#guys please cast your vote i need to know the truth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

handsomelyhiddleston · 3 years

Text

Sticky Notes - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

It all started on the set of Ragnarok. They hadn’t even started filming yet. Table reads, choreography, costume fittings, set development…The cast, crew, and even Taika started finding little notes.

Some were specifically to certain people…

“Your laugh is contagious. Thank you for making this set so down to earth and inviting.” You slipped that into Taika’s (the director’s) fanny pack when he left it on his director’s chair.

“I know how hard you’ve been working on your fight choreography, and I just wanted to let you know you absolutely killed it today!” You left that stuck to Tessa’s (Valkyrie’s) water bottle.

Some you posted for everyone, like “I know that you all put such amazing effort and time into bringing this movie to life and I just want you all to know that it doesn’t go unnoticed.” That note was posted above a table full of ‘easy to grab’ snacks you laid out such as protein bars, fruit snacks, pretzels, and dried fruit.

This continued well into filming. Everyone had tried to figure out who was leaving these little daily encouragements. It got to the point that Taika started calling you Casper, as in “Casper the Friendly Ghost.” Every day at the start of filming he would say. “Come on guys. Let’s make Casper proud.”

Everyone had a theory. Most thought that it was actually Taika just trying to keep morale up. Taika accused Tom but took it back after some comment about the notes not sounding very British.

Your job on set was to cast extras. While you were present daily, you honestly only had to meet with Taika once or twice a day to make sure the next day’s cast extras were ready. You two fell into an easy rhythm working together and he started asking for your opinion on some other aspects of the set. One late afternoon, after an incredibly chaotic day of filming, Taika decided that he was going to scrap the entire scene and start it over.

He pulled out his phone and sent a text to you, Tom, and Chris. “Today can suck it. I’ve just watched the dailies, and something just isn’t right about that scene. Meet at mine in 30 so we can get ahead of it.” A few seconds later he added, “And for the love of God, someone bring some tequila.”

You laughed at his text, jogging to the trailer you shared with the other casting director. You changed into a pair of shorts and a baggy t-shirt and grabbed your keys and wallet. You jumped in your car so you could make a quick trip to the Starbucks down the street since it appeared it was going to be a long night.

“One Venti iced coffee with milk and 1 sugar, one Grande Americano hot with cream and 2 sugars, one Venti hot latte with vanilla, and one Venti hot water with two earl gray tea bags and four sugars on the side. Can I also get one of the small kid’s milk boxes?” You heard the barista repeat your order back and pulled forward and paid.

When you got to Taika’s trailer, Tom and Chris were already there.

“Oh, bless you” Taika thanked you, taking the Latte from you.

“You’re the best” Chris said, taking the lid off of the Americano so it would cool off a bit.

“Tom, I grabbed you tea.” You handed him the hot water and two tea bags, setting the sugars and milk next to him so he could make it to his liking.

“You’re too kind” Tom graciously took the hot water from you, noting that you grabbed his favorite kind of tea.

In Taika’s trailer there was a table with a bench on each side. Chris and Tom were sat on one side, leaving a space for you to sit next to Taika.

“Anyone grab the tequila?” you laughed, dropping your keys and wallet on Taika’s counter and sitting at the table with your iced coffee.

Taika grabbed the bottle and sat it down in front of you. “You’re already two swigs behind, love.”

“Bullshit” you laughed. “Prove it. Where are the shot glasses?”

“I said swigs, not shots” Taika smirked. “We don’t have shot glasses.”

“Look at how much is missing from that bottle. I just bought it.” Hemsworth backed Taika up.

You looked at Tom, knowing he would be honest with you.

“Hey, you trust Tom more than me?” Taika pretended to be offended.

“Tom always looks out for everybody. I don’t think he’d let me get two shots drunker than you fools.” You teased Taika, poking his side and sticking your tongue out at him.

“Watch” Taika said, putting his arm around your shoulders and looking towards Tom. “How many swigs did we all take?”

Tom laughed, “I’m sorry darling, but he’s telling you the truth.”

“Fine, fine.” You opened the bottle and took three swigs, handing it to Taika. “Catch up, then.”

Tom started thinking about the compliment you had given him as he took his third swig of Tequila. He felt flattered that you felt that way, but it also reminded him of one of the notes he had found stuck to his trailer door.

“Okay, we need to re-block this whole scene. It just did not translate from script to screen…” The four of you worked on a few line changes and mapped out a better way to execute the scene for over two hours.

There was a bit of dialogue that Taika felt was getting lost that he really just didn’t want to let go of. “We may just have to mess with this tomorrow while we’re filming.”

“Or you could have Loki say it instead of Thor.” You suggested.

“Could do.” You could tell that Taika was thinking it over.

“Here you have Thor immediately going into another hard-hitting line” you explained. “If that line comes from Loki, it makes it less likely to get lost.”

“I think that will fix this problem too” Chris started underlining other parts of the dialogue.

“What do you think?” Taika looked at Tom.

“I mean, I personally think Loki has already evolved enough at that point in the script that it suits him quite nicely.” Tom explained in a way only Tom can explain.

“I agree” you said. “You guys make Loki grow quite a bit in this film and as usual, Tom is hitting it out of the park. I’m 100% confident he will have conveyed that message to the audience by this point.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence.” Again, Tom was flattered. However, he was growing more and more suspicious that you were Casper.

“Always” you replied, smiling at Tom as you finished your coffee.

“Let me type this up and we can table read it.” Taika grabbed the papers and went to the other side of the trailer where his computer was set up.

“While you do that, I’m going to steal your restroom for a moment.” Chris stood, throwing his empty coffee cup away and closing the bathroom door. Chris joined Taika a moment later.

“Y/n?” Tom said, kind of quietly.

“What’s up?” Your elbows were resting on the table with your chin sat on your hands.

“Can I ask you something?” Tom didn’t want to bring it up in front of anyone. He didn’t want the notes to stop, but he had to know.

Tom looked a bit serious, but you didn’t know why. “Of course.”

“Are you…” He stopped, reaching his hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. “Is this you?”

Your eyes went wide as Tom pulled a small stack of pink sticky notes out of his wallet, laying them down next to each other. There must have been 10 of them in total. You were touched that he actually kept them. Sometimes you felt silly leaving them for people not knowing if they appreciated them. You tried to play it off, laughing. “I thought those were from Taika?”

He pointed at one of them, reading it quietly. “I tried the tea you always drink. I don’t think it could ever replace my love of coffee, but I wanted you to know it pairs well with a good book.” He pointed to another note. “I know you paid for everyone to Uber home after our last night out. I just wanted to tell you I appreciate you. Thank you for always looking out for us.” You could feel his eyes on you as he moved his hand to a third note. “I envy your ability to capture a room. You’ve got an amazing knack for making those watching you feel whatever emotion you’re trying to convey.” When Tom’s hand moved to the fourth note, you heard Taika’s printer turn on.

“Put them away” you said, trying to stack them quickly. Chris started walking towards you and you grabbed the small stack you had gathered and put them in your pocket.

Tom put the rest back in his wallet. “What do you think?” he asked Taika about the changes he had made.

“I think tomorrow is going to be a lot fuckin’ better.” He passed the printed copies around after joining the two of you back at the table.

Tom’s line went over great, and the dialogue flowed much more smoothly. All of the other changes made the scene feel more natural. When Taika called it a night, Chris laid down on the couch refusing to go back to his own trailer.

“Can I walk you to yours?” Tom asked as you stepped out of Taika’s trailer.

The two of you walked back to your trailer in comfortable silence, tired and a little drunk. When you got to the door, you turned around and pulled the pink notes out of your pocket.

“Please don’t tell anyone?” You placed the notes in Tom’s hand.

“I didn’t plan on it” he replied, tucking them neatly back into his wallet.

“I feel silly now that someone knows it was me. Why did you keep them?” You had to ask. You assumed, at most, that people read them, smiled, and threw them away.

“Hmm…” Tom laughed humorlessly, his eyes focused on his wallet. “I think you’re doing a lot more than you realize when you leave your ‘silly’ little notes.”

His response caught you off guard. He almost sounded…sad? Serious?

“Y/n, I’ve had to work with actors and crew that have made filming a project miserable. Whether they were rude or critical or just an absolute diva, there is always someone to bring the room down.” He put his wallet away and looked you in the eyes. “I wish you knew how many of us have kept these notes. Taika has them in the glovebox of his car. The catwalk above the set is covered in notes you’ve left the crew. They’re stuck all over the mirrors in the make-up trailer so that the cast sees them first thing in the morning.”

Your eyes went wide. “What?”

Tom put his hands on each of your arms as if to ensure you were paying attention. “An encouraging word or a genuine compliment can change someone’s entire day, y/n. You have no way of knowing what life has dealt any of these people. They could be depressed or stressed out or wishing they hadn’t woken up that morning…and all of a sudden they receive a tiny bit of kindness from someone and it makes it that much easier to get through another day. Maybe even with a smile on their face.”

Tom wore a soft smile and even though you felt a bit overwhelmed, you couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you for telling me that.” You moved towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Please don’t forget it.” Tom pulled back a bit and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. “I hope you get a good night’s sleep.”

“You, too.” You watched Tom walk away before slipping into your shared trailer.

Over the next few weeks, Tom had left you multiple green sticky notes with compliments written on them.

“You looked stunning yesterday”

“Thank you for still being a good listener when I go on rants about things you couldn’t care less about”

“Taika was bragging about you to someone on the phone. I just wanted you to know. I know sometimes you hesitate to suggest your ideas, but you shouldn’t.”

“I appreciate how much time you spend making this a better set to work on.”

“You are an incredible friend.”

You’d find at least one note a day and for every note he left you, you’d leave one for him. The two of you got quite a bit closer after he found out about your secret. You’d spend breaks on set together and often times wound up back in Taika’s trailer with him and Chris. You cuddled and flirted and shared more than a few loving glances, but you never went any further. It felt like it was turning into something more, but Tom was such a gentleman you couldn’t tell.

The note you found this morning, however, completely caught you off guard. The filming was almost done and everyone’s time on set was almost over. You had just sat down next to the director’s chair and opened your laptop. There, stuck to the screen, was a green sticky note. “Darling, would you please be mine?”

You looked up at Tom on stage only to find him already looking at you. He lifted his brow and tilted his head, waiting for your response. You couldn’t help but smile as you nodded ‘yes’.

Taika looked between you, noticing the interaction and intentionally teasing you. “Oi, what’s this then?”

Tom turned, trying to hide his grin by talking to Chris. You closed your laptop to hide the sticky note.

“Nah, I saw you two. Don’t pretend like I’m crazy.” Taika was still looking back and forth between you and Tom.

“Maybe you’re still drunk from last night” you teased, putting your laptop in its bag so you could retrieve the note later.

“Oh, sure.” He dropped it, knowing he’d bring it up tonight when you all gathered in his trailer.

The rest of the filming flew by crazy fast. You and Tom had decided that you would go stay with him in New York until the press junkets and interviews started. When the premier rolled around, you two were already publicly dating so you got to escort him down the red carpet. It had been just over a year since the two of you had started dating.

As the credits for the film started rolling, you felt like you were walking down memory lane. So many people go into making movies of this scale and watching all of the names roll by, one by one, really puts that into perspective. You’d met almost all of these people and worked closely with quite a few of them. As the credits came to an end, you saw that Taika had added an extra credit.

The last few “SPECIAL THANKS” credits were in order as listed…

“The filmmakers acknowledge the assistance of the New Zealand Government’s Screen Production Grant”

“The filmmakers would like to acknowledge the Yugambeh and Bundjalung Peoples of Australia”

“The director would like to thank ‘Casper’, Ragnarok’s own personal friendly ghost”

It had been a year since you’d written one of those notes and it caught you off guard. Tom put his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I told you.”

You and Tom mingled amongst your friends at the after party. Taika was flying. He was so happy with how it turned out and grateful for such a positive response. Everyone in the cast was telling stories from filming and catching up with their friends. By the time you two got back to your hotel room, you were blissfully tipsy and exhausted. You slipped out of your dress and threw on a baggy t-shirt before washing your face and getting ready for bed. When you left the bathroom, you saw Tom sitting on the edge of the bed in his pajamas with a soft, warm smile gracing his beautiful face. He was wearing his glasses and his hair was a mess and he could not have been more attractive if he tried.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling you to stand between his legs.

“Pretty good. How about yourself?” you put your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his.

“I think there’s only one thing that could make me happier in this moment.” He answered.

You thought he was being a bit cheeky, so you replied with, “oh, yeah? I wonder what that could be.”

Tom reached behind him on the bed and pulled out a small box with a worn, green sticky note on top of it. He didn’t say anything, letting you read it. It was the same note he had left stuck to your laptop screen. “Darling, would you please be mine?” Only now the word “forever” was written at the bottom.

#Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston x reader #Tom Hiddleston imagine #loki

522 notes · View notes

americancowgirl19 · 4 years

Text

Old Times

Summary: You find your purpose in hopes of easing your conscious.

Warnings: angst, fluff, this is a part 2/sequel

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 1,878

A/n: I thought I would tag you two since you mentioned you guys wanted a part two; @pleasestophoney @graysonswonder

Masterlist - Part One (Eight Year)

Fuck whoever said knowing was the better choice. Knowing sucked and you wished that you were back to being in the dark about the things you’ve done. Sure, when you couldn’t remember your mind filled in the blanks for you. You would imagine what you had done. You’re imagination was far more merciful compared to the truth.

Your memories returned to you mainly at night, although you got flashes during the day if you were ‘lucky’. As time passed you became more and more aware of how dangerous and deadly you had become. In the last eight years, you were a merciless killing machine that made the Joker look like a fucking kitty cat.

The more you remembered the more you considered handing yourself over to the members of the League that wanted your head. You understood their need for revenge. Hell, if someone had done to you what you had done to them, you’d be demanding justice yourself.

You shared your father’s rule of no killing, at least you did before you were taken, but you knew you’d break that rule if someone killed anyone in your family. In fact, if you weren’t so scared of reverting into a mindless beast you would have torn the Joker apart for killing Jason. But you feared if you killed him, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

“What’re you doing out here?” Dick questions groggily. You turn your head just enough to see him in your peripheral vision. You had been sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment in Bludhaven for a couple of hours now.

It was one of the rare nights Dick had come home early. Bludhaven was quiet thus prompting Dick to return home to you sooner than usual. Since your return a couple of months ago, Dick continued being Bludhaven’s Nightwing.

You weren’t ready to join him as Nightshade. Although, that didn’t stop you from using your enhanced hearing to keep track of him. If he was in a trouble he couldn’t get out of, you could get to him within a minute. Luckily he hasn’t needed you yet. You doubted he would. He has survived eight years without you.

You felt guilty for not staying in bed with him. You only got him to yourself so often but you didn’t want to keep him up with your restlessness. He needed his sleep.

Dick joins you on the patio loveseat. He looks at you before sliding his arm around your waist. You shuffle as he pulls you onto his lap. His natural warmth engulfs you. You almost moan as you settle into his comforting embrace.

“I have the day off tomorrow,” Dick mutters, resting his head on yours. You hum snuggling closer to him.

“You have the day off or you’re taking the day off?” You wonder.

“Either way you’ve got me all day tomorrow... later today,” He corrects himself noticing that it’s technically early morning instead of late at night.

“You don’t have to take off work to babysit me,” You mumble.

“I don’t have to do anything but I want to spend the day with you tomorrow,” He tells you. Having grown up with his stubbornness, you let it go. “It’s gonna be a sunny day. I thought I’d take you to a market in the next town over,” A small smile comes to your lips. “Do you wanna try and get some more sleep?

“I was actually debating pouring a stiff drink,” You admit. “I’m gonna have to see if Wally will talk to me and give me some of that strong shit he drinks cause what you have tastes like water,” Dick scoffs.

“You used to get fucked off of three beers,” Dick mutters.

“Then I got super metabolism and cheap drinking went out the window,” You grumble. Dick kisses the crown of your head.

“I’ll give him a call,” He whisper.

“Diana sent you an email while you were asleep,” You tell him. He hums questionably. “They’re making a memorial for the fallen... I wonder if they’ll ask me to be a guest speaker,” You snark sarcastically. Dicks grip around you tightens. “I guess they figured since I’m ‘back-to-normal’ there won’t be anymore mass superhero killings,” Your eyes become misty. “She was nice enough to put a list attachment,” You voice shakes. “Katherine, John, Oliver... Donna,” You clench your eyes as you slowly breakdown.

“Hey, hey, stop,” You shift to straddle his waste. You cling to him, your head falling into his neck. He pets the back of your head and rub circles into your back. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright,” You try to keep collected even though you’re falling apart. “Y/n, look at me.. Please, baby,” You reluctantly pull from his neck. He presses his head against yours. “Tell me what to do, how can I help?”

You didn’t know how to answer, so you just move your head back to the crook of his neck. His arms lock around you as tightly as he can hoping that he can hold you together.

How could you come to terms with what happened? It’s not like there’s a shrink that could be trusted with the information in your mind. It’s not like that many people knew what you were going through. You just wanted to be normal again.

When you calmed down, Dick continued to hold you tightly. You would sniffle here and there but other than that neither of you made any noise. When you slowly began to drift off, Dick stood from the loveseat. His hands held you securely to his chest as he carried you back to bed.

When you both laid down, you faced each other. There was hardly space between you but enough to look at each other. The light of the moon gave just enough light to be able to see prominent features of his face.

“It won’t be like this forever,” He promises, brushing his fingers across your cheek. Your eyes slowly begin to close.

“Do you think there’ll be an antique shop by the market tomorrow?” You wonder.

“I’m sure we can find one,” He whispers, tugging you to his chest. You snuggle close, lightly kissing his peck.

When the sun rose, neither of your were necessarily in a hurry to leave the comfort of the bed. It wasn’t until a little past noon did you two finally get up. You tried to be uplifting and happy as you went through the market but settled for content and not sobbingly falling apart.

You had nearly a half an hour of peaceful normalcy until you picked up on someone following you. You didn’t know if Dick noticed but you began directing him to a secluded alley. You were halfway down when you sensed something coming toward you.

Instinctively, you spun around and pushed Dick behind you. You hand flew up and caught the red arrow. Toward the end of the alley stood someone you used to get along with but now looked at you with murderous intent. You pushed Dick a good few feet away from you seconds before the arrow exploded. The explosion only singed parts of your outfit.

“Roy!” Dick snapped, glaring at the redhead.

“Why do you get to walk away?” Roy snapped, gripping his bow. “You hunt us down and kill us for eight years.” He snarls.

“That wasn’t her, Roy” Dick tells him. “She didn’t have a choice,”

“How convenient for her,” Roy snaps. You cast your gaze to the ground in shame.

“What are you doing here Roy? What do you want?” Dick asks, standing with you shoulder-to-shoulder.

“I want justice,” Roy snaps. “You don’t get to slaughter people and just walk away,”

“It wasn’t her,” Dick growls, clenching his fists. “She wasn’t in control, she-”

“I’ll stand trial,” You cut Dick off. His head whips around to you. “The league will decide what happens,”

“They’ve already voted on what to do with you,” Dick reminds both you and Roy. “They know you weren’t in control. You’re just as much a victim as the others,” You look at Dick, your mind reeling.

“Then lets get the bastard that pulled my strings,” You say. You turn your head to Roy.

“They’ve already tried finding the ones that took you,” Roy says.

“Yeah, well they didn’t have me,” You tell him. “I have a better chance than anyone at finding them. You want justice? I want redemption. Let’s avenge those that died,” Roy stares at you, obviously intrigued with the idea. “I can’t do it alone, I’ll need help,”

“We’ll need a team,” Dick says. “Those we trust,” He emphasized. The last thing he wanted was someone convinced you were the problem and trying to kill you in your sleep. He would already have his hands full with the mission and keeping an eye on Roy.

“Have anyone in mind?” Roy tilts his head.

“A few,” You mutter.

Within a couple of weeks, your team was put together. You convinced Conner to come so that you would have added muscle and someone strong enough to stand against you should the ones you’re going after rescramble your mind. Wally joined mainly to keep the mood lifted and tensions as low as possible. His naturally happy aurora would hopefully keep Roy from turning against you all and to keep him fighting with Dick.

Plus him and Conner were your friends before all this happened and were the few that remained by your side after all these years.

The last to join was Jason. You added the Joker to the list of people you needed to take down. You wanted him because one, he’s your brother, and two, he’s willing to kill. He knew how to do what needed to be done and most of the people you were going after didn’t deserve a trial nor a second chance.

The six of you were a large and qualified team. You knew not to underestimate you opponent. You knew how to work together. And you all had a reason to fight.

For the first time you felt like you had a purpose, a true and righteous purpose.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dick, dressed in his Nightwing, costume questions stepping up to you. You smile, readjusting your mask.

It didn’t feel right to become Nightshade again. You weren’t that person anymore. You were someone else now. Tim redesigned your costume as you donned a new name.

“This is something I need to do,” You tell him. “I don’t know if it’ll settle the nightmares or ease the guilt but hopefully it’ll give others a sense of closure if we get them and prevent this from happening again,”

“Ok,” Dick mutters, nodding. “If this gets too much, step back and let us handle it,”

“Please,” You smirk. “Without me, you idiots would be running around like chickens without a head,” Dick smirks widely. “Don’t worry so much, baby, it’ll be like old times,” You wink kissing his cheek. The simple kiss isn’t enough for him. His arm instantly slings around your waist and pulls you against him.

Dick presses his lips against yours. You breathe slowly through your nose and lean against him.

