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howlingmod · 2 months ago

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Allusive

summary - Lampert has a circuitry problem. You help him. You're both normal about it.

wc - 3.2k

misc - crossposted from ao3 , ignore how ooc this is i was very tired and didn't want to check the wiki a bunch ..

“You want me to what?”

If you were any less shell-shocked, you probably could’ve come up with a better response. A ‘Oh, could you run that by me one more time, my dearest of dear friends?’ or ‘Would you mind repeating that? I just need to make certain I heard you right,’ was the next thing on your tongue, for sure.

“Listen, you don’t have to if you don’t want to– I can figure it out, find someone else to. I just figured I should ask and see if you’d be willing before I looked somewhere else and-” Lampert started to ramble, making vague gestures with his hands as his words all stumbled over one another in their rush to get out.

“Dude, just gimmie a second,” you cut them off, half-muffled behind the hands trying to rub some coherency into you, “I never said no, I just … wasn’t really expecting that.” ‘Wasn’t really,’ was an overstatement. Maybe even more than an overstatement, more like a huge-massive-hyper-statement, in your opinion. This was about the last thing you’d expected Lampert to be asking for at the early hours of your shift. There was no, ‘Where’s your replacement cables?’ or ‘When was the last time you guys dusted?’ Sure, you didn’t hate some surprises on your shift, it kept the day interesting, after all, but this was an entirely different kind of surprise.

“I mean, like,” you started hesitantly, only now dropping your hands back to the counter with averted eyes, “I could give it a try but, I’m not really an electrician or anything. I mean, I know how to fix some stuff but I don’t really work on uh …” You made a fluttery, trailing motion with your hand.

“Sentient light-fixtures?”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s uh, that’s a little out of my usual work.”

“I assumed as much, but it’s not like I’m just gonna tell you to ‘figure it out,’ and have you dig around in me,” Lampert laughed, some short little exhale that tugged at your heartstrings. You were surprised he was being so lighthearted about this, but you were also surprised he’d asked you in the first place, so maybe you were just thoroughly mistaken on your assesment of your friend.

You stammered for a few moments, struggling to find the words. Part of you wanted to just throw caution to the wind, to say yes. You might not be a surgeon, but you’re also a lot more familiar with electrical parts than you are organs. Another part of you said throwing caution to the wind when ‘caution’ was ‘I don’t want to destroy my friend’s body,’ was a very stupid thing to be thinking. “I get that, I just … Do you really trust me with this, man?” Your hands were digging into your head now, physically holding yourself together.

He paused for a moment at that, taking a breath. While, normally, this sort of hesitation would be enough for you to instantly call it off, you knew to give it a little longer. Well-spoken as he was, you’d talked with Lampert long enough to know that converting genuine, sincere thoughts to words could be hard for him.

“I’d say so, yeah,” he’d shrugged, hand coming up to fidget with his pull switch, “I’ve known you for … however long now, and it’s not like you’re a total newbie to this sort of thing.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes unfocusing as you thought this over one more time. On one hand, you wanted to help your friend out and you knew you’d bend over backwards for him. On the other, you really weren’t sure you wanted to risk pulling the wrong wire the wrong way and frying him. You’d spared him a glance, meeting his awaiting gaze for only a few seconds. You knew you could say no, that he’d assure you it was fine and then find someone else. The problem was, you didn’t really want to tell him no. A sigh scratched its way out of your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Ok.”

“Really?” He’d perked up at your response, chain left swinging as he let go of it in surprise.

“Yeah, I’ll give it a go,” you muttered, “But you have to promise me you’ll help me out, I usually don’t have to worry about hurting people’s radios or anything.”

“Yeah! Of course, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you, Lampert smiling to himself while you worked on clearing your head. You still weren’t totally sure about this, anxiety weighing heavy on your back, but you wanted to try. It’d save him some time and energy (and money, probably), and it’d give you an excuse to hang out with him for a while. You were lucky nobody had come in while you two were talking, you weren’t sure you’d be able to differentiate a one and a one hundred dollar bill in your daze. The dim overhead lighting kept buzzing and an incoherent ad played over the store radio.

You’d watched in silence as Lampert stuck a finger out to trace over part of the countertop, leaving a fingerprint behind in the dust. He grimaced.

“You really touched your face after putting your hands on this?-”

“Oh my god dude I do not get paid to clean this place.”

This suddenly felt like your first time ever stepping foot into your own apartment. Your space felt barren, like someone had been slowly robbing you for the past decade until all you had was their leftover blankets and pillows. You’d done your best to make a comfortable enough mattress out of your sheets, but it still felt like you’d just thrown Lampert onto a pile of rocks and told him to get comfy.

“Fuck, umm … I might have some more blankets under my bed or something,” you thought aloud, worrying the inside of your lip between your canines while trying to catalog every forgotten shirt or notebook you’d crammed under your bedframe.

You had your back turned to Lampert, who quietly watched you devolve into a pacing mess on the floor. Truthfully, he stopped feeling the hardwood about 15 minutes ago, but never found a good spot to interject with that info.

“I really don’t think that’s necessary,” he hummed, watching for the slightest of shifts in the tension of your shoulders. You’d never been bad on the eyes, but this seemed to be a particularly ethereal look on you, despite the way you’d slowly gotten more disheveled and still had yet to get out of your work uniform. He couldn’t really tell what it was, he’d been over to your apartment enough you’d told him where you kept your spare key, and he’d seen you in your uniform just about every day in all states of distress.

You finally shot him a look over your shoulder, frantic gaze meeting his own relaxed one before darting away again. Your shoulders lowered a little, fidgeting in place for a few moments before you’d finally turned around to face him.

“You sure there’s nothing I can get you? It’s no trouble,” You’d asked for the third time, grabbing at the back of your neck.

“Well, you could maybe help me with this wire thing I’ve got going on, I might’ve told you about it before.”

That’d gotten a short laugh out of you, more an exhale with a brief, flashed grin than anything. “Yeah, alright, man.” Despite the snark, you’d kneeled down by his side, hands sitting by your side. “So how do I uhh …”

“Oh! Let me just …” Lampert mumbles, unbuttoning his shirt to open himself up. Instinctively, you’d turned away, busying your eyes on some uneven paint on the wall. You knew there wasn’t any real reason to be shy, there wasn’t exactly anything there, but it felt more polite to do than not. You wondered if you should’ve put music on, the thudding of your heart in your ears was starting to feel migraine inducing. No, it probably would’ve been distracting, it was for the better you didn’t. Probably.

You waited for a few more moments of shuffling, “Alright, this should work fine.”

You’d looked back at him then, already scripting some conversation that ended up going unwritten and unspoken once you’d processed the scene. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before, technically speaking, but it carried a different weight here. The light from across the room barely glinted off the collage of wires neatly lining his insides, a sea of blacks and greys in his chest. You could make out parts of a metal framework, only a little more complex than a skeleton, interestingly enough. You supposed it made sense, given his relatively humanoid body. It allowed his skin to move freely in some places, more akin to the way yours would in the soft of your forarm or the curve of your stomach. Something like a chestplate, the outermost layers of his torso were sitting beside him, resting delicately on his discarded shirt. Whoever made him should be proud.

“You ok?” Lampert suddenly spoke up, concern clear in his voice.

“OH,” you started, “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, got a little lost in thought.”

“You sure? It’s ok if you changed your mind, I know it’s a little weird,” he’d reassured, struggling on the last few words. Admittedly, he was nervous. He didn’t know why, this wasn’t fear of something going wrong, but more about how you felt about all of this. Sure, he didn’t have any reason to believe you saw him as some freak of nature, but something was nagging him to cover back up. It felt vulnerable in an entirely different way to show you everything like this, to be so unforgettably other to you.

You shook your head, reaching out to rest your hands on him. He tensed up at the touch, freezing to watch for your next move. “Nah, I’m all good, promise, but uh … I don’t really see the issue. Everything looks pretty well kept.”

“Oh, yeah, the top part should be fine,” Lampert explained as he pointed to the topmost layer of wires, feeling more relaxed with the near clinical conversation, “I’m usually able to handle tidying everything back up every now and then just fine. It’s just that I’ve got this knot at the very back I can’t get to.”

You made a little noise at that, staring down at his chest with thought. While you were busy making a mental map of how to go about this, he took the opportunity to study his surroundings a little more. He’d been here plenty of times, but something always seemed to be added or moved around every time he came over. Usually, it wasn’t anything huge, and if it was you tended to make it a point of conversation, playing it up like a grand unveiling. The changes all felt natural, a physical show of changing times. You had a few photos along the wall, mostly of some of your friends you’d introduced him to before.

He can’t quite remember how you’d roped him into it, but he had a feeling you made some kind of bet or favor. That tended to be the case. He does, however, remember a lot of the night after that. Namely, he remembers you making some sweeping, grand gesture with your hands when you introduced him, like you’d just thrown a grade-A celebrity in front of your friends. He remembers one of your friends telling him it was nice to meet the guy you’d been talking about so much, fully sincere in their words. He remembers ending up sleeping on your couch, too tired to walk back home that night, while you took to sleeping on the floor right beside it, insisting it was just like a sleepover. He also remembers almost stepping on you in the morning, but that’s neither here nor there.

He can’t help the smile that crawls onto his face at the memory, all the stupid little things you’d done for him that night and the dumb jokes you made that got snickers out of him without fail. Something flutters in his chest, hands readjusting idly on his lap with some spark of pent up energy.

“Lampert.”

He snaps to attention at that, head whipping over to look at you. You’re fixing him with some odd, wide-eyed stare, lips set in a thin line.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“Dude, you cannot just go all still and quiet on me like that. I was so sure I like, ripped something.”

“Wh- I was smiling! Why would I be smiling if I was hurt?”

“I don’t know!” You retorted, hands giving a stifled jerk in his chest, carefully carded through the wires. If it weren’t for not wanting to really rip something this time, you would’ve thrown your hands up in the air to really show him what exasperated looked like, he was sure of it. “Maybe you just got stuck like that?”

“’Maybe I just got stuck like-’ Oh, whatever. I’m fine, thank you for checking in,” Lampert sighed, looking back up at the ceiling. You just stuck your tongue out in response. He felt a little more aware of what was actually going on in the present, now, able to pick out the feeling of your fingers gently pushing cord after cord aside. His ability to feel things was significantly less expansive than yours was, but he could feel the dull warmth of your skin brushing up against cold metal, a foggy pressure on his frame.

He envied your heightened sensitivity at times, how you’d differentiate velvet from satin or comment on how soft something was. You’d try describing it to him sometimes, usually devolving into incoherent, if not poetic, rambles that went nowhere and left him with a very abstract idea of how silk felt. Some night where you’d both been out of it and desperate for some connection to someone, you’d traced his skin and called it smooth, and then you’d carefully touched the side of his head and said it reminded you of linen. He could understand smooth, could imagine how the visual translated to the physical, but linen was different. You’d stumbled your words for a few moments, starting and restarting multiple times over. Eventually you said linen usually felt scratchy, but got softer over time. Part of him wanted to feel insulted about the ‘scratchy’ bit, ignoring the connotations he knew from how you used it to describe texture that it usually wasn’t pleasant, but he couldn’t find the irritation at the time. He was too tired, too busy thinking about why you included how linen got softer with time, too busy thinking about how that related to him, what you were trying to tell him. In the end, he was mostly just too tired, and ended up falling asleep and forgetting about it in the morning.

He could feel you digging deeper into him now, leaning further over him to better reach without putting too much strain on other wires.

“Tell me if I’m pushing too hard,” you murmur, carefully parting the layers of copper and plastic to look for the tangled wires. “Mm, actually, can you hold that for a sec? I think I need a flashlight.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lampert hummed in response, quickly replacing your hands in himself. It was an odd angle, putting a little more strain on his arms than comfortable. As he’d moved to replace your hands, he’d brushed them briefly, registering that warmth again. He couldn’t tell what your skin felt like, if it was rough and scratchy or smooth and soft, but he could uniquely identify just how hot your hands felt against his.

It was the one sense he seemed to trump you in, given how your perception of it was limited to your body temperature. You’d be burning something awful and he’d have to tell you to lay back down, since, according to your temperature sensitivity, you were perfectly average. It made sense, you’d often make jokes about not knowing how he didn’t feel too hot whenever his light was on too long, referencing how you’d burned yourself on a light when you were younger. In the moment though, he was usually too baffled by how you’d managed such an injury to think about it. You’d complain sometimes about your hands being cold in the winter, tucking them into the sides of your neck for warmth, but he rarely ever picked up on it. Though, in fairness, you’d usually jolt in surprise when you felt how cold his hands were after being outside, a clear result of metal’s ambient temperature. No matter what you thought, you always seemed to be radiating heat, and he’d always be leeching off of it while you two sat together for some bad hallmark movie.

“There!” You blurted out, finally locating the bundle of wires bunched together among the ocean of identical strings. “It doesn’t look that bad, actually. Shouldn’t take me long,” you hummed, more to yourself than anything. You set your flashlight aside, leaning closer to his body to get a better handle on him.

