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madara-fate · 2 years ago

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Why do they always think Hinata is the best option for team seven/ why Hinata should never be in team seven.

First of all, they did this just to downgrade Sakura.

Second, all of their personalities don’t match. Naruto being the goofy and cheerful one, Sasuke being that “don’t talk to me” type of guy and Hinata being shy and introverted. I don’t see hinata bonding well with Sasuke, nor kakashi (a little bit I guess) if she was in team seven, I think she will only focus on Naruto and basically leave Sasuke a side.

Third, they think it will boost the power level of team seven. If we put the canon piece here, Hinata being lower than Sakura by a million the power level in this so called team will gradually be lower.

Fourth, Team work. Like I said, I don’t see them bonding really well, I really doubt they’ll be having team work.

Lastly, I DONT LIKE THE COLOR PALET, LIKE BLONDE, DARK HAIR, DARK HAIR??? EWWWW

ORIGINAL TEAM SEVEN FOR DA WIIIIIIN!! MUCH MORE ICONIC HELL YEAH!!

With regards to Hinata potentially only focusing on Naruto and ignoring Sasuke, I don't think that would happen. People could have easily said the same thing about Sakura towards Sasuke due to her early shallow fixation on him, but look at what happened - Sakura and Naruto formed a close bond and friendship of their own. I'm fairly certain that the same thing would have happened with Hinata and Sasuke had the former been on Team 7 instead.

That being said, it was explained why Sakura was placed on a team with Naruto and Sasuke - It was because that made the most sense considering who her other two teammates were:

Naruto, who was the worst student in the class, would benefit from Sakura’s academic intelligence and Sasuke’s proficiency with ninjutsu. Sakura would benefit from her more battle-capable teammates, and Sasuke, who was at the top of the class, would benefit from being forced to work well with others.

Now, there are only two certainties I can think of that would occur had Hinata been placed on Team 7 instead of Sakura:

She would have been more attentive to Naruto towards the beginning, similarly to how Sakura was initially more attentive to Sasuke. I can’t be certain of any significant short or long term affects this may have had, but this would have likely changed certain things. For instance, a large part of Sakura’s incentive for stopping Sasuke’s Curse Seal induced rampage in the Forest of Death were her feelings for him, Hinata may have not done the same in a similar situation. Also, because Sakura paid particular attention to Sasuke, she was able to notice his darkness before anyone else, and confront him the night that he defected from the village. In terms of significant changes to the plot, this probably isn’t a very significant detail, but it’s worth mentioning because the events of chapter 181 were obviously pivotal in Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship. But on the other hand, you have details like Sakura protecting Sasuke with her life from Gaara. A large part of the reason she had no hesitation in doing so, was because she truly loved Sasuke by that point, and that ultimately saved Sasuke's life because Gaara was going for the kill there. Would Hinata have done the same thing despite how she would've had no special feelings for Sasuke beyond camaraderie? It's debatable.

The infamous parallel to the Sannin would have never happened:

Because Hinata is not a parallel of Tsunade. She has a completely different personality and her own style of fighting, her chakra control is likely not at a high enough level to use the chakra enhanced strength, and is definitely nowhere near the level required for the Byakugou Seal. Those are all of the absolute certainties that I can currently think of, but I see no reason why Hinata would’ve been a “better” fit for Team 7 than Sakura. The teams are fine as they are.

#Sakura Haruno #Hinata Hyuuga #Sasuke Uchiha #Team 7

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bubblelixie · 4 years ago

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[5:55]

the warmth of the morning sun glowing through your window set off a nice tone for the day as it usually would. you sat up from your resting position in the now messy bedsheets, you turned around do see your sleeping boyfriend felix with his freckles on display as his pink lips were slightly parted, god he just looked so beautiful, placing a kiss on his forehead you slipped out of bed to go get ready for your day that you’d be spending with your boyfriend. just as you were about to stand up, felix intertwined his hand with yours and used his other hand to wrap around your waist and pull you into a cuddle against him. he attacked you with kisses, so you turned around to fire them right back at him. the two of you were giggling messes and although others may hove forund it cringey, it didnt matter to both of you because you were just so in love with each other.

“we’re you going to do your makeup?” the freckled boy asked you with a pout, you nodded in response.

“c-can you do mine too?” you smiled so brightly at his words, just when you thought you were in love with him, you really could not get enough. the two of you sat up moving to your vanity where you sat on the long bench that matched perfectly with the mirrored table. you picked up a shade that would match felix since you had prepared from this moment before, you turned to him but he grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“mm you do yours first i wanna watch you”

and so you did your makeup how you normally would, once finished you picked back up his shade and turned to face him again.

“ready lixie” he nodded at your words and you kissed him.

you were careful not to get any base makeup on his freckles so you stuck to only putting it around his eyes since his skin had no imperfections and base makeup really was not needed. you grabbed various eyeshadow pallets that had many colors. his eyes widened not knowing what to pick. felix ended uppicking a palet with many beautiful warm tones. you asked him to pick out at least three colors. you grabbed an eyeshadow brush and began to do your work being careful to not get anything in his eyes.

you picked up a hand mirror to show him your work so far but he stopped you.

“surprise me honey”

his morning voice was something you would never get used to, it sent shivers down your spine and it was so addicting.

“do you want eyeliner”

he nodded and you gave him a beautiful but subtle winged look on his eyes, finishing things off by applying a lightly pink tinted lipgloss, and putting blush across his face which perfectly displayed his beautiful freckles.

“done, you look so pretty baby” you motioned for him to look into the vanity’s mirror and when he did his jaw dropped.

“i love it baby,thank you, do you really think i look pretty”

his eyes seemed watery as if he were about to cry, he looked so beautiful like this, the sun hitting him in the perfect angle, you wish you could stay here forever.

“so very pretty baby”

you reassured him once more finishing off with a kiss. he picked up a fluffy brush and swirled it around in the pink blush powder and applied it to you face causing the both of you to giggle again.

“please teach me how to do makeup sometime love”

and of course that was a new thing you and felix loved to do, each other’s makeup

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liliesoftherain · 5 years ago

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YouTube Challenge!

Request: Ok so I’ve been watching a lot of youtube couples (not the cringey ones lol) and I reallyyy wanted a head canon for maybe bakugou, shoto, and kiri with a s/o who is a youtuber, and they shoot a couple video like those “my boyfriend rates my outfits” or “chapstick challenge” videos. Could the prompts (42)“(58)(18) Also boys to be pro heroes already...if that’s ok.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this hun, @pletopliito and also as each one is written it gets shorter and shorter lol IM SO SORRY

Prompts: 18. “Have you lost your damn mind?” 43. “Why don’t you kiss me already?” 58. “Are you flirting with me?”

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader, Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Katsuki Bakugou!:

“Hey guys, QueenExplosion here! And I have a surprise! Drumroll… It’s King Explosion, as a guest!”

You excitedly pulled your boyfriend into the chair next to you, laughing as he grumbled about the name.

“Right, right! Sorry Mr. Pro Hero, I meant Ground Zero is joining me today!”

“Against my will, might I add.”

You smacked his arm without looking for the snide comment,

But knowing your boyfriend,

This video was bound to be full of them

“Alright, so today I look a little bare don’t I? That’s because this hunk is going to be doing my makeup.”

“Get ready to look like shit.”

“ANYWAAAAYS, let’s just jump right in, yeah? So I have all my makeup set out on the desk here, I’m not telling him what does what-”

“Like I need to know, this shit isn’t rocket science.”

“And it’s his job to make my look as fine as I always do.”

You watched as Katsuki faced you, grabbing a random brush and your highlighter.

“This is like the base coat for your foundation crap, right.”

He huffed to himself as you stifled a laughter, side eyeing the camera

He brushed it all over your face before picking up your stick foundation,

“Now this just kinda goes.. Fucking everywhere.”

He narrowed his eyes in concentration and you thought he was adorable,

“What are you doing Katsu?”

“You put dots all over your face. So that, stupid.”

He grabbed the beauty blender and you were shocked to try to see him dab it all over your face

He lightly grabbed your neck to maneuver your position,

Making it easier to blend in the makeup

“Do you think I need this much makeup?”

“No.”

“Awhhh-”

“You need a fucking crap ton.”

You smacked his arm again at the rude comment,

But you knew he was kidding with the way he was smirking

“Now that your face is done or whatever the hell, guess it’s the eyes.”

He picked up one of your newer palets and your heart skipped a beat,

“Oh man I just got this… Don’t mess it up please.”

“Yea, yea shut up.”

“I’m serious Katsuki-”

“Shitty woman I won’t mess it up. Now quit talking so I can make your eyes fucking pretty.”

“Haha okayy~”

He grabbed a small brush and opened your eyeshadow pallet,

Staring intently at the colors

“What are you glaring so hard for? Just pick one, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You use these two the most. Let’s mix them.”

“Wait, what-”

You watched with wide eyes as he dipped the brush into one color,

Roughly grabbing the powder onto the brush before-

“Have you lost your damn mind, KATSUKI!”

“EH!? WHAT!”

You watched as he selected another color,

Lighter than the first,

Blending them together on the pallet instead of on your eye

LIKE HOW A REGULAR HUMAN BEING DID IT

“YOU CAN’T JUST MIX THEM THERE, YOU RUIN THE COLOR!”

“HA? YOU BLEND SHIT ALL THE TIME!?”

“ON MY EYES DUMBASS!”

“So.. Like this?”

He brought the brush up to your cheek and smeared the makeup all over

“Whoops. Missed.”

“Katsukii!”

Laughing and whining you tried to push him away but he kept sneaking makeup all over your face,

Grabbing your hands and holding them so you couldn’t stop his onslaught

It was all fun and games till you heard a crash,

Looking down you saw your pallet on the ground,

Face down

“... Bakugou Katsuki…”

At the tone of your voice he stopped,

Looking down to where he saw you gaze on your fallen makeup.

“Oh fuck.”

Let’s just say that video ended with a bunch of cut scenes until you said goodbye,

Smiling face full of misused makeup and Katsuki with a smug look on his face,

Even if he did have matching makeup stains where you wiped your cheek against his.

“Fellas, if you’re asked to try this, just don’t-”

“Ignore him!! Thanks for the stopping by and watching the explosion duo! See you guys soon! ”

Eijiro Kirishima!:

“Hi beautiful people, and welcome back to my channel! It’s your host, RockkStarr here with my own, rock star- Red Riot! And today we are going to be doing the Chubby Bunny challenge!”

“Yosh!! I’m hyped up to eat some delicious sweets, oh, and the marshmallows too.”

Winking at the camera Eijiro pulled you in close,

You laughed and tried to squirm away as he left playful bites along your shoulder

“Oh stop! If you guys are unfamiliar with the challenge, it’s a winner-loser game-”

“That I’ll definitely win.”

“That you win by seeing how many marshmallows you can fit in your mouth while still being able to say, ‘chubby bunny’!”

“Oh then I’ll definitely lose, you see these cheeks? Made for this.”

“Owiee!”

Eijiro laughed as you swatted his hand away while he pinched your cute cheek.

“Let’s get onto the marshmallows!”

“YOSH!”

The first few times didn’t go so well since he kept eating them,

“Ei babe you gotta keep it in your mouth!”

“That’s what she-”

After a few more failed attempts you were both up to five, and you both could still talk pretty clearly,

But Kirishima was not making this easy for you,

“What was that??”

“You heard me!!”

You covered your mouth as you tried to hold back laughter,

Making it even harder to do so as you saw your boyfriend's cheeks puffed out so wide,

With a pursed smile to make him look funnier

“Say it again!”

“CHUBBY BUNNY!!”

After another 4 more you were getting to the limit,

Eijirou was tearing up in laughter about how cute you looked with puffed cheeks,

And every time you opened your mouth to talk they would almost fall out,

“Why don’t you just kiss me already?”

He teased with an almost clear voice,

You rolled your eyes at his smugness but did it anyways,

As soon as your lips touched you couldn’t hold back the giggles,

Spitting out wet marshmallows all over your boyfriend you began dying of laughter,

His shocked and disgusted face made you laugh even harder as his own came out of his mouth

“THAT WAS SO GROSS BABE!”

“AHHHH I’M SORRY!”

You both ended the video,

Your chin slick with drool and Eijiro covered in soggy marshmallows,

But you were both smiling and laughing nonetheless

“Thanks for tuning in! See you beauties next time, RockkStarr-”

“And Red Riot!”

“OUT!”

Shoto Todoroki!:

“Hello friends, it’s me, IceeBaby! Don’t be alarmed, I know it may be hard to recognize me behind all this Gucci-”

“That’s a store brand tee-shirt, don’t lie.”

“Aaaaaand I’m here with my ice ice baby, Shoto! Thanksforruiningtheintro.”

“Anything for you, love.”

“Thanks babe.. today we are going to have a fashion show of sorts. I'll be trying on my closet for you all to see, and he is taking time out of his busy day to rate them for me!”

“She looks good in anything, so you’re going to get 10/10s everytime.”

“Oh my gosh. Are you flirting with me?”

“I most definitely am.”

“You do know I am dating a top pro hero right?”

“What is he going to do?”

You giggle as Shoto pulls you onto his lap from, squeezing you tight while he did.

“He can try all he wants but he can't have you back.”

“You’re such a dork-Oh no!! You’ll wrinkle my clothes, let me go!”

“Wrinkled or not this outfit is still a 10 for me.”

You wiggled out of his hold, messing his hair up as you stood.

You tried on a few different outfits, explaining where you got them and why you liked them so much.

“Oh and this shirt-”

“Is my favorite actually.”

“Ohh?? Why is that?”

