment that the members of the group will agree not to drink before a concert. Meanwhile, SlipKnoT is starting to gain momentum but no label wants them! It was then that the group asked Sophia Jones to become their manager. She hesitates but accepts because she feels a lot of talent in them. She even declared after a few months: "I see SlipKnoT doing Ozzfest, selling a million albums, making the cover of Rolling Stones and starting her own label."

#slipknot #greasy fuckin rats <3

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niubie-draws · 5 years ago

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MEET MY IKEVAMP OC

Julie D’Aubigny

(im sorry if the quality doesnt look right im still trying to figure out how to upload my art to platforms)

anyways let me introduce her

Julie D’Aubigny

the opera singing duelist

Julie is known by historians for her flamboyant and eventful lifestyle chasing one craze after another. with her sharp tongue and her equally sharp sword it is hard to believe that she is a goofy as they come and doesn’t even bother to hide it. always cracking jokes and teasing others and always lives a forever lasting impression on those she meets. but behind her crazy and bubbly exterior seems to hide loneliness

hobbies: sword fighting, singing, and long walks(aka wandering off to god knows where)

likes: spicy foods, women, traveling and singing

dislikes: sweets: staying put, social constructs

past occupation: Opera singer, duelist

Vampire Type: Greater Vampire

Personality: very outgoing and cheerful women that makes a lot of different types of jokes. loves to tease others to piss them off to get a rise out of them but gets mad when other do to same to the people she cares about. hates staying in one spot and loves to travel. she is also Bisexual and loves to hit on the ladies and gets cocky when men get mad.

Trivia:

-was once married but got a divorce later one

-she loves spicy food and will often drown foods in hot sauce or spices (Ex. hot sauce instead of syrup on pancakes)

-she is secretly very smart but does not show it

i just love the acutal Julie she is a role model (this women literally dressed as a nun to sneak in a convent and burned down it down to get to her girlfirend. yes girlfriend she was hella bi and chaotic to the point the king of france at the time found her hilarious to the point he personally pardon her from being burned at the stake.... twice and was bestfriends with the kings gay crossdressing brother. the second time she got in trouble with the law was at a royal ball where she dressed as a man (with the prince cross dressing as her date) a danced with a noblewomen that three men loved and kissed her (in front of everyone) and challaged her to a duel.... and won a 3-1 sword match and return to the party) i just love this women

by the way all this happened before her 33 birthday what are you doing with your life

#Ikemen Vampire #IkeVamp #ikevamp oc #julie d'aubigny #my oc #i love this lady #i wish more people knew of her #choatic bi #i swear she was a dnd bard #that is the only explaination

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aparecium-hq · 4 years ago

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Welcome to Aparecium, Cat! You have been accepted for Matilda Nott. This is Beth speaking and obviously I have some bias toward Matilda, but both Kat and I think your take on her adds so much that should be very fun to play out on the dash. Check out the new member checklist, and jump right in.

Character Basics

Birthday (Age): May 3rd 2004 (23)

Gender (Pronouns): Female (she/her)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Blood Status: Pureblood

Hogwarts House/School: Slytherin

Occupation: Aspiring singer

Faceclaim: Barbie Ferreira

Any requested changes? Nope

Biography:

When Matilda was born her grandparents had gifted her a beautiful, ornate, silver rattle. It had been decorated with intricate silver flowers embedded with diamonds, a gold snake twisting up the handle with eyes of emeralds which peered at the newborn who looked back, completely perplexed. The long silver handle was far too thin for her tiny hands to grip properly, and the rattle head too heavy for her to lift, let alone shake. Matilda’s mother had quickly ripped it away from her when they found the baby with the rattle end in her mouth, trying to chew on it and covering it in dribble. From that moment on the rattle lived in one of the Nott mansion’s many hallway display cases, out of reach from Matilda for whom it was useless for anyway, and on display.

Matilda always tried to please her parents, she just often found herself confused at what they were expecting from her. Their standards were impossibly high that she often wondered if they were setting her up for failure. As a child they expected perfect manners, her face to always have a polite smile and for her clothes to stay pressed and neat. While Matilda said her please and thank yous, smiled graciously at guests, and made sure to never spill her food down her front ,by the end of the day her hair had always fallen out of its tight braids and her skirt had become wrinkled. While Theodore and Juniper’s friends thought of Matilda as the perfect daughter that they all wished they had, Matilda often saw her mother purse her lips and look scoldingly at Matilda while brushing the creases out of her dresses. She was good enough not to be punished, but not perfect.

During her school days her parents expected Matilda to be top of every class, for her to make the right friends and for her to keep out of trouble. Matilda studied hard in the library, handed in all of her homework on time and achieved Os or Es in nearly every subject she took at O.W.L and N.E.W.T level. Her teachers generally thought favourably of her, complimenting her classwork and praising her work ethic, but with every E on her report card, Matilda was told by her parents she needed to work harder. Good enough to not get a howler, but not perfect.

Matilda was sorted into Slytherin and largely kept her friendship group within her house, the only notable exception being Saoirse Finnigan. Her parents, while not knowing the extent of the girls’ relationship, knew that Saoirse was not the kind of girl Matilda should be friends with. Every time her parents asked if she had stopped spending time with “That Hufflepuff Girl” and insisted she spend more time with her Slytherin classmates Matilda was reminded her choice of friends was good enough for them not to make a fuss, but not perfect.

Matilda started to get bored of this in her teenage years. She knew she would never be perfect in their eyes and had many restless nights wondering if it was even worth trying anymore. There were times when she considered just telling them to go screw themselves - she’d written out speeches she wanted to yell across the dining hall. She wanted to tell them that they couldn’t control her, she was her own person and she would do whatever the fuck she wanted. These daydreams increased in frequency when she realised she was in love with Saoirse.

It had happened slowly. They’d been friends for a while already when Saoirse had asked her out on a date. It had come as a complete surprise to Matilda who had never bothered to think much about relationships - she was going to marry some handsome Slytherin boy that her parents liked, that had always been the plan. She’d agreed to the date anyway though. The excitement of this small rebellion, a few dates with the Hufflepuff girl, was enough to satiate Matilda’s need to stick it to her parents. Not that they ever knew, of course. Just picturing their faces was enough for Matilda, it would have been far too scary to actually tell them.

A few dates lead to a few more and Matilda was enjoying herself too much to think about how painful it would be when it had to end. But it did have to end. Matilda had always known that, even if she’d neglected to tell Saoirse. It was selfish and wrong, even Matilda knew that. Five years together and she neither had the courage to tell her parents they were together or tell Saoirse it would never work. It was ultimately Saoirse who had to walk away, leaving Matilda alone and heartbroken.

After graduating from Hogwarts and splitting with Saoirse, Matilda found her back living in her parents’ mansion, under their thumb once more. They had this idea that Matilda should become a classical singer. She’d had singing lessons as a child and had shown some talent for it. She’d been in the Hogwarts choir and often had solos but she was not professional material. It was a delusion of Matilda’s mother, who adored the opera, that one day they would sit proudly and watch Matilda in her favourite opera The Magic Flute. Matilda was not under the same delusion as her mother, but she did as she was told and attended auditions. What was the point in protesting? It was the first time her parents had thought she might be good at something.

It was a special kind of humiliation being rejected from every single audition and seeing her mother’s disappointed eyes every single time. When Matilda suggested she might be better suited to something more academic, her mother scoffed and reminded her of the smattering of Es on her report card. Besides, Matilda was of the age that she was expected to marry soon and at that point a full time job was out of the question. Singing might offer some flexibility.

The idea of being wed was too painful for Matilda to think about, her break up with Saoirse still feeling like a fresh wound, but after a couple of years of Matilda dragging her feet her parents chose for her. Raphael Selwyn. Handsome, smart and from good stock. She’d resisted the idea at first, but it was futile. If she wasn’t going to fulfil her parents’ wishes then why had she thrown Saoirse away? It wouldn’t be such a bad life. She’d learn to move on, learn to be happy with Raphael, learn to finally please her parents. At least now she was too busy choosing wedding dresses with her mother to embarrass herself at auditions.

Character Questionnaire

How does your character feel about their family?

Matilda’s relationship with her parents is full of complex emotions and confusion. They always treated her well enough, spoiling her with material things, showering her with love on the very few occasions she managed to reach their impossibly high expectations. She felt she had no reason to complain but their snide remarks and disapproval of even the slightest slip up on Matilda’s behalf upset her deeply. She is constantly trying to please them even though part of her knows she will never fully succeed. It doesn’t stop her trying.

During her teenage years at Hogwarts their relationship was more strained. Matilda had ‘bad influences’ around her (namely That Hufflepuf Girl that her parents disliked so much) and for a period it had made Matilda want to rebel. That’s over now. Back home with them she has become resigned to the fact that she will always live under her parents’ thumb. She has accepted that, and now that she has their relationship has improved, particularly the relationship with Matilda and Juniper, her mother.