As you started to delicately pry every last cable apart from one another, Lampert turned to studying you again. There was a light a little ways behind your head, leaving your face obscured in a shadow while it cast a halo around your form. He imagined you were probably fixing him with some intent look, tongue partway sticking out to focus on the knot, the same way you tended to whenever you handled someone else’s electronics. He didn’t stick around for too long whenever you were working, it didn’t look great for you if you were talking to someone for too long on your shift, so he tended to dip out after a minute or two. Sometimes, though, he’d end up talking to you about something he’d seen walking around that day while you were fixing something up. He admired how careful you could be with things as fragile as decades old circuitboards and crumbling watches, how much effort you put into making sure things didn’t get damaged any further.

That was probably part of why he’d asked you to help him with this, you were by all means technically skilled, no doubt about it. But maybe he also chose to ask you because he trusted you, beyond your skill. Asked you because he knew, on some intrinsic level, that you were someone who he could rely on. He’d done it in plenty of other regards, trusted you in moments where everything felt so disjointed and nonsensical like you were the only logical thing in the world. Without asking, you’d offered him friendship and understanding at every turn, given him a shoulder to lean on before he’d ever mentioned needing one. You’d given him your heart, and, in some way, he’d given you his.

The cables slipped back into place, the dull, constant aching in his back finally receding. You were grinning, pulling back out of his vision with some comment on how you’d been expecting worse. He hummed in response, not entirely hearing what you said, still lost in his thoughts. He followed you blearily as you got up, stretching your arms far over your head, starting into a conversation about if he wanted to do anything else while he was here, offering up a few suggestions that he didn’t catch. His hands found their place on his lap again, readjusting twice before he felt settled enough to answer.

“Can I tell you something?”

#regretevator x reader #lampert x reader #same goes here if creators uncomfortable ill take it down #send an ask or something. idk.#x reader #ohh i hope this doesnt show up in main tags. i will go missing

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alxtiny · 1 year ago

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Soap Bubbles | Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Synopsis: when Hongjoong needs comfort after a long day

Pairing: kim hongjoong x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: fluff, comfort, suggestive

Word count: 893

Warnings: slightly very slightly suggestive

Notes: i wrote this half dead please don’t hold too many expectations :’)

masterlist

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues across the cityscape, Hongjoong trudged wearily into the apartment he shared with you.The dimly lit apartment was a haven of tranquillity as he stepped through the door. His steps were heavy, the exhaustion from a long day of practice etched across his features. His raven hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his eyes held a subtle glint of frustration. He exhaled deeply, releasing the tension that had accumulated throughout the day.

You looked up from the couch, where you had been reading, concern tugging at your heartstrings. His dedication to his craft was admirable, but you couldn't bear to see him so drained. "Hey," you said softly, rising from your seat. "Rough day?"

Hongjoong nodded wearily, a half-hearted smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you could say that. My head's killing me.”

You stepped closer, your eyes filled with empathy. "Why don't you go take a shower? Maybe the warm water will help with the headache."

He nodded again, grateful for your understanding. "That sounds like a good idea." He shuffled towards the bathroom, leaving his clothes and with them his worries at the door, you could hear the water start to run as he stepped in.

While he was in the shower, you quietly moved about the apartment, collecting the necessary items: a bottle of his favourite shampoo, a fluffy towel, and a bottle of scented oil that you often used for massages. The sound of the water stopped after a while, and you knew he was done. You walked to the bathroom door and knocked gently. "Hongjoong, can I come in?"

The door opened slightly, and his voice floated through. "Yeah, of course."

Leaving your clothes on top of Hongjoong’s at the door, you entered the bathroom, your gaze met his tired one, a small smile forming. "I thought you might want a little pampering."

Hongjoong's lips curled into a more genuine smile as he saw the items in your hands. "You always know what I need."

You motioned towards the shower, which had a built-in bench. "Sit down. I'll take care of the rest."

He followed your instructions, sitting down on the bench as you stood beside him, pouring some of the shampoo into your hand. The fragrant scent filled the air as you worked the lather into his hair, your fingers massaging his scalp with gentle expertise. Hongjoong closed his eyes, letting out light sounds of pleasure, leaning into the sensation, his headache slowly beginning to ebb away.

The warm water cascaded over his body, carrying away the stress of the day as you continued to wash his hair with care. After a few minutes, you rinsed his hair thoroughly before reaching for the bottle of scented oil. You poured a small amount into your palms, warming it between your hands before placing them on his shoulders.

Your touch was soothing and deliberate as you started to knead the tension from his muscles. Hongjoong let out a contented sigh, his eyelids fluttering open to look at you. Your eyes met, a silent understanding passing between you. His hand reached out, his fingers intertwining with yours as you continued to work on his shoulders, the intimacy of the moment grounding him in a way that words never could.

Feeling the knots in his muscles gradually give way, you shifted your focus to his neck, your fingers moving with practised precision. Hongjoong's eyes fell closed once more, his head tilting slightly to the side to allow you better access. The soothing rhythm of your touch combined with the lingering scent of the oil created a cocoon of comfort around him.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, the gesture tender and full of affection. Hongjoong turned his head, his eyes meeting yours, his hand still holding yours on his shoulder.

Without a word, he pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The warmth of the shower, the closeness of your bodies, and the shared tenderness of the moment all combined to create an overwhelming sense of connection. You could feel all of him against your body. Your heartbeats seemed to synchronise as the kiss deepened, passion intertwining with the comfort you had been providing.

As the water continued to cascade around you, the kiss grew more intense, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pressed you gently against the shower wall. The ache in his head had long been forgotten, replaced by a different kind of sensation that seemed to flow through every nerve in his body.

Time seemed to blur as the kiss lingered, and when it finally broke, you both were left breathless, foreheads touching as you caught your breath. Hongjoong's eyes held a mixture of emotions—gratitude, desire, and something deeper that words couldn't quite capture.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice a gentle murmur that echoed in the small space.

"I love you too," you replied, your own voice filled with the same depth of emotion.

The water continued to fall around you, a reminder of the world outside, but in that moment, nothing could disrupt you. And as you held each other close, the words echoed through the air and melted into the soap bubbles, leaving a comforting feeling behind.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517

#ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez reaction #ateez smut #ateez x y/n #ateez x you #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong ateez #hongjoong fluff

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amaiaqt · 1 year ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤdream on, dreamerㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤhow do they encourage you when you don't acknowledge ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤyour own efforts ? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤxiao, diluc, wanderer, al haitham !

second post of my 200 special ! hope the difference in prompt for each part brings a good read to everyone !

@https-heizou @papiliotao @lovevivi444 @kazumist @ilyuu

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao ! ㅤ

xiao is not the most talented in expressing his affections, he's far from it, but he does try.

he tries to understand you, to understand what you find so special in something he so sees to be trivial, to understand how your mind processes the smallest instances or comments he makes as endearing to you, to understand your personal view in mortal life. he tries to see value in the small matters you see of importance. he doesn't understand you, but because of his unfortunately tangled heartstrings that tug on each other at the thought of you, he has to try at the very least. no, it's not has, he's not obligated to. really, he just wants to.

that was when he first met you, when your presence first piqued his interest.

now, now he does understand you. he understands the importance of small things to you, he understands that you may think differently in comparison to him, that you may value things he does not. he understands now after months of trying his best to even begin to comprehend your mind.

the only thing left that he doesn't understand about you, is your self-criticism.

he sees your efforts, he sees how serious you are about what you do, he sees how dedicated you are to your work, and he deems you worthy of acknowledgement for that. why is it that you don't ? why is it that you've come this far, and yet, you can't acknowledge yourself for that ?

if xiao's not the best in expressing his affections, you also can't expect him to be all that experienced in showing tender support, but he also tries ! he always, always tries. for you. he always tries, his absolute best, for you.

"why are you so..." he pauses, choosing his words as he thinks thoroughly about how to word what he wants to say. he gulps, hesitant, but the way your eyes met his with expectance, he shakes his head. "why are you always so harsh with yourself ?" he finally finishes, eyebrows knotting in seriousness. the way you looked at him, it urged him to elaborate further on what he meant — "you often criticize your own work, think lowly of them, even. also, don't think i don't notice that look of disapproval in your eyes when you're skimming through the words you just wrote in front of me, words that tell stories i would find myself comfort in." he takes your hand in both of his, cupping it up to his lips as he sits in front of you, opting to silence while waiting for your response. "xiao," you took a deep breathe and he looked up at you patiently, "it's just, i'm not that harsh on myself, i promise." you place your hand on top of his that still cupped your other to his lips.

"it's that i admire you, your work. i respect your dedication to it and how serious you are about it. that's why i don't like that you criticize yourself so often." "so you'd like me to stop ?" "i hope that you'd stop." your features relax as your smile goes soft to his direct response, and you kiss him on the forehead.

"thank you, my darling. i needed that." you leaned in closer to his face, melting at how softly his amber eyes looked into yours. "i figured you did."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤdiluc ! ㅤ

now diluc is not so reserved when it comes to his own opinions. if he thinks something is unimportant, he will say, out loud, that it isn't important. his words have no filter, that's why he's deemed a rude man by many, with the exception with a few that were used to it.

you were one of that few. constantly retaliating or paying no mind to his direct and straight-to-the-point comments about how it was pitiful to pay mind to 'senseless' matters. though, he did irk you when you first got acquainted, but with utmost patience, you grew to understand that he simply didn't get it and worded his sentiments with a far too direct tone.

really, despite his insensitive tone with wording things, he never means for them to be offensive or hurtful. especially not towards you, archons forbid he ever accidentally says something to hurt you. he wouldn't be able to forgive himself even if you already forgave him.

hence, he's noticeably careful with his statements when he watches you tug on your hair in frustration over the sentence you were currently writing just not making sense. he wants to be of assistance to you, of help, but how does one do so ? he doesn't ponder for too long and decides to sit closer to you, snaking an arm around your waist in an attempt to rub soothing circles into your sides. "don't pull your hair out like that, you're getting pent up." you let out a long sigh and cave in, propping up against his shoulder and leaning into him in hopes of rest.

but he can't shake off the thought that you weren't just tired.

"do you perhaps have something bottled up in your chest ? would you like to rant about it if so ?" the question comes out soft and slow, as if he was being careful. you didn't need to say anything for him to know your response, just the way you tried to hide your face in his arm and leaned closer told him that you did in fact have something bottled up.

"if you're comfortable to talk about it now, of course." he reassures you, pulling you in closer and slightly pushing away the table that you were furiously writing on earlier. your shoulders tensed but loosened as soon as he noticed. "it's just, none of my writing seems right, as of late." you started to speak, melting into his hold. "how do you say so ? i've been reading your work in progresses, and i'd say they're as beautiful as all your other projects." he queried, not fully understanding what you meant in right. "are you sure ? to me they're just not that worth finishing. not that good, basically."

he doesn't understand, not that good ? how could you say that about the papers you would stay up all night in your shared bedroom, writing away on your desk instead of curling up to his warmth in bed, leaving him almost lonely just to finish ? how could you say that about the short stories you spend hours on and put utmost effort into ? he's practically offended for you.

"don't ever say that." he kisses your temple and stays with his lips hovering over your skin. "you're likely in need of a rest for you to feel that spark for your work again, no ?" you hummed at his suggestion, "perhaps, yeah." he smiles at your response and kisses your temple again.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤwanderer !ㅤ

kunikuzushi, scaramouche, wanderer, however you know him, is an honest man. he's intelligent with words as well, making sure every word rolls off with the exact impression he means it.

but he's no writer, he's more of a reader. he rather reads the pages neatly written out by some literature genius than write himself. so to watch you work, watch you write, oh he does admire it. and better you bet that he'll always want the manuscripts or unfinished projects you don't publicly release, which you figure he simply keeps up on a shelf, but far from that in reality. instead, he keeps the pieces he gets from you in the drawer by his nightstand, specifically for their safe storage. he loves how you write, he loves the words you use, everything you write is a gift to him, so he keeps them there for close attention.

with this, it doesn't go unnoticed when you start to lose heart in your writing. when you start to hesitate with each word you note on the paper, when you start to ponder more and longer with the next sentence, when you start throwing away more drafts than often — he realizes before you can come to terms with it.

what bothers him more is that you're less prideful in your finished works, when you used to show them off to him immediately, you would instead say they're not finished or you're gonna edit them more. only to stash them away in a folder and hide it at the bottom of your drawer. he knows why, you can't hide it from him even if you try, and you don't even dare to try.

he stops your hand as it moves to dip your pen in ink again, taking it from your fingers as he moves your chair to face him. "you can talk to me, you do know that, right ?" he starts, leaning close with both of his hands on each of the chair's arms, a sign for you to stay put. you looked up at him, puzzled by his actions, but he knew better than to assume you didn't know what he meant, you knew what he meant.

"talk to me," he pauses, "please. i know something's wrong when you're more frustrated than usual." he speaks carefully, softly. he's a man who knows how to use his words, who makes sure to speak them clearly yet carefully. "it bothers me when you don't want to talk about things, please ?"

he's a man who fears silence from himself, and from those whom he trusts dearly, silence brings worry to his nerves and waves him with a sense of discomfort. he hates when you're silent. he, really, really does.

to his relief, you finally let him hear that sigh of forfeit and his muscles loosen from their formerly tense state. "writing has just been difficult, recently, that's all to it." you were looking down as you spoke, and this left scaramouche unconvinced. "that's not all to it, don't think i haven't noticed." he shakes his head, staying in place to hear everything. he's not ending this conversation until he hears everything.

