#if im looking at this one obscure song why would i want someone in a completely different genre/country???? i dont care? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dexabite · 2 years ago

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because i'm bored: here's what i think about the characters of ride the cyclone!

ocean o'connell rosenberg:

definitely was a huge snob. in my language, we call those kind of people "maldita" HAHAHAH

she sounds so much like a high school bully that it's hilarious... but also, i feel like she was bullied in elem and was consequently also mean in highschool? idk she gives me that energy

DEFINITELY the kind of person to love legally blonde and mean girls and just projected it onto her persona LMAOO

though she's probably really very much a big softie once she developed at the end of the musical, but still hides it behind her bitchy and rude exterior

she looks like she would take someone's phone and squint whenever someone shows her a meme, like the way a mother would

noel gruber:

mean gay. that's it.

it's canon that whenever he's nervous or uncomfortable, he picks on his nail polish! and i love that! he's just like me fr!

i think the thing he really wanted was just a life outside of his simple one when he was alive... and i think monique gibeau was his drag persona

that said: NOEL DRAG QUEEN AAHHHH

feels like he would be more reserved because he's trying to look normal because of his mom yk, so he probably didn't have many friends outside of the choir (who weren't very close to begin with, judging from the way they talk in the beginning of the musical)

but besides that, he wants to be FLAMBOYANT and FEMININE and i love him

mischa bachinski:

iconic. stole boxes of communion wine for his eight year old cousin because of birthday. im in love with him.

sorry to noel, but he's the REAL most romantic boy in town. nothing compares to the way he sings about talia as if he couldn't live without her. get yourself a man like mischa.

probably loves ridiculous memes. would laugh at them for so long and show everyone in the choir

i think he doesn't actually watch horror movies but watches analysis videos on youtube about them like i do.

when he actually watches horror movies, he squirms around and does all of these weird movements and noises to cope with the fear 😭 not outright scream though, he's too emasculated /j

ricky potts:

he is an oc writer just like me. i love him for that.

was most likely into warrior cats as a kid, obviously marvel comics and star trek too. no way he wasn't.

he mooost likely didn't want to be in the choir in the first place but ocean forced him in it, based off his reaction to ocean trying to get people to like her again after singing about social darwinism 😭

that said, he's just like me fr... using escapism as a coping mechanism for his lonelines... i love you ricky and and your sexy cat ladies from zolar

and actually, i think he's one of the most underrated characters apart from constance which is such a SHAME...

he's so nerdy and JUST LIKE ME FR!!!

i think that before his hands degenerated, he was an artist. not a good one, but enough for people to recognize it!

jane doe:

CREEPYPASTA ENJOYER I CAN SMELL IT OFF OF HER.

creepy... i love her...

and i think that she's really good at crocheting, to add onto the whole doll aesthetic. makes tiny sweaters for ricky's cats, probably made a phone case for constance made out of wool... no matter how inconvenient it was

i think that noel would've painted her nails black too because she deserves it!!!

anyway, her and ricky are the "the bad bitch i got thanks to my autism" meme definitely. going both ways

anyway her actor's voice always sounds like an opera singers it's so impressive! that's why i believe that she can actually sing opera if they ask her to

definitely knows obscure facts about medieval torture and lions... just because!

FOORNICATION UNDER CONSENT OF THE KING!!!!

constance blackwood:

HER SONGS MAKE ME FEEL SO MANY THINGS IT'S CRAZY

the unique lesson of "there's no shame in loving my small town" ...my god you never hear that in musicals EVER

it's always "GET ME OUT OF HERE PLEASE!!!!" not the lesson that's in sugar cloud

that said, god... the fact that she doesn't like being called nice because it means that no one truly got close enough to her to know her for her goofiness... her weird thoughts, and her silly mannerisms and she had no one to vent to </3

hell, even her so called BEST FRIEND is mean to her!!!

but i feel like they'd still be close, despite that yk? best friends always stick together and as ocean develops more i think that they'd get closer until they're literally the only two who knows the other better than themselves

OH and i think that constance would've loved writing fanfic... she just has that kinda energy yk? she and noel would bond over writing and they'd talk about what they write and constance would hesitate because she doesn't want to admit that she writes gay fanfiction on ao3 😭🙏

#rtc #ride the cyclone #rtc musical #ride the cyclone musical #rtc jane doe #rtc constance #rtc mischa #rtc noel #rtc ocean #rtc ricky #i love this musical with all my heart and soul.#rtc hcs #ride the cyclone headcanons #ride the cyclone hcs #rtc headcanons

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reidsnose · 4 years ago

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Neighborly

overview: spencer has a new upstairs neighbor who arrives at the same time as the BAUs newest agent

genre: fluff

a/n: this one isnt very romantic but i think its cuteee and could definitely maybe have a part two or something if yall want so lmk what you think :)

masterlist

Spencer could not stand his new upstairs neighbor.

she had moved in a few months ago. he had never met her (he assumed she was a girl based on the fall of her footsteps and the music she would sometimes blast) but she always seemed to be up when he was getting home from a case. infact, she was always home when he was and she paid absolutely no heed to her downstairs neighbor when she was walking around at 2 in the morning. not that Spencer could sleep anyway, but if he could, it would be exponentially more annoying.

he assumed she was some sort of first responder, maybe a nurse or doctor, because she had incredibly weird hours. or maybe she had no job, or worked from home. after all, he had never seen her and he had no proof of whether she was home when he was not.

he would come to work and occasionally complain to the team about her, how she was walking around and keeping him up.

"why don't you knock on her door and ask her to stop? thats what i would do but all my neighbors are quiet as a mouse." you offered, spinning nonchalantly on your chair one morning.

"yeah newbie is right. just ask her." morgan agreed.

"i cant do that! that would be rude." Spencer shook his head as he spoke.

you laughed, "think of it as being neighborly."

"i dont think telling someone theyre bothering you is very neighborly." he chuckled.

"bake her a cake that says 'kindly shut the hell up' in icing."

"i cant bake!" he whined

you laughed, ruffling his hair, "i dont know what to tell you. just suffer i guess."

he groaned, stifling a smile at the obscurity of your sentence. or maybe at the entire essence of your being. you could always make him smile, and that was a difficult thing to do. you had only been welcomed to the team a few months ago but in a matter of days he decided he probably liked you best on the whole team.

you definitely felt the same about him.

after some regular banter, everyone got to work, filling out and organizing old case files. paperwork days were a breeze for Spencer, almost therapeutic. writing up a report on a case and then being done with it, never having to think about it again after that.

you were breezing through work today as well, wanting to get home as soon as you possibly could. there was a new episode of your favorite show airing tonight and you did not want to miss it. and you had another reason.

theres is a rumor in your building about an elusive man that lives in the apartment below yours. all the old women on your floor always talk about him to you. they said he's rarely home, and when he is, you wouldn't know the difference. but he's very kind, often rushing to help them up the stairs or with groceries. and apparently, you always just miss each other by a matter of minutes.

so you've been trying to arrive home at different times, switching it up by a matter of minutes. but so far that hasn't worked.

when the clock struck 5pm you were ready to practically run out of the doors of the bullpen, excited to finally be on time to watch your show and maybe hopefully run into mystery man.

the team sent you confused glances as you rushed to stuff your belongings into your bag.

"my show!" is all you said explanation, as you slung your bag across your shoulder and speed walked out of the building, "bye guys!"

"she is something," prentiss chuckled after you left, sitting on the corner of your now empty desk.

"how does she have all that energy?" morgan laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"she takes her coffee/tea [ur coffee/tea order]. and she naps all the time." spencer's responded eyes glued to his computer screen. all eyes were now on him and his vast knowledge about you. he looked up and felt his face flush, "i- i think." he looked back at his computer in attempt to hide his embarrassment, "or maybe she just doesn't have an annoying upstairs neighbor keeping her up."

a couple of snickers followed as they dispersed back to their seats and began getting ready to go home as well. Spencer thought about his neighbor, wondering if he hurried home, maybe she wouldn't be there yet.

so he packed up and began heading out, hopping on the train and wondering if his hypothesis would be correct.

it wasn't.

when he got home he heard the rhythmic stomping of his upstairs neighbor dancing. he rolled his eyes; she was dancing to some short song that was likely the intro to a tv show. he sighed. there was no point in complaining now, it wasn't late at night and she turned down her tv volume once the song was done.

he collapsed exhausted on the couch, turning on some quiet piano as his eyes drooped closed.

your show finished after an hour and you started getting a little sleepy so you decided to take a nap on your couch.

you weren't sure how much time had passed but you woke up on the floor, your hip aching. you had fallen off of your couch in your sleep. you groaned as you sat up.

Spencer jolted awake at the sudden thud from upstairs, his eyes shooting open and his heart racing. he wasn't sure if he was more annoyed at the fact that she woke him up, or how she woke him up. but he felt bad, it sounded like a person falling. was she ok? what if she was hurt and he was sat here rolling his eyes about it? it was very late, his clock read 1:34am.

he was curious to meet her finally...and maybe going upstairs would make her more conscious and considerate of her poor, tired downstairs neighbor.

should he check on her?

you were startled by the knock at your door, glancing over at the clock and seeing how late it was. you cursed yourself for putting an obnoxious wreath on your door because it was covering your peep hole. you grabbed a baseball bat that you kept hidden under your table.

just as Spencer was about to walk away, the door opened and his eyes gazed up from the floor to finally see the face of his insufferable upstairs neighbor.

"Spencer? are you alright? come in. what are you doing at my house in the middle of the night?" you chuckled, tossing the baseball bat aside.

"no way.." he breathed in utter disbelief, looking around for a roommate that could be the one making all the noise.

"um...what?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

his mind moving a mile a minute and suddenly it all made sense. the music was the same as what you played in the car because it was your playlist. the steps were obviously female because they were yours that he'd often heard echo around the office. and you had never crossed paths because he took the train, and you took your car, so you would never leave at the same time. and you were always home when he was because you'd come back from cases at weird hours.

"i should have baked you a cake," he said finally breaking the silence.

you let out a confused laugh, "why?"

"so i could write 'kindly shut the hell up' on it with icing." he laughed as your eyes widened as your brain connected the dots.

"IM THE ANNOYING UPSTAIRS NEIGHBOR?!" your hand flew to cover your mouth, embarrassed at your volume level this late at night.

"i cant believe i didn't connect the dots!" he laughed, dumbfounded.

"wait.." your eyes grew impossibly wider, "if i'm you're annoying upstairs neighbor...that makes you mystery man!"

"mystery man?"

"can i explain tomorrow its like ass o'clock in the morning right now."

he laughed, "yes but only because someone woke me up from my nap."

"i was just being neighborly."

"mhm," he hummed.

you were sleepily staring at each other, dopey smiles complimenting the comfortable silence settling in the air. the sudden butterflies erupting in your stomach startled you into breaking the silence.

"goodnight Spencer," you whispered.

"goodnight y/n." he smiled, giving a small wave before heading down the stairs back to his own apartment.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #dr reid #reid #bau #bau x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #criminal minds fanfiction

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eliemo · 4 years ago

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Permafrost: Chapter 2

Summary: After Virgil agrees to follow Roman into the Imagination, a shift in the weather and an unfortunate misstep sends Virgil plummeting into uncharted waters. If only it didn’t take a matter of life or death and a race against time to realize the Prince might not hate him after all.

TW: Drowning, effects of severe cold, steps of CPR

Notes: Romantic Prinxiety (pre relationship) I tried to make the effects in this chapter as realistic as possible but if some things are inaccurate no they aren’t

Permafrost taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck @snowyfires @the-sympathetic-villain @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @itsjust-la-me @ray-does-stuff @brokaw22 @johnlaurensintheplacetobe @teamplutoforlife @myrandomfandoms12 @riverdoesbadart

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Roman knew his role, and he played it well. He was the hero, charging into battle and adventures without a second thought, smiling in the face of bloodthirsty beasts with his sword at his side. Princes weren’t cowards.

But when Virgil lost his grip and went under, Roman had never been so scared in his entire life.

“Virgil!”

He’d been so close, finally dropping to his knees on the unsteady ice and desperately reaching out, fingers just brushing freezing cold skin when the current took advantage of Virgil’s rapidly waning strength and pulled him under.

Roman’s own scream, hollow and empty and terrified, echoed right back at him, thrown in his face to remind him that he’d been too slow-

He pushed his own thoughts aside (he could blame himself later. God why hadn’t he been faster?) and plunged his arm into the water until he was shoulder deep, hissing against the sudden sting of the cold.

But Roman didn’t have the place to complain, not when Virgil had just been completely submerged right in front of him.