In recent years Juniper has become quite unwell and the healers at St. Mungos are not hopeful about her recovery. Still, she has some time left and Matilda plans to make the most of it. Maybe before her mother passes they can fix the strained relationship between them and finally Matilda can earn her approval. All Juniper wants to talk about is wedding dresses.

What does your character value in a friendship?

If Matilda were asked what she values she would say she wanted friends who were kind, polite and considerate of others, just as she tries to be. In reality Matilda is drawn to people who excite her - people who force her to see the world from a new perspective. Deep down Matilda wants to be stolen away from her current life and live forever in an adventure book and this is reflected in the people she admires and wishes were her friends.

How would a stranger who has just met your character describe them?

Matilda is polite, courteous and will laugh at any joke - so long as it’s not in poor taste. She is nice to everyone, regardless of their background. She knows how to keep a mood light and friendly. When most people meet her they find her incredibly dull.

Matilda is unable to delve any deeper than small talk with strangers, keeping shallow conversation about mundane topics that couldn’t possibly offend anyone but they never excite either. It takes some time before Matilda feels comfortable talking about anything more interesting than general chit-chat and by that point most people have written her off as a boring pureblood girl with no thoughts or opinions of her own. This isn’t entirely untrue. While Matilda strays from her parents beliefs regarding magical integration she never voices these opinions and in other areas she just believes what she is told to believe. She is so lost and confused as to who she is and has been so used to hiding it from her parents and the rest of pureblood society that strangers only see the veneer she’s invented to keep her safe from her parents’ judgement.

Para Sample

Cake tasting, dress shopping, seating arrangements, flower choosing, hiring a venue. The list seemed to go on and on and on. They hadn’t even set a date yet! Surely they didn’t need to start thinking about all of this now? It seemed ludicrous to plan for an event that might not even happen… She wasn’t really supposed to think that last bit though.

Matilda sat at the large dining table in the Nott’s mansion, fingers running over different sheets of lace absent-mindedly. She was supposed to be picking her favourite lace, for what she didn’t know.

“Honestly Matilda, you’re going to ruin that lace running your greasy fingers all over it,” Juniper snapped, snatching the lace out of her fingers. “Now which one do you want?”

There was a correct answer, Matilda knew this. Her mother had already decided on a lace and it was her job to guess which one she wanted. She surveyed the selection properly for the first time.

“I like the pale purple, with the birds.”

She appeared to have made the right choice as Juniper pursed her lips and folded it up putting it in the pile with the rest of the materials they’d chosen that day. She only paused to reprimand Matilda. “It’s called lilac. Pale purple, really!”

Matilda didn’t reply, nodding sheepishly. Her mother was in a particularly foul mood today and she knew better than to argue back. There had been a problem with the house elf or something. Matilda had long since checked out of the conversation counting down the hours until she was free to go. First, decisions on silk trimmings had to be made.

After several hours of this, Matilda was finally excused. It was a blessing to have even part of her day left to herself and expected her mother would send her to the music room to practice scales for the rest of the evening. Juniper was tired though, and Matilda could tell she simply didn’t have the energy to listen to Matilda’s warbles and announce when she was flat. It was an awful thing, to be secretly a little bit glad that her mother was unwell because at least she sometimes got the evening to herself but she couldn’t stop the thought passing her mind. She immediately felt guilty.

“Would you like me to run you a bath, mother?” Juniper just shook her head insisting she was just going to sit in the drawing room with Matilda’s father Theodore for a while. Read a nice book.

“Would you like to join us?”

“Thank you, but I might meet Raphael this evening since I have the time.” This was a straight up lie, she was hoping to escape and find something a little more interesting than spending time with her new fiancée. She’d been avoiding talking to, or even thinking about him. Still, the lie gained an approving smile from Juniper and Matilda was free to spend her evening how she wished.

She rushed to put on her winter coat excited to leave her family home and escape from the constant wedding discussions. The cold chill hit her face as soon as the front door opened making her cheeks burn red, wind tossing her hair around. She made it all the way down their gravel path and onto the street before she had to make a decision - left or right? Where was it exactly she wanted to go? Where was she escaping to?

Matilda paused trying to think of anywhere she could go. She could just go sit in the Leaky Cauldron. By herself. It didn’t seem that appealing. Arrive unannounced at a friend’s house perhaps. But would any of them be happy to see her at this time? It seemed rather rude to not send an owl ahead. Quickly all her excitement drained out of her and after a moment of silence Matilda turned on her heel walking back up to the Nott mansion.

“You’re not seeing Raphael?” Theodre asked when Matilda took a seat next to her mother in the drawing room.

“No, he’s busy tonight.”

#apareciumacceptance #rp #rpg #hp rp #harry potter rp

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headoverjojo · 5 years ago

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How would Rohan be taking the s / o who dreamed of spending time watching an opera or orchestra ? (I simply dream of going in one)

Hi there, darling! :3 ooooooh I loved this requeeeestttt *.* Thank you for sending it!! More Rohan~

Rohan Kishibe takes his s/o, who always dreamed to see an opera or orchestra, to theatre to see an opera

(Under the cut for length!)

Even after months together, a lot of people -or, better, who knew who the weird young man was for real- wondered how your relationship could work. And yes, you had to admit that Rohan could come out as arrogant, snarky, moody and even cold, but you knew that this was just appearance. You knew him better, you knew him to the core. You knew a Rohan the others couldn’t even imagine.

You had seen him when he was tired to the bone, welcoming him in your arms, listening to his mumblings while you were gently caressing his hair and rubbing his forehead, soothing the almost constant headache he had. You had seen him laughing for real, and, oh, his true and sincere laugh was something to treasure. He had smiles just for you, the few sweet words he said were just for you. No one would have ever believed you, if you had told it to someone, but you couldn’t care less: you loved Rohan and you knew that Rohan loved you and this was enough.

Rohan wasn’t vocal, in his feelings. He wasn’t always around saying “I love you”s, nor he was a cuddly or a touchy-feely person. He expressed his love more through considerate gestures, simple things that, however, mattered a lot to you. He perfectly knew how to fold your clothes in the way you liked the most; he always left you a slice or a piece of your favourite sweet, knowing how happy it would have made you; when he saw you were tired, he took care of everything, telling you to just relax on the couch. He never forgot an important date; even when he seemed so engrossed in his work to have forgotten it, surprise! He had everything ready for the special occasion. Never, not even once, you felt put in a corner, near Rohan. He was an observant man: you didn’t need to tell him what you would have liked, as he, just observing, already had an idea.

And this happened also for your anniversary. You were, by now, used to your boyfriend who seemed to have forgotten the important date, so you weren’t surprised or angry when, entering home, you saw nothing special, just the usual twilight penumbra. Rohan was working in his studio, as usual. You stretched, putting your purse and bags on the kitchen table and here, near to a small box of your favourite chocolates -small not because he was stingy, but because he knew you liked them so much to eat them all together, so, in order to avoid a stomach ache, a small box was the only way- there was a note. You took it, while happily munching a chocolate, and, written in Rohan’s elegant handwriting, there was: “Happy anniversary, darling. Please, change in the dress I’ve prepared for you in our room. I’ll join you downstairs as soon as you’re ready.”. You huffed a small laugh, popping in your mouth another chocolate, before neatly folding the note and taking it with you, walking out of the kitchen. A typical Rohan-cryptid message…

Following the instructions, you went upstairs, smiling when you saw the light in his studio filtering from the door slightly opened, and you passed over, going to your bedroom. Your breath stopped for a second, when you saw the beautiful clothes on the bed. Elegant, perfectly tailored… you wanted to try it on immediately. You quickly stripped out of your clothes and, after a quick shower, you finally put them on. They were perfect on your body, as it was to expect, from Rohan: he perfectly knew your body size and he had an incredible eye to find what could fit you better, exalting your natural shapes. You felt beautiful, in those clothes. Assuming it would have been a fancy night, you put on a bit of makeup and adjusted your hair accordingly. Then, you finally went downstairs, feeling all giddy and content, wondering what kind of surprise Rohan had for you. After few moments, Rohan joined you, already dressed in an elegant suit. You smiled at him, content, trotting to him to give him a kiss on the lips, enjoying his embrace. Ah, now it was a good anniversary…

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.” you blushed, treasuring one of the few sweet compliments he was willing to give, shyly smiling at him.

“You too are not bad.” you replied, chuckling when he rolled his eyes, in amusement, at your joke. He took your hand, then, guiding you to the car, without any hurry. You sat on the passenger seat, excited and curious. Where were you going? To a restaurant, maybe to Tonio’s? Or where?

“Where are we going, Rohan?” you asked, visibly excited. Rohan smiled a little, seeing how eager you were, turning on the engine and driving towards… towards where? Not to Tonio’s, for sure… Tokyo? Was that the road to Tokyo?