“This is the shirt you were wearing when we went on our first date.”

Your jaw dropped and Shoto swears there were hearts in your eyes,

“Shoto.. You remember that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It was one of the best days of my life, you were wearing that shirt and that one pair of jeans that makes your ass look fat-”

“aahhhHHHHHHH! you know about my butt enhancing jeans!?”

“Well, then I didn’t but I know which ones they are now.”

“Kya, you’re so embarrassing~!”

“You were the one wearing them, trying to impress me.”

“Well of course! I was on a date with an up and coming hero, who has tons of pretty heroes who could snatch you from me.”

You pouted looking away from him,

He once again pulled you onto his lap,

“No one is more beautiful than you. I want no one else.”

You looked over to the camera with a smug smile,

“Hear that? Sorry thirsty guys and gals, this man is all mine!”

“Thirsty??”

“Uh yeah, you know how many people thirst over you?”

“Do you know how many thirst over you?”

“Not as many as you, sweetie pie.”

“Whatever you say love, in that case,”

Shoto glared at the camera, shielding you with his body,

“You thirsty people cannot have her either.”

“KYAAA SHOTO-KUN HOW EMBARRASSING!!~~”

You look up at the camera the best you could, a big smile on your face,

“That’s it for today’s video! Go find other people to thirst over!! But I really hoped you enjoyed this! Comment down below if you’d like more content like this! Thanks a bunchies friends! Icy Hot 1 and 2 reporting for outro! Bye!”

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dontcare77ghj · 4 years ago

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Teach me

Steve x reader x Wanda x Bucky

You'd all joined the Avengers at different points throughout the years. Steve had been the first, you'd come a few months later, then Wanda had joined and finally Bucky.

As you were part of the same team, you'd all been friends long before the prospect of a relationship. The four of you were too nervous to act on any feelings you shared, and it had driven the team crazy. It had driven the team so crazy that Natasha, Clint, and Tony had locked the four of you in a room and refused to let you out until you all admitted your feelings.

Two years down the track, the four of you were the most effective team this world had seen. Together, missions were easy. You did what you needed to in a quick and almost systematic way.

As a quad, the four of you seemed to always be learning new things about each other. Even after years of being a team, friends, even after dating for two years. It appeared the surprises never ended.

"Am I allowed to move yet?" Wanda questioned Steve for the seventieth time.

"I'm almost done with the outline, Wand. Just a little longer, you look beautiful." Steve told her.

"Couldn't you just take a photo of her and work off that?" You asked, watching the scene from the sidelines. "Wanda looks like she's going to kill you."

"I could, but it wouldn't be the same." Steve shook his head. "Okay, I have an outline, you can move now, sweetheart," Steve told Wanda.

"Thank you." Wanda sighed. "Alright, I love you, but I'm going to lay down now. My back is killing me." She said, pressing a kiss to yours and Steve's cheeks.

"I still think you should have just taken a photo of her." You reiterated. "You never finish a painting in a day. You still have one you tried to do of the three of us that remains unfinished."

"I have to wait for the paint I want to arrive. There are certain colors I want to use, and I can't quite mix them." Steve told you as he got paint onto his palet.

"But still, Steve, how do you remember all the details you need to?" You questioned, tilting your head to the side.

"Because he's a lovesick sap and stares at us too often," Bucky said, entering and sitting beside you.

"Look who's talking." Steve snickered, glancing up to see Bucky pull you onto his lap.

"I at least admit it," Bucky said, nuzzling his face into your neck.

"How hard is painting?" You asked Steve.

"Not very hard. It's all about the amount of patience and time you put into it." Steve told you. "Did you ever learn to paint?"

"No, I was homeschooled even before my mutation kicked in." You shrugged. "Art wasn't part of my father's curriculum."

"We're going to fix that," Steve said, pulling the canvas off the stand and replacing it. "Come here." Steve held his hand out for you. Climbing out of Bucky's lap, you walked over to the blonde. Steve positioned you in front of the blank canvas and put a brush in your hand.

"What are we painting?" You quizzed Steve as he stood behind you.

"Whatever you want to paint," Steve said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want. You just say it, and I'll help you." Steve promised.

"I want to paint Buck." You looked back at the blonde with a smile.

"Then, Bucky, you shall paint." He said, beginning to teach you to paint.

For the next two hours, Bucky remained still as Steve guided you in your attempt at painting. When your impromptu art class was done, you had a finished picture of Bucky. It wasn't great, it wasn't terrible either, but it meant something to you because it was something you did with Steve. It was something Steve had taught you.

Non-reader POV

"How's Pietro?" Steve asked Wanda after she hung up the phone.

"He's doing well." Wanda smiled. "He's joined in some prank war that Clint started. He sounded very content with himself." She added, taking a seat next to Steve.

The quad had been on vacation for the past two weeks. The world had been quiet for the past few weeks. And as Tony pointed out, now was the perfect time to take that vacation, the four of you had been talking about.

Two weeks ago, the four of you had all packed a couple bags and taken Tony's jet to his house in Australia. A home he'd ever so graciously loaned to the four of you, provided you do him a favor one day in the future.

Pray to Thor Tony got drunk enough to forget all about the promise of a favor.

"They haven't burned down the tower, have they?" Steve asked her, worry coloring his tone. Clint and Pietro working together was not a good idea.

"Not yet," Wanda assured him. "Give them another week, and we'll revisit this conversation."

"Don't even joke about that." Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"He's a good man even if he does act like a debil." She smiled, resting her head on Steve's broad shoulder.

"Debil?" Steve rose an eyebrow. "I don't think I know that one."

"It's like an idiot, but a step further." Wanda attempted to explain to him.

"Moron?" Steve offered.

"Yes. Moron." Wanda snapped her fingers. "Pietro can act like a moron, but he has a good heart."

"How do you say that? Good heart?" Steve questioned, turning towards her.

"Khorosheye serdtse."

"Khorosheye serdtse," Steve repeated clumsily. "Khorosheye serdtse." He said again with much more clarity this time.

"Very good." Wanda smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

"Could you teach me some more?" Steve asked her with an enthused grin.

"Of course," Wanda told him. The two sat on the couch for the next hour, Wanda patiently teaching an eager Steve her native language, until Y/N and Bucky arrived.

"We're back!" Y/N said as she and Bucky entered the living room, arms laden with grocery bags.

"Dobro pozhalovat' domoy." Wanda and Steve greeted the two in unison.

"I didn't know you spoke Sokovian, Steve." Y/N commented as Wanda moved to help you and Buck.

"I didn't speak it until an hour ago," Steve said, kissing first Bucky and then you in greeting. "Wanda's been teaching me."

"Tell me, is Steve still a terrible student?" Bucky asked, causing Y/N and Wanda to giggle as Steve scowled.

"I was always a good student." He denied the brunette.

"Our French teacher wanted to wring your neck." Bucky deadpanned.

"He was a dick," Steve swore under his breath, but the other occupants of the room heard it, evident by their boisterous laughter.

"Anyway, what other sentences did you learn?" Y/N asked the blonde.

"Ya lyublyu vsekh vas," Steve said. "I love you all." He repeated in English.

"Love you too, sweetheart." Y/N said, kissing the man quickly.

"Love ya, ya punk," Bucky said, also kissing the man once Y/N had moved away.

"I think you'll have to teach me more Sokovian Wanda," Steve commented.

"I'll gladly teach you, Steve. Any time." Wanda responded with a smile.

"That smells really good," Wanda commented, entering the kitchen to see Bucky behind the stove.

"Thank you," Bucky said, looking up at her entrance. "I picked it up while on the run." He mentioned, pushing some of his hair out of his eyes.

"You need to do the cooking more often," Wanda told him, sneaking a taste of the sauce.

"Germs, Wand," Bucky said, shooing her away from the stove. "Besides, if I did all the cooking, we wouldn't get to have your paprikash."

"I'll teach you how to make paprikash if you teach me how to make whatever this is." Wanda bargained.

"It's chicken marsala," Bucky explained to her. "And you've got yourself a deal." He added, shaking her hand.

"Great." Wanda chirped, throwing her hair into a ponytail. "What can I do to help?"

"Can you use the mallet and flatten the chicken out?" Bucky asked her.

"Yes, chef," Wanda smirked, moving over to the board where the chicken breasts were waiting. "So who taught you how to make this?"

"I was bussing at a restaurant somewhere in Italy," Bucky told her. "I was friends with one of the chefs, and he would teach me some recipes after hours. This was one of the few things I was good at."

"I highly doubt you weren't able to master everything you were taught." Wanda rolled her eyes at his modesty.

"Seriously." Bucky nodded. "I almost burnt the kitchen down once. I spilled a bottle of liqueur near the flame and would've burnt the whole place down. If it weren't for the fact, there were fire extinguishers in every corner of that place."

"Maybe we should bring that idea back to the tower." Wanda giggled as she finished flattening out the chicken. "Okay, what next chef?"

"We get them in the pan," Bucky told her. "Bring the board over, and I'll show you the perfect way to get them cooked perfectly."

"Bold words." Y/N said as she and Steve entered the kitchen.

"Just you wait, kitten. You'll see." Bucky promised, smiling as the two sat at the island.

"How was your day?" Steve asked Wanda and Bucky.

"Surely much more relaxing than the two of yours," Wanda smirked. "How was the skype meeting?"

"Hell." Y/N groaned, resting her head on the marble. "It's such bullshit they called. We're on vacation."

"I know, moy sladkiy." Wanda cooed. "If you want, I can tell Pietro to annoy them." She offered, turning the chicken as Bucky told her.

"Fury would kill him, doll," Bucky told the witch.

"And Tony would glue his feet to the floor." Steve chuckled.

"Dinner is almost ready." Bucky nodded, stepping away from Wanda to open the wine. "Y/N, could you grab plates and glasses? Steve, could you grab the cutlery?" Bucky asked.

"You got it." Y/N said, hopping off the stool.

Y/N and Steve set the table as Wanda and Bucky finished off the delicious-smelling meal.

"And we proudly present chicken marsala," Bucky said, dishing up each plate.

"This is delicious, you guys." Y/N moaned.

"And that is the highest compliment I need," Bucky said, cutting into his own meal. "What do you say, Wand?"

“It’s all I need.” Wanda smiled.

Reader POV

The four of you had returned home a month ago. You immediately wished you were back in Australia. It seemed as the world was on pause in Australia, but the second the four of you returned to New York, the world was playing again.

It had been back to back missions and meetings for the past month, and it was taking its toll on you. You felt drained. You felt tired, no matter the amount of caffeine you consumed. But you also felt too wired to even try to sleep.

You needed a break. You need five minutes for yourself.

It was 1:04 in the morning as you dragged yourself out of your shared bed. You grabbed the bag you left by the elevator doors and stepped in, rubbing your eyes before stretching.

"To the studio, please," You said, leaning against the wall.

"Of course." The Irish A.I. said before making the elevator move. You quickly made it to the studio and sat on the floor as you opened your bag. Pulling out your pointe shoes brought into you a feeling of nostalgia.

It had been a while since you'd pulled them out of storage.

The lacing of your pointe shoes and the stretches were ingrained into your bones. You were almost vibrating in joy as you tied the final lace. It was funny, you hated ballet when you were younger. Hated that you were pushed into it with no regard as to your own feelings. Yet now, it brought you joy. Brought you calm.

The world faded as you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play your playlist. You had finished your third routine when you heard slow clapping behind you. Looking up and into the mirrors, you saw Bucky standing behind you with a smile.

"Did I wake you?" You puffed out, spinning around to face him.

“Wasn’t sleeping anyway.” Bucky told you, stepping forward. “You were so into your dances, you didn’t even notice me standing there.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, looking down.

“Nothing to be sorry about, kitten.” Bucky said, raising your chin and kissing you softly. “You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You responded, cheeks flushing redder than they already were.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dance before.” Bucky stated.

“You weren’t missing much.” You shrugged, moving for your water bottle. “I don’t do it as often as I’d like anyway.”

“Don’t say that, kitten. I think you’re really good.” He said, sitting next to you. “Do you think you could teach me a little?”

“Really?” You asked him in surprise. No one had ever wanted to dance with you.

“Really, really.” He smiled.

“Okay.” You grinned. “Okay yeah. I can teach you whenever you want.”

“How about now?” Bucky suggested, standing and holding a hand out to you. You smiled widely and grabbed his hand and he twirled you into his arms. “See I already know a few tricks.”

“Guess an old dog can learn new tricks.” You teased him. “Let’s see if I can teach you a few more.” You added, leading him into the middle of the room.

Time flew by as you began to teach Bucky. The tricks started off easy but it turns out Bucky was a fast learner and an ambitious one. The sun was beginning to enter the room as you and Bucky tried a new lift (12 seconds).

“Please don’t drop me.” You laughed giddily.

“Never, Y/n.” He promised, gently lowering you down.

“Do we want to know how long you two have been in here?” Wanda asked, standing in the doorway, red robe tied tightly over her body. Steve stood beside her in his pajamas with a smile on his face.

“Probably not.” You nodded.

“You do know it’s six in the morning, right?” Steve asked the two of you. After the two of you shook your heads, he let out a sigh. “Come on, let’s get some breakfast. The two of you can show us what you’ve been up to after.”

“Sounds good to me.” Bucky said, grabbing your bag in one hand and your hand in the other.

The four of you had been together for years, and yet the four of you were constantly teaching each other new things.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh

Coming soon

Dean x reader Cas

Bucky x reader x Natasha

Meg x reader x Cas

Wanda x reader x Vision

Steve x reader x Bucky x Peggy

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honeyhan-123 · 4 years ago

Text

The Artist ~ I

Summary: When Steve meets the reader at an art class he immediately becomes enticed and maybe, just maybe, she can help heal his wounded heart.