It had all happened so fast, Roman reaching into the violent river less than a second after Virgil disappeared, so maybe- maybe there was still enough time. Please please please let him be fast enough-

His fingers found something soft and solid, just barely managing to grab onto what he was almost positive was Virgil’s hoodie (please please let it be Virgil’s hoodie) before it was swept away completely.

He was almost yanked into the water himself by the force of the current, the river fighting relentlessly to pry Virgil away, and Roman felt a sudden rush of irrational anger.

He wasn’t sure where it came from, something defiant and protective that wrapped around his chest- something that went deeper than his desire to be someone’s hero. Because he was Creativity, and this was his realm. It didn’t get to take anything from him.

It didn’t get to take Virgil.

Roman reared back, mind almost blank as he fought against the water and pulled Virgil back towards the surface, heart skipping a beat when he finally caught a glimpse of purple hair floating in the freezing water.

He hadn’t lost him. He was ok, he would be ok, Roman would make sure of it. Virgil was not going to die because Roman had been a little too eager to spend time with the recently accepted side.

He moved closer to the edge, forcing himself to ignore the way the already unstable ice creaked dangerously, letting out a sky breath when he was able to get two hands hooked under Virgil's shoulders.

It was only then, pulling against the weight of the water trying to drag them both down, that he realized Virgil wasn’t fighting back. He was perfectly still, no more kicking or struggling as the current kept him under.

No. No no no. He wasn’t too late. He wasn’t too late. Virgil would be fine.

Roman honestly wasn’t sure how he managed to gain the upper hand in his fight with the current. It was strength he doubted he could have harnessed under any other circumstance, a sudden rush of adrenaline he imagined Thomas got from Virgil sometimes right before rushing on stage and pouring his heart out in front of an audience.

Maybe it was the last of Virgil’s strength bleeding into Roman’s determination, a last desperate attempt to help save his own life. The two of them had always been a good team, even if they hadn’t realized it sooner.

Virgil finally broke the surface, Romans’s arms wrapped firmly around his chest as he dragged him onto the ice, terrified he would lose his grip and let Virgil slip through his hands when they were so close to being safe.

There was no gasp for air, no coughing or sputtering as he choked and spat out water. Virgil was out of the river, but he was still unmoving and silent, lips and fingertips tinged an alarming shade of blue.

But that was ok. It was ok! (It wasn’t ok- it was the farthest thing from ok.) The ice creaked again, shifting a bit under the added weight, and Roman forced himself to move before he got them both killed.

“You’re ok,” Roman said, despite Virgil remaining limp and unresponsive as he carefully scooped the anxious side up off the ground. He had to do something to fill the suffocating silence. “You’re ok, you’re fine. I’ve got you. You’re ok.”

The ice was definitely unsteady as Roman brought them back to the surrounding snow, but it thankfully didn’t crack or give way any further. Apparently Virgil had managed to find the most unstable chunk in what could easily be the deepest part of the lake.

And Roman had kept walking. Roman had teased and waved off his panic. And then when he realized what had happened, when he’d heard the genuine terror in Virgil’s voice, it had already been too late. He’d been too far away.

But Virgil was in his arms now. Virgil was...he was limp against Roman’s chest, river water leaking from his mouth, and he wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t breathing.

He pushed down his panic, even as his head spun and his hands shook from more than just the cold, carefully setting Virgil down in the snow against the nearest tree trunk, the bare twisted branches offering a bit of shelter from the snowfall.

Virgil was horribly pale, even more than usual, and Roman hated how he blended in with the ground, everything a startling shade of white save for the heavy tint of blue his lips had gained.

Roman reached forward with shaking hands, holding his breath as he pressed two fingers against the ice cold skin below Virgil’s jaw, searching frantically for a pulse while his eyes welled up with tears.

There was nothing there. There was nothing, Virgil didn’t have a pulse, and Roman wanted to sob. “Hang on,” he whispered to no one, because he wasn’t sure what to say when his friend looked like a corpse. “Just hang on, Virge.”

Before he could stare too long and spiral into worry, because Virgil’s face should never look so lifeless, Roman squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to try and recall what Logan taught them to do in a situation like this.

It had been years ago, and Roman had decided the lesson was boring, unnecessary, and not worth his attention. And of course, now it was a matter of life and death, and he was struggling to remember a word Logan had said.

It had been Virgil’s idea for Logan to teach them all how to perform CPR. “You never know what could happen. It’s just better to be prepared.” He’d insisted.

Back then, Roman had chalked it up to Anxiety just trying to ruin their fun and keep everyone paranoid for his own twisted amusement. He really made himself sick sometimes.

If Virgil was awake right now, he would be rolling his eyes and teasing him for being such a stubborn idiot. Virgil had always just been trying to help. To keep them all safe. And Roman had always responded with suspicion and hostility.

But he wasn’t awake, and if Roman didn’t remember this stupid lecture Logan had given, he might never wake up again.

Roman racked his brain as hard as he could, his eyes squeezed shut as he fought to picture Logan’s voice. After pulling someone from the water you have to…you have to move them…on their back!

Roman rushed to move Virgil so he was laying down, working quickly yet handling the anxious side as if he were made of glass. He slowly and carefully placed him flat on his back, making sure he didn’t hit his head on the ground.

Ok, first step finished. Roman closed his eyes again as he reached into his memory for what to do next. He had to put his hands- no, his palms- on Virgil’s stomach. His stomach? No, it was...it was...his chest? His chest!

Roman wished more than anything Virgil was over his shoulder, gently poking fun at the Prince’s scrambled thoughts.

But he wasn’t, and Roman unzipped the soaking wet hoodie to place his hands on Virgil’s chest, one hand crossed over the other, mirroring the way he remembered Logan had positioned his own hands on the practice dummy he’d made Roman conjure.

Now, all he had to do was push down to the beat of ‘Stayin’ Alive’, just like The Office taught him, and then move to tilt Virgil’s head back, pinch his nose closed, and breathe for him until the anxious side’s chest could rise on its own.

Roman wasted no time starting the motions. He hummed the tune under his breath to keep the rhythm, quickly deciding that once this was over he would never be able to hear that song again.

But that didn’t matter right now. Right now he just needed Virgil to breathe.

But...but he wasn’t. Roman lost track of how many times he pressed down on Virgil’s chest, how many times he repeated that song over and over in his head, the compressions getting a little bit more desperate every time.

He lost count of how many times he leaned over his friend to send a breath rattling down his throat, trembling and lightheaded as he touched Virgil’s frigid skin, only able to silently hope his lungs would get the message and bring him back.

“Come on, Virgil,” he found himself pleading, vision obscured by gathering tears. “Come on, wake up! You can do it, I know you can do it. Just come back, ok? You’re gonna be ok, just breathe! Please, Virgil please. We...I can’t lose you! You have to wake up!”

Was he doing something wrong? Had he just been too late? Too slow? Too stupid? If it was anyone else, Vigil would have already been awake by now, conscious and breathing.

...If it were anyone else, Virgil wouldn’t have fallen in the lake at all. Virgil wouldn’t even be here. He’d be warm and safe in someone else’s arms and Roman wouldn’t be kneeling in the snow, begging him to open his eyes.

He needed Virgil to wake up. He needed him. It had taken him so long to see it, pushing it down and covering it up with insults and nicknames and denial, but now...now Roman didn’t think he could handle losing Virgil.

He couldn’t lose Virgil’s voice, his smile, the way the whole world seemed brighter when Roman got the anxious side to laugh. Virgil was kind and sharp and funny, and he cared so much. He was...he was perfect, and Roman--

Virgil suddenly jolted under his hands, making a horrible sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a cough, eyes flying open in panic as he fought and struggled for air he couldn’t get.

Roman’s cry of relief came out as something closer to a sob, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, scrambling off of Virgil and not bothering to wipe the tears from his face.

Prince thankfully had the sense to turn Virgil on his side to keep him from choking, wincing at the string of wet coughs and hacking coming from the soaked figure in the snow.

It sounded horrible, Virgil’s breaths coming in strangled wheezes as he coughed and spewed up what looked like half the river, but right now it was the most beautiful noise Roman had ever heard.

He couldn’t imagine how much pain the other side was in right now, every breath an agonized and confused fight for air, but it at least meant Virgil was alive.

“You’re ok,” Roman said, voice still unsteady and raw from crying. “Hey, you’re ok, you’re alright. Just let it out, you’re doing great.”

Virgil was obviously too busy throwing up water to respond, and Roman suddenly had no idea what he was supposed to do.

“I’m here,” he offered, tentatively scooting closer, terrified he would just make everything worse. “You’re ok, Virgil. It’s ok.”

He carefully placed a hand on Virgil’s back, rubbing small circles in between his shoulder blades. The hoodie was just as soaked as the rest of him, heavy and cold and probably clinging to his skin. It was impossible not to notice how hard Virgil was shaking, teeth chattering so much Roman could hear it over the wind.

Gosh, Virgil must be freezing.

“R- Ro...R-Roman.” He coughed again, and Roman wrapped an arm around him to keep Virgil from falling flat on his face. “R-Roman--”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He pulled Virgil back to lean against his chest, frowning at how the hoodie still dripped with icy water. “I’m gonna help you, ok? We’re gonna get you warmed up.”

Roman moved to take the lapels of the hoodie, gently trying to slide it off the shivering side, tearing up again when Virgil made a noise of protest, scared and small. He tried to cling onto the garment, but his hands were too unsteady to get a good grip.

“I know,” Roman said. “But the hoodie’s soaked, Virge. It’s just making things worse, I need to get it off.”

Either Virgil understood and stopped fighting, or he didn’t have the strength to struggle anymore, but he dropped his arms and leaned even more into the Prince’s side. He just hoped Virgil recognized Roman was trying to help.

The hoodie wasn’t easy to get off, the cloth clinging to Virgil’s bare arms, the anxious side whimpering when the wind hit his skin. “P-please, please d-don’t...Roman--”

“I know.” God, Virgil was barely able to get his words out through his own chattering teeth. “I know it’s cold, but just hang in there. Please.”

Roman wasted no time once the hoodie was off. He quickly laid it out beside them on the snow, hoping the wind would at least do something to dry it off, and repositioned himself slightly, one hand still wrapped carefully around Virgil’s chest.

He detached his red sash first, tossing it carelessly into the snow and vowing not to leave it, or the hoodie, behind. It took a few seconds, Virgil still leaned heavily up against him, but Roman managed to shrug off his white jacket, shuddering when that left him in just a black t-shirt.

It was freezing, the ruthless wind like a flurry of knives against his skin, but Roman forced himself to grit his teeth and ignore it. If he was cold, he couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be soaking wet.

And Virgil was probably aching and bruised from the compressions…

“Here,” Roman said, heart dropping at the fear and confusion in Virgil’s cloudy eyes. “Put this on, alright? You’re gonna be ok.”

Virgil made another quiet, indecipherable noise but didn’t protest when Roman draped the jacket over his shoulders, and the prince was able to help guide his hands through the slightly too big sleeves.

Any other time, under any other circumstances, Roman imagined seeing the anxious side wearing the prince’s jacket would be something that would leave them both smiling like idiots, Roman left trying in vain to hide his rising blush.

Now, it was just a desperate act to keep Virgil alive.

Roman wrapped his arms around him and pulled Virgil close to his chest, desperate to offer as much warmth as he could, the shivering from the other side still beyond alarming. At least his lips and fingertips no longer held that terrifying shade of blue.

He shut his eyes for a moment, dropping his forehead to rest against Virgil’s soaking wet hair, trying to figure out what on earth he was supposed to do. They needed to move, to get Virgil back home safe as soon as possible, but it was still another forty minutes or so to the Imagination door.

He never should have brought Virgil so far out, not with how unpredictable his realm could be. Roman had just...wanted an excuse to spend more time with the anxious side.

He’d wanted Virgil to see him be the hero. For once, he’d wanted to be the hero in Virgil’s eyes, not just Thomas’s. He’d been so stupid.

They couldn’t stay here, not while the snow continued to fall and the wind showed no sign of stopping.

He’d carry Virgil the entire way if he had to, he knew that for sure. But the longer the storm kept up, the temperature slowly but surely dropping further, the more it was looking like he’d have to. They couldn’t afford to move slowly.

He didn’t know what he’d been silently hoping for. Maybe for the weather to become warm again, or for Virgil to magically get better, to sit up with his skin back to its normal paleness and make a snarky comment about Roman worrying too much.

“Jeez, are you trying to steal my job, Princey?” he’d ask, smirking when Roman sputtered and blushed under the accusation. God, he’d give anything to have Virgil back to normal.