"for someone who insists he doesn't care, you notice nearly everything." he scoffs at your attempt to change the topic, "i don't care about most things, but i do care about you."

but this time, your silence in response to what he just said, it amuses him. "now, talk to me, tell me everything. i will listen, i promise you that." he pulls a stool over for him to sit right in front of you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤal haitham !ㅤ

he's no better in showing his affections that a certain adeptus, and he takes no time in understanding. he can be rude, actually, sometimes he means it, sometimes he doesn't. al haitham is a hit or miss kind of man.

however, he does acknowledge others' work — he's not that bad. he acknowledges your work, he respects it even. he would oftentimes find himself assisting you as well, slipping in suggestions and short comments while you write. it's the least he could do now that you're together, after years in the akademiya merely tolerating his manner. though, he'll admit that his curiosity still dwells on why you didn't reject him that day.

he would even tuck away some of his ignored pride and compliment you, even asking you for literary recommendations from time to time. al haitham was a hit or miss kind of man, so you can say you hit the jackpot.

now, with his respect to your work, he will not accept any out of hand criticism without a glare, not even from you. as a matter of fact, whenever he hears a self-deprecating whisper from you, he cups your face with one hand and makes you take it back. not even you have the right to make negative comments about yourself or your work, he makes sure of that.

"this is all such, ugh !" al haitham perks up at the sound of you tossing multiple, maybe even a stack, of papers to the bin by your desk and curse yourself. the chair you sat on scrapes the wood floor as you push it back to get a new stack of blank papers from your drawer. he closes his book and soundlessly walks over and takes out the papers you had discarded and flips through the pages messily stapled together. "this is a waste, love, you are aware of that i hope." he pats off the stack of papers and tries to hand it back to you in hopes that you'd at least use it as a draft. "it's a waste of time, hayi. the plot of that one is messy and has too many loops." you groaned, lightly pushing his hand holding the papers away. "i swear i have it planned out already, but as i write it down it turns cliché, into garbage." the male's eye twitches when you finish your statement, and he sighs, setting the papers down on your desk. "you've spent nearly a week on this one, don't say that." he tries to convince you, and stops the hand that tries to push the papers back into the bin as you turn to him. "and it's garbage, hayi !"

he wipes his hands on his shirt first, then cups your face with both to force you to face him. "come on, you're being far too harsh with yourself." he speaks with the best sincerity he can muster, and he doesn't miss the way your muscles tensed before caving into his touch. "i'm just frustrated it's not going as good as i'd like." you admit, and al haitham pulls you in for a hug. "just because you're frustrated, doesn't mean you should be belittling something you still worked hard on." he retorts, and with the way you sighed and hid your face in his chest, he knew you had no further arguments anymore and his point was made correct.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

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dg-outlaw · 1 year ago

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Blue Beetle - Movie Review

Finally got to see this on HBO Max... yes, "MAX" we still think of you as HBO just as Grogu is still Baby Yoda. Deal with it.

So, back to 'Blue Beetle'.

Long review, short, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie and think it's one of DC's best in their quasi-DCEU/not DCEU or whatever is going on with WB and the DC movies these days. From what I understand, James Gunn/WB is not scrapping everything from the Snyder-verse/DCEU, but changes are coming and there's rumor that this iteration of Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle will stick around and I really hope so. I also think it helps that there were no character cameos in the film, only mentions of heroes like Superman, Batman, etc. so this Blue Beetle could easily be folded into the upcoming Gunn-verse.

As a latino I'm both ashamed to say I don't know much about Jaime Reyes' Blue Beetle outside of his appearances on the 'Young Justice' animated series, but I was also excited to see him on the big screen (metaphorically) and plan to go back and check out his comics.

I won't do a random synopsis as you can easily hit up a Youtube trailer or read an IMDb blurb to get that info, but I will talk about some of things I really enjoyed about this film. Warning: Slight Spoiler's ahead.

First off, this was overall a well-polished, well-written, directed, acted, and enjoyable film. The CGI was CGI, but it never felt janky and I could see the attention to detail in a lot of the VFX work, even with Jaime's practical Blue Beetle suit. I also truly appreciated that this film took risks and didn't shy away from taking those risks, creating stakes and sometimes following through, and addressing certain cultural and socio-economic subject matter without being preachy. In some ways I compare it to the MCU's 'Black Panther' in tackling the cultural and socio-economic things that mainstream, especially Disney, often tries to shy away from.

While 'Blue Beetle' isn't as serious in tone as 'Black Panther' there were several moments in the film where you knew that the writer and director had some creative leeway as opposed to having lots of studio oversight, just as Ryan Coogler had in the first 'Black Panther' film. I'm not sure if this is because WB wasn't paying attention because the DCEU was dying off or if they were somehow convinced to let the creators do their thing.

There were also so many moments where my Hollywood Blockbuster/MCU-trained brain said, "now is where they pull away from the hard moment, make a joke to pull away from a real emotion, or water down the stakes", but that didn't happen in this film. Yes, it was funny throughout, and jokes were made to lighten the mood where appropriate, but it was never at a disservice to the story or the characters. There were no moments where I felt like some director/screenwriter/studio-exec was getting embarrassed because it's a superhero movie so [insert Whedon-esque quip here] to avoid showing feelings.

Plus, you had George Lopez bringing his well-known loud, wild humor as the conspiracy theory spouting, 1% hating, mad-scientist Uncle Rudy, but if anything I think he was needed to give light to a story that potential to be really dark and sad at times. This is not to say there weren't moments that tugged at your heartstrings and made you feel or think. This movie went there because yes, we can think it's cheesy because it's just a superhero movie, but in-universe these events are reality for the characters and I think other superhero movies need to remember that. This was really well done in the first transformation scene of Jaime into the Blue Beetle as it started with light humor and slowly morphed into an almost horror-film like scene. There was no gore, but you felt the terror that Jaime and his family were feeling by watching things unfold. We, as the audience know what's going on, but for him and the family, the shit was hitting the fan and they didn't know what was going on.

Honestly, I didn't know what to expect from this film. Having recently watched Shazam 2, which I thought was really funny and better than the first, but also forgettable and the Flash movie (which I also thought was fun but forgettable), I just expected more popcorn fun--the last sugary drops of the DCEU slushie before the Gunn-verse got underway. What I recalled about the trailers and vague reviews about this film was that it was a fun superhero movie that focused heavily on family.

But unlike the popcorn, turn your brain off and enjoy chaos of the Fast franchise, it didn't require Vin Diesel, 30 movies, and an endless string of memes to drill that concept into your head. Yes, Jaime Reyes is the hero in the film, but it's the collective efforts and support of his family that ends up helping him win in the end and it's what gave the movie heart.

This is also not meant to take away from Xolo Maridueña's performance as Jaime Reyes as the hero, an actor I've enjoyed since first seeing him on the Netflix series 'Cobra Kai'. Just like in 'Cobra Kai', I continue to enjoy his almost innocent boyish charm, shyness, and vulnerability he exudes on-screen. In some ways his character and performance remind me of Tom Holland's Spider-Man as just this kid trying to do the right thing, but is totally in over his head as a teen superhero (even though Jaime is a recent college grad from Gotham U). And just like Peter Park, Jaime didn't ask to be a hero and had no real aspirations for being a hero, other than to his family, but in the end he stepped up. This was not for cool points, though Jaime eventually learned to embrace the scarab's many cool powers, but because he knew it was the right thing to do. And yes, Mr. Vin Diesel, because of family.

I could go on and on about all the cultural moments and subject matter addressed in this film that I thought was really brave and refreshing in a superhero movie, but I won't as that's a giant article in it of itself. But I honestly think Disney/Marvel could take some pointers here as they often pull away just as they are about to get there. Also, no hate on MCU. There are many of the MCU films I enjoy, but the overall formula hasn't gotten tired and needs a revamp. Again, another post for another day, but just putting in a BIPOC, female, or LGBTQ character in a movie doesn't make it good and marketable. And no, we don't need PSA sob-story movies beaten into our heads, but what does it mean to be part of a marginalized community and be a hero? What does that look like? What different perspective does that character bring to the table?

In the end, yes, enjoy 'Blue Beetle' as a superhero movie, but also keep an eye out for the smaller messages and heart of this film as it was a delightful surprise for me. I hope we get to see more Blue Beetle in the future of DC films and I'd even be down for a live-action adaptation of 'Young Justice', with Jaime on the team.

#jaime reyes #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle 2023 #movie review #DG-ramblings

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seizethedre · 4 months ago

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(In the Land of Gods and Monsters)

Chapter Twelve: Motel Sprees, Sprees

As reality would have it, the King of Hell was not, in fact, a duck, proverbial or otherwise, and thus he was only slightly less capable of permitting the nasty waters of this life to simply roll off his shoulders. In fact, if he had to continue with the metaphor, he would say that he was thoroughly soaked, drenched all the way down to his weary bones for reasons he wasn’t quite yet ready to admit to himself.

Let it be understood that when the angels of Heaven were tasked with creating the florals and fauna of the earth, they weren’t exactly given a lot of material to work with. As with all other celestial creations, they were each to serve a unique purpose with the greater intention of providing mankind with the tools they would need in order to fulfill the Plan.

Now I know what you’re wondering: why bother making so many different everythings? Why put in the effort to make over twenty species of oak trees instead of one? Or create the common dolphin if you’re just going to turn around and whip up the objectively much cooler bottle-nose dolphin right after?

The answer to that, clearly, was because it was much more fun to have a little bit of variety among species. Why settle for the plainness of a leghorn chicken when you could have all the glamorous appeal of a silkie bobbing around your backyard? They all tasted the same in the end, might as well get something worthwhile from the experience.

That’s not to say that every creation was a win-win. In fact, Lucifer could recall several, erm, interesting choices that just barely made the cut. Choices, also, that should have probably stayed in the drafts folder. The list included arachnids the size of dinner plates, STI-carrying marsupials, and cuddly-looking rodents the size of a beagle that wouldn’t hesitate to chew through human fingers.

Hindsight, maybe some of their design flaws were a tad obvious, but at the time of their creation, the main focus on everyone’s minds was how each animal would provide for humanity, and of course they were of the mind that bigger animals meant more food to go around. Errors fully realized, Heaven made quick and easy work of gathering the more unsavory picks and dumping them all onto one of the lonelier, desolate corners of the earth, far away from Eden and hot enough to give the pits of Hell a run for their money–-rhymes with Shmaustralia, perhaps you’ve heard of it?

Well, Lucifer could hardly be blamed for the humans who decided to settle that wasteland.

Abominations aside, most of what they created was pretty sweet. His favorite, if not yet apparent, was the duck. Runner ducks, specifically. Something about those long bodies and stubby little wings tugged at his heartstrings and they were quite useful in the field of pest control.

Ducks were great, not just because they were created by yours truly, one of the first to be created, as a matter of fact, but because their design was, perhaps, the most perfect. Bias? Never heard of them. They were all precious beady eyes and compact little bodies, propelled forward by their little paddle-feet and the cutest call of the entire animal kingdom. Aerodynamics aside, they had all the marvels of science working for them as the oils coating their feathers made it easy for them to keep dry and warm, their environment simply rolling right off their hydrophobic backs in perfectly inconsequential droplets.

Yes, Lucifer had reconsidered his ranking time and time again over the centuries, but nothing had captured the spotlight in his heart quite like the duck had. My, how he envied them sometimes.

He couldn’t exactly place why he was in such a funk. Okay, that was definitely a big fat lie. He knew exactly why he was upset, but he was more concerned with the fact that he continued to be upset a whole week after his argument with Alastor. Try as he might, he just couldn’t get over it.

For a moment, when he had first stormed back to his room, his chest still tight with anger and hurt, he contemplated going back to the palace for a few days to cool off a bit, create some distance between him and certain residents, but he threw that idea out really quick.

While isolation felt like the proper remedy to his current situation, he had gained enough self-awareness in the last few months to understand that whatever desires he had to be alone during times of emotional crises were only a defense mechanism which stemmed from centuries of self-loathing due in part from the trauma he received because of his fall.

Ultimately, being alone would do more harm than good. Not only was he unwilling to put himself on the path to self-destruction again, but he had Charlie to think of. The hotel, too. Not to mention his art therapy classes. Point of the matter was that Lucifer had so many more reasons to stick around than he did to leave. He wouldn’t be chased out of this little nook he’s carved out for himself just because some asshole was mean to him and he definitely wouldn’t be dedicating any more emotional energy to the demon, period.

Or at least that’s what he told himself.

It was an undertaking easier said than done, if he was being honest.

So he turned to another mechanism, this time of the coping kind, which was definitely far less destructive than his first option. He threw himself into his work around the hotel. He took over a few more of Charlie’s duties, such as going through the rest of the interviewees for the yoga instructor position, helped Niffty with some of the chores around the hotel, and he even took over the last-minute details for the Open House that was comin up. It was mainly flier business and securing multi-modal advertisement slots across Pentagram City, but it seemed to be enough.

Another big distraction was the painting he was working on for that same occasion. It was a pleasant distraction, and perhaps the only healthy outlet that the king had at the moment. On the off chance that Charlie had run out of chores or errands for him to run, he snuck into the art studio to work, sometimes all night long and into the early hours of the morning. He was happy with the progress he made, thinking that it should only take a few more sessions before he could call it completed. He could get it done by the end of the week if he skipped a few more dinners. Truthfully, he was glad he didn’t really need to eat, otherwise Charlie would definitely be on his case more about his recent absence at the dinner table.