Warnings: None for this chapter but smut will be present in later chapters

Pairings: Steve x reader, Steve x Bucky

AN: I meant to post this tomorrow but I realised today was Chris Evans’ birthday as well as @jtargaryen18 who inspired me to start writing so I decided to post it early in celebration. This is also the first chapter of my entry to @that-damn-girl pride writing challenge. I would like to say a massive thank you to @imanuglywombat for the absolutely stunning moodboard and @magdaleneruth for being an awesome beta!

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He couldn’t believe it.

Even watching the flyer hang from the board on the wall with his own two eyes, Steve could barely remember the conversation with Nat that led to this moment as he was sat on a bench outside a classroom for the first time in eighty years.

He hadn’t drawn seriously in decades, probably since before the Battle of New York. The rest had just been little doodles, here and there. Nothing really came from it. But here he was standing in the doorway of a studio, ready for a life drawing class.

Steve couldn’t understand the nerves racking his body—he was Captain America for crying out loud, he’s been in far worse situations than attending an art class.

Why on earth couldn’t he bring himself to walk through a silly little doorway? He was pulled from his thoughts by a soft delicate voice.

‘Excuse me...’ He was pulled from his thoughts by a voice, soft and delicate. His head snapped to the left, his jaw drifting slightly ajar as he took you in. ‘Are you headed inside?’ You were dressed casually, a warm jacket over what was clearly a man’s button down shirt and your jeans had little doodles on the rough denim canvass. Little splats of paint here and there coated the entire look. Steve didn’t know quite why, but he was immediately enticed.

‘I - uh, yeah. I am, sorry I’m in your way.’ He hastily moved out of the doorway, gesturing for you to enter first but you didn’t make a move as your eyes clearly sized him up and he was thankful he had pulled the dark blue baseball cap low over his brow. It wasn’t much in terms of a disguise but that paired with the thick beard that coated his jaw made it harder for the average person to recognise him.

‘Is this your first drawing class?’ You framed it as a question, but it was clear you already knew the answer.

He nodded a little sheepishly. ‘How could you tell?’

‘You just seem a little nervous. Don’t worry, though. It’s really not as scary as it might seem. I remember when I first signed up, I was terrified that someone would say I wasn’t good enough for the class. I could barely keep my hands steady. So, naturally, that turned out to be one of the worst drawings of my life but no one said a word. You have nothing to worry about - you don’t need to prove yourself here.’

‘Anytime, but if you are going to come in I suggest you do it sooner rather than later. Madame Maxine absolutely hates tardiness and it’s nearly seven.’ You gave him a small but genuine smile before you excused yourself, your hips swaying slightly as you walked through the doorway and over to an easel.

He let out a sigh of relief when you’d left - it gave him some privacy to hype himself up and quiet the inner critic screaming his anxieties.Taking a steadying breath, he followed your footsteps and headed for an unclaimed easel towards the back as the rest of the class made idle chit chat, clearly all familiar with one another as they readied themselves for the lesson.

He rolled out his shoulders before sitting on the small stool, pulling his sketchbook and set of charcoal pencils from his satchel. It was a mixed media class and Steve watched in awe as some people set canvases up on their easels, their palets already covered with various colours of paint.

He felt woefully underprepared with his worn leather bound sketchbook and collection of pencils, but it was how he had always drawn. His mother had barely been able to afford the splurge for real drawing pencils, nevermind paints or canvases.

There was a portly man standing in the corner of the room stretching his muscles this way and that, and he figured this must be their model for the day. Most of the drawing Steve had done in the past few years had been of inanimate objects, it was much easier than asking one of his many busy friends to sit still for a few hours as he drew them. If he’d felt more in the mood for a portrait, he generally used photographs as a reference point, so having a real live model would be a nice change.

A few more minutes passed before an elderly woman entered the room. Her hair was grey and her curls frayed out in every direction from the messy bun she has tied it in. She wore a green and yellow bandana around her face keeping her hair away and a matching flowy dress with a dark blue half apron tied around her waist. Immediately, Steve knew this woman had to be Maxine.

She clapped her hands together, drawing the class’s attention as she neared the front of the room. ‘Good evening, I am Maxine Winnefred and I will be your instructor over the next few weeks as we explore the human form. I recognise some of you from my Summer course focussed on the true form of still life in fruits and flowers, and I would just like to say it’s lovely to see you all again.’ She smiled as her eyes rested on those who must be the familiar faces.

‘To the new faces in the room, there are a few things you should know about me.While I do understand everyone has lives outside of the art world, tardiness remains unacceptable as a hard and fast rule–especially where live models are concerned. Secondly, whether about your own piece or someone else’s, I will not stand for any negative thoughts. We are all here to learn and the only way you can truly achieve that is with a positive mindset. If you feel negatively about a particular piece of yours, you must think of it as a stepping stone. What did you do wrong? What can you improve on next time? The human form is incredibly complicated and it may take a while getting used to if you’re not familiar with it.’

‘Since you have all elected to pay for the entire course, if for some reason you are unable to make it to a session, I also run a Thursday night class. You must call me and let me know that you will be attending that class as I will need to make sure there are enough easels and stools. I will hand out my number at the end of class. Are there any questions?’

Although it had barely been five minutes, Steve could already tell he would enjoy this class, especially being under Maxine’s tutelage. She had a no nonsense air that was rare to find in the art world and despite this being a fairly casual, once a week type of get together, Steve knew she took her work seriously. She wanted all of her pupils to be their best.

The room fell into silence as her eagle eye flickered around the sea of faces. When moments had passed in silence, she continued.

‘This is Jerry,’ she held her arm out, becaning the man over. ‘He will be our first model. We will be drawing him for the first two weeks, once with clothes and once without, we will then move onto our next model and the same process will follow.’ Everyone nodded their heads in understanding but Steve felt his cheeks flush slightly. He had known that there would be nude models and he knew that it was all purely professional but still… the small kid from the forties never would have even thought about doing something like this.

‘Right. Jerry,’ she clapped her hands again, eyes locked on just where her model would go in the scene. ‘If you could please get into position A, we can get started. To the class, we’ll have him sit for an hour and twenty minutes. Then another hour after that with a break in between. Somewhere in there we’ll have a vote on whether or not we would like to see a new pose or the same.’ Maxine checked the time as Jerry found his seating on the lone stool in the front of the room. Once he was in position, she prompted the class to begin.

Although he’d been wanting to avoid detection, Steve was deeply regretting choosing a seat so far from the front. On the surface level, his better than average eyesight would be acceptable - and yet, being the perfectionist that he was, he wanted to get up and close with Jerry. He wanted to be able to mark every tiny blemish on his skin, every line of sadness or laughter.

Steve sighed to himself before he picked up his HB pencil, getting to work on his main outline. He hadn’t been working long when he felt a presence at his shoulder, peering over at his work. He’d just finished the vague outline of Jerry’s clothes and the stool beneath him when she spoke. ‘Back in my day, it was considered rude to wear a hat indoors, Mr…?’

He had to at least try and hide his smile over her words, being at least forty years her senior.

‘Just Steve.’ Quickly he swiped the cap from his head, placing it down in his satchel on the floor. ‘I’m sorry ma’am.’

‘That’s okay son, just don’t let it happen again.’ She gave him a small smile before setting off, perusing the pieces of the other artists and Steve got back to work.

His neck ached from the awkward position it had been contorted to for the past ninety minutes. He could feel the muscles in his hand beginning their protest. It had been a long time since he’d drawn so intently and he wasn’t used to it quite yet.

He stood from his stool, stretching out his back as he did so, wandering over to the small table of refreshments after a few moments. He swiped a lemon biscuit from the tray, catching sight of you from his periphery. You were gesturing wildly as you chatted up an older fellow. Your face was the picture of sincerity and Steve couldn’t help but smile as he eavesdropped.

‘One of these days you have to teach me your shading technique, Albert. The way you make a simple shadow have so much depth and colour is incredible,’ you gushed.

‘So long as you teach me how you do the detail work around the eyes. Whenever I try, they just come out looking blank!’ he shot back with a smile on his lips.

‘It’s a deal.’ You held your hand jokingly Albert took it, shaking it vigorously as you chuckled. Feeling his eyes on you, your head quirked in Steve’s direction and you quickly excused yourself.

Steve tried to busy himself and pretend that he hadn’t been caught awkwardly staring at you but your footsteps were growing closer by the second.

‘So? How are you feeling, newbie? Not as daunting as you thought, huh?’ There was a small teasing smile playing along the corner of your lips and Steve couldn't help but laugh along with you.

‘I really don’t know why I was so nervous, but what you said… Well, it really helped. So, thank you for that. I assume you took Maxine’s summer course?’ he asked, trying to make conversation.

‘Yeah, it was a fruit and flower class, plus I also took her winter human form class before that. I fell hard for portraits, so I just knew I had to take it again this year.’ Steve nodded in understanding, taking a class this way was the perfect opportunity to work on portraiture. ‘And what about yourself? I may have snuck a peek at your easel. You have an incredible eye from what I can tell. How did you capture such detail in only pencils?’

Steve felt his face heat as he took your compliment. ‘I’m honestly not quite sure, but I’ve had a lot of practice. Growing up, I was bedridden more often than not and my best friend used to come over and sit with me for hours. I probably know his face better than my own.’ He felt the familiar pang that echoed around his heart every time he thought of Bucky and those days that stretched into nights when all he would do was stare at the other man, trying to capture his beauty on the page. Steve forced himself to shake off the memories to try and keep his tone light. He hadn’t intended on saying something so personal but there was just something about you that made him want to let down his guard and that was dangerous.

‘Really? You were bedridden?’ Your mouth gaped slightly and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes danced slightly down his body. ‘But you look so perfect now - I mean, uh. You look… You look very healthy.’

He smiled, trying not to laugh as dread coated your face. He’s reminded so much of the man he left behind all those years ago…the boy in the back of the car, driving through Brooklyn, although he had to admit, you were far cuter than he had ever been.

‘How long have you been painting for?’ Steve tried to brush the conversation away, he liked talking to you just as a fellow artist and he wasn’t ready for you to recognise him. ‘You’re very talented.’

‘Oh, it’s just sort of a hobby that I do in my spare time. I went to uni and got an Arts degree, but you know how it goes. It only gets you so far in the real world.’

‘If you’re not an artist, what do you do for a living?’

‘I’m a secretary at a law firm.’ He nodded trying to maintain control of his thoughts. Being a secretary wasn’t a filler job for a woman any more. Not like it had been in his day. ‘You?’

‘Oh…’ The question took him completely by surprise and his mind went blank. He needed to think fast. ‘I uh… I work for Stark Enterprises. I’m on his PR team.’ Steve tried to justify it in his mind as it wasn’t a complete lie he was a part of the PR team. Plus, he couldn’t have said he was a scientist or something. It would have been clear he was lying if you asked him any type of even remotely science question.

‘Ah, maybe that’s why you look kind of familiar. Are you a part of his press conferences?’

Steve nodded, feeling his throat start to tighten. He wasn’t ready for this to end. Call him selfish but he didn’t want this to end. For someone to treat him as he was, rather than who he was. He hadn’t felt so at home with himself, with someone else, in a long time.

He was saved from further interrogation by the chime of a bell. The ten minute break was up. The group had already opted to keep Jerry in the same reclined pose, so he quickly found his position and the class returned to their sketching.

While Steve tried to keep his eyes focussed on his drawing, he couldn’t help the constant flicker of his eyes over to where to sat, paintbrush in hand, looking like one of the Greek Muses.

He only prayed you were one of the merciful ones.

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#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #apridec1 #marvel #mcu #steve x reader #honeyhan writes #q it up

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monsters-under-the-willowtree · 4 years ago

Text

The Blueberry Trees: Part Two

Ungendered Fae x Ungendered Reader

3000 words

Link to Part One

“And then...” your grandmother’s voice wavers, pausing for dramatic effect while your little brother sits wide-eyed on her knee, “... the mists arrived once again. Pouring from between the newly planted trees like a fog bank. Knot Knix unfurled it’s magic once again. Fruit trees spontaneously bloomed. Sprouts pushed through the ground. And a little fae child with eyes too bright and ears too long watched from up the hill, at the faerie ring, as a cheer rose from the farming families below. A smile tugged at their lips, and as the faerie disappeared into the trees, the blueberries trees waved in the wind, beginning to blossom once again as well.”

Your brother gasped and leaned against her shoulder. “So there’s more seeds!? The blueberry tree makes more seeds every year and we get to plant them to make the forest bigger!?”

You snorted. The fae would like that, wouldn’t they? No, you’d heard this story a hundred times and you, of all the people in your town, knew the truth. You alone could see through the glamour.

You knew the fairytale was a big fat lie.

“No. The fae came back when the trees sprouted new berries. The whole town gathered around,” you recalled with an exaggerated wave of your hands and a roll of your eyes, “to see what was going on. And up at the very top of the tallest blueberry tree sat the fae. He called down to the people below and told them that they were starting a new friendship between the farmers and the fae. Said the trees had been given new magic. A gift from Knot Knix, for those of us who had been so faithful to their word and had “righted the wrongs done to the wood and its people.” They don’t make magic tree seeds anymore.”

“Well what do they do now?”

Your grandmother gave you a withering glare and you kept your mouth shut. She kept glaring until you turned away, a silent submission to her matriarchal position in the family. Once it was clear that you weren’t going to try to convince the family again not to believe the story and the fae, she turned her chin back down to the grandchild on her lap and smiled sweetly at him again.