“It’s a surprise, dear.” he replied, mysterious, making you roll your eyes. Oh, c’mon…! You decided, in any case, to play the game following his rules. You never had been disappointed, all in all, in the past: you wouldn’t be so now, you were sure about it.

Soon, you were entering Tokyo. You looked out with amazement, mesmerized by the thousands blinding lights of the metropolis. Tokyo always had a certain charm, but during night… during night it was magical.

You blinked, when Rohan stopped the car. He turned off the engine, exiting and going to open your door, gaining another light blush from you, and you finally lifted your head, noticing where you were.

“The New National Theatre? Are we…?” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, as excitement bubbled again in you. Rohan smiled again, picking from his pocket two tickets. You couldn’t believe it. You seriously couldn’t believe it.

“You remembered that I wanted to see the Turandot?!” you squealed, staring at the tickets. You knew that Rohan had an incredible memory, but you said that months ago and even absentmindedly…

Rohan seemed almost offended by your lack of trust on his memory, and huffed, taking again your hand and walking to the entrance.

“I remember everything you say, you know.” he replied, almost snarky, giving the tickets to the ticket taker and then guiding you inside the building. You gently squeezed his hand, caressing the back of it with your thumb, in a relaxing circle motion that he liked so much. Your way to apologize.

And it seemed to have worked, as, when you sat down, he was visibly more relaxed and he even smiled slightly at you. Crisis averted…

You couldn’t contain your excitement. You had always dreamed to go to see an opera, and you always loved the Turandot in particular. And now you were here, in the theatre, with your boyfriend, the Turandot was about to start… you couldn’t wish anything more. It was all perfect.

You stilled, when the curtain lifted, starting the opera. Rohan appreciated classical music concerts and operas, but now… now the only sight that mattered, for him, was your face. Hidden in the penumbra, Rohan watched with affection as your face twisted in awe, in sympathy, in tension, following the various phases of the story, during the three acts. You were… magnificent. Every expression you were making was impressed in his mind; you were the star of that night, for him, not the singers on the stage. You with your small quirks and intense expressions and passion. And, when the opera ended and the whole audience got up to applaud the incredible performance of the artists, Rohan applauded you, in his heart, his precious Y/N who brought a fresh breeze in his life.

You were his dream, after all.

#jjba #diamond is unbreakable #beautiful duwang #rohan kishibe #neutral s/o #s/o who dreams to see an opera or orchestra #scenario #sfw #lia-barnes

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charismastaticarchive · 5 years ago

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manuela hc:

the grande dame : an exploration of lgbt/camp tropes and anime jokes leading to a complex and likable portrayal of a modern day stock tropes.’

the grande dame is a stock trope of Older Women who represent the stuffy, uppity matronly upper class to comedic effect.

from the tvtropes page : ‘they are usually a spinster or widow’ (such as manuela is Forever Unlucky In Love) and if they are married they will be a patron of the arts that drags her husband to operas, even more cultured than the ‘prima donna’ (which manuela was implied to be in the past, but has grown past to become a highly educated professor healer and warrior in addition to her talents in theatre). when the grande dame does have a sympathetic streak, they tend to be an oddball themself (like manuela). she can be a ‘moral guardian’ (and manuela’s skills are in faith magic and she does believe in the goddess), but failing their duty towards ‘respectability’ they turn to drink. (which sounds exactly like manuela).

we could just say that manuela was thus a complicated prima donna that gave up the theatre and turned to drink after aging out of her youthful beauty, into a grande dame figure. certainly, if you look at examples of the grande dame in classical literature, it seems to be a very open-and-shut stock caricature played completely for comedic effect, as does manuela’s whininess and flirtatious milf/cougarness and ‘well i never!’ esque tone. (and she certainly does seem to turn to drink for that very reason.)

but why would u ever compare an OPERA SINGER to classic literature when u could instead compare her to the stage and screen? she’s an actress with a theatrical personality. and that’s where the lgbt readding comes in, as well as why so many lgbt people are attached to manuela, and characters like manuela, in my opinion.

the grande dame has a storied history with the lgbt community. first and foremost, in western society, there was a long history where only men could be actors (this was true in many other places of course, but we’re focusing on the west as manuela’s characterization is mostly focused on western tropes).

matronly older women characters played for comedic effect (such as the nurse in romeo&juliet, among other such classic roles), were thus played by men in drag. but the tradition of drag for matronly older women in theatre continued long after, to the point where the ‘pantomine dame’ is a storied character/trope in british pantomine---noted for its camp and ‘over the top’ performances, and the tradition continued across the sea in vaudeville drag performances---where lgbt people could graduate from grande dame roles to primma donnas in starring roles as women themselves, regardless of their assigned gender.

after the decline of the vaudeville era BECAUSE of its connection to the lgbt community (and sex work) during the prohibition/”progressive” era, the grande dame (and the inherent camp/gay sensibility of an older woman) did not just STOP EXISTING in the consciousness of western people, and especially not western lgbt people.

no, instead, the grande dame evolved into a still classically camp (over the top, out of place) but a character ever-more entangled in other classic tropes for tough/fierce/unhinged/dramatic women, that we still can see traces of today in every genre that lgbt people are attracted to.

from horror (whatever happened to baby jane and the 'hagsploitation’ that followed it) to musicals (mama rose in ‘rose’s turn’ is literally my tag for manuela but also cats the musical’s ‘memories’ could basically be the benevolent/sad grande dame mood), to fairy tales and children’s stories (Mother Gothel from tangled tho u could make a case for every disney woman villain and also scar as being one tbh, but also mia’s mother in a princess diaries is definitely one, and so is professor macgonagall), to spy dramas (judi dench), to biopics (from joan crawford to every queen pretty much ever) alllll the way back around to drag again (if you’ve ever watched drag race? half the winning snatch games are dames lol). to basically everything ryan murphy has ever done in his whole damn life, especially with Mother Jessica Lange.

the grande dame’s mean strictness and spite has come to represent a trapping for her secret vulnerability/softness (which is the source of her beauty), something lgbt people in particular can relate to as they have to hide their self/love from a world. the camp grande dame is almost always obsessed with beauty and age (so much of our community can’t picture getting old---or doesn’t want to, with many people being deathly afraid of hair loss due to hormones, etc. and then when it comes to attractiveness, attractiveness is often our measure of worth especially in the trans and gay sector, where ‘passing’ or ‘masculinity’ is viewed as a shorthand for ‘respectability’---and so many of us judge each other so harshly based on looks.) but more than anything, the grande dame is always LONELY, or alone, whether it be from being the best/most powerful/rich (and it’s lonely at the top), or in imposed exile due to her age/lack of beauty, the terrible things she’s done, the grande dame is almost always a metaphor for lgbt loneliness.

manuela’s characterization very much abides by these classic camp/gay sensibilities (as well as the classic ones). the modern day gay reading of the grande dame is a much more textured and layered one---but often, grande dames such as they done by judi dench in the 007 movies, or even ryan murphy using jessica lange in the politician---are still objectified by the male gaze with either sexual jokes, or as being made ‘more’ OR ‘less’ than human.... because the grande dame is such a stock trope (even when more complicated by Us Gays), the grande dame is either hypercompetent (in the case of litcherally all of judi dench’s characters or julie andrews’ characters, a Badass Older Woman who is not allowed to be anything more Than Tough And Perfect even when she is in a frenzied huff) or, on the other side of the coin, a complete and total joke or a sob story or picture of an abuser (or all three at once), such as in the case of All Jessica Lange’s Ryan Murphy Characters. Please God Let This Woman Be Free Of Ryan Murphy’s Clutches.

manuela, to me, represents an interesting figure in the Grand Canon of Grande Dames.

because while she is in every way an anime character---she represents a trope in anime we don’t see often. there are not a lot of older women characters in anime, and when they are---they are usually mid-20s maximum, or they are Sexually Dominant Women, extremely strong and competent women that Can And Will Beat Your Ass ( such as in the case of tsunade from naruto OR lotus from 999, etc). manuela is, thankfully, neither of these.

while fe3h presents manuela as a joke---like classic grande dames were presented as jokes, the way that manuela is presented, is as an ANIME character with ANIME jokes to people who are ALL familiar at this point with anime jokes, and we are able to relate to her more on a human level than we would relate to the fussy, bitter, overly loquacious grande dames of literature.

the average anime gamer can’t relate to a jane austen biddy talking to you about how the man you are dating is not of marriagable status, and does not think that is funny. but the average anime gamer WILL see you give manuela a porn magazine she thinks is ‘very valuable’ and chuckle a bit to themselves.

but more than that---the game really wants you to LIKE manuela. it makes her relatable to the average gamer who hasn’t cleaned their room in weeks---that sometimes will eat food off the floor, that likes to sing a little too loudly and who feels lonely sometimes (or always).