But the sky wasn't clear, Virgil’s declining health only seemed to be getting worse, and Roman knew that the longer he waited, the worse it would only get.

“Hey, we need to keep moving,” Roman said, hoping Virgil could understand him. “You still with me? I’m gonna pick you up, alright?”

He felt Virgil cough again, still a broken rattling sound that sent dread clawing up Roman’s throat, and he watched the anxious side reach up to grab at the material of the jacket wrapped around him.

“M’ here,” he said, and he was clearly trying so hard to speak clearly. “I- I can...I c-can walk.”

“Let me help you,” Roman insisted, even as his heart swelled with pride. He wondered if Virgil recognized his own bravery. “We’ll be home soon.”

He carefully maneuvered one of Virgil’s arms over his shoulder and counted to three under his breath before slowly lifting the anxious side off the ground.

He froze immediately when Virgil let out a strangled gasp, broken up immediately by ragged coughs, his shivering body going tense as his free hand flew to his stomach, trying to wrap his arm around himself.

“F-fuck,” Virgil hissed when he had his breath back, and Roman eased them both back into the snow when his knees started to buckle. “Ow, ow, ow, what...Ro-Roman--”

“I’m here,” Roman said. “I’m right here, Virgil. What hurts?”

“R-r-ribs, and- and I...I don’t...what’re we--?”

“Shoot, uh...I think I did that.” Oh god, he’d hurt Virgil. He’d really messed up everything today, hadn’t he? “I had to give you CPR.”

“You...I- I don’t- why?”

“You fell in the river,” Roman explained, trying not to panic at Virgil’s sudden memory loss. That was normal, right? He was just a little confused, no reason to freak out yet. “Remember? I think the cold really got to you and- and I’m...I’m really sorry. God, I’m so sorry Virgil. I tried to get to you but--”

“Y-you-” Another cough, just as terrifying as all the others. “-you pulled m-me up?”

Roman frowned, hating the bewildered confusion in Virgil’s voice. “I did. Of course I did. But you...you weren’t breathing and I couldn’t find a pulse and I...I thought you were...I thought--”

“Well I- I’m f-fine,” Virgil rasped, dangerously pale and shivering and the farthest thing from fine. “Y-you...you really are my hero huh, P-Princey?”

It was like something curled around Roman’s chest, squeezing at his heart so suddenly he felt a little lightheaded. Virgil’s hero. He wanted so badly to believe that.

But he couldn’t- not when Virgil was trembling in his arms and struggling to form a single sentence.

“I’m getting you home,” Roman vowed, holding the anxious side just a little bit tighter. “I promise you that. Just...let me carry you. Please.”

Virgil slumped, his shaky grip growing almost desperate- despite still being painfully weak- but he nodded against Roman’s chest. “It’s...it’ s-so cold.”

Roman didn’t know how much time had passed since he had put his own jacket on Virgil, but while it hadn’t seemed to do much to improve Virgil’s condition, the lack of protection was definitely getting to Roman.

He found he didn’t mind though, not when Virgil was awake and breathing, aware enough to talk just a little. But he knew it was only a matter of time until their luck ran out.

Roman carefully repositioned the anxious side still curled in his arms so he could better hold him in a bridal carry, shushing him gently when Virgil made a pained sound as the Prince stood, stumbling slightly in the thick snow.

“I know,” Roman said, barely audible over the howling wind. “Just hang in there, Stormcloud. We’ll be home before you know it. We’re so close, Virgil.”

He started forward again, hoping Virgil wasn’t aware enough to catch on to Roman’s own rising anxiety.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts roman #hypothermia #hurt/comfort #writing #fanfiction

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vikingqueer · 4 years ago

Text

music recommendations because i have some thoughts™

i don't wanna be that person who's like "my music taste is so weird lol" but i find that very often most of my friends don't really care for the music i like so i thought i'd just make a long ass post about it on tumblr instead. Fair warning, I'm very passionate about MIKA and The Mechanisms and so this very quickly got VERY long because it is part of my ongoing campaign to convince people to listen to mika and the mechs.

1) MIKA in general, but especially My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019) and No Place In Heaven (2015) (especially the Deluxe version!!)

MIKA is a kind of British singer (half Lebanese, grew up in France blabla), and you probably know him for Grace Kelly and Relax, Take It Easy from his first album Life In Cartoon Motion from 2007. He writes a lot of FUN music, interspersed with the occasional slightly sadder song, especially when looking at an album like No Place In Heaven, which contains a lot of songs with gay themes, resulting in some songs that are just a little bit ouch. He's originally classically trained and has a frankly RIDICULOUS range and idk he just writes very good pop music. Also I have so much respect for that time he talked about how a lot of pop is very fake, with like expensive cars and stilettos and mini skirts in the snow and said "Because I walk down the street, and I don't see any of that. I see fat women and gay men. I don't know... That's real". He's written 5 albums; My Name Is Michael Holbrook (2019), No Place In Heaven (2015), The Origin Of Love (2012), The Boy Who Knew Too Much (2009), and Life In Cartoon Motion (2007).

For starters, I recommend listening to Last Party, Origin Of Love, Grace Kelly, Blame It On The Girls, Blue, Happy Ending, Pick Up Off The Floor, Last Party, Underwater, Tomorrow and Tiny Love (yes this is a long list but i REALLY love MIKA). If you want a slightly broader palette that's not just my favourites, I recommend the Mika starter pack on spotify.

2) The Mechanisms. I warn you. I am making this a thing. I have been obsessed with the mechs since last march.

Boy, where to start? The Mechanisms were a British 9 member space pirate story-telling cabaret that "died" in January 2020. They rewrite songs to fit retellings of various stories. I don't even know what genre I'd describe them as, but probably folk but steam-punk?? Their 4 "main" albums are concept albums, and I honestly just recommend listening to the from beginning to end in chronological order. A good way to get into the mechs is also to listen to UDAD and then watching the live show on youtube or alternately try giving Death To The Mechanisms a listen, to get good quality live show audio of TBI and various other stuff. Also, it was streamed on YouTube and someone combined the footage with the album audio and it rocks. Really, I think the mechs' best selling points are honestly just their concept albums:

Once Upon a Time (In Space) Their first album from 2012. I'd say this is the most "easily digestible" for the general public, since it's a retelling of various fairytales. So, what if Old King Cole was in fact not merry, but rather a cold-blooded dictator, intent on colonising as much of the galaxy as possible. What if Snow White was a general, looking to avenge what King Cole did to her sister, Rose. What if Cinderella was to be wedded to Rose the day that King Cole attacked in order to kidnap Rose? But y'know, In Space and also like every other mechs album it's a beautiful tragedy. Fave songs are Old King Cole, Pump Shanty, and No Happy Ending.

Ulysses Dies at Dawn You guessed it, it's a story about Odysseus, or Ulysses because I guess Ulysses is easier to rhyme or fit in the meter or something, idk. Ulysses is a war hero of unknown gender who is said to keep something that could take down the corrupt Olympians, meanest families in the City, in a vault to which only they know the passcode. Oedipus, Heracles, Orpheus, and Ariadne have been hired by Hades, who happens to be The Mechs' quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, to get into Ulysses' vault. I didn't care much for udad at first, but honestly it's got some real bangers and the story is really good. UDAD weirdly stands out as the only of the concept albums to not feature any gay relationships, per se. Fave songs are Riddle of the Sphinx, Favoured Son, and Underworld Blues.

High Noon over Camelot This is my favourite mehcs album. So basically, this is Arthurian legend, but it's a space western and Jonny D'Ville does a bad southern accent. This is the story of the cowboy lovers Arther, Lancelot, and Guinevere searching for the Galfridian Restricted Acces Interface Login, or GRAIL, in order to stop their world from falling into the sun. Meanwhile, Mordred and Gawaine are ruling Camelot, and Mordred has convinced Gawaine to try to establish peace with the Saxons by whom Mordred was raised, but Gawaine hates viciously. If you love getting your heart broken and songs by a fucking off the rails batshit preacher I HIGHLY recommend hnoc. Fave songs are Gunfight at the Dolorous Guard, Blood and Whiskey, and Once and Future King. Honorary mention for Hellfire because it awakens something animalistic in me.

The Bifrost Incident TBI is the frankly only good adaptation of norse mythology I've ever known of, and I say that as Dane who was literally forced to learn things about norse mythology in school because it's my heritage or whatever. I've been listening to TBI a lot lately because it's VERY good. It's definitely the most refined of the mechs' albums (because it's the newest) but also I just love a little bit of cosmic horror. 80 years ago, Odin, the All-Mother, ruler of Asgaard, launched a train through the wormhole Bifrost that would reduce the travel between Asgaard and Midgaard from 3 months to 3 days, but things didn't go quite as planned. Lyfrassir Edda of the New Midgaard Transport Police is trying to solve the case of why suddenly the train has arrived 80 years late; to figure out whether it was accident or maybe it was sabotaged by Loki, who was allegedly sentence to death her murder of Baldur, by the Midgaardian resistance led by Loki's wife Sigyn, or maybe by Thor, who was to take over after Odin, and who holds quite the grudge because he used to be a friend of Loki's. You might've heard the song Thor from this album, it's apparently quite popular. Fave songs are Loki, Ragnarok III: Strange Meeting, and Ragnarok V: End of The Line. Yet again an honorary mention: Red Signal because while Lovecraft was a bitch, his invocations are fucking RAW.

Basically, the Mechanisms do all of their performances in character as captain first mate Jonny D'Ville, quartermaster Ashes O'Reilly, pilot DrumBot Brian, master-at-arms Gunpowder Tim, science officer Raphaella la Cognizi, doctor Baron Marius Von Raum (neither a baron, nor a doctor), archivist Ivy Alexandria, engineer Nastya Rasputina, and The Toy Soldier, who is, as usual, present. You can find very obscure lore about the crew of the Aurora here, tidbits on Tales To Be Told and TTBT Vol. 2, such as One Eyed Jacks, The Ignominious Demise of Dr. Pilchard, Gunpowder Tim vs. The Moon Kaiser, Lucky Sevens, and Lost in the Cosmos.

If you feel like listening to a full 40-50 minute album to find out if you like a band is a bit much, I recommend listening to one of the mini stories Alice, Swan Song, or Frankenstein, which are about 12, 5 and 9:30 minutes respectively.

3) The Amazing Devil You know that guy who played Jaskier in the Witcher? I got into The Amazing Devil from spotify recommending them because I listened to the mechs, and apparently Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil is the same Joey Batey who was in the Witcher. Both him and Madeleine Hyland are VERY talented singers and songwriters and their second album The Horror and the Wild makes me go out into the forest and SCREAM. I listened to it on repeat for like a month straight. I guess they'd also be considered folk, but like. New Folk. Also yes, this is another British artist, I don't know why I'm like this. I've never really gotten that into their first album, Love Run, but King slaps. As I understand there's this whole lore about the Blue Furious Boy and Scarlet Scarlet, Joey and Madeleine respectively, but unlike the Mechanisms it's actually possible to find out things about the actual real people and harder to find the obscure lore? I'm open for people to please help me. Fave songs are The Horror and the Wild, Farewell Wanderlust, and That Unwanted Animal, which is literally a third of their second album, but again. I haven't really listened to Love Run that much, and I just LOVE the harmonies on THATW. (also im gay and dramatic leave me alone)

4) dodie I have so much love for this woman. Like many others, I first knew dodie as doddleoddle on youtube. I think I first stumbled across her in probably 2015, because I distinctly already knew her before she released her first EP Sick of Losing Soulmates in 2016. I think I watched probably every video she's ever made in the span of a few weeks. I just loved her quiet sound and was absolutely HOOKED. Also she's actually the reason I got into MIKA originally, so thanks for that. Dodie just realeased her first album Build A Problem (in addition to her three EP's; the one mentioned above, You, and Human) and it slaps. Yes dodie is also British Fave songs are probably Monster, Rainbow, and In The Middle.

5) Cladia Boleyn Unfortunately, Claudia Boleyn only has three singles and that's it. She's been making content on youtube for quite a while, and that's how I first discovered her. I don't know what genre her music is, but I like it. The songs are Celesta, George, and Mother Maiden Crone, of which the latter is my favourite. I'm not saying Claudia Boleyn invented women in 2017 when she released Mother Maiden Crone, but she did. Also you guessed it, Claudia Boleyn is British.

6) Hozier I'm not about to tell you about Hozier. You know who he is. Listen to Nina Cried Power, Angel Of Small Death & The Codeine Scene, and Shrike. Also Hozier isn't stricly British in that he is definitely from A British Isle, but Ireland is not part of the UK. Give me a break.