Unfortunately for him, paint could only dry so fast and he refused to use his power to speed up the process. Some things were better left to nature, after all. Which is exactly how he found himself in his current predicament. He could sit around and literally watch paint dry–he was using oils, so that would take an obscene amount of time–or he could leave it until tomorrow and find something else to occupy his time with in the meantime.

Yup, the latter option seemed much more appealing to him.

Tucking his occupied easel against the wall of the studio, he made quick work of cleaning his brushes and storing his tubes of paint in their rightful place.

Locking the door behind him, Lucifer stood in the hall for a few seconds, glancing first down the hall to his right and then down the hall to his left, pondering what to do next. Dinner should have ended well over an hour ago and there were no more therapy sessions tonight. Around this time, the residents were usually winding down before bed, which meant his possibilities for entertainment were pretty limited.

The night was still young and the thought of him holing himself up in his rooms for a few hours with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling didn’t really appeal to him. It wasn’t like he planned on getting any sleep anyways. If he was being completely honest, he just didn’t feel like being alone at the moment.

Mulling over his options, he opted with heading down to the bar and scoping out the scene. If anything, he could at least count on Husk’s company, granted the bartender wasn’t swamped with patrons. Having made up his mind, Lucifer made the quick walk over to the front of the hotel, crossing the empty lobby before turning into the bar.

It was, by his standards, an improvement from the bar in the original hotel. A lot less green and spooky looking. The ambiance was warmer, much more relaxing and befitting of a place where people could come to unwind and step away from their woes for a bit. Marquise lights lined the walls, filling the room with a perky brightness during the day, though in this late hour they tended to dim them down a bit more. What few posters could be salvaged from the original bar had been framed and hung neatly on the walls alongside a few new vintage pieces and decor. Per Alastor’s insistence, they kept a few other choice decorations, mainly the mounted exotic skulls that he seemed to like for some reason.

Most notable was the massive cork board, hung up at Angel’s insistence. His vision was to turn it into a picture wall where all residents, whether permanent or just passing through, could document their experiences at the hotel. It was a sweet idea, a surprisingly sincere suggestion coming from the spider, but one that was supported wholeheartedly by the staff.

No one really talked about it, but Lucifer knew that they were all thinking of Pentious, the colorful wannabe-overlord-turned-martyr who gave his life defending the hotel against the Exorcists. Lucifer had overheard Angel talking to Husk about how he wished he had taken more photos with his friend before the battle. Although he didn’t know him well, it was obvious that the demon had been a part of the family and his absence was felt deeply.

The photo wall was, in its own way, a means through which they could keep his spirit alive all while serving as a manifestation of the hotel’s core values and beliefs. Looking over it now, Lucifer could see that it had become quite the popular attraction. The space was filling up nicely and he found that he recognized a few of the faces he saw. There was a whole lot of Angel Dust, all sly grins and sultry-eyed in his selfies, but he was pleased to see a lot of the usual suspects too. A few of them boasted a somewhat smiling Husk, which was a miracle in and of itself, while another displayed a gleeful Niffty wielding a knife in one hand with a crown of roaches adorning her bright hair. Her cheeky grin was deceptively sweet.

Lucifer smiled fondly at a photo of Charlie as she threw her arms happily around Vaggie who was planting a sweet kiss on her cheek. His chest filled with warmth at the sight of them, so young and in love, having faced so much already yet never losing sight of what was important to them.

His gaze eventually landed on the largest of the photos, pinned front and center. It was inevitable that he'd see it, really, given its location and the fact that it was the only image printed entirely in black and white. It was a picture of all of them taken at the front of the newly-rebuilt Hazbin Hotel. Behind them was the proud, gleaming statue they had erected in memoriam to Charlie’s beloved Dazzle.

The whole lot of them were smiling, proud of the outcome born of days and weeks of hard work. His daughter stood in the middle, eyes shining as she held up the portrait they’d commissioned of Sir Pentious. Vaggie stood to her right, an arm wound tightly around her partner. She was looking up at Charlie, adoration clear in her gaze as she smiled softly. Next to them, Niffty was standing on top of Cheri’s shoulders, both cyclops grinning widely at the camera, one of Cheri’s decommissioned bombs held tightly in the little housekeeper’s hands as she brandished it over her head menacingly. Cheri, ever the bold character, was flipping off the camera.

He stood on Charlie’s left, eyes squinty in delight, an expression that he found, for some reason, to be odd on himself. Strange, but genuine, and he couldn’t argue with that, he supposed. Husk and Angel stood on his other side, the grumpy old cat having managed to crack a smile as he held a fan of cards in one hand. Angel looked like he was mid-laugh, one arm draped over Husk’s shoulders while another hung loosely around his waist. He leaned into the cat’s side gleefully. The pair was a peculiar one, and while Lucifer was no expert in the realm of relationships, romantic or otherwise, he felt that the two complimented each other well enough.

Finally, his eyes fixated on the last, lone figure at the end. Alastor, in all his cruel glory, stood tall, his cheshire grin tight and arrogant as his eyes shone devilishly. His hands were hidden behind him, his cane was nowhere to be seen, but at least now he knew why. The longer he looked at that stupid face the tighter the knots coiled in his stomach. He was angry. So, so angry. Unreasonably angry. At Alastor and his pride, his sharp tongue, his biting words. He was angry at the sinner’s selfishness, his inability to accept help, his insistence that he didn’t need anyone. More than anything, he was angry at the fact that he was, beyond what he felt for the demon, most angry at himself for feeling guilty about how much he hated him. At the same time, he couldn’t fucking look away from him.

He closed his eyes, willing his fists to unclench. He took deep, cleansing breaths as he counted along in his head to the exercises Charlie had taught them. When he finally managed to wrangle those unpleasant thoughts back into the shitty little box in the back of his mind where they belonged, he opened his eyes again and blew the air out slowly.

Cool. I’m cool. So so cool. Cool and collected and unbothered by life’s many atrocities.

Stepping away from the wall, the king turned his attention back to his original task and wandered over to the back of the room. Now, Lucifer was no expert on bars or anything, mainly because he’d never really visited a human bar and honestly wasn’t particularly fond of the ones they had down here either. Alcohol never appealed to him, though perhaps his opinion on the matter would be different if we could actually get drunk, but he’d seen enough tomfoolery and received enough second-hand embarrassment from inebriated jackasses to know that it wasn’t something he’d ever want to experience anyways. Not that anyone was ballsy enough to invite the King of Hell out for a few cold ones.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t indulge in a drink or two every so often, and as he hopped himself up onto a stool, that was exactly the kind of plan he had in mind. Husk was busy down at the other end of the long counter talking to a few guests and Lucifer busied himself with taking a good look around, swiveling in his seat and leaning back against the bar.

The room itself was sparse, with only a dozen or so demons milling about. A few booths were filled with the odd pair or trio, but for the most part a lot of the patrons were seated alone. Music was playing from the speakers, just loud enough to provide ample ambient sound throughout the room. From the looks of it, no one appeared to be too drunk and Lucifer hoped their luck would be drawn out until the end of the night. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with an obnoxious sinner who didn’t know when they’d had enough to drink. Somewhere to his left some bug-looking demon burst out into a flurry of clicking sounds which Lucifer reckoned were meant to be laughter.

Quiet night, he thought to himself. To be expected of a weeknight, definitely, especially at a place where drinking to forget was typically discouraged and traded for healthier coping mechanisms. That’s okay, Lucifer could do with a quiet night. He swiveled back around.

A few spaces down was, what he assumed to be, an abandoned drink. It was in an opulent looking glass, filled almost all the way with a pretty pink shimmery concoction and garnished with a cherry skewered through with a tiny electric blue umbrella. He eyed it appreciatively.

“What can I get for ya, Your Majesty?” Husk, finally free, made his way over to the ruler, wiping down the bar as he went.

“Husk, we’ve been over this already. You , don’t have to call me that,” he admonished with a look. The bartender simply shrugged his shoulders, swinging the towel over one of his shoulders.

“Whatever you say, Your Majesty ,” he responded with a mischievous smirk. Lucifer groaned while the old cat laughed. “Alright, alright. Fine. What can I get for you, Lucifer?”

“I’ll have one of whatever that’s supposed to be,” he said, gesturing over to the pretty little glitter bomb to his right. Husk looked over at it too, not at all surprised by the man’s choice.

“Should’ve guessed as much. I reckoned you were more of a fruity type of guy. One Primadonna coming right up.”

“Not much use going for the harder stuff if it has no effect on you,” he replied easily, propping up his head with one of his hands. “Plus, the fruity stuff tastes much better. All that other shit tastes like, well, shit.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Husk agreed.

Lucifer watched as the man worked behind the counter, marveling at how easy he made it look. Lucifer himself had a pretty shitty memory, so to say he was impressed by the bartender’s ability to put together all sorts of drink combinations at the drop of a hat without having to consult some kind of recipe was an understatement. It was incredible.

“So what brings you down here tonight, if you don’t mind my asking. You don’t seem like the drinking kind of guy.” The words were aimed at him, even if Husk hadn’t looked up at him while talking.

“I’m not usually,” he shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess I was just tired of being cooped up in my room.” It was an honest response, Lucifer had no reason to say otherwise. Especially to Husk. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to drain the old social battery a bit before calling it a night.”

Husk hummed, cleaning up the edge of the glass before sliding it over to him. “We haven’t seen much of you around here lately.” It wasn’t exactly posed as a question, simply a statement of fact, and while Lucifer knew he meant no harm of it, he deflated a bit at the words. He wrapped both hands around the tall, cold glass, stalling for time while he took a sip. It was, as predicted, very sweet, tangy and cool with a hint of something spicy that added well to the flavor profile. He hummed appreciatively. Husk picked up another glass and began polishing it.

If there was something that Lucifer admired about the bartender, it was his ability to stay in his own lane. He wasn’t offended by what Husk had to say by any means and he assumed that this was just his way of offering a listening ear to the angel’s woes. Or, on the contrary, it could very much be true that the bartender simply didn’t care and was just trying to make small talk. It wouldn’t be entirely out of the question, sure. He was forced into being here, but Lucifer had been around the guy long enough to know that there was a heart somewhere beneath all that tough-as-nails exterior and larger-than-life eyebrows. Either way, Lucifer could respect that he never tried to pry for answers.

He heaved out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know,” he said, deciding to move forward with that line of conversation. “I’ve been…busy.” Busy was maybe not the best way to describe whatever emotional rollercoaster he was going through, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either. “Hotel stuff, you know? Helping Charlie with Open House stuff. I’ve been working on a new painting, too.”

“So I’ve heard,” Husk nodded. He turned around to set the crystal-clear glass on a shelf behind him before going back to the king and picking up another one, setting to work once more. “Angel says it’s coming along well.” Lucifer blinked in surprise.

“He said that?”

“Yup. Says it’s pretty impressive. He was going on and on about it the other night at dinner. Got Charlie all up in tears over it too.” He smirked, pausing as he served Lucifer with a quirked brow. “I gotta say, you’ve got some high expectations to meet.”

“You’re telling me,” he groaned, clapping his hands over his face. “Me and expectations have never quite seen eye-to-eye,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine,” Husk said. He placed the glass down next to him taking another look at the angel in front of him. “You sure that’s all you got on your mind?”

Lucifer pushed one of his fingers aside, fixing the man with a suspicious, narrowed eye through the gap in his hands. “Why do you ask?” Husk lifted his shoulder noncommittally, picking up the glass to resume his cleaning.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly a relaxed man,” he said plainly. “There’s always something you gotta be doing or someone you gotta be talkin’ to. If you’re not out running some errand then you’re hanging around here spazzing the fuck out and scaring the residents with you loud company.” He looked the seated king up and down. “These days have been a little too quiet around here is all I’m saying, and in Hell that’s never a good thing. Figured of there was something botherin’ you, I’m probably the right bartender to talk to.”

Lucifer dropped his hands from his face and hunched his shoulders. Husk was right, there was something bothering him. His problems with a certain red-eyed demon aside, much of his attention had been preoccupied with trying to figure out whose memories he had seen that night in Alastor’s room when he finally broke through the walls of holy energy in Alastor’s cane. He looked down at his hands, bandaged haphazardly. That was another reason why he was making himself scarce: he didn’t know how he would explain how he, an ex-Seraphim of Heaven and the Almighty Ruler of the Damned, was sporting injuries that he couldn’t automatically heal.

He looked up, noticing that Husk was also looking at his open palms. He closed them quickly, hiding them on his lap under the counter. If he was suspicious of anything, Husk didn’t show it, nor did he say a word.

“There are certain, erm, things ,” he started slowly, mindful of his phrasing and careful not to reveal too much. They couldn’t know about this. Not yet, at least. Not until Lucifer knew what “this” even was. “That I’m working through right now. Things I’m not at liberty to discuss. Sorry,” he added sheepishly. He hoped Husk would understand his secrecy. The last thing he wanted was to make the cat feel that he didn’t trust him, but his silence on the matter was for the best.

