#my parents pay a fortune for this and its still shit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

youryanderedaddy · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

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

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”

#yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere male #yancore #yandere oneshot #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere concepts

406 notes · View notes

graceslavenderhaze · 4 years ago

Text

fight night (jatp crew x reader)

readers home life hasn’t been the best and they’ve been lying to their friends about it. one night it all builds up and the reader shows up to julies, distraught. ( for this the boys are alive bc it just worked out best but other than that no changes.)

this has been sitting in my drafts so i thought i’d post it

trigger warning: family fights, anxiety, depression, past talk of eating disorders.

For a long time you use to just keep everything buried down. That was your fatal flaw. It wasn’t a trust issue, you just always had this feeling that if no one knew then everything would be fine. But your family had lately been falling apart, your parents always seemed disappointed in you, you were fighting with your siblings more and it felt it a ballon that kept on expanding. you didn’t know when everything was going to explode it just kept getting worse.

Today was the exploding point. It seemed like no matter what you did, it just wasn’t good enough. You were the black sheep in your family, they made you out to be it. They complained about how you dressed, what your room looked like, the music you played, the people you hung out with, and for what? You didn’t do anything that was textbook problem child material.

You tried your hardest in school, you never asked for much, you cleaned almost everyone’s mess at home, and after a while that became your routine. Never be seen, never be heard and never get any credit for everything you do. Meanwhile your siblings, little miss perfect and the star academic got everything you wanted. Your parents attention, their approval, and their constant reassurance.

By the time you were in high school, you were emotionally independent. A stranger to your own family pretty much. You went to an art school along with your siblings. Even as the oldest, you quickly fell into their shadows. Your sister a musical protégé on the violin, your parents paid for the best lessons, and without a doubt she’ll probably attend some ivy league. Your brother was in the advanced academics program, with yale and harvard already offering him scholarships in his sophomore year. Then there was you. You were in the art program, and while your teacher swears that all the top art schools have you on their radar. You still felt insignificant.

You worked a weekend job at the local coffee shop, latte love , it wasn’t everything but it helped pay for art supplies for you to build your portfolio. Their you met Julie Molina and Flynn Davis. Two girls who were your age, they attended the music program at your art school. You recognized them, Julie had been like the sun at the school. In the hallways always smiling and then her mom died, the sun went away hidden behind clouds. While Flynn was unapologetically herself and didn’t backdown from telling people how things were, she was fearless. They were also probably the first two people who knew your siblings and were able to separate you from them.

Then later on in the year the three of you met Luke, Alex and Reggie. Latte Love was hosting its monthly open mic night. It was almost a year after Julie’s mom died, so in an attempt to coax her back into music, Flynn brought her around. You offered free hot chocolate on the house as a bribe if she wanted to come. After an hour of mainly middle schoolers trying to face stage fright, soccer parents who desperately tried to hold onto their high school garage band phase and any other mediocre act who gave it their all in effort. Sunset Curve preformed.

That night honestly sent all six of your lives’ into a full spiral but in the best way. A month after you had met sunset curve, they formed a band with Julie and became, Julie and the Phantoms. Flynn becoming the band manager and you being the artist for ticket designs, posters and anything else. It helped distract you from everything going on in your life and with your friends you didn’t feel left out or the black sheep. You were you and they loved you for all of it.

But you could only be happy for so long. Your family always managed to make you feel horrible about yourself, this week had felt like the worst its ever been. Your sister being recruited for a summer symphony in Australia, your brother would be off at a stem camp and your summer plans were just to work, make art and hang with your friends. Your family wasted no time in telling you that you were wasting your time, or that it was just some silly childish thing. They didn’t understand how big Julie and the Phantoms were becoming. The latest gig being opening for panic at the disco at the Orpheum.

You couldn’t take it anymore, which is how you ended up walking to Julie’s house right in the beginning of a thunderstorm. When you finally made it to Julie’s front stoop you were drenched head to toe. Julie being the one to pull you in the front door. In her oversized smiley face sweatshirt and baggy sweats. The movie night dress code.

“Did you walk here?” She exclaims looking at the outdoor storm and turning back to her best friend. Your eyes red from crying and cheeks raw from wiping your tears rapidly. She’d been expecting you for weekly movie night, especially since her dad and brother had been away for a baseball game for the weekend. Just not in this state.

“More like swam.” You replied with a dry laugh. Trying to desperately hold yourself together. Knowing your friends were all in the living room, you didn’t want to burden them with your breakdown.

“Hey was that the chinese food! Y/n? Whats wrong bean?” Flynn stated her mood changing halfway through the sentence noticing the state of their best friend. Who looked like she’d just had the world’s worst day. You smiled fondly at the nice name she’d given you, which was a coffee pun.

“Family shit. Like always.” You said looking down at the floor and the puddle that you were slowly dripping onto the Molina residence’s welcome mat. Both girls smiled sympathetically, they had their fair share of stories of how bad things could get at the L/n household.

“Come on! It’s movie night, you’re getting into cozy clothes and having junk food with your friends.” Julie said taking your hand and leading you upstairs to her room. Julie handed you spare clothes due to you being completely soaked. Then a towel to dry yourself off.

“Here, once you’re ready to come downstairs, we can put your stuff into the dryer.” Julie said smiling at her friend before leaving to give her privacy. Taking the towel she gave you and trying to dry your hair. Then changing into the cozy clothes she gave you. Your phone blowing up from texts from your family. Your parents wanting to know where you were. Not caring how hurt you were. Your siblings saying half assed apologies they didn’t mean. They’d done this before and they’d do it again.

Ignoring the messages, you walked back downstairs. The comforting smell of chinese food wafting at you. Julie, Alex and Flynn stood at the table. Meanwhile Luke and Reggie were were at the local 7/11 getting slushies.

“Did anyone order a hot mess?” You said jokingly getting their attention. Alex standing up and instantly hugging you as if he’d never see you again. Hugging him back. Alex’s hugs always felt as if it was a cloud.

The Molina residence house phone then rang, the caller id labeling your house. “We can just let it go to message.” Julie said turning back from the phone to you. You shook your head, “I’m so over this bullshit.” Walking over to the phone you picked it up.

“Hello ever so loving parental unit.” You said with sarcasm dripping off every word. “Pop off!” Flynn said as she bit into a dumpling. You bit back a smile. “Where are you? You can’t run out because you’re upset.” You heard your mom say. You rolled your eye.

“Where i am every friday night. I told you in advance i had plans so when you take your attention span off miss perfect and genius boy remember you have a third fucking child. Goodnight!” You said promptly and then hung up placing the phone back on back on its home base. “Beyoncé would approve.” Flynn said clapping for dramatic effect.

“How much trouble are you going to be in for that?” Alex said passing your usual that Julie knew to order for you, you shrugged. “Bold of you to assume they’ll remember to ground me.”

“Wow what a rag tag group of mommy and daddy issues we are.” Reggie announced as he placed the tray of slushies down on the counter. “Excuse you!” Julie exclaimed as she took a slip of her blueberry slushie. “She’s dead, that’s an issue.” Flynn said as she grabbed her green apple one. You choked on your food for a second, “Out of pocket!”

“She’s right babe.” Luke said hugging her from behind. “You have mommy issues too.” Julie said turning around slightly. “Only the hottest people have both mommy and daddy issues!” Alex exclaimed holding a hand of for you and Reggie to high five.

“My back hurts from having a healthy parental relationship and carrying that standard.” Flynn said cracking open her fortune cookie. You laughed looking around at your dysfunctional friend group.

“We are all going to hell for these jokes alone.” You said taking a sip of your slushie. Reggie scoffed, “We’re just warming up.”

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #reggie peters #reggie peters imagine #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson #julie molina #julie molina imagine #flynn jatp #flynn nolastname #alex mercer #alex mercer imagine

96 notes · View notes

memxntomxri · 3 years ago

Text

ｌｏｎｅｌｙｔｏｇｅｔｈｅｒ

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ʜᴏᴍᴇ

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - kuroo tetsurou x kozume kenma

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - fluff, comfort

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - kenma has a breakdown over haters on the internet. kuroo comforts him.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 1.4k

𝘵𝘸 - online people being assholes, panic attacks, referenced stalker-ish behaviors

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - fluff to make up for day 1's fic. thank you for discord server friends (LouEve_094, Lena) who listened to me screech while writing this.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

Kuroo’s assistant, Takahashi, tentatively stuck his head into the conference room, where Kuroo was currently listening to a pitch about doing a joint press venture with the baseball league. It was interesting, but not enough that he didn’t notice his assistant’s frantic finger-pointing and beckoning.

Kuroo murmured a quiet “Sorry” and excused himself from the table, stepping out to converse with Takahashi. Takahashi wouldn’t bother Kuroo unless it wasn’t urgent.

“Sorry, sir, but I’m so glad Suzuki-san informed me about the situation, I—” he began. Kuroo held up a hand. Takahashi was trustworthy and brilliant with a spreadsheet program, but he could also run on for hours if one didn’t force him to cut to the chase.

“Takahashi, what exactly happened?” Kuroo said. Takahashi shot him a confused look, then his eyes widened almost comically.

“Kuroo-san, did you not see your ring?” he asked. In their world, because of some god’s whim or something, everyone was born with a ring tattoo on their right ring finger. It acted like some sort of mood ring… for your soulmate. Blue meant sadness, red meant anger, green meant disgust or jealousy, yellow happiness, gold pride, so on, so forth. When you met them, the ring would flare a bright, distinctive color. Kuroo had been fortunate enough to witness his flare as a measly 8-year-old, and Kenma had been stuck with him ever since.

Kuroo automatically glanced down at his right hand. Shit, he cursed. It was black all the way through—that was not good. That meant that something had set off Kenma’s panic attacks—a bad one, because Kuroo couldn’t see the swirls of grey that meant that his fiancée wasn’t completely lost yet—and Kuroo felt horrible for not noticing.

Takahashi gulped. Kuroo had momentarily forgotten that his assistant existed. “There’s more, Kuroo-san.” he said warily, as if approaching a wild animal.

“What?” Kuroo snapped, then shook his head quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Takahashi smiled gently, a reassuring one meant to placate Kuroo’s wild emotions. “It’s okay, Kuroo-san. Um… are you sure you want to know what’s going on with Kozume-san?” he grimaced. It must be bad for Takahashi, of all people, to be making negative facial expressions. “Just tell me.” Kuroo barked. He winced. “Sorry, didn’t mean that either.”

Takahashi replied, “It’s alright. Anyways, it seems that when Kozume-san beat out that beauty youtuber, Alice007, for the first Japanese Youtuber to get 10 million subscribers today, she went on a tangent on Twitter and caused a lot of her fans to start attacking Kozume-san. They… also mentioned you.”

Kuroo’s head whipped up. “What?”

“Apparently, Alice-san’s sister went to Nekoma High too and believed that she was your soulmate. If the tweets are any indication, both of them are a little, forgive me for saying this in a professional setting, delusional.” he said apologetically. Kuroo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. On one hand, the love of his life was being torn down online. On the other hand, Takahashi was finally saying something negative about a human being.

Kuroo tipped his head back.

“Well, I’m heading home. Sorry for flaking out on the meeting, but can you please tell them a brief summary of what’s going on? Don’t go into too much detail though, Kenma values his privacy.” he requested. Takahashi nodded. God, Kuroo was lucky to have his assistant. “Thanks, Takahashi, you’re a lifesaver. Why don’t you take Friday night out and take Mizuki-san,” Takahashi’s 158cm tall spitfire soulmate who always seemed to have an infinite supply of dirty jokes, “out on a date?”

Takahashi allowed a small smile to break his professional face. “That would be very nice, Kuroo-san. Thank you. Now go, Kozume-san needs you.” he said, shooing Kuroo down the hall towards the elevators.

For someone who acted so demure while working, Takahashi sure could be forceful when he wanted to.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

Kuroo nudged the door to his and Kenma’s two-bedroom (one was Kenma’s streaming room) open. His arms were laden with bags from the nearby grocery store, filled with Kenma’s favorite comfort foods, a few new video games, and a box of prescription meds for his anxiety that Kenma had slowly moved on from.

“Kenma?” he called down the hallway. No response, except for sounds of muffled sobbing coming from their bedroom. Kuroo kicked off his shoes and set the bags down, heading down the hall to investigate.

He cracked open the door a few centimeters, and there Kenma was, curled up in a ball on the king-sized mattress, phone an arm’s length away, screen cracked. Kuroo tracked his eyes to the correspondingly-sized dent in the wall. He walked in, sitting down next to Kenma’s prone form, but not touching him.

“Hey, kitten.” he greeted quietly. Kenma reached for his sleeve, rubbing his hand twice, up, down, on Kuroo’s wrist. Ah. That was the signal for when he had gone nonverbal but wanted Kuroo to give him physical and verbal affection.

Kuroo scooped Kenma up into his arms, tucking him into his lap as he rested his chin on top of Kenma’s head. “I’m sorry people are being assholes, Kenma. I hope you don’t believe them, because they sure as hell aren’t true.” Small hiccups as more tears ran down Kenma’s face.

That was alright. Sometimes, Kenma just needed someone to hold him and tell him that he was alright.