and even more than any of that, instead of presenting manuela as an UGLY or evil old woman, or an abuser, or an extremely rich woman, and in presenting manuela instead as so very likable and funny, it presents manuela as someone who looks and acts desirable as a friend (and a lover). manuela is a grande dame who is not only sympathetic---she’s human AND FLAWED, just like you, even when her behavior is all jokes and huffiness.

you WANT to be manuela’s friend. you WANT to look deeper into manuela as a person and not a trope---even though she is OBJECTIVELY made up of anime jokes and stock character tropes!

and so this game ends up painting a picture of a lonely woman, a woman who considers herself weak, a woman who is messy, and funny, and loud, who fights (and sometimes is bested by those who are stronger than her)--who pushes other women out of the way to get ahead, but still loves children, who still wants (and deserves) to be loved. even tho most of this information, as manuela relays it to you, is viewed as comedic.

and as manuela is not painted as the grande dame who is a villain---as she is painted so beautifully and theatrically in opera tropes---you can really and truly see her as the star of her own show, a lovely woman trying to live her life the best she can in an adult world that is hard and cruel. just like you are, regardless of ur gender, age, or sexuality.

and from that point of understanding manuela as the grande dame, u can extrapolate manuela in ur own tropes that view her as more human and Deep---and in my opinion, most powerfully, that she is a bisexual woman and hopeless romantic that is most interested in ‘princely’/strong women types. but that’s a hc post for another day.

manuela is THE SUPREME ANIME GRANDE DAME and that anime recontextualization makes her a much better representation of older women than western canon grande dames, the end, send tweet.

#{ ooc: hc }#theres a seperate post here about how some drag that stemmed from vaudeville also stemmed from minstrelsy #stares at r/p/d/r. but we're not gonna TALK about that queens. this is a classic literature ONLY post lmfao #its so funny how so many grande dames are just like real ass people. gays will see a rich woman and go 'I STAN'#{ ch: starting now it's gonna be my turn ; taking bows for me | manuela }#{ hc: starting now it's gonna be my turn ; taking bows for me | manuela }

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artificialqueens · 6 years ago

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It could be a beginning (Rajila) - vicisonhando

A/N: So I have finally evolved from lurking around and reading all the fantastic fics on this side to writing my own. I hope you like it, feedback is always welcome and if you cheer loud enough, there might be more to come in the future.

Also a big shout out to the amazingly talented @formercongressman, who was kind enough to beta for me. This would probably be kind of a hot mess without you.

Raja glared at the half empty glass of wine in front of her. Even though the Pinot Grigio was one of the best she had had in a while, it was still not enough to lift her spirits. Her phone rested next to the glass with its dark screen facing upwards. She was tempted to reach for it again, knowing full well, that it had only been minutes since she checked it last. When the waiter across the room caught her attention, she narrowed her eyes and stared him down. Apparently he got the message since he didn’t not approach her to ask once again, if she really wouldn’t like to order something while waiting. She was sitting tucked in a booth for two in a corner away from most prying eyes in what was supposedly Manila’s favorite Italian restaurant in all of New York City. The place was elegant yet cozy, with white linen tablecloths and black and white photos of old Italian opera singers on the walls. Eros Ramazzotti was softly playing from some well-hidden speakers and the waiting staff had been nothing but polite and attentive so far. All in all, the restaurant certainly seemed like the perfect place for a first date.

There was, however, one small problem. Manila, her date, was nowhere to be found.

Raja hadn’t thought much of it when she had arrived a couple of minutes before seven and was let to an empty table. When 7:15 rolled around and Manila still hadn’t shown up, she started to get worried. She had shot the other woman a quick text asking if she had been held up, but had not gotten a reply so far. By now it was a quarter to 8 and Raja’s brain was jumping back and forth between worrying that something terrible had happened to Manila and being pissed that she had apparently been stood up. Right now the latter was what she was focusing on and she was fuming. How was this bitch going to walk into work on Monday and look her in the eye? Or maybe it was all a joke to Manila. A prank with her group of faithful Heathers designed to set her up and have a nice laugh on the expense of the new girl… That was probably it, Raja convinced herself. She could see them sitting in some bar right now, laughing at how stupid she was for falling for their joke. How readily she had agreed to the date when Manila had asked her.

Her thoughts faltered for a moment as she remembered Manila timidly knocking on her open office door on Monday morning earlier this week, wringing her hands and biting her lower lip nervously. Raja had found the behavior rather endearing and was about to ask her what was going on, when Manila looked up from the floor and said in one rushed breath: “Willyoumaybegooutonadatewithme?“

“What?“

“I’m sorry!“ she back tracked immediately “That was totally inappropriate. We work together and you are probably not even into women. Forget I even asked. I’m really sorry. I’ll just go now, before I embarrass myself even more.“ Manila’s voice was still rushed as she kept on rambling, but she was at least a bit more understandable to Raja now.

“Wait!“ Raja interjected. “Don‘t go, please. I… I would actually love to go out on date with you.“

A small smile appeared on Manila’s face at the words. “Really? Because you don’t have to. I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… I really liked working with you the past couple of weeks and would love to get to know you better. It doesn’t even have to mean anything. There is this really great Italian restaurant near my place. They have amazing pasta and their Pinot Grigio is to die for. I mean, you said you like white wine, didn’t you?”

“Girl,” Raja laughed. “Relax, I already said yes.”

Manila blushed and smiled, looking away from her, pushing an unruly lock of her black hair back behind her ear. On an impulse Raja got up from where she had been sat behind her desk and walked over to Manila. Thankfully she had closed the door behind her, so Raja didn’t have to worry about any of their coworkers seeing them, as she stepped into her personal space and gently placed a finger under Manila’s chin.

Carefully lifting her face, Raja waited until the smaller woman looked up into her eyes before she spoke. “I meant what I said. I would love to go out with you. And as for that Italian place, you had me at Pinot Grigio.”

Manila laughed, her usual confidence quickly returning. “So predictable.” she teased.

Raja gasped in mock offense. Before she had time to reconsider, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Manila’s cheek in a short and sweet kiss. Pulling back and straightening up, she smiled. “How about you text me the address and I’ll meet you there at 7 this Friday? Does that work for you?”

Manila nodded in a daze. “Uhm, Friday…. Yeah, Friday is great. I’ll make reservations and text you the details. I ehm, I gotta go now.”

Raja watched as her hand came up to her cheek, while she turned and left the office. She could still feel her own lips tingling from the brief contact and the smile wouldn’t leave her face for the rest of the day.

Looking back at the interaction now, Raja had a hard time believing that it had all been a set up. But here she was, sitting alone in one of New York’s fancier restaurants on a Friday night. She drained the rest of her wine in one go - it was the second glass already - and checked her phone again. Ten to eight and still not a message from Manila in sight. Putting her phone down she waved the closest waitresses over. She was done with the pitying stares of staff and patrons alike. Settling her check, she noticed that her earlier waiter had not dared to come back, sending in a colleague for back up. She could hardly blame him. The last time he had come by to ask if she wanted to order something, she had almost bitten his head off. She smiled at her new waitress apologetically and left a generous tip. It was hardly the staffs’ fault that she had gotten stood up.

Dejectedly she ordered an uber and made her way out of the restaurant. She had really been looking forward to this evening. From the first day working at Runway, Manila had caught Raja’s eye, even though they started out on slightly rocky ground. As the new Head of the Fashion Department Raja was introduced to the team during a morning meeting and desperately tried to remember as many of her new coworkers names as possible. But only the quirky Head of the Arts Department, with her white blonde streak in her otherwise jet black hair and her obvious penchant for bright yellow colored accessories, truly stood out to her. Once the introduction was over and Raja took her seat at the table, the woman next to Manila turned to her and faux whispered: “Good luck with that one. Seems like her last job didn’t even pay enough to afford a decent hairdresser.”

Manila chuckled under her breath and Raja was fuming. While she hadn’t exactly been thrilled when she started turning gray in her early thirties, she had come to love the silvery streaks peppered throughout her black hair and she prided herself on maintaining it in excellent condition. But it was her first day and everybody of importance was gathered in that meeting, so she bit her tongue to keep a sharp retort from slipping out.

Later on she learned that the woman’s name was Delta and that together with Manila and another woman from the Art Department called Carmen they were known in the office as the Heathers. There wasn’t a piece of gossip going around that they weren’t aware of and they had a habit of joking at the expenses of the people around them, often toeing the line between casual meanness and downright cruelty.