“Don’t apologize. I get it,” Husk said. Lucifer felt himself relax a little bit. “You’re not the first man to come around here with secrets. You won’t be the last one, either.” Lucifer was expecting the shift in conversation coming up, grateful that Husk was willing to drop the conversation for now. He was not, however, prepared for what exactly that new conversation would be, nor the sidelong glance thrown his way.

“You know, Alastor hasn’t been ‘round much these days either.” And yeah, that was a surefire way to get the gears turning in Lucifer’s head.

“He hasn’t?”

He wasn't sure why that particular fact made him uneasy. Alastor had a tendency to wander off, his own agenda to fulfill and whatnot. Him being gone for a while wasn’t surprising by any means, but it unsettled him nonetheless. Husk hummed, unperturbed.

“It was about time. I’m surprised he’s spent as much time around the hotel as he has in recent months. That guy’s just like you: he can’t sit still.”

Lucifer tried not to be offended that Husk had just compared him to the Radio Demon, choosing to let it go instead of pouting over it like he wanted to.

He cleared his throat, swirling his drink around the glass with his straw and trying so hard to look unbothered by the intel. “So, uh, where’s he been?”

“Fuck if I know. In town somewhere is my best guess. Probably doing something shady, conning some poor asshole out of their soul.” Husk was scowling now, probably recalling how he had come to lose his own soul to the demon in question.

“Town? By himself?” Lucifer couldn’t imagine Alastor wandering around Pentagram City without his cane, his main source for channeling his power. Wasn’t that why he had brought Husk along that one time? For backup?

Maybe his concern was more evident than he had thought, because Husk was looking at him again all weird, eyes narrowed and making Lucifer feel like he was an unwanted smudge on one of the bartender’s glasses.

“Yeah alone, what about it? Boss usually goes out alone.” And Lucifer really didn’t care. He really didn’t want to ask, but he just had to know.

“Did he take his staff?” he blurted. Husk looked at him like he was stupid.

“Yes?”

Oh. Okay. There’s that answer then.

But how ? Alastor knew how dangerous it was to be walking around and it seemed especially irresponsible and illogical that he would risk himself like that. Not to mention how bad his hands would get. Lucifer had already healed them once, he wasn’t too keen on doing that again just because Alastor refused to be seen as anything less powerful than he was. Lucifer gnawed on his lip, anxiety flaring up inside of him for whole new reasons.

“Funny thing is,” Husk interjected his spiraling thoughts, “looked a little different now that you mention it. Newer, not as dramatic. The asshole probably finally got some commonsense and upgraded his equipment.”

Oh .

Against his better judgment, Lucifer went a little gold in the face. Was it hot in here, or was it just the hellfire acting up again?

“A new staff, you said? I have to agree with you there, Husk, it was about time, huh? Ha-ha,” he laughed weakly, suddenly uninterested in his drink and talking to Husk and being anywhere other than his nice warm bed and his dark room where nothing else existed except for him and his hundreds of beloved ducks.

Still, not wanting to be rude, he sipped on his drink until it was all gone. Husk, having seen whatever expression was on his face, didn’t ask any more questions or try to rope him into another unwanted conversation. Instead, he went about collecting glasses and wiping down the countertops, consistent in his never-ending routine.

Once done, Lucifer hopped off his perch, mind swimming with all kinds of thoughts and feelings as he left some money on the counter. He waved a small farewell to the bartender, wishing him good night as he headed out the entryway.

Once out in the hall and out of eyesight, he quickly opened up a portal to his room, eager to put a stop to all this incessant thinking for the rest of the night. Stepping through, he brushed the red sparkles off of his clothes and nearly stumbled over a foreign object placed right in front of his closed door.

Scowling, he looked down at the culprit, finding not one, but two of them.

They were boots. More specifically, they were his boots. Boots that he hadn’t seen in over a week. Boots that he had abandoned in another room in a fit of rage.

Boots he never thought he would see again, to be frank. Yet there they were. One stood neatly in front of his door while the other had been kicked to the side by him by accident.

Boots that could have only been left there by one person.

Fuck me .

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#alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fic #hazbin hotel #ao3 fic #ao3 #inthelandofgodsandmonstersfic #radioapple fic #radioapple #appleradio fic #appleradio #itlogam

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myobsessionsspace · 1 year ago

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Zane Lowe Interview

with Jungkook

youtube

I really appreciated this interview.

Zane and his exceptional interview skills was able to give respect to their journey, pay homage to the other 6 members contribution, respect and highlight their South Korean identity and much more. Yes he is a member of THE BIGGEST GROUP in the world right now. Yes he wouldn’t have gotten to this point without 6 other men giving their blood, sweat and tears also, along with the staff of Big Hit who were right beside them from the beginning until now, who aren’t know to the public.

“Look at this city, 19 floors up and you started out right down there, on the ground right, just running around trying to figure it out and now this whole building exists because, your band and some really smart people who love music formed a partnership and look what you've done, not just for music but for Korea, South Korea for music around the world” Zane Lowe 2023.

The interview was about Jungkook’s solo debut, he seemlessly incorporated his members into the inter y without making it about the members, nor erasing them from Jungkook’s story. I’m not gonna lie, there have been a few times with the members that they’ve been interviewed about their solo projects and I’ve even thought in my head ‘talk more about the member in front of you’🗣️🗣️ Lowe was able to, in my opinion, do it well!

In a bit over 34 minutes Zane Lowe was able to shine a respectful light on Jungkook of BTS. The bilingual subtitles, the Korean subtitles for Zane in addition to the English subtitles for Jungkook really tugged my heartstrings.

So often when the members work hard on their English and use it, channels still put English subtitles at the bottom of their spoken English. Zane and the producers/editors highlighted so subtly that he was ALSO speaking a foreign language not just Jungkook! Bridging The Gap!

Many ‘journalists’ want sound bites from their interviewees, they want a ‘scoop’, to get the interviewee to say something never said before to set their content apart from the rest. Maybe it’s due to Lowe’s musical background, coming up as a DJ, to radio DJ/host, to fronting his own music interview shows both on Radio 1 to Apple Music.

Zane Lowe Interview with mrfeelgood

Zane’s NY Times Interview

The Zane Lowe Show

Maybe it’s due to Lowe’s first hand experience with being a ‘foreigner’ moving from his country of birth, New Zealand, to the UK in his formative years. Maybe it’s just human understanding and compassion, however I greatly appreciated the interview, not just for his clear prowess with interviewing, making the interviewee feel comfortable, allowing them to speak, to formulate their thoughts, to add to them and keep the conversation going, to not bring up uncomfortable or irrelevant topics etc.

Lowe’s career spans over two decades of interviewing some of the most well known and not so well know names in the entertainment industry.

But also I appreciated the interview for the lack of subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) digs that the western media have made at the k-pop ‘machine’, the lack of teasing and sometimes thinly veiled derision towards the parasocial relationship BTS and ARMY, the lack of dismissal of BTS’ accolades and achievements and I thoroughly thoroughly appreciated the absence of my least favourite direction people take when interviewing the members the ‘who do you want to collaborate with’ or ‘what’s your favourite *insert country* food’ or any uncomfortable personal life/relationship questions.

Lowe’s incredible interview with Halsey, in the interview she talks about BTS and also her collaboration with SUGA for SUGA’s Interlude

The only other interviews that hold place in my memories for good have been those with Zach Sang and also Sakshma Srivastav (though her person is now ‘controversial’ to some ARMY).

see below for links to mentioned interviews

Yes it’s true Jungkook didn’t say any much more than what he’s already said up until now, to be honest I’ve taken away more from Jungkook’s unscheduled weverse lives, but I didn’t expect him to. The purpose of this interview (in my opinion) was to give insight into the solo artist Jungkook of the active group BTS, to the general public, with a little sprinkled in for ARMY. In that light, this interview was *chefs kiss* and was a cherry on top of GOLDEN’s promotional period.

💜

Mentioned Interviews

youtube

#Jungkook #GOLDEN by Jungkook #Zane Lowe #Interview #RM #Indigo Interview #BTS #Interviews

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btass99 · 5 months ago

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My review of “The Sword of Kaigen”

Since no one warned me, I’m here for the people! DO NOT READ THIS BOOK UNLESS YOU HAVE A FULL DAY TO YOURSELF! I MEAN IT!

(Spoilers ahead sweetie)

I started reading this book as I usually do, all happy and excited to enter a new world but then, the worst enemy of any reader came to visit- Life! And this isn't the kind of book you can read while doing your everyday activities , oh no sir, because then you'll find yourself crying your eyes out on a bus on your way to work and trust me, it is as embarrassing as it sounds.

I started the book completely blank, aside from the awesome reviews I had read. They said this book was the best they’d ever read and that it was completely underrated. As the pretentious little book reader that I am, I wanted to judge for myself. Frankly, I think "The Sword of Kaigen" is a really well-made and thoroughly thought-out story!

I saw that the author started writing this series when she was twelve, so it's no wonder she knew her characters inside and out. Each character had unique traits that made them well-developed individuals. None of them were perfect, and I often found myself frustrated with their behavior, but their imperfections made them feel more human to me, rather than just words on a page.

The world-building of the story had some issues. I noticed some plot holes and unrealistic settings that bothered me. For example, the story was set in a place that seemed like the Tokugawa Period but included electricity. This seemed contradictory as I expected the setting to be more advanced and modern. Additionally, there was a TV in the characters' home, but none of them had phones or computers, which seemed odd.

Another issue was with the whole Emperor plot. The Matsudas were the reason the Emperor could continue to rule, yet he still treated them poorly even after they were nearly wiped out. I understand that it was a way to show how the emperor didn't care about his people, but I expected at least a bit of political hypocrisy where they would be publicly thanked, ensuring the soldiers' unconditional loyalty to the government by providing them with goods and services Bluh bluh bluh.

In my opinion, the relationships are the reason this book was so good- the children, the mothers, the newly formed family. The redemption arcs and the bond between mother and child that has shattered my heart.

(I am not lying, I literally cried for an entire hour and couldn't function normally the next day).

It was then I realized that M.L. Wang was no ordinary author. She had a way of tugging at your heartstrings and manipulating them at will. I felt like a puppet in her Avatar-like story, and I don't think I'll ever recover. The grief was so intense that it was agonizing for me to continue reading and see how everyone coped after losing such an important character whom I had grown to love within 200 pages when there are characters I can't seem to like after two whole books!

I want to mention that the fight scenes were incredibly well-written and detailed. I typically skip battle scenes in books because I find it hard to imagine them, but M. L. Wang's descriptions were so vivid and thorough that I felt like I was right there fighting alongside the characters. Amazing writing.

I am genuinely curious about the future M. L. Wang envisioned her characters however, it is uncertain when we will get more books from this world she has created.

In the meantime. I will read the rest of the books she has published and will wait patiently for her inspiration to resurrect.

#the sword of kaigen #Mlwang #goodreads #review #romance #books #fantasy #japanese fantasy

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blueberryshelves · 8 months ago

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_______________________________________________

Book Review

Title: How to Fake Date a Vampire Author: Linsey Hall

Series: Charming Cove, book #2

No. of Pages: 342

ISBN: 9781648820335

Synopsis:

Faking it with a vampire duke should be easy, right?

I’ve got one chance to prove to my coven that I’m worth my wand. But to do it, I'm going to have to make a deal with a vampire duke. I get to use his gorgeous estate in Cornwall to host the Beltane Ball--and in exchange, I'll pretend to be his girlfriend. But it's all a show for his grandmother.

The rules of our fake relationship are simple: No flirting. No emotion. No sex. Easy, right? Except I can't seem to ignore the allure of the infuriating and devastatingly sexy vampire. Falling for a duke isn’t an option, though. I would lose the anonymity that protects me and my coven, and that would ruin my life--and the lives of the other witches in my coven.

So yeah, totally easy. How to Fake-Date a Vampire is a fun, frothy romantic comedy full of laughter, love, and magical hijinks. It’s the second in a series of stand alone romances set in the seaside village of Charming Cove. The books do not need to be read in order.

_______________________________________________

What did I think of the book?

How to Fake-Date a Vampire by Linsey Hall My rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 of 5 stars I’m really not a fan of vampire books, but this one thoroughly surprised me. Out of all three of the current books in the Charming Cove series, this one had the best written romance, pacing, and twists in the story. I’m still riding the reader’s high as I write this up, it hits all the emotions I was hoping for from a romance novel, but I really wish there wasn’t so much wealth-bashing in the book because there were so many great things about the story, but that element got tiresome really quick. At times, it did get a little irritating with the MC Emma being as judgy as she was, along with the constant back and forth of the “real/not real” situation of hers and Alaric’s relationship. But their romance flowed the best out of all the books in the series so far, and felt like there was a properly established connection between the two of them before things grew more intense and intimate. This made the conflict have that much better of an impact in the story, so much so that it tugged the heartstrings pretty hard when that part happened. The love making scene was also the nicest in this book compared to the others as well, not overly graphic, and not cut short or rushed. It was quite a beautiful scene. Now, as a disclaimer, I don’t think hardcore vampire fans would like this book. The way the vampires are depicted is basically humans who occasionally spike their drinks with blood. But that works for me. Favorite character/s: Obviously Penelope the skunk familiar, because who wouldn’t love a fashion conscious skunk with an appetite and the ability to scare away unwanted people? I really love the familiars in this series. Alaric’s family, because reading their scenes gave me a lot of warm and wholesome feelings throughout the book. What drew me to the book? Quite frankly, my bias of vampire books had me not particularly drawn to this one despite the beautiful cover design that this series has. But I gave it a chance since I had enjoyed the other two books in the series, and am glad I did. Stars: 4/5, because aside from the rough dialogue, slightly rushed ending, and my personal feelings about the book’s themes, I really liked this one a lot. I would enjoy reading it again in the future. View all my reviews

See my reviews for: The Modern Girl's Guide to Magic, Charming Cove book #1! & Romance Rules for Werewolves, Charming Cove book #3!