“I bought that game you wanted. Overcooked? Yeah, that was its name. We can try it out when you feel up to it. Maybe invite Akaashi and Bokuto over. Chibi-chan and Kageyama too, if they’re in Tokyo.” Kuroo continued.

“You know, all these people love you, Kenma. It doesn’t matter what people online think, especially when they’re just following a deranged leader.” Kuroo reassured him.

Kenma looked up at him questioningly. Kuroo sighed. “Yeah, I heard. I have no idea who Alice-san’s sister is,” he said in response to Kenma’s silent question, “besides, I trust our parents and our own memories more than some beauty guru who can’t take being beaten.” he scoffed.

Kenma took a few deep breaths, a sign that he was slowly calming down. Kuroo rubbed comforting circles down his back. “T-Tetsu.” he murmured. “Am I a bad soulmate because I’m not that affectionate?”

Kuroo jolted, then cupped his hands gently around Kenma’s face, leaning down to press a light kiss to his lips. “No, Kenma, never. I know you love me, and you know I wouldn’t have you any other way. You’re my kitten, remember?” he reminded. Kenma nodded slowly. Good. Kuroo breathed a slight sigh of relief in his mind. It had been months since he had needed to do this.

Kenma continued, speaking even quieter. “Will everyone leave me? Am I going to be lonely in the end?” he asked. Kuroo’s heart ached. He knew that that had always been one of Kenma’s insecurities—that his aloofness would drive people away from him. “Kenma, if you’re alone, then I’ll be alone with you.” Kuroo said resolutely.

Kenma broke down into a few sobs, hopefully getting it out of his system. “T-Tetsu, they found our address.” Kuroo froze. “What?” Kenma nodded. “Yeah. S-someone sent me a red paint-stained picture of me with a knife stabbed through my f-forehead.” he struggled to get out.

“Shh, shh, Kenma, I’m here now. Don’t force yourself if you don’t want to talk.” Kuroo reassured.

Shit. They had both known that this could become a probability when Kenma had started getting famous, and they had been lucky for a few years, but someone finding out at this moment was just bad luck.

Kuroo wrapped his arms tighter around Kenma’s smaller frame. “Don’t worry, kitten, I’ll protect you. Always and forever, remember?” he said with a cheeky smile, pointing at the band (the metal one) around Kenma’s left ring finger.

Kenma’s quiet, melodic chuckle filled the air.

Kuroo chanced a glance down at his right ring finger. It was still dark and murky, but there were traces of pink and a pale color that he hoped was yellow. It wasn’t back to usual, but they were getting there.

｡ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ｡

A few hours later…

Curled up on the couch, Kenma fiddled away at his PSP. Kuroo plopped down next to him, holding two steaming cups of chamomile tea. “Tetsu, I placed an order for a new phone.” Kenma said, not looking up from the phone.

“Oh also, you’re still going to have to pay half the rent for our new apartment. I’m not going to be your sugar daddy, no matter how much you beg.” Kenma deadpanned.

Kuroo snorted. Nothing ever really changed with his Kenma.

｡o°✥✤✣ 　　 ✣✤✥°o｡

#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu!!#kuroken #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x kenma #fluff #haikyuu fluff #comfort #kurokenweek #kurokenweek2021

21 notes · View notes

bbugyu · 2 years ago

Note

NO YOU ARE SO CUTE HELP 😭😭 i love how you elaborated some details and things you liked from each show you’ve watched/you’re watching 😩 the dedication ✨ i checked every reco and i must say u have immaculate taste omg???? the synopses have piqued my interest to the point that they r already on my watchlist KSJDSKJSKS THE DOKI EFFECT 😎

i’m currently watching trixie motel and when i tell you i absolutely love everything from it!!!! the colors of the rooms, the themes, the whole transformation UGH chef’s kiss 🤌 thank you so much for this reco aaaaaa i really enjoy watching it :(( such a serotonin boost!

i definitely need to avail hbo go membership, apple tv+, and other streaming platforms bcs netflix just ain’t doing it for me 😒

hope you’re doing well, love! 💗

- 🐰

PLEASESADSDF im not cute 😠😠😠 i just.... hyperfocus really easily LMAO can't you tell by the way i write about jeonghan ??

YESSS I'M SO GLAD UR ENJOYING TRIXIE MOTEL THAT SHIT GIVES ME SO MUCH SEROTONINNNNN i'm actually two episodes behind bc my life has been Very Hectic this lovely wonwoo month and i wish it had more to do with wonwoo and less to do with everything in my life exploding at once. BUT WE GOOD and i neeeeed to catch up asap i can't believe it's already over 😭😭

new show alert! i am currently watching extraordinary attorney woo week to week (about the first autistic attorney in korea and the cases she tackles as a rookie) and i just started it's okay to not be okay, both on netflix! i know the latter got a lot of hype while it was airing but that was before i had really given a lot of kdramas a shot (i also don't generally like jdramas despite being japanese because i find the writing a little tumultuous buuuut these newer dramas are so well written and acted???) and now that i'm full force into them i can't stop watching more. i also recently stanned fromis_9 because i watched the hybe picnic (for svt obviously) and i literally fell in love with every single one of them and i've been bopping to their music for literal years so. took the plunge! and i saw that gyuri was in its okay to not be okay so! I HAD TO WATCH ITDKJSFHSDKJHF

i am very fortunate that i have a network of friends and family and we all pay for different streaming services and share passwords LMAO like me and my partner only pay for hulu and amazon prime but i'm on my parents' netflix still, my brother has hbo max, and @babiemingoo lets me use her disney+ account sdfhjkhafsk sharing is caring!

ngl these have been trying times but i am okay! i'm managing best i can, keeping my head up, and continuing to indulge in hobbies even if i barely have time for them, because that's how i've learned to stay sane haha. and things are looking to be heading in a positive direction after today so we good!

i hope you're doing well too!

#🐰 anon #ask #love u love seein u in my inbox

1 note · View note

bestie-enthusiast · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: First (Proper) Meetings

This is the first proper chapter of my PTA! Dad Zemo fanfiction, and the 3rd of 11 chapters. The chapter is located under the cut.

Chapter word count: 4265

Fic Summary:

After the untimely death of both his wife and father due to a bombing, Baron Helmut Zemo takes his son and immigrates to America. He does not expect to find a family nor a romantic partner, and he especially does not expect to find the ability to heal. To grieve.

And yet, here we are.

This is a story about connections, growing, healing and mourning the past while still appreciating the future and all it has to offer.

One Year Later

“Come on now, my sonnenschein. AJ and Cass are most certainly already waiting for you.” Zemo told his son as he dragged him out the door. Carl had been having dreams (memories, blood, dust-) about his mother lately, and it had been difficult for both of them, especially considering the new school year was about to begin.

“Yes, papa.” Carl muttered sleepily, getting in and buckling himself when his father told him too. It wasn’t a particularly flashy car, but it did scream luxury, Zemo didn’t particularly care about the coincidental bragging though. He drove Carl to school in silence, letting his son have a few minutes of rest while he did the same. He didn’t sleep of course, just took a few moments to calm himself. It was stressful helping Carl process his dreams (memories, memories, memories-), let alone discussing his late wife. Carl wasn’t young enough when she died to forget her, and he couldn’t decide whether that was fortunate or not.

Zemo sighed and perfectly parked yet again, helping a just-awakened Carl out of the car and handing him his school bag. Now that his school was in sight, Carl had perked up a bit, rushing his papa along rather than the other way around. Zemo watched carefully as he rushed over to AJ and Cass, before looking around for Sarah.

He smiled when he saw her, then grimaced when he noticed who she was talking to. Fucking Carol. Nevertheless, he made his way over. He needed to play nice with Carol in order to keep his role in the Parent-Teacher Association.

“Ladies, always a pleasure.” He greeted with a smirk, which turned into more of a smile at Sarah’s hidden huff of laughter.

“Oh hello, Baron Zemo.” Carol greeted flirtatiously, and he had to hide the way his smile faltered with a glance toward the playground.

“Just Zemo works fine, Mrs. West.” He told her. While he was aware of his title and it’s connections, he did not want to flaunt it, just like his riches. He wanted Carl to live as normal a life as possible, which meant that he would have to do the same, not that he wanted much to do with what his future would have entailed without the unfortunate status of Sokovia. Sarah let out another huff of laughter.

Suddenly a new voice joined them. “Excuse me,” The man said, gently manervouring through them. Zemo knew immediately who it was from the voice, and even if he didn’t, the metal prosthetic was more than enough of a give away.

“It’s fine,” he heard himself say faintly, letting his eyes flicker down the man's whole body. James Barnes was a very attractive man, he thought to himself.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Just in a bit of a rush this morning.” He didn’t leave any time for a reply as he rushed into the school, fumbling with the stack of boxes he was carrying in his arms. Zemo stared at him behind the entire time until he was out of view. He knew he was blushing but he couldn’t help it.

“Well, well, well…” Sarah commented, a sly grin on her face. Carol looked rather huffy though, and cut her off.

“How disrespectful! He shouldn’t even be allowed near the children with his “PTSD.” And that metal arm, I mean think of the children! They shouldn’t know about it, and he should get a more realistic one. That would be far better for the children, not confusing them with his… robot arm.” Carol ranted angrily, her face growing a rather unpleasant shade of red.

“Carol!” One of the playground supervisors shouted in their general direction. “Hunter had another accident!” Carol stormed over in yet another huff, and both Zemo and Sarah let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know where she gets off being all high and mighty like that.” Sarah complained, before her mouth turned into a sly grin once again. “But I do know where you're getting off.” Zemo let out an undignified snort of laughter, covering his mouth in horror as he realised what he had done.

“I have no idea what you mean!” He protested. Sarah was very much like a sister to him, and she was also the reason he was on the PTA board. He enjoyed going to the meetings, especially when it came to fundraisers and budgets for prizes. He wasn’t the type to flaunt his wealth, but in the cases of donations? He would totally out-pay every other parent out there.

“Uh-huh, and you weren’t just ogling at your kid’s teacher’s butt?” She asked teasingly. The bell rang, cutting off their conversation. Despite the fact that it had been a year at this point, he still flinched at the loud, shrill sounding bell that signalled the start of the school day.

“Of course not! That would be incredibly impolite.” He retorted, smiling even as he protested her words. “It is good to see you again, Sarah.” He said quietly as they both watched their children line up together.

“You too, Zee.” She replied, just as soft. “And don’t think I didn’t see those bags under your eyes. Pick up your act or I’ll smack some sense into you.” Zemo ducked his head and blushed at both the nickname and the vaguely threatening nag to take care of himself.

“Apologies, I will ensure that you will not need to “smack some sense into me.” He assured her, knowing that he wasn’t actually going to do anything to sleep better, simply invest in some concealer. He felt bad planning to deceive Sarah like this, but he really was okay, so it didn’t matter. All he was doing was preventing her from worrying, that was a favour, right?

Once all the children were inside the school, he and Sarah said their goodbyes. He walked over to his car, and once in the privacy of it’s tinted windows, dropped his head and took in a deep, shuddering breath. He had no idea how he was going to stay awake and aware through the PTA meeting later that day. It was to discuss how the first day had gone and such, but Zemo really couldn’t care less, especially considering he already had a full day of work ahead of him.

Sighing, he turned on his car and drove home. Oeznik greeted him and took the car keys and his coat. Zemo muttered a thanks and headed to his office, spreading a fake grin on his face as he began his day of online meetings and phone meetings with his accountants, lawyers and business personnel.

The hours dragged by slowly, and he was thankful when the time came to pick Carl up from school. He had gotten Oeznik to go out and purchase him some expensive, good quality concealer, which he generously applied over his eye bags. Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he took his coat and keys from Oeznik, and headed to pick up Carl. Oeznik came along so that he could drive Carl home and Zemo could stay for the PTA meeting. He would either walk or call a car home, whichever he was feeling in the aftermath of the meeting.

Oeznik drove, which Zemo was grateful for, not trusting himself to not fall asleep at the wheel. He dozed slightly on the short drive to the school, but never for more than a few minutes. Oeznik quietly called out when they had arrived, and Zemo gracefully stepped from the car, looking every ounce of the baron that he was, and not an exhausted single-dad who was still mourning his wife and probably needed therapy.

“Thank you Oeznik,” he murmured quietly in his native tongue. He was still fluent, as were Oeznik and Carl. Even though Sokvia had technically fallen as a country, cannibalized by its neighbouring countries and removed from the map.

He plastered on a fake smile and took his place beside Sarah in waiting. She was talking to someone on the phone, once he heard the name he knew it was her brother. Sam Wilson. He did not know much about him, just that he left whatever he was doing to join Sarah in raising his nephews.

“Everything okay?” He asked, carefully making sure none of the residual tiredness leaked into his voice. Sarah was very observant when it came to the health of the people around her, so he couldn’t let her see anything at all. No signs that he was unwell in any way. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he did. He just- this was something he needed to deal with himself. He could comfort Carl and talk, he could. It was easier. He could tell Carl that it was okay to cry, that they could talk for as long as he’d like, as much as he’d like, tell him that acceptance wasn’t easy, that it was going to be okay. But when it came to himself, none of that applied.