“Why, they make blueberries of course! The sweetest, most delicious blueberries in the world. We can sell them for quite a price, which is why every year we have the Blueberry Days carnival and people from all over the world are starting to take notice! Did you see all the beautiful, different kinds of people that came last year? Oh, it was all so magical!”

You pulled a face and left the room. This was one of the reasons you hadn’t done anything about this yet. Blueberry Days brought in a ton of revenue that was divided up among the towns surrounding Knot Knix, and you didn’t know if trying to undue this ... curse, if that was the right word for it... would be the ruin of your community. Sure the spring and summer mists still came and watered the crops, giving the families all around the woods enough food to live comfortably even on such depleted farms. But Blueberry Days was the reason roads had been paved, schools had been built, and a lot of towns were starting to really come into their own with shopping malls and movie theaters and restaurants they otherwise couldn’t have afforded to build.

Looking out the window of your bedroom you could see the fairy ring of trees and the tents that were being erected in the field surrounding them. The sight of them made your skin crawl, but you chose this bedroom out of the morbid need to keep an eye on them regardless. It had been this way since you were 10.

You’d been on an extended vacation with your out-of-town aunt and uncle that spring because your house was being renovated and your mother didn’t want you and your brother breathing in the dust. When you came back some months later... there were these trees. And everyone insisted you HAD to try some blueberries, even though there were no more left to eat. They all insisted that ... next year. Next year you had to try them. They were a gift from the fae and you just had to. Nothing could compare. Everything else tasted like ash in comparison. Which is why everyone also started to grow leaner that year. They just couldn’t stomach the taste of their own delicious food.

You had a whole year of looking at those trees and watching the community grow gaunt with hunger for the fae food so “generously” given and hearing the story repeated over and over. About the bad human men and they years of abuse they’d done to the forest. The desolation, the necessary sacrifice to make things right. The trees.

Those trees that finally bloomed and just holding the bright blue jewels in your hand had been like holding a poisonous snake. You had feigned an upset stomach and declined that year, and every year after you’d had to come up with some excuse as to why you couldn’t eat them. People came from farther and farther away to just taste even one. And they all walked away... different. Calmer. More serene. Insisting that these were the finest things anyone had ever tasted and that all other foods tasted like ash in comparison.

Now you were older, and now something had to be done. You couldn’t stand it any longer. People were getting really sick now just from malnutrition. They’d been smart enough to gather a lot of the berries and turn them into a juice that could be added to human food to make it more paletable, so things were getting a little better. But still the community was completely tethered to those horrible trees. And something had to be done.

You filled your backpack with everything you could think of needing and set off before dawn. Just as first light broke over the horizon, you stepped into the fairy ring of trees.

Nothing happened.

It took you a minute to remember that people stepped into this fairy ring all the time to harvest the blueberries every spring, so it would make sense that nothing would happen. But then… how were you supposed to find the fae? You looked up at the top of the trees and then smacked your forehead. The fairy child had come back to the top of the tallest tree. You were going to have to climb it.

One heavy sigh, and you hefted yourself up onto the lowest branch of the southern-most tree. It was the closest to the forest and happened to be the tallest, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was causation or coincidence. Then you stepped up onto the next lowest branch, and jumped to catch the third. Higher and higher you climbed, well into the mid-afternoon by the time the branches became too thin for you to climb any higher. Up here the berries truly glittered like sapphires and your stomach growled loudly to be so close to such pretty food and yet to be denied a taste. If the smell was half as good as the taste, you could believe the stories and the hunger and the gaunt faces of your family and friends. But it was the reminder of those same gaunt faces that pushed you just climb a teeny bit higher, you grip white-knuckled against the breeze-driven sway of the giant tree.

And out from behind another stepped a fae that couldn’t have been much older than you were. It was with some small satisfaction that this part of the story was at least true. The eyes were too bright, almost glowing from within. The teeth too sharp, predatory and dangerous within the disarmingly sweet smile. Ears long and tapered in a way that reminded you somewhat of a Caracal. Everything about them just off enough to be off-putting but not enough for someone who was in a hurry to notice a difference right away. But once you started noticing the differences, you couldn’t stop. Especially since, in spite of the fact that they looked to be about your same age, they had no trouble standing blithely on the teeny, thin branches that reached this high up.

They looked at you with amusement. A haughty sort of smirk that made you feel all at once like this was exactly the thing they had been waiting for this whole time. A thought that very much had you wishing that you hadn’t just stepped boldly into the center of a fairy ring and then climbed up to the very top of the tallest tree in said fairy ring while it swayed to and fro in the wind.

“Well hello. I was wondering when you would come. And now you’re here!”

You swallowed thickly and nodded, resisting the urge to slide your way all the way back down to the safety of the ground, splinters included. “Here I am.”

They tilted their head at you, grin turning coy as they folded their arms and popped one hip at you. “Not many are so brave and bold as you, climbing up so high to see me. But you seem determined. An excellent quality in a human. It might even make up for all the other things. Please, brave stranger, may I have your name?”

This much, you’d prepared for. Even in a town bewitched by fae, there was enough knowledge floating around to give you a springboard for talking to one. “You may not have it,” you answered, and told them a name that they could call you instead. “May I have the honor of knowing a name I may call you as well?”

The fae looked impressed in spite of themselves and turned up their nose to the side. “You may have the honor of calling me Fioré.”

So far this was going well, and you smiled in spite of the stress sweat starting to accumulate under your arms and in your palms. The last thing you needed at a height like this was sweaty, slippery hands. “It is an honor. I have brought you a gift, as a token of gratitude for the bounty the mists bring our farm every spring.”

This piqued their curiosity, and they danced on leaves a step or two closer to your tree. “Oh? Is this a gift that will replace the gift of first fruits your family has given each year for generations?”

“No, the gift of the first harvest from each season is a gift given by my parents, done in gratitude for the ability to feed their family and pay their property taxes. Now that I am old enough to appreciate this gift on my own, I have chosen to bring my own gift of gratitude, if you will accept it.”

The fae tip-toed closer still, in spite of the seeming impossibility of such a feat, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as you pulled your backpack off of your shoulder (carefully) and dug inside it. Out came a resin-cast four leaved clover on a simple hemp-braided necklace.

“I found this in our field, which is watered by the morning mists and has kept our livestock fed for generations. We believe the four-leaved clover brings good luck, and I would wish only the best of luck on whomever is responsible for the mist. Will you accept it?”

“I will accept it.” The fae snatched the necklace from you and placed it around their neck, admiring the way the sun made the polished resin shine.

“Dear fae, to whom I am so grateful, I have another gift, if you will accept it.”

“Oooh! What is it!?” They danced closer, nearly reaching the same branches you were carefully balanced on, eager to see the next present.

“This,” you answered, producing an enormous rainbow lollipop, “is my favorite carnival treat which I purchased with money earned helping my parents on our farm. A farm that we owe to the mists, and so as my own way of offering a gift of that harvest I would like to give you a gift of my own harvest... if you will accept it.”

Fioré didn’t even finish shouting their acceptance before the lollipop was snatched from your hands. They tore into it greedily, practically melting with joy as soon as the sugar touched their tongue.

“Wa’ ‘bou’,” they tried to ask, mouth full of sugar until they pulled the treat from their lips with a loud smack. “What about the gift of my blueberry trees, the gift of which the carnival celebrates each spring? The mists are a gift from all fae of Knot Knix but these trees are a gift from me and me alone. What gift of gratitude do you have for me for the majesty and wonder of these trees and their fruits?”

You started to sweat in earnest now. This was it. Crunch time. You’d sort of thought that it would take more gifts and flattery than this for them to ask about the trees but if this was your chance, you were going to take it. “I am sorry, Fioré, but I cannot give a gift in exchange for a gift I have not received.”

“Not...” their smile faltered and they reached up to pluck a berry from the tree, thrusting it into your face. “Here, eat it.”

“I will not eat it. I do not understand the nature of this gift. Will you please explain the gift?”

Fioré rolled their eyes and rambled off the story of the bad men and their terrible treatment of the woods, the destruction and their poor treatment of the fae child who happened to be Fioré themselves when they were younger. The trees, the seeds, the farmers, the forest.

At the end of the story you nodded your head. “I have heard the story many times. And yet I do not understand the gift of the blueberries. You say that the men who destroyed the forest were turned to rabbits. Their debt was paid with their lives. Then, the people around the forest gave the forest the gift of growth and healing at a high cost to themselves. This paid the debt humanity owed the injured forest. The gift given in return by the forest is the mist, a gift that is repaid with freely offered first fruits of every harvest.”

The fae looked fit to burst, but you pressed on. If this was going to be the way you died, at least it was done for your family.

“And then there is the gift of these blueberries, whose sweetness changes the taste of all other foods to ash. What sort of gift is given that brings sickness to the receiver? A gift given in bad faith, by a poor host.”

The trees shook with Fioré’s anger, but you couldn’t keep it in any longer. Years of begging and pleading, reasoning with your family that they needed to stop eating this poison, and years of being all but ostracized by even your own family members bubbled up in your chest. The hurt and the heartache and the hair-tearing frustration all culminated in one accusatory ginger jabbed in their face.

“You LIED! I was 10 when the trees appeared that spring. I had been sent away for the season and when I came back, the whole town was under your glamour. There were no “years of harm done to the forest.” There were no retributions that needed to be answered for, no wrongs to right! Only a gift given at great personal cost that has been answered with plague. And now you ask for payment for this plague!? This curse!? You LIED! And now you are a cheat and a fraud as well.”

Fioré went pale at the accusation, the forest beginning to shake and sway with its own fury. You had seen through the glamour, called them out on their scam, and now all of Knot Knix new it too.

“FINE! Fine! I’ll fix it! I’ll fix it!”

Fioré stretched out their arms, and the slender fingers at the end. Bending nearly in half with their eyes screwed shut the forest and the blueberry trees grew still. Slowly they drew themselves up to their full height and, with a loud snap of their fingers the edge of the forest retreated back to its original borders and the blueberries that had been ripening on the trees fell off in a blue bouncing waterfall that swept you out of the trees, the fairy ring, and down the hill in a mighty rush. You tumbled down the hill with a scream in a berry avalanche, coming to rest in a sticky heap at the bottom. Blinking up at the sky, stomach turning, Fioré came into view again with that cocksure smirk on their face once more.

“We’ll see each other again, little blueberry. You can be sure of that.”

Your grunted and worked to right yourself, but by the time you’d made it to an upright position Fioré had disappeared without a trace.

“Well I never!” The voice of your grandmother was slightly muffled from all the juice in your ears. “What did you do!?”

You looked over to see her hands on her hips, every ounce of her spitfire back now that the fae magic had been lifted.

And you laughed. Laughed long and loud and hard even as your grandmother started to curse at you. In fact, the swearing made you laugh harder. It was over now. It was finally over. You didn’t know what this would mean for the festival, for the blueberry trees, or for the farmers now that they’d magically had their lands suddenly returned to them. All you knew was that you had been right all along, things were going to get better...

And that blueberry tasted pretty darn good.

#monster x human #exophilia #fae #monsters #modern fairytale #fairy ring

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minervahopebeyond · 4 years ago

Text

Blood Petals.

Hi, Everyone! This was so much fun to write!!

I’m not going to update for a few days because I have to do a paper for college. As soon as I finish it I can write again.

I hope you enjoy this chapter!! 😊💕

Ps. I’ve checked but I’m sorry if you find any grammar or vocabulary errors.

Chapter 8: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

August brought good news to Grimmauld Place: Sirius name was cleared. He still needed to do a trial in a few months but he was granted a permit to get out of the house. It turned out that Mr. Potter was almost done with the test so he could be taken into account to vouch for Sirius.

It seemed as if everything was falling into place. The weird thing was that outside, things were getting pretty ugly. He couldn’t help but to be worried about his mother at Malfoy Manor.

“I just need you to tell her that I’m safe. And watch over her. Please, Severus...” His godfather refused to send information to her, which he didn’t like but after a few fights he understood. He tried to keep Draco informed about how she was doing every week (when the meetings took place).

Severus was still mad with him. The blond boy considered telling him, but he didn’t want to be pitied anymore. And there’s the fact that Severus would know who it is... Because back in fourth year, Draco went to his office (crying) and yelled at him about how utterly barbaric the first task was in that bloody tournament. He also demanded that Potter to be disqualified right there and then, to which his godfather responded:

“I will not let him die. He has to compete, there is no other option. Breathe, Draco.” He made a small pause and looked at him with kind eyes. “You foolish child... how long have you kept this inside?” And Draco started to cry even harder.

At least Mr Potter and Sirius seemed to be blind about the whole thing. They still, occasionally, joke about Weasley being his secret love. How can someone see him around Potter and not know? He even feels embarrassed about how obvious it is. Specially living at Grimmauld, because he could call him all the mean names he wanted but he was in Potter’s house . He couldn’t bully him in there or ignore him because it would be rude and it would hurt Sirius’s and Mr. Potter’s feelings.

Just a couple of weeks and they would be back at school. Not petals yet, even though the coughs were getting worst.

He just needed a distraction, to take a walk, whatever. He had a plan. Next week the twins would open the shop at diagon alley and he was determined to go. And because he knew that te answer was going to be ‘No, kid, it’s too dangerous’ he made a list of precautions that he promised to follow:

1. Mr. Potter and Sirius would come

2. I will change my hair color (black) with cosmetic charms

3. I will use Sirius old muggle clothes (because they will never suspect it)

4. It would be a short visit (an hour and a half)

5. In case something happens and I get caught I will not hold you responsible for that and I highly recommend to be obliviated so they can’t torture me for information.