But even though Raja was apprehensive of the group, once she started working with Manila more closely, she learned that the other woman had not only a wicked sense of humor and an infectious laugh, but also a sweet and gentle side to her, that only the people she actually liked got to see. Something else Raja quickly came to admire was Manila’s dedication to her job. She was full of creative energy and didn’t mind putting in extra hours to finish a project. After walking in on Manila once, absorbed by a spree of photos in front of her and completely oblivious to her surroundings, Raja made it her mission to sneak up on her as often as she could. Manila had the habit of furrowing her brows and chewing on anything that was at hand when she was concentrating and it was one of the cutest things Raja had ever seen. Luckily Manila didn’t seem to mind being snuck up on. Instead her face lit up with a bright smile whenever she noticed Raja’s presence.

Just as Raja sat down in the uber her phone lit up. Disbelieving she stared at the photo of Manila smiling happily up at her from the lock screen. That woman had some nerve. By now it was past eight and she was tempted to simply ignore the call.

Maybe if Raja had pushed away her own insecurities and considered her past interactions with Manila rationally, she would have realized how unlikely it was, that the other woman would stand her up on any volition of her own. But instead she had let her own hurt fester and so, when she answered her phone, she all but growled: “This had better be good, bitch!“

The line was quiet for moment, then there was some rustling and a quiet “ouch… fuck“

“Manila?“ she questioned.

“Yeah, I’m here….“ the voice on the other end was quiet and slightly raspy, nothing like Manila’s usual cheerful tone and Raja went from pissed beyond belief to worried in an instant.

“Are you okay?“

“No, I mean yes, I mean not really…. I am in the ER right now. I got hit by a car on my…“

“Where exactly are you? I’m coming to see you right now.” Raja interrupted her.

“What? No, you really don’t have to do that. I already ruined your night by not showing up for dinner. I don’t want to make it even worse by dragging you to some stupid ER. I just, I mean, uhm, I’m sorry for not calling earlier. I didn’t get my purse back until now and I’m just lucky my phone still works.”

Raja listened to Manila talk, smiling despite herself. If the other woman could still talk a mile a minute, chances were she wasn’t too badly hurt. Still, she had no intention of going home without having seen that Manila was safe with her own eyes. So the next time she stopped to take a breath Raja quickly interjected: “Listen, girl, you better tell me where you are right now. Because I’m coming to see you, even if I have to check every fucking ER in the whole of New York City.”

“You would really do that?”

“Bitch, try me.”

Raja could almost see the smile in Manila’s voice when she answered: “I’m at the Metropolitan hospital.” There was some noise in the background and then she said, “I have to go now. The doctor is here to check on my leg.”

“Okay, hang in there. I’ll be with you in no time.”

Raja ended the call and sank back into her seat with a sigh, her body releasing the tension she hadn’t even noticed she was holding in. Manila had not stood her up. It had all just been in her head. Suddenly Raja realized that Manila hadn’t even told her what exactly had happened or how badly she was injured. Consciously drawing in a deep breath to stop her mind from coming up with all kind of horrible scenarios she decided to focus on the task at hand. Checking her location on her phone she saw that the Metropolitan Hospital was only a couple of blocks away. She quickly told her driver the new direction and settled into her seat, trying to keep thoughts of Manila with a maimed arm or without the use of her legs out of her mind.

By the time she arrived at the hospital Raja felt slightly nauseous with worry. She made her way inside and walked up to the front desk with determination. She mentally prepared herself to tear the woman in front of her a new one should she try to deny her access to Manila. But to her surprise the nurse gave up the information of her whereabouts without a fight.

When Raja finally opened the door to Manila’s room, her heart almost stopped. Manila looked more disheveled and vulnerable than Raja had ever seen her. The first thing she noticed was the bright yellow dress. It was partly covered by a hospital duvet, but Raja could still tell that it was the kind of garment only Manila could pull of. If the situation wasn’t so grim, she would have laughed. Instead she frowned at the tears and dirt stains she could make out in several places. Next her eyes drifted to the cast on her right leg which is propped up in sling. Finally she took in Manila’s wild hair and smudged make up. Her eyes were closed and as Raja drew closer, she was able to make out tear stains and several cuts on her cheeks. Careful, as to not disturb the sleeping woman, Raja pulled a chair up to the bed. But as she sat down Manila opened her eyes and blinked slowly.

“Hey” Raja’s voice was soft as she spoke.

“You… you actually came.” Manila stared at her in disbelief.

“Of course I did, bitch. I told you I would. How are you?”

“Just peachy. Apart from the broken leg and the sprained rip and my body aching all over that is.”

“Sorry, that was a stupid question. Is there anything I can do?”

Manila shook her head and immediately winced in pain. “Not really. The painkillers are supposed to kick in soon. I’m sure I’ll be better then.”

“Okay.” Raja still looked unconvinced. She hated seeing Manila like this. She looked so small in the hospital bed. The yellow of her dress, that would normally serve to accentuate her playful personality, paired with the harsh fluorescent lightning of the room made her skin look sickeningly pale. A paleness that only set off the angry bruises that had begun to form around her eye and on her chest near the right clavicle.

“Actually,” Manila interrupted her thoughts, “There is something you could do. Can you grab me another pillow to help prop me up a bit more and maybe get me some water?”

Raja almost jumped out of her chair, relieved to have something to do beside staring at Manila’s injuries. She quickly made her way to the thankfully empty second bed in the room and grabbed the pillow on it. But once she was back at Manila’s side she was lost. How was she supposed to get the pillow behind her without hurting her anymore?

Sensing Raja’s insecurity Manila spoke up: “I can’t really sit up by myself. I tried earlier and it hurt like bitch. But my arms are mostly okay. So maybe if you come a bit closer, I can put them around your neck and you can pull me up and put the pillow behind me…” she trailed of.

“I don’t know. Are you sure it is a good idea for you to sit up if it hurts so much?” Under normal circumstances Raja would have jumped at the chance of having Manila’s hands on her body, but right now she was more worried about aggravating her injuries.

“It’s fine,” the younger woman assured her. “The nurse said I could sit up if I felt like it. She told me to ask for help if I needed any. But I’d much rather have you help me…” she looked away shyly at her admission.

Raja knew she had lost that battle then and there. How was she supposed to say no to this? So she stepped right next to the bed, put the pillow in her left hand and leaned forward over Manila. “Well, let’s give it a try then.”

Manila beamed up at her and wrapped her hands behind Raja’s neck. Her hands were a bit cold and Raja shivered when they graced the hair on the back of her neck. For a moment she imagined this is another situation. Maybe the end of an actual date and Manila’s arms would wrap around her to draw her closer. She would lean in, their faces only inches apart… Suddenly Manila cleared her throat and Raja realized she had been starring. She was impossibly grateful for her dark complexion, which made it far less likely that Manila detected the blush she was able to feel rising to her cheeks or so she hoped. Manila had interlaced her fingers and her hands rested right at the connection between Raja’s neck and her shoulders. Raja sneaked her right hand underneath Manila’s arm onto her shoulder blade.

“Ready?” she asked. When Manila nodded she slowly started to straighten up, trying to give her as much support with her right hand as she could. She noticed Manila’s face straining in pain, but before she was able to stop, Manila motioned for her to keep going. So she lifted her up a bit more and then managed to weasel the pillow between Manila’s back and the bed. Carefully she lowered Manila back down until she was comfortably resting against the pillow. It was an obvious improvement to before, since now she was almost sitting upright.

But instead of letting go of Raja it felt like Manila was actually tightening her grip. She looked up into Raja’s eyes, a small smile playing around her lips. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Like I could leave you on your on in the hospital.” Raja frowned as she watched Manila’s facial expression change. Her eyes shifted towards Raja’s lips and she worried her lower lip slightly between her teeth. Suddenly her eyes shot back up to Raja’s. Her pupils were blown and there was a slight blush on her cheeks. Raja wasn’t sure if she imagined the slight tuck of Manila’s hands at the back of her neck or if it was really there, but she couldn’t help herself.

She leaned in, closing the distance between them and stopping a mere inch away from Manila’s face. She felt the other woman’s warm breath on her face. Suddenly afraid she had misread the whole situation, she was about to pull back, when Manila closed the remaining distance between them. The first brush of lips was soft, almost tentative. Manila’s lips were chapped on Raja’s and against her usual instincts she tried to keep the contact gentle, afraid to cause the other woman anymore hurt or even discomfort. But Manila was having none of it. She wrapped her arms closer around Raja, one of her hands finding its way into Rajas salt and pepper hair tugging and pulling and truly messing up the up-do Raja had spent ages on to make it look effortlessly messy in the first place. Feeling Manila’s lips insistently against her own, her tongue licking softly against her upper lip, Raja finally gave in and let her take the lead. She opened her mouth slightly and Manila welcomed the opportunity to explore. Raja sighed into the kiss, one hand coming up to cradle Manila’s face gently. She wanted to pull her close and push her back into the bed at the same time, wanted to kiss and touch her all over while never breaking the connection between their lips at the same time.