He should be strong enough to handle it, handle everything. If he couldn’t handle it himself, then how was he meant to help Carl? He needed to stay strong.

He was broken out of his thoughts when Sarah responded. “Yeah, we’re just a bit tight on money at the moment, but Sam is insisting we need to keep the goddamn boat. And don’t you dare go offering anything, we’re fine.” Zemo pursed his lips but nodded, already mentally planning how he was going to get Sarah to accept help; he could, after all, provide more than just financial aid.

The bell rang, he had to make an actual effort to flinch this time, he was very tired, and felt disoriented. Sarah laughed at him, which means he must have done a good job. He blinked harshly a few times to clear his blurring vision. He just had to get through the meeting, or maybe he could skip it and just give the school a generous donation to “help” them forget about it. But then Sarah would worry, so he would suffer through it.

AJ and Cass came rushing out, with Carl trailing behind them, clearly tired. Although he perked up once his papa waved at him. He rushed at him, and just like always, Zemo scooped him up and gave him a hug, before gently setting him on the ground. The PTA meeting technically started fifteen minutes after the school day let out, but most members took longer, and no one ever commented, except Carol, because they all had kids, or taught kids, and understood.

Zemo led Carl over to the car, helping him in and telling Oeznik that Carl could take a short nap before completing any school work. Oeznik nodded and Zemo started his walk back down to the school. The secretary buzzed him in before he could even ask, and he gave her a polite smile as he made his way over to the teachers lounge turned PTA meeting room. He blinked heavily, staring at the door for a second. He was contemplating just turning around when he heard a voice behind him.

“Are you just going to stand there or…?” It was James, and Zemo blinked again, struggling to find his voice.

“My apologies.” He replied quietly, “Just debating whether or not I want to deal with Carol today.” He quipped, opening the door for James to enter. He put on his best smile and straightened his posture. It was time to put on his mask of “Insufferable PTA dad who knows he’s better than you.”

The only other people here so far were staff and Carol, who was sitting in the seat directly beside his usual one. His smile grew even faker and more tense as he reluctantly sat down. Carol was the type of rich person who flaunted it, even though she had never actually had a job before, and all of her money was from her father and her husband's father.

“Hey, Helmut~” She said in a flirtatious voice, and he couldn’t hold back the flinch at her butchered pronunciation of his first name. She said it like an American, not the way it was meant to be pronounced in its language of origin.

“Hello, Mrs. West.” He greeted quietly, hoping that she wouldn’t be like this the whole time. “And like I’ve said numerous times before this, it is just Zemo.” He hoped that she would finally accept the fact that he preferred to be referred to as just his last name, but that hope was quickly crushed.

“But I like Helmut!” She shouted, pouting, once again butchering the pronunciation. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, calming himself. He had to stay polite and perfect. He had an image to maintain.

“Mrs. West-” He began, but was cut off by a snort.

“Your name is Helmut?” James asked incredulously, looking at him in exasperation. “What kind of rich person name is that?”

Zemo took another breath to calm and compose himself. “That is not the correct pronunciation, and it is not a traditionally “rich person” name as you put it, Mr. Barnes.” Zemo gently corrected, trying not to let any anger seep through his carefully constructed words. “And I prefer to go by my last name. Just my last name. Zemo.”

James hummed in consideration, and Carol let out a huff at her flirtations having fallen short. Zemo struggled to keep his eyes open in the lull of conversation as they waited for their final members, Sarah among them.

When Sarah arrived she took the seat on the other side of him, and he almost cried in relief at having a familiar, friendly face. It seemed that while James was nice to look at, he had some sort of dislike for upper-class people, which Zemo knew was not uncommon. Not that it didn’t hurt, being judged for something he personally had no control over.

But that's beside the point. The meeting started, and people started talking. Zemo kept himself awake by repeatedly pinching his hand, squeezing the soft flesh tightly everytime his focus started to slip. Several of the mothers attending tried to make flirty conversation with him, but he politely shut them down. All of them were married women, and he was not going to get involved with a married woman. Nor any woman for that matter, or man. He was not planning on ever seeking out a long term connection, not after Heike.

The meeting dragged on and Zemo, while occasionally participating, mostly stayed quiet. It wasn’t as though he was extraordinarily vocal at these meetings anyway, but he was more quiet than normal.

“I know you think I’m a dream but pinching yourself is not the right way to prove it.” A husky voice murmured to him. He looked over to see that Carol had physically gotten up to rant at some point, and James had taken her seat.

Zemo blinked in confusion. He was pretty sure James was flirting with him, which seemed unlikely, considering the man's attitude when they last spoke.

“More like this meeting is a nightmare I want to wake up from,” he replied, keeping voice as quiet as James. Carol had grown louder in her shrieking and it was giving him a headache. Well, at least now he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to.

“Carol.” He said just loud enough to interrupt her and gain everyone else's attention, but he did not yell. Yelling was unfitting of a man of his stature. Baron’s do not yell, they command a room with silence, or with patience and a steady voice.

“Yes, Zemo?” Carol asked, eyes going half lidded and practically turning into hearts. He gave her a patient smile back, like she was a toddler too excited to wait.

“I’m afraid I have a rather potent headache at the moment,” he said, perfectly coaching his expression into something a tad more vulnerable than normal. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep your-” ‘temper tantrum’ he thought to himself “-louder ideas, for the next meeting?” He pushed as much pain and tiredness into his eyes and smile as he could, which was a lot at the current moment.

Carol looked properly scolded and shrunk in slightly. “Sorry, Zemo.” She said quietly, sitting in James' original seat since he was still in hers.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” He replied, giving her a tight smile. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, and hoped it was because he got Carol to be quiet and not because of his admission of a headache. He could feel James staring at him, so he looked at him, tilted his head so that only James could see his face, and gave him a smirk. He hoped it wasn’t too obviously fake, and it seemed like it was real enough because James let out a huff of laughter (and oh how that made his heart soar) and turned away.

The meeting continued on for a while longer before everyone packed up. He had recorded the audio of the whole meeting on his phone, so he didn’t worry about missing anything. He was looking forward to listening to Carol’s rant a second time, but he did catch James’ laughter. He smiled giddily at the thought.

“What made you so happy?” Sarah asked from behind him as they were leaving the school.

“I got Carol to shut up.” He responded, biting his lip. He knew that if Sarah knew the true reason behind his smile she would never drop it.

“Uh huh.” She replied teasingly, before saying her goodbyes. They parted ways and he decided to walk home. He had just started walking when he heard loud, fast approaching footsteps behind him. He instinctively stepped out of the way and put himself into a loose fighting stance. Despite his now good mood, he was still very much sleep deprived and high strung. Thankfully the person, who he saw was Carol, had not attempted to grab him in any way. If she had, he probably would have broken her arm, or at the very least tried too.

“Hey Zeze!” Carol shouted, and he winced, both at the nickname and her shrill voice.

“Just Zemo, Mrs. West. And what can I do for you?” He asked, still perfectly polite. He would not allow himself to be anything but perfectly polite in any situation, public or otherwise.

“Well I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you after you declared having such a horrific headache!” She declared, following just a step behind him as he started to speed walk towards his home. Then realised if he led her to his house she would never stop showing up. He pulled out his phone and called Oeznik, ignoring Carol when she asked what he was doing.

“Oeznik, come pick me up. A lady won’t leave me alone. She is not a threat, but a nuisance.” He explained, talking in Sokovian as to not insult Carol in a language she could understand. Carol was quiet as he talked to Oeznik, who said he’d bring a car right away.

“Thank you, old friend.” Zemo replied and hung up. “My apologies Carol, it was a serious matter. My butler will be around shortly to pick me up, so I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this conversation short.” She blinked and he noticed how she seemed dazed when he mentioned his butler. Was she not as rich as he thought?

“Whatever.” Carol huffed insolently, and strutted away. Zemo let himself relax just a little bit, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He flinched when someone put a hand on his shoulder and reflexively defended himself. His vision was blurry and he was almost certain he was a minute away from passing out, but he could not allow himself to get caught off guard.

“Woah!” The person exclaimed, and Zemo blinked. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ve just been standing here awhile, I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Zemo stared at the person, it was James. He had just attacked James after staring at nothing like an insane person.

“M-My apologies.” He stuttered out, “I am just waiting for my ride. You startled me.” Zemo had no idea how to explain what was actually going on. How do you tell your son’s teacher that you haven't slept for more than a few hours a night for almost a month and were practically delirious with sleep deprivation, which had caused you to disassociate, and then when he touched your shoulder your brain thought he was a Nazi so it made you flip out? That's right. You don’t. “Mm. Well since we’re both already here, I wanted to talk to you about Carl?” Zemo froze, had something happened? “I read the note you sent with him and just wanted to let you know that the school has a counseling program that I am required to recommend.” James continued with a huff of laughter at the end.

“Well thank you, but I assure you and your requirements that Carl is already seeing a licensed therapist.” Zemo replied. Despite the rocky start to the conversation, just being around James made his heart and head happy.

“Are you?”

“Parodon?” Zemo asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Are you seeing a therapist?” James clarified. Zemo blinked in shock. No one had asked him that before. Well Oeznik had, but not again once Zemo had told him no. His entire world revolved around Carl and keeping him happy, so wasting time and resources on therapy for himself would be pointless.

“No.” Zemo answered, keeping it short and to the point. He was not, and it was not up for debate.

“I see.” James responded, pursuing his lips. “This may be out of line, but I don’t particularly care. Have you considered seeing a therapist? I think it might benefit your son if he saw that you were also actively taking measures to keep your mental health in a good place.” Zemo blinked, having to make an actual effort to keep the smile on his face.

“Well, thank you for your opinion. I will take it into consideration.” He wouldn’t but that doesn’t matter. It would keep James happy and Carl would stay happy, and he wouldn’t be happy but what does that matter? Keeping everyone else happy was key to staying in control.

“Right.” James sounded like he didn’t believe him, but Oeznik pulled up right after. Zemo held out his hand for a shake.

“It was nice conversing with you, Mr. Barnes. Please, do let me know if you have any more concerns regarding Carl.” Zemo said as James shook his hand.

“Of course, and just Bucky, please.”

Zemo nodded and ducked into the passenger seat of the car. Oeznik was in the driver's seat, and Carl was sitting in the back. As Carl started to excitedly tell him all about his day, Zemo allowed himself to drift into a semi-conscious state.

When they arrived back home, Oeznik started on dinner preparations and Zemo went over all of Carl’s school work with him, before sending him off to play in his room until dinner. After checking in on Carl, who was playing superheroes, he headed into his office. While everything regarding the legal side of his finances and immigrant status in the US was technically complete, he still had to manage his own finances and continue adding to Carl’s trust fund. There was always work to be done, especially when you were a baron. So while waiting for dinner, he worked on some paperwork. The mindless task felt numbing, in a good way. It was simple, but he did need to be present for it, meaning that his brain was flooded by words and numbers instead of thoughts of Sokovia and his wife. Oeznik called for both him and Carl, so he gracefully exited his office, intercepting Carl on the way down to tell him to go wash his hands. He waited for his son, before they walked down the stairs together and into the private dining room. They had a dining hall for guests and meetings, but also a family dining room for their everyday meals. Today Zemo quietly asked Oeznik to stay, which he did. They enjoyed a family dinner, and Zemo could feel his emotional state improving every minute he spent with his son.

After dinner was completed, Zemo ran a bath for Carl and kept an ear on him while finishing up some paperwork. Once Carl had finished Zemo helped him get dressed, brushed his hair and sent him to go brush his teeth. After Carl had done that, he tucked him in and quietly told him stories about Sokovia, speaking Sokovian of course. Carl quickly fell asleep and Zemo just watched him for a few minutes, soaking in every detail of his perfect son.

He took a long shower, letting the water wash away the pains of his day. He completed his extensive skin care routine and eventually found his way into bed. He stared up at his ceiling for a long time, just thinking.

It took quite some time, but he did manage to fall asleep, for a few hours at least. Carl slept through the whole night for once, but he didn't. He woke up only a few hours after he had initially fallen asleep and had been unsuccessful in his attempts to fall back asleep. He sighed, and headed into his office.

If he couldn’t sleep, then he might as well work.

Tagging @morganbritton132 (Who created this AU) and @i-ll-be-the-moon (Who is a supportive friend and likes my writing <3)

14 notes · View notes

chayacat · 4 years ago

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (31)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

The night was long... but she was beautiful. And torrid too. A night you will remember for a long time. His kisses along your body, his delicate but sensual gestures, the warmth of his body to make you melt with pleasure ... his voice that kept repeating that he loved you... Yes, you will remember that night eternally. The sun's rays lightly passed through the curtains of your room. You and Jed were still in bed, naked but covered to the waist, sticking to his back, a little smile on your lips. For nothing in the world, you wouldn't want to let him go. If he wakes up before you and tries to get up, he may find himself stuck by your little arms, like an oyster at his rock. The latter moved slightly, turning towards you, hugging you a little more.

The sun's rays came to Jed's eyes, who woke up with his hand on his face, waking you up at the same time. Even with his hair in battle, he remained beautiful. You on the other hand... a brush stroke would not be refusal. His eyes were lost in yours while his lips display his usual angelic smile. He put a little kiss on your lips before hugging you a little more against him.