7) Oh Land Oh Land IS DANISH. I like her early music best, because I'm not that into the electronic sound. I guess Oh Land is just you regular old pop, but with the occasional weird vibe? Oddly enough, I like her first album Fauna best. Unfortunately I haven't really listened to her newest album Family Tree much, but it seems good? Fave songs are Frostbite, Love You Better and Family Tree. I cried on the bus, first time I listened to the Danish version of Love You Better, Elsker Dig Mer because my mother tongue always just hits harder. Also Frostbite is Oh Land doing a duet with herself which is pretty cool.

8) Oysterband This is a live recommendation. I mean they're a decent folk band and all, but they're a fucking experience live. If you like folk and you ever get the opportunity to see Oysterband live, do it. Unfortunately, yes. They are British. Either way, they are incredible on a scene and I think they deserve a mention for that.

9) Ben Platt Honestly don't know much about this guy, but he's not British and he was in Dear Evan Hansen. He released an album in 2019, Sing To Me Instead, and I just think it's a good album, there isn't really not much more to it. Fave songs are Grow As We Go, Bad Habit, and In Case You Don't Live Forever.

and thats all for now. this has been a ramble. shout out to you if you actually read all of this, especially the mechs part.

#music stuff #amalie.txt #music recommendations #mika #the mechanisms #the amazing devil #dodie #claudia boleyn #hozier #oh land #oysterband #ben platt

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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Hi! Love your writing! Can you write an imagine to the song she? Like Harry keeps having dreams of Y/N but he doesn’t know who she is & one day when he’s in the US(let’s say New Jersey possibly lol) he bumps into her & they both feel like they’ve met before but can’t figure it out? Something like that I probably did a crappy job of explaining it im sorry lol.

I absolutely! loved this request!! i love writing based off of songs, i always have little notes about writing stuff about various songs plus SHE IS A RELIGION IN AND OF ITSELF. I love every bit, especially Mitch’s solo - feels like i’m flying. Anyway I hope I did your request justice bc I loved it :) lots of love.

She wandered around the patch of poppies aimlessly. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the sky. Her hands were held out beside her as she began to spin, eyes still trained on the clouds above her. The look on her face was wistful, ethereal.

Harry stared on at the sight in front of him. He ran slowly to catch up with the woman in front of him. She noticed him approaching him and looked at him, smiling broadly. The smile was golden, emblazoned in Harry’s mind. He just wanted to make her smile forever.

When he finally caught up to her, she threw her arms around him and laughed boisterously. He swung her around, his hands on her waist as her legs left the ground as if she were flying. She continued her lovely laughter.

When Harry let her go, she ran a hand down the side of his face and then pushed back up and through his hair. He nuzzled into her touch and then she was gone. Running off again, to a tree she saw in the distance.

Soon they were there, Harry having to run after her again. When he arrived, he couldn’t see her. He called for her, “Love!” She popped out from behind the large tree trunk and laughter sprang from her once again. She licked her lips and then bit down on them. “Isn’t this just…” “Perfect,” Harry finished for her.

She gave him a wink before lunging at him again. This time the two of them fell onto the perfectly lush green grass beneath them. There, they rolled around, laughter and words of love passed between them. Until finally, she lay beside Harry. His one arm underneath her body, cradling her close to him. His other caressing her soft face.

She whispered something inaudible and moved her nose to brush against him, on her way to kiss his plush lips.

Harry groaned at the sound of his alarm, ringing, ringing, ringing. He moved his hand to feel the sheets beside him. Empty. He huffed a sigh. Just like always, in recent months, he was alone. Yet his dream last night had felt so real. So right. The dream now nothing but a memory. He tried to hold onto it, but it slipped from his mind’s grasp. The details of the woman’s face, that had once been so clear, washed away. Her voice fading into the whispering of the wind. Just like always, she was gone when he woke up.

He got up to look out the window of his hotel room. New York City lay before his eyes. The constant bustle was wearing on him, not only of just New York but of his tour. It was soon to come to an end - and he loved it of course, but he also loved the quiet - and he was grateful. Today, he had a respite, a day off before the next show. He decided he wanted to get out of the city instead of exploring it like he usually did when he was there. He told everyone he wanted to be alone today and went to the subway on his own. From there he took a train into New Jersey. While close to New York and New York City, he knew he could get away from the nonstop life that only New York City knew how to create. Once he arrived in a little town in New Jersey, he looked up places to go. He found a coffee shop nearby that seemed lovely and a library down the street from it where he knew he could find solace.

After he had gotten his black coffee, he ventured to the library. He noticed it was tranquil. The birds sang a sweet melody and the wind only rustled the leaves slightly. The leaves of a large tree above a patch of lovely grass. His eyes traveled left of the tree and noticed a woman sat at the bench beside the tree. She was sitting there contentedly, watching the scene in front of her, the rest of the world.

Soon enough, she rested her gaze on Harry. She tilted her head at the man looking at her so curiously. Harry finally realized that she was staring straight back at him. Not wanting to appear completely rude, he walked up to her. She continued to look at him, puzzled. Why did he look so familiar?

“I’m sorry,” Harry began, “Do I know you? Have we met?” She laughed and it was like a melody that echoed in Harry’s mind. “I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

“Huh,” Harry said, perplexed at her response. He motioned to the open part of the bench next to her, she said, “Please,” and he sat.

“What brings you to the library today?” Harry asked after taking a sip of his coffee. She sat there and thought for a moment before laughing again, breathlessly this time, “I don’t know. I just felt like this would be a good spot to sit today.”

She looked over at the man next to her and smiled. “And you?” Harry looked at her smile and felt warm inside, feeling the need to smile back. “I came from the city, wanted to clear my mind. So much has been going through it lately.”

“I know how that can be,” she said seriously and looked up at the expansive sky above them, only obscured by a few clouds and the branches above them. Harry followed her gaze and sighed at the sight above him.

“I like it here,” he said delicately, “It’s…”

“Nice?” She offered.

“Yeah, it’s very nice,” Harry concluded.

It was nice to sit with someone who felt the same way as you. She was nice. Her presence, her words, her face.

Even if he couldn’t place where he had seen her face before, he was happy he got to see it.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #my writing #dreams #she #based off she #harry styles she #love love love the concept #request #harry styles request #sorry if its short

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k0kichiimagines · 4 years ago

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May I please have a fluff alphabet with Yasuhiro? :)

yes!! he's very underrated tbh 🥺

fluff alphabet: Yasuhiro Hagakura X reader

[template by wonderwxlls]

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

your cheeks! he loves doing that thing where you like squish em?? dunno the right terming?? anyways

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

he'd be a bit nervous but he does! he has big goofy dad energy tbh, so if you want some hes so down

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

he likes holding you in his arms, protects you and it helps him relax knowing youre safe 🥺

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

he tries to be all like cliche, suit dinner etc but... its not him, and after an honest conversation be prepared for the most random things with little preparation. like he'll come round and pull a 'date time we're going to the skate part and getting drinks' (where he proceeds to try and fail to skate and show off his skills to you) ! if you find the randomness stressful he'll try remember to text you beforehand!

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

"You are my whole world!" [while picking you up and spinning you, idc if youre above 6ft and taller than him he can and will]

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

DENIAL DENIAL, he probably thinks its weird he 'just so happens' to feel nervous and giddy around you,, but he'll work it out at some point at 3 am, and then prepare for his attempts at flirting. spoiler theyre not the best, but he tried !

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

he is! he can be a bit clumsy at times though and if he ever accidentally drops something on you or something he'll be very apologetic, but he tries to be as soft as possible

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

LOVES IT, he will hold your hand and swing it slightly as you guys hang out together, when you guys are cuddling, driving, doesnt matter hes trying to hold your hands

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

again this pretty much depends on your personality but he'd definitely think you were very interesting (and very pretty)

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

yes he does, and he will pout at you until you kiss him

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

hmmm, im going with you say it first, simply so that you get the reaction of his whole face burning before this almost high smile covers his face

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

if its him: i feel like he'd say it without really thinking and then freeze to look at you internally panicking, once you rush to him and tell him you love him too he'll be very relieved tbh! and then he'll say it a thousand times a day just to make sure you know

if its you: 100% takes him by suprise, but he smiles really big even though his cheeks are pink and hes a bit sheepish but! he'll say it back fondly and tell you he's been waiting to say it for forever

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

seeing you happy, anything with you laughing or smiling brightly melts his heart and he takes mental screenshots of the moments

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

oh boy this man cant handle money pls help him, he will buy you EVERYTHING and almost get into more trouble with underground gangs,, but you cant stop him its how he shows he loves you 🥺

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

that one colour on something small you wore that one time he holds fondly

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

"babe, sweetie, darling,[something in a reference to some inside joke that makes no sense outside of it]"

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

yknow like oldern machinery? i feel like he'd really find it interesting tbh, no clue how it works but he thinks its pretty cool!

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

he will complain its raining the whole time, mope around and not do anything and the second it stops you find him suddenly invested in something and refusing to leave the house

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

he tries to be very optimistic and chill about things, 'whatever will be will be' ! when he gets upset he usually just needs a reassurance its okay and youre there and he'll bounce back again

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

he likes talking about various interests he has! i see him as someone who has like random things he has tons of info on for some reason and talks about it for hours

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

he likes spending time with you,, hes not too into reading but if you want to read to him he'd like that, or just playing a board game (he gets pretty competitive though be warned)

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

his 'fourtune telling', the fact hes right 30% of the time, if he invents something that worked well!

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

hmm i feel like he doesnt really mind, he'll probably talk to you about it and whenever you start expressing an interest he'll propose! since he knows you'll say yes he'll go all out for it too~

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

the moss: cosmo sheldrake

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

if you want to! he likes the idea but if you dont want to he isnt too bothered

equally if you do he will cry when he sees you at your wedding

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

think of the most obscure pet, he wants it. and a snake!

#yasuhiro x reader #danganronpa x reader #yasuhiro #danganronpa #danganronpa imagines

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innittowinit · 4 years ago

Text

SBI headcanons awooga

Some headcanons and things for my sbi fd! Abandoned amusement park fic lol

Here's the link if you haven't read it btw

SBI last name is Reid, DT last name is Jackson btw lmao, i probably won't mention it much though unless it's like Mrs Reid for the sbi mom y'know

This has Tommy, Techno, Wilbur and Phil included; lmk if a dt post would be a good idea too

Tommy

The youngest brother, he’s seven lmao what a child

Even though he’s the youngest, he’s also the most confrontational and will gladly ‘fight’ anyone who talks bad about his brothers

He can’t fight

He’s very tall for his age but is also extremely light since he’s always running around

Phil tries to get him to try new foods a lot but Tommy’s a really picky eater

...Tantrums.. Every time he doesn’t get his way

This lead to his brothers spoiling him quite a bit, he’s still sweet enough though since Phil has had many stern conversations with him about being nice to people

Has a toy music boy, with collectable discs

Wilbur got his first disc for him, it’s his most prised possession

Every time he does all of his chores (which are really just small things like clean up after himself and keep his room tidy) someone, whether its his Mum, Wilbur or someone else, gets him a new disc

Techno got him ‘Pig step’ for his seventh birthday and he listens to it every night before bed

One time he snuck downstairs while Techno and Wilbur were having a sleepover and watched the horror movie they were watching without them realising it. Techno and Wil were the ones to get into trouble since Tommy wouldn’t sleep for a week afterwards.

Techno had to read him a story every night until he stopped thinking he was going to be eaten by a demon in the middle of the night

Drinks way too much caffeine for a kid, someone take this boys coke away

He’s got a habit of biting his nails, which has left him with some pretty crooked teeth, which will probably need to be fixed with braces when he’s older.