“Just like old times,” He murmurs against your lips.

#Dick Grayson #Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x Female!reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #Nightwing #Roy Harper #Conner Kent #Jason Todd #DC Comics

195 notes · View notes

parkersbliss · 4 years

Text

Together | Minho

pairing: minho x female reader

warnings: swearing? violence?

wc; idk like 1.6k??

summary: kicked out of the maze, only to run into the people that did it to you in what should be the safe haven. how ironic.

a/n: bruh it’s been so long I don’t even remember how to type me thing up there ^

request by: @elizabeth-brown

—

Hate is a strong word.

That’s why it was so perfect to describe how you felt about them.

You hated them, all of them. It was their fault you were cast out, left alone to fend for yourself. It was because of their actions you were taken, tortured, and then escaped only to be met with nothing.

Trauma doesn’t just disappear, and forgiveness doesn’t just happen.

...

“What does it say?” Newt asked, pushing his way to the front and grabbing the note from one of the other Glader’s. His eyes skim over the paper, mouth parting slightly before crumbling it back up and shoving it in his pocket.

“Newt?” You questioned with furrowed brows.

He coughs, extending a hand to the greenie, “welcome to the glade.”

“Are we just going to ignore the note?” Gally asked arms crossed over his chest.

Newt glares at him, “yeah, we are mate.”

Gally scoffs, “We’re a team here. I think we deserve to know what the note says.”

The other gladers nod in agreement, crossing their arms as they stare expectantly at Newt, you included.

“It said if we sacrificed (Y/N), they would let us out,” The glader who first had the note blurted.

Newt slaps him upside the head, giving him a stern look as murmurs pass through the crowd.

Of all the things to be written on a note, it was that. All eyes are on you, suffocating you with their stare and whispers. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

“Who’s (Y/N)?” The greenie asked, eyes blown wide as he realizes he was trapped in here. “Please, I want to go home.”

Alby drags a hand down his face, “Keepers and (Y/N), meeting hut, now.”

The gladers watch as you all disappeared, their gaze burning holes in your back until Minho slams the door shut.

“Well?” Gally starts.

“We’re not sacrificing her,” Minho said firmly. “Are we supposed to suddenly trust them?”

Winston purses his lips, “They do supply us with food and what we need to live. We don’t exactly have a reason to not trust them.”

Newt rolls his eyes, “How about the walls they trapped us in?”

“We don’t have to be trapped if we let her go,” Billy said softly.

“You want to risk that?”

“Yeah, maybe. It’s not fair to us if we don’t try.”

“How many more people have to die before we’re free?” Zart questioned.

Alby exhales, “we’ll take a vote.”

The minute the note was read aloud, you knew your fate. It wasn’t something that had to be thought about much. Was it fair? No, but it’s not like you got a say in this anyway.

“All in favor, raise your hand.”

The only people without their hands raised are Frypan, Minho, and Newt.

“Then it’s settled.”

“This isn’t fair,” You protest. “What if they’re lying?”

“And what if they’re not?” Billy retorts.

Gally seizes you roughly by the arm, throwing you in the dungeons until dusk.

…

“You’re alive?” Minho asked, still reeling in shock. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it yet. The morning after you had been thrown into the maze he went after you. He ran the entire thing until the cycle was complete.

He never found you or anything that even convinced him you had been there. It was almost like you just vanished.

But everyone knows when someone just vanishes, it means they were dead.

So he came to terms with that fact. He accepted it and tried to move on.

It was harder than he expected. After all, people only realize the truth when someone is gone. It’s not until someone is dead that people begin to care.

Miss you when you’re gone, didn’t care when you were there.

Cruel place, isn’t it?

“I am,” You said bitterly. You quickly notice that the group you had been in the maze with was reduced to almost nothing. More specifically, the people that had voted you out were gone. At least, you presumed that.

“Who’s that?” You asked, pointing to the brunette who had not been part of your original group. Two other girls flanking his side, it burned you from the inside out. Had they been part of the maze? They probably weren’t kicked out like you were.

He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, “I’m Thomas.”

“He’s the reason we got out,” Newt explained. “I don’t think we’d be anywhere without him.”

“But what about you?” Minho asked, “How are you alive?”

...

The night was cold. You had been too afraid to even move from your spot in the vines. You can hear them, the creaking and whining as they stomp past. God, you wished you never had to experience this.

You wouldn’t even wish this upon the people that cast you. Actually, you just might. You keep yourself awake, digging your nails in your palm every time your eyes get heavy.

Survival means staying awake, just a few more hours.

A few more hours…

And then you woke up in a lab, and that’s when things got worse. Being someone’s lab rat was certainly not ideal. You sat in your room all day, with nothing but a bed until they took you away, running all sorts of tests.

At first, it was painful, but then you just felt numb. Some people tried to fight it, but you’d just relax and let them do whatever it is they’re doing. You figured that’s why they tested you so much; you were the calmest.

There wasn’t a point to fighting it; there wasn’t a point too much now. Every day was the same, and although sometimes you missed the runner with a bit of sass, you endured this.

You didn’t know why, but there was a bit of hope. It was quickly diminishing but it was still there, a small flame that maybe you’d see him again; that you might escape.

And that day came. After what must have been a year of all this testing, WICKED had lightened up on you. They gave you full freedom, no longer locking you in your room.

But they made the mistake of keeping a door open, a door to the outside. You didn’t think; you just ran.

You ran until your legs gave out, and you were gasping for air.

You had escaped.

…

“I could ask you the same thing,” You said bitterly.

The people before you had voted for you to stay, and you should forgive them, but you don’t. They didn’t do anything to save you, to stop the others from throwing you in the maze. They stood by, and they watched.

They watched as you begged and pleaded for your life.

“I’m sorry,” Minho said, reaching out to you, but you back away.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” You laughed, “Sorry doesn’t make up for being tortured by them, by having to survive on my own, to fight for my life because of a stupid note. Tell me, did they keep to their promise?”

Newt hesitates, “no.”

“That’s what I thought,” You spat. “Look, I’m glad you’re alive, but don’t come here thinking we can all be friends. You go your way, and I’ll go mine.”

They watch you leave, Minho biting his lip as he watches you walk away from him again. He can’t lose you, not when you never really left.

Minho chases after you, grabbing your wrist. “Please, hear us out. Our story isn’t that different from yours.”

“I bet her’s is, I bet she didn’t get kicked out of the maze,” You said, motioning toward the other girl and shrugging Minho off.

“We fought the grievers,” Fry said suddenly. “All of us and we were taken by WICKED.”

“And they told us it was safe, but it wasn’t,” Minho chimed in. "They tested us, some more than others, but we escaped.”

“Don’t forget how Thomas threw a gun at the guard,” Fry added.

Newt shakes his head, chuckling. “or how Minho totally kneed one!”

“Right that, and we escaped into the scorch. We lost Winston to a group of cranks, we found the city, and then Thomas was drugged at a party.”

“We took a guy hostage.”

“Grabbed his car.”

“And now we’re here.”

“Oh and Gally died, Minho shot him.”

“You what?”

Minho rubs the back of his neck, “it was bound to happen eventually, he killed Chuck, but you didn’t know him. And he was gonna kill Thomas. He also… killed you, in a way.”

The boys smile sheepishly, “look you don’t have to forgive us, not right now, but (Y/N) we’re here.”

Minho nods, grabbing your hand and you let him this time, but not without a warning glance.

“You went through a lot more than we did, but we’d like to take down WICKED together.”

“Together?”

“Together.”

— END —

#minho #maze runner minho #tmr minho #minho fluff #minho x y/n #minho x reader #minho x you #tmr minho x reader #the maze runner x you #the maze runner x reader #the maze runner #the death cure #the scorch trials

227 notes · View notes

everyonesawhoregrace · 2 years

Text

FIRE & ICE I

Authors note: Hi everyone! Thanks for stopping by to read this story. It's definitely one of my favourites (I say that about all of my stories lol). I typically don't bother my readers, but I've stumbled upon some information, and my oh my is this information good. My story - THIS STORY - is qualified to make me some extra income! Isn't that amazing?! I'm not asking for you to do much, but if you could vote and comment, it would boost my story and get more recognition from the wattpad team. It's always an honour to have even one person read my work, and I truly couldn't thank you all enough.

WARNING - This story is not for the soft hearted. It will carry some serious subject matter(s). Such as sexual abuse, drug abuse, depression, violence, suicidal thoughts. Over all pretty sad shit relating to things a lot of people struggle with.

You have been warned!

If you at all feel triggered by this story, please take care of yourself first. I am sorry in advanced, but please take what I am writing seriously! Do not read if you are tormented by any of the following subjects: sexual abuse, drug abuse, depression, violence, suicidal thoughts.

I will try to put warnings before the chapters but just know... the whole story carries these sorta subject matters.

DISCLAIMER - I don't condone any of the behaviour suggested by the characters in this story.

Thanks so much.

ABOUT THE STORY:

This definitely isn't your or my typical Thomas Shelby Fanfic. As a matter of fact, this is the furthest thing from anything I have ever created. Most of my stories surround the idea of a strong female lead. Or at least my idea of one...

I digress — we all know and love the story in which a woman who knows what she wants and needs is ready (for the most part) to allow Thomas's misery and doom take up her life.

This story is the complete opposite. This is a story in which Tommy needs to take reign or take care of the female protagonist- Jade Verga.

I don't know how you all will feel about this story. You'll soon realize that, unlike my other stories, this is a story of needing and not just about romance and kisses. It's a stripped down story, one that is raw with truth and angst.

That selfish need is a sense of belonging at the end of the day. It's needless to say, this story means a whole lot to me.

Cast:

Jade Verga Age 28

Jacob Verga Age 28

Oliver Wentworth Age 32

Thomas Shelby Age 35

William Kroy Age 39

And everyone else is casted as the usual peeps. I'm excited for this one guys. ⭐️🧚🏽‍♀️

Hey friends | 2020 | update !

So wow, 100k reads. It would be awesome for y'all to vote and comment so that it gets more praise by for our friends at Wattpad to see. I'm so happy this story lifted off and is in outer space right now ! ❣️😀

Be sure to check out fire & ice vol 2 & 3

4 notes · View notes

thelittlepalmtree · 4 years

Text

A rebuttal against common Hamilton criticism.

As Hamilton is released on Disney+ a lot of people are talking about why it is problematic. Now the first thing I will say is that it is your right not to like this show just as it is other people’s right to like this show. It may not be what you want from your media. And maybe the reason you dislike it is cultural, it doesn’t talk about the issues you want it to talk about enough, it doesn’t address your view of that time period, it isn’t accurate. Your reason for not liking something is valid, even if it’s just that you don’t like it. My problem is when this conversation becomes a moral issue. When it becomes “if you like Hamilton you’re racist”. At the end of the day, one play, no matter how good, has very little significant impact on peoples lives. It’s just a play.

My second caveat is that I don’t interact with the fandom so I can’t address concerns about it.

1. Hamiton doesn’t address slavery.

My biggest problem with this criticism is that it does. Frequently. A major aspect of the recurring line “you have no control/who lives who dies who tells your story” is that Laurens died, the biggest advocate against slavery in the play. The fact that he is a slave owner is used against Thomas Jefferson in the cabinet meeting. In fact “What did I miss?” shows Jefferson coming home to all his slaves. In many ways Jefferson is shown as a bigoted rich person when compared to Hamilton being an “orphan immigrant” because he owned slaves.

The fact that Lin-Manuel did not come out on stage and say “hey guys, I know we’re all having fun here at Hamilton: the musical, but let’s just remember that slavery is bad and a lot of these guys were slave owners” does not mean that slavery was not addressed. There is literally a line in the play “We’ll never be free until we end slavery”

2. Hamilton is not accurate.

Amazingly I see this a lot. Hamilton isn’t accurate. Honey, of course it’s not. In the same way that Drunk History isn’t a reliable source, neither are Broadway musicals. Of course artistic liberties were taken, did you not see the cast. The whole point of Hamilton is that it is a retelling of a story that traditionally did not include people of color. This leads us to our next point.

3. Hamilton “romanticizes” a multifaceted history.

“Romanticize” is a critique that is perfect for taking a moral high ground because it is as vague as it is subjective. I don’t think the play shies away from the problems with the founding fathers. As I said before, Jefferson is 100% represented as a bigoted slave owner. The fact that you liked him, that he is charismatic is because that’s how people are. Do you really think every racist is like Donald Trump? The history of the world is the history of charismatic people getting away with murder. A character can be both likable and a bad person.

Hamilton himself is shown as a rash, impulsive person who frequently makes bad decisions that hurt not just himself but his family. Washington is shown as heistant and reticent to change. Eliza is shown as loving but weak and in need of protection. Angelica is shown as outspoken but betrays her ideals when she actually has to make a choice for her personal life. Every character is both good and bad, flawed and likable. Welcome to humanity, that’s kind of our whole deal.

When we look at the play as a whole and the major themes people seem to be salty about the fact that it’s not all about how trash America is. I don’t understand the need on the far left to say that the promise of America--that we should have a say in our government, that we should have freedom of speech, that everyone is created equal--is a complete lie. The truth is it’s more complicated than that. Yes, this play shows America as a “Great unfinished Symphony” and the revolutionary war as a major shift in culture. But it also portrays the founders as narcissists who argue and bicker over every little thing and compromise their morals frequently. Because both things are true!

Once again, the fact that Lin-Manuel did not step out and explain to you that America isn’t a perfect country and we still struggle with inequality today, does not mean that that message was not in the play.

Final note

If you look for problems in any media you will find them. Especially when you pick and choose what matters. If Hamilton is not your thing that is totally fine, but it does not give you woke points for hating it. I know it’s popular now to have “hot takes” that involve shitting on anything popular. Take that energy and please put it into protesting, organizing, and voting.

#hamilton

510 notes · View notes

tinyboxxtink · 3 years

Text

"Clueless" *Part 15* (Finale)

I'll admit the last bit of this wasn't TOTALLY amazing, BUT I'm stoked to start "Black Magic", and I got the major points that I wanted in this ending. So, I hope you guys like it. 😉

[Black Magic starts tonight.]

Part 14

Gif's UNDER the cut, so there's no spoilers.

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@objection-argumentative

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@aprildecker-blog

-----

To your relief, the last two classes were Rafael free. However, that third week was the big court cases final argument finals.

To make it extra stressful, your professor had gotten permission to use a real live courtroom for you all to present your cases. And not only that, filled the gallery with judiciary members, and to your absolute horror that included the SVU squad.

When you walked into the courtroom, you were already panicking with all the spectators. But seeing the panelists standing up front, including Rafael with a smug smile, your palms began to sweat. You and Josh exchanged worried glances, but held hands and stayed strong together. You glanced over to the gallery to see Ariel giving you a thumbs up. What the…?

“What is Ariel doing here?” You whispered to Josh. “I thought only law students were allowed in here,”

“Oh I asked her to be here,” Josh smiled, waving at Ariel.

“Why…?” You gave him a confused look.

“Uh, for you obviously,” He nervously smiled. “I wanted you to have a friendly face in the audience, y’know besides me,”

“That’s really sweet babe,” You nuzzled his neck. “How’d she manage it though?”

“I’m pretty sure she paid off one of the guards,” He chuckled.

“Figures,” You rolled your eyes.

You took your seats with the rest of the class on one side of the gallery, awaiting your turns. It made you sick to your stomach to see just how happy Rafael was, why was he in such a good mood?

“Look at him, he’s such a smug bastard,” Josh whispered.

“I know right?” You scoffed back, glaring right at Rafael. But his smile didn’t dissipate, it only grew bigger. What the hell was happening?

Soon the courtroom was completely full, buzzing with conversation. Until a guard started clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention.

“Attention, the honorable Judge Walker,”

A very old, very mean looking judge came walking from his chambers and settled into his seat. Great, another thing to panic about.

“Attention, Attention, thank you all for coming today. I am very excited to see the fresh young minds of law at work, but first--” He paused and looked down at the panelists.

“Mr. Barba has asked to make an announcement to the court,”

Wait, what? What was happening? You looked at Ariel with panic, Josh squeezed your hand harder as you gave him a very worried look. You looked at Olivia, who looked uncomfortable. She didn’t know what was going on, that couldn’t be good.

“Ahem,” Rafael adjusted his jacket as he got ready to address the court.

“Ladies and gentleman; as the students here are aware, I’ve been sitting in on their classes for the last few weeks so that I could get a better, well rounded assessment of each one of them so I could go into these ‘trials’ with an idea of who I wanted to work with this summer,” He looked around at each and everyone in the court, except for you and Josh. Of course.

“...But, unfortunately, those evaluations are going to have to suffice as a suggestion to my colleagues here. As I am recusing myself from the proceedings today,”

The court began buzzing with even more conversation, you looked at Ariel who had the same stunned and confused look on her face. You glanced at the SVU squad who looked concerned. Seriously, what was happening? You looked at Josh, he was completely lost and-- worried?

“Babe...are you ok?” You whispered.

He looked at you, not being able to speak. Okay did HE have an idea what was going on?

“Order, Order!!!” The judge banged his gavel. Then he addressed Rafael: “Mr. Barba, why exactly are you recusing yourself?”

Rafael took a deep breath as he looked at the floor. After a pause, he looked back up to the court.

“Because, I could not in good conscience cast a vote when I have a conflict of interest,” He answered, the smile crossing across his face once again.

Your heart started pounding, your breath quickened. Everything went fuzzy and it suddenly felt like you were underwater.

“...And what exactly would that be?” The judge raised an eyebrow.

Your palms began to sweat, you wanted so badly to look at Ariel but you literally could not move. You couldn’t tell if Josh was still holding your hand because your whole body was numb.

Everyone in the courtroom watched Rafael with bated breath, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. Rafael finally fixed his sights right on you:

“...Because I am in love with one of the candidates,” He said with the same huge smile he had since you walked in.

Your heart COMPLETELY stopped, along with your breath. You desperately made pleadings with any higher power that you would NOT pass out in this courtroom in front of every person you admire and knew in your entire academic career.

“Oh my God…” You heard Josh mutter. Oh God, Josh. He was probably crushed right now, so humiliated. You couldn’t even look at him, all you could do was stare at Rafael. He was still beaming at you, so proud of himself. It would be extremely annoying if he hadn’t just announced to an entire room full of his colleagues that he was IN LOVE WITH YOU.

You felt yourself begin to breathe, your heartbeat began to beat, but now it was pounding out of your chest. Wait, he didn’t actually say your name. Yet…?

“Order, Order!” The judge banged his gavel once again, and you finally noticed during your little black out the entire room had erupted into even more chatter.

“Mr. Barba, you really could have just told your colleagues here your reason, there’s no need for this showboating,” He told Rafael in a very annoyed tone.

“Yes your honor, I understand,” He nodded. “But I wanted Miss Y/N to know that I am NOT ashamed of her,” Rafael looked at you once again, his smile still plastered on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile back, you were absolutely floored. Any thoughts of how Josh, Ariel, or even Olivia were reacting were out of your mind. Any panic that you wouldn’t be able to present your case now was a million miles away, all you could see was Rafael, the man who was in love with you.

“...Great. Well, I’m glad you and Miss Y/N are happy, but if you don’t mind I’d like to continue our proceedings,” He tried to speak over the crowd. “Alright maybe we need a brief recess,” He sighed, looking at Rafael exasperated. “Barba, really?”

“I’m sorry Mike, It’s a whole thing,” Rafael gave him an apologetic smile.

“Mike” The Judge, banged his gavel once again. “A 15 minute recess and then we’ll begin,”

Rafael took this moment to immediately run to you, you met him halfway. You wanted so desperately to just kiss him right there, but you were still technically in class. Even you knew you needed to stay professional right now.

“I...You...You…” You couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know,” He took your hands. “I am so sorry I left you the other night, but I knew after everything I put you through-- I needed to go big,” He gestured to the courtroom.

“I...Y-You…” Your head was reeling, thinking back to the last night you saw him. You thought for sure that it was absolutely over, and this whole time he had this huge display of an act of true love planned out.

“I love you, Y/N,” He stroked your face. “I love you and I want everyone to know it,” He stared at your lips, you knew you were both thinking the exact same thing.

“Screw it…” You grabbed his hand and pulled Rafael outside into the lobby of the courthouse. Before he could register what was happening, you grabbed him in a deep, passionate kiss. He kissed you back deeply, even more passionate than he had in his office.

“And that was…?” He gave you a weird smile.

“Well, you already announced ‘us’, I didn’t think they needed a free show on top of it,” You bit your lip with a smile.

“It probably wouldn’t have thrilled Josh,” He nodded towards the courtroom.

Crap. Josh. Your face fell, you stared back into the courtroom. As if summoned by the mention of his name, Josh came walking out of the courtroom, quickly trailed by Ariel.

“Oh God…” You muttered. Rafael took your hand gently, letting you know he was there for you. You gave him a small smile as Josh and Ariel approached you.

“Josh…” You started to talk, but Josh put a hand up.

“Wait, Y/N. Before you say anything, I need to say something,” He looked back at Ariel, who walked up next to him. You looked at Rafael with a quizzical look, he returned the look.

“The truth is, Ariel and I--” He looked at Ariel, who looked guilty. “We’ve been...spending time together,”

“What?!” You looked between the two of them, shocked.

“Nothing ever happened,” Josh put up his hands. “It was just as friends,”

“Technically,” Ariel added with a smile.

“Wow,” You muttered.

“Well that’s great news,” Rafael chimed in. “I’m very happy for you, Ariel. Josh seems like a great guy,”

“....Really?” You, Ariel AND Josh asked at the same time, in scary unison.