Knowing that she couldn’t give into her desperate need right now, she pulled back reluctantly. Manila let out a needy whimper and tried to chase Raja’s lips with her own. Her eyes opened and her pupils appeared almost black. It took all of Raja’s will power to keep from moving back in. Only the thought of hurting Manila in her already fragile state gave her the strength to fully disentangle herself from their embrace.

Instead she sat down on the edge of the bed. The room was quiet and Raja was acutely aware of her heart beating furiously in her chest, almost convinced Manila was able to hear it. Uncharacteristically unsure of what to do next she watched Manila, who met her gaze but didn’t speak.

The silence started to become unbearable and Raja decided to break it with a soft “So…”

“I–” Manila began at the same time. They stopped and grinned at each other. “You go first.”

“No, you go first.” Raja refused.

But Manila shook her head and repeated, “No, you go first.”

And just like that it turned in a game of “No, you,” both of them trying desperately to keep a straight face, until Raja couldn’t help herself anymore. She let out a deep belly laugh. Manila was quick to join her and she was glad that they are back to their usual relaxed if slightly silly dynamic. However the relief was short lived, because almost as soon as Manila started to laugh she stopped again, clutching her side and letting out a string of curse words that Raja had never heard her use before. Worriedly, she tried to figure out what she could do to help.

She wondered if she should call a nurse, when she noticed that Manila had stopped swearing and was watching her instead. She lifted her hand from where she had been clutching her side and grabbed Raja’s, interlacing their fingers. “Hey, don’t look so terrified, Raj. I’m okay. Laughing just isn’t the best idea at the moment, I guess.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, the doctor said I was lucky. Apparently it could have been way worse. I mean my leg is obviously broken, and my ribs hurt like hell when I move the wrong way, or laugh apparently. But other than that, I’m mostly okay. They checked me for internal bleeding and while the doctor wants to keep me overnight to be on the safe side, she said it doesn’t look like I have a concussion.” While talking, Manila kept gently rubbing her thumb over the back of Raja’s hand.

Taking in the cuts and bruises on her face and chest, Raja wasn’t able to shake the feeling that she was downplaying her injuries to sooth her worries. And while it wasn’t quite working – Raja thought she probably wouldn’t stop worrying until Manila was up and about again – she decided to let her get away with it for now though and focused on something else. “So what exactly happened to you? You never said how you got here in the first place.”

“Well, after I got ready for tonight, I realized that for once in my life I was early, like really early. So I figured I could walk to the restaurant and maybe pick up some flowers on the way.” Manila blushed at that and it was Raja’s turn to run her thumb over Manila’s hand and smile reassuringly. “It’s really not that far from my place and I was certain I would get there with more than enough time to spare. So I was just crossing the street to get to the flower shop around the corner from my apartment and then everything is a blur. I mean, I think the traffic light was actually green when I crossed and I definitely looked left and right, but maybe I was wrong or maybe the driver didn’t see me. Well, obviously they didn’t see me. And then they must have hit me. I don’t really remember that part, or anything really up until waking up in the ambulance on my way here…”

Raja’s heart constricted in fear just thinking about how badly things could have turned out. Manila really had been lucky. Unsure of how to voice her thoughts, she decided to lighten the mood. “Good thing our work pays for decent health insurance, or this could have easily become the most expensive date of your life.”

But Manila didn’t laugh. She looked at Raja and her eyes were earnest. “I’m really, really sorry for standing you up. I tried to get the paramedics to give me my phone, but they wouldn’t listen. I felt so bad thinking that you were sitting at the restaurant waiting for me, wondering where I was.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Raja squeezed Manila’s hand softly and brought her free hand up to her face stroking her cheek, mindful of the cuts there. “Please, Nila, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m just glad you are okay.” Then, after a moment she added: “But for our next date I’m definitely picking you up at home. Doesn’t matter how close you live to the restaurant.”

“There is going to be a next date?” Manila’s face broke into a hopeful smile.

“You really gotta ask?”

And before Manila could answer Raja leaned forward again and sealed their lips in another soft kiss.

#rpdr fanfiction #manila luzon #raja gemini #rajila #lesbian au #hurt/comfort #fluff #vicisonhando #concrit welcome #submission

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electricslytherindog · 6 years ago

Note

I'm gonna pop on over here, if you don't mind! From the shipping ask list I made, do you think you could do 5, 12, and 16? :> And thank you for making the content you do, the memes you make often put a smile on my face.

I ended this, god help me Thanks, I'm glad, that I have sense of humour!

Beware, there's long and boring exposition!

5. Do you think any of the Hogwarts staff ship them or think they’re cute together?

First of all, Luna and Jae date for a year before Penny understand, that they are dating and this is not a joke from first year slytherins and griffindors, which was suspected about their relationship ("god dammit, Andre, we didn't get it! Even this first-year understand it, but we're not, Andre! What kind of friends we are?") because of Luna and Jae's behavior.

Second of all, most people didn't believe, that they're had romantic relationships even after they married and have too kids, because "you two like best friends, we don't believe you". It's happen, because Luna was raised by one military engineer, opera singer and one highly intelligent teen, and no one of them was involved into normal romantic relationship ("You don't even have a first date, Jae!" "Do you know, that I married Luna five years ago?"), so Luna haven't priority in showing feelings on public.

Only time, when someone saw their feelings more openly, was on 7th year, when Jae almost killed R after he attack Luna.

12. What are their favorite ways to be physically affectionate?

Like I said, public affection isn't their type, but sometimes Luna leans on Jae in front of people or puts her elbows on his shoulders.

In private situation, both become more affectionate ("Once more Merula touch my hair with her wand, I'll kill her" "You so much want to meet her parents, but afraid to meet my mother?"). Jae loves Luna hair, specially black hair tips ("Do you make them black because of me?" "No, it's because my brother have a black hair, and his hair a little brighter, than yours, so this beautiful black tips have no connection with your hair color"). Luna is a very affectionate person, she always need hug from someone really close, just to know, that to know, that he is alive.

16. How do they comfort each other when they have bad days?

Luna has three really bad days in her childhood: her uncle's death, her father's death and her brother's missing, what make her think, that her family is cursed and every man around her can die, what also can cause panic attacks, especially during the dark Lord's revival. At first Jae didn't know, how to calm down Luna, but he asked Jacob's advice, because another one person, who know, how to calm down his isn't stable girlfriend, Luna's and Jacob's guardian, their godfather Amir, died before this moment. According to Jacob, only way calm down his sister (without the ability to give medications) that's to convince her that her father will be home soon, then she'll be back to normal in an hour or two.

If Luna haven't this attack, she calm down very easy even without someone helps.

If Jae have a bad day, that's mean, that's he need to talk with somebody, Luna is sensitive enough to feel this situation, mostly because of Jacob's influence.

#harry potter #hogwarts #hphm #hp #hogwarts houses #hogwarts mystery #slytherin #jam city #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #hphm mc #hogwarts mc #jacob sibling #slytherin!mc #mc x jae kim #jae x mc #jae kim #luna goldstein

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our-smooty · 6 years ago

Text

Take Me to Church Chapter 13: Date

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: Car Accidents Angst Hurt/Comfort Drugs/Alcohol Implied/Referenced Suicide SuicideHealing Everything Hurts

Summary: The band is back together, but things are… weird to say the least. But when a crisis arises, can they pull it all together and be a family again?

Link to other Chapters on my Blog!

The next two days passed much the same as the one after the day at the hospital. 2D and Murdoc practised music, hung out, and generally goofed off together. Sometimes they fucked, but mostly they just enjoyed each other's company. Russel was around, but he seemed to be going out more and the other two were too busy with each other to question it.

Friday morning, three days after the hospital visit, they were all crowded around the breakfast table debating which of their albums would win in a fight when Russel’s phone rang. Murdoc paused mid-laugh to glance at it and saw the caller was Dr. Cavenaw. Russel saw as well and quickly answered.

“Russel Hobbs speakin’. Yes. Yes thank you. I understand. Yes, OK, see you then.” As quick as the conversation began it ended, and Russel sighed.

“Who was that Russ?” 2D asked with his mouth full of the pancakes they’d made. Murdoc didn’t say anything but he waited with bated breath, the good morning he’d been having taking a sharp downward spike.

“That was Noodle’s doctor. She said that they started the process of wakin’ her up yesterday and she’s been showin’ some good signs. She also said we could come back tomorrow and try to help by takin’ to her and stuff, get her to wake up on her own,” he explained. 2D jumped out of his chair and pumped a fist in the air. Murdoc felt sick.

“Muds did you hear that? Noodles gonna wake up soon! We can go see here again!” Murdoc watched him jump around. Satan, what he wouldn’t give to just feel happiness at the idea of Noodle waking up. Because he was happy, he was fucking ecstatic that his baby girl was going to wake up and get back to normal but the looming dread of what might happen after hung over him like a noose.