#book review #how to fake date a vampire #linsey hall #witches #vampires #magic #spirits and ghosts #beltane ball #romance #fiction #booklr #bookblr #book blog #books #bookish #bookworm #books and reading #book photography

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fairyquill · 10 months ago

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as a sapphic lover of musicals, i enjoyed mean girls a lot! it was a fun time. c:

as someone who knows the original musical by heart and is passionate about adaptations, i do have a lot of thoughts!

they definitely gave the songs a pop remix makeover in attempt to appeal to a mainstream audience... some of them i liked, some of them not so much. i prefer the broadway soundtrack, maybe out of familiarity, but i could see why someone else might prefer the movie's interpretation. this is the musical in a brand new form so i like that they tried something different. it makes total sense that certain things got changed around or cut. (not that i agree with every choice that was made, but i digress.)

i think cady's role and songs suffered the most from these changes. her lines were sung very softly and prettily... but her songs weren't particularly memorable. regina stole the whole show away from her. i knew she would going in, but still.

regina's songs were excellent, as expected! i love a good villain song and enjoyed myself thoroughly through every single one. sexy was also solid! random note, but i'm also so glad they nixed the 'i never weigh more than 115' line in regina's intro / the fat-shaming jokes.

making cady meek and soft-spoken was a choice. it was interesting to see a brand new take on her character and she did come across like a relatable teenage kid. the actress did great with what she was given. (her emotional moments towards the end of the film tugged at my heartstrings, too.) however, i think seeing her like that made it clearer than ever that cady needs more spunk if she's going to hold a candle to regina george.

it really showed in apex predator when they gave cady's 'and though janis is great she does not have this power, people literally cower, janis can't do that' line to damian instead. that whole song is supposed to be cady strategizing how she's going to survive high school based on what she knows about animals and how they interact. apex predator fell flat for me because the movie musical's cady seemed more like an innocent observer amidst all the chaos in the hall. meanwhile, the musical cady is full of boundless enthusiasm and takes a more active role in pursuing the plastics for her own gain.

also, changing direction here... but there was waaaay too much of the actors looking directly at the camera. like. stop that! (maybe it was a stylistic choice bc the film started out being filmed on a phone? idk but i was not a fan of that haha.) i did like how the movie started and ended in the garage and how that was handled tho.

i understand why they cut a lot of songs from the second act, especially those that don't really contribute to moving the story forward, but i think they should have at least kept more is better or do this thing. (i get why they cut more is better if they didn't want aaron singing... but that song ties everything together with i see stars at the end / gives us a little time to check in with cady after her plastic transformation.) the end of the movie dragged for me-- it was mostly the new actors reenacting scenes from the original movie. when they were talking through scenes i knew the musical had specific songs for it was a bit frustrating to watch. those songs could have moved the story from one scene to the next in a new way-- this is supposed to be a musical after all!

anyway-- regardless of these thoughts i still had a good time watching mean girls! there were a lot of things to love about this adaptation. the costumes, the representation, the cameos and some of the tweaks they made to the story. regina george. saying outright that janis is gay and seeing her go to prom w a girl! the new lore, the new jokes. (the comedy of regina getting hit by the bus in the bg as janis finishes singing i'd rather be me.) regina george. seeing a new movie musical in theaters is always a treat and i had a lot of fun watching this one!

#mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #txt.#i had so many thoughts i just had to write them all down somewhere haha

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womanofwords · 1 year ago

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STEM Kids Shenanigans (Chapter 14)

Chapter 14: Public Opinion

Layla knew that what people thought of you was important, at least to a degree. She also knew that, at least at this school, who you hung out with influenced what other people thought you were like. If you hung out with the bullies, then that meant you were a bully by association. And if you spent a lot of time with the teachers, then that made you a teacher's pet. Layla knew that by that logic, spending time with the other members of the STEM club made her an uncool science nerd, but she didn't care.

But then she heard what public opinion really thought.

"Get a move on, nitwits!" Melanie yelled at a group of kids standing around in the corridor for too long, while her supervisor looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Don't make me say it again!"

"Stop trying to make yourself seem cool. The science club people are cooler than you ever could be," one of them sneered, as they went to find somewhere else to spend their time.

Melanie gasped. The STEM club kids, those delinquents . . . were considered cool? She knew that being a prefect wasn't a responsibility that people would admire you for holding, but she figured that she would at least be feared instead of reviled.

Layla, sheltering inside the shadows of a convenient stairwell, was also shocked. She was considered cool? But that was impossible! According to the calculations of her older sister Aaliyah, that should mean that Jahannam (hell) had frozen over. Nice, she thought, sneaking away from her hiding spot.

(PAUSE)

"Hello, class," Miss Powers, the art teacher said. An enthusiastic yet flighty woman with hoop earrings and funky patterned dresses who seemed to float, not walk, around the classroom. "This sector will be about collages and learning how to mix and match. So I will be lining you up and splitting you into random groups so you learn how to mix and match people like your own personal collage."

People groaned and complained, but they did it. Miss Powers selected people at complete random, while Layla bit her lip. This just had to be the one class that she had with Melanie. Luckily, her STEM club friends from tutor were there, so there was a small chance that she would get to have at least one of them. But they were picked off one by one, moved to other tables that felt miles away. Melanie smirked at the four STEM students being split up, but that wouldn't last long. "Melanie, you, Layla, and Marty can go to that small table at the back," Miss Powers said.

"OK," Layla said, her heart sinking and hiding behind her intestines.

"Miss Powers, Miss Powers, I can't do this," Melanie said.

"What's wrong, Melanie?" Miss Powers asked.

"Layla is a delinquent and I refuse to sit next to her in case she does something to me," Melanie snapped. Layla's eyes widened.

"I wouldn't hurt you!" Layla insisted. "I want nothing to do with you!"

"I want to sit next to the more reputable students, like Hope," Melanie replied.

"No, Melanie, you're staying here for the duration of the lesson," Miss Powers said.

Melanie giggled nervously and glared at Layla. "Miss Powers, there has to be another way. Can't we just put all the delinquents together so nobody has to be burdened with sitting with them?"

"That poor girl," Marty said. "Sitting next to someone so horrible is certainly going to take its toll on her."

Melanie smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Marty."

"I was talking to Layla," Marty said. Layla's face grew hot while others laughed. A few kids even cheered. Melanie looked incensed.

Melanie's voice grew whiny and wheedling, trying to tug on the teacher's heartstrings. "I'm not asking for much, am I, Miss Powers? I don't want to sit next to troublemakers because it will impact my marks."

"That's your problem, isn't it?" Layla said.

"What did you say?" Melanie snapped.

"Your problem. Well, problems, really. You've got a lot of those."

The brunette bristled. "How dare you?"

"The first one is the way that you enforce the rules with your job as a prefect. You're so strict with enforcing the rules that even the minor rules end up getting major consequences for breaking them. Not to mention you're a bully while you do it, calling people nitwits, threatening detentions, and being generally rude."

"I'm not a bully!"

"Oh, really? That's what you deny? Not all the other things that I mentioned?" Layla raised an eyebrow with confusion and scorn.

"I'm not a bully. Everyone else just has no respect for authority," Melanie said. The stare she was giving Layla could kill a man. But Layla wasn't a man.

"That leads quite nicely to your second problem. Because of the way that you enforce and, frankly, inflate the instances of rule-breaking that you find and catch, even the nicest kid can become a troublemaker in your eyes for the most trivial of things. If you refused to sit next to every troublemaker in the school, you'd be sitting all alone forever."

"No, I wouldn't! I wouldn't do anything to . . ." Melanie scanned the room wildly until she saw bookish, quiet Hope, sitting at the back and trying not to look at what Melanie was going through. "To Hope!" Melanie said, pointing at the shy bookworm.

"You mention Hope a lot. Is there anybody else that fits your standards?" Angelo asked.

"Not you, Riva," Melanie snarked.

If Angelo was upset by this, he didn't show it. He just smiled and shrugged. "That's OK. I can live with that."

"See?" Miss Powers said, gesturing towards Angelo. She'd been silent while Layla and Melanie were arguing, so when she spoke again, it made people jump. "Fluidity like that is just what we need in this class! Melanie, you should look to him as an example!"

"I'd rather vomit," Melanie snarled. She turned to Layla and started barking orders. "Don't you dare talk to me unless it's necessary, delinquent."

"That won't be a problem," Layla said.

(PAUSE)

This wasn't the only outburst that Melanie had. Afternoon register came by and they were late. Mr Oluwatola gave them a disapproving look as they filed in, but that was it. The other, much more obviously weird thing was that Melanie wasn't there. The normally punctual prefect was mysteriously absent.

"Does anybody know where Melanie is?" Mr Oluwatola asked. Nobody answered. "Well?"

"Mr Oluwatola, you will not believe this," Melanie wailed, holding a piece of paper. "The school is rife with bullying, and here's the proof!" She shoved a piece of paper under the teacher's nose.

"Melanie, this is a popularity poll about whether people like the STEM club or the prefects better," Mr Oluwatola said. "And the STEM club won."

Layla choked on the apple juice she was drinking. "What?"

"I know! It's horrible!" Melanie sobbed. "Why would anybody want to vote for the STEM club? It's their fault that I got covered in orange goo!"

Silence reigned supreme. Everyone stared at the four nerds at the back of the room.

"LEGENDS!" Marty yelled, and everyone cheered. Layla's jaw dropped. Dante covered his ears. Angelo hid his face behind his hands.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Yujin whispered to nobody in particular.

"Class! CLASS! SETTLE DOWN!" Mr Oluwatola yelled. "We do not act like this in school!"

"Legends!" Marty yelled again. "You are legends! You pranked Snitch Sainsbury!"

"Don't call me Snitch Sainsbury, or you'll get detention!" Melanie yelled. She got shouted down fast.

"You always say that!"

"You'd give detention to a baby if you could!"

"Just shut up! This is why literally nobody likes you except for Stephan the Snake!" As Mr Oluwatola tried to get the class to settle down a second time, the STEM club whispered amongst themselves.

"So everybody knew who Stephan was," Dante whispered to Angelo, Layla and Yujin. "Wish somebody had told me."

"Me too." Angelo sat back in his chair. "But I'm not too fussed about it. So long as my little sister loves me, then there's no reason for me to worry."

"Aww!" Yujin cooed.

"Angelo, what did you even do to get her to be so happy to see you?" Dante said.

"I had to a lot of work to get that reaction," Angelo admitted. "I learned how to juggle, how to sew so I could repair her future stuffed toys, how to cook and bake so I could have an activity to use to bond with her-"

"Dude, did you go to big brother boot camp?" Layla spluttered.

"I've never had a younger sibling before. I want to get things right," Angelo said. "I don't care what anybody thinks. I want my little sister to be happy. I don't have enough money to buy her fancy things, so I'll have to learn how to do practical things so we can bond."

Layla smiled at the embarrassed Italian dork. "Relax. You're doing amazing. Your little sister loves you to pieces and she's going to think that you're the best big brother in the whole world."

"Thank you," he said. "See you at my place."

(PAUSE)

When the four came over to Angelo's house, they got to see even more of Angelo spoiling his baby sister. "Angie, fix hair, please?" she asked, walking over to him with a head of rapidly deteriorating hair.

"Good job asking, Mirella," Angelo said, sitting Mirella down and redoing her hair. Mirella whined and whimpered her way through it, while his friends looked at him with adoration. Dante started teasing him.

"Mirella just goes to you for anything," Dante said. "It's like you have all the necessary skills a three-year-old would want someone to have."

"Angie do everything!" Mirella helpfully told them, just as Angelo started redoing her hair into Dutch braids.

"Aww!" Yujin cooed.

"You really learned everything to be the best big brother!" Layla said.

Mirella felt the need to interject once again. "Angie the best! Angie the best bubba! And Mirella picepess!"

"I know, Mirella," Angelo said. "You are a principessa. Tiny principessa." Mirella giggled.

"Angelo, what does principessa mean?" Dante asked.

"It means princess in Italian. She wants me to call her a princess in Italian," Angelo said. Mirella ran away and came back with a ladybird toy.

"Angie, fix Tikki, please?" she asked, holding up her toy.

"Tikki?" Layla asked.

"My little sister likes to watch this French TV show called Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir," Angelo explained. "It's way too old for her, and she doesn't understand any of the plot stuff, but she knows and remembers this ladybug-themed miraculous called Tikki. She wanted it, and I got it for her. I made it for her myself." He took the toy from his sister's hand and examined it with an eagle eye. "Ah, I see your issue. The shoulder's maladjusted, and that should be easy to fix. Excuse me." Angelo left with his little sister in tow.

"Damn, Angelo being a big brother makes me look inadequate," Dante said.

"He's so sweet," Yujin said, staring dreamily at the door. "It's a good sign when they're good with kids."