“Well slept?” he simply asks of his slightly hoarse voice when he woke up.

“After the night I spent? I slept like a baby... I have never felt as alive as that night.” you respond, kissing him on the lips.

“Delighted to find out then... it means it's far from the last time. Very far even.” He replied, before looking at his phone. “Shit. I have to be at the newspaper in 30 minutes. I will be late.”

“Can't you tell them you'll be a little late for this time? You've always been a model employee... you may well be late at least once in your life.” you said, with begging eyes.

“I would love very much, believe me honey, but I can’t. I don’t want to say that I am an important part of the Gazette but I am the one who deals with the most important subjects... Unfortunately, I can’t afford that kind of thing. Even if sometimes, I want to.”

“Too bad. In the meantime, you don't go from here with an empty stomach. I'll give you a nice breakfast. Quick to do and quick to eat.”

He smiles at you, and each on your own, you rise to get dressed. You take advantage that he wasn’t looking at you to look at his little ass now covered by his jeans. Oh no... this is definitely not the last time you'll see him completely naked. Quite the contrary. Once both of them were dressed, you left the room, Jed headed to the bathroom while you went to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon and good coffee. Simple, but effective. Compared to Jed, you still have 2 good hours before going to work.

Jed walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, ready to go to work. And to say that you will soon live with him... When, you don't know it yet, Mr. Lawson must first make sure that everything is in conformity and do the necessary work. But knowing that you will live under the same roof with your love... it's a dream. He devoured his breakfast for no time, but still took his time to drink his coffee. It made you laugh to see his face looking at you, cheeks filled, like a hamster eating his seeds.

“I'm lucky... today I would not see Wilhelm's face. Even if sometimes I recognize that it's quite fun to piss him off or to see him thank me reluctantly.” he said with a smile.

“Jed! That’s not nice!” you answer with a laugh.

“What? I swear to you, if you had seen his face when he thanked me, it was like he was going to vomit. He doesn't like me so having to thank me... you understand that he must have it in his throat.”

“You're really evil. Another facet of you that I didn't know.”

“And that's nothing. I am not evil, let's say that when I am provoked or aggressed for no reason... I become a completely different person. I have to go. We will have to think about going to see the apartment from above before taking it. To see what work there will be to do. Even though Mr. Lawson has promised that he will do the work, I prefer that we take a look at what really needs to be done. There is no point in paying for what is not urgent.”

“Sure! Have a good day.” you replied with a lovely smile.

“Have a good day my love.” said Jed, kissing you before leaving.

You sigh, Jed and work... a real obsession. But nothing can really change him anyway. It would still be nice if he took a vacation from time to time... or at least a few days off. You finish lunch before leaving for the Nebula. On the road, you think back to the discussion you had with Amy and Corey about Roseville's festival. And they are right, why not create a gigantic cake in honor of the city? In addition to other pastries! This would be a good way to pay tribute to this small town while advertising your business! Two birds with one stone, as they say.

As you arrive at the café, you see that the police are there. But fortunately, it's not for you that they are there. Lindsey, the florist who helped you get started in your business, was crying on the steps of her store.

“Lindsey? Is everything going well? What's going on?” You ask, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh (Y/N) this horrible!!! Someone broke into my shop last night. He destroyed everything! years and years of work, ransacked in a single night! What am I going to do?” She responds by sniffing slightly.

“Damn...I’m sorry Lindsey. You...you want something to eat and drink? it would do you good.”

She nodded and followed you into the café. Amy and Corey had just finished cleaning the room as well as the back shop. Preparing two cups as well as two slices of pie that you had prepared the day before and that Amy had finished cooking when you arrived. You sit at Lindsey's table, handing her coffee and pie, Lindsey thanking you as she looks at her cup.

“Tell me what happened.” you simply said.

“Last night, I closed my shop a little earlier than expected, because I was doing my accounts. That's when I heard a group of little young people, completely drunk doing the idiots. I didn’t pay attention to them, after all they are young, they have the right to live. When I left the shop, they were... they were pissing in front of the storefront. I berated them and they ran away. But one of them told me something, unfortunately I didn’t hear well. And there, I arrive this morning in front of the shop and I see that the door has been forced and all the interior ransacked!!!” She responds with some tears in her eyes.

“You're sure they really did that? You know it may be a contest of circumstance. Don't you have an enemy or competitors who would like to see you shut down?”

“Of course not! I have always made sure to sort things out in a peaceful and diplomatic way! I am sure (Y /N), they are the ones who destroy everything. By the way, I heard one of them talking about that man on the news...Mr Hoggins. But I don’t know what he said.”

You nod and talk a little more with Lindsey before she leaves home, while the police finish inspecting the premises. Of course, they came to see you, in order to find out if you had seen or heard something, to which you replied that unfortunately you were already at home long before Lindsey closed her shop. The police left, greeting you and your employees. You sigh, if young offenders start attacking businesses in the neighbourhood, there is a good chance that one day, yours will become their target. But what worry you the most, was the fact that one of them talked about Hoggins. What kind of link can they have together? Deep down, you don’t really want to know.

You turn to Amy and Corey who were chatting on their side. Let's hope that the day someone has to come and ravage this place, neither of them is there. You would feel so guilty... just like for your parents. It's silly, but you can't help but play moms or big sisters with people. Even if you have known them recently. They are your little foals... it's normal to worry about them, right?

“Ok! I thought back to the conversation we had and I think it's a great idea that you both had! Alone, I would not be able to make such a large cake. It will be the same size as a wedding cake and unfortunately, I never made one. Do you think you are up to the task?” you ask with a smile.

“Of course! You can count on us! We will not disappoint you!” responds Corey, full of energy.

You agree on the taste, appearance, and decoration of the cake. It must be something grandiose, worthy of Roseville and its inhabitants! The mayor has placed his trust in you, we should not disappoint him. Then comes the time to open the Nebula. The first customers arrived quite quickly and took seats at the table. Some were regulars, others were new. There was even a small tourist couple staying in the small hotel of the city. How cute they are.

If the morning was rather quiet, the afternoon was quite busy. But something unexpected happened. While you were preparing another batch of Brownies, you see Hoggins at the counter, chatting with Amy. Why did he come here?? And besides, how did he know that you work here?? You never told him about yourself, even less about your business! At least, you don't remember telling him about it. Besides, you never really talk to him during his reception. Then you remember what Lindsey said to you. What if, in reality, you were the target of these offenders and not Lindsey? Maybe Hoggins hired them for that. Fear took you slightly to the stomach. When he sees you, he smiles at you warmly and you feel compelled to smile at him in return and go see him at the counter.

“Miss (Y/N)! What a surprise! I didn't think I'd see you here! Do you work in this café?” he said with a bright smile.

“In fact, I work and I am the boss of this Café Mr Hoggins. You must have heard about it...” you respond with a fake smile.

“Oh, I see, I see! Well, I didn't expect a bird of paradise like you to do a job too... simple. But who am I to judge your decision?”

“Well...thank you...How can I help you Mr Hoggins?”

“Nothing very particular, as I had heard from our very esteemed mayor that your café was going to take care of the cakes for the Roseville’s festival, I wanted to see the place by myself. You know, you always have to make sure that people are trustworthy. But as it’s about you... I am sure you will delight our fine palates.” Hoggins replied, gently kissing your hand. “By the way, congratulations for ... your relationship with Mr. Olsen. Even though I personally find that a jewel as you shouldn’t be in the hands of a... arrogant and a parasite like him.”

“At the risk of disappointing you, Mr Hoggins, I would rather belong a thousand times to an arrogant and a parasite, as you say, than to a man who believes that he is allowed everything, because he has fortune and power. All men think that it’s enough to have millions in their pockets to attract women. But we only want love. And money will never be able to buy that. As it will never be able to buy me.” you said suddenly removing your hand, shooting him with your eyes.

“I apologise if I offended you. I am not in a position to judge anything in your house. I'll leave you; I don't want to make you lose potential customer. Ladies, Sir. To the pleasure.”

After making sure he's off, you wash your hands quickly, to remove saliva from this dirty idiot. What a bastard, if he believes that it is by bending and showing his fortune that he will have you, he can go and put a broom in his ass. In addition, he dares to call Jed a parasite! HE is the parasite! You clenched your fist before sighing... better to drop it and focus on what matters most to you. The end of the day was rather quiet. the cool evening wind made you tremble slightly but it was nothing compared to what Hoggins had made you feel. And to say that he is trading with thugs...Amy and Corey were gone, only you still in the shop. At least it's what you thought. While you were taking care of your book of accounts, you feel a look on you. But you know who was there.

“I'm going to end up putting lasers to stop you from entering my café and my house one day...” you simply said, without turning your head.

“Tss, it would be a child’s game for me to pass. Remember that so far, I have never been caught. But I feel like you are... slightly tense.” said Ghostface, leaning against the door.

“Slightly?? This dirty asshole of Hoggins came to MY shop to make advances to me and he called MY boyfriend a parasite and arrogant, thinking I would be attracted by his charming comedy and his money! And you find that I am SLIGHTLY tense???”

“...This repulsive son of a bitch believes that he can have anything he wants by using his influence. It's a good thing that I'm killing him soon, isn't it?”

“Oh God yes! I want that bastard suffer! Whether he suffers more or just as much as his associate asshole!” you replied out of control before realizing what you just said. “F-Forget what I said.”

“Don't even think about it. I intend to remember that adorable angry face when I kill him. I knew you would crack. No one remains "pure" indefinitely. You know what? Let's make a deal. I kill Hoggins and in exchange, you spend an entire evening with me. You will do whatever I tell you.”

“I will not betray the trust that Jed...”

“Yeah, yeah I know, he’s your boyfriend bla bla bla... But it's not like you haven't already...do it. Even if for you I almost raped you... you didn't have that much of a struggle in the end.”

You clenched your fist. Nothing is holding you back from sticking a slap in his face. Except maybe his knife that he always holds in case you try an unfortunate gesture …

“Do you have any intention of killing him soon?” you ask, keeping your distances.

“After Roseville’s festival in two weeks. That will be the last thing he will experience.” He responds with a grin.

“If you kill him...and if you tell me who you are...I'll spend an evening with you. But after Hoggin’s death.”

“Ha ha ha...Smart girl. You don't lose sight of your goals.”

“As you said: if you fall, I fall too. But I have the right to know who I deal with. Unfortunately for me, we’re bond together in some kind of way.”

“Oh, I can promise you... that you will not be disappointed, but surprised.”

“So... Deal?” you replied, raising your hand toward him.

He looked at your hand for a few minutes, letting a silent of death fall. What if he changed his mind? And if he asked for something more... horrible? Your heart began to beat hard, fear taking you more and more when you saw that he wasn’t moving. Then he ends up by taking your hand and suddenly get you closer to him.

“Deal. Welcome to my world, my angel.”

***

(And it’s finished! Sunday, it will be Father’s Day! I would like to thank you all again for following me all this time, I know that DSS is quite long, but I really want to take my time to put things in place. I don't know how many chapters it will make in all, but I already know how it will end.

I remind you that this is my very first fanfic and that therefore I learn as I write. But I hope that you like it as much as I like it, and that you will like the next ones I would make just as much. Because yes, DSS will not be the last, I don’t know yet about who or what I would do the others but I think about it!

In addition, if you have any advice, or you know how to make a Masterlist, you can tell me about it in the ask box! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! And Happy Father’s Day for all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

13 notes · View notes

ohmypreciousgirl · 4 years ago

Text

Xicheng AU Rec List

This time I compiled my favorite AU fics for @waterandsilver! Hope everyone will enjoy this list too ♥

Just Two Lost Souls 46,978

Even if it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife, husband, or companion, all Jiang Cheng really wants is to run his company, take care of his pets, and maybe get some sleep. Unfortunately the new job promotion to CEO comes with a loaded social calendar and a need for some sort of companion.

So clearly the most sensible answer is to start dating the man he's had a crush on since he was a teenager.

Because nothing could go wrong there. Sequels: Hold Me Like You Want Me; I Am Yours, If You Are Mine; Jiang Cheng and the Lans; You Get a Torch and a Flame and Burn The Path You Want.

i don't really care how much silence kills me 15,611 [Part 1 of all the lights couldn't put out the dark] It’s been around 2 years since Jiang Cheng has last seen to his brother, and a little over a year since the last time he spoke to him, when they locked eyes at Nie Huaisang’s art exhibition. Jiang Cheng had only come because Huaisang had explicitly promised him he wouldn’t be here. He knows Wuxian and Wangji have just moved back into the area after traveling, and he has every intention of avoiding them at all costs, just like he avoids his college-era crush Lan Xichen.

But it would seem that the universe has other ideas.

charcoal on newsprint 2,151 [Part 1 of fine art] Xichen distantly realizes that there is no way Huaisang had actually told Jiang Cheng that this is a nude modeling session. He can already hear Jiang Cheng’s clear baritone, dripping with sarcasm, telling the entire dinner table “So, Zewu Jun wanted me naked in front of all his students.” at the next Lan-Jiang family dinner.Uncle is going to have his head.

Madam Yu is going to skewer him alive before that. Or, Jiang Cheng models for life drawing in his spare time.