“Calm down D, before you go and hurt yourself,” Russel warned. Murdoc stood and walked to the fridge, grabbing two bears and tossing one to the singer. The younger barely caught it, and Russel raised an eyebrow.

“Guys its ten in the morning.”

“It’s celebratory,” Murdoc snapped, draining half the can in one go. 2D cracked his open and took a sip as Russel shrugged.

“Right well, you two have fun with that.” Russel cleared his plate and put it in the sink, heading off to his room. Murdoc watched him go as he opened another beer.

“Isn’t it great Murdoc, Noodles gonna be awake soon,” 2D sighed happily, spinning in circles in the middle of the kitchen. He rounded on Murdoc with a big smile, which slowly faded as he saw the look on the bassist’s face. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Yeah mate, I am. I promise it’s jus’...” he trailed off with a shrug. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why couldn’t he just be happy that Noodle was alive and going to be ok? For some reason, his brain wouldn’t allow him to just be happy instead of worrying about what might happen.

“You’re still worried she’s gonna hate you.” 2D hit the nail on the head and Murdoc flinched. There was no doubt in his mind the guitarist would want nothing to do with him once she was up and kicking again. Then he’d be back to having nothing; no band, no fame, and certainly no family.

“I’ve fucked up too many timed Stu, I don’t see how she could forgive me.” It’d be easier to bite the bullet and get it over with, leave before she could tell him to. It would hurt less.

“I’ve forgiven you, haven’t I?” The singer asked and Murdoc paused.

“Actually, you’ve never said you have,” he said slowly. Now it was 2D’s turn to pause for a second. He seemed to be thinking rather hard because he was doing that little thing with his tongue, the one where he stuck it in and out between his missing teeth. Murdoc had found it annoying, but now it was almost endearing.

He must have come to a conclusion because he nodded his head and strode towards the Satanist with a look of determination. Coming to stand directly in front of Murdoc 2D placed his hands on the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Murdoc, I forgive you,” he said, slowly and clearly, looking right into the bassist's eyes. A brief silence, a blink from the bassist, and suddenly Murdoc found himself in a crushing embrace. He wasn’t sure if he pulled Stu in, or if Stu pulled him in, but it didn’t really matter. All that mattered what the sense of relief he felt at those three words, words that until this morning he didn’t even really think he needed to hear.

“I forgive you Muds, but I dunno if I’m gonna be able to forgive you if you crush the life outta me,” 2D joked. Murdoc barked a laugh and let him go, a little embarrassed but too high on endorphins to care.

“Sorry, mate, sorry,” he chuckled as he let go, giving 2D’s arm a friendly pat. He felt better, lighter, somehow. Like maybe he should be celebrating.

They were still quite close together, so it wasn’t hard for Murdoc to lean in and plant a kiss on Stuart's lips. The singer kissed back willingly, openly. There was a moment, when their tongues touched briefly, where Murdoc thought about deepening the kiss, pushing 2D against the counter, and letting the taller man take him right there in the kitchen. He thought about how good it would feel, to ride this wave of relief and happiness right into something more carnal.

And he didn’t.

Instead, he pulled back, finished the kiss with a breathy laugh and let the singer go. 2D seemed reluctant but stepped back and Murdoc was grateful. If the singer had kept going, or been insistent he wasn’t sure if he had the willpower to keep thing PG.

“Heh, you’re a pretty aggressive hugger, aren’t you Muds?” 2D teased, but Murdoc was in too much of a good mood to snap back. Instead, he chuckled and sipped the beer he’d managed to hold on to during their moment. “So what are your plans for today?”

“The same as the last couple days?” he asked, feeling like 2D was going somewhere with his questions. His assumption turned out to be correct when 2D shook his head and scolded him.

“Murdoc we can’t jus’ keep doin’ the same thing every day. I don’t think we’ve been outside since Monday!” The bassist didn't really see the problem with that but gestured for Stu to continue.

“So I was thinkin’ we could go out an’ do some shoppin’? Maybe get a few gifts for Noodle to make her room feel homier.” Despite still feeling nervous about seeing Noodle tomorrow, Murdoc couldn’t help but agree.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Go ask Russ if he wants to come while I get ready.” 2D scampered out of the kitchen excitedly as Murdoc watched on. Sometimes he swore the other was more a child than a 40-year-old man.

Russel declined the offer to go out, which 2D thought was weird since going out had been all the drummer had done in the last week. He tried to convince him, but Russel had just shaken his head with a funny smirk.

“Nah, you and Murdoc go have fun together,” was all he had said before shooing 2D out of his room. The singer was a little disappointed but figured Russ had his own plans so he got himself ready to meet Murdoc downstairs.

Shuffling into the front hall, 2D picked out a pair of chucks and sat on the steps. When he’d asked Murdoc to go out he hadn’t really had a plan. As much as he enjoyed working on music and shagging, he didn’t want to spend another day cooped up in the house. Getting gifts for Noodle was just an excuse to get out and about. Besides, it would be good for Murdoc to get some fresh air. The bassist had been in better spirits over the last few days but 2D was still keeping an eye on him.

He was still worried that the other might do something he’d regret. At times like then, when they were separated, the fear he’d felt up on the roof would come back and he’d have to force himself not to go barreling through the house looking for his mate. They hadn’t talked about any of that since Monday, mostly because 2D didn’t know what to say.

“Alright, D?” Murdoc asked, stomping down the stairs in his Cuban heels and startling the singer. He was quite bundled up, with a sweater, scarf, and leather gloves. 2D looked down at his own t-shirt and jeans. “You’re gonna want to grab a jacket, mate.”

“Is it cold out?” he asked, trying to remember what the weather had been like the last time they went outside. A side effect of the multiple brain injuries was that his memory was a bit shit.

“D it’s the end of September, of course it’s cold. Go get a jacket,” Murdoc sighed. “I'll go start the car.”

After fighting through the hall closet and wrestling his fall jacket from the grips of a particularly feisty umbrella stand 2D walked outside and got in the passenger seat. Murdoc hadn’t been drinking as much recently, so he wasn’t too worried about the bassist driving them around.

“So, where to then?” Murdoc asked as he sat down. 2D thought for a few minutes before an idea hit him.

“Why don’t we head downtown and check out the music shops, see if we can find any cool old records?” When he was younger he loved browsing through the shops with his mates looking for interesting records.

“Sounds good mate,” Murdoc agreed and they were on their way. They weren’t too far from the downtown core, they probably could have taken the train instead but there was always the chance of being recognized out in public and 2D didn’t really want to risk it. Not with all the press about Noodle.

When they got downtown they picked out a parking space and wandered towards the shops. Murdoc was chattering on about something on one of his soap operas, so 2D wasn’t paying attention other than the hum or nod occasionally. It was a lot busier than he’d expected, with people crowding the storefronts and pushing along the walkways.

“So then he says that she was the one who bought the gun--Stu can you please try to keep up?” Murdoc griped. He didn’t seem to be having trouble moving through the crowds despite being almost a head shorter.

“I’m tryin’ Muds but people keep pushin’ me!” he whimpered as another person shouldered him. Murdoc shot him a frustrated look, then held out his hand.

“Come on, you git,” he huffed. 2D took his gloved hand and let Muroc lead him through the crowds. People moved out of the way for Murdoc, probably because he was so cranky looking, and 2D had a much easier time getting along with Murdoc’s hand in his.

They stopped at a couple of the more popular and mainstream music stores along the way, having a good laugh when they came across a poster of Gorillaz for sale in one. 2D even convinced Murdoc to take a selfie with the selection of Gorillaz albums and CDs under the pretence that Noodle would enjoy it. He knew, secretly, that Murdoc got a kick out of seeing all the Gorillaz stuff on sale.

Eventually, they got to a quieter part of downtown off the beaten track, though Stu kept a tight grip on Murdoc just the same. The shops down that end had more to the stuff they wanted to look through and they spent a good amount of time combing through the piles and piles of records comparing finds.

“I don’t think we have this one, do we Muds?” 2D asked, holding up a copy of A Night at the Opera. Murdoc scoffed.

“It’s Queen, D. Of course we have that one.” 2D giggled and put the album aside. Murdoc had an absolutely astonishing amount of records buried away in his room that the band had collected over the years.

“M’glad you can remember Muds. My brain’s like a siv,” he lamented, continuing to dig through the piles. Occasionally he would hold up an album for Murdoc’s consideration, but they mostly explored in silence. At one point Murdoc disappeared for a little and that now-familiar feeling returned, but 2D found him skulking around the poster and memorabilia section. They accumulated a good pile of music after and eventually left the shops.

“D’you want to get somethin’ to eat Murdoc?” 2D asked as they walked back down the street. The bassist had also been a lot better about eating as well, but Stu was getting tired of pizza and leftovers.

“If you want, I don’t care,” he answered, which wasn’t the answer 2D was looking for but it was good enough. He looked around the street for somewhere interesting and spotted a little Mexican place that looked quite cozy.