“Really,” He nodded. “Why do you think I hated him so much?” He looked at Josh. “In fact, I recommended you for the internship,”

“Really?” Josh’s eyes brightened. “I never thought--”

“You were a formidable opponent, sir,” Rafael held out a hand.

“Yeah well,” Josh took his hand and shook it. “I suppose you can’t really stop true love,” He nodded at you.

“Gag,” Ariel made a gagging sound, making Josh hit her. “Quiet you, or I’m going to tell you I love you,”

“Oh please don’t,” She hit him playfully. “I’ll throw up on you,”

“Oh I’ll--” He grabbed her and kissed her.

“....And I don’t think we need to be here for this,” You pulled Rafael away. You both looked at each other in absolute confusement, then both busted out laughing.

“I...I can’t even…” You gestured to your best friend and now ex boyfriend kissing in front of you and your...new boyfriend?

All of a sudden, Olivia came storming out of the courtroom.

“Here we go…” Rafael muttered softly. You began to get worried; this was the real test.

“Rafael...what do you think you’re doing?!” She cried angrily.

“Ah, Olivia,” Rafael ignored her tone. “Have you met my girlfriend, Y/N?”

He said it. He called you his girlfriend. In public. To OLIVIA BENSON.

“You…” She glanced between the two of you, you gave her a triumphant smile. “This will ruin your career,” She addressed Rafael.

“I’ll take that risk,” He took your hand, you laid your head on his shoulder. You were a united front.

“....Whatever,” She brushed both of you off and stomped back into the courtroom.

“I can’t-- You just--” You looked to where Olivia had stormed off, back to him with the smile that you decided was a permanent attribute of your face now.

“I did,” He nodded, reading your mind.

“Court will resume in one minute!” A guard came out and announced. Josh and Ariel nodded to you and Rafael as they walked back inside hand in hand.

“So…” You turned to Rafael with your excited grin. “You gonna stick around?”

“Are you kidding?” He put a thumb on your chin. “I wanna see you in action,”

“Oh God,” You bit your lip. “As if I wasn’t nervous enough,”

“Baby I’ll be right there, cheering you on,” He kissed your forehead. “Forever,”

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

In the end, Josh got the internship, like everyone knew he would. But you got something even better, you got the love of your life, and Ariel got herself an ACTUAL Josh.

At the end of the day, it turned out you weren’t totally clueless.

(again let's pretend the Raul kiss is the reader. )

#rafael barba imagine #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #law and orde svu #rafael barba fanficton

21 notes · View notes

loreweaver-universe · 3 years

Photo

And that’s...the show.

Man. What a show. That kept me guessing all the way through. The core mystery of is-it-magic-is-it-not really kept me going for a while there. A compelling cast of characters, too--even the one I utterly fucking despised.

Tsukiko and Ikari’s parallel stories converging as each of them hits the breaking point and finds it within themselves to accept the way things truly are was masterfully done. And that’s all it took, in the end--looking within oneself and no longer denying the truth defeated both of their inner demons and in the process saved countless lives. We could all do with a bit more introspection from time to time.

“My place disappeared from this world a long time ago. The reality is that there is no place for me anymore. But that’s the reality I have to face!”

The world changes, the world moves on. It’s up to us to decide if we want to join the new world or whether we want to wallow in our self-pity over being left behind. That is definitely a lesson a lot of people in the modern day need to learn, and the source of no small amount of societal ills befalling us. Words of wisdom.

As for the individual victims of Li’l Slugger...I wish we got resolutions for some of them. Taeko in particular being amnesiac and back in the grip of her pedophile father seems a rather horrific end. Harumi also makes me wish we’d gotten a resolution to her issues; I’ll forever wonder if she got treatment, if she resolved her DID or if it consumed her and destroyed her marriage.

Hopefully Maniwa’s getting the help he needs. He’s in the care of a mental hospital, at least, though I don’t know how well he’s being treated. What would you call his deal, anyways? A psychotic break? Paranoid schizophrenia where the paranoia part happens to be about something that actually happened? Or is it just “Mental IllnessTM” and leaving it at that?

And...Tsukiko. Tsukiko, who appears to have moved on with her life to some degree. (How she managed that swim back home is beyond me.) It’s not like anyone would...actually, hrm. The destruction happened after all the Maromi merch in the country spontaneously vanished. I’ll bet at the very minimum Tsukiko is the subject of some very dedicated conspiracy theory communities, even if the larger society doesn’t have enough information to put together her involvement. Still, she’s moved on, past the disaster she was responsible for; I’m not sure what sort of consequences she should have actually seen, in a Watsonian sense, but approaching it with Doylist intent, the message of finding peace and moving on after accepting the truth trumps that.

This is the first of Satoshi Kon’s works I’ve seen, though I’d seen a copy of Tokyo Godfathers on my local library’s shelves years ago--I meant to borrow it, but never did. Maybe I should change that; this was certainly an excellent work, one I’d happily seek out more of.

Rest in peace, Satoshi Kon. You’ve touched the world, by all accounts, and you especially touched the patron who chose this show.

Thank you, by the way. This was an excellent show, and your support over the past two years has helped me immensely. I’m glad we’re friends.

Well! That’s Paranoia Agent. That’s the end of this particular Patron Pick; the patron opened up their spot and another took their place immediately, so in the next cycle of liveblogs you’ll be seeing something new! It’ll be a surprise, though, since I’m sure a bunch of you are excited to see me do it. That’ll be it for tonight; up next is going to be Baccano, which we’ll continue Wednesday. Also, tomorrow, I’ll be completing my playthrough of Resident Evil Village on the hardest difficulty, so tune in at my Twitch channel or catch old streams on my Youtube if you’d like!

As always, thank you for tuning in, and thank you to my 62 patrons who make it so I can do this for a living! And especially thank you to the people who have been so kind as to donate over the past few months of mental health issues I’ve been having, you’ve been lifesavers. I’ll see you guys next time!

IN OTHER NEWS:

I recently completed my blind playthrough of Resident Evil Village! You can see the full playlist of those streams by clicking here!

If you’d like to help me pay my rent, buy me some food, or help with my bills and medicine, please use my direct donation link! If you’d like to support me per liveblog completed every month, please pledge to my Patreon! Becoming a patron not only allows you to vote on what shows I do whenever I choose a new one, but also grants access to the community Minecraft server to $5 patrons or higher!

You should also go pledge to Gio’s Patreon, or his Sponsus–our Discord server maintenance tech, creator of Rubybot, and community Minecraft server overlord deserves far more than I can afford to pledge to him by myself.

If you’d like more of me and my content:

My Episode Lists master page, where you can find every show and liveblog I’ve done!

My Discord server, where you can come hang out with me and other fans, check out member liveblogs, and join community gaming guilds!

My Twitch channel, where I stream variety games every so often!

My Youtube channel, where you can check out past streams!

My ask blog, where you can send me questions and comments!

My Twitter, where I make announcements about liveblogs and streams!

It’s your kindness and support that lets me do this stuff, and I wouldn’t be where I am without all of you to do it for. Thank you all so much for your support, and for tuning in every episode!

OTHER PEOPLE YOU MAY ENJOY:

I may have been one of the earlier Steven Universe liveblogs, but a whole community of livebloggers has sprung up over the last five years! I linked to a bunch individually for a few wrap-ups, but honestly, this end-slate is already eight billion miles long, so I’m just gonna link to my links page. Click here if you want recommendations of other livebloggers, or other neat people, or webcomics and podcasts that I recommend.

#paranoia agent #noiabloggin #bloggin #noia26 #paranoia agent episode 13 #episode wrap up #this is screenshot #noia2171

20 notes · View notes

freckles-and-jalapeno · 4 years

Text

First Snow

Word count: about 5K 🎧: this Originally I posted it on AO3 in 2 languages, English and Russian. Check it out if you'd like! Other than that, I hope u enjoy! 🌟

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

First snow...

No, we’re not talking about that pathetic, grey, mashed potato-like mud that makes your socks wet. It’s not those soggy pieces of cold white cotton wool, blown into the folds of your scarf by the wind. And it’s not that icy-cold frost that bites into your cheeks and ears, ruffles your hair and pierces the layers of your coat and sweaters. It’s that warm, pure December snow that quietly falls from the sky in soft flakes.

- What fine weekend weather we‘re having today! - happily said Tonks as she was crunching on her cheese toast. - Last week, you said exactly the same thing about the snowstorm - remarked Talbott, briefly looking up from his book "Transfiguration Tips for Young Wizards and Witches".

"What’s wrong with enjoying life?" Tonks would have answered, but since her mouth was still full of food, she only managed “Fffoosss wwonkk ittph eehooaaifff?”

Indeed, everyone at Hogwarts was in high spirits: the winter holidays were in full swing, half of the tables in the Great Hall were removed to accommodate beautiful Christmas trees, and students from different houses were allowed to sit together. Y/N, Tulip and Bill were the first ones to arrive for breakfast and attack the apple oatmeal; then Talbott and Tonks joined them. The air was full of joyful hubbub: the owls, who already delivered their morning parcels, were hooting and flapping their wings; students were rattling with their spoons and cups or loudly discussing the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet . And yet, there was one man in the castle who did not share the common joy.

Charlie has entered the Great Hall and tragically plopped down next to Tonks. - It’s a nightmare. I asked Francesca Wayne out on a date, and she agreed. - And... isn't that good news? - Bill gestured with his spoon of oatmeal towards his brother. Coincidentally, some oatmeal flew off the spoon, soared over the table and sludged right onto Barnaby’s shoulder.

- Her agreeing to go on a date with me was good. - Charlie said. - We were strolling around Hogsmeade, and everything was swell until some fifth-year Slytherin student unexpectedly jinxed me with the Tarantallegra charm. I began to tap-dance like a madman!.. And then it got worse. I was still dancing by the time Fitwick showed up. He did cast a counter-spell, but.. - Charlie covered his face with hands, and now was talking through his fingers. - ...by that time I had already managed to plummet into some mud nearby… I suspect it was porlock’s dung. It smelled all the same. Basically, I looked like a complete idiot ... oh, crickey!

Just at this moment they noticed a group of cute Hufflepuff girls passing by. For some mysterious reason, all girls had their hair gathered in a neat, long ponytail. The tallest gal from the gang stopped and waved in their direction.

- Hee-hee! Hiiiii Charlie! .. How are your legs doing today? ..

The feeling of shame caused Charlie’s face to take on a shade of beet.

- This is officially it. I quit girls. From now on, I will become a druid, go somewhere like Egypt and will only be dealing with dragons.

- Oh come on, Charlie! Don’t mind Francesca! - Y/N reassuringly patted her friend on the arm. - You know, I often see her in Potions class: she hides behind a cauldron and picks her nose, thinking that no one can see her.

- So true, - Tulip signed with her brows. - I bet she’s eating her boogers, too!

The whole company burst into loud laughter.

- But seriously though, - continued Tonks. - Let's forget everything about these bloody incidents and celebrate the weekend properly! Let's visit Hogsmeade, buy some butterbeer….

- Take a look at Zonko’s! ..

- Blimey, how could we forget about Zonkos’ for a split second?..

- Actually, this might be a good idea. I do need a new moke leather bag...

- I”ll get some sugar quills! ..

And so they agreed.

* * *

After shoving themselves into warm sweaters, hats, and mittens, they headed out of the Courtyard together. Bill, Charlie, and Tulip were walking in front, followed by Talbott, Y/N and Tonks. The group chatted about the upcoming semester and wondered which subject will have them writing most essays. Shortly thereafter, they met Professor Snape, grouchily making his way back to the castle, and they started proposing different versions of why he wasn’t around much these days and what mysterious business he was up to. Finally, they had an argument about what kind of festive pudding the elves would be making for the last day of holidays. Talbott betted galleons to Fizzing Whizzbees that the pudding will have strawberry flavor, Y/N voted for lemon, and Tonks - for cherry.

The road was gradually getting covered in white. Snow was sneaking into their boots, and the wind was merrily propelling them forward.

Suddenly, when friends were walking past a small brome grass field (now frozen and covered in snowdrifts), a large snowball glided through the air, furiously whistling all the while. It crashed directly into Tulip’s hood and majestically exploded with snowflake glitter.

- What the %#!*i9&! - angrily cursed the Ravenclaw as she turned around in search of the culprit.

Tonks was standing a little further away, now mockingly tossing another snowball up and down.

- Haha. One-zero, Karasu. C’mon you guys, we can't just walk away from this much snow.

Tulip shook her head to get the snow out her hair.

- Well, you're doomed, you little pink-haired witch! - she yelled and lunged herself at Tonks.

- Look at yourself, you tomato head! - metamorphine shouted in response and dashed away from her friend, laughing uncontrollably.

Unable to resist such good fun, the rest joined the battle, which was about to become the greatest strategic snowball battle in the history of Hogwarts.

They split into 2 teams. While one of his teammates was distracting the others, Talbott would conjure gigantic snowballs and avalanche them onto the heads of enemies via Wingardium Leviosa. Meanwhile, Tulip sneaked up on Charlie using a disillusionment charm; she grabbed his red hair and dipped him into a snowdrift right up to his neck. Bill, suddenly filled with brotherly instinct, jumped in front of Y/N and covered her from a charge of Tonks’ snowballs with his body. This sacrifice, however, turned out to be utterly useless, as the very next moment Charlie doubled the snow artillery in her direction; so much so that he knocked Y/N’s cap off.

At last, they tumbled in Madam Rosmerta's pub as one noisy lump of fun and laughter: cold, wobbly and covered with snow, but lively and carefree nonetheless.

- A table for six, please! - Tonks demanded in a jolly voice.

- For six? M’dears… - a low pitched, cackle-like noise came from a table at the very door.

It was professor Trelawney who tremulously perked up from underneath her thousand and one sherry-scented shawls.

- I think I heard I ... saw that you wanted a table for six? But did you know, m’dears, that the ancient scroll of prophecy specifically says NOT to sit down at a table on the sixth day of lunar December, if you are a group of six? The last one to sit down will lose a friend on the very same night ...

The group of friends exchanged puzzled glances. Of course, no one believed in Trelawney's predictions, but it was still very uncomfortable to hear things like that.

- Here, please. - Madam Rosmerta appeared in front of them before anyone had the time to reply to the terrible omen. She led the group up to a cozy table next to the fireplace.

- Blimey! What rubbish this old blind cat is saying this time? - Tonks hissed.

- Nonsense, like the usual. Every tea leaf class she’s now predicting a painful and a horrible death for just about everybody. Woo-o-o-o! Some dark forces are hovering over Hogwarts… - Y/N mimicked professor Trelawney’s voice and gestures. - But when aren’t they?

- Right. - nodded Talbott. - Besides, no one has died so far.

- Uh .. Well, who wants to sit down last? - Charlie asked hesitatingly.

- I’ll go! - volunteered Y/N.

- Suit yourself. - shrugged Charlie and hastily sat down.

- You don't believe those silly predictions, do you, Charlie? - Tulip settled down on a nearby chair. - Take a look, there are so many people around here sitting in groups of six. This doesn’t mean they will all lose a friend overnight ...

- Numerologically speaking, it is simply impossible, - added Bill and sat down, too.

Tonks sat down next to Bill. Talbott thoughtfully gazed at Y/N for a moment, and then he silently joined the others. Y/N was the last one to sit.

Without listening to friends’ endless squabble about Trelawney's competence, she stretched her legs towards fire, feeling blissfully warm and tired. Today was such a good day. And Madam Rosmerta is about to bring butterbeer for everybody! ..

- While we’re here, - Tulip cleaned her throat, - we need to make sure that there is enough of the wonderful drink for each one of us.

She took out her wand and pointed it at the glasses with beer.

- Engorgio!

The glasses had grown twice in size. They weren’t glasses anymore, really - they were jugs.

Bill raised his jug in the air:

- Let's drink to friendship! - To loyalty! - To honesty! - To dung bombs! - To holidays! - To Hogwarts!

Comfortably nestled at The Three Broomsticks, friends were clinking their glasses and drinking, and then some more, and a little bit more. At last, when everyone started to feel the soothing and flushing effects of the caramel liquid, Tulip grabbed a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards from her coat.

- Alright, friends. How about we play some truth or dare? - she suggested.

- Since when does truth or dare require cards? - argued Charlie.

- Since today, you silly redhead. Highest card gets to ask. Lowest card gets to answer. I'll start, you chickens... Y/N, take one card, too.

Y/N stretched her hand forward and caught a card that jumped out of the deck. One moment later, the two girls smashed their cards onto the table. Charlie declared:

-Three of feathers and a phoenix. Hey, Tulip wins!

Tulip let out a wide mischievous grin.

- Y/N, tell us the truth then. Marry, flip, kill: Penny, Merula, Charlie.

Bill and Tonks immediately started to giggle and nudge each other with their elbows. Talbott and Charlie, on the other hand, straightened up in their chairs, leaned forward and stared at Y/N solemnly, without blinking.

After some thinking, Y/N tilted her head to one side and replied:

- Okay, I think I got it. I’d marry ... Charlie.

Tonks let out a loud whistle.

- I ... Uuhhh thanks I guess? - responded Charlie, blushing furiously.

- I would flip ... Merula. - continued Y/N.

- You mean you’d flip the greatest witch at Hogwarts? Ha-ha, that’s an interesting choice. - Tulip mightily slapped Y/N on the shoulder.

- Wow Tulip. - Talbott gingerly proceeded to remove Tulip’s hand from Y/N’s shoulder. - You pronounce “horrifying” differently than I do.

- Wait, so this means that you kill ... Penny? - Bill's jaw dropped in astonishment.

-Don’t get me wrong ... - explained Y/N. - She’s nice and all, but sometimes I get this feeling that she’s following me everywhere… and I mean everywhere. So yeah.

- Poor Penny. The sun-like creature who is always happy to see you. - Talbott chuckled. - And now, she has to DIE.

Their table shook from the loud cackling.

Brilliant! - Tulip clapped her hands. - The first round is over. Y/N, you won, now you get to choose who draws cards next..

Y/N chose Bill and Tonks.

- 7 of wands and 9 of stars! That was a close one, Bill. - Tonks’ face glowed up and her hair turned raspberry color. - So here is your dare, William...

- Oh no, no, no ... - Bill grabbed his red hair and started to crumple them.

- Don’t fret, dear Bill! I like you, so I will provide you with options... You can either ask Ismelda for a kiss or... you can kiss a garden gnome’s tummy!

Y/N and Talbott simultaneously snorted into their butterbeer glasses, almost choking on the drink. Bill, on the other hand, looked like someone had just asked him to drink a cup of newt’s goo.

- What bloody hell is this, Tonks ?? - he howled from annoyance and smashed his fists on the table. - There are NO gnomes in here!

- Most certainly there are. - Tonks replied calmly. - Take a peak at that table in the corner.

The table in the corner was taken up by Hagrid. He was quietly cooing with a small potato-like creature he had brought to the pub - apparently in secret from Rosmerta. At this very moment, he was feeding colorful Bertie Botts beans to the gnome.

- Merlin's saint underwear! - Y/N whispered reverently - It looks like Hagrid knitted a suit for him ...

And surely so, if one was to look closely, the gnome was dressed in a blue sweater and coarse-knit socks that were almost reaching the creature's thighs (if garden gnomes have thighs, of course). By some unknown coincidence, the gnome had no pants at all.

Bill looked at Tonks with the most touching expression Y/N had ever seen in his eyes.

- Can we play without the kisses?

- Hey, come on. I'm not asking you to kiss a Dementor, aren’t I? - Tonks just laughed in response.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss Ismelda)

I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I'll go out there and ask Ismelda for a kiss.

Charlie delightfully roared "Hallelujah!" and let a few green sparks out of the end of his wand. Tulip, Y/N and Tonks began to synchronously thump on the table and whisper: “Smooch! Smooch! Smooch! Smooch!”... Talbott threw his hands behind his head and settled himself more comfortably on the bench, getting ready for the spectacle.

... As a prisoner goes to be executed on a guillotine, that is how Bill Weasley was approaching Ismelda. The Slytherin gal was chatting with her fellow students at the bar.

- Check it out, it looks like she noticed him ... - Tulip started to comment on the action. - He’s telling her something ... great, they have contact! Come on, come on ....

- I almost feel sorry for him now - announced Charlie.

- Never let me forget this, ok? - Talbott smiled lazily.

Nobody else had the time to add anything because in the next second, the pub was filled with Ismelda’s shrilly wails, immediately followed by the ones of Bill. The girl, as one might expect, went absolutely berserk at Bill’s proposal and wacked him in the eye with all her mighty strength.

- Left hook! Fa-la-la…. A punch to the stomach! Fa-la-la ... And our hero returns ho-o- ome! .. - friends began chanting Bill's name merrily, with no tune or tempo whatsoever, which attracted even more attention to the oldest Weasley.

- Somebody please tell me why I became friends with a bunch of brainless doxies.. - Bill muttered under his breath as he was sitting down. He tried to say it with the most serious expression there is, but all the while his lips were quivering from a suppressed smile.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss the gnome)

- I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I choose to kiss Hagrid’s gnome.

- On the tummy! - abruptly corrected him Tonks. - Otherwise, you'll have to redo the dare!

- His tummy looks like pumice, did you know that? It’s crusty and hard and got some weird flakes falling off of it… And it smells just like my Great Aunt Tessie’s feet! - Bill exclaimed in anger.