It’s also gross because he climbs so much there’s almost always dirt under his nails

Hasn’t really grasped the whole concept of not saying everything he thinks yet

Oh my god someone shut this boy up

He still believes in Santa and The easter bunny too

One time Techno told him Oogie Boogie from the nightmare before christmas was real and he cried

He talks a lot in school because he finds it boring but he’s also very good at maths and English for his age

Wilbur

Middle child, Wil is 13. Techno’s twin

He’s pretty insecure about his music even though he’s been playing his whole life

That’s why he likes being able to practice in L’manburg, there’s no pressure to be perfect when he’s alone with his brothers

Super extroverted and confident in everything else though, Since Techno can’t talk to most people, he usually tries to speak for both of them

After realising that Techno didn’t really like it when he said ‘Techno thinks’ a lot, back in primary school, he adapted to trying to speak for what Techno wants without making Techno’s issues obvious

They tell people who need to know, but for people they’ll only talk to a few times they usually just get away with Wilbur acting super obnoxious and loud so it seems like Techno just doesn’t have room to talk, rather than that he can't

It’s easier than getting into it since they don’t feel like most people will understand

has separation Anxiety, when he’s not with his brother he doesn’t relax/ feel safe at all. If it happens at school he won't do his work at all/ Will probably just leave the room and try to find Techno

Everyone kinda knows this and they try to suit things around it without saying it outright

He’s kinda embarrassed, he likes to think he’s the one protecting Techno but really they need each other the same amount

Techno gets this though, He doesn’t mind if wilbur has a bit of a saviour complex, he’ll play along if it makes him happy

They’re working on it with their Therapist though so don’t worry, he won't grow up to be an ass

Interests (besides music) include:

Watching obscure documentaries

Disney movies, favourite is peter pan

Skating

He and Techno got Picked on in primary school for being so close, he learnt kickboxing so he could defend himself if things ever got physical. Luckily they didn’t but he still knows how to kickbox so watch out

Almost always turning in homework late, he’s good at talking his way out of Detentions though.

And when he cant talk his way out, Techno finds a way to get detention too

He’s VERY protective of his younger brother(s(he was born first so he likes to insist that Techno is his little brother))

That’s good for the most part but he can be a little overbearing sometimes, he’s got detention many many times for cussing out people who so much as looked at Techno wrong

When he’s feeling guilty he mumbles a lot

Techno

Middle child, 13. Wilbur’s twin

Has selective Mutism, completely fine talking to Wilbur, Only talks to Tommy and Phil if Wil is there too but other than that he’s completely fine talking to them as well. He speaks to his parents but not as openly as he does with his brothers, with them its usually very quiet, one word sentences

Like Wilbur, separation Anxiety also, It’s not as bad as Wilbur’s is though, Wil just makes him comfortable enough to talk with his brothers, he can deal with being without Wilbur but he absolutely doesn’t want to

He can be a bit arrogant and possessive of his brothers at times, he’s a bit scared of them leaving him because he can be so difficult so he has a tendency to be cold to any new people they bring home

Interests include: Pvp games, ancient china, farming

He was hyper-fixated on a cartoon when he was younger and now he has multiple cosplays from it that he’ll probably never wear again

His hair is LONG and pink, they never figured out why it grew so fast or why it was pink but it is lmao

When he was born his parents were terrified, they thought he had some kind of rare condition that was going to hurt him but the doctors eventually came to the conclusion that he just had healthy hair that grew fast and the pinkness was due to an abnormality in the melanin in his system or something idk fellas im failing science pls pretend this part makes sense

Being silent with long pink hair as a kid, he got picked on a lot. There were many instances where he just pushed kids over or hit them because they were being mean

Since he’s the quiet one, teachers usually trust him a lot so he and wilbur used to skip class a lot, back when they got picked on, by saying they had to help another teacher do something

In an attempt to get him to be more social, his parents signed him up for violin lessons aged 8, he really liked his teacher and had even managed to speak a little to her over the past 4 years he took lessons

Spaces out a lot

He watches a lot of conspiracy theory videos but he doesn’t actually believe any of them, he just finds them interesting

One time he convinced Tommy they were living in a simulation and Tommy hit a kid to see if his hand would pass through

He’s spoken a few words to squidkid too since they’re childhood friends and he’s very comfortable with him. Ironically all he seems to say to him is ‘bozo’ to tease the other for saying it so often, instead of literally any other insult

Phil

Oldest brother, 16

Cares about his brothers so so so so so much like he will do anything to keep them happy and safe

One time he missed an exam because Tommy was sick and he wanted to take him to the doctor before anything else

Tommy was fine btw, just one of those bugs you get when you're little

Their parents are pretty distant so Phil has been pretty much raising them since he was little, he doesn’t mind though

Their parents aren’t bad people or anything, they just get called out a lot for work and can’t be at home a whole bunch, it’s a big part of the reason why Techno never got comfortable talking a lot around them

He works at a Nearby florist to get extra cash to buy his brothers things when his parents arent home

When their mum is home, he brings her flower arrangements home from work because he is sweet <3

He’s really into mythology and Folklore as well as drawing, when he was younger he had multiple sketchbooks filled up with different creatures that he had drawn

When he, techno and wilbur were all little, he used to play a game with them where they’d describe a monster off the tops of their heads and he’d draw it for them

Techno and Wilbur loved this and always put up Phil’s drawings on their bedroom walls

When he was 13 he used to write angsty poetry, He told wilbur about it one day and that's when wilbur first started adding lyrics to his songs

He can be pretty gullible, he likes to believe that people mean good no matter how hard it might be to see it that way

He can hold grudges for a pretty long time, he’s quick to forgive when it’s himself that’s been hurt but it’s very very hard to get on his good side again if you hurt his brothers

Watches Alien theories with techno, unlike techno he actually believes in them

Has the ‘i believe in aliens’ poster

When they were little, he used to grow strawberry plants with techno and Wilbur, this is what prompted techno to start growing other vegetables in their garden himself

#sleepyblr #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfic #mcyt #mineblr

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helisol · 4 years ago

Note

Wait so.. link to this quodo fic you mentioned in your tags?? I’m intrigued :DD

its only an idea but i will HAPPILY ramble about it in detail under this read more because i never finish writing fics but i do love sharing my notes.

they get Pretty Extensive considering this clocked in at 2k words. so strap in.

tl;dr: karaoke night gone wild leads to garashir and quodo setting each other up for holodeck shenanigans

so basically quark has acquired a karaoke program. everyone on ds9 is going mad about it and it's keeping the holosuites booked out for weeks

the main squad decides to try it out and they just jam to a mix of human, klingon and bajoran music. but lets be real it's mostly human music because i have a mighty need to see captain benjamin sisko tear up the dancefloor to Earth Wind & Fire’s September. so sue me.

anyway everyone has to sing, even odo, even garak and they all have a blast. the only person who is notably absent is Quark because Quark has a bar to run and Quark can't indulge in mindless fun activities when he has money to make.

Unless… Odo challenges him and he has to prove that Odo is wrong.

so yeah quark checks on the gang to see how they like this “Hooman Kara-oke” and if he can sell them some drinks and everyone is like “hey you should sing. just one song. we won't even laugh about your bad ferengi singing! we promise!"

and quark is about to say "ferengi voices arent that bad. im still not gonna sing tho."

but odo is ahead of the game and insults his grating voice and how it could only be worse in song. and because this is quark he’s like “actually fuck you. now I WILL sing.”

so he snatches the mic from whoever was about to go next and fucking Crushes It.

while odo starts Looking Respectfully everyone else is just going "woooooo! go quark!" which makes quark just get even more into it

Takes His Jacket Off, Drops It On The Floor, Dances With The Microphone Stand. The Works. and he's also enjoying himself like "haha! suck it odo! i'm a good performer, it's how I make money!"

until he actually looks at Odo and Odo is Looking Back and then he’s like “wait what the fuck why is he looking at me” and Promptly Messes Up A Step And Falls Off The Stage-

so now quark has a twisted ankle and julian has to take him to the infirmary, which bums out quite literally Everyone and the gathering disperses, leaving only Garak and Odo.

garak as we know is but a simple tailor, but he’s Observant and his little lizard eyes did spy odo looking at quark and making the soup-version of heart eyes. we also know he is the gayest bicth on this station so of course he’s going to poke and prod at odo to see how he reacts.

garak waits until everyone is out of the room and asks odo if he can walk the dear constable home to the ol’ bucket. because odo looked a little melty during quark’s performance, y’know. it’d be bad if he turned into soup on the promenade.

odo denies this, of course, so garak is like “oh great then we can have a Chat :)”

and odo goes "wait no i hate talking” but then they’re in garaks shop and drinking kanar and garak is getting drunk off his lizard ass and talking about Julian because, again, he IS THAT BITCH!

meanwhile in the infirmary, Julian is trying to take care of quark’s ankle, but since he’s nosy and kinda Knows that quark wouldn’t just mess up his steps for no reason he asks about that.

and quark loudly goes “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS JUST FIX MY DAMN ANKLE-”

which of course turns the nosyness up to 11 and has julian going 👀

"no i mean uh- i was distracted" "distracted? by what?" "nothing" "distracted by nothing?" "FIX. MY. ANKLE."

so julian sits him down on a biobed and gets whatever medical thingie fixes ankles in the 24th century. and while he does that he offers quark some wine to loosen the tongue about what made him slip.

anyway one thing leads to another and before you know it quark and julian are wine-drunk sitting on the infirmary floor and talking about garak. which suits quark just fine because it means he doesn’t have to admit he fell because odo was looking at him like he just revealed all the secrets of the universe along with his bare arms when he took off his jacket.

so we have two sets of gay idiots getting drunk in two locations and the next morning two sets of gay idiots have hangovers. yes odo gets a hangover. being soup does not exempt him from it.

julian and odo do the right, logical thing and take some meds to go to work and be productive and garak shows up in the bar to fight fire with fire and finds quark Already Doing That.

so they just sit next to each other, beating their hangovers with more alcohol, and they get to talking.

garak goes on about how he took odo home and pretty much only talked about julian all night and quark is like “wow what a coincidence, the doctor and i only talked about you all night.”

and it's all downhill from there because basically quark and garak just figured out that the garashir pining is Mutual.

"wait, julian was looking at me???" "yes." "AND I WAS LOOKING AT JULIAN-" "Yes."

and then they hash out this elaborate scheme to trap julian and garak in one of the Spy holosuite programs until they make out. this is garak and quark planning. how could they NOT make an elaborate scheme involving holosuites.

anyway i promised quodo so i will keep the ‘garashir makes out in the holosuite’ section a lil more brief

so within the next two days these two gay bitches whip up a new “The Adventures Of Agent Bashir” program, but quark has ‘adjusted’ the program a little so that it only ends when the main characters kiss. fun stuff.

garak and julian go through the program, havin a blast being spies, but at the end garak’s character gets “shot”, and they are so immersed in the story that julian is Actually Concerned and garak Actually Acts like he's in pain.

they kiss, the program ends, and garak- not actually shot- goes “haha gotcha, you wanted to kiss me before i died”

so they walk out the holosuite one hour after their time is already up with a lot of hickeys and untied bowties. hooray.

But That’s Not What We’re Here For.

after garak and julian come down from the high of getting together julian asks Just How and Why quark would agree to help with this. quark Never helps Unless he’s helping himself.

and they realised Quark Has Played Them Like Cheap Kazoos. he just wanted to take attention away from himself and the unanswered question of why he suddenly fell off the stage.

so they go "wait, if odo and quark were both lying and obscuring facts and being weird about this, doesn't that mean- ohhh"

and it boils down to them deciding to help those poor fuckers because they are apparently off even worse than they were in terms of mutual pining.

they also hash out an elaborate scheme. this time it involves odo’s never ending hard on for finding reasons to throw quark into jail.

since quark technically violated the holosuite rules by locking garak and julian in there garak goes over to odo to report the “Crime”

after some back and forth about Why In The World Garak, Friend And Tailor, would report a crime to odo that doesn’t affect anyone’s safety Odo heads to the bar to investigate the holosuites and if there really was criminal activity.

he doesn’t ask quark for permission, mostly because he’d never ask permission to snoop around in quark’s property but also because quark is actually not there at the moment. for Some Reason he’s being held up in the infirmary. Weird.

so odo is looking through the holosuite recordings of the last few days, and he runs through what garak said was the illegal activity of locking them in there and just goes "Ah, alright, i can throw him in a holding cell for that.” but then he sees a message left by garak.

it was apparently left there today so garak must have prepared this which means something is afoot. and the message just reads "the karaoke session was recorded and you might wanna check what Actually™ made quark trip :)"

to which odo reacts with "hmph. why should i care. maybe hes just messing with me and quark tripped over a cable." but Odo looks at it anyway. respectfully.

and he watches the whole performance up until the point where quark falls. Multiple Times. until he remembers that this is a criminal investigation and he finally looks at the part where he falls from quark’s perspective, which is the important one.

and he just. looks right at himself. looking at quark.

and holy shit. he looked at him like he was going to shove him against a wall, not to beat him up, but to make out with him. he straight up looked like he was going to mess him up but not with his fists.

so he stands right in front of quark and replays that moment to see quark’s reaction and analyse how he fell. and sure enough quark Saw Him and his knees gave out.

after that he really just wants to walk out and spend the next 30 hours as a houseplant to cleanse his mind of any quark-related thoughts but uh oh. when he opens the holosuite door Quark Is Right There.

and odo panics and just pulls him inside, accidentally re-initiating the spy program.