He put that same list in front of Severus, Sirius and Mr Potter.

“No. Go upstairs, you are interrupting a meeting”

“I hate to agree with him but no, cousin.”

Draco rolled his eyes and groaned. It was just this thing! He never asked for anything. They were so unfair.

“I actually don’t see anything bad with it”

Mr Potter was an angel on earth. Draco smiled brightly at him. The other two men were looking at him, furiously.

“It may have slipped your notice, Potter, but you do not have a good radar for deathly situations.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Mr Potter face changed and looked with a severe face at him.

“I would recommend you to shut your greasy mouth, Snivellus.”

Draco frowned. He never called Severus names, it was a force of habit because of Lily. His godfather really had upset him. And something shifted in the potions professor too, something like pain and guilt. He closed his eyes and sighed before turning to Draco again.

“ONE hour. And you put something on your face that makes them think you are someone else.”

Draco nodded quickly. Pansy had taught him how to do his eyes, she had given him a shadow palet last year. With that, the muggle clothes and the black hair he would be safe for sure. Sirius interrupted them.

“How did I turned out to be the only responsible adult around here? This is a bad idea and I’M saying it!”

Draco 01- Adults 00

——————————

‘This is so bloody weird’ . Draco looked at his reflection on the mirror. The black color of his hair highlighted his skin tone and made the grey of his eyes stand out more. He kind of looked like Regulus.

He put some make up on too, black eyeliner and used a little blue metallic eyeshadow, very soft, to cover his eyes a little more. If someone would say he looked stupid, he could say that Severus made him do this. They didn’t need to know that Draco loved putting make up on.

Sirius had lend him a ‘Bowie t-shirt’ (which he still didn’t understand what it was, apparently some singer that muggles liked), some light-blue jeans that were ripped on the front and a pair of combat boots. He looked good. He thought it would be too weird but the style suited him rather nicely.

“Kid! Come on, everyone is already there.” Mr. Potter screamed from downstairs.He grabbed his wand and left his room.

“Hey, Sirius! I brought your brother back too!”

“IF YOU DID BLOOD MAGIC I’LL-“

And then he stopped talking when he saw Draco. His mouth was open and he had a disbelief look on his eyes. He could see the tears starting to appear on his eyes.

“You look just like him... I mean, not the clothes but-“ He could hear his voice cracking. His cousin reach to touch his face and his hair. “Prongs can you come, please?” Now Sirius was absolutely crying and Draco felt bad about joking about it before. Mr. Potter came running then.

“Padfoot? Why are you crying... Oh”

“He looks just like him, doesn’t he? Like if Regulus was using my clothes.” He said between tears.

Mr. Potter nodded and pulled Sirius into a hug. He kept whispering things to calm him down and at some point his cousin relaxed. It always surprised him how well he knew Sirius. When he was sad, when he was happy, when he was pissed off (and didn’t tell anyone)... James always knew, and he always knew what to do about it.

He would never regret making that deal. Never. How could he? He didn’t know Sirius without James and he didn’t want to.

After Sirius washed his face, they left the house. They apparated to the shop and got in as quickly as possible, the more eyes they avoided the better, but when they got in the place was crowded.

“It’s okay, kid. Just be careful. We will be here if anything happens.” He nodded at Mr. Potter and left to find the Gryffindors. It was bloody difficult with so many people there. Suddenly someone grabbed his arm, he turned to look, it was Potter.

“I though the whole point of you using this stuff was to not attract attention.” He said in a low voice. Draco frown at him.

“The whole point was not to look like me, and I don’t.” He said as pointed to his outfit and make up.

“Of course you look like you! And this is not blending in, Malfoy.” Potter hissed at him. So Potter thought he looked horrible. ‘ Don’t cough. Don’t cough. Don’t cough ’. He pulled his arm away from the boy and crossed his arms, uncomfortable.

“Sweet Merlin, you are on muggle clothes!” He heard Weasley when he appeared beside him, he was jumping on his spot like a bloody child. Draco rolled his eyes. “We should send a picture to Charlie!”

Potter pulled a disgusted face at that. Draco had this theory that Potter was a little disgusted by homosexuality. He wasn’t going to say that being gay was a bad thing, but if someone acted on it or talked about acting on it... He would react like this. Crossing his arms, looking away, making disgusted faces or changing the subject completely.

“ It’s a joke, Potter.” The green eyed boy had an annoyed expression on his face anyway. Draco turned to look at Weasley, maybe he knew why his best friend was so pissed off, but the redhead just shrugged.

They started walking so Draco could take a look around the place. It was so colorful. It seemed as if there was only happiness in the shop. Everyone was laughing, having a good time, and Ron told him that the sales were going pretty well from what he knew.

The three of them were looking at the Pygmy Puff section. Draco couldn’t understand how such a little thing could be so cute and fluffy. Weasley didn’t seemed to understand how fascinated he was with the creature, he kept asking if he was planning on passing the entire hour looking at balls of fur(to which Draco responded that it was a possibility, yes).

“Draco? Is that you?” He froze. He knew that voice. Potter and Weasley were with their wands on their hands already, just in case. He turned to see the boy and casted a muffliato around them so they could not be heard.

“Blaise. Hi.” He said with a small voice. It’s not like Blaise would do anything to him, as far as he knew, his family was neutral in the last war. It shouldn’t be different now.

Blaise was so handsome. Sometimes Draco thought so much about Potter, that he would forget that there were other attractive people on the planet. Looking at Blaise right now, he remembered why he was the first option on his list.

The boy was about the same hight as Draco. His dark skin looked so smooth, inviting to be touched. His deep dark eyes were looking at him as if he was in shock. Then Blaise smiled at him so brightly that it seemed to light up the whole room. He pulled Draco into a bone crushing hug while he was lifting him a little. His feet weren’t touching the ground, Blaise was so strong...

“Thank Merlin you are alive. Pansy will kill you for running away. You know that, right? Months and not even a letter saying that you didn’t die.”

He hugged Blaise back a little tighter, trying to convince him in that same hug that he was safe, that he shouldn’t worry.

“I’m hiding, I can’t send owls. I’m sorry, darling” He always used pet names with Pansy and Blaise. It was an habit that he got from his mother, she would always praise the ones she loved. She said it reminded them that they were importan to us, special.

“You look great, you know? I thought you were a random pretty guy. I was coming here to seduce you with my charms” Draco chuckled at that. Blaise put him down and looked at him with warm eyes. “This suits you, Dragon. I approve.”

Draco smiled at him and did a little twirl. He heard someone groaned behind him and he turned around.

“I haven’t seen my friends in two months, either you are patient and let me talk or you leave.” Weasley had his hands up as if he was saying ‘Not me,mate, I don’t care’ but Potter on the other hand was frowning at him.

“You shouldn’t be talking at all. He could tell someone he saw you with us. I don’t like it.” Draco glared at him.

“First: I don’t think the Zabini family will get involved in all of this. Second of all, Potter: who the hell asked for your opinion?” And that did it, because the green eyed boy looked so pissed off that he turned around and left. Weasley sighed and said that he was going to talk to him, see what the problem was. Draco nodded and said that he’ll be right there, just a few more minutes.

“Well, that was something I’ve never thought I’ll see. Potter being protective of you, I mean.” Draco chuckled and shook his head.

“ I think he’s worried that I’ll get kidnapped and they will know everything I know now.”

Blaised looked at him with an amused expression and shook his head.

“If you say so...”

They talked a little more, Draco promised to sit with him and Pansy on the train as always and asked Blaise to not say a word to anyone that he saw him, not even Pansy. Blaise complained a little but agreed.

“Just be careful.”

Draco nodded and gave him one last hug before he went looking for the Gryffindors.

He found them with Granger and Ginevra by the Amortentia fountain. Potter didn’t even looked at him. The twins were making fun of their sister because of Thomas. Draco being bored grabbed a little vial and opened it.

He knew he would smell Potter in there, he just didn’t know how. He put the vial in front of his nose and breathed in the potion. It was marvelous. Something sweet, like treacle tart. There was also the smell of fresh cut grass mixed with broom polish... like the quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. The last one was Potter’s cologne, which Draco thought it was ridiculous because it was the cheapest thing ever. The things that attracted him the most were all Potter. He sighed, the soft tickles started to act up. Please, not now.

He saw Potter frowning at his vial. Draco was sure he would regret it, but he walked around the fountain to stand next him.

“You look unhappy, Scarhead. What did you smelled there? “

“It’s none of you business, Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes. They stood quietly there, hearing Weasley bickering with Granger about nonsense. A few moments later the dark haired boy spoke.

“This could be wrong, right? Like if it wasn’t brewed properly” Potter kept looking down, cute blush on his face. Draco smirked at him.

“If it wasn’t brewed properly you wouldn’t smell anything, besides, I smelled it too and it works fine. Believe me.”

Apparently it wasn’t what Potter wanted to hear because he blushed even harder and put the vial down.

“Really, Potter, why is it such a big deal?” The boy shrugged.

“If you mock me about it and I will hex you, Malfoy” The tickles on his ribs were even harder.

“Out with it. I promise I’ll keep my mouth shut.” The green eyed boy looked at him and took a step forward so he could lower his voice. He was looking at the rest of the Gryffindors that were on the other side of the fountain, as if he was making sure they weren’t going to be heard.

“One was Treacle tart... the other was the woody scent of a broomstick handle and” Potter looked down and muttered: “something flowery thats from the burrow.”

Draco just stood there. It was Ginevra. Of course it was. And Potter really had feelings for her because otherwise he wouldn’t had smelled her in the stupid vial. The strong tickles started, and they were worst than ever. He shouldn’t had asked. How fucking stupid could he be, Merlin. The first cough came out and he tried to push down the rest, to calm himself down, but it was useless. Draco was having a coughing fit and he just couldn’t stop.

“Malfoy? Do you need water?” Potter had a worried look in his eyes and he reach out to touch Draco’s back. He moved away quickly. If he touched him right then, it would be worst. Suddenly Ron was grabbing his face.

“Ferret, focus. What can we do?”

He couldn’t stop coughing, his lungs where burning. Shit. Not now, just a few more weeks, please . He forced his voice out, it came out very rough and affected.

“Sirius.” And Ron was yelling at Potter to look for him and Mr. Potter and to take them outside of the shop, while he took Draco there too. He was still coughing and making his best effort not to cry from pain. It burned so fucking much.

When they got outside the three of them were already there waiting for him.

“Kid? Do you hear me? We are going to apparate you home, don’t freak out.” He turned to look at Potter who was arguing with Sirius that he should go back with them (his cousin didn’t agreed). “Harry, stay with Ron. Please. We’ll go get you at the burrow later.” and he took Draco’s hand and apparated to Grimmauld place.

The moment Draco put a foot inside the house he ran to the bathroom and locked the door. He kept coughing but now he didn’t have to hide it, so it was a little better.

He looked down at the sink and there it was: a single flower petal covered in blood. He opened the tap and washed it so he could see it better.

It was a little yellow daffodil petal, also known as narcissus. He knew what it meant because of mother: it could be rebirth and new beginnings or it was also a symbol of unrequited love. He clearly new which meaning it had. Draco heard a knock on the door, so he quickly vanished the petal away. Both men entered.

“Are you alright? That was a really bad one...” Asked Mr. Potter.

Draco just nodded and said that he was better now.

“Did you cough any petals yet?”

He should tell them. He knew he should. But he couldn’t risked it. If Severus found out, it would be awful. He would be treated as if he was weak: they wouldn’t let him go to Hogsmeade without supervision, they would kick him out of the team and everyone would look at him with such pity. It wasn’t an option. Draco shook his head.

“No. Don’t worry, it’s still only the coughs”

And then he smiled at them.

#drarry #fanfic #fanfiction #prongsfoot

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ijenblue · 5 years ago

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Save the Good News for Friday

24YrOld!Giorno x Pregnant!Reader

“Eh?!”

“(y/n)? Is something wrong?”

“B-Bucciarati...I’m hallucinating! There are too many lines here!” You shout at the shut door, fingers trembling and fumbling with the fifth pregnancy test. All the pink instruments laid splayed out in the sink with the same perfectly parallel lines. Your frantic eyes glanced at the lines again and again, hoping and praying that one of the lines would fade away or that Bucciarati would come in saying ‘it was all a joke I faked the tests’. But neither happened.

“Bucciarati your playing with me...right?”

“Of course not. Why would I joke around about something so important?” He shouts back at you through the bathroom door, and you feel your breakfast start to resurface. “A-Are you..?” He asks nervously, not wanting to finish the question for fear of the truth. When he hears the sounds of you retching he’s quick to open the door and stand by your side, holding your hair up for you and rubbing your back gently. He didn’t need to hear you say it; Bruno had guessed you might be pregnant after he started taking notice of your unusual snack requests and how often you excused yourself just to immediately get sick in the bathroom. He was the one that bought the five tests and shut you in the bathroom.

Once you finished up and gargled mouth wash, you slowed your rapid heart and sat back on the bathroom floor, trying to curl into a ball in the corner.

“What am I going to do Bucciarati!” You sobbed and brought your knees up to bury your face in them, letting the tears flow freely as you thought of all the bad omens surrounding you and your newly discovered child.”I-I’m too young! I can’t raise a kid right now.”

“Well, you should talk to the Father. I’m sure Giorno would be delighted-”

“Giorno! I can’t tell Giorno! He can’t have that kind of weight on his shoulders right now, h-he’s a Don!”

“That doesn’t excuse him from taking responsibility. Besides, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Slowly, you lifted your head to search his sapphire eyes for a lie. And when you found none, you felt your breathing slow and your tremors come to a stop. He’s right, maybe your nerves just got to you before your reason could. But even reason can’t sugar coat your unexpected pregnancy. A lot of work needed to be done before then.