Family 2,514 [Part 1 of The Lan-Jiang Family] Jiang Cheng stops dead in the doorway as he takes in the horrendous state the apartment is in; toys and clothes everywhere, new furniture, child-furniture, all over the place, and no matter where Jiang Cheng’s gaze drops, it’s been taking over by stuff that belongs to a child.

A child that is still screaming, almost drowning out Lan Xichen’s attempts to calm it down.

“What the actual fuck is happening here?” Jiang Cheng blurts out and while it does nothing to stop the child from screaming, Lan Xichen freezes.

Worthy of a god 1,859 [Part 1 of The most faithful] Jiang Cheng knows that there is a chance Chifeng-zun will choose him; he is the god of war and rage and ever since Jiang Cheng was old enough to scowl there had been talk at Lotus Pier, how well he would fit with that.

But Jiang Cheng also knows that there is a bigger chance of no god choosing him at all.

Not just a vacation [Part 1 of The best catch] The next night Lan Xichen goes back to the beach. He keeps out of sight at first, hoping to catch the man unawares first, his mind still reeling from the research he did during the day.

It’s probably not what Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji wanted for him when they sent him on this vacation, but Lan Xichen needs to know what’s going on here. The only thing his research turned up were tales of mermaid and Lan Xichen is not ready to believe that.

Until he catches sight of a rather huge tail, flapping out of the water.

What Happens in Vegas Comes Home to Taiwan 3,120 [Part 1 of What Happens in Vegas] What do you do when your brother is getting married to someone you can’t stand?

The answer probably shouldn’t be to marry his brother, but in Lan Xichen’s defense, he didn’t know Las Vegas would allow drunk people to tie the knot at three o’clock in the damn morning.

A Lionheart 19,916 Wherein Xichen is a Crown Prince and Jiang Cheng is his bodyguard.

Emergency Help Wanted 76,819 EMERGENCY HELP WANTED I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

how to not fall in love in a broken elevator 2,741 [Part 1 of a guide to falling in love (for runaways and heirs)] Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen get stuck in an elevator together.

Stream 4,494 He’s in love with Lan Xichen.

Jiang Cheng blinks once, twice and allows the feeling to fill him completely, at least once, before he ruthlessly squashes it down and locks it into the deepest parts of himself.

By the time Lan Xichen stops laughing and turns his attention back to Jiang Cheng, it’s as if nothing ever happened. Sequel: Umbrella - Savor

Jiang Cheng knows what he’s worth, after all, and it’s definitely not enough for the First Jade of Gusu.

How to get revenge on your brothers: A Guide by Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen 8,339 “That’s it. That’s the solution.”

Jiang Cheng opened an eye confused. “What do you mean?”

There was a weird light in Lan Xichen’s eyes and for a moment Jiang Cheng thought the other had gone crazy. “We will make them understand what it feels like seeing their brothers being… intimate with each other.”

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities 80,575 Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

do you eat pringles with or without the shell? 32,291 Wei Wuxian smiles at him, the bastard. “I’m proud of you for figuring this out. That means Xichen-ge is your gay awakening.”

“Don’t put it like that,” Jiang Cheng sighs but he isn’t wrong.

All This Could Be Yours 17,337 After transferring to the main branch of his family’s publishing business and into his newly-acquired responsibilities as its CEO and managing director, Lan Huan finds himself stressed and burnt out. His brother recommends a solution.

Jiang Cheng is too gay to deal with this shit.

how should i know what tomorrow will bring 1,630 “If they can’t accept the fact that Jin Ling will always be there, then they might as well fuck off.” Jiang Cheng points out.

“Well, sure.” Wei Wuxian concedes. “But you don’t even give them time to know if they want to be involved with you before you’re kicking them away. That’s not how first dates are supposed to go.”

“How would you know,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, annoyed that Wei Wuxian is right. This time. “You haven’t been on a date since like, 2002.”

Children's Secrets 5,225 Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen swap nephews for a weekend. Some revelations are made.

the Magical-Realism of Awkwardness 10,168 Jiang Cheng thinks things can't get worse when he is forced to third wheel Wei Wuxian and Lanzhan's date.

Then Lan Xichen shows up and proves that things damn well can.

(Or, what shapes up to be one of the worst days of Jiang Cheng's life takes an entirely different turn.)

in the incense is tangled a cool moon 3,614 Some loves aren't meant to be, Wanyin knows.

Pay me in love 2,770 Madame Yu watches Lan Xichen walk away, until he is out of earshot, before she turns towards Jiang Cheng.

“What are you paying him?” she wants to know and Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare dumbly at her.

“What?” he asks when she doesn’t say anything else.

“Did you really think I would believe you’re dating Lan Xichen, CEO of Lan Enterprises? Nice try, Jiang Cheng. Now tell me what you’re paying him.”

a slight tilt of perception 5,238 It was just a dance.

Jiang Cheng, trying to avoid the society matrons and their matchmaking-themed whispers, accepted a dance invitation from Lan Xichen, an old friend.

He forgot that his dance partner was probably the most eligible bachelor in the room.

He forgot that was all it could take: a moment, a look, hands intertwined in a dance—and everything could change.

Not at all fake 3,070 “Tomorrow,” Jiang Cheng gives back and then makes a noise as if he’s dying. “Fucking hell, I’m a dead man. If I show up tomorrow without anyone in tow—without someone in tow who can give Lan Wangji a run for his money—then I am dead.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Lan Xichen says “Take me.”

Jiang Cheng blinks a few times, processing the words, but even after a full minute they don’t make any sense.

For better, for worse 6,713 People forget marriage vows are more than pretty words. It's easy to honor them when it comes to good things but they're easily forgotten when it comes to darker times. Lan Huan, however, always keeps them in mind. To love someone like Jiang Cheng, who wears his emotions on his sleeve due his terrible parents, is to remember that love is not simple.

Glow 3,033 [Part 1 of Eldritch!Lans AU] Jiang Cheng carefully turns his head, maybe the absence of his boyfriend is what woke him up, but when he looks at Lan Xichen’s side, he’s met with something so dark it even stands out against the darkness of the night.

There’s a void next to him in bed and Jiang Cheng throws himself out of it, Zidian already crackling and sparking, illuminating the room in a faint purple.

White Lotus in Bloom 7,147 As the Crown Prince from Gusu Lan visiting YunMeng Jiang, Lan Huan was beyond excited to attend the region's famous Lotus Festival, where he meets a boy in purple and black.

Never Had I Ever 56,263 Nie Mingjue is almost certain that Jin Guangyao has an ulterior motive for dating his best friend, Lan Xichen. However despite voicing his concerns, his best friend seems unconvinced and Lan Xichen continues to date the said man. Unable to give up just yet, Nie Mingjue tries a different tactic--convincing his best friend the man is not the right person for him by setting him up. Fortunately for him, Wei Wuxian's youngest brother is very much single and seems to be just the kind of person his best friend needs. Can Jiang Cheng truly change Lan Xichen's mind, or will Nie Mingjue's plan is a disaster from the beginning?

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Comfort 1,838 Wei Wuxian always pisses him off, this is common between them. Some fights, however, make Jiang Cheng sad enough to lock himself away from people and Lan Xichen has taken on the role of always being there to comfort him.

midnight comforts 1,946 At 11:36 his phone buzzed next to his ear. Lan Huan had a strict sleeping routine, but even so he was a fairly light sleeper. He answered the call—no one he knew would call him this late without reason—and murmured a groggy greeting.

“Lan Huan?”

He sat up, already rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“A-Cheng?”

“I know it’s late,” he started, voice sounding odd through the phone, “but you,” he stopped again with a gasp. Now that he was more alert, Lan Huan realized with mounting horror that the hitch in his breath, the odd thickness, was from crying. “You said I could come over whenever,” he finished, voice much shakier.

To The Beat 1,859 [Part 1 of Fever]

"The bathroom is over there you fuc--"

His words caught in his throat as he saw the person on the other side. He looked a lot like Wei Ying's boyfriend, but he was smiling and his eyes were somehow kind; comparatively, the most expression he'd ever seen on Lan Zhan's face was mild disdain.

Jiang Cheng must have been staring dumbly for a while because the man cleared his throat. There was a blush rising on his cheeks, and oh fuck, that was kind of cute.

"I apologize for interrupting your night. I was told that this room was where the people who were 'no fun' were supposed to go," the man said. His voice was deep and somehow just as smooth as his skin, which was flawless.

It Took Me So Long To Find You 6,349 [Soulmate AU]

But it didn’t take him too long to realize that he was simply not worthy of the other.

So he hoped at least that they could become friends.

Lotus Pier burned down before Jiang Cheng could think of telling Lan XiChen. And after the Sunshot Campaign, he understood, being Lan XiChen’s soulmate would not just be a burden to the other, it would be a curse.

paint my skies with your skin 15,473 [Soulmate AU] “There’s no point in this, is there?” Jiang Cheng scoffs, “We both know I am not who you want your soulmate to be.”

“Soulmate or not, you have my heart and my ribbon. Only if you want it, Wanyin.”

once upon a dream 18,438 [Part 1 of once upon a dream] An au where your dreams are small snippets of your soulmate’s day. They’d show small things like buying coffee, reading a book, or hanging out with people from their perspective.

The problem was that people always have expectations and Jiang Cheng knows he always falls short of them. Time and time again.

#xicheng #lan xichen #jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #rec time

62 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years ago

Text

“Maze of Memories” - A Phobia Sequel

F/M Pairing: OC x Bang Chan

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Some violence, and mentions of drugs and alcohol.

Genre: Mafia AU; Sequel

Summary: Chan hated that his underground world of women, drugs, and alcohol threatened his family’s safety and well-being. But after yet another close call, he realizes that he finally needs to leave the Mafia world for good.

A/N: Hopefully, I tied up everything nicely with this AU!

Chan was paranoid, but he tried not to let it show too much.

Throughout the past few weeks, he had started to receive threatening letters in the mail concerning his wife and children. Under most circumstances, Chan would retaliate and have Jisung and Changbin find the culprit responsible, but he was unusually scared about this particular case. And maybe it was because he was protecting more than himself.

“You’re thinking about something,” his wife remarked, and he glanced at her while brushing his fingers through his hair.

It hadn’t been cut since the letters started arriving.

“Stressed,” Chan offered in return, and he turned onto his side so that he could rest his hand atop his wife’s stomach. “How are you feeling today?”

“Today was good,” she replied, and Chan was glad because the recent pregnancy symptoms had started to take their toll. Especially since their two-year-old daughter was still unable to grasp the idea that her parents might divide their attention with a future sibling.

“I have a meeting later,” Chan said, and his words were slightly slurred as he buried himself closer to the source of his wife’s sweet scent.

“Jisung told me earlier,” his wife said, and Chan had almost forgotten about Jisung’s impromptu visit that morning. But he was a regular mainstay in the house because he loved Chan’s daughter and he often spoiled her with gifts.

“Make sure the doors are locked when I’m gone,” Chan said, and he could sense his wife’s tension.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Chan said, and he kept a protective arm wrapped around his wife in an act of reassurance that he would follow through on since he had once made a promise to always keep them safe from harm.

It was late when Changbin and Jisung met him at one of the loudest clubs in the downtown area.

Chan was already annoyed by the pounding bass music which he could hear all the way from the street. But he was even more perturbed by the fact that he was hear at a club instead of next to his wife in bed. “It shouldn’t take long,” Jisung said as if he could read his thoughts.

“Who is this guy again?” Chan asked, following Changbin’s lead as he navigated their group through the treacherous dance floor and even further to the back of the club.

“He’s harmless,” Jisung said, snatching a flute of champagne from a passing waitress as the three friends sat together at their assigned section. “But he sells cheap booze.”

“Did you bring the contract?” Chan asked, and he rolled his eyes when Jisung plopped an expensive leather suitcase onto the table with a smirk.

“I’ve got everything covered, boss,” Jisung said with a teasing tone. “Mr. Kim should be here any moment.”

“Like you had everything covered last time with the case files?” Changbin chuckled, and Jisung shot him a glare, but any potential argument was broken upon the outlandish entrance of a man who looked like he had walked straight out of a Batman comic.

He wore an expensive suit, but the purple pants did no favors with the moss-green button-up that covered his torso. “Mr. Bang Chan,” Mr. Kim said when he was closer to their group. “It’s an honor to meet you.’

“Likewise,” Chan said, determined to skip the polite greetings.

“I can see you’re not a man who wastes time,” Mr. Kim remarked, and he sat down next to Jisung who already held the contract in his hand.

“Everything is ready for you to sign, Mr. Kim.”

“Slow down, gentleman,” Mr. Kim said, and he took a sip of his drink as he perused the complex verbiage of the contract. “I remember a time when your organization was notorious for spending weeks getting to know a client.”

“Time shouldn’t be wasted,” Changbin remarked, and he exchanged a quick look with Chan to let him know that he also sensed something unusual with this man.

“Oh, I quite like that,” Mr. Kim said, and he looked at Changbin thoughtfully. “Tell me, Mr. Seo, what are your plans for this contract?”

Changbin frowned. “Didn’t Jisung already explain everything?”

“But I want to make sure that we’re all on the same page,” Mr. Kim explained. “I would hate for there to be some discrepancies.”