“But how did Quark happen to be there at just the right time?” i hear you ask well it was OUR MAN BASHIR

while garak was at odos place telling him to investigate quark’s wrongdoings, quark himself got called to the infirmary for a check-up on his twisted ankle.

and julian kept him there, examining his ankle over and over, until garak came in to Insinuate that Someone is snooping around in the holosuites.

so quark, yelling "NO COPS IN MY BAR", hurries over to the holosuites on his totally fine ankle and bada bing bada boom, here we are.

with two idiots stuck in a locked holosuite.

odo is like "QUARK WTF" meanwhile quark is like "ODO WTF"

"YOU LOCKED US IN A HOLOSUITE" "NO YOU LOCKED US IN A HOLOSUITE" ”well it was you who pulled me in here" "but it was you who designed it like this"

anyway to get out they have to go through the program somehow. quark and garak programmed this very carefully. unless they follow the general story, there’s no way out.

and at first quark says "listen, its okay, we just have to kiss" to which odo replies with that kinda look you’d get from someone if you told them to swallow a cactus whole, for fun.

"you heard me" "quark if this is a joke-" "its not. i made rom pull an all nighter to put in the new sensors." "you paid him for this???" "no." "right of course."

and after a very quick cheek kiss doesn’t end up doing the trick the two actually go through the program properly. except quark knows the script, cheats a little, takes shortcuts and totally doesnt impress odo by shooting a few hologram guards on the way.

so they get to the end, where they believe odo is supposed to get “shot”, but turns out they mixed up the roles and quark is the one who gets shot.

And Odo Doesn’t Know. The Safeties. Are. On.

so he tearfully goes "WAIT NO- QUARK!" and quark is like "odo...odo come closer..."

"yes, quark?"

"kiss me"

"quark please dont die i'll kiss you and we'll beam you straight to the infirmary and-" "ODO JUST KISS ME"

and then they kiss. the holosuite controls unlock and quark thinks ‘oh great, now we can leave-’ but odo doesnt stop kissing him

and he doesn’t Stop kissing him until quark actually speaks up and has to go "HEY IF THIS WERE REAL I’D BE DYING BY NOW-"

"what?" "the safeties are on. I didn’t get shot. you just had to kiss me to unlock the controls-"

and odo is like "QUARK"

and quark is like "ODO"

and then odo gets up and is very convinced that he Must Turn Into A Houseplant For A Ferengi Lifespan To Atone For His Sins.

but quark says “no, wait. can you do it again?”

"yelling at you?" "kissing me."

anyway odo finally gets to fulfill his fantasy of pushing quark against a wall and quark finally gets kissed by odo like hes dreamed of for like 15 years or however long ago it was that they were first on terok nor together during the cardassian occupation.

the end.

#quodo #ds9 #deep space nine #look if anyone reads this whole thing. please talk to me about it. this is my pepe silvia.#ALSO IF SOMEONE WANTS TO *WRITE THIS*#GO AHEAD

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fbfh · 5 years ago

Text

Light Up the Dark - [IV] Leo x reader

genre: romance + action + enemies to lovers kinda

word count: 2k

au: none

pairing: Leo x gothy!child of eros!fem reader

requested: nah

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR HEROES OF OLYMPUS!!, normal reader being mean lol, mentions of abandonment issues, a breakup over skype call basically, reader uses seduction powers for fun and profit, i think that’s it

summary: You pull some strings to get a hotel room and some cash, the boys get to know you a little better, and you overhear something you probably shouldn’t have.

listen to: bad liar - imagine dragons

a/n: since the reader is a daughter of Eros, the characters are aged to 18+ idk i think i forgot to put that on the other chapters lol

also requests r open uwu

“What do you mean she’s not coming?” Leo asks, all the bad feelings quickly overtaking him.

“She said she wanted to sight see more, and that she’d meet us back at camp in a few days,” Jason says, trying to break the news as gently as possible, “I’m sorry, Leo.”

He bit back his heartache.

“Yeah, it’s…”

The door creaks and their heads turn to you, exiting the front door.

“Who’s driving?” you ask.

“Jason,” Leo replies. You open the passenger side door, gently place the coffin shaped box on the seat, and buckle it in. You can feel their inquisitive eyes on you, and you counter with a blank, resolute look of your own.

“This one’s special.”

You notice Leo seems… off. His whole mood seems to have plummeted. Leo reminds you of a buoy. Even in the worst storms, even if he gets caught under a huge wave, he always comes back to the surface. Based on his current vibe, someone nuked the buoy. Wheels turn in your head, and you hand him the trout mailbox.

“Could you put this in the back?” you direct your words at him, hoping the heat flushing to his cheeks would distract him from whatever made him upset. His hand brushes yours and you can almost feel his heart spasm. You make eye contact at him through your thick, dark eyelashes and he almost chokes. He agrees and you pull Jason aside.

“What happened?” you hiss.

“What?” he whispers back.

“What did you tell him to make him all lame?”

“Oh, uh…” he rubs the back of his neck and you shake your head, waiting for an answer, “Calypso’s… not coming back with us.” You wait in silence for him to keep talking.

“She said she wanted to see the world more, and she’d meet us back at camp in a few days.” You process this for a second.

“So he’s-” you catch movement out of the corner of your eye, “driving?” you ask Leo, who just came back from the trunk.

“Jason, I mean.” you clarify. He confirms, and you all get in the car - Jason up front, you and Leo in the back. You reach into your bag and hand Jason a cd that says ’fun sad angry music :)’. He stares at you through the rear view mirror. You stare back. You sip your coffee.

“Well?” you ask, “Are you going to put it in the player or eat it?” His eyes dart to Leo’s. “She gets to choose the music,” he explains. Jason mutters in agreement and fumbles the disk into the slot. A smile spreads on your face as the music plays and he starts to drive.

Leo watches you as you nod your head and mouth the lyrics. He can tell you love this song. You vibe to the music for a minute before glancing over at Leo. He realizes he’s been staring when you give him an expectant look.

“What.” you ask.

“Uh, this song is really good,” interest tints your face, and he’s relieved he recovered okay, “what’s it called?” You’re a little surprised he likes it.

“Mr. Doctor Man by Palaye Royale.” You two enjoy the music in silence, Jason focused on the road and GPS directions. A minute later, your curiosity starts to get the better of you. “How far is it?”

“Not far, a couple hours.” Leo replies.

“Is everyone there all… campfire songs and friendship bracelets? Cause I’ve never been like, a summer camp person,” your eyes flick to the side towards him for a moment, and he can tell you’re listening closely. He smiles a little.

“So what kind of person are you?”

“I’m more of a… cult documentaries and obscure unsettling 1960’s Czech animations type.” He’d never heard the words “1960’s Czech animations” sound so hot.

“What about you?”

He paused for a minute. Part of him was deciding how to respond, and the other part was just flattered giggling that she had asked him back. You talk for the next hour or two, Jason chiming in periodically, until he points out that it’s getting dark and you should find somewhere to stay for the night.

“Okay,” you reply, “pull over at the next truck stop.”

They’re a little confused, but Jason complies and pulls over at the next gas station/convenience store you come across. They watch you get out of the car without a word and walk into the store. You approach a guy near a soda display. He has on a fedora and a shirt with a kids video game logo on it. He stares at you absolutely transfixed. They can’t hear what you’re saying, but he has a dopey grin on his face and nods his head a lot. Your hand touches his arm gently, and he laughs so loudly (and nervously) they hear it from the car.

“Do I look that dumb around her?” Leo asks.

You tilt your head and he blushes and nods again. He hands you something and a second later, you two walk to the counter. The cashier looks up startled, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She stares at you for a second, then says something and fumbles with a cellphone you hand her. She hands you a paper a few seconds later. You give the guy his phone back. He walks to an ATM at the corner of the store. He walks over to you, but you’re in front of a display so they can’t see anything until you come back out. You get back in the car and hand Jason a piece of paper and a wad of cash.

“Got us a room at a Best Western like, ten minutes away. And some cash.”

They stare at you in silence. You lean toward Jason.

“The room is under your name, Kevin Grossman.” Leo bites back a laugh.

You finally get to the hotel, and Jason flips on his turn signal to get into the parking lot. “Park at the Walmart over there,” you point a block or two up, “under a light.” He turns his blinker off.

“Walmart doesn’t care if you park overnight. If someone sees our car at the parking lot of a hotel, we’re just leaving a target on our backs.” you explain. They don’t say anything.

“You said monsters are after us, right?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, “good thinking.” Jason agreed and you exit the car, remembering to grab the duffle bag with your clothes and other essentials. You all walk across the street to the hotel. You talk your way through checking in pretty easily. When the hostess asks to see your in app registry you hand her the printed ticket. “His phone died.” you say simply. The three of you are about to head up to your room, when you turn back to reception. You hesitate for a second, before leaning in to the receptionist.

“Can you put us as unlisted?” you ask quietly.

“Of course,” she replies sincerely, “let me know if you need anything.”

On the way up to your room, you tell Jason and Leo that if anyone asks, you’re not here. They seem impressed. Your room has a small seating area with a couch, coffee table, coat rack, and a phone. Past the half wall are three beds, a desk, a TV, and a doorway you figure leads to the bathroom. You walk into the bathroom and touch the mirror. You notice the space between your finger and reflection, and move on. You call to Leo to turn off the lights. He and Jason share a look. You may be a little weird, and incredibly intimidating, but you haven’t steered them wrong yet. Leo hits the lights, and you said quietly, “Listen for any weird buzzing or beeping noises, and look out for any out of place lights,” you creep around the room very quietly. After a minute you turn the lights back on and look at the ceiling.

“What was that about?” Jason asks.

“Bugs,” you reply, not looking at him, “and not the fun kind,” you mutter.

“Jason, can you reach that?” you point up at the smoke detector. He looked between you and the device on the ceiling.

“Don’t think so.” You looked between him and Leo. Your head might hit the ceiling if you Jason gave you a boost, but you could probably access it fine with Leo’s help.

“Leo,” you said, and he looked up from the wires he was fiddling with, “give me boost,” your gaze not leaving the smoke detector. He agrees, and you get up onto his shoulders. His hands rest just above your knees, and it takes all his focus to not burst into flames. You pop off the cover.

“This doesn’t look weird, right?” you ask him. He looks up and back at your face, hair angled down, and is reminded of the Spiderman kiss. He pushes away the thought and examines the smoke detector.

“About as non-weird as a smoke detector can look,” he confirms, and helps you down. He’s incredibly impressed that you thought to look for bugs - even he hadn’t thought of that, and he’s a son of Hephaestus.

“Where did you learn this stuff? The parking lot, being unlisted, checking for bugs?” You half exhale half scoff.

“When almost everyone in a five mile radius constantly wants to get in your pants, they can get… pushy… so you learn some stuff.” You grab your pajamas from your bag and head toward the bathroom. Leo and Jason meet eyes. It made more sense now, why you were always so intimidating. If he got constant unwanted attention, Leo would get pretty prickly, too.

Once everyone had showered and gotten ready for bed, Jason pointed out someone should IM Chiron, but you were way too tired, and collectively agreed to update him in the morning.

Right as he’s about to fall asleep, Leo feels like someone’s watching him. He opens his eyes, and sees Calypso’s face. His heart lurches. He pushes himself out of bed and sees the shimmery edges of the iris message. She opens her mouth and he holds a finger to his lips. He moves over to the couch, so he doesn’t wake the others. He sits down nervously.

“Hey, sunshine… I really miss you, what’s-”

“Look, Leo, I… I can’t do this.”

His stomach drops.

He knows what’s happening. He had it coming, he knew that. He knew that this was probably inevitable. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He tries to sputter out something, anything. Why, what, can he do anything to fix this, but he’s too choked up.

“I need a break from this, from us…” she continues, “there’s so much of the world I haven’t seen yet, and you have your projects… I don’t want to hold myself back because I feel bad that you’re not with me. I want to experience everything.” He feels like he’s falling forward. His eyebrows knit and an unstoppable rush of memories of everyone who’s left him or kicked him out comes flooding back.

“Calypso,” his voice cracks. He can’t finish the sentence.

You wake up from the light sleep you had settled into, aware of an unfamiliar voice. You get up, throwing on the short black robe over your pajamas - despite their velvet material, the loose cami and shorts don’t provide much warmth. You tiptoe over to the seating area. Leo’s on the couch, staring at the floor. You walk up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice foggy with sleep.