“Okay, I’ll tell him later.” Bucciarati pondered your answer and then immediately protested.

“No. Wait till the end of the week.”

“Why?”

“Because we always like to save the good news for Fridays.” He says with a smile. “He’ll be busy all week so at least on Friday you’ll have his complete attention.” You nod and stand with the help of Bruno who had been nothing but helpful whenever you were troubled. You placed a gentle hand on your stomach and didn’t notice when a smile crawled up your face, but Bruno did. And he was sure your child would light up both of your lives like the angel you needed.

You separated with the secret kept between you two but as the week went by, your secret came closer and closer to spilling.

That night when you saw Giorno, he commented on your strange change of palet. He picked up your disgusted face at dinner and asked why you seemed so displeased with dinner despite the food being one of your favorites. You sweat a little nervous and then replied ‘Maybe my tastebuds change’ despite 7 years not going by.

On Tuesday Giorno found you writing names in a notebook. He was curious, asking why you were writing them and you nervously stuttered out that you were writing a story. He smiles and points to one name and says "Bellona is a pretty name." And you're not sure why, but suddenly you hope that you are blessed with a daughter.

On Wednesday you were approached by Mista as he teased "A little birdie told me we might have a mini GioGio on the way". You turn into a blushing mess before you grab him by the ear and pull him down so he can hear you clearly:

"If you tell Giorno I will kill you." You whisper before Giorno rounds the corner and asks what's going on. You glare at Mista and soon the two of you are claiming you were just in friendly disagreement.

On Thursday, you and Giorno enjoyed an especially beautiful brunch together. You sat in the gardens and shared a lovely conversation that had your heart beating. He seemed especially intimate, singing his love with words that you could feel, admiring your beauty and listening to you talk about your week so far. He even held your hand as you sat on one of the stone benches to study the lively garden. Your head on his shoulder and the forgiving sunlight of late-mornings kissing you both.

You spoke of the future very lightly. You didn’t want to bring work into this but you were curious as to what he wants to do now. And he smiles as tells you that all of his plans involve you.

“I think I’m ready for something more.”

“I’m sure it’s you. It’ll always be you.”

And you want to burst into tears right there. Your heart swells with happiness because now you knew he wanted this family too. You almost broke and told him straight then but in the back of your head Bucciarati reminded you:

Save the good news for Friday

And when Friday came, you woke late into the morning with your skin naturally glowing. Giorno was missing from beside you but that was normal in the mornings. He liked to beat the sun on most days.

The house was empty; not even Mista could be found roaming the halls. The silence did little to comfort you, leaving you quickly looking to the Don for company. When you found him sitting silently in his private Library with his nose in a book, you ran your hands down his bare shoulders and felt the addicting warmth his body gave up. You planted a kiss on his cheek and he responded by bringing his hand up to cup your face and guide your lips back to his.

“Buon Giorno mia vita.” He says with a kiss

“Buon Giorno amore mio. How is your morning?” You ask as you slide gingerly into the only other seat in the room meant only for you.

“Beautiful, now that you’re here.” He flirts as he sets down the heavy leather of the book and turns his full attention to you. Giorno’s ocean eyes take a moment to study you and you subconsciously shift in your seat when you feel them land on your fuller hips and recently aching breasts; you think for a moment that maybe he was noticing a little too much.

He was observant, and you were nearly 3 months in so you were bound to look like you had put on a little weight. Something like that would never get past him.

“Is there something on your mind?” He asks softly while bringing a gentle hand to envelop yours. You're sure he feels how warm your skin becomes; but now is as good as time as it’s ever going to be. The longer the wait the more time you had to overthink everything.

“Yes, actually. You know...I feel like this room is missing something.”

“Missing something?” He echoed, making sure he heard you correctly.

“Yeah. I think we need another chair here.” You said pointing to the space between the two of you. “I think we’re gonna need it soon.”

He gives you a weird look and stares at the space between you, bringing his hand to his chin in thought. No one was allowed in this room, only recently did Giorno even allow you to step foot in here. This was because he wanted a room that was meant for family only, where he could keep his most personal belongings. It was a relaxing space but it only had two chairs for the two people who were allowed past the doors.

It takes him a moment, but soon he turns to you with the most excited smile gracing his perfect features and asks: “Are we having company soon?”

You nod and smile at his stunned reaction. But he’s quick to stand bringing you with him and soon wrapping you in a tight hug. He lets his hand travel down to rest on your stomach so he can feel the life pulsating from withing you.

“Thank you for this blessing.” He whispers, warming your heart. And you think to your self that things couldn’t possibly get better in the arms of your soul mate.

But then something falls from his pajama pants pocket and skips twice before coming to a halt close by. Your attention is turned to the sound and your eyes narrow at the small box.”What’s that?” you ask.

“W-we...” He manages to stutter out, bringing his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I guess you weren’t the only one with good news this Friday”.

#giorno giovanna #jojo part 5 #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #domestic #jojo imagines #scenarios #sfw

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timpendragon · 6 years ago

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Hellboy (2019) review.

I just got home from watching Hellboy, so here's my 99% spoiler-free review.

2003 called, it wants its Razzie nominee back.

Unfortunately, this iteration of Hellboy is without a doubt the biggest disappointment we will have in cinemas this year. Whatever goodwill Lionsgate Films had accumulated since they stopped *just* being the low-budget schlock house is not only expended, but woefully overdrawn by this bloated mess.

The title character and his sidekicks are legitimately good characters, played by good actors, who do the best they can with utterly garbage material and the most hackish, unimaginative, paint-by-numbers direction I've ever seen, and yes, I've seen Neil Marshall's previous work. This makes Centurion look like Gladiator, and Doomsday look like Mad Max: Fury Road.

To call the plot bad is a disservice to bad plots everywhere. This story wishes it was good enough to merely bad, but expends no effort in making the attempt. There's a quest element that's set up in the opening narration that *should* have taken the film up through act two, at least, but is dispensed with so quickly it may as well not have existed in the first place. From then on the characters flounder around with no direction, moving from one scene to another not by any virtue of their abilities, or research, or investigation of any clues, but by facts *literally* dropping onto the table as the plot needs. From astral visitations to random news broadcasts seen at just the right moment, the characters go in circles until the plot hands them answers that the audience was privy to *in the opening scene*. Worse yet, that scene was narrated by one of the characters, and referenced by several, so the deus ex machina plot dump only provided them information that by rights they should have already known. Every thing moves ahead by coincidence or convenience, not through any logical action or reaction by the characters.

From a technical perspective, the film is just as bad. The cinematography is monotonous and bland, and the color palete is given one of those passe bleach-bypass treatments that renders everything so utterly lifeless and washed-out it makes the Underworld films seem as bright and vibrant as Aquaman, Shazam and the best of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

The action sequences and fight scenes are atrocious. Horribly choreographed, horribly shot, horribly edited with every move rote, every beat telegraphed, every shot poorly framed, and horrendously edited. Steady-cam used when a jittery POV shot would actually have pulled us in, jump cuts so bad you can't follow the action, all of which is clearly an attempt to cover CGI that would have been cheap and awful even in the days before Peter Jackson taught people how it should be done.

The pointless overload of cartoonish gore only exists to force an R-rating for a film that clearly wants to appeal to Deadpool fans, but fails to capture that audience due to a total lack of creativity, originality or personality.

Speaking of lack of personality, the villain has none whatsoever. I have never felt so sorry for Milla Jovovich in a film before. She has literally *nothing* to work with here. Her character talks constantly without actually *saying* anything meaningful, and is as generic and bland a stock horror movie sorceress as exists in any medium.

What makes Hellboy so disappointing isn't just that it's a B-movie, or a generic monster movie, or even a failure. It is all of those things, but it's greatest sin is that it isn't any of those things in a contemporary way. It's an utterly generic failure of a B-movie from 15 FREAKING YEARS AGO. It's a complete regression of filmmaking, and belongs in the era with League of Extraordinary Gentleman and Van Helsing, but can't even aspire to that level of entertainment. This thing literally makes even the theatrical cut of Ben Affleck's Daredevil look like sheer genius.

The only redeeming facets of the movie are the practical makeup effects -- which are top-notch -- and as I said before, the main characters and their actors. There are some legitimately good humorous moments between the main trio, and one honest to God good scene with great character development which just happens to be a flashback that has little to do with the rest of the film, but provides a bit of actual motivation, if not any real depth, to Hellboy, Alice, and the secondary villain all at once.

I feel so sorry that a good Hellboy -- and a great Alice Monaghan and Ben Daimio -- and their respective actors along with Ian McShane and Milla Jovovich, are trapped in this otherwise unmitigated disaster.

I meant what I said about 2003. This film is not only stuck fifteen years in the past, but so poorly-crafted it would legitimately have given Gigli a run for its money as the worst of the year.

#Hellboy #film #film review #reviews #bad movies #my post #razzie #new movies #superheroes

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puckyeahhockey · 6 years ago

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Don’t Quit Hockey {T. Wilson}

Requested: yes/no

anon: Can you do 13 and 29 for tom wilson pls?

Word Count: 877

A/N: Im sorry this is really really bad

“Hey, I thought we were having a lazy day?” Tom asked you with a confused look on his face. You and Tom had planned to stay home and rest since hockey was officially over for the season and he and the team had been shitfaced for a few days. He had on a simple t-shirt and sweats while you had on one of his shirts and a pair of leggings since neither of you planned to go anywhere. Since Tom was engulfed in what was on TV, you decided to experiment with some new makeup looks in your room.

“Yeah we are,” you replied matching his confusion as you began to set up what you needed.

“Lazy days equal no makeup though because it's just you and me baby,” he whispered biting his lip trying to pull you from what you were doing.

“I just want to try and find some new looks. I'm getting bored with the usual,” you explained wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a quick peck on the lips before going back to what you were doing.

“How about I give you a new look?” he offered spinning you around and switching positions to where you were the one standing and he was against the counter. You were tempted to do it but knowing him you’d end up in bed only a few minutes in but you could also get ideas from his attempt.

“Don't mess up my makeup or you're dead,” you threatened throwing in a playful wink at the end.

“Ah yes and now time for some eyeshadow,” he explained to you mimicking a makeup guru.

“Please don't poke my eyes out or make me look crazy because everything else has been questionable,” you chirped. You and your boyfriend had been sitting on the bedroom floor for what felt like ages. Believe it or not Tom actually paid attention to how I got ready and wasn't doing as bad as you thought. He had the general order of things and had some technique but no judgement of amounts.

“Let’s go with this purple,” he announced allowing you to see the color he chose while he filed through your brushes. Here is where things were going to go down hill and probably fast. Tom picked on of the darker colors of the palet to start with.

“Alright eyes closed,” he requested and you did so. You felt him pat the brush tip on your eyelids a few times and then claimed he was finished. You couldn't even begin to imagine how patchy it probably looked.

“What’s the thing for your eyelashes?” he asked shifting through your makeup that was practically empty due to everything being on the floor. You saw the mascara right in front of him by the eyeliner. Once he realized it wasn't in the bag he tossed it across the room as he turned his attention to the floor.

“I can't find it so we just aren’t going to do it,” he laughed. You could tell he was getting frustrated because he’s really trying and it's just not working in his favor. He began to pack some of your things up to be put away when you realized something.

“No eyeliner?” you asked. He picked it up without even having to look more than three seconds for it, which was still next to the mascara. He patted his leg for you to rest your head on. You were hesitant letting him do it in this position but what's the worst that could happen. He began to draw the line but was putting a little too much pressure causing you to shift to try and avoid it a bit.

“Would you just hold still?” he shouted laughing at what had just done.

“What?” you asked nervously as he was starting to laugh harder. He just shook his head no and move on to your other eye. “I immediately regret this decision,” you stated for him.

“Hey, you're getting options with this eyeliner because I don't think I can match it.”

Tom finished his look off with some pink lip gloss. He took a minute to admire what he had just done for the past, almost, two hours.

“I did a really bad job but I tried and you look hot,” he admitted not taking his eyes off of you. You got up from the floor and walked over to the body mirror on the wall. When you saw the damage, you couldn't help but laugh at what he did. Just like you suspected the eyeshadow was extremely patchy, your foundation was either super cakey or it was nonexistent. Your cheeks looked sunburnt from the amount of blush he put and your eyeliner was just a disaster. One went out past your eyebrow and was thicker than peanut butter while the other was a single line with little thickness that was about as straight as a circle.

“Well?” Tom asked wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his head on yours.

“Well as far as I saw my makeup is still intact which is amazing. This is.... definitely a look,” you smiled. “Don't quit hockey baby please.”

#tom wilson imagine #tom wilson #washington capitals #Washington Capitals imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl blurb #hockey imagines #imagine #blurbs #hockey blurb #hockey #stanley cup champions #puckyeahhockey #pyh imagines #pyh imagine

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crankyjoness · 6 years ago

Text

Paintings, Poems & Flower Crowns

Day 5 of Tyrus Week 2018: “AU”

I’m a day late (again), whoops 😅

Also available on AO3. It’s an alternate universe where TJ is a painter and Cyrus a poet who likes making flower crowns 😇 English isn’t my first language, so sorry for any mistakes xx

The colours of the brush infected the canvas, creating curves and lines. Mixed together, they were showing a boy. His brown hair were falling a little bit on his forehead and his dark eyes could put you in a daze. At least, that was TJ’s opinion.