“Like what?” Chan asked, and he usually knew better than to fall into such an obvious trap.

“Well,” Mr. Kim started, “For example, I heard a rumor that the three of you were planning to sell the Miroh organization off to someone else. Something about needing to settle down in the future.”

Chan bristled at the comment because that wasn’t supposed to be common knowledge. “Nothing has been decided.”

“I think I should know about it,” Mr. Kim continued. “After all, I like to understand my business partner’s motivations.”

“Our motivations are simple,” Chan growled. “We sign contracts with the clubs in the areas to help our own fortunes. We use these clubs to help our contacts when they need a place to meet.”

“Of course,” Mr. Kim agreed. “But if you sold the organization, then there’s no telling who might purchase it next!”

“We would research all possibilities,” Changbin contributed. “We’ve invested a lot of time and resources into its success.”

“Notably,” Mr. Kim said. “However, I can’t help but wonder-”

“You don’t have to sign,” Chan interrupted. “There’s nothing that we could do to stop you.”

“Oh, I’m signing Mr. Bang because I need the money,” Mr. Kim said. “But I’m advising you not to sell the organization.”

“You have no right to advise me about anything,” Chan sneered, and Mr. Kim shook his head like he was disappointed with the answer.

“I guess you leave me no choice,” Mr. Kim said, and he nodded to one of his men who immediately started walking towards the bar.

“What’s he doing?” Changbin asked, and there was a cold tension settling over the three men.

“Just making a call,” Mr. Kim replied. “I’ll probably pay the consequences tonight, Mr. Bang. But you’ll suffer even more.”

“What do you mean?” Chan growled, and he was reaching out for the collar of Mr. Kim’s suit jacket, holding him close so that he could see the amusement in his opponent’s gaze.

“You should get home to your wife and child,” Mr. Kim sneered. “Before it’s too late.”

But Chan didn’t need another reason to stand up from the table and end the meeting, giving Mr. Kim one last lingering glare before he left Changbin to deal with the messy clean-up.

Afterward, Jisung and Chan were speeding down the road, making phone calls to reach as many of their men as possible in the short distance that it would take to arrive at Chan’s house.

But the first thing Chan had done was contact his wofe:

“Sweetheart,” Chan had whispered into the phone when she answered the phone. “Take Ella and hide inside the secret room in the basement. Don’t say a word, and wait for me to give you the all-clear signal, do you understand?”

“Yes,” she had replied, but it broke Chan’s heart to hear the pain and fear in her tone, especially when he had also inadvertently listened to his daughter questioning why she had to leave her room so late at night.

“Are you good, man?” Jisung asked him when he hung up the phone, but Chan was anything but controlled. “Take it easy,” Jisung warned him. “We’re almost there.”

Chan knew that Jisung was right, and there was nothing else Chan could do until they reconvened together outside of his house. But it was still driving him mad, testing the limits of his patience.

“Countdown inside your head,” Chan whispered to himself, trying to keep a hold on his volatile emotions.

10.

“CHAN!” Jisung shouted, and Chan opened his eyes right before the impact with the other vehicle which sent them spiraling down the road.

“Shit!” Chan cursed, but he realized that the impact wasn’t meant to kill them - it was only a deterrence to prevent his arrival home.

Subsequently, he watched as Jisung took out his gun and aimed it at the men in the other vehicle, firing off three shots in rapid succession. “Felix and Minho are almost there,” Jisung said after the attack, and he evacuated the shattered remains of the car before coming around to help Chan out of the passenger’s seat. “Are you hurt?”

“Just sore,” Chan replied, stretching out his arms before reaching back for his own weapon. “Let’s run.”

Jisung nodded, and the two men cautiously made their way down the narrow road leading to Chan’s private estate. Even from a distance, he could see the lights on inside the bedrooms, and there were unfamiliar cars surrounding the building. It was enough to get his adrenaline racing, and Chan was resisting the instinct to run ahead and find his wife and daughter.

But the risk of blowing their cover was too great, and Chan forced himself to stay hidden behind Jisung as they walked onto the front porch. “Minho’s around back,” Jisung commented, narrowing his eyes as he listened to something coming in from his ear piece. “There’s two men in the kitchen.”

“Take care of them,” Chan said. “I’m going to the basement.”

Jisung agreed, and Chan reared back to kick down the door before he and Jisung were rushing inside the house.

“Hands up!” Jisung screamed when he parted from Chan at the staircase, and Chan could hear gunshots ringing in his ears as he kept moving his feet, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

There were no sounds coming from the bottom of the basement, and Chan tried to control his breathing as he knelt down to flip on a light switch. Immediately, there a shot from an opponent who was standing next to the backdoor, but Chan was low enough to dodge the attack before returning firing successfully.

And once the other man had collapsed to the floor, Chan wasn’t hesitant in the slightest to knock four times on the door to the secret room in a careful pattern that he had rehearsed with his wife and daughter. “Daddy!” he heard Ella screech just seconds before she was launching herself into his arms.

And he held her close with an impossible strength.

“Channie,” his wife added, wrapping her arms around her stomach as she left the room with tears rimming red circles around her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Chan whispered, and he opened his arms even wider for his wife, keeping his family close as they all cherished one another in the aftermath of an incident that could’ve been far worse.

It was enough for Chan to realize that he was done with the Mafia world, and he would sell the Miroh organization and do his best to distance himself from the drugs and alcohol. Instead, he would give his family a better life - one that they deserved where their safety would never be questioned, and where his daughter and future child could grow up without ever worrying about the need to look over their shoulders.

It had been his life for so long, but he was surprised at how easy it was to give up everything for the people who had completely and utterly captured his heart.

#stayracha #stayverse #skzwriternet #bang chan fanfic #chan fluff #chan angst #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #mostlycompetent #requested

100 notes · View notes

tillidontneedfantasy · 4 years ago

Text

A Track-by-Track Breakdown of Taylor Swift’s 8th Studio Album: ‘folklore’

Taylor Swift’s 8th studio album, folklore, starts off with the lie, “I’m on some new shit.” Perhaps to someone who hasn’t been paying attention this would seem to be true. But to those listening, folklore is the essence of her skill and success throughout her entire career stripped down for all to see, but more refined, enhanced, and impressive than ever.

Even prior to her pop-world domination with 1989 (2014), Taylor’s storytelling ability has always been her most compelling strength as a writer. In 2010, she released her third album, Speak Now, penned fully solo to prove to the cynics that she does, in fact, write her own music. And it’s damn good. Widely considered her best song, “All Too Well” from Red (2012) is a five and a half minute epic about love had and lost, all in walks through autumn trees, almost running red lights, dancing round the kitchen, and a scarf reminiscent of innocence, unreturned.

Yet her pop prowess over the last six years perhaps leads to her storytelling being overlooked to those more focused on the music. There is a particular genius in writing a successful pop song, let alone three successful pop albums, that still has hard-hitting lyrics underneath the synth. Take the excellent “Cruel Summer” from Lover (2019) for example. The song is just under 3 minutes, and the production is so enthralling and infectious that it can take such a hold on you, you might miss the tale being told along with it about a fraught summer relationship that was actually just the beginning of her own love story.

But without the pop production, her stories on folklore demand attention. Swept up by a strong wave of creativity and inspiration, Swift secretly wrote and produced this album in around three months with Aaron Dessner of The National, one of Swift’s favorite bands, and long-time collaborator and friend Jack Antonoff. A surprise album is a new endeavor for Swift, as she generally spends months meticulously planning an album rollout. It is refreshing, and as a dedicated, long-time fan of Taylor, it is thrilling. Due to the album cover where she is standing in the woods, and the genre of the album itself, there have been think pieces regarding the “man in the woods” trope and what it means that Taylor seems to be embodying it. As a result of over-exposure, people are unable to stop focusing on her image and the way she presents herself. It’s understandable, as she is a very smart and deliberate businesswoman, and clearly cares about how she is perceived. But with this album, it is clear that none of that was at play. We are in the middle of a pandemic. Her mother has been battling cancer for years. Isolate a creative person in a dangerous world and they will dream up an escape. She understands more than ever how precious each moment is, and does not want to waste another one. The woods being the landscape for the photo-shoot is most likely attributed to the fact that it is the safest place to have one under these circumstances. She’s not pretending she removed herself from society and became enlightened, she didn’t dabble into a more alternative sound to prove anything; she is just sharing stories she wants to tell that she is proud of, and nothing more.

Of course the music of the album is important, but the lyrics are the heart of it all, and I wanted to focus on them. Upon its release, Taylor explained in a foreword that the album was a mixture of personal and fictional accounts. The beauty of stories is that once they are shared, they never live one single life; each person who consumes a story interprets it uniquely, and the story becomes a multiverse, with different meanings and outcomes than what initially drove the pen to the paper. As explained by Swift in a YouTube comment prior to the album’s release, three songs on the album are all one story, which she has dubbed “the teenage love triangle.” The three points of the triangle are “cardigan,” “august,” and “betty.” But if someone had not seen her say that, they might not have figured it out. Maybe they’d interpret each song as their own story, and connect it to their own. Taylor knows this. It is why she loves storytelling and is why she is so good at it. The album itself is a mirror ball, shimmering with every version of the stories being told, reflecting a bit of each person who listens. These are my interpretations, but they can mean whatever you make of them.

1. the 1 The melody of this song helps set the scene; picture yourself skipping rocks on a lake, reminiscing on the one that got away. “the 1” is about learning to assimilate into a life without them, resentfully accepting that they might be moving on, too. She ruminates on what went wrong and what could have been. In a very Swift fashion, she puts the blame on herself when she sings, “in my defense, I have none / for digging up the grave another time.” Perhaps this song is fictional, perhaps it’s a revisit of a past feeling or relationship, but its relatability makes it feel real and present. She searches for explanations, restraining herself from asking, “if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?” But it’s good she didn’t ask, because she’d never find the answer, anyway. Best lyric: “We never painted by the numbers, baby, but we were making it count / You know the greatest loves of all time are over now.”

2. cardigan (teenage love triangle, part 1: betty’s perspective) “When you are young they assume you know nothing,” Swift sings in her smooth low-register on this Lana del Rey-esque single. “But I knew everything when I was young,” she asserts. They say wisdom comes with age, but there is wisdom lost, too, of what it felt like to be young; but she has held onto it. In this track, the narrator (Betty) is looking back on her relationship with someone she once loved (James, as name-dropped in “betty” later on in the album). Her insight on his character was always spot on; she knew he’d try to kiss it better, change the ending, miss her once the thrill expired and come back, begging for her forgiveness in her front porch light. As soon as she was feeling forgotten, he made her feel wanted, his favorite. The ending in question is unclear, whether she granted him her forgiveness or not. But what is clear is Taylor’s understanding of the pull of young love, the intensity, the immortalization of all the smallest of details, the longing to be someone’s favorite. It’s why we look back on it so often, read stories and watch films about it, even as we grow old. It’s the cardigan we put back on when we want to be Peter Pan and remember what it was like to fly with Wendy. Best lyric: “You drew stars around my scars / but now I’m bleeding.”

3. the last great american dynasty The story of Rebekah Harkness and her destruction of the last great American dynasty, Standard Oil, is documented in this track, as each verse covers a different part of Rebekah’s life, going from a middle class divorcee to one of the wealthiest women in America by marrying into an empire. Swift paints Rebekah as an outcast, the Rhode Island town blaming her for her husband’s heart giving out. Rebekah used her inherited fortune on her ballet company, throwing lavish parties with her friends who went by the “Bitch Pack,” playing cards with Dali (Yes, as in Salvador Dali. It’s not clear if they actually played cards together, but her ashes were placed in an urn designed by him), and feuding with her neighbors. Then, fifty years later, Taylor Swift bought that very house and ruined the neighborhood all over again, bringing with her the triumphant return of champagne pool parties and women with madness, their men and bad habits. It’s a note on how women will be blamed for tarnishing what is sacred to men rather than celebrated, specifically when its related to wealth and power. They will call them mad, shameless, loud. But just like Rebekah, Taylor learned to pay them no mind, and just have a marvelous time. It is also interesting to note that Rebekah went by Betty. Perhaps Taylor felt inspired by and connected to her and gave her a whole backstory, and thus the birth of “the teenage love triangle,” or maybe it’s just a coincidence; but that’s the fun of it all. Either way, this track is a standout showcase of how Swift has truly mastered her craft as a songwriter. Best lyric: “Holiday House sat quietly on that beach / free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / and then it was bought by me.”

4. exile ft. Bon Iver You know that feeling when your parents are fighting and it’s upsetting you but you can’t help but listen? That’s kind of what listening to this song feels like. Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon co-wrote the track, and he lends his gorgeous vocals to play a man who has been exiled by his ex who has moved on with someone else while he desperately tries to understand where it all went wrong. The bridge is particularly poignant, both proclaiming, “you didn’t even hear me out,” while talking over each other. He thinks he was expected to read her mind, but she is adamant that she gave him plenty of warning signs. Miscommunication is one of the most common downfalls of a relationship, and the emotion in Swift’s and Vernon’s voices really draws you into the argument with them, transporting you back into your own exile from people you once called home. Best lyric: “I couldn’t turn things around / (You never turned things around) / ‘cause you never gave a warning sign / (I gave so many signs.)”