"When who's good with kids?" Layla asked.

"Nothing!" Yujin yelped, blushing red.

"I'm back!" Angelo returned without Mirella. "Mirella's with Uncle Antonio to give us some space."

"More like to give you a break from being her personal butler," Dante teased.

"Yeah, that too," Angelo admitted, his face turning red. Layla was about to bask in the moment a little more when she got a text from her mother.

You've been at your friend's house too long. Come home.

"I have to go home now. Bye, guys!" Layla said, grabbing her stuff and making a quick exit. Her friends were cool, but nothing was worth having an angry mother to deal with.

To read the other parts of this fic, see Masterlist.

#creative writing #my writing #my WIP #writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr #writerscommunity #science fiction #science nerds #friendship #humour #autistic black boys #fantasci tumblr

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tarnishedxknight · 2 years ago

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Basch's protective instincts had flared terribly at the sight of Carter beginning to check out. He somewhat understood that her wounds could mend themselves from what she had explained to him, but even so, he was concerned. Perhaps it was more for her mental health that he was so concerned, but feeling horrible physically would surely not help things. Setting aside his own aches and pains and exhaustions, Basch stayed close to Carter, letting her hold onto him if she needed to and sitting with her for the trip back to the compound. Once there, he brought her straight to her quarters.

Wholly focused on what she needed and how best to care for her, he decided that getting her clean was a good place to begin. Of course, this presented an obvious dilemma. It was highly inappropriate for him to go undressing her. And yet... she was clearly impaired at the moment, and he meant nothing untoward. He thought it best that she be cared for, if she wished it, and he was more than capable of keeping things strictly professional with regard to him touching her.

But of course that would have to be her decision entirely. He led her to the bathroom and had her sit down on the closed toilet seat while he drew her a hot bath. While the water ran, he crouched before her, seeing her eyes so distant and pained. "Will you be alright on your own?" he asked softly. "I do not wish to overstep my bounds, but if you wish my help..." Ah, but she was so far away. Basch watched her for a moment before deciding she was in no condition to give consent for him to help bathe her, and so he simply waited for the water to fill the tub and then looked to her again. "Take your time. I will wait outside. Alright?"

There was no response, and so he turned to slowly leave, making it just outside the door before he heard her ask him to stay. Turning back, he wondered if she truly knew what she was saying. The look in her eyes was a bit more present, though, if not more thoroughly pained and unnerved. Standing before her once more, he held out his hands to her. "As you wish," he whispered as he helped lift her to stand. He let her remove as much clothing as she wished, taking the discarded and bloodied garments and setting them aside as she went.

Basch went slowly with Carter, helping her into the tub and letting her acclimate to the water for a second. "'Tis alright, Carter..." he whispered in an attempt to comfort her, but when she began to speak of him seeing her this way and looked so ashamed, it tugged at his heartstrings terribly. Since he would likely get wet from the waist up anyway, he slipped out of his Under Armor shirt. "I have scars, too. There is no shame in having any of them, just as there is no shame in you having them either," he said softly as he wet a washcloth, soaped it up, and began to gently wash the blood from her skin.

He hoped that by giving her his own scars to look at, it might serve to distract her from her own misery. There were plenty for her to choose from. Everything from random puncture and slash scars from various battle wounds, to the rather broad scars from the front all the way to the backs of each of his shoulders from the iron harness he was hung in while imprisoned. He also had numerous scars in criss-cross patterns on his back from being flogged while imprisoned, which she might glimpse each time he turned to wet the washcloth in the water.

While he washed her, he continued to speak gently to her. "As for your emotional state... do you think I have never found myself feeling the same? Countless times. There is no shame in this, and you are not alone." Gods... what he would not have given so many times in his life for someone to say such things to him. "Let yourself feel it, this sorrow and unrest, even if it hurts. 'Tis better than repressing it." Advice he should take himself... "If there is anything you wish to discuss, I am here. Otherwise, sometimes silence can be a blessed peace for the weary." With that, he fell silent, giving her time and space to speak if she wanted, but focusing on getting her warm, clean, and grounded again.

@tarnishedxknight (Basch) sent: ‘ 🛁 reverse ‘

A part of Carter wanted to turn him away. To ask him to leave her alone so she could tend to herself like she always had, but...

She couldn't think straight. Although successful, the mission had taken a heavy toll on her. She fought hard, and everything hurt because of it. Although the serum had healed her wounds, her body still hurt. The reactor weighed heavy in her chest, and she could hardly breathe, with each shallow breath rattling out as she struggled not to focus on it. As she struggled to get her mind back to the present. But she felt as though she were going to collapse with each step, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep - regardless of the dried blood that stuck to her skin and clothes. Regardless of how much the idea of a hot bath sounded good.

She was fine. It could wait.

But Basch must've asked her, or perhaps he knew it was what she needed, and she was hardly aware of her surroundings as he helped her into her bathroom. She was going through the motions - her mind numb as a part of herself remained shut down from the mission - and only stared blankly as he started a hot bath. Was he saying something to her? Was he not? Maybe he was asking if he should stay - she couldn't understand him. She couldn't hear anything from her left ear, but her mind struggled to process what she could hear, and--

"Stay. Please."

Her voice was weak - unsteady and hoarse. Was that even what he was asking her? Maybe. Hopefully. Because as her mind slowly came to and she began to realize what was happening, it felt like it was getting harder to breathe, and she--

She didn't want to be alone.

Slowly, Carter began to strip from her bloodied clothes - her movements pained - before she unsteadily got into the tub. Not... really processing that Basch could now see the reactor for what it was. Could see all the scars that littered her skin. And... frankly, not even caring that he could. He already knew of the reactor. She could trust him. She knew she could.

She remained sitting upright and hunched over herself, however, even as he began to help bathe her. As he washed the dried blood from her skin. Even as the hot water slowly began to ease her muscles, and even as her chest loosened enough for her to finally breathe. His touch was gentle, his presence comforting, and even as her mind slowly came more and more to... she couldn't shake her exhaustion, and it took everything in her to not lean against the side of the tub as if she could lean into him. A part of her felt as though she should be horrified he was seeing her in such a state, but she just... didn't care.

A shaky breath fell from her lips, and she shifted slightly - wincing at the lingering tension - and finally turned her attention to Basch. Her gaze dull and... almost defeated. Could she tell him how much she hated mission? Should she? Or would she just be whining? Maybe...

"I..." Her throat tightened, and her gaze dropped. Guilt swelling in her heavy chest. No. It... it wasn't worth complaining. "Tha-thank you. I... I'm- I'm sorry you ha-have to se-see me li-like this..."

#starcchild #basch x carter #{ knightly avenger } ᵐᶜᵘ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #tw: trauma #tw: scars #tw: wounds #{i always get them mixed up too hahaha}#{but you're good this is what i meant}

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winterarmyy · 2 years ago

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Soulmate!Bucky Fics Recs

Each of the fics will have the author account listed as well, I implore you to go check all of their works because they are as equally delightful as the ones that I've listed in these.

Do follow, like, comment and reblogs these works to support the authors and their works.

Check out this masterlist for the recs for other genres!

Navigation:

"Type" is basically the type of fic, oneshot or series, complete or ongoing, and is it fluff, angst, etc.

"Teaser" is my own way of explaining the summary of the fic.

"Review" is my take on the fic. I won't really comment on the writing so much because I'm not qualified to judge them lol. So, I will just leave some review about how i feel when/after I read the fics and what i love about it.

Genre tags: 🥀 - angst ⛓ - smut 🐇 - fluff 🖤 - dark

While You Sleep by @beyondspaceandstars

Type: series, completed – 🥀 🐇

Teaser: In which you can see glimpses of your soulmate's life while you sleep. While the memories of the soulmate of every single person in this world come in form a dream, yours came haunting like a nightmare. But, that tends to happen when your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Review: It's so angstyyyyyy but soft angst type of shit. At least that's how I would describe it. Like, it tugs your heartstrings with just the right amount of force, to make it stings and not bruising?? There's also this realistic aspect of it, where the reader is basically been dreaming of the Winter Soldier's deeds and missions that her mentality is affected; so she doubts, and she's scared, and she doesn't know what to expect or do, which was very much valid for someone that had been (kind of) witnessing gruesome crimes for her entire life, especially when sleep are supposed to be resting your body and mind. I like that she take time to warm up, and know Bucky Barnes for who he is. More to compliment but I suggest you read it yourself!

Howlite and Hearts by @authoressskr

Type: oneshot, completed – 🐇

Teaser: A world where dragon exists. Each person will have their own when they are born to the world and they will stick with their owners. Some cases, the dragon might go the soulmate's side instead of their owners. Those cases could be vary, maybe the owner died. Or he fell of the train during WWII, which leads to why the reader has both hers and her soulmate's dragon with her. And unbeknownst to the reader, Avenger!Bucky is on mission to find both his dragon and his soulmate.

Review: The dragons are cute asf! Makes me want to have one for my own. I love the fantasy-esque to it! The fic is heavy on the 'searching' part so there's not much interaction between reader and Bucky but I still fell in love with the writing anyway!

Moments & Pretence by @bxckyfxcknbxrnes

Type: series, completed –🥀 ⛓

Teaser: In which the first words that you will hear from your soulmate is engraved on your wrist. "I love you" is such a sweet thing to be craved in your wrist, doesn't it? But, it is entirely different when your soulmate says it to someone else.

Review: I'm just saying, this is purely, utterly just pain. It was a mistake to read this before going to sleep because I wept until I pass out. It's the one-sided pining that crushed me. It hits home on another level. That's why I cry easily, it's because I'm weak to those type of trope. But, alas this made it to the list, right? So, it's a good read truly, it's just... it's a painful process. But, I thoroughly enjoy it anyway!

The Owl and The Wolf by @waiting4inspiration

Type: oneshot, completed – 🐇

Teaser: In which everybody in world has their own spirit animal in a physical form. They are paired with you since birth. They are able to communicate only with you and your soulmate. So when Bucky heard the your owl speaks, he knew that you were his soulmate. But, how long will he keep it a secret?

Review: Another one of soulmates trope with animal partner. Well, the other one are just dragons but you get what I mean. I love the animals; they're cute yet sassy. I also love the idea that Bucky can hear everything the owl comments and him trying so hard not to react to any of them. I wish I could see more of those interaction but it's a very straightforward and solid oneshot after all. I also love the way they all find out about Bucky and the reader's soulmate situation. Give it a read, it'll make your day!

One Single Thread of Gold by @sluttystucky

Type: oneshot, completed – 🐇

Teaser: The first words that your soulmate will speak to you will appear on your wrist when you reach the age of sixteen. It been known that there are all kinds of words engraved on people's wrist, from either it is simple greetings or unique statement. But what are the odds when the words on your wrist contains his name as well.

Review: First of all, the title?! Although anything taylor swift related will be automatically my fav, but to be fair i’m also in love with the storyline! I like the anticipation of the reader, something about the way she waits for him to find her. The curiosity for the meaning behind the words that’s engraved on her wrists thoooo, makes me also wonder why he would say such things to her. I was not ready for the plot-twist, but I enjoyed it nonetheless!

Pretty When You Cry by @bellasburdens

Type: series, completed – 🥀 🖤 ⛓

Teaser: Soulmates are connected through this strong pull between the pair. It is as if they shared the same soul; they can feel what you feel. Though there's so many ways a person can meet their soulmate, and bond naturally. Bucky just had to fuck it up when he forced himself into her life.

Review: Bruhh-- like BRUHH-- the mixed feelings that I developed throughout the whole series. I had to take a break to ponder in between the scenes of Bucky’s advances towards the reader. I question my own moral values when I fell for his words istg like, I really went into a crisis at one point but then i remember this is just a fic and I don’t need to think realistically, lmao. It’s not the darkest fic I’ve ever read but it does effect me the most. If you’re okay with dark fic, definitely give this a read!!

See The World The Way You Do by @vanderlustwords

Type: oneshot, completed – 🐇

Teaser: Everybody is born with a monochrome vision until they meet their soulmate. Bucky's is colored with black and white, but he was lucky to be able to see more than that when he was in the 40's. He had lost his soulmate and thought it was the last time he will ever be in love. So, imagine his suprise when little sparks of colors gradually fill his vision the more he spends time with you.

Review: There’s something fluffy about Bucky hiding the fact he saw colors because of her and how he adored the reader even with the mix-match colors of her attire. I also like the way Bucky thinks, I mean his thought process. It’s not too depressing yet not too optimistic either. Something melancholy about it, bitter-sweet-ish. The whole “choosing his tie” thing, got me squealing in the middle of the night. So fluffy! Urghhh!

My Night Demons by @themorningsunshine

Type: oneshot, completed – 🥀 🐇

Teaser: Every person in the world have the privilege to meet and communicate their soulmates through their dream. In Bucky's case, his dreams aren't the loveliest to experience, far from it even. His nightmares has always been the same concept; everything was gruesome and horrid. They always share the similar palette; dark, grey and crimson red. But, one day, he caught sight of something out of the ordinary. The yellow sundress was completely out of place. So does the girl wearing it.

Review: I love thisssssss! The reader has such a comforting presence for Bucky. I don’t what is is but the way how everything in Bucky’s dream was just saddening and depressing but then there’s the reader, so out of place and something about it feels ethereal to me. Like she’s a literal angel glowing so brightly within the dark and horrific nightmares. I love all of the dream scenes so much, especially the first and the last! I think there will be a sequel but I don’t know when will it drop though.