TJ was a painter who had for only principle to paint everything that would naturally attract his eye. He remembered the first time he ever let the brushes speak for him. It was about ten years ago, he was only a young middle-schooler back then. But he could still remember the feeling of freedom he felt that day. The feeling of being able to do anything. Since that day, he never stopped painting.

TJ also remembered the first time he saw that brunet. He looked like an angel, alone, walking among the colourful flowers. He found him beautiful, so beautiful. He was painting the flowers at first, but that boy was definitely prettier. So he painted him. And, since that day, he never stopped painting him.

The figures on the canvas started to make sense and, soon enough, a face was visible. His face. In two weeks, TJ had painted at least seven portraits of the boy. All showed different positions, different poses. For example, the first one he painted was him standing in the middle of flowers. The second one was his back. The third one, him sat down against a tree with a notebook and a pen in his hands. Every time his brush touched the fabric, TJ feared the colours wouldn’t be able to stay true to the boy’s beauty. But it always was. Now, it was him wearing a flower crown. He had noticed him making one just yesterday, and the idea stayed stuck in his head all night.

TJ caught himself wondering why he hadn’t paid attention to him before. He looked familiar, as if he already saw him somewhere else than this flowerbed. But it didn’t really matter because, now, he had noticed him. He may not know his name, but he knew his face and his curves almost as well as he knew his brushes. He could paint him with his eyes closed. Which was a little bit creepy, thinking about it.

The next day, TJ went to the flowerbed and sat down on a bench—the same bench as every other day. His eyes saw the brunet and stayed stuck on him for a minute. He was here early, today. Usually, he would arrive about fifteen minutes after TJ. It didn’t matter, though; that way, he would be too deep into whatever he was writing on his notebook to actually pay attention to him.

But, as soon as he took out a sketchbook and a few brushes, he felt something on him. A stare. At first, TJ decided not to do anything. It was just a feeling, after all. He took out his brand new watercolour palet which he bought just yesterday and was really excited to try. Every painting of the boy he did here was on canvas and with acrylic paint, so he thought he could do something different for once—even though the latest pages of his sketchbook were already all about the brunet. As he spread a thin layer of water on the paper, the feeling didn’t go away. TJ tried to ignore it and played with different shades of blues to do the background. That was so disturbing. TJ shot his head up and caught a boy—the boy—staring at him. So it wasn’t just a feeling, then.

The brunet looked down on his notebook for a few seconds and closed it before getting up. TJ couldn’t rid himself of looking at him. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice. Or he just didn’t care—that was a possibility.

But all chances disappeared when the boy looked up at TJ and started heading toward him. Panic set up in his mind. What should he do? Throw his sketchbook and the canvas away? Quickly draw something that had nothing to do with him? His questions were shut down by a low voice.

“Can I sit?”

TJ came back to reality and saw the brunet standing right in front of him, subtly eyeing his art supplies.

“Uh, yeah, of course.”

He put his backpack on the floor so that there was room for the boy on his left. The brunet sat down and looked now openly at the blue watercolour on his sketchbook.

“It’s pretty,” he complimented.

“It’s nothing yet, just a basic background. But thanks.” TJ shot an awkward smile. Truth was, he really didn’t want this to be awkward. But what else could he do when the prettiest boy he had ever seen was sitting next to him and actually talking to him?

“You know, I’ve seen you watching me,” the boy blurted out and TJ couldn’t help the red from spreading on his cheeks.

“I… I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s okay.” The boy let out a hushed laugh. “It’d be pretty hypocritical of me to be mad at you.”

“What do you mean?” TJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Well,” he started, “I’ve been watching you, too.”

“That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” the painter nervously laughed, looking down at the blue mess on his paper.

“I think you’re pretty.” His eyes widened. “Like, really pretty.”

“…What?”

“Please, don’t make me say this twice,” he begged. “I’ve been writing poems about you.”

“I… don’t know what to say,” TJ admitted, blushing like crazy.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just… thought I needed to tell you.” The boy handed the notebook he had been writing in for the last two weeks. “Here, you can read them.”

TJ looked at the notebook and took it carefully. For a second, he hesitated; should he show the brunet the sketches he had done of him? It would be wrong to lie to him.

“I… I need to tell you something as well.” TJ held his now closed sketchbook to the boy. “It sounds so creepy, I’m so sorry. But… I’ve been drawing you. And it’s only like, half of them.”

He took it and opened it slowly. The beginning of it was just casual sketches of flowers, figures or original characters. But, soon enough, he reached the part of it where it was only him. TJ couldn’t see his reaction, so he opened the notebook to a random page. The words were beautifully written with a black ink and, at the bottom of the page, there was a name.

“Cyrus…” TJ whispered softly, letting the word roll on his tongue.

“That’s my name.” The boy looked up and saw the poet smile. “And I assume yours is TJ.”

The painter nodded. “Your writing’s beautiful.”

“So are your artworks.”

“It’s because I had a beautiful model.” TJ wanted to hit his head against the wall. What did he just say!?

Cyrus started blushing and looked down at TJ’s sketches. He nervously turned the pages. “I did something for you.”

“You did?”

He nodded, still not looking at him, and leaned down to search his bag. He sat up straight once he had between his hands a flower crown. “I… I made it for you.”

TJ’s heart melted. That was the most adorable gift he’d ever had. “Thank you.”

Cyrus put it on his head with a small blush on his cheeks. “You like it?”

The painter looked up, fixing it so that it wouldn’t fall. “I love it.”

“Thanks,” he smiled.

“And I actually have something for you, too. Remember when I told you those were only half of the drawings? Well, the other half is at my house. And I want you to see them—and even take them if you’d like. So, I was wondering if you’d like to come over? Like, now? And we could, I don’t know… watch a movie afterwards?” The boy couldn’t believe he just let those words leave his mouth. But regret faded away when he saw a smile growing on Cyrus’ face.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool,” he smiled. “It’s a date.”

Cyrus’ lips slightly parted but then turned into a small smile. “It’s a date.”

TJ took his sketchbook back and gave the brunet his notebook before tidying all his things and getting up. He started walking but noticed no one was following him. He looked back, turning his body just a little bit.

“You coming?” TJ bit his lip softly.

“Uh, y… yeah.”

Cyrus got up and walked until he stood next to TJ. Then, he hesitantly took his hand. All tension left his body when he looked up at the boy who wore a shy smile on his face, along with a blush.

Neither of them knew it at that moment, but they had just found the love of their life.

#tyrus week 2018 #tyrus #painter x poet au

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hbprophetie · 2 years ago

Note

Aww cool, thank you very much for the tag @snapeysister. 😁 Again again, I don't really know what is appropriate to do or not with tag games, so I apologize if I did something wrong, but I prefered to link the thread in spite of reblogging the whole thing as I find threads to easily become tricky to scroll down... ^^'

Anyway, let's enter this tag game with the top favorite Harry Potter characters! :)

I'm actually pretty confident of who my top 5 consist of, but selecting the following was kind of a challenge! So here they are:

1) Severus Snape

2) Albus Dumbledore

3) Harry Potter

4) Remus Lupin

5) Minerva Mcgonagall

6) Fred & Georges Weasley (Or Ron. I wish I could choose all the Weasley family tbh)

7) Luna Lovegood

8) Ron Weasley

9) Hermione Granger

10) Neville Longottom

Honestly it's very hard to rank the Hogwarts students as they're basically your classmates and friends for all of the magical journey through the books. Therefore it's hard to not include Hermione or Neville on the list as I feel more attached to them than to less present characters, even if those can be more interesting in terms of writting.

But as honorable mentions, I really want to bring out Abelforth Dumbledore and Moody Mad Eye, as I think they are both awesome characters who greatly contribute to bring a more serious tone to the saga and are an introduction to what is beyond the boundaries of what Harry can see from his student perspective (the full extend of the war, the politics, the Order of the Phoenix are a few instances). Hagrid and Lily are certainly worth mentioning too.

Also note that I love most of the Harry Potter crew, so if you don't see Ginny or Tonks here that doesn't mean I dislike them, I pretty much like them a lot actually. I just prefered to give the spot to the characters I am most attached to or find truly entertaining.

But Harry Potter is a series that is filled with a marvelousely diversified and colorfull palet of characters. Most of them are multi layered and have their own complexity, while those who are less developped are unique enough to be lovable. Even if I have my personal bias, all of them are certainly worth being someone's favorite. Except Umbridge I suppose, as JKR let her very little space to be even merely appreciated by anyone.

@dementedlollipop, @snapesnailtape, @snapientia, @half-blood-slytherpuff @ottogatto, or whoever sees this post (and I'm sure I miss a lot of persons who could be interested), if that's something that fancies you do not hesitate to give it a try! ;-)

Even for tag games I talk too much I'm sorry. ;_;

What's your top 10 Harry Potter favorite characters?

Thanks for the ask, @nuninho2000!

I guess, in order, they'll be:

Harry

Ginny

James

Lily (Honestly, the top four can be interchanged. I don't have a fixed order)

Sirius

Ron

Remus

Tonks (If anyone has good Tonks and Harry as siblings/friends fic recs, I'd love it if you put them in the comments!)

Minerva

Fred and George (let's consider them as one)

There really are a lot more I want to add, so honorable mentions, I guess, to Luna, Neville, Bill and Fleur.

I really like this, so I'll be tagging a few people! :)

@nuninho2000 @griffin-d00r @i-never-really-gave-up-on-you @blinkngone @everythinghasreason

#harry potter community #harry potter #tag game #potterhead

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bunny-wk-fanfic · 6 years ago

Note

Here is this scenario for you, Kagome now immortal and Ward to Lord Sesshomaru has convinced her Lord that they should to travel and see the world. Of course Sesshomaru see's this is a perfect opportunity to establish trade roots with the futuristic knowledge of his Ward so he agreed and join her. On root they come across a small dingy with a man claiming one Captain Jack Sparrow in need of help and of Wagoner can't wait to get started on another Adventure.

I hope this is something you imagined, and that you enjoy it!

She had lived through a lot, not surprising having fallen into the past, learn she was the guardian of an ancient and powerful artifact, and becoming its eternal guardian. Currently, as Sesshoumaru’s ward and friend, they were traveling the Atlantic to the ‘New World’. At least a part of it, the more tropical area of it. The Caribbean.

The trip would have been more enjoyable, had it been done via a cruise ship or airplane, but she was around two centuries too earlier for that. Souta would have loved the idea to travel on a ‘pirate ship’, as all ships of this era looked thus and were called that. She could prove him wrong. The cramped quarters, the lack of freedom, the fear during storms, the limited food, and water. She was looking forward to when they finally docked the new world.

If Sesshoumaru didn’t promise to put aside whatever he made with her help in the business investments they were going to make for her and her own family, she would have waved him farewell from Europe. But, immortals could only stay so long in one place before the questions started, and the Americas offered whole new horizons.

“Man o’er board!” the call her Kagome jumping back into reality, eyes blinking as she searched for both the caller and what they said.

“Man o’er board!” the call had the men scrabbling in action, Kagome moving to the side to make room, finally spotting what had caught the caller’s attention.

There, in the middle of nowhere, was dingy. A barely held together raft of a lifeboat really. In it, a man, waving a languid arm with his hand flip-flopping. As Kagome leaned against the railing, she could just make out mumbled words. Something about rotten eggs? Her eyes were sharp as she watched them pull the man on board, taking in his state as well as the way he was dressed.

His face was flushed red and peeling from sun exposure, lips chapped from dehydration, and he was also on the thin side from malnutrition. The men let him slip from their hold, letting him land in a crumpled heap at their feet without a care while the checked the… floatation device he had used.

Picking up her skirts, Kagome approached her nature to see to the needs of others still strong despite her long life and ever changing and adapting. At this point, Sesshoumaru had come above deck to see what was the cause of the commotion. “Careful, Miko, even you warned of pirates favoring these waters.” and she had. But really, she had helped take down gods, she could hold her own against one man.

A younger member of the crew, a cabin boy, pulled the man to the side and onto his back. “Careful Miss, he could be a pirate.” he stuck close as she dropped to her knees next to the man. His words slurred, movements lethargic, he was obviously out of it.

“Thank you, but I can manage.” she smiled at the young man, finding his bashful blush adorable, before taking on a more serious expression and checking on her impromptu patient.

With a careful touch, she redirected his gaze towards her, fingers holding his cheeks before pressing against his brow. Brows pinched at the heat she felt, more so than from being stuck out in the sun for who knows how long. She carefully checked his eyes, the inside of his mouth before moving on to check for broken bones.

“…I usually have a few drinks first, love…” the voice was slurred and low, but it was the first straight thing the man spoke since being brought aboard.

Eyes flashing to his, she was somewhat shocked that he was lucid. “Oh!” she was once again cupping his cheeks, thumbs rubbing his blistered cheeks with careful sweeps. “Good. How many fingers do you see?” she raised a hand, lips pursed when his eyes shifted from her face slowly to her hand.

“Two.” a hand wrapped around her own, the worn leather of his odd glove felt somewhat rough to her currently pampered hands. “Is this some strange courtship, love?”

Lips pursing, Kagome flicked a hard look at the cabin boy when he made a strangled noise before returning her attention back to the man. “No. Now can you tell me your name and tell me how long you’ve been out to sea?”

“Jack.” he licked his lips or at least attempted to a few time. “Captain! Jack Sparrow. You ‘appen to have anything to drink? Throat’s awfully parched.”

“Yes, of course. We’ll get you below deck so you’re out of the sun and you’ll be given some water right away.” Kagome’s once again visually checking for wounds since she was interrupted by her patient earlier.

“Water? I was thinking more along the lines of rum.” his grip on her hand tightened in a gentle squeeze as he pulled in a little closer. “You do have rum aboard, yes?”