- Stop whining! Just go already. While we sit here and enjoy ... - one could hear pure delight in Charlie’s voice as he was (for once) telling his older brother off.

Bill let out a sad sigh, got up from the table and started to make his way towards Hagrid. Apparently, the giant was not very happy to see him - the garden gnome would be considered quite a contraband for Madam Rosmerta, and she could forever ban Hagrid from The Three Broomsticks.

- Crickey, it's starting now! - excitedly squeaked Tulip.

The company stared at the show unfolding in front of them without blinking.

- Ah, it seems that the birds started chirping, can you hear? - Talbott said quietly.

- Fountains are sparkling, little hearts are flying in the air! - continued Y/N.

- Oh gosh, oh look! Oh, he’s kissing him!

As a matter of fact, it seemed like the angels themselves started crooning the moment Bill's lips softly touched the gnome’s belly button.

The friends doubled over with mirth. Tonks laughed so hard that butterbeer and snot started spewing from her nose.

But the gnome, as it occurred, did not like being distracted from his bean feast at all. The creature got even more upset as all the boundaries of his personal space were violated, and probably that’s why he suddenly growled and bit Bill’s nose. "Crunch!" - the sound echoed throughout the pub. Bill angrily yowled and burst out in obscenities. Now all the eyes in the pub were watching in his direction only.

- Yeh… What are yeh doing?! Stahp scaring the baby ... - Hagrid said gruffly and hid the gnome in his pocket. - Go back to yer’ friends, now, or he’ll start molting from stress .. And tis’ the worst, you know ...

Bill returned to their table, still rubbing his swollen nose in frustration.

- Oh, hey, Father Christmas! Did you bring us any gifts? - Charlie mused.

- I brought you a whipping, reptiloids... - Bill replied with the most serious face he could make, but his lips were quivering from a barely suppressed smile.

* * *

It was getting dark. While the group of friends was drinking and enjoying themselves at the pub, Hogsmeade was slowly being enveloped by velvet darkness. One after the other, the stars were lighting up. Here and there, windows of little shops and huts were blossoming in shades of orange. The garlands and wreaths, untouched after the holidays, were glittering with frost. Now there was cheerful music emerging from Madame Rosmerta's pub - those were the local musicians. They were playing flute, lute and tambone. One of the guests, who had a pig's snout instead of a nose, joined the musicians and started to grunt and beat on the drum. Many visitors picked up this joyous tune and began clapping and tapping to the beat - slowly at first, then faster and louder. One of the guests - a bubbly witch dressed in a lilac robe and a pointed hat - jumped from her chair, knocking over a mug of fiery whiskey, and began to dubstep dashingly with a goblin in a tweed jacket.

- Wowza, it's getting hot in here, - Bill said, wiping his beer mustache away. - Let's have the last round and head back. Talbott and Charlie, now it's your turn.

- My pleasure, - replied Talbott and drew a card.

Charlie drew a card with a higher suit.

- A perfect ending for a perfect day! As you can see, I'm a man of many talents, not only Quidditch. - Charlie boasted and gracefully ran his hand through his hair.

- Uh, yeah, except that quidditch sucks, - Talbott raised his eyebrows.

- You suck! - Charlie blurted.

- Mmm ... not as much as quidditch. - smirked Ravenclaw in response.

The young Weasley's cheeks turned so red that one could easily fry eggs on them if they wanted.

- Fine. Okay. If you do hate quidditch that much, maybe you’d care more for dancing? I dare you, Talbott Winger, to go out there and have the best time of your life on the dancefloor - yes, IN FRONT of the musicians! But of course I can’t let you suffer alone - sarcastically added Charlie. - Go ahead and invite someone to dance with you… if they agree to dance with a haircut like yours, that is.

Talbott squinted his eyes and examined Charlie’s face in disbelief.

- Uhhh ... I look cool.

- Pffft. Whatever you say. - the redhead let out a cheesy grin.

- I say I look cool. - Talbott replied calmly.

Tulip and Tonks audibly snorted.

- Now then… Who will be the lucky one to have the ultimate all-inclusive Talbott Winger experience? - asked Bill and started to tap his fingers on the table. The rest of the group picked on this beat and joined Bill, making the sound be a very accurate drum roll.

- Hmmm ... I know just who to take on this adventure. Y/N... would you like to dance with me? - asked Talbott and offered her a hand - I promise not to step on your toes more than three times.

- Oh? I thought you “fly solo”... - teased him Y/N as she was taking his hand and getting up from the table.

Talbott didn’t answer, just sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

The two entered the dance floor in an uncertain and shy manner. A new festive holiday song was just beginning. Another vocalist stepped onto the stage, bowed, and dimmed the pub lights with Nox . He then casually flicked his wand, created a few golden and silver wandering pellets of light, and then sent them floating around the pub. Soon, the music began to play, and the vocalist started singing in a heart-warming voice:

Last Christmas, I gave you my Hippogriff,

But the very next day, you gave it away...

Y/N felt that the majority of gazes were directed at her and Talbott - not at the singing wizard. What a strange feeling - to be in the spotlight. It got very hot; she felt a few sweat drops form and slide down her forehead. Talbott looked at Y/N with a weird expression on his face. He seemed to be slightly uncomfortable, too. Without changing his bewildered expression, he took Y/N's hands and placed them on his shoulders, then dropped his hands on her waist.

- Talbott ... I hope you know what you’re doing? - Y/N inquired quietly.

- What kind of question is this, of course I don’t know what I’m doing. - said Talbott with feigned confidence.

- Now I get it. You're winging it, Winger!

Both dancers burst out laughing. The tension was released. They began to move, jump and spin to the beat of the music. And even Merula's screams about how they looked like two prancing warty frogs could not spoil their mood. Maybe they weren't professionals and had no idea what they were doing, but they were having a lot of fun together.

The song ended. To Y/N’s great surprise, there was an applause from the audience! Someone from the crowd even threw them a bright, fragrant bouquet of orchids, freshly conjured from the air.

- For the record, I hate dancing. But it wasn’t all that horrible with you around. - Talbott said bashfully. - Maybe I should have gathered my courage and should have gone to the Celestial ... you know ...

Talbott and Y/N returned to the table, slightly out of breath after the dance and still holding hands. “Two brooos !! chilling at the Three Broomsticks! Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not friends!” - the others hollered and cheered and greeted the two back.

- Will you just shut up?.. - chuckled Y/N as she was letting Talbott's warm hand go.

* * *

It was time to return back to the castle. Friends were getting dressed in silence. All their wet clothes had almost dried up by the fire, and for those pieces that weren’t dry yet, they used their wands. Before leaving the pub, Y/N gave the bouquet to Madam Rosmerta. At the very exit, Trelawney's warnings came back to Y/N. It was so scary to think that on this night, according to the prophecy, she would lose a friend, and so she chased those thoughts away. As soon as the group stepped outside, contrast between the warm pub and icy cold air made them cough. Sniffing and cursing from freezing weather, they rushed towards Hogwarts down the snow-cleared path. This night was especially quiet: there was only the sound of snow creaking under their feet, and from time to time there came a bird’s distant cry.

- Bloody hell, we never bought anything, - Charlie complained in annoyance.

- Well… Let it burn, then. It will just be added to that list of four hundred things I have to do tomorrow ... or the day after ... or after.. or after .... - Tonks answered him with a loud yawn.

Friends were already approaching the doors of the castle when Talbott deliberately started to slow down. He stopped right in front of a path fork that was turning off the main road and leading to the owlery.

- Ummm... I need to send a letter to someone, - he said shyly, milling about the path. - Care to join me, Y/N?

“Hmm .. that’s a strange request, it’s practically nighttime... Something is fishy (pardon me, birdy) here.” - Y/N thought in her head, but out loud she only said:

- Uhh .. okay, sure. Let’s go.

After all, Talbott was her friend, and she had no reason to mistrust him.

The group of friends said their goodbyes and parted ways. Talbott and Y/N turned to the owlery. Tulip was waving at them a very long time after that, until their silhouettes blurred out, enclosed by the veil of snow.

Several minutes had passed since Talbott and Y/N were alone together. They were strolling down the path and talking about all sorts of things that happened during the past few days. The two of them were approaching the little towers of the Owlery rather quickly, and now only a small meadow was separating them from a brick staircase leading upstairs. In the summertime, the meadow was blooming with daisies and dandelions and was serving as a perfect playground for Puffskeins and Knarls. But now, the meadow seemed to have stopped in time: bare bushes were the only thing that was left from thick flowering plants; icy ground was tightly intertwined with fallen grass and wrapped in snowdrifts. Here and there, towered a few cedar pines, spruces, and chestnuts, but now they all were covered with white snow dust. For some reason, Talbott stopped walking towards the Owlery when they reached this meadow, and he began searching for something in his pockets. Finally, judging by the way his face lit up, he found what he was looking for. Aloof animagus beckoned Y/N closer. He was clutching something in his fist. As soon as Y/N approached, he opened his hand; there were two small luminous grains lying on his palm.

- What are these, Talbott? - said Y/N in quiet astonishment.

- These are midnight mint seeds, - he replied. - Professor Sprout gave them to me this Christmas.

- I have never heard of them…

- These are very rare. They can only be harvested once a year from underneath ash flowers. In places where you plant them, blood will never be shed again. - Talbott remarked in a lowered voice.

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at the grains. They seemed alive.

- Don't be afraid, touch them.

Y/N carefully raised her hand above the luminous grains and covered them with it.

- They’re warm! - not expecting that, Y/N let out a smile from ear to ear.

Talbott nodded. He looked straight into her eyes.

- I kept looking for an opportunity to plant them. Today seemed very special to me, and I decided to do it now. With you. If you want to.

- I ... of course I do! - Y/N’s cheeks and neck were rapidly getting covered with blush. - But aren't seeds planted in the fall?

- Not these. These should be planted in winter. They can only be planted under snow.

Y/N and Talbott knelt down and started preparing the soil for the seeds. They dug up a sufficient amount of snow, and then carefully placed glowing grains onto dead grass. They covered them with several layers of grey leaves and twigs, and then put a dense snow blanket above it all. But even through all these layers, the magic light of the seeds was shining through. Moreover, it seemed to have intensified and was now pulsating. For a brief instant, the pulsation stopped, and little blue stars began to emerge from under the snow, where the seeds were planted - similar to mini-fireworks. The stars took off and fell, crumbling and shattering into smaller pieces and dust. But the most spectacular thing that two friends were now hearing was... singing. It was a wonderful, calm and solemn melody without words. It was sung by the grains! Y/N had never heard such music before; she felt how her heart was opening up because of this melody. If someone had looked out of the Owlery window at that moment, then through the veil of a starting blizzard, they would have only distinguished a soft blue light illuminating two young faces floating above it.

The singing ceased; the blue light also faded away. Friends were silent for a minute, as if they were afraid to destroy the soothing feeling that the magical grains have produced within them. Finally, Talbott said in a hushed voice :

- You know, I didn’t actually need to send any letters. I just wanted to spend some time with you but without those dorks. So ... Thank you for being here with me.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he was smiling softly at Y/N.

- It was my pleasure, - she answered quietly.

Talbott rose and brushed the snow off his knees. He then reached out his palms towards Y/N to help her get up, but he did not let go of them after that.

- There was something else. Care for one more dance with me?

For the second time during that evening, Y/N and Talbott were dancing together. But this time it was so much different than it was in the pub!! Instead of all the noise and din of The Three Broomsticks, soft spruce paws were playing them a silent symphony of winter. It was a melody of silence, a melody of bright joy, a melody of snowflakes and wind. This melody cannot be heard unless one would actively try to listen to it. The snow was falling inaudibly. It was cascading from the sky in large flakes, performing a couple of waltz motions with the dancers, and then laying down on the ground and sparkling merrily under their feet. These instants were filled with a sense of miracle: without any magic or magic wands.

- You know, dancing like this is so much better than having to dance while hundreds of thousands of eyes are staring at you. - Y/N noted.

- Agreed.

Gradually, without noticing it themselves, two friends stopped dancing. They were now standing across each other, looking at individual snowflakes on their faces and hair. Every now and then, several small crystals would shiver and gravitate down, but they would never reach the ground as they would melt in a cloud of frosty haze from their mouths. It was very quiet now. Soft light was being reflected from snow and onto their cheeks, flushed from the cold.

- We might freeze this way. - said Talbot, slightly smiling.

Slowly and gently, he unwound his blue and silver scarf and wrapped it around his own neck first, and then around Y/N's neck; now their heads were even closer to each other, connected by knitted threads. Y/N could see his face much more clearly now. She could see glitter in his brown eyes, his every eye lash, every mole, she could smell the herbal scent of his shampoo ... she could even feel the warmth of his breath.

- What I actually wanted to tell you, Y/N, - Talbott said softly, - is that the longer I think about it, the more it seems to me that professor Trelawney was right about her prophecy.

- H-how do you mean? - stuttered Y/N.

- You’re about to lose a friend because I don't think ... I don't think that I can stay friends with you any longer ... I want to be much more than that, - Talbott whispered and leaned over toward Y/N's lips and kissed her.

It was a light, subtle kiss, but Y/N could clearly feel the warmth gently spreading among her skin. And then, another kiss followed … and one more ... and one more.

All the while, the snow was falling - soundlessly, tirelessly, tenderly.

* * *

Much later, after going back to her dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, Y/N had been sitting on a windowsill for a very, very long time. She was looking through a window, wreathed by frost: at the icy lake, at never-ending fields, covered with silver and at the...

First snow.

46 notes · View notes

unknowncountrygirl · 3 years

Text

Drunken Confession: Murphy

Jae arrived in his typical outlandish behavior, weilding two large bottles of Fire Whiskey.

“Look alive boys, our Thursday night just got a lot more interesting!”

“Where did-” Charlie started but waved his hand, “you know what, never mind, I don't want to know.”

“I got cups in my trunk! Gather round boys, it's going to be a good night! Hope you don't have anywhere to go early in the morning.” He summoned his and Murphy's side tables and put them back to back to make a small table in the middle of the room. He then placed the two, rather large bottles on the tables, and went to dig in his trunk.

“This is?” Orion questioned, picking up one of the bottles.

“Irish brewed Firewhiskey, aged in barrels for years. It's the good stuff.” Jae mentioned, placing a array of cups on the table.

“You and I have different ideas of what good stuff is.” Murphy eyed the amber liquid that Orion was sloshing around.

Charlie got off his bed and walked over, looking at the small shot glasses.

“So... You brought it for us all to try?” He asked innocently.

“I have something actually more interesting in mind.” Jae said slyly. “Unless you are all a bunch of softies.”

“Hardly.” Ben replied deadpanned, picking up the second bottle to crack it open, and began to pour it into the glasses, filling them to the top. “What were you thinking Jae?”

“We've all known one another years now, lets get to know each other a little bit better.”

“This is your way of just trying to get information from us that you can blackmail us with later.” Murphy looked up at Jae, feeling very suspicious of him. Jae said nothing, just smiled slyly and took his shot before pouring himself another.

“Take a drink if you have ever used a unregulated potion, I'll go first.” He took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Ben lifted an eyebrow, but played along and poured himself a drink before taking a drink. Charlie, Orion, and Murphy simply nodded as they were handed their own drinks, not touching the liquid to their lips.

“Take a drink if you've ever... Seen a dragon?” Charlie tried. Jae, Ben, and Charlie took long sips.

“You are going to have to include something that we have done.” Murphy almost pouted with a smile on his lips. “Like if you've been voted most dashing Quidditch Commentator.” It was silly, but an excuse to take a drink himself.

About 20 questions, some laughter, light conversation, and the entire first bottle of Fire Whiskey, most of the boys were starting to feel the effects. Ben and Jae held their liquor the best, more then likely because this was not either one's first time drinking underage. Charlie and Murphy were about one drink away from being completely gassed, and Orion was one away from finding world peace.

“Oh, I've got a good one.” Jae slurred slightly. “Take a drink if you've ever had a crush-” All the boys lifted their drinks, but Jae finished his thought, “on Iris!” They all laughed lightly, but the laughter died out when all five of the boys continued to take a shot.

Murphy and Charlie almost immediately sobered up, and Ben froze like a statue.

“Soooo, we have all had dreams of Iris Rosewood?” Orion clarified.

“Is that a question we are suppose to drink to?” Murphy questioned, looking down into his glass feeling suddenly as small as an ant. He had felt the weight of insufficiency before, but this made it all the more real. How in the world could he measure up to any of the boys in the group, especially Ben or Charlie who Iris had much more history with.

“More clarification, perhaps I shall word it this way...” Orion drawled, “if you have a crush on Iris.”

Again, the room fell silent as all five boys took another shot.

A couple of the cleared their throats, Jae coughed into his hand. It had become incredibly awkward, incredibly fast.

“This is uncomfortable.” Charlie broke the silence. “I'm going to uh.... Turn in.” The redhead stood up and quickly retreated to his bed and shut the curtains. Ben stood, mumbled something and actually left the dormitory.

“Fate had already decided for us, if one of us shall be with Iris, then we shall be,” he smiled in his wistful way.

Murphy, feeling slightly better at what Orion had declared agreed with him.

“You're right Orion, I think we are all good looking enough-”

“The problem you have Murphy, is not your looks or your ability as a wizard, it's the fact a romantic relationship requires sex.” Jae stated bluntly.

If he didn't already have a fire burning in his veins, that would have lit him up. He had never wanted to fight someone as bad as he did in that moment. The problem was Jae was tall, and fast, and Murphy was drunk. He poured himself another glass, finishing the second bottle and downed it in a couple chugs. He hoped that he would get rightfully wasted and forget this conversation had happened.

He did get rightfully wasted, but he did not forget the conversation and his brain supplied that he needed to take it to the source.

But that source was not in fact Jae.

Murphy cast a silencio charm on his chair and dumped himself into it rather clumsily, chuckling to himself as he wheeled out of the room.

He arrived at the girls dorm that he knew Iris and Skye shared. The year they had been sorted into Gryffindor there had only been three girls sorted, where there had been five boys, so the girls had much more space. He opened the door and saw two empty beds, and one that was being occupied by long white-blonde hair. Rowan's bed had a enchanted bouquet of flowers that he recognized from Iris's breeding flowers from her botany projects, and Skye's bed was messy and unkept while she was away visiting her dad for the Quidditch World Cup.

He rolled over to where Iris was sleeping and looked at her with a tilted head. She had soft rollers in her hair, and a mask over her eyes.

“Psssttttt.” He said, reaching a hand out to shake her shoulder. She visibly jumped and quickly reached a hand to her face, pushing her eye mask up onto her forehead.

“Murphy?” She asked groggily, “wha- what are you doing here? What time is it?” She reached out and grabbed her small bedside clock and looked to see it was near 2:30 in the morning.

“I CAN SEX!” Murphy yelled rather loudly, causing Iris to jump again, her clock clattering to the floor.

“Shhhh! Murphy, if McGonagal finds you in my room, alone, she'll have both our heads!” Iris reprimanded him.

“But I need you to know!” He yell whispered, “I can have sex!”

Iris looked at him with a quirked brow, and mouth slightly ajar in disbelief. It was too early for this and she rubbed her face, propping herself up on her arm to sit up a bit.

“Ok?” She questioned, “why did you find the need to tell me this at 2:30 in the morning?”

“Because!” He slightly tipped foreword, and Iris held out a hand to catch his shoulder so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. That was when she smelt the alcohol on his breath and caught how his pupils were dilated.

“You're gassed!” She exclaimed.

“I drank a little.” He held up two fingers extremely close to one another.

“You drank a lot.” She nodded in affirmation.

“A lottle.” He slurred with a grin. “But I needed to tell you, because Jae said I couldn't have the sex.”

“Ok? Jae's an idiot.” She murmured sitting straight up, seeing that this was not going to be a quick conversation and found herself wishing she had worn more to bed. She had a sweatshirt with the neck cut out and a short pair of athletic shorts on. When she says short, she means her butt cheeks play peek-a-boo and with Murphy's eyes being butt level it was a recipe for disaster.

“I would be better then Bill Weasley kind of sex!”

“You have got to stop shouting.” Iris shushed him again.

“I would be better then Bill Weasley kind of sex!” He whispered again.

“Good for you, I wouldn't know.” She told him, tossing her eye mask on her side table. Murphy looked surprised.

“But-but he gave you his sweater!”

“Yeah, because the house elves accidentally shrunk it.” Iris explained to him.

“And you two spent a lot of time together, AND you still sometimes go with him!”

��Yeah,” she nodded in affirmation. “Because he's one of my most beloved and trusted friends. We've been through a lot together.”

“But he's handsome!” Murphy practically cried.

“Yes, yes he is. Very handsome.” Iris smiled at Murphy's grief.

“Then how have you not...” Murphy held up his left hand in a circle and used his right index finger to make a motion referring to the deed. Iris laughed and shook her head, deciding that even in his drunken state that he deserved the truth.

“Because Rowan liked Bill.” She told him, “There were so many could have been's in her passing. Talking with Bill, I think they could have been something but we will never know.” There was a shakiness in her voice as she explained the situation to Murphy who had a puzzled, but pleased, expression.

“So you and Bill... You never were anything?”

“Just very good friends.”

“OHHHHHHHHH!” He cooed loudly, causing Iris to slap a hand over his mouth. His lips moved under her hand and for a second she thought he was trying to talk, but realized he was licking her.

“WHY ARE YOU LICKING ME!” She pulled her hand back and wiped her hand on her comforter. “Murphy, you are being weirder then I have ever seen you, what's up?”