5. my tears ricochet Taylor describes this song in the foreword as “an embittered tormentor showing up to the funeral of his fallen object of obsession.” If you know enough, you can put the pieces together that the tormentor is Scott Borchetta, the head of Big Machine Records, and the funeral is of their professional and personal relationship. Taylor was the first artist ever signed to Big Machine. Borchetta and Swift had to trust each other in their partnership for it to be a success, and oh, how it was. But prior to Lover’s release, Taylor announced that she would be signing to Republic Records as her contract with Big Machine had ended and Republic offered her the opportunity to own all of her masters moving forward and negotiate on Spotify shares for all their artists. It all could have ended amicably there, but then Scott Borchetta sold all of Big Machine, along with Taylor’s masters from every album prior, to Scooter Braun. Braun manages some of the biggest stars out there, and had previously managed Kanye West. Taylor publicly spoke out about this purchase, stating that she was not made aware of this before the announcement, and how much of a betrayal it was considering she had cried to Scott before about Scooter’s mistreatment of her. Taylor has continued to be vocal about this, and so she sings, “I didn’t have it in myself to go with grace.” There is a lot to unpack in this song, but the main takeaway is that this betrayal hurts him just as much if not more than it hurts her, because his career was built on her achievements. He buried her while decorated in her success, becoming what he swore he wouldn’t, erasing the good times for greed, all just to be haunted with regret for pushing her out and stealing her lullabies. The pain is palpable, and it is notable that this is song is placed at track 5, the spot generally reserved for the most vulnerable on the album; it shows that there are different types of heartbreak that can shatter you just as much as those from romance. Best lyric: “If I’m dead to you, why are you at the wake? / Cursing my name, wishing I stayed.”

6. mirrorball On Lover’s “The Archer,” Taylor expresses her anxiety over people seeing through her act, her own grief at seeing through it herself, wondering if her lover does and whether he would stay with her regardless. “mirrorball” is about the act, one of the more obviously confessional songs on the album. She talks about how a mirror ball can illuminate all the different versions of a person, while also reflecting the light to fit in with the scene. Taylor’s critical self-awareness is heart wrenching, and it’s clear that the anxiety that surrounds the public perception of her is still prevalent. She describes herself as a member of a circus, still on the tightrope and the trapeze even after everyone else has packed up and left, doing anything she can to keep the public’s attention. It hurts to hear the desperation in her voice, but there’s hope in the song, too. She is speaking to someone (we can assume her long-term boyfriend, Joe Alwyn) and thanking them for not being like “the regulars, the masquerade revelers drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten.” In 2016, the height of Taylor’s fame and subsequently her farthest fall from grace, all the people who pretended to be her friends and attended all her parties celebrated her (temporary) demise, continuing to dance over her broken pieces on the floor. But he stayed by her side as she put herself back together. And so now, when no one is around, she’ll shine just for him, standing even taller than she does for the circus. Best lyric: “I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why / I’ve never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I’m still on that trapeze, I’m still trying everything / to keep you looking at me.”

7. seven Her voice gentle and haunting, Taylor recalls the freedom and innocence of her childhood in Pennsylvania. She asks to be remembered for how she was, swinging over the creek, before she learned civility when she would scream anytime she wanted, then letting out a very pretty one. She sings to her old friend soothingly about taking them away from their haunted house that their father is always shouting in, where they feel the need to hide in a closet, perhaps literally, or figuratively, or both. They can move into Taylor’s house instead, or maybe just to India, just be sure to pack their dolls and a sweater and then they’ll hit the road. She can no longer recall her friend’s face, but the love she had for them still lives in her heart, and she wants it to live forever through story. Just in the way that folklore itself blends reality and fiction, but the truth within it passes on, so will the purity of that love and friendship. Best lyric: “Please picture me in the weeds / before I learned civility / I used to scream ferociously / any time I wanted.”

8. august (teenage love triangle, part 2: the other girl’s perspective) If you had to assign the feeling of longing to a song, it’d be “august.” It’s when you’re teetering at the edge with someone, unsure of where you stand with them, clinging to anything they give you and doing anything just to raise your chances, “living for the hope of it all.” August, the last month of summer, its heat causing it to slip away the fastest in a haze before reality hits. This track is a display of how sometimes losing something you never had causes an even deeper ache than losing something that was yours, and Jack Antonoff’s signature production intensifies the emotion even more. It’s the story of shattered hope, and the longing for the days where it could still fuel you. Best lyric: “To live for the hope of it all / cancel plans just in case you’d call.”

9. this is me trying “this is me trying” is like a drive through a tunnel at night, hearing your loudest anxieties and insecurities echo all around you, caving in. The track is another apt insight into Swift’s struggles with her self-image, with the pressure she puts on herself, so much so that she sometimes pushes herself too close to the edge, her fears luring her out of the tunnel and down, down, down into her own cage, stunting her own growth and keeping those who care out of reach. She tells us how she was “so ahead of the curve, the curve became a sphere.” Every action has an equal, opposite reaction, meaning that she was pushing herself so hard, she rolled back to where she started, and now has to reset. This could be referring to the period between the end of the 1989 era and the release of reputation (2017), or a different time in her life, or just a general sentiment. It doesn’t really matter, though, because no one’s growth is a neat, straight line; growth is jagged. Just like any of us, Taylor will always have to face new obstacles, new pitfalls, new reasons to get back up. She sounds most vulnerable as she cries, “at least I’m trying,” and you feel comforted knowing someone so beautiful and successful has to push herself to try, too, and yet that motivates you more to try yourself. Best lyric: “They told me all of my cages were mental / so I got wasted, like all my potential.”

10. illicit affairs A quiet, slow-build testament of the passion, the tragedy, the secrecy, the inimitability of a romance that shouldn’t exist, “illicit affairs” demonstrates how you can ruin yourself for someone from just one moment of possibility or truth, quite like the narrator of “august” does for the hope of it all. An illicit affair can be many different things: infidelity, forbidden love, a love that can never be fully realized, a relationship that is inherently wrong but electrifying all the same. It’s a reminder of what so many of us would do just to see new colors, to learn a new language, even if the one moment of enlightenment destroys us forever. We might lose the iridescent glow but we don’t forget it; we carry it with us, but must be careful to remember its blinding effect, to remember how fatal the fall is from the dwindling, mercurial high. Best lyric: “Tell your friends you’re out for a run / you’ll be flushed when you return.”

11. invisible string Clearly the most outright autobiographical track, “invisible string” is the plucky pick-me-up needed. The song is like sunshine, as Swift endearingly links all the little connections between her and her boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, since before they even met. She compares the green grass at the Nashville park she’d sit at in hopes of a meet-cute to the teal of his yogurt shop uniform shirt, and gives a nod to her smash hit “Bad Blood” from 1989 with the delightful line “bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to LA.” She reasons these coincidences as a fateful, invisible, golden string tying them together since the beginning, always destined to meet at the knot in the middle. She thanks time for healing her, (a callback to “Fifteen” from Fearless [2008]), fighting through hell to make it to heaven, transforming her from an axe grinder to a gift giver for her ex’s baby (the ex in question, Joe Jonas, and his wife Sophie Turner, happened to have their first daughter two days before this album’s release). As she has on her previous two albums, she uses the color gold to illustrate how prized their love is to one another. It’s sweet to know in all the gloom that the string has not been severed, and the trees are still golden somewhere. Best lyric: “Cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart / now I send their babies presents.”

12. mad woman Throughout her entire career, Taylor Swift has defiantly defended female rage, all the way back from throwing a chair off a platform on her Fearless Tour during the impassioned “Forever & Always,” to her patient, vengeful reliance on karma in reputation’s lead single, “Look What You Made Me Do,” to her most recent tackling of the matter on Lover’s last and final single, “The Man,” where she explores society’s acceptance and encouragement of angry men yet disdain for angry women. “The Man” is catchy and upbeat, and a fun thought experiment into how Swift’s career would be perceived if she was a man, something that is even more interesting to think about now as she releases an album in a genre heavily dominated and lauded by males. But on “mad woman,” she further explores the creation and perception of female rage, though masked under a smooth, haunting piano melody, her vocals subdued, taunting. In the album foreword, she describes the inspiration behind this song as “a misfit widow getting gleeful revenge on the town that cast her out.” This could be the continuation of Rebekah “Betty” Harkness’s story at her Holiday House in Watch Hill, RI, and how she further alienated herself from the rest of the neighborhood as they cast stones at her for the collapse of the last great American dynasty. (Or perhaps Daenerys Targaryen’s descent as the Mad Queen played a part in the song’s inspiration, as Swift has spoken of her love for Game of Thrones and her character specifically.) Taylor herself could also represent the widow, her music and masters as her love lost, and the men behind the crime as the “town that cast her out.” In the first verse she sings, “What do you sing on your drive home? / Do you see my face in the neighbor’s lawn? / Does she smile, or does she mouth ‘fuck you forever’?” It’s the first f-bomb of Taylor’s career (though a much more playful one will come two tracks later in “betty”) and it speaks volume. Taylor has received a lot of condemnation for expressing her anger at their transaction, for calling out their greed for what it is. Some view Swift’s stance on the ordeal as petty and trivial; they see the men as orchestrating a good business deal, and Swift as the girl throwing a tantrum. Ask any woman, and they can tell you about a time a man told them they were crazy for being justifiably angry; it only makes us angrier. “No one likes a mad woman,” Taylor states, “You made her like that.” Swift underscores that here, how they will poke and poke the bear but then blame it for attacking, as if they had never provoked it at all, and how dare it defend itself. Just as they blamed Rebekah for her husband’s heart giving out, they somehow manage to blame Swift for not being allowed to purchase the rights to her own work. And yes, she’s mad, but the song is measured and controlled; she’s used to her anger now, and knows just how to wield it. Best lyric: “Women like hunting witches, too / doing your dirtiest work for you / It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.”

13. epiphany This is another track Swift provided some background on, stating it was inspired by her “grandfather, Dean, landing at Guadalcanal in 1942” during WWII. The first verse paints this image, while the second verse depicts a different kind of war, happening right now, fought by doctors and nurses. She speaks of holding hands through plastic, and the escape folklore has granted you suddenly lifts. Watching someone’s daughter, or mother, or anyone suffer at the hands of the COVID-19 pandemic, just as watching a soldier bleed out, helpless, is too much to speak about. As she points out, they don’t teach you about that vicarious trauma in med school. We are living in a tireless world with barely any time time to rest our eyes, but too much going on while we’re awake to make sense of any of it. “epiphany” is a cinematic prayer, pleading for some quiet in order to find an answer in all the noise. We’re still waiting for that glimpse of relief. Best lyric: “Only twenty minutes to sleep / but you dream of some epiphany / Just one single glimpse of relief / to make some sense of what you’ve seen.”

14. betty (teenage love triangle, part 3: james’s perspective) It makes sense that a song reminiscent of Fearless would exemplify some of the best story-telling on folklore. The final puzzle piece of the teen love triangle, “betty” is a song sung by Swift from the perspective of the character of her own creation, James, attempting to win back his true love, Betty, who he slighted in some way. He proclaims that the worst thing he ever did is what he did to her, without explicitly stating it. Though the infamous deed is unclear, here’s the information we collect from this song: James saw Betty dancing with another boy at a school dance, one day when he was walking home another girl (from “august”) picked him up and he ended up spending his summer with her yet still loved Betty, and though he ended things with his fling and wanted to reconcile with Betty, he had returned to school to see she switched her homeroom (James assumes, after saying he won’t make assumptions. Classic men). So in order to make it up to her, he shows up at her party with the risk of being told to go fuck himself (the second and charming “fuck” on the album! Which is repeated!). Upon his arrival, there is a glorious key change (ala “Love Story”) and all the pieces fall into place for the listener; we realize Betty is the girl singing in “cardigan” as he lists the things he misses about her since the thrill expired, like the way she looks standing in her cardigan, and kissing in his car. He’s 17 and doesn’t know anything, but she knew everything when she was young, and she knew he’d come back. The way I see their story conclude is that she led him to the garden and trusted him, but as they grew older they grew apart, but the love she had for him never faded completely. Listening to this song is like being back in high school, whether you were the person who did someone wrong or the person so willing to forgive in the name of young love, or Inez, the school gossip, you’re right there with them. The other great thing about this song is that it is sung to a girl, and though it is set up so we understand it is most likely from a boy’s perspective, it doesn’t have to be. It’s really great that girls in the LGBTQ community can have a song in Taylor’s voice to fully connect to without changing the pronouns or names (even James, which is unisex and is one of the names of the daughters of Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds, Taylor’s close friends, mentioned in this song). That is the beauty of folklore: the infinite ways a story can be told, perceived, retold from a different perspective, and told again. Maybe you’ll hear it from Inez. Best lyric: “But if I just showed up at your party / would you have me? Would you want me? / Would you tell me to go fuck myself, or lead me to the garden?”