Flowers Bloom by @revengingbarnes

Type: series, completed – 🥀 🐇

Teaser: When a person bleed, flowers will bloom on their soulmate skin on that exact spot. Though it is a beautiful sight on one side but imagine the pain for the other. So, when her entire left shoulder bloomed with flowers ever since she was born, she often wonder what happend to her soulmate and how he is doing.

Review: This was absolutely stunning. The concept is right in my alley! I’ve always love “making something beautiful into something slightly dark/ opposite” and vice versa. This was not dark at all just so you know, but idea of it though. Like imagine if someone cut themselves (for self-harm purposes) and the soulmate will have the flowers across their wrists. Like imagine knowing your soulmate is suffering and you're just there not being able to help. That hurts in a different level. This is not even related to the fic but yknow, I like to feel that type of pain; and this fic will definitely make you feel them. But it was written so beautifully that you might get gaslight to believe that everything is fine and fluffy.

365 Days by @abovethesmokestacks

Type: series, completed – 🥀 🐇

Teaser: In which everybody has a timer where they should be able to find their soulmate. The 25 years seemed like a lot of time, until she realized that she only have 365 days remaining to find him. This is the story a girl desperately trying to seek for her soulmate.

Review: I had so much fun reading this. I took me on a roller coaster of a unexpected emotions! A moment i was giggling and laughing, then the next i might find myself trying to hold back my tears. The reader is somewhat relatable, well at least for me. We goof around a subject that is clearly sensitive for us in front of people; and then there are moments when we're alone, the loneliness and grief comes creeping in. That's when the reality really hits you hard. Go ahead and read this fic, you won't regret it!

What’s in a Name? by @ciarawritesmarvel

Type: oneshot, completed – 🥀 🐇

Teaser: In which the name of the person you love will appear on your shoulder. Though there 3 different colors which represents different meaning; blue means unrequited, red means mutual, and black means deceased. She had his name in blue since she was nothing but a child. After years of pining over him, she wondered, will it stay the same? Or will it change to the way she hoped for?

Review: It is sort of a soulmate au? Not the typical one though and oh my gosh this was so cute and fluffy! I wanna hug Bucky and squish his face in my chest, like you have no idea how adorable he was when he's 5 y.o and 10 y.o! Absolutely cuteeee! Keep punching the air like a mad person. But anyway, I love the concept of the story, I wish this was a series but I'm still thankful for it to exist nonetheless!

Note: Will update more in the future! Feel free to recommend me fics too, I might list them in this as well!

#bucky fic rec #bucky fic recs #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #alpha!bucky #avenger!bucky #soulmate!bucky #40s!bucky #tfatws!bucky

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zukka-fic-recs · 3 years ago

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Zukka WIP Fic Recs

The following fics have all been updated in March 2022, and I am thoroughly enjoying all of them. ❤️

Burning Bright by @erisenyo

Available on Ao3, WIP, Series, Explicit, Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence and Child Abuse, Underage Sex, BDSM Undertones, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Wordcount: 769,467

Zuko and Sokka write letters to one another and form a connection. Doesn't stray extremely far from canon, but enough to keep things interesting. A lot of very sweet moments and also many very hot and steamy ones (guaranteed to make you fan yourself while smiling until your cheeks hurt!). The way the author writes relationships - both romantic and otherwise - is super compelling, and this series is really driven by excellent character development.

All's Fair by @lovelyelbowleech

Available on Ao3, WIP, Series, Mature, Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence and Child Abuse, Torture, Zuko/Zhao (Non-con), PTSD

Wordcount: 233,750

Zhao survives the attack on the North and takes Sokka and Zuko as prisoners on his ship. This one is quite dark at times and there's a lot of wump, but the slow build of the relationship between the boys is great and it's not lacking in comfort! A lot of badassery in this one, and there are some great funny moments too - I love the way the author portrays the characters. A great blend of hurt/comfort and extremely well-written!

Chained by blueeyedarcher

Available on Ao3, WIP, Explicit, Canon AU - No Bending, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Allusions to Torture, Allusions to Suicide, Major Character Death (not the GAang - so far)

Wordcount: 358,478

Sokka takes Zuko (a Fire Nation spy) back to the Southern Water Tribe as a PoW. Not quite as dark as the summary and tags might imply. Many sweet moments. There are other AUs of the fic within the series, such as a shapeshifter AU, which is also very good. (Also: Pirate Queen Yue - need I say more?)

I would also recommend this author's other works!

Spirit's Tether by Spheral3

Available on Ao3, WIP, Gen, Canon AU - Soulmates, Slowburn

Wordcount: 259,011

Mostly canon compliant - except Sokka and Zuko are soulmates, which does change some things! Again, many sweet moments (there are themes in what I enjoy reading haha), and it's friends to enemies to lovers!

There's Bound To Be A Ghost At The Back Of Your Closet by anactualforrealadult

Available on Ao3, WIP, Gen, Modern AU, Dadkoda, kid!fic, Trans!Zuko, Allusions to Prostitution (not Zukka)

Wordcount: 31,799

Zuko raises Kiyi, with some help. Starts when Zuko is a teen and progresses from there. I love Dadkoda and Dad!Zukka fics, and this is a wonderful combination of both!

How You See Me by @mysticpandora

Available on Ao3, WIP, Explicit, Canon Divergent, Canon AU - A/B/O Dynamics, MPreg, Slowburn, Major Character Death (not the GAang - so far)

Wordcount: 117,566

Alpha!Sokka and Omega!Zuko. Zuko ends up injured and stuck in the Southern Water Tribe, and is helped by Sokka and his family. There are some very cute pets in this one, and Sokka works hard to make Zuko comfortable and win his affections. I know ABO isn't for everyone, but if it floats your boat then I think you'll enjoy this fic. And the Air Nomads haven't all been wiped out in this fic, which is lovely to see.

While Mighty Oaks Do Fall by @witchofendor

Available on Ao3, WIP, Teen, Fire Sage Zuko, Zuko joins the GAang early, Canon Divergent

Wordcount: 115,020

Ozai sent Zuko to become a fire sage when he was a kid, and now canon events are happening with that backdrop. This is funny and heart-warming, really tugs at my heartstrings. Extremely well-written and the author creates a depth to the world-building that is very compelling to read.

Guidance Extended Universe by jovialJuggernaut / @jovialjuggernaut-draws

Available on Ao3, WIP, Teen, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Divergent

Wordcount: 269,795

This fic doesn't stray extremely far from canon, but Zuko and Sokka were guided by a spirit to one and other when they were kids because they're soulmates. This does change events somewhat. Also, some Jet in this which is fun!

2 Bros on an Island by HawksEyes /@thehawks-eyes

Available on Ao3, WIP, Mature, Slowburn, Canon Divergent, Homophobia, Torture, Drug Use, Allusions to Sexual Assault/Rape/Non-con, Allusions to Prostitution (this does not happen to Zukka)

Wordcount: 134,016

Zuko and Sokka are stranded on a desert island together pre-canon up until canon events. Then canon events progress, with some divergence. Also, Mava the iguana parrot is a hoot!

I have also really been enjoying this author's other works!

hold in, hold on by argentoswan

Available on Ao3, Mature, Modern AU, College/University, Eating Disorder, Minor Character Death

Wordcount: 69,806

Sokka is raising Katara, who is 6 years old in this. He's really struggling, but is starting to accept help from his friends. Quite a bit of angst, but also sweet moments and this author is an excellent writer.

Would recommend this author's other works as well!

Leaving It All Behind by Sreeder

Available on Ao3, WIP, Mature, Canon Divergent, Canon Typical Violence and Child Abuse, Torture, Prison, Zuko/Zhao (Non-con), PTSD

Wordcount: 259,817

Zhao survives the attack on the North and takes Sokka prisoner. Zuko has been Zhao's prisoner since before Sokka was captured. They are both in a prison camp as a result. A lot of angst in this one, but Zuko and Sokka's relationship is so great it makes my heart hurt. Also, Jet is around!

#Zukka #Zukka fic recs #Atla #Zuko #Sokka #This is what I'm reading at the moment #sokka/zuko #zuko/sokka #Zukka fic rec list #WIP #WIPs

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dragon-kazansky · 4 years ago

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Your knight in a fur coat | Helmut Zemo

Requested by @cherry-season

Warnings: Arachnophobia. Figured I should just mention it before you read.

Judging by the volume of your screaming alone, anyone would think you were being murdered. However, your only house companion right now, other than the demon in your room, was Zemo, so Sam and Bucky wouldn't be able to blame this on him, at least.

The house had been otherwise quiet until that point. Zemo and had seen you go upstairs shortly after the other two left. He had continued to mill about downstairs, keeping himself occupied.

Then, shattering any thread of peace, you screamed from the top of your lungs.

For a moment he froze. The screaming stirring something within him. The past he hoped fo leave behind came rushing back. It wasn't until he heard your voice calling for help that he snapped back to reality and took off like lightning. He skipped every other step as he leaped up the stairs and dashed down the hall.

Who ever was bringing you harm would regret ever crossing him.

Zemo pushed open your door with all the strength he had, eyes darting around the room wildly. He was worried he would be once again too late. Sam and Bucky would kill him if you got hurt, or worse, whilst being left alone with him.

However, the scene he was presented with was unusual, to the say the least. You would standing on your bed, a thick book in your hands, as your eyes flickered from spot on the floor to another.

"What are you doing? I thought you were being murdered or something?"

He was beyond relieved to see you in one peace, alive and well. As you should be.

"There's a monster in here!" You hissed, looking to your right sharply, thinking you saw the blasted thing.

"A monster?" Perhaps you've gone mad?

"Yes, the purest evil on the planet, and it's in this room!" You say, now looking to your left all of a sudden.

"Funny," he smirked, "considering I'm in the room with you."

"You're not evil, but this thing is."

"Bold statement." Zemo looked at you curiously.

"Are you going to help, or am I going to have to tell the boys you left me for dead when I was trouble?" You hiss at him.

"If you die, you won't be able to tell them."

"Don't get smart with me, Zemo." You glare at him. "THERE IT IS!" You throw the book you were holding. It lands with a thud not too far from his feet.

"Me?"

"No, stupid, that evil eight legged fucker!"

Zemo lets your words sink in. Eight legged? Oh.

"Do you mean to tell me you're up there like a scared little kitten because there's a spider in here somewhere?"

"YES! Also, don't call me a kitten, I'm ferocious."

"Right... You don't look very ferocious up there." Zemo walks over to the bed and looks up at you.

"Zemo, please." Your voice had dropped to a pleading whisper, "help me."

The way you were looking at him was tugging at his heartstrings. He didn't say anything as he got down on his knees and looked around the underneath of the bed. You were on your knees in the bed, looking over the edge.

"Do you see it?" There was a quiver to your voice. For some reason he didn't like that.

"No, little bird, I don't."

"Little bird?"

Zemo looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Do you not like that?"

"I didn't say that, it's just... you haven't called me that before." Your voice was a lot more level right now.

"I won't do it again."

"I... I didn't mean... you couldn't."

Zemo chuckles softly as he gets up, he stands at the very edge.

"Come here."

"What, why?" You look at him suspiciously.

"I don't see your little demon, so I'm going to take you downstairs and come back. I will search your room thoroughly, and won't stop until it's gone." He holds out his arms toward you.

You look at him suspiciously for a moment longer before shuffling over to him and letting him pick you up. He holds you so gently, yet securely, as he adjusts you in his arms, then he walks toward the open door. You hold on tightly as he moves, he chuckles right next to your ear. Zemo carries you all the way downstairs, no putting you down until you reach the sofa. He places you on it gently and stands upright.

"I'll be back shortly."

You watch Zemo go, unable to stop yourself from thinking he's being brave. How could he stand to be in a room with that little fucker scurrying around up there? Of course he's brave. You had always known he was. After everything he had been through, it made sense this was nothing to him.

You curl up on the sofa.

Sam and Bucky return, seeing you curled into a ball in your own.

"You alright?" Sam asks, coming over to check on you.

You nod, "I'm OK now, Zemo rescued me."

"Rescued you? From what? Did something happen?" Bucky asks, worrying about you.

"I saw a spider... he came to my rescue."

The boys looked at you softly, both knowing about your phobia.

"You sure, you're good?" Sam asked, making sure.

"Yeah, he's up there now. Zemo is brave."

"Zemo is a loose cannon," Sam mutters. You hit his shoulder softly.

"He saved me, be nice."

The moment Zemo comes back, making his way downstairs, you sit upright and give him all your attention.

"Is it gone?"

"Yes, little bird, it's gone. I put it outside." Zemo smiles softly at you.

"Thank you!" You get up and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly. Zemo is startled for a moment, but his arms settle around you and hold you close. He smirks at the other two who are glaring at him.

"You're very welcome, my dear." He even goes as far to kiss your temple.

You're a blushing mess, refusing to turn around so Sam and Bucky couldn't see your face.

"I'm going to go back upstairs now." You shuffle around Zemo.

"Just shout if you need me, dear."

You don't say anything as you disappear out of sight.

Sam and Bucky continue to glare at Zemo who is looking smug about the whole ordeal.

@ajeff855

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