“Who-” you briefly see the unfamiliar voice is coming from a shimmery image of a pissed off girl floating in front of him, but he quickly swipes his hand through, and the image vanishes. He rubs his eyes and his hands come away damp. You stay quiet. You don’t want to make him feel worse.

“Long day,” he mutters. He stands up and says goodnight without looking at you. You watch him get into bed, and you do the same. Even if you knew what was wrong, there wasn’t much you could do this late at night. You hope some rest makes him feel better, and tell yourself it’ll be dealt with in the morning.

Maybe over coffee.

You could use some coffee.

#leo valdez x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #LV light up the dark

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years ago

Text

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue @jennyggggrrr @madeinheavxn @whatgoeson-itslate @brianssixpence @simonedk @herewegoagainniall @stardust-killer-queen

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!�� He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

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peppermintfables · 4 years ago

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A “proper” pirate

Ok so for a proper analysis Id need to do a rewatch and actually watch out for that line and Im not gonna do that right now so feel free to chime in if I get something wrong. But I cant stop thinking about the ‘proper pirate’ theme and the way parts of the fandoms handle it? Like its something to strive towards? And I’m very confused.

To me this line has two main goals within the show. Firstly to show the hypocrisy of Charles Vane’s thought on freedom. Because he’s someone that absolutely doesn’t want to conform to societies expactations. And yet he is also the one enforcing and presenting the idea of what a pirate should be. His arc more than anyone else’s shows us that even a powerful pirate captain can’t just do what he wants but has responsibility before crew and quartermaster. This becomes especially clear in season 2 in which he constantly struggles to come up with reasons for his crew to go along with his plans and in the end they still try to leave while he’s in Charlestown.

The second reason’s as lead up to Jack’s ‘A different sort of pirate’ line. Now you might say ‘Ian. Aren’t you a little bit obsessed with that line?’. And you would be correct. But am I wrong tho? The entire series we have the theme of the ‘proper pirate’ coming up again and again including when Anne says to Jack that he’s the only one who made a career out of wanting to be called a proper pirate by Vane. And now right at the end we have Jack going ‘You know what? Thats not how we’re gonna get anywhere. That’s not where my strengths lie’ and completely reject that idea. That’s the only conclusion we have to this theme!

Now there’s two ways to read this. One is that being a proper pirate should be something to honor and that Jack betrayed not only Vane’s memory and the war but piracy as a whole. The question ‘what is a pirate’ is something that weaves itself through the entirety of Black Sails, from this to Eleanor’s trial to Rogers’ Redcoats costumes becoming more and more pirate like after they cut of ties to England. Whether or not a pirate needs to go against everything England stands for and thanks to Jacks deal he betrayed piracy and that’s why he’s not a proper pirate anymore is something to consider. But I think ending the whole series with the image of Jacks pirate flag kind of speaks against that.

The second one, and the one I like a lot more maybe just because I have a lot of feelings about Jack’s arc, is the ‘proper pirate’ as a metaphor for toxic masculinity and/or gatekeeping in counter cultures. I always read Jack’s ‘different sort of pirate’ as an embrace that his best quality is being able to listen to women and to know what it’s like to be underestimated and using that to your advantage. A ‘proper pirate’ is often portrayed as always in control, strong and never someone who needs to depend on others. You know, the bullshit we think men should be. And so going ‘Nah, actually fuck that’ is a good thing. Throughout Black Sails shit always starts failing as soon as men stop listening to the women, for example when Roger’s goes against Eleanor’s deal, when Jack goes against Max’s advice, when Flint doesn’t listen to Miranda in London. And Jack’s the first one to realize that, because he’s willing to follow Max’ Plan and in the end he’s the one who succeeds.

As for the ‘gatekeeping in counter cultures’ part it’s mostly based on the hypocrisy that I already talked about in the beginning and I just tought it’s interesting that it’s something still easy to see today. Of course definitions matter and as already said asking what constitutes a pirate is interesting but it also very much ‘if you cant list every song by this obscure band youre not a real punk’ vibes. Where the lines are drawn is something worth looking at.

But all in all Id still say peoples tendency to frame being a ‘proper pirate’ as something to strive towards is...maybe not a good thing? Like I dont get it?

#I wrote this in one go and without checking if its coherent in any way #and Im not checking now #sometimes the analysis demon overcomes you and you just have to scream it into the void #black sails #charles vane #meta #jack rackham #wolf rambles

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chimtaera · 5 years ago

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imagine model namjoon.

ok let’s not kid ourselves

boy’s already a model

he’s got the body.

got the looks.

what can i say, he’s no super model (too clumsy), but he get’s around with the more diverse castings yanno

probably got started on instagram,

with his #kimdaily outfits

which are sometimes just chill, pretty, sporty, casual, cool

and other times completely wacky and just ??? how did you even think to wear those ??? at the same time?? together ???

he always looks good tho

but some looks will give you whiplash. ur warned.

but that’s part of his appeal tbh

hhhh probably gains a lot of popularity when one of those more ‘out there’ outfits circulates on twitter or reddit and people are like “hOW does he make that work??? why does it look good??? is he just that hot??”

the answer is yes.

from there he builds a solid following.

for his great looks, great fashion sense, and his 4am instagram stories that are just a black pic with like a three paragraph text about how rain might feel if it had feelings.

also, solid music recommendations omg

you probably make ur own spotify playlist with just his recommendations.

ok ok so you best bELIEVE when this boy finally gets cast for a show he’s gonna fall on his ass and go viral

claim to fame baby

probably becomes a meme and rolls with it tbh

like he’ll share the memes in his story, so as not to ruin the ・ﾟ:*aesthetic*:・ﾟand react to them and shit

but then also get on live and talk at length about how faceplanting on the catwalk impacts your self-esteem, how he’s habit he could benefit positively from such an embarrassing moment, and how there’s a lesson for everyone here, and that he hopes all our embarrassing moments may in some way benefit us one day.

he’s such a sweetheart im-

so you might be a stylist?

a hair stylist?

makeup artist?

fellow model?

whatever you’re comfortable with.

you definitely see him on instagram first tho

you came for the memes but are super impressed with his profile and end up staying for the music.

...... and him.

he’s hot, come on.

also 90% of networking is done on instagram these days let us be real.

okay so oNE DAY, or like late evening, who cares

he post a music recommendation and you’re like !!!!!!!!

it’s that low key indie band with like only one EP out that you found on some obscure spotify playlist and you’ve been jamming to since october

and apparently namjoon has too because they’ve released a new single and you didn’t even know ????

and you’re so excited your fingers slip and oopsie you’ve sent a short but rambling message explaining exactly that into his DM’s

instant regret.

then the anxiety bubbles up in you.

and then you calm yourself and convince yourself that he gets a LOT of messages he probably won’t even see yours, so it’s fine it’s fine it’s-

next morning you have a reply

a new follow

and a mcfUCKING LIKE ON A PICTURE OF YOU FROM TWO WEEKS AGO

yikes, you didn’t even have time to give your feed a spring cleaning

you just like his short “ikr!!!!”, too mortified to reply.

alas, the regrets!

but also

the butterflies.

then you see him at an event one time.

it’s fashion week, you’re hecking busy and about to leave because it’s like midnight and you’ve got places to be tomorrow

but it’s always so strange to see people from insta irl like ??? all those dimensions??? you really be lookign like that ??? damn.

once you’ve stared long enough to be certain that’s actually what he looks like (so handome!!! so tall!!!! wtf!!!! who allowed this??) you turn to leave just as he glances up and cetches your eye for like the tiniest fraction of a second

and you hightail it outta there and hope to heaven he doesn’t know you were staring.

but he likes your pic from the party the next morning and you almost choke on your coffee and the lump in your throat stays there all day

and you’re like, am i?? catching feelings ??? for the catwalk faceplant guy??? you’ve never even talked to the man smh

he’s fucking hot tho.

so, fashion week ends and with it comes another party

you can finally relax, celebrate, wind down from the long week.

yA THOUGHT lmao

you’re talking to some designer about their next project and they’re going on about this instagram dude who’s already on board when they start waving someone over like “hey hey, there he is, y/n have you met kim namjoon yet?”

you turn around you’re like !!!!! fuck. he’s so much taller up close.

“hey, no, yeah, no, but i’ve seen you on, uh, on instagram. i think.” smooth, y/n.

after introductions, the designer gets pulled along into some other conversation and you and namjoon are kinda awkward for a minute.

you just sip your drink like ‘fuck fuck fuckfuck fuck aaaaaaa’

but then he asks you easy questions about what you do and what you’ve been working on this week and it’s the same thing you’ve been talking about with everyone you’ve met this week so it goes pretty smoothly

he makes it easy for you, like he’s very attentive, nods along enthusiastically asking follow-up questions and seems genuinely interested in your work it’s so nice! he’s so nice!

and you ask him the same things you’ve asked everyone else this week like you haven’t seen everything on his instagram already.

actually you’ve missed a few things since you’ve been so busy and your interest is genuine, before you know it the two of you are at a table and getting along like a house on fire, showing each other pics from the week.

he asks you send him a pic from one of the shows he didn’t get to see and when he do he’s sees your old messages and is like ?? oh !!

i mean, he totally knew it was you, but he had forgotten the part about that obscure indie band and the new single, so he shows you!

you’ve been following them even closer since then so you know they’re playing a gig in like two weeks and you tell him.

turns out he’s missed this info because of fashion week and he’s super excited!! you guys have to go together!!!¨

“i mean, we don’t have to- it’s just, i don’t know anyone else who listens to them, i could probably go alone, but, you know, it would be cool-”

and of course you’ll go with him, so you two exchange numbers and end up texting the next two weeks.

at first you’re just making tentative plans to meet and go to to the gig, but then there’s a gallery opening the same day, and you know this realy good thrift shop nearby that he should check out, and you guys should get dinner before because namjoon knows this really cool place and-

and it’s a date.

namjoon has every intention to kiss you that night after the gig, but he wants to ask you first and he’s not sure exactly how so he’s just like “um ??? can i ??? uhhh ?? do you ??? uh”

and ur like, “hey, namjoon, i really want u to kiss me, please?”

the rest is history.

you two are too cute, with your instagram aesthetic and lowkey couple outfits, and highkey couple pics, i’d follow.

you two would be gOALS, and it does wonders for both your careers tbh

omg imagine all the cool collaborations you two could do.

and eventually namjoon would go viral again when the paparazzi captures him spilling his coffee and your cute reaction.

but the best thing about dating model namjoon is he makes you your very own playlist.

and you get your very own story highlight with all the aesthetic pics he snaps of you just like buying milk and stealing his fries, and exploring the city on sundays afternoons, going vintage shopping and reading in the park, titled: “bae.” with every colour heart.

hyping each other in the comments always.

and the thirst omg

anyway, nsfw under the cut.

so you take it kinda slow at first because turns out namjoon has a huge crush on you and he lowkey can’t keep his hands off you but also wants to “date you properly”, whatever that means.

props to you if you get impatient with him and tease him a little, a thirst trap here, a netflix and chill there, sending a sexy song his way, or even better post it on your story for him to see.

if it doesn’t provoke him to action it’ll at least get him hard flustered, which is cute.

in the end joon is a soft boy and you can sit up all night talking, so you end up talking about sex long before having it.

and that just makes it all the more special tbh

and when it does happen, it’s like everything else the two of you do, a little awkward at first, a little clumsy, fumbly, but a lot of fun, and it’s namjoon, and you love namjoon. so, so much.

like it doesn’t matter if he accidentally bumps your nose, because he’ll apologise and the two of you will just giggle and continue.

and he might pull your hair on accident, but that way you can admit to him that it’s.. kinda hot.

and when your teeth collide when you kiss it’s only because any amount of distance between you quickly becomes unbearable, and you both need each other so, so much.

imagine slow, lazy sunday morning snuggle fuck with namjoon.

and then later when you’re on a blanket in the park reading both your books he’ll get distracted, thinking about it, lean in close and tell you something ridiculous like he wishes you would wake him up by sitting on his face.

and imagine backstage heavy petting after a show, leaving the afterparty early, because you’re both buzzing with unrelieved tension and namjoon is very hard in his pants, pressing himself against you as you try to have a polite conversation with some influencer.

love, love, loooooves, watching you ride.

and he’ll go down on you for hours if you let him, honestly.

anytime, anywhere tbh

how did you get so lucky?