“I like you Iris, and I want you to know...” He trailed off pointing a finger at her as he leaned dangerously close to the front of his chair. “That I can be just like every other guy.” Iris looked at him and while she wanted to take what he was saying with a grain of salt, she could tell there was a lot of truth to what he was saying.

“If you are referring to your personality, I like that you're different, and loud, and outspoken. You are my biggest cheerleader and it's nice to be built up rather then being the one who builds everyone else up.” Iris told him, wondering if he would actually remember any of this in the morning. “If you're talking about physically, it made me wonder a bit at first but I did some reading and came to my own conclusions that it would be different but not impossible.” There was a sound that caught Iris off guard, cackling, giggling girls and the shrill voice of McGonagal. “Crap!” She jumped up and out of bed to dig in her trunk and find her invisibility cloak. She flung it on Murphy and held her fingers to her lips. “Keep quiet!” She grabbed her wand and cast a silencio spell on her room and walked to the door, then opened to pear out.

McGonagal was walking up the stairs, her hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder and her night dress dragging elegantly behind her.

“Ah, Miss Rosewood.” She chirped. “I don't suppose you know why there is chatter amoungst the younger girls about a boy sneaking into the girls dormitory?”

“Uh, no?” Iris faked confusion. Thankfully, her hair was still in their soft rollers and she probably looked like she had just rolled out of bed. “Then again, I've been asleep.” McGonagal peered inside her dorm and saw nothing. Meanwhile Iris's heart pounded hard in her chest hoping Murphy would keep his loud mouth shut.

“Very well, as head girl, if you hear anything I expect you to take care of it and report to me, yes?”

“Of course!” Iris nodded as McGonagal headed to check on the rest of the younger girls. The blonde shut the door and grabbed her head, it was far to early for the raging headache she could feel coming on.

“OOOOGGGG I'M A GHOOOOST!!!” Murphy called from his spot near her bed. She was royally screwed. She couldn't get Murphy back to the boys dorms since McGonagal was sniffing around.

“Murphy, listen. I want to go to sleep.” She murmured.

“Oh no... You don't like me anymore!” He wailed.

“What? No? I just want to sleep, which is what you should be doing!”

“But I wanted to prove a point-”

“Murphy, we are not having sex. There will be no sex having tonight, especially while you're drunk. If we were to have sex, I would want you to be coherent, which you are not!”

“I am co-herant!” He slurred, the invisibility cloak sliding to the floor. “I can tell you the score rate of the Hollyhead Harpies-”

“Which is the only scoring there will be tonight.” She reiterated.

“I could be a good- no- great boyfriend! We could make pretty blonde babies!” He announced loudly. At this point she would humor him if it meant getting to sleep.

“Yes we would.” She nodded as she adjusted his chair next to her bed.

“Pretty pretty babies. Lots of them.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I think five.” He nodded to himself as if stating a fact.

“Might as well go for six, have half a dozen.” She put her arms under his and heaved him into her bed.

“Woah. I'm in your bed.”

“Yep.”

“Are we-”

“Nope.” She peeled his shoes off and placed them on the seat of his chair.

“You sure?” He asked, starring at the canopy of her bed.

“Absolutely.” She affirmed as she dug inside her trunk, finding an old pepperup potion deep inside. She popped the cork out and gave it a sniff, smelled fine enough. Iris placed it next to the bed where she had a half drank glass of water. “I need you to go to sleep.”

“Are we gonna sleep together?”

“For the last time, no.”

“No? But this is your bed!” He gestured towards her blankets and it clicked for her.

“Will you be quiet if I do?” She asked as she placed her hands on her hips. He nodded eagerly and she crawled in next to him, their hips touching, and pulled the blanket over them. She turned onto her side and met Murphy's alcohol induced gaze. He was starring at her in a way he had never done so before and there was a little ball of tightness in her belly.

She wondered how he would react to this entire situation when he woke up clear headed. Part of her hoped he forgot it, and the other part hoped he really didn't.

“You're really special, Iris.” He said, his voice full of raw honesty. It was a simple compliment but it made her smile.

“You're really special too, Murphy.” She reached out a hand and placed it gently on his face, then tenderly took a few fingers and lightly touched his face. Over each eyebrow, down his nose, across his cheekbones. It was a trick her mother had used on her when she was little, when Iris was tired but just wouldn't calm down enough to fall asleep. Her mother would do this and soon Iris would be sound asleep. She hoped it would work with Murphy.

It did, in what felt like seconds.

Iris took the same finger that she had delicately traced his features, across his cupids bow, and the line of his bottom lip. She let out a long sigh and hugged her pillow, squished up against him so she wouldn't fall out of her own bed as he began to snore.

Lovely, this was going to be a long night.

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

Murphy saw light trickling in the windows and blinked before crossing his arms over his face. His mouth was dry and tasted awful, his head pounded, and he felt like a right disaster. He could feel that he had apparently fallen into bed completely dressed, at least he got his shoes off-

He felt movement against his rib cage and he nearly seized. He managed to turn his head and open one eye open enough to look. Iris was still asleep, hugging a pillow against her tightly, breathing in steady deep breaths. Then the realization that he had gotten completely shit faced the night before came to the fore front of his mind.

How he had ended up in Iris's bed was a blank. He turned and saw a glass of water, which he reached out and chugged, and the pepperup potion. He did his best to sit up and not disrupt her in order to reach for the potion and down it's contents. His chair, to his horror, was out of his reach. He either had to fall out of the bed and crawl over to it, hope he could pull himself up into it all while being quiet enough not to wake Iris... Or wait for her to wake and have her help him.

Either option sucked.

Iris let out a sigh in her sleep and he turned to give her a look. He thought that whatever had happened, must not have been bad enough to make her mad at him, because they were sharing a bed. He also knew that nothing had happened in that regard as they were both still clothed.

Actually, he lifted the blanket and checked to see if they both still had pants on. He did, he couldn't see anything but Iris's stocky bare legs and horror filled his brain. Where were her pants.

The cold air on said legs must have been enough to chill her a bit, because there were suddenly blue eyes starring up at him.

They both just starred at one another, in thick, awkward silence and Murphy would have rather lit himself on fire.

“Good morning.” Iris finally said, clearing her throat.

“Yeaaahhhh.” He groaned.

“How's your head?” She asked as she shifted and propped herself up on her left arm, putting her slightly raised up higher then he was.

“Feels like I was hit by the night bus.” He ran a hand over his head and into his disheveled hair.

“Well fire whiskey will do that.”

“How bad was I last night?” Murphy asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Iris giggled a bit and smiled.

“You really want to know?”

“Oh Merlin's balls.” He crossed his arms back over his face, hoping that would block out the world. “Was I that embarrassing?”

“You really wanted to make sure I knew you could have sex-”

“Oh God!” He wailed, pulling a pillow out from behind him to try and smother himself.

“Actually you said I can sex, to be exact.”

“That's not even grammatically correct!” He grunted, “oh, God, did I lick you at one point?” Memories began to come in fuzzy tidbits. Iris laughed as she sat up and looked at him over her shoulder and began to take out her soft rollers, letting her hair cascade down her back. Her hair was long, extremely long, and while Murphy knew she did (you'd have to be blind not to see it) he had never really studied it closely. Even while curled a few of the locks almost touched the sheets of her bed in the position she was sitting in.

In a rare moment of self indulgence, Murphy reached and twirled a curl around in of his fingers. He had always loved her hair, from the first time he saw her on the Quidditch Pitch. She had it pulled into a french braid, and he had wheeled up behind her with a pile of books. She had unlaced her curls and waves from her braid and swished them in front of him like one of the most erotic dances that he had ever seen.

“I said other things last night.” He stated, “didn't I?”

“Nothing horrible-”

“I literally came to proposition you for sex. How is that not horrible?” He asked, rather angrily.

“You never actually propositioned, you just wanted to make sure I knew you could.” Iris twisted at her waist to look at him, unraveling the last of her soft curlers, which she had been piling on her second bedside table. “To which I replied that if we were to have sex, I would want you to be coherent. Which you were not.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow at her. If, she's not saying we would never. It was a sliver of hope.

“What else did I say?”

“I think you can guess.” Ah, so he had admitted his feelings. “I was worried you wouldn't remember that.” He zoned in on one word.

“Worried?” He asked, noticing a mild blush creep across her skin.

“Well... Yeah. I was hoping you would remember, it was nice to hear, I just wish it hadn't been with liquor in your system.”

“If you think liquor has a habit of making people less truthful-” He started.

“No, no, I know you were being truthful, I was just hoping you wouldn't try and back track this morning.” She moved her hips, and laid on her belly, propped up on her elbows, practically shoulder to shoulder with him now so they could look at one another.

“There isn't anything to take back, I said it, it's true. I just...” He trailed off.

“What?”

“I've been rehearsing what I would say if I ever actually told you my feelings for you and one of those things was that I can be just like every other guy. But the truth is I can't.” There was a vulnerability to him at that moment and Iris knew that this was not something he had ever really shared with anyone and she felt warmth spread at the knowledge that he trusted her that much. “I can't dance with you at a ball, or hold hands and stroll down the halls, when we kiss you'll have to bend down or be sitting, and... If we had intercourse, it would be limited. It's not a lie that I can,” he made a motion with his hand like he was looking for the right words, “it just won't be as easy or like it would be with someone who has control over their legs and hips. Then there's the judgement that would come with it, people would think you're either pitying me or worse, that you're some kind of sexual deviant and it's a weird kink!” The last sentence made Iris laugh.

“So what? When have I ever cared what the general public has to say?” She asked, “as for the other stuff, yeah it's going to be different, and I'm sure it will be difficult at points, but it's you and you're worth it.” She told him, reaching a hand up and placed it against the side of his face, her thumb running over the skin near the corner of his lips. “I don't care, Murphy, I really don't. I care about you, and what you think.”

“You are a gem in this world, you know that?” He asked, giving her a content smile. Iris moved, crawled, and laid her chest against his, running her fingers through his hair. She had never seen his hair disheveled, and she thought he was even more adorable then normal with his hair tussled. He lifted his head and caught her lips, just as soft and wonderful as he had thought they would be.

“How are you going to stay impartial during games now?” She teased him.

“Impartiality be damned.” He curled his fingers and ran his knuckles over her cheek.

“We should probably get up and get dressed, before any notices we're gone.” Iris told him honestly, if a bit sadly.

“I honestly don't care.” Murphy joked as he ran a hand through her long hair, tucking what he could behind her ear.

“Well, I do. I'm head girl and McGonagal will have my head if she finds me like this.”

“You mean with the most charming Quidditch commentator in your bed? I mean she would honestly be more disappointed with Quidditch gossip then anything else if we're being honest.” He winked at her as she pushed herself up and stood up, grabbing his chair to pull it close enough for him to get into.

“I'll meet you in the common room, and we can go down to the Great Hall together, sound like a plan?” Iris asked, picking up her invisibility cloak.

“Sounds perfect.” He winked at her as she tossed the blanket over him.

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

Iris and Murphy walked into the Great Hall, thankfully it was a Saturday and people were coming and going most of the morning.

“Iris! McNully!” A familiar voice called out and they turned to see Skye waving at them. “Come on! Do I have some stories to tell you!”

“We do too.” Murphy joked to Iris as they both went towards Skye. On their way, Murphy managed to pass by Jae. The two made eye contact for a moment before Jae looked back to see Iris. He narrowed his eyes at her before he looked back down at Murphy, who was grinning at him.

“Thanks for the Firewhiskey, Jae. Really took the edge off.”

Jae didn't say anything, but he seemed to understand what he meant and nodded. Murphy wiped the smile off his face and actually extended his hand to him, as an offer of a truce of sorts. Jae looked at him, quirked a eyebrow, but took his hand.

It was simple, and it was amicable. Iris smiled behind Murphy. Regardless, Jae was her friend and she didn't want there to be hard feelings. Murphy and Iris went on towards Skye, and Jae headed out of the Great Hall.

Iris sat down, and Murphy parked his chair, transferring himself onto one of the long benches. Once he was settled, Iris reached over under the table and took his hand, interlacing his fingers in hers. Murphy felt like this was one of the best feelings he had ever experienced. He looked over at Iris, Skye was prattling on about the Quidditch World Cup, but Murphy didn't hear a word. He was in his own little world and he was happier then he could ever be.

#hphm fanfiction #hphm murphy #hphm jacobs sibling #hphm imagine #hphm Murphy Mcnully #hphm fanfic

6 notes · View notes

howtotrainyouragents · 3 years

Text

Things I Noticed in the Hamilton Film

Soooo, I was supposed to have posted this last year when the film first dropped, and I forgot...

Anywayyyy, things that were new, from the album, or was obvious to everyone but me. This is literally just me listing details I loved for my own keepsake later on

I hope this film’s success (and the play’s hopeful continued success on stage), shows that Broadway plays can and should be filmed for everyone

Lin Manuel Miranda is a brilliant writer, scriptwriter, musician, rapper, singer, and a genuinely lovely person, but I think my favorite part about him is his acting. He has such a pure naturalness and sincerity in his acting. He nails microexpressions/gestures and sometimes I forget that he’s acting

E.g., Lin’s devastation after Washington kicks him out

There’s some songs I wondered what their purpose was, but watching it I understood. For example, Story of Tonight sets up the purpose of the revolution. Like, My Shot is Hamilton’s ‘I want’ song, but Story of Tonight is all of the revolutionaries ‘I want’ song, and that’s why it comes up again for Laurens and Hamilton at their ends

Samuel Seabury’s acting was gold

In Right Hand Man the way the backup stage/cast lights up as they sing ‘not throwing away my shot” and Hamilton agrees to work for Washington

The fact that Helpless ends with “You’ll be a new man” because Hamilton is still so obsessed with his own ascendency

HOLY FUCK RENEE ELISE GOLDSBERRY

They way they start Satisfied, it’s like Angelica doesn’t know the true extent of her devastation until she gives her toast and says “satisfied”. Like, she knows what she’s done but she’s still thinks this is fine and this is for the best, and it’s not until this moment that the weight of it fully hits her. By the end of it, it’s like she’s barely holding it together for this toast

Towards the end of the song, Eliza kisses her cheek and Renee’s expression is like she’s about fall apart in that very moment from the sheer overwhelming joy and pain

So in Helpless when their talking about letters, Peggy does a cute random shimmy while handing Eliza the letter. But then in Satisfied we see that she’s doing the shimmy to the beat of Satisfied, meaning that she knows how Angelica feels and knows about the love triangle

I’m trying really hard not to scream about the rewind of all the dance and action in Satisfaction but please know I am internally screaming about this forever.

Almost forgot, Burr and Hamilton were friends at one point. Burr shows up for his wedding to wish him well :(

I wasn’t gonna scream that much here, but LESLIE ODOM JR.

Leslie’s smile- amused and scoffing disbelief- when singing about Hamilton in Wait for it

Speaking of Wait for it, the way the whole cast is waiting on stage and the balconies as Burr sings. and the way the dancers shift to Hamilton’s direction when Burr talks about him

Also the lighting creates boxes on the stages, like Burr is trapped. But then this reappears in Your Obedient Servant

I never knew the lyrics were “This is commonplace, 'specially 'tween recruits” and not “’tween corps” in Ten Duel Commandments...makes more sense

I think there’s 10 people in that line up in Ten Commandments

The way Stay Alive conflicts Hamilton’s precious notions of sacrifice, and forces him to shift his focus from dying to legacy

The mimic of the bullet in Stay Alive

The way that Eliza is also so excited about the war and the scholars in The Schuyler Sisters and that excitement goes away after she has the actual risk of losing someone she loves because of the war

Who’s the choreographer because DAMN (btw it’s Andy Blankenbuehler)

Also the dancers lifting up other dancers for whole bars? Incredible

The way women are interwoven into the story of the war, singing the chorus and setting the scene and rejoicing with the soldiers at the end

The fucking red lighting in Yorktown. Also, the shot in the song’s pause is one of the best shots in musical history.

The fact that ‘black and white soldiers wonder alike if this really means freedom’ ‘not yet’ is a commentary on slavery and the line is said by Washington

The brilliant way What Comes Next undercuts the gravitas of Yorktown .

Also, King George loses more and more of his costume and moves around more as the show goes on. Also, blue lighting with “I’m feeling blue” hahaha

Lafayette and Hercules getting the same letter about Laurens + Hamilton’s sobbing. And Laurens’ singing ‘there will be more of us’, referring to the future generations who will fight and win abolition.

Nonstop:

Burr’s disgust while Hamilton rants. Hamilton’s pouting then childish glee at the beginning

Burr stays at the bottom of the staircase after Hamilton climbs it. Also, Jefferson descends the staircase after Hamilton ascends it, indicating their statuses

The refrain of “How does a....” shows up in Nonstop as Burr’s “How do you write...” (other characters sing their own personal refrains but Burr sings this), and it’s like this ongoing, jealous, incredulous questioning of how Hamilton became so successful, and part of the answer of how he did it is that he doesn’t stop writing and working.

Regardless of which sister he ended up with, love was never gonna be enough for Hamilton

The way Daveed Diggs jumps and dances and dives across the stage in just about every song he’s in. The man truly deserved the Emmy

Jefferson’s being surrounded by his slaves because he sucks

Hamilton’s costume goes from white --> brown-->blue-->green-->black and someone with more color scheme expertise needs to dissect this for me please

The fact that even Burr peaces out when it comes to the affair, like, nope, this is too messed up even for me

An in-universe explanation as to why the Ten Duel Commandments and Phillip’s count is the same is that Hamilton’s killing (metaphorically and literally) in order to stay alive is a part of their family’s DNA.

Anthony Ramos is phenomenal at playing 9 years old then having to switch to 19

The fact that Phillip was probably so determined to defend his father is that this is after the Reynolds Pamphlet and everyone was humiliating and scorning Hamilton

The Room Where it Happened

Hamilton is like an apparation to him, and Burr is both scared and begging the ghost to reveal the truth

The fact that this song is a plot song and a ‘i want’ song and a villain song all at once. Also, the song picks up speed to signal the shift from historical recounting to ‘i want’ song

They replay the beginning where Jefferson/Madison call for Hamilton

Jefferson being the one to ask “Don’t you remember Lafayette”, and there’s like a slight change in his demeanor that’s more Lafayette then Jefferson

Burr, Madison, and Jefferson discreetly talking to each other in Washington on Your Side representing their nefarious schedming. Also, Daveed Diggs keeps Jefferson’s limp even without the cane. Also Madison is angry at Hamiilton when he says “the bill of rights, which I wrote!”

One Last Time:

How perfectly the Bible verse reflects Washington’s opinion of legacy. The younger men are obsessed with preserving their own memories in history, but for Washington, his legacy would be that everyone would be safe and at peace.

Washington’s practically crying at the end

Hamilton asking Washington here to teach him how to say goodbye because Hamilton genuinely doesn’t know how: people left him before he could ever say goodbye

We Know: Jefferson’s pure WTF face when he says “my God...”. In this reaidng, Burr definitely threatened him (I didn’t always intepret that way when listening). But Hamilton’s still an idiot.

Hurricane: Once again, Lin’s facial expressions. The way the the chorus stands around and watches him. But also the freaking brilliant way that the dancers mimic the hurricane, and Burr and Maria are the only other people in the hurricane with Hamilton. But at the end, it’s just Hamilton and the desk

Reynolds Pamphlet: The way Washington can’t even look at him, but Angelica gets in his face to yell at him. Also, Jefferson hands a pamphlet to the conductor

This reading, Phillippa Soo sings Burn with so much rage and fury and that is pretty much my favorite part of this entire film

Hamilton’s face at “Alexander, did you know?”

The fact that Angelica narrates Uptown because it’s too intimate for Burr or anyone else to narrate. Eliza’s changing facial expressions as she slowly lets him in. The way Hamilton just completely breaks down and sobs

The Election of 1800:

Jefferson shaking his head when Madison suggests Hamilton

Burr’s falseness is hilarious. He hands Hamilton a pamphlet.

Jefferson’s look of resignation when Hamilton is making his decision, then starts dancing around when he’s won

The close-up of Burr’s face falling when he realizes who Hamilton has voted for

The whole “runner-up becomes VP” thing made me think about if we could have had Hillary Clinton as VP, and I made myself sad.

Your Obedient Servant: I always saw this song as a reflection of the custom, but I never fully appreciated how it reflects their relationship: their relationship has completely disintegrated, but their working to maintain this false appearance of friendship/civility that no longer has a place in their relationship.

Also, Burr’s increasingly incensed and it does not help that Hamilton sends like a 12-page letter and the dancer even teases Burr

The guy who gives Hamilton Burr’s duel challenge plays Charles Lee. Karma

The World Was Wide Enough

Burr’s POV then Hamilton’s POV, like this story has become less and less about Hamilton and he is no longer in control of who’s telling his story

The shot of Eliza walking away and in her wake, it’s Burr shooting

Burr’s alone in the stage, finally realizing the world (aka the stage) was wide enough for the both of them, but it’s too late. Also, in part foreshadowing his own future: that he had the world before him regardless of Hamilton, but he was completely ruined after this duel

I definitely cried at ‘the orphanage’. Also I interpret the gasp at the end as her breaking fourth wall and seeing the audience and realizing that Hamilton’s legacy has continued even to today.

#hamilton #i know it's cool to hate hamilton now #but i dont #so forgive me for putting this on your dash #agent report #agent h

4 notes · View notes

sopewriters · 4 years

Text

Mιɳԃ Gαɱҽʂ | 01

Summary: With a murderer prowling the streets, and a charming villain on the loose, all bets are off.