“Oh! Let’s go there!” he exclaimed excitedly and Murdoc shrugged. 2D grasped the bassist hand again and led him across the street and into the little restaurant. Inside was warm and colourful and surprisingly empty.

“Table for two please!” he said to the waitress with a big smile. She led them to a booth and left them with menus.

“Muds, these menus are in Spanish. I dunno Spanish!” he fretted. Murdoc rolled his eyes and pointed to the main section.

“Pick somethin’ here that has a picture you like an’ I’ll tell you what it is,” he instructed, looking over the menu himself.

“You can speak Spanish?” 2D gaped, eyes wide. Murdoc nodded.

“Picked it up in prison. S’not so hard after you’ve got the basics. Or if you’ve got a big guy named Lenny shouting it at you every day.” 2D stared in awe for a moment, partially at how casual Murdoc was being but also because he’d had no idea. How do you live with someone all that time and not know they can speak another language. He eventually pulled himself away from watching Murdoc read the options and looked down.

“What about this?” he asked pointing to something completely random on the page. Murdoc looked over, standing in his seat a little to see over the table. HIs hair fell into his face and 2D got distracted by the way it made his deep-set eyes even more noticeable.

“Pollo Picado, that’s chicken with peppers and tomato sauce. Sounds good,” 2D barely heard a word the Satanist said, too busy admiring the way Murdoc’s lips curled around the foreign language.

“W-what are you gonna have?” 2D stuttered, hiding his flush behind a glass of water.

“The carnitas sounds good.” 2D shivered.

“Good, good.” They ordered when the waitress came back, or rather Murdoc ordered because 2D couldn’t pronounce the food names despite hearing Murdoc say them before.

“So, did you find anythin’ cool?” 2D asked once they were alone again. Murdoc pulled his bags up from the floor and rifled through them for a bit before sighing.

“Not really, didn’t see any albums that weren’t shit or that we don’t already have. I uh, I did find these though. Thought you might like them.” He pulled out a smaller bag and handed it over to the singer, face just the slightest bit red. 2D peaked inside the bag warily--you could never tell what Murdoc might find--and smiled.

Inside were four keychains, each one moulded to look like a member of Gorillaz. They were all in the phase one style, little Noodle with her helmet, Russ with that yellow hat from the Clint Eastwood video, Murdoc with his base, and 2D signing into a little model microphone. He held them gently, turning each over in his hands.

“Stupid I know, I shouldn’t of--” 2D shushed him and pulled out his keys, clipping the 2D one to them.

“They’re adorable Muds! I’m gonna call this lil’ guy Tiny 2D!” He jangled the keys around excitedly. Murdoc still looked embarrassed but held his hand out for the other three keychains, clipping the Murdoc to his own keys.

“I guess this is Mini Murdoc then?” he asked, holding the keychain up to eye level. “I think they made me too short.”

“I think it looks jus’ right,” 2D ventured. Murdoc scowled and put the keys down as their food. Starving from all the walking around 2D dug in immediately. Murdoc poked at his with an uneasy look before 2D raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not what you wanted?” Murdoc looked up at him, then back at the food.

“No, carnitas is one of my favourites, but…” he loaded one of the soft taco shells with meat and toppings, “I haven’t really had much of an appetite recently.”

“I’ve noticed,” 2D garbled through a mouthful of chicken and peppers. He watched Murdoc take a bite and felt a little better. Not wanting this to go like the diner, where he’d upset Murdoc so much he didn’t eat anything, 2D decided to focus on his own meal until the other was done.

They finished and paid, wandering back out onto the street. “Other than the keychains we didn’t buy anything for Noodle, did we?” 2D asked as they walked.

“No, but we could stop and get her some flowers or somethin’. Isn’t that what people bring to hospitals?” Murdoc said, leading them back towards the car. “I think there was a florist near where we parked.”

2D linked their hands again and allowed the bassist to lead the way. “Gosh, I’m glad I brought you Muds, you’re a lot smarter about this stuff than I am.”

There wasn’t much of a crowd at the florist so they were able to walk in and check out the flowers right away. 2D pulled them from bouquets to arrangements, oohing and ahhing the entire time. He’d never had much of a green thumb--in fact, he managed to kill an air plant once--so he didn’t really know what to get. Murdoc looked board.

“Jeeze Murdoc, I didn’t know there were so many different types of flowers in the whole world!” he said happily.

“Just pick something already Faceache, it doesn’t matter what,” Murdoc said, pointing to some potted plants. “Those look fine and they won’t die in a couple of days.”

“Good idea, let’s get one of those then,” Stu agreed picking up a little pot filled with white and pink clusters of flowers. Didn’t different flowers have different meanings? He wondered what those ones meant.

Murdoc was getting fidgety, so they checked out quickly and headed back to the car. 2D cradled the little potted plant in his hands the whole way, protecting it from the cold and wind. They each hopped into their seats hastily, the setting sun bringing colder temperatures.

“Bloody hell it’s freezin’, it wasn’t this fuckin’ cold the other day!” Murdoc groused as he navigated the Sunday afternoon traffic. The heating in the car was slow to warm up and 2D fretted over the plant.

“Can’t you drive faster? The florist said if the flowers get too cold they’ll die,” he wailed, hugging the pot to his chest.

“They’re goin’ to die if you crush them to death D,” Murdoc said, eyeing the poor plant. “I’m drivin’ as fast as I can.” 2D continued to fuss over the plant until they pulled into the driveway, where he sprinted inside.

“Oi! You can’t leave me with all the bags you sod,” Murdoc shouted, but 2D ignored him and continued inside. He rushed through into the kitchen to give the flower a drink of water, hoping that would be enough to prevent it from dying. He paused a moment to pet the dainty flowers before the slamming of the front door startled him.

“Oh it’s fiiiiiine, jus’ leave ol’Murdoc with all the bags.” 2D could hear Murdoc complaining from the foyer. Guiltily he walked back to the front hall to help.

“Sorry Muds, I was jus’ so worried about the flowers,” Stu apologized as he took some of the bags Murdoc was holding.

“Whatever, Faceache,” Murdoc grumbled, but he didn’t sound too put-out.

2D shuffled his feet a little as he watched Murdoc stretch out the kinks in his arms and back from dragging the bags inside. He could see the muscle of Murdoc’s back and shoulders twisting and bunching under his shirt and it made his face heat up just a bit.

“I-I had a good time today, Muds,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

Murdoc turned to the singer and paused. 2D stared down at his shoes feeling oddly embarrassed. “Yeah, today wasn’t so awful.”

2D had been around Murdoc long enough to know what the bassist meant. The urge to hug the shorter man was strong, and 2D decided to take his chances and step into Murdoc’s space, arms open. He half expected Murdoc to push him away, but was pleasantly surprised when the other man allowed him to wrap him up in a hug. Murdoc smelled like shampoo and cigarettes and sweat. 2D nuzzled into his hair slightly, tightening his hold and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Murdoc’s arms wrap around his middle loosely, returning the hug. They haven't hugged like this in well, ever. He could feel the bassist sigh against his collar as 2D began to sway them side to side gently, their hug morphing into something closer to an embrace.

Feeling bold, 2D decided to try something he’d been thinking about for a while. Slowly removing one of his hands from Murdoc’s back he brought it up to his hair and gently ran his fingers through. The reaction was immediate. Murdoc sagged with a sigh, tightening his arms around Stu’s waist. 2D’s confidence surged and he continued to pet and ruffle the bassist hair as much as he wanted. It was softer than he expected--Murdoc wasn’t a stickler for good hygiene normally--and 2D wondered at the feeling between his fingers.

“Mmmmm,” Murdoc moaned. 2D continued to rub at that particular spot and he could feel the other man relaxing in his hold. He could feel the potential for sex vibrating between them, Murdoc was probably in the right headspace to agree to almost anything 2D wanted. But he didn’t really want to, for the moment he was enjoying making the other man feel good. Making Murdoc feel good made 2D feel good, so why not indulge a little?

Eventually, they separated when 2D realized they’d been standing in the foyer for a significant amount of time. He smiled down at Murdoc, who was still standing quite close.

“Thanks for the hug, Muds,” he said and the older man smiled.

“Don’t mention it, you can pay me back by hauling all those bags upstairs,” Murdoc said, winking. 2D groaned but didn’t make too much of a fuss.

“I guess it’s only fair,” he admitted, leaning down to grab a couple bags. Unlike Murdoc he wasn’t stupid enough to try and carry all of them at once. Murdoc nodded and left the front hall, probably to go get a drink, and 2D got to work on moving all the bags. Even after when he was done, tired, sweaty, and a little sore, he still thought today had been a really good day.

#tw suicide #tw violence #tw car accident #tw DRUGS AND ALCOHOL #tw hospital #takemetochurchfic #niccalpot

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