15. peace One of the most beautifully solemn songs of her career, “peace” echoes the same fears explored in “Dancing With Our Hands Tied” from reputation; will the person she loves be able to weather the ever-present storm that comes with the life of a superstar, but also dwells within herself? Will holding him as the water rushes in be enough? Will giving him her wild, a child, her sunshine, her best, be a fair consolation? Presumably another confessional track and about Alwyn, Swift puts him up on a pedestal, praising his integrity and his dare to dream. She proclaims that she would die for him in secret, just as she told him she’d be on her tallest tip toes, spinning in her highest heels, shining just for him in “mirrorball.” She highlights some of the greatest gifts of love, such as comfortable silence and chosen family. She knows what they have is special, but she also knows the value of peace, the ultimate nirvana, and does not want to deprive him of that. It is so deeply relatable- to me, at least- to feel like you can give someone so much of yourself but know it still may never be enough, and to fear either losing them or robbing them of something better. But looking at what they have together, maybe peace is overrated. Or maybe, she’s looking for peace in the wrong places. The calm is in the eye of the storm, and sometimes, there’s nothing more freeing than throwing away the umbrella and soaking in the rain. Best lyric: “I never had the courage of my convictions / as long as danger is near / and it’s just around the corner, darling / ‘cause it lives in me / no, I could never give you peace.”

16. hoax The truest enigma of the album, the closer, “hoax” is a devastatingly dark ballad about the uncertainty, or perhaps incredulity, of someone’s love for you, a love that is your lifeline. The lyrics are ambiguous, which gives way to a plethora of interpretations. Perhaps she is speaking about a hypothetical situation that has yet to happen (and hopefully doesn’t) in which someone she loves and trusts betrays her. Maybe she is talking about a relationship, real (hopefully not) or fictional, in which despite the torment it brings her she holds onto it for dear life. I’m most inclined to believe that the song represents her difficulty in accepting that someone is willing to love her through such dark periods, that their love must actually be a hoax, but she chooses to believe in it anyway and uses it as the motivation to rebuild her kingdom, to rise from the ashes on her barren land. And even through the downs that come at some point in every relationship, she can still see the beauty in it all. Yes, their love is golden, but waves of blue will crash down around any partnership, because life does not exist without them. So even when things are as blue as can be, she’s at least grateful it’s with him. Best lyric: “Don’t want no other shade of blue but you / no other sadness in the world would do.”

Although we still have yet to hear the deluxe track, “the lakes,” as a fan of Taylor for almost 12 years, it feels so obvious that this is her strongest work yet. The storytelling I fell in love with on Fearless as a teenager (which, much like folklore, was highly inspired by imaginary situations and real emotions) is even sharper now as we have both grown into adults. The music on this album might not be everyone’s speed, and that’s okay. But it allowed Taylor to dip back into what made Fearless such a success: using pieces of her own truth and the whims of her imagination to develop a multi-faceted narrative that becomes universal. During her Tiny Desk concert, before performing “Death By A Thousand Cuts” from Lover, Swift explained the anxiety she felt around the possibility of stunted creativity when people would ask her what she would write about once she was happy. Taylor has released an abundance of beautiful, fun, complex love songs since the start of her relationship almost four years ago now. But “Death By A Thousand Cuts,” which is a fan favorite, helped her prove to herself that she can still write a killer breakup song while being in a happy, fulfilling relationship; the song was the last track written for Lover and was inspired by the film Something Great on Netflix. And so it makes perfect sense that Taylor used folklore to continue exploring this new avenue for songwriting. All of her discography and all of her life experiences have culminated to the folklore moment: as all the best artists do, she will never stop finding inspiration in hidden corners of this dark, mystical, wondrous universe, and falling in love with new ways to share those wonders. And that love will be passed on.

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: I love Taylor Swift more than any person in my life, yes including my parents, they are aware and have accepted this fact long ago ❤️

149 notes · View notes

poptod · 4 years ago

Note

hello! can i request something romantic with either ahk or snafu or really any rami character where y/n has round dark brown doe eyes? like so dark brown they look black if you’re not looking at them in sunlight? and he’s just flirting with them and he says something nice about their eyes? i have round dark brown eyes and i’m kinda insecure about them cuz they’re so common, and it’s been one shit-show if a week for me and i really just need to feel good about myself

notes: damn, i can totally do that for you. hope your weekend is much better than your week :) thank u for requesting and i hope you enjoy it !

WC: 2k

Life never worked naturally to your advantage. You were born average looking – nothing special on either side of the spectrum, with average hands and common dark brown eyes. You grew up poor and worked your ass off to get into a good college on a scholarship, eventually getting kicked out for something you didn't even do. You auditioned to be part of an orchestra, but there were too many violinists already, and you just 'didn't fit the profile'. You tried to be an artist, but no one liked your creations. You tried to pick up another instrument, but you couldn't afford a good one, and the last time you tried to buy a cheap guitar, the neck broke on the third use.

Because of these many happenstances (and the many more, less mentionable ones), you considered yourself unlucky. It was a fact of life for you as much as the sun's existence in other peoples lives, or that the superbowl was too long. Or guacamole wasn't good. Fortunately, the years of nothing ever coming naturally had made you into a fantastic worker, and by some rare stroke of luck, you found you were rather good at physical labor jobs. You weren't strong by any standards – in fact rather weak – but your attention to detail made you the janitor of a prestigious museum you visited twice as a child.

It wasn't a fantastic job, and the poor pay led to having five roommates, but you enjoyed yourself. You tried to do that in every aspect of life; finding the joy in menial tasks, or solace in duty. After all, you got to see wonderful recreations of history in the still wax figures, and learn heaps of knowledge from the many information panels you came across when making your way through the museum. The only truly unfortunate part of your job was the time – right after closing, but you had to finish quickly, as you weren't allowed inside at night. A stupid rule, but the night guard and Dr. McPhee were insistent on it.

They thought you didn't know about the exhibits.

They were, obviously, wrong. You knew, and you adored the magic behind it all. While you hadn't actually ever seen any of the exhibits come to life, you watched the news on an evening where the exhibits broke out, and with your knowledge of the Tablet curse, you pieced the mystery together.

You hadn't meant to take this long. McPhee was already pissed at you for 'accidentally' skipping over the men's restroom yesterday, and taking too long at your job would land you on thin ice, something you couldn't afford. With a hurried pace you finished sweeping the floors in the last room, storing the broom away and moving on to mopping. Checking your watch once more, you noted the time, mentally checking if you would be able to finish before closing hours.

Mopping the Egyptian room usually takes five to ten minutes, and closing is in two, you thought, despair settling in your stomach. What would you do if you 'found out' about the tablet? What would McPhee do if he found out you knew? He wouldn't fire you, would he?

You truly didn't know. He was a bit of a loose cannon when it came to those things.

As fast as you tried to move, the hours of night came faster than you could mop, and the tablet began to glow behind you. Bewildered you turned, watching with your mouth slightly parted as the glow grew to the radiance of the sun. You knew the tablet brought the magic, but you didn't know about the glow – now that you were witnessing it yourself, the only thing you could feel in your pounding heart was fear. A fear that only grew worse when the Pharaoh's sarcophagus began to rattle.

You'd thought about the wax figures coming to life. You thought about the dinosaur. You, however, did not think about the 4,000 year old mummy.

Needless to say, you bolted. Leaving behind your supplies, you ran as fast as you could, wind pounding past your ears as the sound of a lion's roar came from the neighboring hall. You grit your teeth and made for the main entrance, but by the time you got there many of the exhibits had adjoined in the main room. Pressing yourself against the locked door, you watched with wide eyes as the Teddy Roosevelt statue began to talk to Attila, and in that moment you realized that perhaps magic was not always good. Not when you were spiralling into a panic at least.

It took a couple hours of you staring into space before anyone actually noticed you. To your surprise, it wasn't the night guard, or even McPhee – it was a Pharaoh, skin and everything intact. His crown remained polished upon his head, a stark difference from the crowns on exhibit, whose colors and carvings had faded long ago.

"Hello," he said with a pleasant, polite smile as he knelt, matching the height of your seated position on the floor. "Are you a new exhibit?"

You looked down at your clothes. Janitor clothes.

"No," you said, and instantly his demeanor changed.

"Oh dear," he said, and though you agreed with that statement, you certainly did not agree with him grabbing your wrist and dragging you into the crowd.

"I don't really want to be doing this," you said in a shaky voice, but he did not answer.

As he dragged you through the crowd you kept your eyes closed, wary of overstimulation of both ears and eyes. He eventually stopped at the top of the stairs, where you opened your eyes to find the night guard, Larry.

"What are you still doing here?" Larry asked almost frantically, looking between the dancers below and you.

"In my defense I didn't want to be here, I knew about the magic and I don't – I didn't ever want to actually see it," you half-lied.

"How the hell did you know?!"

"You don't do a very good job of covering it up, Larry," you said flatly, your voice still cracking from nerves.

You didn't have very many friends. Your roommates didn't talk to you much, and the life you had outside of work consisted mostly of quiet, indoor hobbies you could do just about anywhere. So, once the whole of the situation was sorted out (with input from McPhee), you took your drawing pads and notebooks to the museum with you, working for the first few hours and drawing into the hours of night while watching history come to life.

Despite your original discomfort of being in the presence of a 100% authentic, come-to-life mummy, you became rather good friends with him. Not fantastic, and he didn't know very much about you, but he was kind and handsome. You hated to admit it, but he held your avid interest. Another one of those unlucky things in your life – of course you had to fall in love with an immortal, reanimated mummy who only came to life at night.

"Why don't you ever come dance with us?" Ahkmenrah (his name, apparently) said as he sat down beside you on the loft, the only barrier between you and a fifteen-foot fall being a stone rail.

"I'm afraid I'm not all that good of a dancer," you said, not bothering to look up from your sketchbook. You couldn't ever bear to look at him that long anyway.

"Neither am I," he laughed. "That's the point."

Instinctively you looked up at him, holding eye contact with his grey eyes for only a second before you looked away, a blush already making its way to your cheeks. He had the opposite of your life – lucky beyond belief. The favorite of his parents, completely immortal, completely beautiful, almost too wealthy, and many, many friends, including yourself.

What got you the most however was his eyes. Cold eyes were already praised in modern society – people loved grey, they loved blue and green. But in Ahkmenrah's society, the one that existed thousands of years ago, blue eyes hardly existed. The mutation for the new color was one in a billion back then, making him one of the (probably) three people on the planet with blue eyes. And now that lucky mutation stood before you in its purest, oldest form, and you couldn't bear to look at them for any longer than a solitary moment.

For some reason, it hurt you. Maybe because you were boring. Dull. Brown in a brown society. Sure, they looked beautiful in sunlight – you knew that. They turned into swirling gold and the taste of chocolate, but Ahk couldn't see them in the sunlight. That made you dull.

Now, Ahkmenrah was not a man to point things out about people. If they were being a dickhead, yes, but most of the time he noted things and dismissed them. But you'd been doing this for so long that he grew weary of the dance.

"Why don't you ever look at me?" He asked, a question that had your eyes widening and your back straightening, alarm bells ringing all over your brain.

"I look at you plenty," you said while avoiding his gaze like a 15th century doctor avoids respecting women.

"No, you don't," he said softly. "Not even now. I wish you would – you've got such beautiful eyes."

Your sketching stopped at his words. At your silence he placed his hand on your jaw, tilting so you looked at him. Instead of meeting his gaze you looked to the floor.

"They're very common," you got out weakly, still unable to make eye contact, but he kept you where you were, in the easy sight of him. "They only look good in the sun."

He shifted closer, keeping his hand on your jaw in hopes of you changing your mind and meeting his eye.

"Even in darkness they're beautiful, voids as empty and long as night," he hummed, drawing closer yet till you could feel the heat off his body on your still fingers. "I've noted them quite a lot. Eyes are a beautiful thing, aren't they?"

"Yours are," you mumbled, barely catching the meaning and insinuation of your words before they came out.

"As are yours. Remember when we snuck into McPhee's office? The lamplight bounced off of them and they practically glittered like the embers and smoke of a fire," he said with a small smile. "And the bright lights in the hallways –"

Florescent, you thought.

"– and the candle lights that Nick brought, those flicker with that same spark within you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

You couldn't move, stuck in place and stuck in your own head.

"The golden fireplace, Christmas lights – and the light of the moon, a dim, faraway light that can only be admired from a distance... like you," he murmured.

Sometimes you forgot his people were poets and admirers of nature.

"You have blue eyes," you whispered through the knot in your throat. He listened carefully. "And... I can see reflections in them. They're soft, like velvet. Despite everything, they.. you seem... happy. You always seem happy, and your eyes give it away."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" He asked quietly, and in that moment you realized his nose was almost touching yours.

"No," you answered honestly. Another unlucky aspect of you.

"Neither have I," he said before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace you weren't at all expecting.

From both the view of the first kiss and of a Pharaoh's kiss, you weren't prepared, but the plush of his pink lips against yours sent sparks of delight into your heart. He moved slow, taking his time to map out your aspects just as you began to trail your hands over his open palm, memorizing the creases. You were reluctant to part, but he ran his hand through your hair and your brain short-circuited into placitude.

"You have the softest lips," he murmured, hand coming to cup your cheek once more.

You never applied aquaphor or did anything to make your lips soft.

Maybe it was luck.

Didn't really matter to you, because he kissed you again, and your eyes fluttered shut as everything in the world but him faded away.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #rami malek character

85 notes · View notes