Pairing: Jaehhyun X Reader; Hero x Villain AU

Word Count: 4.9K

Warning(s): None yet.

“Run the tape again.”

The screen flickers dimly, lighting up your gaunt features. Every part of you screams of exhaustion, as it should – you’ve hardly gotten any sleep all night. Your fingers tap against the desk in front of you, restless, and it takes everything in you not to bounce your leg.

The man beside you – your partner – looks at your tense jaw, pursed lips, and frowns. “You can take a break for tonight, you know. I doubt they’ll come back so soon.”

“But you don’t know that.” You correct harshly, making him recoil. Guilt stabs at you, and you sigh. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry Mark, I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

Mark smiles at you, and you only now notice the pallor of his cheeks, the shadows under his eyes. Your partner hasn’t gotten anymore sleep than you have. With a large, cracking yawn that could probably split a lesser man’s face open, you shake your head.

The protest – or lack, thereof – building on Mark’s lips immediately dies, and he exhales heavily.

“This guy is unreal.” He comments, dropping back into his seat beside you. “How does he avoid the cameras so well? They were even set up so no one would be able to dodge them – is this his Gift, do you think?”

You cast a wry glance at him, then. “No, Mark, we both know for a fact that his Gift isn’t invisibility. Remember the one time he made some sort of illusion to throw the cops off his trail?”

“Ah, right.” Something like awe passes quickly over his face, though he’s careful to school his expression at your chiding glance. “I forgot.”

“Funny, you were gushing about how wicked Joker was for weeks.” You nudge him lightly, a tiny grin on your lips – probably for the first time tonight. “It was cute.”

His cheeks immediately flush – adorable – and you wish there were better lighting so you could see them better.

Unfortunately, being a superpowered vigilante can really cast a wrench in your budget. Not everyone can be a millionaire-cum-superhero, no matter how much they’d love to be. And balancing the criminal nightlife with your actual life… well. University has always been particularly unforgiving.

“______…” He grouses, burying his face in his palms as you laugh. “Why’re you always so mean to me?”

“You just make it really easy.”

“ ______!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

Mark huffs out a breath, pushing away from the desk and standing up to flick on the light. “I’m not even gonna bother. I know you aren’t going to drop it!”

“You’re – oh my fucking god, turn the lights back off!” The measly light you do have is still blinding, making your head almost ache from how bright they are. “Mark!”

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” He laughs, dodging one of your well-timed swipes. “Alright, I’m going to jet before you actually manage to hit me again. Please try and get some rest? We’ll go over this again tomorrow.”

He looks at you imploringly.

You laugh fakely. “Oh, yeah, of course!”

Mark sighs, resigned, and gives you a waning smile as he moves to leave. He pauses, briefly. “We should really find a new HQ.”

You look around at your converted closet, thinking he’s not wrong. But, again, life isn’t quite like the movies and you don’t really have the money to spare on much beyond your daily necessities. Frozen food isn’t quite as cheap as it used to be around these parts. If anything, you’re lucky you have a walk-in closet large enough to accommodate a small desk, especially in your dorm.

Going to an expensive college in a rich part of town does have some benefits even if, tuition aside, you’re financially on your own.

“We’ll see,” you mumble tiredly, head thumping softly against said desk. “You know how tight our budget is.”

“Yeah, I do.” Mark looks apologetic, giving you a quick wave before he’s stepping out, likely heading back to his own room.

Now that he’s gone, though, your place is entirely too quiet, and it really puts you on edge. At least Mark turned the light on, earlier – you might as well credit him for that – so it’s not as creepy as it could be. But still.

You turn back to the monitor, mouth pursing into a frown as you watch the slight flicker of shadows – the criminal’s only trail. Something about this guy doesn’t seem all that right, and it’s seriously making you paranoid. You’ve never interacted with him, though – that, as it seems, only really happens to the licensed superheroes in your sector – but there’s just something about him…

You turn off the monitor with a sigh, wondering why on earth you’ve stupidly chosen to deal with this guy, of all people. You ignore the little niggling in the back of your mind that tells you that you’re really just trying to put off real-life responsibilities by taking unnecessary tasks upon yourself; that’s totally not true, no. What – why would anyone think that?!

You duck your head out of your closet, tentatively stepping out into your actual room. There isn’t much in there; just your bed, a cabinet for your papers and files, and a dresser in which your clothes actually go. Most of the place is just free space, honestly, and you could have your whole hero setup here, but… secrecy is important. And your closet is a lot more private than your room itself, for obvious reasons.

“ ______ !!” The door slams open, and your enraged best friend storms inside.

Case in point.

“Hey, F/N…” You say awkwardly, leaning against your bed so you can look at her fuming face. “Um. Fancy seeing you here?”

“Why aren’t you in bed?” She pinches the bridge of her nose, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. “It’s almost midnight!”

“Why aren’t you asleep?” You counter, eyes catching onto her mussed hair, puffy eyes. “I was so quiet; how could I possibly have—?”

“Mark.” She says simply, to which you inwardly groan. Of course. Mark “Clumsy” Lee lives up to his name, yet again. “Are you sure you two aren’t dating? He’s been over for whole nights before.”

“What, are girls and guys not allowed to spend the night without dating or screwing around?” You snap defensively. Too defensively, judging by the smirk forming on her face. “No. No, no, no. Whatever bullshit you’re going to spew at me right now, save it, because I sure as hell won’t like it.”

“I’m just saying, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” she sings, ducking to narrowly avoid a pillow projectile. “It’s not a big deal! Mark’s super cute.”

“And you can have him.” You mutter in response, shuddering at the thought of dating him. Being in close quarters has really educated you to some of his more… quirky habits, and you couldn’t ever deal with that on a permanent basis. Plus, he’s not really your type.

F/N just rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, pretend all you want. I know the truth though.”

“Is there something you actually need?” You level her with a flat stare. “Or are you just trying to snoop in on me?”

She smiles guiltily, like the guilty person she is. It might as well be branded on her forehead, G-U-I-L-T-Y, and you really hope she trips over one of her stupid pencils and stumbles down to hell.

What? You can be petty if you want to be, and it’s all in your head anyway. No one will ever know.

“No, there’s nothing important.” She assures you, though you really don’t need her assurance. “I just… worry about you sometimes, you know?”

“Well gee, thanks for making my night a whole lot better with that vote of confidence.” You mutter, sarcastic as ever, though your subsequent words die on your tongue at her sharp look.

“Relax, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to know if you were going to go to bed, or if you couldn’t sleep or something.” She shrugs. “I’m being rebellious and staying up past my bedtime.”

Well.

You grin sharply at that. Maybe she can stay in the land of the living for a little longer. You take back everything you thought just a few moments ago. “Oh, have I been waiting for this day.”

So. Staying up last night was possibly the worst decision you’ve ever made. Your eyes feel like they might just pop out of their sockets any moment now and the only thing that could possibly make this better is a good cup of coffee. Or, even better, two.

But life, as always, is cruel.

“I hate you.” You mutter at your coffee pot, squinting angrily at it through stinging eyes. “You had one fucking job.”

Yep. The coffee pot, as fate would have it, has completely broken down – just to deprive you of your life, of course, no big deal. Who even needs to be awake for their 8AM discussion anyway, right?

“Stupid, useless hunk of garbage, I should just melt you down already.” Your fevered death chant follows you all the way to the front door as you sling your backpack over your shoulder. It stops there, though, because you’re too tired to keep it up.

F/N’s lucky she doesn’t have to wake up early today, and you angrily curse her in your head because goodwill? It’s all gone now. Maybe she’ll get a really bad case of the Hiccups. Maybe it’ll be terminal Hiccups.

You cringe at your own deviousness.

You manage to bike all the way to class without perishing which, in your books, deserves a gold star. You don’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve somehow managed to not get hit by a car, or a bus, or a truck, or another bike, or a pedestrian (though you wouldn’t really mind that last option. People really need to stop looking at their phones while they walk, holy shit). It’s a miracle, truly.

Maybe it’s because you’ve got to attend a Classics discussion; shockingly, it’s one of your more bearable classes. Scratch that, it’s possibly one of your favorites. You might be a STEM major, but the way they discuss mythology in this class really gets to you.

And, of course, there’s your TA too. He’s probably one of the kindest, sweetest people you know – and that’s saying something, given that you know Mark and are even acquainted with Wong Yukhei, the Student Council VP. No, you don’t know how that happened and, frankly, don’t care to find out either.

“Hey there, ______.” You look up at the sound of your name, seeing your TA cock his head at you a little quizzically. “You okay? You seem a little out of breath.”

Yeah, it’s no big, I practically just pulled an all-nighter and biked all the way here using the mothballs that are my eyes, with the level of coffee running through my bloodstream hitting a critical low. It’s fine, it’s totally fine! And if you weren’t the unobservant piece of crap, sweetheart you are, I’d feel a hell of a lot better—

“I’m fine.” You make an effort not to let your gasps for air grow too obvious, giving him a strained smile. “I just, um – just biked here.”

“Ah, I see. You can come inside, you know, sit down.” He holds the door wide open for you, letting you slip inside. “Do you have water? Would you like me to get you some?”

He gives you an appraising look. “Though, something tells me you need something stronger? Coffee, maybe?”

He holds up a thermos, shaking it gently with a questioning look on his face; and, on cue, your mouth begins to water. You need it. You must have it.

“What gave it away?” You chuckle weakly, before shaking your head. “No thanks, Jungwoo, but I appreciate it.”

You last remaining braincells cry, extremely sorry for your loss.

Jungwoo sighs, “I don’t mind sharing, ______, trust me. I promise I didn’t poison it or anything, and I won’t give you much – just a tiny cup.”

He pours some out into the cap of his flask, offering it to you. You stare at the beautifully crafted drink of perfection, steam gently curling off it, and wonder if Kim Jungwoo is a god. He must be, with this sort of impeccable timing.

Still, you’d feel a little awkward taking a drink from a TA that you actually don’t know all that well. That… might not be a good idea.

“I’m really fine.” You smile tightly at him. “I promise. Thank you, though.”

But why?! your brain cells demand, and you don’t have a satisfactory answer for them.

“If you’re sure.” He shrugs it off easily, smile never dimming. He’s pretty cute when he smiles – basically, all the time – but he isn’t really your type.

You think back to the crush you used to harbor on Yukhei. Your cheeks burn when you remember that you still find your gaze fixed to his long, slender fingers on more than one occasion – but you can’t help that. He’s just… too much. It’s unfair, really. But yeah, that’s your type. Tall and handsome, and unfair.

Great, and now you’re thinking about Jung Jaehyun.

You settle back into your desk and will your blush away as you begin pulling out a notebook and a pencil. You don’t usually take notes during section – not unless you’ve got some big essay coming up that he’d review in class – but it gives you something to do instead of just sitting idle.

You quickly sneak a peek at Jungwoo and, seeing that he’s preoccupied leafing through some of his notes, play a game of Catch the Pen. You locate the nearest shadow and guide your pencil through it, propelling it with enough of a velocity for it to hurtle out of another shadow to nestle comfortably between your fingers. It’s basically like playing catch with yourself.

And yeah, it got boring after the third or fourth time, but your only other option is using your phone, which – hey, not a bad idea. A quick scroll through your social media has you holding back your coos when you see videos of cute puppies attempting to do even cuter things. God, do you love dogs.

It’s only when Jungwoo raps his fist against his desk – a cue for all of you to start paying attention – that you notice that the empty desks from before have all been filled up. You quickly stash your phone in your back pocket, before leaning forward on your desk, settling your cheek in the palm of your hand as you force yourself to pay attention.

Ah, damn it. Your eyes still sting.

“Good morning guys!” Jungwoo beams at you, entirely too cheery for your tastes, given that it’s eight in the fucking morning. “How were your weekends?”

Your mind flashes back to your weekend, and you suppress a wince. Yeah. That was… not a good time, especially for the vigilante Caligo – for you. After getting your ass pummeled by a random guy in a mask – a random guy who you think just might be Joker, thief extraordinaire, and the person who you were watching through the footage last night – you weren’t really having a great time.

Not to mention your purpled cheek, courtesy of a deck to the face. You bruise like a peach and you’re really fucking lucky that F/N has a healing ability and a penchant to not ask difficult questions. She probably thinks you’re getting caught up in some shady business – drugs, maybe? – and honestly, that wouldn’t be too far from the truth, if a little exaggerated.

Jungwoo, luckily, takes the grumbled mutterings from the rest of your class that perfectly encapsulate your weekend experience in stride, beaming excitedly and holding up a faded copy of the translation of Ovid’s The Fall of Icarus. “Well, nothing better than this to turn that around, yeah?”

You hold back a sigh as you flip to the page he’ll inevitably bring up. You’d rather read about Icarus, who the book’s title deceptively alludes to, than the rest of these short stories. But, well. As life would have it—

“Let’s talk about what happened with Theseus and the Minotaur, shall we?”

A part of you is grateful that you’ve managed to survive most of your day, and it’s really only the thought of going to your chem lab that makes you perk up.

Now, don’t be misled; you still hate having to go to lab. The actual practice, in itself, isn’t all that hard, but the fact that you have to do it at all is just so ugh. Frankly, you’re only going because it’s required for your major, because fuck chemistry, and doubly fuck organic chemistry. It’s all just way too stressful.

But, well, back to the main point: lab is only really fun because you get a whole two and a half hours to fully appreciate some A+ eye-candy. Not that you would ever actually want to objectify him that way, but your TA is just so gorgeous that it’s unfair, really. Just a smile from him could have you tripping over your feet and potentially spilling dangerous chemicals all over yourself.

As it is, you’ve managed to survive so far, if only to irritate F/N with your very accurate description of how sharp his jawline is, how his dimple is to die for, how he just looks so dependable and warm and—

“Hey Jaehyun.” You greet him as you wait outside the lab. No one’s really allowed in until your TA – Jaehyun, basically – lets you.

Jung Jaehyun, AKA “God who has literally descended from the Heavens to bless your undeserving soul”, smiles at you and – aw, yeah, there it is. That fucking dimple. Paired with his soft, unassuming smile, and the reassuring warmth of his eyes as they look at you through the soft fringe of his hair—

Deadly. That’s what he is.

“Hey ______, how’s it going?” He greets cheerily, not unlike Jungwoo earlier. The only difference is that it’s actually a humane hour of the day right now; a little past noon as opposed to oh, you know, the crack of dawn. You still hate any and all sunlight, no doubt about it – especially with the night lending itself to your element – but at least you’re somewhat awake now.

Jaehyun fiddles with the keyhole before pushing the door open. Is a lab coat supposed to look this good on a person? You aren’t sure.

“It’s pretty meh.” You offer him a shrug and what you hope is not a dorky smile. “Just stressed, you know.”

“Oh, I figured.” He nods, raising an eyebrow. “Apparently Professor Kim’s being super hard on you guys for this first midterm and, I won’t lie, with her past record…” Jaehyun winces. “Yeah, things might be a little stressful. But you’re capable, and I know you can do it with the right amount of hard work and effort.”

Then, like he hasn’t just sprung an unwarranted pep talk on what’s left of your dreary soul, he disappears behind the door. You stare at it like it’ll give you the answers racing through your mind; what the fuck, how the hell does he know exactly what to say, how the fuck is he always so gorgeous…? etcetera, etcetera.

Immediately, you pull out your phone and text F/N.

You:

Oh my fucking god, I think Jaehyun and I just had a moment

Not like a Moment but he literally just gave me the best pep talk in my life, 5 stars on yelp

Jaehyun’s my TA btw

Checking the time, you impatiently rock forward on the balls of your feet, biting at your lips. You figure that, maybe, instead of constantly thinking about how gorgeous Jaehyun is, you should probably also start thinking about the experiment for today. It’s just some simple identification tests, thank goodness, but those could take a long time – especially if you have to share your resources with the rest of the class.

Sharing is caring, they say and they’re wrong. Sharing, in most cases, is essentially just shooting yourself in the foot, and you’ll stand by that until the end of time. You used to share everything – even your heart – after all, and where did that get you?

You shove all of that away, filing it into the mental Untouchable cabinet and locking it up. You’re a busy person now, and you can’t waste time delving into the past. For all your bravado and bluster, though, you just… sometimes feel like you always make the worst decisions for yourself and you’re just tired of having to put yourself through the same things again and again. Like – like clockwork.

The door cracks open, and Jaehyun pokes his head outside. “Huh, that’s weird. No one else is here yet?”

A quick glance around you shows you that no, there really isn’t anyone else here yet. What the fuck? You check your phone, though, and see you still have ten minutes before lab actually begins. Ah, yeah, that makes a lot more sense now.

“You can come in anyway.” Jaehyun grins at you charmingly, and you dimly wonder if he knows the effect he has on people, with how easily he throws that smile around. “Maybe get set up? You can’t start before the rest of your class is here, obviously, but you can still be prepared.”

“Of course!” You beam at him, a little shocked at how easy it is to smile at him. With how things have been going, with both your personal life and – ehem – line of work, this is actually nothing short of a miracle.

Jaehyun really is a great guy and you think to yourself, a little sadly, that whoever gets to date him is a really lucky person. It’s not like you expect for life to work out like a fairytale with you as the persevering royal protagonist who gets the prince she’s only ever dreamed of.

Oh, you wish though. Sometimes, you even wish you had the power to make wishes come true instead of the shadow manipulation that comes so easily to you. When you think about it, you immediately discard the thought; you’re happy with your Gift, though it does get a little tricky navigating its faults.

Faults that Joker took advantage of over the weekend, obviously. You seriously screwed that one up though, to be fair, you kind of had to get home pronto to finish up your biology lab report. Still, a screw up is, ultimately, a screw up. It’s not going to change just because you slapped some excuses onto it.

Your fingers spasm, clenching tightly around your lab notebook and digging into its spiral binding as you remember, all too vividly, what happened over the weekend; the way Joker just slid out of your bindings and smirked at you, lips brushing against your ear as he revealed it was all a lie—

The spiking pain in your hand forces you to let go of your book, allowing it to drop onto the table with a muffled thump. It was all your fault, really, for not realizing that, since Joker had a Gift that allowed him to make illusions, he would obviously take advantage of it to distract you.

You were such a fucking idiot.

“Hey.” Your lab partner slides into the seat beside yours, effectively distracting you from thinking about your Weekend Failure some more. “Please tell me that I’m not the only one who thinks that the data for this lab report was ridiculous.”

“You’re not.” A light smile pulls at your lips and you try to forget about everything else. “It was pretty crazy.”

It’s not until you step out of lab a few hours later, blinking the sun out of your eyes, that you see that F/N’s finally responded to your texts.

Wifey!! <3:

i’m glad he was so kind to you!

and yeah babe, i think you’d realize i know who Jaehyun is by now

you’ve only mentioned him a billion times

you’re such a puppy

You:

He was really nice man, he made me feel like I could actually do this

I mean idk how long it’ll last but it’s nice of him to even try ;-;

And I think you’d realize I know I’m a puppy by now

You’ve only told me, like, a billion times

Let it be said that you’re never one to let the opportunity to be petty go to waste.

A week later, you’re sprinting up the street between your favorite Thai place and the café F/N likes to frequent, short puffs of breath escaping your lungs into the cold night air. Your worn sneakers slap against the concrete as you try to find a secluded location for you to change covertly into more appropriate ‘crime-fighting’ clothing, when your frantic gaze lands on a relatively abandoned alleyway.

Key word: ‘relatively’, because there’s really only a cat in there, of course.

“Fuck yeah!” You whisper triumphantly under your breath, stepping into the shadows cast by the nightlights, letting their familiar chill wash over you, twist its way around your waist and seep under your skin, a comfortable, cool pressure—

And you’re out again, a couple of blocks ahead of where you started, and sprint up the street, jumping shadows to the second floor of a building, from where you see figure flying overhead.

You smirk. Right on time.

“Hey! Mind giving me a lift?!” You holler up, and with a flick of his wrist, you’re being lifted off your feet, propelled to the very top of the building. A grin pulls at the corner of your mouth, and you give in as you zip along after the figure ahead, who’s dressed in dark blue. “Thanks G!”

Gravitas – Mark – spares a look at you through his mask as he runs ahead, leaping gracefully over to the next building. “Hey Caligo!”

A grin pulls at the corner of your lips through your own mask, fully visible since it only extends to the bridge of your nose. He wants to play it like that, does he?

“Impressive, but you’ve got nothing on me!” You arch in a graceful backflip over the gap between the buildings, landing steadily on your feet.

Mark chuckles lightly at you, shaking his head when you skip ahead of him through the shadows. Like you aren’t going to wring out every advantage your Gift could possibly give you; there’s no way you’re letting him have the satisfaction of possibly being better than you.

“See anyone we need to beat up?” You slow your pace enough for him to run beside you, not needing to shout to be heard.

Mark’s mask covers his entire face, but you’re pretty sure you know the look he’s got on his face right now; that little dip between his eyebrows and the lightest pout on his lips. He’s really too predictable.

“We aren’t looking for people to beat up.” He corrects you. “We’re looking for people to save.”

You come to a stop so you can face him properly, hands settling on your hips. The seriousness of the situation doesn’t stop you from keeping the playfulness from your voice, though, forced as it might sound.

“Now that’s the mind of a future hero-in-the-making.” You shrug, mouth pursing into a tense smile. “The rest of us don’t really care so much about that, you know.”

Mark falters, nearly tripping over himself even though he’s slowed to a walk. “That isn’t what I was trying to imply, you know that.”

“I know.” You provide him with another half-shrug. “I’m just saying that I’m here to beat people up; you can call it saving people or whatever else satisfies your hero-complex but, at the end of the day, someone’s still getting beat.”