#namjoon smut #namjoon scenario #namjoon #namjoon imagine #bts scenarios #bts smut #BTS au #bts imagines #bts reactions #kpop smut #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop imagines

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majorxmaggiexboy · 4 years ago

Text

watching Moulin Rouge! The, Broadway version i guess:

idk whomst these dudes are but i kinda like them

“HELLO, I LOVE YOU” i’m tempted to say ‘same’ but will withhold judgement

aww does he just speak entirely in love songs or what? that’s adorable

i only saw the movie of this story Once and it was when i was Way Too Young For It and all i remember is being like “wow the singing is Nice” and being utterly shook by whatever was up with ‘Roxanne’ and also loving Come What May and something to do with an Elephant Love Medley...i think i distantly recall this character, Christian, being maybe sort of a dazey wide-eyed dreamy sort of character and maybe a sweet guy? idk but im also p sure Love Interest dies in the end :((( do they both die? i think- but nah bc isn’t he typing up the story on an a typewriter?

his hat is nice

fully just communicating via love songs

NEVER GONNA GIVE Y

he Wiggles

well that’s settled then, I love him.

aww are they all three of them friends now? Just like that? Did they just adopt him? And he’s just like Yeah Sure? this story panders to my exact interests so far please continue

“The whole thing was the single most insane idea I’d ever heard”

(intensely) “I’ll do it”

yeah no i love it so far this could be going places

“You shall live with us here, in dire and glorious poverty” oml

IS HE SINGING ROYALS

IS THIS A SONG-UPDATED VERSION OF??? WHAT

oooh! ooh go off!

“children of the revolution” is that an enjolras reference

i like this

oh. oh heavens

i want whatever that swing is that just came down from the ceiling

i mean i believe u satine but i mean it’s literally just a cool rock idk that they’re all that great tbh there are cooler rocks???

did- did she just say-

ALL THE SINGLE-???

BRICK????

i’m not sure about the sleeveless tux situation but it’s also kinda

👀

oh no did she fall down? is she okay?

is there about to be a case of mistaken identity where she’s going to think Christian is this ‘Duke’ person?

is this the Wanna Build A Snowman music??

SHUT UP AND DANCE

this is kinda fun actually

the dancing is adorable

“Would you like me to call you...’Your Grace’?” “Uhm.” AHSFJAHAJ

these three buddies are so cute i can’t wow i love friendship so much

awww ms Satine :( someone pls give her a hug :(

cannot believe they really went here with the songs like. i was not expecting the updated music XD it kinda works tho

ooh that’s a pretty curtain

ohhhh noooooo the #miscommunication

Christian please be careful with your phrasing dude you are holding a shovel and don’t even know it my guy

oh no oh no

“I don’t have much money” “u what”

“MY GIFT IS MY SONG” just come out of nowhere bro that’s fine

oh heck they’re kissin

a LOT

ms satine did you not hit on “I don’t have much money” as a little clue that this man is not the duke

chaos chaos chaos

“She’s rather sick with some obscure malaise” first of all how dare you

WHAT WAS THAT

this is absolute chaos and i love it how are they literally describing a Sailor AU of their actual lives

“In the end, should someone die?” CHRISTIAN SHUT UP

awwww a hug :3

oh hey the Duke sings nice

THIS MAN BROUGHT BACKUP DANCERS??

your name is Mr. Nasty sir that’s what it is

“Tomorrow, for celebration. Tonight? For a Friend” AWWWWWWWWWWW

Aww Satine :(

“The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return” I remember this!

love the Friendship

OH?

mr nasty why you gotta be so sinister you nasty

is Christian what they call a ‘himbo’?

TAKE ON MEEEEE

WHAT KINDA LITTLE DANCE WAS THAT

wait was this from the Mr. McGregor version? This is famil

WE CAN BE HERRRROOOOOOOOES

WE COULD BE LOVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERS I REMEMBER THIS

MR NASTY CAN YOU PLEASE STOP IMMEDIATELY

the umbrella i can’t

fancy blue coat

omg the “I will always love you” they did that

suddenly abrupt cut to he “,,,,madness,”

is this gonna be Roxanne?

LADY GAGA???

oh heck

heck

TOXIC BY MS BRITNEY SPEARS???

SWEET DREAMS??????

“I’ve been walking the streets, going mad with every step” like when Frollo was looking for Esmeralda or??

“I bow before no man’s title” OOOOOOH TELL HIMMMM

this music is pretty

Come What May heck yeah babey

ngl christian kinda needs his hair floofed.

that hat is ABSURD

the hat is too stupid oh my word i hate it

oh sh Chris you just blew the whole operation huh

you messed up you messed up so bad

agh it’s getting Stressful

are you about to offer him drugs bc if so pls dont

oh god youre offering him drugs

this man is lit

oh here we go it’s Roxanne time

oH???

oh jeez oh heck

oh heck

wow

oh noooooooooo

oh his name’s Andre

DUDE STOP MR NASTY YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT

HECK OH NO CHRISTIANS HERE

so i guess getting him drunk six ways to neptune had the opposite effect of what was intended oh no

oh it’s like that part in bbc’s The Musketeers

aw satine :(

ROLLING IN THE DEEP??

YEAH MAN GO OFF ABSOLUTELY

ARE YOU GONNA KILL A MAN CHRISTIAN? IS THIS YOUR PRE-MURDER SONG?

KINDA WEAK ON THE WAY IN BUT

DID YOU JUST GROWL THE R

aw :(

christian if you don’t drop a chandelier on mr stinky bastard man,,

GO OFF SATINE

OH BOY IS HE GONNA MURDER THE DUKE IS HE GONNA DO IT

COME ON BABY

DANGIT CHRISLET WRONG TARGET YOU STOP THAT

THANKS BABE

NOW GO KILL HIM

YALL HAVE TEN MINUTES TO FIX THIS

WRONG. TARGET. CHRISLET.

STILL WRONG TARGET BRO

STOP PUTTING HER THROUGH EMOTIONAL DISTRESS SHE”S SUFFERED ENOUGH

i hate it here

there y’all go

but just for one day :(

son of a heck

oh so

oh it’s one of those like hadestown and tgm where they’re literally

awww :(

THE GREAT BELL OF CLIFTON

aw we’re back to just the three friends :(

come what may 😭😭😭

ohhhh wow

well then. that was...yeah...yeah.

#maggie watches the moulin rouge musical #long post #moulin rouge

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years ago

Text

Dating Han Jisung

*before we start can I just say how hot that gif is*

A/n: not requested but I need more han content (she says like she hasn't already checked her masterlist twenty times and it isn't filled with him)

REQUESTS OPEN

Warnings: Swearing probably, Jisung being the love of my life uwu

First off

Reader you are one lucky bitch to be dating Han Peter Jisung

Can I be you?

Probably the more emotional one out of the two of you

He is just so passionate about everything he does and he would definitely be the same in a relarionship

You guys were probably good friends before dating

Definitely has a key to your apartment

Some mornings you will just wake up and Jisung will just be there sleeping next to you

Fluffy haired jisung in the morning fucking kill me why do I do this

"Sung?"

"Mmph..."

"One more minute?"

"Nrrggh...."

"Okay."

When he does spend the night he usually goes to bed after you

Never really sleeping in the same position

His favorite is sleeping behind you and holding onto your waist with one of his legs in between yours

That way he can snuggle into your shoulder or the crook of your neck

Also (like my Jungkook one) probably met your parents on accident

Your parents came over for dinner one night and were shocked when a random boy walked in wearing baggy sweatpants, a hoodie and a hat

"Uhh.....-this is 403 yes? I didn't walk into the wrong house again did I?"

"Who are you?"

Jisung literally looking at the next apartment number before concluding it was in fact your apartment

"Sung? Oh my God!"

Poor little shocked baby

Parents are floored when you greet him with a kiss on the cheek

"Mom, dad...this is Han Jisung. He is my boyfriend."

Cue nervous laughter and smile from Han

He literally just came from a dance practice and looks a sweaty mess and now is meeting parents.....

Someone kill him now

Does his best to make a better first impression

Your parents don't really like him at first

Not because of him but because he is an idol

They don't think he will have enough time for you and he might never have a stable income

It really stresses him out because Jisung just really likes you and wants everything to be perfect

After they leave he has a mini meltdown because the both of you could tell it went badly

"They hate me, Y/n!"

"So?"

"So! Y/n when I ask your father if I can marry you someday he'll say 'Nope sorry. You're a douche who can't earn money for my daughter. Leave and go shove a fist up your ass!'"

It becoming your first big fight

It doesn't really....end.

You both decide that it isn't good for you relationship if you just dwell on it so you decide to cross that bridge when it comes

Eventually your parents grow to really love Jisung (especially your mom)

Jisung is a mothers son in law dream let's be honest guys

Huge fan of PDA for two reasons

1: he can shove the fact he has a girlfriend in the boys faces

2: he just really like having some sort of contact with you

We all know Han has a little bit of an ego and a lot of confidence but I think some of that goes away when the cameras are off

When he reaches out to you most of the time it's like he is seeking comfort or he gets a little nervous

Big hand holder

Honestly I think he loves your hands

When he is especially nervous, self conscious, or embarrassed and you are with him he will gently play with your fingers

You being his muse

Stray kids dont really have a lot of songs about 'love' but Jisung has hundreds written about you

Horror movie are nowhere to be seen in your house

Han would probably really like to watch like dramas or really obscure and lesser known stuff

ALSO HIGH KEY THINK YOU GUYS WOULD WATCH TEEN WOLF

It's like your couple show

Him wanting to go as Stiles and Lydia for Halloween

Dates are always 'chill'

Playing Crash Bandicoot in the dorms and making fun of each other cause you both suck

Going to hole in the wall restaurants

Both of you trying to learn to cook

"Y/n is this supposed to be brown?"

"I don't know. Is salmon usually brown?"

You've talked about moving in together but he doesn't want to until you both decide to go public

The boys loving you

You being the biggest STAY ever

Jisung doesn't like to leave you behind when he is on tour so he and his manager found a way to disguise you as one of the staff so you could get on the plane with them

Falling asleep on his shoulder almost immediately

Him working on lyrics while you sleep

Sadly all the effort the staff and him did went to waste when Seungmin and Felix accidently posted a selfie where you and Han were in the seat behind them and Han was kissing your forehead while you were latched onto his arm

None of the boys found out until after the flight when they could use their phones again.

There were more fans than normal at the airport and all of them were bombarding Jisung with questions

One of the fans got through the barrier and launched herself at you

Han immediately dropped his stuff and tried to get her off of you with Changbin's help

Security eventually intervened and paparazzi were very happy with the pictures they got of him looking worried at you in his arms

After that Security started to break and fans started running at the both of you screaming questions

Which caused the two of you to run through the airport trying to escape the fans

The two of you were just two 19 year olds. You didnt know how to deal with this

So the two of you just camped out in the boys bathroom with you sitting in Jisung's lap waiting for security

With your relationship out Han shows you off proudly and STAYs have reacted more kindly than before

Jisung now uses the skz insta account as your personal couple account

Photos via Seungmin because he was sorry about the plane thing

A couple months after he moves in with you

Living with him isn't all that different from before except slightly more to clean

You guys are either always full of energy and doing something or extremely tired and just want to sit around with each other

You both feed off of each other so when one is tired the other starts to kind of feel the same

You definitely said 'I love you' first

He did love you

Very much

He just wanted to tease you a little bit

Anytime you said it he would smile and kiss you before walking away

You were walking out after a shower when he just said it out of the blue

"You're sure it's not because I'm half naked."

"That's 10% of the reason."

Definitely he is more a kissing guy

Gives the best hugs ever tho

One arm around you shoulder or holding your head to his chest and the other wrapped tightly around your waist

Playing with his fluffy hair so he can fall asleep

SLIGHTLY 18+ CONTENT TO FOLLOW

Han definitely has a hair kink

Loves when you pull on his hair

Boy is a motherfucking dom and you can fight me

Rarely a switch but when he is boy is he bratty

I can see him loving shower sex

Very very generous in bed

Would never do bondage with you

Always makes sure you feel comfortable

Literally the best at aftercare

You both have for sure fucked in the studio

This boy has vocals on stage and off ;)

Foreplay? Don't know her.

Jisung definitely has a lot of sexual energy but he never really likes to plan out if sex is going to happen even like an hour before hand

Therefore there isnt a set amount of times a week or even a month you do the deed

OKAY IM DONE WITH HAN BEING HOT IN BED OKAY

I think other than his hair God damn your favorite part of him might be his nose or his lips

Cause fuck he has the most beautiful smile

Dating Jisung would literally be the best thing in the world

It would be like dating your soulmate and your bestfriend.

God how did I bias wreck myself when my bias is Han?

Requests are open for imagines, preferences and other stuff!

Masterlist

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