Narrowing her eyes, she turned her gaze to the cabin boy. “The heat has made him delirious. Best bring him below and give him some water to cool off.” she pulled her hand away, dusting her skirts as she stared the two down. “Under no circumstances is he to be given anything but water. No rum.” she made sure she was staring the man, Jack, in the eye as she said her last bit before moving on.

Kagome was the one to see to the man while they continued on to port, tending to his health and being sure he was eating and drinking properly. “Look, once we’re in port and you’re free to go, you can drink as much rum until you’ve drowned yourself in it.”

Jack smiled, relaxed as one could be on the still palet he had been given as he watched her. “Sounds like a dream.” he was quick to hold her hand, distracting her from whatever task she was busying herself with. “But I don’t think the men will let me go, love.”

Kagome raised a brow as she watched him, his attempts charm her were amusing, to say the least. “Are you trying to charm me into helping you escape? Because you’ll have to do better if you are.”

His expression shifted to shock, her hand being pressed against his chest dragging her closer. “I’m shocked, love, that you would think such.” he attempted to bat his eyes at her.

“Does this usually work for you?” she was asking because she was honestly curious.

“Truly? Nothing?” he dropped back a bit and muttered something under his breath. “I’d hate to do this to such a…” his eyes trailed along her form, lips twitching as his ‘smoldering smirk’ returned. “…such a lovely lady like yourself.”

Blinking, she was about to ask what he could possibly mean before she was suddenly in his hold, tight to this front when he whipped out a pistol from somewhere. Her lips pursed when he ducked down and took in a deep breath from her hair, sighing. “You really are lovely. Perhaps had we met under different circumstances.”

“I doubt things would have turned out differently.” she huffed as she followed his guiding lead to where he asked supplies to be stocked. He locked them in and actually sauntered to where a shelf held some rum. “Are you… Of all the things to take to help you escape, you go for the rum?”

The expression he threw her had all the swagger of a confident man, though he seemed to have a slight tilt or sway that also made him appear inebriated. That cabin boy better not have given him any rum while she was tending to his recovery. “There’s never any enough rum, and now that I’m to liberate myself thanks to your tender care, it seems a perfect time for some rum.” he made a show, wiggling his fingers before plucking a bottle and pulling the cork.

If it weren’t for her current attire, Kagome would have huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Damn skirt hoops and corsets. As soon as they arrived, her and Sesshoumaru that is, she was going to be sure to get her wardrobe changed. Screw Western social norms, she would slip into a pair of trousers the first chance she got.

“Ah. Nothing quite as lovely as a good rum.” his eyes turned to her, not that she was paying attention. “Well… almost nothing. Ready love?”

Turning to face him, Kagome raised a brow. “You’re seriously only taking the rum?”

“Not quite.” he was quick to pull her back into his hold and began leading her once again. They were just about to get out on deck when there was a cry announcing land, Jack smiled as he turned to her. “Ready, love?”

“Sure. Why not.” her life had gotten a little boring, then again, she was looking forward to being able to truly stretch her legs and having solid ground beneath her feet once again. “Just so you know, if you pull the trigger of that thing next to my ear, I will hurt you.” she glared at the man, sure to make her point.

“A lady with spirit, I like that.” he was quick to bring them out on deck, making the whole thing a spectacle and forcing Kagome to take part as well as watch the whole ordeal. It was amusing and exciting, and Kagome was sure it was a sign that she had been pinned down on the ship for too long to be amused.

Sesshoumaru’s bored expression as Jack took her once they were docked told Kagome that he wasn’t surprised and was more than used to it. He was pretty much waving her off and not do anything too crazy.

#prompts #fanfiction #crossover #movies #Pirates of the Caribbean #Jack Sparrow #Kagome Higurashi

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fardell24b · 4 years ago

Text

The Engineer and the Time Lady - Rescue 1.0

9. Rescue

Alpha and the Synth were in Transporter Room 1, along with a replicated coracle, which the Synth would use to board the distressed ship. “Ready for transport?” Alpha asked.

“Yes,” the Synth answered. “I have run through all your scenarios.”

“Very good,” Alpha said as she moved behind the console.

“Energize.”

The Synth materialisd, in the coracle a short distance from the ship. Alpha continued to watch his progress via the probe.

Nina entered the library on her third day of work. Immediately she was called into the head Librarian's office. She could see the expression on her new boss' face. “Is something wrong?”

“Aialah Alera-Kalrea hasn't come in today.”

That was something Nina hadn't expected. “She didn't.”

“I know something of what occurred yesterday,” the Head Librarian divulged. “Including about the book that shouldn't have been loaned.” She shook her head.

“What I suspect is personal, but I have reason to believe she could be in danger.”

“I knew about her and the Mayor's son. So I suspected that something like this could happen,” the Head Librarian got up from behind the desk and paced. “But Aialah is missing and I should have looked out for her more.” She gestured to the pile of paperwork at one end of the desk and sighed.

Nina could see that the Head Librarian took duty of care seriously. It was just as well she had read up on the way this particular society worked. “So, you have informed the Police and the Guild then? Why are you telling me this?”

“The Guild, yes,” the Head Librarian answered. “The Police, not yet. The latter may be more influenced by the Mayor than I like.”

'Of course. It will the Guild leading this investigation,' Nina thought. She just wanted a quiet few days! “So...”

“Given that Aialah confided in you, a little, the Guild wants you to help with the investigation.”

Nina nodded.

The Emergency Away Mission Synthetic analysed the refusal that the crew member had given him. “Why?”

“You have your answer. The Captain won't see you, and we can repair the ship ourselves!”

“I still can repair your ship.”

The crewmember then brandished a sword. “Get off this ship!”

Alpha saw saw the Synth retreat. She supposed she could beam him into the hold, but that was still rather risky from a Prime Directive standpoint. 'There's probably not much choice if the ship is to be saved,' she thought. She wished she had tried to run simulations of external repairs to the hull. She shook her head. There was no way the Synth could have done that.

“Emergency Away Mission Synthetic to Baffin.”

“Alpha here.”

“I was unable to gain entry to the hold.”

“Could you try again?” she asked. A look at the sensor data told her there were crew in the hold. She wasn't sure they would leave it.

“There's a high probability of failure, but I'll try.”

“Is that strange man asking to help repair the ship again?” the Captain asked.

“He is. I should note that the cracks in the hull are getting bigger. We won't be able to save the cargo.”

“Forget the cargo, can all of us escape?”

“Yes, barely. The jollyboats are ready to go.”

“Good. Now, tell that man to go.”

The Synth saw the Mate approaching. “His answer?”

“Clear off. We have the repairs well in hand.”

“I can repair your ship.”

“No!” the mate said, brandishing a sword again.

“Withdraw,” Alpha said.

Nina had worked for a few hours before she was called into the Head Librarian's office again. The local Guild Representative was there. “So, Nina Lumber?”

“That's me.”

“So, Aialah Alera-Kalrea confided in you about why she thought she would get into trouble?”

“Yes.”

The interview went on for a while, during which Nina filled in the Representative on what had happened two days earlier.

“Thanks for the help,” the Representative said.

“I would like her to be found too.”

“Stay at the library after work and I'll fill you in on what has been figured out so far.”

“Sure.”

During her lunch break, Nina went back to the TARDIS. She wondering if she would be able to find Aialah using the Scanner. 'OK, TARDIS, scan the data downloaded so far. Search for Aialah Alera-Kalrea.”

The TARDIS beeped. A picture of Aialah came up. The word Missing was prominent in the poster. 'That didn't help.' But she had barely begun. “Right, the last time she was seen in surveilance footage.”

There was another beep and a video of Aialah and the Mayor's son appeared. The time stamp indicated it was taken the previous night. It was at the city's main train station and they were waiting at the platform.

“Were there trains scheduled last night?”

A list of services to that station came up on the screen. None of them matched the timestamp, which was firmly an hour after the last one. Something had happened to her after that? Locating the Mayor's son would be the next step.

“Search for Karlan Lanronal.”

Mayor Lanronal honors son for services rendered.

'Nepotism!' she thought. The timestamp for the newspaper article was earlier that morning. 'The possibility that she has been spirited away somewhere is high.' She turned her attention back to the surveilance footage. She could see Aialah was distressed. She noted the time stamp. “Jump forwards at one minute intervals. Pause when Aialah disappears.”

Only five minutes later, Aialah was no longer there. But the video also showed a rail motor diappearing into the distance. She was certainly on that. “Bring up the rail network in the city.”

The scanner screen filled up with the diagram of the railway network. There were many abandoned stations and sidings listed. 'A needle in a haystack,' she thought. But there was another way. While the TARDIS was 'tied up', there was another time travel option. The Emergency Subset. Sure, it was meant for emergencies, but it could be used in this instance for a short range hop. She rushed out of the Console Room.

The Emergency Subset room just looked like a barebones Console Room, with cupboards filled with emergency supplies. As she entered, the scanner activated, showing the surveilance footage from that station. The coordinates were set. She breathed deeply as she approached the console. 'Ready!' she thought, as she set the Emergency Subset into motion.

As soon as the Emergency Subset had materialisd, Nina bounded outside. She saw the rail motor clear the platform. 'There has to be a way to track it.' She could either run after it or return to the TARDIS. “What should I do?”

After a moment, she made her decision. She rushed back to the Emergency Subset, and initiated the Return Protocol.

After returning to the TARDIS, Nina noted that only a few minutes had passed. She then went back to the Library.

The afternoon passed slowly, with Nina helping various patrons find books, or online resources. The thought of remaining in the library indefinitely, rather than returning to the Baffin crossed her mind, but she knew she had to return. 'I can always return after they return home,' she thought.

Aolare Palet-Ienae, the Librarian Guild Representative for Naneare - Rladibud, saw Nina Lumber enter the meeting room a few minutes early.

“So, any more news?” Nina asked.

Aolare hesitated. “It is serious. It seems Aialah was kidnapped,” she explained.

“I see,” Nina said.

“I know this is a shock.”

“I want to help.”

“I know you do.”

“So, any evidence?” Nina asked.

“There's plenty of evidence,” Aolare said. “It is circumstatial.”

“Oh!”

“But you're still going to present it to the City Court.”

“Yes.”

“Right,” Nina said with disappointment. It seemed she would need to find Aialah herself.

That evening when she re-entered the TARDIS, Nina called up the diagram of the city's rail network again. That rail motor had to end up somewhere. She also called up the surveilance footage of the rail motor again. 'Locate the rail motor,' she directed.

An icon appeared, indicating that the rail motor had been last spotted at one of the abandoned stations an hour after Aialah's disappearance at the main railway station. She brought up the relevant footage. It showed the rail motor arriving, and Aialah being rough handled off it by several men, including the Mayor's son! She was getting somewhere. 'First, the Guild needs to know. Then I'll try to rescue Aialah from those men!' Nina thought as she saw the rail motor leave again. Probably was stored in a thought abandoned rail shed somewhere, she supposed.

“OK, TARDIS, let the Librarian Guild know. Give them this footage as an anonymous tip.”

The TARDIS 'dinged', the the footage had been sent to the Guild.

“Lead the coordinates into the Emergency Subset,” Nina cried out as she left the Auxillary Console Room. She stopped by a wardrobe and threw on a concealing outfit.

Again, the Emergency Subset left the TARDIS.

The Emergency Subset materialised off to the side of the abandoned station, the sound of that materialisation drowned out by the sound of the poorly maintained rail motor departing. As Nina moved towards Aialah and her kidnappers she could hear the former struggling.

“You won't get away with this!” Aialah cried out.

“Stop!” Nina cried out as she approached, throwing her voice lower so Aialah wouldn't recognise it.

“Get that person!” the Mayor's son called out to his men.

The gang pulled out firearms and started shooting. Nina ducked behind a pillar just in time. Her hearts beat faster as she heard the bullets ricochet off it. 'I didn't think they would be armed!' she thought. She looked back towards the Emergency Subset. She would make it. 'But do I have the phaser?' she wondered. She checked her pockets, but it was obvious the phaser was back in the TARDIS. But she did have a spare tricorder. 'I'll retrieve it later,' she decided. She started it scanning and threw it aside as a distraction.

She ran back to the Emergency Subset as the goons shot at the tricorder.

She returned to the TARDIS and ran back to the Zero Room to try to calm down.

Having spent the night in the Zero Room, Nina returned to the auxillary Console Room in the morning to find that the leaked footage had caused a media frenzy. Most of the outlets were calling for the Mayor to resign. But the Guild hadn't yet found Aialah. 'I'll have breakfast and go to the Library.'

Aolare was approaching Nina's motor home when Nina emerged. “Good. I need to talk to you. That leak may have done more harm than good.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Guild needs to find Aialah before the Police do.”

“Right...” Nina considered.

“Let's go. I've set up an operations center in the Library.”

Nina entered the room in which Aolare was coordinating the search for Aialah. “The team are approaching the abandoned station now, Ma'am,” one of the other librarians said.

“Good,” Aolare said.

Nina breathed deeply.

It was a long day. Hardly any progress was made, except that evidence from the station indicated that Aialah had been taken elsewhere. “Maybe we should try calling in the Mayor's son,” Nina groused as she left the Library.

“No, he'll just stonewall us,” Aolare objected. “We're tracking down the others that were with him.”

“Probably.”

Entering the TARDIS, Nina saw that the download of the network was complete. “I know where Aialah was two nights ago. I can use the TARDIS to rescue her.” But there was a lot of risk in that. She called up the abandoned station.

She grabbed the phaser and then set it to stun and put it on wide beam. She set the TARDIS in motion...

#doctor who #fan fiction #star trek

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