No matter how close the two of you are, this is an age old argument that neither of you have been able to shake off; the constant debate of vigilantism versus heroism. At the end of the day, you’re getting the same things done, so why Mark needs to get so prickly about it is beyond you.

He is training to be a hero – which you’ve grudgingly accepted, despite your misgivings – so that might be it. Unlike you, he’s always interested in those caped fantasies, in saving the day and happy endings. Even he has to admit it; Mark is the definition of a happy fool.

And you? Well, that’d make you the tortured genius – though there’s nothing particularly genius about you. Just tortured.

“At the end of the day, we’re still saving people too.” Mark’s voice is low, brittle. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“And we’ve always ended it the same way.” You force yourself to keep your calm, though you itch to blow up at him. “So what makes this time so different?”

Mark starts forward, about to answer, only to be interrupted by a familiar voice. A very unwelcome voice.

“Hope I’m not interrupting!”

There’s a muffled thump, like someone’s landing on their feet, as you slowly turn around, eyes growing wide behind your mask.

Decked out in a tight-fitting leather bodysuit and a black choker, which delicately circles his neck, he looks at you with dancing, mischievous eyes. The black eye mask that sculpts itself to his face prevents you from being able figure out who the man behind the mask is, but that isn’t your priority right now, because you know who this is, standing in front of you with that cheeky grin.

“Joker.”

Written By: Midnight

The amazing moodboard was done by Sangria! Blessed that I am to have such a perfect wife <3

Next: 02

#kwritersworldnet #kreativewritersnet #nctwriters #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #nct jaehyun #villain jaehyun #nct jung jaehyun #villain jung jaehyun #jaehyun series #will i update consistently? let's find out

122 notes · View notes

mi6-cafe · 4 years

Photo

THESE ARE THE FINAL LDWS DRABBLES!

For the finale, we asked our competitors to write exactly 400 words in which they had to use the phrase “we aim to please”.

The did an excellent job so come read and vote and help us decide THE ONE DRABBLE WRITER TO RULE THEM ALL...

HOW DO YOU VOTE?

Read all the drabbles. (they’re below the line)

Choose three that you like the most.

Fill out this VOTING FORM, telling us your favourites. (You can even leave anonymous feedback for the author).

NOTE: If you are a competitor, you CANNOT vote for your own fic. But please, do vote. :)

The voting period ends at 11:59 PM EST on Sunday night. Results will be posted and anonymous feedback will be emailed on Monday.

Title: Live to Serve Author: sorion Warnings: alludes to the current political climate in the US (and to a lesser degree the UK) Summary: Bond completes objectives. How he completes them is up to him.

Bond barely batted an eye when his solitary corner of the bar he'd chosen was invaded by another patron with his own drink.

"Felix," he greeted him.

"James. What a surprise."

Bond's smirk widened. "Tell the truth. You knew I was in the States the moment I set foot on the ground."

Felix's lip twitched sardonically. "When you got on the plane to come here."

Bond chuckled.

"I've learned that it pays to keep track of your movements." He tilted his head to look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Just in case."

"I'd be insulted if I didn't do the same thing with you."

They grinned at each other wordlessly and returned to their drinks.

"So," Felix interrupted their companionable silence. "What brings you here?"

"Is that American for, 'What havoc can I expect you to wreak on my home turf'?"

Felix pretended to consider that. "Sounds about right."

Bond's amused eyes wandered to the muted news on the television in the corner of the bar and darkened. "Not as much havoc as I'd like to wreak."

Felix followed his line of sight. "Tell me about it," he agreed. Then he straightened, cleared his throat, and added in a chatty tone, "What's your people's stance on overthrowing foreign governments, these days?"

Bond, fortunately, wasn't swallowing at that moment, or he would have choked on it. It still took all his not inconsiderable self-restraint to not laugh out loud. "Overthrowing governments of allies is sadly frowned upon." He pondered that for a second. "Yours?"

"Same." He leaned closer. "Any orders to such an effect, regardless?" he asked carefully.

Bond shook his head. "More's the pity. I live to serve, and I serve by completing objectives." He squinted at Felix. "How I complete them is my prerogative, however."

Felix nodded slowly, indicating that he was operating similarly.

"What I'd like to do," Bond continued, his lethal eyes on the news, "would be like trying to put out a fire with nitro-glycerine, so I was thinking something more subtle."

"Mhm..." Felix hummed, his voice thrumming with satisfaction. "Subtle is not quite your thing."

Bond's shark-like smile was all teeth. "I know a guy..."

"Smart, dark-haired, gorgeous, can kill from his bed in his pyjamas?" Felix guessed.

They shared a look like two bloodhounds catching a scent.

Felix held out his hand.

Bond took it.

"We live to serve. We aim to please."

Title: An Assist Author: Anyawen Warnings: Summary: Bond learns that he's been equipped with an unlooked-for advantage.

Bond paused, studying the bullet he was loading into his spare clip. There were scratches on the base of the casing. That was decidedly odd. Q would never send out ammunition with any sort of flaw that could impair its use, or worse, damage the gun — or the agent using it. He ran a finger over the base but couldn't detect the scratches. Turning it in his hands he looked again. Definitely there. And, he checked, also on all the other bullets in the clip. The chance of a bad bullet from Q-branch was staggeringly small, but not zero. The chance of an entire bad batch escaping notice, however, could be measured in negative numbers. If Q sent these bullets out into the field, then these marks were meant to be there. There must be a reason for them. There was something niggling at him. He’d seen this pattern of scratches before. He glanced over at his Walther. Picking it up he peered at it closely, turning it over and over in his hands. Ah. There it was. On the back of the trigger was a faint glimmer of markings. ... .||. .|.. .| |.|. . .|. . ... | ..| |.. . || ..| ... It took him a minute to recognize that the lines were dashes among a smattering of dots. After that realization the letters came easily. "placere studemus" Translating the Latin took slightly longer. A moment later he tapped his ear and heard the faint ambient sounds of Q-branch through the earwig. "Do you require assistance, 007?" Q asked. "Interesting numbers in your annual report." "Focus on the mission, Bond. We can discuss— " "Decreased stray bullet injuries on ops over the last year, but no noticeable increase in range scores," Bond continued, speaking over Q. "True." "We're hitting our targets more often without actually being better shots." "An impressive feat." "Very. I've not seen magic like it since my gran passed." "I- What?" "She was a hedge witch." "Oh. Are you ..." "No," Bond replied as he finished loading the clip. "Can't sense or cast magic. Recognized the marks as spellwork, though. Nice work. You're some sort of technomage?" "Something like that." "And the spell?" "Merely an assist." "An effective one." "Thank you." "Just one thing, Q." "Yes?" "Is that phrase really the best anchor you could come up with?" "Well. You can't deny it's apropos. After all, 'we aim to please.'”

Title: Marketing Research Author: stormofsharpthings Warnings: sex? Summary: Bond discovers what Q Branch has been working on lately

“Well, well, Quinn.”

As Bond dropped the gunmetal grey box next to his laptop, Q felt a cold shudder spill down his spine. There were still a few secrets he’d managed to keep from his lover, though apparently he now had one less. “You should never have been able to access that part of the lab.”

“Mmm, so I was informed. Top Secret. I had to be quite persuasive. An interesting project though, Quinn.”

Q fought down a surge of jealousy at the thought of what that persuasion might have been. “You know that’s not my real name, it’s just a joke amongst the techs.” He crossed his arms in irritation. “Dammit, James, you were snooping! This prototype was meant to be a birthday surprise.”

“It’s certainly surprising.” Bond’s finger traced the embossed lettering lovingly. “And not at all an exploding pen, which I was rather expecting. However did you get this past the projects committee?”

Q sighed. “Given the proclivities of double-ohs, it was an easy sell as a test product. A quite unexpected way to deliver drugs or implant trackers, should the need arise.”

“The box is a bit of a giveaway, though, don’t you think? The logo is literally a Q with a tree branch entwined.”

“That’s not the final packaging! They were just having a bit of a joke!”

Bond raised an eyebrow as he opened the box, stroking a finger delicately over the contents. Q felt a twitch of reluctant arousal as he watched those so very precise fingertips linger on certain details.

“So delightfully unexpected, Q,” James purred as he picked up the creamy vellum card inside. “‘Quinn’tessential Ecstasies,” he read aloud. “Is all of Q Branch so prone to puns and in-jokes?” He smirked and dropped the card back into the box. “But don’t you think ‘We Aim To Please’ is a bit on the nose for a gun-shaped dildo?” James chuckled, picking it up and fondling it in a way that made Q’s trousers just a little more snug.

Q glared. “As if subtlety is your strong suit.”

James laughed wickedly. “I’m quite impressed with the trigger-activated vibrations. Whatever made you think of this?”

“It seemed natural, since an exploding pen is out of the question in the bedroom, and you do have a rather unhealthy attachment to your Walther.”

“It needs testing. And since you present such a tempting target, Q…”

Title: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble Author: SouffleGirl91 Warnings: None Summary: On an undercover mission, Bond considers the merits of murdering customers.

“Is the hazelnut syrup sugar-free?”

Bond bit back a sigh, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“I’m afraid not. Only the cinnamon and vanilla syrups are sugar-free.”

It wasn’t the stupidest question in the world, but this had been going on for five minutes. Or maybe three. It felt like five hours.

First, it had been “what’s the difference between a latte and a flat white?” Which… fair enough. He’d had to quickly remember his crash course in coffee-making to bullshit an explanation without saying “the flat white is cheaper but costs more.”

Then, it was “why does the oat milk have a surcharge but the soy milk doesn’t?” prompting a lesson in the economics of non-dairy milk alternatives all the while considering drowning his customer in said soy milk.

So: not the stupidest question in the world, but quite possibly the stupidest customer.

“I’ll have a cappuccino.”

Seriously?

“Was that with soy milk?”

“Oh no, just regular milk’s fine.”

How was this his life?!

“Syrup?”

“No, thanks.”

He could feel his molars grinding with the force of his fake smile. Five minutes! For nothing!

“And what name is it?”

“Karen.”

Of course it was.

He had been stuck in this god-forsaken job for three weeks, and was seriously weighing the pros and cons of ‘accidentally’ causing an explosion. Things like that happened, right? He could probably get away with it

“No, you can’t kill her.”

Bond stifled a groan. Bad enough that he was stuck undercover as a bloody barista in Canada, without having Q in his ear all day judging his latte art and thwarting his murder plans. It turned out the Quartermaster was the bloody customer service police.

“I would never,” he muttered, too quiet for anyone else to hear. The last thing he needed was for his temporary “colleagues” to overhear him talking to thin air.

“Of course not. Just like you’d never feed your gun to a komodo dragon.”

“You know damned well that was an accident,” he whispered, sprinkling cocoa powder through a bloody maple leaf stencil. “How much longer, Q?”

Q just hummed apologetically.

Straightening his shoulders and pasting another ‘friendly’ smile on his face, Bond handed over the drink.

“Well, at least you’re generous with the cocoa.”

“Fuck you, Karen.”

“We aim to please. Enjoy your drink.”

Bond wondered whether he could talk Q into blowing the place up after all.

Title: Distraction Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: paranoia can be a healthy attitude around some people

As a rule, Q always was rather suspicious of quiet - whether that was a side effect of working in espionage or just his nature, he wasn't particularly sure but he knew better than wasting too much brainpower on such considerations. Besides, a healthy dose of paranoia always paid off if the feeling was carefully kept on a leash. Hand going to grab his taser, Q entered the bedroom and his eyes immediately zeroed in on his lovers "What are you doing?" "Who - us?" James inquired with a shiteating grin, dramatically pointing at his own chest "Man of little faith" Q gestured at Raoul, lounging against the bed post "At least he has the decency to not try to fool me" he pointed out as he relaxed in increments, tension gradually leaving his body as he made his way to the bed to sit at its foot "So?" "What makes you think we are up to anything?" The younger man batted James' hand away from his calf "You always are up to something when you're quiet: it's not like either of you" Raoul's chuckle was satiny and dark - if Q hadn't found it ridiculous to compare a sound to food, his mind would have probably come up with some kind of stupid similitude involving a rich, dark chocolate cake "We aim to please, mi querido" "That awfully sounds like an admission of guilt" "Maybe" Raoul leaned over, finger tapping the point of the other's nose just to see the way it would scrunch up at the bothersome gesture "But who says I feel guilty about any of it?" Taking advantage of Q's distraction, their lover clearly too busy - and failing at - glaring Raoul into properly confessing, James wrapped his hand around his ankle and tugged firmly, a delighted chuckle escaping his lips at the little shriek Q let out "Let's talk about it later" he murmured, bending down to brush their lips together "There's funnier things to do" "Just tell me the place isn't gonna get swarmed by whatever international agency might be thirsting for our heads" Raoul palmed his cheek, gently turning his head to meet his eyes "I promise" Q sighed, eyes rolling even as he reached for the nape of the other's neck while he sneaked a foot between James' legs "Fine, but don't you think you can postpone this conversation for much longer" "Wouldn't dream of it"

Title: Souvenirs Author: IrishWitch58 Warnings: mild BDSM themes Summary: Bond likes giving Q souvenirs of his travels.

Q examined the box squatting in the center of his desk, a cardboard enigma with a security clearance tag. The shipping label indicated it had originated from Elko, Nevada. Q closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The only agent recently conducting operations in the US was Bond. The joint operation between the CIA and MI6 focused on an information dealer selling military secrets from both Britain and the US. Bond had been pleased to be working with his old friend Felix Leiter. Q had been entertained by Bond and Leiter as the pair entered what Felix had described as a legal brothel.

Bond: “Only in America.” Bond's voice held a hint of astonishment. “All that neon makes my eyes water.”

Leiter: “Ah yes, one stop shopping for a certain type of client.”

Bond: “Felix. They have a gift shop. The souvenirs must be epic.”

Successful, Bond had returned and this had appeared. Q looked at the box reproachfully. Bond and his souvenirs. Being romantically involved with the man had only increased his penchant for gifting Q with odd objects. He carefully slit the tape and opened the flaps, prodding carefully at the packing peanuts. The first item was a six pack of seasonings and sauces intended for American style barbecue. Unusually practical. He resolved to investigate how to use them as he placed the jars on the shelf behind him and dug further. His fingers encountered a narrow object that flexed a bit as he removed it. He flushed with embarrassment although he was alone in the office as he withdrew a riding crop in a rather nice leather finish with the initials MHHP stamped on the handle in gold. He gave it an experimental swing, neatly sending a packing peanut flying. Digging produced a final item. He shook out the tee shirt, and read the logo that explained it all. 'Madame Helga's House of Pain, Barbecue Joint, and Rifle Range' was displayed across the front. The back had an image of an androgynous figure with a bullseye painted on it's pert derrière and the legend, 'We aim to please'. His phone pinged and he checked the text. Bond had sent a video which proved to be a short loop of the neon display at Madame Helga's featuring an animated dominatrix landing a crop in the center of the bullseye. The text accompaniment said, 'Care to provide a target, darling?'

Title: Timing is Everything Author: Iambid (Flantastic) Warnings: None Summary: James needs a new hobby.

YOU'RE EARLY AGAIN, said the Grim Reaper, with a hint of surprise.

“I am?” James asked, sounding a lot calmer than he currently felt.

He looked around himself. He’d been in Saudi Arabia, on the trail of an assassin, when everything had gone to hell. He’d been captured, beaten, tortured and then dumped in the middle of nowhere, somewhere south of Ash Shalfa. The last thing that he remembered was lying broken and bloody in the burning desert, baking under the merciless sun.

Now it appeared he was in a wood-panelled office, not unlike the one that M used.

Except M’s had never had a skeleton dressed in a black robe sitting at its desk. Well. As far as James knew.

YOU KEEP DOING THIS, Death said, shuffling through the thick paper file in front of him. Her. It. Whatever.

“I do?” James asked, still not entirely sure he knew what was going on.

MMMMM. AGED TEN, FELL HEAD-FIRST OUT OF A TREE. AGED TWENTY-ONE. GOT INTO A FIGHT ON THE HMS ALBION, PUSHED OFF THE FLIGHT-DECK INTO THE ADRIATIC SEA. AGED FORTY-TWO, SHOT OFF A NINETY-EIGHT METRE BRIDGE BY A… Death paused, bringing the page closer to their face. They seemed to squint, which wasn’t bad going for a skull … IT SAYS A ‘FRIEND’.

“That would be Moneypenny.” James explained.

THERE ARE COUNTLESS INCIDENTS LIKE THIS. NEED I GO ON?

“I shouldn’t think so.” James admitted.

COME WITH ME, Death commanded. They rose, and floated towards the door. James obediently followed them. The door opened and on the other side, they found themselves in a hospital room. The occupants didn’t seem to notice.

YOU SEEM TO THINK THAT RESURRECTION IS A HOBBY. IT ISN’T. DESPITE YOUR BEST EFFORTS, I SIMPLY CAN’T TAKE WHAT ISN’T MINE YET.

James stepped forward and saw that he was the man in the bed and the man in the chair next to him, the man pressing tearful kisses to the back of his bandaged hand, was Q.

YOU BELONG TO HIM. HE’S WAITING FOR YOU TO LOVE HIM. YOU’LL BE MINE ONCE YOU’VE GIVEN HIM A LONG HAPPY LIFE.

James jerked awake, his body suddenly screaming out with a hundred injuries. He gasped but Q was there, soothing him, calming him. He squeezed his hand and Q smiled.

“You saved me.” He croaked.

“Smart blood. Latest tech. We aim to please.” Q replied.

Title: The Problem With Retirement Author: Venstar Warnings: none Summary: retirement or reunion

The diner was full of quiet little noises this late at night. Silverware clinking, a pen scratching across a booklet of crossword puzzles, tired sighs of the late-night drivers, and in the corner a booth full of a tired family. Where had it all gone wrong?

The snap of chewing gum and their waitress’s voice drew him out of his musings. “Welcome to the Georgia Peach, we aim to please. What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred.”

A long-suffering sigh blew out of the wide mouth that had been until then, pinched tight in annoyance. “Just coffee for him.”

The waitress was a behemoth of a working professional, much like Bond, and simply offered Q a wide smile, showing just a hint of gold at the edges. “And for his lordship?”

Bond answered for him. “Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”

“Okay, one coffee and hot tea for His Lordship.” She winked at Q and spun on her heel.

Q’s folded his hands under his chin and studied Bond for the minutes it took for their waitress to bring back a carafe of coffee, a mug of hot water on a saucer, and a pathetic excuse for a teabag.

Bond sipped at his coffee as he watched the disgust crawl across Q’s perfect, bony little face. He missed that face.

“Enough. Why am I here and why are you bleeding?”

“Am I bleeding?” Bond reached under his jacket, his fingers came away wet and red. “Huh, thought it was ketchup.”

“You’re supposed to be in the middle of Jamaica. Retired.”

“You could say that. I need your help. Madeline needs your help”

Q stared long and hard at Bond. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Running off with her, abandoning m...MI6 taking the car-” He broke off his tirade when Bond reached forward and laid his hand on his, blood smearing along the pale skin.

Q’s eyes focused on the blood.

“I never said WE retired together. She’s been a good neighbor, a good friend. That’s all. She still had her secrets. They found her. Whoever THEY are and she needs your help.” Bond curled his fingers under and gripped Q’s hand tightly.

Q made a weak attempt to look away. His eyes stuttered back when Bond’s finger brushed across his wrist and gave an answer Q was not expecting.

“Oh, how I missed you, Q.”

Title: Improvisation Author: AtoTheBean Warnings: None Summary: Turn-about is… unpleasant.

He nurses a scotch and watches the mark, Jason Abernathy, at a table in the corner. Businessman. Mid-40s. On his third round, a group of beautiful people laughing at his jokes. He’s ignoring the dance floor, despite the urging of the blonde at his table. And he’s noticed Bond watching, but hasn’t approached him. Another agent is on her way as back-up. Perhaps she’ll be more to his taste. Bond turns the card over in his fingers “Discreet Escorts: We aim to please!” It’s not subtle, but it has a certain charm. If it were just a high-end escort business, he wouldn’t be here. But if it’s a quasi-legal front for a human trafficking ring... “007?” R asks. Bond raises his drink to his lips. “Hmmm?” “Change of plans.” Bond surveys the room, waiting for clarification. It comes in the form of Q wearing skinny jeans and a tight purple shirt. Q smiles flirtatiously and moves around Bond so his back is to the mark. “New intel. 003 won’t be to his taste either. We had to improvise.” “Improvise?” “Reject me,” Q whispers. “Loudly.” Bond glances at the mark and sees his gaze fixed on Q’s arse. “You’re not what I want,” Bond shouts, pushing Q away. One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand. “Is there a problem?” Jason asks, sliding in beside Q. Q levels a dazzling smile at him. “No problem. My new employer sent me to a potential client, and I’m not what he wants.” “Well, there’s no accounting for taste. Who’s your employer?” Q hands him a card just like Bond’s. “Oh, I am. Shall we see how well you take our motto to heart?” Jason leads Q to the dance floor. Bond is forced to watch them “dance” for ten minutes, until it’s really just grinding and snogging. They pass him again on the way to the loo, and Bond feels something heavy drop into his pocket. Jason’s phone. Bond moves to the door. “I have it.” “And the drive?” R asks. “Inserting now.” Within minutes, the data has been retrieved and Q’s bug is installed. Bond wanders back in the bar, dismayed to see Q is still missing. “He’s fine,” R assures. Bond doesn’t like it. He heads down the hall to the loo, placing the phone on the seat the mark vacated as he passes. The door is locked. “Stand down, 007.” He orders another drink and waits.

#10

Title: Echoes Author: Shush_MummyWriting Warnings: None. Summary: Five + One. Bond hearing echoes.

Bond was surprised at how relaxing it was at Q’s parents’ house. It was filled with homely touches, photos of Q and his brothers through the years, plants and knick-knacks on the shelves. There was even a hand stitched frame in the downstairs bathroom that declared “In this house, we aim to please. In this room, you aim too, please!”. It felt like a home.

It was the second fitting for Bond’s latest suit. The tailor was a genius, the way he managed to conceal the gun holster. “Anything else, Mr. Bond?” he asked. “Perhaps a touch longer in the sleeve.” Bond replied. “Of course sir, we aim to please after all.” Bond smiled.

Bond was actually using his office, studying for his upcoming mission. Eve sauntered in, perched on the edge of his desk and asked, “How much do you love me?” dangling an envelope between two manicured fingers. “It depends on what that is.” said Bond, taking it. “Travel documents where I, your best friend, have managed to secure first-class tickets for your Brazil flights.” “Thank you!” said Bond, who detested long hours in cattle class. As Eve strolled out of the office, she tossed over her shoulder “We aim to please!”.

As Bond entered the R&D department, he was met with the sight of Alec, waving a brochure in the direction of Q, who appeared to be ignoring him. “Seriously Q, just have a look at these specifications. It would be an asset. And it looks awesome! Did you see the clever headline for it?” Q grabbed the brochure, exclaiming “That headline alone is reason enough NOT to buy it. What kind of company would market a rifle sight with the motto “We Aim to Please!” Seriously! Now away with you, I have work to do.” and gestured Bond forward.

Q went over each piece of equipment, saving the best for last. “This is simple, press the top three times quickly, jam it into the keyhole and step back.” Bond took it with a look of wonder “Q, you’ve made me an exploding pen!” Q’s blush was adorable as he muttered “We aim to please.”

Bond settled his breathing, sighting on his target. It should have been an impossible shot - the distance, the weather, etc but between his skill and Q's equipment, another minor government official/major crime lord met his fate. "We aim to please." Bond muttered.

#11

Title: Flirting With the Wild Cat Author: scarytheory Warnings: angst Summary: Moneypenny has a secret.

We aim to please.

There are new documents on her desk, and she's feeling sick to her stomach.

Oh yes. We do.

They met when she was still a field agent.

“Miss Moneypenny.”

“Miss Galore.”

It would have been a standard honeypot mission if they didn't hate each other instantly. But there was something they needed, so they flirted, got drunk and angrily fucked on the balcony. In the end, Eve got the information and Pussy Galore didn't.

It should have ended there. But sometimes Mallory needed to contact Galore again, and Eve was the best agent for it – even after she became a secretary.

Eve honestly didn't mind; she loved a challenge, and Galore gave her just that. It was always a rush of emotions, it was hatred with a twist, a complicated game – who was better, smarter, wittier. The constant battle for dominance. Which was also a basis for incredible sex.

They started spending more time together, and suddenly they were laughing and talking about their lives. They didn't even need a mission for that – whatever that was. It didn't feel like they were enemies anymore.

Eve should have known better.

She never should have trusted her.

“You betrayed me.”

“And you are surprised, Moneypenny? This is what I do, what we do – me, you, all your agents and all my people. We aim to please, Eve. We were trained for it, we were trained to be horrible people. However, it’s our bosses we’re meant to please first and foremost. We're fucked up and you know it. There is no way you could disobey an order from M and I have my duties as well.”

“I would never use you.”

Except she already had. But that was before the laughter, before... everything.

“Honestly, did you believe that there was some miraculous happy ending for us? We are the same and yet different; a heroine and a villain. You should be glad it’s ending only in heartbreak and not with death.” She always loved big words and big speeches.

“I hate you, Galore.”

“Oh, but you don't, darling. That's the problem.”

And now Eve's sitting at her desk and staring at the documents. 007 got a new job. Eliminate a target who is no longer useful to them.

Yet, there is still time to warn her.

We aim to please. Until we don't.

#12

Title: A Pizza Pie Author: Ksan ( @starrboned-art ) Warnings: None Summary: Bond and Q are having a quiet afternoon together.

"James, that is not - stop that!" Q grabbed James' wrist before he could pour the sauce on the pizza dough.

"Q, that's how I’ve always made pizza." James gave his wrist an experimental wiggle, but the boffin was holding tight, eyes daring him to move.

"You need to oil the edges first," Q insisted, waving the brush and splashing oily drops everywhere.

James conceded, if only to not get his dark blue shirt stained.

"As you say, chef." James smirked, setting the hot pan aside. Q gave the dough a quick brush, nodding at James. "Now you can pour the sauce."

"Yes, chef."

"Stop it," Q said with a huff, but James spotted a quirk to his lips as he turned to the counter. A few plates laid ready with sliced vegetables and meats, all waiting to be added to the pizza.

"Just make sure that the champignons won't touch my side of the pizza." James scowled at the innocent white mushrooms.

Q gave him a smirk. "You are very particular about your food."

"I have a very particular taste," James countered with a suggestive smile. Q laughed, turning to put the pizza into the oven. James managed to steal a few sliced cherry tomatoes from Q's pile before he got caught.

"Go get the wine," Q said, "I'll get the glasses."

"So bossy today," James smirked, ruffling Q's curls. He escaped into the sunlit living room before Q could swat at him with a towel.

It was late noon on a Saturday, and for once none of them had any world-dooming emergencies to solve. The cats were basking in the late sun, the curtains swayed slightly as the evening breeze blew through the open windows.

James opened a red shiraz with a pop. With the wine ready on the table, he closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the quiet rustle Q made in the kitchen.

"Double-o agent, falling asleep?" Q's hand snuck around his waist, chin peeking over his shoulder.

"Before dinner?! You know agents, Q - we aim to please," James turned, kissing Q's smile. He had tomato sauce on his cheek, which James licked (to Q's astonished laughter).

"Pleasing will have to wait for later," Q purred, shoving the wine glasses at James. "What should we toast to?"

James swirled his wine, a habit born out of years of fine dining.

"To more sunny afternoons together."

#13

Title: game Author: azure7539 Warnings: canon typical violence

Summary: Hide and seek as usual, but it's interesting all the same. Just another day at work.

Nausea roils like a particularly stormy sea in the midst of a hurricane, and all he can hear is the whistling of his own breathing as his throat wheezes around air before it rattles into his ribcage and never truly fills up those burning lungs.

He’s been running for so long, he can no longer feel the screaming in his feet.

The throng of people felt like a good idea at first, a thick crowd celebrating some local holiday, but now every face seems suspicious, every pair of eyes lingering on just a tad too long. The enemies can be anywhere, can be anyone.

Vertigo dips his world as he crashes into a phone booth, thinking, assuming, he’s managed to put decent distance between him and his chasers, spare change clinking as the coins spill from his shaking hands.

Fuck. Fuck, what’s the number again…

Eight, five, three, two—

The line rings. Once. Twice.

“Hello,” a posh voice he’s never heard before picks up, nonchalant and indifferent. “Identification, please.”

“S-SPCTR-6304,” he nearly trips on his own tongue saying the words.

“One moment.” Soft typing filters through, the calmness perforating through the mad chaos in his mind. But adrenaline licks at his heels—he’s finally standing still long enough to feel the way how wracking tremors are seizing up his overtaxed muscles—and he wants to scream and vibrate out of his skin.

His instincts are shouting at him to start running again, to keep at it until he finds a trustworthy point of contact, something more than just another voice on the other side of a line.

But that’s the thing. This ‘voice on the other side of a line’ is one of his last remaining trustworthy points of contact. The rest are just… gone.

Someone shrieks from over where the people have gathered at the end of the alley, and he’s one hair’s breadth away from slamming back into the wall.

His heart is beating too fast.

“Ah, Mr Roswell. Good to hear from you again,” the person says, pleasantly. A pause. “Did you enjoy your final game?”

“What—”

“At MI6, we aim to please, after all,” the voice drops into a low baritone. Dangerous.

Like the monsters of his nightmares culminating into one singular point of existence.

The last thing he sees before life drains from him are twin pools of glacier. As blue and unreachable as the sky above.

___

You wonderful LDWS writers, you! Thank you so much for writing us these!

And thank you, readers, for reading and voting! THANK YOU!

#ldws #james bond #james bond fanfiction #drabbles #writing challenge

60 notes · View notes

justsassysworld · 4 years

Text

Five Demons and a Baby Part 3

Five Demons Part 3

Word Count: 1683

The Conglomerate x Fem!reader

Shuddering in nothing like fear, you allow them to show you back to your seat. Instead of letting you sit on your own, Gio waits for Scarabee to settle back in before handing you off. This time he pulls you onto his lap instead of right next to him.

Zhuk sits next to the two of you as the rest choose their spots. Once everyone's settled, Bee turns you to face the group, your back to his chest, your ass cradling his dick.

With all their attention turned to you, you figure they are waiting for you to say something but that is so not happening.

"Shy, chaton," Scarabee whispers against your ear, obviously enjoying your squirming. "But you were so vocal a minute ago."

You turn your head to glare at him, and he just laughs, with some of the others joining in. Pouting, you spin back and let out a sign. "I'm sorry for the snark, but you guys need to understand, I'm a bit of a sardonic asshole. It's not in my nature to play doormat, and it's not a role I'll ever willingly take."

Taking your hand, Zhuk draws your attention. "That is not our intention, zaika. No self respecting man wants a doormat, but we are all dominant men in our own rights, and we will not allow one of our own to come to harm."

"But-"

Gio interrupts you, "Make no mistake, topolina, you are ours, if not as a partner, as a member of the family."

A special warmth spreads through your chest. These men are trusting you, a person they don't know, a person who could be lying about the paternity, but they never doubted you. You were truly starting to believe the rumors of their evilness was drastically exaggerated.

"Thank you for saying that," you say after taking a moment to compose yourself. "What exactly do you mean by wooing? Will they just be dates? Sex? I need to know what to expect."

Chuckles surround you, Scarabee's rumbling against your backs; it would seem they weren't expecting such a blunt question.

"Oh gatita," Bajo sighs, "I for one must say how much I love your forthright nature."

Scarabee lets out a growl and you're confused until he bites out, "She is not your gatita, she is my chaton, pick something else."

"Seriously, amigo?" the Spaniard complains. "What can I call her then?"

"Not mouse.

"Not bunny." Zhuk and Gio say at the same time, making you roll your eyes.

"Fine, is paloma acceptable?" he asks, mainly to Cia.

"Don't fret, a chroi," Cia replies, sending him a wink. "I haven't yet thought of my name for our bonnie less."

Part of you wonders why they can't just call you by your name, while another loves how you feel when they use those pet names. Still, you need answers.

"Now that we have that sorted, could you please answer my question?" you cajole.

"Which one? About the dates or about sex?" Cia smirks. "If ya need a lesson in sex, I'll gladly volunteer, but considering your condition, I'm not sure how much I can teach ya." Yours are not the only eyes rolling.

Before any more jokes can be bandied around, Zhuk draws your attention, "Zaika, we are trying to woo you, you will decide what will happen, sex or no sex."

"I know what I'm voting for," Bajo murmurs, sending you a heated look.

"Now, if that's settled," Gio draws your attention by standing. "I need to get her vitamins ready, she needs to eat, and someone needs to help get her settled."

Seeming to agree, the others stand, even Scarabee, with you in his arms. You squirm to be let down, but he pays you no mind.

Gio quickly exits, but none of the others make a move, not even the man who still isn't letting you down. They start walking and speaking in some language you don't understand. Giving up on escape, you content yourself with mapping out this place, if the need for escape should arise. Of course all the damn doors are closed so you can't actually take stock of the rooms around you.

Huffing out a disappointed sigh, you pout from the cradle of the Cajuns arms, wanting to get where ever you're going so you can get some control back, or at least the option of moving on your own.

Finally you enter a new space, but it's not what you were expecting. It's far from the simple sleeping space you'd envisioned. The scene from the second Princess Diaries movie pops into your mind. Quite honestly, this suite is bigger than your apartment. Your mind is having issues comprehending how the luxury of the space is mixing with your stuff. Simple earth tones counter rich woods, while your more bright colors manage to blend without clashing too much.

Bajo and Cia make their way to the kitchenette, while Zhuk peruses your humble library, and Scarabee settles onto an over stuffed sofa, you in his lap. You watch how the others move about the space, trying to learn what you can about the mixed group without asking any questions.

The pair in the kitchen seem to dance as they work, letting you see their love; they flirt with their smiles, call each other ridiculously cute nick names, and even kiss once or twice. You catch the burly Russian casting longing glances their way, though you can't tell if it's because he wants to join them, or he just wants what they have. When he's not peering at them, he's checking out your small movie collection, obviously caught of guard by some of your selections.

"Well, cher," Scarabee suddenly whispers against your ear. "Ya learnin' anythin'?"

Biting your lip at getting caught, you turn your head slightly to see him. "Maybe, a little."

"Ah, don't leave me in suspense, tell me, mon petite chaton," he demands against your flesh.

"Well," you hedge, wanting time to fight your body's reaction, not that it'll do you any good with their sense of smell. "While you all seem very close, may haps even sexually, Cia and Bajo seem extra close. I'd even say they look like they're in love. I would say Zhuk is the quietest of you, and while some might think it would suggest a more submissive nature, I get the feeling he has more dominance in his little finger then a lot of doms have in their whole body, there's also a loneliness in his eyes. You and Gio seem to be cut from the same cloth, but he's got something hiding beneath the surface. I can't tell what's different between the two of you, but I think you are a bit extroverted to his introvert."

Looking into his eyes, you add, "Your power seems to surround you, where his comes from inside."

His gaze bores into you for a good while and you realize you don't hear anything coming from the rest of the room. Checking the others, you see they are also staring at you.

"What?" you ask, turning back to Scarabee. His palm cups your cheek as he stares at you in wonder.

"Cher, you surprise me," he whispers, drawing you in for a quick kiss.

"How?" Zhuk asks from behind you. You look behind you and see all of them, even Gio, who is standing in the doorway, watching you in shocked amazement.

Fear has you frozen. There is absolutely no way you're going to tell them the truth, that you've read so much fan fiction you've gotten really good at reading people. Nope, that's not something you'll ever admit to. "Uhh," you stall. "I read."

Before they can question you further, you ask, "What's for lunch?"

You get some glares, but Cia is smiling while he brings you a bowl of simple chicken noodle soup. Scarabee carries you to the table, setting you in one of the chairs. Gio hands you a couple of pills as Bajo sets down a glass of water. They each take a seat as the rest of the food is served.

Looking at the pills, you ask," Gio, are these prescription prenatals?"

"Yes, topolina," he replies, taking a bite of his soup.

"How?" confusion stains your voice. "There's no way you could get a prescription this fast."

He flashes you a cocky grin. "Is that so?"

You're about to snap back when strong hands trail down your arms, moving you hands to the table. "Please, a chuid, eat."

Biting your lip, you look up to see Cia staring down at you, concern and kindness swimming in the depths of his eyes. Not wanting to disappoint him, you quickly take a bite of the surprisingly delicious soup before swallowing your pills. Smiling, he moves to his own seat and starts eating.

The sounds of people eating fills the space until Zhuk says, "So, zaika, tell us all about you."

You do just that with a smile, answering every question they send your way. Favorite color, book, movie, and television show, your childhood, family and friends, and all of your dreams, you answer it all, but get very little info in return.

Finally tiring of the sound of your own voice, you ask, "Haven't you heard enough? When do I get to learn more abut you?"

Chuckles are your answer. "My dear, Zaika, we will each tell you all you wish to know, and more, in turn. I will be taking my day with you tomorrow, Gio will follow me, Bajo and Cia will share their days, and Bee will finish us up. Will this work for you?"

Mulling it over, you smile and nod. "Yes, I think I can live with that."

Various pleased looks answer, before the questions begin again. You're tempted to roll your eyes, but there is something so damn sweet about the curiosity of these mysterious men. As much as you don't understand how they can still have things to ask, you guess you'll have just as many when your turn rolls around.

@doyahearthatsound-after-dark, @1-rosewiththorns

#beetlejuice mafia au #the conglomerate #the conglomerate x reader #five demons #sassy writes #zhuk #scarafaggio #scarabee #escarabajo #ciarog

56 notes · View notes

nonatowers · 4 years

Text

ladies and gents, this is the moment you’ve waited for

a shy “hi” and welcome to my first blog post on this side blog! my name is rosie, its a pleasure to meet you all and i will be honest, i dreaded my first post into this community for quite some time, but I just saw this answer-reply by psycho-sybil that made me pull out my literary resources and decide, it’s time to throw in my dime (please ignore this stupid joke). i’m sorry by the way, this is terribly random but i never really managed a blog before so…trial-by-error? (please be kind, i have a glass heart under my analysts hat)

anyways, my first idea was to unravel the character that is Arata Shindo (since many people seem to kind of misunderstand this fella), but that post is, uh, gonna be very very very long and i’m kinda trying to figure out if i should put it elsewhere? Or how to post it? if you guys got any ideas, let me know.

for today’s dish, i will humbly offer a very watered down and shortened take on psycho pass’ possible ending(s) from a more literary theory-point of view, and hopefully inspire some fella writer out here. for this, i could go on a rant of literary theory and criticism but our medium does not fully fit in there as well as too little people would know what I’m going on about, and likely have life’s to care about unlike me. but if you guys wanna know what books i read to get a grasp of the theories and criticism for like, your own free time, i can link you the uni books i got. with so much blubber done beforehand, lets get to this under the cut, since this will contain some spoilers from season 3.

the full circle idea is a very classic and satisfying theory in both film and literature. i suppose it circles back to the human brain’s need for completion, and to bring something full circle is the easiest and most ideal way to mentally rest a case and finish things. its can be possible for psycho pass to finish that way. however, i believe there are some different aspects that don’t get emphasised as much as they should when trying to imagine the future of the world in psycho pass. for once, its a so-so chance for a piece of work from the genre of cyberpunk to end on a simple type of full circle. if we take the “father of cyberpunk”, william gibson’s neuromancer trilogy, as an example we will see something that is quite similar and that came up within season 3: the introduction of AI’s, and specifically, sybil’s interest in them. i don’t know if it was just me who was confused at the end of the season why the AI aspect was suddenly so important, literally obliterating interest in an entire character that seemed kind of important to some extent at least (r.i.p. karina komiya at this point) but looking in retrospect and after rewatching it, there is a whole lot of sense to it. the story of psycho pass more or less started with us meeting the world and its limitations, heavily focusing on the bad sides as we follow akane’s point of view for most of the story to the point where figures like mika shimotsuki feel outright wrong to us (disclaimer: i am personally not a big fan of her, but i have to say that 70% of the slander on her are missing some pretty important points regarding her, but that’s for another day). akane stated that one day, sybil will not be needed anymore, which is - let’s say it as it is - a very romantic and ideal way of thinking. but we’re all very morally correct idealists, this idea just speaks most to us. however, over the course of the three seasons (i shall exclude the movies for this) i think it became pretty clear that society with the established politics and functions cannot really return i.e. function without a system like sybil anymore. think of this as an evolutionary type of thing: people are so used to buy food that practically nobody will just willingly agree to stop all that and go hunting like in the “good” ol’ days. mental evolution has finally let us come to understand that for example, gender is nothing but a social construct and we all are just humans. we could not imagine going back to times like 1600s, where race and gender were categorised by some b*llshit f*cking idea like “god-given privilege” (pardon my language at this point). hence it lays rather logically close for people to just give up the comforts of a society which we see in psycho pass is very unlikely. the comforts of that world goes as far as pulling in immigrants from all over there world, which does underline this statement- even if we strictly assume that the entire world is in chaos and war, that just makes japan with its sybil system as something desirable. naturally, we could flip this coin in different ways for various argumentations, but it will all boil down to people should reject living like that but they likely won’t. and I think i do not point out something outrageous or illogical when i say that humans are willing to silently accept a lot of things, even when they really shouldn’t. and that is not just some theory, in episode 4 ma-karina’s existence is shown on broadcast, and yet still karina komiya ends up voted as the new governor. the society knows that she herself has an holographic AI doing work for her, yet they still accepted her, and subsequently, sybil accepted ma-karina as a “citizen” with voting right and hence, right to be nominated (which, if you remember, was this thing that unraveled at the end of first inspector). now, sybil’s motives in accepting an AI likely could be different, namely because it could bring the acceptance of society about the system’s true facade closer, but that is a mini-theory for another day if i’m honest. taking these points in consideration, the first likely option that might occur in psycho pass’ future could be similar to real world situations: more people will start to reject the idea (of AI ruling, especially if the truth about the system ever gets publicised) which then results in bringing forth change and evolution through humans, a very classic scenario. hence it would not finish with our main cast, (which mainly serve as our story teller’s) as triumphant in this battle of man vs machine, but rather with their testimonies of society, and how the begin of change can look like.

here i shall will finish my already long post here, but i will hint that i personally do a have another theory about how this series could go towards the end. but i will save that up for when the community actually wants to hear it.

thanks for reading, i hope it wasn’t too messy? i'd appreciate some feedback c:

#psycho pass #akane tsunemori #shinya kougami #ginoza nobuchika #psycho pass 3 #kei ignatov #arata shindo #sybil system #makarina #karina komiya

12 notes · View notes